#NO MORE NIGHT BLUE SKIES FOREVER

[hojiteaversion]

MY BOYFRIEND IS BACK AND HE'S COOLER THAN EVER

[veravictorialee]

[redocity]

Had a thought, where since buck is a God damn redwood, reader jokingly stands on a coffee table to look down at him and cup his face to kiss him and he absolutely adores whenever it happens

STEP-UP — E.BUCKLEY

you’re not exactly gifted in the height department, so you have to use a bit of extra help to reach your giant of a boyfriend.

evan buckley x short!reader | 1.5k | fluff | masterlist.

a/n — oh to stand on a coffee table so i can kiss my tall-ass bf 😔✊

It started really as a one-off.

Buck was all broad shoulders and strong arms, a hulking redwood of a man who seemed to tower over everyone and everything. And you? Well… not so much.

You’d grown used to tilting your head back to meet his eyes, to stretching onto your tiptoes just to kiss him. But that one night, when something in the air felt light, fun, you’d found yourself getting creative.

It had been after dinner, a quiet evening in the apartment, the smell of spices lingering in the kitchen as the two of you moved through your usual routines.

He’d been washing the dishes, his tall, muscular frame filling the small space as you leaned against the couch, watching him.

Buck always made everything look so effortless, even something as simple as cleaning up, defined arms reaching across the surface with ease.

You shook your head, amused at the sight, and thats when the idea hit you.

As he returned, you stepped up onto the low coffee table that sat between the couch and the TV, elevating yourself just enough that when he looked back at you, for once, you were looking down at him.

It was barely half an inch, but you were satisfied.

“Whatcha doing up there?” He asked, chuckling softly, his voice rumbling softly in his chest.

“Just wanted to see what it feels like to be you for once,” you teased, stepping closer to the edge of the table. You were now eye level with him, something that almost never happened unless he was sat down.

He was so tall, so big, that it felt like half the time you were craning your neck just to meet his gaze.

Buck’s grin grew, his blue eyes twinkling as he stepped forward, standing just inches away from you. He wasn’t stupid—he knew what was coming, but he liked to play along. That was the thing about Buck; he had a sense humour to match his size.

You loved that about him, loved that despite his intimidating appearance, he was so easygoing, so ready to engage in your playful moments.

“Well,” you said, cupping his face with both hands, your palms warm against his stubbled cheeks. “This is how it feels to be tall,”

And before he could respond, you leaned in and kissed him. It was soft, tender, and for once, you didn’t have to strain or stretch or find some weird angle to reach him. For the first time in what felt like forever, you were the one with the advantage. When you pulled back, he was still smiling, eyes closed, clearly savoring the moment.

“How’s the weather up there?” he teased, voice low and affectionate.

You laughed, patting his chest. “Nothing but sunny skies,”

Buck hummed out a laugh as his palms splayed over your hips, although he didn’t get to bask in the moment for too long.

“Is that shelf always that dusty?”

—

That had been the beginning of it.

From then on, whenever you were in the mood to mess with him or just wanted to kiss him without feeling like you needed a step stool, you’d find something to stand on.

The stairs, a chair, even a curb if you were out walking. Each time, you’d make some cheeky comment about your newfound height, and each time, Buck would play along, leaning into your touch with a fond smile, like he couldn’t get enough.

It was as if, in those moments, the world shrank a little.

Buck’s usual stature seemed to fade, and the dynamic between the two of you shifted, becoming something even more intimate.

You could see it in his eyes, how much he adored it when you cupped his face and brought him down to your level. He never seemed to mind that you were taking a playful jab at his height. In fact, if anything, he seemed to love you more for it.

One evening, after a particularly grueling shift at the firehouse, Buck came home looking more worn than usual. His broad shoulders were slumped, and there were dark circles under his eyes, the weight of the day’s work evident in every step he took.

You had been waiting for him, curled up on the couch, but the moment you saw him, you knew he needed something to lift his spirits.

Without saying a word, you hopped off the couch and walked over to the stairs, climbing two steps before turning to face him. He looked up at you, tired but curious, his lips quirking into a small smile despite himself.

“Again?” he asked, his voice rough from the long day.

“Come here,” You beckoned softly, your hands already reaching out for him.

He moved toward you, and when he was standing in front of the stairs, you reached up, cupping his face just like you had so many times before.

This time, though, you were gentle, your thumbs brushing over the scruff on his cheeks as you tilted his head up to meet yours.

“I missed you today,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his in a slow, lingering kiss.

When you pulled back, you kept your hands on his face, looking down at him with all the love and affection you could muster. “Rough shift?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling deeply, and when he opened them again, that familiar softness had returned. The exhaustion was still there, but it wasn’t weighing him down quite as much anymore.

His hands came to rest on your waist, holding you close, and for a moment, you just stood there, savouring the quiet between you.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s much better now,”

—

Over time, your little ritual became a balm for the both of you. Whenever things felt heavy, or when the world outside was too much, you’d find a way to shrink the distance between you.

It was a small, silly thing, but it meant something. It was a reminder that despite the difference in your heights, in your physicalities, you were equals in every other way.

You grounded him, gave him something to hold onto when the days got long and the nights got lonely.

One weekend, you found yourselves at a park near your apartment, enjoying a rare day off together.

Buck had insisted on taking you to this spot, one that overlooked the city and had the perfect view of the sunset. As the two of you walked along the path, hand in hand, you came across a low stone wall that lined the edge of the trail.

Without thinking, you hopped up onto it, grinning as Buck looked up at you, amused as ever. You walked along the wall, balancing carefully as he followed alongside you, his hand resting on your hip to steady you.

“Are you ever going to stop doing this?” he asked, though his smile told you he didn’t really want you to.

“Nope,” you replied, hopping off the wall and landing right in front of him. “Never,”

Buck chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled you into his arms, lifting you slightly off the ground as he kissed you.

You melted into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands held you securely. Even though you were back to being shorter than him, it didn’t matter. In moments like these, there was no difference. It was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, everything else fading away.

After he set you back down, you rested your forehead against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

His arms tightened around you, and you knew, without a doubt, that this was where you belonged. Whether you were standing on a table or two steps up, or just in his arms, the height didn’t matter.

What mattered was the way he looked at you, the way he held you, like you were the only thing in the world that could make him feel whole.

“Love you,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“Love you too,” he whispered back, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

From that moment on, every time you stood on something to kiss him, it wasn’t just a joke anymore. It was a promise.

A promise that no matter how tall the trees grew or how high the flames rose, you’d always find a way to reach him.

And Buck? He’d always be there, looking up at you with that same adoration in his eyes, grateful for every kiss you gave him, no matter how high up you had to go to deliver it.

[pastryfication]

winter wonderland

pairing: kimi antonelli x leclerc!reader

note: i’m not really satisfied with this but it’s cosy and christmassy so we ball 🙂‍↕️

part one of my advent celebration

december had a way of coming creeping just at the right time. it brought a lightness to everything, spreading a nice warm feeling across everything as it rolled around with its christmas cheer and holiday cosiness.

to celebrate christmas that year, your family had rented out a cabin at your favourite ski resort, nestled in the heart of the french alps. it was a tradition you had kept up for a long time, but for the first time, the friend you brought wasn’t just a friend. he was someone much more special.

the small chalet style cabin your brother had arranged for your group was the perfect charming blend of rustic elegance and winter magic. it was made of dark wood with steep, snow-covered roofs adorned with twinkling fairy lights that cast a warm glow as the night settled in. snow piled neatly on the nearby balconies, where wreaths and red ribbons hung along the edges, adding festive touches to the scene.

you and kimi had gotten your own room—much to arthur’s dismay—and it was as magical as the rest of the house. until then, you had enjoyed your evenings together, cuddled in the warm, cozy bed, but as it was your boyfriend’s last night with you before he flew home to spend the holidays with his family, you had decided to go explore a small village located just outside the boarder of the resort.

you were walking along a small road close to the middle of the town. the square was alive with the cheerful hum of holiday spirit, and market stalls lined the cobblestone paths, selling everything from hand-knit scarves to spiced cider and roasted chestnuts. a large christmas tree stood proudly at the center, its branches decorated with delicate glass ornaments and shimmering tinsel, while the soft notes of a carol floated through the air from a street performer’s violin.

beyond the village, you could see the ski runs snake down the mountainside, illuminated by the golden light of the setting sun. skiers and snowboarders still dotted the slopes, gliding gracefully down the white mountainside. the peaks of the surrounding alps, capped with snow, rose majestically against the sky shifting from pale blue to the soft lavender of twilight.

it was getting late, and your mum had already sent a message to let you know that you had to be home soon, but everything about the moment was so absolutely perfect, and you didn’t want to break it just yet.

the snow crunched delicately under your boots as you took another step through the magic winter wonderland of the small village. the street performer had changed to a christmas love song, the soft tones creating the perfect backdrop to your walk.

despite the thick, fluffy gloves you both were wearing, kimi’s hand felt warm in yours. every so often, he’d squeeze it a little tighter, a silent signal that made you glance up. his eyes always met yours with that familiar, loving sparkle, sometimes followed by a quick kiss on the tip of your cold nose.

he adored the way you looked all bundled up in your thick coat, scarf and woollen hat with a frosty blush covering your cheeks. it made him all giddy on the inside and he couldn’t help but let his gaze linger as a goofy smile took over his face. it made your heart skip; it was rare to see him this relaxed, away from the newfound pressure of the track and cameras.

“i wish we could stay like this forever,” you whispered as you passed a stall selling handmade ornaments. kimi’s fingers squeezed yours again, and when you looked up, he had that smile—the one that made your heart flutter.

“me too,” he said, his voice low and earnest, before he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

you looked at him, puzzled. he turned to you fully and whispered your name, his breath visible in the cold air. “i love you.”

your smile widened, a new blush spreading across your cheeks—this time not from the chill. “i love you more.”

“not possible,” he immediately remarked back, not giving you a chance to protest. even if you hadn’t been able to see his face, you would still have been able to hear the smile in his voice.

you smiled right back up at him, but before you could respond, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. it was short and sweet, both of you smiling into the kiss, and when you pulled apart, giggles filled the air between you.

“we should probably head back,” you said, the reluctance clear in your voice as you glanced at the sky now deepening into night.

he sighed, nodding. “yeah. wouldn’t want to give your brothers another reason to dislike me.”

you pouted, your gloved hand coming up to caress his cheek. “they don’t hate you. they just have a hard time accepting the fact that i’ve grown up.”

he leaned into your touch, nodding his head with soft eyes. “yeah, yeah. whatever you say.”

✦ ✦ ✦

later, as found yourself at home in the cabin once again, with the glow from the windows of the chalets and lodges reflecting off the snow, casting a magical light over the landscape, you found yourself back at your favourite place in the world: your boyfriend’s arms.

the scent of pine trees and wood smoke came in from the slightly open window and mingled with the faint sweetness of hot chocolate coming from the kitchen, where your mum and charlotte were cooking up snacks for your movie night.

a small fire crackled in the stone fireplace, its warmth spreading throughout the room. your family were all gathered around, laughter and cheerful chatter filling the air. charles emerged from the hallway with a soft smile, leaning down to ruffle your hair before pressing a kiss to your temple before he moved on to alex, who sat on the couch with an amused grin, and they exchanged a friendly nudge and a few teasing words.

arthur was sprawled out in one of the armchairs, wrapped in a blanket with only his tousled hair visible. he shot you a playful glare when he caught sight of you and kimi on the loveseat, but it was softened by the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

lorenzo was resting next to him, more up right and put together, but still relaxed in a way he only was around you. next to him, two empty spots were waiting for the rest of your close knit family.

leo was shuffling around on the floor, overwhelmed by the amount of cuddly people within his vicinity. his cute little snout poked at all of you as he surveyed the room, before he finally decided to join you and kimi by jumping into your lap.

you let out a small giggle and went to pet him. as the dog settled in between you, kimi’s arm tightened around you just a bit and you looked up at him with an adoring smile.

this, right here, felt absolutely perfect. this was your epitome of happiness. this was your wonderland. the most magical place in the world.

[endless-ineffabilities]

There's no more night, blue skies forever 🤙

[shanastoryteller]

Happy happy holidays 🎁🎉🕎🎄❄☃️ As always, I’d love some more of thee MDZS Identity Porn (with the masks and LWJ getting jealous of all of his husband’s “husbands”) (Or JC traveling back in time?) Thanks!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5

Nie Huaisang has spent most of the banquet fluttering back and forth between his brother and Meng Yao, stroking and then soothing Nie Mingjue's anger by turns.

At this point, Lan Wangji can't help but find himself wholly unsympathetic to Nie Mingjue's plight. Meng Yao has his husband's trust and care and whatever friction he'd experienced in the Nie is lacking in the Burial Mounds.

The more formal portion of the night has faded and people are intermingling and drinking and spread throughout the Jin gardens and main hall.

Wen Qing spends the evening drinking and scowling and unsubtly putting as much distance between herself and Jiang Wanyin as possible.

Lan Wangji had gotten so caught up talking with his brother and other Lan, now that it's socially permissible to do so, that it takes him a while to notice that his husband is missing.

It takes him significantly less time to notice that Nie Huaisang is missing too.

His face drops into a scowl that he's afraid he's learned from Wen Qing. Xichen blinks then his eyebrows push together in concern. "Wangji?"

He forces his face to smooth out. "Apologies, brother. It's nothing."

Xichen raises an eyebrow then leads him away from the others with some murmured excuses that they pretend to believe. “Go on.”

“It’s fine,” he insists, then under his brother’s unwavering gaze swallows down his embarrassment to say, “The Yiling Patriarch and I have a political marriage.”

“Yes,” Xichen agrees in puzzlement before his faces darkens. “If he is behaving dishonorably-”

“He had a life before me, Xichen,” he says. “His personal and political interests are simply not aligned.”

Not completely. He had flustered Wei Wuxian before. He’s never seduced anyone before, but Wei Wuxian seems as if he’d be amenable, if only he can figure out how to do it.

Xichen looks at him carefully before his mouth tips up on the side. “This is displeasing to you. That the Patriarch’s interest in you is not personal.”

He flushes but gives a single nod.

There’s clear amusement in his tone now. “So he is handsome under the mask then?”

“Xichen,” he says, helpless and a warning at once. He’d spoken in generalities all evening, unwilling to reveal any of the particulars about the clan he’s married into, even to his brother. Meng Yao and Wen Qing are correct. Their clan will have to come more fully into the public soon but that’s Wei Wuxian’s decision, not his.

Well, realistically it’s Meng Yao’s, considering it seems as if Wei Wuxian would happily keep[ their clan in the shadows forever.

“Do you promise it’s not terrible?” Xichen continues, the teasing gone and just leaving gentle concern in its place. “You weren’t just saying that so the others wouldn’t worry? The burial mounds is such a horrible place. I hate thinking of you there.”

The burial mounds are beautiful.

It holds their village and their people and lush fields and thriving crops. There’s soft greys and blue skies and every horrible part of it is underneath his husband’s control and he would never, ever let that horror touch the people he’s sworn to protect.

“It’s not what it looks like on the outside,” he says finally. “The Patriarch isn’t either. You’ll understand when you see it.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Xichen says.

[sonamytrash]

Lust For Life

Levi Ackerman x F!reader

Warnings: Sex, oral sex, fingering, creampie, more sex.

Note: Purely self-indulgent smut. Inspired by Lust For Life by Lana Del Rey ft The Weekend. Song fic, but the lyrics are in a different font, so skip if you like. I left it a little open to interpretation. Levi and reader have been apart for some time, having been in a past relationship. At last reunited they fuck on his desk. Enjoy!

_____________________

In these stolen moments,

The world is mine,

There's nobody here, just us together,

Keepin' me hot like July forever,

He reaches out and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, the proximity between the two of you making him feel alive again.

"You were always worth treating well," he says, his eyes locked with yours. "I never wanted to do anything to hurt you."

He leans in closer to you, the proximity between the two of you causing his heart to race. "I still care about you," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I always have, and I always will."

'Cause we're the masters of our own fate

We're the captains of our own souls

He leans in and presses his lips to yours, the kiss full of longing and tenderness. All the years you have spent apart, all the pain and suffering, melt away in that moment,

There's no way for us to come away

'Cause boy we're gold, boy we're gold

And I was like

The kiss between you and Levi grows deeper and drips with passion. His tongue explores your mouth and tastes every inch of you. The electric chemistry that exists between the two of you is palpable, each knowing exactly what the other desires. After all, you have danced this dance so many times before. Your bodies entwine together, the heat and passion impossible to ignore. Completely lost in one another.

Take off, take off

Take off all your clothes

Take off, take off

Take off all your clothes

Take off, take off

Take off all of your clothes

His hand finds its way to the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth hungrily. He moans into the kiss as he feels one hand trailing down his chest, another finding the waistband of his trousers, fingers working on the button. He groans as your hand travels south, caressing his hardness through the confinement of his clothes, the sensation driving him wild with desire.

They say only the good die young

That just ain't right

'Cause we're having too much fun

Too much fun tonight, yeah

One of your hands finds its way back to his muscular chest, having discarded his shirt. Removing each other's clothes, desperate to be as close as physically possible. Years of longing and desire, having been apart for so much time.

And a lust for life, and a lust for life

Keeps us alive, keeps us alive

And a lust for life, and a lust for life

Keeps us alive, keeps us alive

Levi groans loudly as he feels your hand now wrap around his cock, the sensation driving him wild with pleasure. He had missed your touch so much, and now that he's finally here, it feels like a dream. You had always known just how to drive him wild and cloud his thoughts with nothing but you.

He uses his rough hands to caress your breasts, feeling your nipples hardening against his palms. He can feel the wetness seeping through your panties, and he can't resist dipping his fingers down to tease your clit.

'Til we run out of breath, gotta dance 'til we die

You kiss along his jaw and neck, slowly pumping his cock in your hands "Remember the things we used to do together Vi, dirty teenagers fucking like animals everywhere and anywhere." You say seductively, reminding him of the days where he would pull you into an alley or storehouse to fuck you senseless. A wanton moan escapes your lips when you feel those fingers you've missed so, so much.

My boyfriend's back

And he's cooler than ever

There's no more night, blue skies forever

Levi groans as he feels your lips on his neck and the feel of your hands pumping his cock, every touch and moan you bestow upon him, driving him wild with lust.

He can't help but smile at the memory of your wild teenage years, filled with sex and passion. The two of you sneaking around to fuck in the most risqué of places, always craving the feel of each other's bodies.

'Cause we're the masters of our own fate

We're the captains of our own souls

So there's no need for us to hesitate

We're all alone. Let's take control

"I remember," he says, his voice husky with desire. "I could never get enough of you, y/n. And I still evidently fucking can't." He says almost breathless.

And I was like

Take off, take off

Take off all your clothes

Take off, take off

Take off all your clothes

Take off, take off

Take off all of your clothes

He runs his fingers along your slit, the wetness making it easy to slide in between your folds, back into familiar territory. "I want to make you scream my name again," he whispers lustily in your ear. "That was always my favourite sound."

They say only the good die young

That just ain't right

'Cause we're having too much fun

Too much fun tonight, yeah

Levi groans at the feeling of your soft pussy clenching around his fingers, the thought of the sensation around his cock after so long. He loves the way your body sings for him, the way your pussy sucks him in hungrily.

And a lust for life, and a lust for life

And a lust for life, and a lust for life

Without any more hesitation, he picks you up by the hips and sets you down on his desk, spreading your legs wide open. Kneeling down between your thighs, breathing in your sweet scent before his tongue begins lapping at your wetness hungrily.

Keeps us alive, keeps us alive

Keeps us alive, keeps us alive

He sucks on your clit, fingers playing with your folds as he explores and enjoys every inch of you with his tongue again after so long apart, the picture of you having been etched into memory. The sensation is intense and the pleasure that he delivers almost too much.

"You're so fucking wet," he whispers seductively against your skin. "I've missed the taste of you, y/n."

Levi continues to lick and suck on your clit hungrily, worshipping the temple that is your body. He had missed this so much, missed the feel of you under his tongue, the taste of you, and the sound of your moans as they fill the room.

He speeds up the pace, his tongue working harder while he adds another finger into the mix. He plunges two fingers deep inside of you, working them in and out while his tongue laps at your folds.

My boyfriend's back

And he's cooler than ever

You come undone as he devours your cunt. Arching your back in pleasure as your orgasm rips through you.

There's no more night, blue skies forever

I told you twice in our love letter

There's no stopping now, green lights forever

Levi continues to work his fingers inside of you, lost in the pleasure of making you cum. Desperately trying to resist the urge to hump the air as his cock twitches in anticipation for the heaven he knows is yet to come.

You moan his name loudly, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

He drinks up every drop of your sweet nectar, the taste of you driving him wild with desire. He stands up, kissing you deeply and passionately as he shares the taste of your essence with you.

"You taste incredible, you always do," he coos, hands gripping your hips tightly. "I want to be inside of you so badly. I need to mould this pussy back to the shape of my cock." He says, telling you what he's going to do rather than asking.

You look at him, eyes heavy with lust "Fuck me levi." you pant, your legs open wide and your fingers spreading your swollen cunt for him to see before he stretches you on his cock.

And I was like,

Take off, take off

Take off all your clothes

Levi growls at your words, he positions himself between your legs, his cock hard and throbbing with need as he readies himself at your entrance.

Without warning, he plunges himself deep inside of you, feeling the warm wetness of your body enveloping him in a tight embrace.

Take off, take off

Take off all your clothes

"Fuck" he hisses, almost a whimper. "You feel so fucking good." he grunts, hips slamming hard into your own. "I've missed the feeling of your pussy around my cock like this."

As he thrusts into you again and again, he can feel the pleasure building inside of you once more, your moans becoming louder and more desperate with each passing moment.

"This pussy was made for me."

Take off, take off

Take off all of your clothes

He picks up the pace, gripping your hips tightly, thrusting harder and faster into you as you both become one. The sound of your moans fill the room, your bodies moving together for what feels like eternity.

And a lust for life, and a lust for life

He can't get enough of the sound of you and the sight of you quivering from pleasure, as you cum again on his cock, tits bouncing from his relentless movements, he relishes the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing him. With one final thrust, he feels his cock pulsing inside of you as he reaches his own orgasm, hot cum spurting deep inside of you as his cock kisses your cervix.

Keeps us alive, keeps us alive

He kisses you deeply, the taste of your lips forever etched into his memory. He knows that there's nothing in the world that he wouldn't do for you, nothing that would stop him from loving you endlessly, worshipping you for the rest of his life.

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Rigor Mortis (part 7)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 6, Part 8

summary: You spend some time with Miguel.

warnings: smut. f receiving oral, fingering, grinding, switchy behaviour from both sides, angst. 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: this chapter beat my ass icl

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 6.3k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

all-consuming grief,

It’s going to be a warm night. It's ushered in by the kind of dawn that bleeds red and gold, tawny and autumnal in the waning light. Like the washy colours of a Renoir, and he doesn’t even notice that he’s doing the thing he swore black-and-blue he wouldn’t. Reminiscing and romanticising; for the first time in a while, Miguel is able to see the sun set, legs splayed on the brick of his front steps. 

Sitting by worn metal railing, he’s still in his work clothes. He chucked his rucksack on the step above, leaning long legs onto the ones below. They don’t ache as much as they used to, well-trained by a couple months of running and spending more time in the gym. There’s a shake in the fridge, labelled ‘Tuesday, PM’ that he’ll gulp down before bed, and one labelled ‘Wednesday, AM’ that he’ll take before setting off in the morning. In the morning, with cloudy skies and street cars to keep him company. There’s too much pollution, light or otherwise, for him to see some stars. He hasn’t seen stars in a while, now.

Long days seem to have turned into just days somewhere along the way. He can’t quite pinpoint when, and doesn’t really care to, but he thinks his brother would call it “progress”. There’s a grimace on his face as he thinks about it; a word that tastes like mud and feels like swirling cement in his mouth. It’s all bullshit, really. Gabi’s paltry attempt at therapising him, one which he would usually nip in the bud - taking metaphorical shears to slash at weeds and dense conversation. Catch-up calls about how he feels, how he’s doing – when he’s fine, he always is – as if Gabi is waiting for a shoe to drop. 

He’s waiting for Miguel to have an epiphany, a breakdown the size of a collapsing star. It’s not coming, he keeps telling his brother, and the sooner the younger O’Hara realises – without the wide eyes and the pity – the better for the both of them. After all, Gabriel is his baby brother, and he’s spent his whole life worrying on his behalf: playing hide-and-seek in little closets and putting back together broken toys. Trying to drown out the sound of shouting and broken plates. They’re too old for all that, the worrying and gulping back tears, walking its well-travelled paths – and it doesn’t feel right that Gabi should do the same for him.

He sighs, deep and heavy and rolling down that quiet street. After what feels like forever, he’s tempted to lie down, to rest his head on the stone, close his eyes and think of something else. Of someone else - lots of someones, at this point in the day. He’s not the weepy type, but he is tired; shaking off the wear and tear, and fighting off sleep. 

Then he sees it; a figure walking towards him, all sandals and khaki shorts and smiles. Mr Estevez, donned in his year-round attire of a polo shirt, a little tight around the middle, and cargos cut off below the knee – finally appropriate, considering the weather. He’s strolling closer like he’s got all the time in the world. If Miguel wasn’t so exhausted; the bone-deep kind, the kind that seeps into skin and lines a casket; he would’ve been annoyed. Instead, he hisses, furrows quickly deepening. 

“Buenas, Miguelito!” Mr Estevez beams, scratching at scraggly facial hair. 

Miguel frowns, but greets him nonetheless: that politeness drilled into him during childhood rearing its head.

“Buenas tardes, tío.” He grits his teeth as he gets up from his seat, creaky joints and all.

His landlord, the building’s handyman, owner of half a dozen shops all over the city, and Miguel’s uncle-that’s-not-really-his-uncle; Mr Estevez wears many hats, staying bright and informal regardless. He’s known the older man since he was 6, so he can’t be too disappointed; his tío has been late for weddings, funerals, and his little boy’s birth – it’s not much of a surprise that he’d be late now, too. Miguel stretches out a rough palm, and the man stops just shy of his hand, completely ignoring it. Before he knows it, Miguelito is engulfed in a great big bear hug, with wet kisses pressed to the apples of his cheeks. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, as usual, so they hang limply; arms flailing to his sides like a t-rex.

They separate, and he coughs at the great big hand that slaps his back. Grumbling, he walks up to the door, bag over his back, and stands expectantly. Mr Estevez doesn’t follow, instead dusting himself down to sit on the steps.

“I just need to get into the building.” Miguel starts. “Forgot my keys, and I've been here for hours. M’tired, and I–”

“Let’s sit, Miguel.” He scoots over, making space. “Look at the stars.”

It’s clear the older man isn’t moving. Begrudgingly, he obliges.  “We’re in the middle of the city. You only see “stars” in the river – beer bottles and tinned crap reflecting the lights.” 

“Language.” He gets a sharp nudge to his ribs.

“Discúlpame, tío.”

They stew for a moment, bathing in the silence that follows. The man besides him is the first to speak.

“I spoke to your mother.”

He’s scoffing and moving to get up, before feeling a firm hand on his shoulder.

“She’s worried, Miguel. Says you haven’t called in a while.”

“She hasn’t called me either."

“She’s stubborn.” The man besides him chuckles, bringing gentle eyes to meet his own. "Pig-headed. Remind you of someone?"

Miguel rolls his eyes, he just can't help it. 

"She’s also the one that moved back home, so either way–”

"You know it's all been hard on her." 

" –on her? It's been hard for her, surrounded by family, after she abandoned me? A-After…" His voice gets dangerously hoarse, threatening to crack under the weight of those words. 

He can't stand the pitiful look sent his way: brows drawn, lips pressed into a thin line.

"Sorry. It's… It's nothing. I'm fine. Just fine."

"I didn't ask if you were fine, Miguel."

–even though you're definitely not okay. That part is left unsaid, spat onto the pavement like bitter backwash. 

Mr Estévez sighs, ruffling a hand through Miguel's hair. It makes him hiss and dart away from the hand, pouting like he's a little kid again. He doesn't like it; the way he feels like all this life he's lived has been for naught. Trials and tribulations, and yet he doesn't feel that ache of growth; still stuck in the shoes of an awkward teenager. 

"You think too much, Miguelito. Always have." He smiles, the kind that deepens the wrinkles around his mouth. It twists Miguel into knots, mouth dry as he tries to untangle himself from that feeling. "I'm worried about you, kid."

He sniffs, eyes trained towards the pavement. There it is again, worry; complicating and unravelling what was meant to be just another day. 

"It's today, isn't it?" 

All Miguel does is nod, shakily. It's been 2 years since his heart was ripped out of his chest. It heaves now, an erratic rise and fall he’s doing his best to control. Breathe, deeply and calmly; try not to think about his little girl in that hospital bed, and those blank eyes staring back. 

“M’fine.” It comes out more desperate than he intends it, and he curses under his breath. If Mr Estevez hears the crude language, he doesn’t react.

Miguel is tense, hunched over the bag on his lap and curled into himself like prey – spitting and prickly and clearly uncomfortable. He’s never been the weepy kind, but the older man can’t help but think it’s a shame; so much love, and nowhere to keep it but inside. Miguel's bottled it up; the memories of precious Gabriella, all that warmth she brought out in her father; and he's turned them to poison pills to keep himself sick. 

Miguel would never admit it, of course. He’s too stubborn. Pig-headed.

His tío sighs, moving to get up. He groans, in that dramatic sort of way he knows Miguel can’t stand, but still, there's a rush to help him up. Producing the door keys with a flourish, he pulls from the depths of cargo pockets, and unlocks the main door. Ushering in the younger man, who has grown so tall he needs to duck as he climbs the narrow stairs, there’s a finger prodded into the back of that cotton button-up.

“Miguel?” He starts, revving up a conversation he’s been meaning to have for a while now.

“Hmm?” 

They both wait by the entrance of the apartment. The keys jingle in Mr Estevez’s hand.

“If I open the door, will I find out that you’ve driven away another one of my tenants?”

Conveniently, there seems to be a rather interesting spot in the hardwood that Miguel pokes with a dress shoe. 

“...depends on your definition of 'driven out', tío.”

“That’s the third one this year! Not even 2 months– I knew there was something up. Not a single one of those little smiley faces to my messages, and–"

“I’ll make up for his side of the rent, you know I will.”

“I don’t like it. You should be saving up, to go get a house and settle down somewhere."

“I like living here, and I’ve said multiple times I’d pay the extra to live alone–”

“And then what? You rot in your room for the rest of your life?”

“I don’t– rot feels a little–”

“Nonsense. You’re lonely, Miguelito. If you don’t like it, you move out.”

They both know he won’t. It’s not really an option; the apartment is affordable and he likes living so close to his old neighbourhood, his old haunts. It’s like he’s tethered to that place with a bungee cord wrapped under his ribs, always snapping back.

“No promises, tío.”

“Doesn’t matter, Miguelito.” He sighs, scratching at stubble. “It’s been hard to find other tenants, with half the neighbourhood drying up. But as soon as I do–”

He points an accusatory finger at Miguel, and the sentence is finished for him.

“...best behaviour, I know.”

“Best behaviour.” Mr Estevez repeats, and starts to fumble with the keys. He throws a little comment over his shoulder. “I liked your lady friend, ages ago… the scary one, with the blue hair. She was–”

“Xina’s not scary, when you get to know her.”

“She was funny. Very pretty. Always paid rent on time, gave me food when I came to fix the heating…”

“It's out again, by the way.” Miguel chews his lip, with a strange expression. “And yeah, she was.”

The door swings open. Mr Estevez doesn’t let him off the hook, though, engulfing him in a warm hug. This time, in the doorway of his apartment, eyes screwed shut; he doesn’t try to wriggle out of it, melting into his tío’s arms. It feels different now that he’s not a kid: angry and hurting with a different sort of ache, but he leans into it, all the same.

~~~

There's a pressure released from the apartment, lately. Miguel feels… well, first of all, he feels ; thinks with his heart and not his head, sometimes. It's lighter, coming home with that weight on his shoulders and with someone there to distract him from it. Living life, he thinks, for the first time in a while. Vivid and vibrant and awake ; relishing the autumnal weather. It's always been his favourite season, despite how childish he thinks having a favourite season is; something you had asked him on a whim one morning. 

Normally, he wouldn't entertain it, and with all the shit Pete spews, sometimes, he's had plenty of practice ignoring it. A well-timed dirty look, and then he'd get his head down and work; occupy himself with something less frivolous. But when you say it, with half a piece of toast sticking out of your mouth, it doesn't feel like a chore to answer. It doesn't feel like a stupid question, and he finds his face growing warm at the thought of you caring about these little things – wanting to know him , however that comes. 

And so, his answer is Autumn. It's a little stilted; but catching him off guard after a run will do that to him. It's purely practical , he says, eyes tracing the slopes of your body in that shirt and shorts that stops at your thighs; high enough that he feels like a perv for looking. Autumn has temperate, even weather. Perfect for sweaters and hoodies. Warm enough that you don't need a jacket. Just right. You snort, nudging him. Bullshit, Mig. You flutter your eyelashes mockingly, your tone light. You just think it's the prettiest. 

And he hums, catching you off guard. You're both drawn towards that little window over the sink, the one that overlooks a fire escape and the street. He's had that view for three years, now. Sleeves always rolled to his elbows as he does his washing up, but never quite looking. The street just below is framed in its windowpane, quite the pretty picture. Crisp leaves scattered on the sidewalk, carpeted in red and honeyed amber. And he can feel it from the other side of the glass; smell it, touch it, taste it. Autumn: hot chocolate and giggles, the crunch of leaves underfoot, and cupping tiny palms to warm them up. Sunsets seen for the first time, watched through bus windows on the way back from school – he misses those the most. 

"You don't think it's beautiful?" You say, leaning your head towards the half-open window. 

You don't notice, but he looks over to you, swallowing roughly. He says it with a small voice.

"I…I do."

You're darting to the bathroom not too long after, breaking the spell. Frustrated, he resists the urge to curl up into a ball and scream into his palms. He's got what he wanted; a good fuck, a pretty face, a warm smile. Friends, at the most, who happen to get the other off after a long day. A welcome distraction, at the least. He's got what his body has been telling him he needs for the past few months. It makes him feel weird, so oddly settled; but, all things considered… 

Miguel is doing okay.

“...and I wouldn’t normally ask, but I swear , I left him…o-on read and he won’t stop texting me.”

Really, actually; he’s doing fine.

“It feels weird– mmffuck– but I can’t ignore him any longer.”

Maybe even… good. Better than okay.

“I still have a bunch of my stuff over there. At least half of it is clothes and books, a-and I’ve put it off for as long as I can…”

He hums in response, pulling quiet curses from you, above. Pressing the flat of his tongue onto your clit, your hips jump up and he purrs ; rearing up to dive even deeper into your pussy. Too quick for him, you catch on, hand in his hair to pull him up.

Sitting up on your haunches, he rests his head on your bare thigh – licking the taste of you off of his lips.

You tilt your head, looking at him with those eyes he can’t help but marvel at. A beat passes. 

“...so?” You start, expectantly. “Will you help me or not?”

His response comes in the form of teeth nipping at pillowy skin. You yelp, and swat him away whilst he chuckles.

“I’m serious , Mig. It’s too much to pick up by myself. And you’re the only person I know with a car…”

“ Ouch, hermosa. ” He frowns as you peter off. “Is that the only reason you’re fucking me? For my car?”

“If I say it’s because of your sparkling personality, will you help me?”

For a moment, it seems like he’s got his brows pressed together like he’s seriously considering it, but it ends up being just smoke and mirrors. He’s pretending , biding his time to hook a hand under your legs and force you to lie down onto the bed. Your head hits the covers with a gentle thump as he hikes up the lip of that big tee even further; squeezing your thighs around his head like earmuffs. 

It’s when he makes eye-contact, tongue circling your hole, that you realised you’re fucked. Up until now, he’s been toying with you – playing with his food, so to speak – lazily swirling his tongue around your clit and pressing buttons to see exactly where to push. And you'd welcomed it, a hand in his hair as you talked about your day – which he'd asked for, of course. 

Now, he's insatiable, eating you out like a man starved; all tongue and wet kisses to your swollen bud. You're slightly raised up on his shoulders, clamping around his tongue as he fucks into you fervently. Big palms spread you wider, and he hums into it, content.

"So pretty ," He sets you down, pupils blown as he studies the way your back arches and the way your legs shudder in the sheets. He slides upwards, sitting next to you, tracing a hand across the gentle curve of stomach that peeks out from your big t-shirt. 

Still coming down from your high, you're only just able to register it: he looks mesmerised, a dopey smile plastered on his face. 

"What?" You scoff when a moment passes, and his hand inches closer towards your lower lips. 

"M'just looking." He shrugs, with a little smile on his face. "I'm not allowed to look?" 

You scoff, but you're still shaky so it comes out a little more pathetic than you intend. Nevertheless, you start to sit up but he stops you with a gentle hand at your chest. 

"Call him." He says, pressing two fingers to your clit and then down to your gushing slit. 

Maybe it's the way he hunches over you, eyes flicking towards your lips, or the way he slips those fingers in; but your eyes go wide, and you're choking on your next words. 

"Call… Call who?" Playing dumb, dancing on a razor's edge, and Miguel only quirks up an eyebrow at the stupid question. 

"You know who." He says it low, smooth and dulcet as he curls his fingers at that sweet spot, experimenting. "I'll help you, fine. But I want you to call your ex, too. Let him know when to expect us. Is that okay, sweetheart ?" 

That last word comes with a twang, the lilting tone of what sounds like mockery. He twists the knife, nudging the flat of his palm onto your clit – still tender and throbbing from your last orgasm. 

Before you change your mind, you pick up the phone laid face down on the bedside table, pressing shaky fingers to its screen. You don't dare to look up, knowing Miguel is watching; dark eyes studying your every move. 

Flicking his wrist this way and that, he swallows roughly as your fingers stutter on the screen. Not completely satisfied, he still has the time to look smug, settling into a comfortable pace. Finally, your phone rings with a tell-tale dial tone. It rings once. It rings twice, and–

"Hello? " The voice is muffled as it says your name. Put it on speaker, Miguel mouths and you oblige.

"Hey, J-Jamie." The phone is shaky in your hands, so you lay it out next to you on the bed. 

"It's late, baby." You don't have time to be annoyed at his tone – or the unwarranted pet name – because Miguel speeds up, pumping in and out of you with a little more force. 

"I… I know. S-Sorry." You clamp down the moans that threaten to erupt, rocking your hips in time with the thrusts. 

Head lolling back into the sheets, you spend a good ten seconds in oblivious bliss, until Jamie breaks the silence. 

"You've been ignoring me for ages, baby… and then you call out of the blue. What is it?" He's tired, it sounds like. Irritated for sure. 

"Just w-wanted to–" Miguel presses his thumb to your clit and you jump. Once back down to earth he has to prompt you to answer. "-my stuff! Fuck , I just want to pick up my stuff."

"...now?" 

Tomorrow. Miguel mouths. 

"Tomorrow. " You repeat, wrapping a hand around his forearm to slow him down. It's too much, too fast; and he has the audacity to add another finger, scissoring out to stretch your cunt. 

"O-kay. " He clicks his tongue, with some things rustling in the background. "Okay. You're acting weird, but..."

You're conflicted. His tone makes you melt, reaching for your phone to answer when Miguel snakes a hand under your shirt, palming your tits. To your surprise, he presses shaky kisses to the skin, rolling around your nipple with the flat of his tongue. You keen, clamping a hand around your mouth to stop the noises that spill out. 

"...we still need to talk about what happened. About how we left things." 

Anger flares up at your chest; hot at the sheer gall. He wants to talk? Now, when you had been met with a brick wall of silence; begging and begging for even a simple explanation? 

What made it sting even more was that even after the breakup, everything happened on Jamie's terms. He broke up with you, providing little warning. He completely ghosted you, refusing to answer countless calls and messages. And now, he wants to talk; to make himself feel better and wank off his own ego, no doubt. It's not bitterness that makes you press Miguel closer, to revel in the pleasure that he gives you, you convince yourself. It's for you ; finally, unabashedly, just for you. 

You don't bother to answer, hanging up the call with a click. Tugging at his hair, you pull him off with a wet pop; slick-soaked fingers slipping out of your cunt.

He cradles your chin, angling you upwards. 

"You okay? Too much?" It barely registers; you're too focused on the tangle of curls framing his face, and the rosy pout of messy lips. 

You shake your head, writhing against the sheets. 

"More." You move his hand over to rest between your legs. "Please, Miguel."

His eyes flutter, tongue darting out to wet his lips. 

“Eyes on me, baby.” 

He says it with sobering clarity, bolstered by just how precisely he slots against your bare pussy. You can feel it, the full length of his cock; pressed up against you as he slips it out of his sweats. Head spinning, it slaps onto your stomach. Your eyes practically bulge out of their sockets. Oh fuck. He's big. 

"Just like that." He coos, spitting into his palm and pumping his cock. “Wanna see how pretty you look when I make you cum.”

~~~

When tomorrow comes, you’re still sore from the litany of bruises and hickeys littered. It’s a Saturday, and you’re up bright and early. Well, Miguel is up bright and early, clattering around in the kitchen as you wake up. 

He seems energised, mug of coffee in hand whilst you rub the sleep from your eyes.  You waltz into the kitchen through the open doorway, morning breath and all. 

"Morning," You say, soft and giggly at the way he jumps ten feet in the air, too wrapped up in himself to notice at first. 

"Morning." He breathes, melting when he sees you in the shirt he had picked out for you last night. He shakes himself out of it. "Hungry? I can make something."

"No, no. M'good." You sidle up to the counter, head clocked at the fancy machine on the heavy slab. There's a question on the tip of your tongue, one you roll between your teeth. "Could I have some coffee? I mean… could you show me how?" 

Where you expect laughter, mockery, or surprise that you've lived here for months and can't figure out the coffee machine; he nods, patient and calm. You ask him more questions; curious with every flick of a switch, and the way he lights up when talking about it. To your surprise, you want to know more – anyway that comes. 

He's talking about expensive beans, and his favourite roasts – and a place across town that sells the exact kind he likes, but it's too fucking gentrified for him to go there more than two or three times a year. That makes you giggle: his little pout, the press of brow; and he looks up in surprise before joining you in light laughter. 

You finish, pouring cream into his special mug with a flourish, and he steals a sip before you can. You elbow him away, angling for that stolen taste. When you do, it is deep and rich; sweet in a way that reminds you of Miguel, grounded and balanced and silky. In short, it's the perfect cup of coffee. More than content, you hum. 

"Is it good?" He asks because he's already making mental notes, planning to greet you with a hot flask of the stuff in the mornings – if it means he gets that smile, of course. 

"Very." Fervently you nod, lips curved to the ceramic as you blow; and Miguel is trying really hard not to stare. Maybe it's the fact that he's seen you in a way not everyone gets to; pretty and vulnerable and writhing on the tip of his cock; but it has him fending off vivid daydreams. Your lips wrapped around his length, his hand pressing you further down, feeling that warmth as you choke on his–

He blinks and you're gone, padding off to your room with that mug of coffee. You return not too long after, phone in hand and tapping away at the screen. Miguel ignores the way it makes him feel, having your attention and then losing it just as quickly. Like a kicked puppy, he resists the urge to beg for more – of your time, of your attention – turning away to clean up instead. 

"I spoke to Jamie," You start, leaning with your back to the counter as he rolls up the sleeves of a comfy sweater. "He said he'll be around later in the evening, after his shift. Around 10. Is that okay?" 

He shrugs, not caring either way. You're a friend, and he's helping you because that's what friends do. He can still taste you on his lips, but it doesn't mean anything. Not in a way you'd want, anyways. 

"Sure." He doesn't turn around, stealing glances at the open window whilst he clatters around. "I've got a session later on anyways."

He catches a flash of something on your face, and you're pushing it away; prickly and uncomfortable. In his defence, he's stopped bringing people over for faux chemistry tutoring and there's less banging coming from across the wall. Less , but not completely gone, because you've learnt he has a penchant for dropping shit and cursing like someone's Dad. 

But you can't help but think about Sarah , and Jia …. and how close he would get to Sita on the dining table. Fuck . 

You're sighing now, tracing the curve of his jaw as he settles in front of the window: jaw set, arms crossed, and distant. He does that sometimes, goes off somewhere else – all teeth and claws. Tense, brows drawn up in a way that makes you want to smooth them out.  

You put your phone down and mug away, sliding across linoleum to gently nudge his shoulder with your own. 

"Are we…" He starts, and you track his line of sight to a quiet street below. He hums, without looking away. "Are we good?" 

It makes you turn. You blink, as if out of all the nonsense you bicker about daily, that was the most ridiculous. Good? Good? Of course we are, of course we always will be. How could we be anything else? You shut it down before it spills out of your mouth, overzealous and desperate. 

He clarifies with a nervous cough. "Last night. Was it… good?" 

His frown deepens, and you wonder if it's just you that hears it in his tone. His real question, the one that makes you splinter and creak like a felled oak tree: Was I good? Am I good enough?

"Yeah. " You say it like the most obvious thing in the world – and to you, it is. For all his flaws; assholery and its trimmings aside; Miguel has never been a bad lay. You don't even think he has it in him; he couldn't half-ass it if he tried.

"It was–" Fucking amazing . The kind of thing you'll fuck yourself to for the foreseeable future. Cathartic and breath-taking and hot . All of the above. 

Miguel finishes your sentence with something a little less… horny. "It was a lot, wasn't it? I wasn't really thinking, how uncomfortable it could be for you, and–" 

Gently, you laugh and cut him off. "I've been having mediocre sex for basically the whole of my adult life, Mig. This is… exciting and new. I like it, I really do."

Exciting and new. It brings him crashing back down to earth. You're enjoying the way he makes you feel, the thrill . Not… him. Not really, anyways. That pang of disappointment feels different, for some reason. He's never liked the song and dance of flirting, but he cherishes its rewards: of being wanted, and someone wanting him . So that fiery flame of need; deep and heady; is unfamiliar under his skin. 

"We can slow down, if you'd like." You bring a hand to his arm, warm and gentle. "I don't mind. We can go back to just messing around on the couch…."

You've got a cheeky smile when you say it; a vague memory of a different time, when you had gotten a little too comfortable on the sofa, leading to hands stuffed in trousers and pressed up against one another. Quick and desperate, you had wanted to see him fall apart; like he did your first night together, and the next, and the next. 

He gets closer, sandwiching you between the counter and his body. With a gentle hand, he strokes your hip, bunching up the fabric to get a peek of thigh.

“What do you like?” He’s deadly serious, red-brown eyes searching your face for something he can’t quite place. And just like that, the air is thick with tension. All you can manage is a limp shrug. 

“I don’t know, really.” It comes out as a croak , as you’re much too occupied with the shrinking gap between you both. “I haven’t done the things you’ve done.”

You’re making assumptions, of course. Filling in the gaps of what you’ve learnt in the past few months; of alleged threesomes and a laundry list of women at his feet. He’s an asshole; pretty and gruff and sarcastic; but God , he knows how to touch you just right.

“I could show you.” He slots a knee between your thighs and your head spins. “Make you feel good. ”

Before you can think, you’re nodding; chewing at your lip to bite back moans when he rucks up your shirt. He nudges your legs apart, both hands on your waist as he slots himself between them. You can feel it; quickly hardening, loose underneath sweats. Miguel slides wide palms to your ass, kneading its globes. With one hand, he picks up your leg by the thigh, and snakes the other to your pussy. Bare, because you’re trying to kill him, of course, and he groans at the feeling of his hand at your cunt; already wet and pliant for him. 

After a few wet taps to your hole, obscene, he slips himself out and you heave; pussy fluttering at just the thought of him inside you. Gathering up your slick on his palm, Miguel pumps his weeping cock, pressing its tip to your hole. 

"Still sore, Miguel." You hiss, looking down at where you both meet with the prettiest pout he thinks he's ever seen. 

It has you clawing at his back for purchase as he finally sinks in, stretching you out in that wonderful way he did last night. Except this time, he's slow and careful; steeling himself with shaky breaths. 

"Oh, fuck. " He settles in about halfway, stopping to hike up your leg just a bit higher. "Want me to make you feel better?" 

He says it breathless and crooning, forehead comes to rest on yours. With that other hand flat on the counter, you're lifted up to only toes on the floor, and he angles himself to buck up; filling you deep, and cock sliding past that sweet spot inside. He sets a pace, grinding into you, rather than fucking. If last night was dirty ; taboo, quick and primal; then this morning feels different. Intimate and reverent, he rolls his hips perfectly ; sending flashes of that first night down your spine. 

With the moans that spill out of your mouth, it takes all of Miguel's willpower not to swallow them in a kiss. Impossibly close, he traces up your thigh with a large palm; eventually pressing into the small of your back. Arching into him, your lips barely brush together, and you're both panting into open mouths; drunk on pleasure. 

"Miguel." There's a warning somewhere in your tone; underneath the layers of lust, you remind him of your previous agreement. 

"I… I know. " He swallows, nose pressed to yours, eyes screwed shut. He thinks if he opens them, he might spill into you right then and there. 

He's trying, he really is, tracing your cheek with his nose and mouthing at your neck – light kisses against the skin. He smells like coffee, bittersweet and heady, and you groan, rocking into him in a way that rubs up against your clit – before finding an ounce of restraint and putting a hand to his neck. 

You apply a little pressure, intending to push him away, but he likes it: eyes fluttering open, and mouth curved into a little O. It's a pretty sight that has you drooling, tits pressed against him as he practically purrs . And so, you pull him closer; nails dancing underneath his shirt, whispering filth into the shell of his ear. You're close, grinding into him like the push and pull of waves, merely waiting for the crescendo of orgasm to take you out to sea. 

"I'm close, Miguel." All he can do is hum, pulling you closer. "Fuck, I feel so good. You make me feel so good."

"Yeah? " He asks, needy in a way you haven't quite seen before. 

"M'gonna cum," You nod. "...because of you, baby. You did good. So good. Shit, ohh –g-god–" 

You clamp down on him, gushing around him with shaky legs. And Miguel is good; patient as he watches you fuck yourself through the aftermath. When it finally slows, he slips out with an obscene squelch clamping a hand to the base of his cock and leaning heavily on the counter. 

"It's okay," As if on cue, you kneel in front of him as best you can, tugging down your shirt to expose collarbone and the swell of tits. 

Miguel growls, grunting as he splatters thick cum across your chest, pumping his poor cock through it. 

He wouldn't have lasted a second longer, not with that smile across your face; smug as you swipe fingers across your chest and lick up the mess he's made. 

He's sighing, tucking himself back into gray sweats and pulling you up with a hand in yours; grumbling as you absentmindedly follow him to the sofa. 

You're leaning back onto the arm of the tattered material, and he settles to sit so your legs lay in his lap. He's frowning, again, and it makes you giggle, still licking up what's left on your fingers. 

He rolls his eyes, tapping a spot on your chin. A fat glob of his cum, dripping from your jaw to your neck. You miss it on the first swipe, and he gets impatient on the second, grabbing your hands and clambering over you. He drags the flat of his tongue to your skin, licking it up for you – and your eyes go wide. That… that felt good. 

You giggle at the sensation, so attuned to your roommate that you can hear it: his eyes clattering into the back of his skull, as he rolls his eyes a second time. 

"Is that okay?" He says it into the skin, pausing over a particularly tender spot. "Not too far?" 

"Feels nice, Mig." You sigh, content. Sun streams in on a lazy morning, and you're sore in the kind of way that feels good; fucked out and blissful. 

You lean into it, and then he sucks , teeth clashing onto the skin as he gives you a hickey and the juncture of your jaw. You wriggle, and he pins you down with one big hand holding down your arm, nipping and kissing and soothing it with a flash of tongue. This time he smiles, wrapping around your middle, tugging down your shirt to decorate your chest with hickeys. You play with his hair, wrapping soft curls between your fingers. 

You spend a little too long like that; curved into him, spines moulded to the shape of each other. It feels nicer than either of you would care to admit; the pretense of sex wrapped around you both like a thin veil. Before he leaves, Miguel indulges himself just this once; head on your chest and sinking into those arms wrapped around him. You smell like coffee and sweat and Autumn, somehow. He presses kisses wherever he can reach, for a bit longer. 

Miguel is okay. He's doing just fine. 

_

_

-

Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka @melovetitties @yohoe-hoe @acollectionofcells1 @froggi-mushroom @thund3rthighs

@bonthebunnie @natthernandez @strawberrymiguel @twwcs @mammonispunk @um-well @renn-pumkin-head @ietherealkistar @smallishbook @sonderspider @spear-bitch @cryingintheclubdhmu @mageneire @notdyl4n @slezhara @funkyfoxx0 @smol-beb @iceclaw101 @lixhizy @errorundyne-exe @707xn @beantokki@twentysomethingwereyote

[sodaabaa]

reunited a court of thorns and roses

rhysand x reader after reader is taken by tamlin, she yearns for the day she can be reunited with her mate.

tw: none

Five months. That’s how long I’d been trapped with Tamlin and his court of thorns. Once upon a time I was happy here, happy with him. Now, it took everything I had to control myself from scratching his eyes out every time he looked at me. Every word he said, every condescending explanation he gave me as to why he thought, why he believed that Rhys had manipulated my mind, drove me insane. Leaving this godforsaken place with Rhys all those months ago was the best decision I’d ever made. Now I was stuck here all over again. Caged in a rose covered prison, suffocated by piles of tulle and chiffon and silk.  

I hadn’t shown Tamlin, or anyone, any of the powers I had. I didn’t tell him what I was. Rhys and Amren had figured out that I was an angel. Centuries before the fae emerged, angels ruled the heavens and the Earth. Once the fae were created after years of evolution, the angels died out. But while the physical form of these beings may cease to exist, their souls don’t. Their souls are still here, roaming through the heavens. I guess the angels knew war was imminent in my lifetime so they breathed an angel’s soul into me when I was born and I’d gone all those years unknowing of what I was, what I was capable of. Until I had found out what Amarantha had done to Rhys. 

As if one cue, a piece of paper appeared on my nightstand with a coal black pen. 

“You’re thinking about me aren’t you” I could hear his arrogant smirk in those words.

I smiled, that bastard always knew, even if we were thousands of miles apart. I picked up the pen to write back but as I was doing so, the door opened and I quickly hid it under my pillow. My smile fell.

“I brought you some paints.” Tamlin paused, unsure of what to say next.

I merely looked out the window and said, “I have no inspiration.”

He frowned, “you’re in the Court of Spring, what more inspiration do you need?” 

The swirling night sky. The shimmering golden lights of the City of Starlight. His black, satin wings that carried the midnight sky with him. 

Oh, how sweet, your description of my city and my wings flatters me darling. 

I had to dig my nails into my palms to keep from smiling like a fool. 

Tamlin must have taken great offense to my comment, he left without giving me a chance to respond. Good. 

I anxiously pulled out the pen and paper. 

“He could have seen the note, be careful next time you prick.” 

I set the items on the desk and within seconds it vanished, and reappeared just as fast.

“I miss bickering with you. I miss you.” Such simple words yet my heart ached with longing.

I wrote back, “I miss you too. Just a few more days, I need to convince him to side with us.”

The paper vanished and never returned. 

I shifted in the bed I’d been in for hours, refusing to socialize with anyone at the manor. Everyone was blindly loyal to Tamlin and I knew if I left the manor grounds, they’d instantly report to him so I had no reason to even bother faking a smile towards those vipers. I looked out to the night sky, it wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the velvety blue skies of the Night Court but it was still a reminder of who ruled those skies and it comforted me regardless. With that thought, I fell into a deep sleep.

The voices of Tamlin and Lucien could be heard from a mile away. They were arguing over my freedom. I paused on the stairs, my blush pink dress swaying with the movement.

“How long are you going to keep her locked up hm? You can’t keep her here forever.” Lucien spat.

“Until Rhysand isn’t a problem anymore. Until I know he won’t come to take her again.” 

I rolled my eyes. Imagine being deluded enough to think you could beat Rhys, the most powerful High Lord in history. I scoffed. Their heads turned in my direction. I covered it by clearing my throat and smiling, resuming my path down the stairs.

“Good morning my love.” I held back a gag. 

Tamlin smiled, the fool really thought I was in love with him. “Good morning, we were just finishing up our conversation.” He shot a pointed look at Lucien. 

I smiled, lips in a thin line. He wanted to keep me locked up like a prisoner, still. 

I took a seat between Tamlin and Lucien. “Can we speak in private please Tamlin.” 

He gave me an exhausted look, he knew what I was going to ask. Despite that, he sent Lucien away with a wave of his hand. 

“I know what you want to say and you already know my answer.” He said.

I stood up and slammed my hands on the table, rattling the silverware.

“It’s been three months since I saw something outside these walls. Send an escort of guards with me if you want but let me go somewhere, anywhere.” I shouted.

He looked at me through his brows. “You know better than me, I could send an army of guards with you and Rhysand would slice through the brigade like butter to take you away. I won’t risk it.”

He was standing now, trying to intimidate me into compliance. 

“And I won’t be kept here like a prisoner! In what world is this love?”

“I’m protecting you!” He growled

“You’re suffocating me!” I yelled.

“Enough. There will be no further conversation about this matter.” 

I stilled. And then I felt it. I could sense him before he’d even arrived. I looked past Tamlin and to the doorway. 

Rhys. 

He was standing tall, his hands in his pockets, ever the nonchalant High Lord. His violet eyes looked over me head to toe, scanning for any signs of injuries. 

Tamlin must have noticed I was looking past him and turned. He moved to shield me, beginning to shift into a beast. I didn’t pay any attention to it. Every bone, every nerve, every cell in my body was shouting for me to run to him. So I did.

Tamlin shouted after me and guards ran in but they froze as soon as they ran into the room. It felt as if I’d been running for miles before I crashed into his chest, he stumbled back but his arms wrapped around me and lifted me up. My entire being relaxed into the embrace as I held him tight. 

“Miss me?” He breathed into my ear. 

Tears welled in my eyes as I nodded into his neck. He let me down just as Tamlin was approaching, rage burning in his eyes.

I stood in front of Rhys as Tamlin began charging. I crossed my arms and Tamlin met with a wall of light. He bounced back but got up instantly. Like twin flames, Rhys and I let out our wings, his midnight black wings contrasting with my soft white.

Tamlin froze, he hadn’t known about my abilities.

“What are you doing? He’s manipulating you, turning you against me.”

I scoffed. “You turned me against you.” 

“I love you.” He said in a not so loving tone. 

“Rhys loves me. And I him.” 

Unexpectedly, he shoved me away and lunged for Rhys who easily dodged his advances.

“You’ve gone soft Tamlin.” Rhys taunted. 

Tamlin lunged again, this time he managed to grab Rhys, who was unimpressed. 

“I’m going to skin you alive.” He said through his teeth.

Rhys merely rolled his eyes and looked at me as if to say, ‘look at this guy.’ 

Rhys grabbed Tamlins arms and twisted them, kneeing him in the gut and throwing him onto the floor all in one swift motion.

“You’re gonna have to try a lot harder to even land a punch, dear Tamlin.”

This time, Tamlin didn’t get back up. Rhys was holding him down with his mind. 

“We’ll spare your life on one condition.” I spoke to him. 

His nose flared, he’d rather die than submit to Rhys.

“You ally yourself and your army with us for the war. Hybern will slaughter your people and take your court as soon as the war is over and you know it. Don’t lead hundreds of innocent lives towards their death because of a grudge you hold towards Rhys.” I continued.

“I’d sooner die than work with him. And you. After all I did for you, traitor.” He spat.

I could feel the anger roll off Rhys. He stepped in front of me but I grabbed his arm.

“After all you did? After Amarantha, I was wasting away. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t breathe. And all you did was lock me up like a caged animal. You couldn’t even look at me longer than a second.” My voice rose.

“Do you know what the first thing Rhys did to me when he took me away on our wedding day?” I didn’t give him the time to respond.

“He looked at me, listened to me, he made me feel alive again. It’s ironic isn’t it? Living in the Spring Court where all bloom to life. Except me. I withered away like a dead rose. But I blossomed with Rhys at the Night Court, the realm of death so many call it, but it breathed life into me again.” 

Tamlin stared, blank. “Go to hell.” 

With that, I left the Manor and let Rhys have his fun. 

We landed in Velaris, my beloved City of Starlight. I was ecstatic and Rhys felt it as we walked up the steps to the town house. Home. The word kept repeating in my head, I still couldn’t believe it. 

When we walked in, we were greeted by Cassian, Mor, Azriel, and Amren. They kneeled as we stood in the doorway. 

My hand slipped from Rhys’ and I ran towards them, dropping to my knees. 

“Please don’t kneel. I just want a hug from each of you.” Tears fell from my eyes. I missed these four with my whole heart. Last I’d seen them, Cassian’s wings had been shattered, Azriel and Mor were bloody and bruised. I was worried sick. 

They all hugged me at once, I was squished in between the four of them. I let out a laugh as we withdrew from the group hug and Rhys chuckled behind me. 

“You bastards never react that way when I come home.” He walked towards us. 

Amren sent daggers at him with her eyes.

“Maybe we don’t like you as much Rhys.” Cassian said. 

“Then maybe you can find a place at the Court of Nightmares instead of Velaris, Cas. They’d be happy to take in an invalid such as yourself.” He threw. 

Cassian shook his head laughing. “You’d miss me too much.” 

The five of them began to bicker, their voices booming throughout the house. My eyes fleeted between them, trying to keep track of who was saying what. 

I smiled, It felt like I never left. 

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Masterlist✨ A03

Hi! I’m Jamie and welcome to my blog! If you’d like updates for my work, my updates page is @mermaidgirl30-updates. I mostly write about Pedro Pascal characters. Always looking to converse about music, writing, video games, Pedro Pascal, really just anything ☺️ I am always open for requests and asks and will do my best to answer them 🩵 Dividers and Masterlist main pic by @saradika-graphics

~I DO NOT CONSENT TO ANYBODY USING MY STORIES OR REPOSTING THEM IN ANY AI OR ANY OTHER WEBSITE!~

✨One Shots/Drabbles✨

Avalanche: Wolf! Joel Drabble

Always In My Heart: Losing a pet is never easy, but you’re not alone because Joel is right there with you, keeping you afloat.

Birthday Blues: Joel spends his birthday sulking on the porch, regretting the mistakes of his past. Just when he thinks he’ll spend his birthday alone, you come around and turn his cloudy skies into sunshine.

Caught In the Act: Thinking you’re home alone, you decide to unwind in bed, but the last thing you expect is to have Joel Miller, the man you’re renting a room from, find you naked in bed.

Clouded Skies Drabble

Comfort in His Arms: A little Drabble about enjoying the sunrise while you’re being comforted and held by Joel. Soft, gentle, warm. He’s your forever.

Crimson Ties: Joel was a creature of the night, a monster who begged to be released from his curse. He wasn’t a good man, didn’t think he deserved anything that shined light on his dark soul. But there was you, the girl he so desperately wanted to stick around, if only for one more night.

Dominate Me: dom! reader x sub! Joel. You dominate Joel in the bedroom, and he takes every demand you give him.

Fading Into Lilac Skies: You never meant to fall for your boyfriend’s dad, but it happened. You just couldn’t stay away from those shades of blue and grey. But your favorite thing was turning them the color your soul was. Lilac.

Fall Into the Dark With Me: You’ve had your eyes on the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor for a while. Just like he’s had his eyes on you. He’s a sly, sneaky, teasing Slytherin, and you’re a shy, meek Hufflepuff. Will your little flirting game suddenly lead to more once he gets you alone in a room?

Happy One Year, Baby: You forget your one year anniversary with Joel and don’t remember until you see a dozen roses with a love note left on your doorstep. Since he’s away on a work trip, you decide to get all dolled up to give him a little show over FaceTime

Haunt Me: Joel isn’t all that he seems. He might be dead, might be a ghost, might somehow just be trapped in a curse, but you find him. You always find him.

Her Bodyguard, His Shining Star: You’re performing at Coachella, throwing winks and flirting with your eyes as Joel Miller watches you from the side of the stage. He’s your bodyguard, and he should know better, but he wants you just as much as you want him.

I’ve Got You, Baby Girl: After suffering all day alone with cramps, Joel comes home from work to take care of you and gives you exactly what you need.

Jealousy, Jealousy: After having a bad breakup with Joel Miller, you decide you need a night to relax at the bar and find someone new. Little do you know, Joel is there and he’s not alone. Will you let your jealousy get the best of you or will you get revenge with another man at the bar?

Love and Coffee in the Mornings: This one's just a short fluffy/smutty one shot that's filled with morning love between Joel and reader.

My Heart I Surrender: Feelings and words never come easy to Joel, but they come out slowly and surely for you. So much angst coming off the pages on this story, and it's all in Joel's POV.

My Paper Heart Will Fold: Joel fights himself over his feelings for you, not wanting to admit they’re there. He finally comes to blatant terms that he can’t lose you. He can’t ever lose you. Not ever.

My, My, Such a Sweet Surprise: When you stumble upon a cute little property with a farmer’s market, you get more than you bargain for when you meet the man with honeysuckle eyes and a thick Southern drawl that makes you weak in the knees.

On My Knees for You: You’re supposed to be getting ready for a Halloween party, but maybe you’ll just have to be late because all you can think about is getting on your knees and making Joel Miller feel so good.

Pulled by the Scarlet Reins: In the hate filled town of Salem, no one is safe. With accusations flying daily, no one is spared from speculation. When the blame is pointed at you, who will be there to defend you?

Run Rabbit: At the beginning of every month, you meet Joel to play a little game of hide and seek at the abandoned mansion near Jackson. It’s not just any game of hide and seek though. It’s dark and it’s twisted. If he catches you, he gets to do whatever he wants with you.

Show Some Self Control: It's your birthday, and Joel can't deny you from wanting to explore being with another woman, so he indulges. He sits and watches, but he can't hold back for long. Not with the way your body is writhing against the damp sheets.

Soft: Just a little Drabble about Joel being in love. So very soft.

Stay in the Light: Joel gets injured after a raider attack, and he’s wishing he could’ve told you all the feelings he held back from you for so long

Take Me to Wonderland: You find yourself in Wonderland, but you think you’ve been here before. And the handsome stranger, Joel Miller, is someone that definitely seems familiar.

Teach Me a Lesson, Mr. Miller: Tonight, you planned for beer, loud music, and sloppy sex with one of your hot college classmates. Instead, you get your best friend’s dad putting you in your place.

Tongue Tied: Your dad’s best friend, Joel Miller, finds you in the kitchen eating some cherries. For your birthday, he gives you something that’ll make you a little tongue tied.

Welcome to the Moulin Rouge: Welcome to the Moulin Rouge where touches and gazing eyes turn to feelings and longing that overpower all senses. That’s where Joel meets you, the girl of all his desires. The girl that starts a fire inside him that he can’t control. But he’s not the only one after her. No. And he’ll have to share even though it destroys him.

✨Series✨

Can You Please Be Mine?: (Ongoing multiple part series)

No Outbreak!Joel x fem! reader

It’s a hot summer’s day in Austin, and you’re cooling off by having a cold ice cream cone while riding the carousel at the fair. You see a handsome, older man that you think is just the hottest man you’ve ever seen, and you just wonder what it’d be like if he took you home with him.

Captured in the Woods:

(Ongoing multiple part series)

Joel Miller x fem! reader

Joel books a nice secluded Airbnb cabin out in the middle of Southwest Texas to get a little alone time with you for a weekend. Little do you know, you’re not alone. You’re being stalked by a deranged family, and you’re going to have to fight your way to make it out alive.

Crimson Tango: A Dance of Diamonds and Revenge: (Ongoing multiple part series)

Moulin Rouge Joel x fem! reader

Joel Miller doesn’t know what awaits him as he takes on a maintenance job at the Moulin Rouge. He doesn’t know he’ll meet the absolute love of his life, the Sparkling Diamond, as his world comes crashing down around him fast. Will he be able to stay away when he’s warned not to touch the dancers? Will he listen or will he challenge that pull that draws him to the one thing that sets his soul on fire?

Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller: (Ongoing multiple part series)

dbf! Joel x fem! reader

After going out with your classmate from graduate school, Mr. Miller doesn’t take so kindly to your date when he sees you out and about with the college jock. Will the older, attractive man you’ve been pining after for years finally give you what you’ve been wanting for so long? The only problem is that he’s your dad’s best friend.

Dancing With Fire: (Ongoing multiple part series)

maintenance man! Joel x ballet dancer fem! reader

You’re starring in the ballet Swan Lake, taking on the lead role in New York at a huge theater. You practice day and night and are always staying after hours. One day you notice the hot maintenance worker, Joel, and you can’t seem to keep your eyes off him. Lucky for you, he can’t keep his eyes off you either.

Dark Shades of Innocence Lost: (Completed)

pleasure dom! Joel x fem/sub! reader

After your friends drag you out to Club Inferno on a Friday night, you meet an unexpected man with dark brown eyes. That man is Joel Miller, who turns out to be the owner of the club. The menace that will turn your life upside down. After not dating for a couple of years, Joel finds out and strikes up a proposition for you. Keep coming back and he’ll make sure you experience pleasure like you’ve never felt before.

Deep Blue: (Ongoing multiple part series)

Diver! Joel Miller x marine biologist! FOC

Swimming with great white sharks was always on your bucket list. Now that you’ve graduated with your master’s degree in marine biology, that’s the only thing you want to do. Luckily your friend, Jenna, pulls some strings and gets you on a private shark diving tour. What she didn’t tell you was that your diving guide, Joel Miller, was going to be ridiculously hot. Will you survive the dive or will you end up falling for the man of your dreams?

Destined Hearts: (Ongoing multiple part series)

Joel Miller x fem! reader

After a messy break up with Joel, the two of you cross paths again unexpectedly at the lake. Everything seems to fall back into place, and you slowly start to fall back in love with him. Maybe he just might be your forever.

Enchant Me: (Ongoing multiple part series)

soft! Joel x witchy garden fem! reader

Joel delivers a custom built table to a little house out in the middle of the woods, but he doesn’t realize he’s going to fall for the girl behind the doors of that small purple house. He falls head over heels for her special herbal tea, tarot card readings, and talks of nature and plants as he keeps going back to see her.

Her Bodyguard, His Shining Star: (Ongoing multiple part series)

Bodyguard! Joel Miller x singer fem! reader

Joel’s your broad, handsome bodyguard that you flirt with and secretly dream about. Little do you know, he can’t seem to keep his eyes or his hands off you for long. The two of you should know better, but after Coachella it’s so obvious that you can’t stay away from one another. Could he be your end game?

Just Breathe: The Dinosaur Diaries: (Ongoing multiple part series)

paleontologist! Joel x fem researcher! reader

After going under the wings of doctor Miller, the hottest paleontologist you’ve ever seen, he takes you on a little adventure as his research assistant. You’ll get more than just knowledge and dinosaurs, you’ll also end up getting the sweet scientist who can’t seem to keep his hands off you.

Look for the Light: (Completed)

outbreak! Joel x fem! reader

Aly finds herself trying to escape the Boston QZ. What Aly doesn’t know is Tess is pairing her up with Joel to go on a dangerous mission to find Tommy. Will Aly survive the brooding, moody Joel or will she find herself falling hard for him?

Love Amidst the Blue: (Ongoing multiple part series)

sailor! Joel x mermaid fem! reader

Joel sets out on the Tyrrhenian Sea with his crew in search for hidden treasure. What he doesn’t know is that he’ll meet a beautiful mermaid that will turn his world upside down. Will he win her over or will he introduce a long ago foe to the mermaids of the hidden underwater city of Capri?

Royalty Clad in Silver Armor: (Ongoing multiple part series)

knight! Joel x princess fem! reader

You’re the royal princess of Ireland and your parents are hounding you to find a suitable man to marry. Joel gets placed as your protector (knight in shining armor) and swears an oath to put your life before his own. But after meeting him for the first time, you don’t want to leave him alone. In fact, you can’t help but to pine after him, even though he is off limits to you.

Saddle Me Up, Cowboy: (Ongoing Mini Series)

Cowboy! Joel Miller x fem! reader

One night at the country western bar was all it took for you to fall head over heels for the sweet cowboy that swept you off your feet. Little did you know, he may be what you’ve been after your entire life.

Saving What Was Lost: (Ongoing multiple part series)

You never expected to get auctioned off in a room full of filthy rich, vile men after being taken over a year ago, but it happened. And the man that buys you, the one with soft brown eyes, just might’ve saved your life. He doesn’t want to hurt you. No. He wants to show you what it’s like to fall back in love with life.

Slip Into Me: (Completed)

QZ! Joel x fem! reader

After getting caught by a FEDRA soldier in the QZ, a certain broad smuggler comes to your rescue. He’s not at all what you expect. He’s reserved, intense, and intimidating. But you soon find out he’s not all brick walls and harsh words like you thought. You just might be the one that tears down his walls and helps him see the light again in a torn up, infected world.

Somersaults and Stealing Hearts: (Ongoing multiple part series)

Coach! Joel Miller x gymnast fem! OFC

Being a competitive gymnast at UT Austin is nothing short of hard work and dedication, but winning Nationals is all I’ve ever wanted, so I stick out the long, grueling practices. When my favorite coach leaves for another job, just when I need her most, another coach has to fill in. And that coach ends up being Joel Miller. The tall, handsome man with pretty brown eyes that I just can’t seem to keep my eyes off. I won’t let an attractive man get me distracted from what I want, but what if I end up wanting him too?

Tear You Apart: (Completed)

Outbreak! Joel x fem! reader

Joel comes for you late at night. He always does. Always stalks, chases, and prowls after you like a starving wolf. And when he catches you, he devours you, feeds on you like the animal he is. Will you run and hide or will you give into the temptation that calls you into the forest?

✨One Shots✨

Guiding Light: You watch Marcus avenge himself week after week in the pit of the arena, but how much longer will it take to make you snap? How much longer can you go on watching when he’s the only man you want?

✨One Shots✨

Javi’s Playground: Javi decides to blow off some steam at the strip club, but he doesn’t intend to attempt to take one of the dancers home with him.

✨Moodboards✨

Colors 💜

Infra-Red ❤️

[tropinano]

List of As Many Fiction Podcasts As I Could Think Of

NOT ORGANIZED! This is a big list of fiction podcasts with no descriptions, meant for the sole purpose of picking one based on the title and just trying it out. Just a big ol' list of titles. Kindof like a blind date! Explore a couple of the ones that intrigue you and come back later for more.

The Hotel

The Night Post

I am in Eskew

Whisperling

Residents of Proserpina Park

The Daedalus Compound

EOS10

The Magnus Archives

Francis Forever

SMILE GROVE

Janus Descending

The Godfrey Audio Guide

Old Gods of Appalachia

Camp Here & There

The Way We Haunt Now

Jack of All Trades

SUPERSUITS

Illuminati Interns

Death by Dying

Life with Leo(h)

Hello from the Hallowoods

Malevolent

The 12:37

Spirit Box Radio

Lost Terminal

Desperado

Neighbourly

The Switchboard

The Mistholme Museum of Mystery, Morbidity and Mortality

Aurora Everlasting

The Swashbuckling Ladies Debate Society

CARAVAN

The Amelia Project

Jar of Rebuke

Monstrous Agonies

Where the Stars Fell

Kisses In The Dark

The Town Whispers

Uncommon Commons

The Author's Anathema

Elevator Pitch

Brimstone Valley Mall

Kane & Feels

Middle:Below

The McIlwraith Statements

Caledonian Gothic

I have seen Niagara

Petrified

In Darkness Vast

The Outside Tapes

Seren

Gather the Suspects

This Foul Earth

John from Home

Glasgow Ghost Stories

The Tower

The Antique Shop

either

Tales from Aletheian Society

The Secret of St Kilda

The Green Horizon

Road X

THE NOWHERE MALL

Seven of Hearts

The Department of Variance of Somewhere, Ohio

SubverCity Transmit

The Nuclear Solution

Inkwyrm

Jim Robbie and the Wanderers

Burst

With Caulk and Candles

This Planet Needs a Name

The Glass Appeal

Mar's Best Brisket

Nym's Nebulous Notions

Midnight Radio

The Bright Sessions

When Angels Visit Armadillo

The Mysterious Secrets of Uncle Bertie's Botanarium

Nowhere, On Air

Dark Ages

Welcome to Night Vale

The Silt Verses

Care & Feeding of Werewolves

The Bridge

The Far Meridian

ars PARADOXICA

Among the Stars and Bones

Counterbalance

Primordial Deep

Hannahpocalypse

Someone dies in this Elevator

Mabel

Seen and Not Heard

Abyss FM

Bodies in Space

Among the Stacks

Station Arcadia

Station Blue

Mnemosyne

Wolf 359

Tranthologies

Mx Bad Luck

SAYER

Limetown

What will be here?

Wake of Corrosion

The Pasithea Powder

SINKHOLE

Tell No Tales

The Vesta Clinic

Dreamboy

Georgie Romero is Done For

The Domestic Life of Anthony Todd

Alice isn't Dead

Stellar Firma

Unwell

The Strange Case of Starship Iris

The Heart of Ether

The Orbiting Human Circus

Wooden Overcoats

Greater Boston

Valence

Moonbase Theta Out

The Penumbra Podcast

Desert Skies

Deviser

Leaving Corvat

Red Valley

Back Again Back Again

Sidequesting

[luvtak]

seasons of love, hhj

✦ pairing hyunjin x reader

✦ genre/tw FLUFF! FLUFF! ONE MORE TIME SAY IT WITH ME! FLUFF!!! hyunjin and mc are very much in love! hyunjin is said to be taller than mc and have bigger hands. lots of kisses and i love yous. suggestive in a couple places. in and out of present and past tense lol. overall very sweet and lovely--hyunjin and mc falling in love through the seasons

✦ w/c 2412

✦ a/n okay so! this is a rewrite of something i posted springtime last year and i hated it lol. this time around i am very proud of hyune and mc and they’re love story and i hope you all love it too!! I've spent months adding scenes and taking them away until I got here <3 please like and reblog, and please please reach out if you have any ideas or questions or just wanna talk!! love you guys forever, mwah!!

He came to you in the Summer, bringing with him music and dancing, and so much laughter you forget how serious falling in love can be.

There is just something about warm weather. It could be the sun shining over your beloved, lighting them up like a god or a king, maybe it’s just that the temperature resembles the touch of your lover’s caress, or that the awakened world is made for romance. It was early July, and everything was blue and sunny; days were filled with jokes and getting to know each other over hot days and cold drinks. Confessions given on front porches and whispered under blue skies—a million firsts bundled up as the heat went away.

He tells you he likes you so quietly, whispering in his sweet little voice, “would you like to go out sometime?” 

The way his tall frame looked against the paint palette sunset would live in your head forever; pretty hair and long legs, the sweetest smile curving up to his crescent moon eyes. Looking back, you wished you had a camera or shared his talent with a paintbrush–just to have that moment set in stone. The smile that made you say yes. 

In the beginning, he was too shy to hold your hand or stand too close. Inching closer and closer until he stood against you–brushing his fingers against yours until his big hands were enveloping your smaller ones. 

 The first time he kissed you, his hands were shaking.

 He was so nervous you could feel the goosebumps rising on his arms, but he asked so sweetly,

“Can I kiss you.” And there was no way you’d ever say no. Not when he stood there in his summer clothes and pink cheeks, not when it was Hyunjin asking. 

He held you straight against him, both hands on your face—the first press of his lips like drinking water, so slow as not to choke then gulping it down. His skin was soft everywhere you touched, and his kiss was happy: full of teeth and giggles and coming up for air.

Getting to know him was like walking into your childhood home, everything about him as familiar as the lines on your palm. Some parts of you are certain you’ve known him before—maybe you were lovers then too, or maybe two trees whose roots were intertwined. In any reality, you can’t see how Hyunjin is supposed to be with you. There is just no other reason why he could know you so well already, no other explanation as to why his body fits around you like it was made to.

Late one night you tell him your theories, and the smile he gave you was so bright and shiny you thought the sun came up. You tell him calmly and earnestly,

 “Hyun, I’m almost certain we’ve already met thousands of times before.” 

August is hot and covered in orange sunsets and long kisses; pink skies the same color as his cheeks when he asks you out again and again. He tells you about his life while you flip through his journals, page after page dedicated to moments he loved and dreams he’s had, and moments yet to come.

The days are long and it’s so easy to care for him, 15 hours of sunlight allowing you to learn all of him and still need more. Sharing secrets under leaves and laughs under covers–it’s too quick to fall in love, too fast for this insatiable longing to rise up in you. But you think you are, you must be, what else could that aching pull in your tummy be? 

The first I love you falls from your lips like the leaves around you. A day spent shopping in the Halloween aisles and holding hands to keep warm. He looks so pretty, dark hair standing out against the grays and oranges of the season, and you love him so much you can’t help but tell him. The words float easy, accompanied by wind bitten skin and a warm gaze.

At first, he hesitates, making sure he’s heard you right, until finally the sun breaks on his face and he speaks.

“I love you too, silly.” He says it like it’s obvious, and it is. He’s been telling you with his eyes and his hands for months, it’s the truest he’s ever felt.

Autumn is spent studying each other, learning how and when to touch—how to make him gasp and sigh. His eyes flutter when you kiss his hip and roll when you bite down; He scratches and pulls, he makes your teeth rattle with his skin. Late nights and early mornings mapping each other, he tells you he loves you and swallows the response, touches the words away.

“I love you; I love you; I love you.” You say over and over again, hoping it sinks into his soul like a second skin.

In mere months, he knows your heart like it’s his own, slotting himself into your life like he’s always been a part of it. Your body has become his home; he’s tied his heart to yours in a double knot. You’re made for him, he’s sure of it—molded from the same clay, split-a parts who’ve found each other.

He tells you things he’s never told anyone before, pressing the secrets against your lips and pulling all of your secrets out of you at the same time. 

He adores you, cherishes you as a person, a friend, a lover. He feels happier than he ever has, and he wants to show you to everyone he knows. When he introduces you to his friends, the smile never leaves his face and his hand stays wound with yours. They welcome you like an old friend, and he feels like both pieces of his heart are melting together. He watches you joke with Felix and be teased by Minho, and he thinks you’re the piece that’s been missing this whole time.

Months have been spent just the two of you, and it’s been perfect–intimate and so warm, but seeing you among his friends changes things. Almost like it wasn’t yet real, and now it is. 

When you go to bed that night, he tells you,

“They love you and I love you.”  and the look you give him is so beautiful, he thinks he should bottle it and save it for later.  

Winter brings an unwelcome guest, a yearning for him that won’t go away—it’s harder to love him when he’s busy, and you wish you could be stronger and less jealous, but you’re only one person. It gets considerably difficult to wash the harsh feelings away when he isn’t there to help you, too many nights spent feeling too far away from him induce an anger you can’t get rid of.

When he arrives late and smelling of alcohol, you can’t seem to swallow the bitterness—why would he be drinking when he could be here with you? 

Hyunjin, never a novice in reading you, picks it up right away. 

One quick comment and then yelling. 

“Are you just tired of me?” It escapes from your tongue like a lash, pricking invisible scars onto every vein. He wishes you would know he misses you too, but how could you when he’s never around, not physically nor emotionally, so you keep screaming. Yelling so loud about things that don’t matter. You hope he knows you’re fighting to stay, not to leave, but the words leaving your mouths are so harsh, you can’t be certain if he remembers he loves you.

If you were in your right mind, you’d know he doesn’t want it this way. Everyday he longs for the heat of summer and the comfort of autumn. If he wasn’t drunk, he could tell you, but instead he says, “I just can’t do this anymore.” Maybe it’s better to let go and find each other next time, next life.

 Recently it’s been too hard, and maybe he’s not strong enough to learn about this part of you, but you are.

You’ve never been afraid to learn his bad parts, sure he’s a dream shaped like a boy, but he’s also whiny and clingy, and sometimes he gives up too fast. Even though it’s hard, and the tears are streaming into the seam of your lips—you gulp down the acidity and tell him you love him.

“It’s never going to get easier, Hyun, you’ll always be busy, and I’ll probably always miss you, but I love you and you said we’re meant to be, and you’re not a liar.” You tell him you’re sorry for yelling, and he says he’s sorry too, and in the morning, he’ll use his hands to apologize and then his mouth and he’ll promise to keep you warm when he can.

Winter is spent learning to love the pieces of each other that are unlikable, to see the invisible boundaries of before and honor them. You remember your theory about the trees with woven roots, and you remind yourself sometimes you’ll have to sacrifice your share of the water to survive, and you hope it’ll be easier when the world reawakens.

Night comes so fast, and it's so cold, but he loves you. It’s been half a year now, and you almost can’t remember where you were this time last year. Were you freezing without him? Or did you only feel the cold now that he’s here? 

All you know is his warmth–pressing into you wherever he can. 

A silent promise for the spring yet to come. 

His birthday arrives with the first of the blooms, the world not yet alive. You wish him happy birthday under warm sheets, whimpering the words in place of presents. He spends the day with the people he loves most and the happiness he feels eases into spring. He tells you it used to be his favorite; and you promise for his day you will bring some of the magic back.

 You help him pick flowers to paint, and read him your favorite stories, you kiss him under cherry blossoms and show him your favorite sunsets. It helps some, but not all—even so, spring with you is prettier than without. He’s sure his skin is brighter because you kiss it, and his paintings are better because they’re of you. He doesn’t know if you believe him, but he means it. His world has become technicolor since you walked into it.

He says it’s just better with you, “I mean it, honey, life is unbelievable when you’re around.”

It’s almost been a year, months spent learning and growing just like the flowers scattered around you. He loves you, so it takes no hesitation when you ask him to move in. He feels like it was already in the midst of happening anyway—his one drawer became a dresser, and his favorite snacks found their way to your cabinets.

Months ago, your heart became his home, and now he gets to live in it every day. Sure, you bicker some: many sighs of “That’s not where that goes, Hyun.” Combined with sweet mutters of “Well, it should go there, sweetheart.” But it’s exhilarating to open his boxes and link his life with yours—mitch-matched mugs in the sink and dirty clothes mixed together.

Your home is filled with dancing and music, laughter and love. His paintings cover the walls, pictures of your days held with magnets on the fridge. His life is now yours and your days belong to each other, and every night he reminds you it’s almost been a year, but how could you forget.

Sometimes, when he puts a dish away wrong, or leaves his clothes on the floor, you question why you invited him in. Even so, you wouldn’t take it back. He’s added so much color into your life, spring personified. A lovely romantic boy who sets your soul on fire. 

The flowers that line the street remind you of him, and the bees who accompany you on your walk sing a quiet song that resembles his sweet nothings.

 Your sweet spring boy, Hyunjin.

 Radiant in every season. 

Somehow, he looks the prettiest in the July heat. Of course, every season you’ve spent with him he’s been beautiful, but there is something about his smile surrounded by clear skies. His cheeks are the same color as the flowers and his kisses as warm as the sun. Something about the season where you first met, encasing him in a beauty befit of a prince. You can’t believe it’s been a year with him, a year getting to know how to love him and feeling his love back.

Looking at him now, he could probably make you do anything which is why when he woke you up at the crack of dawn dragging you out to see the sunrise you couldn’t say no. It was frustrating at first, when all you wanted was a few more hours in bed next to him, but Hyunjin could make you do anything if he smiled down at you.

He’s doing it now, looking so darling in his light sweater and clips in his bed-messed hair, looking past you at the sunrise. You love him like this, and it takes all of you not to tell him, to keep the peace of dawn. 

You’ve loved things before—people, places, things, but never a boy like this.

Hwang Hyunjin is so precious, so dear to you that it hurts sometimes. No one has ever loved you the way he does, his love surrounds you—covers you under a warm blanket of his affection until it radiates into you.

He’s telling you how pretty you are, how you look like the fresh blooms and you’re laughing—which is all he wanted. He only ever wants to make you happy, even if that means being a cheeseball sometimes. Especially if that means waking you up early enough to see the sun come up, and he wants to see that smile again, so he asks,

 “Honey, do you wanna know a secret?”

“Oooo, yes tell me.”

“I love you.” It comes so easy, flows so quickly past his lips like a nightly prayer, like it’s something so objectively true he can’t lie about it, which it is. And your smiles is so wide, laughing at how sweet your boy is, and you say,

“Oh, I already Knew that. I love you too.” And he smiles, grinning at the summer sky.

© LUVTAK

[24kmar]

𝖫𝗎𝗄𝖾 𝖢𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗇 + 𝖣𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝖣𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗒𝗌𝗎𝗌

"My boyfriend's back. And he's cooler than ever There's no more night, blue skies forever. I told you twice in our love letter. There's no stopping now, green lights forever."

[k0yaz]

Hihihihi pookie

Could you write a neuvillette x reader where they go stargazing and they do awesome things

Sorry if its vague idk how to request

Anyways have a good day pookie wookie 🙏

diluvies.

Pairings: neuvillette x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, can be read as platonic or romantic, written before I did neuvi’s story quest I’m way to lazy to do story quests in genshin rn, so neuvi might be ooc uhm, there is literally no warnings tf, fake constellation it’s not real idk man, HANDHOLDING OMG WHAT SHALL WE DO, not proofread.

A/N: omg hi my pookie wookie chocolate chip cake recipe btw yes you suck bootycheeks at requesting (jk ily)

Brisk sweeps of wind danced along your skin, hair flowing in a consistent direction along with the wind as strands of your hair brushed along your face slightly. The moonlit sky cast a soft glow onto both yours and Neuvillette’s face, illuminating the Iudex’s features almost perfectly. A sense of comfort washed over you as you heard nothing but the bellows of the wind, along with the soothing rush of water off in the distance.

When it came to Neuvillette, you had never thought that you’d end up enjoying his company as much as you do now. Back then, he seemed like the typical serious and dull type of person who you’d typically find working in the court. Slowly but surely, it didn’t take long for you to see the chief justice for who he really was. Honest, patient, and respectable—yet also capable of compassion towards his nation.

Gradually, you spent more and more time with him, leading you to unexpectedly enjoy spending time with the chief justice. He would stand at the edge of the stone railing circling the land portion of Fontaine, separating it from the streaming bodies of clear blue water surrounding various pieces of land across the nation. With a gentle smile overlaying his face, Neuvillette would reach out his gloved hand in a drawn in motion, beckoning you to come stand beside him.

Often times, you two wouldn’t talk much. In fact, it would only be a mellow silence hanging in the air which you both found an odd comfort in. Neuvillette would often find a sense of solace in your presence, his judgement no longer clouded nor unclear whenever he was around you.

Bright gleams of the infinite glowing masses scattered across the sky, decorating the blackened night skies with the endless array of stars seemingly going on forever. Glancing over, you heaved a small amused sigh as you noticed Neuvillette’s eyes tracing the stars so intently, as if he was completely lost in their beauty. White hair brushing along his face, Neuvillette leaned back with one arm resting on his knee and seated on the grass, laying on his back comfortably in.

Looking at him, you noticed his eyes seemingly focus on a particular pattern of stars, almost like he was infatuated with it. You switched your attention to Neuvillette, cocking an eyebrow out of curiosity upon seeing his newfound interest in the distinct shape of the stars.

“Something catch your eye, Neuvi?” You inquired, laying on your back as well and rolling closer to him. He let out an affirmative hum as your shoulder bumped his, hand reaching up to trace the shape of the stars again. He blinked for a moment, taking in a slow breath before speaking, as if he was trying to ground himself back to reality. Exhaling, Neuvillette finally spoke up.

“Just the arrangement of the stars is all. For some reason, it strikingly resembles something familiar.”

“A constellation maybe?”

Neuvillette gives an affirmative nod, his slit violet eyes having a soft glow in them from the bright stars.

“Diluvies.” He responded, a hand planted behind him against the flattened blades of grass. You followed the shape of the constellation, noticing the striking resembling to the position of a dragon craning its neck. “Does the constellation mean something to you?” You added, taking note of the way his eyes fluttered shut.

The upper half of Neuvillette’s face harbored a pale glow from the moonlight, especially making the blue accents of his eyeliner stand out from the corner of his eyes. The aching quiet atmosphere stretched along as his eyelids remained shut, pondering a viable response. In the end, Neuvillette simply shook his head, seemingly not being able to find a particular thing he was reminded of.

Reaching over, you took his hand in yours, lacing your fingers between his tenderly. The sweet gesture caused Neuvillette’s features to soften, his features resting upon feeling your hand brush up against his gloved hand. Neuvillette couldn’t help but let out a hushed sigh, leaning his head atop yours as he grasped your hand. You placed your freehand on the back of his head, threading your fingers through his smooth, pale hair.

Your hand brushed along the ocean streaks slightly distanced from the rest of his white hair, resembling his horns as the hydro dragon sovereign. The contact with his horns only earned another quiet hum vibrating from Neuvillette’s throat, his eyes heavy lidded, yet slightly opened now.

“Perhaps, the constellation does remind me of something.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“It’s connected trail representing a dragon craning its neck…makes the being seem as if it’s sheltering something.”

Neuvillette paused, his own hand playing with your hair subconsciously as his head remained tilted atop yours.

“It reminds me of myself. My own want to shelter and protect you, (Name).”

A/N: MY BRAIN IS SO COOKED HELP IM SORRY IF ITS BAD AND TOO SHORT IM SCREAMING ITS 12 AM also yes I named the fic after his story quest aren’t I so smart

[desi2go]

Under the wide sky

pairing: Jisung x reader

warnings: fluff

author's note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY JISUNG! I hope you will have a great day filled with joy <3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Imagine coming home after work and opening the front door of your shaired apartment with Jisung, your husband of one year. The house was dark and curious, where your husband is at the moment, you search the house. Finding a letter, taped onto the mirror in your bedroom, your name with his smooth handwriting on it. Gently, you placed your work bag beside the bed, opening the small letter.

Just like the romantic he were, it was a love letter, full of adoration and compliments. A poem meant for you and only for you.

Beneath the stars, where quiet whispers hum, A table waits, just for us to come. Candlelight flickers, soft and warm, Our rooftop haven, where love takes form.

The world below may rush and spin, But here, it's just us, let the night begin. I've set the scene, a perfect view, But all that's missing, my love, is you.

The city lights, like fireflies, glow, As the evening breeze begins to flow. So take my hand, come with me, To a dinner beneath the endless sea.

We'll share a meal, but more than that, We'll share our hearts, where love is at. Join me tonight, under the sky so wide, In our rooftop haven, where love can’t hide.

Just you and me, in the quiet of night, Together, forever, in the soft moonlight. So what do you say, my dearest, my life? Will you join me for dinner, my beautiful wife?

You chuckled at the poem and wondered how much time it has consumed to write such a masterpiece but your Jisung was a song writer after all and you preened with happiness to get such a wonderful letter. With a smile you hopped quickly into the shower, washing the dirt of the day off and then running back to your bedroom since you don't want Ji to wait too long. Who knows how long he is already up there?

You were just starting to rummage through your closet for something decent to wear when you noticed the beautiful black dress laid out on the bed with another small letter.

On our bed, a dress of midnight hue, Laid gently for my love, so true. A whisper of elegance, soft and fine, For tonight, my darling, you’ll truly shine.

Under the stars, where dreams take flight, We’ll dine together in the soft moonlight. A table set with love and care, Waiting for the moment we’ll share.

Slip into that dress, so sleek and bold, Let the night wrap you in its fold. For tonight, it’s just us two, In our rooftop world, beneath skies so blue.

So come, my love, when you’re ready, With steps so light, so sure, so steady. I’ll be waiting where the stars align, For a perfect evening, knowing you're mine.

Yours always, Jisung

You cooed at how cute that was. You knew that your husband loved to be romantic but this was too much for your heart to bear. you will surely die at how romantic he was. Gently, you slipped into the dress, observing your form in the mirror. It was gorgeous and absolutely breathtaking. You wondered where Jisung bought it because it was a masterpiece. It fit you perfectly, complementing every single curve of your body and then, down the waist, the skirt widely hugged your legs. And just then you noticed that it sparkled in the low bedroom light with every turn you did.

It was off the shoulder and showed off your cleavage with an amazing grace. Your back was exposed, just like Jisung loved it. It was like it rose up from a fairy tale, made by the fairy godmother herself.

Quickly, you brushed your hair and let it fall down your back in soft waves. In several minutes, you had covered your tired eyes with concealer and some mascara. Then, you stepped up the stairs to get to the rooftop. It was the main reason why you had bought this house after all. Both of you loved the stars and often observed the dark night sky whenever your schedules allowed.

The small door to your rooftop was already open, soft dimmed light of fairylights led your way. He must have hung them up alone and you could scold your husband for doing such things alone where he could fall of the ladder without anyone noticing. But you loved the gesture.

The cool night air was filled with the rhythm of slow music, something you never heard before and you could bet it was composed by Ji himself. When the lyrics danced through the dark, you knew you were right, it was indeed his angelic voice, low and soft, voicing sweet nothings.

"Hello my love" he greeted you and you finally stood eye to eye with your love of your life. His dark hair was perfectly styled and you absolutely adored the way his black suit hugged his body, a dark blue tie around his neck.

A huge boquet of flowers were in his hands, a variation, but mostly peonies, your favourite flower. "Hello, baby" you answered, a bright smile on your lips and you closed the distance between you. You pressed a soft kiss on his lips as he placed the boquet in your hands.

"You look beautiful. Not even the stars shine so bright" he flirted and you couldn't hold your laugh in. How much you loved his romantic demeanor. "You are a charmer, Han Jisung"

"I'm not a charmer. I'm just so in love with my wife" he whispered, pressing another kiss on your plush lips.

"I love you too" you grinned and took his hand in yours. "Come, dinner's ready" he lead you to the table, a white tablecloth spread out on it. You placed the flowers in the pot on the middle of the table. Jisung pulled the chair back and you sat down before he softly pushed it to the table. Then, he jogged around it to get to his own place.

The food was already in front of you, a plate full of spaghetti. It might be funny but it was your favourite meal even if it is simple. The smell let your mouth water.

"I made it myself" he told you proudly and you couldn't stop looking at him in awe. Usually, you were the one to cook due to his busy schedule and he most likely sets the kitchen on fire. Luckily, your house wasn't burning so you assumed that everything went fine. You hummed in delight when you munched on the food, talking about this and that with him.

After eating, you watched the stars, listening to his music until the next song came up, one that you knew all too well.

"Our wedding song! Come, baby, we need to dance!" You exclaimed excited and shot up from your place, dragging Ji with you. He laughed, following you either way. You gently placed a hand on his shoulder, the other one stayed in his hand. Slowly, his other sneaked around your waist, pressing you against his warm chest.

All you could do was staring up with sparkling eyes at the man who treated you like a treasure, not his princess but his queen. And you loved him so much. He was the one with whom you want to spend the eternity with. He catched the stars from the dark, wide night sky and gifted them to you like it was nothing.

[yeoja-dream]

Found/Fated/Forever

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: BTS OT7 x Reader Genre: Fantasy, eventual smut, porn with plot, slow burn, hurt/comfort Characters: Supernatural!BTS, Vampire!Jungkook, Supernatural!Reader Content Warning: Y/N in danger Word Count: 3.6k

Jungkook’s vision went white and he felt the air pulled out of his lungs as in a flash, he was again in the hospital room, Namjoon hovered worryingly over your body. He looked up as you arrived, obvious relief relaxing his features as his eyes landed on Baba Yena. 

“Baba Yena,” Namjoon greeted with a bow. “I was only able to do a cursory search, but her kind isn’t listed or documented in any infernal records I was able to get my hands on.” 

“Of course, because she is not from the hells, my child.” Baba Yena said, walking to your bedside, and shooing him away. “She is indeed a rare sight to behold, but you will have to ask her about her heritage, she has taken considerable lengths to conceal it.” 

“So you will save her?” Namjoon asked, hopeful. 

“Yes, horned one. Your mate has sacrificed sufficiently, and this child has suffered greatly as it is. It is not yet her time to die.” Baba Yena said, beginning to pull several black, oily drawing implements as well as a bottle of bright blue, glowing liquid. 

Without much regard for the others standing in the room, Baba Yena began unceremoniously undressing your body, causing both the men in the room to turn their gaze elsewhere. Perhaps in a different time or context, it would be embarrassing, exciting perhaps, but they felt it perverse to see you unclothed in such a state. Fully nude, Baba Yena began using the black, oily, drawing implements to draw intricate symbols all over your body. 

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, back still turned. 

“Her body is too weak to house her soul, so it is lost somewhere in the Astral Sea. The water from the Elu Spring in the Fey Wild will heal and strengthen her body. The markings are the spell that will call her soul back to her body.” 

With that, Baba Yena sat you up, popping the cork of the blue liquid, and carefully poured it down your throat. Immediately, your almost grey skin flushes with color, and your rapid, shallow breaths begin to even out. Namjoon watched the monitor carefully, breathing a sigh of relief as your heart rate became stronger and faster too. Baba Yena then closed her eyes, extending her arms out straight, palms down. Her palms began to glow with a bright, white light, and as they glowed, so did the markings on your body. Baba Yena’s face scrunched with concentration. “Come on, child. It is not yet time to go.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You came to, opening your eyes, rubbing them harshly as to clear your blurred vision. You feel yourself to be weightless, immediately, as if floating on water. All around you, horizon to horizon, were breathtakingly vibrant and clear night skies, completely lit up with stars and nebula as far as the eye could see. Below, was a massive and never-ending sea of the purest, molten silver, opaque and mirror-like, the gentle waves that broke the surface capturing the starlight with such luster you wondered for a moment if the water had been made of the cosmos, perhaps from the tears of the other stars, crying for the fallen. 

It didn’t exactly take a scholar to figure out you had found yourself in the Astral Plane, the plane souls found themselves in before continuing onto an afterlife fitting of whomever they worshiped in life. Legend has it that the Astral Sea is what waters the Tree of Life, and drinking from its waters will grant you all knowledge and power akin to a God in your own right. Others said those with enough hubris or guts to try are simply driven stark raving mad, cursed to roam the endless abyss with nothing but the voices in their head to keep them company. Considering that you had yet to hear of a God exalted by this water, you were more inclined to believe the latter. 

How the fuck did I get to the astral realm?  You asked yourself, anxiety and panic prickling at your skin. You combed through your memories, you woke up, got dressed, had breakfast, and… you hit a wall. You try to push forward, but the more you do so, the more your brain shoots with pain. Something or someone was blocking you from remembering something important, and you judged. Whether or not that was simply a symptom of the situation you found yourself in or a direct action taken by someone, you had yet to discern. 

There was at least one thing you knew about the Astral Plane, that in order to travel it, you only had to think, to will yourself in one direction or the other. You started by willing yourself into the vertical, upright position with the sea 10 meters below. What you did not know, however, was how magic functioned in this plane. The first obvious solution was to attempt to plane shift back to your reality, but when you mentally cast your consciousness out looking for laylines to dip into, you couldn’t find any. You willed yourself forward then, continuing the mental search. 

Time in the Astral worked differently than in the prime material plane. There was no day or night, time simply did not pass, so it was impossible to gauge how long you truly spent looking, but you only stopped when your head throbbed from the exertion. Could it be possible that the Astral had no laylines? Or perhaps your magic had been cut off somehow, rendering you blind to any laylines that might exist? If that was the case, had you actually died? The thought raised your blood pressure. 

Without the ability to dip into the magic, you were certainly not plane-shifting out of this shitty situation. You patted yourself down and only now realized that you were entirely without your personal effects, now wearing a rough spin, off-white tunic, brown pants of the same fabric, and a pair of worn leather boots. More importantly, without your stuff, you had returned to your true form. The realization was not helping the actually dead theory. You willed yourself forward, hoping to run into another soul, maybe someone who could help you figure this situation out. 

You floated for what felt like years, decades. You didn’t need to eat or sleep, and with no time reference, the monotony alone would drive anyone mad, you didn’t even need to drink the seawater, you decided. Sometimes you saw people, mostly in the distance, however, and when you’d try to call their attention, they would flee like their lives depended on it. Other times the Sea itself would open up, portals of different shades of light would flash, dropping off newly departed souls, or more often, yanking an older soul into one afterlife or another. No one spoke to one another, and certainly no one spoke to you. That is, until mercifully, you hear your voice called by a friendly male voice behind you. 

“Y/N?” The voice called out. The tone was friendly and definitively male, but there was a quality about the timbre that called out to something deeper and forgotten inside of you. You turned around hesitantly, seeing a tall, human man in his 20s. His hair was curly, his features dark and his skin a tanned olive. There was a familiarity to his look, and as he approached closer, it finally clicked. 

“Fareed?!” You asked with a mixture of shock and surprise. 

“Long time no see!” He said with a friendly wave. 

When you had first escaped from the Fey Wild, Fareed was your first friend as a young child. Fareed was a bubbly but fearless kid whose hobbies appropriately included talking to strangers and jumping off the highest places he could find. He often slipped extra portions of his lunch out of the house, but you always suspected his mom knew and was giving him too much food deliberately. His fearlessness got him taken away far too young, and when our country began conscripting soldiers for some war in some faraway land, he was the first to volunteer. We received news of his passing only one month later. 

To see him in his current state, alive, well, and sane choked you up and you found yourself fighting back tears. 

“It’s Y/N! I must look considerably different now than when you last saw me.” You said gesturing to your true self. “Why are you still here?” You asked. Fareed had died at least 200 years ago, and you had always hoped that he was living it up in some cushy afterlife. 

“I could recognize your energy from across all the planes.” He said with a light laugh. “The Astral has guardians and protectors like any other plane,” He explained. “I dedicated my afterlife to guiding and protecting the lost souls that wander here, and when it is time for them to pass on, I help them find that passage.”

“That sounds like an incredibly noble cause and absolutely something you would do,” You said with a laugh. 

“Speaking of which,” He began, “I have gotten a sudden influx of souls complaining about a weird, noisy soul wandering around, harassing folks. Which, in turn, leads me to you. What are you doing here, you don’t seem dead?” He asked. 

“About that,” you sighed “I woke up here and I can’t remember how or why I got here, and I would have simply teleported back but I can’t seem to use my magic.” 

“That is strange, considering that the Astral Plane is incredibly magically potent, equally if not more so than the Fey Wild.” He stated. “Come here and let me touch your forehead, let me see if I can’t get this sorted for you.” 

You willed yourself closer to him, and in response, he stuck his hand out, fingers tented, and placed them on your forehead. You feel nothing, but you watch Fareed’s eyes dart around rapidly, making negative vocalizations. After a moment, he drops his hand and focuses his vision back on you. 

“Life certainly hasn’t been very kind to you, Y/N, and for that, I want to express my condolences.” 

“Fareed the years have made you so well-spoken!” You exclaim with a laugh. “Thank you.” You said, more seriously. 

“You have a powerful curse on you, but I think you already knew that. It is strange but refreshing to see your true form.” He stated. You nodded in confirmation as he continued, “You are not dead. You almost died. That is how you ended up here. Someone extremely powerful wanted you to forget what happened to you, so they blocked your memory and your magic. Fortunately, I am also someone extremely powerful and I was able to remove the block, but not the curse on you as a whole. That is a complicated and difficult endeavor not even I can do.” 

With that information, you think back again, this time with crystal clear acuity. You remember the club, rescuing the woman, meeting Jungkook, his preposition. You remember being in his embrace, heat and lust and euphoria taking over every one of your senses, you remember begging him not to stop despite fading away slowly, and then darkness. 

“I think I have a soulmate, Fareed.” You breathed. 

“I am inclined to agree. All things do.” 

“He has mates already though, 6 of them!” You exclaimed. 

“Then you also have 6 additional mates,” Fareed said matter of factly. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t even know those people.” 

Fareed cocked an eyebrow at you. “Y/N, do you know how soulmates work?” 

“Love and magic and shit, no?” You asked with a shrug. 

“Not quite,” Fareed explained. “Souls as most people like to refer to them are actually called Fragments. They are the broken-up pieces of Soulias. When the gods created all sentient living things, they made a center of power, into which they put all knowledge, power, emotion, experience, and condition, and they named that power center Soulia. The problem occurred when the gods tried to plant these Soulias into vessels, the power would overwhelm the vessel and tear it apart, and the ones strong enough to withstand were monstrous creatures of pain, chaos, and violence. The Gods decided to fracture the Soulias. The larger Fragments would go into the vessels they were creating, and the smaller Shards, remnants of the fracturing process, would go into all other living creatures. Fracturing also ensured that no two vessels would live an identical life and that only true harmony could be attained when you shared your piece, your life, your soul, with others around you. It was usually convenient to break the Soulia into two, so often you will see soul mates in pairs of two. But for larger Soulias, smaller Fragments are needed, so it is broken up into smaller pieces, so soulmate groups of more than two are certainly possible. The Soulia inside the vessel will spend its whole life pining after its other pieces. Many people never find their true other half, but a good deal will find love nonetheless and find satisfaction in that. Many here found their Shards in life inside beloved plants and animals.” 

“I never knew all that,” You stared at him mouth agape. “So my soul, fragment, fits in with all of theirs?” You ask, gripping at your chest. 

“Precisely.”

“What happens when all the parts of a Soulia are bought together?” You asked. 

“Well, as I said before, the fracturing process is extremely imperfect, and in the creation of Fragments, a great number of shards are also produced, so getting every part of a Soulia back together is practically impossible. You can, however, tie the pieces together somewhat, bonding or mating as you likely know it, which affords all persons a metaphysical line to one another. Through that line, you can pick up on how your partner is feeling, you can send short messages or emotional sentiments. If they allow you in, you can enter their mind, they can share memories with you as they saw them, and they can allow you to feel exactly how they feel, understand how they actually think. It is a powerful connection, and allows for deeper intimacy and connection possible by other non-soulmate or non-bonded pairs.”

“That sounds… intrusive.” You mumble, arms crossed. 

“It can be, but everything is done with the consent of both parties. You can ignore the call of your mate down the bond, even after you’ve let them in you can push them out of your mind at any time, and you can block anyone from entering. Just takes a little practice.” 

You frown at that, “It sounds like you are selling it to me.” 

“I guess you could say that I am. You seem upset, why? Most people are delighted to meet a soulmate.” 

“I’m mad that my soulmate almost killed me, I’m mad that I have a soulmate, I’m mad that I have 7 soul mates. I’m mad that I’ve lived the last 50 years of my life in relative solitude because I was sick and tired of getting fucked over and suddenly 7 of potentially the deepest and most intimate connections a living thing can experience is dropped onto my lap so yeah, color me upset! I can’t do loss anymore, Fareed. It’s too painful.” 

He looked you up and down, contemplatively. “If I may, one old friend to another?” 

You nod in response. 

“Look around and tell me what you see.” He said, making a wide sweeping gesture. 

“I see endless and endless nothing dotted with lonely, lost souls, hoping that someday they’ll be called to something better.” 

“Time may not pass in the Astral, but what I quickly learned is that this is the summation of a human life, Y/N. They live, and most days are bleak, boring, and mundane. Occasionally, another lonely soul will cross their path, and for a time, they find comfort in one another. Ultimately, they part, and at the end of it all, they pass on hoping that whatever next is someplace better, and yet for many this is what they have to look forward to.” 

“I’m not sure I understand what you are getting at, Fareed.” 

“You have lived a long, brilliant life Y/N, many times longer than many of the souls that wander here. You have suffered more than much more than many of these souls, but you have been gifted the chance to love and be loved much more than many of these souls. So go, Y/N. Set yourself free from grief, worry, and suspicion. Do not shy away from love for fear of pain, love despite it, and love fiercely and unapologetically. When you are called to join us here again, come with joy in your heart from a life fearlessly spent, or be doomed to eternity searching the silver sea for your salvation. You are your own salvation.” 

You pursed your lips tightly, looking down at the Astral Sea as you processed his words. 

“It isn’t that easy,” You began, your voice wavering. 

“For you, it won’t be,” He admitted. “It is true some come into this world full of light and for whom trust and love come easy. But for those who have been hurt as you have, it is going to be hard. Just because things are hard doesn’t mean they aren’t worth doing or that they are bad for us.” 

“You know what I am, what I am made of. You see the ticking bomb I am, and yet you insist I allow people to get close to me to what... hurt as many as I can? I will never be free, Fareed. They will chase me to the ends of time and take from me what they feel they are owed. We both know that.” You finish your rant, a single tear running down your cheek. As you do so, a bright white portal opens on the top of the Astral Sea, slowly dragging you closer and closer to its event horizon. 

“It seems our time together has run out,” Fareed said. “If you would allow me to leave you with a parting thought before you go. The only memories they blocked from you were of him. They wanted you to forget him so desperately they blocked your magic essentially confining you to a realm where they would never be able to touch you again. That is worth considering.” 

As your feet began to hit the portal, Fareed grabbed your hand holding it close. 

“Make the world tremble at you, Y/N. I don’t want to see you here for a long, long time. Good luck-” The end of the word was clipped as your vision went white, your hearing went silent, and like you were being flushed down a toilet, you felt yourself being yanked at lightning speed by your feet, and suddenly everything was again dark. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Baba Yena pulled up her arms suddenly, and in response, your body involuntarily arched. When doing so, you let out a sudden, loud gasp, causing all present to breathe a small sigh of relief to themselves too. 

“The child was very deep, so it took me a while to find her.” Baba Yena said, redressing you in a spare hospital bed and tucking you in gently. “Both of you,” She said, turning to the men who had huddled together for comfort during the spell. “Kneel.” 

They looked at each other, but rather than piss off a supremely powerful being who just did you a massive favor, the pair concede, sinking to the floor on their knees. Once in position, Baba Yena approached the pair. While kneeling, Baba Yena was at eye level with the boys. She approached Jungkook first. 

Thwack!  She cracked him across the skull with a walking cane. “What are you doing bleeding girls dry like you're some poor changling with no control of their thirst? You are over 200 years old, act your age! You had no business testing out a connection you had no idea if you could control without supervision.” Baba Yena scolded him thoroughly. 

“And you,”  Thwack!  This time she cracked Namjoon over the skull with the cane. “What the hell kind of doctor are you? You were in such a rush to do nothing you didn’t stop to see the blinding, gold amulet that she wears? The very same type you and several of your mates wear? If he almost killed her, you were signing the death certificate with your negligence ink. You ought to be ashamed.” She finished, brushing nothing off her petticoat, and gathering her things to leave. 

“She will wake in 3 days fully rested and back to full health. There will come a time when she has questions about herself, and when she does, find me. Until then, leave me alone. You kids have caused me enough trouble as it is. Oh and, be careful with that one. She has been through enough.” And with that, she flourishes the very same cane, vanishing. 

The silence that hangs in the air after Baba Yena leaves is long and heavy, but mixed with relief as the pair approach both sides of your bed, staring at your sleeping form. It was amazing how starkly opposite you looked now to even just an hour before, knocking on death’s door. 

“I think you have a lot of explaining to do, Kook.”

“Later,” The younger one pleaded. “I just want to sit here for a little while.” 

“Later.” Namjoon agreed, excusing himself. Not but 20 minutes later, he found himself back in the room, second chair and laptop in hand. Jungkook was too guilt-ridden to say it, but he was immensely grateful for the company. He hoped you were too. 

_____________________________________________ Tags @luvlykyy ---------------------------------------------------------- Big lore dump this chapter! Some of you may be noticing some inspiration from DnD to lend me some framework for world-building! That is absolutely true, but as I also mentioned I have been using it as a framework, and as such it may or may not veer violently off the Forgotten Realms cannon, so don't get too twisted about "Hey, that's not how that thing works!" It's just a work of fiction I'm writing for funsies at the end of the day so don't take it too seriously. I hope you are all enjoying~