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springtyme · 27 days

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munch spencer. that’s it. this is the ask.

𝐀 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐀 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲) ♡

Yo, doc, what that mouth do? thank you for the ask, hun! I'm sorry it took so long to get around to it <3

Spencer Reid x afab!reader || Masterlist || Spencer playlist

summary: You love Spencer, you love all of him. You especially love that big, beautiful, brilliant brain of his, it does, however, make him talk a little too much sometimes. But there's one activity he loves that seems to effectively shut him up every time.

word count: 4.5k

warning/tags: Smut! (18+, mdni!) Language. Cunnilingus (obviously). Vaginal fingering. Squirting. Multiable orgasms. The moodboard is only for vibes, there is no description of how the reader looks.

The soft glow of the television is casting long shadows on the walls as Spencer’s sweet lips begin to explore down your neck, kissing a trail down your heated skin and down to your collarbone.

“Did you know that the average person spends two weeks of their life kissing?” he murmurs against your skin, causing you to giggle, the movement of his lips making your skin tickle. His smooth voice sounding huskier than usual, sending shivers down your spine. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck, his touch lingering on your collarbone as he leans in closer.

“Oh, really?” you reply, playful amusement in your voice as you tilt your head back to give him better access.

“Mmmhmm,” he hums against your skin, his lips leaving a trail of desire wherever they roam. “And the longest recorded kiss lasted over 58 hours,” he continues, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, sending a wave of goosebumps down your spine.

“That’s really interesting, Spence,” you gasp as Spencer’s lips finally reach the hollow of your throat. “But can we focus on the kissing part right now?” you add, gently tugging on his hair. Spencer chuckles softly, clearly amused by your eagerness as he lifts his head to lock eyes with you.

You love Spencer’s mind; his big, beautiful brain never ceases to amaze you. It is one of the first things that drew you to him. And when he had looked into your eyes for the first time, with those beautiful hazel brown eyes of his, full of warmth and intelligence, you knew you were done for. You love everything that makes him him, but in this moment, all you can think about is the way his lips feel against your skin, the way his touch ignites a fire within you.

His gaze is intense as he leans in, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss that leaves you breathless. The world around you fades away as you lose yourself in the sensation of his lips moving against yours, the warmth of his body pressed close to yours. The sound of the television is now just background noise, the documentary you had been watching completely forgotten as your focus now is solely on the feel of Spencer’s lips on yours.

Time seems to stand still as the kiss deepens, a mix of desire and adoration swirling between you and Spencer. His hands move to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he deepens the kiss even more.

You moan softly against his lips, arching into his touch as the intensity of the moment washes over you. Spencer pulls back slightly, his eyes fixed on yours as he breathes heavily, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

“I could spend a lifetime kissing you,” he whispers, his voice filled with emotion.

Your heart flutters at his words, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his sweet declaration. You smile, feeling a rush of love and affection for this man who holds your heart in his hands, but you also feel how a warm flutter of fire hot desire starts to burn in your stomach, a primal need for him burning inside you.

“I could spend a lifetime kissing you too,” you reply, your voice filled with equal parts love and desire as you slowly start to straddle his lap, Spencer’s hands instinctively finding their way to your hips, pulling you closer against him. “But I wouldn’t mind doing a little more than just kissing,” you add, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper as you feel a tingling sensation course through your body at the thought of what could come next.

Spencer’s eyes darken slightly as he watches you with a hunger that mirrors your own, his hands sliding up your sides and you can’t help but squirm a little at the sensation of his touch.

His lips curve into a mischievous smile before he gently pushes you back onto the couch, his eyes never leaving yours as he leans in, his breath hot against your ear.

“I think we can definitely do more than just kissing,” he murmurs, sending a shiver down your spine. You still can’t believe how confident he has become since you started dating. He is still the same sweet, smart, nerdy Spencer, but now there is a newfound confidence in him, he is not as hesitant.

The air between you crackles with anticipation as he leans in to capture your lips once again, the kiss deep and searing, sending sparks flying through your veins. His hands roam over your body, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you both.

You tug at his shirt, desperate to feel his bare skin against yours, and he responds by pulling it off with a quick efficiency that leaves you breathless. His fingers trace patterns on your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he leans in to capture your lips once more.

You are just about to ask him if he wants to stay on the couch or if you should move this to the bedroom when the sound of Spencer’s phone ringing interrupts the moment. Spencer freezes mid-kiss, a soft sigh of frustration leaving his lips as he reluctantly pulls away.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” he says apologetically as you remove yourself from his lap. You nod understandingly, trying to hide your disappointment, you know that this is just a part of dating someone with as important a job as Spencer, that he has a job that can require his attention and focus at all times.

You take a moment to catch your breath, your body still humming with desire from the moments before, feeling the ache between your legs grow stronger as you hear Spencer answering the call from the kitchen.

A little pang of hope lingers in your chest as you hear Spencer groaning down the line. “I can’t believe you’re calling me for this now, Garcia,” he says, his voice filled with annoyance. You can hear the woman’s laughter through the phone, followed by some witty banter that makes Spencer chuckle softly despite himself. Doesn’t sounds like he has to leave to go on a case

You have not met any of Spencer’s coworkers yet, they don’t even know that Spencer is dating anyone. Maybe you should feel some type of way about your boyfriend keeping you secret, but you understand his choice. His job is high-stress, demanding, and potentially dangerous. You trust his judgment and respect his decisions, even though a small part of you wishes you could be there for him more openly.

His colleagues and him are close-knit, almost like a family, and they have their own ways of showing support and camaraderie. It doesn't bother you that he hasn't introduced you to them yet, but you can't help but feel a twinge of curiosity about the people who mean so much to him.

As Spencer finishes up his call, he walks back into the living room with a sheepish smile, his eyes flickering with a mix of guilt and desire. “Sorry about that,” he says as he flops down next to you on the couch with a groan. “Garcia keeps trying to set me up on a date, it was with someone from her book club this time, says I need to get out more.” he continues, rolling his eyes. “I keep shutting it down, but she’s so persistent.”

You chuckle at his admission, reaching out to run a hand through his tousled hair. “Well, I’m glad you’re not interested in going on a date with anyone else. I quite like having you all to myself,” you say with a teasing smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose.

Spencer’s eyes light up at your words, a smile spreading across his face as he leans in to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. “I have no desire to go on any dates that don’t involve you,” he murmurs, his voice filled with sincerity. “Maybe it’s time I introduce you to the team,” he adds, his eyes searching yours for approval. “Get Garcia to stop trying to set me up on blind dates.”

You feel a rush of warmth at the thought of finally meeting the people who mean so much to Spencer, of being able to share a part of his life that he keeps separate from you. “I would love that,” you reply, a smile tugging at your lips. “I’ve been curious about the people you work with, they must be amazing if they’re anything like you.”

Spencer’s smile widens at your words, his hand reaching out to intertwine his fingers with yours. “They are pretty amazing,” he admits, a hint of pride in his voice. “I think you’ll fit right in with the team.”

“But they can’t be as amazing as you,” you say, leaning in to press a lingering kiss on Spencer’s lips. The warmth of his smile against yours only confirms the depth of emotion you feel for this man.

As you pull back, a spark of mischief lights up in Spencer’s eyes. “I think it’s time we pick up where we left off,” he murmurs, his hands already starting to trail down your body, igniting a fire of desire within you once more.

You can’t help but laugh as you lean in to capture his lips in a hungry kiss. “Sounds like a good idea to me,” you whisper against his lips, the desire igniting once again between you both. “Bedroom?” ask, your voice filled with anticipation and desire.

Spencer’s eyes light up with anticipation as he nods, a mischievous glint in his gaze. “Definitely bedroom,” he agrees, his voice dripping with desire. With a shared grin, you both rise from the couch, hands intertwined as you make your way to the bedroom, leaving the glow of the television behind, his warm hand holding yours tightly as he pulls you along.

Once inside the bedroom, Spencer pulls you close, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss that leaves you breathless. Clothes are discarded hastily, a sense of urgency driving you both as you fall into the bed, a tangle of limbs and desire.

“Did you know that making love releases oxytocin, the hormone responsible for bonding and feelings of intimacy?” Spencer murmurs against your skin, his hands exploring every inch of your body as if he’s committing your form to memory. You gasp at the sensation, the warmth of his touch sending waves of pleasure cascading through you.

“I didn’t know that,” you breathe, your fingers threading through his hair as he continues to worship your body with his kisses.

“Yeah, and it also increases levels of dopamine, the pleasure hormone,” Spencer adds, his voice husky with desire as he peppers kisses along your jawline, his hands skimming over your curves. “Which means that being with you not only feels amazing physically, but it also strengthens our emotional connection.”

“Oh, really?” Is all you muster for a reply, the husky tone his voice has taken, is sending a thrill of warmth through you.

“Yeah, and cunnilingus has also been shown to have numerous health benefits, including reducing stress and boosting the immune system,” Spencer continues, his voice laced with a hint of playfulness as he looks up at you with a knowing smile.

You can’t help but laugh at that comment. You remember how shy Spencer had been when you were together for the first time, the way his eyes had been wide and his pale cheeks blushing as he had asked you if he could go down on you, almost pleadingly, like a parched man begging for water, like your pussy was the water that would save him. And that is exactly how Spencer eats pussy, with a reverence and devotion you would never guess, and he fucking loves it-You've never before been with someone who genuinely enjoyed giving oral sex as much as Spencer does, and it drives you wild.

“I’m all for boosting my immune system,” you reply playfully, your hands roaming over his body as you pull him closer to you. Spencer grins at your response, his eyes dark with desire as he leans in to leave a sloppy kiss to the side of your neck, sending a hor shiver down your spine. He continues to kiss a wet trail of kisses down your neck to your chest.

He is kissing and licking down between the valley of your breasts, his hands sliding down your body to explore every inch of your skin. The sensation of his lips and hands on you is almost overwhelming, the desire building up inside you like a wildfire.

The only thing you’re still wearing is your now soaked panties. Spencer’s hands slide slowly down to your hips, his gaze meeting yours as he presses a tender kiss to the center of your chest. The intensity of the moment fills the room, the air around you charged with desire as you lose yourself in the sensations of his touch.

Your breath catches as he leans in, his warm breath ghosting over your skin as he trails kisses down your abdomen, his hands deftly hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties, but instead of pulling them down, he lowers his head and places a gentle kiss to the fabric, his lips teasing the sensitive skin beneath.

A soft gasp escapes your lips at the sensation, your hands grabbing the sheets as he continues to worship you with his mouth, his tongue tracing patterns over the thin fabric.

Finally he takes the delicate garment between his teeth, gently biting down on the fabric and with a slow, deliberate motion as he uses his mouth to slide the panties down your legs until he reaches your knees and his hands take over, leaving you bare before him. The cool air hits your heated skin as he tosses your panties aside, his eyes locking with yours as he moves back up your body, kissing up your legs until he again is placed between your thighs, his hands prying your legs apart as he settles himself in between them.

His gaze is intense as he looks up at you, the desire in his eyes burning bright as he leans in to press a soft kiss to your inner thigh, his hands gripping your hips firmly. You can feel his warm breath against your core, sending a rush of heat through your body as he begins to slowly explore your most intimate parts with his lips and tongue.

“You are so gorgeous,” he hums into you, his voice filled with adoration and desire. The vibration of his words against your cunt is sending a delicious shiver through you, making you arch your back, pressing your pussy more firmly against his mouth. He groans with content as he nuzzles his face against you, his nose brushing against your clit as inhale deeply, savoring the heady scent of your arousal.

Spencer’s tongue is warm and velvety as he pushes it through your slick folds. You thread your fingers through his hair, urging him on with soft moans and gasps as he continues to lap into you with a hunger and passion that leaves you trembling with need.

“You taste so sweet,” he murmurs, his words sending a delicious thrill down your spine as he swirls his tongue around your swollen clit, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You can’t help but let out a cascade of moans and whimpers as he begins to move your hips in rhythm with his ministrations, making you gently grind against his face as he continues to worship you with his mouth.

After a little while one of his hands leaves your hips to slide up your body, teasing and caressing your skin as he cups your breast, flicking his thumb over your hardened nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

The sound of your moans echoing through the room only drives him further, his movements becoming more urgent as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. Your wet pussy pulses with desire. The bedframe is now creaking under you, Spencer grinding his erection against the mattress as he eagerly devours you. Your head is spinning, the sensations overwhelming you as you feel the coil of pleasure tightening within you.

The dual sensations of his mouth on your pussy and his hand on your breast are driving you wild, the pleasure building up inside you like a tempest. You can feel your orgasm approaching, a wave of ecstasy ready to crash over you at any moment.

You arch your back, gasping for breath as the wave of pleasure crashes over you, your body shaking with the force of your release. Spencer’s name falls from your lips in a breathless whisper as you ride out the intense waves of pleasure, his eyes locked on yours, filled with desire and adoration, but he doesn’t stop. Your body is writhing beneath him, every nerve ending aflame.

“I know you got more in you,” Spencer’s voice is husky and filled with desire before he teasingly flick his tongue against your sensitive clit. “Want you to sit on my face, love.”

Your breath hitches at his words, the suggestion sending a rush of arousal through you as you meet his gaze. Without hesitation, you lift yourself up slightly, allowing Spencer to shift beneath you as you straddle his face, settling yourself comfortably in his eager mouth.

The sensation of his warm tongue lapping at your sensitive folds sends a surge of pleasure coursing through you, your hands clutching at the sheets as you ride the waves of ecstasy that wash over you. Spencer’s hands grip your hips tightly, guiding your movements as you grind against his face, the slick sound of his mouth on your wet pussy mixing with the sweet sounds of your moans and gasps filling the room. He brings your throbbing clit between his lips, sucking gently before flicking his tongue against it, sending another wave of pleasure crashing over you.

You can feel the tension building within you once again, your body trembling with need. You lift yourself up slightly, feeling the heat of Spencer’s breath against your swollen clit, he lifts a hand to your pulsing core, flicking over your weeping cunt with a speed and urgency that has you gasping for breath. your toes are curling as you gush all over, the clear liquid getting flicked everywhere. You know how much he loves it when he can make you squirt.

You feel your body tightening with the impending release, the pleasure building up inside you like a tidal wave ready to crash. The intensity of the moment is almost overwhelming as you feel the waves of pleasure crashing over you relentlessly. Spencer’s name keeps spilling from your lips as your body shakes with the force of your release.

Spencer eagerly drinks in your essence, bringing you to new heights of ecstasy with his expert ministrations. You feel the world around you fade away as you lose yourself in the delicious pleasure he is giving you, his devotion and desire evident in every touch, every caress, every flick of his tongue.

As the waves of pleasure finally subside, leaving you breathless and trembling in the aftermath, Spencer pulls you close, kissing you tenderly, making you taste yourself on his swollen lips. You pull away after a little while so you can look into his beautiful eyes. His lips and chin glistening with your juices.

“You are incredible,” you whisper, your voice filled with genuine awe as you brush a stray lock of hair off his forehead. Spencer smiles softly, a contented look in his eyes as he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace.

“You’re pretty incredible yourself,” he murmurs, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead.

“Do, eh… Do you need me to return the favor?” you ask, feeling a surge of desire to give him just as much pleasure as he had given you.

Spencer lets out a soft chuckle while he gently shakes his head. “I don’t think that will be necessary,” he says, a slight red blush creeping across his cheeks. That’s when you notice the wet, sticky spot on the front of his gray boxer briefs

“I think I might have taken care of that myself,” he adds with a small, almost shy, smile, causing you to giggle softly. You lean in to press a gentle kiss to his lips, feeling a rush of love and affection for this man who will devour you like a starved man and bring you to the highest of highs, who also blushes after creaming his pants while eating you out.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really fucking cute, Spence?”tease, your heart filled with warmth and adoration for the man in front of you. as you lean in to capture his lips in a sweet tender kiss. “And so fucking sexy,” you add, whispering the words against his soft lips.

Spencer chuckles, the sound vibrating sweetly against your lips, his cheeks flushing even more at your words. “Only you,” he replies, his voice filled with warmth and adoration. “But I like being told that by you.” You smile, feeling a rush of affection for him as you snuggle closer, reveling in the warmth and intimacy of the moment.

“I love you, Spencer,” you whisper, feeling his arms tighten around you in response, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you too, more than words can express,” he murmurs, the sincerity in his voice making your heart swell with happiness.

“And here I thought you had words for everything Dr. Reid,” you tease playfully, earning a soft chuckle from Spencer.

“I may have words for a lot of things, but when it comes to how much I love you, words always fall short,” he says, his voice filled with sincerity.

You can feel your heart overflowing with love and happiness at his words, knowing deep down that this man truly adores you. You snuggle closer to him, feeling his warmth and love surrounding you like a comforting cocoon.

“Do you have any plans next Saturday?” Spencer asks, his voice filled with excitement as he looks down at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

You raise an eyebrow in curiosity, a smile tugging at your lips. “No, why?” you reply, wondering what he has in mind.

“Just… Maybe you could meet the team next weekend,” he says, a shy smile playing on his lips.” They mean a lot to me, and you mean a lot to me, it makes sense to introduce you to them,” he explains, his eyes shining with love. “Would be nice to get Garcia off my back as well,” he adds, his playful tone causing you to laugh.

You feel a rush of warmth and happiness at the thought of finally meeting the people who are so important to Spencer, of being able to share a part of his life that he's kept separate from you.

“I would love to meet them,” you reply, a smile spreading across your face. “I can’t wait to finally put faces to the names you talk about so often.”

Spencer’s grin widens at your words, his eyes shining with excitement. “You’re going to love them,” he assures you, pulling you into a tight hug. “I can’t wait for them to meet you. And they are gonna love you. You’re so lovely,” he adds, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“You are lovely,” you murmur, feeling a surge of love and happiness at the warmth and affection in his words as he kisses your forehead again. You snuggle closer to him, feeling content and secure in his embrace, knowing that you have found someone truly special in Spencer.

You lay tangled together in a peaceful silence for a long while, the tranquility of the moment wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

“You want a shower?” you ask, breaking the silence as you feel the stickiness of sweat and other fluids on your skin.

“What about a bath?” Spencer suggests, squeezing you a little tighter.

“A bath does sound amazing,” you agree, feeling a smile tugging at your lips as you shift to look up at him. “You know me so well.”

Spencer chuckles softly, the sound filling the room with warmth as he presses a tender kiss to your lips. “I aim to please,” he says, his voice filled with affection.

“Hmm, maybe I can please a little too,” you counter, running a teasing hand down his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

Spencer lets out a breathy giggle as his eyes find yours. “You don’t have to do that,” he replies, his soft smile making his eyes look like they sparkle as he leans in to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

“Maybe I want to, Spence,” you reply with a mischievous grin, feeling a surge of desire pulsing through your veins at the thought of returning the favor to him. “After all, we did just learn about all those health benefits of cunnilingus, isn’t it the same with fellatio?” you ask, raising an eyebrow playfully as you trace a finger along his jawline.

Spencer’s eyes widen slightly at your boldness, a hint of surprise flashing in his gaze before a playful glint takes over. “Well, I suppose it’s only fair to test out those health benefits,” he says, his voice filled with amusement as he stands up from the bed, offering you his hand to help you up as well.

The two of you make your way to the bathroom, filling the bathtub with warm water and bubbles as you both slip in together. The warm water soothes your muscles as you relax against Spencer’s chest, his arms wrapped around you in a loving embrace.

As you relax in the warm water, Spencer’s hands find yours, intertwining your fingers as you both bask in the peace and comfort of the moment. The sound of the water gently trickling around you is soothing as you lean back against Spencer, feeling his warmth and love enveloping you like a blanket. You close your eyes, savoring the moment of intimacy and connection that you share with him. “I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you in my life,” you murmur, feeling a rush of gratitude and love for the man holding you close.

Spencer presses a soft kiss to your temple, his voice filled with sincerity. “I feel the same way about you,” he whispers, his arms tightening around you in a loving embrace.

The words warm your heart, filling you with a sense of happiness and contentment. You feel truly blessed to have found someone who loves and cherishes you so deeply. “I love you, Spencer,” you say, your voice filled with emotion as you turn to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I love you too,” he says, bringing your entwined hand up to kiss your knuckles. “So, so much.”

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated ♡

@sadroses98

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astrow1zar6 · 5 months

Text

Astro Observations- 09

Virgo suns have very wide alert eyes, almost doll like.

People with 5th house stelliums have so much raw talent but they rarely see it themselves. Many procrastinate to put their creative plans to action cuz they feel like they can’t do it. But once they do they can make a lot of money or get famous for their gifts.

Capricorn rising tend to experience the Benjamin Button effect as they age. They tend to look more mature and developed young & as they age they look as if they stayed the same age as when they were young. They developed really fast then it just slows at a certain point. They truly age like fine wine🍷

Pisces men with Aries Venuses tend to ghost their partner when things start to get too serious

Virgo suns/Venus are very particular about who the have sex with. They want to be able to completely trust their partner and feel comfortable with them. They really aren’t as picky as people make them seem they just value genuine connections and most are afraid of rejection. This can cause them to hold off sex longer than most signs until it feels “right”. This can be an issue for more fast paced signs.

Have Moon square Moon is one of the biggest signs of incompatibility. You never understand one another’s emotions most of the time which can lead to a lot of heated arguments and feelings of being unheard. This can work but it takes a lot of patience and compromising for both parties

Saturn in the 1st house individuals don’t take criticism well. Most have very fragile self esteems so the littlest comment can send these people into a spiral. They are very hard on themselves :(

Taurus suns are the most laziest hardworking people you’ll ever meet lmao. They can lay around all day but still get things done with little effort it’s impressive

Taurus mars usually have to work harder than most when in comes to school/college a lot we’re slow learners younger and struggled a lot with grades but when they put in that work they can be unstoppable. It just takes a lot more out of them.

Libra Mercury’s are so engaging and charming. A lot of politicians & salespeople have this placement. They can persuade you into anything.

Pisces/Cancer Mars men are usually mamas boys

People with Aquarius and Capricorn placements act so mature even from a very young age.

Aries mars individuals gain muscle SOO easily. Even the women are usually very athletic looking even if they barely workout. They have very healthy bodies.

Jupiter trine ascendant people have amazing legs. Overall their appearance looks so healthy they have a natural glow to them which is mesmerizing.

#astro observations #astroblr #astro notes #astrology #astrologist #astro community

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alyakthedorklord · 9 months

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Omg literally it would be SO cool if you wrote the rest of the playboy bruce trying to kiss the justice league without them realizing it (I know you said figure it out but the way you wrote it was so good and funn I would love it if you gave maybe a couple of scenarios)

Lmao honestly executive dysfunction is kicking my ASS rn and it was intended as a prompt. I will try tho, definitely taking inspiration from the others who responded to the post because I love them.

If you haven’t, go check out the notes on the OG Post above! @britcision, @ivywing, and @help-i-need-a-cool-username all had amazing additions and @foursixtwonineoh-pieces-of-lego wrote a fic:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48325771

As did @scrapcheck, still in progress

And Devilhorn!

Anyways LONG post under the cut

Hal Jordan

Hal is first to prove a POINT, as @britcision decided. Also because the bastard made it waaaay too easy. Remember- Hal was Joking. He genuinely thinks Batman isn’t going to try, because he’s way too straight-laced boring.

So when he’s at a bar in Coast City, and he sees this absolutely ravishing man lounging casually against the wall, bar lighting making him practically glow (he CALCULATED that) subtle makeup making his bright blue eyes pop as he looks Hal up and down… Well. Hal makes the first move.

Hal: “All on your own, handsome?”

Bruce, with “Mastermind” by Taylor Swift playing in his head, smiling sweetly at Hal: “Care to change that?”

They start talking. Hal doesn’t recognize Bruce Wayne at ALL (canonically he does not know who Bruce Wayne is, a point brought up by @help-i-need-a-cool-username) so all he knows is Bruce is a single father who works at a company he inherited from his parents, which is just (brucie voice) “so much less interesting than a test pilot!”

Bruce, grimacing internally but wrapped around Hal’s arm with the awed and interested eyes in full effect: “you have such a nice voice, tell me more about planes…”

He KNOWS what a fuselage is, thank you, Jordan. Whatever. He gets to gush about his kids, when its his turn to talk, good enough tradeoff. He can survive Hal Jordan’s bad pick up lines and pretend he’s into them. At a certain point Bruce breaks and kisses him just to shut him up. One down.

Diana Prince

I looked it up- kissing in Ancient Greece wasn’t always considered romantic, but also a greeting between two similarly-ranked people. Therefore, I think Diana would be pretty chill with kissing and honestly an easy target at a gala if Bruce plays respectful/clumsy/earnest himbo starstruck with the tall pretty woman, just a peck would make him the happiest man alive. But I wanna go a little more in depth.

Now, I’ve seen Flash and Martian Manhunter save Bruce and/or his kids and Bruce lays one on them, but honestly I think it would work well with Diana too, because she loves kids. Dick and/or Jason (whichever you want to imagine, I want them to team up screw canon) are WAY to excited for this, they’ve got a little script and everything.

WonderWoman, a kid in each arm, delivering them back to their tearful guardian: “Here we are, Mr. Wayne. Whole and healthy.”

Dick, playing into his role eagerly: “Oh my gosh, Bruce! Bruce we got saved by a princess! It’s like a fairytale! Except, you know, the princess is the hero this time, which is so freaking cool!”

Bruce, tears of gratitude rolling down his face (and he knows how to still look perfect while crying, its a skill): “I’m just glad the two of you are safe, Chum.”

Jason, big baby blues in full effect, absolutely asked Wonder Woman to be his mom earlier (to set groundwork, no other reason): “You know, usually the princess and the hero gets a kiss at the end of a fairytale, Bruce. But this princess is both. So how will she get a reward?”

Still choked up with relieved tears and now laughter, Bruce looks up at Diana and smiles: “Well, if the Princess wants a reward… then I would be a fool to refuse.”

Bruce kisses her on the lips, Dick and Jason both kiss her cheeks, Diana leaves charmed and amused by the sweet family. Such a good father, humoring his children and thier little fascination with her, so very respectful…

Two down.

J’ohn Jones

Okay, martians are telepathic. So this goes one of two ways, at some sort of charity or something-

Option 1, Batman is a realist: the charity event is a masquerade, and he wanders over to where MM is while thinking “it would be so funny, give me this.” As loudly as he can. And Martian Manhunter, who appreciates the audacity, gives him a kiss. (I don’t like this one because it technically breaks the rules of the bet, bc MM knows it’s Batman, but eh)

Option 2, Batman is a different breed: he manages to up the ante with his Himbo Persona. Creating a “slippery void” mental facade that blocks of his real thoughts and makes him read as really just that stupid. This would require functioning with two trains of thought at once, and making sure that the Martian can only read the surface level, “oh, this one is pretty” “I really wouldn’t mind kissing him” and other such decoy thoughts, instead of “target is approaching, signs of interest present despite this not being his natural form-“

Bruce also researches and copies Martian courting styles and copies them “by chance,” catching MM’s attention. (He offers him Oreos)

Martian Manhunter: “this man… he is so empty headed and yet clearly kind and willing. I would not take him for a life partner, but for some simple fun as he seems to desire…”

(Edit: Maybe, if B is confident enough, he lets through his loneliness. Missing his parents, wanting affection, an ache so strong it’s like a physical wound. J’onn feels the same ache for his lost family, and decides to try this human’s strategy to fill that void. Either way…)

Batman 3, League 0

Barry Allen

I’m strangely blank when it comes to the Flash let me just spitball and let it snowball

As I said above, people have had him save Bruce, had Bruce seduce him at his workplace while taking a tour, I even saw @help-i-need-a-cool-username have Dick set up a petition for Bruce to kiss the Flash. (An idea that I personally think would also go really well with Superman lmao.)

Anyways, I think it would be funny for Bruce to take it slow with Barry. For the irony of it all. Because Batman is doing this to prove a POINT. So he’s in central city, spots Barry coming his way, and “accidentally” slips right into his arms. Ooh, or covered in coffee, like a wealth disparity drama base script, and Barry’s like “omg i am so sorry let me pay you back.” And bruce is all “this shirt costs (stupid amount of money)”

Barry: (fear)

Bruce, rolling with it rn: “yes, it is horrendous, isn’t it? Hows this- I’m in central city for a day. You can pay me back by showing me around?”

He then proceeds to string barry along on an honest to god DATE for shits and giggles. They go clothes shopping, they go to restaurants, Bruce pays for a big meal bc this is after a fight or something and Barry got hurt, his speedster comrade needs to EAT, damnit.

After all this, he gives a cheeky smile and lightly smooches Barry. “Thanks for the fun day, Mr. Allen.”

Barry, bright red and goo brained: “hah- mmhmm. Yeah…”

Batman 4, League 0

Oliver Queen

This one… Oliver is on guard. He’s twitchy and suspicious, turning down men flirting with him, people are starting to notice. But Bruce? Bruce just walks up at a party while “tipsy” and lays one on him. Straight up. He wants to show just how EASY it is. Because Oliver doesn't even register it. He just laughs and goes: “Hey Brucie! Miss me?”

Batman 5, League 0

Dinah Lance

Of course, immediately after above, he turns and pouts at canary.

Bruce: “Dinah darling, you are a saint, I don’t know how you put up with the mess he’s got on his face. He was so much nicer to kiss when we were in (fancy private school name drop) together and didn’t have all this nonsense.”

Dinah, laughing at Ollie’s offended noises: “Oh, I don’t mind it. He’s a good kisser.”

Bruce: “Of course he is, I taught him. Care to compare?”

Dinah: “Don’t mind if I do.”

Batman 6, league 0

Clark Kent

For Clark, Bruce is originally talking to Lois before he turns his eyes on a quiet Clark and croons: “So, Miss Lane, does this lovely specimen have his own questions, or is he arm candy? And if he’s the latter, can I either tempt him off you, or secure an invitation?”

Lois, an excellent friend who will absolutely set Clark up with the hottest bachelor in Gotham: “Well, Mister Wayne, I’ve got all I need. Clark, take a page from my book and honeytrap a good quote out of him, hm?”

With an obnoxious wink, she pats a spluttering Clark on the shoulder, and leaves him with a very smug Batman.

(Bonus Superbat- Clark and Bruce’s conversation is going REALLY WELL and to the point where both of them seem on board with more than a heavy makeout when Bruce puts a hand on Clarks chest.

Bruce: “Stop.”

Clark, freezing immediately: “I’m sorry, did I go too far-?”

Bruce: “No, no. I think I might be though. See, I have all of you now, and I’ve won the bet.”

Clark: “What are you- oh. Oh- HUH?”

Cue sudden and shocked revelation, Clark’s mind going a hundred miles an hour, and then skidding to a stop on- he only did this for the bet. He’s not really interested. He stopped because I went too far-

Bruce: “You only consented to a kiss without knowing my identity. Right now, I’d like to do more, if you’d let me.”

Clark has the dial-up tone ringing in his ears, he has no idea whats going on anymore, the hot billionaire and his reclusive teammate aren’t quite slotting into place, because he wants both but rhey’re so different but they’re the same but-

“Yes.”

Lois doesn’t get Clark back that night and she is delighted.)

Anyways, final results:

Batman: 7

League: 0

Reveal:

Batman talking shit about their secret identities again, Green Lantern is scoffing about it again, says something along the lines of: “You still think you’re sooooo great, huh? Hows the bet going, spooky?” Fully expecting Batman to get huffy with him.

Instead, Batman smirks.

He leans in

And purrs: “So you didn’t notice?”

The League freezes. The implications are dangling over their head. Did he… did he really?

Green Lantern, absolutely terrified: “No. no, there’s no way…”

Batman: “Oh, there absolutely was a way. I’d say you were a good kisser, but honestly? I think it might have been the euphoria of getting you to shut up.”

He turns on the rest of the league, still smirking. “I have kissed every single person who consented at least once in the time since the bet was made. Two of you with tongue. And no one has called me out on it. Now that you know it’s happened, you should be able to figure me out, so whoever can tell me my real name first, wont get thier story used as an example in the brand new “how to avoid honeypots” seminar.”

(If bonus superbat, B shoots Superman a Look and goes “except for you, superman, because I told you my name.” Which just ends up distracting everyone else until they get THAT story)

Diana wins bc she matched up the boys to the robins. Everyone else gets their stories told in excruciating detail. Batman rates them by kissing ability and how obvious he was on his approach. Oliver gets docked points for “texture.” Dinah gets docked points because “i griped about the exact same thing in and out of costume, how did you not notice-“

(Different reveal below)

@chaos-n-kindness @she-went-that-way @geekonaleash @redh00dsbf @howabouticallyou

#batman the playboy #autistic batman #justice leauge shennanigans #bruce wayne #long post #batman

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gurugirl · 1 year

Text

The Arrangement | Part 2*

Summary: Harry's wife proposes that he find a mistress to meet his needs in the bedroom as she is no longer willing. His wife has 2 rules: The first is that he finds a professional, and the second is that no feelings are to be involved. But both of those rules are thrown out the window when he meets Y/n.

A/n: Based on this request (take a read so you know what you're in for here) ~~ sugardaddy dom!harry x subby!reader 17.2k words

Warning: 18+ only, smut, spanking, use of rope, suspension, dominant/submissive relationship & dynamic (DDlg included), lying, unprotected sex, cheating, some slight violence

The Arrangement Masterlist

Y/n was feeling quite scandalous when she went back to work the day after she’d spent the most amazing night with Harry in bed, on the terrace, in the rooftop pool, and then having him choose to stay with her rather than going home to his wife. She woke up in his arms with him kissing her and then she somehow found herself happily giving him sloppy head and swallowing him down before getting dressed in her new chic high-waisted Loro Piana linen skirt, a cropped silk chiffon Loewe top, and the Manolos again.

And of course, the rouge Birkin bag.

Of which, Jessica nearly lost her mind over.

“Holy…” she looked around before speaking her next words quietly, “shit! Is this for real? Oh my god!!”

Y/n let her hold the bag as she turned her computer on. She was feeling so relaxed and so confident. Not like she’d ever really felt before. She knew, of course, her arrangement with Harry was just, well… an arrangement, but it didn’t mean that she wasn’t absolutely glowing and feeling the effects of his lavish attention.

“Yes, it’s real.” Y/n smiled and sat down. She still burned hot with embarrassment at Jessica’s attention over the bag but this time she was able to push it down and feign confidence.

Jessica leaned over her desk, “And you look… you’re absolutely radiant, Y/n. Like, everything about you looks…” she placed the purse down on the desk, “well… anyway. Do you want to grab lunch with me today?”

And that was how it went until the end of her internship. Suddenly, the nice clothes, the shoes, and the Birkin bag had Jessica’s attention and Y/n was invited to lunch nearly every day. Some days Y/n declined when Harry wanted her to himself. Which was at least once a week. In his office, in the conference room, at his house when Romy wasn’t there. Even once at her apartment in her room.

Harry had determined, though, that her living situation was not to his standards. The neighborhood she lived in wasn’t up to par. It was a little dangerous and having her wait for the bus to get to work or to go home made him nervous. He didn’t like it. He hated wondering if she was okay arriving at home late. He always insisted she text or call him once she arrived home safely.

And things progressed quickly. He showed her what he wanted and Y/n was on board all the way. She was all yes and please and thank you from the get-go.

She learned that she loved being completely tied up. Having her legs and arms secured with rope and tied down so he could do as he pleased. It gave her so much pleasure and made her feel confident and calm, as crazy as that sounded. Not needing to make any kind of decision or even move a bone in her body if she didn’t want. Because she trusted Harry. The longer she knew him the better it was. The more confident and comfortable she was.

He bought her more things she didn’t need but that she wound up loving. More clothes. A new cellphone. He paid her monthly bill. Flew her to Hawaii with him for a quick weekend away when he had a conference. Booked spa, hair, and nail appointments for her, paid for a driver to pick her up at her apartment when she wasn’t staying at some posh hotel with him, and even gave her a credit card. He made her an authorized user and gave her her own card with her name on it and everything.

Harry paid for everything. He wouldn’t allow her to spend any of her money. He wanted her to save every dime she made.

It took a little time to get her comfortable with the money aspect. She was very much fine with the physical part of their relationship. She loved the feeling of not comfortably sitting (the reminder of why she couldn’t sit was a thrill), loved when he wrapped his hand around her throat and squeezed. Loved being yanked by the leather collar and leash and strapped into the harness and fucked so hard she’d spin out into her subspace and feel like a floaty angel.

She loved it all because it was with Harry who she trusted. Who took such good care of her after. Who treated her like his princess and chose her over his wife time and time again. Whom she was beginning to realize she was in love with.

But it was the fact that he was married that kept her from telling him that she did love him. That she wanted him for herself. That she wanted more. But she wouldn’t dare ruin what they had. She wouldn’t dare interrupt the blissful and beautiful arrangement they had. She was happier than she’d ever been.

There was a basic, yet nice, going away dinner for all the interns when the summer was over just before school started back. It was on a Friday in a nearby restaurant overlooking the river.

Y/n was enjoying herself, speaking with one of the other interns she hadn’t had much opportunity to get to know with a glass of Cabernet. She was wearing a very nice dress (courtesy of Harry of course) and was looking forward to seeing Harry afterward. He told her he booked a room for them so she was feeling the pre-session excitement and small boost of confidence she normally did beforehand.

Aaron was a nice guy. Attractive by any standards. Smart. And Y/n recognized that he was trying to hit on her. But of course, she wasn’t interested. Her lover was somewhere in the same room and she was flying high with anticipation of what the night would bring once he got her alone.

But Harry was in a foul mood. Romy decided to come by, which wasn’t unusual. But Harry didn’t need Romy ruining his night. She knew he wasn’t coming home that evening. Which Harry assumed she wasn’t happy about. She’d been expressing her deep concern about his more frequent absence. Spending so many nights with his mistress, whom she’d not even learned the name of.

But not only was Romy hanging onto his arm and laughing at some nonsense one of the new partners was spewing he could see Aaron clearly trying to shoot his shot with his girl. Y/n was being polite, he could read the situation for what it was. She was not interested but she was being kind and Aaron thought her kindness meant she was interested. Harry wished she’d just tell him that she was taken. That she wasn’t interested. But instead of hurting his feelings or making him feel embarrassed she just smiled and nodded and spoke when it was her turn and made friendly eye contact with him.

Harry really liked Y/n. Well, it was more than like. He was developing deep feelings for the girl. He couldn’t help it. So he didn’t like that she seemed to be acting so casually with Aaron who was very obviously flirting with her.

It had been nearly two months since they’d begun their arrangement. Y/n was going back to school in two weeks and her life was looking just grand. She was in her element, finally. In all her life she’d never been in her element. Never. But somehow Harry brought to surface her confidence and her glow.

But she missed seeing him alone and playing with him. It had been a few days away from him, and while that shouldn’t be a problem, it felt too long. Three nights away from him was no longer okay. She missed him too much.

The last day she spent with Harry he asked her a question that she hadn’t been able to forget about. She wasn’t sure if he would actually follow up or if he’d just drop it.

“So there’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you about,” Harry spoke as he placed her mug of coffee down next to her at the table. Y/n looked up at him in question.

He continued, “You mentioned that one time someone hurt you when they spanked you. Mind telling me his name?”

“Oh. Um… I guess. It was a long time ago, though, Harry. Really it’s nothing that even bothers me now.”

Harry sat down and kept his eyes on Y/n’s with his eyebrows raised, “What’s his name?”

“Martin Estes.”

“Is he here in the city or is he from back home?”

“Well, he lived here when I dated him a couple of years ago. But I don’t know if he still does.”

“Address?” He asked and sipped his coffee.

Blinking her eyes she looked down at her mug of coffee before looking back at Harry, “Why? What are you going to do?”

“I just want to have a chat with him. Doesn’t matter, though, he probably doesn’t even live in the same place anyway. Right?”

“Yeah. Um," she paused to think back to the area where she'd visited the guy a couple of times, "it was off Carmen near the university. Across from the dorms. Grey house. Two stories. He had a lot of roommates. I don’t remember the house number.”

Harry nodded and smiled, “Thank you.”

“But really, Harry. It’s not necessary. It’s been such a long time. I doubt he would even remember me- “

“Just another reason for me to visit him. I’ll give him a reminder so he won’t ever forget about you.”

As she thought about what he’d said that morning to her a few days ago she moved her eyes around the room and spotted him, the man she had been looking forward to seeing that very evening.

His face was set in a small frown as he met her gaze and then looked back to where his wife was next to him. Y/n hadn’t realized Romy was there. Suddenly her confidence and her liveliness faltered when she considered that perhaps she wouldn’t be seeing Harry that evening after all. Because if Romy was with him…

“But anyway, I think tomorrow we’re all gonna go out and celebrate before going our separate ways. What do you say? You wanna come?”

Y/n turned back toward Aaron, whom she hadn’t been listening to at all, and shook her head, “No… I have plans but thank you for the invite.”

“Yeah, no problem. Here…” he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, “What’s your phone number? I’ll text you so have mine just in case you wind up changing your mind.”

“Oh, uh…” She looked around and saw Harry looking right at her. As if he knew that Aaron was asking for her number. But when Romy turned her face to look at her husband and leaned in to kiss his cheek Y/n felt the smallest bit of anger bubble up in her chest. She could give a guy her number. Harry was married and here he was with his wife right in front of her.

Reaching into her purse she pulled out her phone and rattled off her number to Aaron who quickly texted her.

“There. Now we have each other’s numbers. So if not tomorrow, maybe another night?” He smiled and winked.

“Yeah, maybe another night.”

She knew Harry saw the whole exchange but what about what she saw with him and his wife? Did he think of that? She crossed the room to find the hallway and get some air from the crowd when she found the lady's room.

In the bathroom, she washed her hands and leaned into the wall near the mirrors in the sitting area, and scrolled through her phone. She needed a minute before heading back out to mingle again. It was becoming suffocating with so many people and seeing Romy all elegant and put together on Harry’s arm felt like a lot.

A notification covered her screen when she got a text. From Harry.

Where are you?

She sighed and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to be mad at him but she was. She was jealous that his wife was there and didn’t like the way he looked at her when Aaron was talking to her. She considered not texting him back for a bit. Just to make him seethe a little longer.

Clicking her phone off and putting it into her purse she felt her heart pound in her chest at the nerves that were building. She was being a bit bold by not responding to him right away. Normally she’d type out a quick response and be grinning from ear to ear. But in that moment she was feeling something a little different. Maybe a touch of adrenaline? Or perhaps she was a bit nervous at defying him the way she was. Would he punish her?

Y/n had never been punished by Harry. Not in the way that she felt he’d punish her for something like this. Part of her thought perhaps she might like to get a proper punishment. Maybe she’d done this on purpose in her subconscious mind. She decided she wouldn’t text him back. She’d just ignore his text, leave him on read, and go out and enjoy the rest of the night.

Pushing the door to the bathroom open to exit she heard a man and a woman in the hallway. Just as she turned her head to see who was talking she noticed that Romy was following behind someone into the men’s restroom. The voice wasn’t Harry’s. She didn’t see the man because he’d gone in first but she did find it strange that Romy was entering the men’s room.

Standing next to the door in silence she could hear only voices but no distinguishable words. Y/n was too interested to find out what was happening in the bathroom with Romy and the other man. She shouldn’t have been snooping in Romy’s business but since Harry was Y/n’s business she felt this was sort of her business as well.

Her phone chimed again and she reached into her purse to pull it out as she leaned her back to the wall next to the men’s bathroom door.

You’re in for it tonight, little girl. Be warned. If I don’t hear back from you within 5 minutes I will tear this restaurant apart to find you.

Harry knew she wasn’t with Aaron because he’d just finished talking to him. Which actually helped calm him down after she didn’t respond to his first text. He realized Y/n was avoiding him. Was she playing some kind of game?

His text brought a small smile to her face. Yes, she was feeling in a mood. She was only getting more excited by the idea of him feeling anxious and getting punished, but his text confirmed it. She was in for it.

Shooting off a single-word text to him- bathroom - she stuffed her phone back into her expensive purse and kept her spot next to the men’s bathroom door. Hoping to find out what Romy and this man were up to.

Harry rounded the corner in the hallway where Y/n stood not long after he saw her text. He wore the same scowl he had earlier as he neared the girl.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m waiting for the two people in this bathroom to finish up doing whatever it is they’re doing in there.”

“This is the men’s bathroom. Why do you care?” Harry stood over Y/n, directly in front of her. He was ready to bend her over his knee and spank the attitude out of her.

“I was just curious…” she felt her resolution crumble. She wanted to stay tough and bratty but he was making her soften quickly. Especially because she knew who was behind the door which could change everything for them that evening.

“It’s time for us to leave. Do you have everything?”

“Yeah, but don’t you want to wait for your wife? She came here to see you.” Y/n felt the smallest twinge of guilt saying that. She was sure he didn’t realize his wife was behind the door with another man.

“She left already. She was tired, as usual. Don’t worry about her.”

“She told you she was leaving?”

Harry paused. He was about to turn and half expected Y/n to just follow him because that was what she would have normally done. So he was surprised when she rebutted with her question.

“Yes. And then I walked her out so she could call her driver to take her home.”

Y/n blinked and looked toward the bathroom door and then back to Harry, “Umm…”

She didn’t want to tell him but at the same time, the kindest thing would have been for her to be honest. And she was certain he’d want to know.

Harry suddenly recognized what was going on, or at least he had a feeling, “Is Romy in there with someone, Y/n?”

She nodded as she watched Harry push the door open and walk into the bathroom. Following quickly behind him there was nothing to see in the sitting area. The men’s room was set up like the women’s. The first entry point had mirrors and a long vanity with benches and chairs for sitting. Beyond the sitting area was the long mirror with sinks and toiletries and then a separate area with stalls. The large accessible stall all the way toward the end was the only one in use. Y/n could hear the quiet movements and gasps as they got in closer. Once her heels hit the marble floor the sound of rustling fabric stopped.

“Romy! Come out now!”

Harry’s loud voice was angry, and Y/n hadn’t expected him to sound so furious.

There were frantic whispers and hushes as the two people who were taking up the large stall were probably trying to straighten out their clothes and get their stories straight.

Harry looked back at Y/n standing behind him and then toward the stall door, waiting for it to open.

“Open the fucking door now before I tear it off the hinges and pull you out of there myself!”

“Harry, I need you to calm down-“ Romy’s voice sounded from behind the door as there was a small bit of commotion in the stall with the porcelain of the toilet lid clanking.

“Do not fucking tell me to calm down. Open the door now!”

The click of the lock echoed as the fiberglass stall door slowly opened. Romy stepped out but kept her back to the door. She was clearly shaken up. She looked at the girl behind Harry and then at him not uttering a word.

“Well come on out, show me who’s in there with you,” Harry dramatically gestured toward her.

Romy put her hands up, “Harry, look, this isn’t-“

“The fuck it isn’t!” Harry lurched toward Romy and pulled at her hand, yanking her away from the door and into the room with the sinks where Y/n stood. He slammed the door wide open and there, standing on the toilet, perhaps in an attempt to hide himself, was Harry’s partner and the man he founded his business with. His best friend Sean.

The silence sliced through Y/n’s spine. It was scarier than when he was shouting. Harry only looked his friend in the eye before turning and walking past both Romy and Y/n to exit the bathroom.

Y/n hurried after him and when she finally caught up she grasped his elbow to get him to slow down, to get him to talk to her, to look at her.

“Harry, wait!”

Harry continued rapidly walking toward the exit of the restaurant and even with Y/n’s hand at his elbow he wouldn’t be slowed down. He needed to get out of there. Needed to think.

“Get a taxi and go home, Y/n. I’ll call you in the morning.”

Y/n let go of him and stopped abruptly, tears filling her eyes. She knew he wasn’t mad at her but it hurt nonetheless. She had been looking forward to seeing him and now he was upset, heartbroken maybe and there was nothing she could do to help.

It took her a moment to clear her blurry eyes before she reached a shaky hand into her purse to order a taxi.

Before she could finish, Aaron was calling her name. His kind face came into view and he stopped suddenly when he realized she’d been crying.

“Hey… are you okay? Come here,” he gently pulled at her arm and brought her toward the exit of the building so they could get some air outside, “Talk to me. Is everything all right?”

She shook her head and let out a pathetic sob, tears she’d just cleared from her eyes filling up and making her vision blurry again, “I just… I have a boyfriend. I’m okay but he just got some really bad news and…”

Aaron pulled her into his arms and patted her back, “It’s okay to cry.”

Y/n pulled away from the embrace after a few more beats and smiled up at the guy, “Thank you, Aaron.”

“No problem. Hey, I’ve got an Uber coming to take me home. Wanna share? I’m headed toward Northpark but I’m sure wherever you live they can reroute to accommodate. What do you say?”

Y/n wasn’t in a head space to say no to this invitation. It was a reasonable one too. And she really felt like even if Aaron was trying to shoot his shot with her earlier, he was a genuinely nice guy. Someone she could trust. At least a little. Plus, it was just a shared taxi ride. What could possibly be bad about this?

When she walked into her apartment Gregory was sitting in the living room watching the television.

“Hey! Haven’t seen you around lately. How have you been?” He sat up straight as she walked into the living room and toed her heels off.

“Oh, good. The internship has been a lot,” she said leaning down to pick her shoes up from the floor, “Just really tired right now, though. I hope you don’t think it’s rude if I just head to my room.”

“Of course not. Get some rest.”

She breathed out a sigh of relief walking into the hallway to go toward her bedroom. Gregory was a nice guy but she was truly exhausted. Mentally. Physically she was a ball of nerves and she needed to pace and cry and overthink (which was a terrible idea but she couldn’t help herself).

She took her dress off and placed her purse on her dresser and plopped onto her bed and let herself spiral. She’d been doing so well since meeting Harry. She’d felt more confident, more even emotionally, relaxed… but tonight everything had been unraveled. Seeing Harry with his wife, the look he was giving her for talking to Aaron, then the way Harry reacted when he realized Romy was with his business partner Sean, a man she knew was Harry’s very close friend… well Harry seemed very upset. Broken. Knowing that another woman could get that kind of reaction from him hurt. Of course, she knew realistically that their relationship was only an arrangement. Something fun for him and for her. Only she was in love with him. It had been a whole summer they’d been together and she had learned so much about herself through Harry.

But now what? The summer was ending and even though she’d be going to school locally and still living in her little apartment in a not-so-safe neighborhood would they continue their little tryst? It felt so petty of her to wonder that even, given the circumstances. He’d just found out that his wife had been seeing his good friend and never told him. He caught them red-handed so to speak. And here she was thinking of only herself.

She felt like she was going to burst into dust, fall to pieces on the floor, or simply stop existing. Her heart squeezed in her chest as she cried silently, not wanting to bother Gregory. It felt like this was it with Harry. He said he’d call her but he definitely didn’t need to. And what would she do if he didn’t call her? Call him? Text him and beg him? Get a taxi to take her to his home and hope Romy wasn’t there? She would. She would probably lower herself to begging and groveling and she hated that about herself. She was pathetic.

Suddenly she heard loud voices coming from the living room. She was sure one of them was Harry’s voice but she felt like she was probably hallucinating or going crazy. It couldn’t be.

Wiping her tears she sat up and perked her ears. She was only wearing a slip that she had on under her dress but she was about to walk into the living room to confirm what she was hearing.

Suddenly her door was pushed open and it was Harry with Gregory right behind him.

She stood from the bed quickly and took Harry’s hand as she looked at Gregory, “It’s okay.”

Harry slammed the door closed after Gregory raised his hands in defeat and backed away, “Where is he?”

“Who? What are –“

“Aaron. I saw you get in the taxi with him after letting him put his hands all over you.”

She released his hand and backed away. She was surprised that he’d actually think she’d want anyone but him.

Her anger rose in place of the sorrow and helplessness she felt only moments prior, “Fuck you.”

Harry was taken aback. She’d never spoken to him that way before, “What?” He was genuinely shocked by her words.

“I said FUCK YOU!” She shouted the words and like the wimp she was, began crying when she was supposed to be mad and mean. Instead, she was already letting her tears fall with abandon.

Harry blinked his eyes and looked at his sweet girl in tears and shaking with anger. He’d done this to her. He didn’t mean to but he did. And he was angry too. Angry that his wife had been lying to him. That his best friend had been lying to him (that one hurt the most if he was honest). And yes, he’d been lying to Romy but his lies weren’t the same, weren’t as severe. Romy gave him parameters but she didn’t tell him she was getting her needs met elsewhere (with his best friend) and therefore set no parameters for herself.

And he knew he shouldn’t be taking this out on Y/n. Clearly, Aaron was not in her room or her apartment. He had allowed himself to fall into self-pity – his wife was cheating with his best friend and now he’d made up a scenario that his lover was leaving him for some 22-year-old trust fund college boy. But that wasn’t fair to her. Y/n hadn’t done anything wrong. The only people he should be angry with were Sean and Romy.

Y/n wrapped her arms around herself and sobbed as she sat down on the floor, not even making it to her bed. She was devasted. It was over. It had to be. He was so mad and there was no way he’d believe her if he saw all that. Especially after having just seen what his wife was up to.

Harry realized this was his fuck up. Y/n didn’t deserve this. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He needed to start opening up to her before she closed herself off to him for good.

He stepped toward where she was and lowered to his knees in front of her, “Y/n, please look at me,” he said as he pulled her hands into his.

She knew she looked ridiculous. Her mascara was surely running down her face, eyes red and puffy from crying. But she did as he said because it was easier to just comply, her naturally submissive nature always leading her.

“I’m sorry. I…” he sat down next to her, keeping her hands in his, “I saw you and Aaron while I was waiting for my driver to pick me up and - I know you didn’t do anything. But then I saw you get into the taxi with him and I expected the worst. I had my driver bring me here and I just… I lost it. I can’t lose you too. I lost Romy a long time ago. But knowing my best friend…” Harry shook his head at the thought, “and you… I can’t lose you too. It was like seeing all of that tonight and I just overreacted and I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

She understood him. Deeply. She nodded and she felt his words and they were clear. She knew his intentions. And suddenly she was just thankful he was there with her.

Harry brought a hand up to her face and brushed his fingers along her jaw, “You mean so much more to me than I’ve let you know and that’s all my fault. Please don’t hate me. Don’t be sad. I… I’m sorry. All of that, all of this… it’s on me. I��m the one that did all this.”

Y/n brought her own hand up to Harry’s face and cupped his jaw, “Thank you.”

Harry stayed with Y/n that night in her tiny bedroom. He didn’t have his soft plush bed, comfortable joggers, or even a nice glass of wine to wind down. But he had Y/n in his arms and his heart beat for her and that was all he needed.

. . .

Harry brought her to the hotel he booked for them the following day. He was mostly silent on the way. He told her to pack what she needed for the week and then called ahead to the hotel to order breakfast for their room upon their arrival.

“Sit and eat. I have a few calls to make,” he said as he gestured to the breakfast set up once they got into their suite.

Y/n nibbled and peeked out the window to watch Harry pacing back and forth on his cell phone on the terrace. She wanted to know what he was saying. Whom he was speaking to. Why he wasn’t sitting with her and eating (though she wasn’t sitting when she had that thought in her head as she was spying on him).

Harry had been considering it for some time. Had figured it’d be good for them both but he wanted it to be a surprise for her. He knew she might have her reservations but he was set on doing this for her. But when he saw her peeking out the window he smirked to himself and decided he’d take care of her once he got back inside.

Y/n sat down at the table quickly and spread strawberry jam onto the croissant. She knew he spotted her. She smiled as she chewed the pastry, feeling good about where she and Harry were. The night before had been a whirlwind but it ended with him at her place and an apology for which she was grateful. It was also the first night they spent together without sex. And that was something.

He didn’t seem too bothered by what Romy had done. He’d expressed his displeasure with Sean, though. She realized that part hurt him the worst. That he was going to need time to recover from the blow of his best friend betraying him that way.

When Harry stepped back inside he was different somehow. He’d been so loving the night before and very sweet all morning, if not quiet. But now he was oozing of his dom persona and she immediately recognized it. Preparing her psyche for anything she rounded her eyes and watched him walk toward the table, giving him a look that told him he was in charge of her and she would comply.

“I think I could use a stress reliever right now. Last night was hard for me and I know it was for you too. You probably need to disconnect a bit as well don’t you little girl?”

She nodded and sat her croissant down.

Harry leaned over her and tilted her face up to his so he could kiss her. His lips softly moving over hers always worked her up into a drippy mess faster than she could understand. There was something about their connection that had her body responding to him faster than anyone she’d ever known, “And I promised you last night that you were in for it. I hope you don’t think you’re off the hook for not responding to my text and flirting right in front of me.”

Suddenly his hand moved up to the nape of her neck and he carded his fingers into her hair and yanked her up out of her seat, pulling her along to the couch where he sat down and brought her over his lap with her bottom up, hastily pulling her skirt up to reveal her pretty lace thong.

“Wearing everything Daddy bought you like a good girl. Except you’ve been naughty,” he brought his hand down to her bottom with a good slap, which was marked with bruises from their night together days prior. She jumped and hissed, clawing at the fabric on the couch, and squeezed her eyes closed.

“I’m going to put you in the harness today. Keep you on the bed and spread apart for me. Might use your paddle too. First, we need to open you up so I can put this in,” he lifted up the pretty anal plug he bought her a month ago. She’d been using it and he had fingered her multiple times, using as many fingers as he could fit in order to prepare her. He hadn’t yet fucked her in the bum like he promised he would. She looked from the plug to Harry and knew what she needed to do. What he’d taught her.

She licked her palm and stuck her middle finger into her mouth to get her digit wet before reaching back around to swipe the saliva around her hole. Harry kept his face set without emotion as he watched her start the process. He knew she wasn’t going to be able to get wet enough by just doing this but he loved watching her eagerly give it a try. She licked her finger again, spitting a big glob of saliva into her palm, and then rubbed it over herself again, her arm going behind her back as Harry held her cheeks apart.

He loved watching her touch herself and when she sunk her middle finger into her anus he started to plump up in his pants. He felt like tonight she’d be ready. He wanted to try it. He’d been wanting to but they were still getting used to everything with one another. Luckily Y/n was very receptive. Very willing and eager. Never said no.

She kept her eyes on him as she moved her finger in and out and Harry spit over her hole, the saliva hitting the puckered skin, and watched as she pushed it into her opening and moaned. He looked at her face and leaned in to kiss her. It was lovely having her draped over his lap on the couch with her bottom up and bare to him. She’d let him if he wanted to right then. Even if it hurt. He knew she would. But he wanted to get her totally relaxed, make a mess of her pussy first, and have her all subby and needy for him, begging him to fuck her ass. Last time they played she did. She begged him. Sat at the edge of the bed and put her ass in the air. She even cried a little when he told her he didn’t think she was ready yet.

That was the thing about Y/n. She was fun to play with. She dove into her persona headfirst and played the part only wanting more and more. And he hated comparing his wife to Y/n in any way, but Y/n was better at it. By far. Romy had been great too but she was the first one he’d ever really done anything of the sort with. Y/n was more natural at it. And she got wetter too. Harry had never slept with any woman that would get so wet so fast.

Like right now. Her pussy was already eagerly seeping arousal. Running his fingers through her crease and to her bum where her finger was, he pulled her finger out and slowly pushed his own in, “Let’s see how Daddy does it.”

He sucked in a deep breath as he watched his finger slide in, coated in her slick, massaging her walls.

She kept her eyes on him and whined when his finger pushed in to the knuckle. Harry looked from where his finger was working her open to her eyes and with his free hand he pulled her in for another kiss.

“Feels good doesn’t it, little girl. Want more?”

Nodding her head she smiled softly. Harry pinched her chin before removing his finger from her bottom and swiping it through her folds again, collecting her slippery juice over two of his fingers.

“Keep your eyes on me. Let me see your pretty eyes while I finger your ass.”

Harry slowly prodded his fingers into her, stretching her open, and her mouth parted.

When she started rocking her hips Harry swatted her bottom and removed his fingers, “Up. Get off.”

She straightened herself out and stood next to the couch as Harry got up and crossed the room and reach into his bag. He turned and pointed at the bed, “Panties off, bend over the bed.”

Doing what he said quickly she stepped out of her panties and kicked them to the side of the room and lifted her skirt as she bent herself and waited.

Harry stepped in behind her, “Spread your cheeks.”

She reached around, bringing her hands to her bottom, and used her fingers to part her cheeks for him. Feeling the cool liquid of the lube drip over her anus she bit her lip and turned her head on the comforter to chance being able to see Harry in her peripheral.

He stuck his finger into her entrance, smearing the lubrication inside and all around before getting the plug coated.

“Are you ready?” He spoke as he pressed the tip of the heavy glass toy to her bum.

Y/n nodded, “Yes, Daddy.”

Harry smiled and began to push it inside of her. Once it was pressed through her hole and secured, he turned it and pushed at it, causing her to jolt and then moan. He knew she liked it. She expressed as much the first time he put one in her. Though the first he used was half the size as she was currently on, she loved it. And with the way she took it in so much better than all the times before, he could tell she’d be ready for what he had in store for her tonight.

“Looks pretty, Y/n. But just because you’re pretty doesn’t mean you get out of your punishment. Take your clothes off.”

Standing up straight she turned to look at Harry and removed her top and her skirt. He stood a few feet from her and looked over her pretty frame. She was perfect for him. From top to bottom.

Harry stood in front of her and brought up the collar that connected to the harness. He tightened it around her neck and then attached the leash. Harry yanked on the leather and Y/n quickly fell to her knees in front of him. She kept her eyes on him at all times, knowing that was what he required. Pulling at her collar as he walked toward the closet, she crawled with him on all fours quickly.

Harry brought the harness out of one of the suitcases and then pulled out another long leather strap. Without a word he bent down and put the harness over her head, securing the straps under her torso and buckling it up around her back. He tested the tightness, lifting her the smallest bit at the back where the straps intersected.

“Good.” Was all he said before he pulled her along with him to the bed, gesturing for her to climb up.

She stayed quiet as he told her what he wanted. She got onto her hands and knees and then Harry came up behind her on the bed and yanked at the loop at the back of the harness, lifting her upward so only her knees were on the mattress. He pulled both of her hands behind her back and secured her wrists together with the leather strap and then to the loop at the back of the harness.

He removed the leash from her collar and placed it on the bed and grasped the loop at the back of her harness where her wrists were secured, lowering her face down to the bed.

Harry enjoyed how compliant she always was, how sweet, how horny…

Rubbing over her bottom he peeked at the plug and tapped it, causing her to stiffen and peep out a hushed moan. Then suddenly she felt the stiff, smooth, cool leather of the leash being run through her soaked folds before cracking it down over her bum.

She thrashed at the sudden sharp tear into her skin but bit her lip to keep quiet.

He repeated his actions, putting the leather over her pussy and dragging it upward toward her bum and then whipping the stiff leash over the other side of her bottom. She panted and closed her eyes.

Harry could see her balling her fists behind her back. The mix between the leather being moved through her crease and then coming down hard on her plump flesh was giving her goosebumps and making her heart race wildly.

He loved watching her try and hold still. She really was a good girl. Always doing her best to please him. He smirked to himself when he saw her face smushed into the blanket, her eyes pinched closed and her lips bitten and wet, small gasps falling from her mouth.

Harry grabbed her hair, yanking her neck back as he pushed a finger through her wet center, “You’re so naughty, Y/n. Such a slut for me aren’t you? Here I am spanking you with the leash you love me to put on your neck and you’re completely making a mess of the blankets under you,” he pushed a finger into her entrance and she moaned at the intrusion.

Looking down at the work he’s done he realized her arousal had gotten onto the leash and transferred to the skin on her bottom when he’d spanked her with it, “So dirty.”

Harry released her hair from his hand and unbuttoned his pants pulling his hard cock out of the front of his briefs and leaning over her bottom, his tip gliding up and down through her drenched cunt. He held onto her hands behind her back as he pushed into her.

She yelped into the comforter below her, the fabric muffling her noises. The feel of his big cock slipping into her and the plug taking up so much space felt achy and full.

He moaned at the feel of her. With the toy inside she was so tight and he could feel it pressing into her walls as he began to fuck down into her. The part of the toy that was sticking out was nudging up and down from the invasion of his cock inside of her with each press and pull.

She gasped and clenched involuntarily around him as he thrusted deep. She could feel the toy in her anus being pushed and prodded with each plunge of his cock into her pussy.

“If you’d been a good girl for me last night at the dinner,” he said as he bucked inward deeply and sharply, “I’d rub your clit for you to make it easier for you to come,” he spoke in between his plunges, “as it is… fffuckk…” he groaned when she clamped her pussy hard, “you were naughty,” he panted his words as he tapped the tip of the plug and then pulled at it before pushing it back into her.

Y/n bit down on the blanket as she moaned. She’d come without clitoral stimulation before and with the toy inside of her bum she knew she’d come again without it.

And when Harry began to fuck into her, rocking himself in hard and deep, his hips striking her ass as he set in with a hungry pace she felt his hand squeeze hers so he could guide her into him. The leather harness on her body was pinching into her skin, the front straps were crossed between her breasts causing them to squish together. It ached. His wide shaft pushed into her walls with slick glides, punching into her cervix every time his hips met her ass. The toy pinched and jostled inside her tight hole but she felt the sting that she loved when he put it in her.

In a sudden act of defiance, she turned her head to the side so she could speak, “Fuck my ass, Daddy. Want your cock in there. Now. Please!”

Harry groaned and pounded in harder, letting go of her wrist with one of his hands he brought his palm down and spanked hard making her cry out and jump, but he only held onto her tighter so he could push himself in deeper.

“My baby girl is asking for something she doesn’t deserve,” another strike to her bum as he continued mercilessly pounding her with his cock.

Y/n yelped and shook her head, “I’m a good girl- Ahhh!!”

Harry let go of her hand and pushed her down flat to the bed as he pulled his cock out. Harry was already feeling the buzz of his orgasm building. He needed to take it a little slower if he didn’t want to come too fast. He wanted to really give it to her good when he finally fucked her tightest hole. And he was all talk really. He wanted her to come and he would definitely be fucking her ass. He wanted it just as much as she did. It’d been a long time since he’d had the pleasure of having anal sex.

Standing up next to the bed he watched her writhe in agony at the loss of his cock and he smirked to himself as he rid himself of his clothes. He held onto his thick cock as he went through his bag and pulled out a dildo with a vibrator that stimulated the G-spot and the clit. He’d used it on her once before but she begged him to use his cock instead, which had him very pleased. She preferred the real thing. Of course, she did. But this time, Harry would have her pussy filled with the vibrator and her ass filled with him.

Kneeling behind her on the bed he popped her cheek again and pulled her hips upward, “Let’s get this out of here. Put something a little bigger inside. See if you can really handle me like you say you can.”

Y/n sighed and smiled as he slid the plug out and tossed it on the bed. She wiggled her bottom and in return, he smacked her bum hard, two strikes on each side, “Fffuck! Ow!!” She cried out and surged forward to get away from his spankings.

Harry grasped her hair and yanked her up, “Stay still like a good girl, Y/n. Or you won’t get anything you want today.”

Letting go of her hair he pushed her down by her neck back into the bed and smoothed a glob of lube over his cock and a little more onto her anus. It was a pretty view. Shiny and clenching, the back of her smooth thighs steadying herself as she squirmed the tiniest bit.

Holding his heavy dick up toward her ass he pressed the tip to her hole and then grasped onto her wrist with his other hand to keep her balanced as he was about to push into her with a firm thrust.

“I’m gonna wreck this hole, baby. Come inside of you and have you dripping with my come all down your pussy and your thighs,” he said as he rubbed the backs of her thighs, already slick with lube. She moaned in response.

Dipping into her he felt her stiffen at the intrusion. He was wider and longer than the plug. He only pushed in just passed her anus but could tell she was already feeling the difference in size.

“It’s okay. I’m gonna go in slow. Get you all opened up nice and wide for me. Can you relax a little baby girl?”

Y/n nodded, “Yes, Daddy. I’m gonna relax. Keep going…” Her words were breathy.

Pushing in a little more he watched as his dense cock slowly sunk in, little by little. He kept her steady holding her wrist and used his free hand to gently slip his fingers over her clit. He told her he wasn’t going to but he needed her to feel good. Wanted this to be enjoyable for her since it was her first time.

“Look at that… little girl… oooh fffuck,” he panted, “Daddy is the first to fuck your ass. How’s it feel?”

Y/n gurgled as she tried to open her throat to speak, “Goooood- yess!”

Harry smiled as he began to pump in and out slowly, “Yeah? You’re taking me so well baby. It feels fucking good doesn’t it?”

She could only nod as he filled her and backed himself out then pushed in harder. Slowly she felt the tingle of something yummy inside. The way he was gliding through her anus and into her rectum. Harry had talked her through everything the first time he introduced her to the idea of anal. Explained how it would work and that anal sex could sometimes be messy but not usually.

When he felt she was nicely opened up and enjoying it (and the way she was pushing against his thrusts told him as much) he removed his fingers from her clit and brought the vibrator up so she could see it, “Gonna make you stuffed full. Think you can handle this inside your cunt? Hm?”

Y/n nodded and moaned, “Yes. I can.”

Harry stopped rolling his hips into her and let go of her wrist as he placed the tip of the toy at her entrance. Pulling his cock out nearly all the way he pushed the toy into her pussy, thrusting a few times before bringing it back out to the tip and then pushed both the toy and his cock inward. Her small pants and gasps suddenly were hushed and her mouth drew open wide as she felt the thickness of his cock and the smooth length of the toy entering her at the same time.

Harry kept his hand on the base of the toy as he thrusted it into her slowly in time with his cock into her ass. He could tell it was a lot for her but she was so wet and her pussy was aching for something to fill it, “Want me to turn it on? Keep it deep inside of you while I fuck your bottom?”

Once again, she was unable to respond with words, only nodding her head and breathing deeply at the way she was being stretched and filled.

Harry pushed the toy in as far as it would reach, angling the nob at the front near her clit, and clicked it on. The moment the vibrations began to pulse through her insides he let out a soft moan and threw his head back. It felt good for him too. He felt the vibrations through her walls to his cock. He grabbed her wrists with one hand and kept the vibrator plunged in deep so the vibrations would hit her spots and her clit would be stimulated as he began to move into her again the tip of his cock was being stimulated every time he dipped in as far as he could go.

Y/n’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and drool pooled under her mouth on the comforter. Her small whimpers and huffs were hushed as he continued a slow, sensual pace into her. She felt his fingers tighten around her wrist as his moans grew louder and his hips stuttered each time he thrust. Every little bump and nudge and stroke into her was on fire. Her body began to shake and the pressure built up from her core and spread like lava to her pussy and down her thighs.

She was going to come and there was nothing that was going to stop it. She could also feel the deep forceful snap inside that meant she was about to make a big mess. Maybe bigger than any of her past messes.

Harry had made her squirt a handful of times. One of the times was pretty significant and soaked the bed he slept on with Romy. He’d had her at his home tied up to the bed while Romy was out for the night with “girlfriends” (which thinking back on all the times Romy was out made him wonder). He knew it was risky fucking his mistress in his home but he didn’t care when it came to Y/n. Somehow he’d subconsciously already resigned himself to it being over with Romy. Even though he did still love her at that time, he could say for certain he was no longer in love with his wife. Not when he had Y/n who took such good care of him, who loved everything he did to her. Who begged and pleaded with him just to suck him off. Who looked at him as if he were hers. And he was hers. Just like she was his. Y/n was his little girl. The one he wanted to keep around for good. It hadn’t started that way but he was in too deep now.

She couldn’t warn him that she was about to let loose. It was as if having her pussy and her ass filled at the same time rendered her speechless. Dumb. She could barely breathe let alone think a coherent thought. The smallest noises falling from her lips were all she could articulate when she suddenly stilled and wailed loudly as her body convulsed. Harry saw the liquid drip down her thighs and to the mattress and realized what was going on. He pulled the toy out and it was like a small shower had been turned on and poured from her down to the bed. She whined and choked out cries as she squirted. Harry stilled his hips to watch and let her release the way she needed.

“Fffuck baby girl! Fffuck…” he loved watching it. When she’d squirted all over his bed at his home he wanted to take a video of it. But this one was more intense. More liquid poured from her as she writhed and thrashed under him. He attempted to keep her still so he didn’t need to pull out, not wanting to remove his cock from her warm hole.

When she’d finished she was panting and mumbling. Her legs were jelly but Harry held her up so he could continue. He started up again, moving his hips into her, his knees wet with her liquid, the bed would have to be cleaned up and he’d need to call for someone to come and give them new sheets but he was high with lust as he was about to come.

“Put it back in, Daddy- Please…” Y/n whispered.

Harry chuckled and picked the toy back up to put it back in, “Want me to turn it back on or was that too much?”

“Yes. On.”

Y/n had squirted but she hadn’t orgasmed like she needed. That was something else she learned with Harry. Squirting doesn’t always mean you’ve come. It’s a great feeling but it’s not the same and she’d been so close to coming before her body gave in to the pressure that had built up inside of her.

Harry put the toy in all the way and turned it on again. His cock was throbbing, ready to release into her but he knew she was about to come and he wanted to feel her coming before letting himself go.

His thrusts were gentle as he was in as far as he could go, his frenulum vibrating from the toy in her vagina. He started to see white and his ears started to ring as he felt her anus close and pulse around him.

He kept his eyes on her but he couldn’t see her face and she was silent so when she started coming he could only tell by the way her body began shaking and her back arched deep, her thighs stiffened against his thrusts.

“Oh baby, fuck!” Harry growled as he came inside of her. He wanted to hold out longer but everything felt so good. His cock was being squeezed and the vibrations had him on edge since he turned the toy on the first time.

They both came together, Harry the only one moaning and cursing as he released. Y/n couldn’t peep a noise as her mouth was wide and spit slid down her chin.

Harry’s sloppy thrusts came to a halt as he spilled into her, moving his hand from her wrist to hold one of her hands as he stilled his hips and gasped with his orgasm.

When he’d finally begun to come down he noticed Y/n was silent still. He gradually pulled the toy out of her and gently, softly removed his cock, holding her hips steady as he watched his warm come slowly drip from her.

“You okay, Y/n? Talk to me sweetheart,” he spoke quietly as he kept his eyes on her ass.

He heard her grunt a response and he leaned around to see her face, pulling her down to her side to face him. Her eyes were closed and her face was wet. The girl was spent. He wiped at the drool at the edge of her mouth and sighed. His sweet girl.

Unhooking her wrists and the harness from her body he called for housekeeping and a new set of sheets, “Yes, just come in and change the sheets out. We’ll be in the bathroom so please just come in. You won’t disturb us.”

He knew Y/n would need a bit to come back a little. A soak in the tub would help. It usually did.

And she did come back slowly. Everything was fuzzy and felt sweet and soft as she realized she was sitting in a tub of water with Harry behind her, speaking softly into her ear, “Tomorrow I’ve got a big surprise for you. I hope you like it.”

She didn’t know what he was talking about but she finally could speak, her words coming out in a soft croak, “I know I’ll like it.”

“There she is. You’re back to me now. How are you feeling?”

Y/n nodded and smiled, “So good. You always make me feel so good.”

Harry smiled and kissed the soft spot of skin near her ear.

When her brain started to piece everything together she began thinking in the silence as she was leaning her back against his chest in the soaker tub and she was beginning to feel her limbs again.

Harry was softly rubbing his hands up and down her arms as she got the nerve to finally ask him about what had been on her mind, “What will you do?”

He sighed and put his lips to her neck, a soft peck before bending his knees and wrapping his arms around her. He knew what she meant. And he didn’t really know the answer. It was a complicated situation. Divorce could be very ugly. It could take a long time. There was a lot of money between Harry and his wife.

“I need to talk to Sean and then Romy before making any decisions. I’m not sure yet what will happen.”

Y/n hoped he’d want to talk to her about it. He had the night before. A little. She understood that he was hurt because Sean was his friend. And that was the part that he was most upset about. But she still felt like she could listen and be there for him. But of course, it was clear he wasn’t interested in talking to her about it. So she kept quiet with her thoughts.

And Harry noticed her retreating into her head. When they’d settled into bed on the clean sheets, and she pulled the covers over herself he could practically hear her brain working overtime. The chronic overthinker that she was.

He knew what she wanted but he hadn’t even had a moment to really think about it himself. And even though he could see her feelings were a little hurt he couldn’t bring himself to open up to her about it all just yet but that was only because he really didn’t want to even think about it.

He climbed into the bed next to her and reached an arm out to push her hair back from her forehead, “Don’t overthink. Okay?”

. . .

The next morning Harry picked out her clothes for her and made her eat breakfast. He helped her move around as she was quite sore. Putting her into his car he pulled out of the parking garage and began to tell her their plans.

“I’m gonna show you something right now. Then we’ll figure out a few things for how to proceed further. Okay? But I want it all to be a surprise so I’m not telling you until we get there.”

Y/n was still in a state of leftover bliss. She’d gone into her subspace the night before and slept like the dead after their bath. She was content and just happy to be with Harry doing whatever it was he wanted.

When they pulled up to a walk-up brownstone, Harry parked out front. There was a small gated-off yard, just big enough for a small patch of flowers and a shrub. He held her hand as they walked up the handful of steps to the front door.

He was quiet as he brought her inside. The place was gorgeous. Tall windows and lovely wood floors, a lot of vintage features but the place was clearly updated from the days it was built. A fireplace in the front room a kitchen at the back and stairs that led up to three bedrooms and a couple of bathrooms.

He let her explore the place. She was quiet all throughout, not quite sure what this was, and certainly not wanting to get her hopes up or jump to conclusions.

Finally, once they got to the only room that was decorated with furniture, the master bedroom, Harry spoke, “What do you think?”

Y/n turned to look at him curiously and then looked out of the window, “It’s a lovely house. I think it’s beautiful.”

Harry came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her front, “It’s yours if you want. I started the process of buying the place not long after I met you. I intended on this being yours but given my new circumstances, I figure there’s room for us both. I don’t want you living in that shitty apartment anymore. This neighborhood is safer and closer to everything.”

She turned quickly pulling away and looked at him with shock, “What? Harry, I can’t – there’s no way!”

He tsk’d her and pulled her back into his arms closer, “You can and you will. I won’t accept no. This is for us. You will be moving in here. If you want to be with me.”

She puffed out a breath and frowned, “Harry… but- tell me what this means. I’m confused right now and… you said last night you didn’t know what you were going to do about Romy and if you’re going to continue being married to her I feel like this is too much. Right? We can’t just move in together while you’re married.”

Harry grasped her chin, “Shhh… Romy doesn’t matter anymore. She has no say over anything. I want you, Y/n. All to myself.”

She didn’t know what it meant still. Shaking her head to loosen the grip he had on her chin she spoke, “But what about you? I can’t have you all to myself, and if I can’t… then-“ she clenched her jaw and felt herself get overwhelmed. She hadn’t wanted to say any of that but the whole thing had her feeling emotional and unsure. She wanted him to herself. She didn’t want to share him with Romy or any other woman. She was in love and if he only wanted her there with him for convenience because she was some kind of plaything well her heart would simply burst and she’d cease to live.

“I’m yours, baby. I’ve been yours. I want you with me. You and me. Together.”

Being the overthinker she was, though, she couldn’t let go of her doubt and her concern, “But… you don’t want a relationship. Right? I can’t be just some-“

Harry shushed her and pressed his lips over hers as he chuckled, “I do, darling. Is that okay? You’ll be my girl. My only girl. And I’ll be your man. Whatever you want to call that. You’re so important to me, Y/n.”

She felt stupid tears rush down her cheeks. She wanted a real commitment from him and this all sounded like just that. But with worry on her face, she took a deep breath, “No one else? Like you would – be my boyfriend? For real?”

Harry grinned and pressed his forehead to hers. He knew she wanted him to say it to put her mind at ease. And the truth was that the title felt silly to him. He felt she was so much more than just his girlfriend. He was falling for her and he wanted her in his life for good.

“My sweet girl,” Harry thumbed at her tears and kissed the edge of her mouth, “I want you forever. My lover, my friend, my partner. You’re more than just some girlfriend. I’m serious about you, baby.”

Her face grew wetter when she sobbed out in a quiet cry and tried to hide her face in embarrassment. It had been all she wanted and he was offering it all to her. She hated that she’d gotten so worked up and overwhelmed but really, her reaction was quite normal. She’d always been emotional and easy to overwhelm.

Harry rubbed her back and pulled her with him to sit on his lap at the edge of the bed. He let her calm down as he gently ran his hand over her shoulders and then brought his fingers into her hair.

She appreciated that he always knew when to just sit and let her compose herself. She put her hands up to his chest and pushed back to look up at him, once again, positive she looked like a lunatic just as the night before with her running mascara and puffy face.

His green eyes were looking over her face as he cupped her cheeks, “So pretty,” his thumbs ran under her eyes to wipe at her tears, “are you okay?”

Nodding her head she put her own hands over his.

“Good. Now, how about you tell me again how excited you are about all of this? How you can’t wait to move in with me here?” he grinned.

She smiled timidly and blinked her eyes, “I’m so excited. Thank you for this.”

. . .

After going to her apartment to pack a few things up and put them into Harry’s trunk they drove to his house. Y/n was nervous, though. There was a possibility that Romy was there and Y/n would be facing her for the first time in this context.

“There’s nothing to worry about. Really. First, she’s probably not there anyway. And even if she is there’s nothing she can say or do that you should listen to. In this case, she’s in the wrong. Okay?”

Even though she nodded, she wasn’t sure.

But of course, once they got there she was not at the house. Just as he’d said.

It was a relief that they could grab the few things Harry wanted to bring with him that night to their new place. Which Y/n hadn’t quite wrapped her mind around. Everything had happened so fast and it was very unexpected. But he said he bought the place with her in mind originally.

Harry stuffed an oversized suitcase with clothes and filled a box with shoes and a few other things, “We can come back to get the rest another time. I think this is good for now.”

“Okay. So should we go?” Y/n was still nervous about running into Romy. She was ready to just leave. She’d be happy to never see Romy again if she could help it.

“Why the rush, little girl? Afraid you’re gonna get caught here with me? Hm?”

Nodding her head, she moved into his arms at his urging, “I always say this and it’s the truth. You don’t need to worry about anything. Okay? You’re safe with me. Romy is no one to be scared of. Understood?”

Keeping her eyes on his she nodded again but it didn’t help her nerves soften in the slightest. The idea that Romy could walk in at any moment was giving her anxiety. And she knew that Romy wouldn’t do anything to her and that Harry was right but that didn’t quell her being on edge.

“Here, let’s sit and have a glass of wine. Relax a little.”

The stools at the kitchen island were large and comfortable. The moment she sat down she felt the smallest bit better. Her nerves were still there but she did her best to push it down for Harry.

He turned on music from his phone connected to the Bluetooth speakers and poured two glasses of wine.

He knew they should be going. He knew that it was possible that Romy would show up. But there was something in him that wanted Romy to see him moving on. To see him with someone else so she’d know she hadn’t hurt him. He hated when there was the possibility that someone thought they somehow had the upper hand and he didn’t want Romy feeling like that. Feeling that she’d broken her husband's heart and having pity on him. That was unacceptable. So while it might have been a little deceptive of him, he stalled in hopes of stomping out any pity Romy might feel for him. He wanted her to see him happy with someone else because he was happy.

Harry moved his stool close to Y/n’s and put his hand in between her thighs with one hand and sipped his wine with the other.

Y/n realized that his hand was going higher under her dress. And Harry had insisted she not wear underwear so she suddenly felt very much like this was his plan all along. She often couldn’t decide on things or make decisions but she wasn’t dumb. She turned to look at him, putting her own hand on his, “Harry! What are you doing?”

Harry’s smirk as looked down at Y/n was telling, “Whatever I want. Unless you don’t want me to. Then I won’t. But… Y/n…” he said inching his hand up further and meeting no resistance, “I know how to make you feel good and make you forget all your worries,” he licked his lips as he continued, “How to ease your nerves and make you smile and moan. I can do that for you now. One last hurrah in the old house. What do you think?”

She was sure she should shake her head no and insist they leave but the proximity of his face to hers, his bright green eyes, his fingers on her thigh, the idea of perhaps getting caught… it felt like a yes to her so she nodded.

Harry kissed her the moment she nodded yes. His girl was so good. She was just perfect for him.

He pulled her into his lap, making her move from her stool to his, keeping her back toward the island he lifted her skirt up and peeked at her bare pussy, “I think it was a great choice to make you go sans panties.”

He slowly rubbed her clit and pulled at her to connect their lips again. He would love to just put her in his pocket and bring her with him everywhere. To work, to the gym, to boring dinner meetings… Make her quit school and just be his little accessory to fuck and play with all the time. But as his lips were slotting into hers and he felt her warm tongue swipe his bottom lip he moaned and felt the pad of his finger over her clit get a little wet. He didn’t just want her like an accessory. She was more than that to him. He truly was serious about her. Wanted it all with her.

He’d never really wanted kids. Romy had never sparked that kind of feeling in him. Never really thought they’d make good parents. But with Y/n, he’d trust her to be a mother to his kids. To take care of them and him. And he’d take care of her. His sweet girl was something special. More special and better than anyone else to him.

“Baby… You’re so good to me, you know that?” He spoke as he pulled away from the kiss while his finger continued working over her clit.

“I want to be.”

“You are. You have been. Don’t doubt how amazing you are. You’re the best. I need you.”

Y/n was still overwhelmed. This day had been completely wild to her. The new place as well as Harry’s admissions of his feelings.

When he put a finger into her entrance she sucked in a sharp breath, not expecting him to begin fingering into her in the kitchen. She was already nice and wet for him. Harry kept her back against the island and her thighs parted over his thighs so he could see. The wet sound of her pussy getting finger fucked and the sultry look in his eyes had her mind suddenly being overcome with feelings and emotions. She needed to say it.

“Daddy… I love you.” She gasped the moment the words left her mouth. Immediately regretting it but suddenly he pushed in another finger and pulled her into his chest and pressed his mouth to hers hard. The kiss was wet and sloppy just like the way he was fingering her.

She rocked over his pants and felt him bulk up under the fabric and he moaned.

Harry got dizzy when he heard those three words coming from her. They’d been on the tip of his tongue too but he was worried it was too soon. She was so young and he didn’t want her to feel more pressure or overwhelmed. He didn’t want to say it and have her run away or even worse, feel like she needed to say it back so she didn’t hurt his feelings. But she’d said it first. And now he was on top of the world.

“Fuck, baby girl. I need to have you now. You love me? Love Daddy?” He backed away from the kiss and pulled his fingers out of her cunt.

She nodded with big eyes and hot cheeks. She felt a little embarrassed, but his reaction seemed positive. Though he didn’t say the words back to her.

“You don’t know how happy that makes me,” Harry helped her off his lap and stood up as he began to unbutton his shirt, “Take your dress off.”

Y/n, as always, was quick to do as she was told. She had nothing on under her dress so the moment it was slipped over her head and dropped to the floor she was completely naked.

Harry pushed his pants down, the front of them damped from her arousal. He kicked them to the side of the stool and then pulled his underwear down before bringing his lover back into his arms, capturing her lips with his. Lowering his hands around her back and down over her bottom he ran his fingers through her wet folds from the back and his cock nudged at her pussy from the front.

She held onto his biceps as he pulled her thigh up, hitching it over his hip, and put his cock at her entrance, her back to the island.

When he’d pushed his thick head into her they both moaned and gripped one another tight as he began to fuck into her right in the kitchen.

In a quick movement, he lifted her up to the island, putting her bare bottom on the cold marble, and thrust back into her again. She keened and planted her feet flat onto the island top with her legs spread wide for his access as he fucked her.

Their lips crashed together again as he rolled his hips into her slowly. Soft gasps and pants between kisses filled the space around them.

Harry’s cock was slick with Y/n, her little cunt wet and open for him as he plunged in, his thighs working himself into her, “Fuck me, little girl. So fucking good for Daddy-“

“Oh my god!”

The screeching of Romy’s voice and then the gasp of a man had Harry stopping his thrusts. Y/n hid her face into Harry’s chest and he covered her with his arms as he turned to look over his shoulder at his wife and his best friend with jaws dropped in shock at the scene.

“Oh, hello Romy, Sean. Nice to see you two again. If you don’t mind. I’m in the middle of something here. We’d like some privacy.”

“The fuck Harry!! What is this? You can’t do this here!”

Harry chuckled and kissed Y/n’s forehead whispering to her, “Don’t worry sweetheart. Just hold on to me tight.”

“Fine. We’ll go to the bedroom over here to finish up. Don’t mind the clothes. We’ll get them on the way out after we’re done.”

Harry lifted Y/n, holding her under her thighs as she kept her face tucked into his chest. He walked them to the guest bedroom that was nearest to the kitchen and laid her on the bed before closing the door and locking it.

This was what she had been nervous about but it was worse. Because she was naked and on his cock when Romy came home. She felt her heart whacking around in her chest as Harry knelt on the bed next to her, “Are you okay, my love?”

She didn’t know. She was horny and nervous and feeling so many things so she just looked at him as she propped herself up by her elbows, “I don’t know.”

Harry nodded and laid down next to her, pulling her in close, “Relax. Okay? Can you relax? Do you want to just go? We can walk out there now, get out clothes and get out of here.”

“I don’t want them to see me.”

“Who gives a fuck about them? What do you want? Hm? Want me to continue where we just left off? Make you come on my cock? I think you’ll feel all better once you have an orgasm.”

She puffed out a laugh through her nose. She couldn’t believe this man. His wife had just caught him fucking someone and he was asking if she wanted to continue. When his hand smoothed down her side and over the curve of her hip he pulled her hips flush to his where his cock was still hard and pressed against her pelvis.

She gulped down her saliva and kept her eyes on Harry’s as he slowly moved his heavy dick through her crease, nudging her clit over and over again.

She sucked in a deep breath and felt herself tingle from excitement and from the taboo of it. Maybe this could be the thing that proved Harry was hers. He wasn’t anyone else’s. Certainly not Romy’s.

“I’m still so wet for you,” she whispered as she raised her thigh and draped it over his. Harry was taken aback by her bit of boldness. She wanted to be fucked.

“You are, aren’t you? We need to take advantage of this don’t we?” He said as he poked his bulbous head into her entrance.

Y/n nodded quickly and pushed herself down over him, causing his thick tip to drive inside of her past her muscle and she moaned quietly.

They’d never had sex in that position before. In their nearly two months of fucking, he’d never had sex with her on her side facing him. It felt intimate. They watched each other as Harry slowly moved himself in and out of her, long wet strokes, his hips snapping inward as he bottomed out to push in deeper. Her tiny yelps at the way he pushed into her so fully were hushed at first. She tried to keep her voice down.

But then once Harry found a good rhythm and he began to slick himself in to the hilt on each stroke her moans and gasps grew louder as did the bed they were on. The bed frame squeaked and their skin slapped together as they kept their eyes locked.

“Oh!!” Y/n groaned loudly when Harry pulled her hips in closer so he could grind into her, circling his hips to lodge himself into her guts.

Harry suddenly pulled out and got onto his back, pulling her over him, “Gonna fuck you like this, want to hold you close to me when we come together.”

Harry pushed himself in and dragged his cock out and then fucked up into her slowly. Part of Y/n wished the bed wasn’t so creaky but another part of her enjoyed that Romy could hear the bed frame in time with his thrusts along with her gasps and moans, and Harry’s grunts and words of praise.

He smacked her bottom and she clenched and cooed, “Ahh!”

Harry smiled as he worked himself into her. His cock was so hard and he was so turned on with his sweet girl riding his cock and hopefully the two intruders outside the door were able to hear it all. He wanted them to know he didn’t give a fuck about them. The only thing that mattered was his girl.

He felt her rolling her hips into him, her breaths deepened as he held her close in his arms, not letting up his movements. Her soft insides swallowed him as he jerked his hips up, filling her with his cock.

“Feels so good doesn’t it? Fuck! Making Daddy’s cock feel so good. So messy baby.”

And it was messy. Y/n could even feel how wet everything was between them. Every plunge of his cock into her guts had her clit rubbing at his pubic bone and the hairs above his dick. Her body was shaking as she let him ravage her and pump his thick shaft through her walls, only going in harder as he got closer to his own end.

“Yes! Feels really good,” she panted her words and Harry wrapped his lips around hers as his own thighs began to shake. She was squeezing around him so good it was making his head spin.

“Come for Daddy. Show everyone who you belong to.”

She gasped and felt heat spreading through her insides, her clit throbbing at the stimulation from him.

“Please! Oh!”

The noise coming from the room was hard to hide. The sound of slapping of skin, the bed bouncing, moans and gasps and hushed words… Of course, the occasional sound of Harry’s hand spanking Y/n’s plump bottom was heard as well.

But inside the room, the lovers could also hear how wet everything was. Y/n’s pussy was dripping and it was going to make a mess of the bed.

“Yeah? Wanna come, baby girl? Need it so bad don’t you?”

“Fffffuck! Yes!”

Pressing his mouth back over hers she suddenly stiffened and her pussy fluttered as she spiraled on his twitching cock. Her moan was loud and breathy, her mouth opened wide. Harry tried to keep his lips over hers to kiss her through her orgasm but then his own started, his spine shivering as he poured into her, his groan was vulgar, “FFfuck!”

The bed didn’t stop squeaking until Harry had finally come down, slowing the movement of his hips and the thrusts into her. Y/n was spent with her cheek pressed to his pec.

Harry tightened his arms around her and kissed her forehead, “Baby girl… you’re so fucking good. Make me come so fast. Mmm…” he smiled and planted another soft kiss on her temple.

Y/n moaned and smiled to herself. She loved him so much and she didn’t know if he loved her but she knew he liked that she loved him and so that was enough for her at that moment.

Harry slowly pulled out and rolled her to her back, “Stay here. I’ll get our clothes.”

Walking into the kitchen buck naked, Harry was relieved that Romy and Sean weren’t there. He didn’t know if they were still in the house or not but for Y/n’s sake not having them right next to the room where they’d been fucking was probably for the best.

Harry helped her put her clothes on and wiped her drippy pussy up so she didn’t make a mess in his car or on her clothes. Harry spoke softly to her, reassuring her everything was okay.

As they exited the house with Harry’s things Sean suddenly appeared, “Can I talk to you?”

Harry kissed Y/n’s cheek and patted her bottom, “Go get in the car.”

Walking back inside with Sean, he crossed his arms over his chest, “Two minutes.”

“Is that Y/n?”

“Yes. Now what is it that you’d like to talk to me about?”

Sean rubbed his hands over his face and shook his head, “Look man, I never meant for this to happen. I’m sorry. Really. It just… I don’t know. One day it just happened and I couldn’t stop it. I fell in love.”

Harry kept himself quiet as his gaze seared into Sean’s face. His best friend was no longer a friend. Even if he no longer loved Romy it was a betrayal.

“Say something. Please. We need to know you’re okay, Harry.”

Harry laughed incredulously, “Am I okay? You two fucked up. I’m fine. I’m in love with someone else anyway. Romy and I lost our love a long time ago. Perhaps if you’d just been honest from the get-go we could have avoided this whole disaster. But as it stands, you and I are done. I’ll buy your portion of the stock and you can go do what you want with the rest but I won’t work with someone who’s a liar. Someone who’s gone behind my back for, what’s it been, Sean? A year? More?”

Just then Romy was standing next to Sean, “You can’t do that, Harry. Besides you’ve been fucking someone on the side too so-“

“Oh, that’s bold of you, Romy. You’ve been cheating on me with my best friend and work partner for a year before you finally decided to let me have some fun of my own. You gave me the idea to find someone on the side. That wasn’t my suggestion. That was yours.”

“But you said you’re in love with her, I heard you. My rules were-”

“What the fuck does that matter now? Your rules were selfish. You’ve been in love with someone else all this time and you could have told me a long time ago but instead, you lied to me and cheated on me. So fuck your rules and fuck you, Romy.”

Sean and Romy looked at one another before Harry continued, “I’m leaving. I’ll have some movers come in and take a few things I want but you can keep everything else. You’ll hear from my lawyer soon. Both of you.”

Harry walked out of the house, slamming the door behind him. Now it felt like he could finally move on with his life and he’d have Y/n with him for it. No more wasting time waiting for anything else to work in his favor.

Getting into the car with her he didn’t want to wait another moment to say it – and while it was not the most romantic way in which to tell her, he thought he’d drown if he didn’t spit it out right then especially after having just told Romy and Sean of his feelings for her. Pulling her across the console into his arms he kissed her and then pressed his forehead to hers, “I love you so much, baby girl. You mean everything to me.”

. . .

“Hi. I was looking for Martin. Does he still live here by chance?

The guy at the door nodded and cupped his hands around his mouth, “Estes! Someone’s here to see you!”

Harry waited on the porch and looked around. It was clearly a college neighborhood. Small cheapish cars, unkept lawns, garbage bins left at the curb when they should have been moved away days ago… The house wasn’t a frat house or anything that Harry could tell. Probably just a place where rent was split between everyone living in the house.

Martin stepped outside and looked Harry up and down, “Can I help you?”

“No. You can’t,” Harry spoke as he stepped toward the guy, causing him to back up a little.

“I don’t know who you are, man. You need to leave-“

“I don’t need to do anything you say,” Harry said as he put his hand around the young man’s throat and pushed him into the wall next to the front door, “because you’re a piece of shit who likes to hurt women. Isn’t that right, Martin?”

The guy tried pushing at Harry’s chest as his face grew red, “Get off me!”

Harry squeezed harder, silencing him, “No. I won’t. Just like when you wouldn’t stop hitting a sweet young girl when she needed you to stop. You hurt her and all these years later still recalls what you did to her.”

Martin’s face was beet red as he shook his head, his hands grasping at Harry’s forearm, unable to utter a word with the way Harry’s hand was pressing into his larynx, “Her name is Y/n. Do you remember her? The prettiest and sweetest thing you’ve probably ever laid eyes on and you hurt her. You’re lucky we’re in public right now and that she’d undoubtedly not appreciate me coming here and talking to you in this manner. Because otherwise, I’d beat you so hard your fucking legs would never work again you piece of dog shit. This is your warning to keep your hands to yourself unless given permission. When someone tells you to stop you fucking stop – especially when it’s a girl. To hurt her while she’s in a vulnerable position and you’re supposed to be having fun is low and trashy.”

Harry let go of his neck and the guy immediately put his hands up to his throat and spit at Harry.

Harry was just going to leave it. He was going to give him the warning and leave but to be spat at?

Turning to face Martin, Harry reared his fist back and punched the guy in his jaw hard, cracking a tooth in the process, his rings digging into the skin and cutting the flesh.

Grabbing his neck again and through clenched teeth he spoke, “If I see you ever again I will demolish you. You’ll wish you never met her or me. You better pray neither of us ever lay eyes on you after today. Now go and clean yourself up you low-life son of a bitch.”

Harry pushed Martin down, making him tumble onto the porch as he walked away to his car, not turning back to see if he got up or not.

. . .

Y/n had never done so well in school before. Thanks to her new living situation, the man of her dreams, no stress, as well as being well fed and well fucked.

She was no longer worried about changing her major or trying to figure out what she wanted because she didn’t need to worry at all. Harry told her to finish what she’d started, to get her degree and he could help her find something after college if she wanted. And having him tell her to finish was all she needed to hear. So that was that.

Her nights with Harry were so sweet and anyone from the outside would assume very domestic. But the truth was that their sex life was only better with their new arrangement. Their bedroom was set up to play. Harry had her help him in choosing things they’d want to use. And since she was new to it all she learned as she went, Harry guiding her gently and introducing her to everything he loved.

And he knew she was kinky. He knew before he’d even fucked her. He had a feeling. But every time he tried something new with her she only wanted more. Begged him and asked lots of questions. She was curious and fun. And he loved that she was the way she was.

But he knew her all-time favorite was to be totally tied up, unable to move a muscle as he did what he wished. And with their current setup, he could have her secured to the middle of the bed, her arms tied to the bar that hung above (sometimes her legs too), and her ankles strapped down to the bedpost at the foot.

She was half suspended in the air as Harry fucked her from behind and each time he paddled her bottom he thrust inward quickly and deeply. Her shaky moans were raspy as her voice had been strained. Harry had been going at it with her for quite a while. He’d fuck her for five minutes, making her pussy throb and her body jolt as he pounded into her, but then he’d stop. Stepping away with his long, pretty cock swaying as he sipped champagne and watched his sweet girl.

“Had enough, baby girl? Or are you ready to finally come?”

The deal was that she needed to admit to Harry that she was pretty. That she was out of Harry’s league by far. He told her he wanted to hear her say it. To tell him that she was a catch. But for some reason, she just wouldn’t.

Harry walked to the bed where Y/n was tied up and leaned over her back, kissing her shoulder blade, “You have to see it, my love. So pretty and soft,” he said as he ran his finger down her back and to the curve of her bottom, “so perfect and smart. A knockout. Amazing in bed. Too good for me.”

She shook her head, lifting her neck to meet his eyes, “I’m not. You’re better in every way.”

Harry brought the paddle down to her ass again, smacking her harder than he had earlier, and she gasped sharply.

“We’ll do this all night if you want. If you insist on defying me. You know you’re being naughty right? This isn’t what good girls do, Y/n. If you were a good girl you’d tell me what I asked you to. Are you not a good girl for Daddy anymore?”

Y/n groaned and let her head hang down as she swallowed. She had a hard time saying or even thinking that she was in any way better than Harry. She simply didn’t believe it. He was her whole world and there was no way she was even close to being as amazing as he was.

Harry lifted her face to look at him as he pushed her up by her chin, “Say it. Tell me right now and I’ll put you out of your misery. Come on, baby. Be a good girl for Daddy.”

Choking out a sob she shook her head, keeping her eyes on his, “No! I’m not a good girl today. I’m sorry but I can’t. I’m sorry, Daddy.”

Harry rolled his eyes and let go of her face, moving to angle himself over her again, paddling both cheeks, twice each.

She yelped and cried out, letting her head droop downward.

Harry knelt in front of her, putting the paddle down, and cupped her face, “Look at me.”

When she moved her eyes to look at him he continued, ‘Do you know how much I love you?”

She nodded. Harry thumbed at her cheeks.

“Then you know that you’re worth loving right?”

Again, Y/n nodded, keeping her eyes on his.

“Right. So you can admit that? That you’re worth loving? I want to hear you say that to me.”

“I’m worth loving.”

“Good girl. I love you. I adore you. Now repeat that to me. Tell me that you’re loved and adored.

“You love me and you adore me,” she smiled softly.

Harry leaned in to kiss her lips.

He was going to make sure she understood how amazing she was. From the beginning, he’d wanted to work on her self-confidence. They’d made some strides but she was still unsure of herself and often said things about herself that Harry didn’t like. He wanted his girl to feel happy and proud of who she was. He’d see to it that she eventually got there.

That was good enough for tonight. When he couldn’t get her to say she was amazing and beautiful in her own right, he could always get her to admit that he felt that way about her, and to him, it was a step in the right direction.

“Okay. That was good. Next time we’ll get a little further, promise? Next time you’ll tell me how pretty and smart you are all on your own. Right?”

Y/n widened her eyes, not sure if she could but she’d try. She wanted to believe him. Believe that she was everything he said. And she was becoming convinced. Because if a guy like him loved a girl like her then there had to be some truth to it.

Harry got himself back into position behind her and held her hips. Her body swayed slightly as he pressed his hips to her bottom. She was already spread out for him with her ankles tied to the bedpost at the foot of the bed.

He painted the crown of his cock through her wet crease and spoke softly to her as he pushed back in, “Such a good girl for Daddy when you want to be. Gonna make you come now, okay baby girl?”

Y/n lazily nodded her head and moaned when she felt his wide tip enter her tight muscle. Every time he thrust in her body was pushed forward and her tits swayed. Being fucked while partly suspended was unlike anything she could describe. To not be able to really use her limbs except to tense her shoulders to relieve the pressure on her joints was thrilling. She loved the way Harry handled her and spoke to her and loved how his cock sliced through her guts so deep and sharp.

Her head rocked back and forth as Harry plunged into her over and over again, long languid strokes into her wet pussy as he pinched at her bottom and spread her cheeks.

But the moment he pressed the vibrator to her clit as he continued fucking into her she felt herself snap and pussy her gripped his cock as she started to convulse.

“Fuck, baby. Coming on my cock already? Yesss, squeeze it, little girl. Fuck…” Harry was already losing it. He’d been at it with her for just over an hour. Not only was he edging her he was edging himself in the process.

Y/n was rendered speechless. She found that she was speechless often when she orgasmed with him. Especially when he’d built it up for so long. She’d come hard and it would scramble her brains. Her vision would go blank and her ears would ring.

Harry sunk into her one final time as he started to come, his throbbing cock lodged in deep, his warm sperm coating her insides as he groaned and leaned over her back.

When Y/n was being lowered to the bed, her arms released from the rope she finally opened her eyes. Harry kissed her elbows and her wrists where the rope had marked her a little and then lifted her up to bring her to the bath he’d drawn for them.

Pulling her into the warm bubbles he handed her a glass of water, “Drink.”

She took a few large gulps and then collapsed with her back into his chest.

“You did so good today. Gonna do better next time, though.”

Y/n nodded, “I know. Sorry. I’m trying.”

Harry kissed the back of her head as he spoke, “I know sweet girl. But stop saying you’re sorry. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

She hummed in agreement and nodded her head.

“Look at how far we’ve come. From just being friends with an arraignment to being lovers living together.”

Y/n smiled, “Yeah. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Harry.”

Harry wrapped his arms tight around her and pressed his lips to her neck with a sigh, “And you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You know that right?”

Closing her eyes and letting his words sink in she realized that he wasn’t lying to her. She trusted him. So why was it so hard to repeat what he said?

“Yes, I know.”

Harry grinned. That made him proud. He loved how sweet and compliant she was but he did want her to feel more confident and feel worthy of everything he gave her and of his feelings for her.

“Good girl. I think you deserve to be collared all day tomorrow. How’s that sound? Want to be Daddy’s little slave tomorrow?”

She nodded her head and hummed her affirmation. She couldn’t think of a better way to spend a Sunday than to be collared and dominated by Harry Styles.

blurb-the office visit*

This is the final part to this short series! If you want more please send in requests!

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pandoraslxna · 4 months

Text

❄️ Kinkmas — 04. By the fire ❄️

Neteyam x female omatikaya reader

⋆｡° ✮ Minors dni 🔞

⋆｡° ✮ Kinkmas Masterlist

⋆｡° ✮ Warnings: teasing, slight dom/sub dynamics

⋆｡° ✮ Adult Neteyam art by the amazing @cinetrix 🩵

⋆｡° ✮ Translation: tanhì = star, bioluminescent freckle

Neteyam sits in his usual place by the fire, sunk deep in the task of weaving what seemed to be a fishing net of sorts.

His brows are furrowed in concentration as he loops a thin cord between skilled fingers, tying knot after knot to make the pattern complete. The rest of the marui pod was quiet.

Outside, snow fell in brilliant flurries, melting into nothings and fusing into one with the great wide ocean.

You watched him in peaceful silence for a while, as the logs crackled and snapped in the hearth. A warm glow illuminates his features and lights up even the faintest stripes that were otherwise barely visible on his dark blue skin. It made the muscles on his arms and abs more prominent, too, you realized, swallowing the salvia that pooled in your mouth at the sight.

"You know it's impolite to stare a man down", Neteyam mused as he pulled the cord tight, not looking up at you as he spoke. The sound of his voice ultimately snapped you out of your thoughts, yet you couldn’t ignore the effect this view had on you.

"Hmh, I know", you spoke softly, shrugging your shoulders in a way of playful innocence. It made his lips curve into a knowing smile.

You wanted him, and even though you had no idea how exactly he did it, Neteyam always knew it as well. In the past it had been such a struggle to keep yourself from pulling your mate straight away into bed, but tonight, oh tonight, you just needed him. You needed him here and now, needed him in the worst way possible.

There wasn't any graceful way of saying it and worse, there wasn't any way you could stop him from taking entirely too much satisfaction in you needing him.

With your desire trumping everything else, you gracefully made your way across the room, where you stood before him and waited. If you had been more bold, the cord in his hand would be on the other side of the room and the fishing net tossed aside, but alas, you had patience enough for him to find a stopping point. After setting them both aside, Neteyam leaned back on his palms, and finally looked up at you. His eyes were focused on your own, glimmering in the flickering firelight.

"What is it, hm?", he questioned, a hint of a smirk tugging at his mouth, one of his eyebrows raised as he waited for an explanation. You gulped, taking in his form, long and toned, the muscles of his chest flexing so casually as he breathed in and out. A soft chuckle made you glance up at his face just as you had started to zoom out again, making you blush sheepishly.

"C‘mere, tanhì", Neteyam said, offering a hand for you to take. Your loincloth hitched up as you crawled into his lap, your knees on either side of his thighs. Warm hands held you steady as you positioned yourself, caressing your waist. Your arms slid neatly around his neck and Neteyam looked up at you, not kissing or sliding his arms under your buttocks and pulling your loincloth up further, not even having the common decency to get aroused. Neteyam just sat there, entirely composed, a look on his face reminiscent of a cat about to swallow up the canary. "Well?" he taunted. "If you want something, you have to talk to me."

For a moment you hesitated, looked down and licked your lips. As your gaze wandered back up, you bit your bottom lip. Neteyam loved when you did that, you knew he did. It was your secret weapon and it worked flawlessly every single time. Well, almost every time. Not now though. There was something so smug in his look, so much enjoyment at making you voice your need. He cocked his head to the side, a few of his braids swaying over his shoulder as a teasing look greeted you. You gave an exasperated sigh and rolled your eyes before groaning. "Neteyam, pleaseee", you pleaded, whiny and frustrated over having to work so hard for this.

"Ah, ah, ah. We're not at that part yet", he chuckled. "I think you were about to ask me for something first, hm? Ask me like a good girl. Like maybe…", he thought for a second before continuing in a mocking voice, "Neteyam, I'm so sorry for making you put down your work, but would you please take me to bed and make me scream?"

You couldn’t help but giggle a little, the fireplace warming your back and sending a pleasant flush of heat over your skin. "Oh, you don't have to take me to the bed...", you mumbled sheepishly, hoping you sounded sultry enough to get him to act.

But Neteyam only bowed his head and gazed more deeply into your eyes. It made you tremble with want.

Quietly, you then answered, "I'm very sorry for interrupting your work, Neteyam… but I need you to have your way with me." At that, his grin turned dangerously sharp. The sight of his canine poking out from under his lip, before he licked over them, was absolutely intoxicating. It made you weak at every joint, and sent your mind spiraling. Red embarrassment grows hot in your cheeks as you prodded, "Satisfied?"

Neteyam then wrapped his arm around your back and pulled you closer, "No, not yet, tanhì. But I will be."

#avatar12daysofkinkmas #atwow neteyam #avatar neteyam #neteyam #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam smut #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam sully #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #Avatar #atwow #avatar the way of water

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xjoonchildx · 2 months

Text

kanalia | jhs x reader | final chapter: because i couldn't stay away

banner by the amazing @kth1 💕

⚜️summary: secrets and uncertainty plague a young queen in her arranged marriage to a kind but distant king. the farther she drifts from her husband, the closer she gets to one of his most trusted men.

⚜️pairing: queen!reader x royalguard!hoseok

⚜️rating: mature, 18+

⚜️genre: royal AU, historical AU, smut

⚜️warnings: infidelity (it’s complicated, y’all) mentions of pregnancy, fertility issues. OC struggles with depressive thoughts and episodes. smut warnings in effect.

⚜️word count: 10.2K

⚜️author's note: happy birthday month to my forever muse, jung hoseok. i hope that i did this poor, tortured version of you some justice. and yes, it did take me years to finish this story (😭) , but i did. thank you to every single who has ever taken an interest in this story and cared enough to stick with me through long delays and rough writing spells. once again, i have to shout out the OG @hobi-gif who lent her eyes to part of this story. i appreciate you all so much and if you enjoyed it, i would very much appreciate a reblog as well as your feedback.

thank you guys so, so much 💕

previous chapter masterlist

Love doesn't discriminate Between the sinners and the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep loving anyway We laugh and we cry and we break And we make our mistakes And if there's a reason I'm by her side When so many have tried Then I'm willing to wait for it I'm willing to wait for it

– “Wait for It”

Hamilton, An American Musical

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

One perfect loop is followed by another. And another. And another.

You need not look back and check your work, not anymore. Now you know simply by the pull of the thread that each stitch you place is snug and uniform. You sit in your chair by the fire and repeat the motion over and over again, staring unseeing into the pattern in your lap.

“It’s a beautiful day, Your Grace.”

Hyeri’s voice taps at the edges of your consciousness, muffled as though she’s standing outside the chamber door instead of seated right beside you. You ignore it and push another loop through the fabric.

“Not a cloud in the sky,” she persists, gentle. “Perfect conditions for a walk, if you feel up to it. I could even accompany you, if you wish?”

There was a time, not long ago, when Hyeri’s prodding would have set your teeth on edge. But you do not have the energy to muster any such emotion. And so you give Hyeri the same answer you’d given her the day before. And the day before that one. The same hushed words, spoken in the same decisive tone.

“I’m content to stay in today, Hyeri. Thank you.”

“Very well, Your Grace.”

She drops the matter with a quiet sigh.

It’s unlike her. The Hyeri you know would fret and fuss for as long as it took for you to relent; until you had no choice but to quit your chamber simply to enjoy a moment’s peace. The Hyeri you know would be shooing you away from the fire, prattling on about how one errant thread could catch and send your entire dress up in flames.

But the Hyeri seated beside you does none of those things.

So you sink deeper into the plush chair perched in front of the hearth and watch the flames dance. The embers at the base of the fire glow deep red, putting off a heat blistering enough to scorch your bare feet.

But you cannot feel it. You cannot feel anything.

You’ve surrendered to the weariness now; let it consume you. Allowed it to fuse itself to the very marrow of your bones. For days you’ve done little beyond sleep and spend your few waking hours seated by the fire, needle in hand.

Twice you’ve left your chamber and neither time by choice, but rather because the King had insisted on your presence at dinner. To what end you still cannot be sure seeing as you’d taken both meals in stilted, awkward silence. Apparently His Grace is far less bold without a bit of ale in him.

“The hunting party leaves in three days' time,” Hyeri says. “There’s been quite a fuss in the kitchens over it. They’re taking enough supplies to travel for months, by the looks of it.”

You make a non-committal sound under your breath. Hyeri forges on, undeterred.

“There will be a send-off in the courtyard, of course. Will you – “ she pauses to choose her words carefully. “ – Well, I assume that you’ll want to see the King off.”

You do not want to see the King off. Were it not for his pigheaded adamance that you keep up appearances for the sake of this sham marriage, you’d be content to never see him again. But you’ll not tell Hyeri that. Not when she’s made it clear where her loyalties lie and not when she still holds on to the delusion that one day you’ll decide to embrace your role as the placeholder by the King’s side.

So you say nothing at all. The fire pops as one of the logs crumbles in the hearth.

Hyeri clears her throat. “Your Grace, I only want what’s best for you. Surely you know that by now? And I don’t want people casting aspersions, which they most certainly will do if you’re not there to see the King off. The staff is already asking questions about why you’ve not been seen in days.”

“Has he asked for me?”

Hyeri blinks. “The King?”

“Yes, Hyeri,” you say slowly. “The King. Has His Grace requested my presence at this send-off ceremony?”

The color seems to drain from her soft face as she admits, “No, Your Grace. He hasn’t.”

“Then I see no point in worrying yourself over the matter.”

You return your attention to your needlework and place another yellow thread in the center of your Mugunghwa flower’s pistil. The flames crackle in perfect, undisturbed silence.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

“It’s cold out there today,” Hyeri says. “But if you bundle up tight, it’s quite pleasant in the sunshine.”

“Thank you, Hyeri,” you reply evenly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

It’s a lie, and you both know it. You have no intention of leaving this chamber today and much to your relief, the King did not require your presence at his evening meal the night prior. Hyeri had ordered your dinner sent up and then proceeded to dine with you herself. An insidious voice inside your mind whispers she’s afraid to leave you alone.

You ignore it.

Instead you try to focus on your Mugunghwa flower. You study it, blinking until the riot of colors before you has clear, defined boundaries – fiery crimson at the center which slowly bleeds into a subdued pink which in turn dissipates into a milky white. You pull fresh white thread through your needle and set to work on the flower’s edges.

“Your needlework is much improved, Your Grace,” Hyeri notes. “You’ll be finished with that pattern by the end of the day, as I see it.”

You thumb over the fabric and consider her assessment. She’s right, you’ll be done with this pattern in a matter of hours. And the only thing that awaits on the other side is another pattern. And another. On and on and on.

“Perhaps when you’re done, you’ll consider mending this for me,” Hyeri says, gesturing towards her lap. “My eyesight is not what it used to be. I’m terrified of ruining the old man’s beautiful design.”

You set your embroidery down and turn to look at Hyeri, gaze falling to the opulent plum fabric in her hands. Slowly, the details sharpen into focus. The rich velvet trim. The gold threads glinting back at you in the firelight. The room begins to tilt.

“A footman found it in the woods last night,” Hyeri explains, her cadence slow and deliberate. “By the stables.”

You are keenly aware of the way she watches you in the weighty seconds that follow, one gray eyebrow lifted as she awaits a response. You do your best to appear calm despite the panic clawing its way up your throat.

You’d lost that shawl in your mad dash back to the castle. You’d been tearing through the dark, paying little heed to the branches that tugged at your dress and occasionally scraped at your hands and face. One of them had caught the shawl, but you’d been so desperate to reach the refuge of your chamber that you’d hardly noticed when it was wrenched away. You’d had, after all, your humiliation to keep you warm.

And you’d earned it, hadn’t you? With your drunkenness. With your recklessness. You’d let every one of your baser emotions take control. You’d risked every advantage of your carefully curated life just to throw yourself like a wanton at the feet of one of your husband’s closest confidantes. Like a fool.

When Lord Jung turned on his heels that night and abandoned you in the woods, he’d done far more than just rebuff your clumsy advances.

He’d finished you.

“Your Grace?” Hyeri’s curiosity is evident. “Are you alright?”

Hardly. Your mouth waters as your stomach threatens to cast up what little you’ve eaten today. One glimpse of that garment had been enough to bring a torrent of memories rushing back; vivid, awful memories that you’ve worked hard to banish to the deepest recesses of your mind. You grip the arm of your chair hard enough to make your knuckles go white.

“Your Grace?”

You don’t answer until you’re sure that you won’t retch the very moment you open your mouth. Hyeri studies you in the interminable silence, lips parted in an expression of concern. Your tongue is thick when you finally collect yourself enough to speak.

“Please do thank the footman for me, Hyeri. And I think it best to leave the more intricate needlework to you.”

Hyeri stares as you reach for your needle and thread with trembling hands, but you don’t dare look her way. You try to place a loop at the edge of your flower but the Mugunghwa’s colors have gone blurry again and you’re forced to back the needle out and start over.

Perhaps there was a time when the Mugunghwa was as vivid as a rose. With petals of rich orange-red, opaque from pistil to tip. But perhaps it was asked to weather too many storms. Too many droughts. Too many winters.

Perhaps the Mugunghwa looks the way it does today not because of how it was made, but rather what it’s had to endure.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

The first snow of the season arrives early.

You stand at your window and watch it fall, noting how quickly the fields turn from green to white. You press your fingertips to the windowpane and the cold seeps through it, chilling you instantly.

In the courtyard below, the horses are draped in heavy blankets. Stablehands scurry around them; dusting snow off their muzzles and checking their shoes. Footmen work in teams, sharing the weight of the heavy trunks they load on to waiting carts.

“I’ll wear the blue walking dress today, Hyeri. The one with the white flowers on the bodice.”

“Your Grace?” Hyeri is on her feet at once to join you at the window. “You’ll see the king off, then?”

“I’ll need the matching cape too,” you direct, brushing her question aside as you watch the newly-packed trunks take on a layer of white snow. “If the conditions are as awful as they look.”

“Yes of course,” Hyeri breathes, hurriedly whirling about the chamber behind you as she gathers your things. In a matter of minutes she has you dressed and seated, fingers twisting your hair into a plait at the base of your neck. She loops the plait and pins it into an elegant bun, fingers smoothing the hairs into place before her hands come to rest on your shoulders. She squeezes them gently.

“I’ll not ask you why you’ve changed your mind, Your Grace,” she says softly. “But I’m so glad for it. It’s important that people see you. For them, of course, but for you most of all. And besides, you look so lovely.”

You don’t feel lovely. In fact, you don’t feel anything at all. And if Hyeri had pressed you as to why you’ve changed your mind, she’d not be satisfied with your answer. You’ve changed your mind because you cannot bear to cause more conflict with the King. Because you have no desire to create a scandal that you’ll somehow have to fix. You’ve changed your mind because you have no fight in you left. This is the path of least resistance.

You rise from your seat and Hyeri’s hands fall away. She clutches them to her chest, rheumy eyes soft with sadness as she watches you take your place at the window once again. Outside the snow falls harder, and you watch the footmen leave deep divots in it with their boots.

“Tell me when it’s time,” you say quietly.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

You can scarcely recognize anyone in the throng of well-wishers gathered outside the castle.

They’re all bundled tight in winter coats and pelts; some wear hats and scarves. The snow doesn’t help either, and from the moment you enter the courtyard you’re grateful for your cape. Not only for the warmth of its thick lining, but for its hood, too. It affords you a bit of privacy in this otherwise very public affair.

You weave your way through the crowd and do your best not to make eye contact with anyone. Surely Boram is among those gathered with sweet Yeona in tow, here to see Lord Min off on his adventure. But you cannot bring yourself to seek her out – not when she’s already called on you twice without so much as an explanation for your disappearance. At any rate, you don’t think you could bear to look at her right now. To see the worry and concern you know you’ll find written all over her face.

So you keep your hood pulled tight and your eyes down as you set off in search of the King. And you have no trouble finding him despite your reticence to make your presence known. It’s not just that he stands a head taller than most. It’s in his stature, in his stance – in that self-assured air that seems to come naturally to those born with power. He catches sight of you as he’s speaking to a footman and pauses, gaze locking on yours.

Your legs feel heavy. Your boots sink into the snow as you approach, each step more tiring than the last. When you are finally standing before the King you bow, dipping your head as you peer at him from beneath your hood.

“Your Grace,” he murmurs, lips twitching into a cautious half-smile. “I wasn’t sure you’d come down to say goodbye.”

“And yet I have,” you respond evenly. A snowflake lands on one of his long eyelashes and you resist the urge to reach out and sweep it away. “So I do very much hope that you are pleased.”

“I am pleased.”

The King reaches for your gloved hand. He waits a heartbeat before bringing it to his mouth and pressing a kiss to your leather-clad fingers. Beneath your hood, your cheeks burn. You withdraw your hand quickly and let it fall to your side.

“Well. Then. I wish you a comfortable journey,” you say. “As well as a safe return.”

The two of you stand there for an awkward moment, the King’s expression expectant as though he’s waiting for you to say more. But you have no more to say. The words you’ve already offered him will do. They’re as empty as the vows you’d exchanged little more than a year ago.

“We ought to head out, Your Grace. We’re losing precious daylight and this weather will slow us as it is.”

The voice comes from somewhere in your periphery, but you need not see the man to know exactly who it is. Suddenly each breath you draw is painful, the frigid air pricking your lungs like a thousand tiny needles. You will yourself not to turn towards it, not to react in any way.

“You’re right.” The King acknowledges Lord Jung with a brusque nod. “Have the stablehands check over the horses one more time.”

You won’t look at him. You can’t look at him. Not when the sound of his voice reverberates through every wounded place inside of you. Not when you can close your eyes and still feel the hot trickle of embarrassment that slid down your spine that night in the woods. But then he leaves you with no other choice.

“Your Grace.”

The low timbre of Lord Jung’s greeting makes the fine hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end. You turn to him, slowly, and his dark eyes briefly connect with yours before he bends into a shallow bow. Your knees nearly give way when you return the gesture, along with a subdued, “My Lord.”

What must this man think of you now? What has he told the King? The nausea you’ve managed to stave off for days returns at once.

You startle when a gloved hand wraps around your forearm and the King beckons you to face him. You flick your eyes up to meet his and find that they – along with his countenance – have darkened. By now Lord Jung is yards away, tending to his horse as the hunting party readies to embark. Your lungs ache with each deep pull of cold air.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, no. Not at all,” you insist, contriving a weak laugh. “I’m not accustomed to this kind of cold, is all. I’ll need to go back inside to get warm.”

The King’s brows furrow as he studies you. But you maintain your mild expression until his face relaxes and the disquiet subsides. He leans in to place a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Hyeri assures me you’ll be well taken care of in my absence.”

You lift the corners of your mouth in a gesture that you hope will pass for a smile.

“Thank you, Your Grace. Be well.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Hyeri does not protest when you ask to undress upon your return to the chamber. Nor does she fuss when you climb into bed with the morning sun still high in the sky. She simply presses a soft kiss to your hair, draws the curtains tight and leaves you with a whispered rest well.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Your chamber is dark when you wake but for the soft glow of a fire.

As you come to, so does an ache in your temples, a quiet thud that pulses in time with your heartbeat. Your muscles protest as you roll onto your side to find Hyeri seated at the hearth.

She’s yet to realize that you’ve roused and so you lie there for a while, studying her. She has a strange, far-away look in her eyes as she stares into the flames, her grip tight on a book in her lap. After a few minutes she opens the book and begins to thumb through it and you watch, curious, as she pulls a worn piece of vellum from between its pages.

She unfolds the missive and reads over it, face crumpling as she fights back a sob.

“Hyeri?”

The older woman nearly jumps out of her skin when you call out to her. She hastily folds the vellum and slips it back into her book, smoothing down her dress as she stands at attention. “Your Grace,” she says, voice huskier than usual, “I hadn’t realized you were awake.”

“It’s alright,” you say absently, voice rough with sleep. You steal a look at the book left lying in Hyeri’s chair as she hurries over to bring you some water. Her countenance is that of someone who’s been caught doing something they shouldn’t have. You stare at the glass she offers you, watching the water slosh back and forth.

Is she trembling?

“You ought to eat something,” she admonishes gently, waving a hand towards the food waiting on the table nearby. “You slept through the evening meal. I had my mind made up to wake you if you’d gone much longer, but thankfully I didn’t have to. So come,” she beckons, “Eat something. It will do you some good.”

Your stomach twinges at the mention of food. It’s been in upheaval for days now, and as such it’s been far too long since you had a proper meal. But whatever awaits in the dishes nearby smells enticing enough, so you allow Hyeri to help you out of bed. Your muscles are stiff with disuse and you grimace as you make your way to the table. Your eagle-eyed handmaid takes note.

“A long, hot bath will do you some good, too,” Hyeri remarks as you spoon lukewarm bulgogi onto your plate. You eat slowly as she busies herself with lighting the torches and stripping the linens from your bed. “I’ll have the maids bring up the water after you’ve had a chance to eat.”

You’ve only managed a few bites of the bulgogi before there’s an army of maids filing into the chamber, flitting about the room like a swarm of bees. You watch the entire affair in a daze as the maids make quick work of the tasks set before them: tidying and sweeping the chamber, draping your bed in fresh linens, filling the tub with steaming hot water. And when all the commotion is finally done, Hyeri dismisses them with strict orders not to return unless they are sent for.

You are grateful at once for the silence that immediately falls over the chamber. Even Hyeri leaves you for a while, disappearing into the antechamber to prepare your toilette. But when you glance over at her chair, Hyeri’s book is gone. Along with whatever was written on the vellum inside.

“Come now, Your Grace,” Hyeri says, at last. “I’m ready for you.”

She leads you into the bathing chamber, where the air is humid and sweet. Then she helps you out of your rumpled nightgown and holds out her hand. You accept it, leaning into her as you step over the tub’s steep rim. Slowly you ease yourself down, sucking in a breath as the heat blazes a path up your feet to your legs and thighs. The water is hot almost to the point of pain but you withstand it, sinking until it laps at your shoulders.

“I used rose oil tonight,” Hyeri says, kneeling behind you and cupping your head in her hands. “I thought you could do with a bit of pampering.”

The delicate fragrance envelopes you, carried on the curls of steam that rise just above the water. You breathe in the soft, floral scent and close your eyes; try to clear your mind. Hyeri presses her thumbs to your temples and starts making firm, soothing circles.

“I remember the very first moment I saw you,” Hyeri muses softly. “I’d been so impressed by your poise.” Her hands move to the column of your neck and she kneads at the tight muscles there, pulling the tension from them with each pass. “You were little more than a girl then, but I could still see that you were lovely, inside and out.”

Were you? You’re not sure that you would even recognize the girl that stepped out of that carriage so long ago. You’d been so idealistic – so certain of the comfortable life that you would find here. Of the affluence and status and yes, perhaps, even love that you’d enjoy once you’d ascended to the throne. But that girl had been a nitwit. The woman you are now will never entertain such foolish notions again.

“I know that so much of this has not been easy for you,” Hyeri continues, setting to work on your shoulders. “I know that there have been days when you’ve struggled to put one foot in front of the other. But you have. And that means something.”

It does mean something. It means that your mother’s great work is finally complete. She’d spent her entire life molding you into the polished, empty creature you are today. If only she could see you now; see how biddable and pathetic you’ve become. It would fill her to overflowing with joy.

“Anyhow, when you’ve lived as long as I have you realize that nothing is forever,” Hyeri says thoughtfully. “Same as what you’re going through right now, Your Grace. It won’t be forever.”

Nonsense. Hyeri cannot change the King’s heart. She cannot save you from a lifetime of awkward exchanges and forced smiles simply because she believes things can change. And she cannot will a child into your womb simply by decreeing that it should be so. The swell of emotion that surges inside you is more powerful than anything you’ve felt in days. And it’s anger.

“Hyeri, stop,” you order tersely. “No more.”

Her face falls at that, features going slack with dismay. But she heeds you, holding back whatever she’d meant to say next. Then she reaches for the soap and begins to wash your hair in silence. You chase the beads of oil that float along the surface of the water with a fingertip, cheeks hot with embarrassment. You hadn’t meant to be ugly to Hyeri.

But then you’ve done many things of late that you hadn’t meant to.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur.

“It’s alright, Your Grace. I know you meant no harm by it.” Hyeri dries her hands off and then rises to her feet, looking down at you with a kindness you do not deserve. “I’ll leave you to soak for a bit. You can have a few minutes of peace before I return.”

You’ve been unfair to her, haven’t you? The realization cuts you deep as you watch her retreat from the antechamber. She’s served you in so many ways since your arrival here: as caretaker and as advisor and as confidante. And how have you thanked her? By being cold and distant. By unleashing all the frustration and resentment you feel towards the King on her. And what of the tears you’d seen her hold back while she’d been sitting by the fire? Have you been so mired in your own anguish that you’ve neglected to see hers?

The water has begun to cool and your skin has begun to pebble by the time Hyeri returns.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” she says upon her return, helping you out of the water. “The time got away from me. You must be freezing.”

“Only a little,” you lie, teeth chattering. Hyeri sets to drying you, throwing the damp linens on the floor to catch the rivulets of water that fall from your hair. Her dark eyes dart from your shoulders to your neck to your ears, but they do not meet yours.

“Is something wrong, Hyeri?”

“No, no. Not at all,” she answers quickly, “Just a bit tired.” Her reassurance rings hollow because she keeps her eyes trained on the floor as she bends to reach for the rose oil. When she straightens, you catch her hand with yours, stilling her.

“What were you reading tonight?”

Hyeri’s mouth opens in surprise and then quickly closes.

“I saw you sitting by the fire,” you admit. “You were reading something that looked to upset you.”

“And here I thought you were sleeping,” Hyeri grumbles, taking her hand back. She pours the oil into one palm and then warms it before pressing it to your neck, letting a long moment pass before she speaks.

“It didn’t upset me,” she explains. “Not in a sad way. Those were happy tears, I suppose.” She pours oil into your hands and begins to gently massage it into your fingers. “It was a letter from my Sanghun, back when he’d been courting me so many years ago. You might find this hard to believe, but I wasn’t always the old woman you see now. I had more than my fair share of suitors.”

It’s not hard to believe. Time has been kind to Hyeri. Her features, though soft with age, are still striking. She must have been quite fetching as a young woman.

“What made you choose Sanghun?” you ask.

“I don’t know that I had a choice in the matter at all,” she laughs as she helps you slip into a nightgown. “The moment I saw Sanghun, no other man existed for me. It was him or no one.” Her eyes go soft with a faraway look as she recounts the memory. “The other girls thought him too practical, too serious. But I saw a side of him that no one else saw. A part of him that was just for me.”

“You must miss him,” you say gently.

“Every day,” Hyeri admits. “Ten years he’s been gone and I think of him every day. Those letters remind me of what it’s like to be young and so in love that you’ll not see rhyme or reason. But –” she trails off and waves a hand as if fending off fresh tears. “Never mind that. Come sit.”

It’s unclear which of you she’s sparing from the memory. But as Hyeri begins working her comb through the lengths of your hair, you’re struck by how shortsighted you’ve been. There is suffering in never having the chance to love and be loved, certainly. But there is a different kind of suffering that comes with having that kind of love and then losing it. The thought humbles you.

Hyeri comes to stand behind you and begins working your wet hair into a loose plait.

“I’m sorry, Hyeri,” you say softly, gaze dropping to your hands. “I’m sorry that I haven’t thought to ask you about Sanghun. I haven’t been myself and I’ve just – “

Hyeri silences you with a soft hush. She secures your braid with a piece of linen and then drops to her knees to look her in the eye. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she says softly, stroking a hand down the side of your face. “Nor do you owe anyone an explanation for feeling the things you feel.”

Her warmth thaws the frozen places inside you. It causes tears to spring to your eyes. And when she takes your hand in hers, you squeeze it gently — hoping that the gesture can convey the feelings you can’t put into words.

“Now put all of that behind you,” she says, smiling through her own unshed tears. “And come sit with me for a while.”

Hyeri leads the way into the chamber and you follow, only to stop short when the hearth comes into view.

When your gaze falls on the silhouetted figure near the fire, you nearly scream. You try to scream. But fear seizes your body, inch by inch – rooting your feet to the floor and closing around your throat like a shackle. You have no choice but stand there, staring in horrified silence as the figure begins to emerge from the shadows. In the span of one frantic heartbeat, the figure has a shape. In the next, it has a face.

And in the next, it has a name.

“H-Hyeri?” you stammer, swaying on your feet as your legs threaten to give way. Your handmaid doesn’t answer and so you call out again, voice quivering. “Hyeri?”

You cannot take your eyes off the man standing before you. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, and so you stare as the firelight flickers over his stark, beautiful features. Shadows dance across his clenched jaw and knit brow. And his eyes – those dark eyes you know so well are fathomless, inscrutable – smoldering coal set in unblemished, unforgiving stone.

“Hyeri!“ you call out to her again, desperate – reluctantly tearing your gaze from the man to look for her. And when your eyes finally land on Hyeri, you find your handmaid standing near the chamber door, hands clasped together tightly. Streaks of color running up the thin skin of her neck and into her soft cheeks.

But she’s not surprised, is she? Not flummoxed in any way by finding Lord Jung lying in wait inside your private rooms. The realization comes over you slowly, wholly, until a strangle tingle runs from your scalp to the tips of your fingers. She’s arranged this, hasn’t she?

“W-What is this?” The words leave you as more air than sound, but they ring out clear enough in the silence of your chamber. Lord Jung and Hyeri exchange a long look, but neither utters a sound.

“Someone speak!” you cry, wincing at the hysteria in your voice.

Hyeri finally clears her throat, her face now fully aflame. “I believe the two of you – “ she pauses, swallowing hard. “Well, I believe the two of you have some things you need to discuss.”

Discuss? You and Lord Jung? Suddenly the panic you feel metastasizes, growing into something much darker. Has he come to admonish you, then? To punish you for your disloyalty? Has he come to lay bare every humiliating detail of that horrible night at the stables for Hyeri to hear?

“No,” you whisper. You do your best to appear composed, despite the way your knees tremble. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Hyeri. I have nothing to discuss with Lord Jung.”

“Yes, you do.” The man in question speaks for the first time, his voice little more than a low rasp. “And we will.”

“No,” you repeat your refusal, shaking your head as though the movement will help sort your jumbled thoughts. “No. You have no right to turn up here and say what I will and will not do. And where did you come from? I saw you leave. I saw you mount your horse and ride off with – “

You stop yourself before you can finish the thought, flushing fiercely at the unspoken mention of the King. Your tedious, disinterested husband would be anything but if he had any inkling of this clandestine encounter.

“I was called back to the castle,” Lord Jung explains evenly. “A palace rider came bearing a missive bidding that I return at once to address an issue at the stables. I was but an hour’s ride away at the time.” Once again, he looks to Hyeri and they exchange another one of those maddening looks.

“But there was no issue at the stables,” you deduce quietly, the pieces falling into place, one by one. “Was there, Hyeri?” Your handmaid seems to shrink beneath the weight of the accusation in your eyes.

“No, Your Grace,” she confesses weakly, “There was not.”

Oh, but your head is truly spinning now – each new revelation more disorienting than the last. How long have these two been conspiring together? What does Hyeri know about what’s transpired between you and Lord Jung? What does he know about the many private things you’ve shared with Hyeri? Both thoughts cause the bile in your stomach to rise.

“You can leave us now, Hyeri,” Lord Jung says. “Thank you.”

Leave you? Has the man lost all good sense? You open your mouth to protest, but when met with the intensity in his glittering dark eyes, words fail you. You just stand there, mouth agape, rendered mute and immobile with shock. You look over at Hyeri, who has fixed her pleading eyes to your wide ones, her expression urging you to comply. And though you cannot make sense of a single thing that you’ve witnessed tonight, you do.

“Very well, My Lord,” she says quietly. “Rest well, Your Grace. The staff rouses at dawn.”

And with that Hyeri takes her leave, the chamber door closing behind her with a heavy thud that echoes the one in your chest.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Once you are alone with Lord Jung, you realize how truly vulnerable you are.

With little more than a thin nightgown to cover you, he can see far more of you than would ever be considered proper. All it would take was one shout from the man to bring the guards running, to compromise you both to the point of expulsion. Perhaps worse.

But the situation is far weightier than that.

You’ve been vulnerable to this man from nearly the first moment you saw him. You’d been weak to his attention and charms. You’d allowed him to see you in ways that no one else has: not Chaehee, not Hyeri and certainly not the King. And the only time in your life that you’d thrown caution to the wind – and acted with abandon, not restraint – he’d mortified you. The memory of that night is a wound that’s just barely begun to heal, and now here Lord Jung stands, poised to pour salt on it.

You’ll not allow him to devastate you again.

“Go on then,” you say, lifting your chin and speaking with feigned bravado. “You’ve gone to great lengths to speak to me, so speak. I assume you’ll enlighten me as to which matter is so pressing that you felt the need to steal into my chamber and risk ruin for us both.”

“I know what I’m risking,” he growls. Then he stops to collect himself, exhaling deeply as he shoves a hand through his hair. “I know what we both stand to lose. But I could not come to you any other way.”

“Why have you come to me at all?” you demand. “You made your feelings quite clear the night of the festival, did you not?” You can no longer contain your bitterness and it drips from your every word. “You should go back to your sovereign, My Lord. Back to your King.”

Lord Jung looks stricken when you use his own words against him. There is a despair in his dark eyes that might have pained you once, but not now. Not anymore.

“You have every right to be angry with me, Your Grace,” he acknowledges. “And if you bid me to leave, then I will do so. But not without telling you the truth. You deserve to hear the truth.”

“Everything here is a lie. Perhaps you, most of all.”

He looks at you for a long moment before turning towards the hearth to gaze into the fire. Orange-red light illuminates his profile, sweeping across his smooth brow, over the elegant slope of his nose and down to his strong jaw. He is still the most beautiful – and most terrible man you’ve ever known.

“The King said he would give her up,” he says woodenly, staring into the flames. “When your marriage was announced, he swore it. And I believed him.”

Every muscle in your body pulls tight.

“I knew that he loved her. We all did. But he vowed that he would respect his father’s wishes and I’ve never known him to be a duplicitous man. I’ve never known him to say one thing and do another. And when I realized that he’d been deceiving you, deceiving us all, I – “ he stops and shakes his head at the memory. “ – I wasn’t thinking clearly. I confronted him at once and demanded that he explain himself.”

The argument in the courtyard. The memories come back to you in an instant. The way they’d both looked so irate, the way their voices would rise and then fall. Lord Jung turning his back on the King and stalking away into the dark.

The tightness in your chest is unbearable now, viselike.

“I was so damned angry,” he whispers, more to himself than to you. “Never once in my life have I imagined putting my hands on the King, but in that moment – I don’t know. I don’t know what I might have done had I not walked away. But I confronted him because I had to know why.”

He rips his gaze from the fire and turns to you, eyes flashing.

“And do you know what he told me? Do you know what he said when I asked him why he would insult you by keeping a lover? He told me that he couldn’t stay away. That he’d tried to do the honorable thing but he couldn’t stay away.”

“Why are you telling me this?” The tremor in your voice belies your pathetic attempt at composure. “If you mean to cause me pain, it’s too late. I’ve known about the King’s lover since the early days of this marriage, and I’ve accepted it. Just as I’ve accepted that I’ll never amount to more than a trinket he dusts off to show to his people.”

Lord Jung takes a step towards you, his beautiful face hard in the firelight. There’s a maelstrom behind his eyes, a polite violence that sets you to shiver.

“I’m telling you this because I need you to understand,” he says. “I want to hate him. I have tried to hate him. But I cannot. I have no position of honor to stand on. No rightful claim to virtue. I have no right to condemn the King for his sins when I have so many of my own to account for.”

“I – I don’t understand,” you say weakly.

“I have no right – “ his voice breaks, thick with emotion, “-- I have no right to denounce the King for coveting another woman.” He drags a hand down his face, distraught. “Not when I have spent every single day since you stepped out of that carriage coveting you.”

You stop breathing entirely.

“So no,” he continues, voice graveled. “I cannot bring myself to hate the King. And you were right to think me a liar. I’ve pretended that my nearness to you was benign, nothing more than an act of service. I’ve tried to make myself look honorable to you, when I have been anything but. I’ve been a liar since the moment I met you.”

You are trembling now, head to toe. Rendered speechless by Lord Jung’s confession. Slowly, the maelstrom in his eyes starts to recede. He looks as vulnerable now as you feel.

“You deserved to know the truth,” he says quietly. “If from no one else, than from me.”

There is a heavy silence in the seconds it takes you to find your voice.

“My Lord, I – “

“Don’t call me that,” he pleads. “Please. Not now. Not when I’ve come to you like this.”

“Very well, Hoseok. But you sent me away. In the woods that night, I’d asked you to – “ you stop, not wanting to say the words aloud. “What’s changed? Why are you telling me this now?”

“I have tried to leave you alone.” His voice is ragged now, anguished. “I thought if I could just put some distance between us – if I rose earlier and worked harder and retired later – that I could exhaust this need out of me. But I can’t.” Torment is etched into every line of his beautiful face. It makes you want to reach out and touch him but you resist, uncertainty keeping your hands pinned to your sides.

“I cannot war with myself any longer,” he says hoarsely. “I cannot continue to lie to you or myself. And if he is not willing to give you the things you desire, then I will.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, your neck. It gathers in your belly, too.

“So if you’re asking me why now?” he says, taking another step towards you, closing what little distance remains. “It’s because I couldn’t stay away.”

He touches you then, takes your face into one warm hand and strokes his fingers down your temple, smooths the pad of his thumb over your lips. The featherlight touch raises goosebumps all over your skin. It’s more intimate than anything you’ve ever experienced with the King.

“Do you still want me to kiss you?” he murmurs.

“No,” you breathe. “I want so much more than that.”

He looks at you with such heat that the warmth in your belly goes molten. Then he presses his mouth to yours and slowly coaxes it open with gentle strokes of his tongue. He tastes of whiskey and smells of fine, heady soap and he does not relent until you are panting. Moisture gathers at the juncture of your thighs, beneath your thin nightgown.

But suddenly you are apprehensive. You’ve no idea how to kiss a man properly, much less satisfy him as a lover. And you’re not sure that you could ever live down the shame of disappointing him. When he finally pulls away to look down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, you have no choice but to confess.

“There’s something you should know, Hoseok,” you say, the sound of his given name still foreign in your mouth. “It’s just that – well, I am by no means a maiden but in some respects, I might as well be. I know almost nothing about how to please you.”

Anger flashes in his eyes, and for one terrifying moment you fear it’s for you.

“That is through no fault of your own,” he says darkly. “And if he’s been too much of a fool to see to your needs, then so be it.” He dips his head to press a kiss to your ear, then whispers, “Your pleasure will be mine and mine alone.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Hoseok spends an inordinate amount of time tending to the fire.

You sit on the edge of your bed and watch him, feverish with anticipation as he moves the weakest logs and adds fresh ones. Once he’s satisfied, once the chamber is glowing with fresh flames and warmth, he cleans his hands and comes to you.

Your heart rattles harder with each step he takes towards your bed.

When he’s finally standing at the foot of your bed, he takes off his belt. And then reaches behind his head to pull his tunic away. The sight of his bare chest is enough to make your mouth go dry. His body is lithe and sleek and strong, his muscles rippling as he puts his hands down on either side of you and lowers his mouth to yours for a kiss.

“Tonight is about you, pretty bird,” he murmurs, trailing more kisses across your cheek, down your neck. “So I want you to tell me everything you want.”

“I want to see you.” The words leave you in a rush an account of the way his mouth moves from the juncture of your neck and to the hollow of your collarbone. “All of you.”

Hoseok wastes no time in straightening to his full height to remove his breeches, and then his smallclothes. And try as you might not to stare, it cannot be helped. You’ve never been able to study a man like this. Not even the King.

“Can I touch you?”

“Please,” he groans.

And then you are cautiously reaching for him, wrapping a hand around the length of him, marveling at the way he pulses in your palm. You run your fingertips down the skin of his shaft, awestruck by how silky and warm he is. But when your fingers reach the blunt head of him, he flinches.

“I don’t – I’m sorry,” you say quickly. “Did I hurt you?

“No, no. You didn’t hurt me,” he assures you, his voice sounding a bit strangled. “I’m just sensitive there, is all.”

“Will you show me, then?” you ask, curiosity far stronger than any self-consciousness you might feel. “Show me how to touch you.”

“Of course.”

He sits down on the bed beside you, taking hold of your hand. And then you watch with a heady mix of confusion and excitement as he takes your fingers into his mouth one, by one. He finishes the unfamiliar preparation by licking a long stripe up the palm of your hand. The stroke of his tongue sends a bolt of desire racing through you.

“It’s easier like this,” he explains, guiding your hand back to his length. You take hold of him again and this time he wraps his hand around yours. He moves your hand for you, up and down the length of him, until you can feel him growing hotter and harder in your hand. You’re fascinated by it all – by how firmly he wants to be touched, by how labored his breathing becomes, by the way the muscle and sinew in his legs seem to twitch at your command.

He leans over to capture your mouth as he begins to buck into your hand in earnest. And after a while his own hand falls away, leaving you to take control of his pleasure. And what an intoxicating power he’s given you – taut muscles in his abdomen flexing with each of his strained breaths.

“That feels so good, pretty bird,” he groans, taking your bottom lip between his teeth. “Just right. Your hand feels so good around me like this.”

The wetness you’d felt between your thighs when he’d kissed you the first time returns, and each sound of pleasure he rewards you with makes you wetter and warmer. He is rock hard in your hand now, the dusky head of his manhood shiny with moisture. You watch a bead of it appear at the tip and you slide your fingertips over it, transfixed by how smooth it feels. Beside you, Hoseok shudders.

“I think that’s enough for now,” he says, breathless. “I’ll be of no use to you if you keep that up for much longer.”

You have half a mind to protest, but then his hands are sliding over the thin material of your nightgown, cupping your breasts through the gauzy fabric. He takes one of your nipples between his fingers and teases it until it’s standing at attention. You sigh.

“Can I take this off?” he whispers, pulling at the nightgown.

You hesitate. Not even the King has seen you nude. Not once has he ever asked you to remove your nightgown and so for a long time, that is what you’d assumed he preferred. That is, until you’d caught him in bed with his lover.

“Look at me,” Hoseok says, sensing your anxiety. He tips your chin up until your gaze meets his own. “I’ll not ask you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. But I would be lying if I said that I didn’t want to use my mouth and hands on you. On all of you.”

You inhale deeply, flustered by the way he speaks so plainly about his desires. But that’s what you want, isn’t it? What you’ve longed for all this time. And that’s what he’s promised you, isn’t it? Pleasure. Pleasure that will be his and his alone.

You draw your nightgown up to your thighs and then raise up to pull it even higher. When you’ve finally discarded it, when there is nothing left between you and Hoseok you flush, looking away.

“You have nothing to hide,” he rasps. “You’re beautiful. Believe me, pretty bird – you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Emboldened by the praise, you draw nearer to him and trace the outline of his heart-shaped mouth with one finger. And then it is your lips that find his; your tongue that moves past the seam of his lips and your teeth that find the shell of his ear. You thread your fingers in his hair, and he groans, gathering you close.

“You can’t imagine how many nights I’ve dreamed of you like this,” he says, gently laying you back on the bed. “You can’t imagine how many nights I’ve taken myself in hand to these fantasies.”

Oh, but you can imagine, can’t you? The few times you’d dared to try and seek your own pleasure, it had been him in your mind’s eye as your hand was between your legs. It had always been him.

Hoseok’s mouth leaves yours and when it finds the tip of one aching breast, you gasp.

“Do you like that?” he goads, laving your nipple with his tongue, taking it between his teeth. The pang of pleasure he incites in you is so sharp, you cry out. “Your body is so responsive,” he murmurs. “So damned responsive.”

There is only so much of that particular torture you can take, and so when his mouth finally leaves your breasts you exhale a sigh of relief. But then his mouth is on your sternum, and then your stomach, and then –

You freeze.

“I want to kiss you here,” Hoseok explains, cupping your mound with one large hand. “I promised you pleasure and this is the surest way to it. Will you let me?”

He looks up at you from the edge of the bed, his dark hair wild and his dark eyes glossy with desire, his mouth hovering over your most secret place. Your pulse skitters, heart pounding erratically at the thought of him kissing you there.

“Is it – is it proper?” you ask, chiding yourself at once for asking such a stupid question. Your face flames when Hoseok raises a brow. “I don’t know that I’ve ever thought to consider the … propriety of such an act,” he says slowly. “But I know that you’ll enjoy it if you allow me to show you. And if you don’t enjoy it, I’ll stop.”

In the seconds that follow, you think about the way he’d let you take him in hand. How he’d showed you how to bring him pleasure, without reserve. How powerful you’d felt when he’d been shuddering under your touch. He’d trusted you, hadn’t he? Just as you now must trust him.

“Alright,” you whisper, nodding your assent. “I trust you.”

He grins at you then, wickedly, before lowering his mouth to your mons. And then he is kissing you there, softly, each brush of his lips moving lower and lower still. Until you feel the heat of his breath at your entrance. You tense.

“Relax for me,” he instructs, licking a long, wet stripe up the length of you. The touch sends a frisson of sensation shooting through your limbs. “Close your eyes and try to think of nothing but this.”

And then he sets his tongue to the tiny pearl at your entrance.

And at once, you see stars.

“H-Hoseok!” you gasp, your hips flying off the bed at the contact. The urge to snap your legs shut is almost as strong as the urge to push deeper into the pleasing press of his tongue. Almost.

But he pins your legs down with his arms and continues the onslaught, stroking and licking at you with his tongue, nipping at you with his teeth. You grab fistfulls of the duvet as though it might ground you somehow, keep you from bursting into flame.

And then he slides one long finger into you.

You are incoherent now, moaning and begging in broken sentences that do not make sense. But your body is responding in ways that your words cannot, hips moving in time with his mouth. Each pass of his tongue sends sharp spikes of pleasure to your core. You’d thought you’d known what this pleasure felt like, that perhaps you’d be able to reach it on your own someday, but never once had it been like this.

And then you can feel it – the coil turning inside you, the desperate ascent to the one place you’ve never been able to reach. And it’s so close, so so close – the promise of whatever awaits on the other side strong enough to sate this nameless craving that you’ve felt for so long. It’s within your reach now, if only you can just hold on.

And then it stops.

He takes his mouth and tongue away and the pleasure vanishes. “Hoseok, no,” you cry, sapped of all energy, robbed once again of the relief you so desperately seek. “Please,” you beg weakly, “please.”

But he’s at your side now, the length of his body resting against yours, his manhood hard and hot against your leg. “Come now, pretty bird,” he soothes, “I didn’t bring you this high just to let you fall.”

He presses his lips to your ear at the same time he presses his fingers back to the aching bud between your thighs. “Go on then,” he whispers. “Fly.”

He brings every sensation he’d wrought from you rushing back with his fingers. His mouth hovers at your ear, whispering his encouragement until the coil inside you snaps. He must have known that you’d not be able to contain yourself when you came apart because he covers your mouth with his own, swallowing the sobs he wrenches from you, bringing you down slowly as you come apart.

And when you finally come to your senses again, when your breathing has evened and your heart has slowed and every part of you feels liquid and languid, he smiles.

“I couldn’t risk you waking the entire castle,” he explains apologetically, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” you shudder through your quiet laughter, aftershocks of sensation rippling through you. “Quite the opposite, in fact. I’ve never – never experienced anything like that.”

“That’s mine,” he murmurs, going up on one elbow. “Just as I told you it would be.”

Indeed. But what about his pleasure? The firm reminder of it remains pressed against you, the rigid length of it leaking onto your duvet. You reach for it and he draws a sharp breath through his clenched teeth.

“I want to feel you inside me,” you say softly, noting the way a muscle tics in his jaw. You wrap your hand around him and squeeze, astounded by how feverishly hot he feels. “Please.”

Hoseok nods, climbing over you and settling his hips between your thighs. He takes himself in hand and when you feel the blunt head of him at your entrance, you tense again. But he doesn’t enter you right away. Instead he looks down at you, his dark eyes brimming with emotion.

“Are you certain,” he breathes, his brow dotted with a fine sheen of sweat. “I need to hear you say it.”

You lift up to kiss him, pressing your lips to his. “Take me, Hoseok,” you whisper. “Now.”

And in one sure stroke, he’s buried to the hilt inside you.

Bodies sealed, fates sealed.

The force of his entry steals the breath from your lungs. And though you’ve been breached before, it’s never felt like this. You’re still sensitive from the pleasure he’d given you only moments before and each of his thrusts only heightens the sensation.

You cling to him as he rocks against you, closing your eyes to revel in the fullness. He buries his head in your neck and thrusts harder, the sound of his skin meeting yours just as gratifying as it is lurid. And when he reaches between you to press his fingers to your pearl once again, impossibly you feel fresh pleasure begin to bloom.

Broken phrases fall from his lips, a string of curses and blessings and everything in between. And his coarse language doesn’t scandalize you; in fact it only causes you to hurtle towards the peak faster. And then you’re flying again – flying apart, scattering into a million pieces. Crying into his mouth as your release explodes into color and tiny wisps of fire slowly drift back to the earth.

But you come back to yourself just as his rhythm has started to falter, just as the steady cant of his hips becomes so frenetic that you know his own release is near. You have only a moment to mourn the loss of his weight and his warmth before he’s on his knees before you.

You’ve never seen anything more erotic. Firelight flickers over him as he throws his head back, the cords in his neck clenching as he takes himself in hand. And then he is groaning, long and low, as his release spills on to the duvet.

Then he collapses onto you, wrapping you up in his arms, turning you both until he’s on his back and your head rests upon his chest. And then you both lie there for a while, skin to skin, watching the flames cast shadows on the stone.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Neither one of you sleep, the threat of dawn too near to indulge in any such luxury.

“What happens now, Hoseok?”

You ask the question after he’s made love to you a second time, both of you too exhausted to move. Hoseok inhales and exhales deeply. “I don’t know. I have no control over the world outside of that chamber door, pretty bird.”

You map the lines of his chest with one finger, thoughtful.

“You told me earlier that if the King would not give me the things I desire, you would. Did you mean that?”

“I did,” Hoseok says, pressing a kiss to your hair. “If it’s within my power, then I will. I will give you anything I can.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. “Thank you.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

You sit by the window and take in the afternoon sunlight, eyes drooping as you fight to stay awake.

You cannot ever remember being so tired. You sleep in fits and starts now, two or three hours at a time. And your body is too fatigued to talk up walking again, though the fresh air and exercise would do you some good. But you will walk again, soon. It won’t be long before you’re sitting with your birds and reading in the gentle Spring breeze.

Hyeri charges into the room like a bull, the tea tray in her hand clattering loudly. You narrow her eyes at her as she approaches and she fixes you with a sardonic look.“Oh, hush you,” she grumbles, setting the tray down on the table and walking over to you. “I wasn’t that loud.”

But her scowl falls away as her gaze locks on the baby at your breast, her muted eyes glowing with admiration.

“That’s a fine Prince you have there, Your Grace,” she says softly. Then she looks up at you and her scowl returns. “Though at the rate you’re going, I’ll never get to hold him, will I? You’ve an entire staff to help you with him, and still you refuse. You’re going to make that boy rotten.”

You chuckle under your breath as you stroke your hand over the tuft of downy hair at your son’s crown. He blinks up at you with his huge dark eyes, and your heart is filled to overflowing with a love that you once you thought you’d never know.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

y,all i finished it! hahah okay so listen. if you'd like to talk to me, i'd love to hear from you. please consider reblogging and dropping me an ask 💕

#hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #j-hope smut #j-hope x reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts x reader

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leeknowlover99 · 4 months

Text

Skz as love tropes

found it in my drafts ;)

warnings: fluff, suggestive content

masterlist

Bang Chan - coworkers to lovers

you and Chan spent way too much time in a studio. working late nights, eating takeaway pizza, testing new ideas, leaving in the mornings when sun was already high up in the sky. you spent countless nights falling asleep on couch in small studio room. ever since you started working together something between you clicked, you understood and inspired each other. two lost souls trying to find peace in music, stressed overachievers trying to create something perfect. it should not come as a surprise that one day when nothing was working as it should in a heat of the moment you shared the most hungry passionate kiss you could imagine, changing your dynamic forever.

Lee Know/ Minho - neighbors to lovers

your relationship grew slowly. from passing each other on the corridor to saying shy hellos in the elevator to meeting in the coffee shop near by to taking care of his cat when he was on a business trip to going on long walks and talking about life together. Minho with tough and unreadable exterior turned into the softest person you knew. his kindness amazed you with each day. in a span of months from the total stranger he became your comfort person. the change in your relationship seemed so natural. you didn’t even realize when it turned from shy glances to getting railed in his sheets.

Changbin - exes to lovers

you tried to stay away from each other, you really did. it was not working out between you, work forced you to be separated more time than you would like. character differences caused loud arguments. but without each other you were even more doomed. stress piling up in your bodies, minds clouded with too many thoughts, sleepless nights when you missed each other way too much. so when one day you bumped into Changbin in a party next thing you knew you were pressed against him in someones bedroom, hungrily trying to make up for all the lost time. him whispering “i’m not gonna let you go ever again” against your lips.

Hyunjin - soulmates

nobody could replace Hyunjin. nobody could come even close. you have never met someone as passionate, gentle and unreal as him. the way you completed each other could only be described by word soulmates. you understood each other without any words, always knew what the other one needed, could sense emotions like you lived inside each others heads. one look at you two and everybody could see that. your eyes beamed with love when you were together, face glowed. lips curled into most gorgeous smiles. you just had that effect on each other.

Felix - fake dating

it started as an innocent lie but became so much more. the arrangement worked for both of you so you kept going with it. as time passed it was becoming more and more challenging to create that narrative. but neither of you wanted to end it. so you started going on dates, hanging out with your families, posting each other on social media, sleeping in the same bed. the line between the lie and reality was becoming blurry until one day of just vanished. you were no longer pretending, you were no longer keeping the act only when people were around. you were kissing in the loneliness of Felix’s room and although none of you said it you both knew that it became something more.

Han/ Jisung - fwb to lovers

Jisung was never the best when it came to any kind of relationships. one drunk night out with his pretty best friend and all he could think about is your perfect body and those plump lips. he needed you. you seemed to have the same idea. you also seemed to have the same problem with relationships. so after that one night neither of you talked about this. you just silently communicated when you needed each other. expressed your desires and feeling through gentle touches and passionate kisses. way too intimate for only friends. it took a long time for both of you to understand and admit that. but when you did you were two happiest people on this planet.

Seungmin - rivals to lovers

it was always the competition between you two. Y/N vs Kim Seungmin. you were both good, way better than everyone else. but neither of you liked sharing the spotlight. so you constantly tried to either beat the other one or mess with them. after all only one person could get the dreamt internship. this week has been particularly intense, electricity basically sparkling in the air when you were both in the same room. you needed to relax during weekend, that’s how you ended up at Chan’s party already drunk. what you did not expect was to find Seungmin here as well. the look he send your way when he saw you in the flimsy black dress made you weak. from that look only you knew the only competition you will be having tonight is who cums first.

Jeongin - childhood best friends to lovers

stolen glances, shy smiles, late night talks. you and your childhood best friend Jeongin were always more. but you were both too timid and unsure to act on it, so you loved each other in silence. spending all your precious days together, enjoying small moments, but deep down longing for more. and more did come. Jeongin gathered all his courage. “will you go to prom with me?” one day he appeared at your front door with a bouquet of tulips. “as friends?” you asked hoping for a negative answer. “as boyfriend and girlfriend” he responded quietly, cheeks blushed. you provided your response by connecting your lips in a shy kiss which quickly became more passionate when all your suppressed feelings could be finally released.

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cupid-styles · 9 months

Text

come on, disco queen*

Word count: 6,200+

70s!Harry and virgin fmc!! Enjoy disco bbs 🪩🍒💌🔮🫶🏼🩷

Smut CWs: dirty talk, talk of anal, fingering, squirting, fmc being a pillow princess hehe

—

Daisy's limbs are haphazardly thrown askew over the length of the couch when Harry walks into the apartment he shares with his sister, Willow.

He resists the urge to roll his eyes at her appearance; her stature barely covered in a crocheted halter top and a hopelessly tiny pair of denim shorts. She's barefoot, eyes closed and buried in the crook of her elbow. He assumes he's sleeping as he kicks his sneakers off and moseys into the kitchenette, focusing on the all-consuming dryness coating his throat and mouth.

San Diego in the middle of summer was not for the faint of heart.

She lifts her head up when her ears perk up at the sound of someone shuffling through the kitchen. She expects to see Willow, but instead is met with Harry, and huffs, dramatically tossing her head back against the woven pillow.

"Don't you have a home?" Harry finally bites, breaking the silence between the two. The only other sound echoing through the area of the apartment is the large fan Harry managed to snag with some leftover cash from his paycheck earlier this summer. Even though it's not efficient enough to cool down the entire place, it's decent at breaking down the sticky humidity.

"It's too hot to move." Daisy mutters. He glances over, trying to ignore her uncovered midriff and the way her breasts are barely covered by the white stitches of her top. This time, he does roll his eyes — it's not that he doesn't like his sister's best friend, it's just that if she was going to hang around the apartment, especially without Willow, then maybe she could cover up just a little bit more.

"Better start pitching in for electric then," he utters between sips of lukewarm tap water. "Willow still at work?"

Daisy sits up now, her long brown hair mussed by what Harry can only assume is an afternoon of laying down on his couch. She nods, blinking her eyes slowly as they adjust to the warmth of the room. It was one of Harry's favorite parts of the apartment — the way the sun hit in the late afternoon, effectively making it glow.

"Yeah. I think she swapped shifts with the pregnant girl she works with so she went in later. Think she said something about being home around 10 tonight?"

Harry nods as he finishes his glass of water, giving it a quick rinse and placing it on the dish towel they used for drying.

"You sticking around then?" he asks, leaning his hip against the refrigerator and crossing his arms over his chest. Daisy shrugs and glances up at the clock, her eyebrows raising slightly when she reads the time.

"Was thinking about hitting the record store before they close. I wanted to grab that new Fleetwood Mac album. I haven't been able to get that one song out of my head since I heard it on the radio the other day — you can go your own way, or something?"

Harry nods knowingly. He'd been a fan of Fleetwood since they release their last album and had been first in line to snag their most recent.

"Rumours, yeah?" He asks, and Daisy lights up, her eyes wide, "I have it. There's this one incredible song — "Dreams" — and it's all Stevie. The lyrics are amazing."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Harry replies, "I'm surprised you didn't already snag it when it came out."

Daisy works at the local record store which, if Harry's being completely honest, is kind of his dream job. He thinks it's really cool that she gets to check out all the newest music and has first dibs on albums, even if their music taste differed sometimes — he tended to lean more towards Led Zeppelin, while Daisy favored Donna Summer.

"It's been sold out for ages," Daisy says with a shrug, "I swear, there was a week where it was the only record I sold."

Harry chuckles at that and opens the refrigerator, reaching in to grab a can of Miller.

"You want one? I moved the player into my room 'cos of that party Willow threw a few weeks ago, when that kid almost ralphed all over it," Harry rolls his eyes, "We can listen to it in there, if you want."

Admittedly, Daisy is taken aback just a tad. She's been hanging around Willow for the past few years — she's originally from the Pacific Northwest and moved out to San Diego shortly after graduating high school, chasing a pipe dream on the tail end of '60s-fueled free love, only to find a major culture change in the early '70s.

The war out in Vietnam had created a ton of tension and, on her second day here, she spent the morning at a diner, her green eyes widened and glued to the hazy television reporting on the latest death count. She rolled her eyes when an older man huffed past her, mumbling something under his breath about being a sensitive hippie — she wasn't, she just had a compassionate heart — but she felt slightly seen when one of the waitresses sat down in the booth next to her, coffee pot in her hand, her own face crawling with horror.

They sat there in silence as the local news anchor read off the names of American soldiers that had passed in combat.

"'s heartbreaking, isn't it?"

Daisy turned to look at the waitress, a tanned, fresh-faced girl with curly brown hair.

"Totally freaky," Daisy sighed out with a shake of her head.

"You know anyone out there?" The girl asked, nudging her chin the direction of the television. Daisy was fortunate; she'd known a few guys from high school that had been unlucky enough to get drafted shortly after their 17th birthday, but that was it.

"No, thankfully not. You?"

The waitress pursed her lips, "No. My brother would've gotten picked for sure if he was an American citizen. Lucky for us, we're still working on the whole immigration thing. Brits and whatever."

"That's a trip." Daisy breathed, and the girl nodded.

"Totally." She stood from the booth and reached over to refill Daisy's coffee cup. "Are you new to town?"

"What, the duffel give it away?" Daisy smirked, making the girl laugh out loudly.

"Far out. Do you have a place to stay? You seem nifty, my brother and I have some room if you need a couch to crash on."

The rest, she supposes, is history.

Daisy only stayed at Harry and Willow's place for a month or so before nabbing a job at Sam's Records. Thanks to their generosity, she was able to save up to snag a small loft in the neighborhood, but she was happy.

She was especially happy when she was around Harry, too.

He didn't express a huge interest in Daisy, and she soon found out it was because he was a casanova of sorts. He worked hard, enough to maintain the apartment and pay the bulk of the rent and bills, but he was constantly bringing girls back for quickies. Willow would roll her eyes and gag, Daisy would ignore the twinge of jealousy in her heart.

So that's why she's a little surprised when Harry makes an offer to actually hang out without Willow. They normally ignore each other or make small talk until Willow gets home from work or relieves them of their awkward conversation. They haven't really spent too much time together one-on-one in the five years Daisy's been in San Diego.

But she's not foolish enough to let this opportunity to waste — it'd be a lie if she said she wasn't just a little bit attracted to Harry. Besides, with the amount of people he hooked up with, she as undeniably curious about what he had to offer.

"Yeah, sounds groovy," Daisy replies, standing from the couch and stretching her achy limbs out. She swears she catches Harry's eyes linger a little too long on the swell of her breasts beneath her top, but quickly convinces herself otherwise as he digs in the fridge for another beer. She follows him into his bedroom, a space that Daisy could recall being in only twice before: Once, a few days into her initial stay here when she was high off a few bong hits and thought she was walking into Willow's room, only to be met with a strawberry blonde straddling Harry's lap, mid-makeout (she'd quickly stammered and shut the door closed before Harry's eyes could even flutter open), and another time, with Willow, when she was looking for her Elton John record.

Both times, Daisy hadn't taken much of his room into view, instead feeling equally awkward and uncomfortable that she was there without his actual invitation. So when Harry places the two beer cans on his nightstand and strides over to his record player to turn Rumours on, she peeks at the little details of his space — a myriad of Polaroid photographs, some of friends, some with friends, some of people she didn't recognize. A stack of worn paperback books with swollen spines next to his bed, and Daisy feels her eyes widen when she notices Betty Friedan's The Feminine Mystique on top. She knew Harry was liberal and kind and all, but she never expected to find feminist theory literature in his room.

She's taking in the tacked up band posters covering the walls when the soundly crackle of vinyl fills the room. Harry turns with a cheeky smile on his lips as he places the record insert back in its sleeve, then nudges his chin in the direction of the sweaty, unopened cans of Miller.

"I heard they're supposed to play LA sometime this fall," Harry finally breaks the silence as Daisy hands him his can, the two of them cracking them open. She lifts hers to her lips and takes down greedy gulps, partially because of the heat but mainly because of Harry.

"Oh, right on," Daisy replies, shifting her stance from foot to foot. "I think I'm gonna try to hit that ABBA show next month in downtown SF."

Harry wrinkles his nose at her response as he sits on the edge of the bed, wordlessly encouraging Daisy to do the same. She does, albeit hesitantly, and with enough distance between them.

"That's a mighty drive for some disco," he teases, though there's a hint of seriousness to his commentary, "You going with someone decent?"

Daisy shrugs, "Willow was into it but she probably can't take off from work. I might ask that guy Warren I work with, he said he'd be down if he could get some good sales out of it."

Harry raises his eyebrows and quickly shakes his head between sips. "No way Jose, you're not making an eight hour drive to SF with a coke dealer."

Harry wasn't hugely into discos, but he was a frequent flyer when it came to tagging along with Willow and Daisy to ensure they were safe. As far as he knew, Daisy didn't dabble in coke all too much, even if it ran rampant in the nightclubs they attended.

"But if I don't go who knows when I'll be able to see them again—"

"I'll go with you," Harry blurts out before he can fathom the thought of a 16-hour drive, round trip, for a bubblegum group he doesn't even like. "Fuck Warren, he's good for nothing but drugs."

"Harry, you hate ABBA," Daisy rolls her eyes. "I'll be fine, really."

"Who says I hate ABBA?"

"You literally yell at us to turn it off every time we put Arrival on."

Harry shrugs his shoulders and leans back against the neat array of pillows, tucking his arms behind his head. "It's me or it's a no-go, disco queen."

She sighs and shakes her head before leaning back on her elbows, her palm pressed tightly against the condensation of the can. "Please, there's no way you would want to sit in a car with me for that long."

"Where'd you get that idea from?" Harry asks with furrowed eyebrows, pressing his lips into a thin line. Daisy's quiet for a moment, churning a reply in her head that doesn't offend him or make her sound dumb.

"You just... I'm your sister's friend, you know? I know you probably don't dig me too much, and that's fine, but you don't have to go out of your way for me just because I don't have anyone else to go with."

"What makes you think I don't dig you?" Harry pushes, making Daisy sigh.

"It's nothing, forget it," she mumbles, finishing off her beer, "Thanks for this, the album's righteous, I'll pick it up at my next shift."

Harry's scrambling to stop her as she walks out to the living room and shuffling her shoes on. Dreams sounds from his bedroom, the song he was most excited to show her, and it only drives his actions further, her words echoing and gnawing into his heart.

"Daisy, stop," he tries, grasping out to wrap his fingers around her wrist, "Stop— just, talk to me, will you? C'mon, I— I don't know where you got that from, I think you're really stellar, Dais."

Daisy looks up at him, momentarily glancing down to hand around her wrist before shifting her wide eyes back to his. "You don't have to be like this, I gotta head home anyway—"

"You don't," Harry shakes his head, stepping closer to her, invading her space as she backs against the front door. "You've been jiving here all day, you don't have to go home. Don't lie to me."

Daisy lets out a frustrated sigh at his pushy nature, but not before she's entirely too distracted by his musky scent and the way his palm is pushed against the wall, right next to her head, making his bicep flex just slightly. She watches as his tongue peeks out and he licks over his lips, waiting for her to break. If it had been anyone else in the world, she would've done everything she could to remove herself from the situation, go home, and soak in the bath while she beat herself up about being too awkward, not sociable enough.

But this is Harry. And Daisy can't, even if she desperately wants to, say no to him.

So she huffs and darts her eyes back to his bedroom, making an annoyed gesture with her hands that signaled what she really wanted to say: c'mon then, dipshit, let's go talk.

Harry's smirking as Daisy kicks her shoes back off, a triumphant puff to his chest. When they return, he closes the door just gently enough to where she wouldn't have noticed if she weren't hyper aware of his every action.

"Right, then," Harry says, sitting down across from Daisy on the bed, who now has her legs criss-cross-applesauce. He follows her lead and allows for her a decent distance between them. Daisy feels like she's having an awkward first kiss with someone via spin the bottle, but she quickly bats the thought of kissing Harry away. "Why don't you think I like you?"

"Because," Daisy sighs, reaching up to cover her warm face with her hands, "I'm just Willow's annoying friend, you know? Always in your way and at your place, drinking your beer and listening to your records."

"Where did you even get that idea?" Harry asks with furrowed brows, shaking his head. "I don't think you're annoying, and I don't care that you hang here, with or without Willow. You can drink all my fuckin' beer or listen to my records until they scratch."

Daisy blushes at that. He's never outwardly declared any type of fondness towards her, friendly or not.

"You just... always seem so peeved when you come out with us to the discos and stuff," Daisy admits, shrugging lightly, "I feel like you think you have to babysit me or something."

Harry chuckles with a shake of his head. "You're a trip, you know that?" His question is rhetorical, so she continues sitting there, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "Yeah, I wanna make sure you guys are being safe and no, I don't love disco or boogieing down the way you lot do. But I'm never peeved about hanging with you, Dais. I'm sorry if I did something to make you feel that way, but I promise, you're more to me than Willow's friend."

Daisy's eyes finally meet his. Harry notices the faint blush that blossoms over her cheeks, and he can't help the way his lips turn upward in the smallest tick, his heart expanding ever so slightly at the sight.

"That's nice of you," she eventually mumbles out, blinking slowly. He chuckles quietly and shrugs, murmuring out, "yeah, I guess."

Side A of Rumours is long over now; the only noise sounding through the room is the repeated spin of the vinyl, over and over again. Daisy glances over to the record player, her bottom lip dropping open.

"You should— you should stop that," she says, "It'll scratch the record."

Harry smirks. He watches as she cowers slightly and he notes her nervous energy, the way her anxiety radiates off of her in small waves.

"Would you get me a new one if I did?" he asks, his voice dropping to a raspy tone.

Daisy looks back at Harry, her eyes somehow seeming even wider now. "Y-yeah. If you needed it, yeah."

"Yeah?" he teases, "You're good that way, aren't you?"

"H-Harry—" Daisy's lips fold over the syllables of his name, as if she's broken herself from the spell she was under. "I... you don't have to do this. I get it, you don't think I'm annoying but... don't just try to sleep with me 'cause you feel bad for me."

Harry lets out a frustrated sigh as he backs out of her space, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"Why do you think you're some kind of charity case?" he asks with a shake of his head. "I don't feel bad for you, Daisy, and I would never take advantage of you in that way."

"You're just— you're you! And I'm me! And it doesn't make sense that you'd want anything to do with me outside of Willow! You've never acted this way before—"

"Yeah, exactly!" Harry exclaims, cutting off the words falling from Daisy's mouth. "You're my little sister's best friend, and I don't want to fuck things up between you two by doing anything stupid. I've been staying away from you for years because it's easier to do that than hurt you or her or get hurt myself if things didn't work out!"

Daisy's jaw drops open at Harry's admission, her cheeks immediately warming. She wants to cover her blush with her hands, but she can't find it in her to move, let alone tear her gaze away from his. His Adam's apple bobs in his throat as he awaits a response, so when she's at a loss for words, he huffs in frustration and shakes his head, standing from the bed.

"Forget it— just forget I fuckin' said anything," he mutters, rounding the bed to open his bedroom door, his denim bell bottoms swishing with his steps. "Go home if you need to, stick around if you want— just pretend this never happened, alright?"

"I— Harry, stop," Daisy finally musters, shaking her head as she attempts to process, "I'm not... I don't want to forget what you just said. I'm just trying to understand it."

"What else is there to understand?" He bites.

"Am I... am I wrong in assuming that you like me? Is that what you're trying to say?"

Please don't be wrong, please don't be wrong, please don't be wrong—

"Yeah. That's what I'm saying, Daisy."

The world slows just a bit — not just for Daisy, but for Harry, too. He'd never really envisioned a time where he admitted to having feelings for his little sister's best friend, but it seemed that they'd brewed and simmered for so long that they had no choice but to boil over. Daisy was just as surprised, though. She'd spent the past few years assuming that he hated her and looked at her like a naïve nuisance always taking up space.

"Can you say something?" Harry finally grumbles, and Daisy isn't aware of how long it's been since he made his confession.

"I..." her eyebrows are furrowed, confusion apparent on her face as she looks up. "Why me?" This time, he returns the same expression.

"Are you serious?" Harry echoes, "You're... you're beautiful and smart and so sweet to everyone you meet. I've seen you trip-sit more kids in this apartment than I care to count, and you didn't even know 'em all. You have good taste in music, even if it includes ABBA... you're amazing to my sister, and every time we stop into the record store and you're just sitting there, reading your books... Dais, I swear to god, you look like a goddamn angel."

A furious blush flowers over Daisy's neck and face. She'd watched Harry hookup with a constant rotation of people, all of who she felt were more attractive than her. It felt unreal to hear that he thought she was pretty and kind.

"Can I— can I kiss you?" Daisy blurts, raising to her knees, the plushy bedding of Harry's mattress digging into her legs.

"Yes. Please, Dais, kiss me."

She nods and leans forward, slow and hesitant. Their lips brush against one another and Harry reaches up to carefully caress her cheek, gently pulling her closer until finally, they make contact.

It feels as though years of tension are being translated through their kiss. Harry's quick to meld his mouth against hers, moving his lips in a careful pace. She meets him halfway with similar touches; quiet smacks of their lips moving together. With a hand on his thigh, Harry's tongue enters Daisy's mouth and he's licking at her, more eagerly now that he's gotten a taste. Daisy parts from him momentarily, but only to move over his lap and straddle his legs, her heels pressed into her bum as she wraps her arms around his neck to pull him back in for another kiss.

She feels floaty and loses herself in the warm comfort of Harry's mouth, especially when his large hands find the backs of her thighs, sliding up to her ass. She swears she's never felt so good before, until the hardness of Harry's length makes itself known, poking at her core between layers of fabric. It's just enough to rip her out of her dreamy state, and she parts with a small gasp when he involuntarily bucks his hips up, searching for some sort of friction-filled release.

"Fuck— I'm sorry," Harry mutters out through spit-slicked lips. They're a muted cherry hue now, the same color they get when he's had a few too many glasses of red wine, or when he's saying goodbye to his one night stand in the hallway.

"It's okay," Daisy mumbles. She knows it's just human biology, that it's obviously natural for guys to get hard during heated makeout sessions. It's not like she's never felt a dick before, but it's also just that — she's never actually felt a dick before. "Um, I just— can we slow down?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. You just— I'm just like... really excited, I guess, and my body... knows that."

"It's fine, Harry," Daisy peeps out, smiling softly at the blush covering his cheeks, "But, uh... I've never... been with anyone before."

"What do you mean?"

She resists the urge to roll her eyes. She had hoped that he would've caught on, but clearly she was wrong.

"I've never been with anyone."

"But I've seen you makeout with people at the disco and shit."

"Yeah, but I've never taken them home."

It takes a moment for it to click, but when it does, Harry's eyes widen and his mouth forms around an oh. Daisy feels an all-encompassing embarrassment take up her entire form — she'd disclosed this information to people in the past, and they normally scampered off because the responsibility of taking her virginity was simply too much. She understood that, truly, but it got tiring after awhile. And, let's face it — this was Harry, and she really, really didn't want to feel stupid in front of him.

"I'm... I didn't know that."

Daisy shrugs, "It's not exactly like I go around parading it."

"Well, I would hope not."

This time, Daisy does roll her eyes, and Harry smirks as she gently pushes at his shoulder. The awkwardness melts just slightly and Daisy's body relaxes.

"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to— I get that it can be a big deal for some chicks," Harry says, moving his palm to gently squeeze her hip, "But I do really like you, Daisy. And this doesn't change that."

Her heart swells in her chest and warmth envelops her belly. He has a dopey, lovesick smile on his lips — the same one he gets when he, Daisy, and Willow share a joint at the end of a night out, she notices — and she knows her face looks just as silly, if not more so.

"I like you too," she murmurs, reaching out to run her fingertips along the length of his jaw. She traces over his slightly scruffy beard, which she knows is a day or two overgrown. She trails up to the mustache covering his upper lip, the one Willow always complains about and says makes him look like a homeless hippie, but Daisy secretly adores. She ends at his lips, gently pulling at his bottom one to form a puppy's pout. Playfully, he nips at her fingertip and she giggles.

She doesn't retract her finger and instead presses her thumb between his swollen lips. He allows her to it, readily and openly, the digit laying flat against his tongue before he wraps his lips around it, sucking down softly.

"Oh," she breathes, feeling his tongue lazily swirl around her thickest finger. Daisy's core flutters at the image; the way his cheeks are hallowed out ever so slightly, a perfect picture of submission beneath her.

"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to," Harry whispers. She doesn't know how long she's been in his bed on top of his lap, but she assumes it's been awhile with the way golden hour is soaking every inch of his bedroom. She's slow in her movements, with the way she removes her finger from his mouth and, instead of climbing off like he'd expected her to, trails her hand below her crocheted top, brushing her spit-covered thumb over her nipple.

"Oh, fuck."

Daisy's head lulls to the side as she plays with herself, her nipple slowly hardening between her fingertips. Harry can barely see anything through the white crocheted vest, just peaks of flesh and the warm-toned hues of her nipples, and his jaw has still managed to go slack as he watches her with parted lips. She's a real life wet dream, he's sure of it.

"Dais..." Harry sighs as she lifts her hand to her mouth, wetting her fingers only to travel back down to give her other nipple the same treatment, "Lemme see? Please, baby, I'm desperate."

Daisy hums at his admission. It's hard to ignore the electricity that zips through her belly at the word baby, but she tries to keep her cool, even if she has no idea what she's doing. Slowly, she lifts her arms and ditches her torso of the netted material, allowing the breeze coming from the fan to only harden her nipples even further.

"Can I touch?" He asks, his eyes flickering up to hers for consent, "You can dictate the pace, lemme know what you're comfortable with but— 'm gonna die if I can't touch your pretty tits, Dais."

Daisy nods, her words stuck in her throat from Harry's boldness. He's quick to duck beneath her form as a surprised yelp tumbles from her lips, but it's quickly replaced with a whimper as he attaches his mouth to her nipple. He's sucking and licking, going back and forth between each one, his large hands gripping harshly at her hips. She's struggling to keep still but it's especially difficult when he nips at the sensitive buds, his teeth supplying the most delicious and quick licks of pain.

"Harry, I—"

His head snaps at up the second his name leaves her throat, immediately removing his lulling tongue from the patches of skin he'd been obsessing over.

"What's wrong?" Harry asks, panicked. She shakes her head and breathes out tensely as she pathetically tries to roll her hips against his; an attempt to showcase her communication better, but he's reluctant in accepting it.

"Words, bub," he instructs, reaching up to cradle her jaw in his palm, "Are you okay?"

"Good," Daisy bobs her head, "Feels good. I— more, please?"

Her words are a jumbled mess as they float from her brain to her mouth. She knows she must sound borderline high but Harry doesn't tease, instead sliding his hand down to the waistband of her denim shorts, his palm flush against her tummy.

"What do you want?"

She swallows. She's hooked up with people before, gotten fingered and given a few blowies, but she's never been asked to verbalize her needs. It makes her flush with embarrassment as her jaw opens and closes dumbly, unsure of what she's even requesting of Harry.

"I don't know," she finally breathes, hitching her bottom lip between her teeth. "I'm sorry. No one's ever asked me what I want before, I don't have as much experience as you—"

"Shush," Harry's quick to shut her up with a shake of his head. "I don't want you to feel bad about that. I just want to make sure I'm not pushing you too far. You get to decide, this is your body."

Daisy leans into Harry's grasp, pressing her cheek against his hand.

"Here, why don't you tell me where I can touch you?" he suggests, moving his other palm back up to her breasts, "Are you still alright here?"

She nods, gasping as he pinches her nipple between his fingers. His hands travel down to the swell of her ass, cupping her cheeks firmly.

"And what about here?"

"Mhm." her eyes flutter when he squeezes, a moan bubbling in her throat.

He keeps one hand on her bum as he uses the other to trail featherlight touches along the inside of her thigh, up to her core. She can feel her hole squeezing around nothing, a steady thumping buzzing through her clit, and she whimpers when he cups her pussy through her shorts.

"Is this okay, baby?"

Daisy nods, her breath quickening at the sensation. "You— you can take them off," she says in a moment of courage, "Want you to touch me there."

"Ah," Harry smirks as he unbuttons the denim, dragging the zipper down. "You want me to touch your little pussy, is that it?"

She whines as he budges her up just far enough to shimmy the material down her legs. She's not wearing the sexiest of underwear — just a plain cotton pair in a light blue — but Harry still licks his lips at the sight of the damp patch flowering over her hole, where he's desperate to feel.

"Has anyone ever touched you down here?"

"Yes," she mumbles, bucking her hips against his hand. His thumb is drawing light circles into her clit, not enough to satiate her need for him, instead providing a semblance of sensation.

"Do you ever do it?" he questions, moving his finger down to her hole. She's clenching with need as he gently pushes a finger in through the fabric. He's not fingering her, not even close; just making her whimper with need at the thought of what she could have if she answers him.

"Sometimes, yes," Daisy nods.

"What do you do?"

"I, um," she licks over her swollen lips, attempting to focus on his question as he dips in again. "I rub my clit... sometimes I put a finger in."

"Is that all it takes to make you cum?" his tone is teasing now, making her feel embarrassed.

"Usually."

"Usually?" he raises a brow, "What else do you do to make this pretty pussy cum?"

Daisy swallows loudly. "Sometimes... if I'm really turned on, I'll touch myself... lower."

"Lower?" Harry repeats, unsure if he's understanding her correctly. "Like...?"

"Yeah."

A devilish smirks takes over his face as he moves one of his hands to cup her ass again, this time squeezing even tighter.

"Is that why you moan so loud when I grab you here?"

She nods, ducking her head back in pleasure. Just the feeling of being slightly stimulated in both places is nearly enough to get here there, not to mention it's Harry doing the touching.

"And who taught you that?" he asks as he pushes the material of her underwear down her thighs.

"Um, a guy I hooked up with once," Daisy murmurs, sitting up slightly. She's naked now, still on top of him, while he remains in his work clothes from earlier today. Her pussy is bare to his wandering eye and he can't help the way he takes in her most intimate parts.

"And you liked it when he toyed with your cute bum?" Harry continues his relentless teasing much to Daisy's dismay, who is all but squirming with need. He relieves some of the consuming pressure in her stomach by taking his fingers between her pussy lips, spreading them to expose her clit. He lightly runs his fingertip over the sensitive nub and she shivers, nodding her head.

"He just... licked me there while he was going down on me," Daisy explains with fluttered eyes, "And the next time I played with myself I put a finger in... made me feel dirty but so good."

"Jesus, you really are a dirty little girl, hm?"

Apparently, Harry feels that she's answered enough of his questions and deserves a reward. She lets out a hearty moan when he applies more pressure to her clit, starting in tight, small circles. She's glistening for him and making a mess between her thighs, making Harry's mouth water just at the sight.

"You're a drippy mess," he mutters as he squeezes her bum. He lowers his hand downward to where she's aching the most, circling twice and dipping in to spread her wetness around. He uses his other hand to continue rubbing at her pearly clit as he pushes his finger in, his jaw dropping at the sight of Daisy arching her back and whimpering on top of him. "Fuckin' gorgeous girl."

Harry starts off at a tantalizing pace but when he sees how responsive she is to every little touch — well, he's only human, and he can't help but want to get her to her breaking point as quickly as possible. He's not sure if anyone she's hooked up with has ever cared to make her cum before, but with the way she's grinding down against his hand and palming at her own breasts, he thinks anyone that had a chance to see her like this and didn't is an absolute fool.

"Are you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?" Harry asks. He can feel her tightening around the finger that's currently deep inside of her, poking and prodding at that special spot with each thrust. She's so wet that he's positive there's a wet spot on his work pants but he couldn't care less.

"Y-yes," Daisy nods helplessly, bouncing up and down as he pushes a second finger into her opening. It's a slight stretch, but nothing she can't take, that much is clear.

"Such a good girl, Daisy," he mutters mainly to himself, "Can't believe I went this long without feeling you squeeze my fingers like this... be my good girl and cum for me, baby, let me see you."

The squelching sound of his fingers rapidly moving against her are a telltale sign that she's at her end, but it's the slight gush around his hand and her throaty moans that stick with him. He watches in awe as she squirts on his fingers, helping her through her orgasm, her muscles contracting quickly.

"Fuck," Harry utters, "You're absolutely filthy. Been hiding this from me for years, hm?"

Daisy's eyes have long since fluttered closed as she comes down from her peak, so Harry does the only thing he can think of. Gently removing his fingers from her, he hooks an arm around her to keep her steady before lifting his hand to his mouth and finally having a taste of her arousal.

"Harry," Daisy breathes when she sees him, her eyes slightly widened at the visual beneath her.

"You taste incredible, Dais."

Without thinking, she leans forward and messily melds their lips together, her tongue prodding into his mouth. He welcomes it and groans at her eagerness. They part a minute or so later, both with spit swollen lips.

"I think I'm addicted to you, Daisy Walker."

Part two | Part three | Series masterlist

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comicaurora · 4 months

Note

Hi! I finally got the chance to read Aurora a bit ago. It's a wonderful story--all I was expecting and better! I was particularly amazed and delighted by the artwork and visual mechanics used to tell the story, so I wrote a post to yell about how cool it is and break some of it down. (No criticism, just praise.) I'm mostly a hobbyist, so I'm hoping I've done it justice.

That said: zero pressure to read it or respond to this ask. Normally I wouldn't send it since I tagged, but I know Tumblr's notifs are a mess and things get lost very easily. I've been in both the "one (1) word of praise will feed me for a year" and the "oh gods don't talk about my writing/art because anything that seems Off will break my brain" modes before, and I absolutely don't want to push or make you uncomfortable!

If you are comfortable, however, I wanted to ask about your use of what I'm assuming are Screen and blending modes in sound effect words. (I'm only guessing that's the technique, though, so I could be totally wrong about how it's done! I'm mostly experienced in image manipulation in Photoshop.) Making them semi-transparent over the actions is genius :) What inspired you to do that, and are there specific techniques you use to make it work?

Same questions go for using specific colors to distinguish different characters' words and actions. I really noticed it in the cave sequence with Falst and Dainix, since their colors are so vivid in the dark (ex. Falst's little swats and Dainix's swooping kick at 1.20.9). It lends excellent clarity to busy scenes.

Thanks! Have a lovely day, enjoy your break, and happy holidays <3

You're correct about the technique! "Screen" is the blend mode I use most often for sound effects. I stumbled on it mostly through trial and error - I love how sound effects add depth to a comic panel, but it's very easy for them to obscure the art in a way I find counterproductive, so "Screen" lets me put the sound effect directly over the origin of the sound while still letting it be visible through the word. Early chapters didn't have it as much-

Most of the sound effects in early chapters are just solid colors with reduced opacity if I'm feeling fancy. But I started figuring it out around chapter 8 and 9, because Falst is kind of a sound-effect-heavy guy, especially in his fight scenes.

In order to make sure they don't impede the visibility of the action, I'll often soft-erase the top or bottom half of the SFX to reduce its opacity while still leaving it readable.

I'll usually double that up with an outline on the SFX so it's still readable. This is an especially important consideration if the SFX goes over an area of the background that's very bright or glowing.

Color-coding the speed lines and SFX to the character or force causing them isn't a hard and fast rule, but I like using it (in part because it's a habit from the OSP illustrations, where every character has a single pop of color in their lineart) mostly because it sort of codes every sound to make it clear where it's emanating from, or the general feeling of the sound. Since I normally do character-colors for SFX, something like this stands out more jarringly-

Which it's supposed to, but a big lightning strike doesn't register as anything too worrying because it's just Tess up to her usual shenanigans.

It's also very useful for magic effects, because each form of magic has its own associated palette.

And when I had a very complicated fight scene in a dark environment, I used the texture pattern I'd already made for the monster to color its SFX, so when I Screened them onto the panels they didn't obscure too much while still communicating "this is something else."

Changing the weight, lined-vs-not-lined, and opacity of the SFX words also helps to communicate that not every sound has the same feeling. A strong motion is solid and aggressive, but a crackling, unstable sound is more ephemeral and staticky.

It's definitely been a process of learning as I go - looking back at the earlier chapters I can actually see when I first tried various tricks I now use regularly, like doubling and distorting an SFX to produce the effect of a camera-shaking impact. I haven't really seen any other comics that do it like I do, probably because most other comics follow a more traditional production pipeline where text bubbles and sound effects get locked into the composition early, before the inking stage, because traditional physical comics don't have digital-art layers to play with. Adding sound effects to a page is almost the last thing I do before exporting them, and that only works because digital art and layers allow for a ton of flexibility.

#asks #aurora #art stuff

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sweetestdesire · 7 months

Text

EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED

WARNINGS: hair pulling, extreme domination, public sexual acts, exhibitionist kink, etc. 18+ readers only

PAIRING(S): Trevor Zegras x Hughes!Reader

SUMMARY: in which Hughes!Reader gets some alone time with her brother’s best friend.

Y/N slung her bag over her shoulder and wandered down the paved pathway that led to her parents backyard. A trio of butterflies floated past while trees and lush plants overflowed from raised garden beds, creating a shady oasis from the summer sun. She drew in a breath and let it out in a contented sigh.

She pushed open the side gate and stepped from the enclosed area into the open backyard. Late-afternoon sunshine bathed the in-ground swimming pool and gardens bordering the property in a warm glow. An expanse of decking accommodated a couple of sun lounges at the water's edge.

Y/N dropped her bag beside the nearest one and slipped off her sandals. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and secured it with the tie that she kept around her wrist. She stripped off her shirt and dropped it onto the lounge, then shoved her shorts down and added them to the pile. She wandered over to the pool in her bright red bikini, taking time at the edge to indulge in a long stretch.

Just as she let out a breath and prepared to dive in, the creak of the side gate sounded behind her. "Hey, little Hughes."

Y/N didn't have to turn around to know who stood there. If his deep, husky voice hadn't been a dead giveaway, the fact that no one else ever called her by that name told her it was her brothers long-time best friend, Trevor.

Y/N turned to face him. "Hey. What are you doing here?" Her heart thumped harder at the sight of him. She hid her reaction behind her usual smile and let her gaze slide over him.

His board shorts sat low on his hips and his white tank top showcased a lean, muscled body. She wanted to sigh at the vision then slap herself for being so easily affected by him. The way his sensual mouth kicked up at one corner made her feel as if he could hear her thoughts.

"I'm staying in the spare room for a few days.” Trevor said.

"Really? Jack didn’t say anything."

Y/N had developed a crush on Trevor back when she was seventeen, and although he'd never shown the slightest interest in her, she'd figured making a move on him would help open his eyes to her appeal. With the benefit of hindsight and a little maturity, she could see now why that idea had been destined for failure.

Years later, her cheeks still grew hot at the memory of him laughing at her inexperienced attempts at seduction. It had been so awkward she would have laughed too if she hadn't been completely mortified.

Trevor grinned as he walked over to her. "I guess Jack didn't feel the need to tell you since... you know, you don't live here anymore." His gaze dropped to her breasts for a fraction of a second as he bumped his shoulder against hers.

Y/N knew she was in trouble when just that brief flicker of interest could get her pulse racing. "I guess you're right.” She said.

It amazed her that he had this power over her and had absolutely no idea, or at least appeared to be oblivious. Many times she'd silently admonished herself for being such a wimp about the whole situation. She should’ve been having fun trying to turn the tables on him, but the embarrassment from the last time she'd tried was still too fresh in her memory.

"Here for a swim?" Trevor asked.

"Yep." She adjusted the tie on her bikini top, not intentionally trying to draw his attention back there, but it had that effect on him. "Feel like having your ass kicked over a few laps?"

Trevor’s gaze returned to hers. He let out an amused breath as if he knew he'd been caught looking. "Yeah, why not."

He pulled his keys and wallet from his shorts and strolled over to her clothing to drop his belongings beside hers. Once he'd kicked off his shoes, Trevor grabbed the neckline of his tank top and tugged it over his head. He let it fall from his dangling fingertips then turned to face her. Y/N had to fight not to close her eyes and sigh. He was just too damn appealing.

Her eyes followed his movements as he walked back toward her. She took in the relaxed set of his shoulders, the smile that hovered at his mouth. She'd only had the opportunity to be alone with him for brief moments in the past because her brothers were always been around. Y/N wasn't sure she could handle the temptation and the torture now she had him all to herself.

"Why the frown?" Trevor asked, coming to a stop before her.

She tried her best to shake away the thoughts and rolled her shoulders. "Just mentally preparing for a win, that's all."

Trevor flicked her ponytail, the gleam of amusement in his eyes telling her he knew there was something more to it than that. "Well, are you going to get in or just stand there all day posing?"

Y/N tried to glare at him, but laughter bubbled up inside her. "There's only one poser here and we both know it's not me."

He grabbed her wrists and held them out to her sides. "Why were you doing that thing with your boobs, then?" He asked.

The rising laughter burst from her in a surprised breath. "What thing?"

"Pushing them out to get my attention. You don't need to do that. Believe me, I already noticed."

Y/N made a show of trying to tug her hands free, even though the sensation of his fingers tightening on her wrists made her skin tingle with awareness.

"I don't need or want your attention.” She said.

"Really?" His gaze wandered down her body.

Y/N held her breath, her heart pounding at his blatant appraisal. She had to keep reminding herself he was only teasing and trying to make a point, but a shiver passed through her and her nipples hardened under the weight of his stare.

When his eyes met hers again, her breath hitched and her cheeks flooded with heat. "Liar.” Trevor said, smiling. "You're still into me, aren't you?"

Y/N tried to laugh, but it came out more like a choking sound. "No!" Could he see it on her face? She'd always tried to keep it her own little secret. Not even her closest friends knew the depth of her feelings for him.

Trevor tugged her closer. "You can tell me the truth. I won't make a big deal out of it."

"It's been years. How sad would it make me if I'd been carrying a torch for you all this time?"

"Maybe it would make you dedicated or romantic. I don't know these things, I'm a guy."

"Don't worry; I'm well aware of that fact." Y/N forced herself to look him straight in the eyes. "I've moved on, okay. It was just a silly crush."

"You sure?"

His words sounded casual, but she heard an underlying tone there that she'd never noticed before. "Uh-huh."

Their gazes meshed. Her breaths came hard. It gave her a small sense of satisfaction to see that for whatever reason he appeared to be struggling, too. He'd pulled her so close that her hardened nipples brushed against his chest. Y/N gasped at the contact; Trevor swore under his breath.

Trevor let go of her wrists and turned away from her. She took in the hard lines of his profile, her pulse racing at the sudden change in mood.

"What?" Y/N asked. "What did I do?"

"Nothing." Trevor shook his head and stared at the ground.

Several tense seconds passed where she stood waiting, not knowing how to respond. While she was still trying to figure out what had happened, Trevor scooped her up in his arms and tossed her into the pool.

Her screech of protest cut through the air as the cool water crashed over her. Y/N held her breath and felt the splash beside her as he followed her in. She pushed to the surface spluttering and swiping the hair from her eyes.

“I can't believe you did that!" Y/N sliced her hand through the water to send the spray into Trevor’s face.

Although he appeared more at ease now the strange moment between them had ended, the glint in his eye told her he had retaliation in mind. Before he could make a move she took off, trying to put some distance between them. Several strokes in, Trevor grabbed her ankle and dragged her back toward him.

Y/N let out a laughing scream and kicked to no effect before suddenly finding herself twisted around and pressed against a hard, wet body. Her thigh slid between his as they disentangled themselves. She unintentionally rubbed her knee against the bulge in his shorts and a sudden craving hit her hard. Her mouth opened; unfortunately she'd forgotten how to speak.

Y/N couldn't look at him, but she couldn't look away either. "You're...”

"Jesus, Y/N. Shut up."

She heard the reluctant humor in his voice. The water came up to his shoulders, but she had to work to keep afloat. "Why's your cock hard?" Y/N asked. "I mean, around me?"

"Please, Y/N.” Trevor appeared to be struggling between amusement and embarrassment which only made her more curious. "Don't say that word."

"What word?" Y/N asked. "Cock?"

Trevor growled and grabbed her elbows, dragging her against him. She'd never seen him look this uncomfortable before. "I swear, if you say that one more time."

Y/N couldn't stop a wide smile from spreading across her face. She felt like she had the upper hand for the first time ever with him. "Cock.” She said. If the word came out sounding a little breathy and seductive, it wasn't her fault. Not really.

"Y/N." The warning look Trevor gave her only made her want to push him further to find out what happened when she went too far. He scrubbed his hand down his face and sighed. "Quinn’s going to fucking kill me."

"What are you talking about?" The way he looked at her had her stomach lurching in hope and despair all at the same time. His gaze lowered to her mouth, lingering there long enough to have her self-consciously wetting her bottom lip.

"Trevor?" Y/N drew in a sharp breath, trying not to care too much too soon. His eyes remained on hers, his expression resigned. "That's why you asked if I still had a thing for you, because you're into me?"

Something grew to bursting point inside her, something big and happy that made her feel full and alive. Her heart pounded. Her fingers clenched on his shoulders.

"How long?" Y/N asked.

"A while."

"You big idiot. Why didn't you say anything? If you had any idea how much I…” Y/N shook her head at the amount of time they'd both wasted. "Why did you say Quinn would kill you?"

"Have you met Quinn? He made it pretty fucking clear that I can't make a move on his little sister.”

Y/N laughed. She couldn't help herself. This was just too ridiculous for words. "So you're going to stand back and do nothing? Is that how it goes?"

"Until I think of a better idea."

"Is this some kind of man-code thing? I thought women were supposed to be the complicated ones?”

"We're protective of our sisters. If he tried it on with mine I'd be pissed, too." Trevor looked like he was trying to suppress a smile which only made her want to bring it to the surface more.

"You're telling me that no matter what I say or do, you're going to stand your ground and not take this any further?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying."

As far as she was concerned he'd just given her free rein to tease him mercilessly until he cracked under pressure. Y/N couldn't think of a better way to spend a Saturday afternoon, especially since she'd just expected to come here for a quick dip and head home.

"Are we going for that swim?”

She looked up at the sound of his voice, feeling the sudden urge to wrap herself around him and kiss him senseless. Y/N settled for pulling him closer with her fingers curled over his shoulders. "I have a better idea." Her legs parted, hugging his waist to draw him against her.

"What are you doing?"

"Testing the limits." Y/N held back a smile and flattened her palm against his shoulder, sliding her hand down to his chest. Her pinkie grazed his nipple and she felt the sharp jolt that went through him. "You're really going to play hard to get?"

Trevor swept his thumb over her temple. "Only until this is all out in the open. I don't want to sneak around with you."

Hearing him talk about her in this way made her heart thud. Y/N lifted her hand to comb back his hair, watching the way his eyes closed to soak up the pleasure in her touch.

“Please, Trevor.” Y/N said. She pressed a soft kiss beside his mouth then brushed her lips across his skin to play at his ear. "I've been waiting years for you."

Trevor groaned and rubbed his cheek against hers, his arms coming around her waist to pull her even closer. His erection pressed against her insistently.

Y/N sank one hand into his thick hair while the other swept up and down his spine. "I think you should kiss me.” She said.

"I can't." His arms tightened around her briefly. "I'm trying not to fuck everything up."

Y/N smiled and touched her lips to his earlobe. "Just let me seduce you and you can blame it all on me.”

A laughing breath left him. He smoothed his hand over her shoulder. "Nice idea, but that's not going to happen."

Y/N figured it wouldn't take much to get him to change his mind. She pulled back to look at him, enjoying the warmth in his gaze as it traveled over her. Her knee slid between his again, lifting higher until the top of her thigh met the rigid length hidden in his shorts. She rubbed him slowly, watching his expression change from one of amusement to arousal.

“You're so hard.” Y/N said.

Trevor groaned and closed his eyes. Her mouth pressed to his throat and she felt his pulse flutter against her lips. She left a trail of kisses behind as she moved to his strong jawline. She kissed him there and continued on until her mouth hovered over his, their warm breaths intermingling. The taste of him, the feel of him, she couldn't hold back now she'd had a sample.

“I want you inside me, Trevor."

"Y/N." He clasped her face in his hands, resting his forehead against hers. "I want you so much I can't fucking breathe.”

A bolt of heat shot straight through her. She gasped as a feeling of wildness tore through her. "You can't expect me to leave you alone after that."

Y/N held onto his shoulder, slipping her other hand behind her to tug on the tie that held her bikini top in place. Once she'd loosened the bow, she pulled the soaked material over her head and tossed it behind her onto the pool ledge.

Y/N should have felt self-consciousness being half-naked in front of him, but she was too turned on to care. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her bare breasts flattening against his chest as she crushed her mouth to his. Trevor didn't put up a fight. He held her tightly and kissed her back, his lips warm and wet, his fingers clutching her to him. She moaned at his touch, caught up in the sensations charging through her.

Trevor’s tongue probed gently at first, becoming bolder with each passing second. She clenched her thighs around him and immersed herself in his strength, his heat. His hands lowered to her ass, gripping her ass to support her weight.

They continued exploring each other's mouths for long, luxurious moments until Trevor finally dipped his hand beneath her and worked his thumb inside the elastic leg of her bikini bottoms. Y/N held her breath, her heart racing with anticipation. His thumb found her clit and she gasped at the contact. He smiled against her mouth, rubbing her in firm circles while he kept up his deep, lazy kisses.

Y/N shuddered as desire built inside her. She always got so worked up around him that it wouldn't take long to push her over the edge. She clasped his shoulders and held on as he massaged her clit. His free hand moved to the tie on her bikini bottoms. She took the hint and helped out by loosening the one on the other side. He whipped the material from her and droplets of water rained down on them as he flung it over her shoulder.

Y/N pulled her mouth from his and took a couple of panting breaths. She gave him a quick once over, her stomach dipping at the intensity in his expression. Trevor sank his fingers inside her, delving deep and drawing back again while he worked her clit with his thumb.

"Oh, God.” Y/N’s teeth bit into her lower lip. The pleasure from his touch left her breathless.

His mouth lifted on one side, his gaze warm and intimate as it roamed over her. Her hips jerked to meet the thrust of his fingers, her breasts mashed against his chest. Desire rose inside her until she couldn't take any more. Then, it all came to a stop.

Y/N cried out in protest and made a grab for him. Trevor chuckled as he planted a kiss on her mouth and gripped her hips. He walked further down the pool with her until the water just reached his waist, then lifted her onto the side and left her sitting there. She would have felt rejected if it hadn't been for the way he looked at her.

Trevor worked on the button at the waistband of his shorts, curving his other hand around the back of her neck and pulling her to him for a long kiss. His tongue swept over hers, his lips caressing and arousing.

When he'd pushed her to the point that she wanted to beg for more, Trevor broke the connection and whispered against her mouth, “Finish yourself off for me, beautiful.”

Her stomach quivered at the thought. She'd pleasured herself before but never with an audience. Y/N glanced down at her body, taking in her hardened nipples, the goosebumps dotting her skin, the way her stomach tightened with each harsh breath that left her. Her legs were slightly parted, her calves dangling in the water, and Trevor stood there drinking in the sight as if he never wanted to look away.

"I haven't done this before.” Y/N said. "I mean... not in front of anyone." She wanted to do it though, just for him. She sent him an imploring look as she parted her knees. "If you laugh..." Any indication that he found her efforts amusing would have her clamping her legs shut again.

"Y/N, the last thing I want to do is laugh." Trevor pushed his shorts down and stepped out of them.

Unfortunately, Y/N couldn't get a clear view of what they revealed because his lower half was still mostly hidden by the water. He threw his shorts onto the deck where they landed with a wet slop. She gave him a small smile, taking comfort in the fact they were both naked now.

Trevor rested his palms on her knees and urged them further apart. He leaned in to press his lips to hers, kissing her in such a slow, sensual way that she moaned deep in her throat. Her fingers slipped between her thighs and began teasing her pussy.

The first caress made her sigh; the second caused her to moan. Trevor touched the back of her hand and let out a deep breath through his nose. His palm slid up her thigh, traveling further over damp skin until he cupped her breast.

Y/N tilted her hips, rubbing her clit in a circular motion with her wet fingers. Trevor’s tongue thrust against hers as his thumb worked her nipple into a tight, aching nub. A whimper left her. She clutched the back of his neck with her free hand, holding his mouth to hers. She wanted to stay in the moment with him, to make the most of every second, but she couldn't stop herself from wanting more.

Her desire grew at the thought of him sinking inside her. The pace of her massaging motions increased. Trevor ended the kiss and rested his mouth beside hers, drawing in air as she pushed herself closer to that peak.

"Does it feel good rubbing your pussy while I watch?" He asked.

Y/N heard the husky tone in his voice, and the way desire had deepened the sound. She nodded quickly, giving his cheek a breathless kiss. She kept up the smooth movements of her fingers, rubbing, teasing, getting closer and closer until...

"Fuck, Trevor." Her thighs clenched around his hips. Panting breaths left her. A feeling of intense pleasure tingled beneath her fingers and flooded her body with warmth. She let out a hoarse cry that left her shaking, weak.

Trevor groaned and clasped her face in his palms, kissing her hard. His tongue slid over hers, his mouth firm and demanding. She should have felt more settled now she'd already came, but it just made her need him even more.

Y/N gave Trevor a quick kiss and pulled back, trying to catch her breath. Her attention dropped to the water, settling on the shadow barely hidden beneath the rippled surface. She wanted him laid out before her so she could touch him and see him properly. She knew the best way to make that happen; she just hoped her trembling legs would hold up.

"I bet your cock's just aching for some action now, isn't it?”

His gaze lowered to her bare breasts then returned to meet her eyes. "Pretty much. What are you going to do about it?"

Y/N let out a deep breath. "Catch me and find out." She pushed off the edge of the pool, drew her feet under her and sprinted naked through the backyard.

Y/N heard his laugh behind her and sent a fleeting look over her shoulder. Trevor vaulted from the pool in one fluid movement, the view of his impressive body making her suck in her breath. She turned her head to watch where she was going, barely able to believe that in another moment or two that man was going to be all hers.

Trevor caught her in a few strides, hooking his arm around her waist and lifting her from her feet. He swung her in a wide circle then dropped to the lush grass with her. He shifted his body to break her fall and she landed on top of him, laughing breathlessly.

The scent of roses surrounded them, the warmth of the sun heating their skin. Droplets of water clung to Trevor’s hair and a smile hovered at his mouth. While the mood was still light between them she straddled his waist and flattened her palm on his chest. Before he could figure out what she was up to, Y/N used her other hand to grab his cock and guide him into her.

"Jesus, Y/N.” Trevor tipped his head back and gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh.

Y/N sank down on him fully, watching desire cloud his features as his rigid length disappeared inside her. She sighed at the feeling of fullness, settling on top of him with her thighs cradling his body. She rested her palms on his chest and rocked back and forth on his cock, riding him slowly.

Blades of grass tickled her knees and the breeze caressed her bare breasts. She noticed the muscles in his stomach tighten as he lifted his ass to give a couple of slow thrusts. The sensation was almost too much.

“Having you inside me..." Y/N moistened her lower lip. "God, I've wanted you for so long."

Trevor dragged her against him, pressing his lips to her throat. His arms came around her as he pulled back and sank inside her again. Her breasts flattened against his chest, the warmth of his skin comforting her even as his touch and his plunging cock excited her senses.

Y/N turned her head, kissing his jaw then covering his mouth with her own. She couldn't hold back anymore. She thrust her tongue between his lips as he drove his cock inside her. Her hands sank into his hair. She shoved her hips back to meet each glide of his shaft, needing to deepen the connection, to take in as much of him as she could.

She pulled her mouth from his and pleaded, "Harder. Fuck me harder."

Trevor made a growling sound and kissed her again, the pressure of his fingers on her upper thighs increasing. His hips lifted in quick, shallow thrusts that had her breasts jolting against his chest. She was still so sensitive from the attention she'd given her pussy. Each plunge of his cock only intensified the lingering sensations.

Y/N wanted more. She gripped his hair and pressed her mouth to his, pushing her hips down hard against his thrusts. She imagined all the things she could do to him now their feelings were out in the open; she pictured him pressing her against the wall in her shower, bending her over the couch, taking her on the kitchen bench.

A long moan slipped from her and she begged him again. "Harder.”

"God, you're fucking demanding." She heard the humor in his voice as he pulled out of her and urged her off him.

Y/N’s eyes widened. "Don't stop.”

Trevor flipped her onto her stomach, using his hand on the back of her neck to press her into the grass. "Stop talking and open your legs."

A surge of need took over and she did just that, beaming inside at his gruff tone. Her thighs parted and Trevor wedged himself in between them. She closed her eyes, biting her lip as he eased his cock inside her. He filled her completely in one smooth thrust, then drew back and drove into her again.

Y/N cried out, trying to push her ass up but he held her firm. One hand kept her in place at the base of her neck while the other flattened against her spine. She worked her hand beneath her body and touched him, feeling the slick glide of his rigid flesh each time he withdrew and plunged into her, again and again.

Y/N used her wet fingertips to massage her clit, her movements restricted now he had her under him. She pressed and rubbed, gasping for breath as his thrusts grew more intense. The sounds he made just pushed her closer to losing it.

Trevor braced his hands either side of her head and rested his chest against her back. She felt him lean in to kiss the water-slicked skin behind her ear. "You like that, baby?"

Y/N moaned and her hips writhed beneath him. A breathless yes came from her open mouth. Her fingers moved with increasing speed over her slippery clit. She clenched her thighs around him, trying to pull him even closer.

Trevor groaned and kept pumping away inside her. "Are you gonna cum nice and hard all over my cock?"

A feeling of urgency claimed her. "Yes. God, Trevor. Fuck me." She wouldn't last much longer.

Trevor pressed his lips to her throat and slammed inside her. His roughened jaw abraded her skin. His warm breath slid over her. The tensing of his stomach against her lower back told her he was close.

Y/N rubbed faster, her fingers shifting from side to side. Her gasps came in time with his thrusts. He strained against her ass, shoving his cock inside her. He shuddered and pumped hard a couple more times before finally coming with a loud groan. The knowledge that he'd filled her with cum sent her tumbling over the edge with him, releasing a sobbing moan as her orgasm streaked through her.

They both took a moment to catch their breath, then Trevor pulled away and rolled her onto her back. He leaned over her, bending his head to tease her lips with his mouth.

"God, you make sexy sounds.” He said. His eyes filled with tenderness as he looked down at her.

They shared a few seconds of silence, but the longer it dragged on the more she thought about everything else she wanted to do him and it made her grin.

"What are you smiling about?" Trevor asked.

"You." Y/N linked her fingers at the back of his neck and urged him closer for another long, searching kiss. She pulled back and rubbed her lips together. "What do we do now?" She asked.

"I guess you go home and in the morning, I'll let your brothers know how we feel about each other. If I survive, I'll come see you so we can celebrate."

Y/N laughed, knowing it wouldn't be anywhere near as serious as he imagined. "I think you can take them all in a sprint.” She said. “But while you're running, don't forget to duck and weave."

Trevor let out a low chuckle. "Wow. Thanks for the advice."

"You're welcome. When you're done talking, how do you plan on celebrating with me?"

Trevor trailed his fingertips down her throat, caressing her collarbone before he dipped further to cup her breast. "It's probably best if I just show you.” He said.

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras x you #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras one shot #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras fluff #trevor zegras smut #trevor zegras fanfic #trevor zegras x hughes!reader #hughes!reader #anaheim ducks #trevor zegras drabble

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foreingersgod · 11 days

Note

If you can could you do a Caitlin Clark x reader with angst? Thank youuu

votes are in! we’re going with angst to fluff for this one!

Regrets . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: caitlin says something to you during an argument that she immediately regrets

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

caitlin was a phenomenal athlete. she was good at what she did, blowing everyone away and breaking records, all while doing well in school and balancing the other parts of her life. you absolutely admired her for it, amazed by how perfect a person could be. she was so good to you, as her girlfriend, giving you equal support and love.

you on the other hand, were never an athlete, your dream was to pursue writing or journalism. you loved to write more than anything in the world and you knew from a very young age that that was what you wanted to do for the rest of your life. you often wrote small stories in your free time or touched up on trending articles, trying to write as much as you could. throughout your college years, you’ve been interning and taking classes to get you into a good position for your career.

you’ll admit, it was a very competitive career to go into, but you were determined to succeed. caitlin was always at your side, too, rooting for you every step of the way.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

it was a tuesday night, you were at home cleaning and fixing up dinner. caitlin was still out, something about a meeting with a few scouts. she didn’t say much about and said that she’d tell you all about it when she got home.

so you waited patiently, finishing up dinner and waiting for cait to get home. you pulled out your laptop while you awaited her arrival, beginning to work on an important paper you were writing for your journalism course. as you typed away at the keyboard, you felt your phone vibrate. you pulled out your phone, curious to see who was texting you.

cait <3: really big news when i get home, can’t wait to tell you

your heart started to beat a little faster, eager to hear what it was. you knew how hard she had been working to get the attention of some of these scouts so you hoped it was finally paying off for her.

as you were finishing up a paragraph for your article, you heard the lock of the front door jostling, hinges creaking as it opened. your eyes darted to the door right away, watching as caitlin walked in, positively glowing. she hung up her jacket and took off her shoes all with a huge smile on her face. you found yourself smiling too, her happiness contagious.

“hey, babe” you swooned “how was the meeting? big news?”

she came over to you, standing behind the counter opposite of you chair. “YN, it was life changing! you’re never gonna believe it, it’s like a dream come true”

her eyes were wide with excitement, still shaking from receiving the news. she had you anxious as you waited for her to spill. you closed your laptop half way to give her full attention, pushing it aside.

“what?” you questioned “the anticipation is killing me!”

“well,” she took a breathy pause for dramatic effect “a few of the scouts that i was talking to approached me after the meeting. they were telling me about how they’re recruiting for the women’s olympic basketball team…and long story short, they want me on the team! baby im playing in the olympics!”

“holy shit, you’re kidding!” you leaped out of your seat, rushing around the counter to congratulate her “that’s amazing, oh my god, i’m so proud of you!”

you hugged her tightly, smoothing your hands across her back.

“thank you, i’m freaking out still, it’s so surreal” she felt like crying “we’re going paris, YN!”

she was still on cloud nine, starting to text friends and family to share the good news, but you had stepped back thinking you heard her wrong. you? the both of you? paris? while you were aware that the events would be an international occasion, you hadn’t realized it would be that far away. you had just assumed you would do a bit of long distance for the time being, caitlin going to play and you staying here to take care of things and focus on journalism. noticing you had pulled away, caitlin sent her last text and turned back to you.

“hey are you ok?” she asked “went all quiet on me”

“hm? oh yea i just,” you started picking at your nails, nervous to bring up the conversation “it’s just that you said ‘we’?”

her infectious laugh rang through your living room “of course, you’re my girl, i want you there with me”

“cait, you know i’d love to be there for you in person and come with but…but i can’t just go babe” you said, apologetically.

your entire soul shattered seeing the look on her face as you broke the news. she looked defeated, trying to laugh it off as a weird joke “what do you mean you can’t go?”

“don’t get upset” you said, sensing the tension growing “but a trip like that is expensive, and there’s things that i need to take care of, especially if you’re going to be gone…and i’m just in the middle of a really important part of my path in writing…i need to be able to focus on that right now. but we can do it, you know? we’d only be doing the long distance thing for a little bit!”

“are you serious?” she tried to keep her voice calm, instead raising it slightly “this is a huge deal for me and you don’t even want to be there with me?”

“that’s not true! i would do anything to go, but like i said, that’s an insanely expensive trip and i’m in the middle of trying to pursue this journalism thing so i-”

“you’re not going so you can write your silly papers?” she ridiculed “fine, it’s expensive, we can work around that, but you’re seriously telling me you’re not doing this so you can write?”

you were dumbfounded, her calling your passion just some ‘silly papers’ made you sick. you’ve been pushing yourself to every possible limit to work towards this, and you thought she was supportive of that, i guess this was bringing out her true colors.

“silly papers? caitlin, pursuing journalism is my dream, you know that” your nose scrunching in frustration “i’ve always been supportive of your dream, i’m constantly putting my own things aside so you can continue to do this”

“yea well that’s because i’m actually good at what i do” she snapped. her voice was laced with spite, gaze shooting daggers into yours. “i’ve got a real job, with real responsibilities, YN”

your body was frozen, feet glued to the ground, limbs unable to move. the way she was talking to you hurt, any support that you thought she had for you was gone out the window. you wanted to scream, storm out of the house and slam the door.

“that’s really what you think, hm?” you sneered “that i don’t have a real job? that i’m not good at the one thing i’m passionate about? jesus fucking christ caitlin.”

somewhere in your body, you found the courage to move. without letting her get another word in, you grabbed your laptop and stormed up the stairs into your shared bedroom. she could sleep on the couch tonight.

the second you made it up the stairs, you slammed the door and collapsed onto your bed. you were seething with rage. for her to stand in front of you, after you’ve put your heart and soul into helping caitlin succeed, was like a punch to the gut. she knew how hard you had been working to make this happen, how many classes and workshops, how many late nights and meetings with publishers. she knew about it all and she still had the audacity to say such a nasty thing.

you pulled the comforter up over your shoulders, hiding below it, and sobbed in your pillow. you didn’t even bother trying to finish your article tonight, your headache too painful from the tears. about an hour went by, you had assumed, the sun going down outside your bedroom window. not once did you hear anything from caitlin so you thought she had left to blow off steam or made herself comfortable on the couch.

then there was a knock at your bedroom door. she didn’t have to knock, in reality, it was her room too. you didn’t answer at the raps at the door, nor when she called out your name. you didn’t have anything to say.

“YN, can we talk?” her voice muffled from behind the wooden barrier “i shouldn’t have said those things, i didn’t mean it”

you stood up, opening the door for her and resuming your position on the bed, pulling up the covers once more. she followed suit and sat down at the foot of the bed next to you. still silent, you waited for her to continue.

“what i said was uncalled for” her voice cutting through deafening silence “none of it was true”

“so why’d you say it?” she could tell you had been crying right away, hearing the stuffiness in your nose. it made her stomach turn knowing she was the reason why.

“i was mad. the second i got the news, all i could think about was taking you with me. i had the whole thing planned out. but i didn’t even consider what it would mean for you, to drop everything and go to paris with me. and that was incredibly unfair of me to assume.”

you remained silent, listening to her confession.

“baby, i don’t think your papers are silly and i don’t think it’s not a real job” her hands found the way to your legs under the blanket, rubbing at them tenderly to try and comfort you “i’m so amazed by how talented you are. you’ve put in so much effort into making a name for yourself and i admire you for that, i know you’re going to do amazing things. what i said was cruel and purely out of spite and it won’t ever happen again, i’m so sorry”

you sniffled, wiping the rest of your tears as you sat up against the headboard. she had looked horrible when you looked at her. hair messy from running her hands through it, face pale and flushed, it didn’t take much to realize how bad she felt for lashing out at you.

“i know you’re mad, and i’m upset that i can’t go either,” you spoke up “but if you’re going to make a habit out of saying things like that to me, i don’t know if-”

“i swear to god i’m not! that was a shitty slip up, but please, i’m being honest when i say that i’ll never do that again. i have never once believed that what i said was true, im so so sorry” she pleaded, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of your palm.

“i forgive you, but it’s going to take a lot for you to make it up to me”

“anything, i’ll do anything” she said “i can’t live with myself knowing that i made you upset. whatever it takes to gain your trust back, i’ll fucking do it”

you let out a small chuckle, knowing the real cait was already shining through. the caitlin that would go to the ends of the earth for you. her hand was still gripping yours, drawing small shapes around your knuckles and kissing them reassuringly. you tugged her towards you making her fall into the sheets beside you. you reached out, caressing her long strands of hair, silently admiring her.

the two of you remained there in bed without saying anything. the sun lingered in its final hour in the sky as you both soaked in each other’s presence.

you couldn’t stay mad at her for long.

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #wcbb #wcbb x reader #iowa wbb

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pin-k-ink · 12 hours

Text

friction // gojo satoru

tw ⇢ teacher-student relationship, pet names cx i refuse to use y/n any more than necessary, mutual pining, implied age gap, gojo being a fucking tease, mentioned violence and injuries, sexual tension, unprotected sex, fingering, praise kink, dirty talking

wc ⇢ 10.4k

a/n: meh

If looks could kill, Gojo would be dead and buried 6 feet under right now. You glared at him from across the training hall, your eyes narrowed and your jaw clenched tight. The audacity of this man never ceased to amaze you. Just moments ago, he had casually commented on how your technique needed work, followed by a wink and a smirk that made your blood boil.

It wasn't that you didn't appreciate his guidance. Far from it, actually. Gojo was an incredible teacher, with a wealth of knowledge and experience that you could only dream of. His insights and advice had helped you grow tremendously as a jujutsu sorcerer. But sometimes, his teasing remarks and playful attitude made it hard for you to not wish he was dead.

Gojo, for his part, seemed utterly unfazed by your glare. He stood at the other end of the hall, hands tucked into the pockets of his baggy white pants, his signature smile playing on his lips. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a soft glow on his silver hair, making it look even more ethereal than usual.

"What's the matter, beautiful?" he called out, his voice echoing off the high ceilings. "Don't tell me you're giving up already?"

You gritted your teeth, your hands curling into fists at your sides. The nickname, as always, sent a flurry of butterflies through your stomach, but you refused to let it show. You couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing the effect he had on you.

"Not a chance," you retorted, shifting into a fighting stance. Your feet were shoulder-width apart, your knees slightly bent, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. "I'll show you just how much my technique has improved."

Gojo's grin widened, his pearly white teeth gleaming in the light. He beckoned you forward with a lazy wave of his hand, as if he couldn't be bothered to take you seriously. "Then by all means," he said, his tone dripping with amusement. "Come at me with everything you've got."

You didn't need to be told twice. With a burst of speed, you lunged forward, your cursed energy crackling around you like a storm. It was a sensation you had grown accustomed to over the years - the tingling in your fingertips, the rush of power surging through your veins. You channeled that energy into your fists as you threw punch after punch, kick after kick, each one infused with all the frustration and determination that had been building up inside you.

But Gojo was too fast, too skilled. He dodged and weaved around your attacks like they were nothing, his movements fluid and graceful. It was like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. Every now and then, he would reach out and tap you on the shoulder or the hip, a light touch that sent shivers down your spine and made you lose your focus.

You gritted your teeth, pushing yourself harder. Sweat beaded on your forehead and trickled down the back of your neck, but you barely noticed. All you could focus on was the man in front of you, the infuriating smile on his face, the way he made everything look so effortless.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally stumbled back, your chest heaving and your face flushed with exertion. Your muscles burned with fatigue, and your lungs felt like they were on fire. Gojo, on the other hand, looked as calm and collected as ever, not a hair out of place.

"Not bad," he said, his tone teasing. He walked towards you, his footsteps echoing in the empty hall. "But you're still relying too much on brute force. You need to learn to control your cursed energy, to use it with precision and finesse."

You let out a frustrated huff, blowing a strand of hair out of your face. It was a criticism you had heard before, and one that never failed to get under your skin. "I know," you muttered, looking away. "I'm trying."

Gojo's expression softened, and he took another step towards you. He was close now, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. "Hey," he said, his voice gentle. "I know you are. And you're making progress, even if it doesn't always feel like it."

He reached out and tucked the loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek for just a moment too long. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest as his fingers moved a bit lower, gently tilting your head up towards him. His touch was electric, sending sparks of sensation across your skin.

"Keep practicing," Gojo murmured, his eyes locked on yours. Even through the blindfold, you could feel the intensity of his gaze. "And don't be afraid to ask for help when you need it. I'm always here for you, pretty."

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. The nickname, combined with the low timbre of his voice and the way his fingers curled around your jaw, made your knees feel weak. It was a feeling you had grown all too familiar with over the months you had spent training with Gojo - a heady mix of attraction and frustration, desire and irritation.

With a final, lingering touch, Gojo pulled away, his hand dropping back to his side. He turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with your mind reeling and your skin tingling from his touch. You watched him go, your lips parted and your heart racing.

It was moments like these that made you question everything you thought you knew about your relationship with Gojo. He was your teacher, your mentor, the person who pushed you to be better every single day. But he was also something more, something that made your pulse quicken and your palms sweat.

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. You couldn't afford to get distracted, not now. There was too much at stake, too much you still had to learn. With a sigh, you turned back to the training dummy in the corner of the room, ready to start again.

Days turned into weeks, and you threw yourself into your training with a renewed sense of purpose. You spent long hours in the training hall, perfecting your techniques and honing your skills. When you weren't training, you were out on missions, putting your abilities to the test in the real world.

It was during one of these missions that things took a turn for the worse. You had been tasked with taking down a particularly nasty curse, one that had been terrorizing a small village on the outskirts of Tokyo. It should have been a routine mission, something you had done a hundred times before.

But you had underestimated the curse's strength, and it had caught you off guard. One moment you were on the offensive, your cursed energy pulsing through your veins. The next, you were on the ground, your body battered and bruised, your vision swimming with pain.

You don't remember much of what happened next. There were flashes of light, the sound of shouting, the feeling of strong arms lifting you up and carrying you away. When you finally came to, you were back at the school, lying in a bed in the infirmary.

Gojo was there, sitting by your bedside. He looked haggard, his hair disheveled and his clothes rumpled. When he saw that you were awake, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

"You gave us quite a scare there, beautiful," he said, his voice hoarse. "What were you thinking, taking on that curse alone?"

You winced, both at the nickname and the accusation in his tone. "I didn't have a choice," you said, your voice weak. "It was going to hurt those people. I had to do something."

Gojo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know," he said, his voice softening. "But you can't keep putting yourself in danger like that. You're not invincible, you know."

You couldn't help but smile at that. "Look who's talking," you teased, your voice still weak but with a hint of your usual snark. "Mr. 'Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer' himself."

Gojo chuckled, shaking his head. "Fair enough," he said, leaning back in his chair. "But I mean it, you know. You need to be more careful out there."

You nodded, your gaze dropping to your hands. They were bandaged, the white gauze stark against your skin. "I know," you said softly. "I'm sorry for worrying you."

Gojo reached out, his hand covering yours. The warmth of his touch seeped into your skin, chasing away the chill that seemed to have settled into your bones. "Just promise me you'll be more careful from now on," he said, his voice low and intense. "I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you looked up, your eyes meeting his. There was something in his gaze, something that made your breath catch in your throat. It was a look you had seen before, in stolen moments and lingering glances. But this time, there was no mistaking the emotion behind it.

Before you could say anything, a knock at the door startled you both. Gojo pulled his hand away, and you felt the loss of his touch like a physical ache. He stood up, clearing his throat.

"I should let you get some rest," he said, his voice back to its usual nonchalant tone. "I'll check on you later, okay?"

You nodded, watching as he walked towards the door. Just before he left, he turned back, his gaze locking with yours one last time.

"Remember what I said, pretty," he said, his voice soft but firm. "Be careful out there. I need you to come back to me in one piece."

With that, he was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the memory of his touch. You leaned back against the pillows, your eyes drifting shut. Despite the pain and the exhaustion, you couldn't help but smile.

Because even though things were complicated, even though there were a million reasons why you shouldn't feel the way you did, you knew one thing for certain. Gojo cared about you, more than just as a student or a colleague. And that knowledge, warm and bright and shining, was enough to chase away the darkness, at least for a little while.

It was a few days before you were cleared to leave the infirmary, your wounds healing slowly but steadily. Gojo had been a constant presence during your recovery, stopping by to check on you whenever he had a spare moment. He would bring you books and snacks, regaling you with stories of his own misadventures as a young sorcerer.

But as much as you enjoyed his company, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between you. There was a new tension in the air, a crackling energy that made your skin prickle whenever he was near. You found yourself watching him more closely, taking in the way his muscles moved beneath his clothes, the way his lips curved when he smiled.

It was maddening, this newfound awareness of him. You tried to push it down, to focus on your recovery and your training. But it was always there, simmering just beneath the surface.

Which is why, when Gojo barged into your room one morning, you nearly jumped out of your skin. You had been in the middle of getting dressed, your sleep shirt halfway over your head when the door slammed open.

"Rise and shine, beautiful!" Gojo called out, his voice far too cheerful for the early hour. "Time to get back to training!"

You yelped, yanking your shirt down and whirling around to face him. "Gojo!" you shouted, your face flushed with embarrassment and anger. "What the hell? Can't you knock like a normal person?"

But Gojo just grinned, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. "Where's the fun in that?" he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Besides, it's not like I haven't seen it all before."

Your jaw dropped, and you sputtered indignantly. "What are you talking about? You haven't seen anything!"

Gojo just shrugged, pushing off the doorframe and sauntering into your room. "If you say so," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. "But I seem to recall a certain someone forgetting to wear a bra to training last week."

You felt your face heat up even more, and you crossed your arms over your chest self-consciously. "That was an accident!" you protested, your voice coming out higher than you intended. "I was in a hurry and I forgot!"

Gojo chuckled, shaking his head. "Sure, sure," he said, his tone making it clear that he didn't believe you for a second. "Whatever you say, pretty."

You glared at him, your eyes narrowed. "Don't call me that," you snapped, your voice tight with anger. "I have a name, you know."

Gojo's grin only widened, and he took a step closer to you. "I know," he said, his voice low and intimate. "But I like calling you pretty. It suits you."

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. He was so close now, close enough that you could feel the heat of his body, the brush of his breath against your skin. Your gaze flicked down to his lips, and you felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to close the distance between you, to taste him and feel him and-

Suddenly, Gojo's hands were on your shoulders, and you were being spun around. You yelped in surprise as he pushed you towards the door, his grip firm but gentle.

"As much as I'd love to continue this conversation," he said, his voice strained and a little breathless, "we have work to do. Meet me in the library in ten minutes. And don't be late, or else there will be consequences."

With that, he was gone, leaving you standing in the middle of your room with your heart racing and your skin tingling. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. It was going to be a long day, you could already tell.

Ten minutes later, you walked into the library, your footsteps echoing on the polished wood floor. Gojo was already there, seated at one of the long tables with a stack of books and papers in front of him. He looked up as you approached, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"There you are," he said, his voice warm and teasing. "I was starting to think you weren't coming."

You rolled your eyes, dropping into the seat across from him. "I'm not that late," you grumbled, pulling one of the books towards you. "What are we working on today?"

Gojo pushed a sheet of paper towards you, his fingers brushing against yours as he did so. "Your essay on cursed techniques," he said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "I've made some notes on areas that need improvement."

You nodded, your eyes scanning the page. Gojo's handwriting was neat and precise, his comments and suggestions written in the margins. You felt a swell of pride as you read through them, noting the things you had done well and the things you needed to work on.

For the next few hours, you worked in companionable silence, the only sound the scratching of pens on paper and the turning of pages. Every now and then, Gojo would lean over to point out something in one of the books, his shoulder brushing against yours as he did so. Each time, you felt a jolt of electricity run through you, a shiver of something that had nothing to do with the chill of the library.

As the hours ticked by, you felt your eyelids growing heavy, your head nodding forward. You had been up late the night before, studying for an upcoming exam, and the lack of sleep was catching up with you. You tried to focus on the words in front of you, but they seemed to swim and blur on the page.

Suddenly, you felt gentle fingers curl around the back of your neck, and you blinked your eyes open. Gojo was leaning over you, his face soft with concern. "Hey," he said, his voice low and soothing. "Why don't you take a break? You look exhausted."

You shook your head, sitting up straighter in your chair. "I'm fine," you said, your voice thick with sleep. "I need to finish this chapter."

But Gojo just shook his head, his hand still on your nape, his thumb absently rubbing your skin. "It can wait," he said firmly. "You need to rest. Here, why don't you put your head down for a bit? I'll wake you up in a little while."

You wanted to protest, to insist that you were fine. But the warmth of his hand on your skin, the gentle pressure of his fingers, was too much to resist. With a sigh, you nodded, lowering your head onto your folded arms.

As your eyes drifted shut, you felt Gojo's hand move from your neck to your hair, his fingers carding through the strands. It was a soothing motion, gentle and rhythmic, and you felt yourself sinking deeper into sleep with each passing moment.

As Gojo watched you sleep, he felt a profound sense of peace wash over him. It was a rare thing for him, to feel so content, so at ease. But something about your presence, the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the soft curve of your lips, made all the troubles of the world seem to fade away.

Unable to help himself, he reached out, his fingertips ghosting over the delicate skin of your face. He traced the slope of your nose, marveling at the smoothness, the perfect symmetry. His touch was feather-light, a whisper of sensation, but even so, he felt a thrill run through him at the contact.

His fingers drifted lower, skimming over the soft swell of your cheeks, the strong line of your jaw. And then, almost of their own accord, they came to rest on your lips.

Gojo's breath caught in his throat as he felt the plush fullness of your mouth beneath his fingertips. Your lips were slightly parted, soft and inviting, and he felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to lean down and capture them with his own.

He imagined how it would feel, to press his lips against yours, to taste the sweetness of your breath. He wondered if you would sigh into the kiss, if you would reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him closer.

The thought sent a shiver down his spine, a heat pooling in his belly. He had kissed countless people before, had experienced pleasure in all its myriad forms. But somehow, he knew that kissing you would be different. It would be a revelation, a moment of perfect clarity in a world that so often seemed shrouded in shadow.

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, a ghost of a touch, and he heard you sigh softly in your sleep. The sound was like a siren's call, tempting him, beckoning him closer.

But even as the desire surged through him, hot and insistent, Gojo knew he couldn't act on it. Not now, not like this. You were his student, entrusted to his care, and to take advantage of that trust would be a betrayal of the highest order.

And so, with a herculean effort, he pulled his hand away, clenching it into a fist at his side. He took a deep breath, then another, trying to calm the pounding of his heart, the rush of his blood in his veins.

Minutes ticked by, then hours, and still Gojo sat by your side, his hand resting gently on your back. He knew he should wake you, send you back to your room to rest properly, but he couldn't bring himself to disturb your slumber.

Finally, as the sun began to set outside the library windows, Gojo knew he couldn't let you sleep any longer. Carefully, he gathered you into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he stood.

You stirred slightly, your eyes fluttering open. "Sensei?" you murmured, your voice thick with sleep. "What's happening?"

"Shh," he soothed, his voice low and gentle. "It's alright. You fell asleep while we were studying. I'm just taking you back to your room so you can rest."

You hummed softly, your eyes drifting shut again as you nestled closer to his warmth. Gojo felt his heart skip a beat at the trust in that simple gesture, the way you curled into him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He carried you through the quiet halls of the school, his footsteps echoing softly on the polished floors. A few students passed by, their eyes widening at the sight of their teacher carrying a sleeping student, but Gojo paid them no mind. All that mattered was getting you to your room, making sure you were safe and comfortable.

When he reached your door, he shifted you slightly in his arms, freeing one hand to turn the knob. The room was dark and quiet, the only sound the soft whisper of your breath against his neck.

Gently, Gojo laid you down on your bed, pulling the covers up over your shoulders. You sighed softly, your face turning into the pillow, and he felt a rush of affection so strong it nearly took his breath away.

For a long moment, he simply stood there, watching you sleep. He knew he should leave, knew that staying any longer would be inappropriate. But he couldn't seem to tear himself away, couldn't stop himself from reaching out to brush one last strand of hair from your face.

"Sweet dreams, pretty," he whispered, his voice so low he wasn't sure you would hear it. "I'll see you in the morning."

With that, he turned and slipped out of your room, closing the door softly behind him. His heart was racing in his chest, his mind whirling with thoughts and feelings he couldn't quite name.

But one thing was clear, as clear as the memory of your warmth in his arms, the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips. He was falling for you, hard and fast and irrevocably. And though he knew it was wrong, knew that he shouldn't feel the way he did, he couldn't seem to stop himself.

All he could do was hope that somehow, someday, you might feel the same way too.

The next day, you found yourself back in the training hall with Gojo, your heart still fluttering madly at the memory of his gentle touch as he carried you to bed. You tried to push those dangerously tempting thoughts aside and focus on honing your cursed techniques - but Gojo, it seemed, had other ideas.

From the moment you stepped into the hall, he was on you, teasing and taunting, pushing your buttons in all the ways he knew so well. He corrected your stances with lingering touches, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned in close to adjust your posture.

"Come on, beautiful," he purred, voice low and intimate. "You can do better than that. Show me what you're really made of."

You gritted your teeth, frustration mounting with each passing moment. It was hard enough to concentrate with him invading your space, his presence an electric current setting your nerve-endings alight. But as he kept goading you, pushing and pushing until you felt like screaming, something inside you finally snapped.

With a growl of unadulterated rage, you lunged at him, hands outstretched to grab him by his shirt. Gojo's eyes widened in surprise but he didn't dodge, letting you tackle him to the mats, your body pinning his down.

For a charged moment, you could only stare at each other, chests heaving. You were suddenly hyperaware of every point of contact - the press of his strong thighs between yours, the firmness of his abdomen, the intoxicating heat radiating off him. His muscles flexed as he shifted slightly but made no move to throw you off.

He breathed your name like a prayer on his lips. "What are you doing...?"

Blinking, you came back to yourself, a hot flush creeping up your neck as you realized the position you were in. Straddling your teacher, hands fisted in his clothes, faces inches apart... Mortified, you tried to scramble off him, only for his hands to tighten around your hips, keeping you on top of him.

"I-I'm so sorry," you stammered, refusing to meet his eyes. "I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have let my emotions get the best of me like that."

But Gojo just sat up slowly, gently letting you slide down his stomach and onto his lap as he waved off your apology. "It's alright. I pushed you too hard. I know how much your training means to you."

Glancing up, you found him watching you with a soft, almost vulnerable expression that made your heart clench painfully. He reached out, hand cupping your cheek and tilting your face up to his blindfolded one.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You're doing your best and that's all anyone can ask. I'm proud of you."

Hearing those words in his deep baritone, you felt emotion welling up, threatening to spill over. Throat tight, you managed a weak smile, leaning into his touch briefly before sliding out of his lap.

"Thank you, Sensei. I think I'm done for today though. I need some time to clear my head and refocus."

His hand fell away reluctantly but he nodded in understanding, rising fluidly to his feet and offering you a hand up. You allowed him to pull you up, hyperaware of the way his long fingers wrapped around yours, the rough calluses from years of fighting scraping pleasantly along your skin.

"Of course. Take all the time you need. And remember, I'm here if you ever want to talk. Or not talk." He shot you a playful wink.

Rolling your eyes fondly, you thanked him again before beating a hasty retreat from the quickly shrinking training room. You felt his heavy gaze on your back the entire way out.

The next few days passed in a blur of intense focus. You threw yourself into your studies, determined to master new techniques and grow stronger. But no matter how hard you concentrated, Gojo lingered at the edges of your thoughts, a phantom touch ghosting along your cheek.

He remained an inescapable presence even outside of training - "accidentally" brushing against you in the halls, showing up at the library during your study sessions, barging into your room unannounced at all hours. His teasing and flirting ratcheted up to nearly unbearable levels now that he knew the depths of his effect on you.

And lord, but you wanted nothing more than to give in, to grab him by his stupid collar and kiss that infuriating smirk right off his face. However, you couldn't let your desires interfere with your duties. The world of jujutsu was dangerous and letting yourself get distracted could mean death for you or innocent civilians.

So you grit your teeth and endured his antics, ignoring the knowing gleam in his eyes and the heat pooling in your core whenever he shot you a particularly roguish grin. You had to be strong, to remember your place as his student.

Even if every fiber of your being ached to be so much more.

Matters finally came to a head one rainy afternoon during an advanced technique lesson. Soaked to the bone and exhausted from hours of practice, you found yourself pinned to the mats yet again, Gojo's knee pressing into your thigh as he loomed over you.

Blowing a damp lock of hair out of your face, you scowled up at him petulantly. "Okay, I get it. I over extended on that last kick. No need to rub it in."

But he made no move to release you, head cocked slightly as if deep in thought. There was an odd tension in his frame that hadn't been there a moment ago. "Gojo...?"

His gaze snapped back to you, unseen eyes boring into yours with startling intensity. Without warning, his free hand came up, thumb tracing along your lower lip in a slow drag that left you trembling.

Your mouth parted on a shocked gasp just as he leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear in a ghost of a touch. "You have no idea what you do to me. How badly I want to ruin you."

And then he was gone, leaving you splayed across the floor, body throbbing and mind reeling. By the time you gathered your wits enough to sit up, the training room door was already swinging shut behind his retreating back.

Staggering to your feet, you headed for the showers in a daze, thoughts a chaotic whirlwind. Did Gojo really feel the same way you did? Was he implying what you thought?

No. You shook your head, sending droplets flying. Indulging in this fantasy would only end in heartbreak. He couldn't possibly return your feelings. More likely this was another strategy to fluster and throw you off balance. Just a new twist in your increasingly dangerous game.

Still, you couldn't stop the tiny kernel of hope from taking root in your chest as you let the scalding spray beat down on you, imagining elegant fingers tangling in your hair instead.

Dangerous game indeed.

A few days later, you found yourself back in the training hall again, feeling more centered and focused than you had in a long time. You went through your usual warm-up routine, stretching your muscles and getting your blood flowing.

As you bent forward to touch your toes, you heard a low whistle of appreciation from behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw Gojo leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and a smirk playing on his lips. His gaze raked slowly up your body, taking in every curve and plane, and you felt a shiver run down your spine at the blatant desire in his eyes.

"Well, well, well," he drawled, voice rich with amusement. "Looks like someone's been hiding a secret talent. I had no idea you were so...flexible."

You straightened up, turning to face him fully. The air between you practically crackled with tension as you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down from the challenge in his tone. "There's a lot you don't know about me, sensei," you said, voice low and teasing.

Gojo pushed off the wall, stalking towards you with a predatory gleam in his eye. "Is that so?" he murmured, stopping just shy of touching you. "Well then, maybe it's time for a private lesson. Just you and me, working on your flexibility."

Your heart stuttered at the implication, desire licking through your veins like wildfire. But you forced yourself to keep a coy smile in place, unwilling to let him fluster you so easily. "I don't know, sensei," you purred. "Do you think you can handle me?"

His answering grin was positively wicked as he leaned in close, breath fanning hotly over your ear. "Oh, beautiful," he purred back, "I think the real question is, can you handle me?"

Before you could formulate a response, Gojo was guiding you into a new stretch, hands firm on your hips as he positioned you. The heat of his touch seared through the thin material of your clothes and you bit your lip harshly, fighting back a whimper.

He led you through a series of increasingly challenging poses, hands roaming your body under the guise of deepening each stretch. You arched into his touch, skin burning everywhere he made contact, desire clouding your mind until all you could focus on was the low rasp of his voice in your ear and the delicious ache building between your thighs.

At one point, he had you bent nearly in half, chest pressed to the floor with your legs splayed out in a side split. Gojo knelt behind you, hands kneading your lower back as he urged you to sink deeper. "That's it," he murmured, "Just a little further. You're doing so good for me, pretty."

The praise ran through you like a live current, sparking along every nerve and setting you ablaze. You could feel the solid heat of him at your back and had to choke back a moan, fingers curling uselessly against the mats.

Just as you thought you might actually combust from the tension, Gojo eased you up, hands gentle on your waist as he helped you stand. "I think that's enough for today," he said softly, though the roughness of his voice belied his innocent expression. "You did great. I'm proud of you."

You managed a shaky nod, not trusting yourself to speak around the lump in your throat. He was so close, radiating warmth and barely leashed power, the clean scent of him filling your lungs until you felt dizzy with it.

For a suspended moment, you both stood frozen, lost in the gravity of everything left unsaid. Your eyes traced the strong line of his jaw, the tempting curve of his lips. When his tongue darted out to wet them, your self-control nearly snapped then and there.

But Gojo stepped back before you could do something foolish, putting much-needed distance between your bodies. "I'll see you tomorrow, [Y/N]," he said, casual and cheerful once more. "Get some rest, okay? You've earned it."

With that, he turned on his heel and sauntered off, hands tucked in his pockets. You watched him go, equal parts frustrated and relieved. These stolen moments were getting harder and harder to write off as simple teasing between teacher and student.

How much longer could you keep dancing around this inferno threatening to consume you both? Sooner or later, something would have to give. You only hoped you'd survive the fallout.

Sighing, you gathered your things and headed for the showers, resolutely ignoring the persistent ache low in your stomach. Tonight would be another long one with only your fantasies for company.

The joint mission a few weeks later was grueling, both physically and emotionally. Tracking down the malevolent curse spirit took every ounce of skill and power you possessed, pushing you to your limits and then some. But in the end, you emerged victorious - if a bit worse for wear.

Stumbling into the hotel lobby, you barely registered Gojo handling the check-in process, too focused on remaining vertical. Every muscle screamed in protest and your clothes were caked in dirt, blood, and things you'd rather not think about.

It wasn't until you were standing outside the room that his words finally sank in. "I'm sorry," you said, blinking hard. "Did you say there's only one bed?"

Gojo shrugged, looking entirely too unconcerned. "Yep. Apparently they messed up the reservation. But hey, I'm sure we can make do. We're both adults, right?"

He shot you a pointed look over his shoulder as he unlocked the door, lips quirking up slightly at your gaping expression. Before you could formulate a response, he was ushering you inside the lavish suite.

You froze just over the threshold, eyes widening at the sight before you. Plush carpet, elegant furnishings, a bed big enough to fit five people - it was easily the nicest room you'd ever stepped foot in. But all you could focus on was that single, massive bed dominating the space.

Gojo, however, wasted no time making himself at home. In a few long strides, he crossed the room and flopped backward onto the sinfully soft-looking comforter, spreading his arms out with a contented sigh.

"Ah, this is more like it! Way better than those stiff dorm cots, don't you think?"

Forcing your gaze away from the distracting stretch of his body, you gave a noncommittal hum, edging further into the room. The door swung shut with an ominous click, sealing you in with the one person you simultaneously most and least wanted to be alone with.

Dragging your eyes back to Gojo, you fought down a shiver at the blatant invitation in his posture, the teasing curl of his lips. With his rumpled hair and half-lidded eyes, he looked like pure sin sprawled out on the bed, begging to be debauched.

"Well? Aren't you going to join me?" He patted the space beside him. "There's plenty of room for two."

Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest at the implication, mouth going bone dry. This was dangerous territory - you were exhausted and aching, defenses worn down to nothing. If you lay beside him now...

Scrambling for some semblance of composure, you cleared your throat and looked away, deliberately casual. "Actually, I was thinking we should probably get some sleep. Separate sleep. It's been a long day."

The pout Gojo leveled at you was downright deadly, plush bottom lip enticing you to catch it between your teeth. "Aw, c'mon beautiful! The night's still young. And we've got this big, empty room all to ourselves..." He trailed off meaningfully.

Flushing, you turned your back on him completely, rummaging through your bag for something to sleep in. "I don't know, sensei. What exactly did you have in mind?"

In a blink, strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you back into his firm chest. You gasped, nearly choking on air when his lips brushed teasingly over your ear. "Come here and I'll show you," he purred, hands settling low on your hips.

You settled down beside Gojo on the plush hotel bed, your heart fluttering nervously in your chest. The mattress dipped slightly under your combined weight as you perched on the edge, trying to maintain a respectable distance. For a long moment, you simply sat there in charged silence, acutely aware of his presence mere inches away. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, hear the soft rustling of fabric as he shifted almost imperceptibly closer.

Gojo's face was unreadable behind his ever-present blindfold, but you swore you could feel the intensity of his gaze raking over you, taking in every detail. The air practically crackled with unspoken tension, the space between you ripe with possibility. Your own eyes drifted unbidden to his lips, tracing the curve of that infamous smirk. What would it feel like, you wondered, to lean in and finally taste it for yourself? Your breath quickened at the thought.

Just as you gathered the courage to break the stalemate, Gojo's hands shot out lightning-quick, long fingers finding the sensitive spots along your ribs. An undignified yelp escaped your throat as you squirmed away, body instinctively curling in on itself even as surprised laughter bubbled up.

"Gojo!" you gasped between breathless giggles and half-hearted swats, "What are you doing?"

His grin only widened, eyes glinting with mischief behind dark lashes.

"Just trying to liven things up a bit," he replied, voice dropping to a low, playful register that sent shivers down your spine. "You looked like you could use a little fun."

Two could play at that game. Narrowing your eyes in mock outrage, a wicked idea suddenly struck. "Oh, is that so?" you purred, saccharine sweet. "Well then, sensei, prepare yourself."

Quick as a flash, your hand darted out to snatch a downy pillow and, with a mighty swing, you brought it crashing over his silver head in a magnificent explosion of feathers. His shocked bark of laughter was muffled by the impromptu weapon as you pressed your advantage, raining down fluffy blows.

Thus began the most epic pillow fight to ever grace the luxury suite. You traded volleys back and forth, a whirlwind of flying bedding and unrestrained glee. Propriety utterly abandoned, you rolled about in a graceless tangle of limbs, each trying to gain the upper hand. Your cheeks hurt from grinning, lungs burning with giddy exertion.

In that stolen moment, you weren't teacher and student, sorcerer and subordinate. You were just two young, bright souls, reveling in a reprieve from the darkness constantly nipping at your heels. Here, now, nothing existed beyond this room and the carefree laughter ringing between you.

An eternity later, chest heaving, you finally collapsed side by side in the carnage, utterly spent. Glancing over, you took in Gojo's flushed, boyish face, usually perfectly coifed hair in complete disarray, a smattering of errant feathers clinging stubbornly to the wild silver tufts. Something warm and fluttering took roost behind your breastbone at the sight.

Basking in the afterglow, it took you a moment to register your compromising position - sprawled on your back, body pressed along the solid line of his, faces scant inches apart. His arm draped loosely across your middle felt unnaturally heavy, intimate.

For a single, suspended second, you forgot how to breathe, drowning instead in this strange new awareness buzzing just beneath your skin. Gojo seemed similarly affected, features slipping into something contemplative and tender as elegant fingers traitorously began tracing delicate patterns over the exposed sliver of hip where your shirt had ridden up. You shivered at the whisper-soft touch.

"Gojo," you breathed, barely audible over the roaring in your ears.

"Shh," he hushed you gently, hand coming to rest soothingly at your waist. "It's okay, pretty. Just relax."

And then, rather than pressing the burgeoning tension simmering between you, he tugged you closer into the shelter of his arms, tucking your head beneath his chin. The embrace was chaste, devoid of ulterior motive, and yet all the more earth-shattering for it. Closing your eyes, you let yourself sink into his steadying warmth, lulled by the rhythmic drumming of his heartbeat against your cheek.

A huge yawn suddenly overtook you, eyelids growing heavy. The adrenaline of the day was quickly seeping away, leaving pleasant exhaustion in its wake. "Get some sleep," Gojo murmured into your hair, voice rumbling through his chest. "I'll be right here if you need me."

And though your racing thoughts screamed that you shouldn't, that this was toeing a dangerous line, you couldn't find it in yourself to care. Surrounded by comfort and safety, bonelessly relaxed in a way you so rarely allowed yourself, you drifted off into a dreamless slumber, content in the knowledge that he would guard you through the night.

The next morning, however, you awoke alone, the space beside you long since grown cold. Disappointment and uncertainty churned in your gut, cheeks aflame with embarrassment. Had you simply imagined the intimacy of the previous evening? Mistaken a meaningless moment of pity for something more? With a groan, you buried your burning face into the pillow.

It was only when you rolled over that you spotted it - a folded square of hotel stationery perched neatly on the nightstand. With trembling fingers, you retrieved the note, heart pounding as you unfolded it to reveal Gojo's elegant scrawl.

"Had to run out for a bit," it read. "See you back at the school. Sweet dreams, beautiful."

A broad, silly grin split your cheeks as you traced reverent fingertips over the words, lingering on the private endearment. Clutched to your chest like a talisman, you fell back onto the bed with a giddy sigh, staring up at the ceiling with stars in your eyes. Your smile never wavered the entire trip home.

A few weeks later, you found yourself standing morosely in Gojo's apartment kitchen, every available surface covered with an explosion of baking supplies. It was a dizzying array of flour, sugar, chocolate, fruit - everything you'd need to whip up an impressive assortment of mouth-watering desserts.

Unfortunately, this wasn't some cozy bonding activity - it was a punishment. After your abject failure on a recent mission, Gojo had been understandably livid. His normally unflappable composure had fractured, revealing the sheer depth of his terror and concern.

The cursed object you'd gone after solo was more dangerous than anticipated and you'd been severely injured in the ensuing scuffle. "How could you be so reckless?" he'd demanded, voice ragged with some unnameable emotion. "You could have been killed. Do you have any idea how that would have made me feel?"

Shame had burned through you like acid, head bowed under the weight of his agonized stare. "I'm sorry, sensei," you'd mumbled, fighting back the sting of tears. "I didn't mean to let you down."

Running a hand through his wild silver locks, Gojo had deflated slightly. "I know you didn't," he'd sighed, "but you need to be more careful. I can't lose you, pretty."

Your heart had stuttered at the raw admission, eyes wide and disbelieving as you'd finally met his gaze. But he'd looked away before you could respond, expression closing off into something unreadable once more.

That's how you'd ended up here, consigned to a grueling weekend of non-stop baking. "And I expect nothing short of perfection," he'd declared with that familiar smirk. "Since you're so determined to waste your talents, we're going to put them to the test."

Countless hours in and you were ready to well and truly throttle him. He hadn't been content to simply observe your cake-fueled toil, oh no - he'd posted up in the kitchen alongside you, providing a ceaseless stream of 'helpful suggestions' in that low, melodic drawl.

Whisk clattering into the mixing bowl, you slapped an indignant hand over your mouth to muffle a traitorous whimper as Gojo materialized at your back. His chest pressed flush to your spine, breath curling sinfully around the shell of your ear as he bent to examine your handiwork. "Make sure you cream the butter and sugar together really well," he purred, palm skimming down to rest at the small of your back. "Nice and slow, just like that."

Squeezing your eyes shut, you prayed to any merciful god that he'd attribute your full-body shiver to the chill of the refrigerator still wafting over your overheated skin. And lord have mercy, his hands - those long, dexterous fingers you'd spent far too many lonely nights imagining on your body were definitely, unequivocally sliding down to grip your hips, thumbs tracing maddening circles over the jut of bone through your thin leggings.

A sharp inhale had you glancing over, catching him in the act of slipping a digit into the mixing bowl for an illicit taste. He made a low sound of approval as he brought it to his lips, tongue peeking out to swipe broad strokes over the creamy coating. "Mmm, delicious," he sighed, hooded eyes ensnaring yours. "But I bet it would taste even better off of you."

You sucked in a sharp breath, the very air seeming to thicken with tension as Gojo's darkening gaze bored into yours. Before you could so much as form a coherent thought, his hand whipped out to capture your wrist in an unforgiving grip. Calloused fingertips skated over your knuckles before tugging your hand towards his mouth with agonizing slowness.

Heart pounding wildly, you could only look on in rapt fascination as he purposefully dragged the pad of your sugar-dusted index finger between the plush seam of his lips. The soft, lived warmth of his mouth engulfed the very tip as his eyelids fluttered in apparent rapture. An embarrassingly needy whimper punched its way past your constricted throat at the erotic display.

Gojo's stare remained locked on yours as his tongue slowly unfurled, swiping in languid, maddening stripes to lave up the sticky-sweet trail. You watched, transfixed, as his cheeks hollowed minutely on each indulgent suckle. The bolt of molten, aching want that lanced straight to your core was dizzying in its intensity, leaving you flushed and swaying dazedly into his solid frame.

When at last he released your fingertip with one final, lingering lap of his rough tongue, the tortured sound he dragged from your parted lips bordered on the obscene.

Suddenly, the once-spacious kitchen felt stiflingly small, air too hot and heavy to pull into your lungs. Unbidden, your gaze darted down to trace his mouth, lingering on the sheen of saliva clinging to his plush lower lip. What would it be like, you wondered wildly, to surge up on your toes and lick it off? To finally give into the temptation that had plagued you since that night in the hotel room and discover if he tasted as sinful as he looked?

It was only when his smirk widened into a full-blown Cheshire grin that you realized you'd been caught staring like a dog with its tongue lolling out. Heat rapidly flooded your cheeks as you whipped back around, praying to spontaneously combust on the spot. A ghost of a touch through your hair had you swallowing harshly, fingers white-knuckled against the edge of the countertop. You could practically feel the path of his gaze as it dragged up the rigid line of your spine but you refused to turn, terrified of what he might see written across your face were you to meet his eyes right now.

The press of lips just behind your ear had you jerking, an embarrassing squeak punching out of your throat. "Good girl," he rumbled, and the blatant satisfaction in his voice made you want to drown yourself in the bowl of egg whites you'd just finished whisking within an inch of its life. "I knew you had it in you."

Gritting your teeth, you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand, losing yourself in the soothing monotony of measuring, mixing and portioning out heaping trays of dough into uniform spheres. Soon enough, you found yourself pleasantly adrift in the familiar haze of concentration that came with long hours in the kitchen. The sweet scent of vanilla and cinnamon filled your senses as you bustled about from oven to oven, carefully monitoring pans of cookies and intricate latticed pies.

Lulled into complacency by the peaceful atmosphere, you never even heard Gojo sneak up until large palms were wrapping securely around your waist, tugging your back into the solid heat of his chest. Blinking sluggishly, you glanced down at the thick pot of bubbling caramel you'd been methodically stirring moments before.

"Careful, pretty," he chided gently, maneuvering the spoon to the far edges where a few darker swirls were beginning to creep in. "Don't let it burn."

Only when he was certain you wouldn't scald yourself or ruin the batch did he release you, though not without a teasing little squeeze that had your cheeks coloring all over again.

By the time the last tray finally emerged from the oven, golden and steaming, you were dangerously close to faceplanting right into your latest culinary creation. Gojo eased the spoon from your cramping hand, brows furrowed as he scrutinized your slumped posture.

"Hey," he prompted gently, "You okay, beautiful?"

Too exhausted to bother fudging the truth, you shook your head, fighting to keep your drooping lids from sliding shut altogether. "Just tired," you yawned, "Guess it really has been a long day."

Something soft flashed across Gojo's face then, gone too quickly to properly parse. Large hands settled on your hips as he turned you to face him fully, head cocked assessingly. After apparently coming to some silent conclusion, he bent at the knees and, without warning, hoisted you up onto the countertop in one fluid movement, fingers pressing against your hips.

"Rest," he commanded, cutting off your half-hearted protest with a stern look. Long fingers carded adoringly through your hair, brushing stray strands back from your clammy forehead. You nearly purred at the soothing contact, lashes fluttering wildly against your cheeks.

When he shifted to pull back, one of your hands shot out of its own accord, fisting in the front of his shirt to tug him stumbling into the bracket of your thighs. Wide eyes locked on his, so close you swore you could see a ring of silver around those striking pools of blue. For a charged moment, the only sound was your shared breathing and the faint bubble of cooling caramel on the stovetop.

A muscle ticked in Gojo's jaw and then he was leaning in, the warm brush of lips at your temple practically scorching in its tenderness. "I'll finish up here," he promised in a rough whisper before disentangling himself to shoo you off towards the nearby couch. Already half-asleep, you were powerless to resist as your legs moved on autopilot.

Burrowing into the plush cushions, you watched through heavy lids as Gojo puttered around the kitchen, putting away ingredients and packaging up an explosion of colorful delights. The low rumble of his absentminded humming buoyed you gently into slumber as your heartbeat slowed to match the steady cadence.

These quiet moments of care and support, you thought drowsily, were worth more than a thousand love songs blasting from the rooftops. Here, in the shelter of his presence, the world narrowed down to just the two of you, separate from the darkness and chaos outside.

Hand outstretched in hopeless yearning, you finally succumbed to sleep's inexorable pull, dreams full of silver hair and secret smiles. A single word ghosted past your lips like a prayer just before you went under.

"Satoru."

And then there was only blissful darkness.

Your eyes fluttered open at the feeling of gentle fingers carding through your hair. Gojo was seated beside you on the couch, gaze soft as he watched over your slumber.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," he murmured, voice a deep rumble that sent tingles down your spine. "Feel any better?"

You hummed an affirmative, stretching languidly before settling back against the plush cushions. "Much. Thank you for letting me recharge."

Gojo's smile broadened and he shifted closer, arm draping along the back of the couch behind you. "Of course. I know how hard you've been working." His tone sobered. "I don't want you running yourself ragged like that again though, okay pretty? Promise me you'll take it easier from now on."

Meeting his intense stare, you felt yourself getting lost in the molten blue of his eyes, deeper and more turbulent than any ocean. "I promise," you whispered, transfixed.

Something flickered across his expression then, tender and wanting. Slowly, giving you ample time to pull away, Gojo leaned in until his brow rested gently against yours, breaths mingling in the scant space between you. Your eyes slid shut of their own accord as his nose brushed tenderly along yours in an achingly intimate caress.

And then, softer than a sigh, his lips were on yours - a gossamer brush at first before settling in a warm, unhurried glide. Instinctively, you wound your arms around his neck, pulling him closer until the hard planes of his body bracketed you against the cushions. He went willingly, slotting one lean thigh between your parted legs as his tongue teased at the seam of your mouth in a silent request for deeper exploration.

A low keen escaped the back of your throat as you opened for him eagerly. He surged forward with renewed fervor, mouth moving over yours in a heated glide of searing, slick heat as he coaxed your tongues into a sensual dance. Utterly intoxicated, your fingers wound into the thick strands at his nape, holding him close as your senses drowned in the taste, smell and feel of him surrounding you.

Gojo cradled you reverently, one broad palm cupping your jaw while the other mapped the dip of your waist through the thin material of your shirt. You arched shamelessly into his touch, chasing that electrifying tingle that sparked across your nerves with every heated caress. An embarrassingly needy whine slipped free when he finally pulled back, putting barely an inch between your lips as you both struggled to breathe.

"Satoru," you rasped out, practically delirious with wanting. You could feel his smile against your mouth as he reclaimed it in another breathtaking kiss, slower but no less intense.

"I've got you, pretty girl," he purred between devastating sweeps of his talented tongue. "I'll always take such good care of you."

You believed him wholeheartedly in that moment, drowning in sensation as his touch grew bolder, both cherishing and claiming every inch of newly exposed skin. Rational thought fled in the wake of his ardent worship, the world shrinking down to just his body, his hands, his sinful mouth rendering you into an incoherent, needy mess.

Distantly, you recognized this as a line you could never uncross - a point of no return. But Gojo was so warm, so solid and reassuring around you that you couldn't find it in yourself to care about consequences. Not when he was pillaging your lips with such fervent devotion, hands mapping out every shudder and whimper he pulled from your rapidly unraveling form.

All you knew was that you never wanted this to end, this sublime sublime torture of hands and lips and roaming caresses that stoked your desire ever higher into an inextinguishable blaze. Fisting in his hair, you pulled him impossibly closer with a wounded sound.

"Please," you begged against his mouth, though you weren't quite sure what you were asking for. More, everything, a lifetime of this sublime rapture - you needed it all like you needed air to breathe.

Gojo simply hummed low in his throat, the vibration doing devastatingly sinful things to your already overheated skin. "Always so greedy for me," he purred, rolling his hips in one lazy, purposeful grind that punched the air from your lungs. "Don't worry, baby. I'm going to take such good care of you."

True to his word, he lost himself in lavishing every inch of exposed skin with hot, open-mouth kisses until you were trembling and writhing beneath him. Only then did he trail scorching paths lower, intent on learning exactly what sounds and caresses could reduce his normally unflappable student to a whimpering, pleading mess.

Your clothes quickly became a haphazard pile on the floor, joining the growing heap of his discarded layers. His dexterous fingers found purchase everywhere they touched, sending lightning bolts of pleasure zinging through your veins until all you could do was cling to him desperately.

Gojo was no less affected, his usually immaculate silver locks falling in a disheveled halo around his head, cheeks flushed and pupils blown wide with lust. The sight was almost enough to send you careening over the edge right then and there.

His smirk told you he knew precisely the effect he was having. "Look at you," he praised in a low, silken drawl, "so beautiful and needy for me. Are you gonna be a good girl and come for me?"

You nearly sobbed as his clever fingers curled perfectly inside you, coaxing you higher and higher, until you were practically vibrating with the strain.

"So perfect, my sweet girl. Such a good little slut, taking my fingers like that. C'mon, let go, beautiful. Come for me."

With a strangled cry, you shattered, back arching off the couch as his mouth latched onto one rosy peak, teeth catching on the hardened bud in a delicious bite of pain. He worked you through the waves, whispering sinful praises into the sweat-slick skin of your breasts as you shuddered and quaked around his hand.

The aftershocks still hadn't abated when he was flipping you onto your hands and knees, kneeling behind you with his cock in hand. You watched with lidded eyes, heart skittering in your chest as he pumped lazily, his other hand coming to grip your hip.

"Gonna make you feel so good, pretty," he promised, dragging the flushed head over your entrance teasingly. "Want to see you fall apart on my cock. You're gonna look so gorgeous when I fuck you full, mark you up so everyone knows who you belong to."

The words set your entire body alight, a fresh surge of arousal trickling down your trembling thighs. A breathless whimper was all you could manage, eyes rolling back at the delicious drag of his cock against your oversensitive flesh.

With a groan, Gojo sheathed himself fully in one slow thrust, burying his cock to the hilt. Your head fell forward with a breathless cry, spine curving instinctively to deepen the angle.

"God, look at you, baby," he gasped, sounding utterly wrecked. "Fuck, you're so perfect, so tight around me. Such a good girl, taking me so well."

And then, without further preamble, he was pulling out nearly to the tip before snapping his hips back home in a relentless tempo that had the couch squeaking and shaking beneath you.

The room was filled with the obscene sounds of your skin slapping together, punctuated by his rough grunts and your high-pitched keens. You couldn't even muster the strength to move, could only kneel there and take whatever he chose to give you, his grip on your hips the only thing keeping you upright.

He pounded into you hard and fast, the delicious stretch of him nearly overwhelming in its intensity. Every nerve was lit aflame, a wildfire racing through your veins. You were so close, you could feel the precipice rushing up to meet you.

"Touch yourself for me, pretty," he urged, hips slamming into yours. "Let me feel you come."

Your hand shot down to frantically circle your clit, fingers slipping over the sensitive nub with practiced ease. Within seconds, your body was locking up, vision whiting out as clear fluid gushed out of you, drenching the couch beneath you.

"That's it," Gojo groaned, hips stuttering. "Fucking squirt for me, beautiful."

With a muffled curse, he buried himself balls deep, fingers digging painfully into your waist as he pumped rope after rope of hot cum into you. You could feel every throb, the pulse of his cock as he filled you up.

Afterwards, you collapsed into an exhausted, sweaty heap, utterly boneless. You floated on a cloud of endorphins, drifting hazily through the haze of afterglow.

It was only once Gojo's breath had slowed and steadied that you finally dared to glance up, half-afraid you'd see regret or remorse etched into his features. Instead, he met your questioning gaze with a soft, tender smile, brushing the hair back from your flushed cheeks with surprising gentleness.

"I've got you, pretty," he murmured again, thumb grazing your flushed cheekbone. "Sleep. We'll figure out...this...in the morning."

Tilting your head back, you searched his lidded gaze, looking for any hint of hesitation or regret. But his striking blue eyes were clear, open and certain in a way that squeezed the breath from your lungs. Whatever came next, you realized with a strange sense of calm certainty, you wouldn't face it alone.

Offering him a small, private smile, you pressed one last lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth before tucking your head under his chin once more. He tightened his protective arms around you as your breathing gradually synced.

As the world shrank down to just the two of you cocooned together on the couch, you let your eyes drift shut.

You had both crossed a line tonight, whether you were ready or not. There was no going back to the way things were before. But as sleep began pulling you under, you felt a strange sense of peace settle over you. Whatever came next, you would take it on together, come what may.

Nestling closer, you let out a slow exhale and surrendered to the pull of slumber, secure in that singular certainty. The rest could be figured out later.

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