#[ she did watch his matches and knew *of* him tho ] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bloodyserratus · 1 year ago

Text

intrusive thoughts

pairing: choso x fem!reader word count: 5.8k synopsis: yuji's getting married and you and choso are best man and woman. it's not your wedding though, so why do your hands keep ending up on each other? themes/warnings: SMUT! mdni, plot tho i was a smidge lazy about it, masturbation, piv intercourse, nipple play, nipple piercings!choso, sub-ish!choso, switchy reader, friends to lovers.

a/n: oof. i feel like this is a bit rushed, but he caught me on an ovulation week ig. would love to know what you think!

“YN!!”

Yuji’s familiar voice shouts your name before you can even reach the host stand. You smiled apologetically to the hostess before making your way towards him.

“Yu-ji, Yu-ji!” you hop excitedly towards the young man until you can wrap him up in a tight hug. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! Thank you for inviting me to dinner.”

“Of course!” Yuji beamed back at you.

You glanced at the table and were surprised to see how many place settings there were. You seemed to have been the first to arrive and you wondered who all he had invited. The seats filled with Yuji’s friends one by one. Megumi and Nobara were familiar names and it was nice to finally match a face to them. You watched Yuji with curiosity, noticing that he seemed to be buzzing with a sort of unusual energy. Nerves, maybe, but you’d never known Yuji to be a particularly nervous person.

A shadow fell over you as you watched Yuji converse excitedly with his coworkers. You glanced up and did a double take when you realized it was Yuji’s older brother, Choso, standing over you.

“Oh shit,” you chuckled, squinting up at him. “Something big’s going on, huh?”

It had been many a year since Yuji had summoned both you and Choso together. Not because you didn’t get along or anything, but because your lives had simply taken you in different paths. Your work had moved you an hour from the city and so occasions where all three of you were together had grown increasingly rare.

Choso took the empty seat across from you and watched as your eyes flitted to his younger brother with suspicion. He was surprised at the sense of familiarity and comfort he felt seeing you, despite it having been probably two to three years.

Choso wondered how your parents were. You’d grown up as neighbors and your parents had welcomed Choso and Yuji as practically their own. While other adults whispered nasty things about their absentee parents, yours had shared nothing but care and kindness.

“Ay ay!” Yuji stood up suddenly, lifting a glass ceremoniously. “Thank you everyone for coming! I know it’s tough to get a big group like this together typically, so I appreciate you all making the time today.”

“As you can probably guess…I have an announcement to make,” Yuji continued, “So let's just get that out of the way.”

The woman next to him stood up and placed her hand in his.

“Yuko and I are engaged!” Yuji announced loudly.

You gasped, jaw dropping. Your eyes darted to Choso, filled with excitement. You'd met Yuko once when she and Yuji had first started dating. Granted it had been years, but time really flies! You looked on happily as the group tittered and got their questions answered.

When had this happened? Had they set a date? Would it be destination or local?

“Did you know?” you kicked Choso under the table.

“I knew he'd been planning,” he answered calmly.

“I can't believe it,” you pressed your palms to your cheeks. “I remember when they just started dating.”

“You don't get back here nearly enough,” Choso commented behind a sip of water.

“I know,” your face creased with guilt and your cheeks heated up.

Choso smiled. You still couldn't seem to tell when he was just teasing you.

“What do you think? This is a big deal,” you asked.

“Yuko’s a great girl. I think they make a lot of sense together.”

“That's great. If Yuji’s happy, I'm happy,” you grinned.

Choso nodded. He couldn't agree more. His eyes softened at the corners as he watched you. You were watching Yuji with such a fond expression.

You looked on as Yuko, Yuji, and his friends chatted excitedly. You were older and not quite a part of the friend group, so it was easy to sit back and observe. It was sweet to see the way that Yuji folded Yuko seamlessly in with his friends. They were clearly a tight knit group.

“What’s up with you these days?” Choso interrupted your quiet observations.

“Not too much, to be honest. Working at the same company. Switched roles, but mostly things are the same. You?”

“You know me. Sucking blood from kids,” he shrugged.

“Can you-?” you rolled your eyes so far back into your head that all he saw were the whites. “Must you say it like that?”

Choso was a phlebotomist at the children’s hospital. A perfect respectable career, but the way he chose to describe it was still the weirdest ever. Still it paid well and the schedule was reasonable. Choso was still giggling to himself when Yuko and Yuji appeared at your side.

“YN?” Yuji approached.

“Yeah?” you turned to the two with a smile.

“I-I…I have a favor to ask,” Yuko looked at you nervously.

“What is it?”

“Um…I don’t have much family left. I-, um. Would you be willing to help me with the wedding planning?”

“Oh!” your eyes widened as you processed the ask. “Yuko, of course! I’m so honored you asked! Thank you!”

“Thank you so much!” Yuko grabbed your hands excitedly and Yuji let out a sigh of relief.

Choso watched as you and Yuko exchanged phone numbers and made plans to meet up. He wondered if you still had the same phone number.

Your phone lit up with a message as you pulled into your apartment’s parking lot. The contact was saved as a string of emojis, so you didn’t immediately recall who it was.

[⛓️👿♟️]: ‘is this still your #?”

[yn]: ‘who is this?’

[⛓️👿♟️]: ‘...rude’

[yn]: ‘????’

[⛓️👿♟️]: ‘it’s choso’

[yn]: ‘ohhhhhhhhhh! i must’ve saved you as these emojis ages ago. my bad!’

[⛓️👿♟️]: ‘what are my emojis?? 👀’

[yn]: ‘⛓️👿♟️’

[⛓️👿♟️]: ‘plz change those. 😑’

[yn]: ‘LOL don’t judge! those are from high school’

[yn:] ‘updated!’

[💉🩸]: ‘👀’

[yn]: ‘💉🩸’

[💉🩸]: ‘🥹 please’

[yn]: ‘not taking constructive criticism. good night’

[💉🩸]: ‘so mean’

You laughed, slipping your phone back into your pocket and gathering your things. You thought as you took the elevator upstairs. Once upon a time, you, Choso, and Yuji had been much closer. You’d been neighbors since you’d been born, but you hadn’t grown close until late middle school. Choso’s mother had fallen ill and then after her passing, their father, Ken, faded into absenteeism. Your parents had been unable to do anything other than welcome them in as their own. Afternoon’s and evenings were quickly filled with Choso and Yuji and the three of you became a reliable trio.

It was nice to see Choso. He had a few more years on him and it suited him.

…

You might have regretted saying yes to Yuko’s favor.

Not that you would've made a different decision, but more like you would've bought a wheelchair so that you could make Choso and Yuji push you around. Because of your limited availability, weekends had been packed with venue tours, dress fittings, and even a color analysis appointment for the four of you to help Yuko and Yuji decide on a color scheme. Nearly four hours just to learn that dark jewel tones suited you and Choso best.

You exhaled sharply, trying to keep up with Choso’s long strides. Today was maid of honor’s dress and best man’s tux trying day.

“Wait up. I got little legs!” you joked, tugging on Choso’s sweatshirt.

“Oh, sorry,” he chuckled goodnaturedly. “Was lost in thought.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” you teased, reaching up to tap him gently on the forehead.

Choso’s brow furrowed imperceptibly and he blinked down at you. He felt somehow flustered at your teasing.

“Come on!” you grabbed his hand absentmindedly and tugged him into the dress store.

“Hello!” the front desk attendant greeted you. “YN?”

“Yes! We made an appointment for nine thirty?”

“Welcome welcome! My name is May, let me show you to the fitting room,” she gestured to follow her. “We already received some notes from Yuko that we are going for jewel tones, so we’ve pulled out a handful of styles and colors to try and point us in viable directions.”

“Great!” you smiled, dropping your bag onto the couch before moving to the fitting room.

“And mister boyfriend or husband?” May turned to address Choso, “May I get you anything to drink?”

“Who?” Choso looked around. “Me?”

“Yes,” May smiled patiently.

“Water would be fine,” he answered. He must’ve misheard her.

“I’ll be right back!” she clapped her hands together sharply.

“Ooh, I love this color, but not the style,” you thought aloud as you emerged from the fitting room.

Choso agreed. As he had learned from the color analysis class, this color brought out a certain glow in your face.

You did a quick 360 for him before retreating back into the fitting room. May returned with water before you came back out with the second dress on. This one was much more suited to your shape, but the sleeves left something to be desired. A series of dresses were tried and shown to May and Choso before you tried one on that really dropped your jaw.

“You okay in there?” Choso’s deep voice checked in on you as you admired yourself.

“Yeah, I’ll be right out!” you called back, checking out the back one more time before opening the door.

“Wow…,” May’s hands came to cover her mouth with delight.

Shit. Choso sat up straight.

“I love this one,” you smiled at both May and Choso.

He nodded.

“That’s the one?” May asked kindly. “There’s absolutely no rush, so don’t feel shy about trying more on.”

“Ah, I suppose I should try a few more on, huh?” you nodded before spinning one more time in front of the trifold mirrors. This one would be hard to beat.

“Oh! I forgot! Are we taking pictures to send to the bride and groom? Or do we have full creative control today?”

“Ah shit!” you burst back out of the fitting room, holding the unzipped dress up to your chest. “We do need to take photos for Yuko. Choso, can you?” you looked toward him.

“Oh, yes, hold on,” Choso stood.

May helped to zip you back up while he searched through his pockets for his phone. He crouched back down a bit to center you in the frame and you gave him a bright smile, posing slightly. He gave you a curt nod when he was satisfied. This process repeated itself several times until you had about seven viable dress options and Choso had a veritable deck of photos in his phone for Yuko.

Then it was Choso’s turn.

“Phew! I’m glad to be back in my leggings,” you chuckled, flopping down on the couch.

“Wow, you are broad!” May remarked as she took Choso’s shoulder measurements.

Choso flushed at her comment as she moved expeditiously to his waist and then inseam.

“Are you even real?” she joked noting his shoulder to waist ratio. “Built like a Dorito chip.”

You snorted at this comment. May was kind of out of pocket and you loved it. You covered your mouth to try and hide your giggles. Choso had always been easy to fluster and apparently that hadn’t changed. Pink spread across the scrunch in his nose and crept up the tips of his ears. Despite his somewhat intimidating appearance, he was honestly adorable.

“Stop,” he whined while May pulled suits for him.

“Sorry, but that was funny,” you smiled apologetically at him, straightening your face.

“I’m not built like a Dorito!” he insisted.

“You kind of are though,” your eyes roved over him.

“You really are,” May echoed as she came back into the room with a handful of suits. “I’m gonna tell you now, we’ll need to tailor these. So I fitted to your shoulders and then we’ll pin the waist to get a sense of things now.”

Choso nodded, accepting the stack from May and retreating into the fitting room.

“So how long have you two been together?” May asked as you waited for him to emerge.

“Hm?” you looked up from your phone, “How long have we known each other? Since forever, I guess. We were neighbors growing up.”

“Ah, so you started dating more recently?”

You spat out your water.

“What?!” you looked at her with alarm. “We’re not-, what gave you that idea?”

“No?” May raised an eyebrow, giving it more serious thought. “You two look good together. It’s a vibe, I don’t know!”

Choso stepped out of the dressing room at this moment, eyebrows raised at the conversation he’d walked into.

“Oh!” your eyes widened, giving him a once over. He’d stepped out in a black suit with a deep purple dress shirt and black bow tie.

“What do you think?” he looked at you expectantly.

“You look good, man,” you nodded. “That color lady was right. Amethysty purple looks good on you too.”

“How’s the fit?” May asked, stepping towards him. “Do you have a comfortable range of motion in the arms? That’s usually the key point for suits.”

Choso moved his arms around, rotating fully above his head a few times and swinging his arms forward and backwards a few times. You couldn’t help but notice the way the shirt strained at his chest as he did so, buttons looking as if they might pop at any moment.

“It looks tight,” you couldn’t help but comment.

“It is a little,” Choso nodded, “Can we go up one size, May?”

“Sure thing!” May nodded, leaving again to grab more options.

“What do you think?” you asked behind him, watching his reflection in the mirror. “Do you want to go black suit and color dress shirt? Or do want to go color suit and black dress shirt?”

“I don’t know,” Choso shrugged, meeting your gaze in the mirror as he started to undo buttons. “I’ll try both, but I don’t really care either way. You tell me if you have a strong preference.”

“Okay,” you nodded, eyes glued to his fingers making quick work of the row of buttons.

“Whoo! Free show!” May remarked when she walked back in, quickly noting Choso’s now half exposed chest. “Here’s round two.”

“Thanks,” Choso chuckled bashfully. He was getting more accustomed to May’s bright personality.

May made a show of fanning herself as he stepped back into the fitting room. You laughed.

“I’m gonna try on the purple suit this time,” Choso called over the door.

“Sure!” you nodded.

“Okay, definitely not this,” he shook his head as he stepped out.

You had to agree. The large swath of purple was somehow…Wonkian. With a quick nod from May, Choso retreated once again, this time emerging with the black suit and purple shirt again.

“How’s that feel for sizing?”

“Good, but loose around the waist.”

“Ah yes, but that’s easily addressed,” May nodded, stepping behind him to pull darts into the shirt expertly. Like magic, the silhouette of the shirt tucked into a neat V.

“Come hold this please, YN?” she jerked her head at you. “I need to grab my safety pins.”

You nodded and grabbed the sections of fabric from May.

“This looks good,” you popped your head out from around him to remark.

Choso nodded. Your knuckles rested against the small of his back as you looked up at him. His skin prickled in a way that wasn't totally unpleasant.

“How was work this week?” you asked with a smile.

“Good,” he nodded. “Pretty busy but we were actually fully staffed, for once. You?”

“Not too bad! I'm between projects right now, so it was a fairly quiet week.”

“How is Yuji feeling about the wedding? Overwhelmed at all?”

“He seems fine,” Choso smiled.

You chuckled. That was typical, you supposed.

“Yuko seems a little overwhelmed sometimes.”

“I think so,” you nodded. “I get a panic text from her every so often. It's not too bad, just a lot of things to think about.”

Choso’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I'll talk to Yuji. If Yuko is feeling overwhelmed, he should step in and help.”

You looked at Choso with interest. Characteristically reliable.

“Found the pins!” May burst back in. “Sorry it took so long!”

“No problem,” you and Choso answered in unison.

You allowed May to pin the fabric of his shirt and Choso found himself missing your closeness when you stepped back.

“What do we think?”

“Good,” Choso nodded, tugging the suit jacket into place. “Is this color close enough to your dress?” he glanced at you.

“Oh yes, I think so,” May nodded, pulling the final dress selection out to compare.

“Then I think I'm all good,” he nodded surely.

You sent the pictures of Choso’s suit to Yuko as he changed back into his crew neck sweater and cargo pants. That was the Choso you were used to.

“Should we eat?” he smiled crookedly at you, reaching a hand out to pull you up.

“Sure!”

“I know a place,” he nodded, so you followed his lead.

…

You beamed at Choso excitedly. Cake tasting day!

“Excited?” he crossed his arms and cocked his head at you.

“Very! It's cake day!” you grinned goofily up at him.

“That it is,” he chuckled, glancing around for Yuji and Yuko. “I wonder where they are.”

“Will you call them? I'll go check in for the appointment at least.”

Choso nodded and you split up.

“Hello!” you greeted the front desk as you stepped in the door. “We have a ten-thirty appointment, but our bride and groom seem to be running a bit late.”

“Not to worry,” the receptionist smiled kindly at you.

“What's the word?” you asked Choso when he stepped inside.

“How do I, uh,” Choso flushed across the cheeks. “They're young and in love…and lost track of time. So they are going to be quite late. They think thirty minutes.”

“Oh dear,” your eyes widened and you looked towards the receptionist apologetically. “What should we do? I assume you're booked out quite a ways.”

“Yes,” she nodded regretfully. “If the two of you would like to proceed with the tasting and take notes for the bride and groom, I would recommend that as the best way to proceed.”

“Yes, that makes sense,” Choso nodded, “I am terribly sorry about this.”

“That's quite alright!” she smiled generously, “You’d be surprised that that's not the first time that's happened.”

You exchanged a surprised glance with Choso.

“Personally I’d love to be late because I was getting my back blown out instead of my usual reason, which is just poor planning.”

“Hah!” you let out a loud laugh at her remark, “Same, friend. While I am very happy for the bride and groom, all this wedding stuff is making me feel so single.”

Choso’s eyebrows raised with surprise.

“Hello my beautiful bride and groom!” a chef entered the room enthusiastically.

“Oh no, we're not,” you waved your hands at him.

“The bride and groom are running late so we will be taking notes for them,” Choso added.

“Ah, I see. Well when you are ready for your own wedding I hope you come back to see us!”

You and Choso both nodded goodnaturedly which seemed to satisfy the man, so he proceeded with cake samples. Yuko and Yuji had already decided on shape and tiers, so all you needed to do was provide input on flavors. You were grateful that the bakery had provided templates to take notes on because there seemed to be no end to the flavors you were shown.

“I think I hate cake now,” you mumbled to Choso at the end of it.

“Agreed. If I don't eat cake again until the wedding, I'd be just fine.”

You smiled at him.

“Oh you have some cake,” he gestured to his own mouth.

“Oh!” you licked your lips again and reached for a napkin.

“Here, let me,” Choso moved to brush the smudge off himself.

You didn't know what happened and neither did he, but at the end of the day Choso’s thumb slid into your mouth and your tongue had wrapped itself readily around it. Wide eyes met and you made a noise of confusion. Muffled by his large thumb, it sounded more akin to a moan.

Choso’s heart stopped for a moment. He was panicking but also frozen, staring at your lips pursed around his digit. Your mouth was wet and warm and he felt strongly that this was something that should have remained unknown to him. Then the friction of your tongue against the pad of his fingertip sent a jolt of adrenaline through him.

“Shit, I-,” he finally unfroze and pulled his hand back. “I didn't mean-.”

“Me neither,” you shook your head furiously. You were still hot with embarrassment when the receptionist came in to tie things up with you.

Awkward silence lingered over you when you and Choso left. Your goodbye was short and thoughts of his fingers plagued your mind as you drove back home.

…

Choso turned onto his stomach again. He couldn't sleep. Couldn't do much after what had happened today. Not because it was something he felt you couldn't recover from.

No, it was the want. It had settled in the pit of his stomach like a heavy weight and ignoring it wasn't helping at all.

“Fuck,” he huffed, hips grinding into the mattress. The friction was a welcome relief from the pulsating throb he’d been doing his best to ignore.

“Oh,” he exhaled sharply as he picked up the pace. He dragged his length across the soft, microfiber sheets and pictured your cheeks hollowing as you sucked around him.

He let out a ragged whine and flipped onto his back again. It wasn't enough. He propped himself up on his pillows and reached into his waistband. He cupped himself and reached for his phone. He flipped to the pictures of you saved there and zoomed in on your face. Whatever guilt he had was quickly pushed away to make room for his wild arousal. He wrapped his long fingers around himself and pumped his hips up into his fist

“YN,” your name fell from his lips repeatedly as he thrust up into his fist. His brow knotted and sweat beaded on his nose as he sought some form of relief.

…

You stared into the dark void of your room as you traced the shape of your lips. Memories of earlier replayed in your mind. The sensation of Choso’s thumb sliding across your lower lip. The friction of the pad pressing against your tongue. The wet ‘pop’ that sounded when he’d pulled back, panicked. You groaned, turning on your side and pressing your thighs together. Sadly it did not settle the throbbing, but it did offer some minor relief.

“Ah fuck it,” you sighed, reaching into the top draw of your nightstand. You fished around for your trusty, purple vibrator and settled into the pillows so you could get this out of your system.

You did your best not to think of Choso. Well…you made an attempt.

But as soon as you closed your eyes, your mind flooded with images of Choso. Over you, supporting himself with his muscular arms as his eyes bored into. Under you, whimpering and moaning prettily, his face flushed from sensation. Kissing your neck from behind as his hands squeezed your hips.

You squeaked as the vibrator buzzed to live and you trailed it along your inner thighs. You wondered briefly how Choso might react to it being used on him and you gushed at the thought. He was so expressive…it would be so fun to just ruin him.

“Shit!?” you gasped, eyes opening as an orgasm rolled through you unexpectedly. You blinked in surprise. It usually took you much longer than that.

You contemplated for a moment while you still had post-orgasmic clarity. As someone who didn’t tend towards topping, it was surprising to feel so attracted and aroused by the idea of doing so to Choso. The idea of pressing your fingers in his mouth quickly pushed the clarity away. Imagining his soft, wet pants through your wet, slick fingers instead sent you straight down the path of unbridled madness instead.

…

“Hey!” you smiled when you saw Choso’s tall figure round the corner.

“Hey,” he smiled lazily. “Ready?”

“Yep,” you nodded, pretending as if you hadn’t spent several nights out of the last week fantasizing about this man.

You stepped into the bridal store with him. It was time for the tailored fittings. May handed you your respective garments and you both stepped into separate fitting rooms. The tailored dress fit like a glove. You smiled with delight as you spun around, getting a sense of the back.

“I love it!” you grinned at May when you stepped out. Her face lit up with delight, giving you a once over.

“You look amazing, holy shit!” she remarked.

Choso’s ears pricked, listening to you and May titter excitedly about the dress. He couldn’t wait to see you. He hurried about tucking the dress shirt into his pants and then tugging on the jacket before he stepped out to join you.

“Oh,” you breathed softly when you saw him.

He looked incredible. The suit really emphasized his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The dark purple color contrasted nicely against his skin and emphasized his eyes.

“This looks great,” you murmured, stepping forward to run your hands over the lapels. The material looked so soft.

“Ssh!” Choso jerked as if he’d been hit and you pulled back quickly.

“What?” you asked, eyebrows creased with worry.

“No, sorry,” he smiled apologetically at you. “It just took me by surprise. You grazed my piercings.”

“Piercings?” you cocked your head, staring at his chest with confusion. Heat crept up your neck and cheeks as you realized…where the piercings were.

Choso looked away, blushing too, at your realization.

“Sorry, I didn’t know,” you blinked up at him. “Can I-, um,” your hands reached out of their own accord. What the fuck were you even asking?!

“Oh, uh…,” Choso blinked. His brain wasn’t fully functioning but he knew he wanted your hands on him again. “Yeah,” he swallowed loudly.

You stepped towards him, unable to meet his eyes. You slipped your hands under his lapels and slid them across his chest. Your fingers splayed and traced over his ribcage, his toned torso, and up to his pecs. You could feel the way his chest expanded and contracted with each breath.

Choso watched you as your hands roamed. You wouldn’t look at him, but your hands explored him greedily. His breaths were shallow as your fingertips searched out his piercings. An exhale hitched in his throat when they finally met. Your fingertips were gentle as they traced the beads. He bit back a moan as your fingertips brushed against his nipples, feeling the flesh around the bar, through the fabric of his shirt. It was difficult to ignore the way he was straining against his slacks.

“Choso,” you exhaled breathlessly and looked up at him. His face was red and his brow was scrunched up.

“I-, oh?” May walked in, pausing suddenly at your proximity.

“Ah, hi May!” you turned quickly to face her.

“Hello! How are we doing in here?” she asked, eyes flitting between you and Choso slowly.

“Good,” you nodded.

“Everything fits well?”

“Yes,” Choso nodded. He was eager to wrap this up so that he could discuss what had just occurred with you.

“Wonderful!” May smiled. “Well then you can get changed back into your street clothes. Yuko requested that we hold onto the entire party’s dresses and suits until the day of the event, so they will be here.”

“Sounds good,” you nodded.

You ducked back into the dressing room and tried to get a grip. What the hell had you been thinking? You needed to eat some grass. You shook your head as you changed back into your casual clothes. You waited for a moment or two, but then wondered if he had left already. Shrugging, you supposed that you didn’t need to wait for him and so stepped outside.

“Hey,” he scared the living daylights out of you as you walked by, checking messages on your phone.

“Shit, hey,” you hissed at him with surprise.

“Should we talk?” he looked down at you, arms crossed over his broad chest.

“We should,” you nodded, “But I’m nervous.”

“What for?” he asked with a soft smile.

You supposed that was a good question. This was Choso after all.

“I just,” you huffed, “Not sure I have an explanation.”

Choso stepped forward, bringing himself toe to toe with you. He lowered his face to yours before he spoke again.

“You like me?”

You contemplated for a moment before relenting. Of course you did.

“Yes,” you met his gaze, lips nearly grazing his now.

“Would you like to act on it?”

You didn’t have to think too hard about this one.

“Yes,” you nodded.

Choso grinned and placed his hands around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He lowered his lips against yours and kissed you enthusiastically.

“I’ll be honest. You got me fired up in there,” he chuckled against your lips. “But I don’t need to go fast if you’re not ready.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled against his lips. Choso was so respectful. “You got me bad.”

“Did you drive?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“Want to come to mine?” he suggested.

You nodded and he led you to his car.

Your bodies were a jumble after he managed to unlock his door. You kissed along his jaw, down his neck, and nipped at his collarbone as he backed you towards his bedroom. You let your hands roam freely this time, tracing the flexing lines of his muscles eagerly. What the hell was he hiding under there?

As if he’d read your mind, Choso leaned back for a moment and pulled his shirt off over his head. Your mouth fell open with surprise. Your eyes traced from his face, over his shoulders, down the sides of his torso, and landed on the dusting of hair below his belly button.

“What the fuck?” you brought your hands to your mouth. “You look like that?!” you nearly shouted at him.

“What?” he shrugged, having the audacity to be shy.

“Lay down, please,” you insisted, grabbing him and pushing him onto the bed. A body like that really did deserve to be worshiped.

You held yourself up over him and pressed a soft kiss against his chest. Choso beamed at you before you blazed a trail down his torso. You placed kisses across his jaw, down his neck, and into his collarbone. You bit gently on his full pec and paused just before his nipple.

“Is it okay?” you looked pointedly at him.

“Yes!” he nodded furiously. He was aching for you.

“Hm!” you hummed with delight and lowered your mouth to him. Your tongue rolled over the piercing, savoring the new sensation.

Choso squeezed his eyes shut as you tongued his sensitive nipple. Sweat was beading up on his nose and brow as you, knowingly or not, tortured him, pulling loud and strangled moans out of him. His large hands found purchase on your hips where you straddled him and he bucked up desperately against you, needing some sort of friction or relief.

You shivered slightly when you unlatched your mouth. It was surprising how much the sounds of Choso’s moans spurred you on.

“You. Are. So. Gorgeous.” you spoke as you placed more kisses against his serratus, lats, and abs. You nuzzled your nose against his happy trail as you pulled his sweatpants down over his hips.

Choso groaned when you grasped him at the base. You kissed your way up the underside before swallowing him into your wet, warm mouth. He was big. Your lips stretched around his girth as you sucked up and down his veiny length.

“Enough,” you were surprised when he pulled you off of him. “I need to be inside of you,” he explained.

You nodded, making quick work of your clothes. You climbed back on top of him and he positioned himself against your wet lips, spreading you apart with his fat head. You rested your forearms on his shoulders as you worked your hips, coating the dark head of his cock with your juices.

“Shitttt,” Choso groaned, deep and throaty as you teased him. “Please, I need more,” he begged.

“Yes,” you answered him simply and lowered yourself onto him completely. You moaned contentedly as he stretched you out.

Choso gripped your hips, helping as you bounced up and down his shaft. His eyes glazed over watching his cock disappear repeatedly into your juicy cunt and his hands gripped you so hard that they might bruise. He tugged you down over and over again, ramming himself into you deep and hard.

“Choso, baby,” you gasped, hands in his hair now for support as he fucked you. “I’m close. I’m so close, baby.”

Choso grinned at 'baby' and nodded, keeping the pace as your orgasm crashed through you. He found himself marveling at how gorgeous you looked as you came apart, bouncing on his cock for him.

“You good?” he asked as you recovered, still lodged deep inside of you.

“Really good,” you smiled at him, skin glowing with sweat. An idea popped into your head suddenly. “What are the chances you have a vibrator?” you asked coyly.

“Why?” he regarded you with suspicion.

“No reason,” you giggled, tracing his nipples with your fingertips gently. You were rewarded by a twitch of his cock, which was all the confirmation you needed.

“I don’t have one, sadly,” he shook his head, shuddering as you continued in little semicircles over his nipples. Your hips followed shortly, grinding against him and Choso’s breathing developed into ragged whimpers and moans.

“That’s okay,” you lapped at his other nipple with your tongue as his face got redder and redder.

“Fuckkk,” he cursed, high pitched and desperate as he grew somehow harder inside of you.

You increased speed slightly, circles tighter and faster against his pert nipples as you bounced on top of him. Choso buried his face into your neck before letting out a loud groan. He held you down on him, releasing deep inside with a few heavy twitches.

“Next time, come to mine,” you smiled mischievously at him. “I do have a vibrator.”

Choso let out a genuine chuckle before pulling you into his chest in a warm hug.

“Deal.”

#choso smut #choso x reader #choso fanfic #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #choso imagine #jjk imagine #choso fluff #serrated writing

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wholoveseggs · 6 months ago

Note

Hey lovely, today request from me🥰

I got struck on an idea where reader tried to dominate Elijah but always fail so, she get Klaus help with some magical witchy rope or something to subdue him, which was successful.

Tho here's the thing, reader is inexperienced in doing something like that and not prepped enough to take him, cuz y'know Elijah is big.. hehehe😌🤭so she started tear up, and ask for his help. Elijah being a smug he is punish her happily after...can you added a sprinkle of daddy kink and overstimulation, pretty puh-lease with the cherry on top🙏🥺

Oh btw your story always superb 🤩 😁

Bindings

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You ask Davina for help with creating something to tie up Elijah... only for you to get in way over your head. Luckily, he is in a forgiving mood.

♡♡ Thanks for the request anon! I decided to change it from Klaus to Davina, because I just can't see Klaus being okay with you essentially making a weapon against his family... Even if the reason behind it is just for some kinky fun ♡♡

4.9k words - Warnings: smut, *magical* bondage, dom!elijah, daddy!kink, spanking, choking, sex toys and a whole lotta praise...

You sat in Davina's greenhouse, looking around at all the various plants and flowers the young witch had collected. You had asked Davina to meet up with you to help with a problem, one that was a bit awkward to even say out loud, but you knew that she of all people would understand.

You watched her browse through her books, trying to find the spell you had requested. After a few moments, Davina had found the page and started gathering the items needed.

"Davina?" you said.

She looked up from the table and gave you a curious look. "Yeah?"

"You don't think this is a little crazy? I mean, it's a bit of a long shot."

Davina smiled. "Not at all. I may have.... tried it myself... with Kol," she replied, looking away with a light blush.

Your eyes went wide. "Oh, my God. It worked?"

She shrugged trying to appear cool, but her mischievous grin gave away her answer. You smiled back and the two of you quickly dissolved into a fit of giggles.

After the laughter had calmed down, you looked at her questioningly. "So, how does it work?"

Davina took a seat on the couch next to you and showed you the spell she had found.

"The basic binding is actually quite simple, it's the ingredients that are tricky," she explained, "luckily I have white oak ash, and the rest should be easy to find."

You nodded and listened intently as Davina read through the list of ingredients and their uses. She began by grinding the herbs and mixing them in a bowl, followed by the white oak ash.

Once the mixture was complete, Davina took a long silk rope that you had provided and dipped it in the bowl. She held the rope above the bowl, letting the excess liquid drip off as she chanted the incantation.

"Done," Davina announced, handing you the now-dry rope. "It will keep him bound and unable to break free. You can use it any way you'd like." She grinned, giving you a knowing look.

You couldn't believe how easy it had been, that you were so close to fulfilling a long-held fantasy of yours. "Thank you, Davina. You're the best," you said, pulling her into a hug.

She hugged you back, giggling as she pulled away. "One more thing, if you need to break the spell, just say 'confractus' and it will untie itself,"

You nodded, thanking her again before making your way home, the rope clutched tightly in your hand.

It was the most expensive piece of clothing you had ever purchased. It wasn't even something you could wear outside your bedroom, but damn, did it make you feel sexy.

The lingerie was a red, sheer babydoll dress with black lace trim, and it was paired with a matching thong and stockings. You had never worn anything so revealing before, but you knew Elijah would like it, and that was all that mattered.

You wanted to get him all worked up, break down the gentleman facade, make him want you so badly that he would do whatever you asked. You had been waiting for the right moment to try the rope Davina had created, and you were certain that tonight was the night.

You pulled a robe over your outfit, concealing it until the right moment. Then you sat back on your bed and texted Elijah.

"Are you free tonight?"

A few moments later, your phone vibrated.

"For you, always."

You grinned and quickly replied, "Come over."

He sent a thumbs up, and you tossed your phone aside, your nerves kept you from sitting still, and you spent the next ten minutes pacing anxiously around the room. When you finally heard a knock on the door, you jumped, startled by the sound. You took a deep breath and walked to the front of your apartment.

When you opened the door, you were greeted by a sight that made your mouth water. Elijah was dressed casually, in just a t-shirt and jeans, it was a rare sight, and one that had you practically drooling.

You stood there in silence for a moment, taking in the sight of him, until he cleared his throat and asked, "Can I come in?"

"Yes, sorry. Come in." You stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You let yourself melt into him, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around you.

"What's this for?" You asked, teasingly tugging on his t-shirt, your hands roaming across his broad chest. "Has your dry-cleaner gone and quit on you?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "I figured we would just have a quiet night in. No need for the formalities."

You nodded, your hands traveling down to his waist. You felt his body tense slightly when your fingers began to dance along the bare skin under the hem of his shirt.

"Well, I have a surprise for you," you said, looking up at him with a mischievous smile.

He raised an eyebrow and gave you a curious look. "A surprise? Well, now I'm intrigued."

You laughed and grabbed his hand, leading him to your bedroom. Once inside, you turned and faced him, taking a deep breath before you began to untie your robe. But then you stopped, looking at him with a naughty smirk.

"Take off your shirt," you ordered, your voice suddenly more confident.

He looked surprised by your words, but quickly obliged, pulling the t-shirt over his head and tossing it aside.

"Hmmm," you smiled as your eyes traveled down his body, appreciating his toned abs and muscular arms, lingering on where a trail of dark hair disappeared into his jeans. "Now the pants."

You watched as his hands moved to unbutton his jeans. He kept his gaze locked on you, his dark eyes filled with lust. Once the pants were undone, he slowly pushed them down, revealing his black boxer briefs and the outline of his half-hard cock.

Your mouth watered at the sight, but you knew this was just the beginning. As much as you wanted to rip his clothes off and fuck him senseless, you had a plan, and you were determined to stick to it.

"Get on the bed," you commanded, gesturing to the large mattress behind him.

He climbed onto the bed, sitting back against the pillows and watching you with curiosity. You untied the belt of your robe and let it fall open, revealing the sheer lingerie underneath.

Elijah's jaw dropped, his eyes widening as they traveled over your body.

"Do you like it?" You asked, teasingly running a finger along the edge of the lace trim.

He nodded, unable to speak, his cock already fully hard and straining against his underwear.

"Good, because I want you to do something for me," you said, your voice low and husky.

He nodded again, his gaze fixed on you.

"Take off your underwear and stroke your cock."

You watched him pull his boxer briefs down and wrap his large hand around his thick shaft, slowly stroking himself.

The sight of him pleasuring himself made your own arousal grow. You let your robe drop to the floor and climbed onto the bed, straddling his thighs.

He groaned, his eyes never leaving your body as he continued stroking his cock.

"Darling, you are a vision," he breathed, his voice deep and raspy with desire.

You felt heat pooling between your legs, your nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of your lingerie.

You leaned in and kissed him, your tongues battling for dominance as you moaned into his mouth. His other hand came up to grab your ass, pulling you closer.

He was breathing heavily, his eyes dark with lust.

"Touch yourself," he growled, his lips brushing against yours.

"No," you smirked, "I have something else in mind."

You reached over and picked up the rope, which you had placed within reach on the nightstand. You watched his eyes widen, his hand stopping its movements as he stared at the rope.

"Do you want me to tie you up?" He grinned, his hand starting to stroke his cock again.

"I have something else in mind," you repeated.

Elijah raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued.

"Hands up," you commanded, leaning back slightly to give him space.

He paused for a moment before lifting his arms above his head, resting them on the pillow behind him.

You brought the rope over his wrists, looping it around and tying them together. He chuckled, his eyes darkening as he realized what you were doing.

"I never took you for a bondage girl, darling."

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me," you replied, your tone playful as you pulled the rope tighter.

"Unfortunately I don't think this silk rope will hold me," he said, smirking as he tugged at the restraints.

You ignored him, continuing to tie his wrists to the headboard. Once you were satisfied with the knots, you sat back and admired your work, enjoying the way he looked helpless and at your mercy.

"Oh yeah?" You questioned, trailing a finger down his chest and abs, watching him shiver.

You slowly shrugged off one of the straps of your babydoll, letting the top slide down, exposing one breast.

His eyes fixated on your bare chest, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

"Mmmm," you hummed, rolling the hard bud between your fingers, teasing him. Then you did the same with the other strap, pushing the top down until your breasts were completely exposed.

Elijah let out a low moan, his cock twitching against his stomach.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful," he growled, his eyes burning with desire.

"Do you want to touch them daddy?" You cooed, running your hands up and down your breasts.

"Yes," he hissed, his hips bucking up involuntarily.

"Go ahead, tear the rope and touch me."

"Gladly."

He tugged at the rope, once, twice, three times. It didn't budge, much to his surprise.

"How the..." he started to say, looking up at the knotted rope.

"It's just a bit of magic," you smirked, your confidence growing as you watched him struggle.

You knew the ropes wouldn't hold him forever, but you planned on making the most of the time they did.

"Now, where were we?" You leaned forward, bringing your breasts close to his face.

He craned his neck up, trying to capture one of your nipples with his mouth, but you pulled away, denying him.

"Uh uh," you scolded, "You can look, but no touching."

You moved forward again, brushing your breast against his lips. He eagerly opened his mouth, trying to suck on the hardened peak, but you kept it just out of reach.

"I will be free soon enough, little one," he growled, his eyes locking onto yours, "and when I am, you're going to be punished for teasing me."

His words sent a thrill through you, but you remained calm, refusing to show him any signs of weakness.

"Oh yeah? What are you going to do, daddy?" You asked, taunting him as you rolled your hips, your wetness coating his skin.

He groaned at the sensation, his dark, lust-filled eyes watched as you began to touch his body, teasing and tormenting him.

You raked your nails down his chest and abs, earning a hiss of pleasure. You licked a hot stripe up his neck, biting his earlobe before moving to his lips. You kissed him roughly, your teeth grazing his lower lip, and he moaned, deepening the kiss.

Your hand went to his cock, stroking it slowly as he tried to buck his hips into your touch. You pulled back, smirking at him.

"You're not going to come until I say you can, understood?"

"Yes, my dear," he breathed, his eyes closing in pleasure as you tightened your grip on his shaft.

"Good boy."

You kissed him again, your tongues dancing together as you pumped his cock. He moaned into your mouth, his hips thrusting upwards, desperate for release.

You broke the kiss, looking down at him with a smirk. You couldn't wait any longer, you had to have him.

You positioned yourself over his throbbing member, lining him up with your entrance. You felt a flash of nervousness, not knowing how well you would be able to take him, but the excitement overrode the anxiety.

You lowered yourself down slowly, his thick cock stretching you open, filling you inch by inch.

"Fuck, Elijah," you moaned, burying your face into the crook of his neck, the feeling of him buried so deep, making your legs shake.

He hummed, his biceps straining against the rope as he struggled to break free. You placed your hands on his chest, using him as leverage as you began to ride him.

You knew right away that you were in trouble. Usually Elijah would take the lead, getting you all wet and worked up, he always took his time, and the pleasure he brought was slow and delicious.

But this, being on top and having all the control, was something you hadn't experienced before. It was intense, and you weren't sure if you could handle it.

Your thighs were burning as you lifted yourself up and down, but you were determined to keep going. Your eyes met his and the sight of his pupils blown wide with desire was enough encouragement for you to continue.

You rode him faster, your breath coming in short gasps. You were getting close, so close, but it was somehow all too much and not enough. You didn't think it would be this much work, and you could feel your energy waning.

It was a terrible feeling, finally getting what you wanted and being disappointed by it. You had been so confident, but now your thighs were burning and you were struggling to keep up a steady rhythm.

You looked at the ropes, seeing that they were still secure. There was no way you would be able to finish this yourself. You were going to need help.

"Eli," you whimpered, your nails digging into his chest.

"Yes, my dear," he groaned.

"I-I'm not sure... If I can keep going," you admitted, panting as you struggled to continue, a frustrated tear rolling down your cheek.

"Well, I'm still quite enjoying myself. You look absolutely exquisite like this," he teased, his eyes roaming your body.

"Elijah," you whined, "please. I-I can't."

He gave you a knowing smirk. "If you can't keep up, maybe I should be the one in charge."

"Please," you begged, your face flushing as the humiliation of being denied what you wanted so badly washed over you.

"You created this problem for yourself, little one," he reminded, "but luckily, I'm in a giving mood."

You nodded, grateful that he was willing to help you, even if he did enjoy teasing you about it. You reached up and undid the knots, releasing his hands from their restraints.

As soon as his hands were free, Elijah gripped your hips, flipping you over so he was on top. You yelped in surprise, the sudden change in position leaving you breathless.

"You are such a good girl," he praised, his voice husky with desire. "So eager to please."

He kissed you hungrily, his hands exploring your body, his fingers tugging at the hem of your lingerie.

"And this," he murmured against your lips, "is very pretty. But I'm afraid I'm going to have to tear it."

Before you could protest, he ripped the babydoll in half, exposing your entire body to him. He tossed the torn fabric aside, his dark eyes roaming your naked form.

"But it was expensive," you half-protested, even though you were throbbing at the gesture of dominance and disregard.

He growled and pinched your nipple, earning a sharp gasp, then he soothed it with a swirl of his tongue, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"How much did that little magical rope cost you?"

You shuddered, already realizing this was the price you had to pay. You knew he would punish you for this stunt and it turned you on more.

"N-nothing, it was a favor from a friend," you muttered.

He didn't like the vagueness of your answer and took the rope and tied it around your wrists as he started kissing you again, your tongue clashing with his, while his large hand roamed your body, tweaking your nipples, earning a soft moan, and then traveling down south, running his fingertips along your skin, teasing and tickling you softly.

"You are going to do exactly as I say now, understood?" he mumbled against your skin.

"Y-Yes, Daddy," you whined, already desperately bucking against his hand.

Elijah released you, flipping you onto your stomach and dragging you to the head of the bed, tying the rope to the headboard so your arms are stretched high over your head. You were on your knees, and completely under his power.

You heard him rummaging around in his dresser and your heart began beating quickly from nervousness and excitement.

He kissed the back of your neck, the heat of his body warming you, and causing goosebumps to cover your skin. The smell of his cologne wrapped around you and you instinctively arched into his embrace.

"My sweet pet, are you ready to be punished?" he asked as he held one of his ties in front of your face, "Do you have a safe word?"

Your mind raced as he put the tie over your eyes. You quickly selected a word, just in case you needed it, though you sincerely doubted that would happen. Even when he was dominant like this, he always put your pleasure first, but you wanted him to believe you were scared.

"Coffee."

"Excellent," he replied as the smooth fabric was tied tightly around your head.

You tried to lean forward but couldn't move an inch with the rope around your wrists. This rope has successfully restrained Elijah, there was no way you were getting free until he cut you loose.

"I must say… that magic rope is quite a dangerous weapon, a threat to my family." He whispered against your ear, a hint of danger in his voice, sending an excited tingle through you.

You suddenly felt his strong hand wrap tightly around your neck. He wasn't squeezing yet but he was definitely letting you know who's in charge.

"You and I both know how I handle threats to my family," he said, pressing a kiss against your neck.

A moan escaped your lips and you could hear him chuckle. You were so wound up, you weren't sure how long you could take this.

"Stay quiet," Elijah commanded.

As if in punishment, he withdrew his hand from your throat, and you almost immediately missed the feeling of his warm hand against you. A sudden slap to your ass made your body jolt.

It burned from the force of it, his large, powerful palm practically covering your entire cheek. Every sensation was heightened by the tie around your eyes and you felt your whole body heating up, your blood rushing in anticipation of what was to come.

He hit you again, on the same cheek, harder than the last time. The sound of his hand hitting your flesh seemed to fill the room. Tears pooled in your covered eyes, the burning sensation making your body hum in pleasure, mixed with a bit of pain.

You weren't sure if you could handle one more of his heavy-handed swats. Your arms hurt from being pulled high above your head, and your wrists were already chafing.

You heard him reach into your night stand, searching for something that would bring you a different kind of pain. He found what he was looking for, trailing it down your spine. It was cold and smooth, and it made your stomach drop when you realized what it was.

"Eli- wait," you protested, none of this night was going to plan, but this? You had fantasized about it, sure, but this was-

Your mind went blank when he pushed it inside you, and without mercy, he switched it on. It buzzed to life and the sudden onslaught of the vibrations made your legs shake uncontrollably, your wrists burning slightly as you pulled on them.

It was like you were filled with electricity. And the noises you were making? They were a mix of moans and pleas for release, your body already nearing its limit.

His hand was gone, no more spanking and yet- the buzzing didn't stop, you had no release in sight and that's when you realized your mistake. He wasn't going to let you finish, the intention to drive you near your peak only to take you back down.

It was torture.

And you were absolutely loving it.

The minutes seem to tick by, maybe hours. Who knows anymore. All you're aware of is your trembling thighs, sweat glistening your back and your voice, cracking slightly as you scream and moan, writhing at the touch of his hand, then the hard buzzing once again.

"Hmm, we've never tried this setting before," he mused.

"Please Eli-"

He increased the intensity, a loud buzz echoing the room, and a series of vulgar curses escaping your lips, making him laugh.

The vibrator inside you was now pulsing at a rapid pace, the pleasure blinding, building, and there's nothing you can do to prevent the inevitable.

"Don't you dare come," he ordered.

"I can't-" you began, already starting to crumble under his control.

He gave the end of the vibrator a small twist and it hit a new spot that was pure euphoria. You tried to hold on, but it was impossible, your vision went white as an orgasm rocked through you, stealing your breath away, and all of the pent up tension that was burning in the depths of your core.

You let out an ecstasy-laced scream, every fiber in you igniting, every nerve firing at once as an immense surge of pleasure washed through your trembling body, shaking you to the core.

In that moment there was only bliss. The kind of sweet bliss that washes over your exhausted form, turning your limbs to rubber and melting your insides.

Your wrists ached, and you expected Elijah to untie you, but he had gone perfectly still behind you. Your heart began to race, suddenly filled with worry about whether he had become angered by your release. You honestly couldn't undergo another round of his erotic torture and live through it.

The silence and inaction was far worse than any punishment and you felt fear creep up your neck. Suddenly the vibrator turned back on at the max setting and his hand came down hard on your ass once again, leaving it stinging and burning, and tears brimming your lids, even as your body reacted with arousal.

You weren't even sure if your wrists could survive another round and it didn't help that the orgasm had made you sensitive to the point of numbness, but you can already feel your legs shaking, threatening to buckle underneath your exhausted form.

"Daddy, please I can't. I'll pass-" you started, the warning cut off with another slap.

You couldn't do it anymore, your wrists hurt more than the spanking. You remembered Davina had said that the rope could be undone with one word from you. Just as another spank was about to rain down, you rasped out 'confractus' and the rope fell off your wrists. You didn't waste a second, the moment you felt your hands free, you were tugging the blindfold down and pulling the vibrator out of you, tossing it across the bed and collapsing.

Elijah looked a bit shocked by your sudden escape, but that didn't stop him. With you no longer held in the bindings, he took it as another reason to keep punishing you and he grabbed your hips and pulled you underneath him.

His eyes were hard and wild, almost black, and his lips were curled up in a delicious smirk as he locked eyes with yours. The blindfold was held tight against your neck with one hand, keeping the pressure just enough to cause slight discomfort.

But then his eyes flicked to your wrists and the damage that had been done. The burns were deep, almost red and his demeanor changed instantly. His expression went soft, filled with remorse, but his dark, lust-filled eyes didn't change, still heated and primal, and needing release.

"I sometimes forget how delicate you are," he said softly, taking one of your wrists into his hand and giving a gentle kiss.

You flinched a little from the sting of it, watching his apology fill his eyes. You knew his guilt and self loathing was about to start, but before he could pull away, you reached up and grabbed the back of his neck and smashed your lips against his.

"I love when you get like this Eli," you admitted as the kiss broke, "Punishing me, fucking me, owning me. So don't start beating yourself up."

His response was an immediate hot sigh against your lips, relieved that he didn't hurt you.

"You do like the attention, do you?" he teased lightly, nuzzling your nose.

You nod, giving another kiss to the tip of his nose. "Always, but can you make this punishment worth it? It better end in a long, hot shower together or I might pass out," you whispered with a cheeky smile.

His shoulders shook from a silent laugh and his arms moved to either side of your face, caging you in with his warm presence, and you couldn't help the blush that spread through your cheeks as the emotion on his face flickered between the self-hating Elijah to the sweet one that you were in love with.

He ran his hand down your leg, then he lifted your thigh and held it against his hip and slowly, gently eased himself inside you. His lips were inches from and you couldn't look away. His eyes had softened now, and your heart melted at the devotion in them, only meant for you.

He slid his hand to the back of your neck as you clung to his shoulder, meeting him thrust for thrust as the pace gradually quickened. Your toes curled as waves of pleasure washed over you, but you held on this time, waiting for his permission, wanting to find release together.

His lips caressed your neck, his breathing ragged, and his movements became more erratic as his own control began to slip. The low, animalistic sounds rumbling in his chest nearly set you off, but somehow you managed to hang on.

Your mind is a fog, filled with everything Elijah; his smell, his warmth, the feeling of his skin against yours, the sound of his heavy breath, his low voice in your ear, his hips moving in a perfect tempo. It was overwhelming, dizzying, and intoxicating. You weren't sure how much longer you could hold out, especially with the way he was whispering your name like a prayer.

Your legs began to tremble again, Elijah knew you were close, and you were being so good for him. He could see the effort your restraint required in the furrow of your brow and the desperation in your eyes, he saw it in the twitching of your fingers and he felt the small spams from the place the two of you are joined.

"You've been such a good girl, come for me sweetheart," he cooed, nipping at your ear.

You closed your eyes and threw your head back. It felt like the earth beneath you cracked open and molten pleasure coursed through your veins, pouring into every cell and nerve, bathing you in absolute bliss.

Elijah kept rocking, dragging out your orgasm and making his own release finally explode throughout every part of him. As the both of you shook from pleasure, he didn't stop kissing you, kissing your cheeks, neck, and nose as the both of you tried to calm down. You clung to his biceps, relishing his touch, trying to calm down your raging heartbeat.

He released you and flipped onto his back, tugging you along, and making sure that you stayed close. You cuddled into his side, giving his chest small, gentle kisses.

He took your wrist, seeing the faint redness where the rope had burned your skin and gave it another tender kiss.

"Don't tell Klaus about the rope, he would not be very pleased to know you and Davina are making weapons behind his back, love."

You snorted and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, "how did you know it was Davina?"

He chuckled and rested his chin on the top of your head.

"Call it an educated guess," he teased and his hand playfully smacked your butt.

You both gave out a little chuckle before falling back into a comfortable silence. Your body had officially given out on you and exhaustion had taken over your form.

Elijah lifted you up out of bed and brought you to the shower, making sure that you were clean of any sticky sweat or traces of what had gone down moments ago. He wrapped his strong arms around you once you were dressed and both cleaned, bringing the covers around both of your bodies before kissing your forehead, and drifting off to sleep, holding you possessively against him.

This night didn't go as you planned, but you did not regret a thing.

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I've gotten a few dm's about my tags not working (yay) so let me know if its still a problem, I just re-tagged all of you so hopefully that solved it ♡

(It may be the hearts causing the issue but I don't want that to be true, so I am in denial)

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #davina claire #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine #smut

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chaosandmarigolds · 6 months ago

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you can skip this all u want but

I wanna know abt readers ex ngl

why does Ollie have attachment issues?

you seem like you could do soft angst, 👻

(I audibly giggled like a maniac when I opened this, because angst has my heart. it has my HEART- only when it ends in fluff tho, otherwise someone might as well just shove me in a ditch it feels the same- ahem, sorry, got sidetracked)

Let’s do a lil flashback and backstory to this whole…debacle shall we?

May 20th

“Annnn then we got get- got get, noo-no! Ister Riley no,” Ollie grumbles as he reaches over the block castle he had spent the last twenty minutes building to grab the toy Simon was holding- a tyrannosaurus, or as Ollie called him- The Superman. The little boy fixes the doll cape attached to the toy and then holds it back out, “Otay, is fix.”

Simon nods, “Good good, he needs to have his-his-“

“The cape gives him powers.”

“Oh!” Simon agrees and looks at the worn out toy, the cape like it would be found on an actual Superman toy but put on a dinosaur. He only looks back to Ollie as the boy goes on about grabbing the rest of the toys he thought they should have.

“Yeah, that what my daddy tell me. That-that my superhero cape make me have superpowers.” A short silence and he sets the toy fire truck down along with a tow truck, “It no give me power, but it does for Bo though.”

(Bo, the name of the T-Rex.)

Simon looks at the boy, watching his demeanor change and he holds how the toy, “‘ell your dad was right, Bo does have some super cool powers.”

To that Ollie takes the toy and then shrugs, “I guess. But my dad- he-he lies and you say lying is not good.”

“Ladd I’m sure your dad didn’t lie,” Simon returned, it was just a toy, and he couldn’t see the harm in letting a three year old believe in superpowers for his plastic T-Rex.

Ollie shakes his head, “But he do! He said he come back for-for my birthday and no come, he didn’t-he lie.”

“Oi, Olls, ‘m sure your dad wanted to come, he just couldn’t-

“My mom doesn’t like him anymore, I heard her talk to my Auntie Beth and she said my dad is lair and mean- so that mean he not good.”

Simon, upon a lot of other things, realized that little kids really did share anything that came to their mind. and that he should definitely do some more research.

July 2nd

“It is-“ you laugh out a sigh as you stumble into the entrance of Simon’s house, having left your umbrella outside, “Raining cats and dogs out there!”

Almost as it had fallen into some odd and domestic pattern, he helped you take off the coat and hang it off without much speaking and you then look to him as you take off your boots, “Thank you for watching him later, I didn’t know I would be working a double and it-“

“No problem, darling. Lil’ guy was out by seven.” He cut you off and hung up the coat beside Ollie’s on the rack, which hung beside his own, “You go’ dinner al’eady?”

You hum and stand back up, “Are you offering?”

“Aren’t I always?”

Dinner was a delicacy of dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets and oven cooked fries, matched with a hearty portion of sprite. And about an hour of what you would consider you yapping about your crappy day, and what he would consider it favorite part of the day- you finally faltered, leaning on the dinner table with a dull and lifeless laugh.

“I feel like…I owe you, god, I owe you my life or something.”

He furrows his eyebrows to that, “No’ why? ‘M no doing anything special.”

You give him a look, “Free babysitting for one. Not to mention the rides, you-you pay for him to go to soccer, and you go to the games and you buy him clothes and you love him and you care for him and-“ you cut yourself off and look up to stop the tears- which were threatening to flow, shaking your head, “I’m sorry. I’m…it’s just- no, it’s just been a day.”

Now, Simon was many things, a merciless killer and a solider was one of them but he always knew how to read body language. What really gave it away was how you messed with your ring finger, as if you were twisting a nonexistent ring, “What’s today?”

A glance up to him and you give a dull laugh, almost mocking yourself with your words, “I got married five years ago today. Wore the pretty dress and said ‘I do’ to a man that was a piece of shit but damn….i loved him. I did. I loved him so- and I’m, god, Simon you gotta tell me to shut up sometimes.”

He looks at you, and he knew you couldn’t read him, but there was sadness etched in his expression, “I never want you to shut up, luv.”

( That’s all the backstory you get for right now! Aka, I am doing this on my phone and my thumbs hurt…and all I’ve thought of rn- comments, feedback, and your ideas make my day!! Annnnyway that’s it! <33)

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strlingsav · 2 years ago

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hear me out: team 141& female reader go to the bar post successful mission, everyone's a lil too drunk, she makes a move on ghost but he's like "ok uve had too much" (I dnt think he's rly drunk tho) and he brings her back to his room to take care of her, but hes like wait "I've always wanted you" THEN THE HOT AND STEAMY STUFF *ofc it's all consensual*

Ohhhhhhh yes, right up my alley 👀

Always

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Your Lieutenant confesses his feelings.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

It wasn't your idea to go out; it was never anyone but Soap that always suggested a pint at the bar around the corner. A run-down dive bar across the street from the base, where every soldier knew it was the best place for cheap drinks and entertainment.

It was the kind of place that belonged to the coarse, gruff men that chain-smoked and didn't want to go home sober. The kind that kept their eyes on you as you wandered in, before turning their interest back to the beer in front of them.

You shared a table with the squad. You were a bit hesitant to join them after hearing the stories Soap told about the place. The time he nearly had a dart thrown in his chest during a drunken game, or when he'd lost a lot of money during a pool match. Nonetheless, you'd been convinced, citing something like, "one time can't hurt".

It was filled with cigarette smoke, classic-rock, and the heavy smell of beer. Price lit up a cigar, puffing on it from the far end of the table. He seemed to enjoy the music and beer, not paying much attention to the ongoing conversation between you. Gaz and Soap had been ragging on each other, Ghost joining in when he felt it necessary.

Soap was already a few drinks in, pressuring you to keep up with him. You could, and did, though you knew you'd have to walk back afterward and thoroughly regretted the three you'd already had.

Ghost sat beside you, a hand around his glass of bourbon, quietly surveying the conversation, chiming in with a scoff or witty comment about Soap's intelligence every so often.

"You are not a Scotsman," You shook your head, watching the drunken man nod his head along to the guitar and drums from the speakers.

"Piss off," He sneered. "What are you on about?"

"You can't hold your liquor," You said back, leaning forward with a smug grin.

"And you can? I'm drinkin' you under the table."

"We're even," You rolled your eyes, sitting back. "'Sides, I'm savouring it."

"Shite's gettin' warm in your hand!" He exclaimed.

You narrowed your eyes, shooting the last of your beer back.

"Let's do a few shots, then. And grab me another beer."

His eyes lit up, a smirk on his face. "Now you're talkin' kid." He shuffled out of his seat, stumbling every so slightly as he headed toward the bar.

"He won't stop 'til he's ahead of ya," Ghost said, leaning into your ear.

You shivered. The timbre of his voice in your ear brought goosebumps to the surface of your skin. Looking over at him, you furrowed your brows, inspecting his eyes. Dark and void, no flecks of any other colour to be seen. They were deep and mesmerizing, a black hole ready to suck you in. You noticed you'd been staring longer than normal, pursing your lips before shifting your gaze.

"I know," You were distracted now with the image of Soap, carrying four shot glasses filled with a mysterious liquid. "It's fun to see him try though."

"More entertainin' watchin' him act like a git."

You grinned.

Price then announced he was heading out, mumbling, "I ain't in the mood for watchin' you drunks all night."

You'd bid him good night, but not before trying to convince him to stay. He'd resigned himself to a night in, drinking his expensive liquor, puffing his cigar in the privacy of his own office. He left with a short goodbye, warning the rest of you not to get out of control.

Soap set the shots down, handing you yours with a polite smile.

"Think we should cheers," He said, sitting down. His speech was now obviously slurring. "To another fuckin' mission finished, and to gettin' back home, away from you fuckers."

You shrugged, colliding your glass with his, before tipping it back and letting it slide down your throat. You shut your eyes, swallowing harshly, nearly choking on the burn in your chest.

"Jesus," You were hoarse, a strangled sound leaving your lips. You recognized the flavour of the drink- vodka. "Nasty."

You sat back, your eyes scanning the bar. It was getting harder to see straight- ghost trails and lazy blinks disrupting your vision. A deep breath in did nothing to clear your head, but damn did it feel good.

"Here," He handed you the second.

You hadn't quite recovered from the first, still feeling it sitting in your throat. Your ribs shifted with a heavy inhale, desperately trying to swallow the liquid fire. Your eyes landed on Soap, an amused grin across his face, though you'd already gulped down the shot before he could say anything.

He chased his shot with the beer in front of him, a grimace across his face- the same as yours. It hit you within a few minutes, only exacerbating the way everything seemed to blur together.

It felt great. Fucking great, to drink, relax, unwind. Have fun, for the first time in months. Dress in something other than fatigues and twenty pounds of equipment. To shower and brush your teeth with running water. You'd finally de-tangled your hair, appreciated the sweet smell of deodorant, worn makeup. You were reminded of it by Gaz, when he commented that your face looked "different" from the usual.

Your head turned, catching Ghost's eyes on the way by, and you smiled softly. It was unintentional, nearly uncontrollable at this point in the evening. He averted his gaze.

You'd always thought highly of him, respected him. You had to. But the causal dress brought out a different side of him, a side that had a sense of humour and didn't mind listening to the back and forth between yourself and Soap. A side you wouldn't mind seeing more often. He wasn't just your Lieutenant now, and your drunken self had taken note of that.

You squinted, trying to imagine the face beneath the mask. His eyes were alluring on their own, and your cheeks flushed at the thought of just how handsome he probably was.

You'd let your guard down, after so long of denying the fact that you were attracted to him, you'd admitted it to yourself. You knew you were digging yourself into a hole, unsure how you'd function while working with him, how you'd ever leave the attraction behind and behave in a strictly professional manner.

It was more difficult to think about drunk than it was while sober. While sober, you could pretend his voice didn't awaken a thrumming in your chest, or that you definitely didn't like the way his fatigues fit his body. But drunk- it was a different story. You'd had your eyes all over him, uncaring and indifferent to whether he noticed or not.

It came with urgency, a giggle bubbling up before you could stop it. It was just another urge you couldn't quite hold in. You'd been studying him, and only when he turned to you, did you realize it. You'd been caught.

"What's funny?" He asked, raising a brow.

You waved your hand, trying to dismiss his question, nearly knocking your empty beer bottle off the table. You caught it with a clumsy hand, pushing it out of reach and clutching your full drink to your chest.

"Lightweight," Soap announced, the usual shit-eating grin on his face.

"Fuck off, Johnny."

"You're a mean drunk, kid."

"I'm not drunk." You noticed that your own speech was slurring now. Your mouth particularly difficult to control, short bursts of giggles exploding without warning. "Okay," You nodded slowly. "Just a bit."

Soap laughed, a loud, boisterous laugh that made you wince. He'd also indulged a bit too much, his cockiness making an unexpected appearance.

"Let's win us a game of pool," Soap said, turning to Gaz.

"I'm not giving you any money," Gaz answered, following close behind as the two made their way to the tables.

You sighed heavily, relishing in the feeling of not being in control. Letting go, falling into the drunken stupor you'd gotten yourself into. It was cathartic. Especially after a gruelling mission.

You turned your attention to Ghost, your head tilting up to look at him.

"Just you and me, Loot," You pursed your lips. "Tell me your war stories."

"Don't have any interesting enough." He took another sip, his lips wet with liquor. You could hardly tear your eyes away.

"Bullshit," You grinned.

He shrugged it off, licking the leftover liquid from his mouth. You'd see his lips before, seen the stubble that lined his chin. You knew he was handsome.

"You should take off the mask," You said, still very intrigued.

"Why's that?" He asked, his gaze flickering between your lips and eyes.

"You're handsome. Not sure why you hide it," You popped a cashew in your mouth from the communal bowl on the table.

"I know. That ain't why I wear it," He said. His eyes fell to the cashews in your hand. "Shouldn't eat those."

You stopped your chewing, furrowing your brows as you set the remaining cashews back in the bowl. He was right; by the looks of it they were old- you hadn't noticed with the blurry haze of liquor distorting your vision.

"Always looking out," You grinned sheepishly. "It's alright to take a night off."

"Not when you're pissed," He commented.

You scowled, "I'm not pissed- I'm tipsy. At the most, a bit drunk." Your tone was harsher than intended.

"You're pissed," He nodded.

"You're deflecting. We were talking about how handsome you are."

"No we weren't," He said, swallowing another gulp.

"Okay," You sighed. Admittedly, it was taking a lot of brain power to follow the conversation. "I was talking about it."

He nodded. "You usually so irritatin' when you're in the bag?"

"Are you usually such a prude?" You snapped.

He shook his head, hiding the grin on his lips with a sip from his glass. You were far too drunk to notice. You wondered if maybe you were a mean drunk, suddenly feeling irrationally guilty for talking to your lieutenant that way.

"I'm sorry," You sighed, desperately wanting to lay your head down on the table, bury your face in your arms and hide your embarrassment.

"It's nothin'." He looked amused.

"I'm sure you're not a prude," You said, eyes wide with concern.

"Far from it."

You raised your brows, suddenly intrigued. Sitting up straight, you shifted to face him entirely.

"I've never seen that side of you."

"No reason to."

"I mean," You swallowed the cold beer, setting it down before staring up at him with narrowed eyes. "I could give you a reason."

Your focus was unrelenting as you scanned his face, searching for any hint of an interested expression. He was unreadable- likely due to the liquor in your bloodstream- and it frustrated you. Now, deeply under the influence, you were irritated and aroused.

"Don't think you know what you're sayin'," His eyebrows dipped in, an unimpressed expression in his eyes.

He'd never seen you in your civilian clothes, or with lipstick on. His mouth had gone dry when he first saw you walk into the bar, not surprising given the tightness in his chest anytime you'd brush past him, compliment him, even say his name. It was unavoidable, especially now, watching you lean in, your inhibitions lowered.

He felt his blood run cold, warmth settling in his groin when your eyes lazily flipped over to look at him, your hand under your chin. You had a coy smile on your face, like you didn't know exactly what you did to him, and he'd be a damn liar if he didn't admit it turned him on even more.

"I know exactly what I'm saying." Your eyes narrowed at him, a short huff of amusement leaving your nose.

He wanted to believe it was true; he'd been around enough drunken soldiers to know that whatever was said usually had some truth to it. He just couldn't imagine a woman like yourself wanting to be attached to a person like him. You were too good; too righteous. Too loyal, trusting. Sometimes it drove him crazy, other times he cherished how much faith you put in him.

"Think you've had enough for the night."

He finished his drink, setting it down. He licked his lips.

"Maybe," You nodded.

Your head was fuzzy, and it was hard to see straight. Reasonably, you knew it was time to call it. You'd pay for it in the morning if you didn't.

"C'mon," He said, nodding his head, urging you to step out of the booth. "We'll head back to base."

You didn't fight him. Your hand reached the table for support as you stood up, missing the empty beer bottle by an inch. Ghost grabbed your arm, an innocent touch that your drunken state turned into something more; a premonition.

You turned back to look at him, a coy smile- even drunk, you were a bit embarrassed to be so clumsy in front of your Lieutenant.

Your arm wrapped around Ghost's as you headed out of the bar, discretely feeling the hard bicep that was hidden beneath the black jacket he was wearing. You squeezed gently, hoping he wouldn't feel your groping. He knew, he could feel your fingers moving, the heat of your palm over his arm. He couldn't help but look over at you, an expression of bliss on your face, eyes half shut.

You made small talk, the night air sobering you up a bit as you wandered across the street. The flickering streetlights made him look even more intimidating than usual, casting a shadow over his eyes, his tall form towering over you. You were aware now of just how close you were to him; you were surprised he'd let you hold his arm, but glad he did. You were somewhat afraid you'd wander off and end up sleeping in a ditch, but mostly you liked how warm he was, how good he felt under your hand.

You knew when he walked you inside that it wasn't the direction of your bunk.

"I'm over there," You pointed.

"You're stayin' with me," He said resolutely. "Can't have you chokin' on your own vomit."

You frowned, "Fair point."

As he let you into his quarters, you were overwhelmed with just how much it smelled like him. A bit of vanilla, cedar, cigarettes. It was almost suffocating, seeping into your senses until you were filled only by him. It was intimate, breathing the same air he lived in. He'd allowed you inside, allowed you to see his most personal space. You took a deep breath at the overwhelming revelation.

Your eyes scanned the room, cataloguing the belongings inside. There weren't many personal items; no photographs or books. Hardly any evidence that he lived there. It was barren, aside from the furniture. You knew him, knew he didn't live like you did. He didn't have family back home that waited for him with loving arms and smiles. He had no reason to frame photos of the people he had loved before.

You stood in the centre of the room, still taking in the environment, sobering up even more when he appeared with a T-shirt and water bottle in hand.

"Here," He said, holding them out to you.

"Is that yours?" You asked, looking over the T-shirt.

He nodded.

You were flustered now, the drunkenness having mostly worn off, your demeanour did a one-eighty once you realized where you'd ended up. Your Lieutenant's room, alone. It was the perfect opportunity to take advantage of, to confess to every single thing you'd ever thought about him. But you couldn't blame it on being drunk anymore, not when you could feel the embarrassment of what you'd said earlier, and mostly regretted it.

"Thank you."

"Y'can change in there," He nodded his head in the direction of the bathroom.

You did, discarding your jacket, shirt and pants. You slid the shirt over your head. It reached the middle of your thighs, a comical look that made you smile at yourself in the mirror. You chugged the water bottle and pulled your hair from your face before leaving the bathroom.

His eyes landed on you, his heart picking in his chest up when he saw you wearing nothing but his shirt. Relaxed, like you were home. It was undeniably arousing. Like you were branded, marked by him. He tried to ignore it, ignore the way your bare feet across his floor sounded so comforting, the way you so willingly wore his clothes, thought nothing of wearing your damn panties around him. He felt something primal clawing at his chest, scratching its way up his throat.

"How you feelin'?" He asked, settling for a nonchalant question, something innocent so you wouldn't suspect he was practically trembling with desire, to touch you- taste you. He took a seat in the chair across the room.

You stepped over to the bed, sitting down on the edge.

"Mostly sober," You breathed out, a small smile on your face. "Sorry, if I said anything out of line."

He nodded; no answer, a nerve-racking response on its own, but his eyes avoided yours. You pushed past the topic, not wanting to dwell on the actions of your drunken self.

"I can sleep on the floor, if you have an extra blanket?" You offered.

He shook his head, "Take the bed. Don't sleep much anyways."

"Why not?" You asked.

"Never have. Too much goin' on in my head."

"Stop thinking for once," You teased.

He inhaled, still slightly distracted by the sight of you, your bare thighs, the shirt inching up as you moved up the bed.

"If only," He replied.

"What keeps you up at night, L.T.?" You asked, a grin of amusement on your face.

You, he wanted to say. You, and your fucking smile. The cadence of your voice, the feeling in his gut he got whenever he felt you next to him, watched you when you weren't looking.

"Paperwork," He teased- though his face showed no evidence of a joke.

You were quiet for a minute, shifting your gaze around the room before returning to his eyes. You smiled, changing the topic again when you concluded he really didn't want to talk about it.

"Thanks for taking care of me tonight."

"You're my responsibility."

Your heart sunk to the pit of your stomach; had he felt responsible for you? Had he only let you cling to him out of obligation? Given you his shirt because it was his duty?

"Oh," You nodded. Your voice was weak, but you tried to hide your disappointment behind a small smile. "Always watching out."

"For you, yeah."

Your gaze narrowed. You wondered if you were still drunk, reading too much into his words, putting meaning where there was none. He sat forward in his seat, attentive, unwavering.

You tilted your head, hoping it would give you an alternative angle to follow, a new lead into the words he'd said. With no success, you leaned back on your hands, ready to interrogate him.

"You don't have to do that," You said, prodding for more. Something substantial, something tangible to sink your teeth into. Some ground to stand on so you could tell how he really felt. "Watch out for me all the time. Especially off duty."

"Can't help it," He said. It was quiet, almost unnoticeable except you'd seen his shoulders tense.

"Why?"

He stood to his feet, and your stomach lurched. He was slow, calculating in his steps, moving closer by the second.

"Think you know."

He stopped before you, his gaze so impenetrable you almost couldn't meet his eyes. His fingers reached up, his knuckles skimming the soft surface of your cheek. You shut your eyes, an inadvertent reaction to the rough feel of his fingers. Your skin was flushed, reddened with the rush of blood your heart was pushing to every nerve.

"Because I'm a liability?" You teased, desperately wanting to ease the tension, to appear unaffected by his words, even though your arms had weakened, every bone turning to liquid inside you. You struggled to keep his gaze, to hold yourself up when he was so domineering, standing tall above you.

His eyes honed in on your lips, giving a small shake of his head. "'Cause I've always wanted you."

You inhaled deeply. It stunned you, to say the least. You'd never seen any hint of attraction from him. He was stoic and unreadable, always. But now, he bore his soul to you. Extending an offer that you were too weak to decline. The room stood still, soft exhales and invisible strain sitting in the air.

You finally met his gaze, cheeks tinged red, an exhale of relief. It was a weight off your shoulders, not having to hide anymore. Knowing he felt exactly the same.

"You've always had me, Lieutenant." You stood to your feet, your head barely meeting his shoulder, but you felt powerful, invigorated with a rush of desire.

He hummed, short, acknowledging, satisfied.

His hand moved from the apple of your cheek to the curve of your waist. His hold was strong and warm, comforting, in a way that made you shiver. A twitch in your body made him chuckle, a deep and inviting sound, that offered no relief of the chill running through your spine.

You couldn't count how many times you'd wished he'd touch you. Intentionally or not, you didn't care, you craved it. You craved the sensation, the heavy pour of molten heat that settled in every bone. The ache between your thighs, never satiated by your own hands, leaving your body to the mercy of your mind, begging and pleading for relief by some measure.

"You still drunk?" He asked, quiet and low.

You shook your head, eyes piercing his gaze with ferocity, a never ending commitment. You couldn't be drunk; not with how obvious it was that his hand was on your waist, clinging to you tightly like he'd lose you if he didn't. Your senses were sharper than they'd ever been, especially with him standing before you.

He pulled the fabric of his mask over his head, freeing his face before you. It was a sight to behold, a moment you wanted to seal in your mind and look back on for years to come. You couldn't help your teeth chewing at your lip, biting back the urge to stand on your toes and kiss him, kiss the lips you'd seen a handful of times but never complemented by his other features. He was handsome. Even more than you'd imagined; a composite of Adonis, embodiment of Ares.

He did your bidding for you, leaning over your shorter frame to bring his lips closer to yours. He waited a moment, wanting to be sure you knew exactly what he intended, what he wanted. You grew tired of the torment, and met him halfway.

He groaned; low and harsh. He absolved you of any responsibility, taking over as he tugged you into his chest. He was a towering figure above you, your neck aching as you reached up to meet his mouth. Your hands lifted to his waist, a gentle hold, still apprehensive. You'd never touched him before, never been able to glide your hands across his sides and envelop him in your arms. It felt right.

In response, his palm reached your cheek, fingers splaying out over your jaw. It was a bit rougher, more motivated. He slipped his tongue in your mouth at the same time, his heavy exhales fanning across your face. He was warm, feverish against you, his body entirely consumed with greed.

He tasted sweet, like caramel and the bitter aftertaste of alcohol still on his tongue. You hummed softly against his mouth, relishing in the moment; your bodies pressed together, lips connected fervidly, hands exploring the expanse of his torso. Your fingers slid down his abdomen, and he pulled back, still holding onto you.

"Y'look good in my shirt."

A slow, smug smile spread over your lips. "Shame you'll have to take it off me," You whispered.

You stood on your toes, pressing your lips to his again. It was an addictive rush, every time you felt the way he pulled you in, the softness in his lips.

He wrapped an arm around your waist, slowly crawling over you to pin you beneath him on the bed, pure desire between your thighs, flames flickering inside you when his gaze lowered.

You pulled the jacket off his shoulders, hands lifting his T-shirt over his head. Your eyes dropped to his stomach, breathing in the muscles lining his navel, the trail of coarse hair disappearing under his jeans, the marks and scars across his entire torso. Your hands inadvertently reached out, tracing every line and contour, his head falling down at your gentle touch.

You pulled his belt open, before he took his time lifting his T-shirt up off your body, watching with uninterrupted focus, taking in every bare inch he could see until you were left nude before him.

"Fuckin' beautiful," He whispered, his lips beside your ear, moving to leave soft kisses against your neck.

Your jugular pounded in your throat, his silken tongue finding your pulse and biting down softly. You whimpered, pulling yourself closer to him as he scattered kisses over your neck and chest. His hands engulfed your breasts, warmth erupting over your body when he left wet kisses over your nipples, a flat tongue following.

"Yes, please," You exhaled, your back arching into him.

He laid down beside you, a smooth transition when your hand on his chest pushed him back against the pillows. You climbed over his lap while he gripped your hips, staring up at you as you rocked over the bulge in his jeans.

He grunted, quickly yanking his waistband and briefs down. His cock lifted from the restraints, painfully erect, the size a bit intimidating but you'd never given up from a challenge. You leaned forward, sliding your panties aside, helping him to press the tip of his cock against your entrance, before you sat back down.

His cock slowly inched inside, an uncomfortable stretch, but you were already so aroused it quickly dissipated when your hips moved forward. He stretched his neck back, pressing into the pillows; your pussy was drenched, with soft, velvet walls that squeezed around him. He gritted his teeth.

"So big, Lieutenant," You exhaled, a guttural sound as you appreciated just how much he filled you.

"No Lieutenant shite," He groaned. "Simon-" He gulped. "Say my name, love."

You leaned over him, resting your hands against the pillows while his hands slid up to your waist. You craned your neck down to press your lips against his, your pussy gliding up and down his cock while his hands guided you.

It was a haze-inducing sight; your lips wide with pleasure, panting softly every time his cock would massage your walls, graze your clit.

"You feel good, sweetheart," He grumbled against your neck. "Fuckin' hell- that's good."

"Yes- fuck," You watched his eyes, the way he'd furrow his brows in an attempt to digest just how good you felt wrapped around him.

His free hand massaged your breasts, grabbing and palming the soft tissue as you thrust your hips against his.

"God, Simon."

"Been waitin' to hear you say my name like that," He said.

You shivered on his cock, your pussy clenching down with appreciation for his words.

You moved forward, your hips working to grind against him, to push his cock inside you, falling back with heavy exhales.

He couldn't handle the slow pace, couldn't handle the restriction- how he couldn't bury himself inside you. He flipped your bodies over, realigning himself with your pussy before diving back inside.

You groaned, clinging to his shoulders, your thighs immediately wrapping around his waist, trembling.

"Lie back," He grunted, his hips rolling against yours. "Lie back and let me take care of you, love."

Your lips parted, a satisfied moan escaping. Your hands reached his hair, fingers digging into his scalp as he thrust his cock inside you, the sounds of your well-lubricated pussy echoing around the room.

He muffled your moans with his lips, panting heavily after pulling away.

"So deep," You mumbled, "Fuck you're so deep, just like that, please."

"Like hearin' you beg, sweetheart," Another grunt.

His fingers reached down to your clit, rubbing side to side in a way that made your abdomen tense. He felt the clench of your pussy around him, letting out a low gasp against your skin.

"Christ, I dreamt about fuckin' you. Havin' you just like this."

"Simon," You whispered.

His hand gripped your thigh, angling it to penetrate deeper inside you.

"Who's this cunt belong to?" Sweat lined his brow, his fingers still moving in circles on your clit.

"Fuck," You squeezed your eyes shut, savouring just how fucking good it felt, the stimulation was enough to have you writhing beneath him, your body begging for an orgasm. "You, shit- 's all yours."

"That's my girl," He grumbled, plunging his cock inside you with even more speed now, triggering waves of pleasure that engulfed your entire body, had you moaning so loudly he covered your mouth with his hand.

"Fuck," He swore, listening to the muffled sounds of pleasure escaping your mouth. "Fuckin' hell. Let it out. I've got you."

You whimpered and whined, his cock driving into you, extending your orgasm. Your eyes rolled back, nostrils flaring as you tried to catch your breath, your thighs and fingers squeezing relentlessly against him.

He had a difficult time holding back; he so badly wanted to hear every single moan and cry that left your lips, but knew the walls were thin. He wouldn't live with himself if anyone found out, if you'd take the brunt of the relentless torment that would surely follow.

He removed his hand when he was sure you'd recovered, so close to his own release he almost didn't have time to tell you. You could read his face, see the expression of pain and pleasure.

"Wherever," You breathed. "Wherever you want."

Your words pushed him past the edge, and his hips stuttered, pressing flush against yours as he released inside you, his cock twitching with every burst.

He sucked in a harsh breath, head tilting up to stare at the ceiling. He thrusted lazily a few more times, before gently falling next to you. A few moments passed, deep breaths and contentment in the air.

"What's in your head now?" You asked, turning on your side.

He nearly smiled, "All clear, sweetheart."

#cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod mwii #mwii #simon riley #strlingsavwrites #ask strlingsav

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fryingpan1234567 · 10 months ago

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canonically Jason and Tim have motorcycles, right? and B and Duke too but the other two are more well known I think

ANYWAYS what if everyone in the batfam had one tho? because. the potential.

Dick takes his off of roofs sometimes, but it’s built for it. before all his modifications, it was just a blue and black chrome Yamaha sports bike, nothing special. he added a Nightwing sticker on each side, a bunch of weapons (mostly electricity based), grappling hooks, Nightwing things. there’s even a sidecar for Haley.

Babs (before the wheelchair days) had a purple and yellow one that matched her suit perfectly. it sort of meant she couldn’t use it during the day, but occasionally she rode it to work with extensive concealing of the random dangerous gadgets. hers was also a Yamaha (same model ^^)

Jason canonically has a black shapeshifting one like some maccadams shit but it’s fine— it’s loud as shit, so he doesn’t really use it for patrol, but he loves it during the day. because it’s just black, it’s pretty easy to take it out for completely non-suspicious speeding law breaking joyrides. no harm done!

Cass has a jet black Ninja, and her reputation on the streets is about the same as the nightfury’s at the beginning of the first httyd. dark, deadly, and it’s even quiet in Gotham’s busy streets. watch your back for her.

Tim’s got the BATCYCLE it’s CANON. it’s also canon that it’s got a liquid-cooling engine and a Robin-themed paint job, but fuck that, I say it’s dark red and electric and he rides it to work. so sometimes (most of the time) he pulls up with ruffled clothes and helmet hair, which Conner nearly fainted at the first time he saw it, but we don’t talk about that. he doesn’t use it for patrol because Kon said he’d carry him everywhere if Tim gave him rides in exchange. on the bike. he has said on more than one occasion “wear the helmet, ride a biker” and Tim punches him really hard

Steph’s bike is purple, and the wheels do the hover-shift-glowy thing like in Mario Kart (also purple). she’s not scared of you or anyone; she will ride that shit to school and use it on patrol with the hovering and distracting color and everything. fight me.

in canon, Duke’s bike is electric with a bunch of lights and black and yellow and lowkey built like a tank. I kinda like it! I think it’s a fabulous bike for a fabulous man so therefore he gets to keep it I won’t be taking criticism

Damian gets a green and red and black electric Ninja, plus a helmet that he painted with feathers and paw prints n shit. Jon likes the spare, which is just black but has a red mohawk. what more could you want? he could fly everywhere, but he also could just have his badass motorcycle bf drive him everywhere while he wears his dope ass helmet and vibes to whatever 2000s pop shit Damian lets him play. he’s a professional backpack.

did you think I’d stop at the Batkids? sorry imma keep going

I like the idea of Brucie having a black sports bike that’s 90% modifications like in the movie. no one remembers what it was before he took it all apart and added Bat-stuff, but it looks great now! it’s blown up more times than you can count, just because it’s a really good target for rogues.

Kate has one that’s almost exactly the same, except hers is maybe a little closer to what it was originally. she doesn’t quite have all the same stuff Bruce does, but they’re the same vibe!

anyways that’s the vigilante weirdos club, so like it’s expected that they’d all have a dangerous vehicle. slightly less expected— Alfred freaking Pennyworth has a Harley with tall handles and sparkly black paint, but nobody knew that for such a long time because he barely leaves the manor. all the kids lost their minds when they found out. what can I say

anyways some Bat-bike shenanigans that have ensued:

street races between all the Batkids at least once a week, whether that be on patrol or in civvy clothes

Jason obnoxiously revving really loud whenever he sees one of them in the street, on a date, when he’s picking them up from something, just as often as possible. obnoxious revving. old people hate him

cool lesbian aunt Kate picking up kids from school with her badass bike and epic helmet

sometimes Dick will be talking about “his child” or “his baby” and no one’s sure if he’s talking about his dog or his bike

bike-related thirst traps on social media

“race you to the next light”

not a single one of them has left a Gotham speeding law intact even once (not even Alfred, although he won’t admit it)

Wally likes to get Dick to race him on his bike even though he knows he’s going to win

both Jon and Conner have said something along the lines of “I bet I could pick up the bike with you on it” as a show-off attempt, but Damian and Tim love their paint jobs too much to permit them to try

Batfam on bikes❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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acknowledge-reigns · 3 months ago

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Welcome Back, OTC. (I'll make love to you) | Roman Reigns x Black!fem OC. SMUT. 18+!! MDNI!

Description: Roman is full of surprises at the biggest party of the summer. Lilah is eager to welcome him back.

Warnings: Established Dom/sub dynamic, teasing, spanking/mention of spanking, praise/rewards ("good girl "), honorifics ("Daddy", "My tribal chief"), Nipple play, Petnames (Princess, babygirl, little brat?), vaginal sex, mild brating/brat taming and begging.

Face claim: Jaylen Barron.

Song: I'll make love to you by Boys ll Men

You can find more of my work here.

Stories that feature Roman x Lilah include: Jealous, 34+35, There goes my baby, Nonsense, and Worst to me.

Again, MDNI!!! THIS IS AN 18+ FAN FICTION. As always my stories are about Roman Reigns NOT Joe Anoa'i.

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Lilah sat backstage, anxiously waiting for her boyfriend Roman Reigns to return from the ring. She had no idea ahead of time that he was going to show up and go all 'Wreck everyone and leave' on his little cousin. She was honestly in disbelief. Truth be told it was probably for the best. Lilah couldn't hold water. If she caught glimpse of a birthday gift Roman had gotten for one of his cousins, it was within hours that she'd spill the beans. it's just who she was, surprises were not her forte.

She had been backstage removing her makeup and what-not after her own match, completely in the dark as to what Roman had up his sleeve when she heard the arena erupted in cheers and Lilah's heart skipped a beat. She knew that sound all too well - Roman's wrestlemania 40 theme.

Lilah rushed to the monitor, eager to see her beloved boyfriend. She watched in disbelief as Roman practically flew into the ring and superman punched Solo, giving him no time to recover before hitting him with a spear as 50k+ people roared thunderously in support of him.

After the match, Roman made his way backstage.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming back?" she asked, her voice neutral.

Roman smiled almost sheepishly. "I wanted it to be a surprise," he said.

Lilah was both angry and relieved. She was angry that Roman had kept her in the dark, but relieved that he was back. In the direct aftermath of wrestlemania 40 the two of them had gone on vacation together, had some island time and just took some time to reconnect, though after the first month Lilah made her return to WWE whereas Roman had not been seen since April. It was now August. Four months later. To the fans it had felt like an eternity. It had for Lilah too really. Being on the road without him felt incredibly weird. Especially now that she wasn't traveling with the bloodline.

With Jimmy and Paul both out with injuries after getting attacked by the new members Solo had brought into the bloodline. Jacob, Tama and Tanga had all been recruited post wrestlemania season when Solo decided that he wanted to play pretend, he had convinced himself that he was the tribal chief and Lilah didn't want any part of it. So she was more than willing to travel by herself, though she did sometimes ride with Trin, Bianca and Jade.

She'd kept Roman in the loop the entire time, constantly filling him in on the shit talking Solo was doing, down to him having the audacity to wear the ula fala. Roman was eerily calm each time, he just reassured her that things would be fine. Just do her own thing, keep her distance from Solo and the others and that he would be back when the time was right.

It seemed that the time was right at Summerslam. "OTC?" Lilah questioned.

"Original tribal chief." Roman responded, a smirk on his face. Lilah couldn't help but chuckle. She loved when he got petty.

As they entered Roman's locker room, Roman pulled Lilah into a tight embrace.

A petty Roman Reigns was a dangerous Roman Reigns. A sexy Roman Reigns. Not that he wasn't always mouth wateringly fuckable, but this attitude... yeah it was doing something for her.

"I missed you," he whispered.

Lilah melted into his arms, all thoughts of anger and surprise fading away. She had missed him too, more than she could put into words.

"I have another surprise for you." Roman said flirtatiously.

Lilah's curiosity was piqued. "What is it?" she asked, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Roman smiled slyly. "I can't tell you yet," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "But I promise, you'll love it."

Lilah couldn't help but feel a shiver of anticipation. She had always loved the way Roman kept her on her toes.

"When can I find out?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Roman leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. "Soon," he whispered. "Very soon."

Lilah's heart was racing now. She couldn't wait to find out what Roman had in store for her.

"But I want to know now," she said, pouting playfully.

Roman chuckled. "Nope," he said, giving her a playful swat on the ass. "I'm afraid you'll just have to wait."

Lilah huffed in mock frustration. "You're no fun," she said, trying to hide her smile.

Roman chuckled and leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips.

Lilah's annoyance quickly faded as Roman's lips met hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and deepening the kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, Roman was grinning. "See?" he said. "I can be fun."

Lilah rolled her eyes, but she was secretly thrilled. "I suppose you're not completely hopeless," she teased.

Roman pretended to be offended. "Ouch," he said, placing a hand over his heart. "You wound me, babygirl."

"You think you can get away with talking to your tribal chief like that? Rolling your eyes at me?" He continued in a playful stern tone, "You want me to spank you, Babygirl?"

Lilah laughed. "You'll live," she said.

Roman chuckled taking a seat and pulled Lilah into his lap. "You're so feisty," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I love it."

Lilah grinned and snuggled closer to him. "You love me," she said, nuzzling his neck.

Roman smiled and kissed the top of her head. "That I do," he said. "That I do."

They sat in silence for a moment, just enjoying each other's company. Lilah was still curious about Roman's surprise, but she knew better than to push him... She still did it anyway though.

Roman chuckled again, sensing Lilah's eagerness. "You're really not going to let this go, are you, little brat?" he asked, his voice taking on a slightly dominant tone.

Lilah shivered at the sound of his voice. "No," she said, her voice low and sultry. "I want to know what you have planned."

Roman smirked and tightened his grip on her waist. "You're going to have to be a good girl and wait," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And if you're really good, I might just give you a reward."

Lilah's heart skipped a beat. "I can be good, My tribal chief." she said, her voice breathy.

Roman chuckled and ran a hand up her thigh. "I know you can," he said, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

Before long they were back in the luxury hotel suite Roman had booked for them, it was dimly light with rose petals all around and led candles flickering. There was champagne and strawberries. The room itself smelled faintly of lavender which he knew was one of her favorite scents. Soft r&b music, mostly from the 90s played from the Bluetooth speaker on the bedside table.

Lilah's eyes widened as she took in the romantic atmosphere. "You did all this for me?" she asked, her voice filled with awe.

Roman smiled and pulled her closer. "Of course I did," he said. "You deserve the best."

He led her over to the bed and gently pushed her down onto it. "Now, it's time for your reward," he said, his voice low and seductive.

Lilah's heart racing with anticipation. She felt Roman's hands on her body, tracing a path of fire over her skin. She moaned softly as he kissed her neck, his lips moving down to her collarbone.

Roman's hands moved lower, slipping under her shirt and tracing the curve of her hips. He kissed her passionately, his tongue exploring her mouth. Lilah arched her back, pressing herself closer to him.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. "And all mine."

Roman began to kiss his way down her body. He removed both her shirt and her bra then tossed it aside,"You were such a good girl. So patient and loyal while daddy was away." He said before he took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue.

Lilah moaned louder, her body writhing under his touch. "Roman, please," she begged. "I need you, My tribal chief."

Lilah's body was on fire with desire. She could feel Roman's hands everywhere, his touch sending waves of pleasure through her. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer.

Roman groaned, his own desire evident. "You're so eager, princess." he said, his voice thick with lust.

Roman continued to kiss and touch her, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of her body. Lilah was lost in a haze of pleasure, her mind consumed by the sensations he was creating.

Suddenly, he stopped and pulled away. Lilah opened her eyes, looking at him in confusion, "Daddy..." she whined at his teasing.

Roman's eyes darkened with lust at the sound of her voice. "Yes, princess?" he said, his voice low and commanding.

Lilah shivered at the sound of his nickname for her. "just fuck me already," she whispered. "I want you so badly, my tribal chief, please fuck me."

Roman growled, his control slipping. "You're playing with fire, babygirl," he said as he began to pull down her shorts followed by her black lace panties.

Lilah moaned again, arching her back as he exposed her skin to the cool air. "I don't care," she said. "I need you, daddy."

Roman's hands moved slowly, his fingers tracing patterns over her skin. Roman smirked, enjoying the effect he was having on her. "Is someone feeling a little needy?" he asked, his voice filled with amusement and his signature cockiness.

Liliah whimpered, her body aching for his touch. "Please," she begged. "Please fuck me, daddy."

Roman chuckled, loving the way she begged. "Well since you asked so nicely..." he said before shedding his own clothes.

Roman's hands moved to her hips, gripping them tightly as he positioned himself between her legs. "Mm go ahead, babygirl, acknowledge me." he growled, before thrusting into her.

Lilah cried out, her nails digging into his back as he started to move. "Oh fuck! I acknowledge you, Daddy." she moaned.

Roman continued to thrust into her, his movements rough and possessive. "That's right, babygirl," he said, his voice rough with desire. "You're mine, and I'm going to make sure you know it."

Liliah moaned louder, her body writhing beneath him. "Yes, Daddy, I'm yours. Only yours." she said.

Roman's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. "You're so tight, babygirl," he groaned. "You feel so good around me."

Liliah could feel herself getting closer to the edge, her body tensing with pleasure. "Please, Daddy, I'm so close," she whimpered.

Liliah's body shuddered as she came, her orgasm washing over her in waves. "Daddy!" she cried out, clinging to him tightly.

Roman leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Come for me, princess. I want to feel you come undone around me."

Roman continued to thrust into her, riding out her orgasm before finally finding his own release. He groaned her name as he came, collapsing on top of her.

Liliah wrapped her arms around him, panting and spent. "Welcome back, OTC..." she said, her voice hoarse.

#roman reigns #the tribal chief #wwe roman reigns #head of the table #the head of the table #the only one #joe anoa'i #the bloodline #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x black oc #wwe smut #the otc

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ray-ray-writings · 4 months ago

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My Cinderella AU with Schlatt

Welp... Who would have thought that Schlatt would be the one out of all of the MCYTs to NOT be outed as an abuser....

Anywho, I watched the Cinderella movie with Camila Cabello and instantly wanted to write an AU of my own of Cinderella but I didn't want to put in the work to create my own new characters and establish them and all of that fun stuff. So I did what I do best, toss already established characters into a storyline. What a weird piece of work to post on my blog after several years...

But here you go, 16.3k words of a Cinderella AU with reader as Cinderella and Schlatt as Prince Charming. If you read, I appreciate you. Consider leaving a like, comment, and/or reblog and tell me whatcha liked about it. No pressure tho <3.

Summary: A Cinderella AU in which reader is a baker and Schlatt is a Prince. the two meet in a market square where the reader in turns insults Schlatt to his face without realizing who they're talking to and the story of the relationship that then ensues.

Pairing: JSchlatt x Gender Neutral!Reader (I tried to keep in gender neutral but I may have slipped here and there, if you notice any parts that happens let me know and I'll fix it!

Mostly fluff with a touch of angst

Content Warnings: all warnings that typically come with cinderella: ie dead parents, shitty step family, reader being told she doesn't deserve good things, the word papi... like twice... you'll see. The use of "Jonathon" being Schlatt's "real" first name, Swearing, second person POV, when the text is in italics it's as if it's following Schlatt in third POV, i hope that makes sense, shitty writing at the end because I still haven't figured out how to end stories uwu.

Please let me know if I missed anything.

Once Upon a Time,

You lived with your stepmother and two stepsisters. Your mother died when you were young. She died after being thrown from a horse, hitting her head off the ground, and never waking up.

Your father had remarried within a year, but had swore to never love again. He married simply because he knew he was sick and didn’t want to die and leave you alone if he were to die when you were a minor. Sure enough, he passed when you were 15.

One thing your parents had gifted you before their passing is your love for baking. You could bake like nobody’s business. You had tried to get a job at the bakery when you had come of age but the baker didn’t appreciate your helpful tips on what to improve on and what would make his baked goods taste better. So you just bake and hang out in the square, selling to those that know you and know of your business.

You did your best to spend most of your time out of your home as your stepfamily was not kind to you. They teased and taunted you and made your life hell. You would have left the moment you were of age, but you had nowhere else to go. This was your family’s home, you didn’t make enough money baking on the side to justify moving out. So you were just waiting to meet someone who would sweep you off your feet and carry you away from here.

It’s not ideal, but that is the way that life is.

Across the land, Prince Schlatt was born and raised in the castle. He was waited on hand foot, life served to him on a silver platter. But the boy grew to a man with a kind heart, even if it tended to hide behind sarcasm and taunts. His father, King Philza, had done his best to teach Schlatt how to be a great ruler while his mother, Queen Kristen, had done her best to teach him how to be a loving man.

Schlatt loves his parents, but sometimes wanted to be his own man without his parent’s hovering over his shoulder telling him who to be. To be who he wanted to be, without the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders.

King Philza has been harping on him for rejecting so many marriage proposals, lecturing him on how important it was for him to find a suitable match before his coronation so that everything was in order before it was time for him to take over the throne.

Schlatt has always given the same response, “I don’t to marry just anyone. I want to marry for love, father, just like you.”

Philza would roll his eyes but say nothing more on the subject until the next day. Kristen was always proud of the way her son would respond, but never interrupted the two. The supportive smile she always sent Schlatt as he left was incredibly telling though.

One of the only good things about your stepfamily was that they stayed out of the kitchen. Your stepmother learned quickly about how well you could cook and bake from how you always made meals for your father that she never felt the need to cook herself. Instead, she found it easier to boss you around and force you to cook for her and her daughters.

You found you didn’t mind it though, the kitchen was your happy place. It was one of the only spaces where you knew that you wouldn’t be bothered, that for a moment while you rolled out dough or poured some batter you could pretend like everything in your life was perfect.

You needed more ingredients. For baking and for dinners. You had left the house with the small amount of money that your stepmother had given you and made your way to the market square. In your basket, a number of sweet treats to sell for your pocket cash to your normal customers after you run your errands.

The sun feels nice on your face. You’re used to heat pressing into the as you stand over a hot stove or an open oven, so the sunlight shining on you makes you feel slightly at home. Comfortable even. Maybe a bit too comfortable and unaware of your surroundings because it’s not too long while you’re lost in thought before you slam into someone. The basket flies out of your hand and tumbles to the ground, several of the treats falling to the ground.

You let out a gasp as you fall onto your butt on the ground. The man you have bumped into lets out a quiet “oh shit,” before reaching down and picking up some of the treats that have fallen out.

“Sorry about that,” he murmurs, reaching out a hand for you to take. You carefully take his hand, allowing your eyes to scan the stranger. The first thing that you notice is his eyes. They’re fucking beautiful. The pools of dark chestnut brown bore into yours so deeply it momentarily takes your breath away. You’re able to see the way they fill with concern all the while they flick down and examine you, if you were of more a mind, you would blush.

The next thing you notice is the mask that covers the lower half of his face. You stop your brows from furrowing at the sight. You continue to observe him. You note the way that his brown hair is pulled back, which is what allowed you to see his eyes so strikingly before. His clothes are a bit on the fancier side of those that come to the market. He’s strong too, you can tell by the way he pulls you up from the ground with no real effort exerted. His hands are on the softer side. He feels familiar but you can’t place where you know him.

Oh fuck. You’re the prettiest person Schaltt has ever seen. He’s been introduced to countless nobles, never ending royalty, long lines of commoners, but none of them could compare to how absolutely stunning you look right now. And he’s just made a huge ass full of himself by running into you and sending some of your baked goods AND you flying to the ground. At least he was smart enough to wear a mask to hide his face and therefore his identity. He knows his facial hair is incredibly recognizable. Even if he wasn’t presenting as the crowned prince, he better make this right.

“It’s alright,” you respond once you’ve shaken yourself out of your stupor, reaching for your basket. He quickly hands it back to you. You do a quick inventory and note that about a third of your stock had fallen to the ground. “Great, just great,” you murmur quietly to yourself.

“Again, I’m so sorry about that… let me replace what you’ve lost. Allow me to walk you to the bakery so you can buy more.” The stranger says, motioning toward the bakery, his eyes never leaving yours.

The laugh you let out causes the man’s shoulders to deflate, causing you to clear your throat and instantly start explaining. “No, no, sorry. I’m not laughing at you. Rather laughing at the thought of me buying anything from that fucking guy.”

His brows furrow as he looks at the pastries. “You didn’t get them from the baker? Where did you get them from then?”

“I made them myself.” You answer simply, giving a small shrug. “The baker didn’t want to hire me and so I bake them at my house and sell them on the square to a few people.”

His brows hit the top of his forehead. “Oh shit, really? I guess I just made you lose income then, huh? Let me pay for them then.”

“Oh, no really it’s okay. It was an accident. Don’t worry about it.”

“No really. I insist. Please. It’s the least I can do.” He states before digging into his pockets and pulling out 5 gold pieces and pressing them into your hand.

You stare at the gold in shock. “Sir, I can’t accept this. I only charge 2 copper for one cookie. This is far too much, please take it back.”

Schaltt panics. It’s been forever since he’s had an economics class and he isn’t sure how much money is a lot of money to common folk. He realizes 5 gold is probably a bit too much, especially after you tell him of what you usually charge. It’s too late to back out now.

“Nah,” he answers. “I guess it just means you have to give me the rest that’s in the basket.”

Without hesitation, you hold the basket out for him to take. He’s surprised by your quick movement but carefully takes the basket from your hands. He grabs the cloth that covers the basket gently and carefully pulls it back, revealing a plethora of baked goods, the sight makes his mouth water. “Woah, these look professionally made.”

You let out a huff and puff out your chest a bit more. “Well I am a professional. And they would look better, but someone caused the basket to hit the ground.”

His laugh may be the most beautiful thing you have ever heard. It makes your heart flutter and you have to will the heat to not flood your cheeks. “I apologized for that already,” He teases.

“Yeah well, it still happened didn’t it,” you shoot back.

He laughs again, which surprises you. Most people would have called you rude by now and left you to stand here alone. But not this strange stranger. You don’t mind his presence though. “You’re funny…” He trails off

You realize he’s waiting for your name and you supply it to him. He echos it back, stating it slowly as if to savor every syllable, to test how it feels on his tongue and his teeth before he hums. “I’m charmed to meet your acquaintance,” He states, reaching out grabbing your hand, bending at the waist, and pressing the back of your hand to his masked lips. It takes everything in you to will the blood to NOT rush to your cheeks.

He drops your hand before straightening up. “Now if you don’t mind, I will be trying one of these delectable looking desserts.”

He reaches into the basket and pulls out a chocolate chocolate-chip cookie. “Oh fuck yes. These are my fucking favorite.”

You can’t stop the grin and giggle that escapes you.

The stranger turns from you and for a moment your heart falls and your stomach turns as you think that he’s walking away from you. But you’re able to see his hand move up to the lower half of his face and you realize he’s pulling his mask down in order to eat. You quickly look away to give the man his privacy. You may be curious as to what he looks like, but you value respecting his choices above all else.

Holy fuck it’s one of the tastiest things he’s ever eaten. His eyes close as he groans at the taste that fills his mouth. He’s glad he had the sense to turn around and his face and expression from you. He couldn’t imagine how embarrassing he looks right now.

You hear him let out a groan of approval and you can only assume that something has hit his tongue. “This is delicious.” Your assumptions are confirmed as his voice comes out muffled from the food in his mouth.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” you chide, looking at the bustling people of the market stalls.

Schlatt chuckles, pulling the mask back up and turning back to face you. He’s stunned for a moment to not meet your eyes. Realizing why you’re angled and looking the way that you are. His own heart skips a beat before he clears his throat. He takes a moment to chew and swallow before softly letting you know you’re good to look.

You’re slightly disappointed to find the mask still in its place but you understand the want for privacy perhaps more than most. “So it was good then?” You ask.

He nods enthusiastically. “It was fucking amazing. I can’t wait to get back to the castle and try the rest of them.” He says, realizing a moment too late his slip.

Your brows hit the top of your forehead, “The castle? Do you live in the castle?” You can’t stop the question that falls from your lips.

“Yeah, I’m a guard. I live in the castle, and I’m a guard. Today’s my day off.” He explains. His words are rushed, but who are you to question a man you just met.

You give a couple nods, “I see,” you state simply, “That makes sense.”

Internally Schlatt lets out a loud breath of relief that you bought the lie. The castle has been his home his entire life and he wasn’t thinking when he spoke so he’s glad you easily bought his excuse of being a guard.

“It makes sense considering you just handed me 5 gold like it’s not more than I will make in two months and King Philza makes sure that the guards get paid an excellent salary… not that he makes sure the rest of the citizens get paid the same. But that’s neither here nor there.” You huff.

The stranger’s brows lift. “What do you mean by that?”

Your face burns as you catch what you just admitted. “Oh nothing.” You rush. “Sorry you probably are more than happy with the decisions the king makes. Not to imply anything. Sorry.”

“No, no it’s alright. I want to hear it.”

And want to hear it, he does. No one has the guts to speak so plainly to him when they’re around him. So he wants to hear it. The good, the bad and the ugly.

You clear your throat and square your shoulders. “Well if you insist. Often it feels like the king, the whole royal family really, doesn’t care about those that do not live in the castle. I can’t get a job because no one can afford to hire anyone because everyone is just barely scraping by. It’s like he can’t see past his own front lawn. Which sucks because everyone talks about what a great guy he is, but sometimes I don’t think he’s a very good king.”

Schlatt hums in acknowledgement. You bring up some really good points. He also sometimes feels like his father forgets he’s supposed to be ruling for the people and isn’t supposed to be ruling his son’s life… speaking of. “Well I’m sure you can’t wait for his son to take over the throne then? Schlatt?” He is instantly startled by the loud laughter that bubbles from your throat.

“Schlatt? That big, petty, man-baby? Yeah. Sure. I’m excited to see how that big man-baby decides to rule the kingdom. You know, I heard that he grew those mutton chops to make himself more unattractive to potential suitors. I think he didn’t realize how fucking good he looks with them. At least from what I’ve seen from a distance. I think he makes them work, and I’m definitely not the only one in the kingdom that agrees. I think he just needs to bite the bullet and just… I don’t know. Do it.”

Schlatt once again thanks his past self profusely for the idea of wearing a mask to hide his face because he can feel the way his cheeks heat up to what he is sure is a bright red. You’re not particularly wrong. That was the original thought. To make himself look unkempt and not put together in an attempt to drive away potential suitors but he grew to like how they looked and grew fond of the hair.

“I don’t think he should just bite the bullet and marry the first person that asks for his hand” he defends, “I think he wants to marry for love. Not for some political alliance. I think that’s admirable.”

“Oh I agree. My apologies. That’s not what I meant. I meant he needs to bite the bullet and be fucking honest with the kingdom. The news that we get from the castle is that he’s the one that’s been rejected. That he wants to find the perfect alliance. That he wants what’s best for the kingdom. And while I agree that maybe he does, he needs to be fucking honest with us and tell us the truth. That he’s looking for love. Not what would ‘be best for the kingdom.’ We don’t mind that’s what’s happening, it’s the fact we’re being lied to, ya know?”

“Huh, so that’s the news that is coming out of the castle… I’ll have to talk to someone about that.”

Your breath catches slightly. “Shit. Sorry. I don’t want to get either of us in trouble. Forget me and my words. I know not of what I speak.”

“No, sweets. You have valid points. They deserve to be heard. I won’t mention your name if you wish. But I will make them hear me. I’m actually rather close with the prince.” He can’t help but internally snicker to himself. Closer than you know.

The blood drains from your face. “Of course you are. Of course I complain about the prince to someone that has direct connection with him… fuck. Okay. Cool. Good to know. Well… I have to go. I have to get my ingredients still and I must be home before stepmother gets there. It was a pleasure meeting you.” You state quickly before attempting to rush past him.

You're stopped by his hand grasping your shoulder gently, causing you to turn around to face him. “Will I ever see you again?”

The way he asks is so soft and gentle. It causes your heart to pound loudly and the breath to pause in your throat. “Maybe,” you breathe out.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment more before it hits you. “I have a carrier pigeon. I’ll send it with a letter to the castle and we can talk like that. Maybe sometime we can meet again. Maybe on one of your days off.”

The man’s beautiful brown eyes light up with delight. “That would be amazing. I look forward to hearing from you.” He allows his hand to trail from your shoulder, down your arm, to your hand, and he lifts the hand to his lips before placing a kiss to it. He gives you a soft wink as he drops your hand. You turn away as you blush, willing yourself to calm down.

“Oh!” You startle, “I forgot to ask your name-“ the words die on your lips to find the spot next to you vacated with the tall stranger nowhere in sight. “Great. Just great… well. I better get going. Those cookies won’t bake themselves.”

Schlatt has never felt so giddy. He can’t wait to hear from you. He also realizes he never gave you a name, he’ll just have to keep his eye out for a new and unfamiliar carrier pigeon.

You debate with yourself when you get home what the proper waiting time is for sending a stranger a letter with the pigeon. Because you wrote one as soon as you got home and it was ready to send within two hours of meeting him. Sending one that quickly may spook him. It could cause him to think you’re weird.

You decide you’ll wait a couple hours, bake cookies and make dinner and then when your stepmother allows you to retire to your room, that is when you’ll send it. And so that is what you do. You check over the letter a thousand times before you tuck it into the envelope and hand it to your carrier pigeon. “To the castle pigeon, look for a man with brown hair and brown eyes… well that’s specific huh?... I really should have gotten his name. Okay… well… I guess we will half to wing it.” You scribble down something on the envelope and hand it to the pigeon who takes it with its foot and flies off to the castle.

Schlatt is taking a stroll in the gardens, kicking himself for not asking for a better way to contact you. He hadn’t heard anything from you and at this point he’s worrying he never will. He’s spent most of his time analyzing the conversation over and over again in his head and realized that he probably came off too strong and too weird and he will be lucky to ever see you again.

He jumps as a pigeon lands on his shoulder,to his head snapping to the side to meet the wide, vacant eye of the bird. It gives a soft coo before shaking and moving its foot, drawing attention to the letter in its grasp. His heart leaps to his throat in hope before he swallows and carefully takes it.

He grins at the writing on the front of the envelope. “Sir Charmed, lover of chocolate chip cookies.” Instantly all his worries melt away as he plucks the letter from its hiding and he reads the words. Once. Twice. A Hundred times. Schlatt rushes inside to carefully compose his response.

You don’t go a day without hearing from each other for the next couple of weeks. You exchange letters. You tell him about your life and how you got your love of baking, and your want of leaving the house. He tells you the pressures of his job and how sometimes he just wants to run away from it all and explore the world. You make him promise that if he does, he’ll take you with him. He promises.

You forget to get his name and at this point you’re too embarrassed to ask him for it, instead electing to call him a bunch of nicknames, mainly being Sir Charming, hoping he never catches on. He never seems to.

The two of you agree to meet up once more, somewhere a little more quiet than the market square, but still public (because you have to be proper.) You’re sure to wear the cutest outfit you can manage to put together and bake the best batches of cookies you’ve ever baked.

“Where are you going?” Ted asks with his brow raised, watching Schlatt with his arms crossed as Schlatt sneaks through the castle halls.

Schlatt freezes and slowly turns. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sureeeee,” Ted draws, not convinced at all. “You’re just creeping through the halls in one of your best outfits going… nowhere.”

Schlatt sighs, not being able to hide from his best friend. “I’m going to meet them.”

Ted raises an eyebrow. “Them? The one you’ve been writing all those letters to? Are you sure that’s a good idea”

“I know that it is. Please. Cover for me?”

Ted sighs but can’t deny Schlatt has been happier in the past couple weeks than he has been for the past couple months. “Okay fine. But you’d better bring me back one of those sugar cookies.”

Schlatt gives Ted a toothy grin. “We’ll see.”

You give him a shy smile as he appears. “Hey, you,” you greet standing, wiping your hands on your pants.

“Hey sweets,” he greets back, his voice muffled through the mask still adorned on his face. You didn’t mind too much. He explained that it made him more comfortable, especially because in his work he has to wear something to cover his face under the helmet, it’s just easier for him to wear it. As much as you want to see his entire face, you were willing to respect his choices.

“How are you?”

“Can’t complain, especially now that I get to see your beauty standing before me.”

You can’t stop the blush that floods your cheeks. “Oh hush. Here. I’ve made you something special.” You tell him, turning and grabbing the special baked good that you made him. “It’s a chocolate chocolate-chip brookie. Or a double chocolate chip cookie baked inside a brownie. I remember you said that you loved brownies and cookies and sometimes can’t choose which to have so I made you both… well two in one.”

You raise your hand with one of the treats toward him, facing the basket still, still trying to will down the blush on your cheeks.

“Well, don’t mind if I do,” you have to hold in the jump as you feel his soft breath against your hand. You will yourself to stay in place as his lips brush against your outstretched fingers as he gently takes a bite out of the treat in your hand. A loud groan escapes him, similar to the one you heard the day the two of you met. “Okay, I take back everything I’ve said… This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

All of your hard work is ruined as the blood rushes back to your cheeks into a blush. “What have I told you about talking with your mouth full?” You deflect

The treat is removed from your hand, his fingers brushing against your palm. “My apologies, your highness.” His words are even more mumbled, telling you he shoved the brookie all the way into his mouth.

You scoff. “Careful now, you’ll get me hung for treason with that nickname.”

His laugh garbled out around the baked good. “Surely the king isn’t that cruel.” His hand rests on your shoulder and turns you to face him, the mask sitting on his face once again.

You laugh back and shrug, “I don’t know. I’ve never met the man.”

“Well I have. So I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it.”

“Is that so?... I guess I’ll just have to trust you then.”

You stare into his brilliant and beautiful eyes for a while longer before he moves, clearing his throat and gesturing forward, “Shall we then?”

“I am getting sick of these games you’re playing, Jonathan.” King Philza booms loudly.

Schlatt rolls his eyes and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I’m not playing games with you father, I’ve told you. I want to marry for-”

“For love. I understand. But how can you marry for love when you push away every single option I give you. You haven’t given yourself a chance to fall in love with anyone I have brought before you and I am growing tired of it. If you do not pick someone within the next month, I will be choosing someone for you. End of story. Am I understood?”

Schlatt internally panics. He knew this day was coming. He knew he was pushing his father too far. He had held out for too long. His stomach drops… There’s only one person he could see himself marrying at this point…

Assuming he had been understood, Philza turns to walk out the door. “Let’s throw a ball,” the words tumble from Schlatt’s lips.

Phil turns back around with an eyebrow raised. “A ball?”

“You want me to marry quickly. I want to marry for love. So what better way than to throw a ball, invite everyone in the kingdom, emphasizing the invitations for single people, and then I’ll be able to talk and dance with people all night. And I swear to you, if we throw this ball I will find a betrothed by the end of the month.”

Phil is silent for a while. Tossing the words over in his head for a moment before giving a single nod. “So be it.” He then turns and exits the room.

Schlatt lets out a harsh breath. Well that was easier than expected. Now to convince you to come to a ball.

It takes less convincing than one might think.

You get a letter from your Sir Charming, who tells you there will be a ball and that he wants you to come as his guest. He tells you that you’d be able to bring some of your baked goods to give out to nobles to promote your baking, plus you’d be able to see him. You hate to admit how much the latter of the two sold you on the idea. You sent back your acceptance of the invitation.

The money you’ve gotten from selling your baked goods is supposed to go to a moving out fund, but you can’t help but take out a couple of the gold pieces that he gave you in the first meeting, finding it only fitting that his money buys your outfit for the ball

It’s a really pretty outfit, it fits you well enough, you had to buy it a size larger because they didn’t have your size and you didn’t have enough money to get it tailored. But it didn’t matter that much to you. Your mystery man had seen you in grubbier garment, anything would be a step up from what you met him in.

The news of the ball gets announced to the entire kingdom, and your stepmother is perhaps more excited than you are. She thinks at least one of her daughters will win the heart of the prince. When you voice your want to go, she forbids you. You tell her that you don’t even want to be in the presence of the prince, you just want to see the snack table, she sneers at you but says nothing further, making you believe that perhaps she will allow you to go.

You find yourself in your kitchen, finishing up some of the baked goods you were to take to the ball tonight. The loud clacking of your stepmother’s heels echo on the tile, the door swings open, your stepmother enters in a rage. Your heart stops as you look up from your desserts and see your outfit clutched in her hands.

“What is this?” She hisses, waving the fabric at you as she gets closer.

“My outfit for the ball,” you answer as calmly as you can, speaking around the lump in your throat.

“Oh!” She lets out in mock surprise, “Is it now? I thought you said you were not going to be trying to win the attention of the prince.”

You furrow your brow and remain standing straight with your shoulders squared back, “I am not. I have no intention of wooing the prince, stepmother.”

“Then why have you chosen to wear such an attention seeking outfit? Surely you were planning on going behind my and my daughter’s back. I should have known you were going to do something like this.”

“Please, stepmother. You must believe me. I have no--”

“I do not believe you, you little wench. You’ve always have looked for ways out of this house, to one up me and my daughters. I will stand for this no more.”

You want so badly to lash out, to rip the outfit from her hands, go running from the room, and get dressed. But you can’t move. You can barely breathe. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, your stomach turning, and your body locking up. You can only watch as your stepmother glides over to the stove. Her eyes glide over the stove top before smirking. She dunks the outfit into the melted chocolate you were going to use to cover some of the treats.

To make matters worse, part of the cloth flops over the edge of the pan and lands directly on the open flame that was on to melt the chocolate. Your stepmother lets out a triumphant laugh as the outfit catches fire, turning around and leaving the kitchen.

The sound of the door closing behind her causes you to leap into action finally. You rip the outfit out of the pot and toss it in the sink, dousing it with water, extinguishing the flame. The chocolate clings to the fabric, refusing to let go easily as you put your entire being into scrubbing the outfit.

Sobs begin falling from your lips as you realize, even if you get all of the chocolate out of this outfit, it will never dry in time for the ball. Plus. you don’t have fabric to sew up the part where the flame ate part of it. Your outfit is ruined. Your plans are ruined. The night is ruined.

You barely register your stepmother calling for your stepsisters, telling them it was time to go, and the door opening and closing behind them. The world seems to spin around you, sinking you to your knees as you sob loudly, clutching the soaking web fabric to your chest.

The cool tile welcomes you, the warmth of the oven soothes you, and the wetness of the outfit grounds you. The sobs turn into soft hiccups then to silent sniffles as you stare in front of you. Mentally you begin to write your apology letter to Sir Charming about your abscess from the ball. How you were going to go, you really were, you just didn’t have anything suitable to wear.

He’ll probably ask you why you didn’t plan better. He’ll probably be angry. He may not want to speak to you again. You’ll just have to deal with it and beg for forgiveness. And if he decides not to forgive you…. You’ll just have to live with it.

A soft knock echoes from the front door. You’re so in your own head, you’re not sure it’s a real sound, but then it comes again, a little louder this time. You muse it may be one of your steps who forgot something and didn’t think to bring a key.

In a zombie-like fashion, you let the fabric drop from your hands before standing up slowly. It almost feels as if you’re floating as you move to the front door. Your hand somehow finds the doorknob, unlocking it, before turning it and opening it up.

You startle slightly at the sight in front of you. A frail looking older man stands before you. He has grey hair, a hunchback, and a shawl that comes up and covers the top of his head and shoulders. “Oh… hello. Can I help you?” You ask softly, looking out past him wondering where he came from. Your house wasn’t necessarily in the middle of nowhere, but you definitely had your privacy from neighbors. You lived on the edge of the kingdom, no one ever really comes out here.

“Hello there, deary.” His voice is kind and his lips turn upwards slightly. “I am sorry to bother you at this time of night, but I was just on my way home and my stomach let out an awful grumble and I was just wondering if you could spare a bite to eat? I won’t take much, I promise, just something to get me home.”

You don’t know what made you trust this stranger, maybe it was just your deep need to help those around you, maybe you were still in shock from what your stepmother had done minutes… an hour? You’re not sure. But you give him a smile. “Oh yes, of course. Please come in sir. Lucky for you, I was just making something sweet. So you can snack on that while I make you dinner.”

You move out of the way and let the man enter your house.

“Oh, please deary, no need to make me a whole meal.”

“Nonsense,” you answer, guiding him into the kitchen, “I want to make sure you’re well fed for your journey home.” You hand him some of the cookies from the counter. “Here, make yourself at home.”

The man takes the cookie from your hands gently before sitting himself down at the counter. “You are far too kind… I wasn’t even sure anyone would be home. I heard the royal family is throwing a ball, and everyone is invited.”

You can’t help the laugh that falls from your lips as you begin making dinner for this kind man. “Yes, well, my stepmother believed me unworthy to attend… went as far as to destroy my outfit…” you take a moment to look down at the outfit, still soaking at your feet. You snap yourself out of the stupor, “Sorry. Not to dump.”

The man hums as he takes a bite of the cookie. “I see…. Oh this is delicious. You should run a bakery.” He exclaims.

A shy smile plays on your lips as you plate his food. “That’s the goal…One day. Thank you… Anyway, dinner is served!” You place the plate in front of him, your smile growing.

The man instantly digs in and hums in delight at the taste. The two of you converse as he eats, he talks about his life and you give him more insight into yours. Telling him of how you got your love of baking and your hopes of owning a bakery, but not working for the baker in the village.

Soon, he’s down to his last bite of dinner. He pops it in his mouth before leaning back into his chair. “Wow, that hit the spot. Thank you again deary, for dinner and the delightful conversation…”

You give him a smile, “Of course, it’s my pleasure… I just realized I never got your name.”

“You can call me Quackity…AKA”

Suddenly golden light surrounds the man in front of you, forcing a gasp out of your lips. “What’s going on?” You exclaim as the light draws closer to the man, glowing brighter.

Through squinted eyes, you watch the wrinkles fall from the man’s face. It’s as if an ink pot spills from the shawl the rests on his head, his hair turning black. The fabric morphs into a dark grey beanie that remains covering the top part of his hair. His spine straightens, his outfit morphing into a sharp tuxedo with golden wings protruding from his back. His piercing eyes, suddenly getting covered by black sunglasses.

The golden motes of light fade from existence, the old man no longer in front of you, a young man now sitting before you.

“Your fairy godmother…father…papi? Ah who knows.”

You stare wide-eyed, mouth agape at the man that now sits in front of you. “What the fuck?” You whisper. “Who are you?”

The young man tilts his head and gives a playful grin. “I just told you, silly. I’m your fairy god-Papi. You can also call me Quackity. But I’ve watched over you, and I had to make sure you were still a good person. We don’t have time for the full backstory, we have a ball to get you too, dulces.”

You stare at him, your mouth moving like a fish out of water. “What are you talking about? I can’t go to the ball, my outfit is ruined, I don’t have a way to get there. I can’t… Don’t you have to get home?”

Quackity laughs causing you to pout to play on your lips. Quackity notices, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh, you’re just too sweet. I know you think we just met, but you have to trust me. You’ve already let me in your home, you may as well trust me to do this as well.”

You puff up your cheeks with air as you toss your thoughts back and forth, debating his words. Maybe you’re asleep. Maybe you crashed and fell asleep on the kitchen floor and this is all just a dream. At this point, that would make the most sense. You pinch the skin on your thigh, flinching but looking around. When nothing around you changes, you’re forced to take this situation as reality. Incredibly weird, fucked up reality.

You meet Quackity’s bright eyes again, his kind smile never fading. “Okay.” You speak softly, letting your shoulders relax. “I trust you.”

His grin grows bigger and he claps his hands once in delight, holding them in front of his chest for a brief moment, looking you over excitedly. “I knew I chose you for a reason. Let’s get this done then, shall we?”

Quackity claps twice and the golden light fills your vision again, this time though, they’re surrounding you. Your clothes shift and change, the fabric changes and gets tighter to your body. Your hair moves around on its own, which feels weird at first, but then you realize that it feels like someone is doing your hair and you think back to your mother and father doing your hair when you were little. You feel the flour and the sugar fall from your face and your fingertips as the light cleans you up.

Your gaze moves down to your feet and your breath catches at the shoes you now adorn. They’re breathtaking, literally apparently. They’re made of glass, the majority of the shoe being see through, but a gorgeous pattern of color, as if spun sugar swirled throughout. They’re insanely comfortable too. You’d think that shoes made of glass would be uncomfortable, but they’re not. They’re perhaps the most comfortable shoes you’ve ever worn.

Soon, the light fades and you turn to find Quackity holding a mirror. The outfit is beautiful and truly made for a ball. It’s actually your size and fits you well in all of the right places. Your hair is beautiful as well, pulled back to show your face, but is done up in an intricate way. Your face, as you felt, is clear of the evidence of your baking.

“I look good,” you whisper, turning slightly, examining yourself from different angles.

“I know, I did well, didn’t I?” Quackity boasts, the feathers of his wings ruffling at the slight praise.

You look from the mirror to catch his gaze. “You did. But I still don’t have a way there, I don’t want to walk.”

Quackity shakes their head. “Oh yee of little faith. Grab those boxes of treats and follow me.”

You whip around and find all of the baked goods you were working on packed neatly in your boxes. The magic must have moved them while you were getting dolled up. You blinked away the happy tears and scooped up the boxes and scurried out the door after Quackity.

You stand back and watch as Quackity waves his hands around, the golden magic illuminating the dark night. It swirls around a pumpkin in your garden you were planning on using for a pie when it got ripe, making it grow larger and larger, changing from a thick orange pumpkin skin to a brilliant white carriage with golden details.

The sheep that wanders your small farm gets surrounded by the light and is transformed into a beautiful woman who bends at the waist in front of you. “My lady,” she speaks. You curtsy back at her, giggling. You can’t believe this is real.

Two field mice get transformed into a carriage driver and their assistant. Your carrier pigeon you’ve been using gets enlarged into a giant pigeon which the driver and assistant immediately move to get the pigeon hooked up to the carriage. Quackity moves over to stand by you, grinning as the golden light fades away as everything comes to order. “Ta da!” He says, holding his hands out and wiggling his fingers towards to new carriage and humans there to take you to the ball.

You can’t stop yourself from turning to him and throwing your arms around him, pulling him closely to you. He lets out a soft “oof” but wraps his arms around you, squeezing you tightly. “Thank you so much… fairy god….papi.”

Quackity barks out a laugh but squeezes you tighter. “Of course, dulces. Now, this magic doesn’t come without a downside.” He says, pulling away and looking you in the eye. “Nothing too bad, but the magic will fade at midnight. The carriage will go back to a pumpkin, the footman back to mice and your sheep lady to a sheep. Your outfit will fade. It will all end at midnight. So, go, have fun at the ball, eat, drink, make friends, do it all. But when that clock strikes midnight, run like hell little lady.”

You give him a short nod. “I understand… thank you. Will I ever see you again?”

Quackity smiles softly, his hand moving to cup your cheek. “I’ll never be far away from you, dulces.”

You know that means probably not, buy you decide to ignore it as you give him another hug.

He hugs you back before pulling away again. “Enough sap, you have a ball to go to. Go on! Get!” He pushes you toward the open door of the carriage. You giggle, gather the boxes of baked goods you had set down, and move to the carriage.

Puffy, the lady in waiting, climbs in the carriage after you, closing the door behind her, before hitting the top of the carriage, causing the driver to give a shout and the carriage rocks forward.

You glance out the window toward the house and find Quackity watching the carriage leave, his hands pressed to his chest. You bring your hand up and give a small wave. Quackity raises his hand and waves after you, until you cannot see him any longer.

Schlatt was going a little crazy. It was as if the entire kingdom had shown up. Everyone was here. Everyone but you. You had promised that you would come in the letter that you sent a week ago, but maybe you had changed your mind. He hopes you hadn’t though. Afterall, he swore to his father he would be betrothed by the end of this night.

He had met countless single village people, all trying to bat their eyes hard enough to make him take a second glance, but none of them were you. He found himself slumping down in his throne, brushing off the glare his father threw over his shoulder. Pretending not to hear the, “This is what you wanted. At least act like you want to be here.” He hissed over. Schlatt just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

It becomes apparent he has met everyone here tonight and still no sign of you. Until there’s a large commotion by the snack table. His gaze shoots over and his heart picks up at the sight. It’s you. You look so different from the other times he’s seen you, but it is you. He’s on his feet in an instant and rushing over.

You arrive later than everyone else at the ball, but honestly you’re totally okay with that. Less attention to yourself. You give a small bow to your servants for the evening, giving your carrier pigeon a few scritches before ducking into the castle. You hope you’ll be able to find your Sir Charming quickly so you can stick to him for the entire night. You decide you’ll first hit up the snack table to set up your baked goods and sign for the other nobles to taste just like Sir Charming said to do.

You find the table is already packed with baked goods from the bakery. You take it upon yourself to begin moving some of the treats over to make room for your treats.

“What do you think you’re doing?” A familiar voice booms from behind you.

You roll your eyes at the voice but turn around and face the baker, Mr. Lou Hamani. “I was invited to display my baked goods at this ball. So I’m simply making room.” You answer before turning back around and putting more desserts out.

Lou moves to stand beside you at the table and begins to grab at your treats. “I think not you disrespectful child. I am being paid by the king’s advisor himself for these desserts. I will not have you screwing over my chance to impress the nobles that are here today at this ball. You will pack up and leave at once.”

“I will do no such thing, I was invited to set up shop here by a castle staff member and I intend to do so.” You huff. Lou pays your words no mind and continues to gather up the things you’ve baked in his arms. “Hey, put those down. Give those back.” If he hears you he pretends like he doesn’t and cotiunes what he’s doing. It’s then you begin to try and grab your treats out of his hands.

The baker snaps at you, “get your hands off of me.”

“Give me my things back!”

You’re so invested in what is going on in front of you that you don’t realize that the entire ballroom’s eyes are on you.

In the middle of your squabble, someone loudly clears their throat. You then realize you’re in public and everyone can see you. You decide to still not care and face it with confidence. The baker looks over his shoulder and seems to pale at the sight. Your brow slightly furrows and you turn around.

Deep pools of chestnut brown lock with yours and they’re just as fucking beautiful as the day you first met them. They fill you with a sense of calm, but at the same time nerves as butterflies fill your stomach. You think you will never tire of looking him in the eyes.

You find your eyes drifting down and you feel your stomach lurch and your heart stop. You’re seeing his face uncovered for the first time. He’s so fucking handsome…

So fucking handsome with those god fucking damn mutton chops.

“Your highness,” you hear the baker greet shakily from behind you.

Your thoughts are confirmed. The man you met that day in the market, the one you’ve been sending letters to, the one you met once more, the one you’ve been slowly developing feelings for. Is Prince fucking Schlatt himself. Of fucking course he never told you his name. Of fucking course he never showed his face. It’s been him this whole time.

Oh fuck.

You’ve shit talked about him to his fucking face.

You’re fucked.

Gods. You look beautiful. He didn’t know anyone could ever look this good. He’s so fucking happy you came.

His eyes meet yours and he can tell you’re in shock. He was a bit surprised you figured it out, that your Sir Charming was actually the prince. The other part of him feels fuzzy that you can recognize him just from his eyes. He can only hope that you forgive him for lying to you.

“Mr. Hamani,” He greets easily, his eyes not leaving yours. He’s trying to decipher what it is you’re thinking, but your shocked expression masks any else you may be thinking. “Would you kindly unhand my favorite baked goods from my favorite baker? You’ll have to forgive me sir, while I find your treats delicious, I find theirs simply irresistible. I invited them and told them to set up shop here. I apologize that no one informed you in advance.”

The baker stutters but gives a quick bow. “Of course, your highness. No need to apologize to me. I was simply surprised at their appearance is all. They have always been rather disruptive and I wanted to ensure it wasn’t something of that sort happening again… I apologize, your highness.”

Schlatt gives a simple wave of his hand. “Forgiven.” He speaks.

The baker dumps the treats from his hands back on \to the table and scurries away. Schlatt strides over and snatches up a double chocolate chip cookie and takes a bite, moaning at the taste, before turning to face you. He gives a shy smile.

“Hello.”

“Hello,” he states softly as if nerves have invaded his entire stomach. As if he has a right to be nervous after the shit he let you get away with.

“Hello,” You answer tensely.

The two of you stand there, staring at each other for a moment. You haven’t even noticed that the entire ballroom is still at a standstill, staring.

You’re the first to move. You charge forward at him, your finger rising in the air, pointing directly at him. “You. I can’t believe that you-”

Prince Schlatt grabs your hand out of the air, bows, and brings the back of your hand up to his lips. The feeling of his soft lips on your hand sets the flesh there ablaze. You feel your face flush with searing heat along with the heat that floods your entire body. He mutters your name softly, lips still pressed to your hand, sending butterflies soaring in your stomach.

“Prince Schlatt.” You utter, curtsying slightly.

He stands back up to his full height and gives you a soft, lopsided grin. “May I have this dance?”

All of the heated words you wanted to sling his way die on your tongue. You can’t help but wonder if this is all a prank. Like if you accept, he is going to laugh in your face and you’re going to be tossed in the dungeon.

But then you meet his eyes.

Those damn fucking eyes.

They tell you so much, you’re surprised they didn’t tell you who you had been speaking to this entire time.

They tell you to trust him. That he truly means what he is saying. That he wants nothing more than for you to say yes, because he wants to dance with you. Truly, deeply, wants to dance with you.

Hope.

His eyes fill with hope.

And how can you say no to hope.

“You may.”

Schlatt is probably the happiest he’s ever been when you accept his offer to dance. His grin widens significantly before he leads you to the middle of the ballroom. He bows to you and you curtsy. The band strikes up a beautiful waltz song and the two of you begin to dance.

He notices that you’re working hard to follow his moves. It dawns on him that you are indeed a commoner and so you don’t have the dance training drilled into you as he has. He slows his pace down and smiles brightly as your shoulders sag in relief as you catch up with him.

“Sorry,” you mumble for a third time as you step on his toes once more.

“Please stop apologizing. I do not mind. Truly…”

He stares at you beaming, trying to make you see the truth. You seem to only slightly believe him. He clears his throat and pauses for a moment. “Here, step on my feet. I’ll move us around the ballroom.”

He smiles through you raising your eyebrows as if to ask if he was serious. He nods encouragingly.

You realize that he’s not going to move again until you comply. So you do. You carefully step both of your feet onto his, praying the glass shoes are as comfortable on top of his feet as they are on yours. If they’re not, he makes no show of it. His smirk grows impossibly wide and begins to move around once more.

The rest of the room fades away. He can see no others in the ballroom. His gaze is focused on you and you alone. He whispers jokes to you and feels his heart warm when you toss your head back in laughter.

With you, he’s not the prince.

He’s just Schlatt.

He couldn’t be more thankful for you.

You couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed as Prince Schlatt dances you across the room. Your father always told you not paying attention to your mother’s dance lessons would come back to bite you. You never thought you’d see the day that would come to fruition.

But he moved you around with such ease that it made you feel as if you were floating. It didn’t matter you didn’t know how to dance, he was there. He was helping you through. He was there for you.

Your mind takes that thought and runs with it.

You think back to you waiting everyday eagerly for his letters to arrive. The way you blossomed under his praise, both of you and your baking. Ever since the moment you met him, he always was there to catch you. You can’t think of a single moment in the past couple months where your mind wasn’t filled with the thoughts of him.

He has always been there.

The music ends and the two of you bow to each other. A round of applause startles the two of you out of your bubble. You look around and find several other couples had joined you on the dance floor, but most people had stayed pressed on the sidelines, watching the dances. Those are the ones that were now applauding. Your face flushes once more and you duck your head down as you step off of Prince Schaltt’s feet and away from him.

If the prince notices you trying to put distance between the two of you, he doesn’t make it known. He instead grabs your hand once more, pressing another kiss to the back of your hand.

“Come on, I must introduce you.” He states simply before moving towards the front of the room where his family sat.

Your heart leaps to your throat, eyes widening as the royal family draws nearer and nearer. Somewhere in your brain had registered that if your Sir Charming was the Prince Schlatt, then his father would then be King Philza. But that didn’t actually click until now.

Until the King, Queen, and other Prince were rising to meet you.

“Father, Mother… brother,” Schlatt greets with a wide smile giving them a bow. “It is my honor to introduce you to my guest of honor for the evening.” You can barely believe it’s your name that then falls from his lips.

Through the fog in your head, you thank yourself for remembering to give a deep bow to the royal family of the land. “Your majesties. Thank you for allowing me… everyone into your home. Everything about this ball is beautiful and perfect.” You give yourself a pat on the back for sliding in that compliment.

“Everything except the pastries from the local baker it seems.” King Philza’s tone is so deep and regal it’s incredibly hard to register the joking tone.

You swallow hard. “Forgive me, your highness. Mr. Hamani and I have never gotten along. I should not have brought our feud inside your home.”

King Philza gives a dismissive wave.

“It’s quite alright, dear.” Queen Kristen speaks up, her tone soft and gentle. “Sometimes men allow their egos to get in the way.”

You can’t help but giggle along with her and nod along.

“Dear!” King Philza lets out in a slight aghast tone.

“Oh do not tell me I am wrong, my love. You should know this better than anyone.”

The King does not have a response back for that. He instead turns back around and catches your eye. His gaze is so piercing you cannot help but look down at your feet. “We will not keep you any longer. Please, enjoy the ball.”

“But I haven’t had a chance to talk with them yet!” Prince Tommy whines, stepping forward to stand with his father.

The King rests a hand on his back and opens his mouth to speak but Prince Schaltt cuts him off. “Nor will you ever. We are off to enjoy the ball now. Farewell.”

Before anyone in his family can get a word in, Prince Schlatt pulls you away. He beelines to the snack table, the people around it parting to allow him access to the table. Almost all of your baked goods are gone, stuffed in the hands of the attendees, all wanting to see just what made Prince Schlatt deny the local baker.

Schlatt snaggs two of the double chocolate chip cookies and one of the brookies from the table and continues on his way, still pulling you away. Instead of stopping somewhere in the grand ballroom, he pulls you completely out of the castle and into the royal gardens.

He stops in front of a bench in front of a fountain. He takes a seat and pats the bench next to him, silently inviting you to sit down.

You do not sit down.

Instead, you take a couple paces back and forth in front of him, before you turn on your heel to face him. “I cannot fucking believe you!” You finally let out all of your nerves and frustrations into the sentence.

Prince Schlatt startles slightly, coughing as a crumb of his cookies go down the wrong pipe. He clears his throat and goes to speak up but you don’t give him the chance.

“You fucking asshole. You let me talk shit about your father… about you to your face the first time we met. Let me talk about your mutton chops. Never stopping to correct me or let me know who you were. You let me call you Sir Charming, never once stopping to tell me your name. How did I let this go this far? You let me write you letters everyday and you wrote me back! You told me so much about you and your life, but didn’t tell me this? This seems pretty fucking big, your highness. Oh my fucking gods. Oh my gods. I can’t fucking believe you. Holy fucking shit. You’re such a fucking asshole.”

You can’t stop your hand from coming up and slapping his shoulder, pushing him back, not hard enough to push him off but hard enough to prove a point.

He says nothing for a few moments, letting you breathe through it and calm down, before a grin splits his face. “Yeah. But it was hot. I liked being put in my place during our first meeting. It was interesting to hear your perspective. Someone talking to a complete stranger, not trying to kiss my ass and make me feel good about myself… though with the way you were talking about my chops, maybe you did just a bit of the latter anyway.”

You let out a frustrated groan as the heat floods your cheeks. “Fuck you.”

He reaches out and cups your cheek, bringing you down a bit to press a kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, yeah.”

You take a few more deep breaths before allowing yourself to plop down beside him. You rest your head against his shoulder, forgetting your properness for a moment, taking another deep breath. “I can’t fucking believe you.” You mutter one final time.

Schlatt turns and presses a kid to the top of your head before resting his head on the top of your head. He lets the silence sit for a while before he clears his throat and speaks again. “I am sorry, by the way.”

You don’t speak, which he’s partially grateful for, it allows him to process his thoughts further. But on the other hand, he can’t see your face so he can’t tell if the silence is back.

“I am sorry for not telling you. For lying about who I am… I… You didn’t know me and yet I wanted to know you…but I knew I wouldn’t get that chance if I was honest about who I was. You had a preconceived notion about who I am and I wanted a chance to show you that’s not all of who I am… I didn’t mean for the lie to go on this long. And I do feel back for lying. And I really am sorry.”

Your silence kills him. His heart hammers in his chest. But then he feels you turn and nervously press a quick kiss to his cheek. “I forgive you.” The three words are the sweetest he’s ever fall from the lips of another. “I get it. I appreciate your apology and I forgive you, Prince Schlatt.”

“Jonathon.”

The name escapes his lips before he can stop it.

“Hmm?” You hum, pull your head from his shoulder to look him in the eye, your brows furrowed.

His eyes meet your and his heart pounds quickly in his chest. His stomach turning over and over again, churning with nerves. “Jonathon. My name is Jonathon. Call me Jonathon.”

“Jonathon.” You echo.

Schlatt takes back his previous thoughts. Several people have called him his given name before. But this? Now? When it falls from your lips? It is certainly the sweetest it has ever sounded.

He gives a small nod with a shy smile.

“I forgive you, Jonathon.”

He could pass away right then and there.

“I’m sorry I had to step on your feet so you could dance me around the ballroom.”

“I forgive you… would you like me to teach you how to dance?”

“Would you?”

“I would. I wouldn’t offer if I wouldn’t.”

“I don’t want to dance in front of everyone.”

“Who said anything about going back to the ballroom. We can dance right here.”

Schlatt leads you through several steps very slowly, picking up the pace only after he was sure you were comfortable with the steps.

Soon enough you were dancing like a pro. So much so that you could focus on the conversation between the two of you rather than the steps you were taking.

The two of you talked and danced privately in the gardens all night. You offered several times to go back to the ballroom, the man throwing the ball should at least be in there for longer than a couple moments. He ignored that and said he would rather spend time with the one he threw it for. You can’t help but blush at that.

You’re having such a fun time that you almost forget about the magic’s stipulation. Almost.

Jonathon spins you around once more, and pulls you in close to his chest. When you look up at him, you see he’s suddenly a lot closer than you realized. “Oh!” you let out softly. “Sorry,” you apologize, going to move away.

Jonathon’s hold on you tightens, keeping you in place. “No need to be sorry… I like having you close,” he whispers. Your eyes stray down to his lips as he speaks. They look so soft… so plush… so kissable.

“I like being close to you,” the confession uttered before you can stop it.

The corners of his lips up turn in a small smile. The two of you stand there, frozen in time for a moment before he begins to lean in. You move to meet him. Your lips are about to meet when the grandfather clock that sits across the garden echoes out a loud chime.

It causes you to jump and turn to look at it.

It’s midnight.

“Oh fuck.” You let out. “Is that clock accurate?” You ask, pulling yourself from Jonathan’s arms.

He frowns, brows furrowing slightly, following your gaze. “Oh that old thing? Uhhh, just about. It’s 15 minutes fast. Why?”

You ignore his question and begin to move back toward the inside of the castle. “Fuck. I have to go. I’m sorry. I’ll see you later. I have to go.”

“Wait,” He calls after you, calling your name. “Slow down. Come back. Please. You don’t have to leave.”

“You don’t understand,” You call back, picking up your pace. “I do.”

Without paying attention, you burst back into the ballroom. Several eyes falling on you, eyebrows raised. You pay no mind still and run, trying to push your way past everyone in the room, but people keep coming up to you to talk to you.

A hand on your wrist spins you around and you lock eyes with those beautiful chestnuts you’ve grown so fond of. His eyes scream worry and panic, silently begging you to stop running.

You yourself must look panicked and frantic in a different way. Like a wild animal that has been caged and is about to start lashing out.

“Please.” You whisper. “Help me.”

The grip on your wrist loosens. Schlatt may not understand, but he will always do everything he can in order to be the person you need at any given moment.

“Everyone!” He calls out loudly, moving towards the refreshment table. “Please come over here and join me in a toast to celebrate this evening.”

The crowd instantly leaves you, allowing you a path to exit the room and then the castle. You’ve never been happier to see the grass as you are now.

“Stop! Wait! Halt in the name of the Prince!” You turn slightly and look over your shoulder and find a knight with fluffy brown hair and square glasses chasing after you. In the moment, you recognize him as Charlie, one of Schlatt’s best friends/knights.

“Oh fuck!” You shout. The magic was starting to fade already, you can tell, because all of the sudden it was hard to run in your glass shoes. You bend down and kick them both into your awaiting hands. You turn for a sharp moment, throwing one of your shoes at the knight. He lets out a loud startled scream, stopping for just long enough for you to run to your carriage.

“Go! Go! Go!” You shout at your footmen and lady. They waste no time before kicking up and bolting out and away from the palace. You look out the window and find Charlie has stopped chasing you, one hand on his hip, the other holding your glass shoe up to the light in an inspection.

You slump back in your seat, letting out a deep sigh.

“That was way too close.”

After getting all of his guests to make a toast, Schlatt books it out of the ballroom. He races to the front lawn. His head whips back and forth, peering down the road to try and see any sign of a moving carriage.

Footsteps sound from either side of him. His head turns and he meets the eyes of Ted who gives a pitying look and a shake of his head. Schlatt looks to the other side and meets Charlie’s eyes who also shakes his head. His eyes drift down to Charlie’s hands, and there was the shoe. Your beautiful glass shoe.

Schlatt slowly reaches out and carefully takes the shoe from his friend’s grasp and clutches it to his chest. He turns his eyes back down the main road, staring off letting out a soft sigh. Hands clasp on both of his shoulders in a silent comfort.

The magic faded when you were nearly home. You had to herd a sheep, two mice, and your carrier pigeon back home all while carrying your big ass pumpkin in slightly damp clothes barefoot as you had thrown your one shoe and taken off the other. Your shoe though did not fade with the magic, you weren’t sure if that made you happy or sad. By the time you made it back, you were exhausted. You quickly put everything back where it was supposed to go, taking a quick shower, tucking the shoe under your bed, and collapsing in your room.

You’re not sure how long you were asleep for before the door to your room slammed open. It startles you awake from your deep sleep. You look up and in a silhouette from the hallway light, is your stepmother. Your heart leaps to your throat, trying to take deep breaths in through your nose trying to calm down.

“Stepmother,” you greet groggily. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You insolent child.” She hisses. “I thought I made myself very clear. You were not to go to the ball. And what do you do, but steal the prince away for the whole evening?”

“I do not know what you’re speaking about, stepmother.”

She shoots a sharp glare at you. “You know exactly what I speak of… No matter. With the way you went running from the ball I’m sure the prince realized his mistake. Choosing you to dance and spend time with. With the way he let you go, I’m sure it’s that he realized you are not and will never be good enough for him. You? A low life orphan baker? Royalty? Never.”

Her words sting like the venom they are. But you can’t help but realize she’s right. No matter what you do, you’ll always be an orphan that so happens to be good at baking. You would be an awful royal.

Maybe that’s why he chose to help you escape rather than continue to chase after you.

Maybe he realized it too.

You will the tears to not fall as you stick your chin out a little further. “I do not know what you’re speaking about, stepmother. Now if you don’t mind I’d like to get some more sleep.”

She is a touch surprised at your instance, certain that her words would break you. She gives you another glare, but grabs the doorknob and slams the door to your bedroom.

You flop back on your bed and stare up at the ceiling for a long moment. You don’t realize you’re crying until the tears pool in your ear canal. You bring your hands up and wipe them away, rolling onto your side and clutching at one of your pillows.

You had to end it… whatever it was.

The clock on his wall warns him it’s 3 am, but Schlatt ignores it in favor of pacing back and forth in front of a table where the shoe was perched. Every so often he paused to look over the shoe before pacing again.

“Why did you run?” He asks the shoe, staring at it as if it will give a response. “Where did you go… why did you throw this shoe at Charlie’s head?” A small smile breaks on his face as he pictures the scene Charlie described to him three hours ago. “I would have given anything to see it… to be there myself… to stop you myself.”

He stands still for a moment longer before pacing again.

“Maybe… maybe you found it all to be too much…” He speaks, slowing down his steps. “It all caught up to you… didn’t it. It all sank in. You realized truly who I was and you had to get out… You… you don’t want me.”

He stops again, plopping down on the edge of his bed. “I suppose I can’t fault you… But I deeply wish you hadn’t run.” He flops backwards and stares up at the ceiling.

It was going to end… whatever it was.

Schlatt didn’t realize that he had fallen asleep until he wakes up. He spends a good amount of time staring up at the ceiling. Every knock on the door gets a “go away” as he lays in bed wallowing in his own self pity. The knocks stop for a couple hours. But then they’re back again.

Schlatt startles out of his thought spiral and this knock on the door, this one louder than all the others. He groans at the sound, rolling over on his side and tugging a pillow over his head, blocking out most of the noise. “Go away,” He calls out, tucking himself into his bed further.

The silence makes him believe whoever was outside listened to him. That is until the door opens and shuts behind him. He groans from the back of his throat, rolling himself over and sitting up. “I said, go away-- father-” He interrupts himself as his eyes meet his father’s green ones.

Philza raises an eyebrow and the corners of his lips turn up slightly at his son’s behavior. “Good day to you too, Jonathan.”

“Good day, dad.” Schlatt mumbles, sitting himself up properly. Schlatt moves his feet up slightly to make room for Philza as he moves and sits down on the end of Schlatt’s bed.

Philza’s hand smooths over the blankets as he gives a glance around the room. His eyes catch on the shoe, still propped up on the table. “They gave you their shoe?” He asks, amusement lacing his tone.

Schlatt huffs a laugh. “More like, threw it at Charlie’s head.”

Philza doesn’t hold back and lets the laugh escape his lips. “Oh I knew I liked them. You picked well son. An excellent love match.”

Schlatt sighs and turns to lay on his side, back facing his dad. “Apparently not. She ran away. I assume because she couldn’t handle me… who I really am. I don’t blame her after all the time I spent lying to her.”

Phil furrows his brow and questions what Schlatt means by that. With nothing left to hide, Schlatt divulges the entire relationship. How they met and met again (which Phil was not happy about but decided now was not the time to bring it up) and how they sent letters to each other nearly everyday and how he knew they didn’t know his name but never told them his name or who he really is. How he had thrown the ball hoping they’d come and they did and how it has all been for them but it’s all been for nother.

Phil nods along, listening carefully. He lets Schlatt take deep breaths after his rant. “I knew something was up.” Schlatt meets his eyes, curious but does not speak. “You’ve been so much happier in these past few weeks than I can remember… And you were so insistent on a love match. Deep down I knew… So my only question is why the hell are you moping around this room when you should be out there looking for them?”

“Didn’t you hear me, dad? They don’t want me. They ran away.”

“Did they tell you they didn’t want you? Look you in the eyes and say ‘Prince Schlatt I do not want you?’”

“No but--”

“No buts, son. I haven’t seen you this happy in years. I know that you’re in love with them, whether you realize it or not. I know because you look at them the same way I look at your mother. And they wouldn’t have spent the whole night with you if they didn’t love you too. They wouldn’t have given you a clue telling you to come get them if they didn’t.” Philza motions to the shoe. “So again, I ask you. Why the hell are you moping around this room when you should be out there looking for them?”

The words resonate with Schlatt, filling him with hope, that maybe, just maybe you love him like he loves you… damn. Yeah. He loves you.

“You’re right… I have to go dad, I have to…” Schlatt shoots up out of bed and digs through his closet and throws on a random outfit. “I have to get Ted and Charlie and a whole group and we have to go looking. Door to door. I have to find them. I am going to find them.” He runs a hand through his hair before whipping around to face his father with a grin. He rushes forward and presses a kiss on his father’s cheek. “Thanks, dad.”

You sat staring at the blank piece of paper in front of you. What to say to the man that makes you feel everything. You twirl your pen in between your fingers a couple times. Letting out a sigh, you lean back for a moment, looking out the window. Your attention gets caught by the pigeon beside you who lets out a coo. You sigh again, reaching out and giving the bird scritches. “Hey there,” you murmur. The bird leans into your fingers, rubbing against you more. “Yeah… I know this letter won’t write itself.” The bird cocks its head and coos. “Yeah, just one more letter… a goodbye. I know you must be excited, you won’t have to carry my messages anymore.” Another coo. “Well, of course I’ll let you fly around outside. I’m not a monster.” It blinks at you. “Well I have to tell him something! I can’t just stop speaking to him. I need him to know… It’s quite literally not him. It’s me. I’ll never deserve him… no matter how much I care… for him.” The bird lets out a sharp and short coo. “Fucking hell. You’re right. I love him. Gods damn it I love him so much. Oh this is going to be a nightmare.”

Schlatt sighs in frustration as he and his knights trudge to the castle. They’ve knocked on every single door in the kingdom and not a single one did you stand behind it. The sun was setting the knights stomachs were grumbling so Schlatt decided to call it a day and head back to the castle, determined to start again tomorrow.

He picks at his dinner, tossing and turning it over with his fork, giving half hearted replies to questions that he’s really not paying attention to. He can’t help but replay every interaction he’s had with you over again, followed closely by several notable interactions he had throughout the day. One where the woman had caked her face in flour hoping to prove herself to be the baker. Another that when she answered the door said “I am not interested!” with a smug smile, as if she really did something, and then slammed the door in his face. As if he would be interested in her? He very clearly was looking for someone.

His head is heavy with everyone he’s seen and spoken to today, he’s just ready to turn in for the night.

And then he hears it.

That beautiful coo he’s grown accustomed to listening for every day. The tell tale sign that you have sent him a letter. It’s Bob. Your carrier pigeon.

And he has a letter attached to his leg.

Schlatts posture instantly straightens and he holds out his finger, letting out a soft coo of his own. Everyone turned in confusion and watched Schlatt. Ted was about to speak before Bob landed on his fingers and stuck out his leg. Schlatt carefully took the rolled paper and fed the pigeon a couple nuts

Schlatt carefully unrolled the letter and began to read.

My dearest, Prince Charming,

I guess now that I know who you truly are it is only correct that I change the sir in your title to Prince. My prince… I had the most magical time last evening with you. Dancing around in your private garden is certainly something I will never forget and will always be grateful for. It was so incredibly sweet of you to give me your undivided attention.

It unfortunately has come to my own attention that I am not good for you. I do not deserve you my sweet prince. I could never be someone that you deserve. I am a simple orphan that happens to be good at baking. No matter how hard I would try, you would always be way out of my league.

I hope you find the love match that you seek. I hope you find someone good and kind, with a loving heart that will deserve you and be someone worthy of your love and care. Someone worthy of you throwing an entire ball for them. I don’t know how I ever thought I could be that person. I am so sorry…

I love you, Jonathon.

But you deserve so much more than me.

Yours,

Your name is signed at the bottom of the letter as it always is. He reads the second to last line, once, twice, a thousand times, until he’s convinced himself that it’s real. That you really wrote that you love him. He didn’t care about the other stuff that you wrote. Well he kind of did. But he knew it was bullshit. If anything it’s him who doesn’t deserve you.

If only he could find you to tell you this….

And then it hits him.

He springs up from the table and rushes out, startling everyone in the dining room with him. The pigeon flaps its wings and lands on his shoulder, used to being carted around. Schlatt runs to his room where he grabs a pen and paper of his own. He scribbles “I love you,” before snatching the shoe off the table and rushing outside. Ted and Charlie rush out behind him, confused at the rush.

“Schlatt, what are we doing?” They ask.

Schlatt elects to ignore them as he hands Bob the messily rolled piece of paper. “Here, Bob. Show me the way to them.” Bob takes the paper, coos softly, and takes off.

Schlatt instantly begins to race after the bird, Ted and Charlie following close behind. How relieved he was to finally find a way to find you. Bob would certainly lead him to you. He could only hope he could keep up with the bird.

Schlatt was feeling winded by the time he reached the small house on the edge that borders the kingdom and the forest. He hadn’t thought to make his way all the way out here, thinking you lived closer to the village with the way you walked to the market. Obviously he had been wrong.

Either way, he could only pray that Bob had led him to the right place.

He couldn’t tell if the tightness in his chest and the shortness of breath was just from him running all this way or if it was his nerves. He decided to call it ‘a bit of column a and a little of column b’ and call it a night.

The three approached the door, each taking deep breaths calming themselves from the journey taken to get here. Schlatt looks over his shoulder apprehensively at Ted and Charlie. He had knocked on over a hundred doors today, it didn’t make sense that this was the one he got nervous on.

His best friends each gave him an easy smile and a kind and encouraging nod, eager for the prince to knock. Schlatt turned back to the door, letting out a breath, shaking his arms out, before reaching up and giving a sturdy knock.

It’s silent on the other side of the door for a long moment. Schlatt’s heart pounds so hard in his chest he has to swallow hard to get it back down to his chest. The door know turns quickly and the door is pulled open and an older woman stands before him. He tries to not let his disappointment show, especially as surprise and utter delight paints her face.

The woman drops to a quick curtsy. “Your highness,” she greets. Her voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard and it takes everything Schlatt has to not visibly recoil. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

A small bout of hope flutters down his spine causing Schlatt to stand straighter at the word “we.” “I am not sure if you have heard, but have been searching the entire kingdom for the one I danced with last night. Do you have any children, my lady?”

The woman brightens up even more and squares her shoulders back. “As a matter of fact I do. I have two.” The woman turns and cups her mouth. “GIRLS,” She hollers, causing the boys to shutter at the loud call.

Footsteps race across the wooden floor and two younger women appear. Schlatt feels a huge wave of disappointment was over his being as he looks at their faces and realizes they’re not you. He doesn’t hide his distaste as the girls push each other, trying to stand straighter and puff out their chest larger than the other.

“Neither of these young women are who I am looking forward… Does anyone else live here? A servant or a stable hand? Perhaps a cook?” Schlatt asks, taking a single step forward, looking around the room hoping for some kind of sign of you.

The woman’s face sours at the question before her mask gets put back in it’s place. “No one else, your highness. Although I can assure you, my daughters are perfectly suitable--”

“What’s that?” Schlatt interrupts as a noise sounds from one of the adjacent rooms. It sounded like metal being set down on a counter. “I thought you said no one else lived here.”

The woman swallows harshly and moves to stand in front of the door. “That… that is just the cook your highness, they do not live here… or at least soon will not,” she mutters the latter part with venom before turning back to Schlatt, a perfect smile posing on her lips. “No one to concern yourself with, truly.”

Any sense of trust for the woman is washed away when the scent hits his nose. He would be able to pick that scent out of a million different ones. It’s one of the best things he’s ever smelled.

He would be able to recognize the scent of your double chocolate chip cookies.

And he knows you’re in there.

“By order of the king, I demand you step aside.” He barely recognizes his voice as it escapes his lips. It’s deep and authoritative… damn as each day passes he sounds more and more like his father… he’ll have to correct that.

The woman opens his lips to protest.

Deciding he wants to hear no more of his voice, he gently pushes the woman’s shoulder out of the way. His hand finds the door knob and he throws open the door without care. He breath is ripped from his lungs as he sees the person who stands in the kitchen… in front of those unmistakable chocolate chocolate chip cookies.

“It’s you.”

The door slamming open scares the shit out of you.

The entire day you had been lost in your own head. You finished the letter and gave it to your pigeon to take to Schlatt. As soon as it had left your sight, you made your way to the kitchen in a daze where you let yourself begin baking whatever your heart was feeling in the moment.

It was only when you were beginning to clean up the batter dishes did you realize what you had made… and who you had made it for. You let yourself drift back into your head as you watched the cookies bake through the oven window. You knew you would probably never see him again. Especially not after this letter.

You took them out of the oven and let the pan clatter to the counter without much of a care. The soft cooing of your pigeon drew your attention away. You turned to greet it when you caught sight of the paper on it’s leg. Confusion fills you as you carefully take the paper.

I love you.

It can’t be.

The door bursts open, causing you to jump and whip around. Those damn fucking beautiful eyes. They always seem to follow you. To haunt you. Especially in your own house, those fucking chesnut brown eyes that say everything that you want to hear all without saying a word.

“It’s you.”

Oh fuck he’s actually here.

What the fuck?

What is he doing here???

“What are you doing here?”

His eyes don’t leave yours as he surges forward. One of his arms wraps around your waist, the other moving behind your neck, hand moving up to cradle the back of your head. “What are you doing here? Why did you run away?”

You stare at him in disbelief, mouth opening and closing a few times. “Did you not get my letter? I’m no good for you, Jon--Prince Schlatt, I do not deserve you, your highness. You deserve someone much better than me. Surely you--”

“Don’t you understand,” he whispers, cutting you off. “There is no one better.”

“But your highness--”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What?”

“You know what. Don’t call me that. That’s not my name. Not to you.”

You let out a sigh and rub your flour coated hands on your apron. “Jonathon.”

The smile that spreads across his face nearly makes you melt into a puddle. “There it is.” He murmurs, drawing his face closer to yours. “That’s my name.”

“Jonathon,” You repeat, trying to pull your blushing face away from his to no avail. You clear your throat and continue. “As per my letter, you deserve so much better than me. I am sure you can find someone-”

“Did you mean it?”

You look at him partly confused, partly annoyed at him continuing to interrupt you. “Mean what?”

“Did you mean it when you signed that you love me?”

Your heart stops in your chest. You forgot you said that part. You don’t think you would have said it had you known it would have caused him to come bursting into your kitchen. You look at him in disbelief, is he not hearing your words? He surely read the letter. Why is he being so insistent on this?

You could never lie to him though.

You clear your throat and move your shoulders back. You meet his eyes head on. “Yes. I did. But-”

“I love you too.”

The world stops again. “What?”

“As per my letter,” he says, a shit eating grin playing on his lips. The shock flowing through your body stops you from rolling your eyes. “I love you.”

You remember the small piece of paper that was surely on the floor now that you took from the pigeon just moments ago. Obviously that’s who the paper was from. You swallow hard. “Sure you can’t-”

“But surely I can. I think I’ve been in love with you ever since you called me a big petty man-baby who looked hotter now than I did before.”

“I… I…’”

“I love you,” He utters, moving impossibly closer to your face. “I always have. You are all I want. You deserve so much better than me… But I’m hoping you’ll lower your standards and settle for me anyway.”

His eyes shine so brightly. Those damn, fucking, beautiful eyes. They stare at you, hopeful, waiting with bated breath for your answer. They stare so intensely at you… You never want them to look away.

It’s you that closes the distance and presses your lips to his. He instantly responds, tugging you closer to his chest and kissing you back. The kiss makes your body sing in delight. The spark starts at the base of your spine where his hand connects to your body and shoots out, encasing you completely. From the tippity top of your head to the bippity bottom of your toes.

He consumes you. Completely. Totally. Entirely.

You pull away breathless from the kiss, meeting his eyes. “I love you, Jonathon. I want to be yours. Please. I want to be yours, if you’ll have me?”

Jonathon lets out a breathless laugh and shakes his head once. “Oh sweets, you’ve always been mine. I’ve always been yours. From the moment I met you. I’ve been hooked, sweets. You’re mine, and I’m never letting you go.”

He leans forward again and presses his lips to yours. You eagerly respond, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

After you break apart again, Schlatt tells you to pack your things. You don’t have much here anyway so it doesn’t take you long. Your step family could only watch with crossed arms as you moved about, taking your things. You would miss the house you grew up in, but you were more than excited to begin your new journey.

Schlatt made Ted and Charlie help carry your things. Ted cursed at Schlatt for not thinking to grab a carriage or at least a horse in the pursuit of you. That spun a whole argument between the two, leaving you to converse with Charlie.

You gave the man a shy smile. “Sorry for throwing my shoe at you… I panicked about someone following me.

Charlie gives a chuckle and a smile. “It’s no worries. I’m just glad you made it home safely.”

“Yeah me too! The magic gave out and I was left carrying a huge ass pumpkin home… My back hurt like hell this morning.”

Charlie tilts his head and gives you a curious look. “Not what I meant… but I do want to hear more about this magic.”

“What did you mean then?”

Charlie doesn’t answer, his head simply moves to where Schlatt and Ted were now in a physical altercation, Schlatt attempting to put Ted in a chokehold.

A fuzzy feeling floods your chest.

He is your home… isn’t he?

Small Epilogue

The two of you marry quickly. The royal family welcome you with open arms. They help teach you the ways of the royals but never make you feel less than for being a commoner before the marriage. You never stop baking, you think Schlatt would throw a huge fit if you ever did. He constantly blamed you for his “twink death.” And although you’re not entire sure what that means, you’re sure that happened way before he met you.

You two love each other openly and loudly. It brings smiles to everyone’s faces to see the prince this lovey dovey with someone. There will always be those that disapprove, but Schlatt is there to hold your hand and tell them to fuck off.

He reminds you he loves you every single minute of every single day… you think maybe he lays it on a little thick in particular when he wants you to bake something in particular. You never mind though. It’s your baked goods that brought you together in the first place.

Who are you to deny your love the thing that the two of you bonded over first?

Especially when he loves you with every fiber of his being…

…and maybe even more so when you make him chocolate chocolate chip cookies…

And they lived happily ever after. The End

As per usual, I am shit at writing endings. Thank you for reading my 16.3k word self indulgent fic <3

Leave a like, comment, or reblog if you enjoyeddddd

okay byeeeeeeee back to my several year hiatusssss

im still on tumblr even if i don't post my writing so you can always message meeeeeeee <3

byeeeeeeeeee <3

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asarajaa · 7 months ago

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hi sarah 🥰

it’s so hard to find regular blue lock writers omg

can i make a request? it’s alright if you can’t tho

can i request the reader meeting chigiri’s mother and sister after the u20 match? i feel like it’d be so funny bc they kinda embarrassed him during the match by calling out to him lmao 😭

imagine him getting embarrassed by them in front of his gf (who they didn’t know about until they saw her at the u20 match, she’s like the manager of bllk) and he tries to drag her away but ends up getting teased by his sister 🥰

Hii, ikr? I'm dying to find a good bllk ffc author 😩

Just woke up, had breakfast and went straight on it 🫡

Hope you like it!

Warnings: Implied fem!reader Words: 627 Disclaimer: English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

The stadium buzzed with excitement as the U-20 match between Blue Lock and their rivals reached its climax. Chigiri's performance on the field was incredible, his skill and determination evident with every move. Meanwhile, in the stands, you watched intently, the official manager of Blue Lock, cheering on the team you had grown so close to.

As the match concluded with Blue Lock's victory, the players celebrating in the field with the enthusiastic cheers of the crowd as background. You couldn't be more proud of them, a bunch of teenager boys- your teenager boys- just win against profesional team. Chigiri, in the middle of celebreting his win with his teamates, locked eyes with you.

You smiled brightly, so brightly that your watery eyes were half-closed by your big smile. Chigiri start running at your spot in the stands, ready to start a conversation with you.

"Hey, we win" he said breathlessly, a broad smile on his face as he reached you.

"I know, baby! You did it so well I'm so proud of you!" you replied with enthusiasm, jumping to give him a big bear hug. "You guys did it! You guys won- and you're my guys! My boyfriend just won against Japans u-20!

Chigiri just laughed as he lifted you off the ground and spun you around.

Before your conversation could continue, a voice interrupted from behind. "Chigiri!"

Letting you down, you turned around and you saw a woman approaching, her features mirroring Chigiri's in a softer, maternal way. Beside her was a younger girl, who bore a striking resemblance to Chigiri.

"Mom, Sis," Chigiri exclaimed, a mix of delight and apprehension in his voice.

His mother's eyes twinkled with pride. "You were amazing out there, sweetie! We're so proud of you."

Chigiri's sister nodded in agreement, but whe her gaze shifted to you she grinned mischievously. "And who's this? You're not gonna introduce her to us?" she asked, her tone playful.

Chigiri's cheeks reddened slightly. "Uh, this is y/n," he introduced, glancing at you nervous but happily. "She's the team manager... and my girlfriend." He ended up with a big soft smile

Both his mother and sister looked pleasantly surprised. "Oh, we didn't know you had a girlfriend!" his mother exclaimed, her smile widening.

"And a beautiful one!" his sister continued while she gave you a smile. "Damn, Chigiri," she teased, her eyes dancing with amusement. "You never told us you had such good taste in girlfriends."

Chigiri's embarrassment finally showed, and he tried to subtly nudge you away. "Mom, Sis-please." he muttered.

Chigiri's face turned an even brighter shade of red, much to the amusement of his family. You couldn't help but chuckle at the scene unfolding before you.

"It's a pleasure finally meeting you, Chigiri has told me a lot of things about you." You decided to step in, giving them a little but a respectful bow.

His mother beamed. "Well, it's lovely to finally meet you too. You must come over for dinner sometime."

"Who knew that the boy who used to make dance shows for his family would get a girlfriend? Where did our little singer, dancer and hairdresser go huh?" His sister said teasing.

Chigiri shot you an imploring look, silently begging for some form of rescue. But his sister only grinned wider, clearly enjoying her older brother's predicament.

As you exchanged pleasantries with Chigiri's family, you couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for this young man who had captured your heart. Despite his embarrassment, seeing him interact with his loved ones-and knowing you're one of them made your heart skipped a beat- filled you with warmth. Maybe, just maybe, these unexpected family encounters would be a new chapter in your relationship with Chigiri—a chapter that both of you will be expecting with enthusiasm.

Idk what I just write, I did my best so here you go :)

Please, feel free so send more request! I have a whole month free 'cause I'm getting recovered from a surgery so I have a lot of time.

26/04/24

#chigiri hyoma #blue lock #blue lock x reader #asarajas works (bllk)#asarajas works #chigiri x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk x you #chigiri hyoma x reader

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pedrisbanana · 2 years ago

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could you write something where the reader moved in and her house is next to pedri’s one her window is also next to pedri’s one so every time she gets changed she does it in front of the window to tease her next neighbor

Warning: It's not really dark, but it leans towards it a little bit

The thin line between imagination and reality...

Enjoy 🍌

Ghosting Touch

The first time it happened, you didn't really pay attention. Maybe you were delusional, because why should someone watch you ?

The second time it happened, you stared for a little longer through the window on the other side, but you couldn't really see anything... or rather anyone. So you continued you moisture and got dressed as usual.

The third time, a pair of eyes flickered back, being gone as soon as he spotted you. You held the towel to your chest, counting the seconds before moving on as well.

From that moment something challenged you. Maybe it was the way his eyes raked over your freshly showered, naked body or it was the way he acted like nothing happened whenever you greeted each other at the doorstep.

He was interesting...

You didn't really know much about your next door neighbor. He must be around your age. His name was Pedro and he lived together with his brother. Pedro drove a green Mini Cooper and a black Supra Formentor.

When you introduced yourself, he was friendly and his voice calm. He was attractive and had an athletic build, but he wasn't tall. You barely needed to tilt your chin to look at him. Pedro often had a friend over. He called him Gavi.

He must be rich, you figured.

This neighborhood wasn't cheap, your own apartment being paid by the scholarship you got for your studies. You didn't know what he worked, being home most of the time. Maybe he's an heir and doesn't need to work.

What you knew was, that it became some sort of ritual. Him peeking behind his window when you moisturized and dressed after showering or when you got dressed in the mornings.

He never stared at you like some creep, he seemed rather admiring, like he was looking at a painting or a sculpture.

Pedro's stare wasn't making you uncomfortable either. You enjoyed giving him a show, which made you sometimes feel like a creep.

It was never too sexual tho. Just a quick pinch to your hardened nipple. Your hands lingering a little too long on your chest. Thumbs skimming just above the spot between your thighs. A little bite into your lower lip.

And it's not like you masturbated or something. You couldn't see if he did. Hopefully not, right ?

Sometimes, at night, you imagined him. On top of you. Lips exploring your skin, worshipping you the way his eyes did. His hands spreading the moisturizer.

You felt ashamed when you silently screamed his name into your pillow in ecstasy.

Today felt different.

When you stepped into your bedroom, you shivered. Closing the window to the small balcony, you observed the other side. The architecture of the two houses was symmetrical. You couldn't see him. You swore that you had closed the window prior to your shower.

Usually he stood next to the tall window, body barely hidden by darkness and the thick fabric of his curtains.

Today, sunlight gleamed into the room. The corner of the bed told you he also used it as a bedroom. Maybe his own ?

Backing away, you went over to your drawer. It was already noon, so you decided on a light blue tank top with lace detail and some sweatpants.

Reaching for the lowest drawer, you paused. It wasn't fully shut. You were sure you didn't leave it open.

Inside, every pair of panties was as neatly folded as usual, so you pushed the weird feeling away that nudged at your brain. The choice was easy, light blue cotton with a small bow. Matching.

You put the clothes atop of your neatly folded duvet where you had already thrown the bottle of moisturizer before showering. Taking another peek through the window, disappointment made your lips into a frown.

He wasn't there. It made you unsure. He was always there, why not today ?

Shaking your head at your silliness, you loosened the knot of your towel and let it fall to the floor to pool at your feet.

But it never pooled at your feet. The familiar deep voice startled you.

"Missing me, hermosa ?" his warm hand clamped over your mouth, but you didn't scream.

You couldn't. His presence made you freeze.

Noticing this, he dropped his hand and leaned towards the bed. His clothed front pressed against your naked body, making you shudder.

Your gaze dropped to his hands, now encircling you, watching him put some of the moisturizer in his hand. A black ring decorated his left ring finger. You had never noticed him wearing a ring.

His lips found your neck, softly pecking and nibbling the skin. The feeling was unbelievable.

"Close your eyes."

You did. The only sound being heard now was his hands rubbing the moisturizer between them.

When his hands first touched your skin, you flinched from the cold. He started with your stomach, carefully spreading the liquid. It surprised you that his hands didn't stay at your private parts, but rather move up to your navel again, after making sure everything was decently moisturized down there.

Whispering sweet nothings into your neck, he focused on your chest. He mapped out every detail. The pads of his fingertips played with adding and releasing pressure.

You were breathless.

"Pedro..." you whimpered as he found your nipples. They were hard pearls and he rubbed them between his fingers.

"Shhh" his voice soothed you, luring you even more into his spell. He licked his lips, you felt his wet tongue under your ear.

You felt him reach forward again, probably to get some more of the lotion. Pedro stepped away so he could focus on your back. A feeling of emptiness spread through your body at the loss of his warmth against you.

His hands were rougher now, kneading the sore muscles. He seemed to find every tension and knot. You wondered how he knew exactly where to massage you.

He reached down again, this time giving your shoulder a little kiss. Being softer while putting the cream on your arms, he took each one to his full attention, Kissing your hand softly before letting go.

The whole situation had your senses heightened. His touch erecting every nerve ending in your body. It had moisture collecting between your thighs and you hoped he wouldn't stop anytime soon.

Putting one hand one your hip he leaned his chin on your shoulder, hints of stubble scratching your spoiled skin.

Your lips parted slightly as he started to speak again.

"That's a pretty color. Also, I have a thing for lace. You know me so well, amor"

You felt like he was looking directly at your face, but you didn't dare to open your eyes. He guided your hands through the straps of the tank top you had laid out before.

It made you clench your thighs. There was something unbearably erotic of him dressing you, instead of undressing you. Like you were a doll. His doll.

Making sure to keep your eyes shut, you helped him put the cotton over your head. Luckily you didn't wash your hair in the shower. The way he took your hair out from under the top made your spine tingly.

His hands brushed your nipples again when pulling down the hem. Purposely, you figured.

He held your hand.

"Lay on the bed." his voice was calm and steady. Did this leave him completely unbothered ?

Relaxing on the duvet, he pushed you to the edge of the bed. He kneeled in between your legs now. You hoped he didn't see how turned on you were by him.

He set your foot on his shoulder, spreading the lotion up to your groin. Goosebumps erupted on your skin and you had the urge to touch yourself.

Feeling the need to give your body the pleasure it was begging you for, your clit was begging you for. His plush lips ghosted over your ankle and the barely there sensation almost had you moaning his name.

Taking a deep breath, you concentrated. He worked his way down the other leg, giving no less attention. When he kissed your ankle this time, you pushed your hips up.

He chuckled, which made you even wetter. Still holding onto your ankle, he pushed forward so that your thigh was now resting on his shoulder. The material of his shirt felt soft against your leg.

You waited for the feeling of his mouth, but he didn't move forward. Instead, he reached up and guided your hand towards your centre. His fingers over yours, you felt how your excitement coated you both.

You moaned as he lead your fingertips over your clit in circular motions. Back arching, you decided not to hold back anymore. For what ?

It wouldn't take you long to explode, so you kept the attention on your bundle of nerves, but Pedro pushed your hand down to your slit.

He pushed two of your fingers inside, making you clench around yourself. The heel of your hand grazed your clit ever so often, a familiar feeling building in your lower stomach.

Suddenly, you felt him push two fingers of his inside, underneath yours. He pushed them in every time you pushed out. Your body was on fire.

His name on your lips, you pushed your hips to meet the thrusts of his and your fingers inside of you. Your other hand sneaked underneath your top to play with your breasts.

Your pace became quicker and you thrust your hips into emptiness, until a wave of pleasure came over you. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip, you rode out your orgasm, enjoying every second of it.

Your whole body was shaking and your toes curled at the image of Pedro watching this exact moment.

You couldn't keep your eyes shut any longer. You had to look at him, even if you were scared of the aftermath.

When you calmed your breath and the hazing dizziness in your head faded away, you opened your eyes.

Nothing.

You propped up on your elbows to sit up, but you were alone. Looking around, your apartment hadn't changed. No one seemed to be here.

But it felt so real. He felt so real.

Sighing, you got up to clean up. Slowly, but surely you were going crazy.

After putting on your panties and sweats you decided to go to sleep, since apparently you needed it. Much.

The next day, you decided to go for a run after breakfast to clear your head and you had a feeling it really helped you. You kept on the clothes from last night, throwing them in the hamper afterwards anyway.

When you reached your home again, you took a peek in the mailbox as usual.

A letter from FC Barcelona dropped into your hands. Adressed not to you, but to Pedri Gonzalez - Lopez.

Pedri. A nickname. Interesting.

Or not. He was probably just a fan.

Deciding not to snoop, you made your way over to his house and rang the doorbell. Hopefully he was already awake.

After a few minutes, he opened the door.

"Buenos dias. Up so early already ? What can I do for you ?" he smiled at you.

It threw you a little off guard and you didn't even know why. You cleared your throat.

"Buenos dias. Umm.. this was in my mail box" God, you couldn't even look him in the eyes.

Handing him the letter, you stopped. There was a familiar black ring decorating his finger.

No. That would mean he...

That would mean last night wasn't a dream and he actually broke into your house. No. It was probably just a coincidence.

"So.. aren't you gonna let go ?" he cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh yes, sure. I'm sorry"

You really needed to get a grip. Or a doctor. Or both.

"Thank you, have a nice day." he smiled again. "By the way... I really like that color. It suits you."

Pedri winked and closed the door, leaving you flushed and startled.

Oh, what a realistic imagination you had.

A/N: I know this probably isn't what you had in mind when requesting but I hope you still enjoy reading.

A slightly darker, but still intriguing take. Yes I know that Pedri would probably never ever do this, but maybe it was all just the readers' fantasy anyway 😝

Let me know what you think 💕

#pedri smut #pedri gonzalez #pedri fanfic #pedri one shot #pedri x reader #pedro gonzález lópez

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tmwcs · 1 year ago

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hiiiiii reinna i love ur work it makes my day everytime i read it lmaooo <333

i was wondering if u could make a fic abt sunoo like youre the 8th member of enhypen and since youre not that girly or act cute like the other female idols instead kinda tomboy and baddie sunoo finds you annoying cos hes not used to it but the other members r fine. one day after dance practice (y/n and jungwon r roomates) saurrr jungwon told yn the tea abt sunoo hating her but yn secretly likes sunoo. So after jungwon left to go somehwere idk shopping?? Yn cried n cried n cried and u can basically use ur creative imagination for the rest 👻👻 pls make it smut at the end tho i love it 👻👻👻

Thanksssssss miss bestest ever writter everrrr!! 1!111!1 ❤️❤️❤️

"Ddeonu....."

@reyna-ohno - I hope i did you justice ;)

Warnings: unprotected smut, fingering, gossiping, enemies to lovers trope, some minor angst, cursing's, a little bit of hate sex....and i think that's it. to make it more believable, Y/n has her own room but is close with the members and allows them to come hang out. I wrote majority of this while i was on bedrest recovering, so i apologize this is not proofread.

"She's really not at all like the others..." Jake remarks as he sits next to Heeseung, noting that your behavior on camera, was very much genuine as you were no different than how you were off camera.

"Yeah she doesnt seem to be into that whole cutsie thing. Kind of refreshing actually."

"Yeah man, i think so too."

Everyone could relatively agree, to see you be yourself, it was new and fresh, and a delight to see. For Sunoo, it was an abomination.

While you were filming alongside Jungwon, while you were chic and stylish in your own manner, you opted for casual and simple flares of fashion rather than the traditional girly and fancy type. With a loose pair of jeans on, a fitted tee shirt with a matching baseball cap, you displayed your smile and laughter by having a good time being the only girl member in the band.

Watching from aside, Sunoo glares and rolls his eyes. Next to him, Sunghoon pops over and gives him a slight side bump to break the silence after noting the look of irritation on his face. "Whats got you all worked up?"

"Why can't she just be like the rest of the girls in the industry? She's not at all doing well on these weverse lives, people want to see cute girls being....cute...not relaxed and chilled."

"give her a break, she's just being herself man. Can't be mad at that."

"I'm not mad i just.....i just dont get it." Sunoo shakes his head as he turns and walks away with his arms crossed, obviously irritated by your lack of enthusiasm when it came to attempting to be adorable, much like your counterpart, Jungwon. For a young man to be far more agile in being cute in his mannerisms, more than you, that usually was an indicator that you were someone who was far too much of a hopeless cause. Truth of the matter, Sunoo knew what the public liked, he knew that fans liked it when idols did silly and cute things like finger hearts, squinting eyes while displaying a cat like smile, or making high pitched sounds. You didn't do any of that, nor did you attempt it, which caused him to wonder if you were going to be the downfall of Enhypen.

Finishing the live stream, you and the boys all made your way back home to the dorm where you nestled yourself in you room, conveniently next to Jungwon's, who had developed a close bond with, much like a sibling. Since receiving your room assignments, being the only girl, you got your own room, yet it was nice to have Jungwon right next to you, since it was easy for him to come in and out to visit all throughout the night to hang out or watch tv together. Tonight was no different, especially with the new episodes of your guys favorite tv show coming out.

*Knock knock*

"come in." you softly call out, and as expected, you watched as Jungwon brings in a plate of fresh hot hotteok, and tea.

"did you start it?"

"no not yet, was waiting for you."

"Ah."

settling in as he places the plate and two cups on the table, you both prepared to watch the latest episode. As the opening credits rolled, Jungwon took the opportunity to talk about the vlive from earlier.

"Hey so......only because i'm the leader.......but......does it bother you that Sunoo.....well....you know...."

Raising your eyebrows in confusion as you munched on the honey filled treat, you looked up and shrugged your shoulders slightly. "What do you mean?"

"You dont know?"

"Know what?"

Jungwon sighs as he curses himself for opening a door that he wish he hadn't. "nevermind."

"Nooooo...dont be like that....tell me."

"its just....well....he really doesnt like you......and he makes it obvious."

Stunned, your eyes grew wide as you felt your heart drop. "Oh....he does?"

"yeah......do you want me to talk to him about it?"

Shaking your head, you kept your composure as best as you could. "No...its fine.....i'm sure he'll get over it."

Jungwon smiles in return. "yeah, i'm glad you're not too upset about it."

But the fact of the matter was, you were upset....deeply. No one would know of it, since you were very much strategic in keeping it hidden, but you were quite fond of Sunoo....you actually liked him even....so much, that you caught yourself dreaming of him, fantasizing on what it would be like to snuggle up with him, going on dates, or just being in his embrace and smelling his cologne.

You held it all in and the entire night, one episode after another, you felt as if your heart was punching your chest outward.

...........

"Well, i'm gonna go to bed. we got an early morning tomorrow, so dont stay up too late."

"Okay." you feigned a smile as you watched him walk out. The moment you left the room, you hid yourself into the dimmed lighting in your room and began crying. You felt hurt. Did Sunoo really not like you? Why? You both hardly shared any words to one another. Yet it all started to make sense, for all the times you though back when you tried to make conversation, only to watch him side eye you as he would get up and leave the room. There were other moments too, such as whenever you would sit right next to him, and he'd let out an exhausting sigh, and get up to walk across the other side of the room to sit in a different seat. Initially, you didn't think much of it, you had thought he merely was just shy or just was not used to being around female idols. But now......it all makes senses. The man who you really wanted to be with....the one you admired from afar, day dreamed...the one you would do anything for, actually disliked you.....hated you......

Sobbing away into your kneecaps as you held your legs to your chest, you failed to notice that Jungwon had mistakenly left your door cracked open, not shutting it all the way through. With the bit of the dimmed lighting peeking out from the crack, the hallway remained pitch black with just a strip of the orange and yellow hue coming from your room.

Walking up after grabbing a bottle water from the kitchen, Sunoo strolls through the same hallway, all to reach his room at the end of the corridor.

hearing the faint sounds of your sobs, he takes a swig of his water and gulps it down as he sides eye the slivers crack in the door.

“is she….crying? What is her deal?”

sighing out in frustration, he took the chance to enter and see if he could get you to stop, considering your room was across from his. With all that sniffling and whimpering, it would be hard for him to get some sleep with your cries echoing in the hall. Walking into the dimmed room, he gently shuts the door behind him and walks further in. Breaching the opening of your room, he stands straight and leans against the wall while watching your pitiful state. Taking another gulp of water down, he rolls his eyes as he breaks the silence.

“you know if you’re going to cry, you can at least have your door shut all the way through so you don’t wake anyone.”

jolting out of your fetal position, you look up him with your tear stained face. Shocked, your eyes were wide and glossy, pieces of your hair remained plastered on your face and you softly whimpered out a few sniffles before stuttering out an “s-sorry….”

eyeing you down, he takes yet, another gulp from his bottle. Switching his gaze to the floor as he screws the cap back on, he crosses his arms before asking you the big question, merely because he grew curious after seeing your face.

“so…..”

confused, you sat there in silence and looked off to the side before turning back to him. “……um….s..sorry?”

sighing out as he rubbed his temple, he finally speaks out. It was soft yet firm, with a low tone….much lower than what he normally dispelled.

“bitch why are you crying?”

taken aback, your eyes became overflowing with the stinging of tears once more when you heard his harsh tone. Whimpering into your kneecaps again, he rolled his eyes in defeat as he regains composure and attempts this once more.

“okay okay look….just tell me why you’re crying. Can you do that? Hmm? Can you just stop and talk for a second? I’d like to eventually get some beauty rest.”

you shifted over and turned your back towards him.

“just go sunoo…….you’re not going to be the solution to any of my problems right now.”

“Huh…..”

gaining width in his widened glare, you heard his foot steps and thought he was walking in the opposite direction to exit the room. It wasn’t until you felt his weight plopping beside you that you realized he was sitting right next to you. Not only that, but the moment you heard his careless whisper, how his hot breath touched your ear, you knew he was far closer than he had ever been with you.

“Why is that?” He whispered into your ear. you shuttered as you felt an electric shock travel up and down your spine.

“stop! Why are you here? Why do you even care or try? I know you hate me…..just….leave me alone.” You broke down and began to sob as you lashed out the truth.

he didn’t deny it, nor did he try to argue with you on your statement, he did in fact, borderline hated you. Though hearing you say it aloud made him feel a certain type of way about it.

“you’re right….I do hate you.”

“could you please just go……..I….I don’t understand…I’ve never done anything to you….I’ve tried to be nice and I’ve always been helpful…..I’ve……I’ve don’t everything I could to make you see how much I care…” breaking down, you sobbed as you curled your body in.

“I know.” He admitted, nonchalantly at that, as if he knew all this time yet still found it suitable to hate you. But that’s as all about to change….

feeling his hand grasp your shoulder and turning you over, in a rather forceful nature, you gasped out in shock as you witness his frame hovering over you. His feline eyes staring right into your iris and a soft, very faint smile appeared on his pouty lips.

his pupils shift in random direction as he takes in y the sight of your face. Releasing a soft chuckle, he calmly speaks out.

“cute.”

caught off guard, he blinked in shock before uttering an “excuse me?” Bidding him to clarify.

“I said, ‘cute’. Does crying make you deaf too?”

“why are you being this way? I don’t get it…..”

“welcome to my world."

"What is your problem!?" you snapped. you've about had it with his cocky attitude and the lack of sincerity in his tone. Yet the moment he pinned you down as he leaned further in, with his nose pressed against your cheek and his hot breath grazing against your lips, you were shocked still.

"you know, you put on that act to behave like one of the guys. you act cool and casual, and you treat all aspects of being a girl as something that is beneath you. yet look at you now.....crying and looking so adorable......so soft....all your feminine features coming out with each tear drop you cry out."

"ar.....are you toying with me?"

"Maybe.......is that bad?.....is that something that bothers you?"

Shrugging from left to right, you try to break free from his grasp as he began to hold on to your wrists. "huh....you're even cuter when you struggle."

"stop it! get off of me!"

"I will.....if you can get me off." he smirks with that sly smile that he was known for. You gave in as you break down from feeling the immense different in strength. Despite being the carefree and adored idol he was, Sunoo was indeed still, a man.

"Why .....just why....?"

Smirking once more, he leans further in and pauses just before his lips are met with yours. "ddeonu" he whispers.

You raised a brow in annoyance as you whispered back. "is that supposed to be funny? like a joke?"

Once more, he whispers back "ddeonu....you tell me...." smiling and smirking against your lips, you faintly smile back as you feel his grasp loosen and soften up, with his finger tips stroking your skin.

"do. you really hate me?" you asked.

Before he could answer, you softy whispered and cut him off. "let me guess.....ddeonu?"

His eyes widening for a moment, he whispers firmly and tells you, "say it again."

Leaning slightly upward, you softly tell him......"ddeonu....."

His lips lock yours in. His hands eagerly roam up and down your body. Your hands rest on his broad shoulders as you feel his grope slightly shift your body upward from the overwhelming sensation of his soft skin traveling all over your stomach, your breasts, and your ribcage. breaking the kiss to catch his breath, ultimately allowing for you to do the same, he breathes out his gasping words as he rips your buttons apart.

"Whine for me....little girl."

"No Sunoo...."

"Do it."

Kissing you, he shoves his hand down your shorts and flickers his two fingers against your clit. Just as he wanted, you whimper into his mouth as he holds your wrists down with one hand. "Whine some more." he breathes out.

Meshing his lips with yours, he rubs your slit up and down and presses his palm on it as he clams a grip and shoves his tongue deeper into your mouth.

Breaking free for a moment, you turn your head and gasp out. "God!.....I hate you i swear."

"Do you now? Tell me how much you hate the fox." he mumbles against your lips, as. he pulls down your shorts and panties, rolling them down past your kneecaps.

"Sunoo....." you whispered out.

Hovering over, he props his frame on his knees and pulls his shirt off, loosening his sweatpants, he leans back in and props his chest to remain heightened just above your exposed breasts as he uses his arm to stilt himself up. His hair loosely draping down as he eyes you with an intrigued glare.

"you look so cute when you cry...."

"........you're crazy."

"every sly fox is." he smirks as he kisses you once more, this time it was tender, and more gentle. Leaning all the way down, you relished as his body melts into yours, your arms wrap around his neck as you feel him probe your entrance. Gasping for air, you grip on to his shoulders and dig your fingers in as you feel him slide the remaining length inside you.

"Y-you...you're not wearing a condom." you breathed out, wincing your eyes shut as you felt the sting of him inserting all the way through.

"Don't worry.....i know you're a good girl....and you know i'm clean.....considering we're with each other all the time." he heavily breaths out upon feeling the pressure of your entry squeezing him as he bottoms out inside.

It was true, since you always had feelings for the man to your right, you never once paid any mind to all of your fans, the other idols, or staff that showed interest. You remained faithful to a dream that you never thought would have come, yet you stayed hopeful. The dreams alone, were enough to get you by, now that you were in this moment, it all felt surreal.

"Ah! You...you're too big!"

Kissing you tenderly, he begins to thrust slowly and deeply. "Yeah?....It might be because you're super tight." wincing at the last part, he grits his teeth slightly as he pulls out yet kept the tip nestled in before shoving himself all the way back in through.

"Fuck.....you're really tight......" breathing in deeply into your ear, he caresses both sides of your head and twirls his fingers with your hair as he softly kisses your helix, nibbles on your lobe and licks the inside of your ear canal.

"Ugh! ugh! Sunoo!" you gasp out as you release each pleasurably moan and bite your lip. Remaining in the missionary position, Sunoo props himself up as he lifts both your legs and rests them over his shoulders. "S...sstop." you shyly utter out as he positions you to be fully exposed and in his view. "Shhhh......be a good girl." breathes out as he reaches around one of your thighs and circles the pad of his thumb on your clit. With your hips dipping high and low with each thrust, he picks up the pace upon seeing how delectable your breasts looked as they jiggle up and down from his momentum.

"Oh.....shit....move like that some more baby girl...." he gasps as the sweat beads drip down and his hair glistens and becomes slick wet. "Move...baby....move some more...." thrusting in faster and faster, you lose breath as his bumping thrust instilled a raging sense of pelting pleasure that penetrates deep into your chest.

"Oh.......oh my god...fuck.......what.....what are you doing??...." you gasp out as you bite on to your finger as you shift your face off to the side, your body drenched with sweat as you take in thrust after thrust. Feeling him easily sliding in, you felt your body leaking the bit of moisture onto his lengthy shaft as his thrusts and friction caused it to thicken and cream up on the base of your opening, with a reside ringing around his length.

"Shhhh......take it cutie....fuck.......take it all." he gasps out as he thrusts in deeper, leaning back in as his chest rests atop your breasts, locking your lips in once more. Your moans started to pick up volume, so he swoops a hand and gently covers your mouth while planting his lips on your forehead, taking in the feeling of your face jolting up and down as he pelts you with his hip thrusts. "Oh you're so fucking good.....you know that?" he whispers as he kisses your sweaty brow line as you moan out your muffled answer into his palm. "keep taking it.....just......shit....little more......r-...right there...." gasping out a deep breath, he pulls out his shaft and watches as the slime of your body's lubricant and his pre-cum lines a bridge between your entry and his tip. Aiming for your breasts, he holds his shaft steadily in his palm as he releases and paints your chest with his seed. Chuckling as he catches his breath, he kisses your face tenderly as you whimper out, trying your best to calm your heartbeat.

"Can't get you pregnant....not yet.....staff and company wouldn't like that....." with a tender kiss, he softly rolls his tongue around, massaging the inside of your cheeks as he continues.

"but maybe.....a little later......maybe we'll make something as cute as you.....hmm?"

Tired, breathless, weakened and limp, you whispered out "ddeonu...." to which he laughs as he keeps his lips planted on your cheek.

"I do...."