#a slow confession in the upwards sway of his eyes

[cvlutos]

"FOUND"

✦ | Posted: 03.06.2022 | WC: 1.2K | Rating: Mature |

✦ | Rook Hunt X GN!Reader | {Howl's Moving Castle Inspired}

✦ | Characters 18+ | Fluff | Poetic | Confessions | Smut | Loving | Forbidden Relationship | French Lang. | Etc | Proceed with Caution, my love.

✦ | Synopsis: A strange man appeared upon your balcony only uttering that he's found you.

✦ | Notes: To the lovely @pinkskytwst & @v-anrouge |

“You must be quiet.”

A gently frosty wind blows through the trees, gently wrapping around your form and pulling you deeper into the untravelled woods. Your hand tightly and gently entwined with the man before you as he leads you. Easily navigating through the moonlit forests, knowing every turn, dip, and curve. Knowing where every branches laid, where every fallen log rested. And if you asked—he could utter into your ear where every bird built it's nest and where every bunny hid.

You hear the distant call of your name, demanding you return, yet the tugging of your hand and the gently kisses upon your knuckles reminds you why you left to begin with. Dressed still in your pajamas, clinging onto a cloak you randomly grab in a hurry of frantic kisses and giggles as you planned to leave for the night. Even if you'd be in a world of trouble when you returned.

You shouldn't be with him, you shouldn't be following him—holding his hands as he whispers in your ear to be careful, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. Feeling every leaf and twig crunch beneath your steps. You feel a flurry of emotions, a flurry of desires you once thought impossible for you to feel until you met him. Standing up on your balcony, only a darkened outline as he offered a hand. You were afraid, scared of this man—this stranger who only spoke in gently riddles and rhymes—speaking only in a language you couldn't understand. “Je t'ai enfin trouvé.” His voice a gently whisper like the night wind. Soon fear turning into curiosity, who is he?

Why is he here?

He's not familiar, with bright green eyes and blonde hair often pulled into a ponytail as a brown hat sits up on his head with a pristine white feather. Dressed in clothes that you're sure aren't from here, not your little town, he's different.

And you like it.

“Once again you are swept away by your thoughts, my love.” His gloves hand gently caresses your face, his thumb gently brushing over you bottom lip, bring your gaze to him. He has a small smile, eyes staring down at you curiously, his earring peeking through his hair of blonde. “It happens often, I wish to know what captivates your mind so.”

“I was thinking about alot of things—like why you appeared upon my balcony.”

His lips curl and he places a gently kiss to your forehead, “Why does the sun rise in the east and not the west? It is merely destined to be.” He tilts your chin upward, pressing a chaste kiss to the bridge of your nose.

Destiny. Fate. Like forever entwining strings that lures and lures, brings two together with such a unshakable hold that any and all should and shall succumb. And you will. You know you will, nor shall you deny such.

As he leads you to a clearing. One of full moon and full stars, perfectly hidden from world view. The grass ticking the bareness of your ankles and legs, shaking the trees leaves in a gently like melody, that dances around you as your hands hold his shoulders, facing the man before you fully and dancing. He hums into your ear, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. Swaying—dancing with slow tiny steps. “My love…” A mummer, his hands dragging over your waist, thumbs gently pressing into your sides, silently undoing the string of your cloak, his lips gently pressing against yours, grazing with half lidded eyes.

The large piece of fabric flutters to the ground, his hands cupping your face as he gently lowers your body to the ground. “Oh, comme je te désire…” He whispers into your skin, carefully removing his clothing and discarding it ascending, pressing a flurry a tender kisses along you neck and collar, warm hands exploring the expansion of your bare skin.

Listening intently to every breath and sigh, feeling every shuddering of your skin, stuttering breath. Groaning at the merely feeling of your nails dragging along his back, feeling your breath fan against his shoulder and neck, clinging onto him. His hand slipping between your thighs, his lips pressing against yours, his tongue slipping past your lips. His thumb gently swipes at the corner of your lips, collecting any saliva that threatens to slip past.

“J'ai envie de vous tous.”

Words that you don't understand, words that drip of his lips like sweetened honey, that has you losing your very breathe, back arching, and hands blindly—desperately clinging onto the man above you. The wind cool against your naked form, him drawing you closer to the very edge, to th very point in which all lead to this moment. This moment that has you choking, crying out in utter bliss has your juices coat his hands, making a mess upon your skin. That he without hesitation licks up.

Destiny lead you to this moment, to this man above you, face flushed red, green eyes half lidded, and gently sliding between your legs. All written and designed—beyond your control and yes, you should feel like that of a puppet, with no control. But—

“Je vous aime.”

Feeling him fill you, face burden within your neck, breathless, as he holds you. Who are you to deny such a gift fate has given you, that fate has lead to your balcony, that has lead him between your thighs, to gently love your body more than anything else? What are such odds? Such a chance beneath thousands of stars and a moon that looks aside shyly. Nails digging into flesh, hips melting and molding together. Pieces that fit so perfectly. You feel him shudder against your, desperately holding onto you.

“My love—my love—my love…” He repeats, chanting it like a prayer, afraid that it'll go unheard. Emerald green dazed eyes staring at you in pure, utter love.

Love.

Which is your very winding and very undoing, your arms desperately wrapping around his neck, pressing your forehead against his. Eyes struggling to remain open as pleasure ran along you spine, every fiber of your being. You love him, your voice feels hoarse as whines, whimpers, cries lips past shamelessly, each sound he adores.

Adoration.

He lets out a hot high-pitch gasp the molds into a whine, his thrust slowly turning sloppy and uncoordinated, juices mixing and splattering across his thighs and your skin. His hands entwining with yours longingly. Your body rocks with his, feeling him push his cum deeper, clenching his teeth, forehead pushing against yours, eyes watching the sloppy mess, as your legs rest on his hips. “Rook—” You mummer his eyes name, his hips snapping against yours, forcing a moan from your lips, your body tensing and back arching, shots of pleasure taking over you and for a moment blindly. You watch his eyes widen, letting out a hot exhale.

“Mon nom... Vous vous êtes souvenu de mon nom…” His hands move to gently cup your face, thumbs swiping gently over your cheeks. “My name…. I thought you had forgotten…” There's sudden fondness that seems more apparent before, more than little glimpses that disappears just as fast as you saw it. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips, his hair ticking your face gently.

“… Forgotten…?”

“Je t'ai enfin trouvé.. It means I've found you. Finally found you.”

ⓒ 2023 cvlutos — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

[vinciwolf]

Loyalty Pt 6

(Recom)Na’vi!Miles Quaritch x (fem)Na’vi!Reader

Warnings: SLOW BURN, THIS IS AN EVENTUAL NSFT SERIES, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, capture, romance, reader is female

Warnings for this chapter: SMUT, piv, rough sex, nipple play, fingering, lovemaking, fluff, size difference, nudity, dirty confessions, biting, mating.

Notes: Na’vi spoken is in [italics and brackets]; inner thoughts are in italics.

Tags: @deliwrites @ikranwings @luciddasher @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @avatar-lover @justasimps-blog @mechformers @perseny @dakotali @ragingloser @worldofmunson @whxre-bxby @miscellaneousfantasies​

Miles lips were soft. Every nerve in your body tingled as you dwelled in this fleeting connection before pulling away with a startled inhale, feeling a little worried that this wasn’t the right time, but the Recom’s eyes blazed with a deep need uncaring about tomorrow, tugging you back into another embrace. Losing you would be worse and he couldn’t allow another minute to pass without you in his arms, tugging at your clothes like you’d disappear on him again.

Then there was his tongue coaxing you to let him in, thick and warm, wrapping around yours with a hunger that had your throat humming. Everything around you seemed to melt away until you moaned, feeling like you’d tip over, when a hand found your tail and hooked a finger around the root with a light nudge upward, getting your calves to flex. Being here in the moment and allowing yourselves to be free from the rigid fears that held you back for months was exhilarating. You were painfully sensitive and emotional to the wandering hands hugging you making touch feel like it would set you up to explode.

Needing a break, you peeled yourself away from Miles after a small push that had him releasing you with a smack. He licked your saliva off his mouth, a fang popping out from hiding with pupils dark and blown out wide while he marked the next spot he wanted to devour.

Bastard.

You wanted everything from him, RDA be damned.

Letting your body move unjudged by your own desires, the pad of your tongue swiftly trailed up the muscular indentation of the Recom’s strong neck before engulfing the space under his jaw. The taste was salty, and from the audible growl you received, had your nether lips spilling, desperate for something to touch your excited clit.

Letting go of the Colonel’s neck, you huffed gathering yourself, nose barely parting from the face inches from yours, wanting nothing more than to make love right here, but you’d be pissed to no end if you got sand in your pussy. Glancing to the wood line, you smirked, then slowly parted from the Recom, body swaying cat-like with every deliberate step backwards as your hands slide down his arms until just your fingers kept you connected. Then you were dashing away.

The forest was teeming with life and energy, the grass beneath your quick feet pulsing with light, making you smile from the beauty around you. It didn’t take much to shove off your pants and toss them aside to leave an obvious trail for Miles to follow, letting down your hair as it bounced to the timing of your jog. All but a tank top and your panties covered your body, the warm air greeting your nerves sending a thrill through your body.

The trees and plants radiated their soft glow as Miles advanced through the illuminated environment behind you. Seeing the articles of clothes littering his path, his mouth twisted, feeling his cock hardening, while he unclipped his belt and pulled it through the loops, dropping it. Then he undid his tactical vest and left it somewhere, rolling up his shirt over his head to also toss. Now all he needed was you.

Finding a tiny clearing, you braced yourself against a tree, cheeks heating up when you saw the glowing freckles scattered along the muscular frame of Miles’ body as he approached. Your ribcage expanded rapidly up and down, eyes mesmerized, by the rippling masses of strength in his arms and stomach. You rubbed your thighs together, the ache at your clit almost getting too much.

Then the Recom was marching in a line directly at you. His hands flipped you around and pressed you into the tree, able to feel the swell in his pants at your rear, causing your face to blush deeply. Did you do that to him? The heavy, needy breath at the crook of your shoulder and the shove of your hips to tilt into the bulge had the edge of your lip tugging up as all you could think of was feign oops.

But that soon came to bite you in your ego when the Colonel’s fingers snaked over your stomach, taking his time to feel the scared tautness in your stomach, before going lower until he brushed over your clit. That left you mewling over how hyper aware the little nub made your skin crawl as finally something rubbed the bundle of restlessness between your legs. Fingers edged out every high-pitched noise in you from the precious circles helping your erection peak to a full blossom, only to delve further to dip and play with the globular mess that lined your heat.

“Shit, you’re this wet?” The voice at you side was rough and low, having your fingers scrape the tree’s bark from the intrusive breath flowing past the shell of your ear.

Miles couldn’t get enough of how wet you were, cock uncomfortable in the narrow room his pants afforded, but he mustered every ounce of self-control he had to at least let this be enjoyed slowly. The coil in his groin could hold out a little longer, then he had you turning around, hoisting you into the air and wrapping your legs around his hips.

Kneeling, he put you down on the grass having you flat on your back this time, a hand folding up your shirt to expose your breasts. His eyes feasted at the sight of your nipples, peaked and what looked to be painfully stiff in your arousal by the way you writhed. They were exactly what his mind imagined during those nights he sought relief. Not wasting another passing second, he leaned down to take a mauve pebbled into his mouth, letting the pad of his hot tongue relieve your agony, your hands raking through his short hair as you wailed, back arching. He sucked hard, wanting to leave your breast raw and marked, teeth nibbling and piercing the delicate texture until little red dots could be seem from where he observed his handwork above you.

The air assaulted your wet nipples while they twinged in the aftermath. Coming down from the Recom’s ministration, he helped you shimmy from your tank top and panties, knees shut together a little embarrassed for him to see you. Your human body had been through some shit before and after leaving Earth, like bad hookups and messy sex when you could get nothing else better. But this body was a little different, you hadn’t had the time, or didn’t make the time, for sexual encounters. Sure, you had fingered yourself and masturbated with wooden cocks the Na’vi women showed you how to fashion, but never had you been with someone of this physical endowment before which had your cheeks lower a few shades as you studied the Recom. The valley of his abs rolled down until they disappeared below his beltline to only what you could imagine was something huge based on how high the tent had formed under the buckle.

Miles unbuttoned and zipped down his fly, standing briefly to shove off his pants. While he was discarding them with a thoughtless toss, you trailed over his massive body towering over you from where you laid in the grass.  His cock was upright and ridged with veins, the mushroom head leaking. Your eyes widened slightly, throat bobbing, as you tried to imagine how all that would fit. That was when the Recom noticed your fidgety state. Kneeling down, he cradled you beneath him, hovering over you but softening his movements to show empathy. This was his first time too… in this new body.

“I’d never let anything hurt you, including myself,” he said calmly.

He pecked your lips before his hands guided you onto your stomach, your freshly bruised nipples tickled by the blades of grass greeting your chest. Your heart beat so hard but you were grateful that you faced away from Miles’ eyes, making you more confident and relaxed. Then you felt your waist being lifted and slowly moved into a position where your bottom was in front of his hips, breasts tilting down as your cheeks were spread above.

Miles’ tongue curled forward to moisten his lips as he savored your position underneath his fingers atop the plush roundness of your ass. They were soft and pillowy when he gripped down, your tail responding by curling around his upper arm, breathy coos and whimpers escaping from where your head laid on the ground.

God damn. The way you felt and wiggled under him had his tip flushing painfully tight with every second those cute little noises continued to escape from you reflexively to everything he did, even if it was just barely parting your crack some more to see the glistening juices covering your folds clenching around nothing. Looking at your slit and inner thighs smeared with the heavy flow of your arousal had him feeling a certain way, taking pride that he could do this to someone.

“Did you always get this wet when you thought about me?” he teased, fingers massaging your ass. “Tell me, did you touch yourself to the image of me fucking you like this?”

You didn’t want to answer, but the Recom knew how to get you to talk. Leaning down, he found a breast and pinched your sore nipple between his thumb and index, twirling round and round until your panting sputtered as you let out a faint ‘yes.’

The Colonel tutted and pinched harder saying, “I need to hear exactly how you masturbated.”

Sobbing like a puppy from the discomfort, fingernails scraping the dirt, you finally let it out.

“Yes—yes, I would rub my clit and thrust my fingers in and out of my hole, picturing your cock inside me instead! Touching myself would hurt so much because I knew it wasn’t the same!”

The pressure on your chest disappeared, Miles being satisfied with that answer. For a moment he pictured you in your bed, spread legs and rolling your hips into your fingers, maybe a hand holding the side of your bed from the intensity of it all. How many times did that happen? Was there a night when possibly you and him masturbated at the same time, using your hands to get off while being separated by only a wall.

Fuck. That thought only made him drip more down his cock, and seeing you so wet and needy drove him mad.

Adrenaline spiked through your stomach when you felt the massive length of the Recom’s cock lay itself flush along your crack to then slide down until the head lined up with your slit, causing your whole body to halt with a shiver. Then your breath caught in your throat before merging into an airy song of pleasure when the tip pushed forward. You were lubricated enough, helping the girth ease its way in, but you hadn't expected for it to feel so heavy and big, stretching you to slowly make room.

Miles savored the way your walls accepted him as he glided through your opening, but the shaft only got bigger closer to the base making you whimper while it took you to a new limit. Then his heart couldn’t contain its excitement when he eventually seated himself fully inside. You looked so good with his whole length stuffing your hole that made him want to stay like this forever, but he knew he needed to move now before he got too excited and lost himself.

“Miles…” you sighed pitifully.

“I know.” He understood your pain.

Pulling back his hips, he retreated his length to just the tip then shoved himself back in, thrusting quickly, making your see the Great Mother herself!

“Heh! Heh! Heh!” Your panting was loud and shameless, the skirt of your mouth tugging up in a blissed smile from the driving force pounding your cunt. Miles enjoyed himself too, ramming harder and harder with each new noise chanted from your mouth, encouraging him to keep going faster while falling in love with the way his cock got covered in your slick.

You could feel a coil tightening in your muscles as could you sense an orgasm building within the Recom from the way his thrusts faltered and popped hastily, chasing the high. But there was an onset of distress that started clouding your enjoyment. This was wrong. You wanted to pause, to stop, but not because you didn’t want the sex.

Bringing a hand to the Recom’s massive thigh, you tapped your hand against it.

“Miles—wait—wait,” you breathed.

A wave of shame fell over Miles, immediately pulling himself out and placing you in his lap, a hand holding your face up to examine if anything was wrong. Was this too much? Did he hurt you??? Your palm overlapped his at your cheek, a soft smile edging over your features, then you let go, cupping his face this time with both hands.

"[I want to look into your eyes. I want to see you as you do it]," you pleaded tenderly through labored breaths.

Miles, relieved, understood every word spoken by you in Na’vi that had him gently placing you down onto the forest floor, making sure you were ok as he spread your legs apart, shuffling himself between them and lining up. You didn’t want to be nervous when you gazed into his piercing, honey-comb eyes, and sensing your timidness, the Recom leaned closer and started leaving small kisses under your eyes, beside your mouth, in the crook of your nose, making you to feel loved and comforted like you never felt before.

“Look at me,” he then said, caging you under him, your hands finding placement along his broad back.

You listened and steadied your eyes on him, not letting fear take this moment from you. Then he rocked his hips forward, plunging back into your slick heat and stuffing you full again that had your head crane back into the ground with a soft cry. When you tried to muffle your sounds, Miles swatted your hand away and commanded into your ear with a low growl, “Don’t you dare. I want to hear that pretty voice.”

A deep blush flared over your cheeks from how he could get off to your ugly sobbing, but that concern eventually faded when you couldn’t focus on anything else but the cock curving just right and slapping you into a haze of bliss, letting the worshipping song continue. Fuck it, you were hidden far away where nobody could hear, but part of you wished someone could hear just how good this girth made you crumble, which only drove you louder as the thrusts became deeper. Your nails indenting the muscular cords of the Recom’s back would leave deep, purple marks that had him snarling. He wanted sweet payback so he nudged his face into the bend of your neck and sunk his fangs into your skin. Mine.

Your ankles crossed around Miles’ torso, air humid and dark aside from the glowing plants surrounding this small clearing filled with the sounds of your desperate passion. The sticky sweat on your face had your hair flat to your dewy skin, toes curling from the twine in your core winding up to be set free. The Recom found your lips and swiftly dove his tongue into your mouth, interlocking your moans with his. You sucked the red appendage until it felt like it could burst. Then, breaking off, his nose nuzzled your face, abs flexing hard as he was about to let go. All the atoms in your brain exploded when your orgasm ripped through you, lungs fluttering to a halt. Then there was the warm release of cum splashing forth, mushroomed tip pressing as far back into your cunt as it could get, leaving little room as a few dribbles of the white spilled down your crack.

Panting, your nails released the back they had been bruising, not realizing how tight and white-knuckled your fingers had become, letting Miles sit up as he came down. His abs trailed with sweat, forehead dotted with the same exhaustion that wrecked you, and it was worth it. Mentally, you were giving Ardmore two big, blue fingers to her face. Miles chose you, and you chose him. The RDA could go fuck themselves. Then he was pulling you into his lap, sitting upright, muscular arms encircling you while he gazed with adoration into your eyes. The little hair he had on his head stuck to his forehead, prompting you to use a finger to glide it back into place.

That was when you knew… you loved him and wanted only him in this life.

So you reached a hand back and took your braid, draping it over your shoulder, going slow enough for Miles to catch on and shadow your lead. Allowing the loose tuff of hair to fall away, your tress spread open to reveal the wiggling, pink tendrils of your queues. The Recom’s eyes widened, glanced to you fleetingly, before he took the end of his own braid and exposed the glowing fronds of his own queue. Neither hand withdrew when they slowly moved closer. Then the tendrils grasped and wrapped tightly together.

Miles' pupils blew out wide causing his golden irises to thin while he was rushed with a flood of new sensations. His lungs sucked down air to the fervent stimulation that tangled and danced through his neurons not like anything he felt connecting with a Banshee. At this moment, all he wanted was you. He wanted your lips, your heart, your spirit. Then his eyes rounded when he heard the rhythmic thumps of your heartbeat.

It was beautiful.

He could actually feel you, to everything from the fiber in your muscles, to the blistering desire to kiss him again, he was sharing your body like it was a part of him now.

For you, your breath was taken away as you were filled with the power of such a strong soul. You could feel his sculpted arms, intimidating yet blanketed you with a sense of security. His heart was racing and that made you blush from just how nervous he dared not let show.

Golden eyes met yours as the Recom shared a soft look of love with you. Wanting to be closer, head leaning into your shoulder, his palms were gentle when he hugged you a little tighter, hands shaking from just how overwhelming this was. Your arms wrapped around him as you rested your cheek along his hair.

Then a small bit of adrenaline shot up your stomach as the realization of what you did set in.

Could he feel it too—the bond?

Never did you realize you'd be one day tethered to someone that you had at first been at odds with. Is this how Neytiri felt?

Maybe Miles did feel it, but it was simpler for him.

For you, life was altered, swelling your heart with joy.

You had found your mate.

[linaaaa3]

All Because Of You

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

1987

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: Michael Is at the studio and he can't get you out of his mind, so he calls you up there to give you something to remember.

Tags: love, interconnected, Comfort, Support, happiness, slow burn, fluff, smut.

TW: NSFW, established relationship, 18+, Fingering, orgasm, and more…

Word count: 1k

Aurthor’s note: First time writing a short story on here, be nice!

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

Michael sat in the studio with Quincy, feeling a sense of normalcy wash over him, much like any other day. As he adjusted his headphones, he sensed a familiar comfort in the routine. Quincy gave him the cue to start, and with a gentle nod, Michael began to sing "Liberian Girl." But as he poured his heart into each note, his thoughts drifted to you. Your sweet face, which he cherished deeply, filled his mind, transforming every lyric into a heartfelt tribute to the love he felt for you. Michael felt a deep longing for your presence at that moment, but he was caught up in his work. He was determined to finish the song for his album, knowing how important it was to him. Balancing his emotions with his responsibilities was difficult, and he hoped you could understand the urgency he felt. Quincy glanced over at Michael, a hint of anticipation in his voice. "We’re about to dive into the vocals, Michael. You ready?" He could see Michael lost in thought, a distant look in his eyes.

Michael took a moment to shake off the distraction as he contemplated the long hours they had ahead in the studio. With a deep, steadying breath, he braced himself for the intensity of the work. Yet, even amidst the flurry of musical notes and melodies swirling around him, his mind kept drifting back to thoughts of you. The yearning to see you again cast a shadow over his focus, making the hours seem even longer as he mentally counted down to the moment he would be reunited with you.

Just a few hours into an intense recording session, Michael felt a surge of impatience coursing through him—he had to see you. Without a second thought, he shot you a text, urging you to meet him at the studio because something important was on his mind. “Quincy, I need to take a break,” he announced, his voice tinged with urgency. “It’s been hours of non-stop recording, and I need to rejuvenate.” Quincy, sensing the weight of Michael’s emotions, nodded empathetically. “I understand. Just let me know if you need anything,” he replied before heading out the door, likely to find refuge in the break room. The tension in the air was palpable, and the anticipation of what Michael wanted to share added an electric thrill to the moment!

Michael reclined on the couch, anxiously awaiting your arrival. He found himself missing your presence—the comforting scent that lingered in the air and the graceful way your hips swayed as you walked. Overwhelmed by emotions, he gently closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath, longing for the warmth of your company.

He heard the soft click of the door swinging open, yet kept his eyes shut, assuming it was Quincy entering the room. “Michael,” you whispered gently, your voice a warm caress in the stillness. Instantly, his eyelids fluttered open, revealing a smile that lit up his face. He sat up quickly, drawing you into a tender embrace, the warmth of his body enveloping you like a cozy blanket. As he inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of you filled his senses, and he let out a slow exhale, his breath brushing against your skin and sending delightful shivers cascading down your spine.

“I missed you so much, Princess,” he murmured, his warm breath brushing against your lips. You returned his gentle gaze with a soft smile, lightly caressing his hair. “I missed you too, Michael. I wanted to come sooner, but I didn’t want to impose on you,” you confessed, looking into his deep brown eyes, filled with understanding.

Michael furrowed his brow, his eyebrows arching upward in surprise. “You should have come,” he said, his voice low and gentle, yet laced with concern. “You’re never intruding on anything.” The warmth in his tone contrasted with the seriousness of his expression, inviting reassurance.

Michael gently takes your hand, leading you into a dimly lit, isolated room. As he closes the door behind you, he makes sure to lock it securely, creating a barrier between you and the outside world. He glances around to ensure no one is watching before turning off his microphone, signaling that this moment is private. With a sense of urgency, he pulls you into a corner of the room, tucking you both away from the view of the large window. The air feels charged as he leans in closer, creating a sense of intimacy in this hidden space away from prying eyes.

With a smoldering intensity in his eyes, he bites his lip, gently cradling your face as he pulls you into a passionate, fiery kiss that ignites the air around you. You let out a soft gasp at his boldness, considering that Michael is the shy type, you just don't know what has gotten into him. His fingers trickle up your back, causing shivers making it so much more intense. The sound of you and Michael’s lips together got more heated within seconds. He pulled away just a little to catch his breath and to look at your beauty, his eyes grazed at the arousal on your face and how flustered you were.

He gave you a beautiful smile kissing your lips, his hair in a frizzy ponytail to the back with his few curls hanging in his face, you could see little spots of his vitiligo and it only made him look even lovelier, You loved that, even if he didn't.

“You are so beautiful” he whispered brushing his lips on your neck and nibbling on your soft skin, he gripped your waist pulling you flush against him. You let out a soft moan, only making Michael want you more, his self-control slipping away by the second.

“Michael, Get out of there!” Quincy spoke knocking on the glass. Michael looked at me, “Moan” he directly asked, “W-What-” You spoke in confusion, getting cut off by Michael’s hand in your panties, and began to rub your bud fast, keeping eye contact. You closed your eyes bit, your lip, and let a groan come out, “Baby let him know what's happening, louder,” he slipped his two fingers inside of you causing you to let out a breathy moan, “M-Michael,” You moaned. Michael's eyes darkened. “Louder baby,” he whispered, the pace of his fingers fastening, and gliding inside you with ease from your slippery walls. Your mouth opened letting out whimpers, grabbing hold of his arms for support, for you had gone almost weak in the knees.

He went faster feeling you clench around his fingers, “Michael, M-Fuck!” the feeling in your abdomen tightened. Michael watched the desire on your face with a smirk enjoying every second of it, while he on the other hand was aroused, he was damn near the edge without touching himself, But your pleasures always come first.

You pulsated on his Fingers, feeling your panties covered in your essence. You bit your lip gripping his shoulders hard, feeling yourself about to cum. You held onto the release until you felt a familiar coil in your abdomen, “Michael…” You let out helplessly, as you came hard on his fingers breathing hard. He slowly slipped his fingers out with a ‘Pop’ sound and brought them to his mouth sucking them dry.

[sviidoll]

pipe down girl ⸺ lewis hamilton

warning : dirty talk involved

as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the glittering cityscapes, a crescendo of anticipation began to build within the luxurious confines of a sleek glass penthouse with golden rays dancing through the expansive windows, illuminating the airy space with a warmth that embraced the soul.

lewis, ever the attentive host, navigated the rough living room, carefully arranging fresh-cut roses amidst the glistening crystal glasses. The succulent scent of simmering vegan burgers wafted through the air, mingling with the intoxicating perfume of fine French wine. 

he took a moment to admire the woman of his dreams, kiyah monet, who had just returned from a grueling day of filming with the moonlight dancing across her flawless ebony skin.

his voice trembled with anticipation as he spoke softly, "kiyah, I've missed you so much today."

she turned to face him, her expressive brown eyes shimmering with a deep affection. "lewis, I missed you more!" she said, touching his hand.

"you know what else I missed?" lewis replied, his voice low and seductive. "The way your lips feel when we kiss."

she smiled coyly, her eyes teasing him as she leaned in close. "maybe later," she whispered before sipping the rich red wine. her lips left a trail of crimson on the rim of the glass, arousing lewis even more.

as the evening progressed, the pair found themselves drawn deeper into one another's arms with their bodies swaying together, lost in the rhythm of soft jazz playing in the background.

"tell me about your day, love," lewis murmured, his fingers tracing delicate patterns up and down kiyah’s arm.

she sighed deeply, her gaze falling upon her blouse. "it was long," she confessed, "but i did get some great shots.

her eyes sparkled like polished amber against the flickering candlelight. "I got to work with some amazing people today," she added.

however, lewis reached over and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "i’m sure you were fantastic," he assured her, "just look at all these flowers," he said, gesturing towards the abundant array of blooms surrounding them. "they’re not half as beautiful as you."

she laughed softly, her shoulders shuddering with delight. "oh, stop it!" she teased, playfully swatting at lewis’s hands.

he smiled broadly, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "well, then, perhaps I should show you another side of my admiration," he suggested, his fingers brushing lightly against her cheek. she felt a heat wave wash over her body, igniting a fire that threatened to consume her entirely.

"are you serious?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly as she stared into lewis' eyes, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

a slow grin spread across lewis' face, his eyes gleaming with lust and anticipation. "more than anything," he murmured, his tone calm yet insistent. he then gently lifts her onto the plush velvet couch, positioning her comfortably before kneeling in front of her.

those strong hands of his caressing her legs, moving upward until they reached the hem of her skirt.

a soft gasp emitted from kiyah as he began to pull the material upwards, exposing her toned, tanned thighs, and revealing the lacy edge of her panties. his fingers graze along the satin fabric, tracing a path up her inner thigh. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin, and her pulse quickened in response. 

“you have no idea how sexy you look right now," lewis murmured, his voice thick with desire…

author note : late valentine special !! will be writing more now . . . !

mention . . . @yukinss @louvrepool @luvvtrent @love-bellee

[suizokukans]

"Do you dance?" Theo held out his hand toward Luzio, an expectant and hopeful expression upon his face. A soft, slow song could be heard faintly from the speakers perched atop the park lights. "Or, I guess I should ask, can I have this dance?" He didn't particularly care if Luzio could dance, just whether he'd be willing to sway to the song with Theo. "No pressure, though." He couldn't imagine him saying yes, but he could wish, right?

"...Huh." Whilst there was a part of him that was slowly adapting to Theo's occasionally spontaneous moments, something small like this was still enough to make him so silent. Red eyes staring at the offered hand before moving his gaze upwards to look at the other man. His pride would not allow him to confess he couldn't dance (did he even look like a person who could?), and his stubbornness kept him quiet for a while longer as he continued to stare at Theo with an unreadable expression. Of course there was no pressure, but it still felt as if it hung in the air to him.

After what could probably be described as the longest twenty seconds of either of their lives, the blonde eventually sighs, breaking his silence as he stands himself up, taking the outstretched hand. "As long as you don't make me do any crazy dance moves, sure."

[janumun]

Being Your First: Lucifer (NSFW Headcanon)

Pairing: Lucifer/Female Reader Rated: NSFW/18+ (far explicit than most of my other works, please proceed at your own discretion!)

Tags: inexperienced reader, first kisses, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering and intercourse, oral sex, possession, explicit imagery Summary: Let Lucifer instruct you in the art of all there is to learn about the pleasures of the flesh.

Author’s Notes: Requested during my Followers’ Celebration last year by this very sweet Anon (thank you so much, you’re going to have me crying at your kind words!). 

I am indeed still working through the backlog of requests I received last year (I’ll need to plan this out better the next time I open requests LOL) and have been slow since I did not expect the overwhelming response I received then. 

Thank you, thank you all a bunch for your kind words and for taking part in celebrating my blog milestone last year and to all those who requested! 

Happy Reading!

Lucifer’s been watching over you since the very beginning: your astute handling of the various situations you’re faced with, sharp wit and an uncanny faculty to win over his brothers, reeling his interest in slow, and then affections, to witness you grow by their sides.

How you seem to be in possession of the ability to hold every single entity in your sway should you will it, demonic or otherwise — and out of them all, you choose to turn his way, granting your affections to the Avatar of Pride. A woman of courage along with that captivating charm; you are his joy, his beloved.

And so, it comes as rather a surprise to learn that the woman Lucifer has chosen to hold in his eternity has allowed herself to remain untouched throughout her human years. Attractive as he finds you; the fact is hard for him to wrap his head around.

The confession comes up on the occasion of your first kiss...

 When gloved digits lift to curve around the shape of your cheeks. Thumb dragging delicate across the skin beneath your eye, earnest, in love. He watches momentarily; the quickenings of your breath, chest rising in subtle puffs of breath through pink, parted lips— delectable — the beats of your heart, rapid, he hears within. Lashes fluttering before they begin to fall, a fan of dark against flushed skin and he takes it permission, at last to tip your head upwards.

Pressing his lips against yours until he feels your entire body go lax beneath his touch, the longer he holds your kiss. Savoring each ecstatic shudder, until your mouth parts for his and he slides his tongue into you, testing against yours, he does not miss the momentary stiffness that takes your shoulders once he does.

Withdrawing slow, Lucifer observes you once more, for reluctance or discomfort. “Did you not like that? Perhaps, we are taking this too fast—”

Before you move to refute him, at once. “No! No... that’s not it at all. I liked it, very much so, might I add.” Cheeks flushed, he watches that gaze trek over his own features now as if watching for a reaction, you begin to speak slow. “That was my first kiss, that’s all.  But it felt really good, Lucifer. Would you kiss me again?”  

To say he’s rendered speechless for a few moments is an understatement. Several emotions; surprise, to know you have never been touched in this manner before. Pleasure to know he is the first one you’ve allowed yourself to have.

A sense of primal possession; at the knowledge that he alone shall stand as one who knows of his lover’s body in intimacy — the sole owner of your heart, mind and body — and to be the one to guide you through the pleasures to be had, of the flesh; a pride and honor. A vow made; to let you experience the heights of ecstasy to be reached, far out of bounds of mortal ability.

And so, Lucifer smiles; gentle love and adoration, at your request. “If it is what you wish for, princess.”

And he sinks back towards you, gloved fingers twining through your hair to drag you close as his mouth settles onto yours once more to bring you back to falling apart in his arms.

Believing in the set order to a relationship; Lucifer makes sure to take the time, however long it is, to prepare you, mind and body, long before he takes you to his bed.

Although you have more than once tried to further your advances, his mouth leaving you wanting more each time, Lucifer is quick to still the grind of your hips against his and silence the protests that fall from an unsatisfied tongue.

“You’re going to be patient for me, my love.” He chides in a low voice, withdrawing wet from your lips. “I have no desire to hurt you when you are yet unprepared.”

“But I’m not.” You protest, even as part of you agrees, a frisson of nervous energy running through each time Lucifer touches you this intimately. To not know what lies beyond, to want him this much; the prospect of it terrifies you, to not possess the knowledge to channel your desires in a manner adequate enough.

You want to have sex with this man you so love but you’re not sure you’re brave enough to take that first step all on your own.

Lucifer’s claret gaze sweeps over you at your answer, darkening, it steals a gasp from you just as sure as the possessive hands that settle at the shell of your hips, holding firm, before Lucifer’s thrusting himself forward; his own burgeoning arousal, hard and intimidating, grinding against your clothed pussy. “Are you then? Prepared as you say?”

You flush at the sheer size of him you feel through cloth alone, hard and hot, it steals your words effectively. “I…”

Impossible.

You don’t think you could accommodate him inside of you, at all.

His gaze loses part of its ferocity as gentle fingers curl into your hair to tug you close, Lucifer laying a kiss against your forehead, “Don’t worry so. When I do make you mine at last, I’ll carve into your body, pleasure so overwhelming, you’ll be begging for me to never stop, my love. And when that happens… I shall not let you leave my bed.”

You shiver in his embrace for an entirely different reason at his delectable threat.

“You have my word, princess.”

No opportunities are wasted, Lucifer’s making good on his promise to work you out, slow and torturous, for him.

And he teaches you, in turn. There are several ways, aside from penetration, that can have you unraveling from him just as easy.

Gloved fingers pinching at the hardened peaks of your breasts above cloth, he instructs you to let out your tongue, hot mouth closing around and swallowing your moans entirely when you buck against him, impatient and needy.

Reaching for one of his hands to guide towards your mouth; restless teeth closing around the fabric of his gloved index till you tug it off of his hand, exposing him at last. The pull of his lips; devious. Dark lust coloring that scarlet gaze, blood-red as the wine that intoxicates your cheeks to see it.

Bare digits reach to nudge a space in between your thighs before he settles the pad of curious fingers against your soaked entrance. Tracing you above underwear as if mapping the shape of you, before Lucifer’s tugging aside your panties to test a finger within your depths. You arc into him, head thrown back at the electricity that spills up your spine at the press of his thumb into your clit.

Breath juddering out of your lungs and then swept entirely from you with the sudden tumble of you back into his sheets, legs cleaved apart until you see that dark head disappear into the space of your thighs. Lust clouding your thoughts, slowing them entirely until you feel the warmth of his tongue against that tight bead of pleasure, sweeping your slick into his mouth. Edging that deft tongue into your depths, you cannot speak anymore from how good he’s making you feel, you’re convulsing around him, vehement, all too soon.

You cannot count the number of times he’s had you releasing yourself, on his fingers, into his mouth. Bringing you to the Heavens until you see the stars above, or burn as hot as the fires of Hell itself, with merely but a touch.

Dragging you to the heights of ecstasy until you’re entirely addicted to the taste of him within you, around you; your love for your majestic demon serving only to heighten your desires for him, building until they almost overflow.

You want him in his entirety, to feel him within, to know he is joined to you as deeply as your bodies will allow you to. The desire is almost unbearable, until Lucifer allows you to have him, at last.

The fated night — he spoke of it to you several days earlier, of how he would make you his — arrives.

Dressed smart and regal, he’s reaching to fold your hand into the crook of his arm as he escorts you out to dinner at a private establishment.

And right after, a room he had booked prior, for the night. 

Peeling your coat off for you as soon as you’re inside, followed after by gloved fingers dancing across the skin of your shoulders, dragging fabric down to reveal you to his sight.

Left in your underwear alone while he remains fully clothed still, you let that claret gaze sweep across you, the emotions buried within, inscrutable and you flush under the intense scrutiny of his gaze.

Guiding you into the showers where Lucifer insists on ‘bathing’ you, thoroughly, fingers pressing into your pussy, drenched, long before he even touches you. Leaving you to drown your embarrassment against a hot tongue pulsing into your mouth. 

His clothes yet unremoved, the dark fabric of his shirt drenched beneath the hot flow of water. Clinging delectable to the firm spread of his pectorals… and down further, mapping the shape and ridge of his abdomen, you swallow at the erotic sight of it. Arousal running free down your thighs as he presses a flutter of kisses down the expanse of your neck and breasts, fingers scissoring into your depths.

Rendering you dazed with an orgasm that has you swaying into him. Before he sweeps you up and into his arms and out into the bedroom. 

Striding towards the bed before depositing you, careful, onto the sheets, flushed, wet and so very naked beneath him.

You drag him closer, eager hands wrestling his clothes off of him and he lets you. Parting your thighs before you can do much else, to sink into the space in between. Hot mouth closing around and sucking at your clit until you almost scream for him, so very sensitive and throbbing. Fingers twining through yours to hold your hand down captive against the sheets when you try and reach for his cock in an attempt to make him feel just as good, you writhe underneath him, unable to do much but call for him on breathless cries.

Satin sheets, rose red, you sink further into the mattress, inhaling the intoxicating mix of arousal and demon musk in the air. 

Watching how utterly beautiful Lucifer looks in his uncharacteristic impatience tonight; dark locks tousled underneath the assault of your fingers as he’d gone down on you for hours on end earlier.

Your legs, now gathered within the grip of a muscled arm and thrown over one of his shoulders, dark desire burning vicious within the scarlet of his gaze, along with the love you see heightened within.

His gaze trekking over your skin: almost a predator’s caress and you shudder to feel the roll of his cock, hot and heavy, in between your thighs.

The tremble to the proud set of his shoulders, the sharp press of canines into lower lip, as you see him reign in control to watch his length slip slow into your tight, wet depths and you gasp at the foreign feeling. So full of him, it feels as if he reaches every single part within your aching pussy. It’s a feeling you do not entirely dislike.

Your heart just as full to have every single inch of him sheathed within you, at last.

“Are you alright?” He inquires, fingers tracing sweat soaked locks aside from your forehead, his gaze fixated to yours.

And you answer in the affirmative, hips pressing up into him, asking for more.

Lucifer’s mouth falls open, dark eyes burning into yours as he sweeps in for a taste of your lips. Pelvis thrusting forwards for a taste of your body and you keen, loud and long, beneath him.

His hands are slipping underneath your thighs, lifting you upwards to ram his hips against yours. Hooking your legs over those broad, firm shoulders to reach places within you, you weren’t even aware could feel as good.

Your first orgasm underneath Lucifer’s just the beginning.

As if a dam’s burst at last, he’s seeking your body several times throughout the entirety of your night together. Pressing kisses into every single inch of you until he’s made sure his mouth, hands and eyes know of each and every single place that sparks pleasure across your nerves.

Leaving you so entirely satiated and full of him, you require his help after your long love-making, to clean you up of your mixed arousals that leaks onto the sheets even after his mouth settles back down against your overstimulated pussy, tongue pulsing into your depths, as if a man enslaved to the very taste of you.

Having made you his in your entirety.

End Notes: Thank you for reading!

♧° Link to Master List °♡

[euphoricstranger]

Lovers Lake (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Warning: Stranger Things season 4 spoilers!

Hey! So this is my first post and after a few years of not writing I’ve decided to come here and give it another crack. I dedicate my first post to our beloved Eddie Munson who quite frankly deserves the world. I hope you enjoy.

Backstory: Y/N and Eddie have been close friends all throughout high school. They’d do anything for each other and to the Hellfire clubs disappointment the two were always so blind to each other’s love and would never confess their feelings. After Eddie gets caught up in the mess of Chrissys death and runs away, Y/N has waited anxiously for her friends to find him and hug him once more.

—————-

“L/N are you there? L/N!” Dustins voice sounded from the walkie as I jolted up and grabbed it, switching it on.

“Im here…did you find him?” I whispered as I swung my legs over the side of my bed, gripping onto the bedsheets nervously.

“Yeah we found him.”

A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I ran to my closet to grab my clothes. I began to change as I listened closely to Dustins instructions. Lovers Lake, thats where I needed to meet them. Dustin couldn’t explain much but I didn’t care. Eddie was with them and that was all that mattered.

I’d been waiting for the right moment to sneak out but the time had never come. My parents always seemed to be home. Don’t get the wrong idea they’re not strict, they just don’t want me to get murdered. Fair enough. Luckily the timing had matched up perfectly, they’d left for the store and I was free to leave.

I ran downstairs as i grabbed my bag and swung it over my shoulders, running outside and picking up my bike that laid on the grass in our front yard. I peddled quickly, my legs working hard to get me where i needed to go and after what felt like forever i was round the corner from the lake.

I ditched my bike in some bushes so it was unseen and weaved my way through the trees down to the lake. It was as if time slowed, Eddies laughter filled my ears as I began to run in the direction of it.

“Eddie” I cried out as his figure came into view. His smile turned into a look of shock as he turned towards me, soon opening his arms as i ran into them, hugging him tighter then i ever have before.

I didn’t realise it but tears ran down my cheeks as he swayed us from side to side, his fingers in my hair as he shushed me.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me- I’m quite offended by this greeting” he joked as my sob turned into a quiet chuckle. He still had his humour. He soon pulled away from the hug and stared into my eyes. The rest of the group backed away as they took it as a sign to leave and get more clues on the Vecna mystery.

“How are you always so beautiful?” He mumbled, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “You’re crying and i still can’t pick out a single flaw about you.”

A blush arose on my cheeks as i casted my eyes down to the floor, staring intensely at my shoes. He always did this, he always flirted with me but I couldn’t help but assume it was just friendly flirting.

He placed a finger under my chin and tilted it upwards. “I mean it L/N.”

“Eddie..”

“Y/N.”

I stared into his eyes as I dropped my bag to the floor, my hands flying up to his face to cup his cheeks and bring him into a passionate kiss. At first he was shocked but soon melted into the kiss, closing his eyes and pulling me closer by my waist.

It was bold to kiss him like that but I couldn’t afford to loose him without showing him how i feel amd by the looks of it, he was far from upset about it.

“You’re cheesy L/N” he mumbled against my lips as i frowned in confusion.

“You decide our first kiss should be right next to lovers lake?” He questioned with an amused tone as i huffed and pulled away, trying to keep up my unamused demeanour but lost it once i saw his facial expression, bursting out in laughter as he brought me into a hug. Our sweet moment didn’t last long as Dustin ran to us yelling nonsense as Eddie gave me a knowing look.

With one last kiss on the top of my head we made our way over to him ready to ask the question on everyones mind…

What the hell do we do now.

[mandoalorian]

I saw this Tik tok edit of Max Lord with “Money money money” by Abba and I just can’t stop think about him absolutely railing me in an obnoxiously expensive setting like a hotel golden bathtub or something like that 🥵

Bubble Bath [Maxwell Lord x F! Reader] SMUT

Rating: 18+

Warnings: unprotected p in v, creampie, bath sex (?), hardcore railing, slight degradation from Max, male masturbation

Masterlist

You sat on the edge of the gold engraved bathtub, slushing your hand in the warm water to check the temperature. It was one of those rare occasions where you'd decided to join Maxwell on one of his business trips. You hated being without him, and you'd always wanted to see Italy, so it sounded like the perfect opportunity.

You ditched your short silk robe, letting the flimsy material fall to the ground, and relished the way the hot thick air made your skin sticky before you dipped your toes into the water. Little did you know, Maxwell was in the other room, laying on your hotel suite bed, lazily jerking off. He had gotten hard from the little make out session you had earlier, but once you saw the time, you told him you had to stop and get ready for your dinner reservations. You encouraged him to do the same, even picking out his tux for him before you went into the bathroom. He'd get ready, sure, but he had to sort this out first.

His eyes fluttered shut as his fingers curled around the base of his cock, pumping it to the thought of you in the bath. He groaned, imagining you washing your body, your slick wet hands soaping up every inch of your skin. He wished he was in there with you, helping you out. Washing you. Any excuse to touch you— touch every part of you. He wanted to let his hands slide over your perfect breasts, squeeze them, pinch them. He wanted to rub your tummy and kneed his fingers into your hips.

Just then, his eyes snapped open as he had a bright idea. Why couldn't he do that? He heard the faucet in the bathroom stop running, indicating the bathtub was full and you were about to go in. Still holding his erection in his hand, he shuffled out of bed and stepped out of his pants. Padding over to the door, he was grateful to realise you hadn't even locked it.

Dirty little slut. He thought. You want this.

He chuckled darkly, pushing the door open and immediately spotting you brush your teeth at the sink. His eyes were fixated on your body. You were beautiful, and you were all his. He quietly stalked over to you, before abruptly wrapping his big arms around you causing you to squeal in shock. "Maxie!" you exclaimed, a little bit of toothpaste dribbling onto your lip. Maxwell chuckled and wiped it away with his thumb.

His large hands navigated down to your tummy, his rock hard member pressing against the curve of your ass as he pressed hot, wet kisses down your neck and along your shoulder. "Baby, what are you doing?" you mumbled, your eyes fluttered shut in delight as he slid his tongue across your wet sticky skin. His touch was blissful and you felt your cunt begin to ache with need for him.

"Feel this?" he asked, his voice deep and gravely. He brushed his erection between the inside of your thighs, leaving a small trail of his leaked precum along your skin. It was enough for your to feel, that's for sure. You were unable to escape the uncontrollable moan that left your lips.

"Shit, I do," you whimpered as you realised how hard he actually was. "One second, I gotta spit."

"You don't spit anything." he growled, his large hand finding your neck and experimentally squeezing.

"Mm-Maxie," you whined, rinsing the toothbrush and placing it on the edge of the sink. "It's toothpaste." you giggled sheepishly. A small 'oh' left his mouth. You spat into the sink, rinsed it away, took a sip of water, and turned yourself back to your boyfriend. "You need me to take care of you?" you cooed, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips and letting your hands fall down to his cock. You let your thumb sweep over the head of his manhood, collecting anymore of his precum from his slit before bringing it up to your mouth and sucking with contentment.

He felt his cock twitch just from the sight of you sucking on your thumb. He wished he could just ruthlessly fuck your pretty mouth and cum all over your face. And you'd take it like the greedy little thing you were. But he didn't have all the time in the world and you both still had to get ready.

"Get into the tub." He commanded, pointing his ring clad finger to the filled up bath.

"Maxie, I was gonna go down on you." you explained, fluttering your eyelashes seductively.

"Later, we don't have time," he Max told you. You obliged, walking over to the bathtub and swaying your hips. He gave your ass a spanking, seeing right through your dirty action. "I wanna fuck you in the tub." He announced, pulling off his undershirt so he, like you, was completely naked.

You climbed into the tub and he followed suit, immediately pinning you against the tiled wall. He held your arms up in the air and you rubbed your ass against him with desperation. "Isn't this like, a slip risk?" you asked, but any concern you might've had was immediately brushed away by Maxwell nibbling at your skin.

"I've got you," he promised, pushing the blunt head of his cock against your dripping wet folds. He moaned as he felt just how aroused you were. "I'm gonna rail you so hard baby girl, you aren't gonna be able to walk to dinner."

"You'll have to carry me then," you purred, tossing your head back against his shoulder as he pushed himself inside you. He doubled back, waiting a few moments, before once again seating his full, thick girth inside your warm pussy. It felt a haven to him.

"So perfect sweet girl," he praised, letting you adjust to his length. "You take my cock so well."

You felt your walls clench around him at the appraisal. He knew the compliments and words of affirmation from him were the key to your heart. Your breasts were pressed against the white tile and you unapologetically began to pinch your hardening nipples as Maxwell began to set up a pace.

"Fuck Max," you hissed as he built up his rhythm. He started out slow, making sure not to hurt you, but then gently built himself up, working himself into you harder and faster. No matter what, he was always consistent. He pulled your legs apart slightly and thrusted upwards, his cock hitting your g-spot. You let out a scream, and immediately felt your cheeks heating up hoping that your hotel neighbors hadn't overheard. Maxwell on the other hand wanted them to hear. If he could have it his way, he'd want the whole world to know how good of a fuck he was.

"Right there?" he asked almost condescendingly, thrusting upwards again and hitting your sweet spot. "Oh you like that don't you?" he chuckled. "I can feel it. Such a good little hole taking me like this in the tub huh."

Pearls of sweat laced along your collarbones as he kept you steady, and despite him absolutely railing you in the bathtub, you knew you could trust him to keep tight a hold of you and not let you fall. His large biceps always made you feel safe. He was so strong, and you loved him so much. As his speed increased, the both of you were so lost in the coital haze you hadn't even notice the water spilling out of the tub and pooling onto the ground.

"I'm close princess," Maxwell gasped, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. You reached a hand into his damp hair, tugging on it. You knew how much he liked it, and it only stirred him on. "Cum on my cock. Come on baby girl, I know you can do it." he encouraged, another loud groan escaping his lips as his hips snapped into yours.

"Mm Maxie, more," you whined and Maxwell bit down on your skin.

"Oh, more? You always were greedy," he chuckled, bringing his hand down to your clit. He began to swirl his thumb into perfect, tight little circles. You felt your thighs shake and your legs felt like they were going to cave in. Your climax was about to wash over you and you knew it.

"Sh- shit Max!" you cried as he continued to fondle with your clit and fuck his way harder into your pussy.

"On the count of three, we cum at the same time." He commanded, not stopping his movements once. You couldn't even reply, instead breathlessly nodding your head in agreement. "Three, two, one- ah!"

Your walls gripped his cock like a vice and he felt his balls tighten as he pushed his final thrust into you. You came undone beneath him, your entire body shaking in ecstasy as you felt his warm seed spill inside of you. Neither of you said a word. He kept you still pinned against the wall, pressing gentle and affectionate kisses into your back. He let himself soften inside of you before finally slipping out. You groaned at the lost feeling of fullness. He turned you around so he could kiss your lips. "I love you." he confessed, with a helpless shrug of his shoulders.

"I love you too." you smiled, gazing into his honey brown eyes.

"Come on, quicker we get to dinner, quicker we can come back to the hotel room for dessert." he winked and you felt your tummy erupt into a frenzy of butterflies. He really was the love of your life.

Taglists— let me know if you wish to be added!

Max Lord: @mrschiltoncat

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon

[bakugohoex]

I know we all love the monkey man and hes sexy and everything...but maybe Zeke for number 1 or your 1k fluff prompts? Theres never anything for him that's fluff...🥺🙏

“you’ll be mine one day”

pairing: zeke yeager x female reader

cw: language, mentions of weed and alcohol, fluff, reader cheating with zeke, mutual pining

word count: ​2500+

a/n: yes i all monkey man sm and of course this fluff has a bit of a weird theme to it but i hope you still liked it

summary: in which after meeting zeke multiple times throughout the month, every time saying the same thing, the only problem being that you have a drunken boyfriend in his way

1k event masterlist

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

Zeke loved coffee, everyday for the past month he’d walk right into the coffee shop right before work started, ordering his favourite coffee and waiting in the seat right beside the window. The atmosphere smelled of crushed coffee beans, the cakes and desserts that were behind glass. Zeke loved coffee especially when the pretty barista with locks that framed her face perfectly was the one to take his order and give him the coffee cup with the perfect heart in it. He loved coffee like an addict does opium, he loved the way it sat on his tongue, the way it looked at him with such lust. The way it’d be gone in a matter of seconds in one rash blink.

You knew the man’s routine so often that when he’d be running late a hurt was felt through your body. Zeke and you both knew that the constant glances in the half an hour he stayed at the window seat, the lingering touches as you grabbed the empty coffee cup to get him another was wrong. But even then how could he resist you, the way your eyes spoke so much in just a mere glance. He felt infatuated beyond belief but there was one thing in his way of pursuing anything with you, your boyfriend.

With his unkempt hair and smell of weed always around him, Zeke didn’t understand why someone as delightful and pretty as you would go for someone who looked off his head. He was unemployed from what Zeke had gathered; he knew if you were with him you wouldn’t have to work this job. You could stay at home and be his, you wouldn’t have to worry about making ends meet as long as you stayed by his side.

Even with your boyfriend being a minor factor in his mission to get you, he left the same words on the napkin each day, he always left as soon as you went into the back to restock the cupcakes and savoury desserts. The napkin placed on top of the empty mug, you hated how much influence the man had on you.

You had had many conversations with him when work got slow which occurred a lot when he came in the early mornings. But even then his insistence that you’d come to him was prevalent, maybe you did have a crush on the man, he was older by a couple years, established in life, had the stability and security you and your boyfriend never had and worst of all. He had the ability to flirt with you so easily even with the risk of your boyfriend around, Zeke may have respected the position of your relationship with another, but he would never give up on you as easily as you had expected him too.

It was another early morning, you stood behind the counter, watching Zeke in his tight suit, the white shirt unbuttoned as his suit jacket swayed with the wind. The cigarette that he had in his mouth being chucked to the ground as he stepped on it putting it out. The sound of the door jingling made you plaster on a smile at the blond boy who came with a small smirk on his face. “Hello, what can I get for you today, Zeke?” The place was pretty much empty, it hadn’t hit the morning shifts yet and you assumed Zeke started working a lot earlier than the rest of the city. You were the only one at the counter as your colleague had gone to make some food for when the breakfast rush came.

“Morning Y/n, can I have a white coffee and your number on the side?” He spoke the last part confidently with his lip twitching upwards at how you shook your head.

“Nice try Zeke, anything else you need?”

He paused thinking as he stared at you, you looked so delicate and pretty, all the things he could do to you flashed through his head. Maybe it was sleazy to think such crude thoughts but what you didn’t know didn’t harm you, right? “You, if possible.”

“I’ll have your drink made in a couple minutes, Zeke.” You chuckled out, he loved the way you said his name, the way you gave that soft touch as he passed you the money. Your fingers gliding against his own, he took his normal seat watching you pour the hot liquid into the cup, he knew you’d give him another heart like you normally did. You always did concentrate too much on the finer details, you took the cup and plate that went under it bringing it to the man. Placing it down, Zeke saw the heart as you gave him a soft smile, “what you working on now?” You questioned knowing nobody else was going to come in.

You took the seat opposite him, the papers in his hand that looked really important, “foreign affairs, all hush hush, but for a pretty girl like you I could tell you the details.”

“Wouldn’t that be a national security issue?” You folded your arms raising an eye at the man, he gave off this presence of confidence and knew exactly what he was doing with his life. A stability that seemed ever so far away from you, you had often imagined what dating a man like Zeke would be like, how you could work full time at university instead of part time, how you could come home to warmth rather than weed. “Tell me more about what you do.”

You leant your head against your arm as you often spent mornings listening to him ramble on about his career, nodding and humming along whenever the time came. He seemed to enjoy speaking about his work, you could listen to it forever, you nodded almost love struck as the man spoke. Your work colleagues often saying you looked like a girl who was talking to her first crush. “One day I’ll show you what we’re working on.” You nodded at the false promise, one day he’d forget about the barista, he'd become too big, too important for a girl who had nothing going for her than an alcoholic weed smoking loser.

“Promise.” You hadn’t meant to whisper the words, but Zeke gave a soft smile.

He watched how you put your hands out, away from your chin as you leant backwards, grabbing your hands he looked you dead in the eye, “I don’t lie to pretty girls.”

You gave another chuckle, seeing how your eyes went to the arriving customers, the rush about to occur. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You walked away without another word, he watched you go into the back to help bring some of the new produce. Quickly bringing his pen out as he wrote the words onto the napkin, you’ll be mine one day, in his cursive handwriting, his initials were underneath before leaving it beside the empty coffee. Grabbing his stuff as he left just as customers began to barge past to get their morning fix, he took one last look inside seeing you happily smile and take their money, before finally walking away.

You had managed to hand out the coffee cups to those in a hurry before starting to clear tables, taking the napkin Zeke left, the same words every day. Maybe if you had outright told him to stop he would, but the excitement each day you got from the romantic gesture filled your heart. You didn’t know what had gone wrong in your relationship with your boyfriend, maybe it was the drugs or his loss of job. Maybe you had fallen out of love and he had notices, his lying and pleas to make you stay by him. The manipulation and deceit something you wouldn’t get from Zeke; you stuffed the napkin in your pocket ready to put it with the 28 other napkins you had.

Keeping all safe within a box in your bedroom, the fear that arose from being caught with it all. Maybe it was emotional cheating but in a relationship like your own maybe you deserved better, you wiped your hands on your apron. Everything has subsided as you and your colleague went on your break as your manager took over.

“I see how you look at Zeke, just break up with your shitty boyfriend.” She said taking a sip of her coffee, you had your own in your hand thinking about the man.

“I can’t, he needs me.”

She raised her eyebrow at the comment, “he needs a fix and therapy, Y/n, I might sound like an ass right now, but all your boyfriend thinks about is getting his dick wet, getting high and getting drunk.”

There was truth in your friends words and as your break ended, you gripped the napkin tighter than you had imagined. Staring at the eloquent writing, the way he wrote Z and Y, even his handwriting seemed perfect. You took a sharp breath realising that in the 29 days you had known Zeke, he had provided more love and warmth than the man you had been dating for years now. You needed to break up with him, needed to confess to Zeke that his crush wasn’t one sided.

Just as the café closed up, you nimbly parted ways from your friend as you began to walk to your apartment. You knew what was to occur, your boyfriend on the couch high with his friends beside him, you really didn’t want to go back. You felt your phone begin to ring as you answered it to hear the drunken shouting of your boyfriend, you didn’t even bother with the words instead hanging up. Clinging the napkin between your fingers, you walked a different direction, towards the offices that Zeke had so often told you about.

You didn’t know what you would do once you arrived but the glass doors with the frosted words of Marley led you to walk inside. The yellow lights bringing warmth as you walked towards the front desk, you didn’t look like you belonged, looked like some stray. You tapped your fingers against the white marble as the woman finally turned to meet you, “hi, what can I help you with?”

She smiled at you as you really had no idea what to say, “Zeke.”

“Zeke?” She paused, “like Mr. Yeager, one of the partners here.” You nodded as she gave a confused look at you. “Who are you?”

“I’m a friend of his, do you know where I…I can find him.” She looked at you hesitantly.

She tapped on the keyboard, the only sound being her taps, “I can call him down if he’s a friend, we have a security measure so I can’t send you up, but if you wait on those chairs he’ll be down shortly.”

You nodded quickly turning on your heels as you moved to the white chairs, it looked empty, the staff probably having left hours ago. You hadn’t realised Zeke to have been a partner of this place, it seemed way above your standards. You felt the need to leave and never come back, to apologise for wasting the woman’s time but just as you were about to get up. The ding of the elevator made you stop, Zeke coming out with a brunette-haired woman, she smiled at the man as he walked beside her speaking on some matters.

He went to the front office lady and he pointed to you as both him and the woman looked at you. Zeke confused before beginning to walk up to you, “Y/n, what happened?”

“I…I…don’t know why I came here?” You paused taking a sharp breath, “so…sorry I should go, I…” You were ready to run away, embarrassment across your face at the fear of feeling vulnerable in front of this man.

He grabs your wrist stopping you from leaving, bringing you to face him again, “Pieck, I’ll see you tomorrow.” The woman he had been with nodded saying a goodbye before she left herself, “come on, you can explain everything in my office.”

You didn’t know how you had agreed to go with him, your other hand had been clutching the napkin out of instinct, he guided you up the elevator, his taller frame against your own as his hand was on your back. He shuffled you along past the many smaller offices before his name was frosted onto the door, opening the glass as he let you into the much larger area.

“Take a seat.” He gestured to the couch that had a coffee table in front of it, he got out some alcohol putting it on the table as he poured two glasses out for the two of you. “What happened?”

“I…I…I’m sorry, I interrupted your meeting, and I shouldn’t have come here.” You were ready to get up again, but Zeke moved to sit beside you. His discarded suit jacket on his desk as he had rolled up his sleeves, his glasses sitting perfectly across his face.

He brought his hands to your one shaky ones, it seemed to have calmed you down, but he noticed the napkin scrunched up in your hands. “Shoosh it’s okay, take your time.”

You nodded taking a sharp breath as you explained how your boyfriend had shouted at you and how you really didn’t want to go back to your apartment. “I just can’t do this anymore Zeke, I…I deserve happiness right, I do don’t I?”

Zeke had noticed the tears form in your eyes, it cascaded down your perfect face as he wiped them away softly. He was frustrated, frustrated at your arrogant dickhead of a boyfriend, frustrated at the world for making his girl cry.

“You deserve happiness.” You didn’t know what had gotten into you, but at his tender sweet words you moved your hand onto his thigh, crashing your lips onto his own. You felt no guilt, nothing as you kissed the man, your other man moving to his blonde beard as you cupped his face. He knew it was wrong, you had a boyfriend, you were cheating but he couldn’t resist you. He felt you crawl onto his lap, pushing him against the couch as you deepened the kiss. His tongue gliding inside your own as you gave a soft moan of his name, it sent him into an overload as he gripped your waist with one hand and the other to caress your cheek.

He watched as a string of saliva stayed between the two mouths as you both parted, “I…shouldn’t have done that.”

“Don’t go back on me now, doll.” He teased, laying underneath you, he brought his hand to touch your hair, his touch making you go soft inside. “I told you…”

“Told me what?” You questioned still on his lap; he brought his head closer again to your mouth.

Through every kiss he gave you, he said the four words, “that you’d be mine someday” In a matter of seconds you realised the implications of his words, you were his, you were everything he had dreamt about. You would leave that disgusting man and be Zeke’s forever.

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[tastyykpop]

Hiii Congrats on reaching the milestone💕💕love your blog btw!! Could you please do a Taeyong smut where he is kinda cold to her before but confesses after he becomes very jealous??

Hii ty so much u have no clue how much this means to me🥺

ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪᴅɪᴏᴛ

Pairings: tsundere!taeyong x reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: d/s themes, jealousy, possessiveness, marking, praising, a dash of spanking, fingering, hair pulling, unprotected sex

I finished this at 4am so it's not edited 💔

"Lee Taeyong!!" You chased the dark haired boy down the side walk, never turning to look back as his name was called, "Wait for me please!"

He scoffed. Luckily you couldn't hear him. "What an annoying brat." Taeyong continued on, still ignoring you and your protests of him walking away.

Running as fast as you could to catch up was easier said then done. You held boba and your food from a nearby fast food restaurant in one hand, Taeyongs in another with your purse flopping against you. You wouldn't be in this situation if Taeyong scare you into holding his food for you, threatening you with a cold stare.

Yes, you and Taeyong are friends. It's odd because of how cold and almost rude he is with you, but you're somehow friends, at least you think you are. Some people say he's got a soft spot for you but you're not too sure anymore. One day hes calling you an idiot for not taking care of yourself and the next hes rolling his eyes at you and telling you to fuck off. Coming to the conclusion that maybe he only thinks of you as a friend, you started pushing him away recently and hung out with another friend of yours. Too bad because you may have had feelings for Taeyong too. Something about him made you want to stick around even though most of the time he didn't want you around.

"Goddammit Taeyong...wait up!"

As annoying as it was to be running with food and drinks in both hands, the most annoying part had to be the purse. It was big, heavy, and swayed with every step, bumping into your left arm ever millisecond. Why couldn't you just man up to Taeyong before?

"Bastard."

"Did you say something?"

"Huh- what!? When did you-" you tilted your head upwards to meet Taeyongs arched brow and impatient face. How did you not realize you caught up?

You pushed his food and drink into his chest and grumbled, "Here." And without waiting for Taeyong, you readjusted your purse and walked to your house with expectations that he would follow.

Taeyong frowned yet tailed you like a lost puppy.. He didn't have any plans catching up to you or telling you to wait for him and just admired you from behind. He liked the way your hair bounced over your shoulders with every step, the way your hips swayed as you walked. He even liked how long the skirt made your legs look even though you were tiny compared to him. Taeyong liked you without a doubt, but he wouldnt actually tell you that.

"Are you coming?" You opened the door to your house. Taeyong didn't answer, only pushing you out of the way and beelining it to the table where he placed his food and drink. "I'll take that as a yes..." you sigh.

Placing your food gently on the table, you sat across from the male who eyed you up and down but with no expression crossing his face.

"Y/n." Taeyongs stern voice startled you as you almost choked on a boba pearl. "Whats on your neck?"

"My neck?" Softly, you touched the side of your neck before realizing what he meant. Yesterday, that friend of yours that you've started hanging out with asked you to hang out. And little did you know, hanging out didn't mean just watching movies or joking around. It soon turned to small touches, then kissing, then making out. Before you knew it, he was kissing and sucking your neck, creating the purple mark that now painted your skin. "Oh...it's nothing. Just a bruise."

"What are you stupid? Your telling me you just happened to bruise your neck? Dumbass."

"Then why did you ask if you already know?" You mumbled.

As you took the biggest bite from your burger, Taeyong had to speak up again, "I hate it."

"Its a good thing it's not on you then isn't it."

"I think you would look better covered in my marks." His voice never faltered and you were sure he was joking. Taeyongs always been straight forward with you, but this seemed like a joke, it had to be a joke. Your mind was playing tricks on you and this is what you wanted to hear. It can't be real.

"You're kidding right...?"

"Completely serious."

"So you're...jealous?"

"Stop asking so many questions." He said coldly, shutting you up quickly, but the smirk on your face still lingered.

"I just think it's funny that a small mark on my neck could make someone as cold as you are, jealous." You say, confidence flowing out of you out of nowhere and this time, Taeyong went quiet. "Its cute."

"Cute? You know what's cute is me bending you over this table and fucking the life out of you so you only remember my name and who owns that cute ass."

Heat rose to your cheeks and the tips of your ears, and maybe Taeyong could tell but youre sure your face was starting to show a hint of red, "Now I know you're just bluffing."

Taeyong rolled his eyes, "Come here and shut that mouth, I'll show you I'm not." It had to be the way his voice growled that made you suddenly get out of your seat and stand before the man. It's easy for you to be flustered but it's also easy for you to obey someone that shows more dominance and Taeyong- well he was just overflowing with it.

"We're gonna have a little fun, yeah?" He smiled devishly, "You trust me right?"

"Y-yeah, I m-mean we are f-friends."

Suddenly, your body was bent over the table and your wrists were bound by Taeyongs hand. If you wanted to escape, Taeyong wouldn't let allow it, so you were locked in place.

God, the way this position impacted Taeyong to the point where he just wanted to fuck you all day and night. With your skirt barely hiding your pretty pink panties, he could easily get off by himself at the sight. He didn't need to do that though, he had you after all.

"Did he touch you?" You hear him say, voice low and frightening, enough to paralyze you from moving and speaking. But to his dismay you didn't answer. Moreover, hesitated to answer because of the tone he used. "I asked you a question." He growled, "Did. He. Touch. You."

A soothing hand ran up the sides of you skin, it was cold, almost like a vampires touch compared to your warm skin. "Y-yes."

Taeyong stopped, "Where?"

"Why does it matter?" You say, finding your confidence again though that won't last since your bent over the table with your ass in Taeyongs face.

"I dont want you to remember his touch, only mine. So I'll touch any place he touched." He continued touching where he could reach, the hand binding your wrists let up and rested on your ass as if about to spank you. "Now answer me."

You grumbled and arched your back as a way to tell Taeyong to shut up and fuck you. The pain of something not filling you up was unbearable, you even thought about slipping your fingers inside dripping cunt for relief. "Stop asking me questions and fuck me please."

"God you're so annoying." He spoke. "Im not going to fuck you until you tell me. It shouldnt be that hard since you're so confident." Taeyong pulled you up by your hair and forced you on his lap where your back was pressed against his chest. You couldnt look him in the face, too afraid that you'd break into a blabbering mess.

"H-he touched m-me," you grab Taeyongs hand with hesitation and placed it on your panties that covered your leaking hole, "here."

Almost positive Taeyong could feel your juices soaking through your panties, you pulled your hand away letting his own linger where you needed him most.

"What did he do when he touched you here?" His middle finger went along the slit of your cunt, dragging up and down gently.

"N-nothing."

He crooked his head before pushing your panties to the side and dipping two fingers in, "He didn't do this?" As you body arched into him, he was able to go deeper and finger you slow enough that you were sure it was teasing. And the pain of wanting to be filled up slowly disappeared but not enough.

"N-no, he d-didnt." As he began picking up speed, you cursed a threw your head back. You cried for more, struggling to stay still in his lap and his fingers worked magically inside you.

Taeyong loved every second of this. To finally see you melt in his arms literally when you could so easily turn him down for this. And he'd like to think he was the only one who could make you feel this way. Make you whimper and whine and call out to him for more. He was the only one for you.

"Please T-Taeyong, i want you to f-fuck me so bad," with a third finger slipping inside you, you moaned uncontrollably at the pace. Though you weren't stuffed like you would be with his dick, it was obvious Taeyong knew how to work his fingers to make you act this way. "Please, please, please..."

"Where else did he touch you?" He ignored your please.

It irked you how he didn't bat an eyelash at your desperate self. If you had your confidence again, you would have taken his dick out and sat on it without a question, even so you knew Taeyong wouldn't allow it just yet. He wanted you to fall apart before he even started.

"Mmm Taeyong-" you moaned with content as his fingers curved against your walls, "H-He touched m-my ch-chest."

Taeyong bit the inside of his cheek trying to hide the smirk that formed, "Guess ill just do the same." His free hand worked its way to your mounds where he proceeded to grope you and brush over your sensitive buds. The combination of his fingers inside you and his hands fondling your boobs was sure to bring your to an orgasm soon.

"Youre so beautiful." Taeyong mumbles into your ear, "so fucking perfect."

As carefully as can be, his fingers pulled out of you as a string of your slick connected to his three fingers.

So delicious, Taeyong thought, everything about you was so delicious.

You were flipped around so you faced Taeyong. This time, you didn't look away from him or hide your face from him. Instead, you maintained eye contact with the pretty boy below you before you suddenly pulled him into a desperate and needy kiss.

His heart beat faster than before. His ears burning as his face was flushed. You kissed him. You, the girl that he's been crushing on for years finally kissed him. It only took his jealousy to make this all happen.

"You don't understand how much I love you," he unbuckled his belt, "I cherish every minute and every second I spend with you," soon his pants were unbuttoned, "I can't stand seeing you with someone else," He slipped his dick inside of you with ease, a moan falling from both of you, "Even if you don't love me back, I still fucking do."

You couldnt find words to speak. Your mind was running but not thinking. If you spoke, you weren't sure if it'd be babbling or moaning because of how hard Taeyong fucked up into you. "I-i lo-" No, you couldnt say it back, not while being fucked into a whole new galaxy.

Taeyong on the other hand, was anxious yet pounded into you, enough to bring tears to your eyes. He wanted you to speak, he wanted to hear those three words come out of your mouth, but all he got was your adorable moans and sighs. Yet he wasn't complaining, they sounded lovely apart from the skin against skin. He's just overthinking.

"Youre doing so well, baby." His voice slowly fading, you were so lost in the feeling that anything Taeyong said, went out the other ear.

"F-feels so g-good. Want m-more..." Your greedy hands tugged at Taeyongs locks, but you weren't the only one being touchy. Taeyong was also kneading the plush skin of your ass, giving small taps before digging his nails in, making you whimper.

"Youre so needy baby, huh? So cute and needy for me." He slapped your ass playfully. The smirk on his face was evident that he loved every second of this.

"F-fuck yes, i-im so needy f-for you." You cry, "Youre t-the only one who c-can make me f-feel t-this good."

Of course he is. And Taeyong couldn't be any happier hearing that from you. It gave him energy to fuck harder while now holding your hips still like you were his personal toy. You struggled with keeping the hold on his hair. Your light tugs now harsh pulls but Taeyong didn't mind, in fact he liked how his head was forced to look at your beautiful face.

"Pretty girl." He leaned over the slightest bit and sucked on your necks sweet skin as you tried bouncing on his cock along with him thrusting up. "How much do you love this cock?" He questioned against your neck.

"S-so so much, Taeyong!" Your hips stutter and you know youre close but refuse to faulter, "Y-you h-have the best c-cock."

Taeyong moved back from your neck and grabbed your chin, "Are you ever going to let that guy touch you like that again after this?" You shook your head quickly. "Good girl."

"Im g-gonna cum." You say and without a single thought or word, your body shook as pleasure washed before you. Still, though Taeyong was on the edge of cumming himself, he kept the quick pace from before. But you were so sensitive from the orgasm, and even started screaming Taeyongs name. It wasn't pain, but pleasure, very sensitive pleasure that could easily make you cum a second time.

Seconds before you were about to feel another wave, Taeyong shot his seed deep into you, thrusting slowly as he came down from his high.

"D-did you mean what you said?" Taeyong breathes heavily and raises his brow in question, "About you loving me."

"Duh. I love you, idiot. I wouldn't say that if I didn't mean it." He rolled his eyes. That's the Taeyong you knew. "And what about you? Are you gonna say something or leave me hanging."

"I l-love you t-too." You say quickly. "I mean it."

Taeyong smiles a real smile before patting your head like a puppy and lifting you off his dick, "Lets get you cleaned up, baby, then we can talk about planning a date."

"A date??"

"Mhm," he smirked, "but not after a round two."

[fandomscombine]

Make The First Move

George Weasley x Reader

BG: The Yule Ball is only a month away, but the boy you were hoping to ask you out still hasn’t make a move. So you decided to take matters into your own hands.

(With guess appearances of Fred and Cedric)

This is an entry for @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ ’s 1k Followers Writing Challenge

Fluff prompt #1 “Do you find it sexy when girls make the first move, or should I wait for you to do it yourself?”

Fluff prompt #6 “If you want to make a move, today would be the perfect time to go for it.”

Trope #8 Friends to lovers

WC: 2623

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

y/n l/n is not a girly girl. You would categorize your fashion mentality to value comfort and functionality more than style.

Yes, during the weekends, you do tend to rock a graphic tee, jeans, soft sneakers and a outwear of choice, depending on what you’re feeling that day- be it a leather jacket, causal blazer to a denim jacket.

Hey in your defence, the Scottish Highlands where Hogwarts is located isn’t exactly the warmest place, besides students are only allowed to wear casual clothes during the weekends.

But every now and then you do wanna pop on a skirt or a dress, especially when its warm outside.

This upcoming event though…. you, like everyone else is oh so very much do want to feel like a star! To feel elegant! Luxurious!

That’s right the Yule Ball is only a month away. It is all that is in every single student’s mind ever since it was announced. Who would their date to the ball be? What outfit would they wear?

A number of students had already picked their respective dates and dresses. However, a remaining select few have not done either- Like yourself. Time is running out and the pool of available potential partners is decreasing day by day.

You didn’t mind going alone, as long as you have a great time with friends, going alone it isn’t really a big deal. But there is a small childlike wishful thinking that wants to have a fairy tale experience.

It also isn’t helpful that you had started to develop feelings for a certain redheaded twin over the summer. You swear that he too felt the dynamic changed between the two of you- who knew that 3 weeks tinkering with joke shop ideas and fixing out the burrow’s garage could be so impactful.

Though now coming to think of it, could you have just read the signs all wrong? The lingering stares, the tighter and longer hugs… Could this be signs that he planning of ways to murder you? Because if this were all romantic signs, wouldn’t he have had asked you out to the ball by now? It was no secret that you hadn’t said yes to anyone yet.

So, what’s taking so long? George Weasley is one of the most confident and popular guys on campus. Surely, he wouldn’t chicken out or get nervous to ask you.

Right??

Pushing boy trouble aside, you focus back on the dress catalogue your mum had sent you earlier today.

Flipping through the pages, 2 dresses caught you eye. One was a short tule the other had a long side leg slit.

You were in the process of bookmarking the page when you felt the catalogue being pulled out of your grasp.

‘Hey!’ You instinctively shouted to the culprit.

‘What’s this?’ George said, turning to the front cover. ‘“Madam Bella’s Evening Gowns, Autumn/Winter 1994”’

‘Give it back George!’ You tried to take it from him, but he quickly held it above his head.  

You stood on the bench in hopes to extend your reach. You could almost take hold-

‘Catch Freddie!’ Shouted George and threw it across the table.

Fred flipped to the dogeared pages. ‘Ahh..’ He was scanning through the choices you had circled. ‘Great choices indeed, my dear y/n!’

At first you weren’t sure if he was teasing you or being sincere.

That must had shown on your face as Fred continued, ‘I’m serious y/n/n!’ He placed his left hand on his heart and raise his right. ‘I swear! But you would look good in any dress anyway.’

You blushed at his compliment. ‘Thanks for the confidence boost Freddie.’

He hands back the catalogue to you, and as you took it, he whispered in your ear. ‘A little hint though,’ He shifts back a bit- now being face to face. ‘My vote is on the slit dress...’

Your brows scrunched together- was this boy seriously giving you fashion advice?

‘….I know George would like that..’ He steals a quick glance towards his twin, who has now turn bright red, both from being embarrassed and furious at him. ‘… I-I mean, it would match George’s dress robes.’

Fred sends you a final wink and bids you both goodbye.

You watch Fred exit the Great Hall, never letting him out of sight until he turns the corner. Which George to grateful for, as that had bought him time to calm his face down.

That was the one of the weirdest exchanges you’ve ever had yet, but you also couldn’t help but wonder if there was some truth to it.

George cleared his throat ‘So…y/n...Have you got a date yet?’

‘No why?’ You look over at him and you thought that you might give your hypothesis a try. Smirking hopefully, you asked ‘Are you gonna ask me?’

If you only knew what was going on inside of George’s head, the boy was panicking.

It was as if time slowed. Or it was because George’s thoughts are going a thousand miles a second.

Of course, he wanted to ask you to go with him!

But his brain was feeding him of insecurities. What if you didn’t want to go with him? What if you did say yes but only as a friend?

Plus, he didn’t want to ask you in front of all these people, thinking that you might be pressured by the crowd to agree.

No, he wanted to do it in a private, more intimate setting. Deserving of your beauty and grand place to confess his feelings.

He’d dream that in return you would say ‘Yes, I loved to go to the ball with you, George!’ and perhaps even say those 3 words he’s been dying to hear-more in the romantic nature than of friendship- and if he was lucky, maybe even share a kiss, that would be the best case scenario.

The worst-case scenario would be you rejecting him, possibly forever ruining the relationship with his best friend and having his heart broken- at least that case, nobody else would witness that.

‘Eh George?? Georgie?? Hello??’ You frantically wake a hand in front of him. ‘Earth to George Weasley!!!’

Great, when you finally had the courage to ask him to be your date-albeit indirectly- You broke him.

‘uuh.. I… I have to go...’ George looked like a deer caught in headlights

‘What?’

His eyes, dart upwards, thinking of an excuse. ‘Yes, I have to go… GO CLEAN MY SOCKS!’ Unfortunately, for him, in an uncharacteristic manner, he failed to think of a believable lie. ‘I’ll see you later!’

And with that he rushed out the Great Hall, leaving you once again gawking with a confused face at another Weasley twin.

~

You had your back against one of the rock formations near the Black lake, deciding which of the 2 dresses you would be wearing to the ball.

You were enjoying the last good sunny autumn days, taking in the sights of other students having a picnic on this beautiful Saturday. When suddenly a figure had landed right in front of you.

‘Ahhh!’ You had jumped in fright, causing you to slip a bit.

‘I got you, I got you!’ You felt arms holding you tight, preventing you from falling off the rocks.

Once you had regained your balance you check to see the perpetrator that had gave you a heart attack.

‘CEDRIC DIGGORY!!!!!!!! I TOLD YOU TO STOP DOING THAT!!’

The boy chuckled. ‘I know y/n/n, but I just couldn’t help it!’

You narrowed your eyes at him. Which made him laugh even more.

‘You know you love me.’ He gushed, bring you into a hug.

‘And that is my weakness’ Your reply being muffled by his shoulder. You Cedric were as close as brother and sister, having basically grew up together as both your families super close. Your father is best friends with his father and so are your mothers ever since their Hogwarts days. Therefore, naturally you and Cedric have a close bond too, being joined at the hip since birth-the only time part was the 3 months that you are older by.

It has been a while since you two had caught up with each other, him being busy with the Triwizard Tournament ofcourse.

‘Have you got any idea about the second task?’

‘Yeahh’ Cedric gulped.

You crocked a brow. Not buying his bullshit.

Cedric scratched the back of his neck. ‘Fine, I haven’t….’ Gazing towards the lake, he continued. ‘But I think it’s got something to do about the water.’

You take hold of his hand. ‘Hey, it’s alright. You’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out.’

‘Thanks y/n. I thought initially you wouldn’t be against me joining.’ He confessed.

‘You know I would support you no matter what. But don’t get me wrong, I’m worried for you Ced, always am. The tournament just upped it to level 1000! But I know that you have it in you to win this, to be the Triwizard Champion!’ You beamed. ‘Imagine that Ced, a Triwizard Champion in the family!’

‘It would be great, would it?’

‘Now to the matter at hand, The Yule Ball.’

‘What about it?’

‘Have you asked someone yet? You enquired.

‘Well there is this gorgeous lady that I’ve been meaning to ask…’ He hinted. ‘Though I am waiting for the right opportunity to ask her, you see everything has to be perfect!’

‘Awww, what an absolute sweetheart!’ You swooned.

Behind Cedric, you could have sworn that you saw someone in the trees. However, in your eagerness to know more of Cedric’s possible date, you brushed it off as the swaying of the branches and falling autumn leaves.

‘How about you? Has Mr. Beater asked you yet?’

You sighed. ‘Not exactly…’

Cedric leaned forward with hands on his chin, interested to hear more.

‘He asked if I had got a date yet, to which I said no. Then teased if he was gonna ask me.’ You recalled. ‘Then he froze. I guess I broke him, cause the next thing he said was that he’s got to go clean his socks.’

That had Cedric doubling over. ‘George really said that?!?!!?’ He had his arms wrapped around his stomach. ‘Clean his socks?!!??’

‘Yeah yeah yeah, laugh all you want Diggory. But you still hadn’t asked Cho out yet.’

‘Heyy! I told you I am waiting for the right moment!’

‘C’mon Ced, Sweet intentions aside. Cho has been declining offers to the ball, time is running out and I bet she is getting tired waiting for you to make a move, especially this close to the ball.’ You know how much Cedric likes Cho and hate to see him sad if and when Cho doesn’t get tired of waiting for him. ‘Sooner or later she might just say yes to some other guy, cause you’re talking so long!’

‘I’m sorry Cedric.’ You had realized that you projected your own frustrations on him. ‘I didn’t mean to go off on you like that.’

‘I know y/n, it’s alright really.’ He smiled, having come up with an idea ‘How about this, the next time you see George, YOU ask him out?’ He suggested.

‘ME?!?’

‘Yes.’ He insisted. ‘That why we would get a definite answer. And this time not more asking in an indirectly direct way. - We don’t want another system error in that head of his. Deal?’

‘Deal’

Picking up the discarded catalogue, he remarked. ‘Hmmm, I think that the long one would suit the occasion better, don’t you think? Being it a formal event and all.’

You agreed. ‘and you‘re not the first one to say that too.’ You muttered-more to yourself.

‘Huh?’

‘Nothing!’

‘So what color are you thinking? Blue or…’

‘Oh I got that all figured out! I was thinking that since the point of the Triwizard Tournament is school unity, I want the grown to be featuring my house colours.’

~

Fred had ran back to the Gryffindor dormitories as fast as he could. Glad to spot that his twin brother laying down on the bed.

As much as he enjoys teasing his siblings. He could no longer endure the obliviousness of his brother and y/n. He can no longer take the constant nonessential pining, especially when they obviously like each other.

Fred had been trying to get them together for the past month, but it seems that subtly pushing them to the right direction isn’t working. Which leaves him with no choice.

‘If you want to make a move, today would be the perfect time to go for it’ Stated Fred.

‘What?’

‘I can’t take it anymore Georgie!’ He grabs his brother by the collar. ‘I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE! I KNOW YOU LIKE Y/N AND BELIEVE ME GEOGRE WHEN I SAY THAT SHE LIKES YOU BACK OKAY.’ Fred pleads, shaking George with each word. ‘AND YOU HAVE GOT TO MAKE A MOVE TODAY! NOW! ASK HER TO THE BALL BEFORE CEDRIC DOES.’

George now dizzy, mumbled. ‘What? How?.....How do you know this?’

‘I saw them together at the lake and me being the best brother that you have decided to eavesdrop.’ Fred admitted. ‘And guess what, Cedric plans to ask a gorgeous lady- y/n- to the yule ball but is just finding the perfect opportunity.’

‘Therefore, brother dearest, it’s only a matter of time til that happens. And I your very supportive wingman urge you to freaking ask y/n out RIGHT NOW before it’s too late.’

That news that Cedric might ask y/n to the ball before he does, had put George back into his senses.

In record time, George had tidy up his clothes and fixed his hair. ‘Right.’ He turned to Fred who was looking smug leaning on the door frame. ‘How do I look?’

‘Smashing.’

‘Great, Now get out of the way you prick.’

~

George was busy thinking on how to ask y/n out to the yule ball and possibly even side in the chance to ask to go on a date with him, when he accidentally bumped into someone.

‘Wooooahh careful George!’

Damnit! he thought, out of all the people in this huge school, he just had to bump into the one person he doesn’t want to see.

‘Diggory.’ George growled.

‘You two alright?’ Said a voice beside them.

In his annoyance towards Cedric, George hadn’t noticed that you were close by. ‘Yeah, I’m good.’

‘Heyy’ Cedric interrupted. George had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. ‘I’ll see you later okay?’

Cedric kissed your forehead and whispered. ‘Good luck.’

This was is. George interpreted that sibling affection as you going out with Cedric to the ball.

Accepting defeat, he cleared his throat. ‘I guess imma go too-‘

‘Wait George!’ You held onto his arm to prevent him from leaving. ‘I wanted to ask you something.’

‘Go ahead.’ Replied George, curious onto what it is that is so important to ask him.

‘Do you find it sexy when girls make the first move, or should I wait for you to do it yourself?’

‘Hmm?’ George once again confused.

‘Gosh you are slow sometimes aren’t you.’ You chuckled. You take a step closer to him, coming up face to face. ‘George Weasley will you go to the ball with me?’

It took a second for George to believe what he was hearing. ‘YES!!’ He exclaimed then recomposed himself. ‘Yes, I would love to go to the ball with you.’

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he decided to take it one step further- cause what else has he got to lose? ‘Will you y/n l/n go on a date with me?’

You bring your arms to his neck, his him close. ‘I’d love nothing more.’ You grinned, pulling him into a long awaited kiss.

 Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1​

[drarrywords]

would you?

A soft, slow music drifted in the air and the light of the enchanted ceiling cascaded a silver, beautiful glow on the room. It was a faint luminesce of the night sky. The sight of the stars - of the constellations - was, in fact, a wonder to behold.

Harry Potter, however, wasn't focused on the music or the stars. Instead, he was rather focused on Draco Malfoy, who was, without a doubt, a sight to behold. He was wearing a beautiful, black, long, one shoulder, slit dress which accented him perfectly.

Draco's hair was curled at the ends, a few strands falling over the forehead and his eyes were captured with a black eyeliner, a powder dusted on the eyelids, archly curled lashes.

He couldn't resist.

"Pansy, can I borrow your best friend for a while?" He said when he walked over to the table, eyes fixed on Draco, who was turning the glass of wine in his hand, a small smirk on the mouth. "if you don't mind, of course."

"Of course you can, sweetheart,” Pansy said as she rose from her chair, placing a small kiss on Draco's cheek. "couldn't resist, could you, Potter?"

"Pansy –" Draco warned and directed a sharp glare towards her, which she returned with a similar intensity. "can you not –”

"No, she's right," He said while he fidgeted with the sleeve absent-mindedly, staring at the blond with earnest, expectant eyes, mouth curling into a small, proud smirk when a faint pink tint started to form on Draco's face. "I couldn't resist."

"Told you he fancied the idea of you in a black dress," Pansy winked, which caused Draco to direct yet another warning glare at her. "oh, why don't you stare fondly at Harry instead?”

"Pansy, I swear, if you don't leave right now, I'll not return your dress and of course our he fancies the idea – now, can you trouble Blaise or your best friend Ginevra instead?”

"You should continue to wear the dress when Harry Potter fancies you in it.”

“Oh, I’ll wear the dress,” Draco drawled while he sipped the wine while he peered into Harry’s eyes, which caused a wild stutter in his chest. “it’s a perfect fit, isn’t it?”

"Yes, of course, now I'll find Gin and irritate her for a while - fifteen minutes only, Potter."

"Yes, woman.”

Harry turned to Draco with a faint smile while he continued to ignore the flutter in his chest when the blond returned the smile and said, "You lost a bet, didn't you?"

"Well, yes, a bet with Pansy was a bad idea and – wait, how did you know I lost a bet?"

"Pansy, for starters, might've mentioned it once or twice when we were working on a case," He said with a sigh. "she was on about a black dress for four hours," Draco shifted slightly, curling his fingers around the soft fabric. "for what it's worth, it suits you."

“I figured you were rather pleased with the view when I caught you staring,” Draco said with a small snort. “you weren’t very subtle, Potter.”

He couldn’t be subtle when Draco Malfoy was wearing a beautiful black dress which he carried with grace and oh Godric, the light make-up, specifically the eyeliner. Perfection, indeed. “Yes, I know, Malfoy.”

“Do you, now?”

"Can we -" The brunet's voice cracked while Draco lifted a brow at him and a corner of his mouth curved upward while he placed the glass of wine on the table. "Circe fuck -"

"Graceful with your words as always, Potter." He was fine with words. Yet, right then, the words had evaporated out of his mind which, by the way, was Draco’s fault. “Of course, I have that effect on you.”

“No you don’t –” He cleared his throat, carding his fingers through the unruly hair and in an uncertain, voice, he whispered, "wait, no, right now, you do,” It elicited a laugh out of Draco “it’s a rare privilege.”

“Oh, of course.”

Harry was, however, certain he wouldn’t form proper sentences for the rest of the night if he was with Draco Malfoy. “Can we –” He inched closer to the blond. “can we dance?”

"Wait, you want to -" Draco's eyes widened and the pupils dilated, mouth caught open on the soft vowel sound. "you want to dance?" A moment. “right now, in front of the others?”

"I do," He curled his fingers at Draco with a faint smile. "would you want to?"

"Oh, of course I want to," He cast a contemptuous glance around and scowled at the cameras. "the prophet, however, is a royal pain in the arse and as much as I’d love to show off the dress or the perfect make-up, the eyeliner to be rather precise –” Draco softened. “I wouldn’t want you deal with the others.”

"Draco, I want to dance with you tonight," He said with a soft sigh. "the prophet can fuck itself, plus, it'll be factual news for once and I'd rather not focus on it when I can dance with you," A beat. "can we?"

He was convinced that the front page of the prophet would contain an absurd headline with a picture of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. It would cause a stir. "You're certain?"

"Yes, I want to dance with you and if the prophet wants to publish fifteen articles it can," He outstretched a hand towards the blond with a small smile, "come on."

"In that case," Draco placed a hand into his and interlaced their fingers while he rose from the chair, "I'd love to dance with you." He leaned in, mouth close the brunet's ear and whispered, "but if you step on my toes, I will light you on fire, Potter."

He chuckled with a slight shake to his head, leading Draco to the centre of the room, to a place he had chosen on purpose. A place underneath a particular constellation.

When your legs don't work like they used to before and I can't sweep you off of your feet

One song drifted to another familiar one. A song he was rather fond of. It was a song he would play on the road-trips with Draco. “Oh, it’s our favourite song.”

He twirled Draco around once, laced the fingers with Draco’s and placed the left hand on his waist in a firm, yet gentle grip. “It’s – yeah.”

‘And, darling, I will be loving you 'til we're 70 and, baby, my heart could still fall as hard at 23 and I'm thinking 'bout how’

Draco tilted his head to the ceiling, perhaps to offer a distraction, and a small, soft smile formed on his face. "On purpose?"

"We're dancing underneath the Draco constellation, of course it's on purpose."

"I'm flattered."

Harry peered into the startling grey eyes while he swirled to the music with Draco and felt a faint flutter in the chest, which wouldn’t cease. “You dance well.”

He drew Draco closer and for a few seconds, he couldn’t find the words while he swayed to the music in a slow pace. “Oh, it is?”

‘People fall in love in mysterious ways, maybe just the touch of a hand.’

Or maybe just a slow dance.

"Mhm, yes." Draco said with a short laugh while they turned to the rhythm. For once, it felt like there were less eyes on them. Like there was just one single tree in the forest.

Harry, however, had no desire to cast a glance around. Instead, he focused on Draco. On the silver eyes, the softest smile which graced his lips and the light of the stars above dancing on his pale skin.

He was enchanted, his body moving in along in tandem of it's own accord and it caused a warmth to surge through him. He felt content for once.

He felt a breath claw of his throat and the confidence returned in him while he dipped the blond to the floor in accordance with the music. He did not, however, raise him up. “Is it the right moment to mention how beautiful you look tonight?”

“It’s always the right moment to mention how beautiful I am, Potter.”

‘So honey now, take me into your loving arms and kiss me under the light of a thousand stars.’

“Godric, Draco,” He lifted the blond up with a small smile and drew him closer, "You're perfect," He raised a slightly trembling hand to Draco's face and his thumb across his cheekbone, "I could dance with you to our favourite song forever."

Draco leaned into the touch and closed his eyes for a brief second. "I wish you would."

He couldn't confess that he wanted to. Or that it wasn't for tonight. Yet, he couldn't find the words. Perhaps, it was purely platonic and he didn't want to screw it up. Not now.

He retracted his hand and continued to dance. The air which was comfortable a moment ago, turned taut.

Place your head on my beating heart, I'm thinking out loud, Maybe we found love right where we are

"Would you?"

"Would I, what?" Harry said with a small, confused frown while he slowed the pace.

"If I said I want you to dance with me forever or if I want you to kiss me under the light of the thousand ceiling stars," Draco whispered, in a soft, vulnerable voice, "would you?"

Perhaps, it was love that was stuck there in his throat, if the rambling passion he felt for him that he couldn't form words, "Draco I -"

The blond leaned closer and curled his fingers around Harry's neck, mouth an inch away from his. "Kiss me."

The brunet's gaze flickered to Draco's lips and back to his eyes. He wanted to. He had wanted to for years. Now, he had the chance - so, he placed a single finger under Draco's chin and the nervousness he was so prone to feeling washed out of him like a tidal wave, flooding from the tips of his fingers and crashing out of his mouth as it parted in the slightest way, almost invisible.

Harry enclosed his lips on Draco’s; soft yet immersive, gentle yet powerful all the same.

Harry paused, only to whisper softly against his mouth, "I would."

y'all, it's 2:30 AM and I'll pass tf out now.

Plus, I wrote it because "Anon" said I should stop writing, which I won't. Deal with it.

[maybemanyskeletonhats]

KISS

Hello, this is for the people who leave the nice comments and tags (yes I look at the reblogs, they really help my morale.) UNEDITED.

Genre: Fluff galore. Seriously.

Edit. There was more to Teldryns scenario. But tumblr ate it or character limit maybe?

Edit 2. It's fixed. Apparently it ate the tags I put on too.

Sotha Sil bares the burden of cruel certainty. And he can say it's something he's used too but it does weigh heavily on him. This is different when it comes to the tantalizing affections of his lover. That being said this mortal turned god knows what he wants. He wants them. It's the rampant thoughts that plague him about how to ask them for it that make him pause. He usually saved the affections for when the doors were closed and he knew no one would intrude yet here of all places his chest thumped and his lips tingled with anticipation. Why wouldn't they want it? A crimson gaze fell on the vestige who sat idle, quiet. Their fingers loose and relaxed around the spear he had given them. He wouldn't tell them where it came from, or rather who it belonged too. But as far as he was concerned. They wielded it as if it was apart of themselves. He hears them say his name, soft, worried. He must have be staring at them. Gods, he doesn't regret any time he spends looking at them. He doesn't respond even as he gently taps the side of their jaw, guiding their face to look at his. After a moment of them staring at one another, the vestige silently nodded. Seht connected their mouths together sweetly. So maybe he can't voice his wants the way other people can, but he did ask for it...in his own way, right?

Almalexia tried to give herself the idea that she never got to the point of desperation. That there was never any time when she felt that she needed to kiss the life out of her vestige. That nothing in Tamriel could make her so happy or so worried that carnal need became her priority. It was when the vestige returned to her, their face filled with exhaustion even as they sat still in the wagon. They are finally home, she thought breathlessly. Gone for three whole months that stretched on like a thousand years to her. They were a hero, a mortal, they saved Tamriel whether she liked it or not. If there was anyone in this whole world that deserved her affections, was it not them? Her feet touched the warm stone beneath her. Her golden eyed gaze widening as they slowly looked up. Eyes making contact with hers. The exhaustion that was filled to the brim in their eyes disappeared, and their slumped position turned into one of high alert. They jumped out, ignoring the distressed cries of the others with them. Ayem began to feel her feet move, unconsciously picking up speed till she was breaking into a small jog. All other thought was gone at the thought of them. It was them. She missed them. She missed them so much. As soon as they collided together, hands fervently gathering each other up. "Can I kiss you?" She asked simply, fingers tracing their lips. The vestige doesn't even wait, slamming their lips onto hers. Rule like a queen, kiss like a queen.

Vivec knows he wants to kiss them. The days after they've come to call themselves lovers drift in and out of his mind frequently. He knows he'll soon not have the luxury of claiming godhood for much longer, not that he's complaining. At least, with whatever time he has left, he wouldn't see them go before him. But for now, let's love like mortals do. He mused quietly to himself. In his lap the Nerevarine gave him an odd look but shook it off. He often said strange things that they would never quite understand. "It's humorous that as you arrive, your immortality comes, and mine drifts away like stars in the morning light." He begins, eyelashes tickling his cheeks. "I suppose that it matters not anymore. Should the Sharmat have succeed, none of us would be here. It was the right decision." He confessed. He didn't feel as conflicted about it, he surmises that that's what bothers him so. Time changes all, something Sil would have jumped to remind him of. He meets their gaze, their nose brushing against his jaw. 'I still love you, god or not. If it means anything.' They murmured, pressing a small kiss to his jaw. It was then he felt completely mortal, not a god, not a beloved figure. But someone normal, someone who grew old like others and got married, had children. "It does." His right hand came down to rub patterns onto their arm. "Am I allowed to kiss you..?" He questioned lazily, arm tightening around their middle. The Nerevarine's smokey gaze locked with his, their face growing warm. 'Like I'd say no, right?' Vehk merely hums, the arm wrapped around their middle sliding up to cuff the back of their neck. The god turned mortal pressed his lips to theirs in a rare moment of unyielding affection.

Voryn Dagoth's heart slams against his ribcage every time they enter a room. He was sure if it got any more louder they'd be able to hear it. Never had he ever so desperately wanted someone to himself. Voryn finds himself wringing his hands as he looks at them, anxiously chewing the inside of his cheek. 'Is something wrong?' They asked, head tilting. Voryn gives a hesitant smile, eyes shining with nervousness. "Yes, yes of course. I'm fine. Just thinking about something so hard it's abit...troubling." They gave him a look of sympathy, comfortingly grabbing his arm. This only made the Chimer man fidget. "I want to kiss you. Very much so." He blurts, instantly regretting it. They arch a brow at him, and nod slowly. 'Then kiss me?' Is all he needs to hear as he presses his lips to theirs in heated desperation.

Neloth leans back against his desk, arms crossed. His lips pulled into a careful line. It's not as though they were doing anything to bother him, they were just sitting there. Yet...he scowled. He was courting them, so it wasn't as if the want for some romance was alien. Neloth knew he could be hotheaded. But he loved them. The elf cursed underneath his breath. Why was it so hard to kiss someone? The Nerevarine's stops their idle humming and rolls their neck to look at him. Amusement shining in their eyes. "Oh you are insufferable aren't you?" Neloth breathes. They knew. Of course they knew. He forgets that they tease just as much as he does. He lets out a noise of exasperation, standing straight. Neloth walks over to them, leaning over their chair, his hands braced on the arm rests. The nerevarine sits still as a statue, grin still visible with the red ting across their face growing. His hand comes up to knot itself in their nape, pressing a surprsingly slow but deliberate kiss upon them. When he pulls back his face feels a lot warmer from where he started. "N'chow, there. It's of my system now at least."

Divayth Fyr usually has his hands occupied with some experiments or research. But feeling up the Nerevarine wasn't that bad right? Hands running up and down their sides he almost felt a need to keep them caged against his desk. If they didn't like it, they would have done something or said something much earlier right? Divayth's slightly stubbly chin runs across their cheek till he can press a kiss to their forehead. "Could always have you...if I wanted too right?" He breathes, nose brushing across theirs in a rare display of affection. His much larger hands come up to separate the small hands that had latched into his shirt twenty or so minutes before. "Want you...want to kiss you. You make me feel things." He whispered helplessly against their skin. Divayth barely hears the quiet consent before he's giving them a slow, passionate kiss.

Mannimarco has rare moments where he feels... possessive. But in a soft, non threatening way. His nose tenderly brushes the crown of their hair, his fingers kneading into their waist. Grip firm and assuring. Maybe he was in a good mood, he mused to himself. Didn't particularly feel that strong, bordering on vicious need to separate them from every man they interacted with. "Don't want you talking to peasants." He huffs, tightening his hold. He hears them laugh and his face burns as he rolls his eyes. Perhaps he should just marry that at that point, make them the King/Queen they ought to be at this point. What was the chances he could make them see his way about things then?

Cold fingers run on their side, feeling the warm body pressed to his cower away from the sensation. He grins mockingly. "Will I have to beg you for affection? Or am I going to have to do it myself?" The Vestige merely grins, the twinkle in the eyes he grew to knew so well the last few months. He scoffs, though his lips threaten to rise upward into a smile. His fingers dance up to nest into their nape, his other coming to tilt their chin up. "Mine.." He says with an uncharacteristic softness in his voice. "Or at least, I'm hoping you are..." His eyes betray him showing the vulnerability inside, in a rare show of open love, Mannimarco presses a firm but gentle kiss onto his Vestige.

Teldryn Sero doesn't cuddle often. Not when they're awake of course. He doesn't like to appear clingy, he's already glued to their side as is. The only spellsword from around Solstheim behind the legendary Dragonborn of Tamriel. The only one of their kind. It's not as though he wasn't getting glory though..he thought, his fingers drifting down the flat of their back. The hammock they've been lying in swaying gently with the breeze. "Your thoughts are too loud." They murmur against his collarbone. Teldryn feels a laugh bubble in his chest. Sometimes, just sometimes they could be more observant. "I'm a spellsword, subtly is not in my arsenal." His lips quirk upward as he fondly rubs his chin across their hair. "Too bad..." They start, fingers tracing patterns on his ribs. "About time you've learned another skil other then making wise remarks." They finish as he feels them smile playfully against him. Teldryn snorts in amusement, eyes fluttering closed. "All apart of the package you bought..." He hears a small 'tch' in response. "Better have a receipt." They fireback, slapping his arm. "No refunds, Sera." This time he grins, angling his face down so he can bring them into a heated kiss.

~°~°~°~°~

Translations:

N'chow is essentially the dunmer way of saying 'Damn'

[sannieboy]

the kinds of kisses i think the boyz would like most

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i know i know i know, i never update. especially with writing works. but, i suddenly got inspired bc thrill ride and they all look phenomenal, and decided to write about my boyz and what sort of kisses they would like. so, i hope you enjoy my blatantly obvious touch-starved self and her writing :D

if you do end up enjoying this, maybe consider checking out my masterlist for similarly sappy pieces of writing

_______________________________

（＾＿＾）☆

sangyeon: a kiss given after being swept off of your feet

sangyeon gives the big sweetheart vibes. he’s a romantic, he’s strong, he’s gonna sweep you off of your feet. his favourite part about kissing you as he’s holding you from falling is the sweet noise of surprise that escapes your lips before he captures them in his own, followed by the way you can’t help but smile into his kiss. there’s just something so sweet and homey about sangyeon. sangyeon feels like dancing with your significant other in the lounge to your favourite songs, stepping on each others feet in the process, but there is nothing but smiles and eyes filled with adoration. sangyeon wants to do that with you; he wants to twirl you around the house and dip you in his arms, looking at you with warmth in his eyes before pressing his lips so sweetly against yours, sharing with you all of the love his being is capable of producing.

~

jacob: a kiss pressed to the crown of your head

anything relating to jacob bae instantly entails warmth and comfort; and i feel that a loving kiss pressed to the crown of your head conveys exactly that. these sorts of kisses often happen as you stand, swaying back and forth embraced in each other’s arms. he’ll kiss the crown of your head softly and slowly, lips gentle and full of love. jacob loves giving these kisses to you, mostly because he adores being the recipient of them. he finds that a kiss to the top of his head manages to fill his whole being with a sense of home and surety, so he gives them to you in hopes that they give you the same, tingly feeling (they do). so please, give this man a kiss on the top of his head, it’ll make his whole day.

~

younghoon: kisses shared in a stairwell, creating an artificial height equality

when i think of younghoon, i think of his playfulness, his soft and gentle nature, and how much of a hopeless romantic he is. younghoon is a cheesy man; he’ll never admit to it though. but you can see it in the way that his ears will turn a rosy red whenever you give him a kiss as you stand on the stairs above him, allowing you to hold his face and kiss him from above. younghoon relishes in the way it feels to look up at your face instead of down, and how nice it feels when you hold his face so tenderly in your hands. moments like these make younghoon feel as if he’s been cast in a sappy romcom, one that he would pretend to cringe at but would secretly make his sweet heart flutter. kisses like these make him glad that you’ll indulge him in the cheesy little moments he so deeply adores. kissing you like this makes him fall in love with you all over again.

~

hyunjae: kisses shared whilst you’re sitting on his lap

hyunjae lives for having you perched upon his lap, and will take absolutely any opportunity to have you there. watching a movie together? pillows litter the other couches, and he insists that you MusT sit on his lap because there’s NO room anywhere else. walking past him as he’s sitting? you’re always yanked down onto his lap. so it makes sense that his favourite kisses would happen in his favourite spot to have you. hyunjae loves having your body weight and warmth on him, he likes feeling how real you are, and how you are really his to embrace and love. these kisses can range from needy and rough, to slow and sanguine; more often the latter. hyunjae is a romantic lover, although he tends to keep that part of himself hidden. but it’s not hard to tell that he is one from the way he kisses you when you’re settled on his thighs :D

~

juyeon: pulling away from a kiss, whispering confessions of love against your lips, before reconnecting them

juyeon is spontaneous. sometimes, he is a quiet, more reserved lover. whereas other days, he wants to do nothing but smother you with love and affection. whenever he’s smiley and happy and just full of love for you, he likes to kiss you softly yet deeply, lips moulding against yours as he sways back and forth. he tends to pull away early, enjoying the way you chase after his lips, and rest his forehead against your own, whisper a sweet confession of love before reconnecting your lips. juyeon likes feeling the way your lips curve upwards as you kiss, and the way you push yourself further into his being. juyeon loves that even though he doesn’t show you affection all of the time, that though these kisses, he can make sure you know just how hard he has fallen for you, and that sometimes, you’ll do the same to him.

~

kevin: small, quick kisses littered across your face

kevin moon is a playful man, and that is present in both the way he loves his friends and family, and in the way that he loves you. even though he’s constantly joking around and making everyone around him light up with laughter, he still wants to make sure you know how much you mean to him. smothering you in quick, little pecks makes kevin feel as if he’s covering every part of you with his love. when you’re both snuggling in bed and he starts pressing kisses all across your face, you giggle at the ticklish nature of his lips’ feathery touch; but you can feel flowers of warmth blooming wherever his kisses land, his warm, passionate love for you seeping from his lips onto your skin.

~

chanhee: slow, draw out kisses in which neither of you want to let go

chanhee is a man of quiet passion. he has a lot of emotions, but the way in which he shows them is more discreet. now don’t get me wrong, chanhee loves a passionate, steamy make out session, hands in hair and bodies pressed close, but he prefers to show his love through a different sort of kiss. chanhee adores kissing you whilst holding you close to him, his arms hanging daintily around your waist, bodies pressed tenderly against one another. like this, he’ll press his lips against yours softly, slowly, yet wholly. with kisses like this, where your lips move in tandem languidly, chanhee feels as if he’s showing you the utmost sincere affection and love he has for you, and that he feels yours for him too. kisses like these make chanhee feel so warm and loved, taking immense pleasure of the feeling of your fingers toying with the hair that rests at the nape of his neck whilst his hands wander the expanse of you back, your waist, and sometimes coming up to cup your jaw as he kisses you with his whole being.

~

changmin: a small, hesitant kiss, proceeded immediately by a passionate, hungry kiss

ji changmin is a cheeky man; a trickster, if you will. he’s a very playful and lighthearted person, these personality traits translating into his relationship with you. whenever he goes to kiss you, he’ll hold your chin softly before sweetly pressing his lips against yours, nothing but the warm feeling of lips against lips. these kisses are quick and leave you wanting more, he knows this because of the way you chase after his lips once he’s pulled away. he’ll giggle at your desperation before holding your face more securely and truly connecting your lips together; full of ardour that his innocent kisses simply lack. changmin likes to catch you off guard, whether that’s by giving you a spook or by surprising you with a passionate kiss proceeding a soft and airy kiss. he revels in the way that you take a second to process what’s happening before you reciprocate his affection. changmin loves the reactions you make when you’re caught by surprise. he thinks that you are devastatingly cute, and finds that he doesn’t want to stop kissing you.

~

haknyeon: morning kisses before either of you have opened your eyes

haknyeon treasures the moments of solitude he spends with you, the fragments of time in which he feels as if there is no one in the world but you, him, and the feeling of the sun streaming through the window. waking up in bed next to you is one of these times. haknyeon loves to love all of the parts of you that you feel insecure about, such as the drool-stained face, tousled bed hair and groggy expression that you wear just upon waking up. the way he kisses you groggily when you’re both half asleep is filled with such raw, unadulterated affection and hearth-like tenderness; the feeling of your lips and his melding together under the eyes of the rising sun fills you with a tingly warmth, kisses sharing unspoken confessions of love.

~

sunwoo: tracing your lips with his finger before tilting your chin up for a kiss

sunwoo, much like a few of the other members, is a hidden romantic. sometimes he acts as if he doesn’t like being showered with affection; typically in the physical sense, but he truly loves the feeling of being loved up by you. he loves giving you these kinds of kisses, because they usually only happen in a more intimate, romantic setting where the two of you are alone. sunwoo loves tracing his finger around your lips, adoring the soft warmth of them. he hopes that you can feel his love for you in the tenderness of his thumb brushing against your bottom lip, and in the way he looks at you before he connects your lips; eyes becoming doe-like with affection. these kisses are so so special to sweet sunwoo, and he hopes that you hold them as close to your heart as he does :)

~

eric: hugging you close before passionately kissing you on the lips

eric is a man filled with passion that just bursts at the seams of his being, and this passion transfers over to the way he loves you. eric always wants to show you the fierce love he holds for you, whether that be through his words, or through his actions. he often uses these types of kisses as a greeting and a goodbye to you. it’ll happen when eric stumbles through the door, having just returned from practise. he finds you, wherever you are, pulls you into a tight hug that lets you feel his heartbeat against your own body, chins buried in each others neck. he’ll then pull back, just a smidge, and smash his lips onto yours, communicating the passionate adoration he holds for you through a sweet kiss.

__________________________________________

i’m sad and lonely :D

[cognacdelights]

teenage fever

my outer banks masterlist

add yourself to my taglist

summary: with the aid of one too many alcoholic drinks, two life-long best friends confess their feelings for one another without using any words at all as the after party dwindles down around them. 

warnings: graphic sexual content. unprotected sex.

The air was thick with a nebula of nicotine and the sweet, yet musty, essence of marijuana as the laidback tempo of the R&B playlist echoed throughout the old, decrepit fishing shack. A legion of half-consumed beer bottles cluttered the kitchen countertops - standing tall beside the few crumpled, empty beer cans. Cigarette butts filled the several ash trays littered around the confined space, creating an unsightly mountain of burnt-out roll-ups that spilled over onto the stained, wooden surfaces. The small, anchor-themed clock which hung proudly on the wall beside the doorway read 4:13 - the incessant ticking drowned out by the calming bass of the R&B music. What had once been a raging, wild house party that had seen almost every troublesome teenager of The Cut had dwindled down into a relaxed, mellow affair, with only a few roisterous individuals remaining. 

Her crimson, platform heels lay discarded on the slate tiles just an arms-length away as her trim, scantily clad body entangled itself with his - her arms loosely coiled around the back of his neck. His jean-clad knee pressed between her sun-soaked thighs, her voluptuous hips moving in cadence with the slowed, sultry tempo of the music as they grinded sensually against his. Her movements were alluringly languid as he placed his bear-like palm against the small of her back, his touch searing her skin through the thin material of her sable, figure-hugging dress. Compelled further into his warm, enticing embrace by the electrifying pulses of energy surging through her petite, intoxicated silhouette, she eliminated the remaining gap between their two synchronised bodies. 

As she peered upwards through her dark, mascara-coated lashes, her hazy, inebriated eyes met with his. The taste of his spirit-laced breath consumed her as their faces hovered just a mere millimetres apart - both hesitant to invade no man’s land; both tentative in escalating their life-long friendship. It was the Don Julio which ultimately coerced the two longing, tipsy teens to take the plunge into the unknown; their soft lips molded together in a leisurely, timid manoeuvre, the ever-lasting agave flavour of the citrus liquor spurring them on in their ardent embrace. Her naturally long lashes grazed against the blush-tinted skin of his cheeks as her eyes fluttered closed - allowing herself to revel in the fervent passion radiating between them. 

Her scarlet-painted fingertips fiddled with the dishevelled ends of his tousled, sandy locks, his own paw-like palms settling on the entrancing, bodacious curves of her hips. Gently, he applied pressure - pushing her heated, panty-covered core against him as she continued to sensually sway to the music. The friction he had created between them was intensely euphoric, but not quite enough to satisfy the zealous yearning which had erupted in the depths of his stomach. Every inch of his being longed for more - more of every intoxicating sensation he could elicit; his hands hankered for the warmth of her exposed skin against his and his lips thirsted for the exhilarating concoction of flavours that she held.

Eventually, he tore his chapped, rose-tinted lips from hers, peppering several tender, affectionate kisses along her pronounced jawline as his lascivious tongue dared to explore more. His lustful lips found shelter in the crook of her neck - placing delicate, loving kisses in the crevices. Relishing in the sweet, floral aroma of her perfume, he began to gently suck on the golden tones of her complexion. She cocked her head to the side ever so slightly, allowing him full, unrestricted access as his pointed teeth grazed lightly over the wet patch of skin. He placed a handful of fragile, rapture-filled kisses over the sensitive area, satisfied by the possessive imprint he had left, before retreating back to the comfort of her lipstick-coated lips; it was almost as if his lips were in a state of withdrawal.

His thin, sinful lips landed upon hers once again, but this time it was different. His tongue valiantly forced its way into her unsuspecting mouth in an act of absolute dominance, yet the motion was devoid of all aggression - more abundant in a deep-rooted craving for intimacy. She contentedly welcomed his exploring tongue with her own, tauntingly caressing it as their lips continued to interlock together in a melodious synchronisation. The heat of his clammy, calloused palm sent an invigorating rush of adrenaline through her dainty, drunken frame as it came to rest against her upper thigh. With his audacious fingers breaching the thin, cotton boundaries of her bodycon dress, he squeezed the delicate skin.

A symphony of hoots and whistles erupted from the distance of the open, arched doorway - as their beloved, closest friends observed their erotic display of affection. The girlish, innocent giggles of Sarah Cameron and Kiara Carrera sounded above the slow, sensuous pounding of the bassline, as their four friends proceeded to throw what she could only assume were condoms at the entranced pair. As the cold, foil wrappers hit against her arched back, she nonchalantly retrieved an arm from behind his neck, gesturing her disapproval of their actions with a stern, rigid flash of her middle finger; they were far too embroiled in one another’s wistful, lovelorn tenderness to acknowledge their friends’ teasing behaviour.

Half in attempt to shield her petite, hour-glass silhouette from the barrage of condoms and half out of pure, carnal desire to escalate their amorous, salacious encounter, the shaggy-haired blonde maneuvered their entangled bodies around - his evident erection pressing comfortably against the sensitive, sun-drenched skin of her thigh. As her scorching, bare skin fell against the cool wood of the kitchen cabinets, a soft gasp surpassed her swollen, plump lips. Delicately, his dauntless hands hooked themselves beneath the shapely curves of her ass, pushing her hypnotic hips upwards onto the beer-stained countertop - prompting the hasty departure of their on-looking friends.

His wandering fingertips slinked towards the boundaries of her soaking heat, encroaching on the black, patterned lace of her thong. Parting their magnetised lips to suck in an unsteady breath of air, she felt his experienced thumb slip beneath the damp material and trace pleasureful figures of eight against her clit. Heat radiated from her sodden core as she instinctively threw her head back at the electrifying sensation. His lips once again found the sensitive skin of her neck, sprinkling adoration-filled kisses along the glistening highlight of her collarbone.

With a breathy moan escaping her velvet lips, she pushed her eager hips forward. A haughty, satisfied smirk etched itself into the foundations of his chiselled features at her pleading movements, attentively sliding his two poised fingers across the length of her folds - lathering them on her sweet nectar before slowly thrusting them into her core. Her desperate, ruby-painted fingertips reached for the buckle of his belt, fumbling slightly as they eased the worn leather free of the metal clasp. Effortlessly popping the button of his light-wash, denim jeans, she tugged down the sticking zipper.

Her gentle, delicate hands were warm against the sensitive skin of his hardened length as they found their way beneath the waistband of his boxers. An aroused, throaty groan bypassed his tequila-stained lips as his stubby, ring-clad fingers caressed the acute nerves of her core - the exhilarating friction of her soft, sultry palm working along his shaft smothering him. Short, staggered breaths and elated whines consumed the small, homely kitchen as they continued to tender to the other’s desirous yearns. Endearment clouded his ravenous, cerulean eyes as they bore directly and intently into hers - a content, adoring smile tugging at the corners of his thin, alcohol-soaked lips as he indulged in the affinity of their exchange.

Retreating from the shelter of her drenched heat, he brought his juice-soaked fingers to his lips - his mischievous tongue lapping up every stray droplet of her honey-like essence. A subconscious whimper vibrated from the depths of her throat, her hypersensitive nerves neglected by the sudden loss of contact, craving his expert touch once more. His covetous thumbs arched beneath the meagre string of her lace-detailed thong, guiding the damp material down her smooth, tanned thighs. As the damp, patterned fabric reached her dainty ankles, the bewitched blonde crumpled her panties in his calloused palm - carelessly stuffing them into the back pocket of his skinny-fit jeans.

Pushing the tight waistband of his boxers down, he released his stiff, poised dick and positioned himself at her sodden entrance. Slowly, sensually, he pushed himself into her heat. Her lipstick-coated lips entrapped his once again as they echoed an unholy harmony of moans and groans between them, his pleasureful movements remaining languid and gentle. Devilishly, the salacious girl captured his swollen, chapped bottom lip between her teeth, tugging gently at the sensitive skin, cautious not to draw blood. A primal grumble crawled out from the deep, dark depths of his throat as he reconnected their tequila-laced lips for what seemed to be the hundredth time that night.

As the seductive, soulful music faded from one song to the next, he skilfully adjusted the pace of his lascivious movements to the laid-back tempo of the familiar chorus. Her ardent hips followed suit - rocking in a heavenly, sultry cadence with his. The off-white cotton of his t-shirt wrinkled under her tight, careless grip, her pointed, vermillion-painted nails digging themselves into his clothed shoulders. Arching her back and smoothly thrusting her voluptuous hips forward in harmony with his, his pulsing length filled her aching core to capacity - eliciting an ungodly, sensuous whine from her luscious, spirit-laced lips.

His slow, seductive movements had taken her by surprise. The naturally radiant, sun-kissed girl had always expected the muscular, sandy-haired boy to be a rampant, raunchy lover; from the kink-fuelled, salacious scandals with worse-for-wear tourists that he often reminisced on, to the smutty, unchaste fantasies - in which he took the starring role - that frequently plagued her wicked brain, she had come to the affirmation that her troublesome, unruly life-long best friend was an untameable animal in the bedroom. However, the sumptuous, indulgent moment she had found herself living in was quite the contrast to her initial opinions of the stiff-jawed blonde. This was an intimate, passionate, emotional affair - and he meant every second of it; he meant every sensual touch, every lascivious kiss, every amorous thrust.

Their leisurely, romantic pace that heeded to the rhythm of the mellow R&B playlist meant that their attentive, enamoured embrace had continued for a prolonged period of time - much to the dismay of their friends. As the steamy, classic naughties ballad dissipated into the early hours of the mid-summer morn, a slightly more up-tempo, modern beat resounded through the old fish shack. Once again, he adjusted his affectionate thrusts, speeding up ever so slightly. Easing into his new found pace, the athletically-built boy with the tousled, shaggy, blonde hair felt his climax nearing. His calloused fingertips gripped on to the curvatures of her concave waistline out of instinct - forcing back the tidal wave of ecstasy he was so desperate to let overwhelm him, refusing to concede before her.

It was merely several, indulgent thrusts later that the sensitive walls of her sodden core clenched around his painfully hard length, the tell-tale, familiar knot of her high tightening in the pit of her stomach. As she forcefully rolled her bodacious hips against his, she began to unravel around his bulging span. Her manicured, ballerina-shaped fingertips gripped firmly onto the varnished pine of the countertop, her spine arching almost unnaturally as her head threw itself backwards in a subconscious reaction to the immense pleasure which surged through her alcohol-laced veins. A harmonious medley of curse words, enraptured whimpers and sensuous moans surpassed her heavenly, sumptuous lips.

As the petite, hazy-eyed girl continued to ride out her euphoric apex, the searing skin of her bare hips meeting with his own forced him to cave in. His valiant efforts to suppress his intense, building orgasm had been thwarted by the unholy slurs which rolled so effortlessly off her salacious tongue - feeling himself erupt inside her sensual heat. Shortening his cadenced, rhythmic thrusts, he dared not pull his aching length completely out. Her acute, hypersensitive nerves could feel his pleasureful load filling her core - the heightened pace of his hips dwindling into nothing as he finished.

Eventually, he pulled his juice-drenched length from the comforting warmth of her heat, tucking himself back into the fabric constraints of his boxers. An adoring, content smile contorted her doll-like features as her clouded doe eyes peered upwards through her thick, mascara-coated lashes into his admiring, indigo orbs. She could feel the blended concoction of their endearing embrace seeping from her throbbing, saturated folds - onto the bare, exposed skin of her thighs - but she didn’t care. She simply placed her swollen, plump lips on his once more, enrapturing the breathless, teal-eyed boy in yet another tender, passionate kiss, her delicate palms resting themselves on the broads of his defined, burly shoulders.

[aquaticstyles]

from the dining table

I know I said I was posting at 7, but I finished earlier than expected :) 5k inspired by the song we all know and love, From the Dining Table. Hope you all enjoy reading! I really liked how this one turned out. As always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated!!!

“Whatcha doin' out here by yourself?"

You nearly jump out of your skin and send the wine sloshing in your glass splashing onto the freshly cut grass at the sound of his voice.

You hoped—you prayed that you could get through the night without running into him. You were here to celebrate your good friend and her new husband, not re-open old scars. Yet here he is, right in front of you, dressed to the nines in all black, tailored perfectly to fit his broad shoulders and slim waist, chestnut locks styled haphazardly and intentionally all at once, new, foreign stubble on his upper lip and jaw making him that much more ruggedly handsome, chest hair peeking through the opened buttons of his shirt, and a white rose clipped to the lapel of his jacket.

He looks good. He looks really good, and you would like to die.

You would very much like to bury yourself in a hole.

He seems so familiar, traces of an old lover lost in the gold flecks of his eyes, but you don't know him, at least not anymore. He's a stranger now, an array of old photographs and journal clippings scattered throughout your memory. He went from being your person, to a person--from being the one person you could talk to for hours upon hours tangled in the sheets, the moonlight from the open curtains dancing upon miles and miles of bare skin, without ever growing tired, to the one person that sucks every word out of you, leaving you speechless, an awkward shell of the confident woman you used to be around him.

You would have followed him anywhere, blind, heart thumping beneath your chest, relying solely on his palm in yours to guide you through the dark—to the ends of the earth, tiptoes over the edge, ready and willing to plummet thousands of feet downward.

The breeze that floats through the air and brushes against your arm adds more goosebumps to the ones already present due to the man next to you. Everything around you is calm—the ocean to your right, waves slowly reeling in and releasing back against the shoreline, the sun setting in the horizon, creating warm hues of tangerine and pomegranate in the sky and sparkling on the endless canvas of blue below, the palm trees rustling gently, the soft chatter of guests behind you in the distance. Outside, there's a whirlwind of serenity, but inside, there's a hurricane crashing against your rib cage.

"Oh, I, um, had a phone call," you confess. You barely got the day off to come to the wedding, and your phone has been buzzing nonstop with work emails, texts, and voicemails.

Yes, you had to take a phone call, but you also needed a minute. A minute for yourself. A minute to reflect, on both past and future.

A minute to inhale--his palm in yours, your cheek pressed against his chest, his temple resting on top of your head, swaying slowly in the kitchen, Frank Sinatra's 'One For My Baby' echoing softly, pulling you closer to him if possible, hushed whispers of "I love you" from two hearts beating in unison.

A minute to exhale--love letters, broken promises, his (your) favorite t-shirt, borrowed books, his handwriting still in the margins, tokens of his thoughts, postcards, one for each new city he inhabited while he way away from you for months on end, pearls, a Frank Sinatra vinyl, your ring stretched and bent from his pinky, anything and everything that was part of him, tucked away in a cardboard box in your attic, collecting dust.

Weddings are supposed to be joyous; they're supposed to remind you of just how amazing life can be, particularly when it's spent with someone you love, but you can't help but feel lonelier than ever.

This is what you wanted.

This is what you wanted with him.

"Still always working," sparkles dance in those eyes of his, morphing every coherent thought in your head to mush. It's criminal how relaxed he is. It's almost as if you're old friends catching up, as if all of the history between the two of you simply no longer exists. He's smirking at you, making your insides turn to jelly and your brain slosh around in your skull. He seems entirely unfazed as he strolls closer to you, the whiskey in his glass barely moving from how slow he progresses. He's honey, the golden sugar dripping lazily from a swarming hive.

You look good. You look really good. And he notices.

His eyes trail from the very tip top of your head, to your cherry red toenails, and you immediately shrink in on yourself. He studies your appearance, long locks of hair he used to comb his fingers through flowing in the slight breeze and cascading down your back, thin straps holding up the loose, silky fabric of your sundress, heart-shaped lips glistening, coated in your favorite lip gloss (He thinks the longer he stares, the more he can taste them again—the more he can feel the sticky substance transferred on his own lips, remnants of your sparkles imprinted on him), freckled cheeks paired with a rosy nose, results from a sunburn (You're tanner than he last saw you. Has your skin always been this golden?), a new tattoo on your inner right forearm, a compass, so minute that one would have to be staring to notice (Which he was, and he did).

Then he sees it.

That all-too-familiar gold band wrapped around your right middle finger, catching the light reflecting from the white wine in your glass.

The ring he gave you.

The one he saw in Japan and had to buy because it had you written all over it. The one he left on his pillow in your shared bed, waiting for you once you had successfully stretched and rubbed the sleep from your eyes while he was off to an early studio session. The one he had engraved, "H.S." on the inside of, a little piece of him always with you. The last token of him you couldn't bring yourself to rid of, a time capsule from a past love.

As soon as you realize he's spotted it, your grip on the glass in your hand tightens. Harry's eyes immediately snap back to yours—after all this time, you still wore the ring. Why were you still wearing the ring?

In a desperate attempt to distract Harry from asking that question you knew was swimming around in his mind, you clear your throat, "Still always working," you force a tight-lipped smile and rock on your heels, "that and you know I'm no good at dancing." You nod your head to the crowded dance floor alive with couples drunk off the mini bar behind the two of you.

Harry's hard expression softens, accompanied by a dimple as memories of your horrible dancing come flooding back. He releases a warm chuckle, one you haven't heard in ages that echoes in your eardrums longer than you would have liked, "Can't argue with that, 'member you almost broke m'big toe a couple times." His eyes never leave yours as he takes a sip from his glass, the amber liquid gliding down his throat with a faint burn.

The space between the two of you progressively decreases as he moves closer and closer, until suddenly his shoulder is only a couple inches away, daring to brush against yours. You're both facing the ocean now, backs towards the roaring crowd. You close your eyes, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore easing the anxiety coasting through your veins. You inhale slowly, enjoying the feeling of the wind brushing against your cheekbones, cooling off the nervous heat Harry has caused. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Harry turns his head and watches you with your eyes fluttered closed, admiring your side profile up close with no shame, because how could he not? He hasn't seen you in person for over a year—it's like he's seeing you for the first time again. He fights the urge to tuck a stay piece of hair behind your hair, something he would have done without thinking if things hadn't gone completely downhill. He wants to memorize how you look in this moment, the exact position of every eyelash, the exact angle of the slope of your nose, just in case he has to go another 12 months without seeing you again. But boy, he wants to see you again. And again.

You keep your eyes closed, your lips turning upwards in a faint smirk, "I saw you at Target the other day," you open your eyes and turn to look at Harry, only to find him already fully fixated on you. Has he been staring at you this whole time? "Rolling stone? That's big."

He grins at your flustered look of shock; he was caught, but he's not embarrassed at all, not trying in the slightest to hide how much you have captivated his attention, "Uh yeah," Jesus, your eyes are beautiful. Your eyes didn't look this beautiful when you were together. Did you do something to your eyes? No, that's impossible. Is that a new piercing in your ear? You hate needles. Did you pierce it yourself? What else has changed about you? Harry, focus. What did you say again? Oh, yeah, Rolling Stone. "Doesn't do well for my narcissism though."

"Hmm... I can imagine," you take a sip of wine, returning your eyes back to the horizon, this time focusing on a pack of seagulls gliding through orange creamsicle skies. You can't stare into his eyes for too long without thinking of everything, the good, the bad, the ugly. Each time you look into his eyes, it's like reliving every conversation you ever had. His words, a gallon of feathers poured on top of you, soft tufts brushing against your skin. His words, a gallon of daggers poured on top of you, sharp metal piercing your skin.

Silence overwhelms the two of you—filling the void of words needed and wanted to be said.

Harry clears his throat and finally looks in front of him to the breathtaking sunset melting into the skyline, almost as breathtaking as you. Taking a big gulp of his whiskey, he prepares himself for the words about to spill from his mouth. He has to ask, because you're here, in person, live in stereo, and when will he have an opportunity like this again? This question has been swimming in his brain for months; it's been eating him alive, the unknown mystery of the situation. He's dying to know if you've heard that one song.

"Have yeh listened to the album?"

He chose the absolute worst time to ask this question, right when you were taking a sip from your glass. You nearly choke on the liquid sliding down your throat, erupting into a coughing fit as soon as you get a breath of air. Harry's eyes widen, immediately angling his body towards yours, a look of alarm flashing across his features. You hunch over, sending cough after cough into your free hand. A warm palm rests on your back between your shoulder blades, causing goosebumps to rise, and as soon as he's about to ask if you're okay, you wave your hand, brushing off your near-death experience. You cough one last time, your raspy voice hesitantly admitting, "Um yes, I have."

Harry furrows his eyebrows, analyzing your face to make sure you're actually okay and before he can stop it from happening, he's rubbing small circles into your back. He hovers his body slightly over yours as you cough one last time into your elbow. You mouth "I'm good" inaudibly and send him a thumbs up. You finally straighten back up, brushing your hair out of your face and blinking slowly a couple times, God, that was embarrassing, way to keep it cool.

When your posture returns to its natural state, and his palm on your back is no longer appropriate, Harry removes his hand and pushes it into his pocket. He silently curses himself for not grabbing intertwining your fingers together and squeezing your palm once—that was something he would always do when you were together. It was his thing. When you would be out shopping and the paps would show up inconveniently out of nowhere, he would grab your hand and squeeze it once, letting you know that he's here and he's sorry, before dropping it. When you would be eating dinner at your parents, laughing about who knows what, his knee brushing yours underneath the table, he would grab your hand and squeeze it once, letting you know that he's here and he loves you, before dropping it.

Silence returns again and you're both back to your original positions overlooking the sea. Bass thumping, "cheers!", clinking, birds chirping, leaves rustling, waves crashing, heavy breathing, congratulations, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!", his rings tapping against his glass, the soles of your shoes crunching the grass, heart pounding.

The loudest silence breaks, "Figured one day you'd at least g'me a call back."

If you weren't sure if that last track was really about you, you were completely certain now. Maybe one day you'll call me and tell me you're sorry too. For the first time since he's been in your presence this evening, you regain a sense of confidence, your nervous jitters diminishing with your next statement.

"I didn't have anything to apologize for."

And you didn't. Not when he was the one that left, when he was the one that decided he didn't want to love you anymore, when he was the one that chose his life over the both of yours. It hurt. It still does. So why would you call him and tell him that you're sorry too? Sorry for what? Loving him too much? Because you loved him too much. He was the love of your life, the man you wanted to marry, the man you wanted to be the father of your children, the man that completely and utterly captured your heart and sewed it together with his own. But he left. And you had to figure out how to live without him, how to do the dishes when he wasn't drying, how to dance when it wasn't his records playing in the background, how to kiss when it wasn't his lips that were folded over yours, how to love again when it wasn't him that you were loving. You had to do it all. Alone. Pick up the pieces he scattered, put them back together, and super glue them.

Then he put out his debut album. And suddenly he was everywhere, from magazines, to billboards, to tv shows, to recommended YouTube videos, to Instagram, to twitter, to even Facebook, there he was again, closer to you than he had been in months, yet still light years away. And all of those pieces you super glued? Yeah, they became completely undone again, and it didn't help that you decided to actually listen to his album. It was one thing to see him everywhere, but to hear him again, hear that voice that once felt like home, it ruined you.

That song ruined you.

You remember the day that song was inspired from, every single detail.

-

You had a particularly busy day at work, and you decided to have a spa night. A bubble bath, a bottle of rosé, a face mask, a couple bath bombs, and a pizza was exactly what the doctor prescribed. You had just stepped out of your steamy wonderland, your body covered in your favorite, fluffy robe, soapy suds still clinging to damp skin, completely content in your cotton bubble and slightly buzzed from the glasses of wine you consumed. It was nearly 3 in the morning, and you just sat down at your vanity to apply your various lotions and serums when the phone rang.

Who on earth is calling you this late at night?

You shuffled your slippered-feet to your bedside table, glancing over to see something you never thought you'd see again.

His name.

Harry Styles

Flashing on your screen.

Nearly giving you a heart attack.

You froze in your tracks, eyes widening, mouth hanging open, breathing halting, heart beat slowing and thumping louder than ever in your ears. It felt like the entire world was put on pause, every car on the busy street outside your apartment stopped, traffic lights stuck on red, clouds frozen in place in the sky, every form of life on hold. You miss the call, not that you could have answered anyways; you were completely and utterly paralyzed.

Another notification: Harry Styles Voicemail.

Then you're breathing again, quick, sharp puffs of air in and out. Are you dreaming? You squint your eyes shut tightly and pinch your wrist. This has to be a dream. You open your eyes, the same notification illuminating your screen. You're not dreaming.

God presses play on the world, your surroundings slowly returning back to their normal pace around you, your bubble bursting as you frantically pull your phone from its charger, typing in in your passcode at the speed of light and going straight to the neon green cube on your dock. A shaky thumb taps on the voicemail, hitting the speaker button. There are a couple seconds of static, and for a moment you think maybe it was an accident, a butt-dial, a complete misunderstanding. Please let this be an accident.

Key word: moment.

Because as soon as you think you can forget about this, go back to your nightly routine, and have a peaceful sleep, his voice is booming through the speakers, and you're paralyzed again.

"Um... Hi, it's Harry," the ghost of the man you used to know lets out a nervous laugh, "But you knew that didn't yeh? Probably why you didn't answer..." there's silence, two seconds, five seconds, eight. "I'm in Japan. It's noon here, and m'drunk, alone in my hotel room," his voice is deep, raspy, tired. "'Member that ring I gave you? I'm stayin' a couple blocks away from that shop. Y'loved that ring. Think tha' was the last good thing I did."

Your eyes shift to your right hand, the one that's not death-gripping your phone, the one that holds the piece of metal he's referring to. A lump grows in the back of your throat, and suddenly it's becoming harder to stand. You collapse on the edge of your bed and gulp. Tears pool uncontrollably in your eyes, falling onto the robe that now feels like pinecones suffocating you.

"I saw Mark befo' I left. Ran into him at the grocery store," Mark, your co-worker, your friend. Mark didn't tell you he saw Harry. Why didn't he tell you he saw Harry? Why is Harry talking about Mark? Why did Harry call you? Why did Harry leave you a voicemail? "I asked him how you were, and he said you were fine. Are you fine?" No. "Cause I'm not. M'not fine at all."

You shut your eyes in pain, wincing at his words. Waterfalls flood from your eyes, and you hate it. You hate that this is affecting you so much. You hate that he still has a hold on you. You wished you could not care; you wished you could simply say "fuck you forever" and forget him. It's been 6 months since the breakup, and you want more than anything to move on and forget him.

"Love I-" You bite your tongue at the pet name, almost drawing blood. When was the last time he called you that? 'Love'—the equivalent of a knife plunging into your chest again and again. "I fucked up... and I miss you." And again. "God, I miss you so much." And again. "And m'sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." And again. "Th'worst thing I ever did was what I did to you."

You're fully sobbing at this point, your phone thrown across the other end of your bed, his voice slightly muffled by your duvet. Your hands are tangled in your hair, elbows resting on your knee caps, shoulders shaking as you hiccup, wave after wave of his words hitting you. Little do you know, Harry is on the other end of the world doing the exact same thing—hands pulling his hair, hunched over on the edge of his grand suite's expensive mattress, an almost empty bottle of whiskey to his right, tears staining the carpet beneath him.

"And I know this is late. M'a fuckin' idiot for not saying it until now. I just..." He breathes out a sigh, and you pinch your eyes shut even tighter. No, he's drunk. He doesn't mean it. He's drunk. He doesn't mean it. Don't fall for it; you've been doing fine. You're fine... right? "I needed yeh to hear that. Need you to know I'm so sorry for hurting you. I did th'one thing I swore I'd never do."

Relaxing your grip on the roots of your hair, you sit up at his words, the words you have waited to hear him say for six months. Why don't they sweep you off your feet like you imagined? Why don't you feel different? You had thought about this moment over and over, the moment he would finally own up to his mistakes, finally apologize for all the shit he put you through. You imagined him showing up to your doorstep with a dozen sunflowers, your favorite, a speech prepared on how much he still loves you and how much he is sorry for everything. After, you would launch into his open arms, sinking back into his quicksand, enveloped in his love all over again. Everything would fall back into place; you would be whole again. What you didn't expect was a drunken voicemail, making you want to crumble inside yourself until all that is left is a pile of bones, useless. It felt as if there was a surprise epilogue to your joint ending—you were experiencing the break up all over again. What was supposed to give you life, hope was slowly taking it away each second the voicemail continued.

"I'm dying, love." Me too. "Can I still call you that?" No. "M'dying without you. Just... Please call me. Please let me show you how sorry I am. Need to hear y'voice. I'm so sorry. Call me."

-

His voicemail remains in your phone. You never called him back. You've lost count of the times your finger hovered over his contact name, nearly jumping into the deep end, just for you to take one step backwards on the diving board. One particular night, after taking another step back, you decided to write down everything you wanted to say, everything you wished you knock on his door and scream at him until you lost your voice—all of the heartache, the sorrow, the stress, the hope, the anxiety, every single emotion you felt since it ended. You wrote twenty-two pages. They're now hidden in your bedside table, addressed and stamped, never sent. Harry didn't call you again; that was the last time you heard from him, over a year ago now.

Silence welcomes itself again. Comfortable silence is so overrated.

Shoulder brushing against yours, Harry stands still, digesting your last words. I didn't have anything to apologize for. There was a time when he would have completely disagreed with that statement, clearly, given the lyrics to his last track on his debut album. Then, he would have argued that both of you had dipped your toe in your downfall, each equally responsible for how things crumbled apart. Now, however, he sees how it was him that was in the wrong. He was the one afraid of the commitment you wanted from him—part of him could never fully love you like he wanted to. A couple hundred therapy sessions later, he's sorted his shit out, and he sees just how much shit he put you through, as if someone had sat him down in a theatre, showing him your love story from your perspective. You don't owe him an apology; you were perfect, always giving him your all, every single drop, every single ounce of your love from an endless fountain. He was the one that left. Hewas the one that broke you into small, jagged pieces.

But he's selfish. He still misses you so much. He misses your hand encased in his, your laugh at his terrible jokes, your lips on his cheek, your faint snores that only erupt on Friday nights after a hard week at work, your face buried in his neck, chest on top of his and legs entangled in his on the couch, your finger poking his dimple, your face scrunched in concentration as you painted his nails, your records playing in his house (the ones you said he had to borrow, but if he scratched them, he was a dead man), your hugs (the way you would make him feel itty bitty in your embrace, enveloping him into your open arms after he was away for too long), your mind, always alive and itching for those deep conversations that always arise at midnight in his bed.

That's why he came to the wedding in the first place. He was originally booked to shoot a music video, but he quickly cancelled at the possibility of seeing you here. And that's why when he finally spotted you, off in the distance, speaking into your phone away from the buzzing reception, he knew he had to talk to you. He didn't care if it re-opened closed wounds; he was selfish and he had to talk to you. He missed you.

"Listen-"

"I-" Harry speaks up at the same time you do, beginnings of sentences clashing together. Your eyes meet again, shoulders turned towards each other now. He grins, bunny teeth making an appearance at the mishap regardless of the obvious tension that has invaded the air between the two of you. You envy that trait, his ability to make any situation comfortable and relaxed despite its origin. "You first."

"No, um you go," you mumble out awkwardly, finishing off the remnants of wine in your glass in a rather large gulp to ease the nerves. You know Harry, sometimes better than he knows himself, and you know that he would have never approached you if he didn't have some motive on his own. You had to shut this down—there was no way you could go down this road with him again, not when just this conversation was enough to ruffle your feathers, making you feel like a traitor in your own body, someone you don't even know.

"How 'bout we both go?" There's a cheeky look in his eye, and if you look hard enough you could see a tinge of excitement, hopefulness, "On th'count of three?"

Not daring to quirk upwards, your lips remain straight, and you nod.

"One," You can do it. Just tell him you want to basically forget he exists. "Two," You can do it. Just tell her you still love her. "Three."

Two similar heartbeats.

"I still love you-" Sweet sugar crystals, an honest confession from candy land.

"I think it's best if we don't see each other again." An exploding cannon, sinking his battle ship.

Two entirely different headspaces.

-

The next morning, you wake up with a massive headache, one that was undoubtedly brewing as you cried yourself to sleep the night prior (it might also have to do with the entire bottle of wine you consumed as soon as you slipped off your heels in your apartment).

You notice it's technically no longer morning when you check your phone, squinting in pain at the sudden brightness, the numbers 1:25 yelling back at you. Thank god it's Saturday; you haven't had a hangover of this intensity since college and there is no way you could possibly go to work like this.

Slowly slipping out of the warmth of your numerous weighted blankets, your socked feet hit the plush carpet, and you bend down and open the bottom drawer of your bedside table. Tied up in a pink bow are four envelopes, addressed and stamped, waiting to be delivered to the man whose hopes you crushed. You reached for the stack, running your fingers along the edges, reading over his name, tracing the letters with your fingertips.

With the letters firm in your grasp, you rush to your front door, making sure to slip on your robe; you don't want anyone to drive by you putting these letters in your mailbox in nothing but a t-shirt and undies, after all.

You're finally doing it, diving into the crystal-clear water that was once forever still. You're going to mail all twenty-two pages, every emotion. This is it, the last period to the epilogue, the ending of this book, the closure the both of you so desperately need.

As you reach for the handle, you pause, noticing the one thing you nearly forgot about—that gold band. You slip the piece of metal off your finger, observing his initials engraved on the inside for the last time. Untying the bow holding the envelopes together, you slide the ring onto one end of the cotton-candy colored ribbon and retie the knot, the ring now attached. Inhale, one moment to reflect. Exhale, one moment to say your final goodbye. You swing open the door, and right before you can make another move, something stops you. Looking down at your doorstep, a bittersweet smile breaks out across your face. He was saying goodbye too.

A dozen sunflowers.