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wandaslovey · 4 months ago

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𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗, 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢

➺ step mommy!wanda x innocent!fem reader

wc ~ 2.8k

a/n: the people have spoken! the poll i posted was incredibly close between mommy!wanda w/ readers first time being with a woman and mommy!wanda corruption kink. i decided to just go ahead and combine the two. enjoy!

a/n: so i actually hate this buuut i figured i would post it anyways. any feedback is welcome, just please be nice :)) (im fragile🥹)

*not proofread*

cw: unspecified age gap, stepcest, mommy!kink, corruption kink, somnophilia, cunnilingus (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), mild humiliation (sorta?)

∴.·:*¨¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

you were cuddled up in wanda’s arms as you lie on your side, facing the television with some old disney movie playing. she had her arm draped around your torso, holding your body back against hers. you had fallen asleep a little while ago, your breathing slow and even.

it was your last week of being home for summer semester before you had to go back to school. you had debated going back home for break, and not even because you had to face your notoriously neglectful father, but because you had to face your step mother—wanda. it had been a few years now that she had married your father. it was a marriage strictly out of convenience and stability. she had her twin boys to raise and wanted a father figure for them to look up to. what she didn’t expect was to inherit you. her beautiful, precious, innocent step-daughter. you were 18 at the time and a senior in high school. she easily took your under her wing and loved you just as much as she did her own children. her love for you started out innocent, but soon morphed into her own perversion. she loved how perfectly innocent you were—even as the years went by. the way your dressed, spoke and acted all seemed to drive her fantasies into an even more perverted corner.

she would often lay awake at night, touching herself to the thought of you. your soft, small hands squeezing and caressing her breasts. your full, pouty lips pressed against hers or better yet.. wrapped around one of her nipples. she knew you were inexperienced and that only drove her more insane. one of her favorite fantasies was having you in her lap, your little skirt bunched up at your waist as she had her wand vibrator pressed up against your cloth-covered pussy. she would try different settings, taking in your little gasps and whimpers as she takes note of just how sensitive you are.

“oh, does that feel good, baby?”

“mm, mommy loves watching you squirm like this in her lap.”

she would watch in real time as your panties become soaking wet, the material almost see through by the time she was done.

now you.. you were completely and utterly enthralled with wanda. she was so beautiful, elegant and seemed to perform every thing she did with grace. even down to the smallest domestic actions, you found yourself squirming in your seat as she went about doing the tasks. growing up, you never had much sexual interest in boys or girls. once your step-mother came into your life, boy, did that change. you found yourself instantly attracted to her femininity, her kindness, but mostly her nurturing disposition. having a narcissistic biological mother meant you lacked one of the most important female relationships in your life.

you craved her attention. since you were attending a local college, that allowed you to travel home often. you didn’t ever go back to see your dad (of course) but to see her. and if you were being honest, you did love billy and tommy as well. they were the greatest little siblings you could have ever hoped for.

each time you went back to visit, your fantasies and thoughts about wanda became progressively more explicit. it started with her holding you, gently stroking your hair as you were cuddled up. however, you knew your feelings were getting stronger when one day you were passing her bedroom and found the door open a crack. she was dressing into her night clothes and you caught a glimpse of her naked back. you couldn’t walk away even if you wanted to. you stood there gawking as she dressed, seeing more of her bare skin than ever before. there was a growing, slightly foreign ache between your legs as you watched her. you pressed your thighs together, mouth slightly agape as you stared at the sight before you.

from then on, anytime you were home you would make it a point to try and sneak a peak of her nakedness whenever you knew she might be showering or changing. in bed at nighttime, your mind ran wild with so many fantasies. you were innocent, but not clueless. you would imagine her perfectly manicured hands sliding down your bare torso, her fingers dipping into the hem of your sleep shorts. then after teasing you a bit, her pulling them off your legs. she would be slow, soft and gentle with her touches. her voice (which you could listen to all day) murmuring sweet praises as she drew small, tight circles around your clit. her kissing and marking your neck. you would proudly wear her love bites.

her gasping with you as she inserts her fingers into your virginal pussy for the first time…

as the movie played on the screen, wanda found herself unable to focus on the scene unfolding before her. instead, she was watching you—your chest rising and falling steadily. she propped herself up, peeking down at your face to make sure your eyes were closed. her libido was burning hot. your body held firmly against hers was enough to get her mind running a mile a minute. you sigh softly in your sleep, wiggling your ass further against her front. wanda smiles to herself, finding the image of you sleeping so soundly in her arms just adorable. but what would be even more adorable? hearing your little whimpers and moans as she touches you. she had never touched you in a non-innocent way before and honestly—she was tired of being good. she wanted her way with you, and tonight she was going to have it.

she began slowly tracing her fingertips up and down your arm, goosebumps rising in their wake. your skin was so soft under her touch. her hand slid to your torso, her fingers slipping under your shirt and running up your waist. she stopped when her fingertips felt the fabric of your bra. she shifted herself carefully so she was propped up on one arm, her body hovering above yours. her free hand now traced slowly up your knee, her fingers on a sinful journey to your soft, milky inner thighs. she gently squeezed the squishiest part, wanting to do that since she saw a glimpse of them whenever you wore your bikini’s at the pool. your legs parted for her and she smiled at your body’s natural instinct to open up for her.

her fingers teased the edges of your panties and she noticed there was already a small wet patch on the material. oh you were a needy girl, weren’t you.

she quickly became desperate to see more of you, but she didn’t want you to wake—yet. she gently pulled your shirt down, the material bunching just past the middle part of your bra. she then leaned down, pressing slow, wet kisses along the tops of your breasts. her tongue snaked out, dipping behind the material and grazing over your nipple. you shifted slightly, a small whine sounding past your lips. wanda paused her movements briefly, glancing up at your face to make sure you were still asleep. once she was satisfied you weren’t going to open your eyes, her fingers resumed their teasing of your inner thighs and panty lines. she dragged her tongue across your chest to your other breast, this time swiping her tongue more firmly over your pert nipple. the hand that was teasing the seam of your panties finally slid past the material, seeking your now inexplicably wet heat. her finger dragged down your slit, gathering the wetness at your entrance and then swirling it up around your clit. you began to stir slightly, your hips gently rolling up into her ministrations.

she kept you on the edge of unconsciousness, being careful not to rouse her little girl prematurely. once she thought you were sufficiently worked up, she maneuvered herself until she was laying between your legs. she gently lifted one of your legs so it bended for her, your unconscious body seeming to assist her as you rest your foot flat on the couch, your leg leaning to the side for better access to your core. she leaned down, her eyes intent on your face as she didn’t want to miss a single reaction. her warm tongue drew a line up your panty-covered slit. your body twitched at the sensation, a small hum in the back of your throat. she repeated the action, gliding her tongue up and down a few times before she needed the offending garment off your body.

her hands caressed up your thighs before grabbing onto your panties and sliding them off of you. she was mindful to take them all the way off, tucking them away in her pocket for later. returning to her previous engagement, she watched your brow furrow slightly, a small gasp leaving your lips as her tongue parted your wet folds. she hummed softly at the flavor of you and fought the urge to delve in right there.

wanting to see those pretty eyes of yours now that her head was between your legs, she licked a firmer stripe up your slit, her hands squeezing your hips. you began to stir again, a feeling of confusion washed over you as you realize there was something hot and wet against your core. you gasped, suddenly awake all at once as you look down and see your step-mother with her head between your legs, her tongue swirling all over your heat. “w-wanda?” you panted out, confused. while you had hoped for something like this to happen, you didn’t think it actually would.

“hmm, hi sweet girl,” she murmured into your pussy, her eyes gleaming with wicked intent as she looked up a you. her tongue expertly explored your folds and you couldn’t help but whimper softly, the sight before you almost overwhelming.

“what’re you doing?” you whimpered. your hips gently rolling into her face at their own accord.

“shhh, baby. let mommy have her fun, hmm? i promise you’ll like it.” you didn’t really need much further encouragement, so you let her proceed without further protest.

“that’s it, huh? were you hoping i would do this to you? were you hoping mommy would finally cave and eat her little girl’s pussy?”

you moaned, her words only making your head more cloudy. she chuckled and you could feel the vibrations reverberate through your core.

you were getting lost in the sensations when she suddenly stopped. “tell me,” she insisted, her eyes were intent on your face as if searching for the truth.

“y-yes mommy..” you whimpered, feeling embarrassed to have to admit this to your step mother. “yes what, baby?” you squirmed under her scrutiny, not wanting to reveal your naughty fantasies out loud. with your hesitation, she decided to tease you further, her finger coming up and circling your entrance. she teased your opening, dipping just the tip of her finger in and out. you whined, her ministrations pleasant but not enough. “please,” you whined. she persisted with her teasing motions, careful not to give you too much stimulation. “tell me the truth milaya moya..i want to hear your say it.” you swallowed back some of your nerves, your fuzzy mind making it harder to want to hide the truth from her. “i’ve wanted you to touch me like this for so long, mommy..” your voice was breathless, your body became more desperate as her fingers continued teasing you.

“have you? what a naughty girl.. and here i was thinking you were a sweet, innocent little thing.” she cooed, her touch becoming more pleasurable as she rewarded your honesty by drawing firm circles around your clit. you moaned, your eyes slid shut wanting to savor every sensation she was pulling from your body.

“ah ah ah, open your eyes. watch mommy.” her voice was gentle yet commanding; you had no choice but to obey. you opened your eyes and find that where her eyes were once green, they were now almost black with desire. “have you ever stuck your fingers inside here before?” her finger gently prodded at your opening, you body wiggling at the sensation.

“o-once..” while the experience wasn’t entirely unpleasant, you didn’t understand why girls would pleasure themselves that way. it just didn’t feel that good to you. “and you didn’t like it?” she gently probed, the hand that wasn’t teasing your entrance caressing the outside of your thigh.

you shook your head, opting to remain silent to answer her question. “that’s perfectly normal, baby. you know what though? i’ll bet mommy can find that special spot inside of you. will you let me try?” truthfully, she was going to try it regardless of what you said. she knew she would be able to find that sweet, spongy spot to curl her fingers against, drawing white hot pleasure from you. you nodded your head slowly, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth nervously.

with how wet you were, wanda was sure two of her fingers could easily slip inside. she watched you as your eyes were locked in on her hand that was between your legs. when she slipped her two fingers inside your hole, you gasped. there was a slight pressure from the stretch but you found it only added to the pleasure you felt. her face contorted with yours and she mimicked your facial expression, wholly invested in your pleasure as if it were her own.

her fingers moved slowly at first, but soon after picked up the pace. you threw your head back, your eyes shutting once again.

“open your eyes, pretty girl. look at me.” you whimpered, reluctantly opening your eyes again to look into hers. she chose that moment then to curl her fingers up against that spongy spot inside you. your mouth formed an “o,” your brows pulling together as you whined, the feeling surprising you. she quickly picked up the pace, her fingers curling and rubbing up against your g spot with fervor. “that’s it baby. you feel that? you feel mommy inside of you?” you moaned and bucked your hips into her hand, feeling her thumb start to circle your clit.

you felt the pressure building in your lower abdomen, your heart starting to pound in your chest as you get closer to your climax. one of your hands clutched onto her wrist of the hand that was pumping in and out of your wet hole.

“mommy! gonna cum!” your body was writhing and shaking under her touch. you finally become unraveled as she leans down and wraps her lips around your clit, suckling the bundle of nerves into her mouth. the moan you let out was downright pornographic as she helps you ride out your high; her fingers slowing and her tongue giving you little kitten licks until you were fully back down to earth.

you chest rose and fell heavily as you tried to catch your breath. wanda crawled up your body, her legs on either side of your hips as she gently rested her upper body atop of yours. she brushed some stray hairs behind your ear, taking note of your adorably flushed cheeks. your eyes were closed as you gathered yourself and when they peeked open to look at hers, they were met with a sea of green. a small smile was tugging on the corners of her lips.

“hi,” you whispered quietly, your eyes slightly hooded as your orgasm only made you feel sleepy again. “hi, baby love,” she smiled at you, her eyes crinkling and her nose scrunching. you give her back a small smile of your own, your brain and body feeling fuzzy and light. “mmm i feel like jello, mommy.” she chuckled gently at your chosen word to describe how you feel. “yeah?” she leaned in and began peppering light kisses all over your face, relishing in your cuteness. you giggled softly, wrapping your arms around her neck to keep her there. she scooted over, maneuvering herself so she was lying next to you with your body pulled close against hers.

you two lie there in silence for several minutes, just enjoying each others company. “wanda?” you questioned, your voice soft and a little hesitant. “hmmm?”

“how long have you wanted to do that to me?”

wanda smiled to herself which you didn’t see with your face tucked under into her neck.

“a long time.” she said simply.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda x you #mommy wanda #corruption kink #somno k!nk

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byeoltoyuki · 7 months ago

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Mine

↳ Pairing: Dad-Minho x reader

❧ Genre: fluff

❧ Words: +1k

❧Summary : Let's say that Minho was not too happy to find out that his little girl got herself a boyfriend.

❧ A/N: I think I might be addicted to dadMinho, sue me.

***

“Stop stomping your foot.” You poked Minho’s arm.

He stopped and slowly turned his face to look at you. No, not to look at you. To scowl at you. It was cute how he thought he could intimidate you even after three years of marriage, six years of relationships and eleven years of friendship. You had seen it all. So no, his little act of intimidation didn’t faze you. Not the slightest. Instead you smiled sweetly at him.

He grumbled. “I’m just excited to see my little girl after a whole week away.”

You were tempted to tease him, to point out to him that he looked more upset than excited, but your face softened at his words. Maybe he looked a little grumpy, but you knew how he felt deep inside. Minho hated leaving for more than a day. Not that you wanted to flatter yourself, but apparently the man couldn’t properly function away from you for too long. Or your little girl. He needed the two of you every day; to hear your voices, your laughs that he adored so much, to be able to touch you.

“She’s excited too.” You said as you grabbed his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

Nari was more than excited. You couldn’t force her to sleep last night no matter how hard you tried. The girl, sadly for the two of you, was just as stubborn as her parents, at only five years old. But you understood her feelings, her longing. She wanted to see her daddy just as much as you did. FaceTiming with him every night wasn’t the same. Reading her a story before bed through the phone was not enough. She missed his presence, his warm hugs.

“I’m happy you’re back.” You leaned closer and pecked his lips. “I missed you.”

Minho relaxed at your words and a smug smile spread across his face. “Did you now?” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flush against him.

“Minho.” You warned him. You didn’t mind his display of affection, you craved his touches. But you were still standing in the middle of the street along with many other parents. Mothers who got a little too noisy for your liking.

Before you could make any other protests, Minho claimed your mouth, shutting you up, pressing you even more against him. Resigned, you bit playfully on his lips, ignoring the loud gasps close to you.

The loud laughs of kids interrupted your sweet moment. Minho dropped you instantly, his eyes already on the dozens of kids running to their parents. Of course he would forget all about you so easily. You chuckled to yourself and watched him from the side.

The happiness in his eyes only intensified as he eyed the kids, trying to spot Nari among them. But it got quickly replaced with a scowl.

“What the fuck.” He muttered and took a step.

You followed his eyes and winced. Yeah, maybe you should have mentioned that your five years old girl got herself a boyfriend. You took Minho’s hand, forcing him to stay still. “Minho.”

“Who the fuck is he?” He growled, “And why is he holding Nari’s hand?” You couldn’t ignore his murderous aura even if you tried. And judging by how quickly people around you took steps back, they felt it too.

“Minho.”

“I’m going to-“

“Lee Minho. Calm the fuck down. They’re five. It’s not that serious.” When Nari had told you about her boyfriend, your first reaction was to laugh so hard you had to hold your stomach. But then Nari had scowled at you, the typical Lee Minho’s scowl, and it made you pause. She had been serious. You thought it was cute but you should have considered Minho’s reaction. The ever overprotective dad.

Minho looked at you, devastated, lost and also still so upset. You should feel bad for him and comfort him but you just couldn’t help but laugh. This situation was getting more and more ridiculous.

“Daddy!!” Nari squealed, so excited, so happy.

Minho instantly forgot all about his mental breakdown and spun around, arms opened wide to welcome her in his arms. And she did. Nari jumped in his arms and giggled loudly and sweetly. The best sound in the world.

“I missed you!!” She gave him a big kiss on the cheek.

“I missed you too.” He scooped her in his arms and spun her around, thriving in the sound of her giggles and huge smile.

Your heart swelled with love and pride at your little family. Minho and Nari were everything you could dream of, hope for in life. They filled your heart with so much fondness and need to protect. The perfect little family.

“Hi mommy!” Nari waved cutely her hand, still resting safely in Minho’s arms.

You kissed her cheek in response. “Had a good day?”

“Yes!! I have to show you my new drawings!”

Minho was probably about to say that her drawings were amazing without even seeing them, just because he loved her so much. But then, his eyes fell on her boyfriend, and his scowl was back. Fortunately for him, Nari was too busy telling you all about her activities. Unfortunately for you, you had to keep smiling (and not laughing at your ridiculous husband) while he was having a glaring contest with a five years old kid. Save me.

“Daddy, can you put me back on the ground?” Nari stopped talking in the middle of her explanation and looked at her dad. “I want to say goodbye to my boyfriend.”

Minho’s body response was to obey. He put her back on the ground and realized too late what he had done. You wrapped your arm around him, to comfort him or maybe to prevent him from doing something incredibly stupid.

“Oh hell no.” Minho growled as he watched Nari kiss the boy’s cheek, smiling so sweetly at him, whispering something in his ear, giggling together.

“Minho. You know I love you,” You reminded him, “But I swear to god if you try to fight a five years old kid, I’m going to kick your ass.”

Minho slowly averted his eyes from a painful scene and looked at you with gritted teeth. “She’s too damn young to kiss a stupid boy who wouldn’t be even able to protect her.”

“Yeah. They’re five. Of course he can’t fight.”

“I can fight.”

You shook your head. “You’re not competing with a kid. Now behave.” You ordered as the boy’s parents along with Nari approached you.

“Nari is such a little angel!” His mom beamed, heart eyes, as she watched the two of them. “Aren’t they cute together? Ah, young love.” She cooed dreamily.

They were cute, but you would rather die than admit it for Minho’s sake.

“How about we meet tomorrow afternoon?” His mom suggested, already excited about her plan. “They can play and we can spend some time together!”

You felt Minho tense under your touch, followed by “Over my dead body.”

“Sorry?” His mom asked.

“Of course!” You stepped in. Not that you wanted to spend time with her, now that Minho was back but you could see how much the idea of playing with her boyfriend made Nari happy. “Do you mind if Minho comes too? He just got back from a trip.”

“Of course!”

Minho waited for them to leave before leaning dangerously close, “You’re gonna pay for his.”

You sent him a flying kiss. If you had to suffer then so did he. “Game on, pretty boy.”

Nari groaned and gaged. “You’re disgusting.”

#stray kids #lee know #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagine #lee know x reader #lee know fluff #stray kids x reader #mine

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minniesfiles · 18 days ago

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BLOOM WITH YOU | prologue

After years of heartbreak and disappointment, you and your husband’s dream of starting a family seemed out of reach. But miracle was a beautiful thing.

❧ PAIRING; wonwoo x reader

❧ GENRE; angst, fluff, light smut

❧ WARNINGS; emotional talk, mention of alcohol, smut [mdni], vomiting

❧ WORDCOUNT; 5.4k

▁▁▁▁▁▁

series masterlist

𐚁₊⊹

▍13 MARCH 2019

Wonwoo juggled the house keys in his hand as his tired eyes scanned the porch light flickering above. As the door swung open, you pushed past him with an exaggerated groan. The first thing you did was immediately slip off your black stilettos and drop them carelessly onto the hardwood floor.

You stumbled over to the sofa and collapsed onto it face-first, releasing a long, dramatic sigh. “Finally,” you muttered into the cushions.

The evening was long — way longer than you had expected. Your older sister and her husband threw a dinner party to celebrate her pregnancy. While it was wonderful to see your family and friends and enjoy the excitement of the news, by the time you got home, you and your boyfriend were utterly drained.

Wonwoo followed you inside, shaking his head with a small chuckle as he closed the door, locked it, and set the keys on the table by the entrance. The tranquility in your home was what you both desperately needed as the noisy evening grew longer.

“Rough night?” he teased, making his way over to you.

You rolled onto your back and glared at him playfully. “Not rough — just long. My feet are killing me. Why did I think wearing these heels was a good idea?”

Wonwoo smirked. “Because they look great on you. Totally worth the pain.”

You groaned again, this time throwing an arm dramatically over your eyes. “Says the man who spent the night in loafers.”

He crouched down in front of you, leaning over until your faces were mere inches apart. “I seem to remember you saying something about how much fun tonight was.”

“It was fun,” you admitted with a small smile. “But you know how my family gets. It’s like a marathon — Miyeon’s stories that continues on forever, dad’s terrible jokes, mum pretending she’s not already planning the baby shower…”

“And your uncle Han cornering me about investment opportunities for a solid thirty minutes,” Wonwoo added, his voice dry but amused.

You laughed. It was a soft, melodic sound that made Wonwoo smile despite his own tiredness. He leaned down further and tilted his head to give you an upside-down kiss on the lips. It was a slow, sweet gesture — unhurried, as if you both had all the time in the world. When you parted, you sighed again, but this time it was a contented sound.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you murmured with your eyes half-closed.

“I try” your boyfriend grinned as he straightened his posture.

He wandered toward the kitchen while leaving you sprawled on the couch. The sound of cabinets opening and closing drifted into the living room as he rummaged for something to snack on.

“You want tea or something?” he called out.

You lifted your head lazily. “Wine. Do we still have that red from last week?”

Wonwoo poked his head around the corner, an eyebrow raised. “You just spent the whole evening saying you’re ‘too old’ for another glass.”

“Yeah, and now I’ve changed my mind,” you said with a mischievous smile.

He disappeared back into the kitchen, and a moment later, you heard the cork pop. You sat up and stretched your legs out across the couch, wincing slightly as you flexed your toes. The stilettos had really been a bad choice, but they matched your dress perfectly, and you weren’t about to let a little discomfort ruin your outfit.

Wonwoo returned with two glasses of wine, handing one to you before sitting down beside you. You clinked glasses softly.

“To surviving the circus,” Wonwoo said, raising his glass.

You laughed. “And to Miyeon and her little bundle of joy.”

You both sipped in silence for a while. You leaned your head on Wonwoo’s shoulder while your glass rested on your knee. “Do you ever think about what it’ll be like when it’s our turn?”

Wonwoo glanced down at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “Our turn for what?”

“You know — for a baby,” you said softly.

Wonwoo took a moment to think, swirling the wine in his glass. “I think it’ll be chaos. But the good kind.”

You smiled, a dreamy look in your eyes. “I hope so. Miyeon looked so happy tonight. It’s weird to think she’s going to be someone’s mum.”

“And you’ll be the cool aunt,” Wonwoo added with a grin.

“Obviously,” you said with a mock-serious tone. “It’s basically my destiny.”

You both laughed. Your exhaustion was temporarily forgotten as you talked about the future. The conversation flowed from baby names to vacations you wanted to take before settling down.

“But seriously,” he said, his tone softening. “Did tonight…you know, make you think about what it would be like? To be parents?”

You took a sip of your wine, considering his question. “It did. I mean, it’s not something I think about every day, but tonight…yeah. Seeing Miyeon and how excited she is, it made me wonder what it would feel like to be in her shoes.”

Wonwoo nodded, his gaze fixed on you. “I think about it sometimes. Not all the details, but just…us. Having a little one. It’s kind of scary, but also kind of exciting, you know?”

You smiled at him, feeling your heart swelling at the thought. You could vaguely picture the two of you adjusting to parenthood together, having quiet moments with your child and laughing through sleepless nights.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “It is.”

You curled up against your boyfriend, and he draped an arm around you, pulling you closer as you sank deeper into the sofa cushions.

“Hey,” he whispered after a while with his deep and gentle voice.

“Hmm?” you murmured and looked up at him.

“I think you’ll be an amazing mum someday,” he said, and kissed the top of your head.

“And you’ll be a pretty great dad” you smiled.

“Pretty great? I was aiming for legendary” Wonwoo chuckled softly.

“Don’t push your luck Jeon” you teased.

As the conversation drifted on, your laughter returned. When your glass emptied, you stood to refill it. Wonwoo hesitated as he glanced at you.

“You sure you want another?” he asked.

“Why not? It’s been a long day” you said, brushing off his concern. You poured yourself another generous glass and returned to the sofa, sinking back into the cushions. Wonwoo watched you closely with his own glass still half-full.

You raised your glass to your lips and downed the wine in a single go. Wonwoo’s eyes widened slightly as he watched the dark red liquid disappear in an instant, and he set his glass down on the coffee table.

“Babe,” he said gently, “maybe slow down a bit.”

With the glass rim still pressed to your lips, you paused for a second. Your face was unreadable as you slowly lowered it. Your boyfriend tilted his head slightly to the side as concern flickered in his gaze.

“You okay?” he asked.

For a long moment, you didn’t respond. Then, to Wonwoo’s surprise, your eyes glistened with unshed tears. You blinked rapidly to get rid of them, but it was too late as a single tear slipped down your cheek, followed by another. You sniffled and brushed them away hastily with the back of your hand.

“Y/n…” Wonwoo placed his glass on the table and moved closer, his voice low and gentle. “Baby what’s wrong?” he asked softly.

You shook your head and pressed your lips tightly together. When you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know,” your words trembled. “It’s just…tonight, seeing Miyeon, hearing everyone talk about babies and families and the future…it made me feel—” you broke off, your breath hitching.

Wonwoo placed a hand on your knee to steady you. “It made you feel what?” he pressed.

You looked at him, your eyes searching his for understanding. “It made me feel like I’m running out of time.”

“Running out of time? What do you mean?” Wonwoo frowned, his brow furrowing.

“I don’t know,” you said again, your voice rising slightly.

“It’s irrational, I know it is. But seeing Miyeon, knowing she’s already there, already starting that chapter of her life…it just made me wonder if I’m falling behind somehow. Like…what if we’re not ready when the time comes? What if we never get there?”

“Y/n” Wonwoo’s voice was firm but kind. He took both of your hands in his, anchoring you. “You’re not falling behind. And we’re not on anyone else’s timeline. We’re going to get there when we’re ready — when you’re ready. There’s no rush.”

You nodded, but the tears kept coming. “I know,” you whispered.

“I know you’re right. But it’s hard not to compare, you know? Especially with everyone watching and waiting for us to be next. We’re not even married yet”

Wonwoo pulled you into his arms and held you tightly as you cried softly against his chest. He stroked your hair in a gentle and reassuring manner.

“Hey,” he murmured. “We’re in this together, okay? Whenever the time comes, we’ll figure it out. And until then, we’re going to enjoy where we are now. There’s no rush to get to the next chapter — we’re writing our story at our own pace.”

You nodded against his chest, and your tears slowed as his words sank in. You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes.

He gave you a tender smile as his large hands cupped your face. “I love you, you know that right?”

“I love you too”

▍16 APRIL 2021

The ceremony began as the soft notes of the piano began playing. The crowd turned their heads in unison, and when Wonwoo looked up, his breath got caught.

There you were, arm in arm with your father. Your eyes were locked with his, and smile so radiant, as you gracefully moved towards the altar. Nothing else existed at that moment. The noise of the crowd, the scent of the fresh flowers, even the sun’s warmth beaming through the glass windows — it all faded somewhere into the background.

Wonwoo’s eyes stung as he fought back tears. You looked so ethereal, like a vision he wasn’t sure he deserved but somehow been blessed with. His hands fidgeted at his sides as he fought the urge to run to you and close the distance between you.

When you finally reached the altar, your father placed your hand in Wonwoo’s with a smile. “You look so beautiful,” Wonwoo whispered. You shyly smiled back and squeezed his hand as you both turned to face the priest.

The priest began as he spoke of the sacred bond between two people, but you and Wonwoo hardly heard him. Your world had narrowed to just the two of you, your hands intertwined and hearts beating in sync.

And finally, it was time for the vows.

There was so much you wanted to say, but you knew you couldn’t say it all out loud.

You turned to Wonwoo with your lips parting as you tried to steady your breathing. You rehearsed this moment in your mind so many times, but nothing could prepare you for the rush of emotion that overtook you as you looked into his eyes.

“Jeon Wonwoo,” your voice trembled as you began.

“You’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember. You’ve been there through every scraped knee, every joy and every heartbreak. You’ve seen me at my worst, and you’ve loved me anyway. When I look at you, I see my past, my present, and my future all at once. You are my safe place, my home, my heart.

Today, I promise to love you for the rest of my life. Just like the way you’ve always loved me — unconditionally, fiercely, and with everything I am. I promise to laugh with you in times of joy and hold you in times of sorrow. You are my forever, Jeon Wonwoo, and I can’t wait to spend every day of my life with you.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you finished, and your voice cracked on the final words. Before the crowd could react, Wonwoo reached his hand out and brushed your tears away with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

“Don’t cry baby, or you’re going to get me started too” he lightly giggled, though his eyes were visibly glossed with unshed tears.

The crowd chucked softly as their attention then shifted to the groom. Wonwoo cleared his throat and held your hands tightly as he began his vows.

“Kim Y/n, I’ve loved you since the day you tied my shoelaces in second grade because I couldn’t figure out the double knot” he began, and the crowd laughed, while you smiled through your tears.

“You’ve been my partner in every sense of the word. You’ve challenged me, inspired me, and made me believe in the best version of myself. You are the kindest, smartest, most beautiful person I know, and somehow, you’ve chosen to spend your life with me.

Today, I promise to always choose you. To hold your hand when life is easy and when it’s hard. To celebrate your victories and comfort you in your losses. I promise to love you more every day and to always remember how lucky I am to be loved by you.”

His voice broke on the last line, and you felt another tear slip down your cheek. “I love you, Y/n,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride” the priest smiled warmly.

Wonwoo barely had time to move before you launched yourself at him. Your arms wrapped around his neck and your lips crashed onto his in a kiss so passionate it sent the crowd into a mix of laughter and cheers.

Wonwoo, taken slightly off guard, stumbled back a little. His hands gripped your waist to steady yourselves from falling. He laughed against your lips, the sound muffled by your kiss, but he didn’t pull away. He kissed you back with equal fervor, as if the world melted away and left only the two of you.

When you finally broke apart, you were breathless and your cheeks were flushed. “I love you too, Mrs Jeon” he grinned as he caressed your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

▍14 FEBRUARY 2022

Tears streamed down your face, and the only thing that was there to support yourself was the headboard which you gripped onto as your husband pounded into you without mercy.

“Don’t stop— fuck! Baby don’t stop” you cried out.

Considering how thin the walls were, you had no doubts that your neighbours were probably cursing at your existence after having to constantly hear the sound of skin slapping and the bed hitting against the wall.

Neither of you could help it though. After all, it was Valentine’s Day. But you loved each other a little too much even on a normal day. It was what you were — a pair of extremely horny freaks who couldn’t keep your hands off yourselves.

Wonwoo’s deep grunts turned into whiny moans as his strokes began to lose their rhythm. He dipped down and buried his sweaty face in the crook of your neck while his arms went under your waist to bring your bodies closer.

Removing your hold from the headboard, your hands made their way around your husband’s torso. While your legs wrapped around his waist, locking him against your naked body.

“I love you” you moaned as your nails dug into his skin.

“I love you too baby— shit I’m close” he let out a deep groan. You could tell with the way his cock twitched inside of you, the way his thrusts slowed and uneven, the way his breaths came sharp and shallow.

“Just a little more, hmm?” he said, lifting his head and connecting his forehead with yours.

There was so much lust, yet nothing overpowered the love Wonwoo held in his eyes as he looked at you being a complete mess underneath him. He brought a hand up to your face and wiped away your tears with his thumb.

“Look at you, such a fucking beautiful mess” he mumbled before leaning in to place a sloppy open mouthed kiss over your quivering lips.

“Woo I can’t—” you cut yourself off with a high pitched moan against his swollen lips as he hit a deep spot.

“I know baby, I’m almost there” he hushed you with another sweaty kiss.

Lifting himself a little and balancing on his elbows above your head, Wonwoo began to pick his speed up. With the last bit of energy he had in him, he slammed himself deeper until you could feel the tip of his cock kiss your cervix. His moans were getting louder, while you were struggling to find your voice as you held onto him for dear life.

“Come with me, okay baby? On the count of three” his looked down at you, and leaned to give you a hasty kiss.

“One” he began to count, closing his eyes as he focused on the height of his orgasm.

“Two” your moans grew louder as he continued to rail you ruthlessly.

“Three” Wonwoo clenched his eyes shut, his moans overpowering yours as he stilled and collapsed over you. The moment you felt his thick, warm load shoot inside you, you gasped out loud as you felt yourself come undone at the same time.

“Fuck!” he cursed through his gritted teeth as kept himself buried inside your warm, clenching hole until every drop of his cum filled you up to the brim.

Your mind was a complete blur, and you felt as if you were on cloud nine. Your eyes fluttered open, and your head spun as you slowly came down from your high.

Wonwoo’s face was buried in your neck as he tried to regulate his breathing, but soon pushed himself up to face you. Your bodies glistened with a crazy amount of sweat, lips red and swollen.

“You okay?” was the first thing he asked as he brushed the strands of hair away from your face. All you could do was nod, suddenly feeling like you lost the ability to speak.

You then felt him slowly pull out, and the trickle of his cum oozing out of your core was almost immediate. But Wonwoo had a way of making sure none of his seeds were gone to waste — not during a time when you two were planning on starting a family.

You felt the pads of his index and middle finger brush against your slit, collecting his dripping cum before pushing it back inside. “No babies gone to waste” he teased, giving you a cocky grin as he cupped your core to prevent any more cum from slipping out.

You couldn’t help but giggle. “You know I still need to pee, right? Or I’ll get an UTI” you told him.

Wonwoo looked at you a little offended, “are you saying that I could potentially have an STD?” he questioned.

You rolled your eyes playfully, and pushed him off you until he fell on the bed next to you, “no, you big dummy, it’s just a safety precaution.”

“But what about our baby?” he pouted like a child.

“Honey I’m literally ovulating right now. The chance of me getting pregnant is very high, so don’t worry” you said, pecking his lips before sitting up.

“Hmm, okay” he responded as he watched you get up from the bed and struggle your way to the bathroom.

╴╴╴╴╴

You leaned back against your husband as the hot water showered over your naked bodies. His arms were wrapped securely around your waist and you rested your head on his chest, letting the warmth soothe your aching muscles.

“You okay, love?” Wonwoo murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Just sore,” you admitted, stretching a little under the water.

“I’m sorry I was a little rough” he said, pressing another kiss on your bare shoulder.

You shook your head, “but that’s the best part of sex, I like it a little rough” you giggled.

“Of course. I forget how freaky you could be” Wonwoo chuckled.

“And yet you spoil me” you smiled against his chest.

“Always,” he replied, grinning.

When the water began to cool, he turned off the shower and wrapped yourselves in soft, fluffy towels. After getting changed into your pyjamas, Wonwoo grabbed a blanket from the bedroom, and soon you were curled up together on the couch. You snuggled against his side with your damp hair tucked behind your ears, and your husband draped the blanket over both of you.

The television played quietly in the background, but neither of you paid much attention. Wonwoo reached for his phone on the coffee table and handed you yours.

“Okay,” he said, scrolling through a delivery app.

“What are we feeling? Pizza? Thai? Sushi?”

You groaned softly and let your head fall against his shoulder. “I’m too tired to even think about food” you sighed.

“That’s not helpful,” Wonwoo teased, chuckling as he kissed your temple.

“Come on, it’s Valentine’s Day. Give me something to work with.”

“I don’t know. Something easy? Something warm?”

“So…literally anything?” he smirked.

You nudged him with your elbow but couldn’t help laughing. “You decide.”

You were too sore and too lazy to cook, even too lazy to decide what you wanted to eat, but this seemed like the only easiest option at the moment.

Wonwoo spent a few moments scrolling through menus while you lazily peeked over his shoulder. “Okay, hear me out,” he said finally, holding his phone up to show you.

“What about Indian food? Butter chicken, garlic naan, maybe some samosas?”

Your eyes lit up, and you sat up a little straighter. “That actually sounds amazing” you replied.

“Perfect,” he said, placing the order with a few taps. “Food should be here in about thirty minutes.”

You sighed happily and snuggled back into his side. “You’re the best.”

“I try” Wonwoo pulled you closer and kissed your forehead.

“But for the record, you’re the best.”

▍3 MAY 2022

Before leaving the guest bedroom, you took one last glance at yourself in the mirror. You smoothed down your navy-blue dress, and despite how bloated you were feeling lately, you were somewhat relieved that it fit quite nicely. The strong smell of roasted lamb that filled through the hallway made your stomach churn. But you swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

Wonwoo’s younger brother, Bohyuk, had just completed and graduated from his master’s degree in law. It was a huge proud moment for the family because not only did he pass at a first class honour, but also got accepted in one of Seoul’s prestigious law firms to do his internship. Tonight was supposed to be special, so you didn’t want to ruin anything for Bohyuk.

“Babe?” Wonwoo’s deep and warm voice called from the living room. He appeared at the doorframe as he adjusted the cufflinks on his sleeves. But his easy smile faltered as he studied your face.

“You okay? You look…tired.”

Not wanting to dampen his mood, you forced a smile. “Just a bit worn out from the week,” you replied as you brushed past him.

“Let’s go. Everyone’s waiting.”

Wonwoo took your hand, and you both made your way into the dining area where his parents, Bohyuk, his girlfriend, and a few other family members were already gathered.

Roasted carrots, baked fish, mashed potatoes, and lamb, the centrepiece, were among the many dishes laid out on the table as you both entered the dining hall.

Nari, Bohyuk’s girlfriend, took the seat across from you and Wonwoo. As everyone celebrated Bohyuk’s accomplishments, the room was filled with laughter and the occasional clinking of glasses. The atmosphere was light and cheerful. But you were far from it no matter how proud you were of Bohyuk.

You tried to keep up with the conversation, often smiling and nodding when appropriate. But your mind wandered. You felt your body struggling to keep pace with the world around you. The headache that started earlier that morning didn’t let up, and the scent of the food, instead of tempting you, only deepened your queasiness.

“Y/n,” Wonwoo’s mother suddenly said, pulling you back into the moment. Her tone was somewhat playful. “I was just saying, it’s high time we get some grandchildren in this family. Don’t you think so?”

Clearly, you were caught off guard. You blinked a couple of times as you looked around the table, before letting out an awkward laugh.

“Oh, I—uh—” you tried to formulate a response but found yourself stammering instead.

“Ma, give her a break. You’ve been on about grandkids for years” your husband interjected smoothly.

“Oh, I’m just teasing,” Wonwoo’s mother replied, raising her glass with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “But don’t keep me waiting too long, you two. I’m not getting any younger!”

If only it was that easy.

The table erupted in laughter while you forced another smile, though your discomfort was growing by the second. Your stomach lurched, and you pressed your hand discreetly against your abdomen. You hoped no one noticed how pale you felt or how tightly you were gripping the edge of the table.

The longer dinner dragged on, the more difficult it got to keep yourself focused. You felt as though the food on your plate was mocking you, and the voices around you were beginning to blur into a dull noise.

You pushed the salmon around with your fork, hoping to distract herself, but each bite you forced down only worsened the nausea. You sipped your water in small, desperate gulps, pushing yourself to stay calm.

“Y/n, are you okay? You look really pale” Nari, who was sitting directly opposite you, suddenly spoke up.

The table went quiet. All eyes turned to you, and you felt a wave of heat rise to your cheeks. Wonwoo turned to look at you, and his expression shifted from concern to alarm.

“Y/n?”

You tried to respond, but your stomach rebelled.

“Baby, are you okay?” Wonwoo asked once more as he set his fork down.

You felt a bitter taste rise in your throat, and soon, panic set in. Clamping your hand over your mouth, you shot up from your chair, nearly toppling it in haste.

Without a word, you ran towards the nearest restroom, ignoring the murmurs and worried voices behind you.

You didn’t stop. You barely made it to the nearest restroom and slammed the door shut behind you just in time. Your knees hit the cold tiled floor as you leaned over the toilet, the nausea finally overpowering you.

The contents of your stomach came rushing up and you heaved until your stomach was empty. You held onto the edge of the toilet, tears pricking your eyes from strain while your body trembled with the effort of emptying everything inside.

When the nausea finally began to subside, you were left feeling hollow and utterly drained. You slumped back against the wall, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath.

You then stood up and made your way to the sink. You turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on your face, hoping the chill would help regain some composure.

Your reflection was staring back at you: pale, sweaty, and visibly shaken. This wasn’t normal, you knew they weren’t. But you dismissed the signs for a week and told yourself it was just stress or maybe something you ate.

But now, the pieces were starting to fit together in a way that made your stomach twist for an entirely different reason.

A soft knock at the door startled her. “Y/n? Baby it’s me,” Wonwoo’s voice called gently. “Can I come in?”

You hesitated, but unlocked the door anyway. Wonwoo stepped inside and closed the door softly behind him. He grabbed your hands and pulled you closer to him as his eyes scanned your face.

“What’s going on? Are you sick?”

You shook your head, the tears spilling over as you pressed your hands to your face. “I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

Wonwoo reached for you and pulled your hands gently away from your face. “Hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into him as the tears came faster. “I just…I feel awful,” you said.

“I’ve been feeling this way for days now. I feel so nauseous, so tired, and my head hurts. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to ruin today, but it feels too much now”

Wonwoo wrapped his arms around you tightly, and his heart twisted at the sight of you crying. “Oh baby, you should’ve told me” he murmured, stroking your hair.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” you told him, your voice muffled against his chest.

Wonwoo pulled back slightly and held your face in his hands. “You’re my wife Y/n. I’ll always worry about you. But I need to know when something’s wrong so I can be there for you.”

You nodded while fresh tears spilled over as you leaned back into him. “I don’t even know why I’m crying,” you admitted with a shaky voice.

“I just feel…I don’t know. Everything feels weird.”

Wonwoo held you close while his hand rubbed soothing circles on your back. He didn’t have answers, but he knew one thing for sure, and that was that you needed to rest, away from the noise and pressure of the dinner.

“Let’s go home,” he said gently. “I’ll let my parents know you’re not feeling well, and we’ll leave. Okay?”

You gave him a nod. You were relieved because it was exactly what you needed right now, to go home.

╴╴╴╴╴

You woke up the next day feeling even worse than you did yesterday. And Wonwoo was worried more than ever so he insisted that you visit the hospital. So here you were.

The doctor, a tall woman, leaned over the machine. She adjusted a few dials and squinted at the screen, her brow furrowing slightly before it softened into a smile.

“Well,” the doctor began and turned the monitor slightly so that you and Wonwoo could see it.

“Congratulations. You’re four weeks pregnant.”

You blinked. For a moment, your brain couldn’t quite catch up to the words. “Pregnant?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor nodded, pointing to the screen where a small, blinking dot was visible. “That little flicker right there? That’s your baby. Just four weeks along, but growing beautifully.”

Wonwoo made a sound, something between a laugh and a gasp, and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Wait…are you serious?”

The doctor turned to him with a patient smile. “Yes, I’m serious. All the nausea, headaches, fatigue and mood swings she’s been experiencing are classic early pregnancy symptoms. Just needed an ultrasound to confirm it.”

Your head swam. Pregnant?

It all began to click into place. The mornings spent hovering over the sink, your stomach twisting in knots. The way your emotions seemed to veer wildly out of control, from laughing to crying in a matter of seconds. The bone-deep exhaustion that no amount of sleep could cure.

“That’s…why,” you murmured as your hand instinctively moved to your abdomen. Your voice trembled both in awe and disbelief. “That’s why I’ve been feeling so off.”

Wonwoo reached for your free hand, his fingers curling tightly around yours. “We’re having a baby?” he asked, his voice laced with cautious wonder, as if saying it out loud might shatter the fragile moment.

The doctor gave you both a few moments to process before speaking again. “It’s still early, of course, but everything looks healthy so far. We’ll schedule some follow-ups to monitor the pregnancy, but for now, I want you to focus on taking care of yourself, Y/n. Eat well, rest as much as you can, and make sure to take your prenatal vitamins.”

Your eyes were fixed on the little flickering light on the screen, but you nodded automatically. That tiny spark was your baby — a part of you, a part of Wonwoo, already alive and growing inside you.

As the doctor wiped the gel from your abdomen and left the room to give you some privacy, you turned to your husband.

“Can you believe this?” you asked, your voice barely steady.

Wonwoo shook his head, a wide, incredulous smile spreading across his face. “No,” he admitted, leaning in close so that your foreheads touched.

“But I’m not sure I’ve ever been this happy about something I didn’t see coming.”

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yerrmar · 2 months ago

Text

❧ GLUE SONG pt5☙

warning: swearing, talks of getting freaky, reader is a figure skater, she/her usage for reader.

summary: you hate the whole of your dads hockey team but especially his favourite player Luke Castellan but why did wearing his jersey feel so right.

evie’s notes: the fact that this is almost over is making me a lil sad☹️

pt4|pt6

yn.ln

♬Tate McRae • Greedy

Liked by thelukecastellan and others

yn.ln i did not have a good time, till luke almost busted his head open

thelukecastellan wow what if i got seriously hurt? and the fact that you posted it too princess really hurts my feelings😔

yn.ln maybe learn how to sit down then dumbass

thelukecastellan you wound me💔

thelukecastellan can’t lie thought you looked real good in my jersey maybe even a little better than me

yn.ln a lot better

thelukecastellan yeah but i cant admit that publicly

yn.ln you just did🤭

seaweedbrain EW EW EW TAKE IT TO THE DMS

thelukecastellan didn’t know you where so good at cheering maybe you should be a cheerleader

yn.ln what like your personal cheerleader?

thelukecastellan obviously what else would i mean😉

yn.ln i’ll think about it😋

wisegirl no i’m with percy on this one please take it to the dms

clarlarue i’m choosing to ignore those other comments because i want to tell you how BEAUTIFUL you look

yn.ln AHH I LOVE YOU CLAR

xo.silena not you acting like you weren’t cheesing through the whole game and making heart eyes a luke

yn.ln urm okay didn’t take you as a liar silena

thelukecastellan heart eyes? awh princess i’m flattered🥰

yn.ln i’m keeping your jersey

thelukecastellan it’s all yours

tags:

@s0urw00lf @lucylovesme @blairfox04

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fanfic #percy jackon and the olympians #imagine #luke castellan fluff #pjo #luke castellan x you #charlie bushnell x reader #charlie bushnell #luke castellan enemies to lovers #luke castellan smau #luke castellan smut #luke castellan hockey smau #pjo smau #percy jackson smau

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cherimoyatea · 2 months ago

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Heyyyy I hope you are doing well!! Could you do rafayel as a girl daddd?? And the daughter is just like him, sassy and all? (Feel free to ignore!)

Hi Annonie!

I'm fine, thank you so much! Hope you're doing good too :)

Thank you for your request! I always imagined Rafayel as a girl dad, and I think their dynamic would be absolutely hilarious and nerve-wracking at the same time! Hope you like what I've come up with for this :)

Had so much fun researching a suitable name for his daughter and ended up sticking with Nerina, which comes from greek mythology and means ''mermaid'' hehe.

❧ Rafayel- Double Trouble

Pairing: Rafayel x You Word Count: 969 Tags: married au, comedy, rafayel and cats, bratty daughter, overstimulated mom, thomas being bullied, tara

''Moooom??'' You hear your daughter call from the other room while you're hiding in the bathroom, sitting on the closed toilet lid to escape the madhouse you call home. You've only been away for five minutes, and just from the tone of Nerina's voice, you can tell she's already quarreling with Rafayel.

With an exasperated sigh, you let your head fall back and silently count down—waiting for the other parent in your household to call for you, too.

''…3…2…1''

''Mcccc!?'' Ah, there it is! You roll your eyes at Rafayel's shrill voice, shaking your head at the Lemurian who sometimes feels like your second child.

''Nerina let that little demon into my studio! AGAIN!!''

The little ''demon'' is Miu, your daughter's pet cat and your husband's worst nightmare. Even though he's still convinced that every cat on earth exists solely to threaten his life, he couldn't deny his daughter's wish to adpot a cat and eventually gave in when she looked at him with those big, sunset-colored eyes she inherited from her father.

But now, the white ragdoll is a daily reminder that your patience is running thin with their quarreling and fights over whether the cat should be allowed to stroll around the studio or not. You sigh and reluctantly leave your hiding spot to face your rivaling family members, preparing yourself for the worst.

As you enter the studio, you see your husband and daughter standing opposite each other, arms crossed and pouting faces. You hold back a giggle at the scene in front of you, while a famous saying about the apple not falling far from the tree crosses your mind.

''Listen, Princess! Daddy loves you more than the ocean loves the beach, b-but I'm gonna snap if I see that 'thing' in my studio again!" Rafayel explains in a shaky voice, standing at a safe distance and pointing at Miu, who shamelessly nuzzles up on the orange couch, purring innocently. Nerina's pouty frown deepens as she hears her father's words. She stomps her foot and shakes her head, making her long locks sway with the movement.

''You're a meanie! Miu didn't even do anything, you just hate her!''

Rafayel's heart breaks a little at your daughter's words, while his face turns to you, his eyes almost pleading for you to step in.

Noticing his silent request for help, you walk closer and crouch down to your daughter hoping to smooth things over between your family members. ''No, honey, that's not true. Daddy loves Miu... he just doesn't like her spreading fur on his artwork, that's all.''

Nerina's expression brightens slightly at your words, the frown disappearing from her little face. Leaning in, she shields her mouth from her father and whispers in your ear, loud enough for Rafayel to hear.

''Mommy? I think Daddy is afraid of Miu...''

She nods, as if trying to convince you of her revelation, and you almost snort in response, quickly clearing your throat to hide your amusement—your sharp-eyed little daughter had clearly picked up on the obvious!

''I... what?! I'm not afraid, I just don't-'' Rafayel's protest is abruptly silenced by a stern look from you, his pout reappearing on his flushed, embarrassed face.

As much as he was proud of his little starfish, Nerina was already challenging him so much at her young age. ''Fine, fine...'' he mumbles, slowly stepping away with a sulk, his eyes locked on the white ragdoll on the couch.

When did his little girl grow up so fast? He sighs.

Later that day, you find yourself sitting in a quiet corner of the mall, having coffee with Tara. It's one of those rare occasions when you both get to enjoy a little chat since you became a mom.

You're completely engrossed in your conversation when a familiar voice suddenly echoes through the mall. You turn your head toward the sound, and your eyes widen as you spot Rafayel and Nerina, followed by Thomas, leisurely strolling through the fancy shops on the other side of the mall.

''Thomas! What's taking you so long?! Daddy promised me ice cream!'' You hear Nerina's sassy voice. She glances back at poor Thomas, who is struggling under the weight of several shopping bags filled with dresses, toys, and plushies. Beads of sweat trickle down his temples as he hurries to keep up.

When Rafayel had called earlier and invited him along on their shopping spree, Thomas clearly hadn't expected to become their pack mule. ''Coming, Miss...'' He replies, his voice heavy with exhaustion, narrowing his eyes at the purple-haired artist, as he once again questions every life choice that led him to become his manager.

''Give him a moment, my little starfish. Thomas isn't the youngest among us, yeah?" Rafayel jokes with an amused grin, patting his daughter's head as he turns to Thomas, raising an eyebrow and mimicking Nerina's sassy tone.

"Thomas! Come ooon, hurry up! My Princess asked for ice cream!"

A bright smile spreads across Tara's cheeks as she observes their interactions, while you shift in your seat, silently hoping your family doesn't notice you yet. ''Awww, like father, like daughter!'' She giggles, shifting her gaze back to you as she grips her coffee cup again. ''They're so cute, you must be proud of them!''

''More like 'outnumbered' you mean!'' You mumble under your breath, taking a sip of your own cup as you watch the trio disappear into the ice cream parlor.

Suddenly, a smile forms on your lips, and a warm, comforting feeling spreads through your chest as you think of your beloved husband and your precious daughter.

Sure, they could be a handful at times, but you wouldn't want it any other way... and you couldn't wait to get home to them later.

But for now, Rafayel was the parent in charge.

Thanks for reading

Cheri 🍒

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landograndprix · 2 years ago

Text

where your heart truly lies ✾ l.n - ix

❧ in which you and lando are not together, right?

❧ Satan is back, wars not over besties ☺

❧ prev part - next part

☆☆☆☆☆

y/nusername posted to their story

☆☆☆☆☆

y/nusername

liked by maxfewtrell, landonorris and 25,761 others

y/nusername end of the season traditions 🥂

tagged: yourbestfrienduser, maxfewtrell, landonorris

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fewtrelllando only here for max vibing on his own 🕺

norrizz4 ugh now I have to live without f1 and mother serving cunt on the grid for a couple of months 😔

y/nlandooo mom & dad 😭

yourbestfrienduser good to see I do look like e goblin when drunk

landonorris you don't have to be drunk to look like this

yourbestfrienduser 😐

maxfewtrell pictures are getting better

y/nusername saving the best for last ;)

messyquadrant I love them your honor

landonorris ❤️❤️

y/nusername ❤️❤️

fabyn 😭 😭

☆☆☆☆☆

y/nusername posted to their story

☆☆☆☆☆

taglist: @honethatty12 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @spideyspeaches @babyvinnie @summerslike11 @waratah-vroom @beatricemiruna @thecubanator2 @lunamelona @leclercdream @pedrileclerc @chelseagirl98 @azxulaa @mxsonxmountx @fleetastic @mycenterfold @oliviamarner @18754389 @scuderiahm @saschaa-ff @oscarissacsslut @fluffyspaceprincess @emily-b @chaosamu @livster @dangeroustacoalienbiscuit @celestialams @gentlemonsterjennie1 @fangirl-madz @v1naco @jayda12 @aundercover @maliamoon0219 @blacpiink @ferrariloverr @pampeop @dance-on-the-moonlight

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#lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #lando norris au #lando norris smaus #lando norris smau #lando norris fanfic #lando x reader

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giddyfatherchris · 5 months ago

Text

Skz texts masterlist 💬

fluff ᡣ𐭩

you’re on a business trip and they miss you // part 2

you went out and got lost trying to get there // part 2

you’re sick // part 2

they’re away on tour (special valentines day edition 💞) // part 2

they support you when you’re having a rough time // part 2

they’re changing their hair colour // part 2

you secretly wrote a song about them // part 2

a member has a crush on you (younger brother skz) // part 2

skz dads send you updates on your child // part 2

you deal with anxiety // part 2

you take matters into your own hands and ask them out // part 2

you get your period // part 2

they find out you have a marriage pact with a friend // part 2

massage // part 2 collab 💌

feeling a little insecure about your body // part 2

spending the holidays together // part 2

crack ☘︎

they found something weird in your room // part 2 // part 3 // part 4

they find out you fainted from another member // part 2

someone is making you feel uncomfortable/unsafe // part 2

you want to start working out // part 2

spicy ❧

barely any:

you accidentally text them about a photoshoot they did // part 2

they think it’s pretty hot when you get mad // part 2

you send them the song ‘touch it’ by ariana grande // part 2

❧:

they’re being little horn dogs // part 2

they notice you aren’t wearing a bra // part 2

bed chem // part 2

❧ ❧:

❧ ❧ ❧:

they find out their/your kinks collab 💌

angsty☁︎

one of you gets scared the other doesn't like them anymore // part 2

how they react/comfort you (when you’re going through a rough patch with a friend)

#ilya's masterlist #ilya's skz texts masterlist

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caramel-maveeato · 1 year ago

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ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀᴋᴇᴜᴘ ♡˚₊。。。

❧❤ SYNOPSIS: something felt very unsettled with you today, and it shattered So Mun just from thinking of the possibilities… ♡ Pairings/Love interest: So Mun x Fem!reader ♡ Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, happy ending ♡ TW: suggestive, mentions of cheating, cursing, detailed kissing descriptions, crying, sexual tension but no you two aint gon do the deed, post-ss2 ♡ Word count: 5.1k

Note: All characters originated from “The Uncanny Counter/Amazing Rumor” except for Y/n. (Sorry mom and dad because instead of paying attention during lectures, I wrote this lil silly fic about a man who doesn’t even exist)

English is not my first language!!! Sorry in advance if I make any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

Apart from all the evils hunting, So Mun couldn’t recall the last time he had been this anxious.

Normally, he never held anything against you hanging out with your guy friends. He knew you also have your personal space and it wasn’t necessarily like your entire world needed to revolve around him.

So Mun trusts you with his own life, he really does. He never once doubted your love for him. But today, something was horribly off.

“Isn’t that Gwan Daehyun from my class?”

Juyeon habitually pushed her glasses up, vocalizing her thoughts to the friend group. Both Woongmin and So Mun raised their heads at the comment, turning toward the large window.

“Gwan Daehyun,” or whoever, was a tall and slender-built young man about his age—he presumed. Judging from his figure and his dashing fashion sense, anyone would instantly conclude he was a big catch. But that wasn’t what caught So Mun’s attention the most.

The man passed by the glass window. Next to him was you, linking arms with him and smiling so cheerfully.

Even though So Mun wouldn’t admit that something has unpleasantly risen up deep inside his heart upon seeing you being so close to another guy, you were always acting so intimate with him in your relationship, so it was understandable that physical affection was rather a normal way of communicating with you.

He heard Woongmin’s voice chimming in next to his ear, snapping him out of the trance: “Is that… I’m seeing Y/n, right? Are they friends?”

“What kind of question is that? If not friends then what are they?” Juyeon cut him off, carefully stealing a glance at So Mun to see if he had any reaction.

“It was just common sense to ask!”

“Uh-huh, common sense.”

“Hey, what’s with that tone–”

“Guys, we’re in the middle of a cafe, enough with your lover’s quarrel.” A faint smile flashed across So Mun’s face as he tapped his pencil down on the table, trying to get his friends’ attention. He didn’t really care how many friends you have, but seeing such joy radiating from you, he couldn’t help but be curious to know about the man’s identity: “Gwan Daehyun is your classmate?”

Juyeon responded nonchalantly: “In chemistry, but we almost never talked. How did Y/n and he even know each other?”

The typical “I don’t know” hasn’t even slipped out of his mouth, Woongmin was quick to toss him another question: “She didn’t tell you about this?”

So Mun wasn’t quite certain “this” referred to you telling him about the guy specifically or about this entire thing, but he chose to say what felt the most natural: “About hanging out with a friend today? She did.”

His two best friends nodded at the same time, exchanging a subtle look at each other which So Mun was completely unaware of. His concentration was taped on you the entire time, following you as your silhouette slowly melted into the distance. He returned to his sketchbook, throwing all running thoughts behind his head for now.

This was when it should’ve stopped bothering him. Or he would say, it didn’t actually bother him in the first place.

Not until he saw what was on your neck.

At first glance, he confidently supposed it was a mosquito bite. But again, he knew what a mosquito bite looked like, and he even knew better what a hickey looked like on your skin.

On the side of your neck laid a small, reddish stain. As much as he tried to deny the truth flattening in front of him and convinced himself that it was a love bite he'd forgotten he left on you, So Mun knew damn well all the places on your body that he had been marking on, and none of them displayed in such a conspicuous spot.

Or maybe you just carelessly bumped into something and bruised yourself, or maybe you got burned while using a hair straightener… Yeah, that was probably the reason. He knew you loved him, adored him, even. So why would you ever do such an awful thing behind his back?

“Hey, Y/n.”

You blinked, catching him staring at you from the opposite side of the table with a soft smile: “Hm?”

“How was your day today, I mean, hanging out with your friend?” He asked to start a conversation, already predicting your reply to be positive since the image of you laughing so happily with another man was still imprinted in his mind.

You smiled in return, acting as casual as possible: “It was pretty nice. We went to get coffee and took pictures and just… you know, the classic friend thing.”

“Yeah….” He nodded, awkwardness flooded his lungs that it was nearly hard to breathe. As much as he wanted to ask you about the bruise, he was afraid of receiving the answer. What if you think he didn’t trust you?

You gulped and looked down, unintentionally exposing your nervousness. In So Mun’s perspective, you were apparently hiding something from him. He aimed at the bruise again, fighting to conceal how his pupils started burning more and more fiercely on your skin the more he studied it. He hated to jump to conclusions so soon and accuse you of committing something you didn’t do. He knew you loved him. He was fucking sure you loved him.

Then why did you have to hide it?

His body ran cold from the way you adjusted your position to excuse yourself, uneasiness enveloped your face when you realized his eyes were fixed on your neck. So Mun watched as his precious placed her elbow down the table with her palm on her cheek, awkwardly building up a cover between his gaze and the love bite that was carved by anyone but him.

Suddenly, So Mun was launched back to today’s morning, into your warm embrace. You clasped him in a goodbye hug before you both parted ways, whispering an “I love you” like you’ve always done in his ear while he tucked himself into your comfort. You did not have that mark on your neck.

And now it happened to be a claret, hickey-like stain engraved on you in such a perfect place for an actual hickey to occur, circumstantially right after he caught you hinging arms with a man he’s never seen or heard you talk about.

Everything crashed. His senses crumpled and his stomach twisted in such a way that he felt physically nauseous.

“What’s that on your neck?”

Words glided out without thinking. There was no point in hesitating anymore, he just needed to listen to your voice confronting him that he had completely misunderstood the situation, that it was only a discoloration you got by accident, that whatever he was assuming was only an illusion coating his mind.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

Your movement stiffened, not too detectable yet, at the same time, not unnoticeable enough to escape his focused stare. Just this small motion of yours was enough to deliver a slap across his face.

The corners of his lips lifted with no strength, not even sure if it looked convincing to you. He had no clue how to react. It wasn’t like he ever imagined you cheating on him, let alone preparing to face it: “Ah… I see.”

On your side, you weren’t any better. The forced and bitter smile on his face seized your guts, pouring immense shame down your head. God, you regret the whole thing already.

“Baby, do you want some water? I’m kinda thirsty.”

You said, clinging onto the very last piece of your cognition and trying to lighten the mood. The effort went pointless unequivocally as there fell a small pause between you two. So Mun slowly shook his head, silent.

“Okay, I… I’ll be back in just a min.”

Getting up to your feet, you wanted nothing more than to sprint to the kitchen and take two glasses of water, no matter if So Mun already refused it. Maybe after a breather and something to soothe your dry throat, the clotted mood would soften and that’s when you could disclose the truth to him.

Waiting no time for you to take another step, a strong grip tied to your wrist as soon as you stood up, condensed around your skin like cement. You quickly saw darkness towering over your vision as an incredible softness sank onto your lips.

You froze like a deer in headlights, tackled by the submerging desire when a pair of hands snuck around your waist and your mouth was captured securely, almost leaving no room for a muffled gasp to be heard. So Mun’s eyes fastened into yours before he shut them closed, engulfing your lips through the hunger enraging inside himself once your arms had mutually snaked around his neck.

So Mun was the personification of “loving” when it came to you. Regardless of how needy he was during your make-out sessions, he always put you as his priority and ensured not to overwhelm you with his rising passion. But at this specific moment, you were dazed by his sudden blast of enthusiasm, though your bewilderment was quick to dissolve into pure fever when he drew his tongue along your bottom lip just as skillful as the artist he was, fondling your flesh between his teeth before alighting his mouth onto yours again.

Your fingers automatically crimped around his hair, gently tugging his curls in a way you knew he could never get enough of. Your little gesture welcomed a quiet groan from your boyfriend, spawning a tightened grasp on your hips. You didn’t recognize how steamy the kiss had progressed until your back collided with the wall.

The room drowned in your intimate noises. His hand’s location switched from your hip to your chin as he nailed you to the hard surface, angling his digits along your jawline. He feasted on your unorganized breathing, eagerly knocking your lips apart with his own like you were a sumptuous banquet. His sweetness erupted through every smallest gap inside your mouth. Your knees turned wobbly while you gripped onto him to keep your balance, panting and whining for mercy since you were practically devoured for what felt like eternity.

You didn’t mind if So Mun might have misinterpreted your “thirsty” for something else but its literal meaning. He was feeding you full. However, the boiling-hot tension was impotent to replace the previous alarm between you two, now adding to the baffling foreboding you secretly felt.

Colors flowered chaotically through your closed eyelids. No way you could push him away despite your remained oxygen was already sucked dry. As much as you cherished how intoxicating making out with So Mun was, you were beyond relieved when he finally pulled back and showed your strained mouth some pity.

Your heart bolted madly inside your chest, both exhilarated and puzzled due to the unforeseen shift of sensation. Both of you chased after your jumbled breaths. So Mun supported your balance with his fingers dug into your waist and let you lean against the wall, still silent.

A coat of haze smeared over your eyesight after the kiss, you weren’t able to see his face clearly from this angle. But just shortly after, you heard him speak again, barely louder than a mumble: “Love…”

The familiar term of endearment dripped into your ear, carrying a hint of unusual raspiness. So Mun’s voice was as longing as a prayer pleading for his most revered goddess, yet suffocated in boundless desperation and anguish that made your head numb just from hearing it.

“Did I… I definitely did something wrong, didn’t I?”

Time stopped.

Something inside your gut ripped apart, tearing down every single bit that made of you as the eeriness and repentance needled through your bones.

You saw clouds in his reddened eyes. All So Mun needed to do was blink once and the tears would flood down his cheeks uncontrollably.

Your roaring heartbeat echoed in your head at the sight of his dark coffee irises, now a hollow void of fog and aggrivement. Your voice splintered in your throat as So Mun grabbed your hands and swaddled them in his own, his slightly calloused hands trembling against your skin: “What did I do wrong? Please tell me, love… Tell me everything you dislike about me, I promise I will change.”

Knowing how good-at-heart you were as a person, there wouldn’t be a chance of you going around and dating different men. That being said, maybe he was the reason you let go of him.

And there it was. The look on his face looked exactly like that one of betrayal when he discovered the murder of his parents two years ago. The only difference was that he didn’t seem to be upset at you, he was upset at himself for failing you, for even allowing a thought of leaving to cross your mind.

This was a look you would rather let twenty knives riddle through your organs than ever see in your life. And now you were the one who caused it.

You didn’t dare to move. Your veins twinged and screamed and begged for his forgiveness but no sound was brave enough to emerge at the moment. You watched as he pressed his face onto your shoulder, dampening that specific part of your shirt despite his effort to bite back from breaking down.

You stuttered, not yet realizing yourself was on the verge of tears as well: “No, baby, it’s—”

So Mun scanned the purplish hue obscuring itself under your hair and the dim light in the room, resentment swelling behind his chest as he choked back a muffled cry: “Am I not good enough? Is it my personality or the way I look? Did I mess up so badly that… you went for someone else?”

“No! No, it’s not like that. You did nothing wrong!” You hurriedly brushed your fingers over his cheekbones, guiding his face to yours as your vision shielded with unshed mist. His hot tears blurred his own skin, somehow felt dreadfully cold and painful when it hit your touch.

He hesitated, confused and unconvinced: “If not me, then— Why did you…?”

“It was me, love! I was so stupid. I should’ve known…” You hated yourself for coming up with the plan in the first place. Why didn’t you consider the consequences before starting it? That it could hurt him this terribly thinking you broke his faith?

In front of his stunned eyes, the tip of your fingers aggressively rubbed against that so-called “hickey,” each stroke smudging blush powder and eyeshadow all over your digits.

One week ago, 1 p.m., at the crime scene in Eonni’s noodle shop.

“What do you mean you dunno? He never got jealous before?!”

You quietly hissed at Juyeon, whose voice was almost too loud it scared a customer at the next table: “What’s so surprising about it? Does he look like the type to get jealous easily?”

You and the girl were chatting about whatever you could think of to kill time while waiting for So Mun to finish his last minutes of individual training. As luck would have it, you stumbled across the topic of relationships, and it eventually centered on your one and only beloved.

Woongmin looked up from Junhui’s colorful drawings, looking you dead in the eye: “Not gonna lie, he kind of does.”

“Don’t eavesdrop on us, turn away!” The short-haired girl gestured her hand at her boyfriend, making him roll his eyes with sass and unwillingly obey her command. She turned back to you, lowering her voice this time: “It’s not about looks, but I refuse to believe he doesn’t get jealous at all.”

You tilted your head, thoughtlessly stealing a sip of her latte: “Um-hm…”

“Seriously, you were never curious about it?”

You shrugged. You got where Juyeon was coming from. Woongmin’s possessiveness thrived pretty easily to begin with (evidently canon from how sulky he became when she complimented a sketch of your enemy Hwang Pilkwang), and it was always so entertaining to see.

You might’ve or might’ve not wondered what kind of expression your man would show when he got jealous, but well, the idea itself was somehow very fascinating.

The only time you’ve witnessed him show the slightest hint of protectiveness besides the counter-thing was when a customer asked for your phone number—where he would observe your reaction with a sharp glare at the said person, then smirk proudly when you turned the offer down. Still, as two grim reapers, you stuck to each other like glue almost 24/7—ranging from missions and serving to something as simple as eating and walking, not to mention the countless times you have woken up beside each other. Putting it plainly into words, you had no “private life” for jealousy to evolve.

Hearing your explanation (in which you already altered the “grim reaper” part), Juyeon flashed you a hilariously serious look, for some reason very invested in solving your problem: “That makes sense. So do you want me to help you?”

You sighed: “I… think?”

“No worries girl, I got you.” She thoughtfully gave you a wink, opening TikTok on her phone as she scrolled down numerous videos, stopping at one to show you: “I was thinking... this. What do you think about a hickey prank?”

An old-fashioned trick to mess with your significant other, yet always seemed to be effective. You stared at the scene unfolding between two lovers, battling in your mind whether or not you should give it a try: “You have a point, but I doubt he’d believe it. We see each other every day.”

“Well, all you need to do is pretend to hang out with some guy and come back with a fake hickey.”

“Damn, that’s genius.” Woongmin’s voice joined you two from afar, one more time getting Juyeon to threaten him with her razor-sharp look.

“Where am I supposed to find a guy, anyway? My few guy friends either rot away in their schools or aren’t even in the country.” You chuckled at their couple-ly bicker. Speaking of the truth, you found yourself a bit thrilled at the suggestion. You would love to see how adorably pouty So Mun became when he turned possessive.

Juyeon fancily sipped her coffee: “I know someone who can help. Two days ago, a uni friend of mine coincidentally complained about how badly he wanted to get a reaction out of his black-cat partner who never gets jealous. I guess you both can do each other a favor.”

The plan developed so smoothly. You absolutely could not expect to regret your whole existence just because you surrendered to the heat of the moment: “For real?”

Earning a firm nod from Juyeon, who then gave you her friend’s phone number to further discuss the prank, you mindlessly let yourself loose into the urge. You’ve read somewhere that jealousy can prompt both parties of a romantic relationship to stay connected, which is a good thing. It’s just a small, harmless prank, right? Nothing could go wrong, right?

“We should’ve talked about this during girls’ night, maybe you could pull this prank on Woongmin, too.”

“I can hear you, y’know.”

Pure silence detonated when your explanation died down.

A sour feeling crawled up your body in monstrous shamefulness. You warily waited for his reaction upon finding out he just got caught up in a hurtful prank.

“So… the whole thing was… a joke?” A rather wounding joke, to be exact. You held your breath and raised your stained fingers up, carefully analyzing his tone while choosing your own response: “Yeah, this hickey is makeup, as you can see.”

“Right…” Based on how long a pause lingered in each sentence, you could tell he was having a hard time gathering his thoughts together. ‘Lost as hell’ would be an understatement: “...and Gwan Daehyun is just Juyeon’s classmate, he doesn’t have anything to do with you?”

“No, he doesn’t. We have nothing to do with each other.” You answered: “We only met up for the first time today through… uh, yeah.”

He exhaled agitatedly, muttering in disbelief: “And Juyeon told me she had never talked to him before. That sneaky…”

It was nearly ridiculous to think about where the situation was at the moment. If minutes ago you both were strangled by the thickened bitterness of your own reasons, now the entire ambience has reshaped into an awkward one. Confronted by quietness, you gulped, instinctively feeling like you didn’t really have the right to say these words anymore: “Plus… I would never cheat on you.”

Speechlessness floated like ashes in between you and him.

In reality, the stiffened air only lasted a few seconds, you were nonetheless certain it felt like hours. So Mun blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the left-over dried tears steamed up over his view. He eventually let out a sigh, mumbling under his breath: “Y/n, you’re… impossible.”

You lowered your head, unable to make eye contact with him: “...I’m sorry.”

“”Sorry” won’t do it.” A scoff vaguely arrived from his direction, embedding in a hint of disappointment and irritation as he wiped the dewed corner of his eye one last time: “I really was convinced you’re bored of me already.”

You clenched your mouth shut, guilt swallowed your voice.

“You know what else you have to do so I’ll forgive you?”

Although the seriousness hasn’t faltered, you wondered whether or not you were delusional out of the blue because you swore he didn’t sound that serious anymore. Your gaze shot up at him, then looked down again and shook your head when you noticed his expression hadn't lightened up.

“You don’t? I think you do.” His warm hand swept across the side of your face, lifting your chin up. You were greeted by a light raise of So Mun’s eyebrows while he airily tapped on his lips with a casual, yet cunning twinkle in his pupils.

Dumbfounded, you delayed for a second to make sure you weren’t fooled by some kind of hallucination, cautiously examining the implication he just dropped as well as his blooming smile: “You… You’re not mad at me?”

“Oh trust me, I am still very pissed off. But you know I can’t full-on stay mad at you.” So Mun shrugged, booping your nose: “Not when you’re this pouty.”

The burn behind his eyes had stopped being torturous a moment ago, yet you still felt like a criminal knowing you had created such an unpleasant tint on his scleras. You murmured: “The pouty one was primarily predicted to be you.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

As if your internal self-reproach were audible, he swooped you into his chest, holding you while half-heartedly scolding you: “Just don’t pull these types of pranks on me again. Okay? One more time and I swear, I’m sleeping with Jeokbong-hyung forever.”

“Yes, I’m really sorry. I didn’t expect it to go this far.” Your arms enclosed him instantly as though they were customized to do so. You nodded against his shoulder, trying to contain a smile when his melodious chuckle filled your ear: “But the sleeping part is up to you. Bunk beds seem pretty cozy.”

So Mun rolled his eyes playfully, squeezing your cheek between his index finger and thumb: “Is that how you apologize for making your boyfriend cry?”

You cracked up, words unclear by the stretch on your face: “Oh, I’m sorry!”

Laughter echoed through the closed room, which you both preferred this way so much better than the previous heavy and wrenching atmosphere. So Mun nuzzled his nose against yours, whispering flirtatiously: “So what now? Gotta let me forgive you or you’re good?”

“No I’m not good, so please forgive me.” Heat bursting underneath your skin, tinging a shade of rosiness. You grinned and whispered before tugging blithely on the neckline of his T-shirt. His lips instantly fit onto yours just as perfectly as a puzzle piece.

A butterfly-like peck expectedly flourished into a hot mess. So Mun’s curls spilled between your fingers, trusting him to perform his magic on you. His scent ghosted your face, sending friction straight up to your mind while your mouth was accompanied by his bewitching wetness, claiming your mouth with impatience to make up for every drop of tears that had rolled off earlier.

Your body felt weightless when he lifted you off your feet, turning you away from the wall and pushing you to a surface that was much more doughy. Goosebumps enhanced down your body when the soft mattress of your own bed scratched against your back, manipulating a gasp to flee from your throat although the touch was hardly through a layer of fabric, evincing how awfully vulnerable you were in this position.

Responding to your tiny whimper, So Mun’s chuckle vibrated against your lips. He situated himself between your legs, pinning you flat on the bed and greedily nipping on your bottom lip to get the most reaction out of you. Your delicate flesh laid defenselessly against every stroke and skim of his tongue. It was no argument that he took pride in seeing you so worked up for his affection, and he wasn’t planning to stop until your pantings had stirred into one.

Your boyfriend only detached his face from yours after a while, beaming happily like it was Christmas morning at the sight of your lips glossy with his essence.

So Mun was one hell of a good kisser in contrast to his innocent face. He knew exactly when to be sugary and when to be spicy. After melting your brain to mud with his hypnotizing techniques, he placed a tender kiss on your cheek, lingering his pinkened lips over the warmth of your skin. He sweetly moved down to your jaw, then your chin as you dreamily threw your head back against the bed sheets.

His gaze fell onto the feeble “love mark” that had virtually faded away by your vigorous smudging, grinning to himself: “You know, if you wanted to show off a hickey right here, you could’ve just asked me to leave a real one on you.”

You giggled with a slightly hoarse voice, cheeks flushing brighter when he stroked his thumb over the spot, encircling the last remaining makeup stain in a gentle yet teasing manner: “I do love to have one there. But imagine all the teasing we're gonna get when the team finds out…”

“Understandable.” His stare at the fake hickey was no longer flaming with hatred, instead full of hilarity. Leaning downward, So Mun’s curly hair tickled the place under your chin and the heat of his breath fanned your skin. But you were too distracted by another sensation—a delicious softness printing on your neck—to notice it: “I just… still can’t believe it. You want to see me get jealous that bad?”

Your source of air was cut halfway and you closed your eyes in delight. (We all know) You do. Maybe you were too much of a coward to confess but the man in front of you always looked so fucking hot when he was mad: “I mean… I’m just curious?”

“Good to know. The next time I see someone flirt with you, I’m gonna beat them up.” Mellow kisses gathered around the makeup stain. So Mun closely examined the way your body trembled underneath him while open-mouthed kisses were planted along the line of your neck, testing the waters and looking for your approval.

This earned a small giggle from you. You brought a hand up to the back of his head, your digits massaging his scalp as you indirectly turned the green light on at whatever he had in store for you: “Yung is gonna beat you up, my dear.”

“Oh, Yung can’t do anything to me. I’m the pillar and the Ace, remember?”

You smiled, about to say something before your thoughts were heavily interrupted by a raid of affection on your flesh, right where the fake hickey originally occupied. But this time, it was no longer “fake.” You thanked your lucky star for suppressing your voice on time because only God knows what kind of unholy sound you’d make at the sudden pleasure.

Exhaling a deep sigh, you were barely able to hide the shakiness in your voice as So Mun dragged his lips over your neck, painting your skin with a lovely shade of red through his teeth: “More like you and your cocky ass…”

He laughed: “Yeah, me and my cocky ass, any complaints, baby?”

His hands gently pressed your shoulders, positioning you firmly against the mattress. Every suck and nibble was followed by a trail of kisses admiring your skin. You could almost feel his marks starting to blossom each time he separated his mouth from your flushed flesh, watching it bounce back with a glowing shine.

You gulped unconsciously on behalf of him pulling the collar of your shirt aside, revealing more of your hidden collarbones for what was about to come next: “...No complaints.”

Screw it. Maybe you should just let the team tease you however they want later.

The edges of his lips raised in a satisfied smile, one that never failed to hook you in a love spell. So Mun is magnetic. That’s just the way he naturally is.

Sweeping a hand under your nape, he allowed your head to fall back in a perfect curve and your neck went unsheltered. His enchanting voice bathed in anticipation as he whispered in your ear:

“Perfect. Now relax and I’ll do all the work for you.”

His devotion exploded like fireworks in the sky, each glimmer landing on the ground meant another kiss perched down on your skin. Your evening ended in So Mun’s embrace, loving you and cuddling you until the night had gone by.

You resulted in a cycle of wearing turtleneck tops constantly for three weeks straight, whether or not it was chilling outside or you were one step away from passing out in your own pool of sweat during training. To the point the other counters were highkey concerned, like, damn, what if you actually unalive due to overheating? (you won’t.)

This is all because every time your amazing boyfriend noticed his garden of cherries on your skin had slightly faded away, he’d sneak you into whatever secluded spot he could find and plant a fresh, brand new one on you, right onto the same spots.

But since it was THE So Mun initiating the act so who’s gonna complain? Not you, obviously.

Thank you sm for bearing with me til the end i know this fic is long (and OOC) (ﾉ´∀｀*) Hope you enjoyed it!!

#so mun #so mun x reader #the uncanny counter x reader #the uncanny counter #unncanny counter #lim juyeon #kim woongmin #kdrama #kdrama x reader #pookie please come home 🏠

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theteasetwrites · 10 months ago

Text

Merciless Beauty

Chapter 11: You Are My Queen

❧ Pairing: Knight Daryl Dixon x Princess Reader ❧ Era: Medieval fantasy AU ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT (18+ MDNI)—missionary, unprotected PiV (do not endorse, wrap it up), "fucked dumb" (more like "fucked tired") if you squint, food stuff (... idk it gets messy. Honey is involved.) ❧ Word Count: 10.2k

❧ Before You Read...

❧ Glossary

❧ In This Chapter: After the defeat of Negan and his Saviors, you are confronted with the pain of what you've experienced, and you must confide in Daryl. Of course, the bittersweet moment becomes a reunion fit for lovers.

❧ A/N: Um so hi! You guys didn't think I was never gonna finish this did you? I mean I wouldn't blame you if you did, but I did it! I mean, I tried. I had a few different ideas for how to end the series, and then I realized that this isn't quite the end. I am going to write an "Epilogue" chapter that will just be wrapping up everything with Ezekiel and basically the princess telling her dad about Daryl. But for now, this is the end! Now I gotta focus on Begin Again now that I finally have this done(ish). Hope you guys like it, and thank you for waiting <3

Far from the carnage and warfare, miles away in a secluded wood, the hearth burned brightly, illuminating the small cottage in a warm glow that seemed so distinct from the deep, dark night that surrounded outside.

The scarlet wound on his thigh bubbling with vinegar and wine, you held a wooden spoonful of warmed honey, letting it drip slowly over the clean injury. After the bath you’d given him, he wore nothing, save for the loose drawstring braies of linen that reached just above his knee.

Your delicate fingers spread the translucent liquid gold over the surrounding skin. Out of the corner of your eye, you kept note of his visage. Though his face was relaxed, and softened by the warm glow of the fire, he was stoic. No matter how you treated his wound, he did not flinch, or so much as show any signs of discomfort or pain.

As you wrapped his leg with a clean gauze, you spoke to him, cutting through the silence that had settled between you for the last several minutes.

“Does it not hurt?” you asked softly, barely above a whisper.

“No,” he replied simply, though that was not entirely true. The blade had been the worst hurt of it, but now, it was only a dull sting. Perhaps so much pain in his life had heightened his tolerance, or dulled his sense.

In fact, the sensation was pleasant. All he could really feel was the soft pads of your fingers gently spreading the liquid over his skin, the honey acting as a soothing agent after the cleansing properties of the wine and vinegar had settled into the open wound.

Wrapping the last bit of gauze around his thigh, you gently folded the linen of his braises back over, a soft puff of air escaping your lips all the while.

“You are brave,” you said, your eyes lifting with a gentle flutter of your lashes.

With a shift of your legs from underneath you, you carefully replaced the spoon of honey into its jar, setting it aside upon the floor next to you. It felt good to no longer be upon your feet, now bandaged and clean after Daryl had so adamantly insisted that you let him do so. Now, though, you’d tend to him, after everything he’d done for you that night.

But with the fortitude of a true knight, he did not show pain nor pride. He did not bask in any glory or relish in his victory. He did not shed a tear, his limp as he walked not slowing him down or keeping him from getting you to the safety of the cottage. Not only was he brave, but he was humble. The man you’d once called a sorry excuse for a knight had turned out to be a paragon of gallantry, though he never had to prove that to you. You’d known the error of your words since he returned to you that night so many moons ago, promising to take you beyond the walls without payment or worldly reward.

That seemed worlds away now. The way you’d looked at him then was a far cry from now, when before you was the embodiment of the greatest warmth and sweetness you’d ever felt. The swell in your chest had cut your breath short for a moment, while the knight shifted on the floor cushion upon which he sat, leaning forward to pull you closer by your hands, until you were cradled in his arms, your body curled up upon his lap and your head resting against his bare chest.

That was when your breath came back, the soothing motions of his hands caressing your sides reminding you of the safety he gave you now. Negan was no more, the Saviors were no more, and soon, your father and the surviving militia would meet you here, but now, there was nothing in this world except him, and you.

When time just began to crumble away, your eyes heavy with the promise of sleep, you were brought back to the surface of consciousness by his voice, steady and low.

“You are brave.”

A puff of amused air escaped your lips, though you did not contradict him, only listened as he spoke, that voice of his more soothing than the honey on his wound.

“You killed Negan.”

Though you could not regret your actions, you shivered at the thought of that moment, the knife driving into his back, the feeling of the blade tunneling through tissue and finally puncturing his frozen heart. It made you cling tighter to his chest, as if to cower from the memory that haunted you in the back of your mind.

“If you hadn’t, I would not be here now, holding you.”

Indeed, that was what he was made for―holding you, serving you. Just as you clung tighter to him, he held you with more strength, not out of fear that you’d be taken from him again, but out of sheer devotion.

“And I owe you my life.”

“No,” you replied, almost startling him as you lifted your head. As if by instinct, he held your chin softly, the calloused pad of his thumb stroking its soft skin in short, but slow, back and forth motions. “There is nothing that you owe to me. Certainly not your life.”

Though you remained stern in your expression of earnestness, his lips curled into a gentle smile.

“I owe you everything. My life’s devoted to serving you, you know that.”

But as you looked at him, his eyes so full of love and hope for the future he had with you, there was still a hesitation inside you. It was like a parasite, worming its way inside your heart to keep you from fully embracing the comfort he brought you. It had not held such an effect on you, until now. Now that you could comprehend it, the hideous guilt that troubled you so.

He could see it in your eyes now, too, as evidenced by his smile fading and his eyes, still filled with that same love, growing dim with concern.

“What is it?”

To keep it from him would only cause more abject pain, but to hurt him, to tell him of the betrayal that you believed you had committed against him. How could you go on, now that the thought of that man’s cold, slimy hands all over you would not let you rest in the arms of the man who truly loved you?

And if you told him, would he rebuff you, disavow his love for you and never even hold you again?

“Nothing,” you said, but the quiver in your slowly faltering voice betrayed you, and the feeling of a cold, dead hand strangled around your heart made you shiver. He brought you closer to his chest, where warmth briefly tore you from the icy snare of guilt and shame. It was only a temporary respite, though. The only way to rid yourself of this regret was to tell him.

Another man’s mouth had been on yours, the salty, bitter taste of which you swore still lingered and made a mockery of your once pure lips. You’d truly never felt that Daryl had ever taken any purity from you. In fact, he made you more pure, but the bitterness of Negan’s filthy tongue had sullied you, you believed, and now you were nothing more than a broken woman, despite how whole you felt when he held you in his arms.

“Tell me,” he said, with that eerie whisper of knowing on his breath. Even the soothing circular movements of his splayed out hand on the small of your back were made with careful concern. Indeed, he knew that whatever troubled you must have been to do with what had transpired within the last week.

Afterall, the blot of watercolor black and blue around your eye gave him an inkling, one which made anger well up in him like molten lava bubbling to the surface, igniting him with a kind of rage that was strong enough to bring that scum of a man back to life just to slice his head clean off a second time. And, oh, would he do it again if he had the chance, just to know, again and again and again, that the man who tormented his princess could never bring more harm to her, or anyone else.

“Daryl, I…”

Your words having fizzled out into thin air, you shook your head and loosened yourself from his arms, as though you were unworthy of their embrace. The more you thought of that night, the more you believed that to be true.

“What happened?” he asked, his body beginning to stiffen as he mirrored you—both of you frozen in fear of whatever you would say, if you would say anything at all.

For a moment, he felt both weightless and heavy, in some kind of strange limbo wherein worry overtook his physicality before any words could confirm the worst of his fears. It washed the color from his face, where once a warm pink had blossomed from the feeling of the nearby hearth and your body so close to his, once again, after everything that had happened.

Now, he could only begin to think of the heinous things that could’ve been done to you… Knowing how Negan had looked at you, how he touched you that night of the joust. There was something sinister in his eyes then, and now, there was a similar dread in your expression as you looked away from him, eyelids heavy and head downturned.

With a gentle hand on your shoulder, his instinct to hold you too strong to completely ignore without at least a single touch, he began to speak again—voice quiet yet raspy.

“Did he… did he touch you?”

Of course, he had, but what Daryl meant by his words seemed deeper than their surface level definition. The vitriol in his voice, the sting of the word touch, which once might have been so much more beautiful on his lips, was palpable, lacerating your heart further. If it wasn’t for the pain of the guilt, you would still feel the hurt of the sadness in his voice.

You raised your eyes to meet his, though his face was blurred in the haze of your tears. A kind of shocked concern shaped his expression as he held your cheek with so much delicateness, as though you were but an assemblage of rose petals sewn together with gossamer twine.

He spoke your name now, low and almost a whisper. There was something so earnest about that, the way he called you only by your name and nothing else. No title, no epithet. Just you, just a woman, but not just a woman at all—a woman for whom he’d give the skin off his back to keep warm.

With his fingers laced delicately through your hair, he begged you with his eyes, glassy and clear, almost translucent to the point you swore you could see his soul bared before you. Even just in his stare, he made himself vulnerable to you, and soon, whatever fear you had of him turning on you melted under that comforting, warm gaze. Just for a moment, you gave in, and used your tongue to forcibly tear out the words that were stuck in your throat.

But still, you could not look at him as you spoke.

“Yes, he…” Your voice trailed off, followed by a deep breath of air you’d hoped would give you the strength to continue, but it only brought forth the tears that threatened to give way.

Two big arms encircled you hesitantly, slowly enough to allow you to break free had you not craved his touch, but his touch was all that could give you peace now. No further questions were needed, he surmised. He wasn’t sure he could even bear to know more of what was done to you, so he kept you in his grasp, which you did not fight.

With a shaky voice, he spoke against your cheek as he held onto you. Your head found a cradle in his shoulder, where tears wetted his bare skin. On his breath was a gentle shhh sound, like a light breeze rustling the leaves of an ancient oak in cool night air. It comforted you, along with the steady motion of his hands on your back, moving in slow, languid circles.

But no longer could you only contain your emotions to your sobs. Now, you raised your head and faced him, looking him sharply in the eye despite the pain that singed your heart with each syllable:

“I had a plan,” you began. “I… I only wanted to get close to him. He called me to his chambers… I had a knife. I let him touch me…” Once again, you could no longer hold his gaze. You continued on, now tripping over your own words as you scrambled to explain, through a tear-soaked voice that trembled in fear of whatever reaction you’d receive. “Only just with his lips… His filthy lips. Then as soon as I could, I tried to stab him. I swear, all I wanted was to get close to him, long enough to kill him.”

The knight only looked at you with a steady gaze, one that only softened with each passing moment. You felt his arms tighten around you, and you weren’t sure if it was an attempt to comfort you, or to suffocate you. Either way, you would’ve died a thousand times to feel that touch.

But you longed most of all, now, to know exactly what he was thinking. To hear those words you knew must’ve been brewing inside that head of his—those words that would crush you under the weight of their rebuke. Though those words never came, no shame or disappointment, only another kind of pain in his eyes. A pain that was born of your sadness as each tear you shed sent a new wave of agony through his aching body.

Shakily, you whispered to him, pleading in all but words for him to tell you how much he hated you for betraying him, for letting another man touch you. “My love… Won’t you end my suffering and speak to me?”

At times, Daryl’s movements carried more meaning that any service his vocal cords could provide. All he could do in that moment was hold you by your cheeks, his thumbs meandering in circles to gently rub the tears into your skin.

And, finally, he did speak, but his words caught you off guard far more than you thought possible.

“What are you afraid of, princess?”

Afraid of?

“I… I do not understand.”

“The look in your eyes, the fear. You look afraid of me. Why?”

You swallowed back the lump in your throat as you shook your head, both in denial and in confusion. “I do not fear you.”

Quite the contrary, you wanted nothing more for him to hold you until your heart gave out.

“I—I fear that you will detest me,” you continued, now trying desperately to let your tears drown out your words. “I fear I’ve betrayed you.”

In your mind, you had, and Daryl would have had every right to leave you now: alone and pitiful. Though he didn’t. He only kept his eyes on yours, and though you had a shameful urge to look away, you could not tear your gaze from his. There was no spite in his eyes, no bitterness or loathing. Not even anger.

All you could see in his eyes was the same gentleness, the same kindness and utter servitude that he devoted to you with each passing moment his eyes took you in. That sentiment had always been there, nothing had changed, no matter what you could say. It would never change. There was no enmity there, only the strength of his love for you.

His hands held your cheeks still, pulling you gently closer until his forehead softly touched yours. The feeling made you shudder, as though still you could never fully comprehend the sensation his touch gave to you. You were sure that you would never get quite used to that feeling, though you never wanted to. That sense of novelty was a pleasant sensation all on its own.

“My princess,” he said, his grainy voice barely above a whisper as his nose touched yours. His lips began to upturn ever so slightly into the softest smile, natural and sweet. “There’s nothin’ you could do to make me think that.”

As you shuddered a shaky breath, he held you closer still. You let out a heavy sigh, one that felt like it had been lingering deep inside you ever since you escaped the Sanctuary.

“You’re trembling,” he said, running his coarse fingertips along the exposed skin of your neck, until his hand met the loose neckline of his chemise that you borrowed, draped over you more like a dress than a shirt as the oversized garment reached just below your thighs. He leaned back to look at you, still sniffling back tears. With a strong hand, he swept back your hair to nestle it in the warm crevice behind your ear.

“You cold?” he asked, already beginning to tug a blanket from under a nearby cushion. “Here—”

“No.” Your suddenness nearly startled him. It reminded you just how fragile he was, no matter how reluctant he was to show it. “I’m all right.”

Daryl knew, though, that you still could not shake the guilt, like a vulture’s ravenous gnawing at your heart. He knew you too well, so well that it almost frightened him. There was no one else with whom he could see through, whose transparency reflected a deep, intrinsic understanding beyond conscious comprehension. The depths of you were overwhelming, but he could never fight the profound urge to navigate them, despite the sadness that his love’s empathy could bring.

With a deep breath of his own, he brought you back to his lap. The ease with which he could manipulate your body with the most gentle yet sudden caress would never fail to momentarily paralyze you. You melted into his arms once again. It was only a matter of time before you became completely at his mercy, though there was absolutely no part of you that protested, except maybe that last shred of guilt.

“You know I love you,” he said. “You know I serve you.” You must have broken out into a smile, because he, too, smiled. “And you know that you’re here now. You’re alive. Whatever you did to get here, whatever I did to get here… They’re sacrifices—risks.”

You found your hands returning to his body, their place on his broad, firm shoulders solidified like indentations in concrete. Swallowing hard, you felt a chill run through you, but it was not from the fear of losing him now—it was the effect of his touch, his hands having found their way beneath the shirt he lent you, sprawled out over your back, stroking in gentle rhythms.

“Daryl.” Your voice seemed to crumble under the pressure of the air that you spoke shakily into, the utterance of his name so delicate upon your trembling lips. “What I did, it haunts me. Perhaps you can forgive me, but how will I forgive myself, when I let that man—”

He did not let you utter another word before he interrupted, his own voice soft with sympathy. How he could remain so patient with you in this state, you would never know.

“I know your heart, I know you.” Now he all but forced your weary head to rest upon his chest, where the gentle beating of his heart warmed your cheek. “The only anger I have is for the man who touched you, not you.”

But still, it was hard for you to forget. The only cure to that ailment seemed to be Daryl’s touch, his assurance that he loved you beyond what words could convey. You needed his touch, but not just skin to skin. There was more, a lingering desire that floated between you perpetually, yet was stronger now than ever before.

It was a desire that penetrates, that longs to be penetrated. The kind that only lovers of the truest caliber could satisfy in the company of one another, the company which you had been deprived of for far too long.

The pestilence Sir Negan left for you to wallow in would only be destroyed by the greatest expression of love—that which made all pain and sorrow and suffering pale in comparison to the feeling of knowing that your heart was in the safe hands of no one else but him, your lover.

Your knight.

When silence overcame you, he uttered your name softly against one cheek, while his hand delicately brushed over the other. If he touched you anywhere else, you might crumble into a million pieces, like an ancient Grecian statue carved from the most fragile marble.

Only the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth could be heard against your soft breaths caressing the shell of his ear, while your hands crept carefully up his chest, brushing over the creases of his underarms to grasp at his shoulders. They felt so hard, so firm and unbreakable. You held them tighter now, and in response, he tightened his arms around your waist to bring you ever closer, until your lips found his.

The kiss was tender, light, each of your lips dancing softly over the other’s. With a tilt of his head and a brief respite, he caught your lips again, this time more firmly, yet still somehow cautious.

Perhaps he’d never grow completely forthcoming in his lust for you, which seemed almost sacrilegious, yet somehow sacred. He knew that he’d be killed for this, but how on God’s green earth was he going to keep his hands off you? How could any star up above in those vast, empyreal heavens compare to the gleam in your eyes when he uttered your name, each syllable dripping with honeyed cadence? How could the rich, melodic refrain of any skilled bard’s lute come close to the dulcet sighs that tickled his ears so delectably, almost tauntingly? How could there be anything more soft, more supple, than your body—that which occupied his thoughts far more often than he could ever truly admit?

Even your scent roused his most lustful thoughts, that sweet citrusy musk entangled with heady notes of the most intoxicating rose, the petals of which could not compare to the plump, velvety lips he traced his work-worn thumb over now, parting them gently until a sliver of darkness formed, with just a flash of white where your teeth could be seen.

Finally, those lips opened just a bit more to speak again. “I want to forget that night,” you said. “I want to forget everything that’s happened… besides you.”

Truly, nothing was of consequence to you now, but him. You wanted to be enveloped in him. To be absorbed in him. To be one with him.

If he hadn’t been so lost in the vibrant hue of your glittering eyes, speckled with sparks alight from the nearby hearth, he might’ve noticed the feeling of your hands exploring his bare chest, your palms melting against the buttery surface of those defined muscles. When the sparkle in your eye lost his attention, he did feel it—that soft touch with just a hint of something more… indecent.

With a slow, meandering movement, never taking those silvery blue eyes from yours, he took both of your hands in his, where they rested so delicately in the strong cradle of his warm palms. He brought them to his lips, the touch of which was so featherlight that you could barely even hear the sound of them pressing an ever so sweetly suggestive kiss to your hands.

It was then that the chemise you wore slid slowly off your shoulder, its size much too big for your frame. With even just your collarbone and the slope of your neck now exposed, much to the delight of his increasingly wandering eyes, he knew there was no escape from the desperation you awakened in him. Only it was not just desperation, but the insatiable urge to provide for you the comfort you so needed. It was written clear as day in your eyes.

Even so, you could not let the heavy air between you go without another plea, though it seemed to him almost like a command—from a princess to a knight.

“Make me forget.”

And so he obliged, not with another kiss, but with a tight grip on your waist, lifting you until you sat upon his lap, where the heat of his center warmed the bare underside of your thighs. After he took a moment to gather his thoughts in the midst of his sudden haste, he did not keep you in that position for long. The feeling of your weight upon his lap was too divine, nearly too much. If he took you now with too much urgency, that which was so strong he could hardly hide it, he might reach the peak of his pleasure much too soon.

So you were caught in a slight whirlwind for just a moment, in one last burst of quickness punctuated by a low, raspy rumble in his voice. Now you were laid out rather ungracefully, resting on piles of weaved woolen blankets and furs strewn loosely upon the floor.

There was not as much hesitation now, having already seen your body in its most bare form. He lifted the chemise over your head with ease, and when the fabric no longer obscured your vision, you met his face—a gentle, almost unnoticeable curl of his lip.

Above you, his eyes took their time roaming your chest, but not just your breasts. There was a delicateness to you everywhere—the slope of your collarbones, the way your shoulders rolled as you started to grow aroused, the pulsing of the strained tendons in your neck.

But before he could bring his lips to kiss your neck as he so deliberately planned on doing, he noticed the now tipped over jar of amber-colored honey slowly dripping from the lip of the vessel onto the floor, not far from where your hair had been strewn about amidst the sudden movements of passion. Those same movements must’ve caused the nearby jar to lose its balance.

Now brought to his attention, the silken honey seemed to shimmer with a warm, enticing glow. His heavy, blown-out eyes returned to your body, now with a sparkle of mischief, perhaps. You weren’t entirely sure, as you’d rarely seen such a quality in his gaze before.

In a trance of combined anticipation and confusion as the man held his half-naked body over yours, you looked up at him with innocent questioning.

“My knight?” you asked quietly, your voice only a faint, fragile whisper, delicate as a butterfly’s wing. “You seem confounded.” A soft tickle of laughter trailed off from your voice. “Does something trouble you? You moved with such vigor only a moment ago.”

He was unsure of how to explain in words the idea that came to him then, though you seemed to have grown accustomed to his sometimes reticent nature. That would prove to work in his favor now, as he all but remained silent in response to your questioning, opting instead only to scoop a bit of honey onto his index and middle fingers, slowly removing them from the jar with a hefty glob of the sticky substance.

You turned your head to watch in confusion, which quickly became concern.

“Does your wound need more honey? Does it hurt?”

“No,” he replied simply, with a more serious tone of lust to his deep, gravelly voice, the vibrations of which sent a fresh shiver down your spine.

For several moments, you were held hostage by his gaze, which roamed down the expanse of your neck. Your heavy breathing told him what he needed to know—the way your chest heaved with each passing second. You craved him, more than ever before, perhaps. With each new breath, he swore he could hear a slight pleaing whimper just trailing behind.

Without another moment’s hesitation, he brought his honey-drenched fingers to your lips, already slightly agape.

But he did not want to force the liquid into your mouth, only to coat your lips in its sweetness.

So he traced the shape of your lips, leaving behind a trail of gold sheen to glaze the soft, plump skin. Despite your slight disorientation, you allowed him to do as he pleased. After all, there was no other way to forget the pain of all that you’d experienced. No other way to be completely enveloped in the pleasure of love.

Soon you could taste the honey seeping into your mouth, dripping slowly onto your tongue. It tasted sweet, of course, but as his lips gently pressed to yours, the taste seemed even sweeter.

Between your lips was a sticky mess of warm sighs and saccharine wetness, with his tongue invading your mouth impatiently, swirling feverishly as your hands reached up to grasp at his shoulders.

Your touch ignited a fire in him, deep in the pit of his stomach, from which a guttural moan melted into your mouth.

And he knew there was more of your body that he needed, more skin he could drench in the warm nectar of the honey, more skin he could lick clean.

A fragile sigh escaped your trembling lips as he separated himself from you abruptly, though the disappointment in your voice compelled him to return to your honeyed lips for just a moment to kiss them in an offer of apology for his momentary departure.

He separated once more, leaning to the side to find the jar of honey, and immediately collecting another hefty, dripping glob of golden syrup.

There was a shaky whimper in your voice when he trailed his honey-drenched fingers over your breast, circling slowly around the nipple.

The more he applied to the soft tissue of your nipple, the more the substance globbed and began to drip slowly, like molasses, down the slope of your breast, making your back arch at the tickling sensation.

The knight could only watch your breast become drenched in translucent golden liquid, the subtle scent tempting him to come closer, until you could feel his warm breath against your heaving chest.

An absent-minded sigh escaped your quivering lips, with his name: “Daryl…”

Just as he heard it, his own name spoken on the wings of a swan’s breath, his flattened tongue caught a plump drip of gold slowly making its way down your breast.

He licked upwards then, reaching the hardened bud of your nipple, where his tongue circled eagerly now, yet with a slowness just enough to delay your pleasure, to properly torment you with his toying attention.

But his own temptation prompted him to take the whole sweetened nipple into his mouth, which craved above all else to taste every inch of you—the delicate, virtuous princess writhing naked underneath him as he made use of your body to the fullest extent of his desire.

With his mouth upon your aroused nipple, he suctioned his lips, now himself becoming too impatient to merely kiss the engorged flesh.

The feeling sent your head reeling backwards against the pillow, with a low, breathy moan. Each kiss made you cry out louder, more impatiently as your body craved more of his kisses.

But what he wanted was more honey.

So he took the jar again, this time tilting it so that the golden liquid began to drizzle in zigzag patterns over your chest, then your stomach.

Now you felt drenched in honey, sticky with it. Not to the point of discomfort, but amusement at his fascination with it, his tongue now licking up the trail.

You let out a quiet laugh, your voice low and sultry as you began to speak. “You’re making a mess of me.”

He did not stop lapping up at the drizzled honey, except to look up at you with a subtle mischief gleaming in his eyes of quicksilver blue for a few moments, long enough to say, “A very sweet mess.”

Soon his lips returned to yours, while his chest pressed against yours in a sticky embrace. You couldn’t help but laugh softly against my mouth, while your hands reached up to loosely tangle in the soft umber colored tresses upon his head.

And it felt like heaven to him then—your softness underneath him, your own sweet taste overpowering the saccharine honey, the tickle of your laugh fluttering against his lips, the slight scratch of your fingernails upon his scalp, the intoxicating warmth between your legs opening up to take him in as your legs wrapped around his waist.

That eagerness of yours made him snicker. Unable to resist the urge to chide you a bit, he pulled his lips away for a moment.

“Your highness seems restless,” he said, nodding his nose against yours with a small but wicked smile curling to one side of his face. “I thought princesses were supposed to be patient and proper.”

With a tilt of your head, you glared up at him, only with a very slight sense of playful annoyance.

“You know nothing of patience or propriety, depraved knight. It is you who so wantonly tempts my resolve… Who compels me to crave your devilish touch, which causes my weary mind such carnal turmoil.”

The knight’s quiet laugh seeped out from the charmingly crooked crack in his lips. With a low hum, somewhere between amusement and lust, he leaned down to kiss his increasingly restless princess once more.

When the kiss broke, he brushed the back of his hand against your heated cheek in soothing motions as he spoke softly against your slightly pouty agape lips.

“Those are big words,” he said, with a low rumble of laughter underscoring his scratchy voice. “They sure sound pretty on your lips.”

As your hands absentmindedly roamed the broad expanse of his heaving chest, the muscles underneath the hair-speckled flesh flexing under your soft touch, you met his gaze from above you with a mischievous glimmer in your eye.

“My love,” you hummed softly, your eyelashes fluttering slowly against his cheek as his mouth roamed aimlessly over yours. “You torment me with your caresses… Your sweet touch.”

“You said it was devilish,” he replied between kisses, using your dramatized words against you.

“It is,” you laughed softly. “Devilish and sweet. But it’s your touch. I wish to feel it every moment of every day and every night for all eternity, and the eternity after that, and before that, and every eternity in between.”

Daryl’s hand lifted to the side of your face, gently placing a strand of unruly hair behind your ear, to continue his increasingly feverish onslaught of kisses on your other cheek.

“Yes, your highness,” he replied, much to your amusement. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

“Mm, you’re mine.”

After a momentary pause, he seemed to turn more serious—almost frightening—as he grabbed you with more impatient vigor, your arms having no choice but to cling around his neck. With your face surrounded by soft tresses of brown hair, you let out an instinctive cry, as though he was a predator and you were prey, about to be devoured. Though there was nothing in your biology that compelled you to fight him off. You’d accepted your fate, and you welcomed it.

Your weight was suddenly cradled by the softness of the bed beneath you, though your legs were still wrapped tightly around Daryl’s waist. That did not keep him restrained for long, for he soon unraveled himself from your entanglement and began to strip himself of his worn linen braies.

There was hardly any time to marvel at his anatomy—he soon climbed back over you, catching your breath with his mouth once again. You could at least feel his now unhindered length, though. You could feel it harden between your legs, where the warmth of your soft thighs made his cock begin to twitch from the pressure.

As though your body wasn’t close enough for his liking, he looped his arm under the arch of your back, lifting you up just enough to feel your belly pressed against his. If he concentrated enough, he swore he could feel the delicate fluttering of your excitement inside you.

The tingling became stronger now, his body moving above you with enough rhythm to force his cock against the fleshy folds between your legs. The feeling was still so foreign, having only felt it in its fullest form once before, but you knew that tingle just from the sight of him, the smell of him, the taste of him. He did not even need to touch you there to make your body react in such a way, you were certain.

Taking notice of your soft moans against his lips, and the slight gyration of your body, he used his free hand to find the warmth that so enticed him. His fingers settled in that crevice, staying still for a moment, until by some impulse they began to move. Up and down, up and down… A rhythmic motion not unlike the way the rest of his body moved, too. For your part, you broke the kiss to let out a moan that could not be contained by the velvet cage of his adoring mouth any longer.

“Oh!”

Your head had tilted back so far that your neck was now exposed, completely subject to his will. As his hand moved not faster, but with more pressure, more insistence, he trailed his lips down your jawline, leaving messy, imprecise kisses along your perfumed skin.

Applying increasing pressure, he sank his fingertips into you, that warm, sodden opening between your legs. The sensation was still so new, though the slight burning pain was less than before. You only clenched your teeth slightly, feeling his fingers extend deeper within you, curling upwards toward your belly.

For a moment, he could not pay attention to anything but the way you felt—the way your body reacted to his invasion. Your passageway seemed to pulse around his fingers ever so slightly, as if it was some innate reaction, coercing his fingers further.

He only noticed your slight discomfort when he looked at you, your eyes shut tight. He pressed his lips to your cheek, his hair falling in your face. It was soft, yet ticklish, like a curtain of brown feathers draped over you.

“You all right?” he asked, his voice a soft, soothing whisper. If his touch wasn’t pleasing you enough, his voice so gentle and yet gruff was sure to push you over the edge of pleasure and into the realm of extraordinary bliss. “Tell me if I hurt you.”

“It doesn’t hurt. It’s only slight… You’re quite gentle.”

Against your cheek, you could feel his lips curl into a smile. All the while, his fingers moved slowly, back and forth, migrating between the shallow part of you, and the deepest part.

“Do you like it this way, your highness? Slow… gentle? I could go faster, but I don’t wanna hurt you.”

With a laugh, you shook your head, amused. “You could hurt me and it would still feel like heaven.”

He smiled down at you, then pressed another kiss to those plump, agape lips, sparkling with wetness and trembling with desire. Daryl was never a particularly confident man, but something about the way you wanted him, craved him beyond anything he’d ever known, he felt like he had the whole world in his hands.

And now, he felt the world quake and shiver round his curled fingers, an accumulation of warm wetness pooling where his knuckles breached the entrance of your body in repetitive motions. Coupled with the aching softness of your uncontrollable moans were the sounds of his fingers moving inside you, the rhythmic, involuntary squeezing of the canal creating drenched and airy sighs of its own.

As his fingers pulsed inside of you, you clung tightly to his shoulders, the tan, sun-freckled skin stretched thinly over defined muscles. A strained sigh escaped your lips as your fingers dug into his skin. Daryl’s pace slowed steadily to keep you from coming too soon, but he knew you were so very close.

It amused him a little, the way your body was so sensitive to his touch. He found arousal in the way he could so easily bring you the ultimate pleasure, and the way he could withhold it at will. Despite how subservient he was to you, he could not help but revel in the dominance that came over him when so much control of your perfect body was given willingly over to him.

But you sighed and pouted as his fingers paused inside of you. Opening your eyes, you tilted your head and looked up at him—he traced your jawbone with his finger, while the fingers he had inside you playfully wiggled upwards to make you shiver.

“Daryl,” you sighed, not quite sure what else to say but his name.

In response, he smiled as hazy silvery blue eyes roamed your face, taking in each and every flawless feature. “You’re so beautiful… My sweet angel. I’d like to have you like this forever.”

Though your heart fluttered at his sweet words, you could only muster a few words, as your body anticipated its release: “Do not stop.”

But he did the opposite, removing his fingers altogether and leaving you throbbing, writhing desperately as you groaned softly.

Panting, he sat up, lifting himself up from the bed to look at you, taking you in for a moment as he decided on what to do next. After all, he was leading the way.

Before you could say another word, or even lift up your head to see what he was up to, you felt his hands wrap around your ankles, pulling you towards him as he stood at the end of the bed.

You managed a surprised exclamation at the sudden jolt, your legs now spread just wide enough to fit his body as he climbed over you, his weight holding you against the bed. Now he kissed you again, with lips and tongue moving wildly over yours. Lost in this passion, you found your hands exploring the wide, muscular surface of his back, moving in erratic circles. With each flex of his muscles underneath your soft palms, you let out a breathy sigh, swallowed by his mouth on yours.

As much as you craved his kiss, you knew you craved the hardness between his legs that was pulsing against your sodden entrance more. It was so close to being inside you, so close to that feeling you had only known once before, that you coveted ever since he first made love to you. There was an overwhelming emptiness there always now, where you hadn’t quite felt one before. You had known the carnal pleasures of sex, and now it was like a curse of desire had overtaken you. Not a desire just for the feeling, but for him, and the feeling only he could give to you.

He felt your desire, too. It only heightened his own as his lower body moved against yours, assuaging his hunger for the embrace of your body just enough to keep him from spoiling this moment of closeness with his impatience. You deserved more than a quick burst of passion that ended in an underwhelming sensation of relief. That was what he’d only known before, after all―mindless, loveless moments with nameless, faceless women who could satisfy his purely biological need in the most practical exchange of goods. These occasions were few and far between, but never satiating beyond that primal desire. This was unlike anything he’d felt before, and to make love to someone, real love, was a change of pace he had to orient himself with. A most welcome change, of course.

But he could not hold out much longer, he knew this of his body well enough. So at last he pulled his lips away from yours, his focus turning to the space where your bodies were so close to connecting. He reached down, with a series of gruff pants escaping between his lips, to bring the tip of his cock to your entrance.

There was just a tickle of his flesh brushing against yours, but it was enough to elicit a shiver and a sigh against his sweat-dripping cheek. There, you pressed your lips to his face, with the salt of his clammy skin on your tongue. As he slowly entered you, you felt your body loosen, no longer tense with need, but now just beginning to feel full and warm.

And with a deep, guttural moan, he buried himself further. Despite how slow he tried to move, he could not waste another moment―he did not want for anything in this moment but to be completely inside of you.

The feeling lingered for a while as both of your bodies rested in place. He did not move, neither did you. There was only the erratic beating of your hearts and the heavy breaths escaping your lips. Daryl’s head found its place in the space between your head and your shoulder, where he found refuge in the warmth of your hair, scented with galgant and cloves.

Though you could bask forever in the feeling of him inside you, still and deep, your desire was to feel him move again.

As if on their own accord, your hands moved swiftly down his back to squeeze the flesh of his buttocks, as you’d call it. Ass, as he would call it, you were sure. The feeling elicited a laugh which tickled your cheek.

“Where did you learn to do that, princess?”

“Nowhere,” you replied, just as he lifted himself up to look down upon you. There was a look of playfulness in his eyes, with a considerable amount of increasingly impatient lust. It excited you more, so you moved yourself as much as you could in an attempt to feel the friction of his cock inside you.

Amused at your clumsy wiggling, he relented with a subtle swirl of his hips and a movement of his body which pulled him further out of you, until he slowly buried himself deeper again.

His arms propped up the bulk of his weight as he moved in and out of you at increasing pace, his breath becoming more and more ragged all the while. Nothing could hold him back as he began to lose control of himself. Every cell in his body screamed for release, and he couldn’t slow down now. His lower body moved faster with each thrust that shook you to your core, where the tingly feeling of pleasure was building up inside once again.

Wide-eyed and breathless, your hands moved to his shoulders in an attempt to keep yourself steady, but it was no use. His sheer physical strength and size was enough to make your body practically seize from the force of his thrusts. In these desperate, hungry movements, there was a deep reverence—a kind of devotion you’d never known before, not even as a princess. He made love to you like it was an act of worship, in every conceivable way.

From the way he focused on you, as though the sun and stars revolved around you, to the feeling of his body making every frantic, passionate movement not only to sate his need, but to please you, he wanted nothing more than to serve you, as was his sworn oath.

And as you came closer to losing control of your loins, your body squeezed and writhed around him. In a fit of pleasure, so close to the precipice of bliss, your back arched and your head was thrown backwards with an involuntary spasm, as your legs clenched tight around his waist to draw him further into you.

He was so deep, and you felt so full. The pain was there, lingering, as you were stretched open again and again. In all your ignorance, a part of you feared he’d tear you open, but you trusted him—your gallant, noble knight.

Now your hands held for dear life to his upper arms, where well-worn and well-defined muscles gleamed with sweat and ached with each part of him that needed release, which was soon to come. Your heavy, quickened breaths formed a pattern that seemed to match his, with occasional moans, groans, and even a slight curse or two escaping his tightened lips.

And soon, a sudden wave of vibrations overtook you—that sensation you’d been dreaming of since the first night he bedded you. It was like a hurricane sweeping through your body, each new pulse of tingling pleasure surging through you like a strong gust of wind that left you squirming and crying out underneath him.

It was a feast for his eyes to see you like this, and to know just how much power his love held over you. With each gasp, each breathy moan, each soft convulsion that contorted your body, he lost himself in your bliss.

He couldn’t help but kiss your trembling lips as your legs wrapped tighter around his waist, pulling his body further against you and into your pulsing center. This feeling, along with the soft dance of his tongue across and around yours, drew him closer to his own release.

It had been buried deep in the back of his mind from the moment he realized you were taken—that terrible longing, tainted by the fear that never again would he feel this again. Of course he knew the most important thing was rescuing you and returning you home safe, but there was that selfish part of him that desired you carnally, because once was not enough.

Now that you were safe, he feared he’d never be able to go another second without you again.

So, with a final deep thrust and a hearty groan, he let his body go. He was quick enough to free himself from you, releasing the buildup of his arousal onto the soft inside of your thigh.

The warmth tickled you slightly as it trickled down. You watched through hazy, lidded eyes as Daryl’s hand stroked his pulsing cock until it was rendered limp as if with exhaustion. His body drooped over yours, his head cradled against your shoulder. Fast, heavy breaths warmed your neck. In a matter of seconds, he caught his breath enough to catch your lips with his once more.

Heady air thick with the scent of honey and sex swirled between your bodies, moving languidly beneath the fur blanket Daryl had draped over the two of you somewhere between lazy, sweaty kisses and tangled arms.

Tonight was different than the first night you made love. That night, the passionate fire he stoked inside of you kept your mind alert enough to stay awake with him into the wee hours of the morning, murmurs of dreams and worries slipping between your lips. Tonight, you could hardly keep your eyes open once you’d felt your body sink into the straw-filled cot beneath you.

Daryl, in his lust, hadn’t noticed you’d begun to drift off as he showered you in kisses. When your hands began to slowly lose their tight, needful grip on his shoulders, he let his lips separate from yours with a smile. Your head sank like an anchor onto the pillow beneath you. With your last sensation the feeling of your knight’s lips pressed gently to your temple, you entered a deep, much-needed sleep.

The night was still when you awoke in a slight daze, colored a deep brownish orange from the flicker of the dying hearth. Your newborn senses clung to the feeling of the soft fur beneath your outstretched hand, where once Daryl lay.

You stirred awake at the realization of his absence. Sitting up, the fur blanket fell from your body to expose your naked breasts. A sudden shock dispelled any last remnants of sleep. You weren’t at all accustomed to sleeping in the nude, after all.

Moreover, you feared something, though you weren’t quite sure what, had happened to your knight.

As you raised yourself from the modest cot to dress yourself in the once discarded chemise, you could not help the fearful thought of whatever remained of the Saviors taking Daryl from you, leaving you alive in some cruel, twisted act of revenge for the death of their leader.

But as you stepped outside, into the darkness of the early morning, Daryl’s voice, grainy and soft, came to you through the crisp air. In your slight daze from waking just moments ago, it took you a moment or two to recognize his voice speaking your name.

Your eyes caught up faster than your ears when you turned to see him, illuminated only by the light of a small lantern placed on the pebbled ground near his feet. He was dressed already, a simple tunic of linen white, with a wool cloak of deep indigo on his back. The closer you stepped towards him, the more the almost crimson glow of the majestic Friesian’s coat shimmered to distinguish the creature from the black of night.

“Phantom?” you spoke softly, rubbing your sleep-heavy eyes as if to wake yourself from a dream. You’d almost forgotten about the loyal steed, and it was hard to imagine him surviving the chaos of the battle just hours ago, but then again, you survived.

Phantom seemed to perk up at the sound of your voice. He lifted his head to meet your eyes, and left the side of his master to slowly come towards you. The gentle creature’s muzzle seemed to slide perfectly between your delicate hands as he huffed a breath of air. After a few moments of accepting your pets, he raised his head to nuzzle your shoulder, nearly putting you off balance with the sheer force of the large animal’s affections.

Daryl flinched for a moment, about ready to lunge forward to catch you if you fell, but you caught yourself with your back foot, laughing despite the slight pain of the raw blisters that began to form there from last night’s escapades.

“Oh, I am so glad to see you.” The horse lowered his head as if in reverence, some kind of formal acknowledgement of your voice. You ran your fingers through Phantom’s silky forelock, which you knew to be quite pleasing to the destrier. “I thought I might never do so again.”

“He found his way home.” Daryl’s voice came closer, until you felt the warmth of his chest against your back. His chin rested upon your shoulder, a comforting weight. “Like he always does.”

Daryl’s arms squeezed tight around your waist, pulling you flush against him. While still lavishing attention upon the rather needy horse before you, you closed your eyes and took in his scent of pine and honey. But you did not stay still long, turning to see his face you’d dreamed of, just to remember that he was real. Phantom, though, huffed in slight disappointment.

“When will my father come?” you asked quietly. Something about the stillness and the darkness of the early morning, just a matter of time before the sun would begin to rise, made you whisper.

Daryl’s chin lifted towards the distant horizon, where the first sliver of dawn slowly parted the darkness of night to give in to the pale light of morning.

“He said we’d meet here at first light. Should be any moment now.”

Daryl’s mind drifted elsewhere. Last night’s events had left him with a whirlwind of emotions and revelations. Negan’s death brought with it the triumph of war, the splendor of victory that he knew well from practically a lifetime of battle. And with war came the inevitable grief of countless lives lost. Daryl’s thoughts lingered on the duke, the prince, and the rogue Savior who’d helped them. He wondered if they’d made it out of the dungeon alive.

And when those thoughts gave way to the realization that, within only a matter of time, you would return to the arms of your father, and no longer would you be his. The king would never understand your love for each other. Why should he, anyway? Daryl was of lowly birth, even if he was a knight. As much as he wanted to believe King Ezekiel would allow him to marry you, he knew he was more likely to end up headless at the mere suggestion.

As he held you now, and as he knew you in the most sacred passions of love that you had shared, you were not just a princess, but his princess. When you were away from him, the world around you blissfully unaware of the truth, you were just a princess. Not his, at least as far as the world was concerned. Despite all logic, he knew there would need to be a time when the love between you was not hidden in the shadows of the forest.

Daryl’s pensiveness was not lost on you now. You felt him cling tighter to you as he looked off into the distance, a heaviness in his face. Your hand caressed his cheek with enough pressure to bring his attention back to you. His expression became lighter by just a tad, but whatever plagued his thoughts was still lingering.

“What is it, my love?”

“Nothing, I just…” He trailed off, shaking his head as if to rid himself of these worries. “I wish we had more time.”

Where there was once a look of concern blossomed a sweet smile that was almost potent enough to make him forget your father altogether.

“We always have time. We will make time, like we always have.”

But in your heart, you knew what he meant, and you felt the same. How long could you go on like this, hiding your love from your father? Escaping into the woods to consummate your love in secret? For as much as you loved him, and as sure as you were that your heart belonged to no one else, you were not sure how you could keep your love a secret much longer.

Still, the time would come when you could tell your father. You were sure of that.

“You told me that you’d marry me,” you whispered, lips fluttering against the soft hairs of his cheek. “You said someday, you’d marry me. And a knight always keeps his promise, especially to his lady.”

The knight let out a huff, then soon found himself nuzzled into the warmth of your hair, where memories of every moment spent in your company curled around his face in a deep, honey-scented embrace.

“Someday,” he murmured. “I promise you, my princess.”

When his lips touched yours, he felt your tremble against the cold. He pulled the cloak from his back to swing it around you and wrap you in a woolen cocoon. Pulling you ever closer, your chest was heated by the fire that seemed to perpetually burn in his. Another longer, deeper kiss, then a smile shared between the two of you.

“Perhaps one day, I will be your queen.”

His warm hands rubbed your back in steady motions as his eyes traced dreamily over your face, each curve and crevice and color another feature he would keep to memory for in those moments when he could not hold you. He wanted for nothing in this moment—everything he could’ve dreamt of wanting was here, in the shape of you.

“You are my queen.”

A new heat rouged your cheeks and ignited your heart. To be his queen seemed to be the greatest height you could ever reach, if only it meant you were the queen of his heart.

Dawn stained the sky with rich hues of rosy orange and dusty violet as you fell into another kiss, though your lips would be torn away by the distant sound of clopping hooves coming closer beyond the horizon. Not just a handful, but nearly hundreds.

But the fearful flutter in your heart soon subsided as the blue flag of Alexandria raised above the militia, their silhouettes coming into view. They were led in triumph by the king, flanked on either side by Duke Richard, and one man you did not recognize—Prince Jesus of Hilltop. In your father’s hand was the chain that leashed his mighty companion, Shiva. They were victorious, and no more would you fear Negan, nor walkers, nor death itself. Not when your knight was near.

Not even death could tear you from him, and as you held his gaze, you felt a calmness overcome you—a relief, as though you knew that everything, somehow, would be all right.

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