#afterglow series 💕

[lalal-99]

If You Don't Know {h.h.} | Afterglow Series

©July 2023 by lalal-99 Part of the Afterglow Series Taglist for series

Hyunjin x afab!reader | trope: break up sex, lovers to exes | smut, angst | wordcount: 6k

Synopsis: “You know, if it weren’t for my job, I wouldn’t go. Right? I would never leave you like this voluntarily.” Hyunjin understood. Obviously, he did. Your job came first. It had always come first and would always come first in the future. Just as it did for him. It was the one thing he respected most about you. “And you know if it weren’t for mine, I would leave everything behind and come with you, right?”

Warnings: explicit content | dni if your under 18

Smut Tags: Angsty Porn with Plot | Sex with the Ex | Break-up Sex | Vaginal Sex | Oral Sex (f. receiving) | Semi-Public Sex | Toys | Overstimulation | Edgeplay | Mild Painplay | Crying during Sex | Emotional Sex

Note: I'm very emotional. Don't talk to me (comment though). Just listen to the playlist, it's self-explanatory. Also read the other stories in this series. I'm going back to crying now.

Taglist: @skzho @bubblelixie @flakywig @itsallaboutkey @avyskai @mekuiikore @joonghands @changbiddies0325 @knowleeknow @sensitiveandhungry @shincode @svintsandghosts @snoozeagustd @tinyarsonist @fxckedupbitch @rachabreathing @haneuljisung @goblinracha @maknaeswrld @michbang02

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There it was again. The heart-wrenching, soul-shaking pain that made it so very harder for Hyunjin to breathe. To live. To look at you.

He had never imagined ever being this hurt by you, unable to look at you longer than a few seconds while at the same time respecting every decision that had led you here. Not you. Not the person he had planned his whole future and spent the majority of his adulthood with.

The two of you were meant to be together; had decided so after only months together. Because no one could ever get you as much as Hyunjin did, and vice versa. You were the perfect match of similarities and differences. For everything you had in common, there was something you could teach the other about. For every fight you had – bickering over something unimportant – you agreed on a much more intense matter. The perfect back and forth, even after years together.

He still remembered the first time he saw you at that rooftop party one of his friends had held a few years back. He noticed you while talking to a guy he so desperately hoped was your brother or cousin. Or best friend. Anyone, as long as he wasn’t your boyfriend. He recalled the first time you made him laugh, just seconds later, when you let out an unintended snort while laughing at something your brother/cousin/best friend had said. And his own hearty giggle in response to your amusement ultimately induced the first time you noticed his existence. The world had stopped around Hyunjin as you caught his gaze – embarrassed redness warming your cheeks as you realised he had witnessed your weird laugh.

It had taken him about 20 more minutes before he couldn’t take it anymore and approached you. He knew he would never forgive himself for not hearing the sweet sound of your voice or seeing the mesmerising spark in your eyes up close at least once.

Hyunjin also remembered the exact moment he fell in love with you. Staring at you with heart eyes when you told him you were an artist, too. A painter, just like himself. Why ever this was what did it for him, Hyunjin had never questioned. Although he knew, as he laid in bed that night, eyes painting pictures against the white ceiling, that he needed to see you again. If only to talk about your favourite artists and art museums for another 3 hours.

Hyunjin recognised – and had done so way before – that he’d never forget any of those precious moments.

Like when you went to the fair on your first date and won him a stuffed dumpling, already aware they were his favourite food. Or how you were forced to cut your date short moments later when you noticed the first person wearing Stray Kids merch. And obviously, he would always hold that day dear in his heart. Despite the unfortunate ending of your date, you had called him minutes after he had dropped you off at your apartment to tell him that you already couldn’t wait to see him again. He had turned around, sprinting back and ringing your doorbell, overwhelming you with a kiss once you opened the door for him.

Or the time you went to the beach, chatting endlessly with your feet dangling over the water. The moment Hyunjin pulled away from your lips, moonlight sparkled in your irises, catching them in the perfect lightning. He blurted ‘Please be my girlfriend’ quicker than his brain could process, heart only settling once you caught his lips again, whispering a content ‘Yes’ against him.

The first time you told him you loved him was engraved in his brain, never to be forgotten. You exclaimed it (just as unintentionally as he did when he asked you to be his girlfriend) while cuddling in bed, laptop playing your favourite Disney movie. It was merely background noise as his heart skipped multiple beats, lips curving into a shit-eating grin as he repeated your words back to you before kissing you, his body soon hovering over you as he worshipped every possible edge of your figure.

All these moments, everything he had hoped to one day tell his children and grandchildren about. Every memory that came back to him made him so unbelievably content he could cry. And still, as his eyes focused on your back, he was hurt. He understood, but he was also in unbearable pain.

“When did you get back?” Hyunjin had watched you for a minute before finally speaking up, stepping onto his balcony to join you. With the shrinking distance, so shrunk his pain. Even if just slightly.

“A while ago.”

After storming off about two hours ago, you took time to walk it off. While unable to reach you, Hyunjin had taken the same time to talk about what had happened to the one person he never imagined having such deep talks with within his household. He had been searching for Chan or Changbin, knowing how busy his hyungs usually were, and unsurprisingly found neither. He was about to call either of them, crying his heart out over the phone, hoping they would take pity and come home to comfort him when he bumped into Jisung.

Although their conversations never reached beyond the unserious topics of food, hobbies, or embarrassing memories, Jisung turned out to be the one person Hyunjin needed right now. Listening was his strong suit, allowing Hyunjin to spurt out all the thoughts in his head without judgement or advice. Jisung’s incapability to lead Hyunjin the way left him no choice but to do the thinking and solving himself. Just talking about the situation and rambling about how unfair life was turned out to be exactly what he needed.

“We should probably talk about it, right?”

“Yeah, probably,” you agreed with a sigh. Hyunjin came to your side, his hand hugging yours on the railing as he gazed into the distance. “The things you said- that really hurt me. Like... I know I’m the bad guy here, but still.”

“You’re not the bad guy. We always knew this day could come.”

You love me? Well, you have a shitty way of showing it!

“And I’m sorry. I keep replaying it in my head, and I didn’t mean it. I just- needed to react.”

His words kept ringing in his memory as much as he tried drowning them out. It had taken saying them out loud to Jisung a gazillion times to finally realise how wrong he was. How unfair he had treated you.

Go ahead, then! Rip my heart out! Show me what the love you claim to have is all about!

He had said them to your face. Like an absolute asshole.

“I- fuck. This just really sucks. Like, so much.”

“It does. And I’m sorry.”

He knew you were. You had said so, so many times he had lost count. And he knew he’d be sorry too, had it been him leaving. He had left you in the past, multiple times, for that matter, and he had felt so guilty every time. But it wasn’t him this time. It was you. And it wasn’t just weeks either. You were looking at a year, maybe more. That didn’t compare to all the times he had to leave for tour – two weeks, four, sometimes six.

“You know, if it weren’t for my job, I wouldn’t go. Right? I would never leave you like this voluntarily.”

Hyunjin understood. Obviously, he did. Your job came first. It had always come first and would always come first in the future. Just as it did for him. It was the one thing he respected most about you.

“And you know if it weren’t for mine, I would leave everything behind and come with you, right?”

A tiny smile appeared on your face, although it was just as much a loving one as a hurting one.

“So, what now? Are we just supposed to end things?”

Is this what love is all about? Loving and letting go? Finding someone and losing them? An endless cycle?

You shifted your weight to lay your head onto his shoulder like you had done all those times before. Though this time, your head felt much heavier.

“I think so, yes.”

Hyunjin laid his spinning head onto yours, kissing your temple before focusing on the horizon again.

“What if-” It was a spontaneous outburst, his mouth betraying his brain like it did when he had asked you to be his all these years ago. Hyunjin didn’t know where he was going with it anyways, but you interrupted him before he could find out.

“Don’t do this,” you warned, pulling away to find his eyes. The sadness in his was heartbreaking, tears forming at the edges. He hated the realisation that despite the moonlight catching your irises, they didn’t sparkle. It was more like a glimmer caused by the liquid drowning them. “Don’t try to save this. Let’s enjoy the time we have left instead of clinging to the future we imagined for ourselves.”

Hyunjin was in the same parts frustrated with and respectful of the rationality you handled this situation with. Especially knowing this must break you as much as it did him. That’s what your face told him, brows furrowed and eyes dimming, to prevent the overflowing pain from spilling over.

As much as he wished to find a solution, he knew better than to waste whatever hours the two of you had left together. He wanted to spend every second of it loving you, touching you. The faster he accepted the inevitable, the sooner he’d get to just live.

Hyunjin held your face in his hands, your cheeks pushed between his palms so adorably squishy as he tried memorising every pore. That distinct mole on the bridge of your nose, those beautiful eyes he had spent weeks staring into, the pout of your lips as you looked up at him. He used to love all of those features that had become the muse of his work, drawings and every day. Now, looking at you, wiping a stray whiplash off your cheekbone, filled him with unease.

“I know we just broke up,” a tear escaped your eye at his words, running down your jaw and caught by his thumb. Saying it out loud made it so much more real. “But I really want to kiss you right now.”

Your chuckle was met with a lip bite as you leaned up to catch his mouth in a heavy kiss.

The sensuality of the kiss almost made him forget what had just happened, tongues soon finding each other.

“I’ll so miss those lips.”

Hyunjin smirked at your words, drawing away but keeping his hands on your cheeks. “Not just the lips, I hope.”

“No. I’ll also miss braiding your hair. And painting your nails.” Tilting his head, your heart almost combusted at how adorable he looked. “Fine. I’ll also miss the man behind all those things.”

“But most of all, my lips?”

“Exactly.”

“What will you miss most about them?” His lower lip wandered between his teeth as he watched the blush creep up your neck.

“I’ll miss kissing them. Tasting you-”

“Just kissing them? Nothing else?“

“I’ll miss their plumpness and how they feel against my- my- neck.” As on cue, he tipped your head back with the push of a finger against your chin, mouth meeting your main artery. His kisses were hot against your flushed skin, tracing the veins until he reached under your ear. His wet tongue darted out to lick over the sensitive part of your neck.

“Your neck, huh? Anywhere else?”

You weren’t stupid. You knew what Hyunjin was doing. And you would have been lying had you claimed you weren’t entirely on board with it.

“My chest,” you answered breathlessly as his hands followed his lips, eventually circling your neck to keep you in position. You reached for his long locks, entangling and pulling at their blonde roots as he kissed your cleavage. Hyunjin moaned against your skin but didn’t let go. He was entirely caught up in the moment, tranced by the smell of your perfume and your body’s reactions. His kisses always made your senses blur and your brain fog. “My stomach.” Hyunjin’s hands graced your arms, down your sides, until his fingers grasped your shirt. Pulling it up, he exposed the skin. Soon enough, you felt his lips against your navel.

“Go on.” His words were almost silent, moaned against your flesh.

“My- my-”

“I’m listening.”

“My thighs,” you ended your thought, breath hitching when Hyunjin sank to his knees. Hadn’t your hands been in his hair, you wouldn’t have noticed. Not until you felt his lips exactly there. On your thighs. Kissing every fibre of them. Licking over the skin. Closing in on your centre.

What a day to wear a skirt.

That you were still on the balcony of his apartment had completely slipped your mind. How couldn’t it with how utterly overwhelming his kisses were?

Small bites led his way all over your flesh, tongue darting out every few kisses to capture your taste. That’s everything he could think of at that moment. To capture your essence, fill his head with all those details about your smell, touch, and body.

Pushing your skirt up, he slowly unveiled you for him. Not like he didn’t exactly know just how you looked under it. He had spent hours, days – weeks, probably – getting to know your body and every one of its details. Your beauty marks, your stretch marks – which he found just as beautiful – your erogenous zones. Hyunjin knew how sensitive you were on your thighs, playing with that knowledge to his and your hearts’ content.

“Baby…” His heart jumped at your pet name, the next bite extra deep, making you groan.

“I love it when you call me that.”

His fingers wandered around your body to your ass, nails pushing into your skin as he kneaded it. Mouth wandering even further up, he soon reached your panties, tongue dancing along the hem.

As much as he wanted to take his time, he let himself be urged by your quickening breath and fingers pulling his hair. Wrapping his teeth around the elastic, he dragged it down your thighs, exposing your heat to his longing gaze. He intended to worship you, devour you, until all you could say – or scream – was his name. And there was no doubt that he knew how to achieve his goal.

“Hyunjin…”

“Say it again,” Hyunjin pleaded, tongue tiptoeing centimetres over your core. “Call me ‘baby’.”

“Fuck, baby. Please. I’m begging you.”

The absence of a verbal answer was forgotten as Hyunjin dove in, muscle pushing between your folds to softly run over your flesh. A dark moan escaped your lips, head falling back against your neck as you threatened to suffocate.

One thing to know about Hyunjin was that he was a Soft Boy™. Everything about him was gentle and calm – midnight pillow talks, painting beside each other, making love. He never went full force right at the get-go; or in the further stages, for that matter.

His tongue was precise, the sharp tip toying with every nerve ending between your tiniest crevices. As though he was worshipping every fibre, taking his sweet, sweet time.

Despite being surrounded by fresh air, you got ridiculously hot, moans tumbling out of you loosely. Had the balcony not been shielded from the neighbours on either side, they would have easily spotted you. Although, you doubted they wouldn’t have figured out your evening shenanigans if they were to overhear. The sloppy noises from Hyunjin’s mouth on you mixed with your sounds of pleasure were more than self-explanatory.

His tongue leisurely roamed around your core, dipping into your hole before passionately prodding against your clit.

You grew even hotter, fingers running through Hyunjin’s hair while your head lolled from side to side.

You could already tell you wouldn’t last as long as usual, only reinforcing that feeling when he pulled one of your legs over his shoulders. With your back pressed against the railing, one of your hands came to the metal bar to stabilise your body. Hyunjin was rocking your body in the most literal sense, lips wrapping around your nub as the new angle allowed him to devour you even more reverently.

Looking down at him was possibly the worst decision you could have made, the sight of him between your thighs heavenly. He looked like an angel as he made out with your heat, eyes closed in concentration and desire.

You were so in love with the man that the pure vision of him eating you out, gaining as much pleasure from it as you did, was leading you closer to your impending high.

“Fuck. Hyunjin.” Your whimper was met with a squeeze of your plush thigh, a smile spreading on your face as you instantly understood the indication of his action. You quickly corrected yourself to please him, “Baby. I’m so close.”

Spreading your folds with two of his fingers, Hyunjin focused the movement of his tongue on your clit, gently stroking it back and forth. He opened his eyes to note your reaction as you had long gone back to gazing at the night sky, sight blurring as you savoured the moments before your inevitable orgasm.

Your breath quickened with every single one of his movements. You could almost taste the sweet release as your ab muscles mildly contracted. Hyunjin must have noticed a particular reaction in your figure, a grin appearing on his face as he pulled at your nub one last time before withdrawing.

It took you a couple of seconds to gather that he wasn’t resuming his actions, a sigh leaving your lips.

“Don’t be mad.” Joining you at eye level, Hyunjin pushed his lips against yours, letting you taste yourself. “We have all night. You’ll get to come. Eventually.”

After spending many years with each other, you knew Hyunjin liked to tease and edge you. For some reason – be it overpowering you or his sadomasochistic tendencies – he had always loved making you go crazy for him. Since your first time together, the process of making love solely lengthened. Rarely did your shared time last for less than a couple of hours at a time; your record standing at an all-nighter on your anniversary a couple of months ago.

Despite the situation being sadder than the celebration of your relationship, you could already tell that this wouldn’t be a quick goodbye. Frankly, you didn’t expect to get any sleep tonight. Hyunjin’s intentions were transparent as he took your hand and guided you into his room. All it took was a sharp twist of his wrist, and you were situated on his bed, body pulled all the way to the edge as he glided into place.

Thus began the most excruciating hours of your life, Hyunjin locking his mouth to your body and tossing the key.

Somewhere between the 10th and the 15th maddening edge, you believed you had lost consciousness for a while. You still remembered Hyunjin pulling out your rabbit, placing it between your thighs to offer you something to clench around as he concentrated on your clit. Nibbling. Sucking. Craving.

When you came to, Hyunjin had repositioned you at the headboard. His mouth was on one of your nipples, teeth gently sinking into it as a sea of whimpers washed over your tongue. Had you still had any sort of power to talk, you’d have told him to finally fuck you. That all you needed was to be around him, clenching around him instead of the vibrating silicone.

At last, after around another 30 minutes of Hyunjin slowly travelling up your trembling shape, he finally landed in eyesight. His lips around your neck sucked at your bruised skin, breath shallow as you swore you started seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Please.”

Even your voice had become so frail it barely reached above a whisper. Hyunjin arrived at your eye level, body held carefully above yours to not crush you. His lips were swollen red, blood pumping through them as though they were his most vital organ. When you noticed the blurriness in his eyes – from either being in a trance or crying, you couldn’t tell – another whimper left your lips.

“Please, what, baby?”

His voice also broke, though still a lot less fragile than yours.

“Please…” Words. What even were words? You could barely put together multiple letters, let alone syllables. “Baby, please…” Focusing your eyes on the ceiling, you felt your abs weakly contracting as the vibrator still pumped away inside you. So steadily inside you. Inside you. Inside. Inside. “Inside. Please. Baby.”

You knew you couldn’t get closer to what you were trying to ask him to do. Tears of relief rolled down your cheeks when finally, after possibly the most prolonged foreplay you had ever received, he pulled the toy out of you with a smile.

“Anything for my baby.”

“Baby,” you repeated his words, your head rolling forward to watch him enter you.

And enter you he did. With an agonisingly slow-paced movement, Hyunjin slid his length into you, rubbing the numbly swollen walls until he couldn’t go any further.

Feeling you instantly clenching around him, core so delicate from hours of teasing, Hyunjin waited a while – possibly minutes. For what felt like an eternity, he merely kissed you, lips still not surrendering. You had no mind questioning how he wasn’t entirely spent like you.

“Can I move?”

You nodded, eyes immediately closing in pleasure as he retracted. With how tender you had become, it felt as though every single one of his movements was lighting your nerves on fire. Hyunjin kept unwinding inside you, but you had already reentered that wonderful place between serenity and desire.

“Baby, you’re so tight.” Yeah, no shit. You wanted to yell at him and tell him that’s what comes from hours of stimulation without release. Too bad you still couldn’t talk. Or move. Or think.

Everything felt so good. Like Hyunjin was stimulating every part of your body simultaneously. You couldn’t remember another time you had felt this close to him, physically; bodies morphing into one as he panted above you. You breathed the same boiling air, let out the same delicious sounds, and looked at each other with the same amount of pure, unwavering love.

“I love you so much. All of you. Forever.”

The words Hyunjin had repeated so many times to you throughout your relationship were what broke you.

The tears that had previously signalled your relief – eventually able to have all of him – turned to ones of sadness and despair. It took around 10 seconds for Hyunjin to realise you were crying, movements haltering abruptly.

Remaining still inside you, Hyunjin brought his fingers to your face to brush away the salty liquid.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” he questioned compassionately, irises boring into your own through the veil of sorrow. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. M-” Your voice broke away, hands coming up to shield your face from his view. Here you were crying during sex, having Hyunjin so worried he had hurt you. “Me. I- I hurt you.”

It all came to you now. Yes, you had been feeling guilty for the past few weeks. Ever since you found out you would be leaving. Leaving your home. Leaving him. But now, it finally hit you. You wouldn’t just be exiting his life. You would be leaving him in pieces. He loved you so much. All of you. Forever. And you loved him just as much. Maybe even more.

You never meant for it to end this way. You had been in denial about your departure since it was decided. And now that it had moved so very closely, you doubted every decision you had made.

“I hurt you. But I love you. So much.”

“I know.” Hyunjin seemed calm, as though he was trying to stay strong for the two of you. Like you hadn’t shattered his heart by revealing you had chosen your career over him. “It’s alright, baby. I’m okay.”

He brought your trembling hand to his mouth, kissing every knuckle before brushing your fingers over his face. His skin was soft, courtesy of the dozen skin products he used every day. Oh, how’d you miss putting sheet masks over his smooth, handsome features and massaging the cream deeply into his pores. He always smelled so much like flowers afterwards that, at some point, your subconscious had saved it under ‘home’ in the databank of your mind.

“See? I’m just like always. I’m okay.”

Even if he was right now, you knew he wouldn’t be. No matter when it would happen – tomorrow, next week or once you were gone. Eventually, he would realise the pain you had caused him and how he couldn’t act nonchalant forever. And then he’d break. Because of your actions. Because of what you did. To him. The love of your life.

“Okay.” You echoed his words, hoping he would eventually be just that. Okay. Get over you and be okay.

There was no way of knowing.

“Okay.”

Meeting your lips, Hyunjin gave you a soothing kiss. As though you would break under too much pressure – like porcelain.

He resumed his previous movement; sliding out of you before sinking himself entirely back in. After the sudden change in atmosphere – a more bittersweet taste coating your tongue – Hyunjin sped up. It didn’t take much of you to figure out that he was trying to distract you from your pain.

And it probably would have worked just fine. Hadn’t it been for that one tear slipping from the corner of his eye. Rolling down his pink cheek and falling onto yours, joining your own as they rolled down your neck.

That’s when you realised. He wouldn’t be okay.

The sun kissed Hyunjin awake in the morning, rays tickling his bare skin as he opened his eyes. He brought his hands to his face, rubbing his eyelids with the back of them. A tired yawn left his mouth as he stretched his arms over his messy hair.

He couldn’t remember when he had fallen asleep. That he had felt calm enough to rest even slightly was a miracle in itself, his mind wide awake most of the night as he tried to get used to the idea of you leaving. Definitely not a nice thought, but he couldn’t let it get to him just yet. After seeing you breaking down mid-intercourse yesterday, he needed to stay strong for you. So you wouldn’t feel as guilty for leaving.

Hyunjin looked to his side as reality slowly caught up with him, finding the rest of the bed deprived of your presence. He figured you had already gotten up, the shower in the next room hitting the tiled wall softly.

Deciding to get a headstart for the day Hyunjin had planned, he left his bed, pulling a pair of sweatpants over his thighs as he looked for the shirt he had worn. It took him a couple of seconds to realise that you must have taken it, grabbing a new shirt out of his dresser with a satisfied smile playing on his face.

Waltzing into the dorm kitchen, Hyunjin discovered Changbin and Jisung’s rooms empty, their doors wide open. They must have gone to the gym already, and knowing Chan, he probably was at the studio. Either already or still – Hyunjin could never be quite sure.

Even though the dorm was empty most days, he never complained about having all this extra space. Especially not today, as he had already painted a mental picture of the last few days with you by his side. Staying in and spending time with each other was at the top of his list, so having the whole living space to yourselves was more than perfect.

After retrieving two fresh cups from the dishwasher, he left them to fill under the coffee machine while searching the fridge. He barely remembered the last meal he ate, so he was positively starving. Some leftover dinner from either of his roommates was stored in containers, and since he knew they wouldn’t be back in the near future, he decided to take it and place it in a clean pan to heat up.

“Baby? I’m making breakfast. You want something?” When there was no answer, Hyunjin repeated his question, approaching the bathroom until he could knock softly on the door. The shower had stopped, but maybe you couldn’t hear him over the sound of your own thoughts. It wouldn’t have been the first time, anyways. “Baby?”

The door opened a second later, his smile fading as he realised it wasn’t you in the bathroom but rather a slightly shorter, definitely broader member of his band. Droplets of water landed on Hyunjin’s face when Chan ruffled his hair under his towel, another sitting low on his hips.

“No baby. Just me.”

Hyunjin could tell so much.

“You know where she is?”

“I haven’t seen her,” Chan replied, leaning against the door frame as Hyunjin hurried to the other bathroom. He knew you preferred the one he shared with Chan as it was bigger and, most importantly, cleaner. Perhaps you had moved to the other one as this one was occupied. “I did hear the front door earlier, though. But that could have been the kids.”

When Hyunjin found the other bathroom as well as the remaining two bedrooms empty, he sped back into his own.

“Jisung told me what happened. Did you make up yesterday?”

“We did. At least, I think we did.” Once out of his room with his phone in hand, Hyunjin found his friend’s eyes. “She’s still leaving, and we broke up. But we talked about it. I thought we were spending the last few days together.”

Hyunjin unlocked his phone and turned off aeroplane mode, his thumb hovering over the call button next to your name. He was about to press it when he noticed a red icon at the bottom of the display, hinting at a new voicemail. Weird, seeing he hadn’t gotten a voicemail in what felt like at least 5 years.

Playing the voicemail instead, he brought his phone to his ear, listening to what he interpreted as your footsteps and a door closing. Finally, your voice appeared. It wasn’t until he heard a sniffle that his heart sank into the pits of his stomach.

“Hi-” your voice broke as you were crying. “I’m so- sorry. I know I said I was okay, but I’m really not. I miss you so much already… I can- can’t.” Whatever you meant, it couldn’t have been good, or else you wouldn’t be so obviously losing control over your emotions. Hyunjin checked the time stamp, realising you had recorded it about 15 minutes earlier. “Fuck. I should have definitely thought about what to say…” A small, sad chuckle followed. “I know we talked about this, and I told you I would leave in two weeks… But I can’t stay. Not when I know how much I hurt you…”

Looking into Chan’s eyes as his heart broke, Hyunjin realised the meaning of your words. You were leaving. Not in two weeks, not tomorrow. Now. He couldn’t let this be the end without getting to at least say goodbye properly, so he sprinted back into his room. He grabbed a pair of sneakers and a jacket, pulling them over his body as he kept your voice right by his ear.

“I’m staying with a friend for the next few days before catching an early flight. All my stuff’s gone anyways, so there’s nothing holding me in my apartment… You’re probably on your way out already, and I obviously can’t dictate what you do. But I’m asking you anyway. Please don’t come after me…” Hyunjin stopped dead in his tracks, Chan’s eyebrows furrowing. “Please don’t make it harder for me or you. This is already breaking us. I don’t think I can handle seeing you again… Not when I know that it will be the last time.”

A single tear escaped Hyunjin’s eyes as he fell onto the couch, eyes focused on a random spot on the blank wall. Chan immediately came to his side, strong arms wrapping around his shoulder.

Hyunjin didn’t react. Couldn’t possibly react when his whole mind was on you.

“I don’t even know why I called you. I just… You deserve a proper goodbye, I think. Even if over the phone… God, I’m such a bitch doing this over the phone, aren’t I? Maybe I should turn around.” You stopped for a few silent seconds, peaking Hyunjin’s hope. But all was for nothing when you picked your pace up. “But I won’t. I’m really sorry. I know this is egoistical of me, and believe me. I hate myself for this.”

Why would you hate yourself when Hyunjin loved you so much. Despite you leaving him. Despite you choosing your career over him. It had always been a possibility; both of you were well aware things could end, given the opportunity. Now that it had, why would you blame yourself?

“I’m…” Again, silence fell over the line, giving Hyunjin a chance to breathe. He hadn’t even realised he had held his breath until the oxygen finally filled his head again. “I love you so much. All of you. Forever. I hope you know this. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to love someone like this again. Not in this lifetime.”

Why didn’t he run after you? Because you had told him not to? No. Perhaps it was the awareness that nothing he said, and nothing he did, could change reality. You were leaving, one way or another. So, why would he ruin what was basically the perfect goodbye? Not this call, obviously. But the last night. Being with you. Loving you. It couldn’t become more perfect than this.

“I will never forget any of the memories we made. I don’t think I can, even if I tried. I won’t forget the way we could talk about art all night. About anything, really. I will forever remember listening to all those songs, singing along, and crying to them. I won’t forget how you always looked at me with so much love. Much more than anyone’s ever given me. The smell of hugging you. The taste of kissing you. All of it is imprinted in my brain. Never to be forgotten. This sounds so sappy, I am very aware of that….”

The laugh escaping your lips – your perfect lips that Hyunjin could never quite stop kissing – made him smile. Even if just for a second, it somewhat healed a piece of his heart and left about 999 others for later reassembling.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is… You are my person. That won’t change. Ever… I love you.”

By now, his whole face was red, swollen from the tears streaming down his cheeks. The only thing holding him together was Chan’s physical support. And your voice. He would listen to your voicemail countless times throughout the next few weeks, though he didn’t know it yet.

You pulled the phone away from your ear just to bring it back once more.

“Oh. And I took your shirt. You know, the one I always borrowed. I hope you’re not too attached to it.” Another smile on his face that healed another broken piece of his heart. No, he wasn’t attached to the shirt. He was attached to the person wearing it. “Okay, that’s it. Bye.”

And just like that, the voicemail ended.

Check out all the other stories in this series here!

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[diddybok]

oou that “Lie to me.” felt that omg. this was too good. i love angst so so much my goodness.

LIE TO ME, LMH.

✰ pairing: idol!minho x gn!reader

✰ genre: angst

✰ warnings: profanity, cheating, allusions to sex but not executed, just pain, grammatical errors and typos ahead. not proofread.

✰ word count: 1.5k

✰ song used: lie to me by 5 Seconds of Summer ー the afterglow series collab. ♡

✰ notes: thank you so much @comet-falls for making this collab possible! it was a challenging fic for me to write but i enjoyed it so much. please, to all who are reading the series, make sure to leave feedbacks and reblog the works of our wonderful authors because they deserve it for their hard work! don't forget it.

✰ series taglist: @fxckedupbitch ,, @rachabreathing ,, @haneuljisung ,, @mm-apples ,, @goblinracha ,, @maknaeswrld ,, @deyareasstuff ,, @michbang02 ,, @unsweetenedpeatea

There’s nothing wrong about breaking up. 

But to Minho, you were just so hard to forget. Maybe it was his fault that he blames himself whenever he thinks about you. Why did it happen? Where did he go wrong?  Where did you go wrong? For the past three years, you have been so happy. Who would have thought that your relationship would end with one repetitive mistake? 

“How many times did you do it?”

They say that the strongest relationship doesn’t depend on how long it is, but it depends on a person’s loyalty and faithfulness. You had seen a lot of it. He cheated because she wasn’t enough, she cheated because he’s stupid, he cheated because she’s not attractive, she cheated because he is just treating her like everyone else, there are a lot of reasons. You don’t know if they’re telling the truth and you have no idea how many times they did it behind your back. The relationship you build with him doesn’t go any different. 

“Did you love me?” 

There are questions unanswered. Lies. Happiness. Satisfaction. The love and domesticity. But a relationship is not complete without suffering and pain. Tears. Drunken messages and calls. 2 am fights and other bullshits. And just like everyone else, you and Minho had the same. It’s just that, one just had to take the ties between. You can cut it in half or he can just rip it apart. 

There’s nothing wrong about breaking up. 

You just did it late. 

“How long has it been?” 

The wind blows as it dances with the branches of the trees around the park. It is cold and your clothes aren’t enough to warm you up. But what feels more freezing is the relationship that turned into stone after years of being genuine. Minho sat beside you on the bench, watching the scenery together with the Namsan Tower standing a few miles away with the city lights glowing on a dark horizon. None of you decided to talk after every question. One had been keeping the answer. 

“I saw you.” A pause. “You were happy with them, and I thought I was making a name in your life,” There was a pain in that smile. One that could hide all the aftermath of what they did and as for youーnothing ever changed. “I went to New York to see you, even had to stay with you for a few days because I know you wouldn’t be home for at least a few months,” 

“You didn’t have to do that,” One said. 

“I did,” A pause again. “I did because I love you and I want to see you. How long have you been hiding this from me?” 

There were tears visible as it streams down to your cheeks. You loved him dearly, but you couldn’t stay like this forever and suffer. You admit your relationship with him had been crucial for the past few months, his life was busier than ever as you work in your family’s business. It wasn’t an issue before, the lack of time was not to blame一maybe it was or you were never really meant for each other. 

Or it was caused by a third party. 

It’s funny how the night changes when it started with Minho who was so head over heels as much as you. But when you woke up from a dream, everything fell differently. 

“I’m sorry,” He said. 

“Did you ever love me?” You asked, trying not to sound petty. 

“I did,” Minho said. “I loved you so much!” 

“Then how can you cheat on me?!” 

There was no answer again but pure silence. Nobody dared to talk, but you are sure it’s over for the both of you. He seemed happy with his new one but you feel the opposite. There are words that you wanted to yell at him, scream at him and tell him how fucked up this situation was. But there was none. It’s over, and if you were smart, you’ll forget about this and move on. Words come out makes it easy but how could you do it in just one snap?

And now, you couldn’t get something from him. 

Even those nights when you were lying naked on his bed as he kissed your body filled with warmth. The I love yous between heavy breaths and kisses. The way he made you feel his love and how your brain settled to think of him, and just him. Or those days when he would take you out on dates and escort you to your favorite places, cook for you, attend to his cats with you, and take care of you when you get sick. Minho was perfect, he was perfect, everything was perfect. 

He welcomed you into his arms as you cried harder. It hurts so much. You wondered why, how, and when. But all he said was, “Sorry,” 

Bullshit. 

“I bet he still thinks about you,” You heard Seungmin say beside you. 

“No,” You smiled bitterly. “He doesn’t,” But you weren’t sure. 

It is the night of the event that you were personally invited by the boys. It was a party to celebrate their success in completing their world tour and the awards they received from their recent album. And that closure with Minho that happened a few nights before has led to no changes at all. Seungmin patted your back as he gave you a small smile. He is your protector tonight and asked for a separate table from the 8 of them. Jisung also joined in. 

The staff already served the food but you don’t seem to have an appetite to devour it. Seungmin noticed how tired and exhausted you were from the breakup, and he knew he couldn’t do anything but keep you company. He understood how big of a jerk his hyung is, and still furious about why he had the guts to cheat on you. As if something changed overnight. 

“How long did you know?” You asked him. 

“4 months,” Seungmin answered as you gave him a nod. 

“Y/n, we did everything to stop him,” Jisung butted in but you just shake your head. 

“Thanks Jisung but, it doesn’t matter now,” You smiled at him. 

You looked at Minho from afar as he shared conversations with the CEO and his new partner. He looks happy, more than he ever was when he was still with you. And there, you wished you never started that relationship. You wished you never met him that night at the animal shelter. The pain he left still bothers you until 3 am. You couldn’t sleep at all, overthinking and everyone close to you knows you’re not happy. 

Seungmin held your hand when he sees tears running down your cheeks. It is such a pity to be this sad at an event when the public knows he is dating that person but your relationship was private. There are thoughts you wanted to tell him but just like what happened at the park that night, all he said was sorry. Seungmin pulled you into his arms and let you cry as Minho stole a glance at your table. You knew you are going to spend the next few months taking care of yourself and cleaning up the mess he made out of you. He licked his lower lip and contemplated to carry on another conversation with you again. 

“That damn asshole,” Jisung said clenching his jaw when Minho asked to talk to you. 

“Let them,” Seungmin said. 

And there you found yourself with him at the parking lot, standing face to face. 

“I have questions,” You started. “And I don’t know if I’ll ever get some answers from you. Sometimes I just don’t want to ask them.” You added, laughing bitterly in between. “Are you happy?” 

Minho bit his lip and took a deep breath before opening up, “I am,” He said as you gave him a nod. 

“After what you did, you are happy?” You asked again but before he could even speak up, a bunch of words followed from you. “You know what? I think you’re just a pure asshole who doesn’t care about me even if you showed affection. I still can’t believe you could turn your back away and the next morning you are already seeing someone else while you are still with me.” 

“But I loved you!” He argued. 

“Exactly!” You cried again. “But how about now? No, right? I’ve been dying to know but at the same time, it’s pretty stupid of me to think that you still love me because I still love you. But I’m not asking you to take me back. Just tell me you still love me, for the last time, please? Lie to me,” Your sobs were uncontrollable now and Minho just stood there, watching the mess he made out of you. 

“I love you,” He said, but sure there was hesitation before he spoke. 

“Thanks,” You smiled bitterly. “I hope you live happily,” You added turning away. 

And that was it. 

He lied. 

It is over. 

official taglist: @lix-ables ,, @zoe8stay ,, @gwynsapphire ,, @cherryhanji ,, @seungly ,, @sleepyleeji ,, @ppiri-bahng ,, @snow-pegasus ,, @milkybonya ,, @l3visbby ,, @djeniryuu ,, @tangylemonade ,, @hwan-g ,, @awkwardnesshabitat ,, @chrispychans ,, @therealhyunjingf ,, @hyunverse ,, @lino-jagiyaa ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @svngiem ,, @foxinnie8 ,, @ohish ,, @alyszaen ,, @dreamingsmile ,, @skzfelixlove ,, @stealanity ,, @minluvly ,, @flirtyskzbutterfly ,, @iadorethemskz

[diddybok]

Hi! I really loved your born to die fic with Lee Know…I actually sobbed😭

Are you, in the future, going to do anymore fics based on songs? Love your work!🤍

oh thank you so much my lovely! it’s my favourite fic i’ve written thus far🥲

yes! i am currently writing quite a long best friends to lovers to ex’s college fic with seungmin!

it is part of the afterglow series! a lot of talented authors are writing/have written their fics that you should check out as well as they are all based off of songs!

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Star’s DC Masterlist (+18)

Genres/Tags-

Fluff (💕) Pregnancy (🍼)

Smut (🔞) Angst (⛓️) Suggestive (🔥)

Jason Todd

Drabbles -

• A Cozy Accident (🍼💕)

• Friday Night Entertainment (💕🔞)

• Impatience (🔞🔞)

• Overachiever (💕🔞)

• Move Night Gone Right (🔞🔞)

• Don’t Call Him Jealous (🔞🔞)

• Revive your Piece of Mind (💕⛓️)

• Repose (💕💕)

• Cold Gotham Weather (💕🔥)

• Menstruation Crustacean/Period HCs ( 🦀 💕)

• The Journal (TW: Suicide/⛓️⛓️)

• Do Not Imagine (⛓️⛓️)

• Innocent Possession (🔞🔞)

• Leather Weather (💕☕️)

• A Warm Hug (💕🫂)

• His Favorite Part of You (💕💕)

• Broody Behavior & Nutella Sandwiches (💕🥪)

• He’ll Show you how to Cut Onions (💕🧅)

• Grocery Shopping (💕🍨)

• Bath Time (💕🫧)

• Fresh From the Dryer (💕🫂)

• A Five Dollar Shake & A Proposal (💕💍)

• Freshly Cleaned Floors (💕🧹)

• Red Couch Potato (💕🥔)

• Midnight Blues (⛓️💕)

• Temptation of Chocolate Croissants (💕🔥)

• Cozy Kitchen Waltz (💕🫂)

• A Soft Night (💕🔞)

• Light Use of Laughing Gas (💕🦷)

• Afterglow Discussion (💕🔥)

• Chronic Pain (💕⛓️)

• Early Morning Surprise (🔥🔞)

• Thanksgiving with BatFam (💕🦃)

• The Book Cover (🔥🔞)

• Early Morning Nightcap (🔞🔞)

• A Compromise (⛓️🍼💕)

Finished Mini-Series -

• Low Rise Melancholy Pt.1 (⛓️💕)

• High Rise Melancholy Pt.2 (⛓️💕)

• Motivation Pt.1 (💕🍼)

• Sympathy for Breakfast Pt.2 (💕🍼)

• Ripping Clothes Off Pt.1 (🔥🔞)

• Ripping Clothes Off Pt.2 (🔞🔞)

Ongoing Series -

• Sheer Irony Pt.1 (⛓️💕)

• Mischievous Curiosities Pt.2 (🔥🔞)

• Dancing in the Dark Pt.3 (💕🔥🔞)

• Behind Blue Eyes Pt.4 (⛓️⛓️)

Dick Grayson

Drabbles -

• Date Night Blues (💕💕)

• Taking the Wheel (🔥🔞)

[bloatedandalone04]

Fluff → 💕 | Angst → 💋 | Smut → 🔥

All works are written by me and are not given consent to be reposted anywhere else other than my own account (reblogs are fine)

HEADCANONS ↡

Yandere Ethan 💕

Dating Ethan Landry would include: 💕 🔥

Ethan In Bed 🔥

IMAGINES ↡

Romance is (not) Dead 💕💋 💌

↦the one where ethan is your boyfriend and you’re his alibi. 

Needy 💕🔥

↦the one where ethan is desperate to get you all to himself. 

Lips of an Angel 💕💋

↦the one where ethan falls in love with you from the moment he saw you. 

The First Cut is the Deepest 💕💋🔥

↦the one where you break up then make up. 

A Dream of You and Me 💕

↦the one where ethan finally has an excuse to talk to you.

Tainted Heart 🔥

↦the one where you encourage ethan’s thirst for the kill.

Vintage T-Shirt 💕🔥

↦the one where you and ethan make out for the first time.

The End of Love 💋

↦the one where you break up but still love each other.

Kiss Full of Color 💕🔥

↦the one where you and ethan sleep together for the first time.

Ruin Our Friendship 💕🔥

↦the one where you’re friends and hook up at a party.

High off Love 💋

↦the one where ethan mistook your kindness for love.

I Can't Save Us 💋

↦the one where things go terribly wrong during the big reveal.

Out of Sight 💕🔥

↦the one where ethan can't keep his hands off you during a group dinner.

Songs I Play When I’m Alone 💕

↦the one where ethan makes you playlist of songs that remind him of you.

Afterglow 🔥

↦the one where ethan caves and helps you get off after teasing you for hours.

Million Dollar Boy 💕💋

➪the one where you’re the other ghostface and ethan accidentally hurts you.

The Love Drug 💕

➪the one where you and ethan get drunk and confess your feelings for one another.

Can I Be Him 💕

➪the one where anika and chad set you up.

MINI-SERIES ↡

Cry Me A River 💕💋  

↦the one where you cheat on chad with ethan.

Are You Gonna Be My Girl 💕🔥

↦the one where you hookup with ethan after an argument with chad. (prequel to CMAR)

[dilemmaontwolegs]

This Month: Sept/Oct 23

No fics planned: on holiday September/October. Please help yourself to my Masterlists for some entertainment in my absence 💕

Not A Verstappen: A New World {Three} {Four} {Five} A Step Too Far || CL16 Mistakes || CL16 Meet the Parents || LN4 Addicted || CS55 Chilly Chilli || CS55 Little Lion Man || MV1 & CL16 - Mafia AU We’ve Got Tonight || LN4 Declaration of Independence || LS2

Series Update Order: NAV: A New World Best Kept Secret on the Grid The Taste of Temptation

Taglist: RETIRED Head over to my dedicated library blog @dilemmaslibrary and opt to get notifications from there.

Requests: CLOSED Inbox Count: 152

Last Month: Aug 23

Not A Verstappen: Gridlocked {Four} {Five} {Six} {Seven} {Eight} {Nine} The Exception || LN4 Afterglow || CS55 The Taste of Temptation Snapshots || DR3 {One} {Two} {Three} {Four} {Five} {Six} The Best Kept Secret of the Grid {Four} Privacy || PG10 Romantic at Heart || DR3 Fallen || CL16 (Bonus Scene) Too Good {Prequel} || CL16 Transcending Time {3} || CL16 Not A Verstappen: A New World {One} {Two} The Taste of Temptation {Four} {Five} {Six} {Seven} Dead Man Walking || LN4 {Two} Your Safe Place || CL16 The Fine Line || LN Playboy || PG10 {Three} Best Friends Share Everything || LN4&CS55 Summer in the 305 || LS2 {Two} Bee Stings and Butterfly Kisses || SV5

[ms-oswald]

ocean eyes | chapter one

author's note: first chapter to my new Uhtred mini-series. This has some smut(ish), so MDNI please. My first attempt at focusing on Uthred and not gonna lie, this was tough but still fun. hopefully whoever reads this, you will enjoy :) thank you to @itbmojojoejo for being my beta reader 💜 banner credit to @arcielee! lots of love & stay safe 💕

      They were a long way from Cookham when Uhtred and his men arrived at their new settlement of Rumcofa. 

As they made their way through the open gates, they incited stares and whispers, the villagers wondering what troubles such intruders would bring to their quaint homes.  

People were on their guard while the boys provided them with polite smiles and nods at every eye and curious stares that came their way. 

They knew such an alteration would be an adjustment, that a warm welcome to warriors like themselves would take time to digest.  

For Uhtred, moving away from Cookham did not prove to be as hard as he thought.  

Bittersweet memories had been left behind, his attempt to ignore their claws grasping at his shadow. 

The loss of his wife years prior, the end of his affair with the Lady of Mercia – Cookham had bathed in ache, the crimson of its afterglow scarring him, body and soul.  

Rumcofa was a welcome change, he thought, needing the air to clear his mind and start anew. 

He did not care for the strategic significance of this move – whether it was Rumcofa or Cookham, Uhtred needed to be away from Wessex, and from Winchester.  

He was brought out of his thoughts when he halted, his horse by his side letting out a hefty breath. 

“And may I ask, who are ya?”  

His eyes settled on an older man, burly looking with his blond mustache thickening around his upper lip. The Danish accent heavy in his voice, he stood tall - the illusion hiding the slight shortness in his height – with his double-faced sledgehammer balanced between his hands. The stance for attack was at his toes, ready to use his weapon in potential combat. 

A faint snicker whispered behind Uhtred; from the sound of it, he knew his men were amused by the display in front of them.  

He took a quick look around before his eyes settled back on the blacksmith in front of him. “I am Uhtred of Bebbanburg.” He fixed his posture, placing his arms across his chest, his head slightly tilted sideways. “We have orders from the Lady of Aethelflaed that my men and I are to move here and oversee the village. I am to be the new Lord.” 

The Dane scoffed as he lowered his weapon, a smirk resting at the corner of his lips. “You’ll want to see the Lady of the village.” 

At his words, Finan leaned closer to his friend as he whispered, brows arched. “Are ya sure we’re in the right place, Uhtred?” 

The man ignored the Irishman’s comment, his gaze settling on confusion in front of the villager. “The Lady of Rumcofa?” 

The ears itching coincidentally, the woman in question had appeared in his view, her silhouette standing a few feet away from the Dane. 

It wasn’t the sight of strangers with their horses that left her breathless, nor was it the sight of her friend that seemed to have taken on the role of village protector that made her stop in her tracks. 

Her heart caught in her throat, latching on to dear life as her eyes focused on the main figure, her mind unconvinced of such reality. 

It was the grin on his face, the sound of his voice that traipsed across her body, shivering under her dress. 

The instinct settling itself into her nerves, a slight curve slid at the corner of her lips as a short breath finally escaped her. 

She had started walking towards the small hurdle of men, her voice reaching the boys with a breathy smile. “Well, if it isn’t Uhtred of Bebbanburg.” 

They turned towards the new sound; the man in question was left winded, the air knocked out of him in shock. He furrowed his brows, thinking his eyes might be deceiving him. 

“Cwen?” 

“Still alive, then?”  

Reaching them, she approached the blacksmith and gently placed her hand on his shoulder, quietly letting him know all was good and that she would care for the new guests.  

The Dane gave Cwen a nod before slowly walking away, leaving them be though not before disappearing without giving them warning crossing the brown in his eyes. 

Uncaring for it, Uhtred had spoken again with a soft chuckle slipping through at her welcoming words, his attention placed solely on the woman. “You look well.” He stepped forward and leaned in, his arms wrapping around her figure as he hugged her.  

The others, surprised at such unexpected familiarity, had remained quiet – simple observants.  

She had reciprocated the gesture, gently patting his back before pulling away. “And you look old.” 

Her remark got his men quietly sniggering behind their Lord. Uhtred turned to them, raising a brow at their reaction before looking back at Cwen, who was smiling from amusement at the little annoyance sprayed as a shadow across his face.  

Satisfied with herself, she pursued her little taunts, the jesting sparking up old flickers of residue from their past. “Word is, you are the new Lord of Rumcofa.”  

“I am.” Uhtred handed her a sealed parchment without another word, letting the letter speak for itself as Cwen opened it and started reading the content. 

She scoffed, her eyes meeting his again. “Her Ladyship couldn’t find another village for you to terrorize?” The sarcasm in her tone did not go unnoticed, leaving Uhtred to smile again, the rhythm of their exchange becoming a familiar routine for the ages. 

“It’s nice to see you again.” 

She gave him a grin. “You too, old friend.” The softness of the gesture left them to linger for a split second, forgetting for that moment where they stood. 

The interruption came from a little boy; he moved from where he stood next to Finan and partially hid behind Uhtred as he gazed upwards at the two adults, curiosity picking at him.  

She glanced at the boy before tilting her head up to her friend. “Your son?” Without looking away, Uhtred rested his hand on the child’s head. “My ward.” 

Cwen frowned, playfully skeptical of the painting in front of her; she bent down, meeting the little one at his eye level. “And what is your name, darling?” 

Unsure, the boy looked up to the man next to him for permission to speak. With a simple nod from Uhtred, he met Cwen’s gaze, his voice soft and timid. 

“Aethelstan.” 

She gave a friendly beam to the shy boy. “A good, strong name. I like it.” Her compliment made him smile, his timidity silently reaching his cheeks as he leaned closer towards Uhtred.  

Cwen leaned closer, whispering secretive words to the boy, away from grown-ups' ears; Uhtred watched the interaction, a soft curious smile reaching him. 

A moment later, she pulled away from him as he nodded to her. She shared a childish wink and lightly poked his nose – a simple tap of her fingertip, earning a chuckle as the child remained attentive to her. 

Ruffling the boy’s hair as she stood back up, Cwen eyed Uhtred. “I wonder what you slipped in her Ladyship’s water for you to have become Lord of this place.” 

Finan let out a choked cough, his breath stuck in his throat at the woman’s sudden comment – the hidden undertone only understood by him and his friend.  

Unfamiliar with the look in Uhtred’s eyes, Cwen moved on and leaned sideways, greeting the rest of the men that quietly stood by their horses. “Hi, boys.” She then shifted her eyes back to her friend. “Wards of yours as well, Lord?” She bore a teasing smirk, the sided upward curve of her lips making the Saxon smile again. 

She quickly followed by looking back at his men. “You can take the horses to the stable boy, and he’ll take care of them while you get acquainted with the village.” She turned to Uhtred once again, already taking a step back. “You, come with me.” 

He did as told and went her way while Finan and the rest went in the opposite direction. 

By her side, he followed her and looked around, taking in the sight of villagers going on about their businesses while children were carefree and running around, playing with each other.  

She let him be for a moment, watching him before looking in front of her again.  

“Have you ever overseen a village before?” 

Tilting his head to his left, he glanced at her before turning away again. “I have.”  

“A village with people, right? Not just an empty patch of mud and grass?” The sided coy look, the sarcasm enlaced in her tone made him chuckle. 

“Yes.” He turned his head again to her, leaving her to do the same as they stopped in their steps. “We were in Cookham for a long time. People liked me there.”  

She softly snickered, a slight snort catching up to her. “Sure. I’ll get those testimony myself if you don’t mind.” With a mischievous wink, she had started walking again, taking steps backwards as he watched her while shaking his head, amused.  

Turning back around, the lightness surrounding them had lowered slightly, though not completely as to dampen the mood. “How long has it been? Since we last saw each other?” She had asked, nostalgia slowly filling as blood cells in her body. 

He did not think long about her inquiry, not having the heart to answer with the truth. “It’s been way too long.” 

“Mhmm.” A small huff from her, parted as a snicker. She then pivoted to him, her tone into her words meant to be light. “You are only saying that to flatter me, Uhtred.” Looking away, her eyes unfocused on the path in front of them as they kept going, almost reaching the finishing point. “I have not crossed your mind since you left. Do not lie.” 

He did not sense anything somber in her pitch, which was what she was going for. She had not been one for sentimentality, trying to portray herself with a more playful demeanor than bereavement. 

Especially to him. 

Knowing him from their past, or at least the younger version of him – the arrogant, restless, fierce, and at times, slightly egotistic Uhtred – was not helping though, his presence stirring a part of her she had buried long ago. 

They had only met after the battle of Edington; losing Iseult to Skorpa, that period of his life, of his youth, had turned hazy due to his grief.  

And so, Cwen’s words were not a lie. Or almost, he believed.  

She might not have been in his everyday thought, and he might have forgotten about her over the years, but the second he saw her again, the second he heard her voice and laid eyes on her – she had not left him, he had noticed, knocking the air out of his chest.  

It was mouth to mouth resuscitation. 

She brought him out of his thoughts, her remarks letting out a deep breath from his lungs.  

“I do not say that to make you feel bad.” A sympathetic smile across her features, she continued. “You are not the only one who’s forgotten us. You were not very memorable.” 

“I did not plague your dreams, then?” Laced with mirth, he eyed her with a little glint discernable in his eyes. 

She played along, always up for a little bit of jest. “Actually, just this once.” She pretended to go deep in thought, her lips pursing in response. “More of a nightmare though.” 

Uhtred arched his brow, curious and waiting for her follow up. 

She lingered in silence a little bit longer – a split second that seemed to dwell forever. She then bit her bottom lip, proceeding to tease her friend. “You had become Lord of a village. It was horrible!” 

Laughing at her words, she watched and quietly followed suit, content with such response at her attempt at humor.  

They reached the hall, Uhtred’s new house, with the place almost empty apart from a handful of people who were sitting in the main room, drinking and making conversation.  

He watched them, quizzical; Cwen sensed he wanted to speak of what they encountered and so, she intervened, softly speaking to him. “Do not worry. Now that you are here, they will not be coming back.” 

She silently greeted the men at the table as she guided Uhtred inside, showing him around. A sigh left her, small – almost soundless.  

He could see, she had come down from her playful behavior and looked to her, intrigued. 

She chewed the inside of her cheek, trying to bring herself to glance at him in a more serious manner. She had still been on edge, masked by their backchat, unwilling yet to completely trust him. 

“Uhtred...” She looked for words, the pensive look she bore making him wonder what could have changed between them. “This may not be the home you dreamed of, but it is for the people here. So, please, do care for this village as you did with Cookham and as you would have with Bebbanburg.” 

He remained still, his gaze unwavering as he examined her.  

She had been wary, and it was clearly written across her face.  

He could not decipher if discomfort had run him down, or maybe it was her hues staring right back at him as if she looked for the soul that hid behind his own eyes.  

He silently nodded, glancing quickly around him before turning to her once again. “I promise, I will care for this place.” 

She remained still for a second, taking in his words – the sincerity splayed across his tongue. 

“Mhmm.” She nodded as well, taking a step away from him, her arms behind her back. “I’ll be watching you, Lord.” Emphasizing on the last word had brought back the lighter air, her mocking him with his title, giving him back the upward curves of her lips. 

She turned around and walked away, leaving him to chuckle to himself as he watched her go, his blue eyes lingering on her figure until she was out of sight. 

      “She must have been something...” 

Weeks had passed since Uhtred and his men settled in their new home, taking the reins of overseeing the village – from its people to the borders surrounding the land. 

Though things were quiet, peaceful and content even, Cwen remained on her toes, cautious of his presence; she had been paying close attention to him, watching from afar and exchanging quips and words from time to time, but on the occasions they were distant, she kept her eyes on him – on guard. 

She did not mind the others as they did not seem to have whatever affliction was hitting their Lord, leaving them to be merry on their own and bring some enjoyment around them. 

But for some reason, Uhtred had been the one she could not settle on – whatever hung above him had created dreaded heaviness in her chest. 

And so that’s how she found him, sipping on his ale in front of his fireplace watching the flames dance to the percussing sounds of their crackles.  

To her voice, he turned his head to her. “Who?”  

She took a step closer, gently closing the door behind her. 

“The woman who broke your heart.” 

He turned away, shifting in his seat as he leaned against the back of his chair.  

“What makes you think a woman broke my heart?” 

He had been mourning the end of his relationship with Aethelflaed, his mind overwhelmed by the events leading up to their separation. He had been silent about it – grieving in the dark, not realizing his ache was visible to the people around him.  

“You have that look in your eyes.” 

He huffed, not caring for the intrusion; he turned his head again to her, showing her the slight bothersome gaze he wore. “It is none of your business.” 

She sucked in a breath, rolling her eyes, she looked up at the ceiling, her hands on her hips in annoyance. She then turned to him again with a soft scowl, her head falling slightly sideways. “It is when you are scaring the villagers with that face of yours.” 

For the true nature of her visit, she had received grievances. Words dripped in bourgeoning fear as people came to see her about him, revealing their hesitancy to make contact with the man, partially afraid of him; whatever gripped at him, Uhtred could not see it had been affecting his day to day, his state visible through his mannerism and facial stance. 

She ran her fingers through her hair, sighing as she took a seat next to him; he had been staring at her, not understanding her complaint. 

She softened, gentle for him. “I understand the pain of heartbreak. I know what it does to someone.” She turned to face the fire, unable to meet his gaze just as he caught her profile, her skin timidly glowing against the light. She gathered her breath and spoke again. “Just... don’t let it affect your duty as Lord.” She tilted her head to her right, catching sight of his blues. “You have people who need you, who depend on you to be the lead of their village.”  

He could only nod, agreeing with her words. He took another sip of his ale with his eyes falling onto the cup as he remained silent.  

She let out another breath and stood up, her steps already leading her to the exit. 

“She must have been one hell of a woman...” 

She lingered, slightly leaning against the door as she gave Uhtred one last glance.  

“She is.” His response was somber, nostalgic. He did not turn her way, unable to look at her; he did not have the strength to be held by her gaze.  

Instead, he kept staring at his fire as he followed the flames’ routine, an intimate dance meant just for him. 

He was hurting and it broke her heart.  

She did not push, not wanting to disturb his tormented peace.  

Instead, she quietly walked out, gently closing the door behind her before making her way back to her home, contemplative. 

      The hassle of the people had become background noise as Uhtred and Cwen walked, with the Lady adding insight to the comings and goings of the trades happening by the edge of the village. 

His ears were tickling at the sound of her voice, the vibration seeping through and warmly coating his insides; he chased for it, taking in every single way the words would spill out of her, the syllables smoothly running down her tongue and painting her lips.  

He found himself smiling as he listened to her guide him on the workarounds of the trades happening by the port, the names of the people passing through knowingly spoken by the sweetness in throat. 

Over time, they had been growing closer.  

Cwen took notice of Uhtred’s behavioral change; he had been trying to put his grief behind, sealing his heart tightly against his chest.  

He held his head high, holding his promise to her and wanting to prove he could be counted on, not just as a warrior, but also as a Lord who people could turn to in times of need – as he had been in Cookham. 

As for that night, the subject was never brought up again. Cwen did not push on it, out of irritating him, as well as out of disinterest in the matter. 

But even though she believed he was putting in an effort, it had not stopped the thoughts at the back of her mind, pushing her to remain guarded by his side. She still lent a hand where she could, the villagers still regarding her as their Lady, ignoring the mismatch between the title and her person. 

Uhtred did not mind it; it was fitting to her persona, and found he enjoyed calling her this way – the first time he did, in jest, he had noticed the way her cheeks blushed, her skin turning a shade of red from shyness. 

“You tease too much, Uhtred!”  

“I apologize, Lady.” He was holding back his laughter, loving her fluster. She hit him, a simple slap across his chest, unable to contain her own cackles, making him smile as well. “Stop it!” 

This might have been the moment that changed things between them. 

They could not tell. 

Either way, he tried ignoring whatever sentiment gnawed at him from her presence – for fear of loss again, his heart had decided.  

It proved difficult though, unbeknownst to him. Even sealed in the dark, wanting to remain away from experiencing amorous grief all over again, wonder pricked at him the way a rose pricks at your finger; it had not hurt, but curiosity was holding its own, desperate for some shade under the light. 

They were now standing at the top of the tower overlooking the river. Cwen had been detailing the when’s and where’s from each present boat that lied underneath them; she had not realized Uhtred earned some of the knowledge of Rumcofa’s trade through Finan, the Irishman having studied the routes as well. 

He did not want to interrupt her – so he let her be, staring at her as his subconscious mind shadowed the movements of his hues while they followed her silhouette, observing the way her soft blond locks flowed with the gentle autumn breeze, the way her tongue would subtly lick her lips for refreshment, or how her fingers would pick at her sleeves, pulling them to cover her palms while she had been facing the waters, names of traders spoken with delight.  

His icy blues remained stuck to her, a soft smile picking up at the corner of his lips – unknowingly. 

She leaned against the wooden railing with her arms stretched out as she looked ahead, enjoying the way the light puff of wind gently traipsed through her hair – increasing the floral scent that danced around her. It caught Uhtred’s breath, leaving him to deeply inhale, the fragrance coating his inside in pure contentment. 

His eyes, unfaltering, followed the form of her dress, taking in the subtle ways the thick dark green linen hugged her; it had been mended, noticing the seam along the sleeve of her inner arm. 

“You are not married?” He already knew the answer to his question, as he had not seen her attached to another man since his arrival, nor did he think she was promised to another, his eyes keeping to the gentle re-work of her dress, the different color thread laced intricately and subtly into the existing fabric.  

He could not understand why he was pushed to ask her such an inquiry. 

From the small horizon, she turned her head to him, a mellowing smile to her lips. “No, Lord.” 

The question did not seem to faze her, he thought. But her answer only pushed him into wanting to know more. “I think my father gave up all hope of having me married.” 

He frowned, curious. “What happened?” 

She tugged the inside of her lip, a smirk forming across. She pivoted to lay her back against the railing with her elbows resting on top while turning her head back to him. 

“I bite.” 

He let out a small chortle, making her grin – she had grown used to hearing the quiver of laughter in his voice, not realizing she had grown attached to it, warmth settling across her chest at the sound of it. 

He approached her, leaning sideways against the edge of the tower, his expression softening. “And your mother? Is she faring well?” 

He had not seen the other woman, making him wonder if she had remained in Cetreht with only Cwen moving to Rumcofa. He remembered his initial encounter with her mother, the woman having quickly grown fond of him – which not all Saxon women had. Cwen’s mother had been one of the rare exceptions where she used to push her daughter to him as a prospect wife. 

Her smile faded, avoiding his stare as she looked in front of her, her eyes reaching the village. “She... passed on a few years ago.” Her shoulders slightly depleted as a heavy breath escaped her. “With my siblings away with their own families, I am the only one left.” 

“No children, then?” He did not mean to pry, but he wanted to know more, to re-discover a lost friendship that had been pushed into the mud long ago. She may have had a child tucked somewhere in the village he had yet to meet, he thought. She could still be holding some parts of her life secrets to him, secrets for her to keep her own. 

“No. Not for me.” Relief might not have been what he felt, but he let a sigh out. Silent to her ears, she gave him a sympathetic smile before she pushed herself to stand up, taking the downwards steps to leave the tower. 

As they reached the bottom, he was about to speak again when they got interrupted by another woman looking for her. 

“Cwen!” The intruder was almost out of breath, her feet having forced her into a run. “It’s time!” 

Before Cwen got the chance to answer, Uhtred intervened, standing taller – his stature almost imposing to both ladies. “I am Lord here. Anything that needs assistance, I can take care of.” 

The Danish woman stared at Uhtred, growing impatient. “Sorry, Lord, but I do not think you can help with this one.” 

Cwen was restraining a snicker as she stood in the middle, watching the duo close to battling it out.  

Uhtred eyed his friend before looking back to the other woman. “Why do you require Cwen, then?” 

Cwen looked at the woman. “Ingrith, you can tell him.” She spoke with an amused grin on her face, holding back her laughter.  

Ingrith sighed, looking towards Uhtred. “We need a midwife.” She spoke with a straight face. “We have a woman in labor, and she has requested Cwen’s presence. Unless you know how to birth a child, Lord, I believe you are not required for such task.” 

Uhtred’s face dropped, slightly embarrassed while Cwen giggled again. He tried not to let Ingrith’s words rough him up and instead looked back at Cwen, swallowing his fluster. “You are excused.” 

She was still grinning, her voice sweetly speaking his name. “Thank you, Uhtred.”  

She started walking away, giving him one more head turn his way. “Later, then?” She had sounded hopeful, almost. 

He nodded and watched her as she took Ingrith’s arm in her own and left, both ladies laughing between themselves. 

Uhtred had not moved, entranced by Cwen as she gave him another last look, a simple glance as she tilted her head before disappearing to the other side of the walls. 

“Everything alright?” Finan having left the traders and found his friend, stood next to him, following the line of vision the other man was plagued with. 

“Yes, just a birth.” 

Finan frowned, paying closer attention to the other woman. “Who’s the lady with Cwen?” 

Uhtred eyed him, a look of surprise on his face. “Has someone finally caught your eye, Finan?” 

The Irishman chuckled, shaking his head. “I could say the same to you.” He patted him on the back, knowing Uhtred had grown smitten with Cwen.  

      “Sulking again, I see?” She was leaning against the entrance to his home, finding him sitting in front of a warm fire, ale in his hand. 

He smiled at the sound of her voice, the softness of her words sweeping gently through his ears. 

He did not answer her question – instead, he turned to her, changing the subject. “How is she?” 

“She is well. Just tired, as any woman would be.” Night had fallen by the time Cwen helped deliver the newborn. The village was quiet, safe for the household that welcomed the baby into their home. 

It had been an arduous delivery, but the results had been worth it. 

“And the babe?” 

Cwen smiled, appreciative of the care he placed in his queries. “The babe is well. A healthy baby boy.” 

Uhtred acknowledged her answer with a nod before he turned and leaned against the back of his chair. 

Carefully closing the door behind her, she quietly approached him, taking a seat by his side before pouring herself a cup. 

He did not mind her presence – feeling a little better already. Tension would wash away whenever they were near; she had turned out to become one of the very few people he kept close to his heart. 

“Uhtred.” The way his name spilled out, cautiously and caringly – as if she was afraid to break him; he kept it, already carrying it within him, the letters to her cords tied to his ribcage. 

He met her gaze, noticing the worry etched across her features. “Do you want to win her back?” 

A sadness across his lips, he felt his heart squeeze just a little bit at the thought of Aethelflaed. 

He sighed, his head falling against the top of his seat. “I cannot... She has...” 

She quickly caught on, the syllable of his response striking her like lightning, the realization of his loss reaching the pit of her stomach. “She did not choose you.” 

He tried to hold his lips upwards. “Something like that.” But she could see he was only doing it for her, as if he was attempting to hide behind it – like a shield. 

“I am sorry.” She looked away, her mind swirling in front of the hearth while her fingers traced the cup that rested on her lap.  

She was lost in thought, trying to find ways to lift his spirits.  

She did not know who this woman was, but she swore to herself that if they ever crossed path, she would not be so gentle towards her. A bitter aftertaste had simmered at the back of her throat to that imagery. 

Cwen did not understand the strange feeling that boiled in her; unfamiliar and bothersome, she tried to let it go, her focus placed on the feel of her fingers against her cup. 

She bit the inside of lip, speaking once again where her soft voice carried intimately within their space. “Have you thought about being with someone else?” 

The puzzling look on his face pushed her to proceed with what infested her mind. 

“I don’t mean giving your heart or to marry, even.” A small sigh left her as she leaned against her seat, gripping tightly onto the ale on her lap. “But to share your bed with another woman. To ease the suffering of your grief and simply find yourself some enjoyment.” 

He fixated on her, taken aback by her words. He placed his cup on the table behind him, before tilting back to Cwen.  

“It is not often Saxon women tell men to hump whoever they please.” He sported a smirk on his face as he spoke, inciting a chuckle on her end. She got up from her seat, placing the mug back on the table, ready to leave – the grin unable to leave her cheeks. “I did not mean to pry. It is just...” 

A small huff of laughter escaped her, cringing to herself as she pinched her nose bridge, regretting bringing up such a subject. 

She took a moment, all the while Uhtred watching her patiently – he found it too amusing, relishing in the way she seemed to be looking for tact in such conversation.  

“Have you seen the way the women in the village look at you? Married or not, they are all wanting to climb you.” Her arms crossed over her chest, she was leaning on her hip, imitating the way his lips curved into a smirk – picking up on his enjoyment of the situation. 

He tempted his chance, the way she phrased her words pushing him to his feet. 

His figure – looking taller than usual, she thought, loomed over her despite the distance that separated them. He did not give up the sly grin on his face, pursuing the conversation. “And what of you? Do you want to climb me as you so eloquently said?” 

She suddenly felt unable to swallow. Her throat dried as his eyes intently stared at her, leaving her frozen in her spot.  

She cursed herself at her inability to leave, as if he had been holding her by a rope, tying her to him. She was taken by the way he seemed to have lowered the levity of their talk, everything shifting to a more serious undertone. 

If there was a woman he would tempt Fate with, it would be with her. It was ringing in his ears, his want of her growing by the day, his need to have her close etching itself right between his ribs – like a stomach hungry, desperate for nourishment. 

She rolled her eyes, attempting to hide her blushing cheeks. She had been denying the way she felt for him, the way her body would silently call out for him, in an attempt to fall under lustful bliss. 

The smugness on his face was not helping her; the teasing smile made her heart flutter. 

Approaching her, Cwen tilted her head upwards as he towered over her. 

The air grew thicker by the second, her lungs begging to grasp what it could as it laid heavy under her chest. 

It had been the way he stared at her – how the blues of his irises tightly wrapped around her, like furs keeping her warm, lowering any inhibition that could ignite – inciting a bold response to roll down her tongue, while grasping onto the fallen threads of the playfulness of their exchange. 

“I don’t climb, Lord. Men usually do the lifting for me.” 

“They do?” 

“Or women, if you prefer.” He chuckled, taken by the matter-of-fact light tone she had chosen. “I tend to be swept off my feet.” 

She had no expectation from him for her words; it should have continued as their regular banter, the swift back and forth between them. 

“Like this?” The tone of his voice dropped, the vibration pulling her seductively. 

She did not realize how close he had gotten; his breath swept against her own as his eyes cast downwards towards her, inspecting every spec of the darker blue that colored her orbs. She lost her breath for a moment, unable to comprehend the unraveling of steps as they overtook her, controlling the strings attached to her veins running across her body. 

He lifted her up and wrapped her legs around him before sitting back down, placing her on his lap with her legs by his sides, her toes grazing the ground. 

The tip of his nose brushed against hers, a tickle to her skin as her breath stuttered.  

Slowly grasping at reality, she frowned while trying to catch up in the race between her body, her mind and her heart; all elements moving at separate speeds.  

“Uhtred...” She was uncertain, her heart beating loudly between her ears, she could barely hear herself think. She tried focusing on her breathing, but all that she could do was take in the way his hands felt on her waist, his fingers digging into her as he observed her, waiting for her to speak.  

She placed her hands on his chest, a silent motion to stop him – though, it might have been to stop herself. 

“Am I really the woman you want to share your bed with?” Gathering her courage, she finally looked him in the eyes, the icy shade of his hues leaving her breathless. “There are better options in the whole of this place-” His hands trailed up her back until he cupped her cheeks, his thumb softly grazing her bottom lip. She tried to ignore the gesture, forcing her voice to push beyond her tongue. “I can introduce you to-”  

He cut her off by leaning to capture her lips, silently answering her question and sweeping the air out of her lungs into his own. 

She did not push him back, nor did she pull away to stop. 

She was slowly succumbing to the feel of his lips gliding against her own, the feel of him pressed against her, her body growing warmer by the second.  

A soft frown rested across her face as confusion settled under her chest; lips lingered against one another until she finally slowly pulled away from him, her limbs starving. 

Rendered speechless, she could only feel the flavor of him numbing her tongue as a bittersweet aftertaste. 

They did not move, as if suspended, the strings of gravity pulling and tugging at each other for closeness. 

She leaned her forehead to his, her gaze on his lips. 

She then quietly licked her own before tilting closer until he caught up to her, kissing her fervently. 

His hands wandered her body, retracing the curves hiding under her clothes. The strength of his hold weakened her knees; imagining the ways he could embrace her against him, the ways he could make her enfold within him, fitting every part to one another, had made her dizzy. The thoughts generated a soft moan between tongues, a need to make them come true overtaking her senses. 

With a mind of their own, her fingers reached for his shirt, tugging at the fabric as they pulled him closer, the rumbling of hunger tremoring at the tip. 

They stopped once again, heavy breathing escaping them both.  

She took this moment to remove his shirt, leaving his upper body bare. 

Her fingers rested on his cheeks, tracing down to his lips and further down, looking over the scars he had accumulated over the years. 

She bit down her bottom lip, swollen, as pictures of battles crossed her mind in a race.  

She was brought out of thought when she felt him tugging at her dress; his hands on her shoulders, he pulled down the fabric gently, her sleeves uncovering her arms until she sat exposed to him. 

A chill ran down her spine from the tepid air in the room, the fire burning her back.  

The softening beige of her locks rested around her shoulders, caressing the swell of her breasts. He gazed at her, making her hold her breath in wait, unable to read him. Would he reject her? Want her less?  

Without turning away, his knuckles grazed her skin, leaving her to silently shudder under his touch, her lips parted. 

Uhtred wrapped his arms around her, pulling her upwards before he leaned against her upper body, his lips wetting her chest as he placed teasing kisses along and across her breasts. 

Her head fell back at the sensation, grabbing onto him as his teeth nibbled in the valley between, as if to mark her as his. 

Her scent intoxicated him – the soft floral aroma, the hinted mint interlaced with roses, had left him lingering, breathing her in with all his might as he savored every inch he could taste. She shivered under his tongue, adding to his delight.  

He then reached her collarbone, his teeth gently clashing against the bone underneath her skin. She hissed in response just as he softly tickled her, placing peppered kisses along her shoulders. 

He gathered her hair to one side of her neck, swiftly and quietly, and buried his face in, caressing her skin with every press of his mouth to the pinching of his teeth – famished. 

She sighed, the warmth growing in the pit of her stomach, inch by inch.  

She closed her eyes, focusing on the way he toyed with the column of her neck; being held so close to him, with the friction between their bare chests, how slowly he moved – he enjoyed the slight torture he was putting her through, feeling her impatience slowly growing as it crawled through her blood stream, pumping her vessels with haste. 

He repeated the motion on the other side, pushing her locks away before he nestled against her neck again, cherishing her. 

She hung onto him with her nails biting into his back, softly sighing into the air by his side; her sense of smell heightened, tasting the hint of marjoram – the mild mint and the sweetening woody scent – at the tip of her tongue, thirst budding in her mouth. 

Sitting on his lap, her legs parted on each side of him – in retaliation, she teased him, pressing herself further against him. She earned another nip at her neck, his muted groaned masked behind his teeth. She rolled her hips again, a simple faint movement that made his throat rumble, his muscle twitch in want. 

His hand wandered to her hair, gently grabbing a handful from the back of her head, pulling away to look at her; meeting her gaze, he was stricken by the way her eyes swallowed him. 

He was caught by the depth of her pupils, unable to turn away – enthralled by such a palette. 

He could swim through these waters, drown in them and still feel like he was floating, the drops hydrating his scarred flesh anew. 

The silence behind her eyes, the desire imbued across every wave, had taken the air out of his lungs, his chest unmoving at the sight. 

The ache, emergent, hastened his movements; letting go of her hair, he went for her dress, hiking her skirt from the bottom while he remained glued to her, his stare unwavering. Resting it around her hips, her thighs were now exposed to his touch. 

A stuttered breath left her to the feeling of his warm palms on her while thoroughly rubbing her skin; movements to ensure she remained carved into his hands. 

She noticed a coy glimmer in his blues; she reached for them, her fingertips softly tracing them before leaning to press her forehead against his, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.  

She was parched for his lips, the taste of them having lingered like a craving unable to be sated. His lower lip between her teeth, she gave a light tug before kissing him, catching his breath with the air of his lungs weakening her knees. 

In a trance, relishing in the gluttonous caress of his tongue with her own, she had not felt the tightening grip to her body. 

He rolled her hips, wanting to toy with her in reprisal from just a few moments earlier; she gasped at the sensation, her mouth apart between his, her eyes attached to his own with yearning stitched within her hues.  

He repeated the movement, controlling the motion sensuously as his fingers dug into her flesh. He then pulled her in again, tugging at her mane as he kissed her fervently, her chest pressed firmly against his as his other arm was wrapped around her waist, holding her in place, his muscles molded into her back. 

Nestling in his embrace, she reached for the curve of his jaw, her nails faintly scratching his cheeks with her thumbs retracing his lips. She hung onto him, the chafing of their bodies causing her to shiver as he rolled her hips – firmer than the last, hungrier. 

A breathless moan fell into his mouth, her jaw slack as he repeated the motion, chasing his own incipient pleasure, the claws scraping at the base of his spine; it was the reaction stitched across her features, the wanton look on her face that left him besotted.  

Her fingertips traipsed down his chest as she slightly pulled away from him. Reaching his breeches, she started unlacing them while keeping her eyes on him – he followed her with a locked gaze, unmoving. 

Freeing her from his hold, he reached for her hands, leaving her to think he would aid in her quest. 

Instead, he caressed them before sliding his palm forward, hiding under the scrunched-up skirt that laid around her hips. 

An instant gasp out of her lungs, the feel of his callous fingers nestled between her thighs with his left hand placed at the junction of her pelvis. 

He was toying with her, the fluttered touch grazing her warmth as he watched her intently, taking in every single trait of pleasure that echoed across her face. 

Her knuckles whitened as they held onto the laces of his pants, her strength ready to break them from their confine. The lump in her throat remained stuck, her vocal cords silently shaking at the heat that seeped from his touch. 

He held onto his willpower with all his might, wanting first to have her crumble under him, to taste first such divinity coating his digits. He slid in deeper, his thumb circling her apex while his finger stroked her wantonly; her head fell on his shoulder as her hips chased for his strokes, instinctively rolling her body against him. He lingered in his pacing, purposely, famished by the soft whimpers that left her mouth for his ears – silently begging him, pleading for relief. 

And the more he could hear her, the more her faint voice – the musical strings tying him with every note infused into his veins, blood pumping and coursing with quickened steps – had been inebriating him, impatience was flourishing, its bones and flesh taking hold as it stirred restless in the pit of his stomach.  

He nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck, nipping at her skin and breathing her in; her scent incited a soft groan hidden behind his throat, increasing his pace as he stroked her continuously in such a way her knees were starting to shake – he felt her tremble against him and it only hardened his resolve, to have her fall apart at his touch, to be the reason she needed relief, to watch her and know he was the cause of such desperation. 

With whatever strength resided in her, she started undoing his trousers; she pulled her head away from him, her gaze cast down towards her actions. Glancing at the way his hand and wrist remained concealed under her dress made her shudder, stopping for a moment as her teeth slightly took in her lower lip. She met his gaze again, trying to fall back into focus while his tantalizing ministrations steadied at a now faster pace, the smirk ghostly settling across his face. 

He felt himself slowly unraveling, simmering from the bottom as his body grew warmer against her.  

He was ready to quit mid-task, simply wanting to undress and take her, to feel her take him and melt at her touch. 

She struggled to voice any sort of comprehensible words – she went for his mouth, his lips clashing with hers as she kissed him again, the gesture feeding into the thrill residing between her thighs. The look of concentration on her face, taking in the way his fingers grazed and curled inside her, shook at the back of her throat as they reached for her moans over and over again.  

He swallowed her sound, the euphoric sob warmly settling under his bones. 

A chill then ran up her legs, the sudden loss of contact forcing his name out of her mouth in complaint. 

Her chest expanded from her heavy breaths, a frown ghosting over her brows as she fell into his eyes.  

Uhtred said nothing as his fingers – slick, moved away from her; another whimper left her from annoyance, void intruding and unwanted. 

Stare locked in, she was stuck into the blue of his eyes as her body moved to his whim, his hand resettling her on his lap. His pants had slid down far enough to feel her wet and dripping above him, skin to skin. 

They did not look away from each other as the air thickened around them – opaque in its composition; labored breaths grew, his fingers digging into her hips with a slow shift.  

He used his strength to slightly lift her up until he was guiding her back to his lap as she sunk onto him, ever so slowly. 

She grabbed the back of his chair, her nails grasping at the wood as shivers ran down her spine, the air in her lungs dancing into her chest.  

Her mouth ajar, voiceless, to every sweet inch she could take. The soft groan rumbling at the edge of his throat had only added to the overwhelmed sensation that struck her.  

And he had watched her, enamored by the way she was blissfully taking him, by the way his name had finally reached her lips again – pronounced with longing etched across her tongue. The tremors of her muscles echoed, leaving him to feel every spec of raised skin against his, from the way her breasts stroked his chest, to the way her thighs had tightened on his sides, clutching at her seat. 

Joint hips, he stilled, shuddering under her touch as her arms gathered around him, gently caressing the nape of his neck; he whispered her name, the sound inciting control over her body.  

They were catching their breaths, the suspense of imminent ecstasy nipping at their flesh.  

The minute had hung in the air, in wait – Cwen needed her moment, her limbs adjusting to his presence, to the way he was buried inside her. The pinch of discomfort had faded, heat coiling under her ribs, trapped and dissipating ferociously throughout her blood stream in perfervid greed. 

Uhtred caressed her, gingerly pushing her locks away from her face. She leaned into his touch, kissing the heel of his palm, her teeth grazing the skin – slowly, lingering almost. His fingers lost in her hair, he pulled her in and captured her lips with his own, laying claim to her in an unbridled manner. 

Feeling her throb around him, he was gentle at first as he started thrusting. The rhythm of her hips, rolling – moving in want – was but a taste, a flicker of ember before the fire was set ablaze. A stuttered moan whispered under her breath, rushed an electrical spark to course through his veins, heating his skin with beads of sweat coating his body. 

He was merciful, giving her what she was desiring as he controlled her hips; he was hypnotized by the way her body fitted with his – every muscle knitted together in such sweet harmony – by the way she was taking him, her soft cries thrumming under his chest, rushing down to him.  

Unabashed, he whispered dirty nothings in her ear. The muttering of his words, as he declared how perfectly she molded around him, how enraptured he was by the warmth set between their hips, how starved she was for him – coaxed her teeth into his shoulder, her body shifting accordingly as she gradually hastened her pace, the percussion of his voice leaving her flushed and breathless. 

In response, her tongue was only capable of whispering his name repeatedly, a mantra stuck at the back of her throat as every letter to his lustful lullaby coming out of his mouth came to her in waves. 

The rawness of the act, the unadulterated pleasure seeping to their core – she cursed under her breath, her head falling backwards; she was overwhelmed, her mind clouded by the way he was stripping down her senses. 

She clenched around him at the feel of his fingers finding their way back to her, squirming under her skirt. The added pressure faltered her movements for a moment, getting re-acquainted with the way he toyed with her pearl; her pupils blown, rapture pulsing erratically in her gut, scratched into the marrow of her bones for sweet release. 

Her gaze fixated on him, his icy blues captured her in a haze, in complete wonder. Two oceans collided, dancing side by side as the soft waves wrapped them in a waltz, the caring movements gliding through seamlessly. 

Swallowed into each other’s shades, submerged under the depth of such color, he found himself never tiring at the way she was looking at him. 

Into the months he had settled in Rumcofa, he had stopped denying the way he felt about her – how attracted he had grown to become. He cared for her despite still loving Aethelflaed. 

She would always be holding a part of him, but the woman in his arms, the one that clung to him for dear life as they chased joint ecstasy, had been plaguing his mind since arriving in the village – and he was not good at hiding it. Finan had teased him whenever he caught his friend making coquettish glances at Cwen. For Uhtred, it was not thought about it much – the gazes having intricately become part of their dynamic. 

Yet tonight, drinking her ocean eyes into his own, drinking the cries of pleasure that rippled through their bodies, he wondered if it was time to truly move on from his past, to hang on to the woman who could give him what he wanted. 

Peace and companionship. 

      The growing winter sun was reaching him, pulling him out of his slumber.  

He stretched his arm towards the other side of the bed in the hopes of pulling her back against him. 

He found it empty instead.  

It woke him up. 

He saw the void next to him and pushed himself up, resting on his elbows as he looked around his room; her clothes were nowhere in sight. 

A routine that had been ongoing for the past few weeks – Cwen had taken the habit of waking up early and sneaking out of Uhtred’s home, not wanting to spark gossip amongst the villagers. 

Such a dance had to remain private, an intimate affair between the two friends. 

From the crack of dawn to nightfall, the steps to their serenade had secrecy involved – from the illusion of normalcy in the public eye, pretending as if no strings tied them together, as if Uhtred had not spent the better part of the previous night with his head between her thighs, in the throes of sweet euphoria. 

And as much as they tried to remain subtle, as much as they tried to stay away, tempting danger with lingering stares and knowing looks shared from a distance, subtle smiles hiding behind their cheeks – the false imagery did not go unnoticed to their closest allies. 

And as much for their attempt to remain in the dark, for their relationship resuming only behind closed doors – as much as Uhtred and Cwen cared for one another, their hearts were kept at bay, unable to fully crumble under the weight of their emotions. 

The companionship at their feet was all it was – two people seeking warmth in each other’s embrace, away from the loneliness that pried into their daily lives while ignoring the faint screams singing in the back of their minds. 

They were content with how things were – it was meant to stay easy, matters of the heart to be caged away under their bones. 

But for Cwen, a shadow gnawed at her, unable to hide the way his heartbreak tore at her now that she was sharing his bed – it was worry filling her, frustrating her almost on the days Uhtred seemed to have fallen back into his old ways, on the days where his grief had guided his movements. 

Her own grief sometimes haunted her like a ghost in the night – but with Uhtred around, having him by her side had resolved the ache she had been carrying on her shoulders. 

It had created tension at times, a budding argument between them at the thoughts of their pasts hovering between the sheets. 

“Can I not want you, and still love someone else?” He had protested, leaving her to sigh while looking at him with her frustration dying down, knowing he was right. 

“Yes, you can.” She held herself back from him, her arms wrapped around herself, trying to hide away from him. “Just... I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t look for her – whoever she is – in my bed.” 

He nodded, agreeing with her complaints. “That’s fair.” He tried to lighten the mood, reaching out for her, his fingers grazing the fabric of her dress. 

“Uhtred.” His name was heavy on her tongue. “I mean it.” She ignored his attempt at touching her, needing to get her words out. “I’m fine with whatever this is, truly, but please do not think I am her. Do not hold me and care for me thinking you are holding and caring for her.”  

He looked at her, attempting to approach her again as he caressed her cheek, his knuckles stroking her skin in silent suckling affection.  

She sighed, closing her eyes as the warmth of his touch soothed her.  

“I know who you are, Cwen.” She silently met his irises; he held onto her saddening gaze, desperate to wash it away. “And you are right. As much as I miss her, I do not invite her in my bed, or in yours.” He leaned closer, tilting her head up with his forefinger, closely whispering to her. “It’s just us.” 

He gently pressed his lips against her own, kissing her with softness lingering into his touch – an attempt to ease her ache. 

He then pulled away, just far enough to still feel the tickle of her lips. “I will only ever want to please you.” He smiled to her, his try at seducing her – leaving her to chuckle as she broke away from his embrace. 

“Then you still have work to do, Lord.” She patted his cheek, teasingly, and managed to back away before he could catch her, leaving him to look at her dumbfounded to her comment where the sound of her sweet laughter echoed within the walls of his home. 

-------------------------------------

xoxo

taglist @justanother-sihtricgirlie

[lyssasdrafts]

i feel depressed i’m gonna go re read my own series afterglow 💕💕

[voldemorts-tap-shoes]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

Thanks for the ask and for sharing the love! 💕

5 favorite fics in no particular order and likely with some recency bias lol:

1. Afterglow - just written for @cruelsummer-ficfest (there is so much good stuff in this fest you guys for real)

2. Finally - I actually kind of love this rare pair fic that I wrote for iwsc last year probably because I gave Terry and Padma all the romione vibes

3. Still Searching - y’all this is my Everest and I will finish it one day 😅 (there may be an update soonish but you didn’t hear that from me shhhhh 🤫😉)

4. Partners in Crime (series) - there’s a new installment of this in the works too and wow I’m just spilling all my secrets today 😜

5. 3rd Year Going on 30 - this was just such a fun rom com to reimagine and makes me smile

[lalal-99]

If You Don't Know | Sneak Peek

coming soon part of the Afterglow Series taglist for series personal taglist follow me and all the other writers to be informed of any updates @comet-falls @therhythmafterthesummer @starlostseungmin @alyszaen @smileyerim @diddybok @seraphicsolitude

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There it was again. The heart-wrenching, soul-shaking pain, making it so very harder for Hyunjin to breathe. To live. To look at you.

He had never imagined ever being this hurt by you, unable to look at you longer than a few seconds while at the same time respecting every decision that had led you here. Not you. Not the person he had planned his whole future and spent the majority of his adulthood with.

The two of you were meant to be together; had decided so after only months together. Because no one could ever get you as much as Hyunjin did, and vice versa. You were the perfect match of similarities and differences. For everything you had in common, there was something you could teach the other about. For every fight you had – bickering over something unimportant – you agreed on a much more intense matter. The perfect back and forth, even after years together.

He still remembered the first time he saw you at that rooftop party one of his friends had held a few years back. He noticed you while talking to a guy he so desperately hoped was your brother or cousin. Or best friend. He recalled the first time you made him laugh, just a few seconds later, when you let out an unintended snort while laughing at something your brother/cousin/best friend had said. And his own hearty giggle in response to your amusement ultimately induced the first time you noticed his existence. The world had stopped around Hyunjin as you caught his gaze – embarrassed redness warming your cheeks as you realised he had witnessed your weird laugh.

It had taken him about 20 more minutes before he couldn’t take it anymore and approached you. He knew he would never forgive himself for not hearing the sweet sound of your voice or seeing the stunning spark in your eyes up close at least once.

Hyunjin also remembered the exact moment he fell in love with you. Staring at you with heart eyes when you told him you were an artist, too. A painter, just like himself. Why ever this was what did it for him, Hyunjin had never questioned. Although he knew, as he laid in bed that night, eyes painting pictures against the white ceiling, that he needed to see you again. If only to talk about your favourite artists and art museums for another 3 hours.

Hyunjin recognised, and had done so way before, that he’d never forget any of those precious moments.

Like when you went to the fair on your first date and won him a stuffed dumpling; already aware they were his favourite food. Or how you cut your date short moments later when you noticed the first person wearing Stray Kids merch. And obviously, he would always hold that day dear in his heart. Despite the unfortunate ending of your date, you had called him minutes after he had dropped you off at your apartment to tell him that you wanted to see him again. He had turned around, sprinting back and ringing your doorbell, overwhelming you with a kiss once you opened the door for him.

Or the time you went to the beach, chatting endlessly with your feet dangling over the water. The moment Hyunjin pulled away from your lips, moonlight sparkled in your irises, catching them in the perfect lightning. He blurted ‘Please be my girlfriend’ quicker than his brain could process it, heart only settling once you caught his lips again, whispering ‘Yes’ against him.

The first time you told him you loved him was engraved in his brain, never to be forgotten. You exclaimed it (just like he did when he asked you to be his girlfriend) while cuddling in bed, laptop playing your favourite Disney movie. It was merely background noise as his heart skipped multiple beats, lips curving into a shit-eating grin as he repeated your words back to you before kissing you, his body soon hovering over you as he kissed every possible spot of your skin.

All these moments, everything he had hoped to one day tell his children and grandchildren about. Every memory that came back to him made him so unbelievably content he could cry. And still, as his eyes focused on your back, he was hurt. He understood, but he was also in unbearable pain.

Masterlist Leave feedback!

[kithtaehyung]

SEVEN DAYS TEASER???!!? ILL SCREAM!!!!!! omg i cannot wait im a sucker for roommate jk and the seven brainrot is on 1000 right now! youre the only person i trust to cure it🫣 (also if he kisses their waist to ease their mind or a theres a mention of an afterglow at any point i will implode) anywho i hope you enjoy writing this<3

-🧬

DNA HELLO💕💕 omg how are you?? other than suffering bc of seven like a lot of us are🤣 hope things are well<3

as far as the teaser….. I won’t say anything specific about the series yet but let’s just say this jk is the flirtiest goofiest fuckboy i can possibly write other than mami!joon LMAO but i really am having a great time writing it and cannot wait to share it with y’all🤧

[btscontentenjoyer]

Reading this before bed was the perfect way to end my birthday yesterday 🥺🥺🥺🥺 They're so cute and in loveeee

“shit, shit- sorry, baby-” he winces, guilty of disrupting your journey to slumber, as he scrambles to fix his mistake. “forgot to turn off the flash.” Typical Jungkook 🥺🥺🥺 All these little details about their behaviour and habits and personality throughout the series really add up to make it feel like I know these characters so well. And just like with an old friend, noticing these habits feels comforting and warm.

"he re-anchors his elbow into the mattress, resting his head on his palm to admire the majestic view of you. jungkook likes this a lot, he lives for it— lying on the bed face-to-face with his sated lover, spending the rest of the night feeling like his heart is not a big enough vessel to hold all the love he has for you. the lights he is yet to turn off have splashed the dark room with a red glow that engulfs your figure as well, escalating his heartbeat, so hypnotic and tantalizing, he finds himself breathing heavier and heavier behind the viewfinder, or maybe he has stopped breathing at all. the shutter briefly fills the silence." I was holding my breath while reading this description too 😳😳😳 but then again, I am in love with OC as well so...

"jungkook is greedy when it comes to you." 🥺💕🥺💕🥺💕

“i love you. i love you, i love y- i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you.” he repeats himself over and over, the volume of his voice gradually getting quieter as he runs out of breath, until his tongue becomes tied. grounded by the feeling of your steady pulse beneath his thumb, he silences himself by tenderly kissing you, soft lips molding with yours for a wordless declaration of devotion this time around." So so so so adorableeee.

"nothingness with your everything" 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

“__ is so, so pretty.” “hm, really?” you hum sleepily, leaning closer to his touch. “thanks to you.” “me?” his doe eyes widen in confusion. “you know, for the afterglow. i feel nice.” you giggle brightly at your own half-joke, positively out of your goddamn mind as you hide your warm face on his shoulder. “ahhh- ah!” enlightenment then dawns on your boyfriend." This whole things is just so so so so cute. I love them, they fill my heart with warmth and my stomach with butterflies.

“really, how do you do this…? what is this magic? why- why do i like you so much? i mean, i know why! of course! but, wow!” he squeezes his eyes shut to express his disbelief, clicking his head to the side. “it’s possible for it to be this much? do you get what i’m saying? i just have thoughts like that— love is so fascinating.” I can hear him saying this Art!!!!!!! Soooo adorable and such a Jungkook thing to say 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

"oh, this actually sounds familiar. he’s getting all sentimental and philosophical. again. and he’s not drunk. were you that good tonight?" Love to see OC acknowledging their power over Jungkook!!! Because he's literally wrapped around their finger!!!!

"if only bam was here, jungkook would eventually leave you alone to rest. he would pester him with his late-night burst of affection instead while talking shit about you to your child because you dodged his kiss in your sleep." Cuteeeeeee

"he shuffles to flex his arm infront of the camera, showing off his well-defined triceps and biceps while releasing rich, throaty grunts. totally unnecessary, but so achingly jungkook." 🙄🙄🙄 the mixture of dorkiness and sexiness that he's the king of is so annoying and endearing at the same time lol.

“yes, i’m yours.” he coos in response." 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"he has been waiting to jump into this type of opportunity, to orchestrate a romantic moment to be stolen in film— you can tell by the sparkles in his eyes. reminiscent of that one late night in a tiny photobooth where your younger and clueless selves were cramped in, this is what you and his hyungs often talk about, how much you share the same fondness for the fact that jungkook hasn’t changed at all." 🥺🥺🥺 Adorable adorable adorable. I also melt at all of the things about him that haven't changed since the beginning of the relationship 🥺🥺🥺 it's just as cute as seeing how much they've grown.

"a minute of silence passes. the ecstasy still flooding your veins becomes a stepping stone in the pond towards your dreamland, where all is either fantastically perfect or horrifically fucked up." I love love love your writing so much Art <3

Aaaaaah I can't stop thinking about how cute they are with their taking pictures in bed and never being able to get enough of each other and cuddling and making plans to have meat and beer after work 🥺🥺🥺 Every single little thing makes me feel full of warmth and love 💕💕💕

summary: in which jungkook can’t sleep, and he can’t stop kissing you either.

> fluff, suggestive / word count: 2.6k

> content/warnings: alexa play seven by jungkook! mentions of s^x, lots and lots of cutie kisses :( they’re in that afterglow <3 oc’s chest is his pillow :(

> in which masterlist!

note: hi hi. here’s ur slice of pure self indulgent fluff 🍰 i just had to write abt this jk :P there’s a reference to in which you always get what you want and jungkook is dying to kiss you 🥹 reblogs & feedback are vv appreciated. i’d love to hear ur thoughts so feel free to scream or laugh or cry <3

—

a fleeting white light passes through your closed eyelids, nearly blinding, as you hear the familiar shutter of your boyfriend’s polaroid camera.

“jungkook,” you whimper weakly due to the sudden disturbance, burying your face on the soft pillows while pushing the camera away.

“shit, shit- sorry, baby-” he winces, guilty of disrupting your journey to slumber, as he scrambles to fix his mistake. “forgot to turn off the flash.”

he places the polaroid face down on the space behind him to give it the time to develop the photo he had taken. much to your relief, the bedroom falls silent once more except for the quiet humming and breathing of the airconditioner. you return to properly laying your head on the pillow, taking a small gasp of oxygen, and jungkook smiles because of how adorable you are for still refusing to open your eyes.

“can i take more pictures?”

“did you turn it off?” you whisper as you stretch your legs to find a more comfortable position, unwittingly pulling down the comforter and exposing your nakedness to the cool air. this gives rise to goosebumps on your skin, causing you to shiver, but your boyfriend is quick to your rescue. he catches the hem before it could slide past your skimpy shorts.

“i did.”

a chaste kiss is planted on your shoulder before it is returned underneath the warmth of soft layers of cotton and fabric.

you sigh, melting back into relaxation. “okay.”

he re-anchors his elbow into the mattress, resting his head on his palm to admire the majestic view of you. jungkook likes this a lot, he lives for it— lying on the bed face-to-face with his sated lover, spending the rest of the night feeling like his heart is not a big enough vessel to hold all the love he has for you. the lights he is yet to turn off have splashed the dark room with a red glow that engulfs your figure as well, escalating his heartbeat, so hypnotic and tantalizing, he finds himself breathing heavier and heavier behind the viewfinder, or maybe he has stopped breathing at all. the shutter briefly fills the silence.

this is… the arch of your back is burned in his mind and he swears he still tastes you on his tongue, but seeing you like this feels so different.

he was consumed by his pleasure and yours just half an hour ago, admittedly almost blinded by his own sweat dripping from his forehead because he simply couldn’t stop wanting more of you, giving himself to you. you weren’t exactly innocent either, with your provocative touches and coquettish smiles, whispering lewd words that was gasoline to the lust flaring up inside of him. he revels in seeing that you’re just as desperate for it as he is, if not more, purely from the way you beseech him with your eyes mirroring stained glass windows. he knows you love it when he fucks you so good it brings you to tears, welcoming the delightful intensity of his nature, and that you were also trying to tire him out so he’d finally feel sleepy, but holy shit, looking at you right now, he wants nothing more but to hold you with utmost gentleness.

wildly concentrated with his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth, he brushes away the hair that fell on your face before capturing another exquisite memory to be burned into film.

jungkook is greedy when it comes to you.

a disgruntled whine slips from your mouth when the pillow underneath your head is replaced by his thick arm, which is then rudely cut off by his lips crashing on yours.

clearly, you’ve grown too comfortable in this relationship.

“i love you.” he drunkenly mutters, instantly going for another kiss and barely finishing his another- “i love you.” before he’s kissing you again.

“babe-” you chuckle then gasp, holding on to his wrist as his tattooed hand loosely wraps around your neck.

“i love you. i love you, i love y- i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you.” he repeats himself over and over, the volume of his voice gradually getting quieter as he runs out of breath, until his tongue becomes tied. grounded by the feeling of your steady pulse beneath his thumb, he silences himself by tenderly kissing you, soft lips molding with yours for a wordless declaration of devotion this time around.

pure static— there are no thoughts running in your head. your limbs feel numb but tingly. you feel like you’re floating- no, you’re falling. the bed has turned into an abyss and you’re falling endlessly and jungkook holding you close is the only thing that makes sense. you might have to consider this true heaven, nothingness with your everything, when the whole world is lights-out and quiet that it feels like time has been suspended, and the only way to keep track of it is through each pump of your heart.

at last, your eyelids slowly flutter open as he pulls away, and he greets you with that boyish grin. “pretty.”

his hand on your neck moves to stroke your face lovingly, eyes glimmering with various emotions as they wander your features.

“____ is so, so pretty.”

“hm, really?” you hum sleepily, leaning closer to his touch. “thanks to you.”

“me?” his doe eyes widen in confusion.

“you know, for the afterglow. i feel nice.” you giggle brightly at your own half-joke, positively out of your goddamn mind as you hide your warm face on his shoulder.

“ahhh- ah!”

enlightenment then dawns on your boyfriend.

his giggles blend in with yours for a harmony that strikes the same joy as the sound of wind chimes on a windy day.

jungkook tries not to appear too cocky about the compliment, but consequences be damned, he would die satisfying his lover.

“oh yeah, baby? do you now?” there’s a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face when you take a peek at him, which then morphs into a grin when your eyes meet. “i feel nice, too.”

“nice?” your voice comes out delicate, droopy eyes asking him for confirmation.

“nice.”

he feels a tug at his heartstrings.

“you know what? fucking great… i could never have enough of you.”

it becomes silent for a while. his tattooed hand slides under the comforter, letting his fingers skim across the side of your waist, feather-light touches on your bare skin before he’s pulling you closer to his body.

“i… i don’t doubt that feelings like this can only grow as time goes on but… it’s still amazing that when i think about it, even until now, all the time, i want to be with you.”

he involuntarily breathes out a shaky sigh, ears going red as they do when he’s expressing sincerity from the deepest parts of his soul.

“really, how do you do this…? what is this magic? why- why do i like you so much? i mean, i know why! of course! but, wow!” he squeezes his eyes shut to express his disbelief, clicking his head to the side. “it’s possible for it to be this much? do you get what i’m saying? i just have thoughts like that— love is so fascinating.”

you barely process his words with your brain still in a haze of bliss, but it’s funny, hearing these questions from the same man who has the entire world madly obsessed with him.

oh, this actually sounds familiar. he’s getting all sentimental and philosophical. again. and he’s not drunk. were you that good tonight?

“i won’t give away my secrets just like that. what if you use them on someone else?” you tease him, rubbing your tired eyes and shaking your head as you giggle.

you receive a dirty look from him, clearly offended and uninterested in the thought of putting in the hard effort to impress someone that isn’t you.

“aish, stop talking! i don’t like hearing you talk in that way.”

“then what else am i supposed to do? you’re the one who woke me up.” you retort in annoyance.

but you honestly don’t think there’s any secret to tell. jungkook is in love with you. plain and simple.

“you’re right, i’m sorry. go back to sleep if you want to.”

he dips down to plant gentle pecks on your shoulder, going down on a trail to your neck, and you unconsciously tilt your head to his convenience because he’s bringing the butterflies in your stomach back to life. it feels good, everything he does always feels good.

“you’re seriously not done?” you mumble against his lips, unfaltering with the kisses as if he would run out of them any minute now.

he stubbornly answers with a “no!” as his lips ghost over your cheek.

if only bam was here, jungkook would eventually leave you alone to rest. he would pester him with his late-night burst of affection instead while talking shit about you to your child because you dodged his kiss in your sleep.

“babe, you’re supposed to sleep. you have work later.”

“no, i don’t want to sleep. i… i want to kiss you- baby.” he protests as he continues to pepper your face with kisses, giving your body a particularly tight squeeze when he searches for your lips again.

you blink at him in confusion when he suddenly sends you a look of irritation, eyebrows furrowed and eyes glaring.

“you haven’t even said ‘i love you’ back yet.”

“oh, i haven’t?” you wince innocently. “sorry. i love you.”

but he should be the one apologizing to you, since it’s his fault that you still can’t think straight, or walk for that matter.

you pat around the mattress behind his back until you stumble upon the camera, and it’s jungkook’s turn to be your beloved muse. you scoot away until the lens manage to capture him down to his shirtless abdomen. you watch him in complete awe behind the viewfinder. he squints at you, raising his eyebrows flirtatiously, and he smirks when you chuckle in amusement.

“ah wait- take this! take this! you have to take a good one, got it? i worked so hard on them yesterday!” he eagerly voices out a special demand.

he shuffles to flex his arm infront of the camera, showing off his well-defined triceps and biceps while releasing rich, throaty grunts. totally unnecessary, but so achingly jungkook.

your boyfriend is outrageously, ridiculously sexy— he’s still wearing that stupid black headband he hastily put on in the middle of sex because he got pissed off at his hair and he needed it out of the way so he could ‘properly see his love’s beautiful body.’

you roll your eyes inside your head.

what a fucking tease.

nonetheless, you acquiesce.

the flash goes off.

and another polaroid is crafted into existence that you selfishly want to keep for your eyes only.

“baby, let me see.”

“it’s mine!” you scrunch your nose with a childlike charm, hiding the polaroid behind your back.

he chuckles, hopelessly endeared by you.

“yes, i’m yours.” he coos in response.

and your unguarded heart is once again swept away by the taste of his tongue. the camera becomes an abandoned item. your fingers daintily pushes off his headband in favor of freely tangling them with his silky hair, and it also ends up getting lost somewhere in the sheets as his sweet kisses lull you in a false sense of security… because out of nowhere, that same blazing light burns through your closed eyes for the second time tonight.

jungkook playfully waves the polaroid infront of your face, and his toothy grin is met by your unimpressed expression.

“this is mine!”

he has been waiting to jump into this type of opportunity, to orchestrate a romantic moment to be stolen in film— you can tell by the sparkles in his eyes. reminiscent of that one late night in a tiny photobooth where your younger and clueless selves were cramped in, this is what you and his hyungs often talk about, how much you share the same fondness for the fact that jungkook hasn’t changed at all.

“just how many pictures of you kissing me do you need?” you ask him lightheartedly.

he juts out his bottom lip sullenly, and a few beats pass before he forms an answer. “i always need more for when i miss you.”

you copy his frown. “then what about me when i’m missing you too?”

“hmmm… i want you to always remember me like this, baby.” he melodramatically declares as he picks up the one and only polaroid you’ve taken of him tonight. “can you see my abs too…? oh- it’s not showing yet.”

he looks back at you shyly with a laugh, and he places it back down to let it continue developing.

“i’ll look later. i can’t even keep my eyes open anymore. ‘m so tired.” you sadly sniffle to gain his pity, fluttering your damp eyelashes at him. “let’s go to sleep, please?”

jungkook doesn’t find it in himself to articulate a consolation or protest, not when you’re tugging him down to coax him into laying his head on your chest.

“heaven.” he moans, overcome by contentment.

he adjusts himself a bit to be more comfortable before dragging the comforter further upwards to provide warmth for the two of you, all the while refusing to remove his face nuzzled up against you.

“why are you always like this? can you even breathe?” you chuckle with your eyes closed.

“i love your boobs.” his honest reply comes out muffled, cute for some reason, along with his satisfied hums prompted by your nails lightly scratching his scalp.

“i know.”

he turns his head to the side to look up at you, and he carries on to speak with his cheek squished against you. “i really, really mean it.”

“yes, baby. i believe you.”

a minute of silence passes. the ecstasy still flooding your veins becomes a stepping stone in the pond towards your dreamland, where all is either fantastically perfect or horrifically fucked up.

but then you feel sloppy kisses being deliberately scattered in the middle of your chest, leading down to your stomach, and you get rudely knocked over into the cold, clear waters.

yes, plea- oh no, no, no, no.

“jungkook, baby, stop. i can’t go another round.” you whine pathetically, being driven closer to the urge to burst into tears.

“AH! o-ow- ouch- baby, wha- i swear, i wasn’t even planning on it!” he loudly exclaims in surprise when you harshly pull him away by his hair.

“still…” your voice cracks. “you know i’ll get turned on!”

his chuckles are infuriatingly raspy and of no help at all, ego inflating upon hearing your response and the frustration obviously laced with it.

“okay, okay! i’m sorry! i’ll behave now!”

thank god.

he assumes his previous position, the place that he deems to be the warmest and the coziest. as he wraps his arms around your waist, your fist relaxes into an open palm that cradles the back of his head.

“____?” he mumbles, finally feeling the tiredness seep into his sore muscles now that he’s lying motionless.

“hmm?”

“let’s eat dinner outside after work.”

“…meat?”

“and beer!” he adds, brimming with excitement, and he salivates as he can almost taste them in his mouth already. they are his favorite, after all.

“i’ll come pick you up then.” you drop a kiss on his forehead, and he sighs happily. “but go to sleep or else i’ll kick you out of the bedroom again.”

his sweet embrace becomes an iron grip.

cold and alone, he swears those were some of the worst three hours of his life.

he squeaks in defeat. “goodnight, baby.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[pankowperfection]

Rafe Cameron

Smut (🔥), fluff (💕), angst (💔)

Panty Party 🔥

So Many Choices 🔥 Part 2 🔥

Late Night Snack 🔥

Dinner and a Show 🔥

Take it out on me 🔥

One too Many 🔥

Can’t replace me 🔥

Backroad Bliss 🔥

Consequences 🔥

Can't get enough 🔥

Need You Now 🔥

Missing You 🔥

Bad girl🔥

Addicted 🔥

Double Trouble 🔥

The Interview 🔥

Afterglow 🔥💕

Anything but Professional 🔥💕

Peeping Tom 🔥

The Ultimate Betrayal (Series) 🔥💕💔

[msfett]

✨ Chapter 9: Halo Effect

Boba Fett x F!Reader

Rating: NSFW Explicit 18+ only

C/W: Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content/Dialogue, Power Play, Breathplay, Anal Play, Impact Play/Spanking (we're here to play with everything in this house y'all), Oral Sex, Rough!PIV Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Angsty Mutual Pining, AHHH Feelings!

Some Stuff 😊 Well. The following is what happens when I get carried away. And I hope it’s just as much fun for your beautiful mind as it is for mine. 😁

Definitely more intense sexual imagery/rougher aspects in this chapter. But if you’re into that (cuz dude, I sure am!), here’s a ticket and please enjoy the show!

Much thanks (grazie mille!) to the lovely Alex @nyrakaraay for song inspo. You're the best, girl! *love and hugs* AT-AT

Always appreciate sentiments and feedback; here, as a message, or as anon 🥰 (And I LOVE music recommendations!)

Immense thanks for all y'all supporting this fic! For real, your comments make me smile, like, so much ☺️ If you prefer AO3 (msfett_ifyourenasty), this series is cross-posted there. Please feel free to reblog and share 💕

🎶Musical Motivation/Lyrical Inspiration: I Wanna Be Your Dog by The Stooges *woof woof* 😉

**********************

“Let go, young one. I’ll be back before nightfall.” His voice is stern, likely matching the look on his face. But tears sting your eyes, and all you can see is the dense fabric of his robes as he attempts to pry the incomplete circle of your stubborn arms from clinging around his waist.

He’s trying to be patient, to not pacify you by easier means. You feel his tension, the worry of leaving you alone for the first time in weeks since the dusty hut became your new home. He didn’t think it would be this difficult.

The hand he places on top of your head stops short of any additional comfort as hiccups intersperse the hot, still air. “This can’t be the same girl that so bravely jumped over a big ravine not one rotation ago. She wasn’t afraid of anything.” His words calm you to sniffles.

“Master, please don’t go.”

“But this is exactly why I must go.” Your young mind doesn’t understand. “You and I will always share a bond, but we must not become so attached that we fear losing the other. Fear is a selfish emotion. The Force guides us to serve others and the greater good, not just our own wishes.”

“I don’t care. I want you here.”

“That is greed speaking, one of many paths to the Dark side.” His wisdom urges you to see the consequence. “Do you want that?”

The muscles in your little arms start to relax, slowly letting go. “No.”

He’s softened and allows you to continue stepping back at a comfortable pace. “There’s that brave girl. Always know that even when we are apart, you are never alone.”

You don’t look at him, ashamed by your outburst of emotion, tears drying on your warm cheeks.

You never cried again when he left. Only after would you allow the tears to flow freely.

**********************

The air is silent, his slowing movements the only reply of want, praying the question will lose relevance long enough until it’s forgotten. He’s softening, lips losing form, almost dragging across your collarbone.

“This is not an answer.”

You can feel his vibration of conflict to your statement as his breath heats your skin. “For now, can you accept it as one?” But there’s also an unusual lightness, a hazy afterglow awash with sustained brilliance in a ritual he’s creating. “What about you?” He catches the thin strap of your undershirt between his teeth, playfully tugging before gently biting the skin underneath, mumbling, “What do you want from me?”

It’s strange how much you’re caught off guard by the reciprocal question. At times, he's remarkably disorienting. And you don’t know what to tell him. There’s a newness you’re unable to describe, or maybe unable to admit, or even allow.

“For now, I want you to keep your hands to yourself.” But your body is motionless with no indication of resisting his soft exploration of your skin as he discovers the dimples low on your back, and you secretly appreciate his lack of seriousness. “It’s a long way back to the Core.”

He throws his hands up in mock compliance, but his teeth continue, contentedly nipping the side of your neck.

“That means your mouth, too.”

It’s an exaggerated bite before he abandons the diversion, thudding against the wall, hands behind his head, pleased with his actions. It looks like he’s biting back a smug smile as you struggle to untwist from the awkward straddle. It had been so much easier to get into than out of.

Untucking your knees, you’re forced into an ungraceful squat before rising, dripping your combined release on his pants. And it’s definitely becoming a fucking smile now as you attempt to stand. He grips the back of your thighs, pulling you toward him, cramped legs trying to find balance and you fall forward against the wall.

His grumbled name serves as your purposeful warning. It’s as if he’s trying to get you into complicated positions, face level with your pubic bone as his lips press just above. Your favorite curse has become his surname as his tongue darts out, licking up, quickly flicking, freely toying with you.

Appetite insatiable, his fingers knead the juncture of your ass and thighs, spreading your cheeks apart, hands inching to your center. As he parts you, the ambient temperature cools the smear of fluids coating each crevice. The heat of his exhales is stupidly enticing as he deeply breathes in the scent of sex. His tone is powerfully teasing, oozing with some deranged smile, as if he were the one standing over you instead of gladly buried at the apex of your thighs. “You’re making a mess, pretty Jedi.”

“That’s it.” Huffing in outright exasperation, you grab his hands from their increasingly ambitious placement, and throw them aside. A blush radiates from your face, and though you hadn’t been embarrassed, his teasing has made you feel so. You’re already stepping away, wanting to completely scrub his distinctive taste from your lips, his musky smell from your skin, anything he’s left behind, when you feel his large hand encircle your wrist, abruptly jerking you back to him.

“Let go, Fett.”

The sliver of white from behind his lips is a beautiful contrast against his olive complexion.

Is this what it takes to get him to smile? A half-naked, frustrated woman dripping on the floor of his ship?

He pulls you ever so slightly closer and presses his lips to the back of your hand. And there’s something about the trusting way his eyes close as he kisses you, the gentling of roughness in his actions, that your body responds in kind, wrist momentarily relaxing.

He must feel the tension slip from your arm, sliver returning as he pulls you into his lap again. And despite your irritation with him, you can’t help the curve in your lips that mirrors his.

**********************

Orondia is just as expected; a bleak rock of a planet, of no interest to any faction, including the Empire. Dreams were already dead before entering this Outer Rim system, setting aside no room for nightmares either, safe in its nothingness.

The encrypted channel necessitates continuous minuscule adjustments for adequate reception as you automatically scan the surroundings from behind a decaying stresscrete building.

“Your actions have put many in danger, 401.” His voice is severe through the earpiece. “Your protection will extend as far as necessary, but if you deliberately disregard operational procedures for your own self-interests, there is nothing I can do.”

“Copy.” The familiar ache of tension in your jaw is just another reminder of current circumstances.

“Odd, because I don’t quite think you do understand.” His irritation crackles. “I will require a detailed sitrep from the moment you went dark. This has become a rather dirty extraction. You are to stand by until I’m able to locate an escort.”

“315, I have safe passage to Coruscant. Let him —”

“No. I am firm on this matter. You are too valuable and he is an indisputable danger. You should have no confidence in this man. He is —”

“But where’s your faith in me? You’ve always trusted my decisions. This is a simple way for me get back to the Core without other agents getting involved. When I get there, I’ll…sanitize everything, like I was never there. Just like always. Repeat. Just like always.”

“Wait one.” The static is deafening while he considers. “Though I do feel this could go sideways, I respect your insight. It’s not served you wrong in the past. I’ll relay this confirmation of plans to HQ. We can’t afford further compromise of your status, for many reasons my dear. Please be careful. Over.”

Movement slyly peeks from behind a corner until its curiosity assumes the form of an advancing figure.

“Thank you, sir. Out.”

Simple was never a safe word to utter aloud.

**********************

The unmistakable wheeze of metal breath hisses loudly throughout the audio communication in the cockpit of the Slave I. “Given her likely connection, I should think you’d take a personal interest in her, bounty hunter.”

“I need more information,” Boba states, composed and concise. “Can’t find someone that doesn’t exist.”

“Indeed.” The respirator invades the brief silence. “I will not waste your efforts on details. Once the necessary information is obtained, you will be notified. She will be made your priority. I want her alive, Fett,” ensuring to add, “and relatively unharmed.”

“I’ll await your message, Lord Vader.”

The pilot’s chair creaks as Boba leans on the weathered arm, impassively staring at the rising fuel gauge as the conversation replays. The ghost exists; breathes spirted life in his ship, on his body, through his mind. Inwardly unnerved, his thoughts revolve until he’s alerted by two approaching thermal outlines.

**********************

Running attracted attention, but in this instance, a light jog seemed a viable option. The way the man lumbered toward you with a marked limp indicated his inability to sustain that speed. A new face meant opportunity as he scrambled after you, imploring credits, a menial job in exchange for a meal.

The despair in his cracked voice clambers for the strings of generosity, tugging, until desperate, feigns an act of violence by brandishing an ancient blaster. You don’t even bother to dodge the poorly aimed jittery bolt as it blasts by.

A surge of sorrow for the sad shadow of a man rushes over you even before the carbine rifle speaks its fatal judgment. There’s no emotion behind Fett’s visor as the man stumbles backward, blood sputtering out of the corner of his mouth while death imparts an everlasting kiss.

“What the fuck?” you practically spit at the helmet.

His retort is harshly clipped. “Did you need it for something?”

So callous for the pitiful life taken, you snap back. “Him. Not it.” You’re reluctant to concede. “But, no.”

“Then what’s the problem?” he asks, seemingly confused by your reaction.

“You didn’t have to kill him.” For some reason you’re disturbingly trying to comprehend Fett’s thought process.

As always, he’s flawlessly calculated. “It shot at me.”

You glare at him, heart thudding with every step you take up the ramp.

**********************

“You.” It sounds accusing despite whatever underlying objective he’s attempting to convey. Still soaked from recycled water, his hair is wavy, longer pieces adhering to his temples. He is warm and clean, cold grime sucked down the shower drain. “He was shooting at you.” His dark eyes narrow, droplets splashing to roll down his nose. “Wasn’t going to let him live after that.” But the few flecks of gold in his eyes flicker brightly, skin dewy even with the glare of poorly filtered light.

You’ve been stripping away lingering anger, removing more of it with each article of dirty clothing heaped on the floor. “No. Don’t use me as your reason for his death.”

“You don’t think you’re a good enough reason?” There’s a great wondering sincerity in his voice, avidly waiting for your reply, and you try not to notice the slight slipping of his towel exposing more of the muscled midriff.

“To die for?” But your face is placid, reserved, a practiced emptiness acting as a blank, secondary mask. “No.”

Detached, you brush past him in the narrow hallway to the bunk when he grabs your wrist, striding the single step needed to pin you, his trap precisely accurate.

“Well, maybe I do,” he growls, bare chest rising and falling so closely. The push of his body against yours; the hard and the soft, the long wavelengths of red forming a passionate anger.

“Let go,” you say evenly, apathetic to his increasing agitation.

A fist smashes into the durasteel, reverberations echoing through your chest. “Do you ever actually feel anything?” He’s snarling the words, bringing his face closer until you’re sharing breath. “You lack basic emotions.”

“I lack emotion? What about you? You never—”

“You think I have no emotion?” He smiles like a ravenous animal delivering the final, debilitating injury to its prey, energy spurting to pulsate in your temples, your stomach, between taut thighs. “Fine. You asked me what I want. Here’s your fuckin’ answer.”

He is made of teeth and claws leaving you defenseless, unprepared for the brutal veracity of his attack.

“I want to rip off those skin-tight, cock-tease pants and bury my face in that sweet little cunt until it’s the only thing I can taste.” Raw desire burns in his dark eyes, fingers mauling the flesh of your hips through the fabric as though he’s about to make good on his depraved word.

“I want to push you to your scratched-up knees and watch that pretty, too smart for its own good mouth open wide so I can fuck it.” With predatory intent his large hand seizes your chin, calloused thumb harsh against your lip, tugging it down so he can slide his carnivorous tongue in your mouth, mimicking the voiced desire of defilement.

“I want to bruise that delicate, fragile throat and know I’ll be the only man who’s cock you choke on.” The hand enclosing your throat is finely shaking with fixed intention, cutting you off from any thought except him being deeply lodged, boldly pulsing, aggressively preventing passage of another.

“I want to fuck you so hard that I break apart that beautiful cunt until it’s shaped only for me. Knows only me.” He utters the possessive confession in his silk-over gravel voice, shock pummeling you like waves crashing against a rocky shore. A jealous hand harshly claims your sex with a greedy command, heel rubbing an order.

“That’s what I fucking want. Now how does that make you feel, Jedi? Or are you still dead inside?” His voice is a savage roar that ricochets through your body, awakening everything.

His neck is massive in your small hand, grasping only the front, but enough to feel the pounding of his pulse at your dark explosion. You don’t even need to touch him. He could be armlengths away and still fall victim to your crushing force. But his skin feels so alive beneath your bare fingertips as you hear the telltale gasp of deprivation. But there isn’t a hint of contention under the force of your clinch. If anything, he seems excited about becoming one with the wall as long as your hand is dictating the decree. The silence is charged, wrapping you in a distorted cocoon of electricity together.

“There’s that fire.” His voice deepens to a constricted, raspy rumble, so low it’s almost unintelligible. “Let it burn.” But he could’ve spoken in any alien tongue and you would’ve been able to decipher it, heart and body translating every syllable.

Your chest is an active battlefield raging with anger, pain, need, lust, all fighting for equal ground. He can feel you emanating. Your body heat. Your presence. Your power. And your momentary lapse of control over it. This is what he wanted. He’ll fucking get it then.

His hair is still damp, wringing water with your grip that makes clear the purpose of direction, a provocative coaxing to gentle him to the floor. “Down, boy.”

Positively growling with hostility, the bend in his knees is defiant, yet he complies, progressing in accordance with your charge. “You’re gonna fuckin’ regret that.”

Maybe so, but your smirk is vindictive as you rip the towel from his waist, leering as his cock bounces in unabashed liberation. Letting the towel fall from pillaging fingers, you graciously give him something to kneel on aside from the saccharine granules of disparaging instruction, questioning, “What happened to never bowing, Fett?”

Like the position of his body, his threat is low and frustrated, deliciously vicious. “Keep talkin’ pretty girl. You already know what I’m gonna do with that mouth.”

Insides quivering with the intimation, you instruct him with a swat. “Hands off. Let’s see how talented you really are.”

His hands want to disobey, but recede to the wall, attempting some semblance of control with the makeshift cage. Teeth scrape against the tender skin above your pant line before he begins to tug, intermittently shaking his head to slide the tight material lower on your hips. And It’s dreadfully enjoyable to taunt him as he performs in this submissive position. “After running your mouth, I thought you’d be better at this.”

Oh, he takes the dangled bait, practically salivating to prove you otherwise. “Turn around.” And he’s biting your ass through the pants, capturing flesh between slashing teeth as if he can rip a hole to satisfy his need. He sharply yanks the material over the swell of your ass, slowly licking the inflicted teeth marks like he can skin you with his tongue, only to nuzzle between marked cheeks, hunting for what’s buried between. The luscious arch of your back presents him with a faceful of ass and collected moisture glossing your folds. He groans as if he wants to stuff all of it in his mouth at once, devour you whole, and the thought makes you touch the arousal seeping around your clit, softly gliding a finger over.

“Face me,” he rumbles against your cunt.

There’s a raised eyebrow when he sees you touching yourself, but he’s raptly fascinated watching how the delicate finger provides pleasure in the form of little breathy noises that escape your throat. Tongue moistening his lips, he roughly fists his cock in a solicitous response. He’s breathing faster, eyes entranced as you add a second finger to the small, slow motions causing your hips to rock.

“How about making yourself useful, Fett?”

The words have just left your mouth, but he ignores the snark, already made of warm breath and ghosting lips, barely touching as disobedient hands skim up and down your calves. His lips press against yours, keeping resolute contact as he pulls a crate over. Grasping your ankle, he gently guides you as the new angle naturally opens your legs. Inhaling deeply, his nostrils flare to draw in your scent before licking up the fingers pleasuring yourself.

Quickly flicking your wrist, your fingertips hook behind his lower teeth, pulling his jaw down, and he’s trying to fight against you, trying to lift his head against your pressure. But the pressure is too great, and you feel the lack of resistance in his slackened jaw as his head lowers. But even so, his eyes lock with yours.

“You can do better than that.” You drag slicked fingers from behind teeth, down his lower lip, across until you’ve made sure the fingers leave any remaining juices on him. Cupping his face, you give him a grin before patting his cheek, and it’s absolutely condescending when you speak.

“Be a good boy.”

Oh, you’ve struck a nerve, maybe hundreds. His desire flares, hot and angry, sending chills thrilling over your skin. “I’m gonna do more than break you.”

And hearing him repeat his destructive compulsion initiates your own self-sabotage for the complete devastation of your body, of the dark desires of his needs, your needs, of the growing threads of attachment.

Your grip tangles in his hair, incrementally pulling back, forcing him to crane his neck. “If you really want to taste this pussy so badly, you’re doing a shitty job of showing me that.” The look on his face is wild. “Lick.” You shove his face closer and he absolutely dives in with an eager tongue. He can fucking drown there if he thinks he can break you. The darkness in his eyes is all consuming, as you feed him each demanding word. “Slowly.”

His tongue is broad and powerful, fitting the rest of his body, licking your clit in firm, perfectly replicated movements, flicking at the sensitive top before beginning again. Your moaning intensifies as you watch his devoted mouth. His dark eyes are expressive, full of strength and naked vulnerability as he worships your cunt.

This beautiful man has undeniably surrendered between your legs, forehead creased as he focuses on your pleasure, making the rest of the galaxy seem unimportant if only for a moment. The Empire’s well-trained dog has strayed, lapping up your juices with abiding loyalty, confirming his allegiance.

He refuses to break eye contact, even with his nose so pressed against your skin that he’s sucking ragged inhales through his mouth instead. He would gladly take his last breath here, strangled on the scent of your body, gasping on your explicit desire for him.

The furious restraint is loosening in his hair, fingers running through his drying soft curls, sweetly petting his obedience. His reward is circling hips that grind, ride his tongue, and he stills for you to set the pace, knowing he will ultimately be your undoing, hungrily devouring your cunt so he can feast on the drip of succulent lips.

The guttural groans he makes vibrate against your swollen clit while he tongue-fucks you. He’s faithfully licking, elongating his adoration until his head is actively dipping, dragging his tongue from behind your sex, through soaked folds, trilling his tongue with worked precision before sucking your clit between focused lips. He hasn’t laid a finger anywhere near the weeping slit, excellently proving the true talent of his mouth.

He locks eyes with you, words uttered between lips slicked in arousal. “Fuck my face, beautiful. Come all over me. Want that taste to die on my tongue."

His voice resonates through your body to a fine point in your cunt. You hold your breath as he draws you to the edge of release, thighs tightening, toes curling against the durasteel floor. Heat blasts outward, rippling like seismic waves through your belly, releasing in blissful contractions, crying, mouth agape, until wrought with intensity you hunch over, hands braced on muscled shoulders.

And you’re mewling, shaking against his begging mouth as he desperately sups every part of you, each scrap of pleasure, each morsel of desire, gnawing at you to fucking let go so he can tear at you, sinew snapping between his teeth until you become a part of him. He is overwhelming, and the beautiful, brittle snap of your will flows into him.

He can taste it. It is the grit of dried sweat laced with burning sand, crystallized salt that melts across his tongue. And his throat becomes parched with undying thirst.

He can smell it. It is the essence of smoke, of blazing nighttime fires warming huddled bodies in the evening cool. He breathes it in until his lungs are lined with soot. And he pleads to suffocate.

His mouth slows, gentle as you pulse with little aftershocks. When he hears your breath steady, he carries your fluid body to splay across the bed. Laying beside you, he leans on an elbow, fingers lightly tracing along your midline, tracking your breastbone, stomach, lower. Even with his soft touch your breath hitches as fingers explore his wet ruin, stroking between plump lips.

His eyes shift between yours and the scene playing between your legs. Bending, his lips are soft, like he’s breathing kisses along your shoulder. “How do you feel?”

Your relaxed hum is not enough for him and the lilt of his accent covets more. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Good.” Your hand finds the back of his neck, encouraging his closeness and he burrows his face below your ear. “You make me feel really good.”

It isn’t until after you feel your tongue has betrayed something; not made me, but make me feel good. And maybe he doesn’t notice, perhaps more concerned with the solid erection he’s pressing into your hip, but then you hear him.

“That’s what I want.” His ankle crosses over yours in a comfortable way like he’s settling in. “I’m in no rush.”

“Give me a few minutes.”

“As long as you need,” he whispers into your hair, repeating your earlier observation. “It’s a long way back to the Core.”

A part of you is surprised by him. This is the same man that unflinchingly killed that unfortunate soul…because of you. Because he attempted a pathetically aimed shot at you. And Fett did not, would not tolerate it. The hand that summoned death is now intimately stroking you with divine care.

And that fucks with your head.

The twisted thoughts of Fett’s capabilities, his murderous, bloodied hands all over you…

It’s sickening and yet your body responds, hips almost unknowingly rolling against his hand. His cock has been patient, but now twitches in pleased anticipation with your engagement.

“I meant it. What I said I wanted.” He props back up, brow serious, searching your face for any wrinkle of doubt. “Will you let me?”

His caution is exciting, thrilling through your veins as a rush, and you flash a devious grin. His darkness is absolute, drowning out any possible light. And you’re glad for it, hiding the warped elements of desire no one should witness.

He suddenly morphs into a hissing whisper, tongue seducing, slithering from your ear to sink his fangs into the pulse of your neck. “You get that shit out of your system?” He wants to ensure your poison has been flushed before injecting his.

A blush spreads across your face as your lips continue their insidious curl.

“Good.” He grabs your wrist, yanking you up to pull off the sweaty shirt clinging to your skin. “Because now you’re mine.”

“On your knees,” he commands, and you hesitate. He shouldn’t hold any authority, but you feel the division of relinquishing control. He not only sees this, but recognizes it, adjusts to it and leans close to your ear, tone soft. “Do you want this?”

The scrape of stubble scratches a persistent itch as you nod. “Then I need you to let go.” He is taking deep breaths. Nothing else. Just steady, deep breaths. “And trust me.”

And you let go.

Shuddering, you slowly lower to the floor, his reassuring hand on your arm helping to steady you. With your gaze averted, he moves in front, tenderly tilting your chin up, thumb skimming along your bottom lip. “Eyes on me.”

But his gaze emboldens you, the words spilling out before you realize the implications. “Thought you wanted to push me to my knees, Fett.”

A switch is flipped, a fluent, dark current in his voice. “Next time you use that smart mouth the only sound I wanna hear is you choking on my cock,” he husks, and your walls clench around his filthy words. His grip changes to tighten around your jaw, sharply pressing below your cheekbones, forcing your mouth open. His other hand is pumping his erection, then brushing the seeping tip over your lips, and your parted mouth opens wider to accommodate his thick girth. He only thrusts once, just enough to slick saliva over before his next order. “Tongue.”

Your mind is screaming, who the fuck is this man? His gruff commands make you cringe in excitement as dominant energy exudes from his body, and strangely you’re getting off on his power trip. Fuck. His tan complexion, smooth with jaggedly raised scars. His focused, dedicated eyes, mouth matching their intensity. His defined abdominal v pointing to your pulsing devastation.

Starting at the base, you slide up, tongue fully pressed to his heavy shaft until taking the leaking tip into your mouth and add a little suck before slowly descending as far as you can go without taking him into your throat. He’s groaning when you come up, watching how your lips stretch around his cock, fingers threading through your hair. “All of it.”

Giving him the sight he’s throbbing for, you lower down his length again, but this time when his head hits your throat you swallow and allow him to go deeper. He holds you there, testing, watching how the side of your neck trembles as you take him. And when he sees the dampness at the corners of your closed eyes as your throat begins to spasm, he guides your head back up saving you from fully gagging, patting your cheek in return. “Good girl.”

Despite wanting to absolutely hate his arrogant tone, arousal seeps from your cunt, lips sliding together with the press of excited thighs, and you take pleasure in the wet reaction as he sets the slow rhythm of up and down. Inspiring hands tangle in strands of hair, spurring your head to bob on his cock. On every downstroke he gives a small thrust to the back of your throat, each collision of the broad head becoming more aggressive. His breathing has picked up and you can hear him trying to maintain composure as you keep a soft mouth, saliva sticking to him when he pulls back.

His reaction to your silky mouth is making his entire body stiffen, and you know he’s on the verge of coming down your throat, his increasing engorgement causing you to choke. He savagely twists your hair, jerking you up, stiff cock jumping as your reddened lips are popped off. "Fuck." Eyebrows drawn together, he roughly squeezes the head, controlling, waiting for the edge to fade before moving.

Guiding your body up, he places a tiny kiss on each shoulder before running a tongue along the top of each breast, cupping and thumbing pert nipples. Flipping you around, he closes a hand around the back of your neck, and you know he can feel your pulse quicken, fingers gradually tightening as he whispers hotly in your ear. “Kneel.”

Your body is completely thrumming with desire at his command, and when he shoves you forward onto the bed you feel the wetness leak down the inside of your thighs. “Head down. Want that pretty ass up.” You’re not sure why he bothered to say it, his hands already moving you into position, gripping a hip as he continues to push your neck down. The power excites him, cock twitching against your ass as he manhandles your legs flush with the edge of the bed.

But feeling the demise of succumbing to his wishes, the tension in your jaw starts to radiate, neck stiffening, shoulders raising in protest, and he recognizes your telling signs of stress. The heat from his breath on your ear, the way his nose brushes your hairline is soothing, and your muscles begin to uncoil as he reassures, “Doing so good.” He continues nuzzling down your neck, murmuring into your skin, “You’re beautiful.”

You’re waiting for him to qualify; beautiful on your knees, beautiful bent over. But nothing follows. And that’s when you relax, trusting, regulating your breath with his, the shiver rolling through your body acting as willing surrender.

Grazing only his fingertips along the curve of your overarched spine, it’s shocking when his hand sharply smacks a presented cheek. Your cry evolves to a high-pitched whimper of breath as he immediately smooths over the sting with his palm. But then, jolting smacks land on the opposite cheek, and he kneads the soft flesh between his own moans of enjoyment.

Each exhale is shaky thinking how demented this must look as he readily delivers a thorough spanking. But his hands on your blushing cheeks are a ridiculous turn on. No one gets to touch you like this, see you in this vulnerable position, and these thoughts combined with the burn from his smack have your body trembling with anticipation.

You can feel his stare devouring you, projected excitement just as palpable, fingers swiping through your slit, gliding over a cheek to leave a cool trail over the reddened skin. His touch is deceivingly gentle, and you try to relax beneath it, but just as tension begins to dissipate, the warm hand disappears only to come down again, harshly slapping your ass.

His dark chuckle wraps around, caressing the sound in your ear, and you don’t want to give him any pleasure of knowing your pain, but, fuck, the audacious swagger in his voice. “You regretting what you said yet?”

Iron bleeds onto your tongue from your attempt to bite away the cry, but your only response is a deeper tilt to your pelvis, back incredibly arching, ass inching even higher unintentionally spreading your lips. The parting is audible and he freely groans, roughly grabbing your ass, licking a firm tongue up your cunt before shoving it inside. It feels like he’s gathering every drop of arousal in his mouth, and you hear a swishing, a mixing of fluids before feeling the spray of spit attack your other hole.

His timbre is impossibly evil, juxtaposed to the sweet kisses at the cleft of your ass. “How about now?” His thumb is lightly circling, coating the tightness, pressure daring to enter, daring your denial.

“Fett…” It’s a breathy whine more than a word.

He’s careful not to scratch you with his nail, thumb slowly pushing past your weakened resistance. “No. Not like that.” Each syllable penetrates further. “Say. My. Fucking. Name.”

Your brow furrows into a pleasurable version of his typical features as molten heat melts down your center.

“Boba…”

You cry out as he stretches you, thumb deepening, completely filling you as two fingers squelch into your cunt, curling, dancing expertly as they did across the control panel. He’s doing it again, leading you to the edge, pulling you back into his sin.

His tormenting laugh hangs in the air. “Say it again.”

That’s what he wants, and part of you wants to give it to him, give it all, but pride is powerful and so is your level of restraint.

It's his method of punishment, cruelly removing all fingers from your holes, trailing wet fingers from your cunt as the next smack connects with only one cheek, the next bringing a sting to the other. “Naughty.” And then he’s using more force, undoubtedly leaving his mark of angry handprints on your ass as a sadistic reminder. It’s insane how much you’re enjoying getting spanked, the loss of control its own heady concoction. At Fett’s unforgiving mercy, you grow more and more aroused each time his palm connects, ripping strangled whimpers from your throat.

The next slap elicits a soft moan from your lips, ass wiggling in anticipation for the next as his audible groans of drunken power harmonize with your feminine sounds. This slap is the hardest yet, slicing the air with a loud thwacking noise and bringing a dull ache to the abused skin before rubbing away the burn.

“What a strong girl.” And he’s sincere, no notes of mockery in his voice, words echoing, reverberating as praise through your body. “Even like this, you’re a perfect warrior, Jedi.”

His voice unfurls stored heat, pouring low into your belly, keening with his honest endearment. Each hard strike builds upon a blissful numbness, mind separating from body, limitless infinity. But he helps bring you back each time. And you’re not lost, not gone, more present in the now with each outstretched hand he eagerly offers.

Smack. Room spinning. Smack. Skin on fire. Smack. Sizzling need. Smack. “More…”

It sounds like his groan of satisfaction is absolute, but then you push him beyond known limitations with a freely uttered intimate address.

“More, Boba.”

And he stops as if startled, violently panting through his nose, like he doesn’t even know what to do with that.

The soft moan of his name is the blade that slices through his last thread of control, and a low-seated rumble exits as a curse. So wrapped in sensation, you barely register his change in position, the flimsy mattress bowing under the weight of a foot appearing next to your torso. His hand is intent on writing a permanent signature on your hip, muscled forearm braced along your lower back, when you feel him shift, and everything blurs.

Solid weight presses between your shoulder blades, breath forced from your lungs, pinning you as he leans into the edge of his foot. His anchored points are purposeful as you buck under the intensity. His hand is relentless; one cheek, both cheeks, fingertips brushing slick and then, fuck, his entire palm, and it’s with such ferocity that he’s flinging droplets of arousal from soaked lips to land on tingling heels.

The concept of control ceases to exist with each ardent cry of his erotic assault, each searing smack lighting like dry tinder on your skin.

Let it burn, he said.

And you are. And so is he. The ashes will mix.

The sweat on his skin coalesces with yours as a weight is lifted. The resurgence of oxygen flows like his hands until he twists your arm behind, grabbing a wrist. Driving your legs apart, he kneels between to slide the tip of his cock through the sopping mess he can own. Plunging in, he has you take it all, just like your throat, tight and hot, setting nerve endings on fire, searing pleasure with pain until there’s no separation.

The deep penetration has you swimming in arousal as his other hand wraps around the nape of your neck, pushing down. His thrusts are slow, coating his cock until he can smoothly slide through the heat, pressing against your cervix with small, purposeful rolls of his hips. “To think at any time,” he pants, “you have the power to kill me with your magic.” His stroke becomes profound, sack slapping with each snap. “But instead, you’re letting me do this.” And it feels like the unadulterated language issued from his lips couldn’t possibly become more cataclysmic until…

“Never thought I’d see a Jedi on her knees, begging me for more while I fuck her.”

And the astonishing shock of his horribly exquisite revelation makes you cry for him in a finality of desire. He stakes claim on his twisted truth with each fulfilling stroke, each rocketing piston into your body. Each slap of flesh against flesh. Each groan that echoes loudly. Each panted, whispered word of praise for his Jedi; feel so fucking good, that’s it, such a good girl.

He consumes you with overwhelming need, like he’s been waiting for years to obliterate every part of you in his search for vengeance. He works your body, your cunt, molding it to him just as he promised. He hears you ask for him, say his name, repeat it, run it together, make it your curse, your deliverance.

He leans over your body, rasping into your ear, "Remember that gorgeous way you came all over my face? That's exactly how I'm gonna make your perfect little cunt come again on my cock."

And he fucking means it, each thrust shoving you closer and closer to diving into the dark but blazing abyss. But this time you don’t have to reach for a hand because he’s already holding yours. The pressure released from your neck is now the grip of interlaced fingers that tighten, attach with pulling intensity, need personified. He’s savoring every drag, every strike of his head marking territory. Taking everything. Inside. Deep inside. Driving you toward an ending, terrifying and exhilarating.

Blinding brightness. Stinging darkness.

Damned or not, he’s there. And so are you. Fate holds the future. But now, right now, you’re able to accept, to let go.

He frees you from the other restraining hand, snaking it between trembling thighs, rubbing his name into your demise, living in desperation for a similar destiny.

“I want you.”

With a keening cry, you surrender to his want, exploding, triggering him to pound into your cunt. He’s chasing after you, keeping time with you. He’s erratic, pulsing, shooting a part of himself inside your orgasm-tightened walls as his harsh groans batter the air.

And then he's taking deep, gasping breaths. Nothing else. Just deep, gasping breaths.

But he doesn’t wilt, mindful of your wrecked body underneath as his breath hits hotly against your neck. Attached, completely sheathed in your heat, you feel potential trickling down a thigh as his body conforms to yours, readjusting, lying chest-to-back. He owns a new layer of sweat combining with yours, and he’s proud not to cleanse, pressing kisses behind your ear, sliding slick fingertips across your belly as his toes play friendly games with the soles of your feet.

I want you.

Does he mean it? Could you? Could you kiss each other healthy, feel away the fear? Could you be brave in daylight, too?

Lying in his arms, you smell his want becoming a part of you, dawning, sparking a light. It is a dream-like space, where night uncloaks the sky, fading, blending into the brilliant colors of morning’s hopeful palette. And though revealing a rocky landscape, it’s better to travel, to commit to a difficult road now than in darkness.

But commitment has no patience for ambivalence. Attachment does not just begin and end. It is a tapestry lovingly woven, nurtured with time, care, patience. There is nothing safe and neat about it. Should the needle slip, blood will be shed. When its strength is tested, that is where the beauty of artistry gives way to functional durability.

He holds you with capable strength. It is sure, like the fury in his eyes that burned into you, sure as the mouth that stoked the fire so his lips could swallow the flames.

Even as his arms completely encircle you, he lets go of what you asked.

Because now, it is time. It is safe to let go.

“Meant every word I said.” His voice quietly caresses the shell of your ear. “I want you.” Pressing his mouth to the back of your neck, his lips seem…affectionate. “In all of those ways, I want you.” He’s sighing deeply, coasting his hands over the curve of your hips, the contours of your thighs, gently stroking the welts that will fade into darker shades. “I hope that’s enough right now.”

For the first time, you return his ready embrace, encouraging devoted dedication to the dense fabric of attachment.

**********************

Just give me a shout if you'd like to be added to the tag list ☺️

@yamaktaria @ocfairygodmother @cannedsoupsucks @samrubio @a-few-fandoms-too-many @sugarpuffsstuff @crankyphlebotomist @kiki93shelby @fluffnfiction @darthelomee @mandos-things @star-hoes @minx067

💕 Partner consent, communication, and trust are essential when engaging with any elements of BDSM. It's safer, more intimate, and just straight-up sexier to know what a partner wants, needs, and agrees to 💕

Safe. Sane. Consensual.

[weldnas]

i dunno if you've read this already but this is one of my favorite fics, and it's my fave amnesia fic. 😊💕 i'd love to know more about your fave fics too!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5297843

I did read that years ago I can't remember much of it but I do remember how I felt. I love it when stories breaks me just to put me back together so ofc I loved it

In absolutely no particular order here are most of my favourite fics:

Red Hands by reveries_passions

The wonderlands by stylinsoncity

Got the sunshine on my shoulders by hattalove

Counterbalance by YesIsAWorld

I could dream all night by fondleeds

Time Bomb by ThisSentimentalHeart

Half a million Strong and Gather no moss by middle (also known as the woodstock series)

Young Gods by sincewewereeighteen

I’ve been hoping you’d be somewhere better than this by runaway_train

Wear it like a crown by zarah5

Garden of Eden by superclass

Hold you Now by solvetheminourdreams

Being of the jealous kind by zita17

Given a Chance by Fabby

A love like war by sincewewereeighteen

For As Long As I Can Remember (It's Been December) by malishka1011

Homegrown by casuallyhl for allwaswell16

Walk That Mile by purpledaisy

Flightless Bird by audreyhheart

Our Lives, Non-Fiction by indiaalphawhiskey

Remember me fondly by middle

Something in the distance (so close you can almost taste it) by magiclou

Diamonds and Pearls by superglass

Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds

Stranger Stars by shaylea

But me, I’m not a gamble on orphan_account

A thousand mile from comfort by littlelouishiccups

Falling in love (with you) by stylesthebrave

where your lips land by BriaMaria for lululawrence (the tattoos fic!!)

Wild And Unruly by 100percentsassy, gloria_andrews

Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore

Pull Me Under by zarah5

I’ll throw away my fate (just to keep you safe) by theboyfriendinstagram

Love Is A Rebellious Bird by 100percentsassy, gloria_andrews

Escapade by dolce_piccante for betheproof

Fall At My Door by kingsofeverything

For Reasons Wretched and Divine by indiaalphawhiskey for dimpled_halo

like a bastard on the burning sea by vashtaneradas

For As Long As I Can Remember (It's Been December) by green_feelings

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry

Mine Would Be You by crinkle-eyed-boo (KimmieRocks)

Paint Me In A Million Dreams by green_feelings

And Touch Me Like You Never by runaway_train

My Lights Stay Up, But Your City Sleeps by PearlyDewdrops

Ten Days With Tommo by indiaalphawhiskey (whip)

A Love Like War by sincewewereeighteen for missdisaster

Young & Beautiful by Velvetoscar

Empty Skies by green_feelings

Hold me closer by balanced

And then a bit by infinitlymint

Home to you by Crowsonthewire

Ain't That A Kick In The Head! by keysmashlesbian, wreckingtomlinson (karasunonolibero)

Shake Me Down by AGreatPerhaps12A Love Like War by sincewewereeighteen

The Finish Line (Is A Good Place For Us To Start) by LoadedGunn

“That Sounds Fake But Okay” dancingontheceiling.

Into The Blue by zarah5

7 Up by cherrystreet

hush. by Wankerville

Perfect Storm by cherrystreet

California Sold by isthatyoularry (canon ish)

When The Stars Come Out by BriaMaria

One More Taste of Your Lips by Canadianlarrie (canadianlarrie), MsHydeStylinson

Never Be by cherrystreet

[lyssasdrafts]

hiii thank you so much for the tag 💕💕 hope you’re doing well <3

my top five favorite works are:

1. afterglow (azriel x reader) — this work is my favorite thing on this blog and i loved writing this cute love story and all the relationships with the acotar characters in a modern world

2. enchanted (azriel x reader) — i loved the idea of a vanserra reader meeting azriel when he’s supposed to be on a spy mission 👀 plus eris and lucien being protective older brothers

3. i have a childhood friends to lovers cassian fanfic that i haven’t finished yet but 🤭🤭 it’s super cute

4. unrequited love (azriel x reader) — i love writing angst in general

5. star-crossed (rhysand x reader) — its last place just because it’s not finished but 😭 i love writing the enemies to lovers dynamic in this series so much

✨️happy June 14th✨️

So first, today is Sophia's 6 month birthday 🥺🥺

Second, we are halfway through 2024. Isn't that insane?! I decided to start a tag game for us to celebrate everything we've accomplished so far this year.

I thought it would be fun for us to post our top 5 favorite things we've wrote/drawn, and have posted since I know some of us have gems hidden, to bring love to things that maybe haven't gotten the attention we wanted or that thrived💕

Fanart, moodboards, dividers. Headcanons, drabbles, one shots, or a chapter update to your epic on going fic, I don't care, I want to read and see them and give you love!

So, without further ado, here are mine in no real order:

Drumming Song - Summary - 49 long years without your mate finally comes to an end after Amarantha grants him one night of freedom - smut - Rhysand x reader

The Breakfast Club - Summary - After missing breakfast unexpectedly, a hidden relationship is revealed to Azriel's family, who can't tell if they're more surprised by you or his cat. - Fluff - Azriel x reader

Love Language - Summary - Lucien never wanted you to question his love, so he makes sure you never have to by leaving small reminders every time he leaves. - Fluff - Lucien x reader

Mine - Summary - Cassian always gets a little riled up when he gets to fight for your honor. - Smut - Cassian x reader

Limbo - Summary - You would never be able to move on from your untimely death. Not while the two males you loved kept you trapped here. - Angst - Tamlin x Rhysand's Sister Reader

No obligation tags to: @claireswritingcorner @honeybeefae @thehighladywrites @labyrinth-of-stories-and-stars @danikamariewrites @sarawritestories @milswrites @itsswritten @illyrianbitch @acourtofladydeath @nocasdatsgay @littlestw01f @loneliestluvr @lady-of-tearshed @hopeinvelaris @daycourtofficial @writingcroissant @acotarxreader @pit-and-the-pen @historiaxvanserra @utterlyazriel @dawneternal @stormhearty @tsumani-of-tears @secret-third-thing @teddyhoneybear @zenkindoflove @ninthcircleofprythian @achaotichuman @hieragalbatorixdottir @artists-ally @invisibleanonymousmonsters @lucienarcheron @tadpolesonalgae @serpentandlily @azrielsdove

really anyone who'd like to do it 💕