#Fairy Dress Tailor

[anime-to-the-t]

[reilemon]

Return To You

♡︎ synopsis: You rely on Sylus to keep you warm on a winter getaway.

♡︎pairing: Sylus x fem!reader

♡︎ tags: fluff, oral (female receiving), love making (for a change)

♡︎ word count: 6.1k

♡︎ a/n: some cute holiday fluff for @hesperisms 💕✨

♡︎ Not beta read, but I'm still giving a shoutout to my dearest friend and my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎.

divider by @anitalenia

The town square looks like a winter wonderland straight out of a postcard. Fairy lights shimmer like little stars from every tree, their warm glow reflected on the thin snowy blanket and salt-covered cobblestones. The air carries the sweet scent of roasted chestnuts, caramel apples, and spiced mulled wine – the aromas making your mouth water with every step as you lead, or better yet, drag Sylus towards the ice rink. You’d been eyeing the rink all night, and now, with only a handful of skaters, it’s the perfect time to venture out.

You turn to Sylus who is dressed impeccably, as always, his coat tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders. You can’t help but smile at his rosy cheeks and nose, the color from the winter air making him look less intimidating. Though, he still stands out in this festive setting.

"You’ve been indulging me all day," you say, leaning closer to him, pulling his focus back to you. "I think it’s time to try something fun together."

He raises an eyebrow, his lips quirking in a small, amused smirk. "And your idea of fun is strapping blades to our feet and risking broken bones?"

You laugh. "C’mon, it’s almost empty!" You nod towards the skate rental stand. “Let’s go and get our skates!”

"Our?" he repeats. "I’m more than happy to watch you make a spectacle of yourself while I stay safely on solid ground."

You pout, crossing your arms over your winter coat. "That’s not fair. I’m not good at this, and I need someone strong to keep me upright."

Sylus doesn’t say anything for a moment, his gaze shifting back to the ice rink, then to you, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Don’t tell me you’ve never ice-skated before," you tease, a grin tugging at your lips.

"I didn’t say that," he replies smoothly. "I’m simply saying I prefer to observe."

"That’s just a fancy way of saying you’re bad at it," you counter and playfully nudge his side with your elbow. "Please, Sylus? It’ll be fun. I promise not to let go of your hand."

His mouth opens as if to argue, but your wide-eyed, pleading look stops him. He exhales slowly, a puff of mist curling in the air between you, and shakes his head with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

"Fine," he mutters. "But if I fall, you’re to blame."

You beam at him, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the skate rental stand. "Deal! But I’m warning you now—I’m terrible at this, so we might both fall."

As the cheerful attendant hands over your skates, you glance up at Sylus.

"Thank you," you whisper, squeezing his hand.

"Don’t thank me yet," he replies, as he looks at the skates. "Let’s see if we survive this first."

As you step onto the rink, Sylus’ grip on your hand tightens, the grip of his gloved hand firm and his presence reassuring against the slippery unpredictability of the ice. He steps further, leading you slowly with him. His fitness and natural grace give him an edge, but you can tell by the slight furrow in his brow that he’s carefully adjusting to the sensation of skating.

"You need to keep your knees slightly bent," Sylus instructs as he glances down at you wobbling by his side.

You giggle nervously, your free hand flailing slightly for balance. "Easier said than done! This is harder than I remember."

He watches you with a mixture of amusement and focus as you take a cautious step forward. "Relax. Lean forward slightly— I know you can do it."

Following his instructions, you do as you’re told, feeling a little more stable as you start to glide, although slowly. Sylus moves alongside you, his strides smooth and confident now, his hand never letting go of yours.

"You’re a natural," you tease, grinning up at him.

"Hardly," he replies with a small smirk. "But at least one of us needs to stay upright."

The sound of your laughter fills the crisp air as you grow bolder, gliding a little faster, though your feet still wobble occasionally. Sylus keeps up with you effortlessly, his focus shifting between your movements and the icy terrain ahead. At one point, as you make a sharper turn, your skate catches slightly, making you stumble. Before you can hit the ice, Sylus’ arm wraps securely around your waist, pulling you close.

"Careful, kitten." he murmurs, as he steadies you.

You laugh, your cheeks flushed from the cold and him. "Thank you. You’re like my personal safety net."

Sylus’ lips twitch in a faint smile, but he says nothing, his hand lingering on your waist for a moment longer before he releases you. Feeling emboldened after a few minutes of smooth gliding, you try to add a little twist, lifting your arms and attempting a small spin. The move immediately throws you off balance, and before you can topple over, Sylus catches you again, his grip firm but careful.

"No spins," he says firmly, leaving no room for negotiation.

"But—"

"You’re going to hurt yourself," he interrupts. Even though he is serious, you can see that he’s amused by your confidence in your skills.

You pout playfully. "Fine. But only if you promise we’ll come back for more ice-skating dates until I can spin."

Sylus sighs, the mist leaving his lips with the faint smile. "Fine. We’ll come back. But only if you promise not to try anything reckless again."

"Deal," you say brightly, grabbing his hand again as you continue gliding across the ice.

Though Sylus was reluctant at first, he finds that skating isn’t so bad as he watches you enjoy yourself. The cold air bites at your cheeks, your laughter echoing in the winter night, and for a brief moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you on the shimmering ice.

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

After leaving the ice rink, a little flushed and breathless, Sylus leads you through the bustling rows of stalls. He buys you your favorite candy, while he picks out some odd, colorful confections for himself—strange mix of flavors that you wouldn’t have dared to try, but he seems intrigued.

As you stroll further, your eyes catch on a vibrant display of oversized plushies at a game stall. A particularly cute dragon plushie catches your attention, its soft fabric shimmering slightly under the lights. You figure that this is a good time to regain some dignity you lost on the ice. You step up to the booth, pay the attendant, and pick up the air rifle. The attendant’s jaw practically drops as you shoot all the targets effortlessly, and Sylus’ admiration shines evident as he watches you from the side.

“Is there any space left in your apartment for more toys?” he remarks as you hug the plushie to your chest.

You shrug with a self-satisfied smile. “If not, I’ll just bring some to you.”

He chuckles, slipping his hand into yours as you continue walking through the festive town, the dragon plushie tucked snugly under your arm.

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

Back at the cozy lodge, you push the door open, greeted by the warmth and the comforting scent of cedar and cinnamon. Sylus steps in behind you, his arms carrying bags of candies, trinkets, and wrapped gifts you’d picked out for your friends back home. You set your dragon plushie on the couch, fluffing its wings a little before turning to help him organize everything.  He puts down a bottle of on the kitchen counter and you find the small bundle of herbs you’d picked out. After setting everything down, you feel the weight of the day in your limbs. Your arms and thighs ache from all the skating and carrying bags, but it’s almost a satisfying buzz in your muscles.

Sylus turns to you, tilting his head slightly. “You’re slowing down,” he says.

“I’m not slowing down,” you protest, but a yawn betrays you. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“Come on,” he says, motioning toward the hallway. “Let’s clean up. The bathtub’s big enough to fit both of us.”

You glance at him, but he’s already on his way to the bathroom, so you follow behind, almost giddy at the thought of a relaxing bath.

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

He adjusts the temperature in the shower while you start to light candles around the room. Steam begins to fill the air, carrying the faint scent of the bath salts you placed by the tub. Stripping down, you step into the shower together. The warm spray cascades over your skin, washing away the remnants of the day’s adventures.

Once clean, you both step out and towel off. Sylus moves to the bathtub, sprinkling the bath salts into the hot water, the scent rising as he swirls the water with his hand, testing the temperature.

“Perfect,” he murmurs and takes your hand in his, helping you step into the tub first.

A relieved sigh leaves your lips as the hot water envelops you, the salts already working their magic on your tired muscles. Sylus follows, settling in across from you his broad shoulders just visible above the water’s shimmering surface. His silver hair clings to his forehead in damp strands, and his gaze is softened by the dim light as he takes in the sight of you.

You let out a long sigh, your eyes fluttering closed as you lean your head back against the bath pillow. “Well,” you mumble, “goodnight.”

A low, amused chuckle rumbles from his chest. Without a word, his leg nudges yours under the water, his foot brushing lightly against your calf, making your eyes flick open and look at him in mock annoyance.

“You can’t fall asleep here,” he says with a grin tugging at his lips.

You grin back, letting your toes nudge his shin in retaliation. “I wouldn’t. There’s hardly any room for my legs anyway, with yours taking up all the space.”

Sylus shifts slightly, the movement causing ripples across the water’s surface, as he lifts a hand and gestures toward you.

"Come here." he says, his voice low.

Your heart skips a beat at the invitation, but you don’t hesitate. Shifting forward, you move carefully through the water, as you settle in the space between his legs. He reaches up, his hands brushing lightly against your shoulders, and the weight of them is reassuring, grounding.

“Would you like a massage?” he asks, his breath warm against your damp neck.

“Yes, please,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

His hands begin to move, firm but gentle at the same time, starting at the curve of your shoulders. His thumbs press into the tense muscles there, working out knots you didn’t realize were still lingering from the day. A sigh escapes your lips before you can stop it. His hands slide down, from your shoulders to your arms, taking a moment to squeeze gently at the tension in your biceps before moves on the muscles of your upper back. Every touch melts away the strain of the evening. The water sways gently around you both, the soft ripples lapping against your skin.

“You’re easy to please,” he murmurs, a faint smile audible in his tone.

“Not true,” you counter, though the words lack conviction “Okay, maybe a little true.”

“You’re good at this,” you admit, your voice drowsy from the combination of his touch and the heat of the bath. His hands move to the back of your neck, his thumbs pressing into just the right spot to make you exhale deeply.

“I know. I have good hands.” he replies with amusement in his tone.

You laugh softly, letting your head rest against his chest for a moment as his hands finish their slow journey over your back, neck, and arms. Then, his hands slide around you, wrapping gently across your middle. You let out a soft, contented sigh as you fully lean back against him. Sylus rests his chin against the top of your head as he adjusts to hold you more snugly, his breath tickling the crown of your head. For a moment, neither of you speaks. Your eyes flutter closed, and you know that his are likely closed too, the tension you sensed in him earlier replaced by a rare ease.

You shift slightly, turning your cheek to rest against his chest, and the subtle vibration of his breath hums beneath your skin. You rest your hands on his forearms, your thumbs to kneading gently into his muscles. He hums in approval, the low sound vibrating against you.

Sylus’ hands start to move, his palms gliding over your stomach, as they settle on the curve of your waist, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive dip of your sides. Your breath catches as his hands venture lower, skimming over your thighs. His fingers linger there, kneading the muscle with firm, expert precision, but your legs remain closed. A soft moan escapes your lips, and you feel Sylus’ breath against your neck as he leans forward. His lips press against the curve where your shoulder meets your neck, planting slow, languid kisses that send tingling warmth through you.

“Relax,” he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper. His hands shifting upward now, his fingers grazing just beneath the swell of your breasts, his touch featherlight, drawing another gasp from you.

Your heartbeat quickens as his hands finally move higher, cupping your breasts. His palms glide over the soft, wet skin, his thumbs circling your nipples in a way that makes you arch slightly against him, pressing into his chest. The combination of his teasing touch and the sensation of his lips against your neck leaves you utterly lost in the moment.

His lips trail higher, brushing against your jawline, before the warmth of Sylus' hands leaves your skin. His palms slide gently from your breasts before wrapping around your middle. He presses a kiss to your temple. "The water’s getting cold," he murmurs, his embrace tightening for just a moment.

You sigh, reluctant to leave the comfort of the tub and his embrace. "You’re right." you reply, your voice tinged with disappointment.  

Sylus is the first to step out of the tub, water dripping down his toned physique as he offers you a hand. His grip is firm, steadying you as you rise, goosebumps spreading all over your wet skin. Your gaze unintentionally drops—and there it is. Your cheeks burn, and Sylus catches your look, a teasing smirk curling at his lips. “We’ll handle that later.” he says smoothly.

You bite your lip as you avert your gaze, heart fluttering as you grab a towel. After you dry off and pull on your bathrobe, the plush fabric warm against your skin, an idea pops into your head. Still slightly damp, you practically skip to your luggage bag.

Sylus watches you with a raised brow, leaning casually against the doorframe as he ties his robe around his waist. “What are you up to now?”

“Wait and see!” you say, as you unzip the bag and pull out the matching pajama set you’d hidden there—a playful, festive pattern of candy canes and gingerbread men. It smells faintly of your fabric softener, the scent wafting up as you hold it out to him.

Sylus takes the set from your hands, his eyes narrowing as he inspects the goofy design. He exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Of course, you’d pick something like this,”

“You’re wearing it,” you say firmly with a giddy smile.

With a mock sigh of resignation, Sylus slips into the pajamas, the soft fabric snug against his frame. You bite your lip to stifle a laugh, but he catches the gleam in your eyes.

“Laugh it up,” he says. "I’ll remember this.”

You grin unabashedly, slipping into your matching set before leading him out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen, eager to make mulled wine. Sylus opens the wine bottle while you gather the spices and a small pot. The two of you move seamlessly, your bodies brushing now and then as you prepare. The smell of cinnamon, cloves, and citrus soon fills the air, mixing with the aroma of red wine. As the wine simmers gently on the stove, Sylus excuses himself briefly, heading toward the living room. Moments later, the faint sound of a match striking is followed by the soft crackle of the fireplace. The warm scent of wood begins to fill the air, mingling with the spicy aroma of the mulled wine bubbling in the kitchen.

When he returns to the stove, you leave the kitchen to him and go around the other rooms, gathering every pillow and blanket you could find. Then you go to the living room where you arrange them into a cozy nest on the plush rug, settling everything just right by the fire. Satisfied with your work, you sit down and wrap yourself in one of the soft blankets, snuggling into it as you hold a well-loved box of Travel Size Kitty Cards in your hands.

When Sylus steps into the room carrying two steaming mugs of mulled wine, his lips quirk into an amused smile as he takes in the sight of you, warm and snug, holding the deck of cards. “Do you really want to spend the evening losing to me at this?”

“Losing?” You pout, shuffling the cards with more determination now. “You think you’re so good at this game, don’t you? Luck doesn’t count as skill.”

Sylus arches a brow. “Luck is a skill when you know how to use it.” He says as he sits across from you.

You roll your eyes, finishing the shuffle and placing the deck between you. “Alright, three rounds. I’ll win at least two, and when I do—” you lean forward with a cocky grin— “we’re buying matching reindeer onesies tomorrow.”

He shakes his head. “Reindeer onesies? That’s your wager?” He pauses, feigning deep contemplation, then leans closer. “Fine. But if I win, you’re wearing the gift I got you for the rest of the night.”

Your cheeks immediately heat at his words, your mind conjuring up images of delicate lace. You try to play it cool, though your blush betrays you, and you can’t quite meet his gaze. “Oh,” you murmur, “alright. Deal.”

His eyes catch every flicker of your expression. “You seem eager for me to win.”

You sigh, grabbing the deck of cards and start setting up the game. “Don’t get cocky, Sylus.” But as you focus on your hand, you find yourself secretly rooting for him, curious to see what he has picked out for you.

“Let’s see, then,” he murmurs, his voice rich with confidence as he picks up his cards. “Try to keep up.”

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

Sylus shakes his head as he gathers the cards, sliding them back into the little box, his smug grin never leaving his face.

"First round victory got you cocky," he teases. "And that, kitten, was your undoing."

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms. "The wine clouded my judgment," you huff, your tone a mix of irritation and playful defiance.

Sylus chuckles as he sets the box aside. "We both know that’s not true," he replies. "You’ve had, what? One mug? Hardly enough to make you lose focus. So, really… it’s just you."

His grin widens as he leans back on one hand, utterly at ease while you sit there pouting. The firelight catches in his eyes, and the smugness radiating off him is maddening.

You feel your cheeks flush—not just from the fire or the wine. He’s right; you’re not drunk. The wine has only left you feeling perfectly warm, relaxed and a little tingly. And, unfortunately, that buzz has also heightened your awareness of him—the way he’s watching you, the faint curve of his lips both infuriating and unbearably attractive. You grumble something unintelligible, sinking further into your blanket cocoon, but Sylus, with his insufferable smirk, isn’t about to let you escape the moment unscathed.

He rises gracefully from the rug and he strides toward the bedroom. You watch him go, the wine’s gentle buzz amplifying your anticipation.

What could it be?

Your first thought is lingerie—something delicate and lacy, designed to make you blush the moment you open it. A dress, perhaps? you wonder. But then you dismiss the idea with a shake of your head; Sylus has already gifted you a breathtaking dress for the holiday banquet earlier this season. Maybe it’s a ridiculous onesie, you think. A cat? A sheep? Something he’d insist you wear just to tease you mercilessly the entire night. The mental image makes your cheeks flush, not entirely from embarrassment—because, honestly, you’d probably wear it, just to see that rare, carefree laugh of his.

Before your thoughts spiral further, Sylus returns, with a small box in his hands. Your breath catches. The unmistakable blue hue and the satin white bow make your eyes widen. He settles down across from you, and holds the box out. His smiles softly. "One of the gifts I brought for you," he says. "I thought it fitting for the trip."

Your heart flutters as you accept the gift. You gently tug at the bow, setting aside the satin ribbon, and your fingers tremble slightly as you lift the lid of the box. Your smile stretches wide the moment you see the necklace nestled inside the box, a heart-shaped pendant glimmering in the room’s dim light. Joy bubbles up in your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you lunge forward, wrapping Sylus in a tight hug.

"Thank you," you murmur against his shoulder.

His arms hold you firmly for a brief moment before you pull back just enough to plant a smooch on his lips, quick and filled with gratitude. He smiles against your lips, his hand brushing over your back before you settle back into your spot to admire the necklace again. You lift the chain, examining every detail of the stunning craftmanship. But as your eyes adjust to the dim light, you notice something different. Your brow furrows, and you tilt the pendant closer.

The usual engraving isn’t there.

Instead, in elegant script, you read: Please return to Onychinus N109 Zone.

Your heart flutters, the customization turning an already beautiful gift into something deeply personal.

Sylus notices your pause and leans forward slightly, his voice low and warm. "It felt more fitting this way."

You glance up at him, and all you can do is nod.

"Let me," he says softly, reaching for the necklace. You hand it to him, and he moves closer, draping the chain around your neck. His fingers brush against your skin as he fastens it, sending a small shiver down your spine. He leans back to admire his work, his eyes gleaming as they move from the pendant to your face.

"It suits you," he says.

"Thank you," you say again, your fingers brushing over the pendant, feeling its cool surface against your skin.

Sylus’ lips curl into a playful smirk as his gaze dips briefly to your outfit. "But those pajamas don’t really go with it."

You roll your eyes at the comment, but as you replay his words, you stop. Your eyes narrow in mock accusation. "Wait…"

Wear my gift for the rest of the night.

Your face heats, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coiling in your stomach as you glance down at the necklace. You’re acutely aware of his presence, of the way his eyes haven’t left yours.

"I—" you start, but the words catch in your throat as he shifts closer to you.

Sylus’ hands move slowly to the hem of your pajama top, his fingertips delicately brushing against the fabric, his eyes locked on your face, waiting for your permission. Wordlessly, you lift your arms, and his lips quirk in a soft smile. He takes his time pulling the top over your head, the cool air of the room kissing your skin as it becomes bare. A shiver runs through you, goosebumps rising along your arms and chest as your pajama top is discarded.

"I’m going to be cold the rest of the night now," you pout, half-joking.

Sylus leans forward, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. When he pulls back, he whispers against your lips. "I’ll make sure you stay warm."

His words send a jolt of heat straight to your core as he guides you down, his weight pressing you into the soft blanket beneath. Your legs part instinctively, inviting him closer. Sylus hovers over you, his lips finding yours in a slow, intoxicating kiss. The faint taste of wine clings to him, rich and heady, as his tongue teases yours. Your fingers thread into his hair, pulling him deeper, needing him closer. He growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your mouth as he rolls his hips, grinding his hardness against your craving heat.

The sudden pressure against your clothed pussy makes you gasp into his mouth, your body arching into him as you feel the hard length of him straining against the fabric of his pajamas. Sylus pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his red eyes dark with hunger, his lips slick and swollen from the kiss. The firelight flickers over his sharp features, making him look devastatingly irresistible. His hips roll against yours again, grinding just right, pulling a desperate gasp from your lips as heat pools deep in your core.

He leans in, his breath tickling your skin before he drags his lips slowly along your pulse, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses that make your body arch into him. His tongue flicks over your skin, tasting you, the scrape of his teeth making you shiver beneath him.

He shifts slightly, his mouth traveling lower, trailing kisses down to your chest. A soft moan escapes your lips when his lips capture the peak of one breast. His tongue swirls around your nipple, teasing before he takes it into his mouth, sucking gently. At the same time, his fingers find your other breast, kneading it with care, his thumb circling the sensitive bud, the attention making you arch into his touch.

"Sylus," you whisper, his name tumbling from your lips as your fingers tangle in his hair again, holding him close to you.

He hums in response, the vibration adding to the sensation as his mouth continues savoring your body. His free hand skims down your side, tracing every curve, every dip, before settling at your waist. He releases your breast with a soft, wet sound, his lips immediately finding your belly. Then, his kisses trail lower, each press of his mouth against your skin making your impatience grow, but his hands steady your hips as his lips linger just above the waistband of your pajama pants.

His eyes flick up to meet yours. The way he looks at you—hungry, tender, and utterly devoted—makes your breath catch. The heat pooling between your thighs becomes unbearable, your panties damp with need as you writhe beneath him.

Finally, Sylus hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pajama pants and underwear, pulling them down in one smooth motion. His tongue darts out to wet his lips when he takes in the sight of you, bare and ready for him. Sylus starts slow, savoring every moment as his lips plant tender kisses along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

"You’re trembling," he murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them wider. "So responsive... so beautiful."

The warmth of his breath fans over your dripping pussy, teasing, as he lets his lips linger just close enough for you to feel the ghost of a touch. Finally, his mouth moves to where you need him most. His tongue flattens against your folds, licking a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, making you gasp, your hips bucking instinctively toward his mouth. His tongue circles your clit, before his lips close around the swollen bundle of nerves, sucking gently at first, then harder as he finds the rhythm that makes your moans turn into cries.

One hand remains on your thigh, keeping you spread open for him, while the other slides up. His middle finger traces along your entrance, teasingly dipping in before retreating, then plunging back in, this time to the knuckle. He groans against your clit, as if the sensation of you gripping his finger drives him just as wild. He adds a second finger, his long digits stretching you, curling just right to press against your sweet spot. The dual sensation of his mouth and fingers has you writhing beneath him, drawing you closer to the edge. His tongue flicks rapidly over your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, the wet sounds mixing with your breathless cries.

Your thighs quiver, and he knows you’re close - his fingers curl deeper, pressing harder against that perfect spot as his lips suck your clit relentlessly. Your orgasm rips through you with a force that leaves you breathless. Your walls clamp around his fingers as your body arches off the rug, your cries filling the room as the pleasure pulses through every inch of you. Sylus doesn’t stop, prolonging your high as his tongue and fingers coax every last tremor of pleasure from your body until you’re trembling, gasping his name in broken, desperate whines.

Finally, he slows, withdrawing his fingers and pressing one last lingering kiss to your oversensitive clit, his lips curling into a smug smile as he looks up at you, his chin glistening with your release.

"My beautiful girl," he whispers, as he kisses the inside of your thigh one last time before sitting up. "All mine."

He takes off his pajama shirt, and in one fluid motion, he pulls off his pajama bottoms, leaving him completely bare. Your breath hitches at the sight of him, his cock thick, long, and hard. His eyes lock onto yours as he leans down, positioning himself between your legs. You gasp softly as the tip of his cock glides through your folds, his length sliding back and forth, coating himself in your mixed fluids. The sensation alone has you trembling, your legs instinctively parting wider for him.

Then, slowly, he presses against your entrance, the thick head of his cock stretching you as he begins to slide in, his eyes locked on you as your body takes in every inch. When he bottoms out, he pauses, his hips flush against yours, his cock buried deep. The sensation of being so completely filled sends waves of pleasure radiating through your body, leaving you gasping. His weight shifts as he lowers himself onto his elbows, bringing your bodies closer, his chest brushing against yours. He captures your lips in a slow kiss, making your head spin. His hips start to move, rolling against you in a languid rhythm drawing soft moans from you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing to feel more of him, your heels digging into his lower back. Your hands slide up to his shoulders, your fingers pressing into the taut muscles as he moves. His cock drags against your walls with each thrust, hitting spots that leave you gasping into his mouth. He swallows every sound, his kiss growing more feverent, his breath ragged as his body molds against yours. His hips grind against yours, his cock pressing deeper, harder, as you cling to him, your nails digging into his back.

Sylus’ pace begins to slow, his hips rolling more languidly as his lips break from yours.

“I need you closer.” he murmurs.

Without waiting for a response, he shifts his weight, one arm wrapping securely around your waist as he leans to the side, taking you with him. You gasp softly as your bodies roll together, your legs untangling briefly before one of his slips between yours.

Now on your sides, your bodies are pressed together so tightly you can feel his heartbeat. His arm stays snug around your waist, pulling you even closer, while his other hand cradles the back of your head. Your chest presses against his, and your hands rest against him, one lightly squished between your bodies. The other moves instinctively to his neck, your fingertips feeling his warmth, his pulse. Your leg hooks over his hip instinctively, granting him better access as his hips begin to move again.

The new angle makes you moan, his cock hitting even deeper, the angle forcing you to take all of him, and you clutch at his neck, your nails grazing his skin.

"My love." he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple as you press your face into his chest, overwhelmed by the closeness, the way he holds you like you’re the most precious thing in his world.

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, your lips parting slightly. His eyes burn into yours, before his mouth captures yours in a deep, hungry kiss. The base of his cock presses perfectly against your clit with each thrust, the friction sending sparks of heat shooting through you. You’re helpless against the pleasure building inside, your breaths ragged and broken as his rhythm pushes you closer to the edge.

His hand on your back tightens, pulling you flush against him, the slick grind of his pelvis teasing that swollen, aching bud mercilessly. You arch into him, your nails digging into the hard muscle of his chest, and your gasps turn into needy, breathless cries.

“Just like that,” he rasps, his eyes stay locked on your face, devouring every flicker of pleasure that twists across your features. "Let me see you fall apart for me."

The way his cock fills you, stretching you with every roll of his hips, combined with the perfect pressure against your clit, is too much. Your body coils tighter, your thighs trembling where they’re hooked around his waist.

“Sylus…” you whimper, your voice trembling.

“Come for me,” he growls, one still cradling your head, the other pressing your back to him like he can’t stand even a breath of distance between you.

The tension inside you snaps, your body locks tight, your walls squeezing his cock with desperate intensity, milking him as a guttural moan escapes his throat. He thrusts into you harder, deeper, grinding his pelvis against your swollen clit, wringing every last pulse of pleasure from your throbbing pussy. Your cries fill the room, your entire body trembling in his arms. Sylus holds you through it all, his movements never faltering, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you as you ride out your high.

"That’s it." he murmurs tenderly, his gaze never leaving your face, memorizing the way you look in this moment—completely undone, completely his.

But he doesn’t stop - his hips keep rolling into you, his cock dragging against the oversensitive walls of your pussy, the friction is almost too much.

"You feel so perfect," he groans, his voice vibrating through his chest where you’re pressed tightly against him.

Your legs tremble, locked tight around his waist, keeping him buried deep. Sylus’ thrusts turn frantic, slamming into you harder, rougher, the sound of wet, filthy friction filling the room. His cock twitches inside you, driving deeper with every thrust.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost broken, as your name falls from his lips. His hand cups your face, fingers trembling as they stroke your cheek, grounding himself in the haze of his need.

His movements stutter, his cock throbbing, and with a guttural growl, he pushes into you one last time, spilling hot and thick cum inside you. His hips twitch helplessly, every pulse of his release sending a shudder through his body. He clings to you, forehead pressed to yours, his breath ragged as he groans your name one last time.

His name escapes your lips in a soft, breathless moan, and he captures it in a searing kiss. The kiss slows as his movements still, the room filled with the sound of your mingled breathing and the faint crackle of the fire beside you. Sylus doesn’t pull away, his arms still wrapped around you, and you rest your head against his chest. His hands roam gently over your back and shoulders now, as if trying to soothe the tremble in your muscles. He kisses the top of your head before he pulls back just enough to look at you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his fingertips grazing your cheek with a featherlight touch.

You nod with a soft smile.

He leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that feels entirely different from before—his mouth moves tenderly, as though memorizing the curve of your lips, savoring the taste, the warmth you offer. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin, grounding you both. When he pulls back slightly, his forehead rests against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the stillness. His gaze, when it meets yours, is soft, filled with adoration. You could stay like this forever.

[xhoess]

Falling for the Star

Nicholas Alexander Chavez x reader

Summary: You meet actor Nicholas Alexander Chavez at a gala, sparking an intense romance. As passion builds, you navigate the challenges of his fame, facing public scrutiny and personal doubts. Through steamy moments and emotional struggles, you both fight for a love that’s worth the spotlight.

Wc: 10.7 K

Smut, fluff, drammaaaaaa

The moon hung low in the Los Angeles sky, a silver crescent illuminating the sprawling city below. The air buzzed with excitement and anticipation as you cautiously approached the entrance of the exclusive charity gala at a luxurious rooftop venue. The invitation had arrived with bright golden lettering, but in truth, you had almost turned it down. The mere thought of mingling with celebrities, the glitterati, and Hollywood’s elite had been overwhelming. Nevertheless, a gentle push from a close friend, coupled with a curiosity that ignited within you, led you to this moment.

As you stepped through the large glass doors, the atmosphere enveloped you like a warm embrace. The soft notes of a live jazz band floated through the air, a blend of elegance and vibrancy. Lush greenery adorned the venue, with fairy lights twinkling like stars overhead, and champagne glasses clinking gently as laughter erupted around you. You took a moment to appreciate your reflection in the mirrored walls, wearing a stunning emerald green dress that hugged your figure perfectly. It cascaded to just above your knees, with delicate lace details accentuating your collarbone, making you feel both empowered and graceful.

You scanned the room, your heart racing, when your eyes caught sight of him — Nicholas Alexander Chavez. He was standing across the room, effortlessly charming, with an easy smile that lit up the dimly lit space. His attire was flawless, a tailored navy suit that complemented his physique, making him look like he had stepped right off a magazine cover. His dark curls framed his face, and the spark in his eye held an undeniable allure. You felt an involuntary blush creep up your cheeks as your gaze lingered, making you acutely aware of how stunning he truly was.

Just as you thought you might have imagined the connection, Nicholas glanced in your direction. His gaze met yours, and an electric thrill surged through you, igniting a pulse of energy that felt both thrilling and terrifying. You quickly averted your eyes, pretending to study a nearby artwork, though you could feel his stare still lingering.

With a deep breath to steady your nerves, you decided to get a drink from the bar, hoping to calm the fluttering in your stomach. The bar was swarming with well-dressed attendees, all lost in their own animated conversations. You ordered a glass of sparkling wine, and just as you turned to survey the party, you bumped into a broad shoulder.

“Whoa there,” came a deep voice, smooth as velvet.

You looked up, instantly recognizing the familiar face. Nicholas was standing right in front of you, a playful grin on his lips that made your heart skip a beat. “Looks like you’ve fallen for me already,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You tried to keep your composure, laughing nervously as you brushed your hair back. “Well, I might be a clumsy drinker,” you shot back, a lightness in your tone that surprised even you.

“The drinks aren’t the only thing that sparkles here,” he replied, his gaze simmering with an intensity that made your cheeks flush. “I’m Nicholas, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, leaning closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you. “What brings you to this shindig? I’m sure you could have found somewhere more exciting to spend your evening.”

You chuckled, feeling more at ease. “Believe it or not, I was contemplating staying home and binge-watching my favorite series. But the charity cause pulled me in—along with the chance to dress up a little, I suppose.”

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “And what’s your favorite show?”

Do you really want to know? It’s quite embarrassing,” you replied, a sheepish grin spreading across your face.

“Embarrassing? Nah, I want to hear it,” he insisted, his playful demeanor captivating you further.

The conversation flowed easily from there, a delightful exchange filled with laughter and banter. It was clear that he was down-to-earth, someone who didn’t take himself too seriously despite his rising stardom. He listened intently, leaning against the bar with relaxed confidence that made you feel at ease.

As the night progressed, you found yourselves inching closer, the chemistry undeniable. With every stolen glance and shared laughter, the space between you seemed to shrink. Everything else faded away. Just as you felt the urge to lean in, the crowded bar suddenly erupted into laughter, startling you back to reality.

Nicholas chuckled, his gaze holding yours captive. “Looks like we’re commandeered. How about I steal you away for a moment before we get swallowed by the masses?”

“Lead the way,” you said, your heart racing as he gestured toward a quieter section of the venue.

Working through the sea of guests, you found a reprieve on a balcony that overlooked the stunning LA skyline. The city lights glimmered like a cascade of stars, and for a moment, it felt as if you were both the only two people in the world. The evening breeze danced around you, carrying the sweet scent of blooming jasmine from nearby plants.

Nicholas leaned against the railing beside you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You know," he said softly, the music from inside blending into the background, "I’m glad you came tonight. You have this energy about you, something refreshing."

our heart fluttered at his words, the sincerity in his tone leaving a weight on your chest. “And I’m glad I bumped into you. I didn’t expect to meet someone like you tonight.”

Just then, the moment felt charged, his gaze intent as he held you captive. You could sense the potential for something deeper, something more than just a fleeting encounter at a glamorous gala. But before you could react, a friend called out for Nicholas, interrupting the silence that had built around the two of you.

With a reluctant smile, he turned back to you. “I have to go, but I hope we can pick up where we left off.”

Me too,” you replied, biting your lip, hoping it spoke volumes about what you felt.

He flashed that dazzling smile again. “Here’s my number. Call me. Let’s not let the night end like this, okay?”

You took the slip of paper, your fingers brushing against his as you felt a shiver of delight at the contact. “I definitely will,” you promised, watching as he faded back into the crowd, leaving you breathless and craving more.

The gala had been a whirlwind of elegance, laughter, and glittering lights. You had spent the evening swirling through rooms filled with celebrities, each moment feeling like a scene from a movie. But the real magic began when Nicholas Alexander Chavez approached you during the afterparty, his charming smile effortlessly stealing your breath away. Now, you found yourself on the rooftop of a trendy Los Angeles venue, the city sparkling below as the cool night air wrapped around you.

Nicholas's deep voice carried a playful tone as he arched a brow, “So, did you come here to dazzle everyone with your beauty, or is there a hidden talent I should know about?”

You chuckled, leaning back against the railing, your fingers brushing his casually. “Dazzling was the aim, but I didn’t expect to run into anyone like you tonight.”

The atmosphere was charged; the intimacy of the rooftop—complete with twinkling fairy lights strung overhead—set the perfect backdrop for your budding connection. Below, L.A. hummed with life, yet up here it was just you and him, everything else fading away.

“Tell me more. What’s it like being a dazzling star in your own right?” he asked, running a hand through his dark hair, drawing your attention to the way the moonlight caught the angles of his jaw.

What can I say? I’m just a regular person who got lucky,” you replied, trying to infuse some levity into the conversation even though your heart raced in his presence. “By day, I’m probably just a boring desk jockey, but at night…” you trailed off teasingly, “I become the queen of charity events.”

His laugh was warm, infectious. “A queen, huh? I’ve always wanted to meet royalty.” He leaned in closer, the scent of his cologne—a mix of cedarwood and something distinctly him—invading your senses. Living in a dream, you felt that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t break.

“I’m not sure how much royalty I am,” you said, feeling daring. “But I do know how to throw a fantastic ball.”

“Care to demonstrate sometime?" he winked, but then his smile softened. “I think it’s important for people to see beyond the lights and glitz. That’s what I try to show in my work too. There’s more to me than what’s at surface level.”

You considered his words, your gaze locked on the sincerity reflected in his eyes. “What do you want them to see?”

Nicholas ran a hand along the back of his neck, a habit you found endearing as he looked for the right words. “That I’m just… well, I’m just trying to figure it all out like everyone else. Being in the spotlight can make things so complicated.”

I can only imagine,” you murmured, absorbing the weight of his confession. It felt nice to know he shared this vulnerability, drawing you closer to him. The edges of the conversation had shifted, moving from playful banter to something deeper.

As he spoke, his hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through you. Time slowed as you both lingered over the lightest of touches, an entire world of unspoken words swirling around you.

Do you think the stars are what they seem?” he mused, his voice lowering as he locked eyes with you. “Or just another layer of a persona?”

Sometimes they seem so perfect,” you replied, barely above a whisper. “But underneath, they’re human too.”

Nicholas smiled, and in that moment, the air felt thick with expectation. He leaned closer, and you could almost taste the warmth radiating between you. The moment elongated, both of you dancing around your desire, a symphony of unfulfilled tension hovering just inches apart.

Then, the serene bubble popped with a shout from below; a group of fellow gala attendees had spilled onto the rooftop, laughter spilling and echoing into the night. The connection between you and Nicholas fractured. He stepped back, breaking the moment like glass shattering on concrete.

“Maybe we should join the party,” he suggested, though you could hear the hint of disappointment in his tone.

“Yeah, let’s not keep the others waiting,” you said, your own heart sinking at the missed opportunity.

But as you both made your way back downstairs, the chemistry lingered electric in the air, weaving around you like a warm embrace. Nicholas walked close; he brushed against you, and goosebumps raced down your arms. You caught fleeting whispers from the crowd as you rejoined—words of admiration and intrigue—as if the guests could sense the bubble of tension that encapsulated you both.

Each glance exchanged with Nicholas sparked further anticipation. You could feel his gaze on you, a warmth that made your cheeks flush. As the evening progressed, small moments of contact sent your heart racing. The lightest brush of his fingers on your back as you maneuvered through the crowd made your breath hitch.

Finally, the night reached its peak, and you found yourself standing at the edge of the rooftop once more, feeling slightly more at ease and anxious all at once. “Thank you for tonight; it was… amazing,” you said, leaning against the railing.

Nicholas turned to you, a soft smile curving his lips. “I had a great time too. But I have a feeling this is just the beginning, isn’t it?”

His voice held a promise that sent butterflies dancing in your stomach. “I hope so,” you replied, allowing a shy smile to break through your facade.

“I’d like to take you on a proper adventure,” he said, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “How about we escalate this?”

“Esclare? I’m intrigued.” You crossed your arms, wanting to feign nonchalance but failing miserably.

Tomorrow. Just you, me, and no distractions,” he proposed, excitement bubbling within you at the thought. This was more than just flirting; you could sense things moving to another level.

You could hardly find the words. “I’d like that.”

With a grin that lit up his face, he nodded. The tension hanging in the air was undeniable, and you felt it wrap around you like a heavy blanket woven from the threads of your growing connection. As he leaned close, just hovering as if weighing the options, the world faded into nothingness.

And just then, in that brief moment, everything felt just right. Because in this vast city of stars, you had found one that was distinctly Nicholas, and you were ready to explore wherever the night—or your blossoming relationship—might lead you next.

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue across your room as you stood in front of the mirror, scrutinizing your reflection. Tonight was more than just another evening. This was a date. A date with Nicholas Alexander Chavez, the charming actor who had stolen your attention—and heart—at the charity gala just days ago. You felt a delicious blend of nerves and excitement bubbling within you, urging you to make the right choice. After rummaging through your closet, you finally settled on a sleek, midnight blue dress. It hugged your curves just right, striking a perfect balance between elegant and alluring. The fabric shimmered slightly under the light, mirroring the glint of anticipation in your eyes.

As you finished your look with a swipe of lipstick and a hint of perfume, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of what was to come. Nicholas was not only stunningly handsome but also had a down-to-earth charm that made your heart race. You picked up your phone, your fingers trembling as you checked the time. You were supposed to meet him at a secluded restaurant hidden away from the prying eyes of the paparazzi, a secret oasis in the bustling city.

The short drive to the restaurant was a whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind. What would you talk about? Would he lean in closer like he did at the gala? Would you have chemistry over dinner? The mere thought made your heart flutter, and you could feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

The restaurant was everything you could have imagined and more. Nestled on a quiet street, adorned with twinkling lights and soft music, it had an intimate atmosphere that instantly set your nerves at ease. As you walked in, you spotted Nicholas seated at a small table in the corner, his dark hair tousled just right, wearing a casual yet stylish outfit that emphasized his toned physique. He looked up and met your gaze, his smile lighting up the space around him, and suddenly, all the anxious thoughts melted away.

“Hey, you look incredible,” he said, standing to pull out the chair for you.

“Thank you! You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, your voice playful, but your heart raced at the closeness of him.

As you settled into your seat, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You spoke about the gala, sharing laughs over the awkwardness of celebrity encounters, and Nicholas shared funny behind-the-scenes stories from the show. There was an undeniable chemistry, a palpable tension that lingered in the air between you. You couldn’t help but lean in a little closer, wanting to soak in every detail of his expressions and the slight huskiness of his voice when he laughed.

The waiter appeared, taking your orders, but your focus remained on Nicholas, who effortlessly carried the conversation. He spoke of his childhood dreams, his journey into acting, and his love for the craft. “I never thought I’d end up here,” he admitted, his eyes twinkling with a mix of pride and humility. “It’s surreal, to say the least.”

“I can’t imagine how challenging it must be,” you said, genuinely admiring his dedication. “But I’m glad you’re here. You’re incredibly talented.”

The way his eyes softened at your words made your heart skip a beat. “I appreciate that. It means a lot coming from someone like you,” he replied, his gaze lingering on you, making the room seem smaller, just the two of you in your own world.

As dinner progressed, the food became secondary to the moments that were passing between you—slight touches when handing over his plate, the warmth of his gaze locking onto yours. Each shared smile felt like a silent promise, and you found yourself leaning in as if drawn by an invisible string. There was an undercurrent of desire, thick and tangible, yet neither of you was willing to break the spell just yet.

After the main course, you shared a decadent dessert—a rich chocolate lava cake—playfully feeding each other bites as laughter echoed softly around you. The sweet treat punctuated the sweetness blooming between you. The laughter faded into a comfortable silence, and in that moment, the world outside ceased to exist.

Nicholas studied you, his expression serious yet softening the longer he watched. “Can I ask you something?” he said, his tone turning unexpectedly sincere.

“Of course,” you replied, your throat dry with anticipation.

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “What do you want in life? Beyond what you do, beyond this moment?”

Your heart raced as you stared into his deep brown eyes, sensing the authenticity of his question. “I want to experience life fully. I crave adventure, connection, and authenticity—like what I feel right now.” You held his gaze, feeling exposed yet free.

“And do you feel that with me?” he asked, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

You bit your lip, nodding slightly. The air thickened with unspoken words, and as you opened your mouth to respond, your heart pounded in anticipation of his next move.

Just then, the waiter returned with the check, ruining the moment as you both leaned back, the tension momentarily shattered. After settling the bill, you found yourselves back on the sidewalk, the crisp night air washing over you as you walked under the stars.

Nicholas slowed his pace, walking closely beside you, the hum of the city fading into the background. As you approached your doorstep, the atmosphere became charged with unspoken possibilities. He turned to you, his gaze deep and sincere. “I had an amazing time tonight,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting into that smile that made your heart flutter.

“Me too,” you replied, trying to contain your excitement.

With the height of tension building, he stepped closer, your body instinctively responding to his proximity. His hand brushed against your arm, sending tingles through your skin. Time seemed to freeze, and you both leaned in, breaths mingling, hearts racing.

But then, a car passed by, its headlights illuminating the moment, reminding you both of the world outside. He didn’t pull away, but rather hesitated, drawn to you yet respecting the moment. “Can I…?” he began, stepping even closer, leaning in as though daring to close the distance between your lips.

“Please…” you whispered, your heart hammering against your chest, wanting nothing more than to feel the warmth of his kiss.

But then, he pulled back slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I think I’ll save that for next time,” he said with a smirk, leaving you both breathless and wanting more, the promise of what was to come hanging in the air like the sweetest poison.

As you both stood there, the connection cemented, deepened yet oh-so tantalizingly just out of reach. You knew that this was only the beginning of a whirlwind romance that neither of you could resist.

The days after your last date with Nicholas were an intoxicating mix of anxious anticipation and exhilarating daydreams. He had called you the very next day, his voice smooth and inviting, as if the warmth of the previous night had never really faded. You felt the thrill of those moments linger in your veins, and every text he sent only stoked the flames of your imagination. It was with a flutter of nervous excitement that you prepared for this evening—a dinner at his cozy apartment.

Standing in front of your mirror, you ran a hand through your hair, taking in the reflection of your carefully chosen outfit. You had settled on a flowy, olive-green dress that hugged your curves just enough to leave an impression while still retaining an air of elegance. The fabric floated around your legs as you moved, and you decided on a pair of simple yet chic heels that accentuated the subtle tone in your skin. A touch of makeup polished your look, enhancing your features without overshadowing your natural beauty.

As you stepped out of your apartment, the evening sun cast a golden glow over the city. It seemed to mirror the excitement building within you for tonight. Each heartbeat was a reminder of what might lay ahead—a chance to get to know Nicholas in a way that was private and personal.

Nicholas' place was tucked away in a quieter part of Los Angeles, the streets lined with palm trees that swayed gently in the evening breeze. When you reached the front door, he opened it with a smile that lit up his whole face, making your heart skip. He was wearing a soft gray sweater that clung to his frame and fitted jeans, effortlessly stylish yet comfortably laid back. “You look stunning,” he said, his eyes dancing over your figure.

“Thanks! You clean up pretty well yourself,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

He ushered you inside, and it was exactly as you had imagined—stylish yet inviting, decorated in a way that felt uniquely him. The living room was warmed by soft lighting, highlighting the modern artwork that adorned the walls. A fluffy beige couch faced a modest kitchen where the smell of garlic sautéing filled the air. Nicholas grinned cheekily. “I hope you like Italian. I may have gone a little overboard with the pasta.”

You laughed, feeling instantly at ease. “I’m not complaining. It smells amazing!”

As he led you into the kitchen, the playful vibe between you flared like a spark. You slipped off your heels, enjoying the coolness of the wooden floor beneath your feet. “Let’s get to work, shall we?” he said, reaching for a bottle of wine.

“Wine first?” you teased.

“Only if you promise to help me cook,” he shot back, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You accepted a glass, savoring the way his fingers brushed against yours as he handed it to you; the simple gesture sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your body. As you both prepared dinner together, Nicholas cracked jokes about his culinary skills—claiming he was still trying to impress his mother—and you returned his playful banter, playfully questioning his choice of ingredients.

“Is this how you charm all the ladies?” you asked with a smirk as he accidentally spilled a pinch of salt into the sauce.

“Only the ones who can keep up,” he replied, winking at you, his gaze lingering just a second longer than necessary on your lips.

You could feel the warmth pooling inside you, a thrilling mix of nerves and intrigue. Raising an eyebrow, you leaned closer, close enough to catch the scent of his cologne mingling with the aromatic fumes wafting from the stove. “A challenge, huh? I think I’m up for it.”

His hand found its way to your waist as he moved around you, the touch intentional yet innocently casual. The heat radiated from where he held you, and the atmosphere thickened with unspoken desires, tension carved from every shared glance.

Dinner was a success—delicious and slightly chaotic, filled with laughter and lively conversation. Afterward, you both settled on the couch, the remnants of the meal cleared away. A bottle of wine was uncorked, and as the rich liquid flowed into your glasses, so too did the deeper conversations about life, ambition, and art. You shared pieces of yourself, opening up in a way that felt natural and liberating.

Nicholas listened intently, his focus unwavering, his eyes piercing through the dim light in the room. He shared stories from his childhood, the ups and downs of navigating fame, and the pressures that came with it. Each story unveiled another layer of the man you were growing to admire—not just his on-screen charm but the authenticity that lay beneath.

As the night wore on, the conversation took a flirtatious turn, lingering touches transitioning into palpable tension. The air was thick with anticipation, the quiet intensity building like a crescendo in a symphony. You could feel the magnetic pull between you, every brush of his hand against yours awakening a fire deep within.

In a moment that seemed suspended in time, he looked at you intently, a thousand emotions swirling in his gaze. “You have no idea how captivating you are,” he said softly, his voice low and husky.

Your heart raced, and you could barely find your voice. “And you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” you replied, your heartbeat hammering wildly in your chest.

Just as the tension reached its peak, it snapped, and before you could register what was happening, his lips were on yours, urgent and filled with the emotions that had been bubbling beneath the surface. The kiss was electric, igniting every nerve in your body. His hands cradled your face as if you were the most precious thing in the world, and you melted into him, shared moment of longing finding its release.

Your heart raced, and you could barely find your voice. "And you have no idea what you’re doing to me," you replied, your heartbeat hammering wildly in your chest. Just as the tension reached its peak, it snapped, and before you could register what was happening, his lips were on yours, urgent and filled with the emotions that had been bubbling beneath the surface. The kiss was electric, igniting every nerve in your body. His hands cradled your face as if you were the most precious thing in the world, and you melted into him, every shared moment of longing finding its release.

His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses. You gasped as his teeth gently nipped at your earlobe, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "You're so responsive," he murmured, his voice laced with desire. "I love how you react to my touch."

You pulled him closer, your hands exploring the hard muscles of his back. "I want more," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Nicholas smiled, his eyes dark with lust. "I thought you'd never ask," he said, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt.

He lifted your shirt over your head, his eyes taking in every inch of your body. You stood there, vulnerable and exposed, yet feeling more confident than ever. His hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing against your nipples, making them harden instantly. You moaned, arching your back to press yourself against him.

Nicholas's mouth found your nipple, his tongue swirling around it before he took it into his mouth, sucking and nipping gently. You cried out, your hands tangled in his hair, holding him in place. He moved to your other breast, giving it the same attention, making you squirm with pleasure.

His hands moved down your body, tracing the curve of your hips before slipping under the waistband of your skirt. You gasped as his fingers found your clit, rubbing it gently through your panties. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "I can't wait to taste you."

He slid your panties down your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. You stepped out of them, standing before him completely naked. Nicholas knelt down, his hands on your thighs, spreading them apart. You braced yourself against the wall as his mouth found your pussy, his tongue licking you from your opening to your clit.

You moaned, your hips bucking against his face. Nicholas gripped your thighs tighter, holding you in place as he continued to lick and suck you. His fingers found their way inside you, pumping in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue. "You taste so good," he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin.

You could feel your orgasm building, your body tensing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. "I'm close," you gasped, your hands clutching his hair. Nicholas looked up at you, his eyes filled with desire. "Come for me," he said, his voice commanding. And with that, you did, your body convulsing as your orgasm ripped through you.

Nicholas stood up, his lips covered in your juices. You pulled him into a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. "I want you inside me," you whispered against his mouth. He smiled, his cock hard and ready against your stomach. "I want that too," he said, his voice filled with lust.

Taste yourself on him, the taste of your desire and pleasure. He laid down next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close.

As your bodies cooled down, Nicholas whispered in your ear, "That was incredible." You smiled, your body still humming with pleasure. "It was," you agreed, your voice soft. Nicholas kissed your shoulder, his hand tracing lazy circles on your stomach.

The sun hung in the sky like a lazy star, casting golden rays on the bustling streets of Los Angeles. The city had a certain energy at noon—a buzz of laughter, chatter, and music that thrummed in the background as you and Nicholas made your way to a quaint café. You felt the familiar flutter in your stomach every time you laid eyes on him, this charming man who had flipped your world upside down since that fateful gala.

He was effortlessly stylish in a light denim jacket over a fitted t-shirt, his hair slightly tousled as though he’d just rolled out of bed. You, on the other hand, wore your confidence like your favorite dress; a royal blue sundress that swayed lightly with every step. The perfect dress for a casual afternoon felt like it had a purpose—to catch his eye, and today, it worked.

As you approached the entrance, Nicholas waved to a couple of fans who recognized him. They squealed in delight, their phones snapping pictures. A small smile played on his lips, but you could see the flicker of discomfort in his eyes. This was one of those moments when the reality of celebrity life hit hard.

You exchanged glances, your heart racing irrationally as he opened the door for you. “After you,” he grinned, revealing that perfectly straight line of teeth. Entering the café felt familiar and safe—a hidden gem filled with small wooden tables, rustic decor, and soft background music. As you settled in, the sunlight kissed your foreheads, creating a cozy atmosphere.

“So, are you ready for your first official sighting as my girlfriend?” Nicholas teased, leaning back in his chair, his arms casually resting against the wooden surface of the table.

Your cheeks flushed at that label—girlfriend. It was surreal how quickly everything had escalated since that magical charity gala. "I’m not sure I’m ready for the spotlight yet,” you replied cautiously, stirring your iced coffee with a straw, trying to mask the nervous excitement rising within you.

Nicholas leaned forward, his hair falling slightly into his eyes as he spoke softly, “You don’t have to be. I’ll protect you from the madness, I promise.” His intensity sent a jolt through you, an understanding of why you’d been drawn to this enigmatic man in the first place. There was sincerity in his voice like you were the only two people in the world at that moment.

You suddenly felt exposed in the café filled with fellow patrons, but the air between you shifted as he reached across the table and brushed his fingers lightly over your hand, a gesture so innocent yet electrifying. You fought to maintain composure; it was as if the world outside had faded away, leaving just the two of you drowning in each other’s gaze.

You laughed softly, attempting to lighten the mood. “What happens if we get caught in the act, huh? A scandalous photo of Nicholas Alexander Chavez holding hands with ‘mysterious girl’? That'll definitely pique the tabloids’ interest.”

His laughter echoed your own, bright and genuine. “Right? They’d paint me out to be a heartthrob dating a ‘nobody’—the things they’ll come up with!” He mirrored your playful tone, clearly enjoying the idea.

Just then, the bell above the café door jingled, and a few patrons turned their heads to you. You pressed your lips together, not wanting to draw attention but unable to hide your reaction. You required a steady heartbeat, but somehow, being out with him felt exhilarating, like you were both part of a bit of magical fiction.

After placing your order, you focused on light conversation, sharing stories of your work and traveling. But as you delved deeper, the atmosphere began to shift. You spoke of dreams and ambitions, and he listened with such intent that the heat between you grew palpable. It was as if you were no longer just a fan but two souls connecting, sharing experiences that transcended the celebrity facade.

“So, what’s your greatest dream?” he asked suddenly, his gaze unwavering, making you feel like the center of his universe.

“I suppose I want to create something…” you said hesitantly. “Something that resonates with people, like a book or a novel that could help someone out there feel less alone.” You bit your lip, unsure whether your vulnerability would push him away.

A smile of encouragement spread across Nicholas's features. “I love that. You have such a kind heart, wanting to uplift others. But I have to admit, I always thought your first dream would be to become an actress.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, that’s definitely not my path. I’ll leave the acting to you.”

“But you’d be fantastic—give it a try!” His enthusiasm shifted the conversation’s tone.

At that moment, your eyes locked, and the world around you faded again. His compliment lingered. In a cacophony of noise, it felt serene, amplifying the longing and tenderness brewing in the air.

As you finished lunch, Nicholas paid the bill, but before you could rise, he leaned in closer, whispering, “Want to take a walk? I think we could enjoy this beautiful weather.”

You nodded, heart racing as the waiter smiled knowingly at you both. The walk turned into a leisurely stroll down the picturesque street, but the quiet chatter and laughter from other customers filled the air. As couples passed, holding hands and giggling, doubt crept in. Would you fit into his world? Did you belong in a love story where the media followed every footstep?

Suddenly, someone shouted, “Nicholas!” from behind. You turned to see a group of people snapping photos and shouting questions.

Nicholas held your hand tighter, his protective instincts kicking in as he led you away, heart pounding. “Don’t worry; I won’t let them overwhelm you,” he reassured you, leading you down a quieter alleyway.

“Hiding from the paparazzi already?” you teased, the wild energy of the afternoon igniting a playful spark.

“I think for now, it’s better to avoid the spotlight… but I promise we’ll get used to it together.” He winked, the cheeky grin returning to his face.

Just then, you felt it—his fingers brushing lightly against yours as you navigated the narrow space between two buildings, the electricity crackling and their connections sparking:

His eyes met yours, the air growing thick with unexpressed emotions and unspoken promises. It was a moment that reminded you there was still magic in the world.

As you turned, you collided against him, leaning into his warmth, your pulse racing. “You’ll keep me safe, right?” you murmured, inviting vulnerability.

“Always,” he whispered, leaning ever closer, tantalizingly close yet challenging the rules of what was appropriate.

And in that sanctuary away from prying eyes and flashing cameras, you both indulged in the escalating tension, knowing the path ahead lay somewhere between public dreams and private desires. You were ready to embrace it.

The early morning sun poured through your window, casting a warm glow across your room. The excitement bubbling in your stomach was contagious, filling your thoughts as you prepared for a weekend that promised to be life-changing. Nicholas had invited you to a secluded beach house for a romantic getaway, a break from the intensities of the public eye and the constant buzz of Los Angeles. This was your chance to explore what had been building between you, surrounded by soft sand and the gentle sounds of the waves.

You slipped into a light sundress, the fabric flowing gracefully around your legs as you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The vibrant colors highlighted your features, and you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. Today wasn’t just another day; it was the beginning of an escape, a chance to relax and truly be yourself around Nicholas.

Arriving at the meeting point, you spotted Nicholas standing by his car, his face lit up with that captivating smile that made your heart race. He wore a casual ensemble: fitted jeans and a simple white T-shirt, yet he looked effortlessly handsome. As you approached, he greeted you with a warm hug, and a rush of butterflies fluttered through your stomach at the contact.

“Ready for the best weekend of your life?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

You nodded, unable to form words. Instead, you climbed into the passenger seat, unable to suppress a grin as he slipped into the driver’s seat beside you. The car hummed to life, and with a quick glance your way, he put on a playlist of lighthearted tunes, instantly setting a cheerful tone for the road trip ahead.

As you pulled away from the city, the congested streets gave way to open roads flanked by tall trees and endless skies. You chatted about everything and nothing, laughter spilling easily between you—stories about childhood, your favorite places, dreams you hadn’t shared with anyone before. With each passing mile, your connection deepened, growing from a spark to a flame.

“Do you ever get used to the whole celebrity thing?” you asked, curiosity guiding your question.

Nicholas chuckled softly, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. “Honestly? Sometimes it feels like a double life. The lights and glamour, yes, but then there’s just normal me, you know? I love moments like this—away from it all."

His candidness made you smile. “I can only imagine. What do you do to escape?”

He glanced at you, a playful glint in his eye. “I’m a pro at finding cozy little spots. But nothing quite like this weekend—with you, everything feels just right.”

The complimentary exchange of your thoughts flowed effortlessly, a gentle rhythm establishing between you both. Just as the sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you arrived at the beach house, a charming retreat nestled on the shore. The scents of salt and sea breeze welcomed you as you stepped out of the car.

“Welcome to paradise,” he declared theatrically, throwing his arms wide to encompass the view. The house was stunning, with large windows that framed views of the ocean, its soft roar beckoning you forward.

You took in the surroundings, feeling the magic of the setting. It was everything you’d dreamed of for a special weekend. Inside, the decor was warm and inviting, a mixture of coastal charm and modern amenities. Nicholas stepped over to the kitchen, a place where the evening’s culinary adventure would soon unfold

kitchen, a place where the evening’s culinary adventure would soon unfold.

“Any requests for dinner?” he asked, already pulling out pots and pans as if he had been preparing for this moment.

Your eyes lit up. “Surprise me! Just nothing too spicy—I’m not great with heat in my food,” you replied, good-naturedly teasing.

s he began preparing the meal, the kitchen transformed into a lively atmosphere. You took a content seat on the counter, watching him work. “You’re quite the chef,” you commented, impressed as he expertly diced vegetables, contrasting with the actor persona you had become accustomed to seeing on-screen.

“Oh, I dabble. Cooking is one of my favorite escapes. Want to help?”

He reached out, grabbing your hands and pulling you down to the floor, guiding you to stand beside him. The two of you continued the evening, creating delicious dishes and sharing flirtatious banter, his playful touches igniting electricity between you as he moved in close, his hands often resting on your waist or brushing your arms.

As the aromas of a delightful meal filled the air, the atmosphere gradually shifted. Dinner was served on the terrace, a beautiful candlelit setup overlooking the ocean. The flickering lights danced softly in the evening breeze, creating an intimate sanctuary away from the world.

With each bite, your conversation took on a deeper tone, revealing your hopes, dreams, and fears. Nicholas shared stories about his upbringing, moments that shaped him, and you reciprocated with your own stories, revealing layers of your life you rarely discussed. There was raw honesty in your exchanges, and the chemistry between you both became palpable.

Eventually, you transitioned from the terrace to the cozy living room, still wrapped in the warmth of each other’s company. A half-empty bottle of red wine sat on the coffee table, two glasses clinking softly as you filled them. Sparks of laughter and connection intertwined as you prepared to settle down.

Finally, as he leaned back against the couch, he turned toward you, a serious look replacing the lighthearted atmosphere. “Can I tell you something?” he asked, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

You nodded, curious.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. There’s something about you, something that pulls me in.”

Your heart raced, the raw honesty of his admission echoing loudly in the stillness of the room. You shifted closer, his gaze intoxicating.

“Me too, Nicholas,” you whispered back, your pulse quickening.

In that charged moment, the world melted away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time. Nicholas leaned in, brushing a stray hair behind your ear with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. The tension between you escalated, magnetic and electric.

He paused, searching your eyes for permission. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and there was no denying the longing that sparked in the air.

Then, in an instant, all the teasing and banter that had built up between you both broke free. His lips met yours in a flurry of passion—soft, sweet, then deepening as he cupped your face in his hands. You melted against him, surrendering yourself to the intoxicating warmth of the moment. Yet, just when things began to escalate, you pulled away, breathless.

Time skip

It was one of those gloomy afternoons when the clouds hung low like a shroud over the bustling city. You had planned to spend the day curled up with a book and a cup of coffee, a comforting escape from the whirlwind of emotions that had become your life since dating Nicholas Alexander Chavez. However, as you scrolled through your phone, your relaxed intentions swiftly turned into a sensation of dread.

Your heart sank as you stumbled across the latest gossip blog, its headline screaming about Nicholas’s alleged romantic involvement with a co-star on set, someone whose name you recognized all too well. The article painted a scandalous picture, dripping with insinuation and wild conjecture. The infamous paparazzi photos were splashed across the screen, showing them laughing together: a moment that seemed innocent enough but was now twisted into a narrative that pricked at your insecurities.

hough you knew better than to believe everything you read, the fear gnawed at you. How could you ignore the whispers that echoed through your social media feed, fueled by both envy and intrigue? Your relationship with Nicholas had come with its share of challenges, but today felt particularly heavy.

You tossed your phone down, feeling the walls of your small apartment closing in. The truth was that the euphoria of dating a celebrity was fading, and the pressures were beginning to take a toll. You felt like a shadow of your former self, scared that the spotlight on him would ultimately burn you both.

Later that evening, you found yourself standing in the kitchen, the scent of spaghetti sauce filling the air, an attempt at normalcy. Just as you were about to plate up dinner, your phone buzzed on the table. It was a call from Nicholas, and your heart quickened.

“Hey,” you managed to say, feigning nonchalance.

“Hey, you! I just wrapped up for the day. How are you?” His voice was warm, inviting, grounding, despite the distance.

You took a deep breath and forced yourself to reply with enthusiasm, but the words caught in your throat. Silence stretched between you two as you contemplated how to broach the topic that loomed between you. Nicholas finally broke the silence, concern lacing his tone. “You there?”

“Yeah, just… saw something online.” You could hear the pitiful waver in your voice.

“What did you see?” He sounded wary, the weight of his career pressing down on both of you even over the phone.

You took another deep breath, knowing you had to be honest, yet fearing the repercussions. “The rumors about you and Jade …”

“Jade?” His voice instantly hardened, the warmth vanishing. “What rumors?”

You quickly explained the article, feeling more exposed with each word. You could almost feel him stiffen through the line as he processed the information. “That’s insane. It’s purely professional. We’re acting, Y/N! It’s work!”

“I know that,” you responded, a twinge of frustration creeping into your voice. “But everyone else doesn’t. I can’t— I don’t think I can handle this. All this scrutiny… it’s overwhelming.”

There was a heavy silence before he spoke again, his voice brimming with tension. “So you’re just going to believe what strangers think? I thought you knew me better than that.”

our heart raced as you protested, “It’s not that easy! You’re living in a different universe! I’m just… just trying to figure out if I fit into it.”

Are you saying you don’t want this?” His voice cracked, and you could feel the heat of the confrontation rising.

“I don’t know!” Tears pricked your eyes. “Maybe I’m just scared… scared that this isn’t real, that I’m just a passing thought for you.”

“Y/N, please—don’t say that.” His voice softened as if he could sense the fracture in your heart. “You’re not a passing thought. You’re everything to me. I’m just trying to keep everything balanced.”

“Is that really what this is about?” you asked, barely above a whisper. “Can you even make time for me with your crazy schedule?”

“I’m trying!” he snapped back, frustration spilling into the conversation. “Can’t you see I’m trying?”

The emotional storm swirling around you started to feel unbearable. “You’re not the only one who’s struggling, Nicholas. I love you, but I can’t keep fighting this war of doubts, not when every new headline feels like a dagger to the relationship we’ve built.”

His silence felt as heavy as the dense clouds outside. Finally, he sighed deeply. “I wish you could see how much I want this to work.”

Then show me,” you challenged, your voice trembling with vulnerability. “Show me how much I matter.”

A long pause hung in the air before he said, “I need you to trust me, Y/N. I’m all in—just give me the chance to prove it.”

The tension was palpable, a push and pull of raw emotions crashing in waves against the shore of your relationship. You both wanted to bridge the gap, but scarring doubts lingered like ghostly whispers, refusing to be easily banished.

“Alright,” you finally breathed, torn between belief and fear. “I’ll try.”

Good,” he replied softly, the warmth creeping back into his voice. “Just don’t shut me out, okay?”

“I won’t. I promise.” With that, you decided to let the conversation end for now. A bittersweet sense of hope flickered within you, but still, the tension lingered, unresolved, heavy between you like a storm waiting to break.

As night fell, you wrapped your arms around yourself, wishing for clarity. Your heart ached with uncertainty, leaving you to wonder if love could be enough to weather the darkest clouds. You just hoped that amidst the chaos, Nicholas would find a way to show you that your place in the storm was secure.

long shadows cast across your living room as you sat curled up on the couch, surrounded by a fortress of pillow cushions. The remnants of a half-eaten tub of your favorite ice cream lay abandoned beside you, and the TV buzzed in the background, but you couldn't concentrate on the screen. Your mind was tangled in knots, replaying everything that had happened in the last couple of weeks since that fateful argument with Nicholas.

He had stormed out after you accused him of being too wrapped up in his fame and his new co-star, Jade. You hadn't meant it to sound so harsh, but doubt had crept in, nurtured by the gossip blogs that twisted every picture of Nicholas and Jade into scandalous narratives. The backlash on social media was relentless, and it had hurt to see the way his fans celebrated every interaction with her. The moment had spiraled out of control, and you hadn’t seen him since.

Part of you had fought to suppress the nagging voice that whispered you were better off without him. But deep down, you knew that was a lie. Your heart ached with longing; the laughter you shared, the way his dark eyes sparkled when he told you stories from the set, and the intensity of the moments when it was just the two of you. It all felt like a dream slipping away and leaving nothing behind but confusion.

As you stared wistfully out of the window, a sudden vibration from your phone nearly startled you, pulling you from your reverie. Your heart raced as you picked it up. The screen lit up with Nicholas’s name, and for a moment, you hesitated. A part of you wanted to ignore it, to keep your distance and maintain the facade of being strong and self-sufficient. But the longing was almost unbearable, and you answered.

“Nicholas,” you breathed, your heart hammering against your ribcage.

Y/N,” he replied, his voice warm yet laced with an urgency that set you on fire. “Can we talk?”

“Yes,” you whispered, emotions swirling like a tempest inside you. His tone seemed both reassured and uncertain, a blend that made your stomach churn with anxiety. A few moments later, he announced, “I’m on my way.”

You nearly dropped the phone, panic intertwining with excitement in your chest. “Where? How?”

Just… meet me outside?” The call ended abruptly, leaving you both exhilarated and apprehensive. You sprang to your feet, the ice cream forgotten, rushing to compose yourself. You combed your fingers through your hair and replaced your sweatpants with a casual but flattering outfit. The wait felt like an eternity as you hovered near the window, glancing outside between drags of breaths.

Then you saw him, stepping out of an Uber, his familiar silhouette striking against the late afternoon sun. His hair tousled and a hint of stubble adorning his jawbone, he looked as if he had just walked out of a magazine cover—stunningly recognizable yet painfully human all at once. Your pulse quickened, a rush of love and anxiety engulfing you, surfacing just as he approached your door.

When you opened it, he stood there, his face a mixture of determination and vulnerability that tugged at your heartstrings. The moment hung heavy between you, neither of you quite ready to bridge the gap that had formed during your time apart.

“Can I come in?” he asked softly.

You nodded, stepping aside to allow him entry, and as you closed the door, a weight settled on your chest. He turned to face you, and in that instant, memories of laughter and shared moments flooded back, heavy with what you both had built amid the chaos of his celebrity life and escalating pressures.

Look,” Nicholas began, running a hand through his hair, a gesture you recognized as one of frustration. “I flew back from shooting just to talk to you. I needed to understand why…” He trailed off, searching for the right words.

“Why I doubted you?” you supplied, your voice catching in your throat. “Why I called out your relationship with Jade as something it wasn’t?”

Exactly.” He drew closer, his intensity drawing you into a whirlpool of emotions. “You have every right to feel insecure, and if I made you feel that way... I’m sorry. But I want you to know it’s always been you for me. The glimpses of my world you saw were never meant to keep you out. It was never just publicity for me. This…” He stepped back slightly, motioning between you two. “This is real.”

Tears stung your eyes at the sincerity of his words. “What about the rumors? People say…”

People say a lot of things. I let the noise drown out our silence. I thought I could handle it, but losing you... it’s the worst part of all this.” His voice smoldered beneath layers of vulnerability. “I’d give up everything if it meant keeping you close.”

You swallowed hard, the echoes of his confession wrapping around your heart. “But can we manage this? Can love withstand all the chaos surrounding you?”

He took a step closer, invading the space with his presence, his warm breath mingling with yours. “We can fight for it. The world can be loud, but I want every moment I can steal with you. The quiet parts. The messy ones. The fights when we disagree. All of it.”

He was close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, and for a moment, everything else faded—the doubts, the scrutiny, the world outside. It felt just like those stolen moments you had experienced before. “What if I can’t handle the spotlight?” you asked, your heart racing as you met his gaze.

Nicholas took your hand gently, brushing his thumb along your knuckles. “Then I’ll ensure you never have to face it alone. I’ll be there, holding your hand through every ordeal, every misunderstanding. We can figure this out together.”

His voice dropped to a husky whisper that made your heart flutter. The intensity between you was palpable, the distance collapsing into closeness until your lips were just inches apart. Your breath mingled with his as the weight of uncertainty melted into a spark of connection.

“I might need some convincing,” you teased lightly, searching for a way to ease the tension that had built. Nicholas grinned, and that boyish charm made your insides tingle.

"Then allow me." He closed the gap, capturing your lips with his, the kiss igniting everything you had been missing—desire and warmth swept over you like an all-consuming flame, melting away your fears. It was electric, each brush of his lips reminding you why you had fought so hard against doubt.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as his tongue teased your lips. You parted them, inviting him deeper, and he accepted the invitation with a hungry groan. His fingers trailed up your back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, before they tangled in your hair, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss.

You melted into him, your body pressing against his as your hands explored the contours of his chest. The feel of his muscles beneath your fingertips made you ache for more. You broke the kiss, gasping for breath, and he trailed soft kisses down your neck, making you shiver.

You taste amazing," he murmured, his voice laced with desire. "I could kiss you all night."

And I could let you," you whispered back, your voice barely audible over the music. "But I have a feeling there's more you want to do."

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that made you shiver. "You're right, I want to see you," he said, his voice rough with need. "Every inch of you."

You smiled, slowly unbuttoning your blouse as his eyes followed your every move. He reached out, helping you slip it off your shoulders, his fingers brushing against your skin and sending shivers down your spine.

You're gorgeous," he said, his voice barely a whisper as he traced the line of your bra with his fingertips. "And I want to taste every inch of you."

He leaned down, his lips claiming yours once more as his hands unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor. You gasped as his mouth found your nipple, his tongue circling the sensitive bud before taking it into his mouth. You arched against him, a moan escaping your lips as he sucked and teased, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and dip as he made his way down to your waistband. He unbuttoned your jeans, his fingers brushing against your skin as he slid them down your hips. You stepped out of them, standing before him in nothing but your panties.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire. "You're amazing," he said, his voice a low growl. "And I want to make you feel amazing."

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down until they joined your jeans on the floor. You stood before him, completely naked, as he took a moment to appreciate every inch of your body.

"You're perfect," he said, his voice a low murmur. "Absolutely perfect."

He led you to his bed, laying you down gently before joining you. His hands explored your body, his touch gentle yet firm as he traced the line of your thigh, his fingers brushing against your most intimate place. You gasped, your hips arching against his touch as he slipped a finger inside you, his thumb circling your clit.

You're so wet," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "So ready for me."

ou nodded, your breath coming in short gasps as he added another finger, his pace increasing as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the pleasure building, your body tensing as you teetered on the brink.

Come for me," he whispered, his voice a command as his thumb pressed against your clit. You cried out, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and trembling.

He kissed you gently, his fingers still inside you as he slowly pulled them out. You could feel the emptiness, the ache for more, and you knew that you wanted him inside you.

e rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him. You straddled him, his cock hard and ready against your entrance. You guided him inside, gasping as he filled you completely. You began to move, your hips rising and falling as you found your rhythm.

He gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he met your thrusts, his cock sliding in and out of you with a wet, slapping sound that filled the room. You could hear your own moans, the sound of your breath as it caught in your throat, the feel of his cock inside you sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

"Faster," you gasped, your body aching for more. "Harder."

He obliged, his hips thrusting upwards as he met your downward strokes, his cock slamming into you with a force that made you cry out. You could feel the pleasure building again, your body tensing as you rode him, your fingers gripping his shoulders for support.

Yes," you gasped, your body convulsing as another orgasm washed over you, leaving you breathless and shaking. You could feel him inside you, his cock pulsing as he found his own release, his body tensing as he came with a low groan.

You collapsed against him, your body slick with sweat as you struggled to catch your breath. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you both came down from the high.

"That was amazing," he said, his voice a low murmur as he kissed the top of your head. "Absolutely amazing."

You smiled, your body still tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. "It certainly Was"

Nicholas drew you closer, kissing you deeper, his hands weaving into your.

“Let’s not let anything come between us again,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours.

“I want that too,” you replied, the tension of unresolved issues still swirling in the air. But there was something vibrant, something alive in the way his gaze held yours.

Nicholas paused, his expression turning serious once more, “I’ll fight for you, Y/N. Always.”

_________

BYEEE LONGEST FIC EVER.. #needthat

Comments are much appreciate I love it 😋

[sushiyuzu]

干爹

- second acc: @blushpawss

sugardaddy!sylus takes you to a high-end boutique in the city. the staff greet him by name, treating him like a regular customer. he insists that you pick out whatever you like, and when you hesitate, he gently nudges you forward with a reassuring smile. you try on several outfits, and each time you come out of the fitting room, his eyes light up. he makes you feel like you’re the most beautiful person in the world. after you choose something, he pays without a second thought, holding your hand as you leave the store with shopping bags in tow.

sugardaddy!sylus surprises you with a reservation at one of the city’s most exclusive restaurants. the atmosphere is elegant, with soft lighting and expensive decor. he pulls out your chair before you can sit, treating you with such care. the menu has no prices listed, but he doesn’t even glance at it before ordering the best dishes for both of you. throughout dinner, he listens attentively, smiling at your stories while reaching across the table to hold your hand. the night feels magical, and you realize just how much he enjoys spoiling you.

sugardaddy!sylus invites you to spend the weekend at his private villa by the beach. the house is enormous, with high ceilings, a pool overlooking the ocean, and every room decorated with style and comfort in mind. you explore the villa together, and he leads you to the balcony where there’s a perfect view of the sunset. you sit together, wrapped in a warm blanket as the breeze brushes by, and he tells you about his favorite memories of the place, promising that he’ll make many more with you here.

sugardaddy!sylus surprises you with a beautifully wrapped box. inside is a piece of jewelry—something elegant and understated, yet incredibly precious. he explains that it’s not just expensive, but it has a deep meaning to him, maybe something that belonged to a rare item he found on his travels. he gently fastens the necklace or bracelet around your wrist, his fingers brushing against your skin. you can see the emotion in his eyes, and you know it’s not just about the money; it’s about what you mean to him.

sugardaddy!sylus wakes you up early one morning with a mischievous smile and tells you to pack a bag, hinting at a surprise. before you know it, you’re on his private jet, sipping a glass of juice while the plane soars above the clouds. he doesn’t reveal the destination until you’re almost there, teasing you the whole way. when you land, it’s a beautiful, remote island or a charming city you’ve always wanted to visit. he’s planned everything down to the smallest detail, and you can’t help but feel amazed by his thoughtfulness.

sugardaddy!sylus invites you to be his date at a high-society gala, where everyone is dressed in their finest. he sends a designer to your home with several elegant gowns, letting you choose the one you like the most. the night of the event, he picks you up in a sleek car, looking handsome in his tailored suit. as you arrive, all eyes are on you both, and he keeps you close, introducing you to important people. despite the grand setting, he makes sure you’re comfortable, always keeping you by his side, his arm around your waist.

sugardaddy!sylus arranges a private evening on his yacht, the boat anchored just off the coast. the deck is set up with soft cushions, fairy lights, and a candlelit dinner waiting for you. he steers the yacht himself, guiding it through calm waters under a sky full of stars. after dinner, he turns on soft music, and you dance together under the night sky, the gentle rocking of the boat adding to the moment. he pulls you close, his voice soft and gentle as he tells you how much he treasures nights like this with you.

sugardaddy!sylus wakes up in a soft, oversized bed in a beautiful hotel suite. the sunlight streams in through sheer curtains, and sylus is there, already awake, bringing you a tray of breakfast with fresh fruit, pastries, and your favorite drink. he’s wearing a robe, his hair slightly messy, looking relaxed and happy. you both enjoy breakfast in bed, laughing and talking without a care in the world. it’s a morning filled with gentle touches and quiet moments, the kind that you wish could last forever.

sugardaddy!sylus decides to treat you to a day at a high-end spa. the atmosphere is calm, with soft music and gentle scents in the air. you both enjoy a couple’s massage, side by side, feeling the stress melt away under the hands of expert masseuses. after that, there’s a private hot tub just for the two of you, with rose petals scattered on the surface. you lean back against him, the warm water soothing your body, and he whispers how happy he is to see you so relaxed.

sugardaddy!sylus takes you to a private cabin in the mountains for a winter getaway. the cabin is luxurious yet cozy, with a roaring fireplace and a view of snow-covered trees. one evening, a snowstorm hits, and you’re both stuck inside. sylus wraps you in a thick blanket, sitting by the fireplace with hot cocoa. you play a board game, talk, and watch the snow fall, feeling like the rest of the world is miles away.

[shadowdaddies]

Distraction

Azriel x Reader

A/N: I keep thinking about how this scene from Captain America: the Winter Soldier would fit so well for Azriel x reader on a spy mission

warnings: none

A knock on your door shook you from your daze, wide eyes alert in a prepared defense until you heard the familiar voice rumble lowly through the wooden doorway.

“Are you ready?” Azriel questioned, rough voice sending an unrecognizable thrill through you as you strode towards the door. Turning the handle, you looked up to see hazel eyes darkening as the striking Illyrian swallowed, gaze raking over your form in the fitted dress you’d donned for the evening.

“Ready, Az,” you nodded, allowing yourself the guilty pleasure of admiring your friend’s appearance. He was dressed in a fitted all-black ensemble, tailored to show his impressive physique and highlight his features. He looked like a Prince of Darkness as he stepped to the side, holding out an arm for you to take.

“You look very nice, Azriel,” you smiled, playfully nudging him with your shoulder as he led you down the hall to the grand ballroom. 

He stiffened slightly at your words, as though shocked by the compliment, before he turned to face you. “You look...” he paused, taking a deep breath when he stepped back to look at you. Something sparked in your chest when he spoke again. “You look beautiful.”

Nodding, you looked away in an attempt to hide your blush as well as Azriel had hidden his shadows for the evening. You were both undercover from the Night Court, attending this ball in Hybern to find information on potential traitors. 

Since the war was won, Prythian had absorbed the kingdom of Hybern, but many were still resistant to the ideals of the Continent. You were sent with Azriel to the new ruler of Hybern’s birthday celebration to gather intel, searching for those who might pose a threat to the High Lord and Lady’s restructured kingdom. 

With Azriel’s shadows, he would be quickly identified as the infamous shadowsinger of the Night Court, but with his shadows hidden and you by his side, you could blend in with the other fae relatively easily. 

Which is why you now carried your shimmering skirts, shoes clicking down the marble floored halls with Azriel on your arm. You had expected to be more nervous going into the event, but something about Azriel’s touch kept you grounded, feeling calmer than ever. 

Approaching the double doors that led to the grand ballroom, you nodded your appreciation to the guards who opened the doors for you both. Words escaped you at the beauty of the room before you, murals of fairies from old lining the walls along with gilded chandeliers and twinkling faelight. It was beautiful and romantic, a far cry from what you had imagined Hybern to be.

Feeling a tug on your arm, you looked up to see Azriel flashing you a knowing grin as he guided you towards a servant. Picking up two drinks from their tray, he murmured appreciation to them before handing you a glass. You half-expected him to say something about the beauty of the evening, but surprise didn’t find you with his words.

“Remember our story. Keep it vague and learn what you can tonight,” Azriel murmured, his warm hand rubbing affectionately on your waist at odds with his words. You nodded, remembering your role new mates as your role for the night, and that his touch meant nothing more.

Twining your fingers with his, you led Azriel to a couple who stood by the hearth, smiling as they both listened to the band play its lively tune. You chatted with them, learning the gossip about several royal families who did not approve of the new structure in Hybern. 

“Well done,” Azriel murmured, his lips warm against your knuckles as he pulled them, twirling you in a playful move across the dance floor closer to the next target for intel. 

You wished the giggle that escaped you was more effort than it was, but something about you was truly drawn to Azriel. He was gentle with you, but fiercely defensive of those he cared for. A skilled warrior and good friend. 

Swallowing, you willed your emotions beneath the surface to plaster on your face of grace. Swiping another glass of faerie wine, you focused on the faux feelings you’d manufactured for the evening, ignoring those you really felt towards Azriel as best you could.

You were deep in conversation, laughing and joking with the female visiting from Vallahan when Azriel’s fingers tensed around your waist. Feigning ignorance, you smiled lazily at your “mate.” 

“Is everything alright, my love?” You asked - the question you’d planned beforehand if anything unplanned were to arise. 

Azriel’s gaze flicked to you, more wild than you had ever seen his bright hazel eyes. “I am just aching for a dance with my mate, is all,” he purred, teasing voice betraying the shaking fingertips that hovered your hips.

With audible “awws” and cooing at two new mates who couldn’t resist to be apart, the other fae ushered you towards the busy dance floor, where Azriel took your hand and waist, back held in surprisingly impressive form.

“I know the male in the opposite corner from where I face,” Azriel whispered in your ear, soft as if he were telling you sweet nothings. You ignored the hitch in your breath, gaze flicking briefly to a tall, burly male in the corner whose own eyes flicked to Azriel with curiosity.

“Come with me,” you whispered back, not missing how Azriel shivered at your lips on his ear. He followed you, hands loosely intertwined while you wove through the crowd towards the dark corner of the room opposite from the suspecting male.

Your heart hammered in your chest as the male moved through the ballroom, gaze scanning the crowd including yourselves as though he were looking for someone. 

“Kiss me,” you whispered, pulling Azriel’s body tight against your own, which was pressed to the cold wall. 

“W-what?” he choked out, and you had to bite back your grin at the uncharacteristically flustered spymaster. 

“Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable. Kiss me,” you demanded, willing yourself not to look to the presence you could sense nearing you.

Azriel’s eyes practically glowed as he searched your face, searching for affirmation before one hand found your waist, the other wrapping around the back of your neck as he pulled you in for a deep kiss.

An electric energy shot through you, the spark hitting your chest hard enough to steal your breath at the feeling of his soft lips on your own. You melted into the kiss with ease, both of your bodies interlacing like two halves of a whole. 

You were dizzy for air, completely forgetting everyone else around you when Azriel pulled away, his eyes wide with something that looked like shock. 

Pushing back, you scanned the area for potential threats before deciding you couldn’t find anything. “Azriel, what happened? Are you okay?” You whispered, thumb stroking his cheek to keep up the charade of new mates.

“I- you’re my...” Azriel stuttered, just as you caught sight of the suspicious male slipping out onto the balcony. 

“Come on, Az. Let’s see what they’re up to,” you whispered, keeping a note in your mind to ask him what he was distracted by at a later time.

[obsidian-pages777]

Pick a card: Your Future Aesthetic.Pick an Image

Left to Right Top Row-> Pile 1, Pile 2. Left Bottom Row -> Pile 3 [Pick one of the three]

If You Liked This Reading Sign up to TheObsidianPages777 Newsletter

+Free E-Guides on New Moon Manifestation and Gem Stone for Life Path

Reading 1: The Ethereal Dreamer

Card Drawn: The Star

Your future self will be deeply enchanted by an ethereal, dreamy aesthetic. Imagine a world filled with soft, flowing fabrics in pastel hues like lavender, blush pink, and sky blue. Your spaces will be adorned with fairy lights, delicate crystals, and celestial motifs such as stars and moons. This aesthetic is all about creating a serene, magical atmosphere that feels almost otherworldly.

Your fashion choices will lean towards flowing, bohemian dresses, sheer materials, and intricate lace details.Mostly pastel themes. Being attracted to light colors.Butterfly motifs are prominent. You might carry a free flowing nature to your personality representing your aspirations towards expansion of peace.

Home decor will feature airy, light-filled spaces with plenty of natural elements like feathers, geodes, and plants.

Your future self will seek to create a sanctuary that feels like a serene escape from reality, full of whimsical fairie-esque and gentle beauty.

================================================================================================

Reading 2: The Bold Visionary

Card Drawn: The Emperor

Your future self will gravitate towards a bold, visionary aesthetic that exudes confidence and sophistication. This look is defined by strong lines, rich colors like deep navy, burgundy, and emerald, and luxurious materials such as velvet, leather, and silk.

Your fashion will include tailored suits, statement pieces with geometric patterns, and accessories that make a statement.

Home decor will feature modern furniture with clean lines, metallic accents, and striking art pieces. Your spaces will be meticulously organized and designed to project power and elegance.

The aesthetic you will love is one that commands attention and reflects a sense of authority and ambition, perfectly suited for a leader who is unafraid to stand out and make bold moves.

================================================================================================

Reading 3: The Vintage Romantic

Card Drawn: The Lovers

Your future self will find joy in a vintage, romantic aesthetic that celebrates nostalgia and timeless beauty.

Picture a world filled with delicate floral patterns, antique furniture, and soft, muted tones like rose, cream, and sage green. Your fashion will be inspired by eras past, with a love for lace, vintage dresses, pearl accessories, and retro hairstyles.

Home decor will feature shabby chic elements, ornate picture frames, and cozy, intimate settings with lots of personal touches like family heirlooms and handmade crafts.

This aesthetic is all about creating a warm, inviting atmosphere that feels both elegant and charmingly old-fashioned. Your future self will delight in the romance and history embedded in this timeless style.

================================================================================================

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[p0orbaby]

@randombush3 violated my inbox to request this so you have her to thank

old!money, boarding school reunion, and some other bits im too common to explain !

-

The reunion gala is being held in the dining hall, which is now unrecognisable, strung with white fairy lights and overrun by women who look like they’ve stepped out of a Tatler feature on “The New Guard.” You and Leah arrive late, her fingers laced loosely with yours, her face caught in a look of quiet amusement she’s been wearing ever since you explained what the event actually was. The type of function where everyone’s name rhymes—Tillie, Millie, Mintie, Lottie—and they all wear headbands, pearls, and just enough Loewe to feign not trying.

“Are you sure I’m dressed for this?” Leah mutters as you step into the room. She’s in a black blazer, simple but sharply tailored, and trousers that cling to her frame in a way that has made you a little distracted all evening.

“You’re perfect,” you say, squeezing her hand. “Besides, half of them are just here to drink champagne and complain about the wallpaper”

The first person to approach you is Tillie Worthington, née Price, whose voice hasn’t changed since you last heard it at seventeen: clipped, nasal, and deeply amused by everything. She air-kisses you, one cheek then the other, leaving a faint trace of Jo Malone behind, and sizes Leah up with the kind of interest usually reserved for auction lots.

“This must be your footballer,” Tillie says brightly, as if she’s been handed a guest list and not just guessed from Leah’s posture, which screams athlete. “Leah, isn’t it? How marvellous. I’m Tillie, darling. Went to school with your girl. She was an absolute terror in Upper Fourth”

Leah shoots you a look, equal parts entertained and confused. “Upper Fourth?”

“Year Nine,” you mutter.

“She had all the girls swooning,” Tillie continues, ignoring you, her attention fully on Leah now. “They’d leave her chocolates in the locker room. Did she tell you that? Or is she still pretending to be shy?” She winks.

Leah grins, leaning into the banter. “She’s not shy”

Your cheeks are already burning when Mintie Sotherby appears, dragging her husband—a man who looks like he was born holding a yacht steering wheel—behind her. Mintie is as you remember: glossy and terrifying, with the kind of presence that made underclassmen weep in corridors. She zeroes in on Leah like a heat-seeking missile.

“You’re the Arsenal one, right?” she says, tilting her head. “You’re on my husband’s fantasy football team.” She pauses, turning to the man at her elbow. “Aren’t you, darling?”

“Er—yes,” he says, with the enthusiasm of someone who doesn’t know his own players. “Very good value for money”

You’re about to step in when Lottie—of course it’s Lottie—arrives, carrying two glasses of champagne and a third that she thrusts at Leah. “Here,” she says conspiratorially, her vowels clipped like a BBC anchor. “You’ll need this if you’re meeting everyone. They’re all positively feral tonight”

Leah raises the glass, her grin widening. “I’m starting to see that”

The night is a whirlwind of introductions, champagne, and remarks that range from condescending to bizarre. Leah handles it all with a grace you’re sure she didn’t think she had, charming your comrades like she’s been doing it for years. But the moment you’ve been dreading comes as you’re cornered by Pippa Hardwicke, your former dorm mate and now a full-time collector of scandal.

“Oh, and let’s not forget the time she got caught sneaking into the boys’ school across the lake,” Pippa announces, her voice carrying over the din of conversation. “Right through the headmaster’s garden. She had to scale a wall in a dress she’d nicked from the laundry room—can you imagine?”

Leah turns to you, eyebrows raised, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips. “Is this true?”

You’re halfway through an attempt at deflection when Pippa adds, “And she left her shoes behind. Do you know how hard it is to explain a pair of muddy Louboutins in the middle of a rose bush?”

Leah bursts into laughter, shaking her head. “Oh, I’m going to need to hear all of this later,” she says, her tone low, conspiratorial.

You groan, pulling her away as Pippa prepares to recount the time you tried to rig the voting for Head Girl. “We’re leaving. Right now”

“Leaving?” Leah says, grinning as she falls into step beside you. “Baby, I’m just getting started. I’ve got so many questions. Like, how many times were you caught sneaking around? And did you really steal the dress?”

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” you mutter, though the warmth in her voice is impossible to resist.

“I am,” she says, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “But I also love picturing you in the middle of a garden, barefoot, running from security. It explains so much”

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Bridal Shop ft Nanami Kento

Rating: 18+, MDNI Warnings: Sex, vaginal and clitoral fingering, oral Featuring: Nanami Kento x female reader Word Count: 2590 Summary: A final dress fitting leads to something else when the bridal shop owner takes over your appointment A/N: All images are from pinterest and are linked at the bottom of the post for credit. Inspiration for the wedding dress was this.

Nanami masterlist

You skipped merrily into the bridal shop, ready for the final fitting. The wedding was only 2 weeks away. A healthy pink glow was visible on your face. Most would say it’s because your wedding day is approaching. Your best friend would tease you that it’s because of the bridal shop owner.

The sweet old woman who had assisted you during your first fitting spots you immediately and waves you over to her. She grasps your hands with wrinkled knotted hands and smiles brightly at you. “Not too long now…You must be very excited!”

“Indeed I am!” You chirp back excitedly. “Will it be a while or…?”

“Not at all! We’re ready for you now. On straight through to the back. Fitting room 2.”

You thank the woman and waltz back into the stall. Not too shortly after the tailor comes in, exchanging warm greetings with you, asking you how wedding planning was going, as she carefully helps you fit into the dress, gently buttoning up the pearl fastenings on the back as she fusses with the skirt, whirling it out around you. Your breath catches as you look at yourself in the mirror.

The dress had been fitted perfectly, the waistline pure perfection to the last millimeter. With the tulle and illusion sleeves, it was like right out of a dream. You feel yourself tear up as you see yourself in the mirror. It was so pretty, beyond your imagination. Ever prepared, the tailor quickly offers you a tissue and a gentle smile. 

“I’ll let you have a moment. Let it all soak in. Let me know when you’re ready to have it taken off.” The tailor exits quietly through the door. You spin around, admiring yourself from all angles. You’re so happy you listened to your fiance when he had insisted on going with this one. 

A fairy tale dress for a princess, he had said. Your smile widens as you do one last twirl. You hear the handle of the fitting room rattle, and turn to tell the tailor you’re ready to change, then freeze when you see who’s standing in the doorway.

Sharp brown eyes look at you with such intensity that you blush. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

His mouth curves into a soft smile as he takes in the sight of you in your wedding dress. The owner of the bridal shop was quite a striking man, with his physique, styled blonde hair, and impressive height. 

“I wasn’t aware that you visited brides during their fittings.” Your mouth had gone dry. He looked so immaculate in tailored pants and a waistcoat, shirt fitting beautifully to his broad shoulders, sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealing corded, well toned forearms. 

He chuckles at your comment, then steps in, locking the door behind him. Your heart skips a beat and you almost miss his next words over the rush of blood in your ears. 

“Never. But this dress…I have a special affinity for it.”

He stands right behind you, admiring you in the mirror. His eyes rove over the small details of the dress, the little plunge of the neckline, almost modest, between your breasts, the cups of the dress pushing them up flatteringly. 

Nanami Kento was a heartthrob in this locality. Who wouldn’t notice the handsome bridal shop owner? Women were known to wander into the shop to catch a glimpse at him, pretending to be window shopping. Many a bride had blushed as he walked with them through the shop, pulling gowns and asking questions about their dress preferences, giggling as he politely asked to see their rings. 

“Yes…I think this last fitting was much needed. Look at how flattering it looks on your body now.” His large hands softly rest on your waist as you feel rushes of heat run through you. You try your best to not look at the mirror, lest he see how flustered you were getting. His cologne was filling your senses, a deep musky scent that added a forbidden allure. 

“I was right in thinking this lace would look flattering on you.” One of his hands moves towards your front, his long fingers gently tracing the line of fabric near your collarbone, sending skitters of electricity through you. Your heart thumps in your chest as you try to keep your composure.

“Ah…thank you.” You manage to say. “You do have a good eye for what looks best.” You can hear how your voice has taken on a breathy quality and try to focus. You had plans after this, meeting with your bridesmaids for dinner. 

Nanami smiles at your praise, then says, so close to your ear, “Why aren’t you wearing any jewelry today? Apart from your ring I mean.”

His breath makes you tingle with need, making you tongue tied, words stumbling over each other. “I-ah-ahem. Should I be wearing…jewelry?”

“You should. Most brides wear a necklace after a fitting to make sure it doesn’t clash with the neckline.” His fingers creep up from your collarbone to the hollow at the base of your throat and your breath catches. 

“And earrings,” he adds, his other hand abandoning your waist to gently massage your bare earlobe. You feel uncomfortable heat starting to gather between your thighs and resist the urge to lean back against his muscular frame. Your eyes close as he continues to fondle the soft piece of flesh then almost jump out of your skin as his hot breath tickles your other ear.

“Earrings help you figure out if you've chosen the right veil or not.” His lips were practically touching the shell and a strangled gasp leaves your lips.

“You really are the ideal representation of a blushing bride,” Nanami murmurs softly. His hands start to play with your hair, and you swallow, trying to gather the vestiges of your rapidly fading sensibility. 

“Have you decided if you’re wearing your hair up or down?” His fingers swirl the locks of hair flowing down your shoulders, making a loose bun with them at the nape of your neck. It takes you a moment to process his question, the movements of fingers feeling deliciously seductive. 

“Up.” You didn’t trust yourself to say another word.

He nods, leaning forward to look over your shoulder into the mirror. “I think that’s a good choice. Plays well with your features.” His fingers skim over your cheek which looked positively rosy now.

“Were you done with your fitting?”

You give yourself a little shake mentally. “Yes.” You wished he would stop stroking you so tenderly. You were starting to have thoughts quite opposite to the image of a demure bride. 

“I actually need to call back the tailor to help me with this-”

“No need.” He cuts you off smoothly, leaving no room for objection. “I assume she’s busy. And it’s a small task. I can help you.”

With patience, Nanami starts undoing the small pearl buttons. You stand, embarrassment rising, but unable to resist. He was so charming, eyes focused on his task, while you stole glances at him in the mirror, the sharp, chiseled features of his face, the lovely hue of brown his eyes were. You shiver as air hits your bare skin, his fingers going lower and lower, finally reaching the last few buttons near your waist. He spreads apart the fabric, hands caressing your back. His eyes meet yours in the mirror. 

“Look at me,” he whispers, waiting until your eyes met his before sliding the dress off your shoulders, carefully holding the skirt to avoid wrinkling it, revealing the adorable pink lace bra you had worn in hopes of surprising your fiance later. He grips the bodice carefully and moves away from you.

“Step out.” Nanami’s voice isn’t demanding; it was a request. Feeling like your legs had turned to jello, you lift one leg, then the other, stepping out of the dress before he grabs a hanger to put it away. You can feel your sex throb from need and squeeze your legs together, acutely aware that the matching pink panties must have a stain now from your dripping core. 

Once he’s secured the dress, his attention falls back to you. His eyes stop at your thighs. “No garter to go with the dress?”

You glance up at him shyly. “Are garters part of the dress fitting?”

“They should be,” he murmurs before closing the gap between you, his lips covering yours. The tension that had been building inside you snaps and you respond hungrily, body pressing unashamedly against his, feeling the hard muscles under his clothes. 

“You do look good in pink,” he says in a husky voice as you both break apart, only for him to start placing wet kisses on your neck, his hands expertly snapping open the catch of your bra with the same ease as he did with the buttons on your wedding dress. His large hands cup your breasts, massaging them, before his thumbs rest on the centers of your hardened nipples, moving them in circles, the friction making you feel weak at the knees. Your mouth finds his again, tongues brushing against each other, his fingers softly tweaking and pulling the hardened peaks. Your moans are muffled, lost in the greed of his kiss. 

He pulls back before guiding you over to the chair that sits in the corner of the fitting room, helping you comfortably straddle him, softly suckling on one of your nipples while his hands roam down your back, squeezing your waist, holding you tight as you whimper and moan. His hands eventually slide down to your ass, gripping the fat covetously, before slipping below the scanty lace that covered your pussy.

“Why do brides always abstain from sex a few weeks before the wedding?” Nanami muses as he presses dexterous fingers between your wet folds, making you gasp.  

“I-it’s not-” You choke out, unable to form coherent words.

“Look at this.” There’s a raspy quality to Nanami’s voice as he pulls out his fingers for your inspection, covered with your arousal. “Hardly did anything and you’re already making a mess. Honestly, why do you brides do this to yourselves?”

He licks his fingers clean before gripping you under your thighs, momentarily lifting you up, before standing and seating you on the chair instead. Your legs spread apart wantonly, thoughts of decency thrown out the window. Nanami hooks his index around the fabric covering your crotch, pulling it to the side, spreading apart your glistening labia with his other hand. The tangy scent of need hits his nose and he licks a line up from your entrance to your clit, before laying his tongue over the swollen bud, licking sensually. 

You’re trying your best to muffle your noises and failing spectacularly, moans getting louder and needier as he tenderly alternates between sucking and licking your clit, the variations driving out all reasoning, leaving only primal thoughts in your head. Unashamedly, you grind against his mouth, desperate for a release. You sob with delight as he inserts a finger, followed by a second, stretching you out, making you feel deliciously full. You had been abstaining and didn’t realize how much you had missed it. His fingers curl up into that small patch inside you, matching his movements to the pace of his tongue on your clit. Your hands move involuntarily, pulling at his hair, back arching against the chair as he pushes you over the edge. 

A loud, lewd sound leaves your lips as the orgasm takes over, feeling your pussy spasm pleasurably, clit pulsating, wave after wave racking your system. He doesn’t spare a second, quickly unzipping his trousers and adjusting you before slipping his cock into your wetness. 

You were unprepared for the sudden intrusion, making you gasp in shock as you adjust to his thickness, pussy still fluttering from your climax. Your legs wrap around his waist as he moves closer, almost folding you in half and he starts to thrust into you. 

“Fuck…so tight…looks like abstinence…made your pussy forget…how to take cock…” he says between breaths, his movements so sinfully slow, ensuring you feel every inch of him, taking note of every small spasm your body makes around him. 

You whine at his slow thrusts, needing more. “Kento…”

“Did you need something my dear?” You want to shake him for his ability to sound so polite, like you were having tea together instead of him being buried in your cunt. 

“I need more…please…” You can’t keep the urgency out of your voice. His eyes darken at your request.

“Desperate to cum on my cock are you?” he teases, pulling back until he’s almost about to pull out the tip before slamming back into you, making you moan noisily. His hips snap into you, placing his fingers into your mouth, the unspoken command clear in his eyes; wet them.

You suck his fingers, moistening them with your saliva before he removes them, using the lubrication to rub circles onto your clit. The sensation combined with the force of him fucking into you makes your eyes roll back into your head. You were so close, and judging by his grunts and movements getting sloppier, so was he. 

“Such a sweet bride…you’ll be an even sweeter mother someday…” He pants as he maintains a rhythm, close to his own climax. You feel the familiar feeling of heat and tension building in your belly, coiling like a spring waiting to be set free. Soon enough, a second climax rips through you, stealing the breath from your lungs, your mouth open in a silent scream as it grips you. With a grunt, Nanami’s hips snap forward aggressively and you feel his cock spasm, little twitches inside your pussy as he empties himself into you. 

Sated, both of you pant, trying to catch your breath. He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a small pack of tissues, using one to clean up and catch his cum as he slips out of you. He gently runs another one down your slit, cleaning you up as best as he can.

“Not just good for an emotional bride,” he jokes as he wads up the used tissues.

Your muscles ache in protest as he lowers your legs to the floor. He smiles at your state, exhausted, fucked out in the sweetest way possible. Nanami fusses with your hair, trying to bring it back to a state of decency before handing you your bra.

“You’d better hurry up and get dressed. Dinner with the bridesmaids at 7, yeah?”

OUTSIDE THE FITTING ROOM:

The tailor who had been assisting you was relatively new and she was now waiting in the back break room along with the elderly woman who had greeted you earlier. She clicks her tongue impatiently. 

“I saw Mr. Nanami go into the fitting room she was in…should I be concerned?” she asks the older woman.

The wizened lady giggles at her. The tailor frowns. “What? Am I missing something?”

“That’s his fiancee that came in for a fitting. I say let’s give them a few more minutes. I’m sure he’s already helped her put away the gown.” She laughs heartily at the dumbstruck look on the tailor’s face. 

“Wha-but-” the tailor splutters. “Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride in the wedding dress before the wedding?”

“Considering he’s the one that designed it, I think an exception can be made. Now hush and get back out front. There’s other customers that need attending to.”

wedding themed divider by: @/ fairytopea Image 1Image 2Image 3

Support banner by @/cafe kitsune

[jadeshifting]

— PLACES TO SCRIPT (HOGSMEADE)

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

🪼 — THE HOGSMEADE TROLLEY glides through the village on invisible tracks, its smooth wooden exterior adorned with shimmering silver and gold filigree and glowing lanterns that cast a warm, inviting light. Enchanted to give off the sounds of lightly ringing bells, you can hear it coming from a block away, and it carries passengers from one end of town to the other without needing a driver Inside. Riders can sit in cushioned seats to enjoy their journey, or more haphazardly stand or hang off the side while holding onto the bar

🪼 — THE SORCERER’S SCONE is a charming bakery tucked away in a cobblestone corner of Hogsmeade, where the sweet scent of fresh pastries and the soft glow of fairy lights lure passersby inside. The shelves are always stocked with warm, buttery croissants, cakes that shimmer with enchantments, and delicate sugar cookies shaped like miniature broomsticks

🪼 — VELVET & LACE is Hogsmeade’s premier formal wear boutique, offering a dazzling collection of enchanted gowns, tailored robes, and wizarding suits. Each garment is crafted to ensure a perfect fit, making it the most-wanted destination before any dance or event. The shop’s opulent interior, adorned with floating mirrors and soft candlelight, makes every visit feel like a step into a royal castle

🪼 — FLOREAN’S FROSTED FLAVORS is a cozy ice cream parlor known for its enchanted scoops that sparkle, swirl, and sometimes change colors. With a constantly changing menu of magical flavors like Butterbeer Swirl and Fizzing Chocolate Chip, it’s a favorite spot for students and locals alike. The atmosphere is warm and filled with the soft hum of chatter and the occasional laughter from the enchanted toppings misbehaving

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

🪼 — THE ENCHANTED EASEL is a whimsical arts and crafts shop where paints shimmer with magical hues and quills sketch on their own. Shelves overflow with supplies from self-weaving yarn to enchanted parchment that animates drawings. It’s a hot spot for creative witches and wizards seeking the right materials for all their different hobbies

🪼 — MAGIC MIRROR is a luxurious shop nestled in Hogsmeade, offering a wide range of magical makeup, hair products, and skincare potions. With shimmering shelves stocked with enchanted creams and shimmering powders, customers can indulge in the finest products, crafted to bring out their inner radiance with a little magical help

🪼 — THE QUAFFLE CLOSET is a cozy, no-frills shop tucked away on a side street in Hogsmeade, offering an eclectic collection of secondhand robes, dresses, and accessories at remarkably low prices. The shelves are stacked with vibrant, well-loved garments from past seasons, with charms used to make them look refreshed. Though humble, it’s a favorite spot for students looking to snag a deal or find something truly unique

🪼 — PRIMWICK’S PIES is a cozy, magical pizzeria in Hogsmeade, where wood-fired pizzas are crafted with enchanted ingredients and topped with a multitude of flavors. The rustic interior is warm and inviting, with bubbling cauldrons of sauce and enchanted ovens that hum with a gentle, glowing heat

🪼 — THE BLOOMING BOUGH is a charming florist shop where blooms thrive in year round, regardless of the season. Enchanted roses change color with your mood, and whispering vines curl gently around curious hands. The air is filled with the scent of fresh flowers, and the skill of the florists make it a favorite stop for romantic gestures and seasonal celebrations

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

🪼 — SHEAR DELIGHT is a cozy, inviting hair salon and barbershop in Hogsmeade where both wizards and witches come for trims and new styles. The atmosphere is lively and friendly, endless amounts of gossip is spilled between stylist and client, and customers leave looking their best

🪼 — OPAL & ONYX is a charming jeweler’s shop in Hogsmeade, its windows sparkling with an array of enchanted rings, necklaces, and bracelets that catch the light in mesmerizing ways. Each piece is crafted by hand, many are imbued with protective charms. Whether seeking a gift or a personal keepsake, the shop offers something for every occasion

🪼 — MOONLIT MYSTIC is nestled between two towering oak trees at the outskirts of town, draped in rich velvet curtains and flickering candlelight. Inside, an ornate crystal ball rests on a velvet cushion, surrounded by ancient tarot decks and incense smoke that dances in the air. You can pay to have your fortune told here, though it’s still unconfirmed whether the elderly witch is a talented divinator, or a scammer

🪼 — THE SALTY TIDE is a cozy seafood restaurant in Hogsmeade, where the air is thick with the scent of freshly caught fish and magically created ocean breezes whistle through the windows. Its rustic wooden tables and softly glowing lanterns illuminate the walls, which are lined with aquariums filled with shimmering fish. The menu features a variety of magical and muggle-inspired seafood dishes

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Someone Borrowed, Someone Blue.

an engagement party, your childhood best friend, one too many glasses of champagne. what could go wrong?

pairing - childhood bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. cheating. alcohol mention. so much angst… i’d apologise but i’m not sorry.

word count - 3.7k

author’s note - get it? like, something borrowed, something blue… because it’s a wedding… I was half asleep when that popped into my head and I thought it was perfect, personally. I don’t condone cheating irl, but also… it’s your life, do what you want ;)

as always, reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics!! so, if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging. thanks, angels <3

masterlist. inbox.

The moonlight shines down, glinting off the diamond ring settled on your left hand.

Everyone's dancing, singing, laughing, enjoying each other's company in a rare moment of complete happiness. People keep grabbing you, hugging you, reaching for you to offer their congratulations.

Isn't it just so wonderful? Two people completely in love. Ah, to be young again.

The fairy lights twinkle where they're hung across the garden, acres of grass just begging to be decorated. You'd initially protested this venue - a huge country house in the middle of nowhere, with countless rooms and a huge courtyard.

It's just our engagement party, not our wedding. We don't have to be so extravagant.

This isn't extravagant - not for my family, anyway. Just say yes. I'll plan the entire thing, you don't have to worry.

And so you did. Say yes. To his proposal, the venue, anything he suggests. You can't find it in you to say no, to argue, to fight for what you really want. It isn't worth it.

"There you are, my soon to be wife!"

You take a deep breath, pretending the sound of his voice doesn't make you feel sick.

"My soon to be husband."

He can't see the grimace on your face, even though it's there, loud and clear. He can't read you, has never been able to.

"A car has just pulled up. You expecting anyone else?"

You are, but you won't let yourself get your hopes up. So you lie.

"Don't think so."

"Okay, well... you'll save me a dance, won't you? My mom wants to take some pictures."

You nod reluctantly, patting his arm with as much affection as you can muster.

"I think your brother is calling you."

You direct his attention to where his frat boy siblings are, hollering and yelling for him to come over.

"My guys!"

He departs as quickly as he came, leaving a wave of too strong cologne in his wake.

You take a walk from the garden to the front of the house, curiosity peaked. You scan the parking lot, and your heart stops when you spot the car in the corner.

A burgundy 1983 BMW 733i.

He's here.

You spin on your heel, searching almost frantically, when you hear someone clear their throat. You turn around, and there he is.

Leaning against a pillar, stood in a dress shirt and tailored trousers, hair perfectly styled.

Steve Harrington.

You're half convinced you're dreaming. The world moves around you in a daze, crickets chirping and wind blowing gently. You lock eyes with him, and can't fight the grin that spreads across your face.

“Don’t fret, baby. The life of the party has arrived.”

You scoff but almost run towards him, tripping over in your heels. He meets you halfway, arms snaking around your waist to keep you steady as you wrap yourself around him.

He smells the same. Cologne, spearmint, a faint note of diesel from the car. He smells like home.

Past home, you remind yourself. Not anymore. You have a new home now, with a soon to be husband that doesn’t understand you and a soon to be family that is built on morally questionable money and fake niceties. Steve’s a person of your past, a distant memory, a fading dream.

Except he’s stood right in front of you.

He's staring at you with a look in his eyes you can’t quite place. You’ve never seen it before.

"I didn't think you'd come," you whisper, begging yourself to pull away from his embrace. He doesn't let you go far, keeping his arms around your back as if he's worried you'll bolt at any given moment.

"And miss my best friends engagement party? Never."

"Best friends. We're not five anymore, Steve."

You roll your eyes, punching his arm lightly.

"What, I can't call you my best friend anymore?"

He picks you up, spinning you across the gravel of the parking lot. You're dizzy with it, the world passing by you in streaks of shapes and colours.

"Steve!"

"What?" he laughs. "You don't like this, best friend? What's the problem, best friend? Are you dizzy, best friend?"

"Put me down!"

Steve throws you over his shoulder as you both spin, strong hands preventing you from falling.

"Put me down, Steve, please - okay, okay! You're my best friend! Call me best friend all you want, please!"

Steve's crying with laughter, out of breath and rosy cheeked. He places you back on the ground, smoothing your hair down with rough palms.

You inhale carefully, grabbing onto his biceps as an anchor as you gauge your bearings. You look up at him, and lose your breath all over again.

Chest heaving, tongue darting over his bottom lip, hair mussed but still perfectly styled. He looks a picture, an ancient painting, a statue carved from the finest marble.

"I never want you to stop calling me your best friend," you whisper, so quietly that the breeze takes it.

"Then I won't."

Your hand slips down Steve's arm and into his, fingers linking gently.

"I missed you."

"I missed you so much, Birdy. You have no idea."

The childhood nickname shoots a lightning bolt through your heart, shiver running up your back involuntarily.

The two of you would sit and watch cartoons for hours on the floor of Steve's living room, pressing your little heads together to see the TV better. He'd joke that you sounded like Tweety Bird, all sweet and lispy. The nickname was born that day, and stuck ever since.

"How was California?"

"So good. I'll tell you all about it later. How's your engagement party?"

"It's good."

You try to sound convincing but your voice cracks, giving you away instantly. Busted.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. There's a few people you know back there - from school, the neighbourhood, family. They'll all wanna see you."

"I'll socialise later. Wanna talk to you first."

The intensity in his voice makes you nervous. You realise you're still holding his hand, so you drop it, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You didn't RSVP."

"Didn't get your invite. Travelling."

"I called your mom. She said she'd tell you."

"She didn't."

"She told me she did."

The crickets continue to chirp, gentle breeze blowing your hair into your face. You look at Steve pointedly, unwilling to be the first to break.

"What are you doing here, Steve?"

"It's your engagement party."

"So you've said."

"I haven't seen you in months."

"I tried to call, but you stopped answering."

"Birdy-"

"I'm just saying, Steve. We haven't spoken in months, I feel like you've been point blank ignoring me, I've had to come to terms with the fact that you probably wouldn't be at this party or the wedding and then all of a sudden you just show up? Unannounced?"

"I know how this looks."

"Do you?"

You're not entirely sure where all of this anger has come from, but you can't seem to tamp it down. It's bubbling, simmering, threatening to spill over the surface dramatically any second.

"I wasn't sure I could do this. Any of it."

"Do what?"

"Stand by and watch you make a mistake."

You scoff, laughing at him in disbelief. He's never been one to sugarcoat things, and usually, it's one of your favourite things about him. But not today.

"Don't you fucking dare, Steve."

"Birdy, be real. The guy is a prick. And you want to marry him? You're a smart girl, the smartest person I know. You've got to see that none of this makes any sense."

"So you showed up here to yell at me? Criticise my life choices? Thanks, Steve. Thanks a million. Some best friend, huh?"

"I've done nothing but support you."

"You ran away! Across the country! How is that support?"

"Fine, maybe I can't support straight up stupidity!"

"Am I smart or am I stupid? Which one is it?"

Steve sighs, running his fingers through his hair as he watches you pace the gravel in front of him. You're vibrating with fury now. It's something he's seen before. Something he knows how to navigate better than anyone. He knows you. He knows you need an outlet here.

He also knows that you're never more hyperaware than when you're mad. So, he takes his opportunity.

"I came here to tell you not to marry him."

You stop dead in your tracks, shaking your head in denial.

"...Why, Steve? Why would you say that?"

"You know why."

"No."

You take a deep breath and will yourself not to cry. In the garden, you can hear people laughing, singing along to some 70s pop song you've never liked. You pray silently that no one comes looking for you.

You take a step closer to Steve, standing up straight.

"Say it."

He looks at you incredulously, shocked by your sudden defiance.

"Say it, Steve. If you came all this way to say it, then fucking say it."

Steve steps into you, closing down the space. You don't move, determined not to back down.

"You're going to hate me if I say it, Birdy."

"I don't give a fuck anymore. Say. It."

Steve runs his tongue over his bottom lip, never once breaking eye contact with you. The silence seems to stretch on infinitely, thick and blanketing like fresh snow falling.

"I'm in love with you."

You feel like you've been punched in the gut. You take a deep breath and try to stay on two feet, wobbling where you stand. Finally, you find your voice.

"Fuck you, Steve Harrington. Fuck. You."

He laughs, but there's no humour in it.

"Yeah."

"How dare you? How dare you come to my engagement party and start confessing your feelings? You could have told me anytime, but you chose today?"

He goes to interrupt but you hold a finger up, effectively shutting him up.

"How long, huh? How long have you been in love with me?"

Steve's trembling, chest stuttering with the force of his confession.

"For as long as I can remember."

You haven't looked away from him once. You're frozen in place, suspended in the moment.

"No you haven't."

"You're gonna tell me how I feel now, Birdy?"

"Yeah, Steve, I am. Because I don't believe you. You're King Steve, ladies man, notorious player. You were never seen with the same girl twice in high school. Don't you remember? Sneaking into my room at night, whispering under my blankets about your latest hookup, telling me all the dirty details?"

"I remember," he whispers, voice laced with something like sadness. "Of course I remember."

"You don't get to tell me this now. It's not fair, Steve."

"Why not, huh?"

"Because I've always been in love with you! Always."

Steve stumbles backwards, dizzy and disorientated.

"No you haven't."

"You're gonna tell me how I feel now?" you laugh in disbelief. "I've always been in love with you. Everyone knows it. My parents, your parents, all of our friends... I think the goddamn mailman knew, Steve!"

"I didn't."

"Blissful ignorance," you chuckle humourlessly.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew it wouldn't change anything."

Steve's eyes go wide as he keels over, as if the wind has been knocked out of him.

"Wouldn't change anything? Birdy, it... I-I can assure you it... It would have changed everything."

You both look at each other, breathless and riddled with confusion. There's something flowing through your veins, something unintelligible, something unrecognisable.

"Why would you do this today?" you choke out, sobs threatening to break free. "Of all the days, Steve."

"Because I'm going insane!" he yells, voice raising. "I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't function knowing that you're going to marry a man you don't love. It's ruining my life, Birdy!"

"You don't think it's ruining mine? Huh?"

You take a breath, very aware that if you shout anymore, multiple people are going to come running from the garden.

"This is selfish, Steve. And you're not selfish."

He looks down at you, bottom lip wobbling.

"I am when it comes to you. Always have been."

"You're breaking my fucking heart, baby."

You choke out the words before bursting into tears, sobs wracking your frame. Steve grabs your hand and guides you to the stone steps, sitting you down next to him. Against better judgment, he slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

He smells so familiar, so comforting, that it only makes you cry harder. You bury your face in his chest, fingers tangled into his dress shirt, holding on for dear life.

"I'm sorry," he's mumbling. "I'm so fucking sorry. I had to. I really had to."

"I know," you're muttering back. "I know you did. I know."

You lift your head to look at him only to find he's crying too, years of emotion dripping down his face. You wipe his tears with your thumbs, your heart shattering at the sight in front of you.

Steve's only made you cry once before. In ninth grade, you'd stupidly assumed that the two of you would go to the prom together. Steve had made a joking comment about always being your date, and you hadn't questioned it. Then, one Friday night, he'd snuck into your room to tell you excitedly that he'd asked Lizzy Buchanan to the dance, and she'd said yes. You'd burst into tears immediately, much to your teenage embarrassment, willing yourself to play your cards closer to your chest. Steve had crumbled instantly, crying because you were.

That's how it's always been. He cries, you cry. You cry, he cries. He's just not usually the cause of the tears.

"I'm sorry, Birdy," he chokes. "This was the only way."

"I know," you soothe, rubbing circles into his wet cheeks with your fingers. "I know. You're not the villain here, Steve. You never were."

His eyes are trained to yours, silent communication passing back and forth. The two of you have always had the ability to practically read each other's minds.

You're not sure who moves first - perhaps it's the universe, pulling you together by the strings woven into your chests - but suddenly your lips are melded together, moving as if it's the easiest thing in the world. Steve's clinging to you as if you're his life source, a man in the desert without water.

You tangle your fingers into his hair to tug him impossibly closer, eyes fluttering when he groans, deep and visceral. He spreads his legs and pulls you between them, both of you slotting together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Your tears are dancing onto each other's cheeks, mixing like rain water and gasoline.

Suddenly, you yank yourself from his grip, standing up and smoothing down your silky dress. Steve prepares himself for the yelling, the screaming, a slap that he most definitely deserves.

Instead, he's met with you, chest heaving, skin warm, eyes heavy. You're looking at him expectantly.

"Come with me," you croak, voice hoarse and untrustworthy.

You grab his hand and slink through the front door, up the grand staircase and into a room with a heavy oak door. He follows you obediently, confused but completely trusting.

It's your hotel room. A marriage suite. A spacious, windowed room, with makeup scattered across the vanity and suitcases half unpacked on the floor. The bed is still made, which makes Steve breathe a sigh of relief. He hasn't had you here. The room isn't marred.

The minute you shut the door you're back on Steve, shoving him up against the hard wood. He grabs handfuls of your ass and spins you around, backing you into the cold surface behind you for stability. He lifts you easily, wrapping your legs around his waist as he kisses you again.

Steve trails his lips down your neck as you rock your hips, desperate to find some friction. You whine gently, fingers tugging at his hair a little rougher than intended to get your message across.

"What do you need, honey?" he murmurs, afraid to disrupt the atmosphere.

"You."

Steve throws his head back as he groans, exposing his throat to you. You waste no time in nipping up the expanse of it, sinking your teeth in with no regard for the consequences. You're too far gone now, not worried about looking back.

Walking backwards, Steve tosses you onto the bed, chuckling when you almost bounce off of it. He unbuttons and strips his shirt, pulling his belt from the loops as he goes. You can only lie there and watch, wondering when your best friend became less of a boy and more of a man. He's all corded muscle and tanned skin, freckled and perfect.

Steve crawls between your legs, kissing you tenderly.

"Wanna take my time with you," he murmurs between kisses. "Can't right now. Will, though. Promise."

You feel as if there's electricity crackling across your skin, pulsing and alive. It's never felt like this with anyone. It never will again.

"Promise?"

You can't help the slight insecurity that colours your voice, young and unsure.

"I promise, Birdy. Cross my heart."

He takes your hand in his and places it over his chest, as if to solidify his point.

You nod and kiss him again, desperate to have every inch of his skin on yours.

Steve shimmies your underwear down your legs, tossing them behind him somewhere. Shucking his trousers off, he pushes your dress up and around your waist, groaning when he gets a good look at you.

"Prettiest girl in the world. He doesn't deserve you. Never did."

"And you do?"

"I'll spend every day for the rest of time proving that I do."

With that he's pushing into you, sliding home with one smooth thrust. Both of you gasp, grabbing onto the other person to use them as an anchor.

"Please, Steve," you're whispering. "Give me everything. I want it all."

"You've got no idea how long I've been waiting for this."

"I do," you laugh, "I do. Because I've been waiting just as long."

Steve chuckles and leans down to kiss you, slipping his tongue into your mouth to memorise the way you taste. There's remnants of champagne on your lips, along with the minty lip gloss you've loved for as long as he can remember.

He wastes no time setting a steady rhythm, thrusts deep and measured. You rake your nails down his back, clawing at this skin, praying silently that you leave your mark. Little do you know, you staked your claim on him a long, long time ago.

"S'good, Stevie," you whine. "Fuck, so good."

"Does he make you come? Does he even try?"

You shake your head frantically, closing your eyes when Steve laughs dryly.

"Didn't think so. He can't make you feel the way I can, baby. He'll never be able to."

His words are only pushing you closer and closer to the edge, red hot heat building at the pit of your stomach. Steve places one hand at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it causing your eyes to roll back.

Your sweat slicked skin is plastered to his, every inch of you pressed together. Steve leans down to rest his forehead against yours, panting into each other's mouths.

"I love you," he breathes, hips getting quicker. "I love you. Fuck, I love you."

"I love you," you sob, back arching as you find your release. Stars dance across your vision as you tighten around Steve, nails leaving crescent moons on the skin of his shoulders.

Steve's right there with you, back flexing and fingers leaving their prints on your hips as he groans. It's the prettiest sound you've ever heard. Your mind loops it for you, playing it on repeat as he collapses his weight on top of your body.

"I meant it," he mutters against your damp chest. "I do love you. Always have."

You kiss his forehead gently, smoothing the hair away from his face.

"I meant it too. I love you. You taught me what love was in the first place, Steve."

He leans up to press his lips to yours, tender and honey sweet.

You realise the gravity of the situation all of a sudden, your heart rate increasing in Steve's ear.

"Hey, hey. Birdy. Don't panic, okay? We'll figure this out."

You think for a moment, weighing up your options in your head. Unexpectedly, you're jumping out of bed, fixing your dress and slipping on your underwear and heels.

"What are you doing, babe?"

You adjust your hair and swipe your fingers under your eyes to salvage your makeup in the mirror, turning to face the man who's now dressing himself frantically.

"Have you had a drink tonight?"

"No, I drove here."

"Perfect."

You grab your purse and stand by the door, waiting for him to follow. When he looks at you in pure confusion, you chuckle.

"Let's run away."

"Birdy... what?"

"Steve. You heard me. Let's. Run. Away."

He scans your face for any sign of hesitation, but all he finds is love. Adoration. Assuredness. That's all the confirmation he needs.

He runs at you, picking you up and spinning you around. Grabbing his hand, the two of you sneak down the stairs, slipping out of the front door as quietly as possible.

You throw yourself into the front seat of his BMW, vibrating with adrenaline as Steve starts up the engine. It roars to life, and you're very aware that people are going to come looking for you.

But you don't care.

Steve links your fingers, resting your intertwined hands in his lap as he reverses. You go to look back towards the garden, but you stop yourself.

"Can't move forward if you're always looking back, right?"

Steve laughs, leaning over to kiss your warm cheek.

"Truer words have never been spoken, Birdy."

He brings the car to a stop before you begin down the winding driveway, looking at you carefully.

"You ready?"

You take a deep breath, grinning at him.

"I've been ready since we were five years old."

He smiles at you, bright and blinding, and there's no doubt in your mind that you've made the right choice.

Can't move forward if you keep looking back, after all.

@enigmaticloki @joekeerysslut @s-trawberryv-eins @wintressoldier36 @mangomastani

[anime-to-the-t]

[buckets-and-trees]

Huffily Ever After: A CindereLloyd Story [4/?]

Chapter Four - The Awards Gala Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Hansen x curvy Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 6.5k Summary: A night of industry glitz and glam brings with it some encounters and revelations you didn't expect.

SERIES Content/Warnings: modern Cinderella adaptation, unknown identities, enemies to lovers, toxic coworkers, eventual smut CHAPTER WARNING: UNWANTED SEXUAL ADVANCES

Notes: The sixth offering in my Birthday Jubilee collection.

Previous Chapter | Series

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

The dress Maggie had insisted on buying for you was nothing short of breathtaking - a floor-length gown with a fabric that shimmered subtly as you moved. The bodice hugged your curves perfectly before flowing into a graceful skirt with a discreet slit up one side. The neckline dipped low enough to be alluring without being scandalous, and delicate beading along the shoulders caught the light beautifully. You felt like a modern day princess.

Maggie had, of course, found a marvelous new dress for herself, as well.

Your mother's necklace, usually hidden beneath your clothes, now rested perfectly in the hollow of your throat, the delicate gold chain complementing the beadwork of the dress. It was a simple jewelry statement, but the dress brought enough elegant glitz that anything more might have been too much.

As the elevator doors slid open, your heart skipped a beat. There, leaning casually against the back wall, was Lloyd Hansen. His piercing blue eyes locked onto yours for a fraction of a second before you quickly averted your gaze. You hesitated for just a moment before stepping inside, deliberately choosing the opposite corner of the elevator.

The small space suddenly felt even more confined as a few other conference attendees filed in, creating a human barrier between you and Lloyd. You were grateful for their presence, giving you a perfectly acceptable excuse not to engage him in conversation at all. You kept your eyes fixed firmly on the illuminated floor numbers above the door as the lift descended.

The elegant fabric of your new gown rustled softly as you shifted your weight, hyperaware of every movement. The subtle scent of your perfume mingled with the various colognes and perfumes of the other passengers, creating an oddly intoxicating blend in the enclosed space.

You couldn't help but sneak a glance at Lloyd's reflection in the polished metal doors as you waited to be released in the lobby. He cut an impressive figure in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, the crisp white shirt a stark contrast against his tanned skin. His hair was neatly slicked back, as was typical for him. The full look - even with his bold statement mustache - combined to give him an air of sophisticated elegance that was undeniably attractive.

If only he were more of a Prince Charming instead of a Prince Charming said with sarcasm, annoyance, and an eye roll.

You quickly averted your eyes when you realized Lloyd had caught you looking. A small smirk played at the corner of his mouth, and you felt a flush creeping up your neck. Thankfully, the elevator dinged, announcing your arrival at the lobby, and you rushed out quickly ahead of him and the others.

You spotted Maggie near a large potted palm, resplendent in her new emerald green gown. Her eyes lit up when she saw you, and she waved you over enthusiastically.

"Oh, darling, you look absolutely stunning!" Maggie exclaimed, giving you an appraising look. "That dress was made for you. We certainly chose well, didn't we?"

You smiled, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. "Thank you again, Maggie. I still can't believe you insisted on getting it for me."

"Nonsense," Maggie said, “it’s fun playing fairy godmother.”

Your anticipation grew as you walked side by side with your mentor towards the grand ballroom, and it peaked as you entered the prestigious event. The room was awash in soft golden light, crystal chandeliers twinkling overhead. Tables draped in crisp white linens were adorned with elaborate floral centerpieces, and waiters in pristine uniforms glided between guests offering flutes of champagne.

"Deep breath," Maggie murmured, patting your arm reassuringly. "You belong here just as much as anyone else. This is PR - we’re all faking it. "

You nodded and grinned, grateful for her steadying presence. As you moved further into the room, you began to recognize faces from the conference - industry leaders, renowned academics, influential figures in the world of public relations and marketing, and even a few of the new friends and acquaintances you’d made over the past two days.

You wondered if your actual Prince Charming from the masquerade might be here… Though if he were, you really had no idea how you would recognize him. Versailles had been enchantingly but dimly lit - more so than this ballroom - and then your walk around the grounds and gardens had been even darker - with only occasional lamps and moonlight, but even if you’d had more proper lighting, your masked man had been wearing a full face mask. You had nothing to go off of but a general recollection of his height and build and the knowledge that he had a mustache - which you’d only felt and not seen as you’d been good and not peeked when he told you to close your eyes when he’d kissed you.

You could not go around kissing every man with a mustache here tonight.

But what would you do if you were ever face to face with him again anyway?

"Maggie!" a booming voice called out. You turned to see Claude Dumont approaching, his face eager with excitement. "And our rising star!”

He greeted each of you with the customary French double kiss.

You smiled warmly at Claude, feeling a resurgence of gratitude from the panel earlier. "Thank you again for the opportunity today, Claude. It was an incredible experience."

Claude waved his hand dismissively. "No need to thank me, my dear. You more than proved your worth up there. In fact," he leaned in conspiratorially, "I've had several people asking about you since the panel. You've made quite an impression."

You felt a flutter of excitement at his words. "Really? That's... wow. I'm honored."

"As you should be," Maggie chimed in, beaming with pride. "I told you she was something special, didn't I, Claude?"

Claude nodded enthusiastically. "Indeed you did, and as always, your judgment was impeccable." He turned back to you. "Now, the two of you simply must join us at the Hansen Global table tonight.”

As fond as you’d grown of Claude, you knew immediately that would put you at a table with Lloyd Hansen yet again and did not relish that possibility.

But Maggie was already eagerly accepting.

"Wonderful!" Claude exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "Let's head over, shall we? I believe they're about to start seating for dinner."

You tucked your reluctance away as you followed Claude and Maggie through the crowded ballroom. And as you did, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. Just days ago, you never would have imagined being invited to sit at one of the most prestigious tables at this gala. Despite your misgivings about Lloyd, you knew this was an incredible opportunity.

You also noticed the way Claude gently placed his hand on Maggie’s back as he helped navigate through a particularly thick part of the crowd. You bit your lip to keep from smiling with too much giddiness. If there was something there for Maggie, you could endure sitting at a table with anyone tonight.

The Hansen Global table was centrally located, offering a perfect view of the stage where the awards would be presented later in the evening.

As you approached the table, your eyes immediately fell on the familiar figures of Victor Chen and Lloyd. Victor, looking dapper in a classic black tuxedo, stood up to greet you with a warm smile. Lloyd, on the other hand, remained seated, his piercing blue eyes following your every move as you drew near.

But it was the unfamiliar faces at the table that truly caught your attention. Seated on the opposite side of the round banquet table from Lloyd was a distinguished-looking man in his late sixties or early seventies. His silver hair was immaculately styled, and he exuded an air of quiet authority that immediately commanded respect. His features bore a striking resemblance to Lloyd's, though softened somewhat by age.

Claude gestured towards this man. "Allow me to introduce you to Robert Hansen, the founder and architect of Hansen Global."

Robert Hansen stood, his movements graceful and powerful, effectively erasing a decade off his age, and extended his hand to you with a warm smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, his voice rich and resonant. "I heard wonderful things about your panel performance earlier today."

You felt a flutter of nerves as you shook his hand, acutely aware that you were in the presence of one of the industry's most influential figures. "Thank you, Mr. Hansen. It's an honor to meet you."

Robert chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "Please, call me Robert. Any rising star Claude speaks so highly of is welcome at our table so long as you sit by me."

As you took your seat, you couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between Robert's welcoming demeanor and Lloyd's cool indifference. Lloyd barely acknowledged your presence as you sat down, his attention seemingly focused on his phone.

"So tell me," Robert said, turning to you with genuine interest in his eyes, "what inspired you to enter the world of public relations?"

"Well, I've always been fascinated by the power of story and how people latch onto narrative. I wanted to be an author, so I joined the lit mag for my college, and eventually was part of the marketing team. I took a marketing class to help me get better and realized marketing is storytelling. What really drew me in was the challenge of navigating complex narratives and helping an organization connect authentically with an audience. And a more guarantee-able paycheck than trying to strike out as an author."

Robert laughed - as anyone did when you added the quip in your story.

“I was too far into my undergrad to want to switch majors at that point, but it sent me on the path to grad school, and Maggie was one of my professors there.”

Robert nodded approvingly. "A good journey to root you in this business. Too often, people enter this field thinking it's all about spin and damage control. But true public relations is about building genuine relationships and trust."

Around the room, everyone else seemed to be taking their seats, and servers began bringing out the salad course. Robert continued speaking primarily with you, though in his command of the table, he drew others into the discussion at various points.

He shared anecdotes from his early days in the industry, offering insights into how the field had evolved over the decades. While remaining engaged in the conversation, you did keep stealing moments to observe Maggie and Claude sitting on your other side. They weren’t overt or showy, but it was plain to see there was more than what you had assumed was only a platonic interest there, and it made your heart swell.

By the time the main course arrived, you found yourself thoroughly enjoying Robert's company. His wealth of experience and sharp wit made for engaging conversation, and you were flattered by his genuine interest in your insights. Victor, who had proven to consistently be an engaging companion in conversation, was also eager to contribute to the flow, and smiled at you often.

"You know," Robert mused, swirling the wine in his glass, "it's refreshing to see someone so young with such a nuanced understanding of brand authenticity. In my day, we were often too focused on controlling the message rather than fostering genuine connections."

You nodded, feeling a mix of pride and humility at his praise. "I think social media has really changed the game in terms of transparency and authenticity. Brands can't hide behind carefully crafted press releases anymore."

His eyes flicked briefly towards Lloyd before returning to you. "But you, my dear, clearly understand the importance of adapting to our rapidly changing landscape."

Lloyd's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly at his father's words, but he remained silent, taking a long sip of his wine.

Robert continued, his voice carrying just enough to be heard by those nearby. "I've always believed that the key to success in this field is a combination of intuition and adaptability. The ability to read a room, to sense the undercurrents of public opinion before they surface. It's a rare talent, and one that can't be taught in any classroom."

You felt a flush of pride at Robert's words, but also a twinge of discomfort at the undercurrent of tension you sensed between him and Lloyd. "Thank you, sir. I still have a lot to learn, but I'm passionate about understanding the nuances of public perception and how it shapes brand narratives."

Robert's eyes twinkled. "Modesty is admirable, but don't sell yourself short. From what I've heard, you have quite the promising career ahead of you."

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Lloyd's posture stiffen slightly. His gaze flickered between you and his father, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes.

At that moment, the emcee took to the stage, signaling the start of the awards ceremony. You settled back in your chair, grateful for the brief respite from the intensity of the conversation.

The emcee, a charismatic woman in a striking red gown, began announcing the various categories and winners. You found yourself genuinely interested in the accomplishments being celebrated, from innovative crisis management strategies to groundbreaking social media campaigns.

Throughout the ceremony, you found your gaze occasionally drifting to Lloyd. Despite his earlier coldness, you couldn't help but notice the way the soft lighting caught the angles of his face, highlighting his strong jaw and those piercing blue eyes. But what’s more, you couldn't help but wonder about the dynamic between him and his father. His gaze alternated between the stage and his phone, though you caught him glancing in your direction more than once. There was something in his expression - a tightness around his eyes, a slight clench in his jaw - that hinted at barely contained tension.

Robert continued to engage you in conversation during breaks between awards, his eyes twinkling with approval as you shared your thoughts and responded to his comments and questions.

When Hansen Global won an award for their crisis management work during a high-profile data breach, Robert stood to accept it. As he made his way to the stage, you couldn't help but notice the way Lloyd's shoulders tensed, his knuckles whitening around his glass of whiskey.

Robert's acceptance speech was gracious and eloquent, praising his team's hard work and innovation. As he spoke, you couldn't help but notice that he didn't once mention Lloyd by name, despite Lloyd being a key figure in the company.

When Robert returned to the table, he was met with a round of congratulations. Lloyd's smile seemed forced as he clinked glasses with his father, a gesture that felt more obligatory than celebratory.

As the night wore on, you found yourself increasingly aware of the undercurrent of tension between Lloyd and Robert. It was subtle - a continual tightness in Lloyd's jaw, a certain coolness in Robert's tone when addressing his son - but unmistakable to your trained eye.

During a lull in the ceremony, Robert turned to you once more. "You know," he said, his voice low and conspiratorial, "I’m so pleased you landed at our table tonight. I was so curious about whether the buzz around you could stand up to the hype, but I’m convinced you were the perfect choice to fill the spot when Leon fell ill. Claude was holding on to Lloyd here as a back up pick, but destiny intervened.”

Robert's words hung in the air, and you felt a sudden tension descend over the table. Lloyd's eyes flashed dangerously, his jaw clenching visibly.

"Father," Lloyd said, his voice low and tight with barely controlled anger. "Perhaps this isn't the time discussions like this."

Robert waved a dismissive hand. "Nonsense. We're all professionals here. And a rising star deserves to know just how impressive her performance was today."

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, acutely aware of the brewing conflict. "That's very kind of you to say, Robert. But really, I was just excited for the opportunity. I learned so much."

Lloyd's eyes met yours for a brief moment, and you were startled by the intensity of emotion you saw there - a mixture of anger, frustration, and something else you couldn't quite decipher.

Robert cleared his throat, a flicker of something - regret? frustration? - crossing his face before he smoothed his expression back into a polite smile. "My apologies," he said, his voice low again, only for you - though you weren’t the one you felt might appreciate an apology. "Family dynamics can be... complicated in this business."

You nodded, unsure of how to respond. Victor quickly jumped in, steering the conversation to safer topics, and you gave him an appreciative smile.

As the awards ceremony drew to a close, you couldn't shake the feeling that you had inadvertently become a pawn in some long-standing family drama between Lloyd and his father.

The tension at the table had abated somewhat as everyone began to stand, preparing to move to the after-party. You glanced at Maggie, hoping to catch her eye and signal your desire to make a graceful exit. However, she was deep in conversation with Claude, their heads bent close together as they spoke in hushed tones.

Lloyd vanished so quickly, you didn’t even see him take leave of your party.

Quite a few guests from other tables were pressing closer to your group to speak to Robert, and you were unsure of whether to head to the second ballroom for the next portion of the evening or use the transition to leave.

Victor suddenly appeared at your elbow, a warm smile lighting up his handsome face. "Quite the eventful evening, wouldn't you say?" he said softly, his dark eyes twinkling with understanding.

You nodded, grateful for his steady presence. "That's certainly one way to put it," you replied with a small laugh.

Victor's smile widened, revealing perfect white teeth. "Listen," he said, leaning in slightly, "I know things got a bit... tense there for a moment. I always find it fascinating to observe the Hansen family dynamics, but I’ve never been the one in the crosshairs. But the night's not over yet, and it would be a shame for you to miss out on the best part of the evening."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And what might that be?"

Victor's eyes sparkled with excitement. "The dessert buffet and dancing, of course! It's standing tradition to end the awards gala with a grand finale of sweets and a big swanky band. Let me be your guide?”

You hesitated for a moment, but after all the tension, some lighthearted fun sounded perfect, and you knew conversation always seemed to flow easily with him.

"I'd love that," you replied with a genuine smile. "Lead the way!"

Victor offered his arm, and you took it, allowing him to guide you through the crowd towards the adjacent ballroom. As you walked, he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear.

"I must say, you handled yourself admirably back there," he murmured. "Not many could navigate the Hansen family drama with such grace."

You smiled at Victor, grateful for his kind words. "I'm just glad I didn't make things worse," you admitted. "I felt like I was walking on eggshells there for a while."

“No, nothing close to that. You were effortlessly charming,” he said in a low tone that shot butterflies through your stomach. "Now this is more like it," he added in a lighter tone as you entered the second ballroom.

The space had been converted into a lavish dessert paradise, with elaborate displays of cakes, pastries, and confections artfully arranged on tiered stands and elegant tables. The live band was set up on a stage at one end of the room, already playing a jazzy tune that had several couples swaying on the dance floor.

"Shall we start with something sweet or take a sweep across the dance floor?" he asked.

You hesitated, torn between the allure of the desserts and the infectious energy of the music.

"Let's start with something sweet," you decided, eyeing the tempting array of desserts. "We can build up our energy for dancing."

Victor grinned, leading you towards a particularly enticing display of chocolate creations. "Excellent choice. I always say, life's too short to skip dessert."

As you perused the options, Victor kept up a steady stream of witty commentary, pointing out particularly intriguing confections and sharing amusing anecdotes about past galas. His easy charm and genuine warmth helped you relax, the tension from earlier in the evening slowly melting away.

Having each chosen a few bite-sized treats, Victor guided you toward a more quiet corner to enjoy your selections. As you savored a delicate chocolate mousse, you couldn't help but notice the way Victor's eyes lingered on you, his gaze warm and appreciative.

“You really do look stunning tonight," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours. "That dress is exquisite on you."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his compliment. "Thank you," you replied, smoothing your hand over the shimmering fabric. "It was a bit of a splurge, but Maggie insisted."

Victor chuckled. "Well, remind me to thank Maggie later. She has impeccable taste."

One compliment was not a problem. But two and now three didn’t seem to keep things in the professional friendship area that you felt it should firmly stay in, especially since…

Hadn’t he been wearing a wedding band earlier today? Wasn’t he married? Maybe he had been divorced. But maybe he really only meant Maggie had impeccable taste. Because she did.

That was all this was. You were getting carried away - this man was not flirting with you.

“Didn’t you say I couldn’t miss the dancing tonight?” you asked a moment later.

Victor's eyes lit up at your suggestion. "Indeed I did. Shall we?" He offered his hand with a flourish.

You placed your hand in his, allowing him to lead you onto the dance floor. The band had just started a new song, a lively swing number that had couples twirling and laughing all around you.

Victor proved to be an excellent dancer, guiding you through the steps with confidence and grace. His hand on your waist was warm and steady, but nothing more than that, and you found yourself relaxing into the rhythm of the music.

As you spun and swayed to the music, you found yourself relaxing into the moment, your earlier concerns fading away. Victor's easy smile and gentle teasing kept you laughing, and you realized you were genuinely enjoying yourself.

You caught glimpses of familiar faces - Maggie and Claude swaying together near the edge of the crowd, Robert Hansen chatting animatedly with a group of industry bigwigs by the bar, Dr. Rossi, Aaron Lang, even your Nexus CEO and thankfully no Amilla.

But there was no sign of Lloyd either.

Not that you needed to care.

The song transitioned into a slower, more romantic melody.

Victor's hand on your waist seemed to tighten ever so slightly, and you worried he might try to pull you closer. Your mind raced, trying to figure out how to extricate yourself without causing a scene if he did.

But then a familiar voice carved through the music.

"Mind if I cut in?"

You turned to see Lloyd standing there, his expression unreadable. His blue eyes met yours, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

Victor's smile tightened, but he stepped back with practiced grace. "Of course," he said smoothly, though you detected a hint of disdain in his voice. "I’ll find you again for the next dance." He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it and melting into the crowd.

Before you could protest, Lloyd had taken Victor's place, one hand on your waist and the other clasping yours. His touch was firm but not forceful, and you found yourself instinctively following his lead as he guided you into the dance.

"I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything," Lloyd said, his voice low and tinged with something you couldn't quite identify. Sarcasm? Concern?

You shook your head. "Not at all," you replied, trying to keep your tone neutral. "Victor was just being friendly."

Lloyd's eyebrow quirked slightly. "Friendly. Right."

You bristled at his implication. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Lloyd's eyes flickered over your shoulder, presumably to where Victor had disappeared into the crowd. "Nothing. Just be careful around him. His 'friendliness' has a tendency to blur professional lines."

You frowned, unsure how to respond. Part of you wanted to defend Victor, but you couldn't help but wonder if Lloyd's warning held some truth. You'd had your own doubts about Victor's intentions, after all.

Still, you didn’t need Lloyd of all people nosing in.

"I can take care of myself," you said finally, your voice firm.

Lloyd's eyes snapped back to yours, a hint of surprise in them. "I don't doubt that," he said, his voice softer than you expected. “Like I said, just be careful.”

He said nothing for a moment, guiding you through the steps of the slow dance with surprising grace. You were acutely aware of his hand on your waist, the warmth of his palm seeping through the fabric of your dress.

"I wanted to apologize," Lloyd said suddenly, his voice low and surprisingly sincere. "For earlier. My father can be challenging."

You blinked, caught off guard by his unexpected apology. "Oh. It's... it's alright. Family dynamics can be complicated."

A wry smile tugged at the corner of Lloyd's mouth. "That's certainly one way to put it." He paused, his blue eyes searching your face. "I hope it didn't make you uncomfortable. You shouldn’t be a pawn in his games.”

“Is that all I am?” you bristled. You had wanted to be more sympathetic, but his assertion that you were only a pawn irked at you.

Lloyd's eyes widened slightly, his grip on your waist tightening. "No," he said, his voice low and intense. "Christ, that's not what I meant."

You held his gaze, challenging him. "Then what did you mean?"

He sighed, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. "My father has a way of using people to make a point. Especially to me. He’s masterfully good at it. I didn't want you caught in the crossfire of our complicated relationship."

You softened slightly at his words, recognizing the genuine concern behind them. "I appreciate that," you said carefully. "But I'm not some delicate flower that needs protection. I can handle myself in difficult situations."

A ghost of a smile played at Lloyd's lips. "I'm beginning to see that," he murmured.

The two of you fell silent for a moment, swaying to the music.

As you moved together on the dance floor, you couldn't help but notice how effortlessly Lloyd led you through the steps. His movements were smooth and confident, a stark contrast to the tension you'd sensed from him earlier in the evening. The warmth of his hand on your waist and the gentle pressure of his fingers intertwined with yours sent an unexpected thrill through you.

"You're a good dancer," you said, breaking the silence.

Lloyd's lips quirked into a half-smile. "Years of practice. My mother insisted on ballroom lessons when I was younger."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by this glimpse into his past. "Really? I wouldn't have pegged you for the ballroom type."

He chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

Your eyes met his, and for a moment you had the wild thought that he could be your masked man. Your mind raced back to that conversation with him on the dance floor, his refusal to ask or answer boring questions, and so you’d gone for a bold punch.

“What's your biggest regret?”

“My biggest regret is not taking more risks when I was younger. The kind that make your heart race and your palms sweat. The kind that could change everything.”

One question, and you would know…

“What's your biggest regret?"

He stiffened, and your heart leapt.

That had to mean…

“Fuck,” he cursed, “asking you to dance five minutes ago.”

You laughed at his annoyed but light tone, but your heart sunk back down. It didn’t fall, because you didn’t want it to be Lloyd. You were just mildly disappointed, the prospect of discovering who he was delayed. Similar builds, they both could dance, and Lloyd certainly had a mustache, but that was it apparently.

“Not all of us had ballroom lessons, okay?”

“It’s what all the WASP-y moms make their kids do. Cotillion and all that bullshit.”

“On some level, I knew it was still something that happened, but you’re the first person I’ve ever heard firsthand knowledge of it from, so I did kind of think it was only something they put in tv and movies for the plot.”

He laughed. “I don’t know, pumpkin, maybe you’re part of my plot. Things can get pretty magical at a PR conference.”

His tone was absolutely rank with so much sarcasm that you couldn’t help but laugh as well.

"You look nice, by the way," he said. His eyes flickered down to your mother's necklace, then back up to meet your gaze. "I like the necklace."

It seemed genuine. So you responded with a simple, “Thanks.”

A few moments later the song ended, and you split apart, but for a beat, neither of you moved beyond that, caught in a strange limbo. The air between you felt charged, filled with unspoken words and conflicting emotions.

Then, as if snapping out of a trance, Lloyd cleared his throat. "I should..." he gestured vaguely towards the bar.

"Right," you nodded.

It seemed like he might say something more, but then his eyes flickered to something over your shoulder and his jaw tightened.

You turned to see what had caught his attention and found Victor making his way towards you, two flutes of champagne in hand.

When you turned back to glance at Lloyd, he was already gone. You shrugged it off.

"I believe I was promised another dance," Victor said smoothly as he approached, offering you one of the glasses.

“Yes, of course!” you responded, taking the glass he handed you.

“Or we could take these to the terrace and get some fresh air,” he suggested.

“That actually sounds perfect,” you said, giving him a grateful smile.

Victor led you through the crowd towards the terrace doors, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. As you stepped out into the cool night air, you felt some of the tension from the evening begin to dissipate. The terrace overlooked a beautifully manicured garden, softly lit by strategically placed lanterns.

"Much better," Victor said, taking a sip of his champagne. "It was getting a bit stuffy in there, don't you think?"

You nodded, leaning against the stone balustrade and looking out over the gardens. "It's beautiful out here," you murmured, taking in the twinkling lights and the sweet scent of night-blooming flowers.

Victor moved to stand beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. "So," he said, his voice low and intimate, "what did Hansen’s heir apparent want with you?”

You tensed slightly at his proximity and the tone of his question. "Just to dance," you replied carefully, taking a sip of champagne. "And to apologize for the awkwardness at dinner."

Victor raised an eyebrow. "How magnanimous of him," he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Lloyd Hansen isn't exactly known for his apologies."

You turned to face him, studying his expression. There was something in his eyes - a glint of curiosity, perhaps even jealousy? - that made you uneasy.

"People can surprise you," you said neutrally, trying to steer the conversation away from Lloyd.

Victor tutted at your response and cocked his head to the side.

You frowned, feeling a flicker of annoyance at his attitude. "I don’t say that with wide eyes and rose-colored glasses. I'm not some naive intern."

Victor held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I didn't mean to imply that you were," he said, his tone softening. "I apologize if it came across that way. I just... I worry about you getting caught up in the Hansen family drama. It can be all-consuming."

You sighed, taking another sip of champagne. "I appreciate your concern, Victor, but I can handle myself. I'm not looking to get involved in anyone's drama - I'm here to do my job and build my career."

Victor nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. "Of course. And you're doing an excellent job of that, by the way. You've made quite an impression on everyone here."

You felt a flush of pride at his words, but also a twinge of wariness. Victor's compliments, while flattering, were starting to feel a bit too effusive.

Victor moved closer, his eyes glinting in the soft light of the terrace. "You've made quite an impression on me," he murmured, his voice low and husky. He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your bare arm.

You tensed at his touch, a mixture of unease and surprise coursing through you. "Victor, I..."

But he pressed on, seemingly oblivious to your discomfort. "You're not just intelligent, you know. You're absolutely captivating." His hand moved to your waist, pulling you slightly closer. The scent of his cologne, which had seemed pleasant earlier, now felt cloying and overwhelming.

You took a step back. "I'm flattered, really, but I think you've misunderstood. I'm not interested in anything beyond a professional relationship."

You tensed as Victor moved closer, his hand sliding to your lower back. "Come now," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "I’m not looking for a relationship. We're both adults here. No need to play coy."

You tried to step back again, but his arm snaked around your waist, holding you in place. Your heart raced, a mixture of fear and anger coursing through you.

"Victor, please," you said firmly, pushing against his chest. "I'm not interested. This isn't appropriate."

But he remained undeterred. His fingers trailed up your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "We have such amazing chemistry," he purred. "Don't tell me you haven't felt it too."

You glanced towards the terrace doors, hoping to catch someone's eye, but the party inside continued on, oblivious to your predicament.

Victor leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Think about it," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "We could slip away right now. No one would even notice we're gone."

You tried to lean away, but found yourself trapped between his body and the stone balustrade. "Victor, please," you said firmly, pressing your hands against his chest. "No. This isn't appropriate."

But he seemed oblivious to your discomfort, his hand sliding to your lower back, pulling you flush against him. "Don't be so uptight," he chided softly. "Everyone has a bit of fun at conferences."

Your skin crawled at his touch, your heart racing with a mix of fear and anger. You glanced towards the terrace doors again, but still no one, only music and laughter and clinking glasses pouring out the doors.

Victor's other hand moved up, his fingers trailing along your neck. Your skin crawled at his touch as he leaned in, clearly intending to kiss you. You whimpered, struggling against him, and turning your face away.

He chuckled and his lips landed on your throat, hot and wet and paralyzing.

Then suddenly, Victor's oppressive presence was pulled back. Your eyes flew open to see Lloyd forcefully trying to yank Victor back by his shoulder.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Lloyd snarled, his blue eyes flashing dangerously.

But Victor was stronger than he seemed, and he was still clutching at you, quickly recovering from Lloyd's sudden appearance. "This is none of your business, Hansen," he spat.

"Like hell it isn't," Lloyd growled.

The three of your struggled for another moment before Lloyd landed a punch to Victor’s face and was finally able to tear the man away from you, the last point of contact his strong clutch to the side of your neck.

Once free, you backed away and Lloyd positioned himself between you and Victor, his stance protective. "She clearly told you no. Or are you too drunk to understand basic consent?"

You continued to back away, and you could already feel tears of humiliation and anger trailing down your cheeks, though you didn’t know when you’d started to cry.

Victor's face contorted with anger. "You don't know what you’re talking about, you spoiled, corporate nepo prince.”

You took advantage of Lloyd and Victor's heated argument to slip away, your heart pounding in your chest. As you retreated, their angry voices faded into the background noise of the gala. You darted through the terrace doors, blinking as you re-entered the bright ballroom.

The cheerful music and laughter felt jarring after what had just transpired. You ducked your head down and weaved through the crowd, desperately trying to avoid drawing attention to yourself.

As you neared the main doors, you spotted a discreet side entrance marked "Staff Only." Without hesitation, you slipped through it, finding yourself in a dimly lit service corridor. The stark fluorescent lighting and utilitarian decor was a stark contrast to the opulence of the ballroom and a blessed escape from the cacophony of people at the party.

You rushed down the corridor, your heels clicking rapidly on the polished floor. Your mind raced as you tried to process what had just happened, the nice night turned nightmare.

You turned a corner and found yourself facing a bank of elevators. Without thinking, you jabbed at the call button repeatedly, desperate to put as much distance between yourself and the afterparty as possible. When the doors finally slid open, you stumbled inside, pressing the button for your floor with shaking hands.

As the elevator began to ascend, you leaned against the wall, closing your eyes and taking deep, steadying breaths. The tears you'd been holding back began to flow freely now that you were alone. You angrily wiped them away, smearing your carefully applied makeup.

The elevator dinged, announcing your arrival at your floor, and you nearly ran down the hallway. It took your unsteady hands longer than usual to get your door open, but once you managed it, you flung yourself inside, and then leaned against it, letting out a sob as you sunk to the floor.

The events on the terrace replayed in your mind, and you felt a wave of nausea wash over you. Victor's unwanted advances, the fear you'd felt when he wouldn't let go, the humiliation of needing to be rescued… and by Lloyd Hansen, out of anyone who could have found you… A stranger would have been so much better.

You put your hand to your chest, trying to steady yourself, but then your breath hitched and another wave of emotion crashed over you.

Somewhere in the commotion of the struggles and your escape, you lost your mother’s necklace.

next chapter: coming January 13

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Once Upon a Time - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 3 (Final)

Retold fairytales featuring the JJK men! This is Sleeping Beauty featuring Sukuna! After your parents are killed, leaving you as the young queen, you hire the mysterious and violent Sukuna to be your Captain of the Guard to protect you from an evil fairy’s curse. You’re in love with him, but he just keeps refusing you! 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Read Gojo x Cinderella Here!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Reader as Sleeping Beauty, Sukuna as her Captain of the Guard. Oral sex. Rough sex. Creampie. 

Any feedback is adored! Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @benkeibear.

Sitting on your throne, Sukuna standing guard at your side, you listen as your advisers try to convince you not to go looking for the old fairy. 

“Surely she’ll give up now!” one of them says. “The curse didn’t work!”

Sukuna gives him a withering stare. “We don’t know that the curse is over. We don’t know what will happen if she’s pricked by a needle again.”

You nod. “If I just fall asleep again, that’s no problem, since we know how to fix it.”

Sukuna grins. “I’m ready to perform my duty at anytime.”

The other advisers look away from him awkwardly. 

“The problem is,” you continue, “when the good fairy altered the curse, we don’t know if that was a one time deal, of it it applies to every time I touch a needle. I can’t risk finding out.”

The lady adviser looks at Sukuna. “And you believe the old fairy will try to kill her in more conventional ways now?”

“She will. And I’ll protect the queen, but it would be much simpler for all of us if I just go kill the old bitch.”

The lady adviser nods. “I see. The two of you have my support. We will look after the kingdom in your absence.”

The other two advisers seem to bristle at that statement. “This is a terrible idea!” one of them shouts, looking directly at you. “You have no heir! If you’re killed on this fool’s errand, the kingdom will be thrown into chaos!”

“I won’t be killed,” you say firmly. “Sukuna will be with me. I’m confident that he will keep me alive.”

The third adviser throws his hands up as if in dismay. “You don’t even know where to look! The woods are vast and sprawling! How will you find the old fairy?”

Sukuna speaks up again. “I know someone who can help with that. They’re a bit of a fairy themself.” 

That piques your interest. Sukuna has never revealed anything about his life before he met you, so even hearing about an acquaintance of his is new territory. “Let’s go see this person you know,” you tell him. 

No one else objects as the two of you prepare to leave. You wear a simpler dress, something easy to move in and won’t have your tailor in tears when you return with it dirty and ripped. You pack a bag with dried foods, water, and some basic supplies, and then the two of you head out. 

The walk through the town is arduous. So many of the people have somehow already heard about your brief time asleep and are happy to see you up and about. You don’t know how news traveled so fast, but you’re happy you can put the people at ease. 

Once you reach the edge of the woods, Sukuna steps in, seemingly with no thought or care for the dangers. All your life, you’ve been told to stay away from the woods, that great beasts live there, as well as old magic and wicked fairies and all manner of horrible things. So to see someone simply walk on in without worry surprises you.  

He turns to look at you. “Getting cold feet, princess?”

You shake your head. “Not at all. I just thought you might escort me like a proper gentleman,” you say, stepping in after him. 

“So you want me to hold your hand?”

“No! I’m perfectly fine walking on my own!”

He gives you an irritated look. “Are you really acting shy about holding hands after I’ve already fucked you?”

You feel your face heating up. “Must you speak so crudely?”

“You like when I speak crudely,” he says. 

You stare at him, at his strange tattoos. “You are an odd man. Where do you even come from?”

He’s walking a few steps in front of you now, leading you deeper into the forest. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

For the next hour, the two of you don’t talk much, only occasional questions, until Sukuna suddenly stops and holds one hand up. “We’re in their territory. They’ll be along as soon as they sense me.”

You notice the air seems much colder here, in this part of the woods. There are even a few icicles hanging from some of the upper branches of trees! 

The two of you only walk a few more minutes before a person seems to appear out of nowhere, standing a few feet ahead. From here, you can’t tell if they’re a man or a woman, but they’re clearly beautiful. They’re wearing strange robes, of material you can’t identify, and their hair is a shiny silver color that glints in the patches of sunlight breaking through the trees. 

They look at you with a bored expression before turning their gaze to Sukuna. Then they immediately rush forward and drop into a bow before him. 

“Lord Sukuna! I welcome you to my home. What can I do to serve you?”

You look at the newcomer in shock, then turn to Sukuna. “Lord?”

He waves his hand dismissively. “A remnant of a different life.” Then he looks down at the bowing figure. “Uraume, you know these woods well. Do you know where the one called the ‘old fairy’ lives?”

Uraume looks up before slowly standing. “I have an idea of where she resides, though I’m not certain. I can go and confirm if you like.”

Sukuna regards Uraume with a complicated expression, and lowers his voice slightly. “The magic you have here, is it enough to deal with the old fairy if she attacks you?”

Uraume blinks, seeming surprised. “I appreciate your concern, my lord. But I won’t engage with her. She uses old magic, the kind baked into the origins of this world. I will only confirm her presence and return here.”

Sukuna nods. “Be careful. Don’t leave me alone here.”

Uraume’s cold eyes slide over to you. “If I may say, my lord, it looks like you aren’t alone.”

Sukuna glances at you as well, a look of irritation on his face. “I’ve softened too much. Killing the old fairy should improve my mood.”

Uraume gives another quick bow, and then they leave. You approach Sukuna, feeling like he’s suddenly a different person. You feel like you need to talk, to start a conversation, anything to call him back to you. 

“How do you know Uraume?” you ask. 

“They’re a former servant of mine,” he answers, not looking you in the face. Even his tone of voice seems different. 

“Servant? Are you… some kind of royalty? From another kingdom?”

He laughs. “I’ve been called a king, but I’m not royalty.”

You frown. “What does that mean?”

He looks at you finally, and his gaze is so cold, it’s frightening. What happened to him? “You’re asking too many questions. My patience is growing thin.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say, your voice weaker than you intended. “I didn’t mean to pry. I just thought… we were growing closer…”

His harsh gaze softens slightly. “Don’t apologize. Seeing Uraume again has reminded me of who I once was. And I slipped back into my old mannerisms.”

“You talk as if you’re a different person entirely now,” you say, stepping closer. 

He gives you that familiar grin, and you feel your unease begin to fade. “I am, princess.”

Uraume returns a few minutes later, much faster than you expected. They look as if they never even left, totally calm, not a single hair out of place. It doesn’t appear that they were in any danger. 

They bow before Sukuna again, and you realize this makes you uncomfortable. As a ruler yourself, you’ve never demanded anyone bow to you, at least not like this. A slight inclination of the head as you pass has always been perfectly acceptable, or nothing at all. What kind of king was Sukuna if his subjects felt the need to bow so deeply and so quickly? 

“I’ve found her, my lord.”

“Good. Lead the way,” Sukuna replies, and Uraume rises smoothly to their feet. 

As you and Sukuna follow them deeper into the woods, your curiosity gets the better of you again. “They don’t mind coming with us? We’ll be putting them in danger.”

Sukuna scoffs. “Uraume has never minded danger for my sake. And by some cruel joke of fate, they’re much more powerful than me right now.”

The way he says it, as if that wasn’t always the case, only makes you more curious. Uraume is clearly a fairy of the woods. Even you can sense the magic coming from them. How could a mere human man ever be more powerful than that? But you keep the question to yourself for now. The distance in Sukuna’s eyes earlier still worries you. 

**************************

Sukuna walks a few steps ahead to fall in pace with Uraume. The former servant glances at him, and it’s obvious they feel a measure of discomfort not walking behind him. 

“The old fairy,” Sukuna says, “How strong is she?”

Uraume pulls a low branch back, keeping it from scraping Sukuna. “I’ve heard she is physically weak, but her magical power easily dwarfs my own. She’s cunning, and has many tricks to rely on.”

Sukuna feels a rush of excitement. He hasn’t fought a powerful opponent in so very long. He’s smiling as he says, “So she could easily kill me.”

Uraume apparently realizes what he’s thinking. “She should be quite stimulating, my lord.”

Suddenly Sukuna remembers the woman walking a few steps behind, fragile and delicate, the old fairy’s main target. He should feel concern, perhaps even fear for her safety. But the thrill of the coming battle has overrided all other feelings. 

“Uraume, I need you to vow something for me.”

They look at him curiously. “Of course, Lord Sukuna. Whatever you wish.”

He glances back at the queen. “Protect her. From everything. No matter who or what you have to fight, let no harm come to her.”

Uraume looks over their shoulder at the woman. “I vow it, my lord. It seems she has become important to you.”

Sukuna shrugs. “She makes the time pass faster.”

Uraume says nothing more, and soon they pass into a section of the woods much darker than the rest. It’s definitely still daytime, the sun is certainly still up, but here in these woods it’s dark as night. The trees grow taller, closer together, like silent guards. Their branches are gnarled, their foliage mostly absent except for patches of brown. No flowers bloom here, and the air crackles with ancient magic. 

Sukuna sticks close to the queen, who is doing her best to show no fear, while Uraume leads them on, seeming cool and calm as always. Up ahead, he spots a castle. Unlike the queen’s well-kept (if relatively modest) castle, this one is dilapidated. Dark, twisting vines cover the place like a veil, and a strange creeping fog floats around their legs. It’s a place designed to strike fear into the hearts of men. But Sukuna only feels anticipation. 

The vines part as they reach the castle, as if they’re sentient. The heavy wooden door opens, and a figure clad in black robes emerges from the shadows. From back here, it’s hard to make out the details of her face, but Sukuna can feel it: this is the old fairy.  

All the fairies were given simple titles. The good fairy, the ice fairy (the name given to Uraume), the wood fairy, etc. And Sukuna assumed the old fairy was simply, well, old. He did not expect her to be positively ancient, probably older than this world itself. She looks like any elderly lady, but he can feel the old and powerful magic radiating from her. 

She looks at him, her eyes focusing on him instead of the queen. 

“Why are you here, interloper?” she asks, her voice a crackle of dark energy. 

Sukuna raises an eyebrow at that. “You know who I am?”

She laughs humorlessly. “Anyone with true power knows who you are, Fallen One. Tell me, what has it been like, cursed to live a thousand lives as a weak and powerless human?”

Sukuna grins at her. “It’s not been so bad. Power comes in many forms. I’ve made due with what I can grasp.”

The old fairy finally looks at the queen behind him. “You were foolish enough to bring her to me? Or are you hoping for some sort of trade?”

“I came to take your fucking head, you decrepit old bitch!”

Sukuna doesn’t miss the flicker of fear that passes over the old fairy’s face. It’s amusing that he can inspire such fear even in this weakened state. 

He lunges forward, drawing his sword. The vines move to ensnare him, slithering about like snakes, trying to wrap around his limbs. His combat instincts resurface like muscle memory, his body dodging before his slow human brain can even process the attacks. 

As he cuts through the vines and closes in on the fairy, a great burst of green light erupts from the ground, aimed straight for him. He avoids the light, not sure what sort of attack it is but knowing better than to let it hit him. 

He glances back, sees that Uraume is beside the queen and has formed a shield of ice around the two of them, then refocuses on the fairy. 

Dodging those bursts of light, he rushes forward at incredible speed, aiming his sword forward. He realizes he’s smiling, enjoying the thrill of battle as the vines and green light blasts try to impede him. The old fairy makes a motion with her hands, trying to conjure something to defend herself with, but she’s too slow for Sukuna’s incredible speed. 

The blade pierces her body, running straight through her chest like a hot knife through butter. She looks up at him, and the lack of terror on her face tells him this is not over. It was way too easy.  

A giant burst of the green light bursts from her body, and he jumps back in time to avoid it, pulling his sword out of her in the process. He watches as the old fairy’s shape contorts, shifting, growing. It’s bathed in the green light, creating a shield he can’t touch. 

Within minutes, the human-shaped old fairy has transformed into a massive black dragon, its wings sprawled out behind it as it roars at the sky. The green light glows from its open mouth, and it begins walking toward Sukuna. 

Any man would be struck by terror, would flee for his life before such darkness and raw power. But Sukuna is not just any man. His heart is pounding, his adrenaline flaring within this weak human body, his soul remembering battles from many lifetimes ago. Ah yes, the person he used to be would have crushed this pitiful dragon within seconds.

The dragon rises up, its long neck extending skyward, as its mouth opens wider and a beam of green light shoots out. Sukuna moves to dodge, wondering if he could tank a direct hit, when a wall of ice appears before him. The ice shatters, but absorbs the bulk of the attack. Sukuna looks back at Uraume. In another life, he would have scolded them for interfering, but he’s different now. He’s a human fighting a supernaturally powerful ancient being. He wonders idly if the people who fought him so long ago felt the way he does now. 

If so, they owe him some gratitude. Because he hasn’t felt this kind of exhilaration since-

His thoughts are interrupted by another beam of green light, this one obvious enough for him to dodge before the dragon even opens its mouth. He’s beginning to read its moves, to predict what it will do. For all the old fairy’s power, she clearly hasn’t seen much actual combat. She probably scares off most threats before having to launch a single attack. Compared to Sukuna’s battle sense, she’s practically a newborn babe when it comes to fighting. 

And that is her undoing. She can’t follow or anticipate Sukuna’s movements, and so he gets above and behind her by dodging, weaving, and jumping off the wall of the castle beside her. He swings his sword down, chopping off the dragon’s head with one brutal swipe. 

Green light explodes from the dragon’s neck, and engulfs Sukuna as he stands nearby. It doesn’t hurt, but instead seems to be entering his body. It’s the old fairy’s power! It’s transferring to him! 

He stands completely still, letting the power flow into his body, filling him. It feels so good! So… familiar! 

He laughs loudly as his body glows. Uraume and the queen step closer. 

“Look, Uraume!” he calls, his voice sounding thunderous. “Real power! After all these lifetimes of weakness, to feel power like this flowing through me again… I’ve become myself!”

Uraume bows low. “I am pleased to see it, my lord!”

Sukuna’s gaze slides over to the other person in the woods with them - the queen of a tiny, insignificant kingdom. He’d almost forgotten she’s here. She’s not bowing, which irritates him. And she’s staring at him as his newfound power swirls around, warm and energized air whipping her hair and dress around her. In her eyes is not fear, but sadness. Ridiculous. She should fear him like all the other pitiful humans in this world. After all, their new king has arrived. 

“Insolent woman,” he says, directing a thin beam of the green light in her direction. He’d intended to shoot it very close to her as a warning, but a sudden wall of ice appears, blocking it. 

Sukuna looks sharply at Uraume. “You would get in my way?”

Uraume looks troubled, a rare expression on their usually cold face. “I am fulfilling my vow, Lord Sukuna. You made me swear no harm would come to her.”

Sukuna scoffs. “That was when I was weak. Human. I’m back to my old self now. I release you from your vow.”

Uraume is still bowing low to the ground. “My lord… you know you will always have my loyalty above all else, but you seemed quite desperate for her to be protected.”

Sukuna looks back at the woman, realizing she’s moved closer. She’s pressing against the force of his power to approach him. What could possess her to be so foolish? He decides to make it easy for her, by moving to her himself. His motion is so fast, it must seem to her like he teleported directly in front of her. 

Her eyes are wet with tears. “What’s happened to you?” she asks, her voice fragile. She reaches up one hand as if to touch his face. The nerve of this weak creature! 

He knocks her hand away from him and gives her the sort of glare that had monsters and men alike begging for their lives. “I’ve returned to my former self, to who I was meant to be. Your lack of fear and respect annoys me.”

She shakes her head, and the tears around her eyes glitter like stars. “I don’t fear you. I fear losing you.”

He narrows his red eyes. “I am not yours to lose.” 

She looks so hurt as she reaches up again. “Sukuna, please, I need you!”

He grabs her wrist, such a frail little thing. He could snap it with a touch, reduce her to a wailing lump of flesh at his feet. But he suddenly remembers the night before, the way he held her in his arms, the taste of her skin, the way she felt beneath him, the way she clenched his cock. 

Such things should mean nothing to him. He’s had thousands of women across his many lifetimes. But he releases her wrist and says, “Bow, and I might keep you as a concubine.”

Her eyes widen. Is that heartbreak within their depths? He almost grins. He can play with her as much as he likes later, after he establishes who the true ruler is.  

The hand he just released moves up again, but this time, her open palm strikes his face. The slap was so weak and unexpected, he didn’t sense its approach. For him, it was nothing. But the audacity! The insult! He looks at her, ready to rip her limb from limb, but he freezes when he sees her face. 

She’s wearing that haughty, defiant look that he enjoyed so much, crossing her arms as she says, “No, you bow!”

The whole thing is so shocking, he doesn’t know whether to laugh or slaughter her instantly. 

“You called me your queen!” she says. “You said you would protect me! You said I’m yours! If that’s true, then you’re mine as well. I won’t give you up so easily, even to your former self!”

He stares at her, at the fierce determination in her eyes, and he’s caught between the desire to break her for good or to pull her into his arms. His past self warring with the man he’s become over these long lifetimes. 

“Foolish woman. You have no idea who I am. Even the most powerful creatures trembled before me!”

“I don’t care,” she says. “That person you were, that king or ‘fallen one’ or whatever you called yourself… he can fuck off!”

Sukuna looks at her, at this weak little human who has somehow, against all odds, managed to bend him to her will. He remembers what he told the old fairy. “Power comes in many forms.” He hadn’t realized in that moment that the most powerful thing in all the worlds is something he’d long ago dismissed as worthless. 

He clenches his fist, feeling the power course through him for a final time, committing the sensation to memory. Then, he releases it. It flows out of his body like a waterfall, pouring into the world around him. And just like that, he’s human again. Weak. Normal. 

His queen watches the power dissipate, then wraps her arms around his neck. 

“I hope you know what I gave up for you,” he says. 

She leans in closer, kissing him as she says, “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

************************

You untie the laces of your nightdress, letting the silky sheer fabric fall from your shoulders and pool on the floor, revealing that you wore nothing underneath it. Sukuna’s eyes rake over your form from his place on the bed, sitting on the edge of it, already undressed, thighs open invitingly. 

As you step over to him, you look over his tattoos. “So they just appear on your body? In every new life?”

He follows your gaze to the black lines across his body. “They usually appear when I hit puberty. That’s when my memories of past lives come back as well. They’re probably supposed to be part of the curse, but I like them.”

“I like them too,” you say, tracing over one of them with your fingertip. 

“You always do,” he says with a strange smile. 

What does that mean? You decide to leave the question for now. There are others you want to ask. 

“So,” you say as he pulls you into his lap, “you were evil in your original lifetime?”

He grins as one of his hands slides around your body to squeeze your breast. “I’ve been evil in every lifetime, princess.”

You don’t mind him still calling you that, especially in intimate moments like this. You smile, planting quick kisses along his jaw and neck. “Really? What kinds of things did you do?”

“I killed a lot of people. More people than you can imagine.”

“Did they deserve it?”

His grin fades slightly. “Some did. Most didn’t.”

“Why did you kill them then?” 

“Because I could,” he says simply, looking you in the eyes. “Does that bother you?”

You think for a moment. “No, because you’re not that person anymore. And if he ever tries to take over again, I’ll chase him away.”

He watches you slip out of his lap and down to your knees in front of him. You maintain eye contact while reaching one hand up to grasp the huge cock standing at attention between his legs. You slide your hand up and down, just getting a feel for the sheer size of it. You lean forward and kiss the tip, sweetly, like it’s a cuddly pet, then lick the clear fluid that smeared over your lips. 

Looking up at him, you’re not surprised that he’s impossible to fluster in moments like this. Having memories of all his past lives means he probably remembers having his dick sucked thousands of times. But there is another way to get a reaction out of him. 

“I do hope you’ll dress appropriately for the royal wedding,” you say, just before taking almost his entire cock into your mouth, letting it slide down your throat. 

“Wedding?! Ah… fuck!” he groans, tossing his head back as you gag and sputter around his length. You’ve never done this before and you didn’t realize how hard it is to keep breathing while practically swallowing a massive cock. 

You pull away, stroking the shaft that’s now coated in your spit with one hand. “You’ll be king consort,” you say, then you extend your tongue and run it along the underside of his dick, from base to tip, one hand still stroking him while the other gently squeezes his balls. 

He looks down at you, his usual smug expression cracking just a little. “I don’t remember agreeing to marry you, princess.”

Your tongue is swirling around his tip. “Oh? I’m sure my advisers would prefer I marry a royal from a neighboring kingdom.”

Suddenly his hand is in your hair, pressing your head forward, effectively shoving his cock back into your mouth. You look up at him as he pushes into your throat again, choking you. “There,” he says in that achingly smooth voice of his, “you’re much cuter with that bratty mouth of yours full of my cock.”

You make a whimpering sound as you struggle to suck air in through your nose, and after a few seconds he releases you. While you pull back and catch your breath, he gives you an almost pouty look. “As if I’d let another man touch what’s mine.”

Grinning up at him as your hand goes back to work, you lick your messy lips and say, “Royal wedding it is, then.”

He sighs in defeat as you wrap your lips around him again. “I suppose I’ll do you the favor of marrying you,” he says as you move your head back and forth, letting his cock pump in and out of your warm mouth. “Be grateful. I’ve never married anyone in any of my previous lifetimes.”

This surprises you, and makes you feel heated to know you’ll be his first wife. His hand is in your hair again, gentle this time, just enough force to let you know he’s in control. And when he’s ready, he pulls you back so that only his tip remains in your mouth, and then shoots his load into it, coating the entire inside.  

The amount of it takes you by surprise, and you have to start swallowing quickly to avoid spilling any. Pity, you would have liked to savor it. 

He doesn’t offer his hand to help you to your feet. You’ll have to work on teaching him to be a gentleman. Instead he’s moving aside to give you room on the bed. When you climb on, he pushes you onto your back and positions himself between your sprawled legs. He reaches down with one hand and rubs over your slit with his thumb, checking your wetness, then drags your lower half into his lap. 

“Ready for me to turn this proud queen into a blubbering mess again?” he asks, his cock rubbing against your folds. 

You frown. “I did not blubber! I was practically uncon-“

His cock slides in, this time going all the way to the hilt on the first thrust, making you gasp as your eyes roll back and your body jerks. 

He nestles himself against your cervix, then pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in, making you cry out pathetically. “What were you saying, princess?”

You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Only stilted moans and garbled cries. He’s so big, and he’s going so deep, your mind is going blank just like before. 

“I like you best like this,” he says with a laugh, pounding into you ruthlessly. “So fucked out you can’t even think straight.”

His hands are on your hips, gripping tightly, moving your body as he pleases. “You like it right… here…!” he grunts, hitting a spot that makes your eyes go wide and your fists grip the sheets beneath you. Your mouth falls open, a strangled yell escaping you. Oh god, this is even better than last time! 

One of his hands moves over, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing firm circles into it, making your whole body tremble and tears fill your eyes. Is this going to be a regular thing now? Him making you completely fall apart on his cock? 

“There she is,” he says, watching you quiver and cry. “There’s my pretty princess. Not so haughty now, are you?”

The pleasure is so strong, so intense, you genuinely worry that you’ll lose your mind to it. But you look up at Sukuna, and you realize he’ll always bring you back. So you let go, let the pleasure take you, and cry out loudly as your climax wracks your body. 

“Good girl,” he says, pulling your upper half up from the bed and into his arms, holding you tightly as he fills your womb. 

As you come down from your high, locked in Sukuna’s strong arms, his cock still buried inside you, you realize that both of you had defeated your curses today. And maybe, you’ve both placed new curses on each other, that you’ll never be complete without each other, never experience such blinding pleasure, such love, if you’re ever torn apart. 

You wrap your exhausted arms around him, knowing you’ll never let him go, and he’ll never give you up. 

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

New Year's Eve

Hi guyss, and happy New Year to all of you wherever you are, I hope you enjoy this one-shot and have a great 2025 :)

The party buzzed with the energy of New Year’s Eve. Fairy lights wrapped around the walls, twinkling like stars against the dimmed glow of the candles. The air smelled faintly of champagne and laughter, and the soft strains of the band filled every corner.

I adjusted the hem of my sparkly dress, catching sight of myself in the mirrored wall. The sequins shimmered with every movement, casting small prisms of light that danced on the floor. I felt Lando’s eyes on me before I even turned around.

“If I had known you were going to steal the spotlight, I might have tried harder,” he teased as he approached. His voice was warm, carrying that unmistakable edge of playfulness.

I turned to face him and felt my breath catch. He stood there in a perfectly tailored suit, the crisp white shirt beneath unbuttoned just enough to hint at his effortless charm. His bowtie hung undone around his collar—a classic Lando touch that screamed mischief.

“Oh, please. Everyone here is looking at you,” I shot back, grinning. “Especially now that you’ve decided to forgo formal dressing protocols.”

He stepped closer, his smile widening as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Let them look,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “I’m only looking at you.”

My cheeks flushed, and I rolled my eyes to cover it. “Smooth, Norris.”

“I’ve had a year to perfect it,” he quipped, his grin widening into a cheeky smirk. “Speaking of…” His expression softened, and he took my hand, intertwining our fingers. “There’s no one else I’d rather go into 2025 with. You know that, right?”

My heart swelled at his words, and I looked up at him, seeing not just the cheeky racer everyone else knew but the man I’d fallen in love with. “You’re really going to make me cry before midnight, aren’t you?”

He laughed, pulling me closer. “Not my intention. But I’m taking it as a compliment.”

Before I could respond, a wave of excitement rippled through the crowd. The band quieted, and someone began counting down from thirty.

“Oh no,” I said, glancing at the clock on the far wall. “It’s happening.”

Lando’s grip on my hand tightened. “Better get ready, love. This is the big one.”

The countdown reached twenty. People all around us started gathering their loved ones, champagne flutes in hand and voices loud with anticipation. Lando pulled me even closer, his arms wrapping securely around my waist. I looped mine around his neck, gazing up at him as the seconds ticked away.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!” The crowd’s chant grew louder.

“You ready?” Lando asked, his forehead resting lightly against mine.

“Always,” I whispered.

“Three! Two! One!”

“Happy New Year!” The room erupted in cheers, the sound of popping champagne corks and celebratory whoops filling the air. But for a moment, everything else blurred into the background.

Lando tilted his head and kissed me, his lips warm and soft against mine. The kiss was sweet at first, unhurried, as if he wanted to savor the moment. But then it deepened, filled with all the unspoken love and passion we’d built over the past year. When we finally broke apart, the world seemed to rush back in with a roar, but all I could focus on was him.

“Happy New Year, love,” he murmured, brushing his thumb against my cheek.

“Happy New Year, Lando.”

Around us, the party continued in full swing. Couples danced, friends hugged, and laughter echoed through the room. But Lando kept me close, his arms still wrapped around me as if he couldn’t bear to let go.

“So,” he said after a moment, his eyes sparkling with mischief, “what’s your first wish for 2025?”

I pretended to think about it, biting back a smile. “More moments like this.”

“That’s doable,” he said, his grin widening. “But only if you promise me something.”

“What?”

“That you’ll keep stealing the spotlight. It’s my favorite thing about being with you.”

I laughed, shaking my head as I leaned up to kiss him again. The night stretched out ahead of us, full of endless possibilities and the promise of a new year. And with Lando by my side, I knew it was going to be unforgettable.

[kathlare]

tangled in love

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie and Lando take a moment to escape their busy lives and reconnect in a deeply romantic evening.

Wordcount: 1.5 k

Warnings: just fluff

full masterlist // request over here!

December 6th, 2024 - Yas Island, Abu Dhabi

Amelie lay sprawled across the plush bed of their hotel suite, her phone glowing softly in her hand. She had been scrolling aimlessly through Instagram, liking a few posts and replying to comments, but her mind wasn’t really in it. Lando had left hours ago for the drivers' dinner—a tradition that was strictly for the grid—and though she understood, she couldn’t help but miss him.

Her stomach growled, breaking the silence. —Should’ve ordered room service,— she muttered to herself, flipping onto her back and staring at the ceiling. Just as she debated whether to grab a snack, the sound of the door unlocking caught her attention.

—Lan?— she called out, sitting up and running a hand through her hair to smooth it down.

The door swung open to reveal Lando, still in the blue hoodie he had worn to the dinner, but now with a mischievous glint in his eye. —Hey, Ames,— he greeted, closing the door behind him and walking over to the bed. He leaned down, placing a kiss on her forehead. —Miss me?—

—Always,— she teased, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him closer. —How was it? Did you finally try sushi?—

Lando made a face. —Absolutely not. You know I don’t mess with raw fish. Besides, I had other plans.—

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. —Other plans?—

He straightened, a cheeky smile playing on his lips. —Yeah, but you need to get dressed first. Something nice. Like... drop-dead gorgeous nice.—

Amelie tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. —What are you up to, Norris?—

—Just trust me,— he said, his grin widening. —You’ve got an hour. And don’t worry about the details. I’ve got everything sorted.—

Her heart fluttered at the thought. Lando wasn’t usually this mysterious, and the anticipation only made her more excited. —Alright, Mr. Norris. You better not be overselling this,— she joked, sliding off the bed to head toward the closet.

An hour later, Amelie stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the delicate straps of her emerald-green dress. It hugged her figure perfectly, the color making her brown eyes pop. She added a touch of red lipstick for a bold finish, her golden earrings catching the light as she moved.

Lando knocked lightly on the bathroom door. —You ready, Ames?—

—Almost,— she called back, giving herself one last glance before opening the door. Lando stood there, his suit jacket now replaced with a crisp white shirt, the top few buttons undone, paired with tailored black trousers. His eyes widened slightly as he took her in, his lips curling into an appreciative smile.

—Damn, Ames,— he said, his voice low. —You’re gonna make it hard for me to concentrate tonight.—

She smirked, stepping closer. —That’s the point, isn’t it?—

He laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist. —Come on. Let’s go before I get too distracted.—

The drive was short, Lando keeping the destination a secret despite her persistent questioning. When they finally arrived, Amelie’s breath caught in her throat. They pulled up to a private terrace overlooking the sparkling coastline. The space was transformed into an intimate dining area, with fairy lights strung overhead and candles flickering softly on the table set for two. A violinist played softly in the background, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

—Lan…— she began, her voice barely above a whisper. —This is beautiful.—

Lando grinned, clearly pleased with her reaction. —Happy belated anniversary, Ames,— he said, taking her hand and leading her to the table.

Amelie turned to him, her eyes glistening. —You didn’t have to go all out like this.—

—Yes, I did,— he said firmly, pulling out her chair for her. —I’ve been so busy with work, and you deserve something special. Besides,— he added with a smirk, —I’m pretty sure I’ve got some making up to do.—

She laughed, sitting down and shaking her head. —You’re ridiculous. But I love you for it.—

—And I love you,— he replied easily, taking the seat across from her.

The dinner was exquisite, a mix of dishes tailored to their tastes. Lando had arranged for a Mexican-inspired appetizer as a nod to her heritage, followed by a classic British beef Wellington for the main course. The dessert—a decadent chocolate soufflé—came with a tiny sparkler that made Amelie laugh out loud.

As the night wore on, their conversation flowed effortlessly, as it always did. They reminisced about their first year together, the highs and lows, and the moment their relationship became public after his win in Miami.

—You were such a mess that day,— Amelie teased, sipping her wine. —Couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot.—

—Hey, I had just won my first race! And I got to kiss you in front of everyone. That’s a pretty good day in my book,— he countered, winking at her.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. —You’re lucky you’re cute.—

—Damn right I am,— he shot back, reaching across the table to take her hand. His expression softened, and he gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. —I mean it, Ames. This past year has been the best of my life. You’ve been my rock through everything, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.—

Her heart melted at his words. —Lan…— she began, her voice thick with emotion. —You don’t know how much that means to me.—

He stood up then, coming around the table to pull her into his arms. —You mean everything to me,— he murmured against her hair.

Amelie tilted her head up to look at him, a playful smile breaking through the tears threatening to fall. —Even when I steal your hoodies?—

—Especially then,— he said, chuckling. —You look better in them anyway.—

Lando led her to the open space near the edge of the terrace, the soft glow of fairy lights casting a magical aura around them. The violinist switched to a slow, melodic tune that made Amelie’s heart skip.

—Dance with me?— Lando whispered, his British accent laced with warmth as he extended his hand.

She glanced at him, biting her lip to keep from grinning too widely. —You sure about that? Last time you almost tripped over your own feet.—

He laughed, unbothered by her teasing. —I’ve been practicing. Besides, I only trip when I’m distracted. And tonight, I promise to focus on you.—

Her heart fluttered as she placed her hand in his, letting him guide her closer. His other hand found her waist, pulling her flush against him as they swayed gently to the music.

—See? No tripping so far,— he murmured, his lips brushing her temple.

—The night’s still young,— she teased, resting her head against his chest. She could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a comforting sound that made her feel completely at ease.

They moved together effortlessly, the world around them fading away. Lando tilted his head down, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. —You’re stunning tonight, Ames. I can’t stop looking at you.—

She tilted her head up to meet his gaze, her cheeks flushing. —You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Norris.—

He smirked, his fingers tracing small, lazy circles on her lower back. —Not so bad? I’m offended.—

—Fine. You’re very handsome. Happy?— she said with mock exasperation, though her smile gave her away.

—Getting there,— he replied, leaning in to brush his lips against hers. The kiss was slow, unhurried, a reflection of the quiet intimacy of the moment.

When they pulled back, Amelie rested her forehead against his, her voice barely above a whisper. —I love you, Lan. So much.—

His eyes softened, the cocky façade melting away. —I love you more, Ames. Always.—

The violinist’s song came to an end, but they stayed in each other’s arms, unwilling to break the spell. After a while, Lando glanced at the time and smirked. —Think it’s time we head back?—

—Only if you promise to keep being this romantic,— she replied, letting him take her hand again as they made their way to the car.

The ride back to the hotel was filled with soft laughter and stolen glances, Lando’s hand never leaving hers. When they finally stepped into their suite, the mood shifted slightly.

Amelie kicked off her heels, sighing in relief as she sank onto the couch. —Best surprise ever. You’ve officially outdone yourself.—

—Well, I had a lot of making up to do,— Lando said, his tone playful as he loosened the top buttons of his shirt.

She leaned back, her eyes sparkling. —You’re forgiven. For now.—

He crossed the room, stopping in front of her. —Only for now?—

—Depends on what you do next,— she quipped, arching a brow.

He grinned, his hands finding her waist as he pulled her up and onto his lap in one swift motion. Amelie let out a surprised laugh, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

—You’re impossible,— she said, though the fondness in her tone betrayed her.

—And you love it,— he shot back, his lips finding her neck.

Her breath hitched as he trailed soft kisses along her skin, his hands holding her firmly in place. She tangled her fingers in his curls, tilting her head to give him better access.

—Lan…— she whispered, her voice wavering slightly.

—Hmm?— he murmured against her neck, the vibration sending shivers down her spine.

—You’re gonna drive me crazy,— she managed, her fingers tightening in his hair.

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his blue eyes darkened with emotion. —That’s the idea, Ames.—

Their lips met in a heated kiss, all playful teasing forgotten as the room seemed to shrink around them. Time slowed, the only sound the mingling of their breaths as they lost themselves in each other.

The night stretched on, the world outside their suite forgotten. For Amelie, it was perfect—just the two of them, tangled up in love and laughter, in the city that had brought them together once more.

[hyperactively-me]

regency era!ghost x reader au (part 8, finale) warnings: allusions to smut, reminder: 18+ please

The morning of your wedding dawned clear and bright, the early light casting a soft, golden glow over the estate. You woke with a flutter of nerves and excitement, the reality of the day finally settling in. It was the day you would marry Simon, the Duke who had once been your adversary and had now become your greatest love.

The bridal suite buzzed with activity and last minute arrangements as maids flitted about. Your dress, an exquisite creation, hung waiting for you. As you step into it, the fabric cool and smooth against your skin, you feel a rush of anticipation. The dress fit perfectly, accentuating your figure and making you feel like a princess in a fairy tale dream come true. 

Your friends and mother gathered around, offering their congratulations and sharing in your joy. Girlish laughter and chatter filled the room, your heart overflowing with joy at the shared happiness permeating the room. Your mother adjusts your veil, her eyes misty with tears of happiness. “You look beautiful,” she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion. “The Duke is a very lucky man.”

In the meantime, Simon stood in his study, trying to calm his nerves. He was dress immaculately in a tailored suit, his usually stoic demeanor softened by the nerves of the day. A butler, who had helped him get dressed and ready, took on an affectionate, familial tone with him. 

“Nervous?”

Simon sighs, running a hand through his hair. “More than I ever thought possible,” he admits. “But also incredibly happy.” 

As the hour approaches, the guests begin to gather in the grand hall of the estate, the space transforming into a vision of elegance and celebration. Flowers adorn every surface, their fragrance filling the air. The sunlight streams through tall, wide windows, casting a warm, ethereal glow over the hall.

It was time for the bride to make her way down the aisle.

As you made your way to the entrance of the hall, your heart pounded in your chest. Your father was waiting for you behind the doors to the entrance, giving you a teary smile as you took his arm.

As the doors opened, a hush fell over the crowd, all eyes turning to you. You took a deep breath and stepped forward, your gaze immediately finding Simon at the end of the aisle. His eyes widened as he saw you, a look of pure love and awe on his face. You smile broadly in response, keeping eye contact with him the whole time.

With each step you took, your nerves began to settle, replaced by a sense of rightness and peace. This was where you were meant to be, with Simon, your husband and true love. When you reach him, your father gives you one last squeeze before Simon takes your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. You could see the pure emotion in his eyes.

The ceremony began, the words from the officiant flowing over you like a beautiful dream.

Simon never once let go of your gloved hands the whole time the officiant was speaking, and he never once tore his gaze from you. You were beautiful. Actually, beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe you; you were perfect. 

You never once let go of Simon’s hands, staring up at him with nothing but pure, unbridled joy. He was so handsome, so beautiful standing in front of you, your heart nearly burst. You squeeze his hands a few times, eliciting small smiles from him. 

You exchange your vows, your voices steady and clear, each promise spoken made with unwavering certainty. “I promise to love you, honor you, and stand by you,” Simon says, his voice echoing and proud. “For as long as we both shall live.”

“And I promise to love you, support you, and share in all your joys and sorrows,” you reply, your heart full. “For as long as we both shall live.”

When the words are spoken, and the officiant declares you husband and wife, Simon turns to you, his movements slow and deliberate. His hands are gentle as they lift to your face, his fingertips brushing over your jawline before finding the edge of your veil. The fabric trembles slightly in his hands, and you realize he’s just as overwhelmed as you are.

He raises the veil, lifting it over your head with the utmost care, as if the act itself were sacred. The delicate lace catches the light for a brief moment before it settles behind you, leaving you bare before him.

His breath catches, and for a moment, he simply looks at you. His eyes search your face, his gaze drinking in every detail—the curve of your lips, the softness of your cheeks, the glimmer of your eyes.

Then, with a tenderness that melted every last wall around your heart, he cupped your face in his hands. His thumbs brushed lightly over your cheeks, his touch reverent and steady. He leaned in slowly, his eyes locked with yours until the very last second.

The kiss was everything you had dreamed of—soft and warm, a perfect melding of your two souls who had journeyed through storms to find their calm. His lips moved against yours with gentle certainty, lingering as if to imprint the memory into his soul.

Applause and cheers erupted from the guests, but all you could hear was the beating of your heart and the softness of Simon’s lips against your own. It’s like firecrackers go off in your chest, the feeling purely and utterly indescribable as he kisses you. The kiss was filled with love, promise, and a sense of belonging that you had never felt so profoundly. 

When you finally pull back, both of you breathless and dazed, Simon rests his forehead against yours, a smile growing on his face. 

“Look at you,” he heaves, chuckling. 

Heat creeps up your cheeks, your own smile widening. “Look at us,” you whisper back, the joy in your voice undeniable.

The guests began to cheer and clap louder, their excitement only spurring you on. Simon keeps hold of your hand as you both turn to face the crowd, the final words blessing your union as husband and wife ringing in your ears. Together, you walk down the aisle, surrounded by friends and family, their congratulations and well-wishes filling your senses.

As you step outside the grand hall, you’re greeted by a cascade of flower petals raining down from above. The warm sunlight bathes you both, casting a golden glow on this perfect day. The carriage, adorned with flowers and ribbons, waits to take you to the reception. Simon helps you inside, your hands never parting.

The reception is a spectacular affair, held in the gardens of the estate. The tables are set with fine china and crystal, the air filled with the scent of flowers, and the sound of laughter. You and Simon are seated at the head table, overlooking the sea of guests who have come to celebrate your union. There were heartfelt toasts from loved ones, joyous laughter, and endless dancing. 

You shared your first dance as newlywed to a soft, melodic waltz. Simon took your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. He led you to the center of the floor, his gaze never leaving yours. Simon’s other hand found its place on the small of your back, pulling you closer. Your free hand rested on his shoulder, and for a moment, you both stood there, savoring the significance of the moment. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, bathed in the soft glow of the lights and the warmth of each other’s presence.

With a slight nod, Simon guided you into the dance. You moved together with a natural grace, your steps perfectly synchronized. Each movement across the floor was fluid and elegant. Simon’s eyes never left yours, his expression a mixture of love, awe, and contentment. He held you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, and in that moment, you felt like you truly were. Every twirl and dip was executed with perfect timing, and you still wondered how he got so good at dancing. 

You could feel the gentle rise and fall of Simon’s chest with each breath he took. His scent, a mixture of sandalwood and something uniquely him, enveloped you, grounding you in the moment. His touch was firm yet tender, a constant reminder of his strength and his love.

As the night went on, you and Simon stole moments alone, savoring the newfound intimacy that came with being married. In a quiet corner of the garden, under a canopy of twinkling candlelight, Simon pulled you into his arms again. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive,” he said, his voice low and tender. 

You reached up, brushing stray strands of hair from his forehead. “You’ve made all my dreams come true, Simon,” you replied, your heart brimming with love. 

He leaned down, kissing you gently, the promise of a beautiful future shining in his eyes. The night air was cool, the stars bright above you, and in that moment, everything felt perfect.

Eventually, the festivities began to wind down, and it was time for you and Simon to depart. Guests bid you good luck and farewell as you were led to the carriage waiting to take you both away. 

You climbed into the carriage, Simon’s arm securely around you. As it pulled away, you looked back at the estate, feeling a mixture of nostalgia and excitement for the future. Simon kissed your temple, drawing you close. You snuggle into his side, embracing the warmth radiating from his body. 

Suddenly, he lifts your gloved hand up to his face. He twists it in his grip, inspecting your hand as though it was something he could not understand and was desperately trying to figure out. Then, without a word, he brings his own hand up, his fingers splaying outwards as he carefully aligns them with yours. He studies the juxtaposition of your hands, his expression unreadable yet filled with a sense of wonder and amusement. His fingers are thick, large, calloused… you wonder how they would feel in— 

“Wh- what are you do—?” you start. 

“Shh.”

You shut your mouth and swallow thickly as his eyes come up to meet yours once again. You feel as though they pierce through your very soul. He returns his attention back to your hand, now flipping your hand so your palm faces his face.

Then, with the gentlest pressure, he starts to press his thumb into the palm of your hand. As his thumb massages your skin, a tingling sensation spreads through your hand, causing a rush of warmth to flood into your cheeks. You feel a flutter in your chest as his touch sends shivers down your spine. Each deliberate movement of his thumb against your skin feels both electrifying and intimate, causing your head to spin. Lost in the moment, you find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from his intense eyes, their depths drawing you in like a magnet.

Then, just when you think you couldn't be more captivated by his touch, he surprises you once again. With a swift, unexpected motion, he guides your fingers up to his lips. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch, mesmerized, as his teeth catch the fabric of the fingertips of your glove.

You think you’re about to faint. 

A strangled gasp falls past your lips as he bites down ever so gently and pulls the satin off with his teeth. He lets it dangle from his mouth for a moment, his gaze never leaving yours, as if challenging you to keep eye contact with him.

You’re breathing hard now, soft pants slipping from your lips that makes Simon’s heart pound and his cock throb in his pants. 

With a flicker of a smile playing at the corners of his lips, he finally releases the glove from his teeth, allowing it to fall to the ground in a soft whisper of fabric.

Then, without hesitation, he brings your bare hand back to his lips, his touch gentle yet firm as he presses a barely perceptible kiss to the palm of your hand. The feather-light sensation sends a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume all reason.

He then folds your hand, displaying your knuckles. He runs his lips over the ridges of your knuckles, letting his tongue slip out to trace the contours with tantalizing precision. Each delicate touch sends a jolt through you, left breathless and wanting, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggle to make sense of the primal desire that burns hotter with every passing second. 

Without warning, Simon slips his hand around your wrist and yanks you forward, causing you to fall on top of his chest. You squeak as you land on top of him, your body perfectly molding against his. His arms fasten around you in a protective embrace, holding you close as if you were the most precious thing in the world. 

With a gentle touch, he lifts your chin, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw with feather-light precision. His touch sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume all reason.

“Si- Simon—" you whisper weakly, trying your best to keep yourself together. “We— this… in the carriage?” 

“Mhm,” is all he says, seemingly amused at how riled up you’re getting from his touch. If you’re this flustered just from that, he can’t wait to see how much further unraveled you’ll be when—

“Kiss me again.” 

Your voice trembles with both desire and anticipation, and Simon's eyes darken gleefully. Without wasting a second, he leans in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that is both tender and searingly intense.

The carriage rocks gently as it moves along the path, but you barely notice. All that matters is the feel of Simon's lips on yours, the way his tongue shoves its way inside your mouth, the feeling of his hands all over you. 

Simon's hands roam up and down your back, pulling you even closer, as if trying to merge your bodies into one. You can feel the hard surface of his chiseled chest against your own, his heart beating wildly in sync with yours. Your fingers find their way into his hair, gripping tightly as the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent and fervent. He starts to slide his hands up your thigh, squeezing the plump flesh, and you're positively aching for him.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless, thoroughly whipped from the intensity of your kiss. 

Simon’s eyes bore into yours, filled with a love so profound it makes your heart thump wildly. 

"Tonight," he says, his voice a solemn whisper, "I will make you mine in every way."

Your breath catches at the promise in Simon’s words. The weight of his vow settles between you, thick and heavy with anticipation. He smiles, a slow, wicked curve of his lips that sends another shiver through you.

The carriage ride to his— your— estate is both torturously slow and blissfully short. Every moment stretched and savored, yet filled with an urgency that made you ache for what was to come. As you approached the estate, your heart pounded in your chest with the same fervor as the night you first realized you loved Simon.

He sat beside you, his fingers intertwined with yours, the heat of his palm grounding you. His thumb traced idle patterns over your knuckles—a silent conversation, a quiet assurance that he was as impatient as you, though he bore it with a composure that made you flush. He caught your gaze more than once, his lips twitching into that maddening smile that promised a thousand things he wasn’t saying aloud.

When the estate came into view, its tall spires and ivy-covered walls lit with the golden glow of twilight, your breath hitched. The grandeur of the place was breathtaking, but it wasn’t the imposing beauty of the building that stole your breath—it was the thought of it being your home. Your sanctuary. Your beginning with Simon.

The carriage came to a halt, and before the footman could move, Simon was already out, turning to help you down. His hands were steady and warm, wrapping around your waist as he guided you with the kind of care that made your chest ache. He lingered a second too long, his hands firm but gentle, before setting you on the ground.

"You’re home," he said softly, his voice low and rich, sending a thrill right through you.

- - -

The two of you lounged in the gardens behind the estate, the sun beginning its slow descent toward the horizon. It painted the sky in hues of amber and blush, the soft light catching in Simon’s hair as he leaned back against the trunk of a sprawling oak tree. He looked utterly at ease, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his boots discarded in the grass.

You sat between his legs, your back against his chest, his arms wrapped loosely around you. The scent of jasmine and freshly cut grass filled the air, mingling with the faint saltiness of the breeze rolling in from the distant river. Simon’s chin rested on the crown of your head, and you felt his chest rise and fall steadily against your back.

"Do you ever think about how far we’ve come?" you asked, your voice soft, almost a whisper, as if speaking louder would shatter the peace of the moment.

"All the time," he murmured, his lips brushing against your hair. "Especially when I have you like this. Reminds me how lucky I am."

You turned your head slightly to look up at him, arching a brow. "You? Lucky? I think it’s the other way around."

Simon chuckled, the deep, rich sound vibrating through you. He tightened his hold on you, pulling you closer. "No, it’s definitely me. You could have had anyone."

You laughed, the sound light and carefree. "No. It was just...you. The way you see the world. The way you see me," you teased, tilting your head back to meet his gaze fully.

Simon’s smile softened, his eyes searching yours as if he were trying to memorize you all over again. He reached up, brushing his knuckles along your cheek, his touch as gentle as ever. You leaned into his touch, pressing a kiss to his palm before lacing your fingers with his.

The two of you sat in silence for a while after that, watching as the sun dipped lower, the sky transitioning to shades of lavender and indigo. The first stars began to appear, faint but steady, twinkling above like tiny promises.

Simon’s fingers played idly with yours, his voice breaking the quiet. "Do you think we’ll ever grow tired of this? Just…being together like this?"

You shook your head, a soft smile curving your lips. "Never," you said firmly. "This is everything. You are everything."

Simon’s arms tightened around you, his lips brushing against your temple. "Good," he said, his voice low and content. "Because I don’t ever plan on letting go."

He shifted slightly, his arms loosening before he leaned forward, scooping you effortlessly into his lap. The movement drew a squeal of surprise from you, quickly followed by laughter.

“Simon!” you exclaimed, swatting lightly at his chest. “You could warn a person before manhandling them like that.”

He chuckled, his hands resting securely on your hips to keep you steady. “I could,” he replied with an easy grin, “but where’s the fun in that?”

You twisted to look up at him, an exaggerated glare on your face. “One of these days, I’m going to get you back for all your mischief, you know.”

Simon’s dark eyes sparkled with amusement as he tilted his head, pretending to consider your words. “Hmm, I suppose I’ll just have to remain on high alert at all times then. Though I have to say, I’m not terribly afraid of your vengeance.”

“Not afraid?” you scoffed, trying and failing to keep a straight face. “You should be!”

“Hm, i’s hard to be intimidated when you’re sitting in my lap like this," Simon teased, leaning in until his nose brushed against yours.

Your cheeks flushed, and you pushed at his chest with a laugh. “You’re impossible!”

“And yet, here you are, willingly sitting in my lap,” he said, his voice smug as he leaned back, pulling you with him.

You rolled your eyes, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your amusement.

Simon’s grin softened into something more tender as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his hands sliding to hold yours.

As the two of you fell into an easy rhythm of teasing and quiet moments, the garden around you seemed to hold its breath, basking in the warmth of your shared laughter and affection.

part 7 <