#all of them. all of the princess. i even split some of them into two | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stellamarielu · 3 months ago

Text

on the job

joel miller x female reader

summary: you and joel are forced to work together, but neither of you can get past the others stubborn attitude or contractor!joel and interior designer!reader fuck in a walk-in closet

content: nsfw, 18+ mdni, pre outbreak!joel, he’s kind of a huge asshole sorry, teasing, degradation, dirty talk, slightly dubcon, fingering, use of nicknames such as princess sweetheart and good girl, finger sucking, unprotected p in v sex, rough sex, sex against a wall, kinda public sex bc it’s on a job site?? pull out game strong with this one

author’s note: based on this lovely request. i made joel a little mean bc it felt right but at the end of the day he will forever be babygirl. also, i know very little about both of these professions so i apologize for any inaccuracies in that department

You liked to think that you were easy to work with, always polite and mindful— pleasant even.

You mostly kept to yourself, especially when you were working on a project alongside others, however, not everyone shared your cooperative mindset.

In fact, you had worked with a multitude of assholes. Men who thought they held some kind of power over you, who flourished under the opportunity to demean and mock your job like theirs was more important, but none of them even held a candle to Joel Miller.

Your paths crossed when you were hired by a pretentious, middle-aged woman in Austin to help design the interior of her new home— a home that was still under construction.

To make yourself familiar with the layout, you visited the site multiple times in the weeks before construction was scheduled to finish.

It was always an easy and uneventful trip. You greeted the workers, took a few pictures, wrote down some dimensions and then you were gone in twenty minutes tops; but that all changed the day you met Joel.

You waltzed into the house, waving to one of the men you had come to know from your previous visits and then you heard it, a deep berating voice targeted directly at you.

“Who the hell are you and why are you on my site without a fuckin’ hard hat?”

You stopped in your tracks as you were met with an unknown face.

“Uh sorry. I’m working on an interior design project for the Johnson’s. They told me I was welcome to come check out the space if I needed anything.” You didn’t know why, but your voice was coming out in compliance, the tone hushed.

The way this man approached you was incredibly entitled and unabashedly rude.

Normally you wouldn’t let some asshole like this get within two feet of you, let alone talk to you like that; but this guy had you questioning your morals for a split second. He was tall, and broad, and handsome. The southern drawl slipping from the smug curl of his lips and the flex of his biceps as his arms crossed over his chest, had your words stuttering.

“Well, until my job is finished, and the Johnson’s have the keys to their front door, I call the shots. And I don’t do well with unexpected visitors walkin’ around while my guys are trying to get work done.”

Your mouth nearly hung open at his words.

You’d barely said a word to him and he was coming at you with a disgustingly brash and assertive attitude. What the hell was his deal?

“Okay...” The word was drawn-out as it fell from your lips in annoyance.

“Well, it’s kind of funny, because this is probably the fifth time I’ve been here, and none of your guys seem to give a rats ass, so how about you let me do my job and I’ll let you do yours.”

Finally, you had gotten past the stranger’s criminally good looks and stuck to your guns.

There was no way in hell you were going to let him reprimand you for doing your job. Afterall, you had every right to be here.

“Yeah well, my guys will let you do whatever you want when you’re prancin’ around here in tight little dresses and high heels. You think they’re just bein’ nice for the hell of it?”

His irritation was masked by amusement as he looked you up and down, dramatically raking his eyes over your body.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but I’d really appreciate it if you could just drop the attitude and keep things professional.” The quality of your voice was stern, juxtaposing the way his eyes on your body had you suddenly feeling a rush of heat throughout your chest.

Anger.

The warmth was an angry fervor, definitely not one of lust or temptation. It was a burning irritation for the man standing in front of you, not a curious warmth for how his eyes clung to every curve of your body, taking his time drinking in any exposed skin.

His smile widened as he watched you falter under his stare. “I’ll drop my attitude when you drop yours sweetheart.”

“Listen, Mr-“

“Miller. Joel Miller.”

“Okay, Mr. Joel Miller. I have work to do, so I’m just going to walk past you, take a few notes and I’ll be out of your hair. Deal?”

“Fine. But if I see you back here again you better be wearin’ a hard hat. Don’t need any trouble because you trip and hit your pretty little head.” He let his eyes wander down your body once more, his voice full of sarcasm.

“Yeah yeah, got it boss.” You scoffed as you pushed past his broad frame. You didn’t turn to look back, but you could practically feel his eyes burning into you as you swayed into the entry way, hoping it was the last time you’d ever have to speak to him.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

You ran into Joel a few more times, each meeting more infuriating and demeaning than the last. He always had a smart comment on his tongue or a mocking intention in his voice.

Joel Miller had quickly become the bane of your existence; yet, for some reason there was a part of you, deep down, that always hoped to run into him when you went to scout out a new project for the house.

Maybe because he was undeniably handsome, always walking around with a charming smirk on his lips and a devious glint in his big brown eyes. It was almost as if he were challenging you— seeing how far he could push you before you snapped.

He continued to test your patience as you now stood in the giant walk-in closet off the primary bedroom.

You were trying to establish a color scheme sophisticated enough to fit Miss Johnson’s impossible to please pallet while Joel was making unnecessarily loud noises across the room.

He was far from graceful, the slamming and pounding of tools was all you could hear as he worked on one of the many intricate shoe shelves on the wall.

“I thought this side of the house was done.” You were speaking without looking in his direction, your eyes following the paint swatches on the wall.

“Was.” Joel’s voice was gruff as he continued working.

“Until the queen decided she needed more storage for all her designer shit.” He was chuckling at his own words, side eyeing you from his spot kneeling on the floor.

“You are genuinely the most unprofessional person I’ve ever met.” You dismissed his rude comment about the woman you were both employed by.

“That right?”

You refused to look at him, but you could hear the delight in his voice.

“Absolutely.” Your response was curt, a quick and straight-forward delivery.

“Good.”

As if you couldn’t hate him more, the word leaving his lips had you turning your head sharply in his direction, an appalled expression plastered across your face.

“God you get on my last nerve.”

“That right?” Again, his lips tugged into a smirk as he looked at you.

You raised your brows in annoyance with a single nod of your head at his question.

“Good.” His voice was taunting as he watched you shake your head in frustration.

You brought your eyes back to the wall in front of you, not giving Joel another second of your attention.

After a few seconds of silence his deep voice broke into the room. “You know, if you weren’t so uptight, maybe I’d ask you out for a drink sometime.”

It took you a minute to register his words. Was he implying that he wanted to ask you on a date while insulting you at the same time? What a fucked-up, backhanded compliment; one that had your chest stirring with warmth.

“Well, I guess it’s too bad I’m such an high-strung bitch then.” Sarcasm dripped from your words as you kept your eyes trained ahead, your head spinning from Joel’s implicit interest.

“I doubt you’d last one minute in the bar I’d take you to anyway.”

His comment had your head snapping back again. This time his eyes were already on you, waiting to see a reaction.

“And why’s that?” Your voice cut through the room at his assumption.

“Because it’s not exactly a five star establishment, and I think you’re just like all these pretentious fucks you work for.” He raised an eyebrow at you before turning back to the shelf in front of him, tending to a few finishing touches.

“Always so put together, walking around here with your shoulders high.” He was nonchalant as he criticized you, hands busy taking measurements, not even paying an ounce of attention to the dirty look you were currently shooting at him from the other side of the room.

“You think you’re better than everyone, but you’re just another pretty face with an overblown ego.”

There it was. The final blow that had your body tensing with anger.

You couldn’t believe that just a few seconds ago you were letting him flatter you, swooning under the smallest inkling of positivity he threw your way.

He was the worst kind of guy, the kind that built you up just to tear you down. The kind that wanted to make you feel worse about yourself so you would go running to him for a semblance of positive reinforcement.

Joel Miller liked the chase— thrived off being such a douchebag that women somehow ended up falling on their knees for him. But you, you weren’t going to be that woman.

“Me? Talk about a massive-fucking-ego, take a look in the mirror Miller. You’re the one always making sure I know my place around here, acting like a fucking sociopath. It’s like you get off on being an asshole.”

He stopped what he was doing and looked directly at you, his expression unreadable, like your cruel words caused a switch in him to flip.

“Maybe I do.”

“What?”

“Maybe I like gettin’ under your skin, watchin’ you get all flustered.” He spoke slowly, setting down his materials and standing to his feet.

“Think it’s kinda cute. You’re always tryin’ to act all big and bad, but I know I make you nervous. I can see it in the way you look at me.” He didn’t move, the smirk on his face causing your eyebrows to furrow in irritation.

You crossed your arms over your chest, standing strong on your opinion that Joel was the world’s biggest asshole. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting his words get to you.

“You can stop wherever you’re going with this. I’m not here to play your little bullshit games, I’m here to do a job and get paid.”

“Who says you can’t have a little fun on the job?” His voice was laced with a deep seriousness as he set his tools down on one of the many shelves adorning the walls. You watched him over your shoulder but kept your back turned, your body still facing the wall.

“Turn around.” The command left his lips and you wanted to laugh at his attempt of authority but the sincerity in his voice stopped you in your tracks.

“What? No-“

“C’mon sweetheart, I think we both know you like bein’ told what to do.” His voice cut you off, the signature smirk on his lips sending a buzz straight to your head.

You didn’t mean to, or maybe you did, but your body turned to face him, watching intently as he continued speaking. His broad frame emphatic as he stood across from you.

“I bet you like it, having someone boss you around. Makes you feel a little inferior.”

As the words left his lips he began walking toward you.

It was a casual stroll, not intense or threatening, yet you felt your pulse racing and your posture slumping at his advances.

“Oh please. You need a reality check Joel.”

“Wanna give it to me princess?”

You kept the appearance of control as he continued moving forward, but internally you were fighting feelings of complete disarray.

You wanted to be offended— maybe even slap him across the face for his wildly inappropriate nickname and the implication of his words. But instead, you froze, his body now less than a foot away from yours and his words ringing in your ears.

There was absolutely no denying the way his statement had your thighs clenching and your head spinning. Something in his delivery, smug and dirty with his eyes holding a perverted hunger and a promise of follow through, made you weak.

You kept your body from jolting when you felt the touch of his hand wrapping around your waist, finding purchase dangerously low on your back.

“Bet you’ve never done anythin’ like this.” His voice was sturdy— rigid with power.

The weight of his hand was rough, his palm resting just above the curve of your ass. His touch was heavy yet temperate as he held you, softly pulling you’re your body further into his.

“Lettin’ some guy you barely know put his hands all over you.”

You watched his eyes carefully, your lips parted but you couldn’t find any words to fill them. You weren’t sure if you wanted to tell him to stop or keep going.

“Bet all the guys you hook up with are just as prim and proper as you. Can’t imagine that those dipshits graduating from UT with a business degree are fuckin’ you the right way.”

His other hand came to the small of your waist, the movement sending a faint gasp straight to your lips. Your reaction had Joel smirking, reinforcing his grip on your body.

“Probably don’t even know how to get you off.”

“You’re disgusting.” Your voice was a whisper. The insult that you meant to hurl his way dissolved in a pitiful sigh at the way his fingertips were latching onto you.

“Am I? Bet you like that too.” This time he leaned in, causing his words to land directly in your ear, his breath warm on your neck.

“Bet you want someone a little rough around the edges. Someone to fuck you real nice.”

As he spoke, his fingers curled into your body. His grip on you constricting.

His frame pushed into yours, sending you shuffling backward until your back was met with the solid friction of the wall.

“Joel..”

You were searching in your mind, trying to form an articulate sentence to explain why this was wrong; why you couldn’t be in this position with him.

But he had you trapped against the weight of his body— big and wide and rough.

Every single rational thought in your head dissipated, replaced by an instinctual need to have him fuck you against the wall of this ridiculously expensive closet.

He was right, you’d never done anything like this and the excitement of it— the risk, had your entire body burning with white-hot desire.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” His hands were holding your hips, pressing you into the wall with his chest dangerously close to yours.

“But I don’t think you want me to.” For a single second you could see an indication of honesty in his eyes as he looked you over, searching for any sign of distress on your face. And when he couldn’t find it, his stare narrowed and his hands held tighter, rotating your body in his grasp until your chest was pressed against the wall.

“I think,” He leaned into you, your ass pushing against the bulge in his jeans as his hum landed on the skin right beneath your ear.

“You want me to lift up this pretty little dress and fuck you nice and hard right here, against this wall.”

His hands found the hem of your dress, bringing it up just enough to bunch at your waist.

Your lower half was almost bare, the only clothing keeping your cunt from being fully exposed to him was the little black thong encasing the dripping mess that had now built up between your legs. It didn’t stop him from reaching between your bodies, pressing his thumb against your clothed entrance.

“Fuck- you’re soaked princess.” The first word was a prolonged throaty groan, the rest of the sentence fumbling behind it.

“How long you been thinkin’ bout this huh? Me touchin’ you, makin’ you beg for it.” He was having too much fun playing with you through your panties, his thumb threatening to dip into you even with the lace still covering your entrance.

He pushed against it, moving between your clothed folds and marveling at the wetness seeping through the material.

“I’m not begging.” You managed to hiss out a response, turning your head to peer at him, your cheek nearly pressing against the wall.

“Oh, so she’s always mouthy huh?”

You watched the diabolical grin eat away at his face from the power trip of having you trapped under his weight.

You could talk-back all you wanted— be as bratty and uncooperative as possible, but it didn’t change the fact that he had you right where he wanted you.

“Keep talkin’ baby, go on.” He innocently raised his brows at you, his voice taunting as the weight of his thumb danced between your legs.

“I Know you want this too. You act like you can’t stand me, but I see the way you look at me…” Your voice was quiet but strong as you held onto the last bit of composure you had left, using it to defy the man at your back.

You were trying your best not to lose your train of thought as you spoke. You wouldn’t give up the fight that easily, succumbing to his tempting words and lewd touches. You could tell Joel was used to getting his way and every muscle in your body ached to challenge him.

“The way your eyes are glued to my ass every time I walk past you.” You glared over your shoulder as the words drifted off your lips in a gentle accusation.

His dark chuckle filled the room as his eyes darted away from yours for a short second. Then his stare was back on you— more intense than before. The two of you watching each other, sitting in a pool of mutual revelation.

You both knew it.

You knew since day one that there was a shared attraction, an unspoken sexual tension hidden behind rude words and unsavory exchanges.

What was happening now was just a detonation of built-up pressure that had been stewing for weeks; evident in the wetness at your core and the bulge in Joel’s jeans.

“Anythin’ else you wanna say? Should probably get it all out before I have you all fucked-out on my cock.” His voice dropped to a low whisper as he hooked his thumb into your underwear, pulling the material to the side, not even bothering to take them off completely.

A soft gasp slid from your lips at the cool air meeting your newly exposed center, the slick pooling at your entrance only adding to the airy sensation.

“You’re so fucking arrogant.”

The words barely left your lips when you felt his touch meet your core, his fingers spreading your arousal.

You had more to say to him, you wanted to tell him how annoying he was and how you had lost every ounce of decency by letting him talk to you this way, but the words were caught in your throat as he pushed two fingers into you.

“Maybe I have good reason to be.”

Your eyes were squeezed shut at the unexpected feeling of him filling you with his fingers, yet you could hear the smirk dripping in his voice.

“You ever think about that sweetheart?”

His words were impatient, the initial drive of his fingers into your entrance was rough, but now they slowly worked into you. His movements were careful— cautious even.

It was as if he wanted to take his time, watching your body and listening to the shaky breaths leave your lips.

His hand worked between your legs, searching for the exact technique that would send you spewing profanities and crumbling against the wall.

He curled his fingertips at just the right spot, not too deep and not too forceful, just a gentle pulse that had an impulsive whimper pouring from your chest.

“Maybe I’m so arrogant because I know I’m good at what I do.” His words held a double meaning as he added a third finger to stroke your newfound sweet spot.

You almost yelped from the stretch, but you held it back as best you could, refusing to give him the gratification of your submission.

The position he had you in; back arched and ass pushed out, made it almost embarrassingly easy for the addition of a third digit as he watched them to sink into you.

You couldn’t help but hum in approval as he stroked you repeatedly, rubbing against the inviting drawl of your walls. You tried not to lose yourself at his fingertips, knowing from the familiar coil of pleasure in your core that he could have you coming on his fingers at any given moment.

“Thought you were gonna fuck me, huh?” Your voice was a string of moans as you tried your best to form a coherent sentence with his hand pushed between your bodies.

As much as you didn’t want his movements to stop, you also didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you finish when he’d barely even gotten his hands on you.

Knowing Joel, he would never let you live it down. He’d ride around on his metaphorical high horse and crown himself the king of female orgasms. So instead of letting him bring you to the precipice of release, you met him with a phrase of defiance. But your challenging words were really just a gateway to get what you wanted. You could put on a tough act, but at the end of the day Joel was right, you did want him to fuck you in way no one ever had— hungry and hard against the wall, right here in your client’s house.

In fact, the thought of it had taken over every fiber of your being. The anticipation of feeling him rail into you was clouding your judgement and coursing through your veins at an alarming speed.

“Think you can take it?” His growl stuck in your ears as he pulled out of you. The lewd noises of his fingers plunging into the slick mess at your folds was quickly replaced by the sound of him fumbling with his belt buckle.

“How d’you want it, huh baby? You the sentimental type? Want it nice and slow and deep? Or d’you just wanna be ruined? Want someone to be a little rough with ya?” He was asking, but you couldn’t help but note the rhetorical quality of his words as you heard the rustle of his jeans pushing down his thighs.

“That’s sweet of you to give me choice, maybe you don’t like control as much as I thought- “

Your sarcastic remark was cut short at the abrupt stretch of Joel’s length slamming into you.

“Rough it is then.” His voice was a deep grunt echoing from behind you as he paused, giving you a split second to adjust before pulling back out and thrusting into you again.

“Shit princess, didn’t think you’d be this fuckin’ tight.”

His voice swam with amusement and pleasure as he watched the way his dick fully disappeared into you with each thrust of his hips.

Hands pulled at your waist as you felt Joel drive deeper with every breathless groan floating off his lips.

“Look at you, takin’ me like such a good girl.” The words weren’t sweet, instead they teased you, shooting out of his mouth with a mocking tenor.

You couldn’t keep your body from reacting to his praise, albeit contemptuous, the words still held a deep truth about the situation unfolding against the wall of your shared employer’s closet.

“Oh, you like that don’t ya? When I tell you what a good girl you are?” His voice was a broken growl of grunts and sighs as he fucked into you— vigorous and desperate.

His pace was unrelenting as he held onto your waist, pulling you back to meet him with every drive of his hips into yours.

He let one of his hands travel up your body until he was reaching for your jaw, tilting your head up and back until your body was arched at a sinful angle.

“See, I knew you just needed a good fuck.” His groan was right in your ear now that he held your head close to his, the grip he had on your jaw was firm.

It was becoming impossible for you to keep quiet, the strength and depth of his thrusts were causing explicit moans to skate past yours lips.

The hand that Joel was using to hold your face was now maneuvering to your mouth in an effort to muffle the obscene sounds rolling off your tongue. Two of his fingers pushed at your lips, hooking into your mouth.

“Knew that little attitude a’yours was all for show.”

You closed your lips around his digits as he railed into you, a guttural moan sliding up your throat and humming onto his fingers.

“Fuck.” His fowl groan was a direct result of your soft mouth sucking around his fingers, mimicking the way you had his cock encased between your legs.

You invited his touch onto your tongue, swirling around his thick digits and sucking him in deeper, earning a prolonged sigh from Joel as he fucked into you even harder.

Each stroke of his cock had your body pressing further into the wall— his pace was mean and unyielding, like he had something to prove.

With the hand not in your mouth, Joel reached around your body, his fingertips finding your clit and rubbing quick careless circles over the bundle of nerves.

Your body faltered under his touch, your knees slightly buckling, and if it weren’t for the weight of his body trapping you against the wall, you’d be a puddle on the floor.

He slowed his pace slightly, taking his time to find that spot along your walls again. The one that he discovered just minutes ago when he was three fingers deep in your dripping cunt.

Whines of approval vibrated against the pads of his fingertips still pressing down on your tongue. His hips began rocking into you at just the right angle— slow and deliberate, with the goal of feeling you coming undone on his cock.

“That it baby? Right there?” Again, his words were a sadistic tease, but his voice gave way to pitiful throaty whines.

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t even think with the way he was working you toward your release.

Everything felt so overwhelming, his unrelenting thrusts hitting you in the perfect place, his touch on your clit, rough and impatient and his fingers filling your mouth— all of it creating the perfect storm of inconceivable pleasure.

A jolt of relief surged through your body as the pressure inside you snapped. You let yourself fall further into the wall as Joel’s name slipped from your mouth in a chant.

Hearing his name on your lips in such a distant and dazed voice, had Joel’s cock pulsing. Your walls were clenching from your climax, sucking him in deeper and he couldn’t handle the abundance of warmth enveloping him.

Both of his hands came down to your hips, fingers digging into your skin as held tight.

His thrusts were merciless as he used you to reach his peak, chasing the familiar buildup of tension in his core as he drove into you at a startling pace.

Then he pulled out abruptly.

One hand on his cock, stroking just twice before spilling onto the skin of your lower back, the other pushing your dress further up your body to keep it from becoming a jizz painted mess.

Silence filled the room.

Neither of you spoke as your hands pushed against the wall underneath your palms. You stayed pressed there, Joel’s body still behind you evident in the ragged breaths leaving his chest.

Still no words were exchanged as you felt Joel take a step back, the warmth of his presence fading just slightly.

You dared to break your pleasure induced trance to look over your shoulder, only find him pulling his jeans back up his body and tightening his belt without even sparing you a glance.

You began to move until you were reminded of the thick warm mess resting on your back, keeping you from pulling your dress down.

Before you could do anything, Joel was back behind you, hooking his fingers into the waist band of your panties and tugging them down your legs. He stopped at your ankles to tap against your skin, prompting you to step out of them.

Once the lacy material was fully in his grasp, he brought them up to your lower back, using them to gather his spend. He cleaned his mess with the lacy material then pulled your dress back down to cover your lower half. A sticky residue was left on your backside as a plaguing reminder of what had just transpired between you.

You turned to face him, watching as he crumpled up your ruined underwear and shoved it into his back pocket with a smirk on his face.

“How about that drink? Could meet you tomorrow night, should be done here around five.” He was back across the room in an instant, gathering tools and not bothering to look in your direction.

His invitation was genuine, but his words lacked interest.

“I’ll get these back to you then.” His hand came to rest on his back pocket, fingers tapping against the denim holding your used panties.

A self-righteous smile sat on his face as he shot you a look of pure deviance before his eyes were back on his hands as they worked to gather his materials.

“Yeah, okay.” Your voice came out more flustered than you intended as you smoothed out your dress over your thighs.

Joel was heading for the closet door, tool bag clutched in his hand as he gave you one last gaze of victory.

“It’s a date.” The words were a grumble from his lips, the same ones that were busy parading a smug smile.

Then he left you standing alone in the small room, your mind racing around itself and your legs still trembling.

A subtle grin rested on your face as you stared down at the floor, trying to find some sort of equilibrium before even attempting to move.

The giant walk-in closet still encasing a lingering heat of reckless choices as you prepared to go on with your day— business as usual.

my masterlist

#posting this on my lunch break lmao #enjoy a little afternoon delight from me to you #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut

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smutoperator · 4 months ago

Text

Erotic Ballet

Nakamura Kazuha x Male Reader

Tags: acrobatic positions, anal, ankles over her head, ballerina, facefucking, facial, gape, (lots of) floor sex, instructor/professor, leg lifting, leg stretching, mirror sex, nude dancing, pile driver, practice room, prone bone, (lots of) splits

Word count: 5041

You have just arrived at the Source Music installations for your job as the new designated ballet instructor for one of the Le Sserafim members. As you approach the practice room, two girls greet you and show you the way. "Zuha is inside already," Chaewon says. "I think you two will have a blast, she's got amazing ballet skills," Yunjin tells you. "We'll do some shopping and come back later," they tell you.

Indeed, as you open the door, a gorgeous yet super athletic girl is right there waiting for you.

"You must be our ballet instructor. It's nice to meet you," Kazuha tells you. "It's a pleasure as well," you answer. As you look at her beautiful body, you feel like pictures don't do justice to her. From her princess face to her muscular long legs, everything about her looks amazing.

"Let's start dancing," you command to Kazuha. The beautiful Japanese girl follows, putting a classical ballet song on the speakers, and you quickly get impressed by the way she moves. She's very graceful yet extremely strong, landing her moves to perfection as she works her long legs, opening them in very wide angles and performing hard landings with extreme ease.

"Wow, I knew you were a ballerina before, but you haven't lost a step despite no longer doing ballet regularly, I should have known that already, from seeing your practices I could tell your transition to hip-hop dancing was very smooth," you tell her. "Thanks, professor, I always want to stay sharp at all the dances I learn, glad you liked it," Kazuha answered.

The more Kazuha kept dancing, the more you became enamored with her. Watching her get all sweaty, those long, toned legs working out, her beautiful face, her sexy butt, everything about her was perfect, she truly felt like a real-life doll, and you were finally ready to make some moves.

"Let's take a little break," you told Kazuha, giving her butt a little tap just as she had started doing her signature move of lifting her legs over her head. "Sure, professor, did I look good in my ballet performance?" she asked. "Definitely, but we still have to make some adjustments," you told her.

"What kind of adjustments, professor? I can do this right now" Kazuha asks you as she finishes drinking some water. "I think we should explore the full fluidity of your body, let you dance gracefully with no clothes on, have you ever tried that?" you ask her.

"P-professor, do you want me to dance completely naked? Isn't that inappropriate?" Kazuha asks you. "Most instructors would say so, but my method works, it makes ballerinas lose their inhibition and get less afraid to make their moves on stage," you tell her. "I know you've got great stage presence already, Zuha, but after this, you'll never be the same," you continue. "If you can dance in front of me without any clothes on, you can deal with any audience," you finish.

"Sure, professor," Kazuha says, taking her clothes off as she starts dancing naked, showcasing her body in full display. Your eyes go straight into her fit abs, as this is the first time you've seen them in person, you are still baffled that such a pretty face like hers got an even hotter lower body.

As you predicted, Kazuha starts her nude dancing performance much more restrained. "Lose your inhibition, forget about me, stay concentrated, and perform as if you're the only person in this room," you tell Kazuha. She tries to do as you ask, but at the same time, she's also starting to get turned on by looking at you as she dances.

Just as you told her, Kazuha finally loses her inhibition, but instead of performing to herself, she starts teasing you, pulling out some erotic moves out of her bag, starting by performing a full split on the floor while she grinds her pussy on it, coating it with a mix of sweat and her juices. She then opens and closes her legs, spreading her cheeks in your direction to gape her little pink asshole for you, finally ending the performance with her signature leg lifting with one of her fingers pointing right at her pussy.

"Professor, can we dance together?" Kazuha asks you. "Sure, let's dance, Zuha," you tell her, pouring some oil into her naked butt and rubbing it before giving her ass a little spanking. "You're gonna shine a lot with me," you tell her.

Kazuha starts softly moaning as she fully embraces her horny ballerina character. "Shall we start with some floor exercises, professor?" she asks you, pushing your body in the direction of the practice room's wooden floor, promptly teasing you with her big butt to a point you can't resist, diving between her cheeks as you start licking her folds.

"Slow down, professor, looks like you're losing your inhibition," Kazuha says as she starts feeling your tongue in her pink holes. "Get on the floor and please me for being an A+ student," she continues, as Kazuha starts spreading her legs until she does a full split, sitting right in your face with her beautiful big ass.

"Ahhhh, ahhhh, fuck, professor, your tongue is so good in her pussy," Kazuha says as you waste no time eating her out. Drops of her sweat fall all over her body and soon her juices also start coating your mouth. "AHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHHH, AHHHHHH," Kazuha moans louder and louder, taking advantage of being in a soundproof room while starting grinding her folds on your face.

You eat Kazuha's pussy with such intensity she ends up closing her legs a bit to deal with the heat. "I want them fully open at all times, show me you're one of the best," you tell her, Kazuha promptly obliging and getting herself back into a full split position, your tonguing in her cunt more intense than ever.

Kazuha looks down, watching your tongue emerge even with your face buried under her big ass, licking her pussy right between her clit and her trimmed bush. She keeps grinding, closing her eyes, and moaning as you tongue her meaty clit that pops out of her cunt. "AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH," Kazuha keeps moaning.

"That's right," Kazuha says as you reach to grope her little tits while eating her out. "AHHHHH," she feels a big contraction in her abs as you increase the speed of your tonguing, making her close her legs once again, grabbing her slim waist and then unzipping your pants just enough to start jerking your cock off.

Kazuha quickly gets impressed with the size of that throbbing cock, itching more and more to have a taste of it, moaning loud as you pull it back in your pants to touch her tits. "I want to suck your cock, professor, put it back out," she tells you.

"Such a hungry girl," you tell Kazuha, grinding her naked body against your clothed cock while you finger her pussy. "AHHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHHH," she moans loudly as you massage her clit before putting her legs down and worshipping her body. Kazuha then gets on the floor, opening her legs in a full split as she starts sucking your cock. "Ohhhh yeah," you tell her. "I knew you had a big cock," she tells you, popping it in and out of her mouth.

Kazuha spits hard and bobs her head at full speed in your big cock. "Stick your toungue out," you tell her, slapping your cock in Kazuha's mouth before she licks your balls while jerking them off. "Fuckkk," you groan, grabbing her hair as you push it deep into her throat while she grinds her pussy against the wooden floor.

You test Kazuha, pounding her face and then choking and spitting on her a little bit, before going back to the facefucking session. Much to your surprise, she takes it like a champion, even moving her head by herself. "Damn, looks like someone already taught you a lot about that," you tell her. "Yes, my unnies told me all I needed to suck that cock," Kazuha answers, pushing it harder in her mouth.

The faceufucking continues as you try your best to make Kazuha gag on your cock, but she's no slouch, slapping your thick cock all over her pretty face and bobbing her head hard, then stroking your cock fast, enjoying your tip pop in and out of your foreskin. "I love this big fucking cock," she tells you, slapping it again.

Kazuha is so sweaty and her mouth gets your cock so wet so quickly that you can no longer resist the urge of fucking her. "You want this cock in your pussy, don't you?", you say to her. "Look in the mirror, you're so beautiful," you tell her, pushing Kazuha in its direction, pinning her against the ballet barre, grinding your cock against her big ass while she moans.

You take your shirt off as Kazuha spreads her right leg in the barre. "OHHHHHH, OHHHHHH," she moans as you reach to finger her pussy as she squirts on the floor. "I always dreamed of getting fucked like that, professor," she tells you. "Then let's fulfill those dreams," you tell her, lowering your pants just enough to push your big cock up her tight pussy.

"AHHHHHH, AHHHHHHH, AHHHHHH," Kazuha promptly starts moaning loudly as your cock stretches her pink pussy. You don't ease up, pumping her pussy hard from the get-go as her tight walls clenching over your cock drive you crazy. "Show me you're the sexiest ballerina ever," you tell her as your right hand grabs her ass.

"FUCKKKKK, FUCKKKK, FUCKKKK, FUCKKKK," Kazuha curses as her pussy gets pounded nonstop, holding as hard as she can to the barre as your thrusts get faster each time. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," she screams as your balls start clapping hard against her throbbing clit, you grabbing her waist as her body bounces.

"OH SHIT, AHHHHH," Kazuha screams again as you surprise her by hitting her big ass. Your pants get lower and lower as you pound her pussy, you now choking her neck and letting out animalesque groans while fucking the Japanese ballerina. "What a delicious pussy you've got to your professor," you tell Kazuha. "Glad you liked it," she answers.

You start massaging Kazuha's butthole as you keep taking her pussy. "AHHHH YESS, PROFESSOR, WORK YOUR MAGIC IN MY ASSHOLE, YEAH, YEAH YEAH" she begs as you drill her pussy hard. You tell Kazuha to look in the mirror as you choke her hard. "Look at how slutty you are with your professor's cock deep in your tight pussy," you tell her.

Kazuha clings hard to the barre as you push her further apart from it while drilling her pussy at full speed. "AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," she keeps screaming as your thrusts get more and more animalesque and your hips clap against her plump asscheeks. "OH MY GOD YOU FUCK ME SO GOOD, PROFESSOR," she screams.

"Get on the floor," you tell Kazuha as you finish the first pounding session. The Japanese beauty quickly obliges, positioning herself in a crab position facing the floor while you take your clothes completely off. "Oh that's perfect," you tell her, getting on your knees and shoving your cock straight into her mouth,

You massage Kazuha's tits and kiss her beautiful abs as she bobs her head on your shaft, then slowly reaches to finger her pussy to put more pressure on her. Zuha resists, moving up and down your cock like a champion. You start fucking her face hard, slapping and sucking her tits as you use her mouth like a fleshlight. "Oh fuck," you groan as Kazuha's lips wrap all over your throbbing shaft.

Kazuha shows massive strength, barely budging as you pound her face and finger her cunt. "You like that professor's big cock, you fucking slut?" you ask her, Kazuha not answering cause her mouth is full of your cock.

After you're done, you lift Kazuha up and stick your cock back in her pussy, carrying her back into the ballet barre. "AHHHHH," she moans as you stay with your cock inside her at all moments, her legs fully spread as your thrusts push her hard against the barre. "YES, YES, YES, YES" she screams, the barre creaking as her big ass grinds against it, Kazuha clinging to the room's walls between the mirrors just not to fall.

"FUCK ME HARDER, PROFESSOR, PLEASE," Kazuha begs as you mercilessly destroy her cunt. "If you say so," you tell Kazuha, grabbing her tall body and lifting her in the air, pounding her pussy hard as you carry-fuck her and your balls clap hard against her cheeks. "AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHHH, YEAHH, YEAHH, YEAH, AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," Kazuha can't stop screaming as she gets drilled hard. "Such a sexy ballerina," you tell her.

You put Kazuha back on the ground but she quickly flips herself upside down. "Hold my legs and grab my ass, professor," she tells you, planting her palms on the floor while spreading her legs, putting her recently pounded pussy right in your mouth. "Eat it, professor," she tells you, as you massage her butt and lick her clit.

"So good, my pussy is so amazing, isn't it, professor?" Kazuha asks as you savor it to the fullest. She pushes her head closer to your cock, stretching hard to perform an extremely acrobatic 69 as she bobs her head on your cock. "I want more of that fucking cock inside me," she says.

"Watch this, professor," Kazuha says as she gets back up and lifts her left leg over her. "Is this your favorite position?" you ask her. "Yes, professor, put it back in my pussy," she tells you as you guide your cock back inside her. "Oh yes, so good, so deep in my tight little pussy," Kazuha says as you grab her leg and fuck her, making sure she doesn't lose her balance, but she once again proves to be strong.

"OH FUCK, OH FUCK, OH FUCK, AHHH," Kazuha screams as you attack her pussy harder, grabbing her bouncy little tits as well. "YES, YES, YES," she continues to scream, stretching her body as much as you stretch her cunt, you now choking her neck as she stands. "FUCK ME, PROFESSOR, JUST LIKE THAT, YOU'RE MAKING MY PUSSY SO FUCKING WET, DON'T FUCKING STOP, RIGHT THERE, RIGHT THERE, YESSSS" she continues to scream as she gets drilled in just one leg.

"That's incredible, you fuck me so good, professor," Kazuha says as she tries to finger her pussy, but you fuck her so hard she has to preoccupy herself more not to fall down.

You drop Zuha back to the ground, her quickly getting her knees to suck your cock. "Professor, you got such a great cock, wanna see me doing the splits on it?" Kazuha asks. "Of course," you promptly answer, dropping to the floor. as Kazuha slowly descends her pussy down your cock and starts splitting her legs more and more the deeper your cock gets inside her.

You spank Kazuha's plump butt, giving her the signal she needs to start bouncing on your cock. "Oh fuck," she moans as your cock impales her pussy. But Zuha shows her strength once again, quickly increasing the pace of her ride and giving you a perfect view of her big butt as she moves up and down that thick cock.

"OH FUCK, THAT'S SO DEEP IN ME, YOUR DICK IS SO FUCKING GODO," Kazuha moans as she keeps squatting on your cock with her legs performing a full split. Of all ballerinas you have fucked before, she seems to easily be the one that uses her flexibility the most to her advantage, as she keeps smashing your cock with seismic bounces that produce an earthquake every time her big butt hits your crotch.

"FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK YEAH," Kazuha keeps moaning, making good work of your cock. You can no longer resist the urge, pumping your cock up her pussy and grabbing her ass as you pound her hard. "DON'T STOP, DON'T STOP, DON'T STOP, FUCKKK," Kazuha screams, matching your thrusts with even faster bounces, her cheeks making loud sounds multiple times each second.

"I want to fuck that ass," you tell Kazuha. "Of course you do, professor, no one can resist a big fat ass like mine," she answers, flaunting her backside assets while she bounces them hard on your cock.

Kazuha gets on all fours on the floor as you start eating her asshole and preparing it for your big cock. She spreads her ass, letting your tongue deeper into her pink anus. You kiss and spank her big butt, diving your cheeks between as she shakes her ass. "You really like my big butt, professor," she tells you.

"Yes, I do. But I'm not gonna fuck it in a conventional way, show me you can be an elite anal acrobat," you tell her. "I'll do what you want me to do, professor," Kazuha answers you.

You put Kazuha's right leg up and insert your cock in her tiny pink asshole. "OH YEAH, HOLY SHIT," Kazuha screams as she tries to hold herself with both hands to the floor, her asshole getting slowly stretched out by your big cock. "OH YEAH, YOU FEEL SO GOOD IN MY ASS, PROFESSOR, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME," Kazuha moans.

You spank Kazuha's butt hard as you clap her cheeks louder and louder. "OH I LOVE THIS BIG COCK IN MY TINY LITTLE ASS," Kazuha screams. "FUCK, YOU STRETCH ME SO GODO, PROFESSOR, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM, AHHHHH," Kazuha screams, her asshole getting relentlessly drilled, her legs in a 180-degree position, her butt getting spanked nonstop. "YES, YES, YES, STRETCH THAT FUCKING ASS," she begs.

Kazuha's tight asshole gets destroyed, her having to cling to any support on the floor to cope with the hard drilling you give deep in her butt. "OH MY GOD, YES, FUCK ME," she begs as you put her right leg back on the ground, taking advantage of her weakness and pounding her with her face down and ass up. "Suck this cock, come taste your sweaty ballerina ass," you tell her as you finish the first session, fucking her face hard as Kazuha gags all over your asshole-flavored cock.

"You want more, you slutty ballerina?" you ask Kazuha. "Yes, please, professor," she answers. You promptly give what she wants, mounting on top of Kazuha as you go back to pounding her butt. "Face down, ass up," you tell her. "FUCKKKKK," she screams as your cock finds her anal entrance once again.

"SHITTT, IT'S SO BIG IN MY ASS, FUCKKK," Kazuhs screams as you stretch her asshole wide open, her struggling with the hard pounding you give her, opening a massive gape in her butthole as her face is completely on the floor, Kazua losing her breath as you cover her mouth while on top of her. "I still have a lot of work to do in that ass," you tell her amidst more and more screams from Kazuha.

Another round of Kazuha getting your cock wet with her saliva is enough for you as you quickly insert it back in her but. "Put that head down and throw that butt in that cock," you tell her, spanking Kazuha's ass one more time as she moves up and down your cock while staying on all fours. "Good girl," you tell her, before grabbing her butt and taking control of her hot muscular body. "FUCK, YOU'RE SO BIG, PROFESSOR," she says in between more and more spanking.

"FUCK MY ASS, FUCK MY ASS, PLEASE," she keeps begging, getting exactly what she wants you pick up the speed and attack Kazuha's asshole hard, her screaming and moaning against the floor. You can't resist the urge and put your feet on her head, showing Kazuha you own her as you stomp on her face while relentlessly fucking her ass.

"Whose instructions are you going to follow, you big butt slut?" you ask Kazuha. "ONLY YOURS, PROFESSOR, YOU OWN ME, I'M YOUR BIG BUTT SLUTTY BALLERINA," she moans.

"Then show me," you tell Kazuha, putting her upside down once again and spreading her legs at a 180-degree angle. Her once tiny asshole now looks massively gaped. as you insert your cock with ease. "Can you take it on a pile driver position with your legs wide open, Zuha?" you ask her. "Yes, professor," she answers.

"OH MY GOD, YESSS," Kazuha screams as the looks from the floor at your cock stretching her butthole. "FUCK ME, FUCK ME, YES FUCK ME," she begs as you show no mercy for her, pounding her ass balls deep while fingering her clit. "PROFESSOR, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME FUCKING CUM," she announces as you choke her and spank her beautiful porcelain face. Kazuha is getting number and number, her asshole getting more and more sore. "YES FUCK ME, FUCK ME HARDER" she begs, you getting more and more committed to making her unable to walk after this erotic ballet session.

"Let's do some more floor exercise," you tell Kazuha, dropping both your doeies to the floor as you dive to eat her pussy while the pushes her right leg up. After a little pussy-worshipping, you slide your cock back into her ass in a spooning position. "OH YEAH, OH, OH," Kazuha moans, increasingly losing her breath and struggling with her sore asshole.

You grab Kazuha's waist and pound her, groping her tits from behind while she tries to cope with the heat of your cock by fingering her pussy. "OHHHH, OHHHH, OHHHH, YESSS, YESS, YESSS," she moans. After a slow start, you quickly go back to clap her cheeks hard, making her close her eyes as your cock uses her asshole to the fullest. "HMMMM, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," Zuha moans loudly.

"YOU FUCK MY ASS SO HARD, DAMN," Kazuha screams as your anal drilling seems to have no time to end, moving your body in and out of her asshole and reaching now to finger her clit. "AHHHH, AHHHH, YES, TOUCH ME RIGHT THERE, MAKE ME CUM," Kazuha begs. "You like that, you slutty ballerina?" you ask her. "YES, YES, YES," Kazuha screams.

"HOLY SHIT, YOU'VE GOT SUCH A BIG DICK," Kazuha screams as you wrap your arms around her, never stopping to pound her gaped asshole. You kiss her and choke her as you hammer her ass faster than ever. "FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, AHHHHH," she continues to scream.

"Wanna do the splits on that cock one more time?" you ask Kazuha. "Yes, please," she answers. Without ever pulling out of her ass, you stay on the floor, pushing Kazuha's body on top of yours. "Sit that ass on my big fat cock," you command to her.

Kazuha promptly obliges. She starts slow, only taking the tip up her butt, before slowly adjusting to your massive length, doing a full split on your dick while you massage her butt. "That's what I want, all the way in," you tell her as Kazuha rides your cock with your hands all over her ass. "You look so hot with that big cock up your booty," you tell her. "Thanks, pro…FUCK," she answers before letting out another scream.

You spank Kazuha's butt harder than ever and at a faster pace than ever, taking advantage of her ass in prime position and just within reach of your large hands. "Bounce faster," you tell her. "OH YEAHHHH," she moans, trying to follow your instructions, her big ass making loud noises against your hips.

But you aren't completely satisfied. "If you don't bounce it harder I'm gonna pound that ass myself," you tell her, thrusting your cock up Kazuha's butt. "AHHHH, FUCK, YES, YES, YES," she moans as you drill her ass hard from down low. "AHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," Kazuha continues to scream, you showing no signs of slowing down, using all the strength in your body to pound her butthole.

Kazuha soon tries to respond, moving her hips faster against your cock. "Yes, baby, good girl, that's what I want," you tell her as Kazuha grinds fast on your cock, smiling as she moves her legs just enough to meet your thrusts. "PROFESSOR YOU FUCK ME SO GOOD, YOU MAKE ME SO WET."

You let Kazuha grind her ass a bit on your cock, before giving her the next command. "Keep those legs spread, I'm gonna push that sexy body right to the floor," you tell her.

"I want more, professor, I want your dick stretching my asshole hard and deep," Kazuha begs as you put your cock back in her butt in a prone bone position with her legs fully spread. "My pussy is so wet, I'm covering the floor with all my juices," she says. "Gape my asshole, I want you to stretch it hard, FUCKKKK," Kazuha keeps begging.

You enjoy the gape in Kazuha's butthole, fucking her very slowly, before finally topping her again, pushing your cock deeper in her ass. "RIGHT THERE, AHHHH," she screams, you picking up the speed. "I'M FUCKING CUMMING, AHHHH, SO GOOD" Kazuha screams as you go faster and faster up her butt, losing her breath so hard that her asshole starts winking to the rhythm of her panting.

"YOUR COCK IS SO FUCKING DEEP, I CAN FEEL IT INSIDE MY STOMACH," Kazuha screams as she gets drilled nonstop. "RIGHT THERE, RIGHT THERE, FUCKKK, DON'T STOP," she continues to beg. "I LOVE HOW YOU FUCK MY ASSHOLE NICE AND DEEP," she says.

"Shake your ass for me," you tell Kazuha, giving her a little time to breathe before you start hitting her butt once again. "Spank me, 'cause I'm a bad girl, I'm the sluttiest ballerina you've ever instructed, professor," she says, enjoying you turning her big ass cheeks red before going back inside her ass.

"OH MY GOD STRETCH MY ASSHOLE LIKE THAT, SO GOOD, SO FUCKING GOOD, AHHHHH" she moans, squirting all over the floor. "Bounce, bounce," you tell Kazuha as she squeezes your cock between her ass cheeks, moving them sideways while you destroy her asshole. "FUCK YOU'RE COCK IS WRECKING MY ASSHOLE SO HARD, THAT'S SO GOOD, MAKE ME CUM AHHHHH," Kazuha screams as more of her juices coat the floor.

"Let's end this right where we started it," you say to Kazuha once you finish it, pushing her back in the direction of the ballet barres. Just like the first time, Kazuha puts her right leg in the barre. You tease her a bit fingering her pussy, but this time you take her in the ass.

You pound Kazuha as she faces the mirror, taking your final turn in her asshole while you choke her hard. "AHHHHH, AHHHHHH, AHHHHH, OH YEAH," she screams, her ashole barely able to handle more thrusts after 40 minutes of fucking. You slide her legs between the barres, grabbing her waists and fucking her while she sits on the bottom barre. "OHHH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," she keeps moaning.

You take Kazuha off the barre and tie her arms behind her back. "Look in the mirror, you should be ashamed for being such a slut," you tell her. "YES PROFESSOR, BY I'M YOUR SLUT, I'M A BALLERINA WHO LOVES TO DANCE ON THAT BIG FAT COCK," Kazuha screams as you pound her asshole, before muffling her moans against the ballet barre by putting her mouth on it.

"I wanna hear you screaming, Zuha," you tell her, pushing her body in your direction and giving her a rough pounding on a standing doggy. "AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," Kazuha indeed screams, now you can see her naked body in full display in the mirror. Her beautiful doll face, her perky little tits, her insane abs, her pink pussy, and her insanely long legs, all that while you use her beautiful ass like a pillow to absorb your hard thrusts into her backdoor.

"You like that dick up inside that tight asshole?" you ask her one more time, you two fully visible in the mirror now. "YES, I LOVE IT, I WANT YOUR COCK FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE," Kazuha begs. "Who owns this slutty ballerina body?" you ask her. "YOU DO, PROFESSOR, YOU FUCKING OWN ME," she answers.

"I'm gonna cum all over your fucking slutty face," you tell Kazuha. "Give me your fucking cum, please, cum in my face," Kazuha begs. You soon pull out of her ass and start stroking your cock, as Kazuha gets on her knees in anticipation of your load. And what she gets is even better than expected, as you hit her with two huge bullseye cumshots and a pair of smaller loads, covering her face with your sperm over 10 times, her licking your cock and thanking you for the erotic ballet training session.

But just as Kazuha is slapping the still throbbing tip of your cock on her tongue, the door of the practice room opens.

"Zuha we're back… OH MY GOD," Chaewon says, dropping her shopping bags to the floor as she sees Kazuha on her knees sucking your cock with her face completely drenched with cum.

"Looks like they had a lot of fun while we were away," Yunjin says. Chaewon moves in your direction, touching your cock and grabbing a little bit of your cum with her fingers, before putting it in her mouth "Delicious, I can see Zuha must have had a lot of fun," she says, noticing the big gape in her groupmate's asshole.

"How about we have some fun too?" Yunjin asks.

"Sure, bring the plugs on," Chaewon says. Kazuha can only watch, her ass still sore from so much pounding, but always shocked at how her unnies can instantly flip a switch and go full slutty in a second.

Chaewon and Yunjin get close to the ballet barres and pull their pants down, showing her beautiful big bare asses right in your face. Yunjin grabs a pair of buttplugs, inserting one in each of their assholes, before Chaewon asks you a question.

"Can you teach some ballet for us too?"

#kazuha smut #le sserafim smut #kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader smut

1K notes · View notes

chrollohearttags · 5 months ago

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free use with roommate!eren

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📝: black!fem reader, free use, noncon, dub-con, fourth wall break (you’ll see lmao), sonmophilia, squirting, heavy breeding +pregnancy mentions, degradation, calls reader bitch and slut, mentions of anal, slight aftercare

wc: 1.9K

if y’all want me to continue this, lmk. It may become a series.

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roommate!eren truly was, by all definitions, your best friend. practically attached at the hip and always hanging out..the two of you first crossed paths when he placed an ad online, looking for someone to split the rent with and upon meeting you, the choice was easy. roommate!eren, who worked in IT and mostly remote, spent most of his time in the space you two shared so it was always spotless when you got home. You’d often find him standing over the stove, making something delicious so that you never had to worry about going to some shitty fast food place…honestly feeling more like a boyfriend with how spoiled he had you. “How was your day, gorgeous? Here, come talk to me, I want to hear all about it.” even allowing you to rest your sore feet on his lap as he massaged them. it never really dawned on you at first but as time went on, roommate!eren slowly became much more than that. It began with sweet gestures such as cooking for you or doing your laundry, even going as far as telling you not to worry about your share of the rent for a couple months because he wanted you to ‘do something nice for yourself’. “Eren, that is not what we agreed upon. I cannot let you pay the rent by yourself, that’s not fair at all.” “I already told you, it’s fine. Consider it an early birthday gift or something.”

but roommate!eren was reaping his rewards in more ways than one…one night as you lie sleeping on the couch, flat on your stomach and exhausted from a long day, you’d be awoken to the tender touch of warm hands caressing the backs of your thighs. Eventually, you’d feel those fingertips creeping up to the center where your panties were peeking out from underneath your work skirt. You’d feel a gentle rub before hearing the sound of sucking teeth and a moan accompanying it. “You’re so wet, baby..fuck. And all for me..” you were halfway conscious but you were aware of what was going on..yet, all you could do is lie there and allow those digits to massage your aching slit. Shutting your eyes, you’d feel the cool air hit your warmth when he peeled them back and shoved one inside..working you over whilst you slept.

“So fucking tight, princess..but I know you can take all of this dick. You’re going to make me fit..” the words barely above a whisper but you heard every last one. Every rambling coming from that familiar voice behind you only grew more lewd as those fingertips went deeper and sped up. Talking about how he wanted to fill you with his cum and watch it drip out as you lie there..how full and cute you’d look if you were pregnant. From how he wished to see you awake just so he could fuck you back unconscious. The sounds of your dripping hole being played with was about to drive him insane and eventually…neither of you could take it!

“I need to fuck you..need to feel this wet lil’ pussy on me so bad, baby.” Almost desperate in a way. Seconds later, (y/n) felt the aching head of a cock throbbing against your entrance; running up and down your clit before very carefully slipping in. “Oh shiiit..you feel even better than I expected, baby. Why’d you keep it from me for so long?” That deep yet whiny voice and thick cock belonged to none other than roommate!eren! Who had mounted you right there in the living room, fucking you prome into the couch. With a hand planted in the center of your back, he’d continue feeding you deep strokes, alternating between fast and slow, hard and gentle..all the while watching the recoil of your backside against his pelvis.

“Look at this fat ass..bouncing on my fucking dick. Oh God, it’s so perfect. I can’t wait to use it too..maybe I’ll slip a plug in you next time.” Those words elicited a much deserved twitch around his shaft and no longer could you pretend. “You really got tight when I said that shit. I knew you were a freak but damn, baby..” chuckling to himself. You’d slowly raise your head with a slight yawn and moan..before turning around and faintly glaring at him. “Erennn..what the fuck—“ “Hey gorgeous, about time you stopped pretending. Enjoy your nap?”

because deep down, roommate!eren knew the truth about you..and all of the dirty, filthy and dark secrets you were keeping. Including the twitter page and blog where you anonymously posted all about him and the depraved things you wanted him to do. Saying things like ‘my roommate is so fucking fine. Just want this man to use me.’ ‘He cooked for me again today, rubbed my feet and ran my bath before I got home..I’m ready to have this man’s baby.’ ‘Saw him coming back up from the gym this morning before I left and had to get myself off when I got to work’ ‘I rub my pussy every night thinking about him. Wishing he’d come in here and pound me.’ Even calling him daddy. It was entirely different from the bashful, nerdy office worker that he knew!

but it was one..or several that stood out to him the most. A series that inspired this whole little exchange..the ones where you were begging for him to use you anytime he wanted! You didn’t care if you were asleep, awake, tired or alert..you wanted him to have full possession of your body. ‘forced to work, born to be his little free use toy that gets dumped with cum whenever he feels like it and twice on his bad days :(’ ‘I just want to lie on the couch one night, pretending to be sleep as he fucks me..’ ‘I love watching him work at his desk. He’s so cute with his glasses on and his hair tied back. I want to sit on his lap and let his dick stay inside of me the entire time.’ ‘he’s worked so hard today, he deserves my throat as a reward.’ There was so much evidence and roommate!eren heard your virtual cries loud and clear.

“Aww, baby. It’s okay. If this was what you wanted, all you had to do was ask. You know I’ll give you the world.” Flashing a toothy grin as he pinned your arms behind your back..beads of sweat and strands of hair plastered to his forehead as he continued pounding you into the cushions. “All this time and you’re still so shy around me…but damn, do I love my job. You can find out all sorts of things. Like that my beautiful roommate wants me to use her like a little slut..” leaning down to utter the last sentence in your ear before feeding a sharp slap to the ass. Alluding to the fact he could easily access your socials and anything else he wanted with his extensive skill set.

unbeknownst to you, he felt the same..often finding himself at his desk, stroking his cock to the thought of you; how hot you looked in all your tight office attire, how pretty you looked wrapping your hair up in that bonnet at night with a bare face and how the sunlight hit your skin on a summer day, and the sway of your ass in that dress that clings to your curvy frame just right…finding himself choking his shaft between the clutches of his knuckles as he imagined it was that warm cunt squeezing him. Even going as far as to place a pair of your panties around himself and jerk until he exploded onto the seat of them. But it was a fairy tale no more..he was making all of yours..and his sick fantasies come true!

“That’s right, bitch. Moan for me..let me know how good I’m fucking you. C’mon..louder.” Reaching around to grasp your throat, he’d tug your head up so that he could make eye contact as he drilled your insides.

“Ughh! Fuuuck—please, use me. Make me come.” Those pleas sound awfully desperate and pathetic. Even so, roommate!eren craved more. He wanted to tap into the most depraved parts of you and bring them to the surface. “That’s more like it. No more of that innocent shit with me. From now on, you’re my slut to use..just my hole. I don’t give a fuck if you’re sleeping, too tired..I’m gonna nut in this pussy.. whenever I feel like it because you begged for it.” Continuously rambling on as those smacking sounds and guttural moans of his grew louder. “Y-yes daddy. All yours..your fucking whore.” At one point, he was almost animalistic..a sign that he was extremely close. You lacked the restraint for that however. Gripping the cushions in front of you whilst streams of your juices leaked underneath you. “That’s it. Squirt on that dick, bitch. How'd you know that’s my favorite?” Tears pooling down your face when you felt him slip a thumb into your puckering asshole. Just to make matters worse, that same hand gripping your throat would soon fish hook into your jaw and pull it open.

“Look at you..all mine. Got me playing in all your pretty holes. Tell you what..since you’ve been such a good girl, I’ll let you choose where you get my cum. Sounds good?” And it was a no brainer if you’d ever heard one. You couldn’t get it out fast enough that you wanted him to fill your pussy to the brim. “Aw, you really do want my babies..sure thing, princess—“ in one final move, roommate!eren pinned you to the sofa; a clump of your newly done hair in his hand as that orgasm ripped through his body..surging out in the form of hot, cream colored ropes of seed spilling into your womb. You were both left a shaking, disgusting mess. Wet and drenched in each other’s bodily fluids. He couldn’t help but to reward you for a job well done with a sloppy kiss so he’d shove that tongue deep between your jaws and moan as your lips locked. Reveling in the fucked out glow on your face.

“There’s my baby..hey, are you alright? How are you feeling?” Swiping your tears of pure bliss away with his thumb. “I’m..the happiest I’ve ever been.” And that was a given. Once the two of you came down from those climatic highs, he’d withdraw..dragging a trail of his cum along with him as he watched it pulsate out.

“I’m glad to hear that. Why don’t we get cleaned up and order some food. We have a lot to talk about, don’t you think?” Referring to the fact that this new agreement was going to require much consent and guidelines. Either way, both of you were excited for this new dynamic and looked forward to this relationship. You’d spent years fantasizing about all of these things. Documenting them on an anonymous page, too afraid that the real you would run a man away. But roommate!eren was the one you’d been searching for and he wasn’t going to let you down!

@hoohoohope @dancingwithdeities @violetxxvenom @nova2kss @friendlyneighborsslvt @acidrotzikr @shamelesshoefairy @soleilsfilm @vmpireslut @cc1306

3K notes · View notes

no-144444 · 11 months ago

Text

the disgraced pop princess

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summary: oscar is your salvation after things go horribly wrong

pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x singer! reader

warnings: TALK OF SA and cyberbullying

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comments

user13: WHAT THE FUCK

user15: This is all her fault. She's a bad person

-> user16: Where did you get that from? An anonymous twitter account?

user14: I AM A CHILD OF DIVORCE

Alexy/l/n: ❤️❤️❤️

CharlesOBrien: the end.

DarrelBowser: fin.

user82: WTF.

user45: how could she ruin this? doesn't she care about the fans?

-> user38: you have no idea what happened? stfu

oscarpiastri: GUYS I'M FREAKING OUT RN WTF.

-> user55: WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

-> logansargeant: he's been a WINGS fan since he was a teenager. He's been in love with Y/n Y/l/n name since he was like 15.

-> landonorris: Can confirm he's having a breakdown rn.

-> alexalbon: It's all too much for little oscar piastri

->zbrown: Zandvoort is fucked isn't it? @/landonorris @/oscarpiastri

-> landonorris: Sadly, yes.

-> oscarpiastri: VERY MUCH SO, YES.

user90: oscar piastri being a WINGS fan was not on my 2024 bingo card tbh.

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

BREAKING NEWS! POPULAR MUSIC GROUP ‘WINGS’ HAVE ANNOUNCED THE END OF THEIR WORLD TOUR, AND THEIR BAND!

Speculation has been flying for weeks due to various sources giving people an inside look into popular music group ‘Wings’. Many fans have been left wondering in recent weeks as the band has been seen arguing on stage, not speaking to each other off-stage, and even some of them have been refusing to go on and perform. Many people have been trying to point fingers to who’s at fault for the end of this historic music group, and various pieces of evidence against the front woman Y/n Y/l/n, the singer, songwriter, and lead bass guitarist of the group. Many pieces against her have been posted to the popular anonymous twitter account ‘@/anonymousmail’, detailing how she has been treating the rest of the band badly, by not letting them write their own music, becoming too controlling over the band, and even going as far as to threaten other members of the band.

Late last night after their last of 5 shows in Las Vegas at the historical Westgate Las Vegas Resort & Casino, where rock and roll legend, Elvis Presley played for years, the front woman Y/n Y/l/n posted a photo of her hugging her brother (and fellow band member), Alex Y/l/n with the caption ‘the end of it all. 12 year old me is crying. so is 22 year old me. bye for now and ever.’. On stage, they announced they were parting ways and were all in tears as they left.

This looks like the end for the group, and this publication is sad to see them go. We wish them all good luck, and we will keep our readers posted on any drama from the unravelling group.

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

BREAKING NEWS! ‘WINGS’ LEAD GUITARIST SPEAKS OUT AGAINST Y/N Y/L/N!

In a new-deleted instagram story, the lead guitarist of the band called out Y/n Y/l/n with this statement

‘Good f*****g riddance to that b***h . F******g fame-hungry c**t who could never sing for s**t. Good f**k tho’

This left fans shocked, as Y/l/n has said in the past that they were ‘all friends and would always respect each other, even if the band broke up’ (2021 interview with Vogue). Many people have shipped the two online due to their flirty stage-presence and good banter in interviews, but they always vehemently denied the claims that they were together. In other shocking news, it seems the rest of the band Charles O’Brien (lead guitarist), Alex Y/l/n (new lead singer, ‘Wings’ second guitarist), Darrel Brown (drummer), and Axel Smith (new bass guitarist) will be continuing on with ‘Wings’ as this was posted to the band social media account just days after their announced split.

Y/n Y/l/n has refused to comment and all her social media accounts have gone dark. We’ll keep you updated!

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comments

user12: ZAK BROWN IS WILDIN

user59: HE GETS US, BRING BACK THE REAL WINGS

landonorris: bro plz don't jump wtf

alexalbon: we're here for you buddy :)

logansargeant: he's crying in my driver's room rn. he's unconsolable.

-> user90: bro is DOWN BAD.

mclaren: Please don't crash the car Oscar. We'll bribe you.

-> user47: this is insane.

User58: hey so you're crazy.

georgerussel: We're here for you mate :(

lewishamilton: Missing WINGS rn.

user83: i feel bad that oscar just found out his celebrity crush is a bad person :(

-> user33: phone down. NOW. it's an anonymous twitter account with no credibility.

user55: what Charles said about her was mental.

-> oscarpiastri: AGREED. I ALWAYS HATED HIM.

-> landonorris: PUBLIC ACCOUNT.

-> WINGSfanno1: ur right, my b. AGREED. I ALWAYS HATED HIM.

-> user88: no way oscar piastri has a WINGS fan account 🤣🤣🤣

hater66: I hate Y/n, oscar should too.

hater36: she's a slut and an awful person.

hater22: Y/N Y/L/N HATE CLUB!

->hater82: me too!

->hater100: me too!

->hater3792: me too!

->hater38: me too!

->hater202: me too!

->hater26: me too!

->hater77: me too!

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BREAKING NEWS! Y/N Y/L/N IS SET TO BE ATTENDING THE DUTCH GRAN PRIX THIS WEEKEND!

According to anonymous sources, Y/n Y/l/n will be attending the Dutch Gran Prix this weekend. This comes as a shock since she's deactivated her instagram, most likely due to the break-up of her band. The rest of WINGS will also be in attendance, all as guest of McLaren, whereas Y/n is a guest of Sir. Lewis Hamilton, in the Mercedes garage. They have been seen in public recently and have been sparking dating rumours, despite their age difference. Many fans are now speculating that another reason the band broke up is the supposed cheating rumours. Y/l/n was apparently dating lead guitarist Charles O'Brien, but cheated on him with 7 time World Champion, Lewis Hamilton. Their paparazzi photos certainly seem to paint a picture...

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

You woke up puffy-eyed and angry. 3 days ago, you were on tour living your life to the fullest, singing and touring with your best friends, and your chosen family. At least, that's what you thought they were. It turns out they'd all been trying to get you out of the band that you started, for a couple of months now. They'd been lying to the press about you, making every little thing you did seem worse than it was, and your 'best friend' Charles O'Brien decided it was time to get you drunk enough to sleep with him.

You felt used. Every time you four went in for a record session, a new contract, a new show, you were told that you were the only reason the band was famous. You were the real talent.You were the moneymaker. You always brushed it off, telling them that you were so good, because the band was so good. You didn't give a fuck about people telling you to get out before they swindled you and felt you in the dirt. Now you wished you had listened. Now you wished you hadn't seen so blind to their blatant disregard for you. Now you wished you'd broken off from them years ago, even your brother.

Charles had been the backbone of getting you out, that you knew. He'd always hated how you got credit for making the band popular, when it really was you who made the band popular. It had been your idea to start a youtube channel at 12 years old, it had been your idea to enter your schools battle of the bands at 13 years old, and it was you who took the risk and trusted a manager for the first time, even going as far as being the only one to sign the contract, so they could always get out of it. You'd always been so considerate, so protective, so blind.

Today was the Dutch Gran Prix, and Lewis had decided it would be best for you to get out of the hotel room you'd been rotting in and come visit him for the race. You'd been to Gran Prix's before, but mostly when you were younger and not in the middle of a world tour, like you had been for the past year and a half. You left your room looking better than you had in days, you'd done your makeup, worn your favourite outfit, and you'd finally stopped crying. Small victories, right? You hadn't checked social media in days, you knew what you'd find, and you didn't want to know what everyone thought of you. You just wanted it all to stop.

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

liked by nicolepiastri, charlesobrien and 772,922 more.

comments

alexalbon: Ok this is becoming pathetic now

-> logansargeant: YOU ONLY THINK IT'S PATHETIC NOW?

georgerussel: Poor kid :(

maxverstappen: 🤣🤣🤣🤣

danielriccardo: I'll swing by with some food. We can cry together brother

-> oscarpiastri: the only real one on the grid 💔💔💔 love you daniel

-> logansargeant: mate I held you when you cried last night.

-> oscarpiastri: and you're still complaining about it. Daniel doesn't complain.

nicolepiastri: Kids these days...

hattiepiastri: please take his phone away from him @/logansargeant, I can't handle anymore embarrassment.

-> logansargeant: I'm trying, I promise.

user67: can we talk about zak brown, wtf?

-> zbrown: he's too sexy to die (and crash my car)??? what don't u get????

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

As you walked into the paddock beside Lewis, you felt the cameras on you. He was trying to shield you, but it wasn't exactly working.

"Y/n, how do you feel about what Charles said about you?!" "Y/n, are you and Lewis together? Did you cheat on Charles?"

What? How could you cheat on Charles when you weren't even dating him? That made no fucking sense. He'd assaulted you. You were going through the motions of suing him. How could anyone think you'd willingly have sex with the boy you'd seen as a brother for the past 22 years of your life?

"Follow me," Lewis whispered, leading you further away from the McLaren garage. "Don't worry about them, they're not going to talk to you."

You nodded, trying to put on a brave face as he led you to the Mercedes garage. You were used to the paddock, Lewis had known you since you were a young teenager embarking on your first tour with a new record deal, he'd shown you around as you stood nervous, just trying to do everything right, make yourself and the band look good. He gave you an important piece of advice that day.

"You don't need to worry about the cameras or the press, be yourself and the rest will come naturally."

A piece of advice you'd followed through your teenage years, and now into your 20's. You were scared again, but this time, you were alone. No band behind you, your brother wasn't there to protect you, and everyone hated you, for no good reason.

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

As you sat down in the paddock, Toto gave you a look of pity.

"How's my favourite popstar?" He smirked, trying to cheer you up.

"Disgraced," you groaned, and leaned your head against his shoulder. Mercedes had been like a second family to you, you'd met everyone back when you were 14, just about to start a tour after a song you posted online went viral. Your first stop was Silverstone, playing for so many people made you want to run and hide instead of play, but Lewis and Toto had helped you out, calmed you down, and you'd smashed it. It skyrocketed your fame, and got you an extended record deal.

He sighed. "Not for long. Don't let the boys win, it's always a boy's world."

You chuckled. "Thanks Toto."

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

Oscar jogged out of the McLaren garage as WINGS walked in. Logan had promised to let him stay at Williams if the band were too much for him, and he'd just had to listen to Charles O'Brien talk to his race engineer about how it was to fuck you. He felt sick to his stomach, and he didn't have anything else to do ahead of today, so off he went.

"Oscar!" Lewis's voice rung out and Oscar stopped in his tracks, turning to see where it was coming from. "Come here!"

Oscar walked over, confused by the sentiment. Lewis and Oscar didn't often speak before races. He walked over all the same, and there you were. Standing beside him looking gorgeous and flawless, and he knew he was fucked.

"Hi, I'm Y/n," you held out your hand to be shaken, and he did so with vigour, almost squeezing too hard.

"I'm Oscar," he smiled, then dropped your hand.

"See, I am a miracle worker," Logan's voice appeared out of nowhere, and Oscar whipped his head around to see him smirking. "I'm Logan," he introduced himself to you with a handshake which you reciprocated. "Oscar is basically in love with you and your music-"

"Mate!" Oscar tried to cover his mouth, but Logan was already in a laughing fit, as Lewis laughed with him. "I am so sorry about him, he's-"

"It's alright," you smiled. "It's honestly just nice to know that not every WINGS fan hates me now."

He frowned. "I'm really sorry about the break, it must've been awful."

You shrugged. "It was what was best for the band."

"I seriously doubt that. You were like, more than half the reason anyone ever listened," he chuckled. "You're amazing."

You felt yourself heat up. "Thank you. I think you're a pretty amazing driver."

"You watch F1?" He asked.

"Oh yeah, Lewis would kill me if I didn't," you chuckled. "It's also just really interesting, and congratulations on being like, the best rookie of all time."

He blushed and smiled. "Thank you."

You heard a camera snap and the small moment you two were having was ruined. Lewis and Logan had left you two to chat, and obviously now it looked... strange to say the least.

"God, I'd better go, sorry. You probably don't want to be seen with me-"

"I'd rather formulate my own opinion on you, rather than listen to what everyone else is saying. Do you want to go for a walk?"

You smiled, a real, genuine smile. "Yeah, that'd be lovely."

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

"So... how are you?" he asked as you walked through the crowds of people.

"I'm alright," you answered hesitantly. "Charles isn't making anything easy."

Oscar sighed. "He's definitely not an easy person to be around."

"You met him?"

"For about 5 minutes before I had to leave so I wouldn't punch him," he chuckled.

You laughed. "He's good at first impressions."

"Evidently," Oscar smirked.

"Yeah it just sucks that he aired all that shit out y'know? It's just... so unfair, especially when the court case is still being pieced together by our lawyers-"

"Wait, what? What do you mean 'court case'?"

"I'm suing him, he assaulted me," you shrugged.

"Holy shit, I'm so sorry," he stopped and took your hand. "I'm so sorry that happened to you."

You stopped for a moment. In the last 72 hours, no one had apologised, no one had checked in, and no one had been so heartbroken for you. Did he have to be perfect?

"T-thank you," you sniffled. "I'd better go, it was nice to meet you, b-bye Oscar."

Oscar was left standing outside Ferrari as you walked off to the Mercedes garage. He felt awful, no one should have that happen to them, and you were so sweet and kind, he almost couldn't believe someone would take advantage of that. He knew one thing though, he needed to see you again.

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

comments

hater56: why is lewis still hanging out with her....

hater52: LEWIS RUN

hater79: lewis get away from the slut plz

oscarpiastri: ❤️❤️❤️❤️

-> lewishamilton: out of my comment section now.

-> y/nyl/n: stfu lewis

hater67: how is she still famous?

alexalbon: PLZ LET HER SWING BY WILLIAMS

-> logansargeant: I SECOND THIS ^^^^^

-> y/ny/l/n: omw rn

-> oscarpiastri: same. (just a conincidence)

-> logansargeant: 🧐🧐🧐

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

comments

hater77: she's so annoying, why does he like her?

-> oscarpiastri: girl. have you seen or meet her? THAT'S WHY

user66: This is insane.

alexalbon: nurse he's out again! -> logansargeant: he's scoping out Williams to find her. come back soon plzzzz

lewishamilton: it was embarrassing...

georgerussell: good luck with keeping away from you @/y/ny/l/n !

-> y/ny/l/n: 👍👍👍👍

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

Oscar walked into Williams with one objective, to see you. He needed to talk to you again. As he was searching, he finally bumped into you.

"You found me," you smiled.

"I did," he smiled. "And I was wondering if you'd want to talk more."

"Well, right now I have to get to Mercedes," you explained and he deflated slightly. "But I can give you my number and we can get dinner sometime?"

He was elated.

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

Months of texting and dating, healing with Oscar, getting into the studio, and finally, your next single was ready. It was called 'Labyrinth', and it was about how Oscar had turned everything around for you. He was perfect. Kind, a gentleman, funny, sweet, everything. You loved him. He loved you.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula one #mclaren #oscar piastri x fem!reader #f1 fluff

1K notes · View notes

coqhee · 1 month ago

Text

﹙✧﹚ 𝗆𝗒 hometown 𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎

𝖣𝖱𝖤𝖠𝖬𝖤𝖱──── 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝖺 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎

엔하이픈 x f!r fluff ── petnames est rl (for some) kissing skinship not proof read ⨯ 2162 ∘ ∘ ∘ reblog && comment 📂

em's note ★ i still think about this dicon pc everyday I want it sososososoo bad. based of this rec I received a while back >< how is everyone doing!?

─── ♡

lee heeseung

when you asked heeseung if you could come along to his ‘boys day’ with his friends, he didn’t even hesitate to say yes.

“hee can we maybe stop by s’phora quickly, if it’s not a hassle,” you asked, looking out behind you as heeseung pulled out of the parking lot. honestly, you felt bad for asking to go to so many places and more so bad having jake and jay being dragged along in the backseat of the car.

“you don’t even have to ask, princess” heeseung said, glancing at you with a small smile before turning his attention back to the road.

more under the cut ><

“speak for yourself,” jay groaned, leaning his head back against the seat.

“heeseung you know we’re going to be sitting in the sephora parking lot for like, an hour then right?” jake teased adding on to jay’s comment.

you rolled your eyes, already expecting this kind of reaction from jay. “i’ll be quick, i swear,” you said, though you knew deep down that was probably a lie.

heeseung let out a soft chuckle, reaching over to rest his hand on your thigh reassuringly. “take your time, baby, don’t worry about them.”

“ugh, you guys make me sick,” jay’s voice rang from behind the two of you, making you both laugh.

“yeah, yeah,” heeseung called back, completely unbothered, turning back to you and pressing a kiss to the top of your head lovingly.

─── ♡

park jongseong

you searched through your bag to find your card, but before you could pull it out, jay put his hand on yours, stopping you, instead pulling out his own card to hand to the waiter.

“put her split part of the bill on my card,” he said, flashing you a knowing smile, his fingers brushing yours in a way that sent a tiny shiver up your spine.

“are you gonna pay for the rest of us now?” sunghoon asked looking at the rest of the table then back at jay

you blinked in surprise, looking between jay and his card. “jay, you don’t have to—”

“don’t even start,” he cut you off smoothly, flashing you a teasing smirk before turning back to the waiter. “just hers.”

“you’re acting like you’re my boyfriend,” you huffed, crossing your arms, despite the rosy pink cheeks.

jay snorted, tilting his head at you with a lazy grin. “and what about it? someone’s gotta take care of you, princess. plus i don’t know if you even have enough money in your bank account.” his thumb lightly grazed the back of your hand before he pulled away, leaving a ghost of warmth behind.

“jay, it’s just splitting $15 for a dinner bill. i’m not that broke,” you retaliated despite the bill already paying the bill.

“i’m serious,” jay said, his voice a little softer now. “just let me do something nice for you, yeah?”

you sighed, feeling the tension ease from your shoulders. jay had always looked out for you in his own way—teasing, bickering, and acting like a pain, but always there when it mattered.

“fine,” you relented, nudging his foot under the table. “but next time, i’m paying for you.”

jay grinned. “we’ll see about that.”

sunghoon, who had been watching the whole exchange, shook his head. “so what i’m hearing is, if we all keep acting cute, jay will pay for our food too?”

jay shot him a glare. “don’t push your luck.”

─── ♡

sim jaeyun

"hi angel," jake called out, his voice softer than usual, like the words were meant just for you.

you looked up from your spot on the grass, blinking at him as he approached, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. his usual sharp, confident stride slowed as he neared, a telltale sign that you had his full attention.

"hi, jake," you greeted, stretching your legs out in front of you. "you're late."

"yeah, yeah," he muttered, plopping down beside you without hesitation. "i had practice. coach wouldn’t let us leave on time."

"so you ran here," you pointed out, catching the way his breathing was still slightly uneven.

he shrugged, looking away like it wasn’t a big deal. "it's whatever."

except it wasn’t. you knew jake well enough to know that he never rushed anywhere—except when it came to you.

"you didn’t have to rush," you murmured, nudging his knee with yours.

"i wanted to angel. just for you," his response was simple, quiet, but it made warmth bloom in your chest.

you grinned, reaching into the little bag beside you. "well, lucky for you, i saved you some snacks."

his eyes softened instantly, and any lingering frustration from practice disappeared as he took the food from your hands. "only you would think of that," he said, shaking his head fondly.

"of course," you said, leaning against his shoulder like it was second nature. "what else am i gonna do while waiting for my favorite person?"

he didn’t reply, but you felt the way his shoulder relaxed under you, the tension in his body melting away. jake was guarded with most people, always keeping up a front. but with you, it was different. with you, he didn’t have to be anything but himself.

─── ♡

park sunghoon

if there’s one thing you hate the most in the world, it’s the fact that your body loves to get hungry in the middle of the night, even after a large dinner from earlier. tonight was another example of this burning hatred, you’d woken up right back at 3am feeling hungry all over again.

you blinked at the ceiling, debating whether you had the energy to get out of bed or if you could somehow fall back asleep and dream about food instead. but the quiet rumble in your stomach said otherwise.

you were just about to kick off the covers when you felt a warm hand brush against your waist.

“where are you going?” sunghoon mumbled, voice raspy and heavy with sleep.

you froze for a second, caught, before whispering, “i’m hungry.”

he didn’t respond right away. you figured he’d drift back to sleep. but then you heard the rustle of blankets and felt him sit up.

“what do you want?” he asked, already reaching for his hoodie tossed over the chair. “ramyeon? toast? those weird frozen dumplings you like?”

you sat up too, guilt creeping in. “hoon, you don’t have to—”

“shh,” he said, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “my girl’s hungry. that’s an emergency.”

you smiled, watching him shuffle around the kitchen with bed hair and mismatched socks, blinking under the harsh fridge light like he hadn’t just been sound asleep seconds ago. his tired eyes, with dark circles under them suddenly vanishing whenever he looked your way at the kitchen island.

he looked ridiculous. and perfect.

you padded over and hugged him from behind, resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.

“you’re soft,” you mumbled.

“only for you,” he said, dropping a dumpling into the pan with one hand and holding yours with the other. he gave you a tight squeeze, then let go, only to bring both hands to cup your face and pepper light kisses to the top of your head.

─── ♡

kim sunoo

it’s raining outside—the soft kind of rain that makes the windows fog up and everything smell like earth and quiet.

the two of you are curled up in bed with the comforter pulled high whilst 2 pairs of hands lay above a wooden bed tray splayed out. bottles on bottles of nail polish remain on the side. bottles of pastel blues, milky pinks, glittery silvers, whatever you had plus whatever sunoo thought would look cute to adorn you.

on the tv plays some stupid reality tv show the two of you are half invested in, giving occasional reactions to the people, and their rash choices in their love lives.

“okay, next hand,” he murmurs gently, like the two of you are in a bubble no one else can reach. your fingers are cold from the fan still spinning quietly above. he warms them first by huffing a slow stream of warm air, then cupping your hands between his as if they’re porcelain.

“this color’s cute,” he says, uncapping a light yellow shade and leaning forward with all the focus in the world. his brows knit together as he carefully paints each nail, tongue peeking out a little in concentration.

“when did you learn to do this?” you giggle at his knitted brows as he hyperfixates on fixing your index finger.

he beams with pride, “my sister taught me how,” his cheeks turning into balloons of a peachy pink, as he looks up at you.

“figured i’d need to know someday, just for you sunshine” he adds with a soft shrug, like it was the most natural thing in the world—to learn a delicate skill just in case someone like you might need it. you don’t say anything, but the warmth blooming in your chest says enough. sunoo, who bickered with his friends like a firecracker, who rarely let people touch his stuff, who rolled his eyes at the smallest inconveniences—was always, always soft with you.

while you leave your fingers under the mini uv light sunoo bought, the two of you move your focus back to the laptop screen. sunoo cards his fingers through your hair like it’s the only thing he was ever meant to do.

─── ♡

yang jungwon

god forbid a man want to spend time with his girlfriend. it’d been 6 days since the last time any of jungwon’s friends had last seen him. lo’ and behold he was at your place in the last 6 days, only leaving only once when you begged him to buy another box of microwave popcorn.

every time one of them texted asking where he was, he’d leave them on read—too busy curled up beside you on your couch, flipping through your shared playlist or trying to beat you in a game neither of you were particularly good at.

if they hadn’t known how incredibly attached by the hip he was to you, they would’ve automatically assumed you yourself was holding him hostage, but no. jungwon was staying put of his own choice.

“wonie you should really text your friends back and go catch lunch with them,” you urged him, whilst his arms clung put against your body, holding you as if you’d run away from your own apartment that now housed him.

he only groaned in response, face tucked into the crook of your neck, voice muffled. “don’t wanna,” he mumbled, fingers tracing random shapes against your side. “they’ll live. i see them all the time. i don’t get to see you all the time doll,”

“won we’re literally 30 minutes apart,” your voice trails off, and before you can reprimand him further for not responding to his friends, he reluctantly types texts something on his phone then swipes it off and sets it down.

“ill get lunch with them tomorrow,” he starts, “i guess,”

you roll your eyes at the exaggerated sigh he lets out, but you’re smiling, and he catches it—smirking a little as if he’s won something. “you’re so clingy,” you tease, poking his cheek gently.

jungwon only shrugs, tugging you closer like that was the plan all along. “yeah,” he says, matter-of-factly, not even pretending to deny it. “but only for you.”

─── ♡

nishimura riki

if there’s one thing riki treasures most in life, it’d be you. obviously. concerningly close second is his nintendo switch.

whenever riki has jake and sunghoon over, he cannot bear to leave them in the room alone with it, out of pure fear of them messing up his stats.

no matter if they’re playing fortnite or mariokart, or god forbid minecraft, riki HAS to be there to supervise them.

“bro i’m literally just customizing your kart,” jake would argue.

“exactly,” riki would snap, snatching the console back. “mine.”

and yet, for reasons no one can fully comprehend, you're the only person on earth allowed to touch it without supervision. even when he’s not home. even when you're playing animal crossing and accidentally dig up half his flowers. even when you log onto fortnite and tank his precious KD.

“rik,” you frown once, glancing up at him mid-game, “i think i might’ve… blown up the garden.”

he peers over your shoulder, squints at the pixelated chaos, then shrugs.

“you’re lucky you’re cute baby.”

“wow. so if i weren’t?”

“you’d be no different than jake and sunghoon.”

he honestly could not care. even when he’s around watching you play, he doesn’t dare say a word, because no game is worth a miniscule of frustration to you.

“it’s fine,” he shrugs when jake gasps in horror after finding out. “she can do whatever.”

if you’re happy? then the switch can burn.

─── ♡

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blueberrisdove-sideblog2 · 2 months ago

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pink dress. ◞❤︎ tws : fem!reader, fluff and slightly suggestive.

You honestly didn’t think your day would include watching the mighty Mydei—the same man who once shattered a boulder just because it was in his way—sitting daintily in your daughters’ plastic pink chair, holding a chipped porcelain teacup between two clawed fingers like it was a sacred relic. And yet… here you were. Curled up on the couch, trying not to fall off from laughter while your three little girls bossed around their towering father like he was the new girl in their kingdom of fluff and glitter.

He looked so out of place. Blonde hair messily swept to the side with a glittery bow clipped on top. Pink dress clinging awkwardly to his broad frame, the neckline tugged too low, the skirt flaring out awkwardly around his thighs. Ribbons, sequins, lace. Somehow, they’d even talked him into heart-shaped stickers on his cheeks. Every muscle in his body looked tense—like he was holding back the urge to combust. But he wasn't fighting it. He wasn't stomping away. He wasn’t tearing the dress off or shouting like usual.

He was trying. For them.

Your heart melted a little.

“Would Daddy like more tea?” asked your youngest, her voice soft and sweet as she lifted a tiny teapot that had absolutely nothing in it.

Mydei cleared his throat. “Yes. Very much, Princess Blossom.” His voice was stiff, painfully formal. He looked like he’d rather be impaled than call anyone Princess Blossom out loud.

Your middle daughter clapped. “Yay! Princess Daddy’s bein’ so good!”

He shot you a look. The kind that promised vengeance in the dead of night. You just grinned wider, hugging a pillow to your chest and kicking your feet behind it like you were watching a drama.

You could see it happening—his jaw twitching, his eye narrowing, the way his fingers flexed over the tea saucer like he was imagining crushing it just to reclaim a shred of dignity. But then… your oldest leaned over, reached up with both hands, and started braiding a tiny strand of his blonde hair with careful, clumsy fingers. And he froze. Went completely still. Let her tug and twist and hum her silly little made-up song while she worked.

It was quiet for a second.

And then she said, “Daddy… you look pretty.”

You watched his breath hitch.

“…Thank you,” he said after a pause, voice quiet and barely above a whisper.

Your heart split in two. You curled tighter around your pillow, nose burying in the fabric, trying to stop the tears from poking at your eyes. It was so sweet. So stupidly sweet that it hurt.

You thought that would be the softest moment of the day.

You were wrong.

Because later, when the kids were tucked into their princess beds, drooling into pillows and dreaming sparkly dreams, you turned around and found Mydei still in that damn dress. Arms crossed, standing at the doorway like some kind of vengeful fairy godmother.

“I forgot I was still wearing this,” he grumbled. But he made no move to take it off.

“You totally didn’t forget,” you teased, tilting your head. “You like it.”

He scoffed, stalking forward. “I like nothing about this ridiculous outfit—”

“But you let them braid your hair,” you said, backing up as he approached. “You even wore the bow. You didn’t growl or snap or destroy the tea set. You were such a gentle princess—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” you smiled, stopping once your back hit the wall. “You were so good today, Daddy.”

His eyes narrowed, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was holding back a smirk.

“Oh, so that’s what this is?” he murmured, leaning in slightly. “You’ve been poking at me all day just to get this reaction?”

You giggled, not denying it.

He tilted his head, fingers brushing yours. “Tch. You’re lucky I like you.”

You grinned. “I know I’m lucky.”

He let out a quiet sigh and bumped his forehead gently against yours, voice soft. “You’re gonna keep teasing me about this forever, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” you whispered, smiling up at him. “And deep down… you love it.”

Mydei groaned dramatically, but he didn’t pull away. He stayed close. Still in the dress. Still your grumpy, sparkly, begrudgingly perfect princess.

He didn’t pull away.

Still in that pink frilly disaster of a dress—lace brushing his thighs, one strap slipping off his shoulder—Mydei just stood there with his forehead pressed to yours, hands resting on your hips like he didn’t look like a cursed fairytale prince forced into a Barbie dream.

“You’re enjoying this,” he muttered again, more to himself than to you.

“Mhm,” you hummed innocently. “I mean… when else am I gonna see you in a glitter bow and puff sleeves?”

“I should exile you for this.”

“But you won’t,” you said, inching your arms up around his neck. “Because deep down, you like it when I get all giggly over you.”

“I don’t need you to giggle over me.”

“You love it when I do.”

He didn’t argue.

Instead, he leaned in just a little, arms tightening around your waist like he couldn’t decide whether to carry you off to bed or lock you in time-out for crimes against his pride. You felt the lace of the dress tickle your arms as he held you close, the faint scent of your daughters’ glitter gel clinging to him like some absurd perfume. And yet, standing here like this—wrapped in sparkles, pink, and everything he supposedly hated—he still felt so much like him. Steady. Warm. Strong. Unshakable.

The dress didn’t change that.

It just made him look like a particularly grumpy marshmallow.

“Stop smiling like that,” he warned.

“Like what?” you said, smiling even harder.

“Like you’re planning something.”

“Maybe I am.”

Mydei raised a brow. “Honey.”

Your smile turned devious. “I’m just wondering… how long you plan to stay in that dress.”

He blinked, taken off guard. “What?”

“Well,” you said, stepping back just enough to give him the full look-over, “you could take it off. Right now. But you haven’t. And you’ve had plenty of time.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re reading too much into this.”

“Mmm. Maybe. Or maybe you like the way it feels.” You wiggled your fingers teasingly. “It’s soft, right? All those ruffles and silk? Bet it’s a lot more comfy than your armor.”

He didn’t respond. He looked like he was trying to come up with a retort, but every second that passed with him still wearing that ridiculous outfit just made your smirk grow.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

“And you’re adorable,” you whispered, reaching up to fix the bow in his hair. “My perfect pink grump.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t stop you. In fact… he leaned in again, this time a bit closer, a bit slower. His hands settled a little lower on your waist. Not too low—he was still holding back—but low enough to make you shiver.

“You’re lucky the girls are asleep,” he said, voice softer now.

You tilted your head. “And if they weren’t?”

“I’d still do this.”

And then he kissed you.

Not hard, not heated—just full. The kind of kiss that lingered, like he was memorizing the way you tasted after a day full of giggles, tea parties, and glitter. The kind that said, You’re mine. Even when you humiliate me in pastel lace.

When he pulled back, your face was warm, your knees weak, and your smile absolutely shameless.

“You kissed me while wearing a dress,” you teased.

He groaned again, burying his face in your neck. “Don’t remind me.”

“But you did, and you liked it.”

He said nothing.

But he didn’t let go either.

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nxuvillette · 2 years ago

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“WANT ME TO FILL YOU UP?”

BREEDING W/ GENSHIN MEN

synopsis: nothing sounds better than being filled with your boyfriend’s cum.

❥- including : arataki itto, neuvillette, kamisato ayato, wriothesley

❥- note : i honestly kind of liked these !! i hope you all enjoy + reblogs are appreciated :)

content warnings: nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, breeding kink, creampies, mentions of pregnancy (neuvillette , itto , ayato), praising, use of pet names (baby , my love , princess) soft sex (ayato), cockwarming (itto), heavy mentions of cum

♡ ARATAKI ITTO

itto always loved the idea of possibly knocking you up or simply just filling your pretty cunt with all of his cum. it was the hottest thing he could ever imagine. it didn’t help that his cock was so thick that it would almost split you in half whenever the two of you became intimate with each other. he just couldn’t help himself. you were so tight and warm it’s like he was begging to fill you up.

he couldn’t hold back his grunts while he rutted into your cunt. you had been both at it for almost an hour now, and with itto’s stamina, he didn’t show any signs of tiredness. sex with him was always intense and fast. he knew what to do to make your body crumble and shake with so much desire.

you tugged on the white strands of hair that draped down his shoulders. you were so fucking close. itto could sense it, too. your walls were becoming increasingly tighter with every thrust and it was making it hard for him to resist you. you were so fucking pretty. you took his cock better than anybody else and seeing your cunt suck him in was the biggest turn on. “i-itto! ‘m close!” you cried, throwing your head back onto the pillow behind you.

he chuckled, spreading your legs apart even further to enter deeper into you. “heh, wanna cum, baby? fuck.. i wanna fill you up so bad..” he nibbled on the shell of your ear. “want to carry my babies..? you’d be so pretty with my cum dripping out of you..”

your ankles then locked around his torso, giving him those desperate eyes he loved so dearly. your pussy clamped around his cock, making him shudder a bit at the sensation. “y-yes! god, itto, yes! fill me with your cum!” you begged.

that was all he needed to hear. itto’s pace suddenly became almost animalistic as he fucked you through your orgasm. your cunt squelched and made some of the most lewd noises, which was like music to his ears. his balls slapped against your puffy clit, aching for that delicious release. it took several more thrusts, but he eventually reached his orgasm. thick, white cum filled your womb. itto swore to god you milked him dry with how much he came.

he stayed in that position for a moment, making sure that none of his seed leaked out of you. “wanna go again..? i wanna make sure you’re pregnant..” he smirked, nodding his head at you.

♡ NEUVILLETTE

he wasn’t sure what it was about fucking his cum into you that was so hot.

neuvillette had assumed it was probably a dominance thing. the thrill of also possibly getting you pregnant with his child made him harder than a rock. he knew if that day ever did come, you would look absolutely gorgeous with a rounded belly and swollen feet.

it had been a busy afternoon inside the palais mermonia. countless documents had been handed over to the chief justice himself, so his hands had been full the entire day. he was exhausted, to say the least, so when he saw your pretty face walking into his office he couldn’t help but smile. you were such a relief to his difficult day, and you decided to help him out with all of those stressors he had all day.

your body was sprawled out on the desk neuvillette did his work on. his papers had been pushed to the side so none of them were ruined by the activities you two were indulging in. his thick cock bullied your walls, making your vision hazy from how he pressed against your g-spot. you could tell your lover was in need of this. he was rough and he had this determination swimming in his eyes while he fucked you mercilessly.

“n-neuvillette! oh! right there!” you sobbed, clenching onto his broad shoulders.

you were such a fucking sight. neuvillette couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. he thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world at that very moment. “keep saying it, my love, keep calling for me..” he began to play with the sensitive bud between your legs. “want me to fill you up..? make you a mommy to my children..?”

the idea flowed into your head and although it was hot, it also left this swell in your chest. he wanted you to bear his children and be his forever. that’s all you ever wanted. “yes.. please, neuvillette..!” you whined.

he smiled before grabbing your legs and pressing them against the desk. the tired wood began to creak at the constant movement of your bodies, but neuvillette didn’t give a single concern. the angle was deep, so deep that you swore he was fucking your cervix with how fast his thrusts were. your cries echoed across the walls loud enough that surely someone outside heard, but no one would ever dare to interrupt the chief justice and his lover.

neuvillette’s hips stuttered one last time and his orgasm hit him like a wave. his cum spurted into your walls, blanketing them with white. there was so much that he swore some of it leaked onto the floor.

you could hardly move, but judging by neuvillette’s expression, he looked like he had another round left in him.

♡ KAMISATO AYATO

being in a relationship with ayato of all people meant that there were constantly many eyes set on you. you were with someone that had such a high status in inazuma. it was not much of a surprise when you would see people staring at you in public, or giving you respectful bows.

ayato fell in love with you for many reasons. he adored you so much that he wanted to take that next step and start a family with you. he wanted your love to be permanent in his life.

he had fantasized about it for quite a while. the image of you pregnant with his child and showing off your belly to everyone on inazuma. he wanted nothing more than that, so after a long day of taking on commissions for the clan, he decided to unwind with you in bed that evening. all he could think about all day was coming home to your sweet smiling face.

your legs were thrown over his shoulders. ayato’s fingers were laced with yours while he pumped his cock into your needy hole. you were so beautiful at that moment. your glossy lips that were parted open with sweet moans slipping through them, and those pretty eyes that kept crossing every moment he reached your g-spot. he truly was blessed to have such a gorgeous wife.

“you’re so beautiful, princess, look at you..” he whispered, lovingly. his free hand went to trace along your figure, drinking in the sight of your sweaty body. “you’d look even more beautiful with my baby in you.. yeah? a nice heir for me?”

you shuddered at the thought of that. you knew for a while that ayato wanted someone to take over the clan someday when he wouldn’t be able to hold the reigns anymore. it sounded so pleasant. his cum being inside you and knocking you up turned you on so much. “yes.. ayato! let’s have a b-baby!” you whined, nodding eagerly at his request.

he couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter at your words. he was going to make sure you had the best pregnancy ever. ayato then began to speed up his pace. your cunt was squeezing his cock so perfectly he was losing himself within you. how could you be so flawless?

he groaned loudly as he let go inside of you. a warmth spread across your tummy as his cum filled your womb. it felt so amazing. you honestly craved it more than you thought you would.

ayato smiled to himself. he knew he made the right choice that day when he first met you.

♡ WRIOTHESLEY

wriothesley was always open to trying new things with you, with your consent of course. some things were tried and failed, but the one thing that always remained was his breeding kink. he enjoyed seeing your pretty cunt leak with white cum after he was done with you.

you decided to make a surprise visit to the fortress of meropide. it wasn’t unusual for you to pop in and speak with your boyfriend for a little while when he had the time, but your visit lasted a little longer than you had anticipated.

you were sitting on wriothesley’s lap. his dick was drilling into you at such a rough pace you had to hold onto him to make sure you didn’t fall. his hands were both set on your waist where he bounced you on his thick cock. his icy blue eyes were watching your every facial expression. he loved seeing you like that. all fucked out and drooling over the fact that he was making you feel like you were on the moon.

he groped the globe of your ass tightly. you could hardly keep your moans contained from how great the pleasure was. “wriothesley! ah! i’m so close..!” your nails dug into his shoulder blades.

he started to nibble at your neck, leaving a few marks on your skin. “yeah..? fuck, me too, baby.” he pressed his forehead against yours, making eye contact with you. “want me to cum inside you..? fill you nice and good..?”

you whimpered at the mere thought of that. you honestly loved his breeding kink more than he did. “yes.. fuck, wrio, i need you..!” you grind your hips into him to show how desperate you were for him.

wriothesley then took your hips, holding them in place while he slammed upwards into you. the wind was practically knocked out of your lungs at how aggressive his thrusts became. he was hitting every delicious spot inside of you that made your mind become instantly foggy. your head fell onto his shoulder. you couldn’t help but moan into his ear about how badly you wanted him to knock you up. how he’d make such a great daddy to your baby.

without warning, wriothesley came. his cum leaked into your pussy, making a mess on his cock from the mix of your and his cum. he could care less, though.

“you’re gonna make a nice momma.. i just know it, princess.” he cooed, kissing your face.

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ official work !#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact smut #arataki itto x reader #itto x reader #itto smut #arataki itto smut #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillette x you #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #ayato smut #kamisato ayato smut #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut

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tarotbyjam24 · 5 months ago

Text

Pick a card : You and your future spouse's 1st valentine's day date

Likes , reblogs and feedbacks are very much appreciated 💗

Disclaimer: This is general reading . It may or may not resonate . If reading doesn't resonate let it fly and choose another pile or simply there were no messages for you through this reading 😊 Take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so🕊️

Masterlist\pick a cards

This reading a collab between @tarotbyjam24 and my girl @winisayswhat 🖤 don't forget to check her account loves

Thankyou for stopping by let's dive in ☄️,shall we ?

Choose the pile you feel most drawn to 🧸

Pile एक

Pile 1 : your first valentine's day date might possibly be a 50-50 date like you couples splitting your bills or it could be like you both are always so busy so it took effort from both sides to have a valentine's day date together finally. It's gonna be a very planned and calculated date . You guys might also not show your truest self to your spouse on this date because either of you or both can have your guards up even though you're married. I also feel on this date you could also fight with eachother 😭 probably because of hiding something. I see 'hide' word is so prominent here . I wonder how you guys are so mysterious to each other . Mostly I see you guys could be trying local street foods , trying drinks here n there. Although I feel you both will be dressed perfectly for a date to bring the date date vibe . Having drinks on this could help both of you to loosen up a bit and open up to each other . This date will be a start for something new probably you could think of starting family or something else . This pile seems like both of you love eachother but also don't show it and hide it very well that you both seem to each other like enemies ✨ that's all pile 1 I hope you liked reading this pile happy valentine's day and bless you all 🎀💗

Pile दो

Pile 2 : your first valentine's day date is gonna be amazing I swear . They'll make you feel like a prince\princess . Almost worshipping you and giving all the power . I also feel your spouse will be older than you . So ofc they gonna spoil you it's natural to them and you gonna enjoy it . They'll surely take you on various activities for this date like taking some fun classes in day , eating local foods , taking you on shopping, then dinner night at a perfect place probably by river or seaside . This date will grow more love between each other . I get the vibe of ' material girl ' from this pile and I support you for this lol . You go guys . You deserve it all . Now from another perspective if we see this than your spouse could be bit more domineering in this date like those ceo and their girlfriends where ceo likes to eat at three Michelin star hotel and you enjoy your ramen and drinks but you're forced to go on the three Michelin star hotel date lol. I feel you'll act like a disciplined kid when in real you're so spoiled 🍃 and you just don't listen to anyone but you'll have to listen and follow them .that's all pile 2 I hope you liked reading this pile happy valentine's day and bless you all 🎀💗

Pile तीन

Read by @winisayswhat

Okay, babes, this date is going to be mind-blowing . Like, expect some serious sparks flying, and that's just not from the table. The man or woman you're going on a date with has a provider energy. It's like a very fancy place, with a fancy setup. This person is jacked for sure. They're serious and will bring lots of stability and maturity into your life. They're the real deal, honey .The Two of Cups is all about harmony and balance. So, expect some beautiful, heartfelt connections. You'll feel fulfilled. This place feels like a rooftop restaurant with dim lights, and you're drop-dead gorgeous . You're dressed up, drop-dead gorgeous that day. Oh la la, that person is going gaga all over you! They're very chivalrous. They're going to spend all their money on you without thinking twice. You'll feel luxurious, wealthy with them This person is a provider, wild, and dressed to impress . Both of you are excited to meet each other and already know you're the "it" deal. It's like you both were meant to be together, like two puzzle pieces . You both love, value, and cherish each other. It's like you both have manifested each other. The God has led you both to each other .This person is very straightforward, and whatever they say is going to be very real. They'll be honest with you, and you'll love that about them . They're the type of person who'll have many surprises in store. If they take you out for dinner, they'll make sure there's music, a big bouquet of roses, jewelry as gifts, your favorite champagne, food, and good photos to be clicked . Oh la la, this person is also a great photographer! Your Instagram feed is sorted ! Every time this person walks into a room, people look at them and go, "Oh my God, who is that?" They drip with money and luxury 💸. This person is going to be so nurturing and caring. Expect some serious TLC from this person, honey! It's going to be wild, but guess what? This is just the beginning. The journey is much more exciting and spicy!

Pile चार

Read by @winisayswhat

This Valentine's Day date is going to be EVERYTHING and more! The energy is mutual, excited, and respectful. You both love and adore each other, and you're ready to spend quality time together.The ambiance is romantic, probably at a favorite restaurant or spot. The air is filled with a sweet scent, and you both feel harmonious and in tune with each other. You're thinking about how lucky you are to be in this relationship!Conversation on the date is all bout goals, future plans, and excitement for what's to come. You both are magnetic, high-achieving individuals who are planning out your adrenaline-fueled life together! Eye contact is intense, and you both feel a deep sense of connection and understanding.This is a couple who will be the life of the party, so in love and into each other that they won't even notice what's going on around them! You're best friends, despite being different, and you complement each other perfectly.Oh, and there's red velvet cake involved somehow! And maybe some red fruits or wine? Whatever it is, it's going to be a night to remember!You'll spend the evening planning your life together, discussing kids, cars, homes, and all the adventures you'll have. And guess what? The universe is going to make it all happen!Get ready for lots of kisses, gentle touches, and admiration from your partner. Their love language is touch, and they'll show you love and affection in the sweetest ways.This person is going to adore you, honey! They'll be captivated by your smile, lips, eyes, and entire aura. And they'll appreciate you for the rest of your life! You will be like one of those couples from the Hollywood 90's-2000's Romcom movie aesthetic for sureeee!!!

I hope you liked the reading . Thank you so much for letting me read for you . Wishing you best ahead . 🎀 Bless you and have a nice day 🫶🏻

Loads of love , jam

Exchanges : open , collabs for pacs : open

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freeabortionslol · 7 months ago

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broken heater (a lake house series fic) ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

pairings: quinn hughes x reader, slight jack hughes x reader summary: reader gets cold because of the broken heater and goes to quinn warnings!! cursing, cuddling (ofc) a/n: love love love love love and I can't stress this enough, LOVEEE the requests/opinions on this series wc: 1.5k anon: "her room is freezing cold during christmas and she knows out of everyone quinn runs the warmest (also just the own she wants to go to.) and she goes to his room and quinn offered to cuddle her and they cuddled together all night , best sleep for both of them"

Another night during the christmas trip at the lake house meant another night freezing cold in your room. No matter how many blankets you had on your bed, you were still shivering, trying to find even the smallest pocket of warmth. Luke came into your room not long before, complaining about the same thing. You graciously offered him two of your blankets, being the people pleaser you were, but now you were left with even less heat than you began the night with. You really tried to deal with it, squirming every so often to find a warm spot on the mattress, but it was nowhere to be found. Quietly, you stood up from the bed, in hopes that Jack would offer his. You opened your door slowly, stepping out and feeling the cold hardwood on your bare feet as you made your way down the hall. You stopped in front of Jack’s door, knocking on it twice before stepping back to wait on him. You heard the rustle of the blankets, the blankets that sounded so warm and cozy, as he made his way. When he opened the door, he was shirtless, looking frazzled- yet his eyes softened when he realized it was you.

“H-Hey,” He said quietly, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Everything okay?”

You licked your lips, rubbing your eyes from the exhaustion of the day. “My room is like 62 degrees, can I sleep in your bed?” You yawned, covering your mouth with the back of your hand as you waited for his response.

Jack let out a light chuckle, one more nervous than humored. “Uh- not tonight?”

You blinked in surprise, your eyes widening. “What? Why?”

Jack turned his gaze away, rubbing the back of his neck. “There's uh…” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. “There’s a girl in my bed.”

Your shoulders slumped, sending him a look of disappointment. “Jack,” You groaned quietly.

“I know, I know-”

“Is it the same girl from the other day?” You asked, whispering to not wake anyone in the house.

Jack clicked his tongue, his gaze centered on the floor. “It’s um…” He paused, looking up at you for a split second before glancing at his bed. “A different…girl.”

You furrowed your brows, your head tilting to the side slightly. You ran your tongue across your bottom row of teeth as you crossed your arms, sending Jack the same disappointment-filled glare. “Fine,” you whispered, turning your body slightly. “Do what you want, I'll just…go somewhere else.”

“Night, princess.” Jack said before shutting his door, leaving you out in the hallway by yourself. You stood there for a moment, the cold creeping back in as Jack’s door clicked shut. The hallway seemed quieter now, the faint sounds of the wind outside barely reaching your ears. You felt a strange mix of frustration and disappointment stirring inside you, but you weren’t sure if it was more about Jack’s casual dismissal or the fact that you were still freezing cold, alone in the dark. As you turned to head back to your room, you were reminded of the fact that you shouldn’t have gone to Jack in the first place. There was someone waiting for you downstairs who you knew wouldn’t have someone in their bed, someone completely willing to give up some of their space for you. You let out a sigh, fixing your posture as you headed towards the stairs. The railing was cold on your hand as you made your way down, each shiver a gentle reminder of how long this trip would be. You descended the stairs slowly, trying to ignore the chill seeping into your skin. The house was eerily quiet at this hour, the only sounds being the occasional creak of the wood under your feet and the soft whistling of the wind outside. When you reached the bottom, you looked back up at the stairs, half-hoping Jack might come back down to get you. With a reluctant sigh, knowing he wouldn’t, you made your way to Quinn’s door. You knocked twice, no response. You knocked again, no response. You huffed out your breath, slowly turning the doorknob as you left one last knock. You cracked the door just slightly, catching a glimpse of Quinn asleep in his humongous king-sized bed. You and everyone else knew it was the comfiest bed in the entire house, seeing as Quinn had it decked out with some fancy mattress topper, and an even fancier duvet.

“Quinn,” You whispered from the door, trying to wake him just slightly. He stirred slightly, the soft rise and fall of his chest indicating he was deep in sleep. You hesitated, not wanting to disturb him too much, but you had no other choice. The cold was unbearable, and you could already feel your teeth chattering again as the icy air seeped through the hallway. "Quinn," you whispered again, a little louder this time, your voice slightly pleading. "Quinn, wake up." At the second call, Quinn's eyes fluttered open. He blinked a few times, clearly disoriented, before slowly sitting up in bed. His hair was messy, and the pillow had left an imprint on his face, but he still managed to look effortlessly good.

"Hey," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes with one hand. "What’s going on?"

You stood in the doorway, trying not to look too desperate, but it was hard when you were shaking from the cold. "The house is fucking freezing," you admitted softly, your voice almost embarrassed. "Could I sleep in the bed with you tonight?"

Quinn glanced at the bed, then back at you, his expression softening. He shifted his blankets and patted the space next to him, giving you a knowing smile. "Of course. Sorry, I know I need to get the heater fixed." He chuckled quietly, his voice warm and teasing, but there was no hint of annoyance. "Come on, you’re not bothering me."

“Thanks,” You said, climbing over him to get into the bed. “I’ve literally covered myself in blankets. I think I just need to be held.” You giggled softly, your voice still a whisper. Quinn’s eyes flickered with a hint of amusement as you climbed into the bed, and his grin softened at your words. He adjusted the blankets around you, making sure you were comfortable as he shifted beside you. The bed was spacious, but the warmth from his body was immediately reassuring, like a welcome haven against the cold. Quinn shifted onto his side to face you, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. You wrapped your arms around his body, tucking them underneath his as your face settled into his shoulder. Quinn's warmth enveloped you instantly, his body radiating heat that seeped into your chilled skin. The soft rhythm of his breath, steady and calm, was like a comforting lullaby, a perfect contrast to the cold, silent house around you. He adjusted slightly, pulling you even closer, his arms now fully around you, ensuring you were snug against him. His chest pressed lightly against you, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath you.

"You good?" Quinn murmured, his voice low and soft, a hint of concern lingering despite the ease of the moment. He tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle, like he was careful not to disturb the peaceful stillness that had settled between you.

You hummed quietly, pressing your face deeper into his shoulder, the scent of him, a mix of fresh air and a hint of cologne filling your senses. "Yeah, much better," you whispered, your voice muffled slightly by the fabric of his shirt. The warmth of his body against yours felt like a weight lifting, and you allowed yourself to melt into his embrace.

Quinn's grip on you tightened just a little, his hand resting lightly on your lower back, pulling you closer still. "Good," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't mind being your personal heater."

You chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against his chest. "I think I might take you up on that offer more often."

Quinn laughed quietly, his chest moving with the sound. "Anytime," he said, his tone playful but sincere. "Just...next time, don’t wait so long to ask." You smiled against his shoulder, feeling a warmth that wasn’t just physical, but something deeper, a comfort you hadn't realized you needed until now. There was a quiet, unspoken understanding between you two, something that made the stillness feel comfortable rather than awkward. As the minutes passed, you could feel your body slowly unwinding, the coldness from the night fading away as Quinn's embrace became a sanctuary. His breathing remained steady, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest under your cheek was like a steady anchor, keeping you grounded and at ease.

"Goodnight, Quinny," you murmured, your voice drowsy as your eyelids fluttered shut.

"Goodnight," he replied, his voice softer now, as though he, too, was already slipping into the peaceful quiet of sleep. The world outside the warmth of the bed seemed far away now. In Quinn's arms, you found the kind of peace that let you relax fully, the kind of warmth that only comes from being held by someone who genuinely cared.

#freeabortionslol #lake house groupchat #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #qh43

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ot8xbangchansgirlsblog · 7 months ago

Note

I love ur writing sm, like I would worship you if you wrote this request, basically, you are the 9th member of skz, yall are all dating, and today, they all had a concert. The first half of it went fine, but somewhere in the second half, you all heard gunshots, you reacting the fastest, saw them heading to (member of your choice) so you shove them out of the way while you take the bullet (chivalrous ikr). The members all immediately stop the concert despite u reassuring then you could finish (with blood everywhere) then the ending is just comfort and angst bc they didn't sallow u to do anything, and you got bored. Plsss take ur time if ur going to make this, I will literally cherish this with my heart if you make it

𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕒 𝕓𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕥 ��𝕠𝕣 𝕞𝕖?

Warning: Angst

Summary: Request!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It happened so fast.

One second, Y/N was standing next to Felix and Han, laughing and joking around with them, and the next, there was a blood-curdling scream that shattered the lighthearted atmosphere.

"Guys, duck!" Y/N screamed, her voice sharp and urgent.

She barely had time to process what was happening before instinct took over. In a split second, she shoved Felix and Han out of the way, her hands landing on their shoulders with enough force to knock them off balance. The world seemed to slow as they stumbled back, confusion still clouding their faces.

"Y/N—what—?" Felix started to say, but his words were cut off by the deafening sound of something heavy crashing against the floor.

The moment she pushed them away, Y/N’s eyes darted to the source of the danger. She had been watching them—Felix, Han, and the rest of the group—having fun, playing with the toys and gifts they had gotten from STAY. It was supposed to be a lighthearted day, a sign-meet with fans, some laughter, and silly moments. But something had felt off all day. The atmosphere felt thinner, like the air itself was stretched too tight, and Changbin had been out with a stomach bug, so the energy was lower than usual. They didn’t want to do the event, but it had been scheduled. They had no choice.

They’d gathered so many toys and gifts from STAY that it seemed like they were almost swimming in them. But right now, they were just strolling on stage, talking casually to the fans in the crowd. Y/N had been teasing Chan all day—playfully, of course. Then she had moved on to teasing the members of the Racha subunit—Felix and Han—just like she always did.

"Y/Nnie, look," Felix giggled, suddenly putting a pair of bunny ears on her head.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head in amusement as she grabbed a pair of oversized sunglasses from one of the gifts. "I look ridiculous," she said, still smiling.

"Let's take a picture!" Han beamed, grabbing the selfie stick and clicking a few shots, each one more ridiculous than the last.

Y/N held up a tiny pony plushie in front of them, laughing at how tiny it was. "Look what STAY got me," she giggled, passing it to the two of them.

The pair squatted down, completely entranced by the toy, their faces lighting up with genuine curiosity. Y/N snapped a few pictures of them, capturing how adorable they looked. She smiled softly, feeling a deep warmth in her chest. These were the moments she treasured—the small, quiet seconds when everything felt perfect.

Her gaze shifted over to Hyunjin, who was laughing with his usual carefree energy. She raised an eyebrow, confused, before her eyes landed on Chan.

The sight that met her eyes made her stifle a laugh. Chan, their leader, was wearing a tiara. It was completely ridiculous.

"So silly," she thought, shaking her head with a grin. She opened her mouth to call out to the crowd.

"Stay, don't you think our leader is a little too old to be a princess?" she teased, her voice light and playful.

Before she could even finish her sentence, she heard Chan yell, "Hey!" into the microphone, and a few giggles escaped from the crowd.

STAY responded with loud, drawn-out "nooo's," their laughter ringing out. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully at them but kept her focus on Han and Felix, who were still deeply engrossed in the tiny pony toy.

But something didn’t feel right. A strange sense of unease settled in her chest, making her skin crawl. She was on high alert now, her body rigid as her eyes scanned the surroundings. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

And then it happened.

A sound.

It was faint at first—a click, barely noticeable over the laughter and chatter around her. But it was enough to make Y/N freeze. The sound sent a jolt of adrenaline straight through her, and her military training kicked in. She had been through safety drills before debut, and she knew exactly what that sound was.

A gunshot.

Before she could react, a blur of motion caught her eye. A figure—clad in a large hoodie, with Felix’s SKZOO merch clearly visible—stood up from the crowd. The person’s face was obscured, but their intent was clear. The girl was shaking, tears streaking down her face, but her hands were steady as she raised the weapon in their direction.

Her heart hammered in her chest. Y/N didn’t have time to think. The world moved in slow motion as she lunged forward, adrenaline flooding her body.

"NO!" Y/N screamed, her hands pushing Han and Felix out of the way just as the girl pulled the trigger.

The loud bang of the gunshot reverberated in her ears as Y/N threw herself onto the ground, the sharp, metallic scent of fear thick in the air. Felix and Han hit the floor in a tangle of limbs, their faces contorted in confusion and terror. But Y/N barely noticed.

Her eyes were trained on the girl. The gun had been aimed at the boys, and Y/N’s body had moved before her mind could even catch up.

Everything happened so fast. One second, they were all laughing and smiling, and the next, Y/N had just saved their lives.

But the danger wasn't over. The moment her body hit the ground, she heard the sound of people shouting, running, and chaos erupting all around her.

Security was swift, moving through the chaos like trained professionals, their hands outstretched to clear the crowd and usher the members away from danger. But in the chaos, Felix crawled toward her, his face twisted in panic. His hands grasped at her arm, pulling her closer as he let out a strangled yelp of distress.

"Y/N! No, no, no!" he cried, his voice breaking.

She could barely move, her body feeling heavy and unresponsive. The adrenaline rush was fading, and all that was left was pain. As security worked to move her out of harm's way, Y/N’s side felt like it was on fire. It stung with every movement, sharp and unbearable. She forced her eyes open, her vision hazy, and that’s when she saw it.

Blood.

It was seeping through the fabric of her crop top, dark and spreading quickly. Her breath hitched in her throat.

"Y/N?!" Han’s voice was frantic, barely audible over the chaos, but she could hear the terror in his tone as he tried to reach her. His voice cracked. "Oh my God… Y/N!"

Through the blur of bodies and flashing lights, she saw Chan, Hyunjin, I.N, and Seungmin being pushed away, separated from the group. But even from a distance, Y/N could hear Chan's voice—loud, desperate, shouting for them.

"Do something!" Felix screamed at the security guard who was already dialing 911, his voice thick with panic.

"Y/N? Can you hear me?" Han sobbed, his hands trembling as he tried to pull off her tight clothes to check the wound, his movements erratic in his panic. Felix had moved to her side, gently cradling her head in his hands, trying to keep her conscious.

"We need backup!" the security guard shouted, his voice tense as he spoke into his radio.

Y/N could barely register what was happening. Everything was moving too fast, and she felt too much, too much pressure, too much noise, too many people around her.

"Guys? Where are you?!" I.N shouted, pushing through the commotion, his voice filled with alarm as he searched frantically for his friends.

"Get Chan, I.N!" Felix yelled, his eyes wild with fear. "She got shot! Get him now!"

I.N froze for a second, stunned by the reality of the situation. His gaze swept over Y/N’s body, the blood staining her clothes, and his eyes went wide in shock. "What the hell?!" he gasped, his voice shaking as he took a step back.

"Get Chan, now! Go!" Han shouted again, his voice hoarse from the panic that was threatening to consume him. He reached down, trying to stop the bleeding, but his hands shook too much to do anything useful. He was a mess, just as terrified as Felix.

"Ow..." Y/N gasped, the pain intensifying now that the adrenaline was wearing off. A sharp, searing ache shot through her abdomen, and she couldn’t stop the scream that tore from her throat. It was raw, desperate, and filled with a pain she couldn’t even understand.

Everyone was crowding around her, too many hands, too much noise, too much pressure. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She wanted them all to stop.

"Felix? Han?" she gasped, her chest rising and falling in shallow, panicked breaths. She felt like she was suffocating. "Please... please, let me go." Her voice was weak, barely above a whisper. She couldn’t stand it—everything was too much. She wanted space. She wanted air.

"Baby, we’re right here," Felix’s voice was soft, but there was desperation in it. He was cradling her head, his fingers gentle against her skin. "We’re not going anywhere. We're right here, okay?"

"Chan... Chan..." Y/N whimpered, her hands trembling as she reached out for anything, anything to grab onto. Her fingers found nothing but air. She could feel the pain growing, spreading through her body, and she knew she couldn’t last much longer without him.

"Chan..." she repeated, her voice breaking as she squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to hold on.

The paramedics were on her now, their hands moving quickly as they hooked her up to various machines, pushing IVs into her arms, trying to stabilize her. Y/N barely felt it. The sharp prick of the needles was nothing compared to the agony she felt in her abdomen.

"We need space!" one of the paramedics barked, his voice cold and professional, as the others worked to stabilize her. The security guards, looking frantic themselves, began pushing Felix and Han away to give the paramedics room to work.

"No!" Felix shouted, struggling against the security guard’s hold. His heart was hammering in his chest. "I need to be right here! She’s claustrophobic—don’t you see? She’ll panic if you take us away!"

"Please, we need space to work!" the paramedic insisted, his voice hardening as he tried to maintain control of the situation.

But Felix wasn’t backing down. He twisted in the guard’s grip, desperation clear on his face. "No! You don’t understand! She’ll freak out! She needs us! She needs me!"

"Where is she?! Where is she?!" Chan’s voice rang through the air, raw with panic as he shoved his way through the crowd. His eyes were bloodshot, his face streaked with tears, and his entire body trembled with rage and fear.

I.N had reached him, breathless from running, and before he could say anything, Chan’s eyes locked onto him, wild and frantic. "Where is she?!" he demanded again, his voice breaking.

"She’s over here! She’s over here!" I.N shouted, pointing through the crowd. "They’re working on her, Chan. They’re trying to save her."

The scene in front of him was like a nightmare. Chan’s heart stopped for a moment as he caught sight of Y/N, bloodied and pale, surrounded by paramedics, with Felix and Han still hovering anxiously at her side. His chest tightened, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

He had to get to her. He had too. He couldn’t lose her.

With one final push, Chan broke through the crowd, his eyes wide, his breath ragged. "Y/N!" he cried, reaching for her.

His hands gripped hers with a desperation that didn’t care about the blood soaking into his clothes. The warmth of her skin, so pale and lifeless, felt like the last connection he had to her.

"We need to transfer her now," the paramedic said, his voice steady but urgent. "I’m sorry, sir. You can ride with us if you’d like."

Chan barely heard him. His focus was on Y/N, on her cold hand slipping from his as the paramedics gently lifted her onto the stretcher. His grip faltered, but he didn’t want to let go. Please don’t leave me, his mind screamed, but reality was moving too fast.

“Y-yeah, I’m coming,” he whispered, wiping his face with the back of his hand, trying to clear the tears, but it didn’t matter. They kept coming. He took a shaky breath and stood up, his legs feeling like they might collapse beneath him. He had to move.

“I need Lee Know. Where is he?” Chan asked, his voice hoarse as he searched frantically for a familiar face.

One of the managers, still on the phone, glanced up from her conversation. “His changing room. He doesn’t know anything’s going on right now,” she said quickly, cutting off the call. “Go get Lee Know now,” she ordered another staff member, who immediately ran off in search of the missing member.

Chan nodded, turning to go after Y/N’s stretcher, but a shout stopped him in his tracks.

“Hyung!”

His heart skipped a beat. He turned, finding Felix in I.N’s arms, his face streaked with tears, his body shaking violently. Han, still in a state of panic, had managed to get through the crowd and was now crumpled into Chan’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

“This is my fault, hyung! This is all my fault!” Han choked out between gasps for air, his voice thick with guilt. “She won’t forgive me, she won’t forgive me…”

Chan’s heart broke for him. He pulled Han closer, trying to soothe him, even though his own chest felt like it was being crushed. “Hey… shh,” he cooed softly, brushing his hand through Han’s hair. “Stop. It’s not your fault. You hear me? None of this is your fault. Don’t think like that.”

Han’s sobs only grew louder, and Chan, desperate to calm him, took off his sweater and wrapped it around Han’s shoulders. He was only wearing a vest, and Chan could see how shaken and cold he was. “Let’s go to the hospital, yeah?” Chan said, his voice firm but gentle.

Han nodded slowly, wiping his face with a trembling hand. “Yeah… yeah, hyung.”

Before they could move, another voice cut through the commotion, sharp and full of rage.

“Hyung?! What the hell?!”

Chan turned to find Lee Know standing at the edge of the crowd, his face flushed with anger and confusion. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes—bloodshot from lack of sleep and stress—were scanning the room in disbelief.

“Why wasn’t I told before? Where is she? What the hell happened?” Lee Know was seething, his voice low but furious, and Chan felt his stomach drop.

“She’s with the paramedics,” Chan said quickly, trying to keep his voice steady despite the chaos. “I need you to take the kids and meet me at the hospital. Please.”

Lee Know barely seemed to hear him. His eyes were still darting around the room, searching for something, anything, that could make sense of the mess. “Okay, but if she dies, I swear to God…” His voice trembled with emotion, a dangerous edge creeping into his words. “I’ll sue this company. I don’t care about my image. If anything happens to her…”

“Lee Know, not now, please…” Chan interrupted, his voice pleading as he grabbed his phone from the assistant who had been trying to help him. He needed to leave. He needed to be with her. “Just take care of the kids. Get them to the hospital.”

Lee Know nodded sharply, his face tight with a mix of anger and worry. He didn’t say anything more as he reached for Han, pulling him gently out of Chan’s arms. “I got you, Han. Let’s go.”

Chan didn’t have time to process it all. He was already rushing through the crowd, trying to catch up with the paramedics. His mind was a blur, thoughts racing too fast to make sense of them. All that mattered was Y/N. He had to be with her.

As he finally caught up with the paramedics, his heart skipped again. He sat in the back as he watched them work. He could hear them talking to each other, medical jargon flying over his head, but he didn’t care about any of it. His eyes were fixed on Y/N’s pale form, her chest rising and falling with the aid of an oxygen mask. Her face was still, and the blood on her clothes haunted him, more than any words could.

"Y/N…" he whispered, his voice cracking. "Please, stay with me. Please."

One of the paramedics glanced at him, then at Y/N. "We’re almost there, sir. We need you to stay calm. We’ll do everything we can."

But Chan barely heard them. His grip on his phone tightened, his thumb brushing over the screen as he dialed Changbin, his mind only focused on one thing: whoever did this had to pay.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3

A/N: Thank you @galaxy4489!

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naomihatake · 20 days ago

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A merman's poem, or is it a curse?

pairing: siren Rafayel x princess reader

genre: The Little Mermaid AU, romance, fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, bittersweet ending

content tags: siren/lemurian Rafayel, not exactly slow burn, Rafayel despises humans, discrimination and abuse against merfolk, misogynistic society, explicit reference to deaths and revenge, mentions of rape, on screen injuries and blood, the Sea is a Goddess, grief

word count: 10k words (it's split in 7 parts, all in one post)

theme song: “Quiet Moon” by Colossal Trailer Music

A/N: I let this marinate for around two to three months, I think, but of course I end up posting in the the middle of my final exams. I started this long before even knowing there would be a merman Rafayel myth, but I'm so happy to see his third myth 😭. The trailer is sad and this fic isn't necessarily happy either, but I loved every second of it. (My eyes are puffy, I sobbed when I wrote the final part). Anyways, buckle up to meet a very charming merman

The abyss hugged her into a cold embrace as she sank lower and lower into the sea. She had lost some touch with the world already, as her lungs screamed for the oxygen her body wasn't receiving. The heavy material of her dress clung to her and dragged her lower.

It was getting darker and colder with each second, seconds that stretched into exhausting minutes in her tired brain.

At the surface, sailors, knights and a terrified father screamed her name. Against better judgment, one of the sailors dragged the king before he could drown himself as well.

With a silent prayer, the sailor forced the king back. “May the sea have mercy on her.”

***

Somewhere at the depths of the sea, a creature heard a cry, along with whimpers and pitiful prayers.

“They should learn when not to go on the sea, seriously,” Rafayel scoffed.

The merman watched as a small golden fish danced between his fingers. With a gentle push, the fish kissed his palm. Rafayel smiled softly, almost forgetting about the cries carried by the sea currents.

“May the sea be damned!” an angry man wailed at the storm above him.

“The storm won't stop if you curse the waters, old man,” Rafayel's tone dipped with venom. “You don't hear our cries when you kill our kind. Of course the sea will steal your loved ones. Right, little one?” his purple eyes sparkled at the fish.

The small creature almost bumped into the tip of his nose. With his eyes crossed, Rafayel laughed.

The water seemed to still. Strangely, like there was a weight heavier than the sea could carry.

The storm above was hard to ignore. The sea knew — the sea knew of the grief and the vicious words spoken to Her, She knew there was a young human drowning in it. Unlike them, the Sea was merciful.

Rafayel gulped down. The weight settled on his heart and quickened his heartbeats, body aching restlessly. Raising his head, with a deep frown between his brows, bubbles escaped his lips as he sighed.

Fine. The Sea must know better than him.

So he swam closer and closer to the surface, until a glimpse of color caught his eye. That someone whom the Sea didn't want to kill just yet.

The Sea could be so demanding sometimes.

The poor woman was just as cold as him. Unusual for a human, Rafayel thought as he curled his arms around her body.

A pair of empty eyes opened slowly. All she could hear was a delicate, yet deep hum. A hum that morphed into an incoherent song, a song more beautiful than a lullaby. Her forehead was resting against a cold shoulder, cold yet so tempting. Like something deep within herself, something like desire curled from deep within her chest and unraveled.

Rafayel, with a suspicious eye, watched as she drifted back into slumber. Pushing to the surface of the water, he laid her down on the sand. His neck cracked lightly when he threw his head back to look up at the chaos in the sky.

Thunder boomed heavily and light flashed across the dark grey clouds. The wind was unforgiving, catching onto his long hair.

And when the worst had passed, Rafayel went back into the Sea.

II.

Her father was at fault for the love that nestled in her heart, for how much she adored the sea and the water. Even after almost drowning, she couldn't quite let go of it. When her parents admonished her, she had tried to reason with them.

‘The sea has always been dangerous, but it won't stop me from having a journey once in a while.’

Sadly, they had forbidden her from getting on a ship again. So all she could do was sneak away somewhere close to the sea, not far away from the palace.

Heels discarded on the sand, she lifted the hem of her dress as she stepped into the water. It tickled her toes and lapped at her ankles. Raising her dress a little more, the water was already soaking its hem by the time it reached the middle of her calves.

Taking in a slow, deep breath, she smiled at the bright sky. Having been stuck with royal duties, she had missed the sea. Said royal duties didn't only include private lessons with high-ranked professors or manners and dancing, playing the piano. Sadly, it also meant she was worrying about—

The princess squinted her eyes at the sea. A long shadow swam in the water and… it was heading towards her. Could it be a dolphin? No, they're smaller. It seemed like a humanoid silhouette…

Said creature emerged from the water. All that she knew was the air pushed out of her lungs as a gasp left her lips.

“It’s you,” she breathed out.

The princess had deemed it as a dream. There was no way someone like him existed and no one could've survived in those chaotic waters. Countless people have died on the sea, men lost in its greedy depths.

Him. The man with purple hair she had seen when she drowned in the sea. The long strands of hair fell to his waist, framing his deep gaze. The same tantalizing gaze, the same gem-like eyes, the same sculpted face. A piercing presence that had her heart twist and tremble, something she thought of as a dream.

Under the water, she caught a glimpse of a long tail, the tail… of a fish? No, that was not just a man. It was a merman. It was what sailors feared the most. He was—

He was absolutely ethereal.

Stepping back, she stumbled and fell, hands splayed over the wet sand as she tried to catch herself with lack of grace.

She backed away, fingers digging in the sand. The hand curled around her ankle sent an arrow running through her veins at a rapid pace, eyes widening in surprise and something more. Something a little more palpable, a little stronger, something like fear. With a flinch, the beautiful merman tilted his head to the side as he let go.

“What? That's the gratitude you show me after I've saved your life?”

Glaring at him with caution, she took in his confused expression. An arched eyebrow, purple wet hair glued to his forehead. Seemingly annoyed by the sensation, he ruffled the strands of hair, but his gaze never left hers. Burning into her being, into her soul, just enough to bare her heart to an unknown person. He was forcing her ribcage open with a simple gaze.

All that he found was a dull panic that twisted into knots. Something raw, but ever present, like the anticipation has been building up slowly for years.

Like something might snap anytime.

“What're you doing?” came out her shuddering murmur.

Rafayel almost scoffed. “What do you mean?”

“Gripping at me.”

Her voice didn't crack and she didn't stutter, but she could feel the air get stuck at the base of her throat. Was she gonna die? The merman looked over body, down her dress, until his gaze fell on her exposed ankle.

“You’re the one who owes me something,” and he leaned back a little.

Even that little frown in between his brows looked mesmerizing on his pristine face. Every night, she falls asleep after mumbling a prayer to the Gods above and she wholeheartedly believed he'd been sculpted by them personally. They've taken their sweet time when they made him out of sand and sea shells. The most thoughtful thing was that they probably stole two stars from the sky and created his eyes.

That must be it. Otherwise, she couldn't explain to herself, his very being, his very existence.

“What did you think I was going to do, cutie?”

She clicked her tongue at the petname, bringing her knees a little closer to herself. Away from him. This time, however, he looked at her as if he wanted to unravel even more of her, as if he was ready to untwist her bloody vessels from her heart. Oddly suspicious, he seemed.

“I don't know about mermen, but on land, men are merciless with lone women.”

Or so she heard. Still unmarried, which was unusual considering she was close to her nineteenth birthday. Rare were the times when she got the chance to go around the kingdom or even be alone, but she's caught maids whispering between them. She had been lectured by her mother that whatever may her future husband ever want, she shall be delighted to offer it to him. No matter what it is, because otherwise she'd be just a stubborn daughter and an ungrateful wife.

Rafayel’s expression morphed into one of astonishment. As if he, too, has heard of stories from above the waterline, about how humans treat each other. As if he has heard stories of weeping women that had lost a child at birth and were roughly handled by their husbands. As if he has heard a mother scolding her young daughter for being disobedient.

“You humans really are merciless, aren't you?”

“Tell me about it,” she snapped her head to the other side.

Shifting on the sand, she curled her arms around her knees and breathed in deeply. She didn't want to leave just yet — he was at fault for her reluctance. Rafayel hadn't lied when he called her curious.

The noises of sloshing water nudged her to turn her head back to the merman, who was shifting a little closer. Sitting on the sand with his tail still in the water, he leaned on one arm as he took her in. His gaze reflected hers; curious and intense, with a tinge of interest. Stripping each other of their skin. There was something similar to paint on his collarbones, running down his arms, but it didn't wash away in the waves. Her eyes lingered, until she got the chance to admire his tail.

The scales sparkled under the sun rays like the kind of gems nobles would cry for. Light nuances of blue and purple blended together perfectly and she might've seen those colors during sunsets, when the world around takes her breath away. It was huge — two times longer than the upper half of his body. Her fingertips ached to touch.

“Now it's my turn to ask what your intentions are.”

His low tone sent a dangerous shiver down her spine. Eyes widening for a mere second, she snapped out of her reverie. She was gawking at him, and he didn't seem to like it. If anything, he quite despised it.

“You're just pretty,” she reasoned all of a sudden.

Not even a second later, blush creeped up her face and reddened her ears. What was she thinking, saying a thing like that?

“I mean— I don't—”

“What don't you?” he arched his eyebrow at her.

Rafayel regarded her like a predator ready to snare, like someone who acted benevolent because it suited him. However, something much more tender was hidden behind that threatening tone. Vulnerable almost, like he, too, wanted to find more than cruelty in someone, like he was desperately holding onto a strand of hope. Although hope is just a fragile piece of glass, they clung onto it, hoping the other doesn't want to bring doom over them.

She felt like a fish on dry sand and it was an awful sensation. Such a commanding presence, suffocating, leaving her bare. Even as she wanted to search for more in the little cracks of his personality, it was a damn hard task.

“I don't mean anything bad by that,” she whispered, voice trailing off.

Unsure, confused. Worried that she might've said something wrong, even if usually a man's reaction would've been an attempt to flirt. Instead, he regarded her with caution.

For him, that compliment didn't sit right. On a normal day, a human would've already been plotting how to rip the scales off of him and bring him to tears. Instead, she wore a delicate expression, anxious.

“What is it supposed to mean, then?”

(He wanted to punish himself for the way his voice softened just a bit.)

“I mean that you're beautiful. Like art.”

“And what do you intend to do about that?”

“Look at you?” and now it was her time to awkwardly tilt her head to the side.

Not in a ‘I'll strip you of your scales’ way, but more like ‘you're too gorgeous to get my eyes off of you and I can't really help myself’. He didn't feel analyzed or looked at like he was an object, but more like… admired. Rafayel felt admired, the same way children look up at a whale's belly when it swims above them. The same way he looks at colorful corrals when he's playing hide and seek with the fish.

The princess could feel the shift in his demeanor, so she leaned in a little closer. Just enough to get a better look of his eyes, close enough to feel a cold scent waffling in the air. Close enough for a small smile to break on her lips when the top of his walls crumbled.

The merman averted his gaze with a faint pink tinting his cheeks. He really was like a piece of art.

“I might be from underwater, but staring it's rude,” he quipped, throwing her a glare.

It was half hearted, actually. Some of his pride swelled at being admired, and in such an innocent way nonetheless.

“I'm sorry about that,” she pulled her lips in a tight line and averted her gaze.

The sea was lapping at her feet and she stretched her legs just a little more. The midday sun warmed up the water and she couldn't help the urge to seek that comforting sensation. As if the water gained a mind of itself and was indulging into her childish needs, kissing her ankles but never going further. Shy.

“Why did you save me?” she whispered into nowhere.

Gulping down, the princess tried to swallow down the lump in her throat. After all, the stories she's heard about mermaids were awful at best; most of them ended with a bloodbath and sailors drowning in the sea as the creatures took revenge for their stolen tears and scales, for their ripped silky tails. A never ending cycle. Most stories spoke of beautiful maidens with long tails, but the one next to her was the most beautiful man she's ever laid eyes on.

And dangerous nonetheless — she could feel it in her chest, the waves of a threat lapping at her heart.

“I wonder,” he hummed softly.

This time, as she turned to take him in once again, he stared forward at the sea with a gentle expression on his face.

How long until he shows his claws and drowns her too?

III.

Rafayel never did. The sound of his name rolling on her tongue sounded like musical notes, strangely. Maybe he's already sung the song of her death and she's been put under a spell, maybe she was already going insane. She continued to seek him out, always slipping away from her chambers before dinner. When the sun basked in the cool of the sea and the sky was a splendid canvas of colors, she would sit on the sand. More often than not, the merman would emerge from the water and sit next to her.

One time, he caught her with a book in between her fingers. Knees bent, the princess rested it on her legs as she murmured something. The splash of water didn't seem to wake her up from her dreamy gaze.

“Princess?”

Raising her head, she locked eyes with the beautiful merman. He was resting on his front side, tail flicking playfully in the air. Rafayel wore a curious smile on his face, the colors in his eyes so similar to the sunset.

He was a sight to behold. The Gods above have created him to bewitch everyone that happens to lay eyes on him.

The merman wasn't necessarily surprised by the look in her eyes — it was to be expected and it stroked his ego. However, the tenderness sculpted in her features whenever she looked at him was queer. Humans were supposed to be sexually seduced, to lust over him. They weren't supposed to blink shily and wear a tiny smile on their faces. She shouldn't grin so… cutely at him.

“Hello to you too,” she hummed as she laid her legs on the wet sand.

“What are you reading about?” he found himself asking before he could stop.

Her gaze flickered between the book and the merman.

“Love poems. They're quite sad, though.”

“Aren't you a princess?” he arched his eyebrow at her, as if doubting her title as a future ruler. “With duties and stuff?”

“Oh, believe me, I've been buried with political issues and strategic plans until now. And not that I dislike them, they're quite charming, but I've had enough of them for today.”

At that answer, his lips twitched into a proud smile. So his princess was smart, hm?

“For a moment, I thought all heirs on land are puppets of their parents.”

With a roll of her eyes, she snapped her book closed. This fishie loved to tease her.

“The amount of arguments I get into with my family is proof that you're wrong.”

“Now that's a rebellious daughter,” he chuckled.

Tilting her head to the side, she shot him with a curious gaze. With one of his elbows digging in the sand, he rested his face into his palm, watching her. She wished she was a painter — maybe then she'd be able to stop the time in its tracks and capture the beauty of this scene. The princess wondered what kind of twisted pleasure people got from destroying the lives of other beings, ripping them away from the sea when they so obviously belonged there.

“What kind of hierarchies do you have?” she wondered out loud. “I suppose there has to be some kind of leader or ruler, right?”

“You're not wrong.”

However, he squinted his eyes at her. Cautious, it seemed like, because important information could always be used against him. Despite the palpable sincerity he recognized within her, the feelings she wore on her sleeve (as he had noticed in various stances when they saw each other), Rafayel was wary of her. A little.

Deep down, he wanted to get rid of that feeling of fondness that spoke her name. He denied and refused it, hiding it in the shell of his heart. A heart that shall be firm and strong, for everyone's sake. He couldn't be the son of the Sea in her eyes, or else everything could be ruined.

“However, you're far harsher with your titles of nobility,” he scoffed.

With a sigh, she looked at the book in her lap.

“There are a lot of issues, I have to admit. The children of nobility read of philosophers that believed in better worlds, but it seems futile on land. The classes are so carefully crafted, one cannot ever forget the birthmark of their social status. Is it like that amongst your kind as well?”

Sincerity. He hated it. He despised the honesty dripping in her tone like the sweetest of corals.

Staring at her for a little longer, he pondered on his answer.

“Our communities are tightly holding onto each other. We're all one. There's not much regarding wealth.”

“How come it feels like you know more about my world than I know about yours? Aren't you scared of being caught by the people if you poke too deep?”

With an incredulous chuckle, Rafayel ran a hand through his damp hair.

“Princess, sailors of nobles come with books on their ships. We got our hands on plenty of information. You truly are cruel creatures.”

Eyes widening slightly, she seemed to put together the pieces.

“Of course. No sailor can dive that deep into the waters, but it's easy to drown a ship. Genius,” she shook her head with a chuckle of her own.

Rafayel blinked and all of a sudden. He seemed like a cute fish with big eyes. (Gosh, he was so cute at times.) Confusion written all over his face, he silently waited for an explanation behind her reaction. She should be mad at him, should curse him and, worst of them all, call for some other stupid humans to catch and torture him.

The princess caught onto his reaction and all he received was a shrug. “I have heard of siren tails being cut off. My parents had received one as a gift on the 10th anniversary of their marriage.”

Rafayel felt rage curl around his throat like a vice. Gulping down, his eyes narrowed into slits as he tried not to snap at her. He wondered where her little speech will lead to. The neutral tone he was regarded with fueled the fire burning deep in his chest, beneath the same scales humans wished to pluck from his skin.

“I've seen pearls that craftsmen claimed to be made of a mermaid's tears and I have watched the King's most trusted knight wield a sword adorned with sharp red scales. Drowning our ships is the least you can do to avenge your loved ones.”

The merman was silent. As he continued to take her presence in and let the words sink in, Rafayel recognized a certain fear in the corners of her eyes. She gripped at her book, as if scared of what might happen to her for touching such a sensitive topic.

Tilting her head forward, the princess didn't dare meet his eyes anymore. Guilty and a little scared, all she could do was wait.

“It is the least we could do,” he hummed lowly, low as the thunder that booms in the sky. “We could've done much worse. At least we don't rape our prisoners and make slaves out of them.”

The truth felt venomous on the tip of his tongue and he meant it with his everything. The reality sunk deeper into her being and she nodded sadly. Wondering what could lead to such hatred between two rational species, she couldn't find an answer. (She was in no place to complain or act as a victim either, even if she could become one at any moment.)

Snapping his head towards the sea, for the umpteenth time, Rafayel questioned his sanity for spending time with her — with a human. He questioned his loyalty and morals. For a moment, he hated himself for choosing to follow his curiosity and see this human, this woman—

When his eyes snapped back to her figure, he saw the same mournful expression on her face. She couldn't possibly know what it means to lose some of your own because of the selfish reasons of another. That's how humans are — always greedy. She couldn't fathom such a thing, not to the extent he did.

However, something familiar was written on her face, something he's seen in his own reflection.

“Human,” he murmured lowly.

The princess raised her head with a hum.

“Do you wear those cursed pearls? Do you wield those venomous weapons? Do you admire the tails that are hung like portraits?”

Something within her chest curled and twisted like an animal, like his words had a life of their own and they twisted in her heart. And maybe they did, when her heart was too full with feelings of all sorts, when she wished things had been better.

“I don't,” she whispered in a tight tone, never shifting her gaze from him, not this time. She hoped, deep down, that maybe his hatred would be quenched if she was to be harmed.

A human. Stupid and egoistic. She hoped the lives that have been lost on land and in the sea would find peace.

“Do you search for mermaids and mermen when you sail?”

“I don't.”

With another huff, he looked away. Solemnly, he blinked at the still sea and gulped.

“Have you ever done something to get a mermaid out of a human's hands?”

“I have.”

That he hasn't expected. Once again, he was wary of her words, even if he couldn't sense any lies.

“Then maybe you'll be able to change something,” Rafayel wondered out loud.

Nothing was for sure. He didn't know if she would ever fall on the path of the ones who've raised her, filled with egoism.

IV.

She couldn't comprehend how she ended up glued to the merman she's been enamoured with. It was almost impossible, how fate turned her life upside down, how it brought Rafayel before her eyes and shifted the course of her future.

(The young lady had stumbled with her heels in the sand while she had been complaining about politics in an animated voice.)

He was even prettier from up-close, when she could admire the small scales on his cheekbone. They were barely visible and her fingers ached to touch. His usually pale skin was tinted pink on the sides and the tips of his ears were on fire. His calculated gaze had been long forgotten, instead replaced by the most adorable eyes she's ever seen — like a deer caught in the daylight. Long hair draped over the sand like a deep purple halo around his head; sometimes she remembered he was a siren, ethereal and out of this world.

Both his arms were curled around her waist. His grip was unsure — did he want to push her away or bring her closer? He didn't know.

What she didn't know was that her expression mirrored his. She was tense above him, as the material of her dress was absorbing the water on his body. Big, sweet eyes staring down at him while his heart threatened to burst. It swelled like a puffer fish, but it lacked poison.

Rafayel has probably put a spell on her, since all rational thoughts have been washed away when her hand rose. With the tip of her fingers, she traced the tender scales on his face. Scared, absolutely terrified of hurting him, she almost flinched away at first. However, the merman didn't wince. His gaze softened and she could feel his body melt underneath her.

“Isn't the dry sand uncomfortable on your back?” she asked in a voice as gentle as the sea breeze.

All he did was shake his head. Stealing a glance at her hand, he looked at her expectantly. Touch me again.

So she did. She cupped his cheek in her palm and caressed the soft, transparent scales on his cheek. Trailing her fingers down to his jaw, she leaned in closer. The tip of her nose pressed into his cheek and a smile bloomed on her lips.

Who would've thought love feels so warm? Who would've thought that she'd ever melt in the arms of a man, a siren?

Rafayel watched her with utmost interest. He knew she was smiling by the shift of her face so close to his and it only relaxed him further. He had to admit, the sand getting glued to his wet back was a little unpleasant, but he couldn't find it within himself to move.

“Cutie, are you trying to reverse our roles and seduce me?”

Her face turned red like a clown fish. Suddenly raising her head, she pressed her palms against the expanse of his bare chest. Frowning at him so cutely, Rafayel laughed with amusement. Throwing his head back as his shoulders shook with his laughter, he felt her halfheartedly hit his chest.

“Rafayel! You're a menace,” came out her annoyed complaint. “You stupid fish.”

“Smarter than you if I caught you with such a lame line.”

Of course he'd continue to tease her. Stupid fish. Gorgeous stupid fish.

Her gaze shifted to his exposed neck and she finally got the chance to admire the carefully crafted scales on his neck. It looked similar to the gills of a fish and they seemed just as soft as the ones on his cheeks.

He had a beautiful neck.

The princess was ashamed of her own thoughts. With a huff, she hid her face into the crook of his neck.

The merman's response was the shift of an arm that raised from her waist a little higher, until it was securely wrapped around her shoulders. Cold to the touch, he brought a pleasant chill down her spine when his fingers brushed over her nape, tangling in her hair.

“Princess,” Rafayel hummed in a low, gentle tone.

The lady in question didn't stir. She shifted above him, slipping her hands underneath his shoulder blades and holding tightly onto him. Her frown hasn't disappeared either. The merman could picture the pout on his princess’s adorable face.

With a noncommittal hum, she responded.

“Let me take a proper look at your face, cutie,” a sweet giggle escaped his lips.

“You'll tease me,” she scoffed, words muffled against his skin.

With a soft flinch, another giggle escaped him. Out of the blue, the alarmed lady above him raised her head.

“Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to. Am I too—”

Rafayel pressed his palm against her lips to shut down her babbling. She was certain she'd never seen such a gentle expression on his face.

“Your breath tickled me. I'm fine, pretty.”

With a tiny relieved sigh, she continued to look into his eyes. The hand on her lips moved lower and cupped the side of her neck, thumb pressing against her pulse. Life thrummed right under the weight of his finger and it filled him with an ineffable sensation. Heat raised to her face once more, but she didn't shift her gaze away that time.

She wanted to kiss him. But they knew what would happen then. They knew it'd bring a tragedy upon them.

Against better judgment, her heart ached to press her lips against his skin, against anywhere she would be allowed. To run her fingers through his long hair. She ached to be closer, to feel his chest against hers, to get rid of her annoying dress—

“What's gotten you so flushed?” he arched an eyebrow at her.

As if he didn't know. As if he didn't feel the love and the tension swirling in the air.

“Your hand touched my lips…” she started in a small voice. “Does that mean I can— that I can kiss you? Like, anything but your lips?”

Ashamed of her own question, she looked away. Rafayel felt her tense once again. Truth be told, if she paid enough attention, she'd see his widened eyes and the shock written on his face.

Curiosity got the best of him. No, love did, bringing to life something he didn't know could take such violent forms.

Something tugged painfully at his gut.

“You wouldn't kiss my lips?” came out his whisper.

“Are you insane?!” she snapped her head towards him. Wearing a frown, she gulped. “Of course not, Rafayel. I don't want you to disappear and I don't want you to suffer. Why would I kiss you if it was to hurt you?”

“Even if I wanted you to kiss me?”

The vulnerability in his tone put out some flames in her heart.

“You are, indeed, a stupid fish,” she clicked her tongue. “I wouldn't. You must have a very bad impression of me if you think I take your presence for granted—”

Her rambling had been stopped by the press of his lips against her neck. Yelping, her nails sank into his shoulders. Rafayel felt her shudder as a certain satisfaction coiled in his stomach. Her open mouth made space for a heavy breath. The merman licked at her pulse with the tip of his tongue and groaned. That beautiful scent of hers was on his tongue and he wanted nothing more than to take and take and take.

The poor heart in between her ribs was going to jump into the sea if he kept it up like that.

“Does that answer your question?”

“Ra— Rafayel,” she whined.

Moving his head away, he got the chance to admire the blush on her cheeks and her tightly squeezed eyes. He could see the parting of her lips, but his soul had already chosen her.

And he couldn't go against her wish, could he? No, that would curse him for the rest of his lives.

“I wish I thought that way about you,” he admitted in a shameful voice. That brought her attention to him. “But I don't. I can see that you care, cutie.”

“That's good,” she hummed as a smile curled onto her lips. “I wouldn't want you to believe anything else. Because I do care, Rafayel. I want you to know that, always.”

Always. Because her love was full of shifts, but it always kept on growing, it turned into a berserk beast-like creature who chewed onto anything that threatened to hurt what she loved.

Despite the fact that later that night, after they had parted ways, her parents will have an “important” conversation about her future husband. Despite it all, she loves him and she knows. Even as she cries with her face in her palms, she knows her love is there. Even when her hand runs down her neck, where his lips had touched her, she's wholeheartedly aware of her doom.

“Do you want to come in the water with me?”

Once again, he emerged from the sea with a grin on his face. He's been watching her eye him, the way he swam, the way he seemed so at peace with everything. Rafayel seemed so happy, floating at the surface of the sea.

However, she felt stuck there, on the sand. Fingers curled into the material of her own dress as she looked at him with a frown and a small pout.

“You're sulking,” he taunted her. Such an annoying fish.

“I'm not,” she huffed, turning her head to the side.

From behind the huge stones where they were, she could only see the tower of her family’s palace. They had forbidden her from going in the water again, but that wasn't the same, was it? It would be a small trip, close to the shoreline, safe…

Safe. She would expect Rafayel to make sure she doesn't drown. Uncertainty gnawed at her heart.

The grip she had on her dress loosened. The light pink material curled in the breeze at her ankles and she sighed heavily.

“Cutie?”

This time, he was closer. Weight settled on the hands in the sand, he tilted his head to the side with a little frown. If she didn't know any better, she'd believe that was worry. Maybe it really was.

The princess had told her parents that it didn't matter, that the incident didn't change her relationship with the sea, the fondness she had whenever she was on water. However, in there was nestled a lie — a part of her was scared. Scared that a sudden storm might appear out of the blue, scared that something would be wrong with the ship, scared that the Gods won't be mercy and second time. Scared that there won't be Rafayel next time.

“You seem unsure.” It was, probably, the first time he's ever spoken so softly, so patiently. “But the Sea doesn't want revenge. It is us who do. She's benevolent.”

Rolling over, he sat on the sand and patted the place next to him. Without much thought, she settled next to him, knees pulled close to her chest. The dress raised up her calf a little, exposing her skin to the cool breeze.

“She nudged me to get you out of the water,” Rafayel hummed dreamily. He continued to look at her profile. “She wanted to save you. Otherwise, I wouldn't have had a reason to save you.”

It was his honesty that made the young lady turn her head to him. Curiousity sparkled in her eyes, and as their gazes met, fire burnt in between them. Slowly, steady, like the flame of a candle.

“This time, however, I want you in the water. And I'll make sure you're alright. Also, it would be sad for you to lose your trust in Her.”

The princess blinked.

“Is She… like a God to you?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Sometimes She's merciful because you pay Her respects. However, She's at Her worst when humans harm one of our own. We're Her children.”

She nodded at him. A comfortable feeling washed over her. So She was like a Mother to them. Of course She'd seek vengeance once in a while, when Her kids are harmed.

Rafayel pushed herself back in the water, extending his hand towards her.

“I'll hold your hand.”

Sirens lure in humans and make them drown. They bewitch men and women alike with the sole reason to kill them. They're merciless and angry, always greedy to take one more life. Never trust someone who has claimed to live in the sea, for that is the home of monstrous creatures.

However, the merman before her eyes smiled sincerely at her, still waiting. Truth be told, she couldn't deny the magic of his words, of his presence. Something within her wished to see his long purple hair flow in the water like seaweed. She wanted to see him in all his glory, in the sea, happy and at peace.

Against better judgement, she took his hand. Standing up, she slowly walked into the sea, her feet sinking in the sand. One hand gripping at her skirt, she raised its hem at the front and walked with Rafayel as he swam. It reached her ankles, then her calf and her knees. By that point, holding her skirt up was to no use, so she let go of it.

If she returns back home and the dress is still soaking wet, her parents won't even let her get out of her chambers. But, she continued to walk deeper into the water, hand in hand with the merman.

Until the water reached her waist and she held her breath at the cold pricking at her skin. Gulping, she hasn't realized just how fast her heart beat, how her hands trembled. Rafayel took her other hand in his. He stopped her there, waiting.

“Everything alright?” he hummed.

Raising her gaze to his, she breathed in deeply.

The weather was good, it was the kind of weather sailors would thank the skies for. A few fluffy clouds floated far above the land and the water was calm.

The princess gripped tighter onto his hands. With a nod, she felt the fear being washed away. Instead, the hollow in her chest was filled with excitement.

“It seems like a yes,” the merman chuckled.

The young lady let go of his hands, only to step closer to him and curl her fingers around his forearms. A warm touch, reassuring and so endearing. Rafayel felt the air get knocked out of his chest at that tender touch.

“Can we go a little further?”

“Wherever you want, princess.”

And just like that, he guided her deeper and deeper into the water. At some point, he curled his arms around her waist and placed her arms around his neck.

“Do you trust me?” he asked the moment a flicker of uncertainty flashed in her eyes.

“I do,” came her immediate response.

“Then hold onto me.”

She did. The princess caressed his silky hair and got closer, their chests glued together. It lacked manners and courtesy, it lacked modesty, her wet clothes leaving little to the imagination. She could feel his body, every curve, every lean muscle. A light blush took over her cheeks, but happiness overturned the embarrassment.

She was in the sea. Swimming, almost, both of Rafayel's arms curled around her waist. He admired her like a precious gem, keeping her close, the warmth of her body seeping into his skin.

“You're so beautiful like this,” he smiled gently. “Happy.”

He watched those beautiful eyes stare up at him with wonder and fire, face lit up with joy. She raised one of her hands to get the damp bangs out of his eyes, caressing his cheek in the process. Her hand settled on his neck and he shuddered at the touch. The scales on his neck were soft and ticklish, but he relished in the sensation. Rafayel leaned in, his forehead falling on her shoulder as he held her in his arms.

Under the water, his tail flicked gently, keeping them at the surface. The merman stopped moving when she wrapped her arms better around his shoulders, leaving a gentle kiss behind his ear. There was a light scar there — she stared at it with worry. Without a second thought, she left another kiss. Rafayel squeezed her closer in their embrace.

“I hope… I hope you feel it. My affection.”

Despite the innocence of her words, a slight blush creeped up her cheeks. The tips of his ears turned red. The tenderness didn't leave enough space for embarrassment.

“All of it, princess,” he exhaled against her shoulder, his hot breath hitting her collarbone.

One of his hands splayed over her shoulder blades, keeping her near. It wasn't a prison if she wanted to be there.

Rafayel rubbed his nose against the base of her neck and her pulse quickened. With a flutter of her eyelashes, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to sink in that scorching feeling.

VI.

Her heart ached. Her soul shook with pain and her body trembled with anger.

Her nineteenth birthday ceremony was supposed to be a thrilling event. To bring a smile on her face, a chance for her to forget a little about her duties and get some rest. Of course, a princess was always pampered, but she never took it for granted — thankfully, her parents had been down to earth and had taught her well.

However, there was one thing they completely failed at, and that was letting their daughter be free. Not because she'd give up on her duties, but because she was a daughter before being a princess.

Or so she hoped. The reality was that she's never been just a child, just a lady, but always a princess. A role, a pawn. A gift wrapped in the skin of a woman, because someone will inevitably take her hand and that someone will not be the one she loves.

“Your father and I had to learn how to love each other as well, dear. There's no running from your fate and purpose. You can't be that selfish, can you?” her mother had kissed her cheek in the morning.

A tear slipped down her cheeks, but there was no one to wipe it off.

“Eric is a devoted prince and he's been trying to court you for the past month. Today is your birthday and he will attend this special event. It is time that you marry someone and I wholeheartedly believe he is the best option out there,” her father had reassured her in a firm tone.

Her heart clenched, but there was no one to hold her.

“If you find another gentleman that suits your tastes better, we will not stop you. But, please, my dear, today is the day that you choose someone to spend the rest of your life with,” her mother had tried to soothe her.

Her fingers curled into fists in her lap, because she ached for the time to pass by faster so she could see Rafayel.

Eric had proven himself to be a true gentleman, charming even. He had kissed her hand with a polite bow and had bathed her in tender compliments. Just a few years older, he was mature and understanding. Patient and calm (and it didn't feel like a facade at all), his gift had been the most… gruesome of them all. Supposedly beautiful, but tragic.

When he opened the small purple box, the princess was greeted by the most mesmerizing and well crafted necklace she's ever seen. However, horror struck her when her eyes laid upon the purple scale that shone in the lights of the ballroom.

“It's a mermaid's.”

It was astonishing how similar that color was to Rafayel's scales.

Right then and there, she wanted to cry. She wanted to sink to her knees and wail, wished for that palace to crumble down into pieces. The young lady had rarely ever felt such pain, such grief pierce through her chest like a poisoned sword.

She locked eyes with her parents. Her mother smiled and silently ushered her to accept the gift.

“I have never seen such beautiful jewelry,” she lied through her teeth as she took the gift from his hand. (Their fingers touched and an uncomfortable shiver ran down her arms.) “I promise to treasure it. If it isn't too rude of me to say, I'd like to wear the jewelry my mother had gifted me tonight.”

An easy excuse. He didn't bat an eye, no one did.

***

Tears fell down her cheeks as she ran out of the palace. Most of the knights were busy at the gates; some of them were already drunk on rich wine.

Stumbling on the dry sand in the dead of the night, she slipped out of her heels and rushed to the shoreline. Sobs got caught in her throat every time she breathed into the cold air. It bit at her skin, the thin silky dress on her doing nothing to hide her from the cold, but she cared not. Rushing behind the palace, next to the enormous rocks she always hid behind when she was meeting Rafayel, the young lady cursed her life.

As expected, a special someone was basking in the light of the moon, in the flicker of the stars above. The night before she had told him she would be late to their usual meeting because of the ceremony and he had promised to wait for her.

“Rafayel!” alarmed, she spoke his name.

As he sat on the sand, the merman's head snapped to her and the wide smile on his lips shattered when he saw the tears on her cheeks, when he read the distress on her face.

“My love, what happened?”

Extending an arm towards her, he was delighted to feel the warmth of her hand against his. Before he could process it, she dropped into his embrace and curled her arms around his bare waist.

“Cutie,” he whispered in a honeyed tone. Rafayel ran a hand over her back — it was bare as the dress exposed her soft skin. “I'm right here. I told you I'm stronger than the sailors, haven't I?”

Dread rushed through his veins at his lover's display of vulnerability. Who could've brought her in such a state? What could've made her sob like that against his chest, what could've caused her such pain?

“Rafayel,” she had whispered his name once more, voice cracking.

The merman held her a little tighter as he kissed her forehead. With nimble fingers, he took off the intricate jewelry in her hair and laid them down. All of that just so he could run a hand through her hair, so he could feel her beneath his touch, so he could breathe her in.

Her silent sobs came to a stop and only then had he cupped her face in his palms, raising her head. Beautiful glassy eyes looked at him with a sadness so deep, so intense it cut through his heart, the heart engraved with her name on it.

“How come this beautiful birthday girl is crying, hm? What happened?” A soft tone that hid another million questions, a gentleness that disguised the heavy violence he was ready to inflict upon anyone that had brought her to such a state.

Rafayel was not a forgiving creature. No, he never forgot and he rarely ever forgave, because there's no place for forgiveness when someone so loved by him is involved. Where there's hatred, there will be love, and where there's love, there's violence.

“I have to get married,” she whispered.

Fear cursed through her veins. Will he let go? Will he leave and go back to the sea, will he deprive her of his soothing touch, of his loving kisses?

Rafayel hummed, lips pulled in a tight line. With a slight frown, he took a deep breath. His touch never wavered. (His love was stronger than a frivolous decision.)

“You've always known you'd have to, didn't you?”

“I'm sorry. I swear, I didn't mean to deceive you, I only meant to—”

“To love me?” Such a soft voice, such a beautiful word.

Tears threatened to spill over again. Her nails left faint scratches against his pale skin, her body growing rigid beneath his hands.

“Yes,” she breathed out.

“I know.”

He knows. He knew there hadn't been any malicious intent behind her actions, he knew she'd kissed him with the hope of never having to let go, he knew she loves him. Loves. When they had kissed, when they were holding at that very moment, when they would kiss for the last time.

“You've said it dozens of times,” he brushed his thumb over her quivering chin. “Even when your lips didn't open, you've said it. When you kissed me, when you held me, when you cried with the fear of losing me.”

The princess's eyes widened in surprise. How could he—

“Whatever you feel when you think of me, I know it. I feel it too.”

Rafayel took one of her hands in his own and placed it on his chest, over his heart. It was beating wildly in the cage of his ribs, it beat with the love he harbored for her, it beat with devotion and intensity.

“That's how mermaids are. So when I tell you that I love you, it means you're the only one I've ever loved like this, it means I'll love you in every life to come. It means that my heart is forever yours, my princess.”

Her eyes glistened. Watching his gaze get watery, she pressed her palm against his chest and leaned in, so that her forehead was glued to his.

The Sea shook and its waves started to get violent. It hungrily lapped at the hem of her dress, at his tail. It was cold, but the warmth radiating between the two of them was enough. Rafayel held her against him, his grip secure and firm, unwavering.

The stars dimmed a little, as if they, too, had teared up.

VII.

“You will marry this man!”

The argument arised for the hundredth time. Her mother was exasperated because of her daughter's whims, as she's called them.

“I don't find anything in him, mother,” the young lady almost whimpered.

Her voice cracked at the mere thought of it, of having to let go of her merman and fall into another man's bedding—

No. Absolutely not.

“You'll have to find something,” her mother's tone softened at the edges.

The poor woman felt like she'd aged decades in the span of a few days, as she watched her daughter isolate herself more and more, always daydreaming, staring out the window and the mesmerizing sea.

“Is there anything we can do to convince you? You are nineteen, my dear. You must marry, it's already—”

“The sea.”

The woman blinked. Her face hardened.

“No. You know what happened last time.”

“Then I'm not marrying anyone.” Her daughter was not relenting.

The air was tense. Her mother's hands trembled and she sat at the edge of the bed, sluggish.

She had watched her husband come back from the sea without their daughter and the world had crumbled before her eyes. How could she allow such a thing to happen again?

“Mother,” the princess pleaded. “One last time on the sea. And I promise, I'll marry anyone. Just one last time.”

Because if they dared tie her down to a man on land, they'd strip her of her freedom to go on sea. They'd take away her life, they'd take away her air, they'd take away her lover.

The queen curled her fingers into her lap. What could she do?

“Fine. I'll… I'll talk with your father.”

***

“Rafayel,” she whispered, voice hoarse.

“I'm here,” the siren hummed.

He cupped her cheek with his cold palm and she closed her eyes. The color in her eyes had dimmed and he gulped down, watching as life slowly faded out of her. Slow, agonizing — with a wince, she gasped.

The pain in her stomach won't stop anytime soon and they knew. She was bleeding, the lilac nuances of her dress tainted dark. The piece of wood was stuck in her flesh and Rafayel was too scared of hurting her. He didn't try to get it out, for she would bleed even heavier.

Rafayel pressed his forehead against hers, his hair draping over the sides of their faces like a silky curtain. All he could see was her — and she wouldn't have it any other way.

“You were a fool,” he scolded her in a pained tone. Anger slipped through. “I told you there would be a storm today.”

“I know,” she smiled lovingly.

It struck him. She did it and took full advantage of the information. What she's done—

A desperate plea, that's what her name sounded like from his lips.

“You could've lived,” he hissed.

“I would've died sooner or later,” she shook her head.

“Marriage, that's all. Just on paper, if you were lucky, no expectations added.”

“That was just a dream, Raf,” she gulped, squeezing her eyes shut.

“You would've lived.” This time, it came out like a sob.

His pained expression mirrored hers. Tears burnt behind his eyes. She felt a tiny, round object fall on her cheek and roll down into the sand.

“No, no.”

With all the strength she could muster, she cupped his face in her palms and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. It was warm, and Rafayel had decided to let the warmth of her last moments be his doom. Resting his weight on his elbows, he placed one of his hands over hers, pressing her palm deeper into his skin. Tears that started out as droplets and quickly turned into pearls.

They slipped through her fingertips. Some of them fell on her neck, others in the sand.

“My love,” she stroked the skin under his eyes. “Don't cry.”

“You're dying,” and he's rarely ever sounded so revolted. The pink and purple in his eyes burnt — tears set aflame.

“I'm sorry,” she bit onto her lower lip.

He was panting heavily above her, shock coloring his features. Whenever he stared at the wound in her abdomen, he wanted to vomit.

“Please, Sea Goddess, please do something,” he prayed in an ancient language. “I'll do anything, so please.”

The princess couldn't do anything, except for watching her lover cry pearls. It hurt, the pain in her chest surpassing the one in stomach.

The storm hadn't stopped; it got worse, rain pouring down heavily over Rafayel's back as he guarded her from the rainfall. So strong it could've wiped away the tattoos on his skin, was he not a child of the Sea. Thunder shook the ground. She pressed her fingers against his cheeks as her head throbbed.

It didn't stop. Nothing had stopped; her bleeding, the rain, the pain in his throat and chest. It hurt and he wanted to turn back the time, back when he had decided to meet her again, so he could have avoided this tragedy. But he couldn't, not now, and not ever.

The tip of his nose touched hers as he leaned in closer. The gesture sank slowly in the princess's tired mind. She turned her head to the side fast enough to avoid his lips.

“What’re you doing?” she heaved.

She didn't even dare look him in the eyes, gulping as she spoke. Rafayel didn't move away, tapping her cheek lightly.

“I told you, didn't I? If I choose to love you once, I love you forever. And I'd rather die now, than by sorrow in a few weeks.”

“Rafayel, what are you saying?” Oh, Gods, she wished so badly she could cry, but it hurt so much.

“Sirens love once, my dear. Once for life.”

“Dying by sorrow,” she gasped. “What do you mean?”

“I won't make it past the second week after you pass away.”

It was weak, but she mustered the strength to hit his shoulder. Her stomach turned with pain, and the cries building up her throat tensed her muscles. A pained cry ripped from her mouth.

“And you dare tell me now!?”

Tensing, she groaned in pain. Clutching tightly onto his shoulder, she squirmed in pain. It hurt. It hurt so much.

“Rafayel, please tell me you're lying.” A sob.

She turned her head towards him again. His eyes only held pain. Another pearl slipped from between his eyelashes and rolled on the sand.

“No,” she cried again. Sinking her nails in his shoulder, she left behind red scars.

Red like the blood on her dress. Red like his love.

Her other hand slid from his cheek to the back of his neck, curling into the strands of hair. Chest burning, body aching, something within her broke, right then and there. No amount of tears and rain could glue it back together. But it hurt Rafayel to watch her, so he kissed away the tears on her cheeks, breathing in her washed out perfume.

“It wasn't your fault to begin with,” he reassured in a soft tone. “I promise.”

“No, no, it is,” she choked on her own words.

Gently, he hushed.

“It won't hurt for much longer. I know.”

The Sea had bonded them together since the first time he had accepted her in his heart. Rafayel kissed her temple with a soft hum in his throat.

“I love you,” she whispered.

His fingers curled in the sand, a pained sound ripping from his throat. At that very moment, his heart beat solely for those words.

“Me too, lovely,” he pulled his lips in a thin line. “I love you too. You have no idea, do you?”

With a gentle touch, he took one of her hands in his and leaned over again. That time, however, she didn't budge. Her gaze was torn between his lips and his red-shot eyes.

“I'm sorry, Rafayel.”

“I'll curse this damned world to the ground,” came back his sour response. “May it burn. May no one ever know piece, may this storm never stop. May they never be happy.”

With a soft shake of her head, she closed her eyes. Her tears blended with the droplets of water running down his hair.

The siren hadn't stopped. He held her as close as he could, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“May the Sea never grant anyone mercy again, never again, my love. For as long as there's a drop of water in this world, they will know pain greater than their bodies can contain, greater than their hearts can handle. May the world never forget the pain, may it be branded in their very beings. May it haunt them and their graves.”

Raising his head once again, he smiled sadly.

“May each one of them hurt the same way we are hurting right now and a thousand times more.”

Against better judgment, she understood. At that time, she understood what it meant to lose something greater than you can handle. She was not only losing him and her own very life, but the hope she had. All of it, dead, burnt. The hope of a better future was withering. (And it shall wither forever.)

“May they hurt,” she continued in a soft voice. “For I have loved you.”

“And I'll love you even in the times to come.”

When their lips touched, the world had stopped spinning for a moment. A gentle touch, soft like a feather, tears mixing together, love pouring down in waves. It didn't soothe away the pain; no, it ached and throbbed, but their heart still beat for one more time.

One more time before his body began to twist and turn into seafoam, one more time before her eyes would never open up again.

One last breath, shared with a sour smile. Foam sank in the material of her dress, but the Sea refused to let that corpse be seen by the humans, even if it was theirs to witness. With a powerful wave, She took her body away into the depths of the water.

No amount of redemption could ever cure this mistake.

For once, the Sea listened to Rafayel's prayers. She listened and granted his venomous wish. She understood his grief and deemed the curse as worthy to take care of — a curse that shall haunt everything and everyone.

And the world has destroyed a chance for peace once again. They have unknowingly killed it, amongst the tears of a hopeful human and the bubbles of a siren's corpse. They have lost their chance for peace in between the lips of two lovers.

And the lovers? Despite being filled with worries, their ghosts shall dance on the surface of the sea ‘till the world will meet its doom and a little more.

A/N: I don't know if there things I should've changed or added, but after crying for half an hour I decided to post it just like that. I don't have any more energy to add filler scenes, like the one when she decides to throw herself in the water. Instead, I tried to add the information in their conversation, so it would still make sense.

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idkyetxoxo · 17 days ago

Text

Two | The Unravelling | Shadow and Flame

Pairing - Azriel x reader

Word count - 4.6k

Warnings - Misogyny, objectification, angst

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Three weeks had passed since that night after Rita's. Three weeks since everything changed.

I paced the confines of my room, worn grooves into the floorboards, nails digging crescent moons into my palms with every lap.

The nausea had become a cruel companion, arriving like clockwork with every sunrise and haunting me into the night. Every morsel of food rebelled against me. My limbs ached, my body betrayed me, fragile as frost underfoot.

And still worse than all of it was the scent. Azriel's scent.

It clung to me like a ghost, stubborn and damning. No matter how long I soaked in scalding baths, how raw I scrubbed my skin, it lingered.

Shadows and cedarwood. The scent of a secret that should have never existed. A secret that had become... something more.

And I had glamoured it, mother above, I had tried. Poorly, desperately but even the magic was beginning to fray at the edges, like it too, knew what I dared not speak aloud.

I wasn't pregnant. I couldn't be pregnant.

Fae pregnancies were rare—miracles, even. Some waited centuries for the chance. And yet... here I was, sick to my stomach, haunted by a scent that refused to fade and slowly unravelling under the weight of possibility.

Still. I couldn't let myself believe it. Not until I knew for certain.

With trembling fingers, I wrapped myself in my thickest coat and slipped into the corridor, moving like a ghost through the halls.

I had mastered escaping. The guards didn't notice. I made sure they didn't.

The wind outside cut through me like blades, but I welcomed the sting. It made the world feel real again, if only for a moment.

The path to the old oak, past all the wards that would announce my misfortune was silent, every crack of a branch or whisper of a breeze sent my nerves lurching.

When I finally reached the tree, I hesitated, staring up at its gnarled form.

"Is it even safe to winnow like this?" I muttered, voice barely a breath.

The doubt, the fear, curled deep in my gut but I shoved it down. I wasn't pregnant. I wasn't.

So, I winnowed.

The world blinked, and when it settled again, I stood at the edge of a forgotten corner of Autumn. It was colder here, quieter. The shadows pressed closer. I wrapped my arms around myself and stepped toward the weather-worn cottage.

Criva would know.

I didn't wait to knock properly, just pushed the door open with a creak that sliced through the silence. The scent of herbs, smoke, and something ancient hit me like a wave.

"Criva," I called softly, stepping inside.

The elder fae was already there, seated in her usual chair among shelves crowded with tinctures and glowing jars. Her hair shimmered silver in the low light, her eyes, eclipsed suns, tracked me the moment I entered.

"Princess of Autumn," she greeted, her voice like cracking leaves. She smiled. That knowing, spine-prickling smile. "What brings you to my cottage today?"

My throat tightened. The words stuck inside me like thorns.

"There's something wrong with me," I finally managed, sitting opposite her. My legs felt barely strong enough to hold me up.

She tilted her head, eyes flicking over me with the practised precision of someone who had seen too much. Criva had after all tended my bruises and burns more times than I could count. She knew what damage looked like.

But this was different.

"I—I feel like—" My voice cracked under the weight of everything I couldn't say. The fear. The shame.

She reached for my hands. Her skin was cool, tinged faintly blue. Her magic pulsed through me and I closed my eyes, willing the truth to be anything but what I feared.

When I opened them, she was smiling again. A soft, devastating thing.

"You are pregnant."

The world split at the seams.

I ripped my hands from hers, stumbling to my feet. The word echoed, crashing against my ribs like a battering ram.

Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant.

My breathing quickened, chest rising and falling too fast. I backed away from her, the room spinning like a storm around me.

"No," I whispered, voice breaking. "No—no, that's not—I can't—"

Azriel. The name pierced through the fog. Forbidden. Unspoken. Untouchable.

And now... now I carried his child.

I don't know if it was the fear, or the sudden, suffocating weight of it all but my knees buckled. Criva was already moving toward me, but I held up a hand, shaking.

"I can't—he can't know," I said, the words ripping out of me, breathless and raw. My chest tightened with panic, a clawing, suffocating thing that curled around my ribs and squeezed. "No one can know."

Criva nodded once, solemn and calm, as if she were familiar with this brand of desperation. "I will not tell," she promised, her voice a whisper of earth and time.

I believed her. I trusted her. But fate, it seemed, had not finished with me yet.

A violent wave of nausea surged up my throat. I barely had time to turn away before I gagged, doubled over, and vomited the remnants of the bland toast I had forced down that morning. It splattered across the stone floor of her cottage, shame blooming hot under my skin.

Criva was already behind me, her long fingers threading gently through my hair, murmuring things I couldn't hear over the sound of my own ragged gasps.

My hands clutched my stomach, pain pulsing outward from my core as if my body mourned what my heart couldn't yet accept.

"My father will kill me," I whispered, voice hollow, lips trembling. I sank further into the floor, my back against the cool stone wall, my legs drawn to my chest like they could shield me from the truth. I stared at the silver-haired fae beside me, eyes wild.

"He'll kill me for shaming the family. For this."

Criva didn't speak for a long moment. She only watched me, her burnt-orange eyes full of something that looked too much like pity. It made me want to scream.

"The father... he's not even—" My voice cracked. I couldn't say it. Couldn't say his name, not here. Not when the mere thought of Azriel made my heart stutter and ache in the same breath.

"It doesn't matter," I muttered, burying my face in my knees.

Criva stood without a word, her long robe whispering against the floor, and returned with a small bottle filled with green-tinged liquid. She thrust it into my hands carefully.

"Drink this. It won't stop the pain, not really," she said gently. "But it will quiet the screaming for a while."

I uncorked the vial and sipped. Mint and something faintly sweet coated my tongue.

I exhaled, eyes fluttering closed as a dull warmth spread through my chest—not relief, not quite but silence. A moment of quiet inside the storm.

She knelt again, wiping the tears from my cheeks like I was still a child.

"I can give you something stronger to mask the scent. And beyond that..." she hesitated, "...there's not much more I can do."

But it was enough. Even if just barely.

"Thank you," I whispered.

If this truth reached the wrong ears, if word got out that the daughter of the Autumn Court carried a child, not by a proper male of status, but by a bastard Illyrian, a Night Court male—my father would ruin me. He would ruin everything.

My future, my reputation, my body if he deemed it necessary. I was a pawn to him. Nothing more.

I hadn't even dared look Eris in the eyes these past days, always disappearing before he could find me. I told myself I was busy, I told myself he wouldn't care but deep down I feared he might see something. Might know.

When Criva finally helped me up, she handed me a small satchel of what she promised. Her cold fingers lingered on mine.

"Do not use your powers unless absolutely necessary," she warned. "But winnowing should be safe—for now."

Safe. What a laughable word.

Criva didn't know what this child might be. No one did.

Not with our bloodlines, Autumn and Illyrian, so violently opposed. But she promised she'd search for answers discreetly, and I trusted her with that sliver of hope.

I winnowed back.

The panic was dulled now, wrapped in the quiet magic of Criva's draught, but it hadn't vanished. It sat just beneath the surface, coiled and waiting, ready to spring again the moment I let my guard drop.

I walked the palace halls with familiar stealth, the heavy silence of the manor pressing in around me. Just a few more steps to my room. Just a few—

"Daughter."

I froze. My breath locked in my throat as I turned, slow and stiff, my heart hammering against my ribs. Three times I checked the glamour with a flicker of my power, ensuring the scent was masked, that nothing showed.

"Father," I managed, my voice a rasp.

High Lord Beron of the Autumn Court stood in the corridor like a predator in the sun. His red hair glinted like flame, his eyes hard and sharp with suspicion. My blood turned to ice.

"Care to explain," he said, voice dangerously smooth, "why I've had to send three guards scouring the estate for you? Only to find you skulking around like some thief?"

My mouth opened and closed. "I—I was just—"

"Spare me the stammering." His lip curled. "You were sneaking off again. You think I don't notice? That I don't know when you vanish for hours without reason?"

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. "I didn't mean to worry anyone. I just... needed air."

He scoffed. "You are a daughter of Autumn. Not some free-spirited waif. You don't get the luxury of 'air'."

I said nothing. Silence was safer. Silence was survival.

"Go find Eris," he snapped. "You and he will be joining Lord Devlon in the Steppes. Consider it a chance to prove your loyalty to the Court."

The Steppes. The Illyrian war-camps. My stomach twisted.

"Why?" I asked before I could stop myself. "I mean... is there a reason?"

He narrowed his eyes to slits. "Do you not handle all Night Court diplomacy with Eris?" he asked, voice like a blade.

"Of course," I breathed. "You're right. I'll—go now."

But inside, I was fracturing. Splintering. If I could barely hold myself together now, how would I survive the coming days?

"Took you long enough," Eris drawled, flipping a slender blade between his fingers with the idle grace of someone who knew how to make even laziness look dangerous.

I approached with a smirk, the same teasing expression I had worn a thousand times in our shared defiance.

Of all my brothers, Eris and I were the closest.

The youngest and the oldest, both carved hollow beneath the weight of our father's suffocating expectations. Both hardened by his cruelty. Both adept at hiding the cracks.

"Clingy much?" I tossed back lightly, though the words tasted like ash on my tongue.

The nausea was quieter now, lulled into a sleepy haze thanks to a double dose of Criva's minty-green tonic and the syrup, the smoky grey, thick syrup that helped glamour and dull Azriel's scent to almost nothing.

I hadn't dared look at my stomach. As if even a glance would summon a revelation I wasn't ready for.

"Let's get a move on," Eris said, looping his arm through mine as he prepared to winnow. "Devlon's even more sour than usual. I'd like to survive the encounter without frostbite."

"Aren't all Illyrians?" I replied dryly, arching a brow.

He laughed, sharp and warm. In that moment, I clung to it like it was a lifeline.

The world snapped back into focus with a rush of cold air and distant shouts as we arrived at the camp's edge. The wind off the mountains bit through the heavy fabric of my coat, and the sharp scent of sweat, leather, and steel filled my nostrils.

I had never been to the camps before.

The last time Eris was summoned here, I'd still been healing from a broken arm, my father's punishment for accidentally brushing against one of his personal guards.

An infraction, in his eyes, that demanded shattered bones.

"What are we negotiating?" I asked, walking beside Eris as he cut a confident path between the tents and sparring rings.

"Father wants us to convince Devlon to lend us some of his elite to train our soldiers," Eris replied, his tone tight with distaste. "He wants our ranks drilled the Illyrian way."

"Great," I muttered. "Let's give that sadistic asshole more power and prestige. What could possibly go wrong?"

Eris nudged me with a grin, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

A low voice cut through the air.

"Eris."

We turned simultaneously.

Devlon stood a few feet away, tall and broad-shouldered, with the kind of posture that said he thought the sun rose for his benefit alone. His dark eyes landed on me and stayed there.

He looked at me like I was something clinging to the bottom of his boot.

"You brought your sister," he said, as if Eris had dragged in a filthy stray dog.

"Yes. Is that a problem?" Eris asked, his tone deceptively pleasant.

Devlon's lip curled. "I don't see the point in her presence. These are negotiations for males, not a social call."

My fists clenched at my sides but I forced my voice to stay light. "Don't worry. I won't disrupt your important male conversations."

Eris's jaw ticked, but he said nothing.

"I'll walk the camp," I offered before the situation could sour any further. "Make myself scarce."

It physically pained me to say it. To dismiss myself like that. To shrink beneath Devlon's scrutiny and offer nothing in return.

But I couldn't afford to provoke him. We couldn't afford to fail. Our father would skin us for less.

Eris turned looking at me sharply. "On your own?"

The concern in his voice was genuine, and it tugged something fierce in my chest. The Illyrians didn't have the cleanest reputations when it came to females. And I knew I wasn't exactly in prime condition.

"Are you implying my warriors are unsafe?" Devlon asked, stepping forward. His voice had dropped to a snarl.

Of course. Just what we needed. An Illyrian pride tantrum.

"No, he's not," I said quickly, stepping between them. "I'm sure I will be perfectly fine. After all, my brother is only a few feet away should I need him."

I cast Eris a look, half gratitude, half reassurance. He gave me a reluctant nod but didn't push any further, though I could see the tension in his shoulders as he turned back toward Devlon.

The commander didn't even wait for my words to finish. He stalked off, expecting Eris to follow.

And so he did.

I watched them go, the camp stretching before me like a battlefield I hadn't trained for. The air here was thinner, sharper. Each breath stung a little. Voices rose and fell across the grounds, gruff laughter, barked orders, the clash of steel-on-steel in the sparring rings.

And I was alone.

Exactly how I needed to be. Exactly how I shouldn't be.

I turned, pulling my coat tighter around my frame as the world spun just slightly beneath my feet.

I walked slowly, letting my boots crunch over frostbitten earth, careful not to draw too much attention.

Illyrians were everywhere, training, bickering, bloodied and bruised and proud of it. Every inch of this place reeked of power born from pain.

This was their world. His world.

The one I had never been meant to touch, let alone carry within me.

I paused beside a crag of rock that jutted near the edge of one of the sparring rings, the training sounds louder here, metal clashing, grunts and roars of impact, barked instructions in a guttural tongue.

I couldn't say what pulled me toward the sound, what instinct begged me to keep moving rather than turn back.

And then I saw him. Azriel.

For a moment, my breath caught, lodged like a blade in my throat. He wasn't supposed to be here. He shouldn't have been here.

But there he was, sleeves rolled, siphons dimmed, fighting with the kind of focused rage that made the ground tremble.

He moved like smoke and shadow, silent, deadly, beautiful in a way that made my skin tighten.

Three warriors were circling him. He wore no armour, only a sleeveless black tunic soaked through with sweat, and his wings were tucked in tight, tense with restraint.

One soldier lunged and Azriel pivoted, catching the blade with a dagger I hadn't even seen him draw. Another came at him from behind and he spun, elbow slamming into the male's face with a sickening crack.

They weren't sparring. They were testing him. Or perhaps he was testing himself. And he was holding back, barely. Barely.

I had never seen him like this.

Not when he was with me, cloaked in silence and mystery.

This Azriel was rage honed into discipline. Violence wrapped in elegance. And still... still, something about the way his jaw clenched when the soldier landed a near hit, how his shoulders shook with more than just exhaustion, told me this wasn't just about training.

It was release. Punishment. Penance.

I watched him disarm the last male, knock him flat with a brutal efficiency that sent a ripple of silence across the nearby warriors.

Azriel stood over him for a moment, chest heaving, eyes distant. Then he stepped back, hands on his knees. His wings trembled slightly.

He looked... tired. Worn. Not just from the fight, but from something deeper, something heavier.

And that—that was when it hit me.

The baby growing inside me. His baby. Half Illyrian. Half me.

What kind of life would it have? Raised between two courts that hated each other, a child born of secrecy and shame.

Would it be strong like him, fast like him? Would it carry his shadows? His scars?

Would it be hunted? Would my father try to kill it before it took its first breath? Would Azriel?

My knees nearly gave out as the weight of it all pressed down on me. I curled my arms around my stomach before I could stop myself, a silent gesture that made me want to scream.

Fate was cruel.

Of all days. Of all moments. He was here, in the flesh, in his element, unfiltered, raw. And I wasn't ready for what that truth did to me.

I barely registered the shove until my balance gave out beneath me.

My boots slipped on the gravel-packed path, and I pitched forward but before I could hit the ground, rough hands caught me.

A warrior stood there, taller than most, his grip bruising as he pulled me upright. The smirk he wore was anything but kind.

His eyes dragged over me, slow and assessing, and something about the way he looked at me, like I was meat in the training yard sent a ripple of nausea rolling through me.

"Watch where you're going," I muttered, ripping my arm free.

"Watch where you're standing," he snapped back, his voice low and mean.

I rolled my eyes, more exhausted than angry. I didn't have the energy for whatever pissing match he wanted.

The weight in my stomach, the ache in my limbs, the pounding in my head, I could barely hold myself together, let alone deal with an asshole with something to prove.

"Dumb brute," I muttered under my breath.

But he heard.

"What did you just say?" he growled, loud enough to draw eyes from nearby warriors. Heads turned. Conversations paused. And of course he heard, too.

Azriel.

I didn't even have to look to feel him there, the air warping slightly with the arrival of his shadows. But I did glance, just once and found his eyes already locked on mine.

His expression was unreadable, but I saw the flicker. Recognition. Surprise. And then something darker. Fury. Not just at the scene unfolding, but at me. And I couldn't blame him.

The last words I'd said to him had been sharp enough to draw blood. A necessary cruelty. Or so I'd told myself.

"I called you a dumb brute," I said evenly, dragging my gaze away from Azriel and fixing it on the male before me.

"Thought I'd misheard," the warrior replied, stepping in closer, his breath hot and reeking of arrogance. "Always you bitchy High Fae thinking you're above the rest of us."

I crossed my arms. "Bitchy High Fae? How original."

He sneered, stepping even closer, his voice low and venomous. "How about good-for-nothing whore instead? That's what you Autumn Court females are, right? Just warm bodies for breeding and burning."

There it was. He knew who I was. Knew who my mother was reduced to. And he'd gone straight for the wound.

I didn't flinch. Not one bit.

"You must be very proud," I said sweetly, "to think of nothing more clever than misogyny. I suppose your father gave birth to you, then, if females are so useless?"

The crowd tensed.

His face twisted with rage. "You should watch your mouth," he spat, grabbing my arm hard enough to bruise. He leaned in, voice dropping to a threat. "Maybe I'll show you how we Illyrians teach our females obedience. Maybe you need to be—"

Shadows exploded into the space between us, curling like smoke from a snuffed flame.

"Hands. Off. Ruben." The voice was quiet, but it cut like steel.

Azriel stood just behind me, shadows pooling at his boots, his siphons a dull blue glow. His expression hadn't changed, but his eyes... his eyes were lethal.

Ruben's grip slackened. He backed up slowly, but not before muttering, "You'd protect her? Didn't think you had a soft spot for pretty little court sluts."

Azriel didn't blink. "Say another word."

That was all. Just that.

And Ruben went still. Because he knew what would happen if he did. Knew that the only thing holding Azriel back was a thread and that it was fraying fast.

With a final sneer, Ruben turned and stalked off, shoving past a few warriors who quickly pretended not to see. The others were already turning away, trying to seem uninvolved, like they hadn't heard what was said, hadn't watched it all unfold like some sort of spectacle.

The silence that followed was somehow louder than the shouting.

I stood frozen. The pain in my arm where Ruben had grabbed me pulsed in time with my heartbeat.

I didn't know what to say. What I could say. Azriel hadn't moved. His presence still loomed, still heavy with barely-contained violence.

I looked up at him. His jaw was tight. Shadows swirled restlessly around him, as if even they couldn't decide whether to flee or strike.

Our eyes met again. He opened his mouth, his lips parted like he was going to speak.

But I couldn't do it.

I couldn't hear whatever he was going to say, some sharp-edged demand or worse, a gentle thing that might splinter me open for good.

So I turned. And walked away. The shadows didn't follow. Neither did he.

But I felt him watching me with every step I took and it hurt more than if he'd reached in and ripped the truth from my chest.

Eris had said he needed at least two more hours before we could leave.

I didn't tell him what had happened with Ruben. There was no point. If I did, he'd turn around, drag us both back to Autumn, and shoulder the blame in my place.

That was who Eris was when it came to me, a quiet protector forged in fire and obligation. But I couldn't let him do that. Couldn't let him take another blow meant for me.

So I stayed.

The camp stretched in the distance, harsh and cold and unforgiving, a place that reeked of sweat, steel and old blood.

I needed somewhere—anywhere to be still, to not think, to just breathe.

Devlon, in a rare show of fake politeness, had directed me to Rhysand's mother's old house. I knew why, he wanted me out of sight. Likely already regretting the behaviour of one of his warriors, he was eager to see me gone, erased, tucked neatly into a corner until I was someone else's problem again.

Fine. I preferred being forgotten.

The house was simple, quiet, weathered by decades of wind and wear. I stepped into the small kitchen, the scent of old wood and colder days wrapping around me.

My body ached, not just from the baby growing inside me but from the endless coil of secrets pressing down on every breath I took.

I moved with mechanical grace through the cupboards.

A bruise-spotted apple sat in a woven basket like some kind of offering. I bit into it without a second thought, the taste tart, mealy, but satisfying. My hands shook slightly as I ate, but I forced the bites down.

I had to eat. For the child. For myself. For the fragile illusion of control I still clung to.

The door creaked open. I didn't need to look to know who it was.

His shadows found me before he did, swirling around my legs, brushing up my arms like they missed me. I wanted to scream at them.

"I didn't know you were going to be here today," Azriel's voice broke through the silence, rough-edged but quiet.

He leaned against the counter opposite me, arms crossed in the way that always made him look far too casual and far too dangerous all at once.

"Neither did I," I replied flatly, licking the last bit of juice from my thumb as I tossed the core into a cracked bowl on the table.

He blinked. No teasing tone. No fire. No claws. Just... calm. Distant. That wasn't me. Not with him.

"Fueling up for anything in particular?" he asked, trying for a grin as he stepped around the counter and crossed the space between us. His hand found my waist with too much ease, fingers curling around my backside, familiar and intimate.

He'd touched me like that a hundred times before.

But this wasn't before.

"Eris is going to be here soon," I said quickly, shifting out of his grasp.

He didn't drop his hand right away. "Soon," he echoed, "means we have time."

His mouth brushed the side of my neck, lips pressing a memory into my skin. My chest seized so sharply it hurt. I inhaled—too fast, too shallow.

"Azriel. Stop."

He pulled back like I'd slapped him.

"I just—" I turned my face away. The walls were too thin, the air too thick, and he was too much. "I'm tired. I'm not in the mood for anything right now."

There was silence. He didn't hide his frown this time.

We'd never denied each other before. Never had to. We burned at the same frequency, always had, two souls tangled in secrecy and wanting.

For years, we'd only ever needed the barest touch, the smallest look. I had wanted him more than I had ever wanted anything.

And he had wanted me.

So now, this—this was not nothing to him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice soft, but no less intense. "You're acting... different."

I hated the way he said it. Like he was choosing his words carefully. Like I was a blade he didn't know how to hold without bleeding.

"No." I crossed my arms over my chest. "I just don't want to have sex right now. Why is that so hard to believe?"

The sharpness in my voice cut deeper than I intended. But it had to.

I had to draw a line. Had to protect him from the truth before it consumed us both. If I softened for even a second, I might say something I couldn't take back.

Something about the child between us—half Autumn, half Illyrian, a storm waiting to be born.

Azriel's jaw ticked but he stepped back, just slightly, the way someone steps away from a ledge.

I didn't look at him again. I couldn't.

Because the ache in his eyes, the confusion, the frustration, the concern, it was worse than a scream.

And if he touched me again, if he asked me again, I didn't know if I could keep the truth down.

So I stared at the wall behind him and waited for the clock to tick down, for Eris to return, for anything that would let me escape the trembling fault line I'd built between us.

And Azriel... said nothing.

His shadows didn't move. They stayed curled around my ankles like they refused to leave—even when he did.

A/n - I genuinely don't think I've ever written this many words for one part but there was just so much that needed to happen here, and it couldn't be split up. So sorry if it's a long one!

We jump right in with the pregnancy reveal, and I intentionally had reader head straight to an Illyrian camp to show how brutal and dismissive many of them are (not Azriel, obvs). It's a rough environment, especially for a woman, and especially now.

This also marks the beginning of reader pulling away from Az, denying him sex which she's never done before (real 🫦), being cold, not in a teasing way but in a way that genuinely hurts and confuses him. And that's the point, he doesn't get it, not yet at least...

Don't come down too hard, though. She's just scared, stressed... pregnant :(

Anyways, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it <33

Shadow and Flame tag list - @coffeebooksrain18 @jaybbygrl @slut4acotar @justtryingtosurvive02 @mortqlprojections @sheblogs @moonlitlavenders @windblownwinston @queenoffeysand @tothestarsandwhateverend @saamanthaag3 @metaphysicaldoom @natalijassav @bookishbishhh @yourenothingbutnottome

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