#but I haven’t been through one in a while

[orangeblossomsintheair]

HONEY YOU’RE FAMILIAR | MV33

summary : For a second, he thinks about turning around. Walking out. Pretending he never saw you, because what’s the point? It’s not like he can just waltz up to you and say, “Hey, sorry I ghosted you for no reason other than I’m emotionally constipated. Want to get a drink?”

wc : 5k

an : writing this to distract myself from my other wips? ..i would never.. 😦 also i wrote this at 12 am so let this not be a place of judgement :))

Max sometimes forgets how small Monaco is.

It’s easy to do when most of his memories of the place are a blur of fast cars and glittering parties. He spends most of his time racing through the streets during the Grand Prix or holed up in a hotel room overlooking the harbor.

When you’re constantly traveling the world, hopping between paddocks and podiums, the compactness of Monaco barely registers. It’s a speck on the map, a gilded bubble he never really bothers to think about until it’s right in his face.

But sometimes, like tonight, he’s reminded.

Monaco isn’t a city, not really.

It’s a playground. A handful of streets strung together like a necklace, choked with Lamborghinis, Rolls-Royces, and yachts so big they could be small countries. It’s a place where everyone knows everyone.

Or, at the very least, they know of everyone.

The millionaires gossip about the billionaires. The bartenders know who tips in cash and who never tips at all. Even the stray cats probably have dirt on the local royals.

It’s not just small in size. It’s tight.

Wealth wraps around this place like a noose, strangling it into exclusivity.

There are no dark corners to disappear into, no sprawling suburbs to lose yourself in.

Just a few restaurants, a few clubs, and a few streets where the same people circle each other like they’re on a carousel. If you’re here long enough, you’ll eventually run into everyone you’ve ever met.

Even the ones you’ve been trying to avoid.

Max doesn’t think about that when he walks into the bar.

He’s not in the mood for deep reflection or existential dread. He’s here because Daniel said he needed a drink, and when Daniel Ricciardo says you need a drink, you listen.

That’s how Max ends up at some overpriced lounge that smells like vodka and ambition, standing under soft, warm lighting that’s trying too hard to make the place feel classy instead of claustrophobic.

He’s nursing a beer, half-listening to Daniel tell some convoluted story about a failed date and a stolen Vespa, when he hears it.

A voice.

Your voice.

It’s the kind of thing that cuts through the noise without him even realizing why. It’s not loud or particularly distinct; it’s not like you’re screaming or making a scene. But it’s you. The way you talk, your cadence, the rise and fall of your words. It’s all so achingly familiar that it grabs him by the throat and yanks.

Max freezes. His drink doesn’t make it to his lips.

The years fall away in a blink, and suddenly, it’s like no time has passed.

He’s twenty-two again, still figuring out how to smile for cameras, while you’re draped over the back of his couch, talking absolute nonsense about whether or not the cars in Cars have insurance or not.

He doesn’t even realize he’s turned to look until he spots you.

You’re standing at the bar, laughing as you say something to the bartender. It’s loud, and Max can’t hear you properly, but he can feel you.

The way you lean casually on the counter, the tilt of your head, the way you wave your hand to punctuate whatever you’re saying. It’s so painfully, annoyingly you.

And God, you look good.

For a second, all he can do is stare. You haven’t seen him yet, thank God, because Max Verstappen does not know what the hell to do with himself right now.

You look different.

Not in a drastic way, just… grown.

Your edges are sharper, your presence more refined, like a photo that’s come into focus after years of being a little blurry. But the core of you is still the same. It’s in the way you throw your head back when you laugh, like the world isn’t slowly crumbling under the weight of climate change, billionaires, and whatever Kardashian family drama is brewing this week.

And suddenly, Max is thrown back years.

To a time when you were his person. The one he called when things went sideways, or when he won, or when he was just bored and needed someone to hear him rant about understeer.

You were his best friend.

No. The friend. The one. The only one who ever really got him. And then…Well, then he was an asshole.

He tries to tell himself that you two drifted apart.

People do that, right? It’s life. Except that’s a lie, and Max knows it. You didn’t drift; you held on like a freaking tow hook. You tried—texted him, called him, showed up to races, tried to remind him there was a world outside of 300 km/h and tire degradation.

Max doesn’t know what to do with this. With you. He’s not used to seeing ghosts in real life, and you might as well be one now.

Max debates his next move. He could just… not. Pretend he didn’t notice you. Slip out quietly, finish his drink somewhere else, and avoid whatever emotional grenade this is about to be. That would be the smart thing. The logical thing.

But Max has never been great at logic.

For a second, he thinks about turning around. Walking out. Pretending he never saw you, because what’s the point? It’s not like he can just waltz up to you and say, “Hey, sorry I ghosted you for no reason other than I’m emotionally constipated. Want to get a drink?”

But then you glance over your shoulder.

And your eyes lock.

He doesn’t have time to decide whether to stay or bolt

You see him.

And Max realizes he’s fucked.

For a split second, he thinks you might look away, maybe pretend you didn’t see him either.

He’s not sure if he’s hoping for that or dreading it. But then your face lights up, and the look you give him isn’t what he expects.

It’s warm. Familiar. Like you’re genuinely happy to see him.

His chest tightens. Max isn’t sure what he thought he’d see. Resentment, awkwardness, indifference, maybe.

But this? This disarms him completely.

You wave, and before he knows it, his feet are moving.

“Maxy,” you say as he approaches, your voice carrying that teasing lilt that could only ever be you. It knocks the breath out of him, so familiar and effortless it almost hurts. “Long time no see.”

Max freezes for the briefest of moments, the nickname hitting him like a slap and a hug all at once. Maxy. No one’s called him that in years. Not his family. Not his team. Not anyone.

No one except you.

“Yeah, uh, long time,” he manages, scratching the back of his neck in a gesture so awkwardly familiar it almost makes you laugh. He looks like he’s 17 again, shy and unsure.

Before either of you can say more, Daniel sidles up next to him, a beer in hand and an amused eyebrow raised as he glances between the two of you. “Know her?” Daniel asks, his voice dripping with curiosity.

“He does,” you reply smoothly before Max can fumble an answer. Your smirk is playful, but there’s no bite to it, just that same easy warmth Max hasn’t felt in what feels like forever. “I used to keep this one in line. Back when he was all awkward interviews and tragic haircuts.”

Daniel barks out a laugh, glancing at Max’s meticulously styled hair. “Tragic haircuts? Wait, this-” he gestures wildly at Max’s head, like it’s some architectural masterpiece “-is the improved version?”

You’re already laughing, and it’s the kind of laugh Max hasn’t heard in years.

He groans, dragging a hand over his face, though the corners of his mouth are betraying him with a faint smile. “Don’t encourage her,” he mutters to Daniel, but his tone is far too soft to have any weight.

It’s stupid how easy this feels. How natural. Max isn’t used to easy anymore.

Daniel, bless him, is soaking it all in.

“So?” he says, giving Max a teasing nudge. “Aren’t you going to introduce me, or do I have to guess?”

“I was getting there,” Max grumbles, shooting him a half-hearted glare before looking at you. For a moment, he falters. He doesn’t know what to call you. Acquaintance feels too cold. Stranger would be a lie. And friend? That feels like stepping too far into a past he’s not sure he’s ready to face.

“An old friend,” you offer, saving him effortlessly, like you always did. “And you must be the famous Daniel Ricciardo.”

Daniel grins, full of boyish charm. “Guilty as charged,” he says, tipping his beer in a mock toast. “And let me just say, I already like you. Great taste in insults.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Ricciardo,” you say, though your smirk says otherwise.

The three of you fall into an almost absurdly natural rhythm, as though you’ve all been doing this for years. Daniel’s effortless charisma bounces off your sharp wit, and Max finds himself smiling more in five minutes than he has in weeks.

Maybe months.

It’s like the weight on his shoulders has lifted, just for a moment, and he can breathe again.

You’re mid-story when he realizes he hasn’t felt this light in ages.

“So there I was,” you’re saying to Daniel, gesturing dramatically, “dragging Max out of his hotel room because he was refusing to face the world after a bad race.”

“I wasn’t refusing to face the world,” Max interjects, but there’s no real heat in his voice.

You give him a look that could level a building. “You were lying on the floor eating Haribo like it was your last meal,” you say, deadpan. “It was tragic. Genuinely tragic.”

Daniel’s cackling now, nearly spilling his beer. “Please tell me there are photos of this.”

“Sadly, no,” you reply with mock disappointment. “But the image is burned into my brain forever. It was that bad.”

Max groans, shaking his head, though the grin tugging at his lips is impossible to hide. “Why did I ever let you into my life?”

“Because no one else could handle you,” you fire back, and it’s so quick, so natural, it makes his chest ache.

Daniel takes a step back, still laughing. “You two are too much,” he says, pointing at the two of you like you’ve just performed a comedy sketch. “I’ll leave you to it. Don’t get too emotional without me, okay? I’m going to find another beer. Or maybe a Vespa to steal. Who knows?”

You watch him disappear into the crowd, still grinning. For a moment, the two of you are left standing there, and the noise of the party seems to fade just slightly.

“Daniel’s fun,” you say, breaking the silence.

“He is,” Max agrees.

When the music starts bumping up again, the two of you are faced with a whole other problem entirely.

“So, you’ve been busy!” you yell, leaning across the sticky bar top, your voice barely cutting through the bass thumping around you.

“What?” Max shouts back, leaning closer.

“I SAID, YOU’VE BEEN BUSY!”

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

“I KNOW! THAT’S WHY I’M SHOUTING!”

“WHAT?”

You throw your hands up in exasperation, but he just smirks, clearly enjoying this.

So you double down.

“DO YOU WANT ANOTHER DRINK?” you bellow, miming holding a glass.

“WHY ARE YOU YELLING ABOUT DRINKS?” he shouts back, baffled.

“BECAUSE IT’S TOO LOUD IN HERE!”

“WHAT?”

This back-and-forth nonsense goes on for an impressively ridiculous three minutes, the two of you getting progressively louder, until Max finally groans, shaking his head like he’s reached his limit.

He steps closer, leans in like he’s about to shout something else, then just presses a warm, steady hand to the small of your back. “Come on,” he says, not even bothering to raise his voice this time.

“What?” you yell, still committed to the bit.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he starts gently steering you toward the stairs, and you stumble a little, caught off guard by the unexpected physical contact.

“Where are we going?” you shout, craning your neck to look at him as you climb.

“UPSTAIRS!”

“WHY?”

“BECAUSE I VALUE MY HEARING!” he fires back, glaring at you over his shoulder.

“OH, NOW YOU CARE ABOUT YOUR HEARING?” you tease, but he ignores you, his hand still firm and insistent on your back as he guides you upstairs.

The VIP section is quieter, tucked away from the pulsating bass and the sweaty chaos of the main club floor. Max had slipped a word to a bouncer—who nodded in a way that made you roll your eyes—and now you’re here, sinking into the plush leather of a semi-circular booth with a ridiculous view of the dance floor below.

The relative silence hits you like a warm blanket. You blink, adjusting to the sudden absence of aggressive EDM, and turn to Max, who looks much too smug for your liking.

“Smuggled into VIP like I’m some sort of black-market item,” you tease. “Careful, Verstappen. This is how egos start.”

“You’re welcome,” he says dryly.

“For what?” you shoot back. “The privilege of not getting tinnitus at 27?”

“Yes,” he replies smoothly, sliding into a nearby booth like he owns the place. “You’re lucky to know me.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you deadpan. “My life has improved immeasurably since you dragged me up here. I’ll write a thank-you card.”

“Make sure it’s handwritten,” he quips, signaling a waiter for drinks. “And don’t skimp on the stationery.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, rolling your eyes but you’re smiling, and he knows it.

He chuckles, leaning forward slightly. “Hey, if you’re going to criticize, at least admit this is better than shouting at each other over terrible music.”

You glance around the room, all dark wood and dim lighting, where a few scattered people are having hushed conversations or staring down at the dance floor with an air of superiority. “Alright,” you admit, “it’s not terrible. But the crowd up here…”

You nod toward a guy at the next table wearing sunglasses, inside, and sipping champagne like it’s water. “Is this your scene now? Bottle service bros and indoor eyewear enthusiasts?”

Max glances at the guy, smirking. “Not my scene. But I figured you deserved something better than sticky floors and overpriced tequila shots.”

You laugh. “Wow. I feel so special. Nothing says friendship like a quiet room and a drink I can’t pronounce.”

“Admit it,” he says, leaning back again. “You love it.”

“I love judging it,” you correct, grinning. “Big difference.”

Max watches you for a moment, shaking his head with an almost fond expression. “You haven’t changed at all.”

“And you’ve changed too much,” you shoot back, gesturing at his ridiculously put-together outfit. “Look at you, Verstappen. Fancy haircut, custom clothes, actual social skills. Who are you?”

“First of all, the haircut is functional,” he retorts, mock offended. “Aerodynamics.”

“Oh, of course. Wouldn’t want your hair slowing you down at 300 kph,” you say, pretending to be serious.

“It’s a real thing!” he insists, laughing now. “If you knew anything about racing-”

“If I knew anything about racing?” you interrupt, your voice rising in mock outrage. “Excuse me, I was there when you had to Google how to talk to the media without sounding like a robot. You think I don’t know the intricacies of racing, Maxy?”

“Don’t call me Maxy,” he groans, dragging a hand down his face.

“Oh, I’m definitely calling you Maxy,” you say, delighted. “I might even get a custom T-shirt. ‘Maxy’s Biggest Fan.’ I’ll wear it to a race.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “If you do that, I’ll steal your phone and delete every embarrassing photo you’ve ever taken of me.”

“Bold of you to assume I don’t have backups,” you say smugly, sipping your drink.

“Unbelievable,” he mutters, shaking his head, but there’s a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

For a moment, the two of you fall into an easy silence, the noise of the club below fading into the background. You glance at Max, noting the relaxed set of his shoulders, the way he’s fiddling with the label on his beer bottle—a habit he’s had for as long as you can remember.

“So,” you say, breaking the quiet, “what’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve bought since you became all… you know.”

“All what?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“You know,” you say, waving a hand vaguely. “World Champion. Multi-millionaire. Guy who smuggles old friends into VIP sections.”

He chuckles. “Ridiculous? I don’t know… probably the private jet.”

You stare at him, deadpan. “The private jet is the least ridiculous thing about you, Verstappen. Try again.”

“Fine,” he says, thinking for a moment. “I bought a sauna for my house. Didn’t use it for six months.”

You burst out laughing. “A sauna? For what? Post-race existential crises?”

He groans, rubbing his temples. “It was a bad idea, okay? I thought it would be relaxing.”

“Did it come with, like, a tiny man who throws water on the rocks for you?” you ask, grinning.

“No, but now I kind of want one,” he admits, laughing.

“God, you’re the worst,” you say, shaking your head, but your tone is full of affection.

“And you’re jealous,” he fires back.

“Of your unused sauna?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m absolutely consumed with envy.”

The two of you dissolve into laughter and the conversation continues.

Next thing you know it’s 3 am and you and Max are stumbling out of the club, too giggly for both of your sakes.

Daniel had hopped on to another place hours ago so it’s just you and him.

The cool night air hits you like a slap, but instead of sobering up, it just makes you giggle harder.

Max freezes mid-stumble, his head lolling back like he’s auditioning for Les Mis on the world’s worst stage. “Why’s the air so aggressive?” he slurs. “Feels like it’s… pushing me. Rude.”

“Why’s the ground so spinny?” you counter, stumbling sideways into him.

“'Cause you’re bad at walking,” he accuses, latching onto your arm like a barnacle while swaying dramatically.

“You’re bad at walking,” you fire back, immediately tripping over a shadow and nearly eating pavement.

“You can’t even walk straight!” Max protests, laughing as he catches you before you faceplant.

His arm slides around your waist, steadying you in the most unsteady way possible.

“You’re the one spinning,” you argue, slurring every other word. “Maaaybe you should ju- just stay still for once in your life.”

“Oh, because you’re the expert,” he fires back, wheezing as you nearly trip again. “Where- where are you even staying at?”

You squint at him, trying to focus. “Uh… good question.”

Max stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at you with a mix of disbelief and amusement. “What do you mean good question? How do you not know?”

“I don’t rememb- ber,” you admit, cackling as if it’s the funniest thing in the world.

Max groans, dragging a hand down his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re just- what? Homeless now?”

“Homeless for the night,” you correct, wagging a finger at him like that somehow makes it better.

Max laughs so hard he has to pause, doubling over slightly. “How- how do you forget where you’re staying?”

“’S not my fault!” you defend yourself, leaning heavily against him. “The hotel has, like… a name! A boring one! And too many floors!”

Max groans so loudly it echoes off the buildings. “Oh my God. You’re homeless now. You’re a wandering drunk with no home.”

“I'm trying a new lifestyle,” you say, grinning. “Like… nomadic, y’know? Spiritual.”

“Yeah, okay, Buddha, let’s find you a real place to sleep before you start befriending rats,” he mutters, dragging you down the street.

“I like rats,” you say cheerfully. “They’re just misunderstood.”

“You’re misunderstood,” Max shoots back. “Come on. You’re crashing at my hotel. I can’t leave you out here to, like, adopt a possum or something.”

“I don’t wanna!” you whine, digging your heels into the ground.

“Tough!” Max barks, throwing his arm around your shoulders to keep you moving. “You’ll thank me in the morning when you’re not spooning a garbage can.”

You groan dramatically, slumping into him. “Maxxyyy, I’m tired. Can’t I just sleep on a bench or something?”

“Nooo. No benches. Benches are gross. You’ll get, like… pigeons on you.”

“Pigeons are my friends,” you declare solemnly, as if this is a hill you’re prepared to die on.

Max shakes his head, clearly trying to stay serious but failing miserably. “Okay, Dr. Dolittle, you’re not sleeping outside.”

You groan again, dragging your feet even as he starts pulling you along.

“Stop whining,” he slurs, swaying as he tries to walk in a straight line. “It’ll be like- like a sleepover! Like when we were five.”

“Sleepovers at five were better,” you mutter. “Less… you.”

“Excuse me?” Max stops, glaring at you like you’ve mortally offended him. “I’m the best sleepover buddy. I let you steal my Haribo once.”

“You hid the Haribo under your pillow!” you counter, poking him in the chest.

“’Cause you’re a thief!” he says, grinning as he pulls you toward the street corner.

“Am not,” you huff, pouting.

“Are too,” he replies, but his tone is teasing as he hails a cab.

When the cab pulls up, it feels like the world is tilted just enough that the ground might collapse under your feet at any moment. You both tumble into the backseat in a fit of giggles, your laughter echoing off the darkened streets.

It’s the kind of laughter that’s born of a little bit too much alcohol and a whole lot of absurdity. You could’ve sworn you heard a streetlight flicker in disbelief at the sound of your shared joy.

Max flops dramatically against you as if the very act of sitting upright requires more effort than it’s worth.

His head lands squarely on your shoulder, and for a split second, you’re both tangled in the shared warmth of a really questionable decision.

He looks up at you, eyes half-lidded, and grins like a kid who just got away with stealing candy.

“You smell like tequila and poor decisions,” he mutters with a lazy drawl, his words slow but somehow still cutting through the haze of the night.

You’re already shaking your head before you even speak, the words spilling out one over the other. “You smell like someone who wore Axe in high school.”

Max’s eyes widen in mock outrage. “I did not!” He shoots up from your shoulder like you just insulted his very existence, but the motion sends him veering dangerously toward the cab door.

He catches himself at the last second, gripping the seat like it’s a lifeline.

By the time the cab pulls up to Max’s hotel, you're both deep into a discussion about whether Axe body spray could be classified as a biohazard in certain quantities.

It’s a ridiculous debate, fueled by far too much tequila and a complete disregard for logic, but it’s the most fun either of you have had in ages.

Max is practically in tears from laughing, his snort-laugh echoing off the walls of the cab as he tries to argue that Axe is, in fact, a perfectly fine product, just poorly misunderstood by society.

The cab screeches to a halt, and Max stumbles out first, holding the door open for you with the kind of exaggerated flair you’d expect from someone who probably practices his dramatic entrances in front of a mirror.

As he pays the driver, his wallet slips from his hands not once, but twice, and he’s already apologizing profusely, his face flushed from the alcohol and his own clumsiness.

Finally, he gets the wallet sorted, tucks it back in his pocket, and reaches down to drag you out of the cab like you’re a piece of luggage.

You’re both barely standing, teetering back and forth on your feet as if gravity itself is conspiring to make the night even more ridiculous.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Max says, throwing his arm out grandly to gesture toward the hotel lobby like he’s unveiling the Louvre.

The marble floors, polished to a shine, the sleek, understated furniture… none of it compares to the visual assault that is the ugly carpet underfoot.

“Your palace has really ugly carpet,” you mutter, laughing as you trip over the offending fabric, your feet not quite able to keep up with your brain’s idea of where they should go.

Max snorts, his hand steadying you as you almost face-plant into a particularly gaudy potted plant. “You’re banned from the palace,” he retorts, giving you a playful shove.

You recover, and together, you stagger toward the elevator, which, for some reason, feels like an obstacle course in itself.

The elevator doors open with a dramatic ding, and Max promptly starts jabbing the wrong floor button in a series of random, very confident moves.

Each one is a miss, but he keeps at it, as if this were somehow part of the plan.

You lean against the wall, your body shaking with laughter as you struggle to breathe through the giggles.

“This is why they don’t let you operate machinery,” you manage to gasp, watching him fumble with the buttons in disbelief.

Max grumbles under his breath but finally, miraculously, hits the correct floor button. He turns to you with an exaggerated wink. “See? I told you. Genius.”

You raise an eyebrow, patting him on the head condescendingly. “Sure you are, buddy. A true mastermind.”

The elevator ride is a blur of jokes and half-baked insults as you both fight to keep your composure.

Max leans against the wall with a smug look, clearly reveling in his victory over the elevator button.

When the doors finally open, you both stumble out, holding on to each other uselessly.

At the door to his room, Max proceeds to fumble with his key card in a way that can only be described as tragically incompetent.

The key card slips from his fingers twice, and each time, he lets out a string of expletives in a garble of Dutch and English.

“Jesus. You okay there, Einstein?” you tease, leaning casually against the wall and watching him drop the card once more. You can’t help but laugh.

“Shut up,” he mutters, his voice already tinged with frustration. “Technology’s hard.”

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the door swings open, and Max stumbles inside with the grace of a rhino on roller skates.

He turns to face you with a theatrical sigh. “There. I did it. Happy now?”

You’re already halfway to the bed, your shoes flying off in opposite directions, one ending up by the dresser and the other getting lodged under a chair.

With a dramatic thud, you collapse onto the bed, your body sinking into the soft, luxurious comfort like it was the only thing holding you together.

“This bed is softer than my hopes and dreams,” you mumble, your voice muffled by the comforter as you stretch out like a starfish.

Max, predictably, flops down beside you with the subtlety of a sack of bricks, his arms and legs sprawling out in every direction.

“Move over,” he grumbles, his face smooshed into the pillow.

“Nope,” you reply, barely lifting a finger to indicate where his side is. “Your side’s over there,” you say, pointing vaguely toward the edge of the bed, but it’s clear from the way your eyes are barely staying open that you’re not in any shape to play the “bedroom politics” game.

“Too bad,” Max grunts, grabbing your pillow from beneath your head and smushing it over his face. “This is a dictatorship, and I’m the dictator.”

“Goodnight, Haribo hoarder,” you slur, your words trailing off into nothing as sleep drags you under.

The last thing you hear before you fully fade into unconsciousness is Max’s muffled laugh, and you can’t help but smile.

For a brief moment, it feels like nothing’s changed at all.

—-

Max’s eyes snap open, and for a second, everything is blurry.

He blinks a few times, the weight of his eyelids making it feel like he’s wading through molasses.

A dull ache sits in the back of his skull, a reminder of the questionable choices he made the night before.

He groans, dry, scratchy, the kind of noise that only belongs to mornings where you regret both your life decisions and your snack choices.

He’s still in his room. So far, so good.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary... except for that persistent feeling in the air that something is off.

Max stretches, or at least tries to. His arms flail in an uncoordinated spasm, which results in a series of awkward grunts and a pop from his back that sounds like a joint trying to jump ship.

For a second, he considers staying perfectly still, hoping his body will remember how to function like a normal human.

But then—

There’s something warm beside him. Something... alive.

Max freezes, eyes snapping wide open. His breath catches in his throat as he tries to process what’s happening. The warmth next to him isn’t the soft comfort of a pillow.

It’s... a person.

A person in his bed.

What the actual hell?

His brain goes into overdrive, trying to make sense of the situation. His mind races through a thousand thoughts in a second, each one more ridiculous than the last.

Did he... did he end up getting a stranger drunk last night? Did someone break into his room to cuddle with him?

Max’s eyes dart to his left, and it hits him like a freight train.

The person is you.

You, sprawled across the bed, fast asleep, your hair tousled and your face peaceful, completely unaware of his mounting panic.

For a moment, Max just stares, brain failing to catch up.

How did this happen? His head starts swimming. His mouth goes dry. His first thought is that he’s dreaming..except, no.

This is far too real. He’s not that lucky.

“I need to call Daniel..”

[yieldtotemptation]

PAROXYSM ft. Mina

mina x male reader smut

part two of strange currencies

16k words

Go ahead, try and pretend like you’re not obsessed.

Like you’re not bothered that it’s been weeks since you had Mina—felt the heat of her body, the silk of her skin, the sweetness of her breath on your neck.

Since you've seen that ass. Had it in your hands, spread her cheeks with your fingers, stretched her wide with your cock and left Mina in tears, crying out—

"God, I can never go back from this."

And it’s not like you haven’t been searching for opportunities; a party you’d both be invited to, another gala, some event with enough plausible deniability for when you inevitably, ‘accidentally’ bump into her again.

But for some reason, nothing seems to align.

You’ll get word that she’s in Korea, basking in a rare stretch of free time, while you’re in Hong Kong, signing deals and making promises of dubious sincerity.

You’ll be rushing to return, already planning out how you’ll steal another taste of her, another touch; only to find out she’s been whisked away again—to Japan, or Brazil, or any one of the countless countries desperate to host her.

Glimpses is all you ever truly get—paparazzi shots, magazine covers, the odd video that passes through the digital ether.

So, yeah.

You let it rest, go through the motions, try to recreate it in the aggregate. There are plenty of pretty faces, eager bodies in your orbit.

But they're all just that: bodies.

Empty shells of what you had. They don’t laugh like her, they don’t keep you on your toes like she can, they don’t look at you with the same hunger.

(They don’t say your name like Mina did.)

—

“So,” is the first word you hear from Mina. Too much time has passed, and you’ve officially given up on any pretences of nonchalance. Decided to get straight to the point with the right people and just get her number. “I guess I’m not the only one who can’t stop thinking about that night.”

“Uncharted territory and all,” you’re repeating, and there’s a beat of silence on the other line.

A deep breath, and you swear you can hear her smile. “Definitely unique.”

It’s well past midnight and you’re tired and you’re feeling unusually vulnerable, so you're admitting things you'd usually keep under lock and key. “It’s been—you’ve been stuck in my head, Mina.”

“I know the feeling,” she sighs. Just the timbre of her voice and there’s shivers down your spine. “The memory alone is still—”

You finish for her, “Vivid.”

“I was going to say really fucking hot, but yes,” she laughs. “It’s helped me through some lonely nights. Remembering how you felt inside me, everything we did together it’s—God, you have no idea.”

“I’d argue I have the entire idea. For one—the stairs,” you’re supplying, grinning to yourself, leaning back in your chair, remembering the way she clung to you. How tight she was around you, how fucking new she felt as you filled her. “You were so fucking gorgeous. Never felt anything like it.”

“And the shower,” she counters, “you had me pinned against the tiles. Couldn’t move without you fucking me deeper. Just stuck with nowhere to go but further down your cock. No one’s ever done that to me.”

“Don’t forget the kitchen,” you add, “We got pretty creative with the utensils.”

Mina giggles. You didn't know she was capable of sounding so girlish. “I’ll never look at a spatula the same.”

It’s getting dangerous, each memory rekindling the flame of a night that you’d tried to convince yourself couldn’t have been as epic as you remembered. Couldn’t have mattered so much.

And yet here you are now, letting Mina stir up thoughts of her cunt gushing down her thighs, her nipples stiffening between your teeth, her ass choking your cock, the look on her face when she came all over you—and you know she’s wading through the very same set of flashbacks.

“Every time I close my eyes, I’m back in that garden. Your hands are all over me, your mouth everywhere—”

“Your cunt on my tongue—”

“Your fingers in my ass—”

“Your fucking moans, Mina—”

“Wait, I need to—”

Mina stops you, and you find yourself releasing a breath you didn't even know you were holding. You think you can hear her; hear the shutting of a door, a lock turning, frantic pacing, the squeak of a bed.

Your eyes close and you're picturing it now—Mina, laid back on pure white sheets, sprawled out like a Goddess. It's all there, crystal clear. Fingers dancing over her collarbones, tracing the delicate line of her neck down to the swell of her breasts.

Teasing herself, running her thumbs over her areola, the skin there a shade darker, a touch more sensitive. Pinching and pulling, peaks hardening into tight buds, missing the roughness of your tongue.

And then going lower, down over her ridged abs and between her toned thighs. Spreading her legs out in an invitation, toes curling into the mattress. Finding herself slick with need, so, so soaked. Dipping down to trace over her folds before sliding right into the wet heat.

Mina gasps. It's not your imagination. She moans into the phone.

You can almost taste her again.

She finds her voice. "Please, keep talking."

—

The first photo comes through the very next day.

You can intuit from the architecture in the background—the steep roofs, the brick exteriors, the gothic towers—she’s somewhere in Paris.

And there’s Mina, flat on her stomach, sheets tangled around her like the aftermath of a hurricane that’s swept through. Smiling at you straight down the barrel of the camera, cutting through the digital space between you. It’s sly and knowing and a little bit wicked, because she knows that it’s not the view of the city behind her that you’re looking at, nor is it even her face, usually so stunningly unavoidable and instantly captivating.

It's her ass.

Plump and round, poking over her shoulder, filling a whole corner of the frame. And you're spotting the indentations where your fingers have sunk in, the stretch of alabaster that your grip turned a shade of pink. A map of memories etched across the curve of her cheeks.

It’s a thousand words in a single photo, a message loud and clear, carefully composed to make you ache. So, you do. You ache.

You save the picture—not because you think you’re going to forget, but because you need to have a piece of her with you at all times.

Something to pull out when the days are too long, too dull. Something to look at when your memories of her aren’t enough anymore.

The photo, you notice, comes with a caption: ‘The only thing missing here is you.’

—

“Stability,” Mina’s telling you nights later, after you’ve spent close to an hour describing to her all the ways you’d like to have her again, like to break her down until she’s just a trembling mess of limbs and cum.

It’s a habit the two of you have picked up; these clandestine calls that come in the dead of night, during those rare occasions you’re in a reasonable enough time zone to talk. You’re actually in the same country this time. The States, but on different coasts, so, close enough.

She’s sending these breathy whispers down the phone; still coming down from her high, from the way her thighs clenched around her own hand, from the way she painted your name onto her skin with her own juices.

Still coming down from you, from the meticulously detailed step-by-step explanations of exactly what you’d do to her if you weren’t thousands of kilometres apart.

“Stability,” you repeat the answer she’s given to the question that’s been burning in your mind for weeks now. It’s certainly a faux pas to ask right after she’s made you cum across your own chest; but it’s late, and tonight’s suite is far too big and much too quiet—the kind of quiet that lets you think too much.

And so you had to ask her. Why was she still with him?

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Mina confirms. “I like stability, I like routine, I like knowing what to expect. Means I can never be disappointed.”

“Never be surprised, either,” you point out. She laughs, the sound warm and rich through the speaker.

“That’s never really been a problem.” She pauses. “Until you.”

There’s an alarm bell sounding somewhere, triggered by the way that last syllable curls around the corners of her lips, bounces across fifty different states to land in your ear.

You.

It rattles around your brain, punches you right in the gut. You try to play it off with a chuckle. But you both know what this really is. The desperation, the need. What you do to each other. How much of a fucking mess you’d make together if you had half the chance.

You make an attempt at being casual: “Apologies, then.”

“You kinda fuck everything up for me, you know?” She admits. “I was fine with it all. Leaving all of this as just a fantasy. Living with the boredom.”

“Everything’s boring.”

“Except this.”

You should really be above all this. The pining, the yearning. Having a crush.

It’s unbecoming.

Leave her alone. Leave her to the dream life she’s built up for herself. The career, the boyfriend, the whole shiny package that everyone’s decided she should want. It’d be the rational thing to do.

And yet— “So, what are we going to do about it?”

“I suppose,” Mina says, and once again, you're swearing you can hear her smile through the phone, because this is far from the end of things, “We’ll just have to find some way to scratch this itch.”

—

(It’s an outrageous abuse of power.

But so what? You’re an asshole billionaire, that’s what everyone expects of you anyway.

Besides, compared to your peers, it falls far short of bankrupting entire economies or causing irreparable damage to the Earth’s oceans and atmosphere.

So why not go full tilt and really indulge?

That’s basically the gist of your justification for forcing fate’s hand and manifesting your own ‘accidental’ meeting with Mina.

Still. It’s only a meeting.)

—

“Quite a situation you’ve engineered here,” is Mina’s first quip, as she steps right out of your daydreams and into your office.

Oh, you’ve been thinking of her.

Spent time replaying that night in your mind, revisiting the sight of her bouncing on that staircase, the feel of her soft skin slapping against yours, the sound of her sighs in your ears.

Obsessed over the messages, the photos, the videos she’s sent—how she moves, that coy smile on her face when she knows she’s got your full attention in her grip. All these mesmerising moments captured in high-definition.

And it’s coming back to you now—the waterfall of hair cascading down her shoulders, the red of her lips, the beauty spot on her nose, above her cupid’s bow—a constellation across her face.

(She makes your office feel small.)

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, aiming for flippant, but missing the mark by a wide margin.

“Mhm,” is all you’re going to get, because you both know better.

She makes herself at home here, taking the long way to your desk. Hips swaying as she runs her fingers over the décor, the lights and the statues, the books and the furniture. Again, fitting right in with the expensive, the luxurious, the exclusive.

You’re not hiding that you’re staring, and she’s not hiding that she knows either.

Mina walks right past you, turns away so you can see the full sweep of her back, the high-waisted skirt that hugs her curves before flaring out at the waist. Eventually, she stops at the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the city, the urban sprawl below a far cry from the palatial gardens that backdropped your first encounter.

The sun’s setting overhead. It casts a warm glow over her. Outlines her figure in gold.

You break the silence, "Heard the photoshoot went well."

“Well, you get what you pay for,” is Mina’s second quip of the afternoon. She turns back to face you, leaning against the window frame, a perfect silhouette.

You can almost hear the glass tremble.

Mina asks, offhandedly, “You’ll have to enlighten me—is it standard practice for visitor passes to have access to every floor in the tower?”

“Security must be lacking.”

“Right,” Mina says. “And is it normal in your line of work, for the CEO to handpick the brand ambassadors?”

You shrug. “I like to get my hands dirty.”

“If that’s what they’re calling it,” she responds, smiling now. Pushing herself off the glass and taking a dangerous step forward.

“We were looking to appeal to our Japanese market,” you say, repeating the same lines you fed to your team, to her management, to anyone who bothered to raise an eyebrow. It’s a good lie. “Needed someone refined, someone that depicted class. Aspirational.”

Mina takes another step forward. Heels that make her legs look endless hitting the polished flooring with a click. "So that's how you see me, then."

"Amongst other, less appropriate things," you admit, already completely, hopelessly captivated.

"Let me guess: Stunning?"

"That's one."

“Fuckable.”

“Absolutely.”

“Submissive?”

“Are you asking, or telling me?”

Mina’s eyes dazzle as she closes the distance, rounding your desk and stopping just short of your chair. She waits for you to swivel and face her.

And then she leans forward, so close. Nose brushing yours, breath warm and sweet and familiar. Her hands land on your thighs, pushing your legs apart.

She drops to her knees.

“Telling.”

You can’t help yourself, you press your thumb to her lips, stamping it crimson.

It’s a wicked thing, how Mina’s bottom lip dips, how her tongue snakes out to lick the pad of your thumb clean. You push in deeper, watching as she takes you into her mouth, seals her lips around you and sucks.

How she’s looking at you now—building up this image of Mina; kneeling, the skirt riding up, her panties soaked with anticipation. Dressed like this is just another business meeting—masked in a high neckline and a smile so perfect against your skin.

That's today's game. Dress up.

Professionalism went out the window the moment she walked in—it barely crosses your mind to wonder whether or not she locked the door. You don’t even care.

Mina stops her little show, thumb pops out of her mouth with a wet sound, leaving a smear of red behind. There’s something about Mina, something that can’t be intuited unless she’s right in front of you, inhaling your exhales, smiling up at you like you're the only person in the entire world that matters.

It's like magic—makes everything and everyone else feel like a figment of your imagination.

“You forgot to mention a few other things,” Mina breathes on you, low and warm, priming you for a punchline that you know will send you reeling.

“Like what?”

“Oh, you know,” and she starts unbuttoning her blouse, reaching for the top button then— “How utterly,”

Then the next button.

“Desperately,”

More still.

“Needy,”

All of them.

“I am for your wonderful, perfect cock.”

The blouse opens up, falls away, drifts off her shoulders until it’s blood-red lace and vanilla-white skin.

Fuck.

(Mina’s not from this world, no fucking way. Definitely not human; jury’s out on if she’s some kind of Goddess. Probably something in between, come down from some place where the air is thinner and the lights are brighter.)

Your mouth is dry. “I could never forget.”

Mina’s eyes crinkle at the corners. Lips spread wide. She’s kissing your cock through your pants.

It’s electric. A long, teasing press of her lips that winds you so tight that just the slightest touch, just a single word could set you off.

Her teeth graze the fabric. You throb through the cotton.

“Mina,” you manage, hand dropping to the side of her face. There’s a tremor in your voice that you’re not used to, that you can’t even pretend to hide. Mina’s got you in the palm of her hand—or rather, on the edge of her lips—even though she’s the one on her knees.

“Relax,” she coos, holding her lips against you, deft fingers unlatching your belt, finding your zipper. “Let me take care of you. Let me take care of this cock,” honeyed words slipping out with the same ease that tugs you free, “Get my tongue all over it, take it deep down my throat, be such a good little whore for you—until you can’t think of anything but how much you want me to swallow every drop you’ve got for me, baby.”

You swallow, caress her cheek, “Darling—”

“Shh," Mina hushes, taking your cock into her hand, holding it against her cheek. So damn happy to have it so close to her mouth once again. “Everything you said over the phone. All that stuff about fucking my face, leaving a mess, filling up my throat—I want it all. You’re going to give it to me now, please.”

She doesn’t even look up at you, just so focused on your cock. Kissing around the shaft, and then drawing her tongue in one, slow, dragging lick all the way from your base, right to the tip. It’s gentle, careful, exploratory.

Introducing her lips to every inch of skin along your cock, over your balls, taking her time to stain all of you with the sheen of her kisses. Careful, so careful. Meticulous too, deep in concentration that you can almost feel her thoughts, intuit from the pressure of her lips how much this means to her. How much she needs it.

And it’s as her breath warms the head of your cock that you realise you’ve got a stranglehold on the armrest of your chair, holding it so tightly you could snap it in two. Not like there’s any helping it, nothing to do but brace yourself as she opens her mouth, pink tongue peeking out, and licks you again—longer, slower.

Holding still now, cock balanced on her tongue, fixing you with this stare.

A dare.

(Don’t move. Don’t interrupt. Let her do her work.)

That’s when her boyfriend calls.

Sorry, her partner.

A jarring noise, a slap in the face that breaks the spell. Vibrating atop your oak desk, a violent buzzing through the room—once, twice, thrice.

Mina’s eyes flick to yours. A split second, a single thought shared. There’s laughter on her lips because of course, because why the fuck not, because this is definitely your kind of chaos. You nod. You’re both in on the joke.

The phone’s still ringing, ringing, ringing.

And Mina’s mouth is still on you, tongue tickling underneath, lips wrapping around, before taking you in deep. Right as she accepts the call.

“Hmf?”

—

(A good idea to mention this theory you’ve been brewing for a while, the other reason why Mina still hasn’t broken up with boyfriend.

Because of you.

Because of how much fucking hotter it makes her. The thrill, the rush, putting a blemish on an otherwise spotless record.

And maybe you’re just as guilty—because you want to hear her lie to him too.)

—

“Still working,” is Mina’s deadpan over the phone, somehow keeping a straight face despite how full her hands are with you. She even rolls her eyes. “You know how it is—unreasonable CEOs jumping down my throat for no good reason at all.”

This woman.

Churning lies with such ease that you almost feel sorry for the poor, oblivious soul on the other end of the phone. Almost.

But Mina's too good at all of this. Too good at hiding it all. Too good at everything, really—whether it's singing, dancing, kneeling before you, making your cock disappear down her throat.

Just a slight adjustment in posture, and she’s taking you in deeper. A gentle suck, a swirl of her tongue around the ridge—and oh, the way she’s looking at you, eyes up and so damn full of mischief.

She’s fucking loving this. Loving the way you’re watching her, the way your hand finds her hair as she takes you in, the way you’re fighting to keep your composure. Fighting to keep your breath even and calm and to stop yourself from groaning so loud that it won’t just be her boyfriend, but the whole fucking tower that’s going to hear how much of a slut she is for you.

You can still hear his voice coming through—muted, indistinct—like a ghost, haunting the edges of this pornographic scene you’ve painted together. 

Fuck this guy likes to talk.

“Mhm,” is all Mina has to say to keep him convinced, to let him believe that she’s actually invested in whatever the fuck he’s on about. Keeping him none the wiser that her full attention is on you, her mouth moving up and down, her eyes glued to yours, watching every twitch, every drop of pleasure that flits across your face.

She reaches up with her free hand, wrapping it around the base of your cock. Gliding along your shaft in this twisting movement that sets your nerves alight.

Everything’s just so tight—her grip, her throat, your own breath in your chest.

“Mhm,” again, longer, sounding closer and closer to a moan than a casual agreement, but still, she’s playing the part. Barely listening to what he’s saying, because she’s doing this thing with her tongue—right at the tip, flicking it around your slit—that’s making you test the strength of your chair.

There’s temptation here—her mouth so warm, so wet—it would be so easy to grab a fistful of her hair and fuck her mouth like you know she wants. But you keep your cool, keep your hand gentle and steady atop her head, let her dictate the rhythm.

And when you hear the voice over the phone rise, maybe a bit of frustration or concern, maybe the start of something suspicious, Mina shamelessly pops your cock out of your mouth and answers, “Just having a snack. Late lunch break.”

She hits the mute button.

Bows her head deep, savouring each inch as she takes you deeper, making this fucking sound when your cock hits the back of the throat. Wet, gagging, sloppy noises that build this tension right at the base of your spine that leaves you aching, absolutely desperate to just give her more.

She holds herself there, choking so nicely, so sweetly, on your cock. Her eyes start water, it’s an effort to keep them open, but she’s still smiling through it all, just so delighted to finally taste what she’s been dying to have for weeks.

You’re struggling, “Fucking hell, Mina.”

Mina giggles into your cock, vibrating along your shaft. Pulls her head back; just a rope of spit that connects the two of you, glinting under the fluorescent lights. A poke of her tongue has her scooping it all up and slurping it all down, smacking her lips with a satisfied ‘ah’.

She unmutes.

“Sorry, it just tastes really good. Like nothing I’ve had before.”

There’s a confused murmur coming out of the speaker, a perturbed, “Really?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” and Mina has the gall to wink at you, the audacity to keep her hand on your cock, stroking it like it’s the most normal thing in the world. All the while she just chats to her boyfriend—partner, again—like you’re not about to cover her face with your entire load.

“Mina,” you let slip when she squeezes too hard, cranes her head to feel the weight of your balls on her tongue. Lapping away, licking and tonguing and teasing, until you’re gritting your teeth, holding back the moan that wants to break free.

The voice at the end of the line crackles, “Who’s that?”

Mina doesn’t miss a beat, “Boss for the day,” presses a wet kiss onto the head of your cock in a futile attempt to still you, “Really pushing me hard, making me work for it, you know?”

The voice relaxes, but not enough. “What’s going on over there? Something doesn’t sound right.”

“Everything’s perfect.” Mina’s just so pleased with herself, tongue dancing up and down, over and around, making the chair creak from the reflexive jerk she forces out of you. “I’m exactly where I need to be.”

“I told you that you shouldn’t do these types of jobs, you should listen to me and—”

“Get on my hands and knees and beg them to let me break the contract?” Mina smirks up at you, lips all smeared and messy with your arousal. “I can handle it” she continues on, dragging her lips to your base so she can slur into your waist, “I’m a professional. This is what I’m built for.”

God, he really doesn't deserve her.

He drops the subject so easily, moving on to talk more about him, about his schedules, his work, his boring fucking existence outside of her. And now you’re both rolling your eyes, sharing this secret, this ridiculousness that’s got you both on the edge of laughter and utter bliss.

Mina ups the ante, mutes her side of the call, and places the phone back on top of the desk.

You cock an eyebrow. “Seriously, him?”

She shakes her head. “No, just you.”

And she shows you, proves her point, because Mina’s not one for half-measures. Holds your cock tightly, strokes it again and again, one after another like it’s counting down to something explosive. Bomb’s ticking: the pressure’s building, the heat is coiling in your balls, but she keeps it steady, keeps it slow, keeps it right on that edge where it’s just enough to keep you there, but not enough to push you over.

“I’m just yours,” Mina hums, licking her swollen lips. “I’m yours to do with as you please, but,” she pauses, so she can jerk you just right, stroking with such finesse that you can't believe she's ever been with someone who didn't appreciate it, "I'm really hoping you let me swallow your cock now."

“You’re too fucking greedy.” 

Mina nods so earnestly.

So you give her what she wants, because what’s the point of playing this game if she isn’t going to win? 

You stroke the back of her head, guide her as she takes you all the way—nose to stomach, swallowing you up like you’re her favourite snack, her favourite secret. Her favourite lie to tell herself.

Fucking ridiculous. Too fucking much.

You lift your hips, leaving her to yank down your pants over your knees and to the ground. The clank of your belt buckle against marble echoes through the room, a starting gun to your undoing.

The phone’s still there, he’s still talking, a vaguely muffled annoyance. Mina doesn't even spare it a glance, just looks up at you, mouth full, eyes declaring:

‘Ignore everything else, just enjoy me.��

Fuck.

Mina’s cheeks hollow, her throat pulses, and gone is the usual effortless grace that she carries through everything she does.

No, she’s all raw, all passion. Sloppy now, greedy, showing you just how much she’s willing to do for you. It’s in the way she’s using her hand to squeeze the base of your shaft, the way she’s bobbing her head faster and faster.

Filling the room with the sounds of her slurps and smacking of her lips; her eyes watering with every deepthroat. Making her mouth this perfect, wet, hot little cave that’s swallowing you whole.

And you’re watching, watching every single move she makes. Unable to do anything else, really. Unable to think, to speak, to do anything but stare at her mouth, her eyes, her hand moving up and down, up and down—stare at Mina giving herself over to you.

“Jesus—fuck—” and there’s your voice back again, so much louder than you intended.

But Mina’s smiling around your cock, eyes still on you, urging you on, putting you under her spell. She’s playing with your balls now, her thumb brushing over the sensitive skin, her nails lightly scraping, and it’s like she’s got every button mapped out, knows exactly how to make you go off the deep end.

"Mina, you're just so," you try, rummaging through your addled mind for the right words to pin on this storm before you, "so fucking good at this," you finally settle on.

Mina's eyes light up, triumphant. Deep pools of brown swirling with all sorts of things—few that can be said out loud and even fewer that should ever be thought—and none of which she gives a flying fuck about.

Your cock slides off her lips long enough for her to slur, "Flattery gets you everywhere, sir."

“Mina.”

She's just so happy with it all—it's a little unsettling. Mina, all elegance and poise, so fucking giddy at the opportunity to debase herself at your feet.

She takes a breath, a real one, not the shallow, desperate ones she’s been taking for the past few minutes, and then she’s diving back down. You can see the determination in the set of her jaw, the way she’s holding herself in place with one hand on your thigh so she can devour you whole. And she’s doing a phenomenal job, really, because your cock’s so hard it’s almost painful, and your thighs are trembling with the effort of keeping still.

But she’s not done yet, Mina’s never done. She reaches behind her, unclips her bra with a flick of her thumb, slipping it off her shoulders—a silent, unnoticed escape.

Perfect little tits, perfect little dusky nipples, peaked and ready for your attention. 

She takes one in her hand, rolls the nub between her fingers, playing with it, plucking it like a guitar string, making it sing. Making sure you’re still looking, while she's still sucking you off with her mouth, still fucking grinning around your cock.

A true masterclass in multitasking.

Her other hand stays on you, working in tandem with her mouth. A stroke for every bob, a squeeze for every moan, and she’s whining into your skin, a muffled—mmph, mmph, mmph—so loving that you know it’s not just for show.

Her hand drops down, slipping between her legs, disappearing into the fabric of her skirt. You can’t quite see it, but you know by her sigh as she leans into your thigh, by the way her other hand pinches her nipple harder, that she’s pressing up and into herself.

The fabric’s too thick to see much, but you can imagine her—fuck, you don’t have to imagine—you can almost feel her, her fingers sliding into her wetness, her palm cupping her mound, her middle finger circling her clit like it’s the head of a tiny drum, matching the same rhythm that’s been driving this whole spectacle.

“Your fucking mouth, Mina.”

The words leave you on a groan, a tightening of your grip on her head as she just plays and plays. Every suck pure heaven, warm, wet, utterly divine; pulling your hips closer and closer off the edge of your seat, until you’re nearly falling down her throat.

But even Mina, for all her skill and polish, can’t hold out forever. The fingers at her cunt, the kneading of her own tits, the gagging around your cock, the oblivious boyfriend still blissfully unaware of the depraved scene unfolding on the other end of the line.

It’s a heady cocktail, and she’s had too much too quickly. Her throat’s tightening around you, rogue tears are sliding down her cheeks, and it’s about time that you both give up on pretence and hurtle straight to the crux of this entire escapade.

You stand, rising to your feet before Mina has you tumbling off your chair, sliding your cock out of her chasing lips.

“Mina,” you breathe, voice full of gravel, heavy.

Mina’s frozen, just staring at your cock dangling above her nose, her mouth open and wet, her big, brown eyes begging for its return to her lips.

“Mina,” you repeat.

“Mmm?”

“I want to fuck your face now.”  

Mina licks her lips. “Want to?”

“I will.”

“Please,” she says, a single word like a hot knife slicing through whatever restraint you have let. And you’re just about to lose it, really fucking lose it because she’s so fucking eager, so fucking hot for it, so absolutely fucking yours.

In your office, at your desk, kneeling at your feet, skirt rucked up around her waist, panties drenched.

She ties up her hair into a messy bun.

“Please, use me.”

A twist of your hips has your cock slapping against her cheek, the sound bouncing off the walls, leaving a trail of gloss across her flushed skin.

Mina laughs.

You lean down, grab her hair, thread your fingers through the strands, and guide her lips to where they were made to be.

“Christ,” is ripped from your throat as your cock is back down hers, plunging into her mouth like its home.

You push, push until her nose is squished against your pelvis, holding her there; her throat tight against your cock, her hand working her clit in double time. Whimpers escape past her lips, muffled whines that threaten to break you if you’ll let it.

But you don’t, not yet. You pull out, just long enough to let her gasp for air, only, she doesn't need the respite. She just blinks, and begs—

“Again.”

And again. And again.

Until she’s a writhing mess, until she’s shaking with the effort of holding herself together, until you’re plunging into her mouth so fast that you’re truly fucking her throat.

Deep, harsh strokes that make her cheek bulge, that fuck tears from her eyes. And Mina fucking loves it. Loves every second of it, loves having her head thrown back, her throat working for you like it’s your divine right, like her sole purpose in life has been to take your cock.

You’re fucking her face like you said you would, like she’s been begging you to do for weeks, whispering sweet nothings and filthy somethings into your ear during those late-night phone calls. Giving exactly what she’s been craving, exactly what she’s been dreaming about when she fucked herself so nicely for you to hear.

And she’s just taking it, letting you use her mouth like it’s nothing, because to her, it’s everything.

She’s lost in it, her hand a blur between her legs, her eyes glazed over. She’s so close, so fucking close, and she’s taking you with her; dragging you down into this pit of depravity that she’s been keeping warm for you.

“Mina?”

And there’s the phone again. Louder now, insistent, demanding. Finally noticing somethings not quite right.

"Mina?"

There’s panic in Mina’s eyes—but you’re quick to realise it’s not worry for him. It’s desperation for you. For you to keep going, for you to not notice, for you to keep the fantasy alive.

But you do notice. And it just makes you harder.

You're too far gone now—you're thrusting into her mouth with a fervour that’s almost violent. Mina’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she takes it all, letting you fuck her face with a reckless abandon that’s only heightened by the voice on the phone getting louder, more concerned.

You’re the only voice she’ll listen to now. “Hold still for me, Mina.”

Her eyes go wide, and she nods, her mouth stretched wide around you. Cradling her cheeks, just firm enough to feel the heat of her blush.

“Mina, why are you muted?”

She’s barely even on this planet anymore—just bringing herself closer to the edge, loosening these ragged, wet moans around your pistoning cock.

“Mina, are you ignoring me again, seriously?”

“Mmph—fuh—mmph—” is her attempt at an answer, but she’s too busy letting you use your mouth, too busy fucking herself on her fingers, too busy being the perfect little slut she’s told you she wanted to be.

It fills the room—the sounds of wet, sloppy sucking, careless fucking, your own grunts of pleasure. And somewhere in the background, that voice getting more and more insistent.

“Mina, say something, answer me!”

And she does. Just not to him. She says it to you, mouth full, eyes on yours.

Garbled, stuttered, fucked-up little pleas— “there—there—please—please—oh my god—"

Her hand moves faster, her throat seizes, her eyes roll back in her head. Her body jerks, her hand still working her clit, her mouth still full of you.

Mina cums at your feet, a terrible, beautiful orchestra of noises—moaning, gurgling, gagging around your cock. Swallowing, desperate for a breath of air, trying not to choke, eyes watering so badly it’s a surprise she can see you at all.

You pull out, so abruptly that she gasps and stumbles a little. And yet, despite it all, despite how brutally hard and fast her orgasm hits her, she’s still smiling up at you, as graceful and gorgeous as ever.

So fucking proud of herself.

And she’s not done yet. She’s never done, not really.

Her hand comes up to catch you, holding your cock like an anchor, keeping you ready as she takes a moment to recover. The other reaches for the phone, a shaky hand bringing it to her lips, level with your own tip.

She takes a breath. She’s going to answer.

She unmutes again.

“Sorry. Can’t talk. Gotta finish something big.”

“Mina—what the fuck are you—”

Mina gives you that look—that nod.

Sucks you in one last time, gives you a final choke. A desperate gag, a deep impossible swallow down her throat. And then she releases you from her lips.

The phone clatters to the floor, forgotten.

“Cum for me, please, baby.”

At her instruction, you're erupting.

Mina captures the head of your cock with her lips, keeps it balanced on the edge. Uses both hands to twist and wind around your shaft. Overwhelming you, seizing you into her mouth because this is exactly what she’s been starved for.

Breaking a fucking dam inside you, flooding her mouth with your cum, completing her with your taste. It hits the back of her throat, thick and hot and she swallows and swallows and swallows.

So fucking grateful for every drop, for every pulse that shoots into her mouth, coating her tongue, sliding down her throat. She’s drinking you down like water, like air, like she can’t get enough of you, leaving you breathless until all you can do is just repeat her name over and over again—an endless chant of “Mina.”

And when you’re finally done, when every nerve-ending in your legs isn’t burning down and threatening to take you with it, you pull out of her mouth, gasping for air.

Mina just sits there.

Looking up at you, naked chest heaving, nipples stinging red. Cum slipping out the corners of her mouth, staining her chin. Skirt ruined, panties a sodden mess around her ankles. Hand still on your cock, coaxing you to peace.

And fuck, it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

With a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts, Mina reaches down to the floor and picks up the phone. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, not even bothering to be delicate about it.

"Hey," she says, voice miraculously calm and collected. "Sorry—got distracted."

You watch, utterly stunned, as she plays the part of the girlfriend so flawlessly, puts on an Oscar-worthy performance. You can hear the boyfriend's voice, frantic and worried—and completely fooled.

But then she looks at you, clears her throat, and her smile goes wide, and you can see the woman beneath the façade. The woman who's had enough of being bored. Who's decided that she's owed the impossible fantasy.

Kneeling on the floor, yet more powerful than ever.

So, so fucking perfect.

Spreading her thighs, fingers back at her cunt, carefully toying with her clit. Building herself back up to that peak she’s just thrown herself from, because apparently, that’s what you’ve taught her to do.

To never settle, never stop, never be satisfied with just one taste.

You’re cock throbs.

“Mina, you need to tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Her hand moves faster, her thumb circling and pressing, her middle finger slipping inside herself. You can see the gleam under the artificial lights, how her cunt’s making everything sticky and messy.

Making herself nice and ready.

“There's a big mess here,” she says into the phone, all sugary sweet, a perfect story that drips from her tongue like molasses. “Lot of clean up. It’s ruined me—ruined the whole job. It’s gonna keep me here all fucking night.”

—

(It’s just an arrangement.

That’s what you’re calling it when the moon’s rising over your office, and Mina’s kissing these promises over your heart, drawing up the terms of this unwritten contract that neither of you can really commit to—even though you're both well aware of how much you want to.

Sex, as an agreement. Sex, as a release. Sex, because you’re both fucking incredible at it.

It just might be everything you both need.

You're both just too afraid to be the first to say it out loud.) 

—

Weeks later, and you get really fucking good at making time for her.

Whether it’s fifteen minutes at a party, a couple hours at an airport, or a few nights spent in a hotel room with the curtains drawn and a do not disturb sign nailed to the door—everything starts to fall into place.

There's always an empty room to be pulled in to, a shadow to be claimed, a corner of the world that belongs to you.

It’s Mina, straddling you in the backseat of a limo, her cunt tight around you as the city lights slide by. Your hand on her throat, not choking but guiding, a conversation based on pressure and pleasure alone. Her tits bounce in your face, begging for your teeth, and you give it to them, biting down until she’s gasping your name into the leather upholstery. The chauffeur pretends not to notice. You don’t pretend anything.

It's you, bending her over the bathroom counter of some stranger’s house, her rather business-like slacks down at her feet to expose the bare, wonderful convex of her ass. You spank her until she’s crying, until she’s bright red and demanding that you make good on your promise to fill her up so she can’t leave this party without globs of you leaking down her legs.

It’s hotel beds that have seen too much, office desks forced to bear your weight, dressing rooms with the door locked tight.

It’s the way she looks at you when she thinks no one’s watching, the way she says your name. How she laughs, how she teases you, how she lets you in—just a little, just enough to keep you hooked. And you do the same.

It’s sex, but it’s not just sex, no matter what you tell yourself.

And it’s Mina again, fixing her hair while you zip her into something far more appropriate, already mentioning, “I'm going to be in New York next week, if you're in the area—"

And it's you, answering in the same way that you always do, "I’ll find a way."

—

Serendipity finds the two of you in Shanghai, amidst all its concrete jungle and neon lights, kept at bay by the soundproof windows and the drawn curtains of this hotel room turned temporary sanctuary.

Mina's stretched out on the bed, wearing one of your shirts that swallows her up to her knees, her hair a mess of curls and knots that she hasn't bothered to tame. Nose buried in a book—something thick and weighty Nayeon recommended her.

Paying no mind to you, as you’re busy brewing tea in the kitchenette (piping hot, oolong, how she likes it).

You sneak a glance as you wait for the kettle to boil, at the perfect picture she's composing—her bare legs peeking out from the shirt, the soft curve of her waist, the way the light from the bedside lamp casts shadows across her skin.

It's seeing her like this, far more exposed and naked than minutes ago when she was pinned beneath you wearing nothing at all, draining your cum into her cunt and thanking you for the privilege.

The drawbridge is coming down, guards leaving their posts—just the two of you in your stolen moments.

It's nice.

She catches you staring.

Tilts her chin down, peering at you over her glasses.

You ask, "Am I distracting you?"

"Always," she says, and it's loaded with the sum of whispered secrets and inside jokes, the weight of a dozen different glances stolen across crowded rooms. She closes the book, setting it aside, and pats the you-shaped imprint on the spread next to her. "Come here."

You bring a steaming cup over, handing it to her, adding a little more warmth to her side of the bed. An unneeded murmur of thanks, a smile that's brighter than any of the skyscrapers gleaming outside, and a careful sip.

You wait for her review.

A cool, clear, "Ah."

And as for your reward, she sets the mug down on her lap, closing her eyes and pursing her lips. Waiting, patiently.

It's built in you like a habit now—lean in, get the light peck you're owed. Gentle press against her lips, nose bumping up against her glasses, sweetness that makes her cheeks flush a lovely shade of pink.

Just so fucking cute and domestic that it almost feels wrong.

The normalcy, you're realising—doing something that millions of other people do every single day—kisses that aren’t about fucking, power plays and games. Kisses that are just...kisses.

Mina's on the same wavelength, that's her thing now. Looking at you with a slanted smile. A little disbelieving, a little amused.

You're sure you're mirroring it back.

“This is... weird, right?” You finally say, breaking the silence. Feeling the weight of the question, the implication of what you’re really asking. Is this okay? Is it allowed? Can we put a name on this without the whole world imploding?

Mina's smile doesn't falter. "Kinda," she says, and her hand's slipping into yours, her thumb tracing little circles against your palm. “Very. But also, good.”

You nod, not quite believing it. You've had relationships (is that what you're calling this now?)—but none of them felt like this. Like, sure, she makes you hard, but fuck if she doesn't make you weak.

Pulling you into this loop of familiarity, learning things about her that you would've dismissed if it was anyone else. Not just the carnal things—the ones that make her thighs run with need, that make her chant your name like it’s the only word she knows.

Normal people things. Snack addictions, sleeping habits, temperature controls.

The mug goes to the bedside table, and Mina twists her body into yours, landing her head on your lap and curling her legs up so they stay on the bed.

"You know," she says, still holding your hand, fingers tracing up your forearm now, nails drawing in a light tattoo. "I thought that this wouldn't work out."

You mention the obvious. "Because you still, technically, have a boyfriend?"

Mina stretches herself out against your waist, incidental movements that just so happen to make you stir. "No, darling," she's saying, turning to look at you, making your heart stutter. "It's because you're you. Relationships just don’t seem to be in your nature."

You feign injury.  

Even though, truth be told, she has a point there. You’ve never been one for the quiet moments, for the mundane comforts, mornings next to someone you spent the night with.

Maybe it's your own guardrails you've put up, maybe it's some sappy Trojan Horse she's pushed through the gates of your stoic heart—but here you are, stroking her hair while she holds your hand, your fingers playing with the soft strands like you're trying to learn Braille.

"You know," she says, reaching it out to run her thumb down the line of your jaw, "guys like you are all the same."

You arch a brow. "I think I’ve heard this one before.”

"Let me finish," she says, "Obsessed with the thrill of the chase, with the idea of something you can't have. And when you finally get it, you just...disappear."

She grants you the headspace to ruminate over that one. 

"Are you saying I already have you?"

"Haven’t figured it out yet?" she whispers, shifting her weight on the bed. Another Mina special, the incidental movements, shirt pulling taut against her, and with benevolent grace, it slides down an inch. The swell of her breast revealed, an already pebbled nipple peeking out. A shy secret. As if.

And she knows. Mina knows what it takes to turn you on because, deep down, she’s the same. Different animals, same beasts, the roles could easily be flipped: her the billionaire, you the idol, and it would still end up the same.

You’re both chasers of thrills, craving the high of the untouchable, the unattainable.

Doing whatever it takes to feel alive—that's what it boils down to, isn't it?

"I meant it, you know," you're saying, exposing yourself, all gooey and raw. "Never once dreamt of owning you."

It's obvious where Mina's headed with this. So used to people just laying claim of her without even asking—like it's their fucking right. Believing that just because she’s in their vicinity, smiling all pretty and dressed up, she's fair game. Thinking the fame has done to her what it's done to so many others, turned them into commodities.

And maybe she's let them believe the fantasy, it's her job after all, to fuel the delusion and make it feel real. But never once did she truly belong to anyone but herself.

And yet, and yet, and yet.

Mina lifts herself off your lap, body bowing, leaving the shirt to ghost down her arms and leave her chest bare.

Closer still, until she's straddling your hips, thighs pressing down on either side of your legs, and oh, mystery solved, there was nothing under the shirt but her.

And again, Mina, on the subject of your title over her: "Not even if I wanted you to?"

—

(It takes the length of a phone call for Mina to be officially yours.

Brutal in her efficiency, cutting the guy down and pushing him off the cliff of the inevitable.

You're just as cruel, laughing between her thighs as she slurs vague platitudes, barely encroaching on an apology, uncaring bullets flying across borders.

And then the 'I can't' when prompted for a chance to negotiate, an 'I'm busy' when the pleas come, and a final 'just fucking give up already' when the desperation gets too much and he's becoming less and less important the further your tongue gets into her cunt.

Poor bastard doesn't even know he's not the only one getting fucked.)

—

You feel like you’ve earned the right to be a tad more reckless.

So, dates.

Conventional, yes, but fuck you could do with some of that now. You had the money, the power, and now you had the girl. So, secret dates, grand gestures, the whole nine yards.

And yet, each one was its own little disaster.

An example: the restaurant.

Michelin stars, gourmet courses, over-the-top bullshit that you unashamedly love. Booking out the entire joint for the night, only for it to all go haywire when Mina showed up in that dress; tight, tiny, black.

"Eyes up here, darling," is what she said, before, "Or, you know, don't. I like the attention."

Just fucking you all the way up, having you pushing her into a backroom before the wine was even poured. Ruining said dress, rucking it up to her waist, making it some poor drycleaner’s problem.

“I was never big on grand gestures,” she assures you, as you pepper her neck with kisses, hands curving around to her breasts on sheer instinct.

"Wish you'd told me that in advance."

"And miss out on this?" Mina groans something fierce when your fingers find purchase. “Never.”

It's just Mina and you, doing what you've done a dozen times over by now, having long blown past any insecurities that this might just be too good, too perfect, that one of you might be the first to bolt for the door and run.

“I swear to god,” Mina’s managing, as you’re shoving her panties to the side, because you’re both well aware that this has to happen right here, right now. “This cock is going to be the death of me.”

You chuckle against her throat. “Wouldn’t be a bad way to go though, right?”

“You’re insatiable.”

“Says you.”

“Please, just—”

Your hips snap into her. She flinches. Screams your name so fucking loud.

Each and every one of the kitchen staff receives a very, very sizeable tip.

—

It becomes a problem.

Oddly enough, neither of you are at fault.

Leaked photos light up every website, tabloid, and social media platform in mere minutes—Mina and her ex, wrapped up in each other’s arms, the unmistakable blur of a bedroom in the background. Nothing too lurid, nothing too explicit—but just enough to get the world to gasp in collective shock.

The fucking coward did it. You never knew he had it in him.

Sure there's dating on the pictures. Years, probably, back to when their happiness couldn't be called into question, but it does its job.

The statements pointing this out do little to shift the public's attention though, they've already latched on to the chance to rip apart her spotless record. You’ve seen it before, a hundred times with a hundred different celebrities. The cycle of love turned to dust in the blink of a camera flash.

And yet despite all of this, despite the shitstorm that’s swirling around her, despite the radio silence you're expecting, not an hour passes before Mina's calling you again.

“I need you.”

“Then come over.”

—

Mina belongs here, it’s so obvious.

Walking through the rooms of your home like she’s always been there, like she’s what’s been missing.

None of the art on the walls, the books on the shelves, none of the sculptures worth more money than any person should ever see in their life—none of it make as much sense as she does here, in your space.

Ours, you’re already thinking.

While you’re staring at her, she’s taking it all in—every detail of your domain, eyes brushing over the aged furniture and modern finishes, each aspect of your home that you’ve curated as meticulously as you’ve cultivated your own reputation.

She doesn’t say a word about whatever conclusion she’s drawing—because she’s not the type to judge—she’s just curious. She’s always been curious.

And then she’s in your arms.

Hands looping around your neck as you hold her tight, like it’s been years instead of the mere days since you’ve seen her. Since you’ve felt her heat, heard her whimpers, felt her nails dig into your skin like she’s trying to slip in underneath.

“It was inevitable, right?” She whispers against your collarbone. “Something was bound to fuck this all up eventually. My life, yours. It was all too perfect.”

You hold her tight. Letting her sink into your embrace, disappear into your chest. She’s so small in your arms—not that she’s ever not been, but right now, it’s stark. Like she’s shrunk, folded herself into something more manageable, something easier to hide. Something that won’t be torn apart by the teeth of the media and the rabid fans.

Kiss the top of her head to make her relax a fraction, opening a pressure valve that releases a shaky exhale.

You point out, “It still is.”

Mina blinks up at you, and you pretend you don’t see the dampening in the corners of her eyes. “I need to do the whole apology tour now. Keep my head down, hide my face. That’s what they’re saying anyway. What they expect.”

You shrug. “Could hide out here.”

That makes Mina smile, laugh even, colouring her features with something far more impactful than any of the decor. “And, I'm guessing, fucking each other’s brains out from sunrise to sunset?"

"There'll be a couple of meals in between. You may be surprised to learn I make a mean bowl of ramen."

Mina laughs again, and it’s the sweetest sound in the world—like the chiming of a bell that’s only meant for you. She looks at you, really looks, and you can see the wheels turning in her mind, the genuine consideration she's giving your proposal.

“What do you say?”

“I—”

Before she can finish, you add, “I can handle our little problem. Just leave it to me.”

Mina blinks. There’s the curiosity again. “Handle?”

“Yeah,” you reply, vaguely amused. Something darker in the back of your throat. “I know some people. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Mina stares at you aghast, the smile slipping from her lips. Wondering if she might have missed something in the reality of the billionaire with a silver tongue and a penchant for ruining dresses.

It’s your turn to laugh. “I’m kidding, Mina. Jesus, the look on your face. I’m not going to have the guy killed.”

Mina rolls her eyes. Slaps your chest with a little more force than intended.

You add, with a Disney Villain-worthy ominous tone, “For now.”

“You ass,” she says, but she’s smiling again, the tension all but dissipated.

“Not even I’m capable of having that sort of thing arranged. Well, maybe I am, just never tried, so—” you begin, only to stop immediately at the curving of Mina’s lips. “I was just planning on doing a bit of spin. Tap some of our PR Wizards, maybe offer the wolves something juicier. Whitewash the whole thing—shut him down.”

And a cherry on top of your whole plan—

"Make him wish I'd kill him instead."

Mina’s expression shifts, taking pause to study your face, your words. It’s the pragmatism that gets her, you think—but it’s baked into who you are. You don’t get to a billion dollars by making friends.

As a point of clarification, she asks, "What are you going to offer the press? I mean, you’re not going to leak dirt on someone else, are you?"

You shrug, an easy smile playing on your lips, "I was thinking we could just go public with us. Offer our whole thing."

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"My jokes usually make you laugh."

Mina takes her time to ponder this, to consider what you’re actually saying. To process the idea of turning all this—the sneaking around, the private moments, the stolen kisses—into something so exposed. Something translated and made palatable for public consumption, to be picked apart by the vultures skirting the edges of the media.

And there’s fear there too. That the thrill could wear off for her again, the exhilaration could evaporate, and the boredom would settle in.

Or it could be a whole brand-new opportunity. Replacing one thrill with another, the rush that comes with being seen together, the excitement of the chase being replaced with the passion of the capture.

She asks, slowly, carefully choosing each word, doing her best to avoid setting off a bomb that could send this whole thing into a downward spiral. "Is this what you want to do?"

You pull her closer, fit her body flush against yours, and bring your lips down onto hers. You let them linger, let her sigh, let her melt and keen and smile against your mouth.

"Darling," you murmur against her lips, "I've been ready to tell the whole world since the moment I sat down next to you."

—

Sometimes, the conventional ways are the best.

Stumbling through your house—kissing her hard in the hallway, losing her skirt in the kitchen, tearing off her shirt at the top of the staircase. Carrying her past the threshold of your bedroom and leaving her panties at the door; truly letting her into your world in every way, shape, and form.

Holding her close, one hand at her waist, the other looping around her chest. Kissing into her neck as you lay her down onto your mattress, getting up close and personal until it’s all Mina, all the sweetness and heat of her, the richness of her perfume that’s become her signature.

The red of her blush, her lips, the marks you’re leaving on her skin. The white of her throat, her collarbone, the bra that’s half on, half of.

Pinning her wrists over her head, keeping her still, watching her pupils dilate.

Fucking flawless. Every inch, every glorious detail. Underneath you, at your mercy, already staining your sheets with her need.

And then, a beg:

“Please.”

“Greedy.”

“It’s how you made me.”

Your other hand ventures lower, drifting down her stomach, holding against her abs, leaving your fingertips to ghost over her mound.

She shudders at your touch.

You let her know, “I wasn’t complaining.”

And your tongue is on hers, soft to start, relaxing into familiar patterns, swipes of reintroductions, until Mina’s arching her back, urging you on. But you’re greedy in your own way; wanting to take your time, wanting to extract all these sighs and moans straight from the source.

Only, Mina’s having none of it.

“You’re really going to torture me after the day I’ve had?”

You quirk an eyebrow, push your thumb down against her clit. Applying enough pressure to make her hips buck.

"Torture is a strong word, darling."

Mina's huffs as you hold her there, keeping her locked in place and at your mercy. Wriggling under your grasp, but not making any real effort to escape. After all, where would the fun be in that?

"Fine," she's relenting, eyes slipping shut, unable to hide the smile that’s making its way onto her face. "Call it what you want. Just—more."

"Then let's just call it a pleasant distraction."

Your lips are together once more, your kiss quickly turning from something sweet to something a lot more demanding. Throwing Mina a bone, pressing into her a declaration of intent that has her wild for you.

You take your fingers, slide it down, swiping through her folds. Dancing around her entrance, seeing how nice and slick she already is for you, feeding that gnat in the back of your head that urges you to just fill her whole. Right before pressing up into her cunt.

“Yes,” Mina whispers into your mouth, hips rising to meet your hand, helpless little shivers around your first, then second digit—pushing until you’re knuckle deep inside her heat, making her squirm and cry, “Just stretch this fucking pussy, please.”

“Oh, you’re so wet for me,” you say, like it's a surprise, like she's ever not, like she doesn't part her legs and beg for you to take the invitation to her cunt every single time.

And Mina’s reaffirming, “Of course I am, I’m always—” but she never gets to finish her sentence, because you’re sliding a third finger in, and she’s trying so hard to keep it all together despite how determined you are to pull it all apart.

You’re too attentive—watching her face, every micro expression. Watching for every twitch, every whine, every cry that gets stuck in her throat when she tries to swallow it down.

There’s beauty in all of it, every single time, you could never get enough of it. Been burned into you now—what it takes to make Mina come undone. The right ways to touch her, the spots that make her preen. Where to be gentle, when to be rough, how to keep her guessing.

It’s all here, now, distilled to its basest elements, and it doesn’t even take much. You’re too good at this, know her far too well to need anything other than the sound of her breath to dictate your pace.

Your thumb plays at her swollen clit, doing nothing but pressing down as your fingers saw in and out of her slippery cunt, making her clench around you like she always does. Faster and faster, until she’s crying for it, shivering and trembling underneath you, struggling against your hold on her wrists because she's dying for something to hold onto.

“You—you’re too much,” Mina pants, because that’s all she can do now as you push into her with purpose. So, so fucking wet, creaming around your fingers, pooling in the palm of your hand. “Too—too—too fucking—”

Losing control over her own limbs, cumming with a sharp cry, levitating off the bed as your hand works magic between her legs, needing a hard kiss to ease her back down to Earth.

The aftershocks still roll through her body, leaving her with these tiny, frantic whimpers. You keep her pinned, soothe her with your thumb at her clit, padding around in gentle circles, feeling her spasm and pulse around your fingers.

Your kiss ends on that high note, parting lips to give Mina a chance at a complete inhale. Her chest is heaving, nipples poking out of the top of her bra, skin already sticky with sweat. Eyes opening, hazed over with need and the beginnings of tears.

“I—I need more.”

Hands let go of her wrists, fingers slide out of her cunt, and you lean back to watch her try to compose herself. It’s a battle she’s not winning.

Mina’s blinking up at you, trying to catch her breath, trying to remember how to do anything other than be fucked into oblivion by you. You help her—leaning over, thumbs hooking under her bra straps. Pulling it down with a gentle tug that makes her arch into the motion, makes her chest spill out and your mouth water.

You take the chance to admire her. To drink her in, appreciate her the way she deserves to be appreciated—a masterpiece spread out on your bed, naked and needy.

There’s the intoxication, knowing you’re the one that did that to her, knowing that you’re the one that’s going to do it again. Over and over again.

“If I have to wait another second, I’m going to scream,” Mina says, the demand losing its edge in a whine.

You chuckle, press an open-mouthed kiss onto her breast, sucking a nipple between your teeth.

Sometimes, you just can’t resist.

“Let’s not pretend that isn’t exactly what I want.”

“Make it happen, then.”

Mina holds position as you pull back, keeping her hands over her head, keeping as still as a statue as you come to your knees over her. Eyes on you as your shirt, your belt, your pants go. Eyes on your cock as your briefs fall away, leaving it standing tall and thick and ready for her.

There’s power dynamics at play here—how Mina’s so vulnerable to you, how she’s laid herself out, unwilling to move until you tell her to. She understands it, implicitly. Knows she’s playing right into your hands, forced to wait while you let the anticipation build.

You hold your cock above her, stroke it carefully. Watch her eyes track it. See her gulp.

And she begs, again, “Please,” softer now, the unmistakable tremble in her voice. "I just—I need it so fucking bad."

Whether on purpose or by instinct, her legs splay, presenting her pussy, glistening with want. There’s the pulse in her clit, the need dripping over her folds—you feed the agony just a little more, hovering over the entrance, letting the tip of your cock graze over it. Teasing, taunting.

"Beg for it."

Mina opens her mouth, but she fails to summon the words. Just leaves her lips hanging open, leaving you an opening for your fingers to push in and try to help her find the right plea.

Her tongue flicks out, licks at your digits, the taste of her arousal still thick on them. The wetness of her tongue as she sucks, the suction of her lips as she envelopes each finger, one by one. Savouring her own flavour with deep, longing slurps, with grateful hums resonating around your fingers.

Leaking down the tip of your cock, cunt getting wetter and wetter the longer she’s denied. Making you throb against her, making your hips jerk and bump dangerously close to where she needs you to be.

But you still don’t enter her. You just wait until she’s done, until your fingers are clean and wet, and she’s left a trail of kisses up to your wrist.

It’s then that you drag your fingers out from her lips and demand of her once more:

“Beg.”

And this time, Mina’s able to say it clearly, confidently, right from her chest—

“I need you inside me. Need to feel you so deep inside me that I can’t tell where I end and you begin. I want to make you cum so hard you’ll never want to leave, want to leave your mark so deep inside me that even if you do, I’ll still feel you.”

Each word, a fucking gift.

And her reward—

A hard, quick plunge straight into her cunt. Inside her, instantly buried, immediately unbearable. Just too good.

Mina can’t do anything, just dig her nails into the sheets and try not to scream at the suddenness of it, at the way you complete her without any warning at all.

It all just ripples through her, a second orgasm already possessing her and forcing her into seizure. Can’t even hold it together—can’t keep the moans contained, can’t keep herself steady—can only just lock eyes with you and hope that you’re seeing it all, hope that you’re feeling it too.

Mina’s got no control around you anymore, none at all.

“Your cock,” she’s saying, repeating it over and over. Like it’s brand new to her, like it hasn’t ever left her wrecked a hundred times over.  “Your fucking cock.”

Words punctuated by the slaps of your hips, the wet sounds of your bodies colliding, of Mina welcoming every stroke of your cock inside her. So fucking tight, gloved around you like it was forged specifically for your cock; not for anything else but you, only you.

“So hard, my God.” Mina’s hands clasp behind your neck, needing a firm hold on something solid and real. “So fucking hard for me, so—so—fuck—”

Her lips are everywhere, a flurry of butterfly kisses across your cheekbones, the bridge of your nose, the edges of your jawline. Crazed, unbridled assault of affection. Disarming, incredibly hot. Mina doing her best to mark you up before she’s torn away again.

It’s far too early in the processions—habit would usually have her playing it cool, trying to keep up the façade of control, hold onto shreds of dignity, until she’s unravelling completely and begging you to fuck her harder, deeper.

But now, she’s just letting you have her.

No games, no pretences.

Just you, and her, and this wild, hopeless need to feel good, to be consumed by this.

“Yours,” Mina’s whispering, voice cracking around the edges, “All yours.”

And you know it. Have known it. Had it signed and sealed in ink since the very first time she told you. When you made her knees buckle and eyes water as you took her in every way possible. Since she called out for you, said your name into the quiet of the night like it was a secret she never wanted to keep.

Yet it’s hearing it now, the sum of all these moments stacked on top of each other; the haunts that you’d frequent, the private corners that you’d made yours, the endless phone calls and messages and photos that could fill entire warehouses with their filth.

Finally here—both of you, panting, sweating, sex thick in the air. The world outside forgotten.

Fucking Mina so hard, so deep, euphoria shooting straight through you each time your cock bottoms out inside her. The softness of her cunt, its heat, its creaminess, its fucking divinity. Leaking out all around you and squeezing you so good that it’s a miracle that you’re still coherent enough to speak.

But you do, with a gruff, “Already knew that, darling.”

Mina’s laughing, because that’s the type of high you’re giving her. Even with the way you’re stretching her open, even with her eyes barely open and her toes curling into the bed—she’s laughing because it’s the only thing she can do. Because it’s all so absurdly perfect that she can’t find the energy to do anything else.

“All this, all of you,” you’re leaning in, at the base of her throat, licking a stripe up to her earlobe. Drumming the words into her skin, until she shivers. “Every part of you. All mine.”

Simple words that hold so much sway over her, that could pull her apart or build her right back up. Words that make Mina clench around you, make her cunt grasp you so tightly as if she’s trying to make them real.

“Always,” she’s heaving, “Always yours.”

And there’s this look on her face, like she’s lost in a dream—eyes glassy and all fogged up, breath hot against your shoulder. Glowing under the dimmed lights, making the sweat pooling at the base of her throat shimmer.

Keeping your hand there, at her neck, like it’s the only thing keeping her from floating away. Ruining her. Because really, it’s all for her. All of this is all for her pleasure, her satisfaction.

You’re just along for the ride, so fucking lucky to have her like this. So impossibly beautiful, just knowing she exists would drive you insane if you didn’t get to be with her. Didn’t get a chance at this pussy, so perfect, dripping so much, made so hot for you and only you. Your own personal slutty cunt.

It’s the way her legs wrap around your hips—the smoothness of her skin, the power in those thighs, holding you like she’s afraid you’ll pull away. Like she’s terrified you’ll leave her like this, frantic and wretched and so, so fucking wet.

The newest picture you’re painting, your magnum opus in her name—her tits bouncing with each thrust, nipples stiff and flicking in the air. The yielding of her back, bending just so she can accommodate that extra length of you inside her. And her stomach—fuck, those abs. Tightening and loosening, shaking with every hit of your hips, with every sharp gasp of air.

Demanding of you. Cum for me. Please. Now.

“I need this. Exactly this from now on,” Mina’s declaring, stuttering it like you’re fucking every syllable out of her tightness. “Just you fucking me. Whenever we’re together, every second we get alone—fuck—"

And you’re nodding because you’re always right there with her, always on the same wavelength, thinking the exact same fucking thing.

“Keep filing me up until I can’t take it anymore. Until I’m screaming so loud, I can’t even hear myself think—”

Breathless words that flood your ears, that Mina needs to get out, needs to make sure you hear. Absorbed straight into your bloodstream, pumping into your cock, fed right back into her cunt. So fucking tight. So downright incredible that you’re speeding up, driving in deep, as deep as you could possibly go.

“Until I’m so full of you that I forget my own name—forget any other name but yours—until I—until I—”

A nasty hit makes her body curve and rise, makes her pussy clamp around you, in warning of the orgasm to come, the one you’re both hurtling towards with a kind of reckless abandon that’s become second nature.

“Until I—please—just always make me feel this way—”

“You will,” you promise, meaning it, fucking it into her like your life depends on it. Like you need it to survive, because maybe you do. Maybe you’ve never truly lived until you’ve felt Mina’s cunt quiver around your cock like this, until you’ve heard her beg for you like you’re the only thing she needs to breathe. And again, for good measure, “you will."

And oh, that’s all it takes. That’s enough to have Mina spilling.

“Cumming,” is her proclamation. Repeated, ad infinitum, just, “Cumming, cumming, cumming.”

All over your cock, all around your cock. Cunt strangling you with the force of it.

And this is where you decide Mina’s most beautiful.

When she’s consumed by climax, when she’s held prisoner by it, when she’s just nothing but a canvas for you to leave your marks all over.

“Feel so good—so fucking good—”

It’s the best kind of challenge, pushing her through it.

Worshipping her in all the ways that count, treating Mina in ways woman like her should never be treated. Tearing an angel down from the heavens just to hammer her cunt into submission, and being thanked for it afterwards.

“God,” Mina’s trying, voice rasping and broken, “I—fuck—I can’t—”

You take her, hand wrapping around her tits, pinching, rolling, teasing nipples until they’re as tight as her cunt around you. Leaning in and capturing her lips, drinking down her whimpers with a kiss so deep you can taste your name on her tongue.

Fucking her, ruining that tight, little pussy, through every wave that crashes down over her, that burns her up from the inside and makes her so Goddamn hot.

Leaving her in disbelief that it could ever feel this good again, that there's a light at the end of this tunnel, that there's a life after being fucked so thoroughly by your cock.

Holding her through it, preventing her from crumbling into a million overstimulated pieces. Slowing down the pace of your hips with steady, deliberate thrusts until you’re just inside her. Cock throbbing, bathing in her heat, waiting.

Mina stirs, eyes flutter open, meeting yours. “Cum inside me. Wherever you’d like.”

There’s only one real choice. Mina knows this as well as you do.

Your cock leaves her cunt, slick with her juices, her cum. Proof of your dominion over her body, gleaming along your shaft.

Nothing but bliss on Mina’s face, so well-fucked and satisfied and just plain happy that it’s almost a surprise she hasn’t melted away into a puddle. She’s smiling, looking up at you through her lashes, sweet and soft and perfect.

Turning herself over, bowing down on her knees, pointing her ass up at you like it’s the universe itself handing you a present and saying, ‘Here, this is yours.’

You can’t resist that kind of temptation.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” Mina tells you, rolling her hips higher still, flaring out her hips, treating you to the perfectly round globes of her ass. “Waiting for you to take me. However you want. Make it hurt so good. Make me remember how you feel.”

Her hands reach back, delicate fingers spreading plump cheeks apart. The tight, pink ring of her ass winking at you. A sight that never gets old, a vision that’s forever carved into the back of your eyeballs.

One last request. “Please.”

Your cock pushes in.

“Thank you.”

Right away, it’s too fucking much. Your cock breaching through her asshole, pushing in inch by inch. Slow and torturous, the kind of thing that makes you want to yell.

Then the first thrust—that first hit, like a narcotic, straight through your veins, every single time. Feeling it, sensations so intense, so sharp, that you forget to even breathe.

And Mina’s crying. Crying out, muffled by the pillow she’s biting into. Yet still, pushing back against you, urging you deeper, even though she’s coming apart, even though she’s shaking from the sheer effort of having you fill her.

“Darling,” you call to her, “you’re doing so good,” because she is. Good, good, so fucking good for letting you split her in two like this. For letting you ruin her in all the best ways.

The second thrust is easier, smoother. Body giving in to your demands, stretching around your cock like it always does, like it’s made to do. To bend and flex to your whims and desires.

With every push, every retreat, every agonisingly, achingly slow grind into her ass, you’re nearing that rapturous end.

“So fucking good for me, Mina. Your ass is so tight around me. Such a good girl.” You’re grunting now, trying to ease her into it, to build up to the point where you can pound her, push her like you really want to.

Mina’s nodding, eyes screwed shut, sunken in the way you’re stretching her out. It’s a familiar feeling, having her ass opening up for you. A dance you’ve performed so often it’s almost muscle memory—each step painstakingly learned; each move carefully choreographed.

You’re easing into her, slow, so fucking slow that it’s a wonder that either of you doesn’t implode with want. But Mina’s good, so good, letting out these tiny, shuddering breaths that you feel down to the marrow of your bones.

And then, as your is fully seated in her ass—

“Don’t hold back,” Mina says, quietly, barely audible, but the need is crystal clear. “All of it, please.”

Hand in her hair, hand at her waist. Gripping into her, guiding her and then fucking her, really, truly flooding her ass with your cock, disappearing into her tightness until your hips are slapping into hers.

So pretty, even like this, even when her moans are getting louder, borderline screams that are cut off by the cotton of the pillow, her knuckles turning white in the effort. Her back tenses, muscles rippling underneath your palms.

She dips a hand underneath her, between her legs. Fingers at her cunt, whirling around her clit, doing all she can to keep up with you.

“Feels fucking amazing. Your ass, Mina,” you’re trying to say, but it’s coming out all gravelly and thick. “So fucking tight for me.”

It’s the one through-line that’s kept steady over these months. Mina’s transcendental beauty, Mina’s razor-sharp intelligence, Mina’s pussy that’s always, perpetually yours. All these things; but it’s Mina’s ass—that perfect, juicy, heart-shaped, fucking flawless ass that keeps you up at night.

Every time you’re buried inside, it’s like coming home to something sacred. Tightness gripping you, ass swallowing your cock in waves, the kind of feeling that makes you believe in a higher power—because nothing so divine could possibly be man-made.

“Fuck, I just—” Mina’s breathing out, quick huffs because that’s all she can manage, “just love this so fucking much. Love how you feel in my fucking ass.”

Her hand’s working overtime now, circling her clit with a fervour that’s almost religious. Pussy starting to leak again, juices running down her thighs, mixing with the sweat, pooling at her knees. Fuck, the way she’s touching herself while taking you in, so willingly, so wantonly, so utterly destroyed for you—she’s going to cum again, you can feel it. And you’re not far behind.

“I think I’m going to—fuck, I only just—but I’m going to—again—you’re going to make me—again—” She’s squealing, half-mumbling, full-crying, and your heart nearly bursts out of your chest because it’s all for you.  

You’re not even managing anything other than desperate thrusts, just fucking her with everything you have—like you’re trying to claim her inside and out, trying to leave your fingerprints on every part of her so everyone will know she’s been yours all along.

“Please, please, please,” again and again, stuttering out, “Just—just—just—”

Just keep going, keep pushing into her until she’s shaking, until she’s pleading for you to stop, to let her breathe, because she’s about to fucking break.

Or, really:

Keep going and never, ever stop.

The hand in her hair tightens, pulling her back, making her arch. That perfect spine, the curve that’s painted by God himself. Kisses into her shoulder, into the crook of her neck, making her whimper.

“Keep fucking me. Like this—like this—God—I’m going to—again—”

Pulling her closer to you, so you can feel the tremors starting from her core, spreading out like wildfire. Pushing her hand away, taking over between her legs—rubbing, teasing, circling her cunt and pushing her closer and closer to the brink. Fucking her so deeply that you can feel the first quivers of her orgasm from the inside out, daring to take over her body again.

“Keep fucking—touching me, fill me up—just don’t—please, I need it—”

A final plea, her last rites, before she’s lost.

“Cumming—cumming again—please, oh, please—oh—”

Mina’s body goes lax, a ragdoll in your arms. But you keep fucking her through it. Through the quakes and shivers, through the cries—through the crying out. Pleading. Pleading for you to follow her into oblivion.

And fuck. If you’re not right there with her.

You’re close, chasing her, feeling her orgasm, feeling it coil around your cock and pump through her veins and into yours. Feel her—her body, her muscles, her cunt—tightening, tightening, tightening around you until it’s unbearable.

“Cum for me—with me—” she’s repeating, her newest mantra, “cum inside me. Give it to me—please, I need it—please—so badly—”

Begging, dying for it. Willing, wanting to do anything for it.

But she doesn’t need to—you can’t fucking hold on any longer.

“Mina—fuck—"

You slam into her, and finally burst.

Filling her ass with your cum, feeling it spurt into her, thick and hot. Pumping into her, over and over, getting wrung dry by her ass, cumming so hard it feels like your bones might shatter.

Cumming until your vision swims, until the architecture in your knees threaten to give out, until all you can do is hold onto her hips and keep her in place, keep her right there, impaled on your cock, until every single drop of cum has found a home inside her ass.

Until you’re so sensitive it’s almost painful. Until the orgasm has passed over the two of you and left you feeling like you might dissolve into nothing but pure sensation.

“Christ,” you manage to get out, the word tearing out of you like it’s being ripped from your chest. Holding Mina close—embracing her, seeing just how much she’s loving it. How thankful she is. Taking it all, soaking it all in, moans turning into whimpers that you’d swear are prayers of gratitude.

Body limp and strung out, fucked so hard she can’t even hold herself up anymore—Mina collapses into the bed, pulling you with her, your cock still buried deep inside her.

Like the first time, like every time, it’s a complete fucking disaster.

Tangled up in sheets, in each other. Sticky with sweat, stickier with cum. And Mina turns her head to look at you, just so pleased, and so gleefully satisfied.

You lean in and kiss her, slow and deep, resisting the urge to stir, to roll her onto her back and start this whole thing over again. Claim her once, twice, a dozen times more.

But you don’t. You just lay there, breathing into her neck, letting all of this, your orgasms, your bliss, your absolute contentment roll through you.

There’ll be time to keep going, to keep fucking her. Give her the same tour of your house that she gave you that first night.

Eat her out in the kitchen. Fuck her into the sofa. And yeah, introduce her to the balconies on the higher floors.

For now though, there’s Mina, lips parting with yours, looking at you with a smile that’s this original blend of lust and love and admiration. “You really know how to ruin a girl, you know that?”

You chuckle, picking a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. “Just trying to scratch an itch.”

—

Everybody loves a love story.

And yours is packaged up so nicely, polished and made shiny and perfect for the public to see.

It's the type of story the media dies for—a tale of modern romance, woven through the glitz and glamour of celebrity life. The cold-blooded billionaire who had his heart stolen by one of the nation’s daughters, and then chased her across continents in order to get it back.

You and Mina, becoming the ultimate power couple—the kind that makes the paparazzi's cameras click in unison and tabloids sell by the millions.

Together at every high-profile event, her hand nestled in the crook of your arm, your thumb tracing lazy circles on her wrist—a secret promise of the bruises she’ll wear under her designer dresses. A whispered reminder of the things you’ll do to her when the lights go out and the world isn’t watching.

But nobody sees that. The public sees the smiles, the kisses, the sweet little glances that pass between you—and they eat it all up.

They'll never see the way she begs for your cock, the way you fuck her until she can't walk straight, the way she rides you until all you know is her name. They don’t know that it wasn’t love at first sight—it was lust, paroxysms of it, pure and raw and unbridled.

But here you are.

Mina, in your bathroom, smiling at you through the mirror. Dressed to the nines, looking like a fucking dream. Making it so obvious now that you wonder how you missed it at the start. The way she looked at you that first night, the way she looked. It was all there, laid out in big bold letters, all caps, telling you that this is what you’ve been searching for—what you needed all along.

That dress she’s wearing—some dazzling shade of green. Olive? Celadon?

“Emerald,” she smiles, catching you staring. “It’s emerald, darling.”

You grin back. “Then it should match.”

Mina’s eyes flick to the box in your hand, curiosity piqued.

“Got you something.”

You hand her the box—a simple, muted green velvet, lacking any markers or logos to give away the contents. Ergo, it’s really fucking expensive.

She takes it out of your hands. Opens it, and her breath catches.

“It’s—” Mina whispers, lifting a necklace from the box. A simple, stunning piece. A thin diamond band with a solitary jade teardrop hanging from the center.

"Yours."

Mina holds it up against the light, seeing how it dances through the stone like it’s alive. When her eyes come back to yours, she’s beaming—a smile so wide it makes you wish you had your phone ready to snap a photo.

“Help a girl out, would you?” she says, turning her back to you, sweeping her hair over her bare shoulder.

You step forward, kissing the skin there, feeling the softness of her neck, the pulse of her vein. Your hands come up to fasten the necklace around her, the coldness of the diamonds brushing against your knuckles.

“You know, there’s one thing I was wondering about,” you murmur, letting the jade rest atop her throat.

Mina giggles, tilts her head slightly to the side. The jewels sparkle. “Oh?”

“That first night. The gala. You came alone.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Mina repeats, amused. Happy to have her own little secret, the one thing you've yet to pry out of her between the sheets. She regards you through the reflection, a twinkle in her eye that says she’s been wondering what took you so long to ask.

“Yeah, I’ve never quite figured it out. I mean I know why you were alone. But why did you come at all? What were you doing there, just sitting all pretty and by yourself. It felt so wrong to me at the time.”

That makes Mina laugh, making you feel somewhat silly to even ask. She spins on her heels, facing you; the necklace sitting perfectly against her skin. She runs her fingers over the chain, ending at the pendant. Tapping it. Once. Twice.

And she doesn’t even need to ask you if it looks good on her or if it suits her because she knows. She can tell by the look on your face.

She wears it like a fucking collar.

“Why?” Mina says again, stretching the syllable out long and wide, until you’re staring at her lips, knowing you’re about to kiss her again, knowing that you may very well not make it out of the house tonight, likely not even make it out of the bathroom.

You’ll be ruining that dress, fucking her against the sink, pushing her up into the mirror, kissing into the top of her spine and repeating over and over again—mine, mine, mine.

“Because you invited me.”

[gumii-bearr]

❝ you hitting on me? ❞

summary: megumi doesn't like clubs, but then he sees you.

featuring… megumi fushiguro

content warning: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, alt!megumi, piercings and tattoos, reader is a babe fr, pet names, car sex, rough sex, fingering, riding, dick piercing (what who said that??), teasing, edging, choking, crying (omg), spanking (a lil bit), unprotected sex (don’t do that!!!!!), bit of subspace??, alcohol mentioned, smoking mentioned (don’t smoke, it’s bad for you!), vaping mentioned, these two are so horny for each other like wtf

author’s note: this was a request by a lovely anon!!! ... also its 4k words

Megumi doesn’t like going out. It’s not his thing, really. He prefers to stay at home to play video games or be his own company, and if he has to be social he prefers a more intimate get together over… whatever the hell Yuji is dragging him along too. 

“Trust, it’ll be fun,” Yuji nudges Megumi’s shoulder lightly. Megumi keeps his hands stuffed in the pockets of his black hoodie, a resting annoyed expression plastered across his face. He’s not sure how Yuji roped him into coming to this gig, maybe it was because Megumi kind of owed Yuji for turning down hanging out with him for the past… many times. 

Megumi doesn’t respond, just wordlessly follows behind Yuji as he weaves through groups of people socialising, vaping and drinking outside the bar Megumi was conned into coming to.

Yuji mentioned something about his friend’s band playing at this bar tonight and there may have been mentions of meeting up with Nobara but Megumi kind of tuned him out after he started going on and on about how Megumi was being anti-social and bringing up the numerous times he cancelled on Yuji (it was a ploy to make him feel bad and it unfortunately worked).

The moment they walk down the graffitied hallway, Megumi is again reminded why he doesn’t like going out. The bar is packed with drunk people and it smells of alcohol and sweat. Megumi inwardly cringes at the whole atmosphere and nearly, nearly, spins on his heel and leaves when some drunk girl bumps into Megumi while giggling and slightly dry heaving.

Before Megumi can even make a comment, Yuji is grabbing his arm, “don’t be a party-pooper, Fushiguro, we haven’t even seen Nobara yet!”

“I didn’t say anything,” Megumi deadpans.

“Yeah, but your face said it all,” Yuji retorts, “come on!” Yuji tugs on his friend’s arm, dragging his friend toward the loud thumping music.

His head hurts already. The music is loud and the random LED lights flying over the crowd are bright and annoying. Megumi is annoyed, to be fair, he’s always slightly annoyed but right now it’s increased tenfold by the overstimulating nightmare that is this club.

Megumi doesn’t even know where Yuji is going. Yuji is staring at his phone, then looking around, then back at his phone again. He’s talking to Megumi but the music is so loud that Megumi doesn’t know what the hell he’s saying. 

“There she is!” okay, he caught that.

Yuji walks a little faster, Megumi attempting to weave through the crowd of people without touching anyone (it’s not working, he’s very uncomfortable). The crowd seems to dissipate as they reach the back of the club by the bar, numerous tables dotting the back wall. Megumi spots Nobara as she leaps up from the table, waving her arm around obnoxiously.

“Itadori!” she’s yelling and if Megumi knows anything about Nobara, it’s that her voice really carries. “Fushiguro!”

Megumi raises his hand from his pocket as a slight wave, his lips forming a tight line. Nobara is already shoving a drink into Yuji’s hand then reaching over to give one to Megumi, “dunno what it is but it’s getting me drunk!”

Megumi tunes out whatever Nobara is saying the moment he sees you. 

You’re chuckling as you watch Nobara and Yuji feed off of each other’s excitement. You’re holding a drink in your hand, absentmindedly swirling the ice around with your straw. 

You’re also trying to remain super nonchalant at the fact you’re totally checking out Yuji’s friend.

He looks completely uninterested in what’s happening, his tired eyes glancing at anything other than the social situation in front of him. His hair is messy and framing his gorgeous face. His hoodie sleeves are rolled up and your eyes trace down his veiny arms adorned with pretty tattoos all the way to his hands. He’s got a couple of nose piercings and an eyebrow piercing, his whole vibe is dark and brooding and you’re so into it.

Where the fuck has this cutie been?

“Y/N, this is my friend Fushiguro,” you sit up a little straighter at the mention of your name. Nobara tugs on Megumi’s arm bringing him closer to the bar table, “say hi, you emo bitch.”

Megumi eyes you and you have no idea what he’s thinking. “Uh, hey,” he says awkwardly. Oh god, he’s a dork. You must have him.

He’s remaining as poker-faced as possible as his eyes glance over you, from the fishnet stocking adorning your legs to the subtle colour of your glossed lips. You’re smiling at him softly through mascaraed lashes and he finds himself peeking down at your lips.

Megumi thinks you’re really pretty.

He mostly just listens as you, Nobara and Yuji talk about college and work, opting for tapping his finger against the glass in front of him. He likes the way you talk, hand gestures accompanying your enthusiastic ramble about your college degree. He also likes the way you laugh, though he finds himself becoming slightly annoyed by the fact that Yuji’s the one making you laugh. 

He decides he needs a smoke, his head is pounding from the loud music and the flashing lights; he needs a break.

Megumi gets up from his seat, nudging Yuji’s arm, “‘m just going out for a smoke.”

Yuji waves him off and Megumi sets off toward the smoking area outside the bar. It’s colder outside but god, it’s so much quieter, just the bustling of cars down the street and the occasional police siren. He pulls a cigarette out of his pocket, flicking his lighter and holding it to the end until the smoke fills his mouth. 

He leans against the wall, cigarette perched between his lips as he scrolls on his phone. He debates it for a while, but eventually gives in and searches your name up on instagram. He finds your account, noticing you’re already friends with Itadori. He scrolls through your posts, feeling like a fucking teenager stalking your social media–

“Fuck.”

Megumi’s eyes snap to you, now with an oversized leather jacket pulled around your shoulders as you rifle through your purse. There’s an unlit cigarette pressed between your glossy lips and your brows are furrowed.

Megumi fishes his lighter back out of his pocket, he walks over to you and nudges your arm, holding the lighter out for you.

You look up at him with your pretty eyes, a smile pulling at your lips, “thanks, Fushiguro.”

You take the lighter from his hand, attempting to flick the lighter to life to light your cigarette. You try a couple more times before Megumi chuckles softly, taking it from your smaller hands and lighting it the first try.

He wordlessly cups the end of your cigarette, shielding it from the wind as he lights your cigarette for you, his darker eyes flickering up to yours briefly. 

The two of you stand in silence for a moment before you speak.

“I like your tattoos,” you say sweetly.

“Hm?”

“Your tattoos, they’re cool,” you repeat with a soft chuckle.

“Oh, thank you,” Megumi replies, absentmindedly running a hand along his inked arm. He feels his heart race a little when you reach a manicured hand out and run your finger along the dragon twisting around his forearm.

“Nobara told me you weren’t much of a talker,” you say, your smaller hand still fiddling with his larger more angular hands as you admire his tattoos. It’s strangely intimate of you to touch him in such a way.

“You talked about me?” Megumi teases, taking another drag from his cigarette with a smirk tugging at his lips.

“All good things, don’t worry,” you retort, finally letting go of his arm to bring your cigarette back up to your lips.

“Didn’t take you for a smoker.”

“Trying to quit, just smoke when I drink,” you shrug. You sigh then turn your head to face him, you look him up and down, “you got a girlfriend?”

Megumi lets out a laugh, coughing slightly on the smoke still swirling around in his chest, “no, why?”

You grin, “‘m hitting on you.”

“Oh, you are, are you?” Megumi presses.

“You’re pretty cute,” you shrug.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Megumi asks, turning his head to blow the smoke away from you.

“No, no boyfriend… why? Are you hitting on me?” You ask curiously with a shit-eating grin plastered across your pretty glossy lips. 

Megumi looks at you and the two of you hold eye contact for a moment. His eyes flicker to your lips briefly before he squashes out the rest of his cigarette, “I’ll buy you a drink.”

“So you are hitting on me,” you tease.

Megumi takes the cigarette from your fingers, stealing your last puff and inwardly beaming at the cherry flavour of your lip gloss before squashing it out for you, “I’m buying you a drink.”

Megumi does indeed buy you a drink, bringing it back to the table for you, even getting you a straw.

“Thank you, Fushiguro,” you smile sweetly.

“Megumi is fine,” he says, pulling his chair out to sit next to you.

You suppress a smile, “okay, Megumi.”

The both of you miss as Yuji reluctantly slips Nobara some cash. 

The two of you talk all night. Megumi is a little more laid back after you manage to get two drinks into him. The time slips away from you and you find yourself not even interested in what Nobara and Yuji are talking about as you talk to Megumi. 

Megumi lets you toy with his fingers, your nails dragging along his tattooed hand and up his arm. You suddenly grow curious, wondering if he’s got any other tattoos underneath his clothes, you feel like a bit of a perv coming onto this guy you just met, but you’re so drawn to him and he seems to be just as into you.

You catch Megumi’s eyes drifting down to your tits before he quickly clears his throat to answer whatever question you asked him. You think it’s cute and you decide to tease him a little by wriggling a little closer to him, your fishnet-clad thigh pressing against his. 

He knows what you’re doing and he’s not even mad about it. He lets you laugh and hang off him, lets you toy with the hem of his hoodie sleeves and lets you bump shoulders with him. In all honesty, he lets you because you’re hot and you’re into him.

“God, it’s so late,” Nobara sighs, wincing at the brightness of her phone.

Megumi checks his own phone; 12:54am. God, it is late.

“Open your phone,” you mutter, your chin resting on his shoulder.

“Why?”

“Just open your phone,” you giggle.

He does as you say and he nearly has a fucking heart attack when his phone opens to your Instagram that he was totally not stalking just a few hours ago.

“Fuck,” he knows he’s caught red-handed when you start to laugh softly, his hand falling slack in his lap.

“Aw, you’re stalking me, Gumi?” 

Megumi feels his chest tighten at the little nickname and he rolls his eyes but doesn’t offer any kind of explanation as he hands you his phone to do whatever it is you wanted to do.

You scroll to his contacts, quickly putting your name and number in his phone (you also make sure to follow your Instagram from his phone) before clicking it shut and handing it back to him. 

“Don’t forget to call me, kay?” you give him the prettiest doe eyes and quickly stand up, grabbing your jacket to join Nobara as she leaves. “It was nice to meet you, Megumi.”

He sits there dumbfounded as you and Nobara leave, he watches your back, watching your little skirt ride up over your ass a bit as you walk away. Fucking hell.

“Dude!” Yuji nudges his arm, “you got her number!”

“Shut up,” Megumi retorts.

“Told you you’d have fun.”

“Shut up!”

Megumi shoves a laughing Yuji away as he reaches for his own stuff to leave. The club is mostly empty by now, Megumi not realising how much time they’d spent here because he was so fucking distracted by you.

He and Yuji go to leave when Megumi notices your purse is still hanging over your chair. He quickly grabs it, scanning the crowd with his tall frame in hopes you’re still hanging around. You’re not, so he quickly pulls on Yuji to catch you before you go. Not that you’ll get far without your keys.

-

“Fuck,” you stand by your car and realise you left your purse in the club. You’re almost two blocks away from said club and Nobara has already left, leaving you somewhat stranded. You sigh, pulling your phone out of your pocket to text Nobara and ask her to turn around and take you home because you’re too tired and your feet hurt too much to walk all the way back.

“Hey, Y/N,” you perk up at the sound of your name, spinning on your heel and watching as Megumi catches up to you, your purse slung over his shoulder.

“Oh fuck, thank you!” you sigh with relief as Megumi hands you back your purse. You fish through your purse for your keys, “did Yuji drive you?”

“Yeah, but he’s already left,” he says.

You give him a look, “he has, huh?”

“Thought I could drive you… since you’ve had a couple,” Megumi tilts his head at you and you grin knowingly.

“What a gentleman,” you tease. “My place or yours?” you joke.

Megumi just looks at you and there’s a thick tension hanging in the air. He suddenly surges forward, capturing your pretty glossy lips in a hard kiss.

You kiss him back almost instantly, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck. Even with heels on, Megumi is taller than you and you have to arch your back to catch his slightly chapped lips as he leans over you, his large hands landing on your waist to pull your hips against his.

“Here’s fine,” he mutters against your lips with a cheeky smirk, you can only laugh softly as one of his tattooed hands comes up to hold the back of your head, forcing you to deepen the kiss.

He forces his tongue into your mouth and you whine softly. He tastes of tobacco and spiced rum and it makes you fucking dizzy. You thread your fingers through his messy black hair, tugging on it as he moves you to press your back against the cold car window.

“You bring my purse all the way here just to kiss me?” You quirk a brow at him, panting slightly.

“Maybe,” he grins, trailing his lips down your jaw to your neck. “You leave your purse on purpose so I’d bring it to you?”

“Maybe.” 

Megumi’s hands trail down your waist to your ass, gently kneading the soft flesh over your tiny skirt. Your pretty nails push up the hem of his hoodie, feeling up his toned as fuck abs that tense slightly under your touch.

He kisses you again, his thumb coming to rest on your throat as his fingers squeeze slightly, god you really want him to choke you while he fucks you–

“Unlock the car, Y/N,” he says against your ear, his voice low and sexy. 

You pull your keys out of your purse and unlock your car (you’re lucky your car is parked in the dark at the back of the parking lot). 

You clamber over each other in the backseat until you’re straddling Megumi’s lap, your fingers in his hair once again while he kisses and sucks on your neck. His hands knead your ass, his fingers slipping down to lift your tiny skirt over your ass.

“Mm, touch me, Gumi,” you whine against his ear.

Megumi smiles against your neck before pulling away from you. You whine a little at the loss of contact but he quickly kisses you again, one of his hands snaking up the bottom of your top to grope your tits. You hold his hand over your top, forcing him to squeeze your soft skin.

You let out a soft moan at the feeling of his cold rings nipping at your hot skin. You grind your hips down against his, feeling his bulge rub against your wet panties. He groans at the feeling, his free hand curling into the plush skin of your ass before he reels it back to deliver a smack! to your ass.

You moan at the slight sting, hands holding Megumi’s face to kiss him as he forces your hips to grind against his hard-on.

“You’ve been teasing me all night,” Megumi pants against your lips.

“I just wanted you t’fuck me,” you retort playfully.

“Such a slut,” he kneads your ass again before reaching his hand down further to run his middle finger across your slit over your panties. “Someone’s excited, hm?”

“Shut up,” you whine as he traces his finger over your clothed clit. You curl your fists into the fabric of his hoodie, moaning against his shoulder as he presses his finger a little harder against your clit.

He suddenly reaches both hands down, ripping apart your fishnets for better access. He pulls your pretty lacy panties aside, the pad of his finger prodding at your soaked hole. He traces his fingertip around the opening, chuckling as you whine and hump his lap looking for friction.

“Don’t tease me,” you grumble.

“You’re so cute when you’re needy,” he teases. You pout and he chuckles, pressing a wet kiss to your lips as he plunges his finger into your awaiting heat. 

You moan at the feeling, pressing your face into his shoulder as he pumps his middle finger into your tight cunt. You’re so fucking tight and you’re only taking a finger– he can only imagine how heavenly you would feel wrapped around his cock.

Your little hand presses against the buckle of his belt and Megumi delivers another hard smack! to your reddened ass. You moan out again, your trembling hands clutching his hoodie.

“So fucking impatient,” Megumi presses a second finger into your cunt, peering over your shoulder and watching as your slick starts to coat his palm and probably his clothed thigh.

“Mm, hah–” you sigh, feeling as Megumi scissors your poor little cunt open, his fingers prodding and curling against the spongy spot inside you. Your pussy makes lewd squelches as Megumi fucks his fingers into you. You grind your hips against his hard cock in his boxers, the friction rubbing your poor neglected clit.

You feel your lower belly start to burn as you whine and hump against Megumi’s clothed cock, your hole beginning to tighten and spasm around his fingers.

Megumi suddenly pulls his fingers from your soaked little pussy. You let out a frustrated whine as the burn in your belly subsides and you pant against Megumi’s neck. 

His fingers prod at your lips without warning and you open your mouth just slightly and he forces his fingers into your mouth, pressing down on your cute little tongue.

You suck on his fingers, your smaller hand curling around his wrist as you make cute little noises. Megumi kisses your temple before his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, “I want you to cum on my cock… can you do that f’me, baby?”

You nod your head quickly.

“Words, baby,” he coos, his hand kneading over the harsh red welt blooming on your ass. 

“Mhm… I can do it,” you pant, a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin. “Please.”

Megumi’s hand reaches for his belt buckle, quickly undoing his belt and unzipping his pants. If he wasn’t so impatient, he would have taken you home and had you spread your legs for him to fuck you with his tongue and his fingers. Then he would have forced you onto your knees and fucked your face until you cried before he put his dick anywhere near your cunt.

But this is just as good.

Megumi pulls his cock from his boxers, groaning as he pumps himself a few times. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at the sheer size of him, but also the fact that underneath the pink head of his cock is a little silver barbell. 

“You got a condom, baby?

“N-No,... you have your dick pierced?”

Megumi almost forgets he has it half the time, “yeah… feels good, don’t worry.”

You bite your lip, suddenly a little jealous of how he exactly figured out his piercing felt good. Megumi notices your flushed face and the way you chew on your lip. His large hand gently cups your face, forcing you to look at him so he can press a soft kiss to your lips.

He reaches for your hand, bringing it down to wrap around his hard cock. It’s heavy in your hand and you gently squeeze, jerking him off.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Megumi kisses at your skin, “promise ‘m gonna take you on a date tomorrow.”

You giggle at his attempt to make you feel better, “you better, cus if you’re gonna fuck me raw you better buy me dinner.”

Megumi chuckles through a low groan, grabbing your wrist and forcing you to stop squeezing and jerking him off because if you keep doing it he’s gonna cum like a teenager because you’re the prettiest fucking girl he’s ever seen and now you’re on top of him with your top pushed over your pretty tits and your pussy waiting for him.

Megumi kisses you again, his tongue pressing against yours as you lift yourself up a little, your hand wrapping around the base of Megumi’s big fucking cock to line him up with your sopping hole. 

Megumi’s hands land on your hips, his dark eyes meeting yours as his tip prods as your hole. You feel his piercing catch on the outside of your hole and you tip your head back and moan as you sink down, Megumi peppering kisses across your tits as he helps you lower yourself down on his cock.

You’re so fucking tight around him when he finally bottoms out, your pussy wrapped so snug, pulsing slightly as you pant and moan.

“S’big, Gumi,” you whine.

“I’ll be gentle,” he says as he lifts your hips, slowly pulling you back down on his cock. “You gotta help me out, princess.”

You pant, only just noticing how foggy your windows are. The two of you are coated in a thin sheen of sweat and you lean back, planting your hands on the tops of Megumi’s knees so you can bounce on his cock.

You start off slow before you get lost in the feeling of his cock and the piercing dragging against your tight walls. Megumi’s hands bruise your hips as he helps you bounce on his cock, his eyes unable to look away from where your pussy sucks in his cock.

Your slick is forming a white ring around the base of his cock, your wetness dripping down the inside of your thighs and down onto his pants. You’re fucked stupid on his dick as you babble and moan incoherently, unable to stop bouncing as you chase your orgasm.

You pull almost all the way off his dick before forcing yourself back down, your eyes screwing shut at the feeling of his cock kissing your cervix. Megumi’s hand presses against the slight bulge in your tummy, the feeling making you fucking dizzy.

“Harder, please Gumi, fuck me harder,” you cry out, your finger sinking down between your thighs to rub circles on your clit. 

Megumi feels like he gets harder at the nickname, “fuck, baby,” he coos, his hands bruising your hips as he bullies your cunt, the tip of his cock bruising your poor cervix. One of Megumi’s hands wraps around your throat, squeezing on your pretty neck. You choke on your own moans as your orgasm nears.

“I’m gonna– Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you cry, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, mixing with your mascara and slipping down your pretty cheeks.

You feel your belly start to burn and your nails scratch at Megumi’s forearms as he lets go of your neck to press his own thumb against your sensitive little clit, forcing your orgasm out of you.

You cry when you feel the coil in your belly snap, your cunt spasming around Megumi’s cock and gushing around him.

“That’s it, princess. Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he eggs you on, your legs shaking at the feeling of your orgasm crashing into you. “You’re so tight, baby.”

You don’t respond, your vision turning white as your cunt clamps down on him. Megumi groans and grunts at the feeling, bouncing your hips on his lap and using your fucked out body to chase his own orgasm.

Megumi’s cock twitches inside you and you just whine and cry as he pumps you full of his cum, thick white ropes painting your insides. He forces your hips down onto his cock, finally ceasing his movements and just panting, attempting to catch his breath.

Your body shakes and you mewl softly, babbling incoherently. Megumi coos, pulling you against his chest and running a hand down your back to bring you back to earth, “shh, shh, you’re okay.”

“Mhm,” you hum.

“Too much?” he asks, petting your hair and kissing the crown of your head.

You shake your head, “best sex of my life,” you sigh.

Megumi chuckles, his hand gently rubbing up and down your back, his other hand fixing your shirt back over your boobs. “I’ll take you home now, kay?”

“You gonna stay?” you ask, peering up at him with a fucked out expression and dried mascara stuck to your cheeks.

“You want me to?” he smiles.

You nod, “mhm… otherwise how will you make me breakfast?”

Megumi laughs, lifting your head to press kisses to your face. 

After a moment longer, Megumi lifts you off of his softening dick, his cum leaking from your abused little hole. You sigh at the empty feeling, your thighs aching from the stretch. Megumi fixes your panties back into place, pressing another kiss to your forehead.

He manages to carry you and put you into the passenger seat, fastening your seatbelt for you before starting up your car and actually driving you home–

“Wait, where the hell am I going?”

You can only tiredly giggle from the passenger seat.

author's note: YEESH! i need a cold ass shower. dunno how i feel about it but!!! it’s here!!!

[sturnsbae]

SPIN YOU AROUND - JACK HUGHES

summary: you and jack have been best friends since childhood. you’ve both always had suppressed feelings for one another, but when you suddenly become a country music fan, he finds his chance to actually confess.

warnings: use of y/n & underage drinking, not proofread sorry if there’s typos or mistakes :)

wordcount: 3.4k

—

for as long as you can remember, you’ve been best friends with the hughes brothers.

your moms were best friends in high school, and they always talked about their kids being friends growing up. your mom only ended up having one child, but it worked out perfectly seeing that she had a girl and ellen had three boys. despite her best friend playing it, your mom never cared much for hockey. but ellen made sure to have her sons teach you how to skate and how to understand the game. this led to your winter breaks always being spent playing pond hockey in a 2v2 game against the boys, which you wouldn’t have changed for the world.

you and jack are the same age, and this always made you two closer. maybe it was because you two somehow always ended up with the same elementary school teachers, or the fact that you two have the exact same humor, or maybe the fact that you guys have always had mutual friends. It doesn’t matter; he was your best friend, and you were his. although, you both took very different routes when you turned 18. he went straight to the nhl while you began college at penn state. you’re nineteen now, and so is jack. it’s finally the summer after your first semester, and you haven’t seen the boys since winter break.

as you and your parents enter the front door of your guys’ shared lake house, you smile at the familiar smell of ellen’s homemade cookies. “god it smells good in here!” you exclaim, making your presence known. “hey! you guys made it!” quinn smiles as he walks over from the dining room table towards you guys. being the gentleman that he is, he embraces your mother in a hug before anyone. luke quickly jumps off of the couch and runs over, picking you up slightly as he embraces you in a warm hug. your laughter fills the room as luke puts you down back on your feet.

“i swear, you get taller every time i see you,” you chuckle, making luke roll his eyes with a smile.

“maybe you’re just shrinking, y/n,” he shrugs before walking over to hug your parents. quinn walks over to you with a smile and gently hugs you, unlike his youngest brother. you say your hellos to jim and ellen as your dad and quinn bring in the suitcases. you furrow your brows and turn to luke, “where’s jack?” you ask.

“i think he’s in the shower, he should be out soon though,” luke shrugs before looking back down at his phone with a smile. of course, he’s probably texting a girl from school. you chuckle to yourself before walking to your room to settle in. as you walk past the shared bathroom between you, jack, and luke, you hear the shower running and muffled country music playing through the door.

you begin unpacking your suitcase, your door left open just slightly enough so that you can see the hallway. as you’re unfolding clothes, the sound of the bathroom door opening catches your attention. you look up and see jack walking out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist. clearly, he has no idea that you’re home yet.

you can’t help but stare for a second… when did his back muscles get so toned?

you immediately shake your thoughts and continue unfolding your clothes. about three or so minutes later, there’s a gentle knock on the door. you look up and see jack in the door frame with his usual smirk-like smile.

“thought you could come home and not say hi to me?” he questions, making you roll your eyes and jump off the bed to wrap the boy in a hug. his arms wrap your smaller frame in a tight hug, his body still damp from the shower and the smell of his body wash emitting off of him.

“how’ve you been, dork?” he asks, walking in your room and sprawling out on your bed. you sit down criss cross by his feet, organizing your bikini tops to their matching bottoms.

“i’ve been good! how’s the nhl life?” you tease.

“eh, i’ve been playing alright. i’m kinda offended you haven’t been to a game since my debut, though,” he jokes, raising one eyebrow.

you groan in response, “i know, im sorry. schools been so insane. i have so much to do for my sorority, i have like a million sporting events to go to, and i have so many tests too… i just haven’t found the time. next season ill be at more games, i promise” you smile.

“hey, it’s okay, i’m just messing with you, y/n/n. i know you’re a busy girl, being all studious or whatever,” he chuckles before looking down at his phone. you two then sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes as you finish unpacking.

—

you’ve done a lot of catching up with ellen and jim, all 8 of you sitting in the living room discussing the causal things. your mom and ellen spill their adult-life gossip, as if they don’t talk every day and meet for lunch once a week, while your dads talk about god knows what. you and quinn chirp luke about whoever he’s been texting, while jack is more focused on whatever video game he’s playing on his phone.

“jack, do you think you could go get us some pizza for dinner?” ellen asks, the room going quiet and the attention now falling onto jack.

“ugh, why can’t quinn go!” jack questions. ellen laughs, “you’re the one who insisted on bringing your jeep! you brought your car, which you never let anyone else drive, so now you have the duties of getting us dinner.”

“fine,” he groans before turning to look at you, a hopeful look in his eyes. you sigh loudly and stand up dramatically, “fine, i’ll come with you.” he grins cheesily as he grabs his keys and twirls them in his fingers on the way out to his car.

“can i have aux, pleaseeee,” you beg, making your hands look like you’re praying and giving him puppy dog eyes. he rolls his eyes and hands you his phone, “no stupid shit or ill take it back.”

jack is a country guy through and through, which you’ve never really gotten into, so you two tend to fight a lot about music. of course there are some songs and genres that you two both like, but when you put on some morgan wallen, jack looks at you like you just told him you killed someone.

“what the fuck? you- you’re- you’re willingly playing country music?!” he exclaims as he turns to look at you with a shocked expression. you have a shit eating grin on your face, “yeah, my roommate actually got me into it. i don’t know how, but she did.”

jack feigns a look of sadness, “oh, so some random girl you meet at college can get you into country, but the kid who’s been trying to get you to listen to it for like 12 years can’t?!”

you throw your head back laughing, “hey! in my defense, i was never stuck in a small room for an entire semester of college with you. of course i got her into some taylor swift though, don’t you worry. it’s only fair,” you shrug. he rolls his eyes at you jokingly before mumbling something about how you’re a fake friend, causing you to hit his arm playfully.

—

after dinner passes and the parents settle in for a movie night, you and the boys head outside for the annual first-night fire pit and beers, which started when you and jack were about 17. you and jack grab the s’mores ingredients while luke and quinn set up the fire pit. you take your seat around the fire, with luke and quinn sat across from you and jack on your right. quinn then hands everyone, even luke, a beer, making you chuckle.

“aww, lukeys first beer at the fire pit with us,” you fawn, making everyone laugh. “okay okay shut up,” the younger boy groans, his cheeks turning faintly florid with embarrassment.

“so, mrs party girl, tell us how college has been,” quinn says, roasting his marshmallow to perfection. you blush faintly at the sudden attention, humming a little as you think of what to start with. “well, my sorority is great. i love my roommate too, she’s like my best friend now. no offense jack, you’re still important i swear,” you chuckle, turning to look at jack. he flips you off before letting you continue to talk about your first semester.

“oh and, this shook jack to his core, but my roommate got me into country music. i don’t know how, im seriously convinced she put a spell on me or something, but she succeeded.”

luke’s eyes widen, “you like country now?! you used to swear up and down that you hated it!” he exclaims.

“i know! i know, but somehow she got me into it. or well, at least morgan wallen, that’s it. some country artists music i still can’t stand, i promise,” you laugh.

“i feel like this deserves a toast or something, because now we can finally listen to country on the boat without any complaints from her,” jack teases. everyone holds up their beer and takes a sip, before continuing on with the conversation. about an hour passes and the sun is completely down as you all still laugh loudly, faces illuminated by the orange glow of the fire.

you yawn, snuggling further into your sweatshirt. which is actually one of jacks old sweatshirts from high school. the logo is somewhat faded and cracked now due to how often you wear it, but he doesn’t need to know that. “you tired?” jack asks you, leaning over his chair slightly to talk to you.

you nod slowly, a telltale sign that you’re about to fall asleep. he sets down his beer and stands up, reaching out his hands for you to grab. you sigh and take his hands in yours as he helps you up. “i’m gonna take this one to bed. i can tell she’s had too many beers,” he chuckles.

“i have not!” you protest, your worlds slurred ever so slightly. jack just chuckles and walks you inside as quinn and luke are left to clean up the mess.

“they’re bound to get together one day, right?” luke asks his eldest brother.

“man, i hope so. im tired of this whole, ‘she’s just my best friend’ act. dude is whipped,” quinn shrugs. meanwhile, jack is sitting on the bathroom counter while you take off your makeup.

“you what?!” he exclaims.

“i kissed a random frat guy at a mixer with my sorority. it’s not that big of a deal jack!” you laugh, and jack just shakes his head. honestly, he would be lying if this didn’t make him feel oddly jealous. he’s so used to always knowing the guys that are involved in your love life. like for example, he was there during the alcohol induced game of truth or dare where you were dared to kiss trevor. you guys were 16 and drunk, so of course it never bothered jack. but now, he feels a weird pang of jealousy knowing that you’ve kissed another guy and he’s never even met him.

despite the fact that you’ve never talked to the frat guy since the kiss happened, jack still finds himself laying in bed scrolling through his instagram. “jesus christ, why don’t my abs look like that?” he mumbles to himself, quickly realizing how dumb he must seem right now. he puts his phone down and sighs.

this is gonna be a long summer.

—

the next morning is filled with laughter as the parents cook up breakfast, while you and the boys sit at the table with a deck of cards, playing your favorite game, BS.

“bs!” you call out as quinn puts down his alleged ‘two-fours,’ which you know is false because you literally have three fours in your stack. he groans in defeat as he takes the pile of cards, “you’re too good at this game. it’s no fun playing with you,” he whines, making everyone laugh.

“maybe you’re just a shit liar,” you shrug. as if on queue, the food is placed down in front of you guys as the parents take their seats. you all make your plates, of course the boys grab the most out of everyone. you chuckle looking at the two pancakes and two pieces of bacon on your plate, compared to jacks which has four pancakes and five pieces of bacon, along with a heavy stack of scrambled eggs.

“greedy much?” you chuckle, nudging jack slightly. he flips you off as he stuffs his face with food. a muffled, “i’m a growing boy, i can’t help it!” falls from his lips, making everyone chuckle.

after breakfast is finished, your guys’ parents go out for the day, leaving you all to fend for yourselves for entertainment. quinn suggests going out on the boat for the day, which you all agree with. you head upstairs to your room, slipping on your favorite bikini and grabbing a sweatshirt and sunglasses. you grab a book just incase, but you know that you’re definitely not gonna end up reading it.

“hurry up, y/n!” luke yells, making you groan in annoyance as you close the bedroom door.

“shut up luke, im coming i’m coming,” you say as you walk down the steps. you and luke walk side by side to the dock, where jack and quinn are getting the boat prepared. jack, per usual, demands that he get aux, and you all know better than to argue with him about it.

he queues up his country playlist, as expected. you chuckle a little as you hum a long to a few songs while quinn slowly exits the no-wake zone. about three minutes or so later, quinn speeds up the boat and your hair is flying. laughter escapes your lips as you look over at jack, who’s sitting next to you. “god i’ve missed this!” you say, making him smile and wrap an arm around you slightly.

he rests his head on top of yours, “i’ve missed you,” he says. this type of behavior is normal for you two, so quinn and luke don’t even bat an eyelash.

you guys come to a slow stop before luke throws the large tube out onto the water. him and jack get on it and grab the handles, laying down on their stomachs waiting for quinn to speed up. “everyone ready?” quinn asks, earning a “hell yeah!” and a “hurry up!” from the two boys. he looks at you and nods before speeding up. suddenly, the raft goes flying and they last a whopping twenty seconds before they both let go and belly flop into the water. you and quinn erupt into a fit of laughter, grabbing your stomachs in pain and wiping the tears that are falling.

“holy shit, are you guys okay?!” you ask, still calming your laughter as they climb back onto the boat. jack groans slightly as he rubs his now red stomach, giving you a perfect excuse to stare. you bite the inside of your cheek as he rubs up and down his abs with his hand in an attempt to soothe the pain, blissfully unaware that his entire vline is showing. he fixes his shorts and you quickly look away after you realize you’re staring, and thankfully he doesn’t notice.

“your turn y/n!” he smiles menacingly, and you quickly shake your head.

“absolutely not! personally, i don’t have a death wish today, thanks though!” you exclaim, immediately grabbing your book from your bag. “you’re so lame y/n,” he pouts before sitting down next to you and rubbing a towel in his hair to dry it.

you can’t help but slyly glance at his biceps, when the fuck did he get this hot?

suddenly, ‘spin you around’ by morgan wallen begins playing and you jump up with a smile. “i fucking love this song!” you say, immediately singing along as the words begin playing.

yes, you’re a few white claws in at this point, but you’re also just happy to be with the people you love. you’re dancing around on the boat singing the words, and jack is looking at you like he just fell in love. his smile is big and his eyes are glued to you, watching you dance and sing like a crazy person, yet he’s not judging you. far from it, actually. he thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen, and the fact you’re in a bikini isn’t helping either.

he chuckles to himself and pulls the beer bottle to his lips, admiring the smile on your face and the way your cheeks are flushed from the sun.

—

the house is quiet since everyone is taking a nap or just resting from the long day out. you’re currently sat on the dock, playing some music from your phone and watching the water ripple from the slight breeze. the sun is approaching the horizon and you’re cuddled into the same sweatshirt from last night, the one jack gave you when you were 15.

suddenly, footsteps appear behind you and you turn around to see jack. “you okay?” he asks, sitting down next to you. “yeah, just got bored,” you shrug, turning down the music slightly. he smiles at the sight of you in his sweatshirt.

“watcha thinking about?” he asks.

“everything, really,” you pause. “i mean, isn’t it crazy how you and quinn are in the nhl, im in college, and lukeys already seventeen? i can still vividly remember when we were seventeen spending summers here, and talking about where we would end up for college. you were listing off your offers with no idea that you’d go first overall, while i was stressing about my common app,” you chuckle.

he smiles softly at the memory, “yeah, i miss those days honestly. i kinda wish i got the chance to go to college. it seems fun. maybe one day you can take me to a frat party,” he says before nudging your shoulder with his. you giggle slightly, “frats are gross and dirty, you’d hate it.”

“eh, maybe i would, but at least i get to spend time with you,” he shrugs. your cheeks run hot at his words, was he just being nice or was he flirting? you couldn’t tell, and the moment fell silent.

“i miss you, y/n. i miss living three blocks away from you. its so weird being in different states. and like, now you have all of these friends that i’ve never even heard of before. it’s really weird,” jack admits. your stomach turns with butterflies at his words, and you turn to look at him, praying the heat in your cheeks isn’t visible.

“i miss you too, rowdy. it’s hard being away from my best friend.” he rolls his eyes at the nickname but bites back a smile. as if on queue, spin you around by morgan wallen begins playing through your phone speaker. your face lights up, and jack suddenly gets an idea. “c’mere,” he says, forcing you to stand up. you furrow your brows before suddenly he starts singing along to the words softly, and you follow suit.

jacks heart is racing, but he knows that if he doesn’t confess his feelings soon enough, he’ll never do it. he takes your hands in his and sings along to the lyrics, “well you might tell me ‘boy hell nah,’ but hell what can hurt?”

you giggle as he takes your hands and spins you while singing, “cause i just wanna spin you ‘round, and ‘round this dance floor, get you drunk on a love like mine… might wind up and steal a couple kisses…” the rest of the words that jack sings along to fade as your heart thumps in your chest. he spins you gently around and then pulls you into his chest, looking down at you.

“cause the way you stole my heart without a sign, girl it outta be a crime,” he says softly. you’re wrapped in his arms looking up at him, a soft smile plastered on your lips and a heavy blush on your cheeks. “is it bad that i really want to kiss you?” you whisper, and jack grins like the happiest man on earth.

“i’ve wanted to kiss you for as long as i’ve known you,” jack quietly replies, his hands finding their way to the small of your back.

as the sky is painted with faint hints of pink and gold, jacks lips find yours for the first time in nineteen years.

[smurphette98]

So, I did this not with a villain, but with an NPC from a D&D campaign I’m running on a day where the group didn’t meet. It’s under the cut if you wanna give it a read!

(CW: discussion of death, resurrection, the afterlife, and murder)

Subreddit: r/relationshipadvice

Title: I haven’t seen my husband in 5 years (because I was dead) and I just found out that he left our daughter with his mother for that whole time.

Posted by u/Lovemordian

Apologies in advance if my Common isn’t great; it isn’t my first language.

I (21F) was recently resurrected by a party member of my husband’s (now 26M) after dying in his arms five years ago. Admittedly, the experience was wonderful, since I had always hoped that magic was real and not just the stuff of children’s stories, and I am not upset at living once more. The afterlife is…well, it’s beyond what I need to discuss here.

The issue I am having is this: while I was dead, I was comforted in the knowledge that our daughter (now 8F) was not going to grow up completely parentless even if I could not be with her. However, when I saw her again after returning to life, she mentioned that her grandmother, my husband’s mother, had been caring for her this whole time. She did not grow up with her father, and the one thought that had kept me sane while wandering the fields of the waiting became a lie.

He says that he left her behind with his parents to ensure that no one would use her to pressure him, that the Flesh Collectors wouldn’t use her as bait to get to him. Though I understand the logic of this, I can’t help but feel a bit disappointed. It feels like he’s trying to be the man he was 5 years ago, but I know he’s gone through much in my absence and I wish he would just be honest with me about it. Does anyone have any advice for how to talk to him about this? In some ways, it does feel a bit as if I’m approaching him as a stranger once more.

Update: Thank you to all who replied with your advices and your recommendations. I do want to answer a few of the questions I saw most frequently:

1) Apparently, he tried to avenge my murder after the judge had been paid off, stealing a highly advanced prototypical weapon designed by a classmate of ours (27 NB) to do it. This is why the Flesh Collectors were after him and why he apparently joined a guild for thieves and assassins that, if I understood him right, was run by a staff member at the university? I don’t know; he seems more comfortable speaking Common than Lamordian, so I may be misunderstanding things.

2) Flesh Collectors are sort of like a police force, but more than anything they are scavengers who harvest body parts that scientists need for their work. The “ethical” ones wait until a body is dead to harvest. The majority of them are not ethical.

Now, onto the update: I had the open conversation with my husband that so many of you recommended. I just asked him to tell me what kinds of things had happened while I was dead, and he was honest with me, just as I always remember him being.

While he was on the run for his vengeance, he fell in with the guild I mentioned and did “less than honorable things” to put aside money for our daughter’s future. At first, I thought he was implying that he had sold intimate favors, but he clarified that it was killing people. He did put aside quite a bit, over 10,000 gp, so I do think it was well-meant. And our daughter seems to hold no resentment toward him, so I don’t suppose I should either. For anyone out there who has been resurrected after a while, is this distance I’m feeling just a symptom of that, or is it something I should be concerned about? Perhaps I should speak to my mother-in-law, as she has always been a source of wisdom in my life. I don’t think I will need to update further, but if more developments happen, I will be sure to let you all know.

if you're trying to get into the head of your story's antagonist, try writing an "Am I the Asshole" reddit post from their perspective, explaining their problems and their plans for solving them. Let the voice and logic come through.

[cloudwisp]

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 · (𝐡𝐢𝐬) 𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤

contents: fluff. early twenties + first year of marriage. found family. gojo’s entire day shifts when you forget to wear your wedding ring. 900 wc.

“Eehh—?” You can faintly hear the noise Satoru let out coming from your shared bedroom, and you know he’d approach you about the situation sooner or later. You remain seated in bated breath as he stands with rounded shoulders before your dresser, cerulean hues staring down at your jewelry ceramic tray. And unmistakably there sits a wedding band with a large gemstone glinting at him under the warmth of the golden rays filtering through the curtains. He had a strong feeling there was a reason for his off-morning and this must’ve been it.

A noticeable pout rests on his lower lip and his hands are shoved in the pockets of his sorcerer’s uniform as he slowly climbs down the stairs. You glance over your shoulder from the couch with Tsumiki seated with her legs folded under her while you finish off her braid, and he looks like a kicked puppy the closer he treads. With a small pat on the young girl’s head, you send her to find her brother in his bedroom for breakfast.

“Oh good morning, baby. Why the long face, hm?” You shift your body toward him with an unperturbed smile, but Satoru sulks where he settles on the couch beside you in a manspread. “I’m almost certain I didn’t forget your morning kisses this time, even gave you more than plenty to last the day. Might I add the extra five or was it fifteen minutes of cuddling you so insisted on.” You tease with a gentle poke to his cheek, but nothing seems to be budging him and you think something terrible has happened. Though your husband’s jutted pout is adorable enough to maintain a lighthearted mood.

“No, but you did forget something.” Satoru sighs with a small shake of his head, letting on a weight of seriousness that makes you breathe out a curious ‘oh?’ at what that could be. With a tilt of your head, you watch his movements as he reveals the wedding ring he proposed to you with from the depths of his pocket. He twirls the silver band between his fingers and relief washes over you because you genuinely thought you had done something grave. “Found it on your jewelry dish. Don’t forget to wear it, princess.”

“Ah, so that's what’s bothering you.�� You soften as your head leans against him with your arm looping around his, your left hand coming up so he can slip it back onto your finger. He does so with delicate care, and you offer him an explanation of taking it off before showering while he went for a run because you were afraid it'd fall down into the drain and forgot to put it back on. With having two pre-teenagers taken under both your wings, it’s easy to neglect these small details but you have noted to be more mindful next time.

Satoru hums with a chaste kiss on your forehead, intertwining your fingers together in a sweet hold as his thumb brushes against your skin. “Just don’t want anyone else to think you’re up for grabs. It’s not me who gets all the attention when we’re out together, you know.” He can perfectly recall those encounters where not only random strangers would make advances on you, but also cute grannies wanting to set you up with their grandson. He’s gone for one minute to collect your favorite snacks and you’re not how he left you when he returns.

“Oh Satoru, you still haven’t gotten over that yet? It happened two or three times and I think they were just being polite.” Satoru knew you would say that but allows you to have your own beliefs as you reach over to playfully pinch his cheek with a soft laugh. But you suppose it’s endearing seeing him jealous over something that happened years ago when he has nothing to worry about. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Hmm, that’s an easy one. Never let me go?” He answers with a quickness that causes your heart to flutter, and sure enough he’s reverting back to being your lovable and charming husband. “Besides, having a beautiful and hot wife means that I have to protect and take care of what’s mine.” And he means more than fending off idiots trying to get your number, but also from being potentially targeted by cursed users because you’re someone of great importance to the Gojo clan leader.

“There’s a much better way to handle that. I could just let everyone know I’m happily married to the best guy ever.” Satoru doesn’t hide the smug look overtaking his features before nuzzling his face into your neck and pressing light kisses on your pulse point.

“Heh, flattery won’t get you off the hook.” He drags you impossibly close with his large hand wrapped around your hip. His onslaught of kisses continues up along your face and you both fall back on the cushions of the couch as he revels in your giggles. After a moment, Satoru meets your gaze again and sweeps strands of hair away to see more of you. “And I love seeing that ring on your finger. Reminds me of something real special between us and that you chose to be with me.”

“I meant what I said earlier, by the way.” You gently take his hand cradling your face and place it over your chest with an earnest squeeze. “You are the best husband I could ever ask for. Love you, baby.” Satoru leans down to capture your lips sweetly at first, then chases after its softness for little pecks and murmurs how much he loves you back. And from the bottom of the steps of the staircase are the Fushiguro siblings sharing a knowing glance before entering the room to help with breakfast.

꒰ note ᰔ satoru always wears his wedding band on his finger and around his neck when he’s fighting against cursed spirits. ꒱

[svt-luna]

𝜗℘ CAN I BE HIM?

❛ 𝘪 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘪’𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘯𝘰. 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴— 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 '𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯? 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘪 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘪 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮? ❜

timeline: 2017 & 2018

synopsis: Amid the tangled emotions between Luna, Jeonghan, and Mingyu, unspoken confessions and lingering hopes weave a bittersweet narrative of love, regret, and the desperate longing to be chosen.

warnings: angst, multiple povs, narrative description heavy, cursing, crying, mentions of rejection, heartbreak, jealousy, regrets, unrequited love (?), sad!Luna, jealous!Jeonghan, jealous!Mingyu, lowkey possessive Jeonghan, secret feelings, confusions and realizations, acceptance, unrequited love, everyone is lowkey sad

read If Only first before this if you haven’t already! this one-shot is the aftermath of that story. this is also inspired by these request by you lovely humans: (request 1), (request 2), (request 3) & (request 4) happy reading, my loves 🤍🤎

sidenote… my heart aches for the three of them cause i have been on their shoes before… all three of them (also, i made myself cry again)… i promise, they’ll be fine 🥹🤍

“and when i felt like i was an old cardigan under someone’s bed, you put me on and said i was your favorite.” listening to Cardigan while writing this is not for the faint hearted…

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

Can I be him?

The thought crossed Mingyu’s mind as he sat on the cold floor of the practice room, his back propped against the wall. His dark eyes were fixed on Luna, who was across the room, quietly stretching. Her movements were methodical, almost robotic, as if her body was going through the motions her heart wasn’t in. She tilted her head to one side, letting out a soft laugh at something Dokyeom had said, but Mingyu wasn’t fooled.

That smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Her eyes told a different story.

Slightly swollen, rimmed with a faint red that hadn’t been there the day before, they seemed heavier today, carrying the kind of weight that only came with a sleepless night and a broken heart.

Luna’s smile faltered just slightly as she stretched her arms over her head, her gaze dropping momentarily to the floor. But she recovered quickly, plastering on the same bright expression that fooled most of the room.

Most of the room— but not the members, not him, and definitely not Jeonghan.

Mingyu’s gaze drifted from Luna to her shadow.

Jeonghan sat across the room, leaning against the mirrored wall, legs sprawled in front of him. His usual air of calm amusement was absent. Instead, he looked subdued, almost tired. His sharp eyes followed Luna’s every movement, his expression unreadable except to those who knew him best.

Mingyu could see the sadness there, the guilt. Jeonghan wasn’t the type to wear his emotions plainly, but Mingyu knew him too well to miss the subtle signs.

Mingyu let out a quiet sigh, his chest tightening as he turned his attention back to Luna.

She was so good at pretending.

Too good.

But not good enough to fool him.

Despite his reputation for being loud and playful, Mingyu was surprisingly perceptive, especially when it came to his members. He had a knack for reading the room, for picking up on the things people didn’t say.

And Luna, with her slightly too-wide smile and tired eyes, was screaming in silence.

His mind wandered back to the night before, right after they had wrapped up a grueling day of comeback promotions. They’d all piled into the van, worn out but satisfied with their progress. But something had been different. The usual chatter and teasing had been dampened by a palpable tension that no one could quite name.

He remembered how Jeonghan had broken the silence as they pulled up to the dorms.

“Can you guys give me a moment with Jiyeon?” Jeonghan had asked, his voice calm but carrying an edge of urgency that couldn’t be ignored.

The members had exchanged glances but ultimately agreed, leaving Jeonghan to chase after Luna to the elevators.

Mingyu had lingered just a moment longer, glancing back to see Jeonghan jogging after Luna, his expression uncharacteristically serious.

Desperate, almost.

The elevator doors had closed, muffling whatever conversation took place between the two.

By the time they arrived at the practice room today, they had both looked… normal. Talking, laughing, pretending nothing was wrong. But it was clear as day that something had changed. Luna moved with less energy, her usual spark dulled. And Jeonghan— he looked like a man carrying a secret too heavy to bear.

Then there was the matter of Luna’s swollen eyes. She’d walked in and mumbled something about it being allergy season.

Allergy season.

The excuse might have flown with someone else, but Mingyu wasn’t buying it. He knew better.

Luna wasn’t allergic to pollen— or anything but mushrooms, for that matter. And while the other members had let it slide, choosing not to push her, Mingyu had spent the entire morning unable to shake the image of her red-rimmed eyes.

It wasn’t allergies. It was something else.

Mingyu’s chest tightened again as he watched Luna push her hair behind her ear, her focus entirely on her stretches.

Luna wasn’t looking at Jeonghan. She hadn’t looked at him directly all morning. And yet, her entire body seemed to lean in his direction, like she couldn’t help but orbit him.

Her heart was crying for Jeonghan, Mingyu realized.

Whatever had happened between them last night, it had left her raw. She was trying so hard to act normal, to be okay, but it was written all over her face.

And Jeonghan— Jeonghan’s face held an ache that mirrored hers.

Mingyu had always known Luna to be someone who wore her strength like armor. She was tough, fiercely independent, and had an almost stubborn determination to handle her own struggles.

Over the years, he’d watched her laugh off bad days, push through injuries, and hide her tears behind radiant smiles.

He knew why she did it— she hated the idea of being a burden to anyone.

Even now, when her swollen eyes and tired demeanor betrayed the storm inside her, she continued to act as though everything was fine.

But Mingyu also knew her tells.

He knew the little cracks in her facade that most people missed. The way her laughter came a beat too quickly, or how she busied herself with menial tasks when her thoughts became too loud. And he especially knew how she would retreat into herself, bottling everything up until she couldn’t anymore.

In those moments, there was always one person who could reach her— Jeonghan.

Jeonghan had a way of being exactly what Luna needed.

He was always the first to notice when something was wrong and the first to drop whatever he was doing to listen to her. No matter how busy or chaotic things got, Jeonghan would sit with her, offering his undivided attention and quiet reassurances until she felt safe enough to open up.

But not today.

Today, Jeonghan was the reason for the sadness she was hiding, and Mingyu knew she wouldn’t be going to him. Not with the way she avoided looking in his direction or the way she flinched just slightly when his name was mentioned.

Mingyu had decided then and there that if Jeonghan couldn’t be the one to catch her this time, he would.

Even if it wasn’t his place.

Even if it hurt.

He’d made it his mission to be the shoulder she could lean on, at least until she and Jeonghan could figure things out.

Mingyu didn’t need to replace Jeonghan in her life— though the selfish part of him ached to hold even a fraction of the space Jeonghan held in her heart.

No, Mingyu would happily be whatever Luna needed him to be. Because she deserved to have someone in her corner.

The practice session dragged on, but Mingyu barely registered it. His attention kept flickering to Luna, who worked quietly in the corner, tying her hair up into a ponytail as the rest of the members milled about the room. She was doing her best to blend into the background, her movements measured and unhurried. But Mingyu could see the way her hands trembled slightly as she twisted the hair tie around her fingers.

He didn’t hesitate.

Before she could finish, Mingyu crossed the room in a few long strides, his heart thudding in his chest as he approached her. Without a word, he gently turned her around to face him and wrapped her in the biggest, warmest hug he could manage.

Luna froze in his arms, caught off guard by the sudden embrace. For a split second, she didn’t know who it was, but the familiar weight of Mingyu’s biceps around her shoulders was a dead giveaway.

Her body tensed at first, stiff and uncertain, but then it melted against him. Her arms came up to wrap loosely around his torso, and Mingyu felt the tension in her shoulders ease. She sank into the hug as though it was exactly what she needed but didn’t know how to ask for.

Neither of them spoke. The world around them seemed to fade away, the noise of the practice room becoming distant and inconsequential.

Mingyu rested his chin on the top of her head, his large hands moving gently to the loose tie of her hair. He pulled it free, his fingers working carefully to gather her strands and tie them properly. Luna stayed in place, her arms still around his waist, her face pressed lightly against his chest.

When he finished, Mingyu pulled back just slightly, cupping her neck with both hands as he tilted her head up to look at him. His thumbs brushed softly against her skin, and he offered her the gentlest smile he could muster.

“You did good today,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I’m proud of you, Lulu-ya.”

Luna’s eyes went misty at his words, her lips curving into a sad, soft smile. “Thank you, Gyu-Gyu,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Mingyu’s chest ached at the sight of her.

That smile— bittersweet and fragile— made him feel both helpless and fiercely protective all at once. He knew his words weren’t much, but she deserved to hear them.

Luna’s heart ached, too.

Jeonghan was always the one to tell her these things. After every practice, every performance, every small accomplishment, he would praise her for things she didn’t even realize mattered. “You did so well,” he’d say, whether it was after a grueling practice session or after a performance or something as simple as finishing her meal.

Mingyu wasn’t trying to replace Jeonghan, and deep down, she knew that. But it hurt all the same because his words reminded her of what she had with Jeonghan. And yet, it also made her heart swell with gratitude for Mingyu.

Mingyu felt the weight of her emotions, even if she didn’t voice them. He didn’t say anything, letting the moment hang between them before speaking softly again.

“Let’s eat together later,” he offered, his voice calm and reassuring. “I’ll come to your place, and we can hang out. Just you and me.”

Luna hesitated, her brows furrowing slightly as she considered his words. “You don’t have to, Gyu…”

“I want to,” he interrupted gently, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “You can tell me everything if you want or we can just watch something, okay?”

Her lips parted as if she wanted to argue, but she stopped herself. Instead, she nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said softly.

Mingyu smiled again, his hands still cupping her neck as he gave her a small nod. “Good. I’ll bring something over later. We’ll make a night of it.”

“Okay,” she repeated, her voice a little steadier this time.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And for now, that was enough.

Across the practice room, Jeonghan now stood, his against the mirrored wall, his arms crossed against his chest. Dino and Dokyeom were animatedly chattering beside him, their voices rising and falling with excitement as they recounted some trivial story from their schedule earlier that week. Jeonghan nodded absentmindedly, his lips curling into an occasional smile to show he was listening.

But he wasn’t.

His eyes were elsewhere, fixed on Luna and Mingyu, who were still locked in that quiet, private moment.

Jeonghan’s gaze lingered on the way Mingyu’s large hands cradled Luna’s neck with such gentleness, the way he tilted her head up to meet his gaze as if she were something precious. The way Luna’s tired face softened in response to Mingyu’s words, her lips curving into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Jeonghan didn’t even realize he had stopped nodding along to Dokyeom and Dino’s conversation until Dokyeom nudged his shoulder, snapping him out of his trance. “Hyung, are you even listening?”

Jeonghan blinked, his head turning slightly toward them. “Hmm?” he murmured, feigning nonchalance as he offered them a distracted smile. “Yeah, I heard you.”

Satisfied, Dokyeom launched back into his story, and Jeonghan gave another vague nod. But his attention drifted back almost immediately, his gaze locking onto Luna once again.

Jeonghan wasn’t sure what he was feeling.

There was a tightness in his chest, a gnawing sensation that twisted uncomfortably in his gut. It wasn’t something he was particularly familiar with, and yet, it felt impossibly loud in his head.

He watched as Mingyu’s hands lingered at Luna’s nape, his fingers brushing lightly against her skin before he stepped back, giving her a reassuring smile. He watched the way Luna’s shoulders seemed to relax under Mingyu’s touch, how she nodded at whatever Mingyu said with an almost imperceptible hesitation, as if she was letting down a guard she didn’t even know she had raised.

And then, like a whisper in his mind, the thought came unbidden— Can I be him?

Jeonghan’s chest constricted at the question, his heart skipping a beat as if the thought itself had startled him. The weight of those words settled heavily in his mind, lingering like a bitter taste he couldn’t shake.

But almost as quickly as it had come, the thought shifted, his mind backtracking with a sharp pang of realization.

I was him.

His fingers curled against his thighs as the words echoed in his head, quiet but insistent. He was the one Luna used to lean on, the one she sought out when the weight of the world became too much to bear. He was the one who used to coax those smiles out of her, who knew exactly what to say to make her laugh, to make her feel seen.

And now, someone else was standing in his place.

Jeonghan’s jaw tightened as he forced himself to look away, his eyes dropping to the floor. He hated how his thoughts were spiraling, how his emotions felt tangled and messy in a way he couldn’t quite unravel.

“Hyung?” Dino’s voice pulled him back to reality again, and Jeonghan glanced up, his expression carefully composed.

“Yeah?” he asked, his tone calm and even.

“Are you okay? You seem… distracted,” Dino said, his brow furrowing slightly.

Jeonghan gave a small laugh, shaking his head as if to brush off the concern. “I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all.”

But as he glanced back across the room, his eyes catching the tail end of Luna and Mingyu’s conversation, that gnawing feeling in his chest remained.

He told himself it was nothing. Just a passing moment of jealousy, perhaps. Nothing he couldn’t shake off.

But deep down, Jeonghan knew better.

Luna knew better as well.

She knew this quiet evening with Mingyu, as comforting as it was, would inevitably end with her peeling back the layers of her conflict with Jeonghan.

She knew Mingyu well enough to recognize that he wasn’t here just to keep her company or to feed her. He was here because he cared, because he had always been the kind of person who would wait patiently until she was ready to share the weight she carried.

Later that night, just as planned, Luna and Mingyu found themselves in her cozy apartment. The smell of her vanilla perfume lingered faintly in the air, mingling with the soft citrus scent of the candle she had lit on her kitchen counter. They were supposed to order takeout, but Mingyu, ever the culinary enthusiast, had other plans.

“You know, you could just sit there and be pretty while I do all the work,” Mingyu teased as he rummaged through her fridge, pulling out ingredients with practiced ease.

Luna, standing across the kitchen island with her arms crossed, raised an eyebrow at him. “And why would I do that when I can help? You do realize I’m capable of cooking, right?”

Mingyu paused, a dramatic look of skepticism plastered on his face. “Capable? Sure. But am I willing to risk my life testing that theory? Not really.”

She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her lips twitched upward despite herself. “Oh, please. I could outcook you any day.”

“Oh, really?” Mingyu leaned against the counter, smirking at her.

“Really. I’m an amazing cook, Gyu,” Luna huffed, grabbing a wooden spoon from the utensil drawer. “I’m helping, whether you like it or not.”

Mingyu grinned, knowing she wouldn’t back down. “Fine, fine. I’ll give you a task so you don’t feel useless.” He gestured toward the living room with his chin. “Go pick something for us to watch. Something good, okay? No pressure.”

Luna narrowed her eyes at him, but she set the spoon down and wandered into the living room, already knowing exactly what she’d choose.

When she returned a few minutes later, the television glinting as the screen flashed and showed what she chose. Mingyu burst into laughter. “‘Tangled’,” he said, shaking his head fondly. “Why am I not surprised?”

“What’s wrong with ‘Tangled’?” Luna asked, feigning offense as she arranged the table in front of her.

“Nothing,” Mingyu replied, turning back to the stove. “I just knew you’d pick it. You’re predictable, Lulu-ya.”

“Predictable? I’ll have you know that this is a classic,” she said, plopping down on the couch and throwing a cushion at him for good measure.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” Mingyu called back, dodging the cushion with a grin.

The sound of vegetables sizzling in the pan and the faint background score of the movie filled the apartment, creating a warmth that wrapped around them like a blanket.

When the food was finally ready, they settled on the couch with plates in hand, the coffee table serving as a makeshift dining area. The meal was simple— kimchi fried rice with chicken and some stir-fried vegetables— but it was perfect.

As the movie played, Luna found herself laughing more than she had in days. Mingyu kept up a steady stream of commentary, poking fun at Flynn Rider’s exaggerated smolder and mimicking Maximus the horse with over-the-top gestures.

It was silly and endearing, and it was exactly what she needed.

But Mingyu never pushed. He didn’t ask her how she was feeling, didn’t pry into the thoughts she was clearly holding back. He just let her exist, let her enjoy the moment, and it made all the difference.

For now, Luna didn’t have to think about the ache in her chest or the unspoken tension that lingered between her and Jeonghan.

For now, she could just be.

But deep down, she knew better. She knew that before the night was over, the words she had been swallowing all day would finally spill out. And somehow, she also knew that Mingyu would be ready to catch them when they did.

And then it did happen.

It happened in a flash, so subtle yet so significant, that Luna barely registered the words leaving her mouth until it was too late.

Mingyu stood from the couch, stretching his long limbs before heading toward her pantry. He ran a hand through his hair and casually asked, “You want a glass of wine? Thought it might as well be our dessert.”

She was mid-laugh, relaxed for the first time in what felt like ages, when the words slipped out, unbidden. “The last time I drank, I got fucking drunk and told Han I–”

The room fell into an unnatural stillness as her sentence cut short. Her breath hitched, and she froze, eyes dropping immediately to her hands. Her fingers instinctively twisted the gold rings she always wore, a habit Mingyu had seen countless times before. It was her tell, her silent admission of unease.

Mingyu turned slowly, his hand still hovering over the wine bottle. He studied her with the kind of calm that came only from years of reading people. He released the bottle without a sound and walked back toward her.

He didn’t speak, didn’t push, simply sat beside her, his broad frame a steady presence in the quiet room.

Luna felt the couch shift under his weight, but she couldn’t look at him. Her fingers kept twisting, the band of her rings cool against her warm skin. She felt a hand gently rest atop her head, and her tense shoulders eased just slightly at the comforting gesture.

The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, until she finally closed her eyes and sighed, long and weary. She knew Mingyu wouldn’t force her to speak. But that was precisely why she wanted to.

He deserved to know.

After everything he had done for her tonight— his lighthearted banter, the warm meal, the quiet reassurance he provided without ever needing words— he deserved this piece of her, no matter how raw it felt to offer.

And maybe, just maybe, she needed this too.

“The last time I drank…” she started, her voice shaky, barely above a whisper. She forced herself to keep going, the words tumbling out like a confession she had been holding too tightly for too long. “I got drunk and told Han… told him that I liked him.”

Her voice cracked at the last word, and she bit her lip, still unable to meet Mingyu’s gaze.

Mingyu had known.

He had always known.

From the moment they had met as trainees, it was as clear as daylight. Luna’s feelings for Jeonghan were written in every lingering glance, in the subtle softening of her features whenever he walked into the room, in the way she instinctively gravitated toward him no matter the situation.

It was in the way her eyes sparkled like stars whenever Jeonghan praised her, the way she seemed to orbit around him without even realizing it.

Mingyu knew it because he felt the same way about her.

He knew how it felt to linger in the background, to notice every small detail about someone and hope they’d see you too. He knew how it felt to hide his feelings behind jokes and smiles, burying them so deeply that no one would ever guess.

The difference between them was that Luna’s feelings were as evident as the sun at noon, while his were a well-guarded secret. He had mastered the art of pretending, of hiding his heart in plain sight.

He watched her, his heart aching as she twisted her rings even harder. It was as if she were trying to ground herself, to stop herself from breaking apart completely.

“…And the next day, in the elevator, he told me we wouldn’t work.”

The quiet admission shattered Mingyu’s trance.

His eyes snapped down to her, and he saw her finally look up at him. Her dark eyes were rimmed with tears, glistening under the soft light of her apartment. She blinked rapidly, as if willing them not to fall, but her lips trembled despite her effort to keep her composure.

“Am I too hard to love, Gyu-Gyu?” she whispered, her voice so soft, so heartbreakingly vulnerable, that Mingyu’s chest tightened.

His breath caught, and for a moment, he couldn’t find the words. He could only see the pain in her eyes, the self-doubt she had no business carrying, and the weight of her question that hung in the air between them.

Mingyu swallowed hard, his fists clenching against his knees as a bitter thought crept into his mind.

Can I be him?

Could he be the one who made her laugh, made her cry, made her feel so deeply? Could he be the one her heart longed for so desperately?

Mingyu had tried to push those feelings down for so long, telling himself it was enough just to be her friend. But seeing her like this, so broken over someone else— it hurt. It hurt more than he could have imagined.

Why can’t I be him?

And yet, even as the thought consumed him, Mingyu couldn’t look away. All he wanted, more than anything, was for her to smile again. Even if it wasn’t because of him.

Because that was what love looked like.

And right now, love was a battlefield he was losing.

He wanted to tell her so much— that she wasn’t too hard to love, that she deserved more than she was giving herself credit for, that if only she would let him, he would love her in ways she couldn’t even begin to imagine.

But he also knew this wasn’t about him.

So, instead, he cupped her face in his large, warm hands, his thumbs gently brushing against her cheeks as he steadied her gaze.

“No,” he said, his voice firm yet impossibly soft. “You’re not hard to love, Jiyeonie. Not at all.”

Her tears spilled over then, and Mingyu felt his heart splinter in ways he didn’t think were possible. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly, as if he could shield her from every hurt she had ever felt.

And for tonight, he promised himself he would be that person for her— the one she could lean on, the one who wouldn’t let her fall apart.

Luna broke.

It was slow at first, a trembling exhale that Mingyu barely heard over the rush of his own thoughts. Her body stiffened against him, her small frame caught in the vice grip of emotions she could no longer hold back.

Then, with a sound that tore straight through his chest, she broke completely.

Mingyu felt the full weight of her grief as her fingers fisted tightly into his shirt, clutching him like he was the only thing tethering her to the earth. Her tears spilled freely now, soaking the fabric of his shirt as sobs wracked her body.

He didn’t speak, didn’t move beyond the slow, soothing circles his hand traced on her back. He held her tightly, anchoring her, silently telling her she wasn’t alone in this.

It was the first time she’d let herself cry again after last night’s explosive breakdown. Almost twenty-four hours had passed since she’d stepped out of that elevator, leaving Jeonghan behind with a reassuring smile she’d fought to muster. She’d told him it was fine, told him she understood, before the doors slid shut and she was finally, mercifully, alone.

The second she’d stepped into her apartment, the dam had burst. Every ounce of strength she’d held onto collapsed under the weight of his polite rejection. She had screamed into her pillow, sobbed until her chest physically hurt, and curled into herself as the words replayed in her head like a cruel melody:

“…we can’t do this.”

And now, here she was again, sobbing uncontrollably, except this time she wasn’t alone.

Mingyu said nothing as her cries poured out against him. He stayed rooted in place, steady and quiet, letting her grief unfold at its own pace. His hand never stopped its gentle motion against her back, his other arm a firm yet tender hold around her.

He didn’t mind that his shirt was drenched, didn’t care that her nails were digging into him.

All he cared about was her.

When her sobs finally began to soften into quiet sniffles, he shifted slightly, but only to press his lips to the crown of her head in a gesture so soft it was almost reverent.

“You are not hard to love, Jiyeonie,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. He pulled back just enough to tilt her tearstained face up to meet his gaze. His hands cupped her cheeks gently, his thumbs wiping away the streaks of tears on her flushed skin. “You are far from that. In fact, you’re so easy to love.”

Her swollen, teary eyes locked onto his, and he could see the raw emotion swimming in them. Confusion, sadness, disbelief— all of it was there, but she didn’t pull away.

Luna let him hold her, let him speak.

Mingyu exhaled softly, his thumbs brushing over her skin again as he continued. “You care so deeply about the people around you. You go out of your way to make everyone feel seen and heard, even when you’re struggling yourself. You light up every room you walk into, Lulu-ya. People gravitate toward you without even realizing it because you make everything feel lighter, better. You’re kind in ways that most people can’t even fathom. You make people laugh, you make them feel safe. You make me feel safe.”

His voice wavered slightly at the last admission, but he pressed on, unable to stop the words tumbling from his heart. “You’re the type of person who loves so selflessly, and I don’t think you even realize how rare that is. You’re easy to love, Bae Jiyeon. So easy. Anyone who tells you otherwise doesn’t deserve you.”

He let out a shaky breath, the weight of his unspoken feelings threatening to overwhelm him. This wasn’t just about reassuring her— it was a truth he’d been holding onto for years, a truth he’d never been able to say out loud until now.

Luna’s lips parted slightly as she stared up at him, her wide, tear-filled eyes searching his face for something she couldn’t name. She didn’t speak, but she didn’t need to. Her silence said more than words ever could.

Mingyu’s gaze dropped to her lips, lingering there for a moment too long before flickering back to her eyes. And then back again. His breath hitched, and he realized just how close they were, her face cradled in his hands, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them.

Her eyes held sadness, yes, but there was also a flicker of confusion, a question she didn’t yet know how to ask.

His head dipped slowly, so slowly that time seemed to stretch around them. He could feel the pull, the magnetic force drawing him closer to her, but just as his lips were a whisper away from hers, he stopped.

Mingyu froze, his breath shaky as he closed his eyes and let his forehead rest gently against hers.

He sighed deeply, frustration and guilt clawing at him as he scolded himself silently.

What are you doing, Kim Mingyu?

Luna didn’t need this. She didn’t need more confusion, more complications. She didn’t need him taking advantage of her vulnerability.

Luna nudged her forehead against his, a small gesture of concern that only deepened his guilt. “Gyu-Gyu?” she whispered, her voice laced with confusion.

He opened his eyes slowly, finding her gaze still locked on him, her brows knit together as if trying to piece together what he was feeling.

Without a word, Mingyu pulled back just enough to place a soft, lingering kiss on her forehead. His lips pressed against her skin with a tenderness that conveyed everything he couldn’t say aloud.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes met hers again, and he offered her a small, reassuring smile. “You’re going to be okay, Jiyeonie,” he said quietly, his voice filled with a conviction he wasn’t entirely sure he believed. “You’re stronger than you think.”

Mingyu took a deep breath, steadying himself as he stared into Luna’s tear-streaked face. Her eyes, still wide and brimming with confusion, searched his for answers he didn’t yet have the strength to give. But there was one thing he knew with unwavering certainty, one thing he could promise her.

“I’ll make sure you’re okay,” he said, his voice soft yet filled with conviction. His hands, still cradling her face, fell to her shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “I don’t know how long it’ll take or how much it’ll hurt, but I promise you, Jiyeonie, I’ll be here. Whatever you need— whenever you need it— I’ll be here.”

The words hung in the air like a vow, unspoken yet understood. He didn’t need her to respond. Her silence, the way her fingers clung faintly to his wrist, was enough.

And with that, he stayed close, letting her process everything in her own time, his presence a silent promise that he wasn’t going anywhere.

And Mingyu kept that promise.

Through the days, the weeks, the months that followed, he was there. Quietly, steadfastly, he became the anchor Luna needed as she worked through the storm raging inside her.

He was the one who showed up unannounced at her apartment with her favorite takeout when he suspected she hadn’t eaten. The one who filled her living room with laughter when he pulled out his collection of terrible dad jokes. The one who dragged her out for morning walks when she felt too drained to even leave her bed, promising her that fresh air and sunshine could do wonders for her soul.

Whenever self-doubt crept into her voice, Mingyu countered it with an unwavering confidence in her. “You’re stronger than this,” he’d say, “and I’m not just saying that because I care about you. You’ve gotten through so much, Jiyeonie. You’re going to get through this, too.”

Whenever fatigue settled into her bones or fear whispered cruel lies into her ear, Mingyu was there. He’d sit with her in silence on her toughest days, a steady presence she could lean on without judgment. He gave her space when she needed it and filled it when she asked.

Mingyu knew when to push and when to wait.

There were days when she would cry, and he would simply hold her. Other days, she would rant about how lost she felt, how fragile she had become, and Mingyu would sit there, listening to every word without interrupting.

Mingyu didn’t try to fix her. He just let her feel what she needed to feel.

And slowly but surely, Luna began to heal.

Her laughter returned, soft at first but growing stronger with each passing day. Her confidence, once so shaken, began to rebuild itself. She started to hum absentmindedly again, a habit Mingyu had always found endearing.

Even her relationship with Jeonghan began to return to normal.

The awkward silences that had once stretched between them disappeared. The lingering tension in their stares faded, replaced by the easy camaraderie they had always shared. They laughed together again, talked as though nothing had happened, and spent time with the rest of the members without the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.

Jeonghan, true to form, never brought up what had transpired between them months prior. He respected her unspoken boundaries, never prying, never pushing. Luna, for her part, was grateful for that.

But no matter how much Mingyu helped her heal— no matter how many of her insecurities and doubts he managed to soothe— there was one thing he couldn’t replace.

Her feelings for Jeonghan.

Even after all this time, even after nearly a year of distance and rebuilding, her heart beat only for him.

It was Jeonghan she thought of in quiet moments, Jeonghan whose laughter still echoed in her mind, Jeonghan whose touch she longed for.

Her heart ached for him, yearned for him, and no amount of time seemed capable of changing that.

Her heart beats only for him; it longs only for him, an unyielding melody that no one else can rewrite.

And Mingyu… Mingyu was content with that.

Because if there was one thing he knew about love, it was that sometimes, love meant putting someone else’s happiness above your own. It meant helping the person you loved most find their happiness, even if that happiness didn’t include you.

After all, you would do anything for love— even if it meant helping your love with their love.

Mingyu marveled at his own heart sometimes, at its strength.

How was it possible to love someone so selflessly, to give so much of yourself knowing you might never get anything in return?

He didn’t know, but he also didn’t regret it.

Then again, Luna’s heart was just as strong, if not stronger.

She had endured the kind of heartbreak that could shatter a person, and yet she had chosen to keep loving. She had chosen to persevere, to hold onto that love even when it felt impossible.

Mingyu thought of her often, of the quiet resilience she carried, of the way she smiled even when her heart was heavy.

She amazed him, and in some ways, she inspired him.

If Luna could endure so much and still love so deeply, then who was he to do any less?

And so, Mingyu stayed by her side, his heart heavy yet full.

Because loving Bae Jiyeon— helping Bae Jiyeon—wasn’t a burden.

It was a privilege.

Jeonghan feels the same.

It was a privilege.

It was a privilege to know Luna, to stand beside her through the years as they navigated the treacherous waters of the idol world. A privilege to work with her, to watch her light up stages with an effortless grace that took his breath away every time. A privilege to call her his best friend, the one person who could read him like an open book even when he thought he was being clever.

And above all else, it was a privilege to be loved by her.

Jeonghan had known since the moment she confessed to him in her apartment, her words slurring slightly from the alcohol but her heart painfully clear.

Luna’s love for him wasn’t something fleeting or shallow. It was deep and real, a kind of love he’d never dared to believe someone like him could deserve.

But it terrified him.

The moment in the elevator the night after when he told her, “We can’t do this,” he knew he’d made a mistake.

The look in Luna’s eyes— the fleeting flash of pain she couldn’t quite mask before she quickly plastered on a smile— was something that haunted him.

He remembered the way she reassured him, her voice trembling slightly as she said, “It’s fine. I was drunk and being stupid.” And then she left the elevator, her head held high, as though the weight of his rejection wasn’t bearing down on her.

But Jeonghan knew her better than that.

He always had.

That night, he couldn’t sleep. His mind replayed every moment of their conversation, every little detail he wished he could take back. He pictured her walking into her apartment, finally letting her guard down, finally allowing herself to cry.

The thought of her alone, her shoulders shaking with sobs he knew she wouldn’t let anyone else see, made his chest ache.

The next day, he noticed the shift immediately.

Luna avoided his gaze in schedules, her usual bright smiles now tempered, softer, almost rehearsed. She threw herself into work with a single-minded focus that even the other members started to comment on. He could see it in the way she laughed at jokes— polite, short, never reaching her eyes. He could see it in the way she distanced herself, not just from him but from everyone, wrapping herself in a cocoon of work and solitude.

And then there was Mingyu.

Jeonghan noticed how Luna began to gravitate toward him.

It started small— a lingering conversation here, a shared laugh there. But it grew, and before long, Mingyu became her shadow, her support, her confidant.

Jeonghan should have felt envious, should have felt angry, but all he felt was gratitude.

Because if anyone could help Luna when she refused to help herself, it was Mingyu.

Jeonghan knew how Luna was.

She wasn’t the type to openly share her emotions, not unless she was pushed. She was the type to bury them, to lock them away until the weight of them became unbearable. And Mingyu… Mingyu had a way of drawing people out, of making them feel safe.

Jeonghan was thankful for him, even if it hurt to watch them together sometimes.

And so, Jeonghan watched.

Silently, slyly, like a fly on the wall, he kept an eye on her.

He noticed the little things— the way her smile faltered when she thought no one was looking, the way her hands fidgeted nervously during group meetings, the way her laugh sometimes felt just a little too forced.

Jeonghan noticed how she stopped seeking him out the way she used to, how her lingering stares disappeared, replaced by a pointed avoidance that cut deeper than he wanted to admit.

He noticed, too, the way Mingyu seemed to bring back pieces of the Luna he knew.

Little by little, she began to laugh more freely, her eyes regaining some of their sparkle. She started to hum to herself again, a quiet melody that Jeonghan hadn’t realized he missed until it returned.

But even as Luna began to heal, Jeonghan couldn’t shake his regret.

He regretted the fear that had gripped him in that elevator, the fear that had made him choose the safe path instead of the one he truly wanted.

Jeonghan regretted making her feel like her love wasn’t worth the risk, like she wasn’t worth the risk.

He regretted the way he had hurt her, the way he had driven her away, the way he had made her question herself. And he regretted most of all that he hadn’t been brave enough to tell her the truth.

Because the truth was, Jeonghan had loved Luna for as long as he could remember.

Jeonghan was in love with Luna.

Hopelessly, irrevocably in love with her in a way that defied logic or reason. It wasn’t something he could pinpoint to a single moment or a singular trait.

From the moment they met as trainees, there had been something about her that drew him in. Maybe it was despite her cold outward appearance, she smiled so beautifully, so bright and unguarded, or the way she laughed, unabashed and full of life. Maybe it was the way she looked at him, like she could see straight through the facade he so carefully crafted.

It was everything, all at once.

It was the way she scrunched her nose when she laughed too hard, her giggles filling the room like sunlight spilling into a dark corner. It was the way she remembered the little things— like how he liked his coffee or how he always needed a nap after a long schedule.

It was the way she seemed to know him better than he knew himself, calling him out on his tricks and teasing him just enough to make him feel seen but never exposed.

He loved the way she carried herself, too— quietly resilient, endlessly kind, and fiercely loyal.

Luna was the type of person who gave her all to the people she loved, and Jeonghan had been one of the lucky ones to be on the receiving end of that love.

Jeonghan loved her then, and he loved her now.

But he had convinced himself that love wasn’t worth the risk.

That the friendship they had built, the bond they shared as members of the same group, was too important to jeopardize. That their careers, their futures, couldn’t withstand the weight of a love like theirs.

And so, he had told her no.

Even now, after everything, after he had hurt her, rejected her, and created a chasm between them, she treated him with the same warmth she gave to everyone else. He could see it was different now, of course— more guarded, more deliberate— but it was still there.

And it made him ache.

Jeonghan had spent countless nights lying awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying the moment he told her no.

But now, as he watched her from afar, as he saw the way she smiled at Mingyu, as he noticed the way she seemed to come alive again under his care,

Regret was a constant companion, whispering in his ear, reminding him of what he had given up. It wasn’t just her love he had rejected— it was the possibility of something more, something deeper, something that terrified him because of how much he wanted it.

He wanted to make things right, to take back the pain he had caused her, to give her the love she deserved. But he didn’t know how.

But he was determined to make things right, no matter how long it took.

So, for now, he watched. And he waited.

Even if they could only ever be friends, Jeonghan was willing to accept that. He would rather have her in his life in any capacity than risk losing her completely. He was willing to put in the effort, to prove to her that she was safe with him again, that he could be someone she could trust. He was willing to push his own feelings aside if it meant seeing her happy.

And he hoped, with everything in him, that one day he would find the courage to tell her the truth.

But it wasn’t easy.

Even after months of careful rebuilding, after they had returned to a semblance of normalcy, Jeonghan could still see how Luna clung to Mingyu.

He didn’t blame her. Mingyu had been her rock during the time Jeonghan had faltered, the one who had stepped in when he had stepped away. And Mingyu, ever the gentle giant, had been exactly what Luna needed.

They were behind the scenes of a photoshoot when Jeonghan saw it again.

Luna’s laugh rang out, bright and unrestrained, as she squealed and called for Mingyu. “Gyu-Gyu, look at this!” she said, her voice laced with excitement. She held up her phone, waving it at him as he approached, his face lighting up in that easy, boyish grin Jeonghan had come to know so well.

Mingyu leaned down to look at her phone, his broad shoulders nearly swallowing her small frame as they shared a moment of quiet laughter.

Jeonghan watched from the corner of the room, his hands loosely clasped in front of him, his heart constricting painfully at the sight.

He was happy to see her smile like that, truly happy.

It was the kind of smile that reached her eyes, the kind of smile that had been absent for so long. And he was thankful for Mingyu— deeply, profoundly thankful— for being the one to bring that smile back.

But despite the gratitude that swelled in his chest, another thought crept into his mind, unbidden and unwelcome.

Can I be him?

The question lingered, heavy and bittersweet.

It mirrored the thought that had crossed Mingyu’s mind so many months ago, the same quiet longing, the same resignation.

But where Mingyu’s question had been born from the pain of unrequited love, Jeonghan’s was laced with guilt and regret. Because he could have been him. He could have been the one to make her laugh like that, to stand by her side, to be her rock.

But he wasn’t.

And now, as he watched her with Mingyu, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had forfeited his chance entirely.

Jeonghan’s gaze lingered on them, his heart twisting with an ache he couldn’t quite put into words. He saw the way Luna tilted her head up to meet Mingyu’s eyes, her expression soft and full of trust. He saw the way Mingyu looked at her in return, his own gaze steady and unguarded.

It was a silent conversation, a quiet understanding, and Jeonghan felt like an intruder simply for witnessing it.

It was ironic.

Both Jeonghan and Mingyu were caught in the same cycle, both willing to put their own feelings aside for Luna’s happiness. Both of them aching for something they could never truly have. And yet, where Mingyu’s strength lay in his ability to give selflessly, Jeonghan’s strength was still a work in progress.

He wanted to be better for her. He wanted to deserve her.

But as he stood there, watching her laugh with Mingyu, the question lingered in the back of his mind, haunting him.

Can I be him?

Jeonghan’s breath caught in his throat as he stood frozen, watching the scene unfold before him. Luna and Mingyu were standing just a few feet away, their heads bent together over her phone. She laughed again, her voice light and melodic, and something inside Jeonghan twisted painfully.

She looked so happy.

The kind of happiness that was effortless, unguarded, real.

And yet, all Jeonghan could think was, Am I still the one?

The question clawed at him, desperate and raw, filling him with a fear he couldn’t shake. It wasn’t just the sight of her smiling at Mingyu or the way she leaned into his presence like he was her safe harbor.

It was the possibility that somewhere along the way, Jeonghan had lost her— lost the part of her heart that once belonged to him.

Had she moved on? Had her feelings for him faded, dissolved into nothing but a distant memory of what could have been?

Jeonghan’s fingers tightened into fists at his sides, his chest heavy with the weight of uncertainty. He had no one to blame but himself. He had been the one to push her away, to draw that invisible line between them, to let fear and doubt dictate his choices.

But what if, in doing so, he had extinguished the flame that once burned for him in her heart?

Jeonghan’s mind raced, desperate for answers.

He thought back to every stolen glance, every lingering touch, every smile she had ever given him. He thought about the way she used to look at him, her eyes filled with a kind of quiet adoration that made him feel like he was the center of her universe. He thought about the way she used to laugh at his jokes, even when they weren’t funny, and how she always seemed to seek him out in a crowded room, as if drawn to him by some invisible thread.

Was any of that still there? Or had it all been erased, replaced by something else— someone else?

Jeonghan swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. Please, he thought, his heart aching with the weight of his unspoken plea. Please let me still be the one.

He wanted so badly to believe that he was.

That somewhere deep inside, Luna’s heart still called for him, still craved him, still loved him. That despite everything— despite the hurt, the distance, the months of uncertainty— he was still the one she wanted.

But the fear was relentless, gnawing at the edges of his hope.

What if he was wrong? What if she had already let go? What if Mingyu had become the person she turned to, the person she leaned on, the person she loved?

The thought was unbearable, and yet it lingered, taunting him with its cruel possibilities.

Jeonghan’s eyes flickered back to Luna, watching the way she lit up in Mingyu’s presence, her smile brighter than he had seen it in months. He felt a pang of gratitude for Mingyu, for being there for her in a way that Jeonghan hadn’t been able to. But that gratitude was overshadowed by a deep, aching longing— an unrelenting desire to be the one who made her feel that way.

I can be him, Jeonghan thought, his mind racing with determination. I can be whoever and whatever you want me to be. Just don’t let go of me. Please, Nana-ya. Don’t give up on me.

The words burned in his chest, desperate and silent. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold on to this hope, this fragile, flickering belief that he still had a chance.

Jeonghan just needed to know. Needed her to give him a sign, a hint, anything to tell him that he wasn’t too late.

Wait for me, he thought, his gaze softening as he looked at her. Just a little longer. Don’t let go. Don’t let me go, pretty angel.

Because if there was even the slightest chance that he was still the one, Jeonghan would fight for her. He would fight with everything he had, against every fear and every doubt, to be the person she needed.

To be the person she loved.

Jeonghan just needed her to wait. Just a little more.

He can be the one.

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

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: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡ - lunaఌ

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[nahoney22]

Congratulations on the followers! Please can I request some angsty fluff with Fox and a female reader with this prompt - 24: “Who hurt you?”

Maybe reader got attacked and he found her and tends to her wounds which leads to some feelings being shared? Thanks if you do 😊 I love your work

Medical Feelings

🫧 Pairings: Commander Fox X Female!Reader

word count: 1.8k

prompts:

• “Who hurt you?”

Plot: After a risky mission that left you injured, Commander Fox helps nurse you back to health.

Warnings: Safe for work, hurt whump, idiots in love, Reader scared of droids momentarily, needle mention, slightly injured reader, minor blood mention.

Authors note: Sorry for the wait 🩵

“How are you holding up?”

You blink, trying to focus as the voice cuts through the haze in your head. But your vision blurs and swims, the light above stabbing behind your eyes like a viroblade.

“Like someone who’s been hit in the head,” you groan, wincing as you sit up on the medbay cot. The room tilts for a moment and you feel like you may be sick but luckily it settles, and your eyes finally set on the figure perched nearby. Thire.

The mission hadn’t gone as planned. What should have been a straightforward retrieval of intel left you caught in the crossfire. You weren’t a soldier so when the fighting started, you’d been forced to rely on pure luck and very minimal training. Clearly, neither had been enough.

Your memory of the incident was weak as all you could recall was a sharp pain to your head followed by the sight of clankers looming over you before everything went dark.

“You took quite a hit,” Thire says, his voice lighter than the situation warrants as he pulls up a stool to sit beside you.

“I noticed,” you mutter, rubbing gingerly at your temple that felt sticky and as you pull your hand back, a splodge of blood painted your fingertips. A dull ache radiates from where the blow landed, and your entire body feels stiff and battered.

Recovery is going to take a while.

“You know the Commander’s going to want to see you.”

The comment makes you freeze for a beat before you force a painful shrug, hoping to look unaffected. “He’s busy. I doubt he even noticed.”

Thire snickers. “Not too busy for his favourite girl.”

You roll your eyes, already regretting letting him sit down. “Oh don’t start with all that.”

But Thire doesn’t let up, grinning like a loth-cat who’s cornered its prey. “Come on. You’ve seen the way he looks at you. If Fox stares any harder, his visor’s going to fog up.”

“Shut up, Thire,” you grumble, though a reluctant chuckle escapes before you can stop it. The movement makes your ribs ache, and you hiss softly in pain. “And no, I haven’t seen the way he looks at me. It's you lot putting that notion in my head.”

Instantly, Thire’s grin fades, replaced by concern as he notices your pain. “Should I call a med droid?”

“No!” you blurt, a little too quickly. Thire raises a brow, clearly catching on.

“Not a fan of droids, huh?”

You cross your arms, or at least try to; the motion is stiff and awkward. “I’m fine. Really. I don’t need—”

“Who hurt you?”

The sudden voice freezes you mid-sentence. Both you and Thire turn toward the door at the same time, and your heart stops.

Commander Fox. The visor of his helmet glints under the overhead lights as he strides toward you, exuding that no-nonsense authority he’s known for.

Thire shoots you a smug, told-you-so glance before rising to his feet. “This one took a blow to the head, sir. She has a possible concussion.”

Fox’s attention shifts to the datapad in Thire’s hand. “Why wasn’t this reported to me immediately?”

“I figured you had more pressing matters,” Thire replies smoothly, clearly unfazed by the irritation in Fox’s tone.

Fox huffs, the sound sharp and metallic through his helmet’s vocoder. His gaze snaps back to the datapad, scanning the details. “And why hasn’t a med droid been dispatched?”

You groan, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “I’m right here, you know. Maybe someone could ask me what I want instead of talking like I’m invisible.”

Both men turn toward you at the same time. Thire’s expression is sheepish, though it doesn’t quite mask the amusement in his eyes. Fox, however, is unreadable as always, his emotions hidden behind the stoic facade of his helmet.

Thire clears his throat, stepping back. “I’ll, uh, leave you with the Commander.” He’s gone before you can protest, disappearing through the door with a suspiciously quick pace.

The silence that follows is thick enough to cut with a vibroblade. Fox stands rigidly near the cot, his arms folded across his chest. You can hear the faint tap of his boot against the durasteel floor as he shifts his weight, clearly uncomfortable.

Finally, he breaks the silence. “How are you feeling?”

You shrug, regretting it immediately when the movement sends another sharp ache down your spine. “I’ve been better.”

His head tilts slightly, a gesture that might be concern. “You should’ve reported your injuries sooner.”

“You think I wanted to end up in here?” you counter, the bite in your voice softened by exhaustion.

Fox doesn’t reply immediately. Instead, he steps closer, his broad frame almost casting a shadow over you. For a moment, you think he might argue. But his next words surprise you.

“You’re lucky,” he says almost quietly. “It could’ve been worse.”

There’s something in his tone—a rare softness that catches you off guard, even if it is for a moment. You both seem to snap out of whatever the hold that ensnared you both and you close your eyes, leaning back with a soft agreement of his words.

Fox pauses for a moment, then steps away. You crack one eye open, expecting him to be halfway out the door, but to your surprise, he returns moments later with a medical droid trailing behind.

You suddenly sit up straighter, tension rippling through you as the AZI droid glides closer, a stim injector held in one of its arms.

“I’m fine. I don’t need a droid to see me,” you declare quickly, glancing between the droid and Fox with what you hope is a convincing look of confidence. But Fox is already standing there, arms crossed, and his helmet tilts slightly in a way that screams ‘you’re not fine’.

“The patient requires an injection to reduce inflammation and prevent complications,” the droid announces, already grating on your nerves.

Your heart skips as the droid raises the injector, the gleam of the stim making your stomach twist. You instinctively lean back, trying to put more space between you and the advancing machine.

“No. I don’t want it,” you snap, panic slipping into your voice despite your best efforts.

Fox’s gaze shifts to you, then to the droid. He holds up a hand, “Stop.”

The droid halts mid-motion. “Commander, the patient requires—”

“I’ll handle it,” Fox says firmly.

Before you can process what’s happening, he steps forward and plucks the stim from the droid’s arm.

“What are you doing?” you ask apprehensively.

He doesn’t answer immediately, instead inspecting the stim injector with almost practiced ease. “You need this,” he says finally, his tone calm but resolute under the modulator. “If you don’t want the droid to do it, I will.”

Your mouth opens, then closes, words failing you as he pulls a stool closer and sits beside the cot. He’s quiet, efficient, and unbothered by your flustered state as he rolls up the sleeve of your tunic. His gloved fingers brush against your skin, sending a jolt through you that has nothing to do with the injection.

“This will only take a second,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost soothing. “Just relax.”

You nod stiffly, your pulse racing as he steadies your arm. The sharp pinch of the needle is over in a heartbeat, but the warmth of his proximity lingers far longer.

“There. All done.”

You exhale, tension slowly bleeding out of your shoulders. “Thanks,” you murmur, your voice quieter than you intended.

But Fox doesn’t get up. Instead, his gaze shifts to your temple, where the bruising from the blow to your head.

“Let me take a look at that,” he says, leaving no room for argument.

You look at him, eyes wide. “It’s fine—”

“Sit up,” he interrupts, standing and motioning for you to move to the edge of the cot.

Reluctantly, you scoot forward, your legs dangling over the side as he steps closer.

Much closer.

He stands between your knees, his hands are surprisingly gentle as they cradle your face, tilting it slightly so he can get a better look at your wound.

The proximity makes your breath hitch, your heart pounding so loudly you’re begging he can’t hear it. His touch is careful, his thumbs brushing along your jaw as he examines the cut near your temple.

“This should’ve been cleaned properly,” he mutters under his breath “You clones are always too stubborn for your own good.”

“But i’m not a clone,” you mumble, your voice embarrassingly shaky even though his comment amused you.

“No,” he replies, glancing down at you for a moment. “But you’re just as stubborn.”

You open your mouth to retort, but the words die in your throat when he dips his head slightly, focusing on your injury with laser precision behind his visor. His presence is overwhelming, the sharp, clean scent of his armour mixing with something distinctly him.

“This might sting,” he warns, holding up a sterilising wipe.

You barely register the faint sting as he cleans the wound, too distracted by the way his hands move so deliberately, so gently. His thumbs brush against your skin again, steadying your head as he works, and you find yourself leaning into his touch without meaning to.

“There,” he says after a moment, stepping back just enough to toss the used wipe onto the nearby tray. His hands linger on your jaw for a second longer before he finally lets go. “That should help.”

You glance up at him, your cheeks warm, and manage a small, “Thanks.”

He straightens, his imposing frame still far too close. “You need rest,” he says firmly, though his voice is softer than before. “No arguments.”

You nod, swallowing hard. “Got it. Rest. Sure.”

For a moment, neither of you move, the charged silence stretching between you.

For a moment, you don’t think about your actions. Perhaps it was the blow to your head that made you act in a certain way. As he was about to turn and leave, you reach out and grasp his wrist.

He looks back, his helmet adorably titling to the side as you gesture him to come back by pulling his arm. And he does.

“Thank you, Commander. You’ve… you have always been kind to me.”

Then, you lean up and rest your forehead to his, eyes closed. His visor made it a little difficult but you heard his shallow gasp pop through his modulator.

But, he doesn’t move back. He lets it happen and only moves when you finally break away, a soft and nervous smile on your lips.

“Thank you.”

“G-Get some rest.” Then, with a curt nod, Fox finally steps back, his presence still lingering long after he’s gone.

And as you lie back on the cot, staring at the ceiling, you can’t decide what’s more distracting: the ache in your head or the memory of his hands on your skin.

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[solxamber]

I’ve been loving the Holiday Event so far! I’d like to ask for Ramshackle, 6, Fluff if that’s alright?

ending the event with skully!

Bewitched || Skully J. Graves

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "Say that again" ; Genre: Fluff

Skully’s fingers animatedly traced patterns in the air as he spoke, his eyes sparkling with an almost feverish passion.

“And you see, the true essence of Halloween isn’t just the decorations or the costumes—it’s the solemnity! The quiet reverence for the macabre! Jack Skellington understands this! The others… they don’t. They simply can’t fathom—”

You rested your chin in your palm, contently watching him pace back and forth. His voice, usually measured and elegant, rose in excitement as he delved deeper into his passionate diatribe about the perfect Halloween.

But then, without warning, he stopped mid-sentence. He glanced at you, an uncharacteristic hesitance softening his expression.

“Ah… I’ve been rambling, haven’t I?” His tone turned self-deprecating, his usual confidence faltering. “I must apologize. I wouldn’t want to bore you or appear… insufferable.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What? No, I was listening.”

“Really?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course. I want to hear more.”

For a moment, Skully didn’t respond, his expression frozen in surprise. Then, slowly, his face lit up, brighter than you’d ever seen it.

“You…” His voice quivered slightly, a mix of disbelief and unrestrained joy. “You genuinely wish to hear more? Can you say that again?”

You nodded, your smile widening at the way his excitement returned tenfold. "Tell me more, Skully."

With a delighted laugh, Skully reached out and grasped your hands in his. He brought them up to his lips, pressing a reverent kiss to your knuckles. “Ah! What a blessing it is to have someone so understanding, so kind! Truly, you are a marvel among people!”

Your heart did an impressive somersault as his lips brushed your skin. It wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed Skully’s dramatic tendencies before, but being on the receiving end was a whole different story.

As if oblivious to your rapidly reddening face, Skully continued holding your hands as he resumed his Halloween musings.

“Now, as I was saying, the ideal Halloween requires an ambiance of solemnity! Imagine, if you will, an orchestra playing a haunting overture while the moon casts shadows upon a pitch-black room…”

His voice flowed on, and you found yourself paying less attention to the words and more to the warmth of his hands over yours, the earnest gleam in his eyes, and the joy in his smile.

“Skully,” you murmured, your cheeks burning as he turned to you mid-ramble.

“Yes, my dear?”

“My hands… you’re still holding them.”

It took a few seconds for your words to register. His eyes widened, and he abruptly let go, his usual composure momentarily shattered. “Oh! My sincerest apologies! I—I didn’t mean to overstep—”

You laughed, cutting through his flustered apologies. “It’s fine, really.”

Skully’s face softened, his lips twitching into a smile. “You’re remarkable, you know that? To have someone who listens, who encourages me… It means more than words can express.”

The earnestness in his tone made your heart swell, and you reached out to clasp his hands again. “I’ll always listen, Skully.”

His face reddened, but the grin he gave you was one of pure, unadulterated happiness. “Then I shall ensure my plans are always worthy of your attention, my dear confidant!”

And with that, Skully returned to his impassioned rambling, your hand still comfortably tucked in his as he spoke of solemn Halloweens and haunting overtures—each word spoken with the joy of knowing someone truly cared.

he's still alive and lives in ramshackle btw, Yana told me herself

Masterlist

[secretl1fe0fm3]

can’t take it back once it’s been set in motion ~ matty healy

this is slightly inspired by my favorite ovulation song; oxytocin by billie eilish :P (also this is my first one shot so please be nice!!)

warnings: smut, inexperienced!reader, service top!matty, slight power imbalance, excessive use of the word ‘love’, matty going down soft sound, aftercare, soft(ish) dom!matty, sub!reader.

18+ minors dni!!!

3k+ words

You sigh lightly as your phone lights up your pitch black room, mocking your current state of insomnia. You had set it down over an hour ago to try and force yourself to sleep, but even with a lack of the blue light, you were still wide awake. Sitting up, you reach for your phone and notice an unknown number calling you. Already being unable to sleep, you decide to entertain whoever could possibly be calling you at this hour. Ultimately, deciding to answer.

“Hello?” You speak slowly and softly, still somewhat tired despite being unable to sleep.

“Thank god you answered.” Said the voice, relieved, on the other end of the line.

“Matty?” You could recognize that voice anywhere, even though you were seventy percent sure you were hallucinating right now.

“Im sorry to bother you at this hour, love. I need your help.” Matty breathes out, his voice sounding rushed. You groan to yourself, barely audible. You and Matty had been friends for years, meeting through a mutual friend, but you haven’t heard from him in almost two years until now. He practically ghosted your friendship when he found himself in a new, yet toxic relationship. But, based on the headlines you had read the other day scrolling twitter, they had finally called it quits.

Sitting up, you put your phone on speaker, and sit it in your lap. “Matty, what the fuck do you need?” You’re pissed, but your voice not showing any more than a slight annoyance.

“I need you to come pick me up, take me back to mine. My buddies dragged me out with them to get over, well, you know. Long story short, they are all shit-faced, none of them fucking coherent, and my god damn car service app isn’t working.” He sounds genuinely stressed. “My phones about to die as well, which is bloody fucking fantastic.” Matty grumbles into the phone.

You sit there, momentarily debating your options. You could leave him there, make him figure his shit out on his own. But you also have a soft spot for him after everything, knowing, if anything, he’s not the same person who deserted your friendship a few years ago. A deliberate exhale leaves your mouth, choosing the latter.

“Yeah, okay. Just text me your location before your phone dies. I’ll be there soon.” You hear him start to thank you, but you hang up quickly, not letting him get another word out. Deciding to keep your satin pajama shorts and bra on, you throw a hoodie over and slide on your sneakers. Groaning while grabbing your car keys off the kitchen island, you set off to your car, driving to Matty’s current location.

As you pull up to the bar, you recognize Matty leaning up against the wall, taking a long drag of his cigarette. Nothing has changed. You also notice none of his friends are anywhere to be seen. Odd. Driving up next to where Matty is standing, you roll down your window and his eyes catch yours.

“Long time no see, love.” Matty’s lips twist up into a smirk. Nothing. Has. Fucking. Changed. You watch him stub out his cigarette on the brick wall and toss it into the trash can by him. He climbs into your car shortly after. “Missed your face, thanks for coming to get me.”

Letting out an immediate scoff at his nonchalant behavior, you decide to ignore his comment. “So, Im taking you back to yours, right?”

You feel Matty’s eyes rake over your body, burning into your skin. You can smell some alcohol on him, though you know he’s not a big drinker, only having a glass or two of wine usually, and choosing to stick to his cigarettes or weed. He’s not drunk, so why is he looking at you like that.

“Of course, love.” He speaks lowly, eyes still stuck on you. You decide to disregard his use of the pet name and put your car into drive, pulling off onto the main road.

The drive to Matty’s house was maybe fifteen minutes at most, and yet it felt like an eternity with his eyes fixed on you. It’s almost like he couldn’t believe you actually came to pick him up, not being able to come to terms that you were finally seeing each other after two years.

Pulling up to Matty’s house brought back so many memories, and important moments you two had shared over the years of your friendship. His driveway led you to his front door, as you put your car in park, you finally glance over at Matty, who’s staring attentively. Under the glow of the exterior lights on his house, you notice he’s wearing tight black jeans, a dark belt, blank tank top, and a satin dress shirt. His long curly hair is slicked back slightly, with his sunglasses sitting on top of his head.

“Like what you see?” Matty implies cockily, eyes never leaving yours.

“It’s a fucking Monday.” You glare at him. “Why were you out on a fucking Monday, don’t you think you’re too old for this bullshit?” Continuing to ignore his playful comments, you squint your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest. You slightly feel bad for picking arguments with him, but his remarks are starting to make you feel some type of way.

Matty laughs out loud at your comment, the sudden deep laugh makes you jump a bit. “Lighten up a bit, love.” He nudges his elbow into your arm. You continue to frown at him, clearly not finding anything amusing. Matty falls silent, realizing how upset you actually are. “Look, why don’t you come inside? I can make you some tea, and we could watch a movie like old times?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, waiting on an answer.

Your eyes bore into his. “Fine.” Turning off your car, you and Matty step out, walking up to his front door. He unlocks his door and steps to the side, motioning for you to come in. You take off your sneakers and set them on the mat, walking over to his living room and sitting down on his massive couch. He joins you promptly, sitting right next to you, a little too close for the amount of spots he could’ve picked from.

“Still a little bratty? Huh?” He asks casually, not once looking up at you as he turns on his TV.

“Excuse me?” Your eyes widen at his sudden judgement.

“Bratty. You’ve always been a little brat, love. It’s cute, though. Never minded it. Some things just never change.” He chuckles to himself, shaking his head.

Can’t take it back once it’s been set in motion

Your mouth is agape, taken aback by his words, struggling to make a counter remark.

“I see no one’s ever tried putting you in your place yet.” Matty hums absentmindedly, setting the remote down and glancing over at your shocked face.

You know I love to rub it in like lotion.

Pink flushes on your cheeks and neck as you stare at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to say next. "I- what?" You stumble over your words, mouth suddenly dry.

Matty moves closer, invading any personal space you were clinging onto. His hand falls on your thigh, squeezing as he keeps his eyes locked on yours. "Oh, you heard me loud and clear, love. Don't play stupid now." He whispers, eyes flickering to your lips momentarily.

You lose the ability to speak, eyes unable to leave his. "Matty-" He cuts you off.

"C'mon darling, I saw how you were looking at me in the car, and how eager you were to come pick me up tonight, even after all this time"

I can see it clear as day.

The blush on your cheeks deepens as you feel his hot breath fan across your skin, creating goosebumps up your arms. You grab onto his forearm, putting your other hand on his chest, trying to keep a small distance between you two. Matty was very attractive, you couldn't deny it. But your inexperience was making you hesitate, unsure of how to handle his advances.

Before you could react, Matty reached his hand out and placed it on your cheek, the other still resting on your thigh, squeezing tighter than before. His face was only centimeters away from yours as he breathes out, "Tell me to stop and I will. But you don't want me too, do you, love?"

You don't really need a break.

You close your eyes tightly, feeling flustered at his words. A warmth growing in your stomach, an unfamiliar feeling. You think about pushing him off, but your body ached for him, not wanting to stop this. Without any more hesitation, you look back up at him, shaking your head slowly, an invitation for him to continue.

Wanna see what you can take.

At your permission, Matty crashes his lips against yours, moving the hand that was on your cheek down to your neck. You let out a small gasp at the contact. He takes this as a chance to deepen the kiss, taking up every part of your mouth with his. The grip on your thigh moves up, closer to your heat. His fingers play with the hem of your pajama shorts, pushing them up slightly, almost exposing your underwear. You let out a pathetic whine as he breaks the heated kiss.

"God, Ive wanted to do this for years, you have no idea." Matty grumbles out as he pulls off your hoodie swiftly, pushing you down to lay back against the arm rest. He hovers over you, pulling down your satin shorts slowly, eyes never breaking contact from yours. "You're so fucking pretty baby, my perfect girl." You blush at his words, letting out a soft groan. Feeling like a prey under the gaze of a predator, you fix your eyes on the ceiling, unable to look at him.

You should really run away.

Matty notices this, and reaches his hand out to grab at your chin, directing your attention back to him. "Don't you dare look away, keep your eyes on me, yeah?"

Your eyes meet his again, his pupils blown with lust. He looks at you with a stern look, asserting his dominance as you nod silently. Matty smirks at your obedience, and starts rubbing small circles on your heat. You moan louder this time at the friction, pushing your hips up against his hand.

Other people wouldn't stay. Other people don't obey.

"That's right, love. Does that feel good? Do you want more?" Matty's eyes stay trained on yours. You feel small under his gaze, yet enjoying how he towers over you, his chain dangling in front of your face. You clench your legs together as his fingers rub at your clit, growing wetter by the second.

Your stomach starts to tighten, already close to an orgasm. "Im close, please, I can't." You cry out, throwing your head back on the arm rest.

His fingers suddenly disappear from your clit, and you cry out from the sudden loss.

"Do I need to repeat myself? I told you to keep your eyes on me, yeah? Be a good girl for me, darling." Matty reiterates, moving his other hand up to your neck again, applying pressure but not fully cutting off your airway.

You nod feverishly, not wanting him to stop again. Your eyes pleading for forgiveness. Matty chuckles and reaches his hand back down, his fingers barely grazing your clit again as he pulls your underwear down your thighs, exposing your wet cunt to him. The cold air against your core makes you shudder, the contrast in temperature sending a wave of pleasure up your spine.

Matty watches your reaction intently, reveling in how it doesn't take much to get you worked up. He releases your neck from his grip and places his lips against your neck, searching for your pulse point. You expose your neck more, giving him silent permission to continue.

I wanna do bad things to you.

"God, you really are a desperate thing, aren't you love? Tell me where you want me." He murmurs into your neck, planting kisses and bites around the sensitive area as he rubs tight circles on your clit. You flush at his words, letting out a whimper.

"Anywhere, please." You beg him, jerking your hips up to create more friction again. He lets out a soft chuckle into your neck at this.

"Your wish is my command, darling." Matty smirks and pulls away from your neck. He begins to move down your body, trailing kisses until he reaches your cunt. He breathes out onto your heat, then swiftly attaches his lips to your clit, sucking hard. You cry out from the new feeling, body squirming with pleasure.

Matty hums against your pussy at the cry you let out, creating a vibrating sensation. Your hands grip at his head, your fingers curling into his hair and pulling. You keep your eyes on him as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly, mouth hanging open in a silent moan.

"So fucking perfect for me." He mumbles, wrapping his hands around your legs, keeping them wide open for him. His tongue teases your tight hole, licking thick stripes wherever he could reach before his attention is drawn back to your clit, sucking persistently.

Your back arches off the couch, fingers gripping at his hair and pulling hard. "Matty, fuck, Im gonna come, fuck-" You stumble over your words, feeling your stomach tighten at his continued abuse against your cunt.

Matty pulls away momentarily, "Go ahead, darling. Be a good girl for me and come on my tongue, yeah?" He picks up speed, mercilessly sucking and circling his tongue on your pussy.

I wanna make you yell.

Your legs clench together, affectively trapping him against your core as your body tenses up. You throw your head back, letting out an obscenely loud moan as you feel your orgasm wash over your body. Your hips buck up into his mouth, feeling even more wetness pool where his mouth is. Matty moans against your cunt, sending aftershocks from your orgasm straight to your heat again.

"You taste fucking unbelievable, love." He grunts out, making sure to swallow every last bit of your orgasm. Your body twitches from overstimulation as he finishes cleaning you up with his tongue.

Matty pulls away, his lips soaked with your fluids. You look at him with heavy eyes, feeling almost drunk from your orgasm. He looks almost as wrecked as you. You are about to sit up and reach for him when you glance down and realize he's still hard, but he stops you.

"I know you're tired. You don't have to finish me off. Another time, okay?" Matty speaks lowly, keeping eye contact with you as he stands up and grabs a blanket from the basket near the coffee table. He sits on the edge of the couch next to you, wrapping you up in the fluffy blanket. You blink up at him, exhaustion washing over your body.

Matty stares down at you, giving you a look filled with an emotion you couldn't quite pinpoint. You sigh out, feeling his body press up next to yours. He pulls you into his arms tightly, brushing his fingers through your hair.

"Thank you for that." You admit your appreciation shyly, a content smile on your lips.

Matty grins down at you, "Of course, love. Anything for you." He runs his fingers through your hair, brushing the strands out of your face. Your eyes flutter shut, unable to fight the sleep coming over you this time.

[sleepynoons]

ooc!mydei x afab!reader, nsfw, 18+, not beta read

cw: oral (giving) + deepthroating, god kink + religious themes, brief master/lord kink, praise kink (giving), exhibitionism, mentions of blood/violence/conflict, edging (???)

notes: uh. i don't really have a good defense. i saw this fanart of mydei, saw his happy trail, and blanked out. i know it's 2025 and i strongly urge people to stop centering men in their lives, but, uh, well. uh. yeah. you call him a god. anyway, he's gonna be ooc, character- and lore-wise, bc i have no fucking clue what hoyoverse is going to do to him. anyway, love yourself, i do not actually have a god kink and am not religious at all in fact lolz, but yeah, enjoy my first drabble of 2025 LMFAO

IT DOESN'T take much to satisfy you. but this – your throat constricted around mydei’s cock, jaw slack and aching, nose nestled into his happy trail – is better than anything you could ever ask for.

you could care less about the cold tile underneath your bruised knees and shins. you don’t even waver at the sounds of people coming and going. all that matters is you’re full, and with another weak inhale through your nose, you feel your mind unravel a little more at the heady scent of mydei’s sweat and natural musk.

with a moan around his length, you glance up to gauge mydei’s reaction. except there isn’t one. in all his regality and majesty, he knows how to maintain stoicism and indifference, with an air of superiority. in front of others, he can’t look weak or swayed. what he does offer, though, is a slow blink, and you catch a glint of satisfaction in the glowing red and flickering gold in his irises.

if you could, you would croon in delight. but alas, you can’t respond with more than a swallow around his cock, and you concentrate on maneuvering your tongue around it, laving over throbbing veins and warming spots that you haven’t tasted in a moment’s time.

as a result, spit coats your chin and dribbles down onto the floor, dripping onto the cold tile along with the wetness that streams down the insides of your thighs. you’d really like to touch yourself, alleviate yourself of the emptiness below, but mydei has yet to give you his permission and you do not dare to defy him even in his silence. 

as a way to distract your greedy hands, then, you rest your palms on his knees that are spread out on his throne and which cage your shuddering frame to him. had it not been for his affirmative gaze, you wouldn’t have known you were pleasuring him because his legs are grounded and still. and it’s true – it’s unimaginable that something could shake his body, honed through decades of fighting and battle to lunge and leap after spartan enemies and to withstand and hold against even the bloodiest of onslaughts. of course, then, that your pleasuring could barely affect him.

but you don’t wish to weaken mydei, to make him shuddering and trembling through your touch. your sole goal is to please him and make him feel good. after all, he doesn’t need to feel like he’s in heaven when he’s already ruling over his own paradise.

you’d argue that your devotion to him is stronger than his to his people. while that would ensue an interminable debate between the two of you, you know in your heart that you’re right.

but that train of thought is for another time, and your clouded mind can’t really muster a coherent argument as of now. so, you nuzzle your face deeper into his skin, basking in the warmth of his body and the slight pokes of his hair against your upper lip, and stretch yourself even more to accommodate his cock.

all you’d like to do is lose yourself completely, and only mydei can do that to you. he is your lord, master, god, and as someone so pious and loyal, nothing is more satisfying to you than praising and fully devoting yourself to him.

[merakiui]

So how would red riding hood Vil go about training wolf reader into being a good puppy

Someone totally not into pet play ur crazy

>:) so many thoughts for training!!!

Firstly, he’ll have you wear a collar. It’s a pretty thing, study and well-made, aesthetically pleasing craftsmanship. Perhaps it also functions as a shock collar as well or, if Vil is determined to use methods that are not so painful or risk ruining any part of you in some cosmetic way, then maybe the collar just emits a noise that sounds like a shock. You’ve no idea what to expect and maybe you’re already so tense with the threat of that hunter that you don’t even realize you haven’t been shocked. You still flinch all the same, your hands flying to your neck, but Vil clicks his tongue at you. You’ll be tricked into thinking so the more times you hear that crackle as it fools your brain with nonexistent shocks.

He dresses you in very nice clothes. He’s quite selective when it comes to fashion, and he has a very good eye for choosing based on what suits you best. Therefore, you’ll wear things that flatter your body type, that match your preferences and style (while also incorporating some of his as well), and that show off certain assets. You’ll wear lots of things with a low neckline so that your beautiful collar can be seen.

As for training, I think he starts with the house first. Teaching you proper etiquette and whatnot. You must never eat so sloppily. He’ll teach you what each utensil is for and where to arrange them on your plate once you’ve finished. These lessons are so tedious, but they’re simple enough to follow. If you’re smart enough to simply abide by his teachings, you’ll breeze through any and all of his house training. There’s just two things you loathe: the fact that Vil insists he be the one to dress you and the fact that Rook is always the one to help you bathe. Apparently, Vil has yet to see any indication from you that you’re trustworthy, so until he can trust you you’ll be supervised by either him or Rook. Or both if you’re unlucky.

You’re not sure which is worse: this demanding Red Riding Hood or that creepy hunter. >_<

If you happen to fail or refuse to comply, Vil is very simple with his punishments. You’re cut into with harsh criticisms, and they’re all the truth. Vil does not go out of his way to lie or sugarcoat when he offers his criticism. This is all meant to help you for the better. Also, he’s no fool. He’s tailored his lessons to help work on your weaknesses. He knows you’re very intelligent, perhaps too much for your own good when you try and fail to outwit and charm him or Rook into letting you go. You’re very clever. He’s merely assisting you where his assistance is needed most.

Usually, you’re given x-amount of spankings for however many minutes you refuse to cooperate. So if you remain locked in your room for fifteen minutes, to the point where Rook needs to break in to get you, you’ll be bent over the knee and spanked fifteen times. One for every minute of disobedience.

Sometimes Vil will take you outside his house in the woods and allow you to roam, but not beyond the boundaries he’s set. It’s all a test. You fell for it the first time and took off running, and Rook captured you within minutes. When it’s Rook, he’s not exactly one for punishments like Vil. He recognizes the abstract beauty in that, but he prefers to praise you for your efforts, failed though they were, instead. Scrubbing you clean from the tussle he had with you in the woods, calloused hands running down your soft skin, fingertips pressing into your shoulders to massage you, reaching to pet your ears or admire your tail. All while he rambles about how beautiful the chase you gave him was. It’s not your intention to cry out when he brushes over a bruise, nor do you mean to sound so erotic. What happens in that bath remains an easily uncovered secret, but Rook will come out of it with scratches and bites littering his forearms and throat and you’ll have a hole stuffed full of cum. >_< your every bite is like a addictive, disastrous kiss, he tells you, so it really doesn’t faze him. ;;;;

The only reason you’re not muzzled and treated more like a mutt than a person (wolf) is because Rook insists upon otherwise. And Vil agrees because, troublesome you may be, you are full of potential that he couldn’t dare stifle by demeaning you anymore than he already has.

[noirsdoll]

your mouth washing work is so good! what if curly was the one scheming the baby trapping on captain reader, like taking the condom off mid stroke (jimmy is fs the one that pushed him to do it, devil on his shoulder)

thank you so much what?!? i think curly would baby trap because he doesn’t want to lose you while he’s gone… (i didn’t see captain!reader until i was done writing it SORRY)

cw for baby trapping and a sprinkle of manipulation!! also some filthyyy smut and curly breeding kink!!

Piloting the Tulpar is like therapy for Curly. The gentle hum as the ship drifts through space, the dreamy green glow of the controls and diagnostics. He sits back in his chair, watching the blinking screen that displays the Tulpar’s trajectory.

They’re on the ending branch of their cruise, on their way back to Earth. Curly’s only thinking of one thing— you. He’s excited to get back and see your gorgeous face in person again.

Jimmy’s beside him, picking the dirt under his fingernails, tongue poking out of his mouth as he does it with utmost concentration. He’s bouncing his leg like he has somewhere to be.

“I’m thinking of putting a ring on her finger,” Curly says into the silence, “when we get back.”

“Cool.” Jimmy doesn’t look up, but he frowns, wrinkling his nose.

The quiet drags, Curly tips his head back against the seat, sighing in content. He has the whole thing planned out. He’s gonna take you to your favourite restaurant and ask them to bring over the band and play a song you like. He’s even got a whole speech that’s he knows by heart—

“That’s not gonna stop her from cheating on you.”

“What?” Curly turns to look at him.

“Yeah, well, I mean, what do you think she’s doing while she’s waiting for you to come back?” Jimmy snorts. “It’s not like you’re there to fuck her when she wants.”

Curly’s unsure of what to say. He’s never thought about it like that.

“We were gone, what, a little over a year this time?” He reclines with a creak, grinning. “Who even knows if she’ll still be there waiting for you?”

Curly frowns. “What could I do?” Jimmy’s right, what if he comes back to you and you’ve moved on or you’ve grown bored of waiting?

“Knock her up,” Jimmy says, like it’s the most obvious solution.

His eyes widen. “I couldn’t do that— We haven’t even talked about kids yet.”

Jimmy scoffs. “Then don’t talk to her about it. You want the relationship to last, right? This is the best way.”

The way Jimmy talks to him sometimes makes Curly feel like he’s looking at the world through a whole different lens, like Jimmy is expanding his horizons. And Jimmy’s right. You wouldn’t be able to leave with your belly all swollen with his kid.

So Curly does the unthinkable. When Curly gets home and you both have your habitual fucking that is more humping and groping than anything meaningful, he puts his plan into action.

Curly’s lips slot with yours, he kisses you messily. Your nails drag over the broad planes of his back as he lays you down like he has been wanting to do all this time. He thinks he almost cums just from slipping his dick in, the way your pussy clamps down on him is tighter than any hug you’ve pulled him into.

You both stare at each other for a moment, catching your breath, the air is hot and dizzying and there is so much want coursing through both of your systems. And then Curly sets his pace.

It’s sweaty and sloppy, shallow thrusts as he doesn’t want to leave your warm cunt for too long. He holds you down with one big hand spread over your stomach, fucking into you like it’s life or death.

His dick “pretends” to slip out of you, like his fat head could ever miss your cunt— it’s practically muscle memory. As he goes to realign his cock, he slips off the condom, sandwiching it into the pleats of the tousled sheets behind him.

You don’t notice, too busy moaning and whining and drooling into your pillow as Curly’s rhythm turns damn near brutal. God, he’s gonna breed you, he’s gonna fucking breed you. He can’t go back now.

Wet strings of your slick connect his hips to yours as your pussy leaks all over itself. The sounds it’s making are almost pornographic. Curly’s thumb slips on your soaked clit as he makes you cum alongside him. He read somewhere that it helps get you pregnant too.

You’re too fucked out to notice that creampie he just gave you, thick, milky cum dripping out of you. He reaches down with one finger and pushes his cum in deeper. He doesn’t want you wasting a drop.

Maybe this was a net positive, Curly thinks as he cleans you up, peppering kisses along your body and praising you for your hard work— laying there and taking it.

Now you have something to keep yourself company the next time he’s gone.

[graciedollie]

hii hi, could you make one where grayson and reader are wives and work together as council guards until one day reader arrives injured and grayson becomes extremely worried. I would really be happy if you did that! ❤️‍🩹, I love your writing, do it in your own time!!

Complications

Pair: Grayson x FemCouncilGuard!Reader

Summary: It was a pretty normal day while you were doing your normal duties, having to be sent to make an arrest in the grimy streets of Zaun. The arrest wasn’t going to go smooth obviously, but it definitely wasn’t supposed to go this way either.

Warning(s): Description of injuries (stab wound) ,mention of bleeding, swearing (ofc), reader being stubborn, Grayson scolding reader, fluff added too ofc <3, reader is kind of a smartass

A/N: I love writing for my bbg <3 also feel free to leave any requests

The sun was slowly turning in for the late evening, casting a beautiful hue of orange and purple across the hazy skies. You were handling your usual duties before you were requested by the councils, figuring it would be about handling a certain case. It didn’t take you long before you stumbled upon the large room, seeing all the members and your wife, standing attentively.

Grayson looked over at you as you stood next to her, flashing you a small smile before turning her serious focus back to the council members before one of them spoke, who happened to be council Mel Medarda.

“There have been reports of a group—preferably from the Undercity—causing havoc among our city, leading to the people being understandably upset. I trust that you will sort this problem, yes?”

Before Grayson could even speak, you quickly agreed with a swift nod and eager words. “Yes ma’am, of course. I can assure you this little mishap will be sorted.” In return, Mel gave you a soft smile and a firm nod before dismissing the both of you.

As the two of you soon left and walked along the long hallways, you were suddenly stopped by the large hands of your wife on your shoulders. You turned to look at her with a confused expression before she started to speak, “Sweetheart, I think it’s best if you let me take this one with you, yes? I know you’re well on your own, but you haven’t gone much in the Undercity as much as me.”

You couldn’t help, but grunt in slight irritation at her words, knowing she only worried for your safety—you were her wife for God’s sake. “Baby, I can do just as fine on my own. I’ll just take Marcus and backup with me, it’ll be fine.”

She narrowed her eyes at you, obviously not fond of the idea of not being partnered up with you for this case—especially such as these. Her eyes stared in yours intensely before softening, nodding slowly with a sigh.

“Alright…but, if I hear one bad thing goes down there..”

“It’ll be fine, Honey. I can handle it, plus I’ll have hep with me.

How hard could this possibly be? All you were doing is going down to the Lanes and making an arrest, nothing out of the ordinary.

Oh honey, you were wrong.

The night took over the golden sky, leaving the sky blanketed in a dark cover. Venturing into Zaun wasn’t the most extravagant thing, if you’re being honest. It was grimy. People giving you dirty looks. And definitely different from Piltover. Neon lights and signs crowded the dark streets, every angle except the dingy alleys.

The more and more you ventured into the streets, the more you realized how this arrest was going to be anything, but easy. You and your crew walked through the streets, looking around with hardened gaze at the peering standbys—obviously noticing the fiery glares.

Based on the information you and your crew were given, it seem that the group hung around a certain abandoned building—which didn’t take too long to stumble upon. You glared at the group, seeing how their teeth were yellow and how buffed they looked.

“We can make this easy or not so easy. All your choice.”

The group looked around at each other with disbelief before turning back to you with a chuckle, eyeing you as if you were prey—which you definitely seemed so to them. “Would ya look at that? Think you’re gonna take us in? We’re not going down without a damn fight.”

Sometimes you wondered why you even chose this damn job sometimes.

“Let me make this clear.”

That was all you said before you and another of your crew pulled your guns, aiming them directly at the group, earning a grunt of shock and irritation.

“Last chance.”

The group scowled at your crew as the rest of the crew pulled out the restraints, seeing how they dangled dangerously in their grasp. All of sudden, one of the members charged at you before you quickly aimed at the man before..

WHACK.

You don’t know how it happened or what did it come from, but all you knew was that you were on the floor and had blood dribbling down your lips—most likely from being brutally punched. Your eyes glared at the mysterious person, seeing them emerge from the shadow and saw that it was woman. You quickly shuffled onto your feet, looking over at your crew while they were busy handling the others before focusing your attention back to woman.

She had a nasty grin on her chapped lips, slipping a sharp knife from the back of her pants as she eyed you steadily—seeing how you were focused solely on her. “Oh c’mon, can’t handle a little punch?”

You grunted at her taunt before trying to reach for your gun, but saw that it was fucking gone? Fucking great. Luckily, you had close combat experience. You were steady on your feet, keeping eye contact with the woman before she lunged at you with her knife, causing you to lean back and grab her arm to pin it behind her back as she stumbled to the ground and the knife clatter out her hand.

“Made this way harder than it had to be.”

Your eyes narrowed down at the woman as you pinned her wrist behind the small of her back, only moving one hand to reach for the cuffs, but that was your biggest mistake. The woman quickly reached for a knife on her side and sliced you on the side of your stomach, earning a pained yelp as you scrambled back from the woman.

“Wonder how you made it this far..”

You sneered at the woman, panting heavily as you applied pressure to the bleeding wound before slowly standing up as did she. It started to feel that maybe—just maybe—you should’ve listen to your wife.

The woman chuckled lowly before quickly charging at you, but was quickly clocked in the back of her head by Marcus with a gun—specifically, your gun that was scattered to the side—successfully cuffing her. The rest of the crew cuffed the rest of the group, herding them back. He added the woman in with the her group as they were escorted away, shouting out streams of profanities and whatnot.

His eyes immediately snapped back to you as you huffed heavily, seeing the blood seep through the clothes onto your hand gradually. He quickly helped you, throwing your arm over his shoulder as he helped you walk.

“Shit—you ok? What the hell happened back there?” He grunted lowly as you both shuffled back through the grimy streets and onto the bridge, crossing over to piltover.

“Some fuckin’—shit—girl came from nowhere and just punched me…and stabbed me..” Your voice was strained and heavy, trying not to wince too much as the slash only continued to bleed heavily.

“God…do you have any idea how stupid it was to take this case? You know Grayson is already going to be on mine and your ass.”

“Mhm, I know…let’s just focus on me not dying, yeah?”

and brother, was he right.

You laid in the infirmary, laying slightly uncomfortably as the slash on your side was still recovering. The blood loss wasn’t too bad, but scary and a blessing that you survived. The infirmary was nice and quiet, despite having doctors check in on you and here and there, but that didn’t last long until..

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Your eyes shot up quickly at the familiar voice, seeing your absolutely enraged wife rushing over to your side, quickly embracing you before caressing your face with a firm grasp and stern glare.

“Baby, listen—“

“Don’t give me that! I told you that I didn’t feel right about you going there. I trusted that you could handle it. Do you have any idea how worried I was when I was informed to hear that my wife was in the infirmary—being treated for a stab wound? Do you really?”

Her voice was stern, but held a edge of obvious concern and worry—though she was pissed. You frowned slightly as she scolded you, which was definitely expected from her, but you knew she was only concerned and worried for you.

“Honey, I know you’re upset, but I handled a good bit on my own…” Your voice was raspy and low, due to being sleep for a good while or so. She let out a heavy sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose, looking at you with a gradually softening before her hand caressed her cheek.

“I know and I’m proud that you did, but still, it was a risky idea to even take that case in a first place…you could’ve let me handled it.”

Though she was pissed, she still was worried and highly concerned for her dear wife, who happened to look like an angel despite being injured. Her thumb brushed over your cheek, gazing at you with obvious fret in her eyes as she murmured softly, “I swear I have to keep my patience in check with you…”

“Aww, I know you still love me.”

She couldn’t help, but chuckle at your cocky little remark, looking at you with a raised brow and an amused smile etched on her lips before brushing her hand over your thighs.

“Of course, I do, love. Though sometimes you make me want to strangle you..”

“Like how that woman wanted to before she stabbed me?”

Her eyes widened in surprise at your worst-timing joke, glaring at you with a tight pursed frown on her lips as she pointed a finger at you, “That is not funny.”

“What, you brought it up!?”

It would definitely be a wild before you ever got a case to go back to Zaun…it was definitely for the best to avoid complications.

hope you enjoyed and hoped this was to your liking, anon <3

[writing-whenever-whatever]

Your duty is here 

Velaryon (strong) reader x cregan stark 

Summary : you’re lucerys twin sister the only daughter to Rhaenyra is sent with your older brother Jace to winterfell to meet your betrothed lord cregan stark for the first time after your marriage to lord stark things start to go wrong leaving you and your family with holes in their hearts

Warnings : Warnings : 18+ mdni, p in v sex, f!oral, blood, loosing virginity, fingering, praise kink, cream pie, talk of pregnancy, hickeys, arranged marriage, wedding drama, jealousy, death, grief, loving family, comfort, use of high Valyrian, not proof read

———————————————————————

It’s early in the morning when I’m sat in my room watching the sun rise through my window as I hear a knock on my door and enters one of my maids to help me dress and prepare for the day and the travels I have ahead of me. 

“ good morning Katia” I look at her smiling sweetly “ what dress have you got me for my travels today” i see her walk in holding a thick black and red dress that’s suitable for travelling on dragon back “ this is the dress your mother wishes you to wear and then we’ll pack you some others for when you’re there” I smile at her “ thank you katia” I smile as I stand up and she starts helping me into the dress lacing it up  from the back tightly “ you’ll be grateful for the thick material we chose once you reach the north the weather is known to be not as warm as it is hear” she says gently pulling the laces till the dress fits snug against my figure. 

“ have you ever been north katia” I look at her my eyes drifting to the floor slightly “ I haven’t princess but I’m sure you’ll enjoy your life there I’ve heard lord cregan stark  is a kind man” I nod looking at her “ I hope so” I sigh quietly katia runs her fingers through my hair platting sections into a half up half down look taming my wild dark curls as I hear a knock on my door “ enter” I call out still facing the large mirror that sits opposite my bed. 

Luce walks in dragging his feet as he’s dressed in his dragon riding gear his hair is slightly messy and he smiles at me as he sees how beautiful I look “ you look lovely sister” he says walking to me “ thank you Luce I’m glad you like it” I say hugging him “ I can’t believe we’re being separated “ I look down sadness filling my face he rests his hand on my cheek “ hey don’t be like that we have a connection and I’ll never be too far away I promise “ he runs his thumb sliding across my cheek bone stroking it gently “ promise to write” I look at him as he nods “ i promise I’ll right as soon as I return back from storms end and you must tell me everything of this cregan stark I must know if he is deserving of my sweet twin” I giggle at his protective nature “ I’m sure Jace would step in if he isn’t suitable brother trust me” I kiss his cheek “ let us go to breakfast before we all depart” he says taking my hand in his as we walk to the dining hall in dragon stone. 

The early morning sun is draping through the window as we sit at the table me Luce and Jace on one side baela and rhaena on the other mother and Damon at each end as plates of fruit, cakes, meat and cheeses are brought out on platters i sit taking a bunch of grapes eating them slowly not wanting to eat too much knowing it would make me ill if I ate too much before flying. 

I look over at my brothers who are stuffing themselves with meats and cakes as if it is thier last good meal in a while I look up at my mother “ what do they eat in the north” I question placing a grape in my mouth “a lot of warm foods like stew, pie and bread but they do have cakes too” my mother looks at me a gentle smile on her face as I scrunch my nose up at the thought of eating nothing but stew “ you’ll adjust y/n do not worry sweetling” she giggles at my displeasure “ I don’t think I will” I look down slightly picking up some of the food on the table passing it to the maid next to me “ please have some of this packed in my bag for later thank you” Jace laughs at me a large toothy grin on his face “ you’ll be fine y/n” he touches the back of my hand “ trust me” I look down nodding slightly going quiet Luce looks at me he leans into my ear whispering “ if you hate it then I’ll come for you” I giggle my face lifting into a smile as he places a soft kiss on my cheek I see rhaena’s lip twitch in disgust her eyes burning into me filled with jealousy as she rises from her seat leaving the table without asking, baela soon follows concerned about her sister as she rushes off. 

Rhaenyra sighs slightly watching the two girls run off “ it’s only for a few days y/n then you’ll come back home or if you like it there you can stay and grant  lord cregan stark as your husband “ I look at her “ I do not want a husband I want to fight I want to help you and the family get your birth right back” daemon lets out a laugh as rhaenyra bangs on the table rising from her seat “ you’re doing your part y/n it’s not safe for you” I sigh going quiet again daemon looks at me “ your mother was like you once now look at her a loyal wife and she enjoys married life and so will you” I nod staying quiet now letting my eyes stay down on my lap instead of looking at anyone at the table. I finally rise from my seat “ I’m going to finish getting ready” I walk off without another word. 

I walk into my chambers again seeing katia and two other maids packing my bags “ they just want to sell me off “ I pace back and forth “ that’s all mother wants to do “ katia grabs my shoulders stoping my pacing “ calm down princess your mother is doing what is best for you what will keep you safe” I look at her “ your on her side you think I’m weak that I can not fight” I pull myself away from her “ who else thinks such a thing is true” tears well in my eyes “ listen to my y/n she just wants you safe in the north instead of being made to fight in this war and taken by the greens as a prisoner god knows what aegon would do to a woman prisoner” I shudder at the thought pulling away from her “ I can not be useful if bound to a bed chamber with a swollen belly” she shakes her head “ you are useful you are passing on your mothers legacy continuing her blood line” I sit on the edge of the bed “ do what you can to make your mother proud from a safe distance princess it is what is best” she rests her hand on my knees crouching in front of me as I nod.

A few moments pass and the maids close my bags finally finishing the packing I get up hugging Katia and the other two “ if I do not return be safe and thank you for being so kind” I smile sweetly as they hug me back I turn to see Jace in the door way “ you ready” he tilts his head his curls falling infront of his face making me giggle “ I am brother” he smiles as I walk to him he rests his hand on my lower back guiding me to the steps down to the dragon pit where mother and Luce are talking as I walk closer Luce looks at me a smile on his face “ next time I see you you may be a married woman” his eyes filled with pride “ we do not know that for certain I haven’t even met the man yet and I do not see myself getting married without my twin by my side” he wraps his arms around me enveloping me in a tight squeeze pushing my head to his chest “ Jorrāelagon ao lēkia” ( love you brother) I mumble into his chest as he kisses the top of my head “Jorrāelagon ao tolī mandia sir sagon ȳgha se remember naejot bardugon” (Love you more sister now be safe and remember to write) I take in his scent one more time before he lets go stepping back letting mother step forward “ y/n be on your best behaviour in the north promise me you will give lord cregan a chance” I nod “ the journey will be a long one and it will be very different from dragon stone but you’ll grow to love it” she rests her hand on my cheek “ be safe” 

she turns to Jace continuing to talk to him as I make my way into the dragon pit where my dragon Xylix is resting she is a beautiful dragon who is young but also extremely large in size bigger than vermax and arrax who are both older than her, her scales are a cool toned silver with black tinges to I them her eyes are a bright orange and she has spikes that travel down from the top of her head to the bottom of her tail “ Skorkydoso issi īlon tubī dōna hāedar” ( how are you today sweet girl) I coo running my hands along her scaled neck her head tilts to me as she nudges me playfully I giggle “Issi ao ready syt nykeā bōsa jēda hen sōvegon” ( are you ready for a long time of travel?) She lets out a low rumbling noise joint by a clicking I smile as she lowers herself as if preparing for me to mount my saddle

 I can hear jaces footsteps coming into the pit as I climb onto Xylix’s back as he comes into sight and vermax comes out to meet him “ are you ready to fly sister “ he asks his voice calm and caring “ I’m ready brother I shall meet you in the skys” I hold onto the saddle “Sōvegon xylix vermax jāhor join īlva isse se jēdar” (Fly xylix, vermax will join us in the sky) she starts flapping her wings moving herself out of the pit and as the fresh air hits my skin soon enough we’re in the sky flying a few minutes pass and Jace joins me flying next to me I can see lucerys flying on arrax in the opposite direction. 

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We stay flying for hours through the thick growing clouds watching as the sun starts to fade in the distance making the skys glow in oranges and pinks it’s beautiful “ sister we should stop to rest we’ve been flying for 10 hours straight “ Jace cry’s across to me “ is it safe to land here” I look at him furrowing my eye brows “ it is safe for a break we shall rest and refresh for a while then we can take off again” he smiles at my concern “ Tegon xylis sīr īlon kostagon rest” (land xylis so we can rest) I call out following in jaces actions as both our dragons lower down from the skies towards the ground. 

As we land near the vale we set up camp by a tree I look at Jace watching as he sets up a fire and takes out blankets “ sister rest” he looks at me “ I am ok Jace I’ll rest when I need it” I smile resting my head back against the soft green grass surrounding us I watch the Skys as they turn slightly darker “ isn’t beautiful “ he looks at me “ what is” he questions as he settles himself next to me “ nature it is beautiful when not destroyed by peoples actions” I sigh as he wraps his arms around me in a close embrace “ rest little sister you need to rest we take off again in 5 hours” I rest my head against him “ it will be night soon brother are you sure it’ll be safe” I tilt my head “ the night will be smoother than the day a little wind or rain maybe but we’ll be ok” he smiles as I rest my eyes and i slowly start to relax. 

When I wake there are two skinned birds cooking on the fire I look at Jace who’s sat watching them cook as the sky grows darker “food will be ready soon sister” he says softly running his fingers through my hair “ have the dragons eaten anything “ I tilt my head looking up at him “ they have had some food but they will be fed properly at winterfell” I rest my head on his shoulder “ i understand how much longer do we fly “ I look at him sweetly as he passes me one of the birds “ a day and a half it is quite a long journey but if we do it with few breaks it will go well” I nod agreeing with him as I tuck in to the bird. 

After another hour I get up ready to start flying again “ I’m ready brother let us leave” the skies are now black twinkling with stars as we rise up into them there is a slight twinge in the air that brings chills but we go onwards flying till sun rise and on further. 

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A few days pass and we finally arrive in winterfell the cold air freezes my bones causing me to shiver and Xylix grumbled her scales burning hot trying to keep her warm as we settle onto the ground that’s covered in a white powdery substance that crunches under foot i climb off her back and run straight to Jace uncertain of this strange new place. 

We see two lower class men leave the gates of winterfell with lanterns to light up the path from the growing darkness of night “ prince princess welcome to winterfell” they greet us bowing slightly “ lord cregan is waiting inside along with a hot meal for you both” the man offers me his arm to hold onto but I ignore it holding onto Jace I turn to look at xylix one lay time “Umbagon kesīr xylix sagon sȳz” (Stay here xylix be good ) Jace smiles at me as we turn and start to walk to the gates of winterfell. 

When we finally enter the winterfell castle the warm still air along with the smell of steak pie and ale hits me I hold onto jace more as I feel all the men in the room who are sat tucking into plates of food then to stare at us “ Skoros issi pōnta jurnegēre rȳ” (what are they staring at?) I look up at him furrowing my brows as I swallow a rising lump in my throat “ Pōnta’re admiring aōha gevie dōna mandia Ziry’s daor tolvie tubis pōnta’re isse se company hen royalty” (they admiring your beauty sweet sister it’s not every day they’re in the company of royalty) he says brushing a stray curl behind my ear. 

A large man stands up walking over to us from the front of the hall he’s in thick fur clothes a direwolf pin holding his cloak to his shoulders his shoulder length brown hair is untamed and wild his deep grey eyes boring into me “ prince princess it is great to have you in winterfell” he bows slightly as he rises a small smile is toying on his lips “ you must be lord cregan stark” Jace says smiling giving me a slight side eye as I fidget uncomfortably as I keep my eyes connected with the lord stark’s. 

“ you must be exhausted we have food and refreshments prepared for you and then there are rooms ready for you with your belongings” I smile looking at him “ thank you my lord “ he nods at me before leading us to the table where he was occupied prior to greeting us “ i hope you do not mind that you will both be sat next to me” he jests “ we do not mind at all lord stark it is best that you and my sister are well introduced “ Jace smiles as I roll my eyes as cregan pulls out my chair for me I sit down “ thank you” I say as he pushes me back to the table I giggle a light blush rising to my face “ you northerners seem to be very strong my lord” he looks at me a smirk rising to his face “ the stronger the people the more work gets done princess” he sits next to me taking a sip from his cup ale.

“ I guess you’re right with that” I sigh looking down at the plate of pie, mash and veg that has been placed infront of me by a servant I look at her a gentle smile on my face “ thank you” she simply nods before rushing away “ this food is very different from what we have at home” Jace says a uncertain smile on his face as he takes his fork in his hand poking at the food on his plate “ it’s best to eat hot food with the cold weather here” cregan says looking at me “ but I’m sure when you’re my lady wife the kitchen staff can make anything you want” I blush more as I take a mouthful “ this is delicious” I smile at him as I take more “ I’m glad you like it” cregan says smiling as he starts to eat his own pie. 

I sit back after eating half of the food on my plate feeling full up “ are you alright princess you haven’t finished your plate “ cregan looks at me concerned I look at him sweetly as Jace pipes up “ my sister doesn’t have much of an appetite for savoury foods “ i glare across at him “Gaomagon daor embarrass issa lēkia” (do not embarrass me brother) I snap as he looks at me smugly “Lo ziry’s going naejot sagon aōha valzȳrys, ziry’ll emagon naejot gīmigon everything bē ao” (if he’s going to be your husband, he’ll have to know everything about you) cregan sits back observing our little spat as we go back and forth arguing in high valerian he seems entertained as he observes us “I do not mind princess everyone has a preference “ cregan rests his large rough hands in the back of mine making a red blush rise to my cheeks “what’s your favourite treat ” he looks at me tilting his head “ I like jam tarts and lemon cakes but I love natural fruits too like grapes, apples and berries” I look at him smiling “ do you have a sweet tooth cregan” he sits back on his chair thinking for a second “ I have bitter pallet than a sweeter one “ I nod smiling up at him “ I guess opposites attract” Jace jests looking at me “Lo ao istan dēmagon hembar naejot issa nyke would actually hīlagon ao” (if I was sat next to you right now I’d actually hit you) i spit at him slightly but all i get in response is an entertained laugh leaving jaces mouth as he leans back on his chair “ it’s Clear she likes you lord stark” he says through gasps for air as he keeps laughing clutching his sides “ I’m glad to hear that princess being you’re quite beautiful and sweet I’d be glad to call you my wife” I hide my face in my hands blushing violently “ thank you cregan you’re kind but I must know you more before making a decision “ he chuckles a low gruff laugh “ I understand and I’ll enjoy getting to know you through your visit”.

As the night goes on me and cregan get to know a lot about each other he learns that I’m lucerys younger twin sister my favourite foods hobbies and that I’m desperate to do my duty for my mothers corse even if it means not being able to fight in my mothers name. I learn that cregan is the eldest son of rickon stark that he has a younger brother who passed early in life he gained the title of lord of winterfell and warden of the north when he was ten and three and that he is a loyal man who believes in holding an oath no matter the consequences. 

As I get to know him more I sit sipping a cup of wine slowly falling for him as he looks at me a smile on his face my heart flutters “ people really didn’t over exaggerate your beauty y/n “ he smirks as I flutter my eyelashes “ you should know that beauty is power” I giggle at him as he looks confused “ how” I lean forward resting my elbow on the table “ well if your beautiful more people are loyal to you they gift you things and just will do anything to be in your presence “ i explain looking up at him a look of pride on my face “ how did you learn this” he furrows his brows “ I learnt it young when I started to develop my uncles started to lust over me I learned I could ask for anything they’d do it and they’d gift things to me just to see me smile” I giggle remembering how aegon and Aemond treated me so well just to be near me “ well I’m glad you’re here now you can use your beauty here in the north” I giggle looking at him “ you’re quite beautiful your self my lord” I run my fingers through his hair “ you flatter me princess” i giggle as he kisses my cheek “ it’s getting late may I walk you to your chambers” I blush more nodding as I take his arm “ good night brother see you in the morrow” i kiss his cheek before leaving with cregan. 

He walks me to a rather large bed chamber with a large crackling fire burning a four poster bed with thick furs as well as bed sheets the window had a view of the gods wood that has trees of red and orange mixed with that same white that greeted us earlier today then in the wash room there is a steaming hot bath prepared as I look around the room .

cregan comes up behind me resting he’s hand on my waist “ I do hope you like this room but if you become my wife I hope even more well share a bed chambers” I turn around to look at him “ I would like that a lot” I giggle as I wrap my arms around his neck going on my tiptoes to kiss his lips leaving him slightly shocked as I walk away into the bathing room “ good night cregan” I call out as I unlace my dress giving him a small glimpse of my naked body before I slip into the tub “ good night princess “ he stutters out extremely flustered before leaving. 

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Cregan goes back to my brother who is still sat in the hall drinking ale and talking to the northerners he sits back in his seat “ your sister is quite the cheeky minx my prince” his face still red with blushing “ I’m glad she likes you, you aren’t the first she’s been offered a marriage from most of them she despised I think she was expecting mother to betroth her to lucerys but he is already with a woman as am I” he looks at cregan a smile on his face as he sees an intrigued look on him 

“ her and lucerys are very close but do not be alarmed by it tis just the twin bond they hold” he chuckle “ my prince I have learnt a lot about your sister this evening she even shared her lips with mine is it enough to marry her” he questions “ leave it another day you must see her in the day time not just in the night she may seem different” he looks at cregan pride in his eyes “ you will look after her won’t you” he says voice wavering slightly “ of course will my prince she will be safe by my side now and always”. 

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As the morning sun rises I look out of my window seeing cregan and a hunting team out in the woods I sit there watching resting my head inn my hands as I admire him I do not realise Jace walking into my room he creeps up next to me “ what are you looking at”I jump out my skin falling back off my chair he laughs historically “nothing I wasn’t looking at anything “ he pulls me up off the floor “ well it seems you were staring at lord stark” he tease me “ he is lovely isn’t he” I look at him red blush flushing my face “I’m glad you’ve found your someone sister” he pulls me into an embrace “he is fond of you” he looks down at me “ he wishes to marry you” I blush more nodding “ I’d like that” I giggle as Jace twirls me around playfully “my sweet little sister a beautiful bride you shall make” he looks at me eyes full of pride as he lets go of my hand “ get dressed I shall meet you in the hall” he smiles as I rush to my wardrobe where all my clothes have been unpacked.

I look through them all of them thick and warm to protect me from the chill of the north I pick out a dark blue dress it had a silver belt around the waist with the Targaryen crest in the centre, a low neck line that has a fur collar and long sleeves I look in the mirror as I tie my own laces tightening them as much as I can till it fits snug then I run my fingers through my wild curls then going to join Jace in the hall. 

I run down the long stone corridors stumbling slightly as my feet slip on an odd bit of ice that’s made its way into the castle making me giggle as I walk into the hall standing next to Jace “ you look beautiful sister” he rests his hand on mine holding it gently “ thank you” I giggle looking up at him “ I feel like I’ll have fun here” he pulls me into a hug “ good I’m glad” he pulls away to take a seat at the table “ oh I forgot to tell you that Luce had to go back to dragon stone the weather was too torrential to travel to storms end and mother instructed him to go back in a week” I sit back “ is he ok is he safe” trying to hide the panic in my voice “ he is fine y/n he’s safe” I nod taking a deep breath to calm myself as I see cregan enter into into the hall. 

“ lord stark good morning “ I smile as he walks towards us he has white flex of snow in his hair and on the fur of his jacket “ good morning y/n did you sleep well” he asks taking his seat next to me “ very well thank you” I look up at him smirking “how did you sleep” I take his hand in mine looking at him “ I slept well thank you princess “ I lean in close to his ear whispering to him “ did you dream of me” he blushes violently I giggle more he wraps his arm around me “ you cheeky minx” he pulls me into his lap I sit across his lap looking at Jace a wide grin on my face “ I know it’s still not been long but will you marry me now” I look up at cregan “ perhaps” I look at him a smug smile on my face as I lean in my lips inches away from his “ I like you cregan stark you’re a good man not like some of the other people that have offered me their hand” my soft breath hitting his face “ i believe I may marry you” he pulls me into kissing me roughly and passionately his hands on my waist as i wrap my arms around his neck have sits back watching it in shock.

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As the day goes on I adventure out the castle walls going into the woods exploring the wintery wonderland that surrounds me going deep into the trees picking up the fallen leaves then I find a large tree with winding roots I sit under it taking out a book i’d brought with me about the histories of winterfell and start reading loosing myself to the history of the north. I read for hours not noticing the snow falling from the sky as the day starts fading away. I hear footsteps getting closer to me suddenly I put my book down looking up at cregan who is looking down at me “ it’s getting cold out here princess “ he sits next to me “ I must have lost myself in thought I’m so sorry “ he pulls me into him “ tis ok I’m glad you’re adjusting to the north well” I rest my head on his shoulder “ this place is so peaceful “ I look at him smiling sweetly “ come on let us go inside before the snow swallows us” I nod getting up holding onto his strong arm as we go back into the castle.

“ since you agreed to being my wife the wedding will take place later this week” I tilt my head looking up at him “ why so soon are you that desperate for me” I giggle teasing him slightly “ well I was told by the prince your brother lucerys would be able to come  but any time later he’ll be busy” I blush looking up at him “ thank you for making sure he can come “ I rest my head on him “ i know he’s important to you” he holds me close as we finally get back into the castle. 

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Within the next few days everything had been sorted it seems slightly rushed but it’s gone well. It’s two days till the wedding when mother and lucerys arrive with baela and rhaena when I see them outside the gate I run out the door excited to see them I run straight to Luce and hug him tightly basically jumping into his arms “ my beautiful sister how are you” he holds me a big smile on his face “ I’m great but I’ve missed you” he smiles looking down at me as I rest my feet back on the floor “ I’m glad to hear your betrothal to cregan has been going well” my mother speaks up looking at me “ he is so lovely mother” I assure her smiling happily as I see cregan walking out the doors of the castle “ my queen it’s good to have you and your family in winterfell for our wedding “ he smiles looking at how I join his side looking extremely excited to see my family again.

Rheana and baela both look me up and down with a look of hatred in thier face that makes my stomach drop I’ve always known that they don’t like me but they’ve never looked at me like that as they push thier way into the castle of winterfell cravens eyes follow them a small scowl growing in his face “ don’t worry about them cregan they are jealous of the attention i get from my brothers” he wraps his arm around my shoulder pressing his face against my cheek “ they don’t deserve the attention you get my love” i giggle blushing violently as he turns back to my family resting his hands on the small of my back “ let us go inside the castle so we can properly welcome you all.” He smiles turning to walk into the castle with everyone following behind him.

He leads to the hall where a feast has been prepared “ welcome to the north” he smiles “ you can drink and eat as much as you want we are celebrating” he chuckles “ you aren’t married yet cregan” my mother looks at him “ we must celebrate the fact that you are here in the north my queen” he looks at me I smile “ we are simply excited mother tis all” she rests her hand on my cheek “ as long as you’re happy my girl” I giggle “ I am very happy mother” she looks at me smiling running her hand over my head placing a kiss on my forehead “ we shall celebrate then” she smiles. 

As the celebrations commence I sit next to Luce my head resting on his shoulder as we talk in high valerian “Nyke istan sīr zūgagon bona ao wouldn’t settle kesīr” ( I was so concerned that you wouldn’t settle here) Luce whispers to me holding my hand in his “Nyke emagon settled sȳrī lēkia gaomagon daor zūgagon”(I have settled well brother do not fear ) he kisses my forehead gently ignoring the evil stares that rhaena gives us “Aōha jorrāelagon daor raqagon issa” ( your betrothed doesn’t like me) I look at rhaena as I lean to lucerys cheek kissing it “Gaomagon daor torment zȳhon mandia” ( do not torment her sister) he chuckles looking at me with a beaming smile on his face cregan turns to look at both of us a smile on his face “ jace was right to say your behaviours together is quite peculiar” i look at him giggling “ don’t be jealous cregan our love is simply a twin bond” cregan smiles “ i do not mind i like the fact family means a lot to you” he kisses my cheek pulling me back to him making me squeal quietly and giggle “ im glad my sister has found a loving man such as yourself” Luce looks at cregan smiling “ but if you hurt her at all I will come for you” he keeps a smile on his face before tucking into the food on his plate. 

Cregan looks down at me raising his eyebrow slightly concerned by luce’s threat “ tis a jest he’s joking” i giggle resting my head against him “ but you aren’t gonna hurt me so he’d never need to hurt you” i take a swig of wine from my cup before continuing with the celebration. 

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Days pass fast and on the morning of my wedding day it I wake up early the cold winter air blowing through the window I rise from the bed and close it quickly wrapping my blankets around my shoulders I go to the bathing chambers climbing into the freshly drawn bath washing myself scrubbing my skin raw till I feel clean and ready as I get out the bath wrapped in a towel as I re enter my room. 

I hear my door open and Luce walks in “ are you nervous sister” he takes my hand in his “ a little “ I look up at him a nervous smile on my face as he pulls me closer hugging me “ you’re the bravest girl I’ve ever met y/n the north will suit you and if you ever need me I am only a short flight away”I rest my head against on his chest listening to his heart beat “to think this was the first sound I ever heard “ he chuckles looking down at me as he runs his hand down my back “please don’t forget me” I look up at him he shakes his head “ how could I ever forget my beautiful twin you’re half of me” he smiles kissing my head “ can you help me get ready for the wedding” I look up at him as his smile widens “ of course it would be a honour” 

He helps me get into my dress it’s a beautiful gold scaled thick dress that fits tightly around my figure with white furs round my neck it’s bound with a ruby infused chain he then sits me in front of him as he plats my hair into a tight bun then he places a ruby hair pin into my hair. I look at myself in the mirror staring at my reflection “ I’m beautiful” I mumble happy tears prickling my eyes as I hug him “ you are always beautiful sister” he envelopes me in his embrace keeping me close to him protectively. 

We stay together in my chambers for hours talking over everything he keeps me close to him soothing my anxieties “ I love you brother” I look at him sweetly as he kisses my forehead “ love you too” I smile up at him as he strokes my arm “ I need to go get ready i shall see you at the special time” he squeezes my hand excitedly I giggle “ thank you” I smile “I shall always be there for you” he walks out leaving me in my chamber alone.

A few hours pass and my mother comes to my chambers “ are you ready sweetling “she rests her hand on my shoulder looking over my dress and hair “ I’m ready mother” I smile excitedly but she can see a glimps of anxiety behind my eyes “ if your father could see you right now he’d be so proud “ she runs her hand over my cheek  placing a kiss on my head “ come let’s go “ she holds my arm and we walk to the gods wood under the protective leaves of the giant autumn trees there are people gathered, the people of the north on one side my brothers and thier betrothed in the other as mother walks me down to the end of the isle till I’m stood face to face with cregan she lets go of my arm and takes her place next to my brothers. 

Cregan looks down at me a smile on his face “ you look beautiful “ he whispers down to me “ so do you” I giggle looking into his deep grey eyes and take his hands into mine holding them smiling up at him  the officiants announces “Let it be known that lord cregan stark of the house of stark and y/n velaryon of house velaryon are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.” There’s a brief moment of silence as he continues “ In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words” he looks down at me “Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am his and he is mine, from this day, till the end of my days.” Then cregan repeats “Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am hers, and she is mine, from this day, till the end of my days.” Then we meet each other in a long passionate kiss as everyone cheers in celebration as cregan lifts me from the ground making me giggle and squeal as he carries me bridal style towards the hall. 

The doors are open and the hall has a feast laid out of all our favourite foods music and a dance floor the room is decorated with snapdragons, snow drops and daffodil bouquets on eat table and glowing candles lit around the room I wrap my arms around cregan’s neck kissing him passionately “ will you dance with me later” I look at him excited he looks down at me chuckling “ if it’ll make my lady wife happy “ I smile more nodding excitedly as he sits at his place of the table sitting me on his lap comfortably placing his hand on my waist.

A sweet selection of fruits is placed infront of me while cregan is given a pint of ale and a bowl of beef stew I look at him “ you’re not expecting me to eat that are you “ I pull a face slightly as he takes a mouthful chewing it before speaking “it would be nice for you to try it but I know how picky you can be” he tickles my sides slightly making me giggle “ fine I’ll try it for you my love” I look at him smiling as he brings a spoonful to my lips I take it into my mouth chewing it quickly and swallowing as quick as I can pulling a face shaking my head he laughs watching my face “ I think I’ll stick to my fruit thank you” I pick up a grape and placing it into my mouth to get rid of the taste He layfhs more stealing a grape from my plate eating it a smug look on his face as he enjoys it.

After a few cups of wine I come up with the great idea to go dance with the guests as cregan sits watching a smirk plastered on his face Luce comes to join me he holds out his hand to me “ shall we dance sweet sister” I take his hand “ we shall” he twirls me about childishly as we dance having fun 

rhaenas lip curls and she walks to cregan sitting next to him “ why don’t you do something about them” she looks at him an angry twinge present in her voice “ I want my wife to enjoy herself and I see no harm in letting her dance with her twin” he doesn’t even look at her his eyes fixed on us a smile still on his face as he sees how I dance so happily and freely not even notice when rhaena gets up

She  walks towards me pushing me away from Luce the music suddenly stops suddenly cregan rises from his seat ready to jump in to protect me “ you are always stealing him from me he is my betrothed mine and now you’re a married woman but you still steal him from me” she yells at me tears welling in her eyes as she strucks me down to the ground I hold my cheek that is tending from the blow my face a look of shock “ how dare you talk to me like that how dare you lay your hands on me” i rise back to my feet my pride taking over as I slap her with my full strength my eyes full of fury “ are you that stupid to not see that I love my brother as a brother I am not trying to get in his bed” she stares at me in disbelief “ now if you do not mind I wish to enjoy my wedding celebration if you can not enjoy it you can leave” I point to the door she looks at Luce wanting him to stand up for her but he shakes his head staying by my side as she storms off. “ let the music play have drinks have fun what is a wedding without a few family problems “ I jest a kind smile spreading across my face as we go back to dancing and the celebration continues into the night. 

As I get exhausted from dancing with the northerners and my brothers I rush back to cregan sitting in his lap resting my head against his chest “ you still haven’t danced with me” I look up at him with big eyes it makes him smile “ I will soon I promise “he rests his chin on top of my head as I take a swig of wine “ this reminds me of the celebrations that would take place in kings landing” I rest my head back against him remembering how much fun we all used to have “before the war and even before Aemond lost his eye we would all dance and play sneaking wine out of our parents cups” I giggle “ twas such fun” I lets out a sigh “ it is a shame this war had to ruin such a thing” he kisses my head holding me closer in his embrace “ you’re trying to guilt trick me” i giggle looking up at him “ is it working “ he chuckles “ maybe” I rise from his lap dragging him up to come dance.

We dance for hours cregan pulling me into his strong arms as he twirls me around towards him I rest my head on his chest as we slowly dance I look up at him a smile on my face “ thank you for becoming my husband “ he scoffs at me “ you’re so beautiful and kind I’m grateful to have you as my wife” I blush as he leans down kissing me passionately “ it is getting late perhaps we should retreat to our chamber” he looks down at me smirking suggestively “ we shall” I giggle kissing him more “ we may return to the celebrations later if you wish” he says gentle as we walk towards the door of the hall “ let’s see how this goes first my love” he nods letting me take his arm as we walk out. 

As we reach our chamber the large wooden doors open as we enter the room is much larger than the chambers I had occupied prior the fire is burning and the room is lit up with an assortment of candles there are tapestries across the walls depicting stories of hunting along side wolves and this history of the starks in the centre of the room is a large four poster bed with piles of fur blankets on it to keep the cold out 

Cregan kisses my neck gently his rough stubble tickling me slightly as I lean back into his touch my breath hitched in pleasure as his hands move to undo the laces of my dress “ my beautiful wife” he mutters against my neck a blush riding to my cheek as my dress falls from my body and pools around my feet I let him see me as I am turning to face him his eyes wander across my frame a smile on his face “ aren’t you gonna join me in such a vulnerable state cregan” I look up at him giggling I reach to undo his trousers, loosen the furs and remove his leathers leaving him in his breaches and me in my small clothes “ do you like what you see my love” I tilt my head as he raises his eyebrow at me he suddenly picks me up throwing me over his shoulder giggles and squeals escape me as he places a firm slap against my ass “ you’re mine my love all mine” he chuckles as he throws me down onto the cushioned bed “ i want you to say it” he orders looking at me “ say what my lord husband “ i giggle teasingly

 “ you are mine” his voice is low and gruff as he moves his hand down my underwear running his fingers through my soaked folds making me gasp slightly “ so wet “ he coos moving his fingers to my pearl rubbing it circles making me moan more he sits up suddenly pulling my small clothes off as he pulls my legs over his shoulders taking his place between my thighs he kisses down my lower stomach soon taking my clit into his mouth sucking in it then using his hand he slips two fingers inside of me  moving them in and out at a rough pace taking what he wants causing a desperate whine to escape me my legs quivering slightly as he slowly becomes rougher grazing his teeth over my clit my breath hitching more as he pounds his fingers into me hitting the deepest spots I didn’t even know existed. I grip onto his head scrunching fistfuls of his hair as I push myself against his tongue moaning so loudly that the people out side the room can probably hear me. I can feel the knot in my stomach tightening more and more as my body starts to quiver “ cregan~” I moan out my eyes rolling back as I scream out my whole body shaking as I release over his tongue and fingers I hear a satisfied grunt come from cregan as he laps up my juices. 

He pulls away moving up the bed laying next to me he wraps his arms around me drawing patterns on my bare skin as I continue to tremble panting to catch my breath. “ you alright my love” he looks down at me I roll into his embrace burying my head into his chest “ i feel all overstimulated” he chucked at me kissing my head “ are you ok to continue” he raises his eyebrow slightly I nod looking up at him “ use your words sweetling” he runs his hand over my cheek cupping it gently “ I’m alright “ my voice is quiet and slightly shaky as I finally managed to steady my breathing. 

I lean up kissing cregan passionately I mumble against his lips “ I’m ready “ he smirks at me as he unties his breaches and letting me see everything I stare at his solid member and back up at him “ I promise to be gentle “ he kisses my forehead head as I lay back down on the bed he moves my legs to be as spread as they can he as he leans to be on top of me he lines himself up slowly letting his length slip into my entrance making a long uncomfortable whine escape my lips he strokes my hair gently“ shhh it’s ok you’re doing so well” he coos slowly pushing more into me  till he’s at the hilt making more sound to escape me and tears to well in my eyes he keeps stroking his hand through my hair and down my cheek “ you’re doing so well” he kisses me gently as he allows  me adjust to the new sensation and waiting for the sting to fade.

A few minutes pass I look up at him “ I’m gonna start to move “ he slowly starts to thrust moving at a slow pace I grip onto the bed sheets as he thrusts I let out small moans as the sting fades completely being replaced with pleasure he keeps thrusting at this slow pace as I rest my head back moans echoing through the room “ faster cregan please~” I beg as he places kisses on my neck leaving a dark purple mark as his pace changes to a faster rougher one. 

I rip my hands off the bed sheets and grip onto his back digging my nails in leaving long red scratches as I grip onto him his low grunts and growls escaping him as he pounds harder into me my moans getting loud and loud as my mind suddenly goes black and foggy I wrap my legs around him letting him get deeper into me as he thrusts everything he has into me his pubic bone causing friction against my clit causing everything to get lost in the moment I lean up kissing him passionately our moans mixing together escaping with ever breath he can feel every thigh tightening around him as I start to reach my peak “ such a good girl~” he praises as my nails grip harder into his back enough to tear through the skin as I moan out his name he keeps his ruthless pace pounding harder and deeper animalistic growls leaving his lips as I bite down on his bottom lip when he hits my g spot and I gasp out letting go of his lip as I start babbling nonsense as I try to form words the only thing I can get out is “ PLEASE~YES~” as he abuses the spot inside me my legs start to feel like jelly and I feel everything tightening more “ you gonna cum~” he asks me through gruff groans I simply nod my moans changing pitch as a smirk grows on his face pounding harder 

“ FUCK~” I scream out feeling everything snap and my release washes over me my  whole body shaking as I throw my head back moaning so loud everyone can hear he keeps pounding into me both fucking me through my high and trying to get his release as my walls pulse around him he lets out a long grown as he spills his seed deep with in me the warmth spreading through me as he thrusts deep into me  both of us pant desperately to catch our breath  he leans down kissing my cheek “ you did so well” he soon pulls out rolling to the  side of me pulling me into his arms holding me “ I’m yours cregan 100% yours” I pant out closing my eyes letting the passion of the moment last as long as it can as I let my self rest on his chest for a while. 

———————————————————————

When I wake up a few hours later I’m alone cregan must have gone back to the celebration not to long ago because his side of the bed was still warm I get up my legs still wobbly and unsteady as I get my dress back on I look in the mirror seeing the dark purple marks on my neck and shoulders I smile to myself as I wash my face and tie the laces of my dress back up before making my way down to the hall my brain still fogged as I open the door I see cregan drinking and talking to my brothers laughing together as I walk over to him. 

I settle myself down on his lap resting my head on him  not wanting to interrupt their conversation but cregan looks down at me running his hand through my hair “ you ok my love you still look quite exhausted “ I burry my head into him “ you left me so I came to find you” I grumble quietly it makes him chuckle “ i was just showing your brothers what you did to my back” I look up at him raising my eye brow “ what did I do” I tilt my head smirking slightly as he pulls the furs away slightly showing off deep red bloodied scratches going down his back “ you’re quite feisty sister” Jace jests looking at me “ look what you did to my neck and shoulders lord husband “ I pull the fabric of my dress away to reveal the marks scatted across my shoulders collar bones and neck “ at least we know you both enjoyed yourself “ Luce looks at me laughing “ I’m sure you two will be uncles soon enough “ cregan smirks a smugness present in his voice as he runs his fingers through my hair as I pull my dress back up “ they’d be brilliant uncles” I smile resting my head back against cregan sleepily “ just as they’ve been amazing brothers” I look at them “ promise me you’ll visit me” I look at them both “ you’ll see so much of us here that you’ll be sick of us” Luce chuckles taking a swig of his drink “ I’ll never be sick of my brothers” I hug then both tightly “ just do not bring your betrothed” I whisper to them making them both die in fits of laughter as they lean back in their chairs. 

As the evening continued i stay close to cregan as people start to leave and soon enough it’s just us and my family cregan looks at my mother as she walks up to us “ would it be ok if we stay here for the night we’ll be leaving in the morrow” she sees me cuddling up to cregan a small smile plays on her face “ of course my queen you’re welcome to stay when ever you and your family want” cregan looks at her smiling as she crouches to look at me “ you ok sweetness” she brushes some stray curls out my face I sit up and hug her “ im ok mother” she smiles and holds me in her arms “ we’re all going to bed now you should do the same” she looks at me with a motherly look as I nod “ good night mother sleep well” I smile looking at her “ sweet dreams y/n good night lord stark” she turns and walks out as Luce hugs me kissing my head “ night sister see you in the morrow” “ night brother” I smile sweetly watching as they leave to their rooms. 

———————————————————————

When the sun slowly starts to rise the birds are singing loudly as I wake up I look to cregan who is sleeping so soundly as I watch him I lean down peppering kisses over his face as he opens his eyes a sleepy chuckle escaping him as he pulls me into him “ you’re happy this morning “ his voice is croaky and gravely as he looks at me “ I’m always happy “ I giggle as I kiss him passionately “ it’s so early my love why are you awake” he looks at me tilting his head “ my family is leaving  this morning I want to be there to say goodbye”he nods running his hand over my head “ Jace is staying my love in the next week we’re doing a trip to the wall” I look at him sitting up on my knees with big eyes “ may I travel with you” he chuckles “ the wall is no place for a lady my love” I cut him off “ please cregan” he sighs “ fine you shall come but you must stay by my side” I nod smiling as I hug him “ thank you” I giggle as he kisses me more. 

A few hours pass and we get up we a warm bath has been ran to wash in as I enter the wash room cregan is sat in there surrounded by bubbly water as let my night gown fall from me and I climb in to join him straddling his lap “ cheeky girl” he kisses my neck as I lower myself onto his now hardened cock letting it sit inside of me as we wash “ you’re still so tight and warm my love” he grumbles into my ear making me clench around his cock I lean in kissing him to muffle to quiet moans from escaping me as I move up and down slightly riding him as he grips my hips “ so needy for me~” 

I giggle as he thrusts to meet my bounces as he buries his cock deep into me guiding me up and down I throw my head back as it becomes rougher his grip on my skin becoming bruising and water starts to spill over the sides of the bath as everything starts tightening and my orgasm hits unexpectedly I fall down to his chest my body shaking as he cums deep into my cunt our moans mixing together harmoniously as he holds me close in his arms still thrusting up into me fucking me through our highs. Once he pulls out we go back to cleaning each other a giggle slipping from my lips as he looks down at me “ I love you” i smile up at him face flushed holding an expression of pure passion and loyalty “ I love you more” he pulls me into a long sloppy kiss before rising from the bath giving me a hand to help me out of the water the cold Northern air hitting my skin causing it to pebble but he pulls me close his warmth protecting me from the cold. 

After we are dry I’m sat on the floor infront of cregan still nude as he plays with my hair braiding it and tying it up beautifully “ what a lovely morning this is” I giggle looking up at him he places a kiss on my shoulder “ I agree” he chuckles “ come let us dress “ he helps me up slapping my ass before walking to the wardrobe pulling out his dark leathers and grey furs as well as a silvery dress with leaves embroidered onto it with black furs around the collar he passes it to me “ this is beautiful “ I look at it smiling running my hand over the details I put some small clothes on and a shift then pull my dress ontop “ can you tie the laces” I turn to him so he can lace up the back tightening them till the dress fits tight enough to my figure “ my gorgeous wife” he kisses my cheek then twirls me around smiling “ let’s go eat your family may already be there” I giggle smiling “ ok do not share to much information with my brothers this time round my lord husband “ he chuckles looking at me “ I can not promise if questions are asked” I go on my tip toes kissing him gently before he wraps his arm around my waist and we walk to the hall. 

Were greeted by my family who are sat together with bowls of fruit and porridge “Sȳz tubis mandia gōntan ao enjoy aōla va aōha dīnilūks bantis” (Good morning sister did you enjoy yourself on your wedding night) lucerys walks to me wrapping his arm around my shoulder as he teases me “ Nyke gōntan kirimvose” ( I did thank you) my mother and brothers chuckle as we both sit down tucking into a bowl each “ I hope it won’t be to long till I have a grand child cregan” my mother looks at my husband a smile on her face “ trust me my queen it won’t be “ he looks at me chuckling as my face turns bright red with blush as I try to pick at my porridge to just get the fruit out “ promise to keep me updated with everything mother you too lucerys I want to know everything that happens”I look at them both “ trust me if anything important happens you and your husband will know soon enough “ my mother reassures as she stands up “ I’m going to prepare myself to fly be sure to come join me Luce once you’re done” she walks out the hall I look at my twin “ please be safe when going to storms end Luce “ I sigh as he rests his hand on my shoulder “ I’ll be as safe as possible sister “ I nod looking back down as we all continue to eat in silence. 

Hours pass and my mother and Luce are both ready to leave in their flying gear I come to join them to say goodbye Jace at my side I hug Luce tightly “Gaomagon daor sagon tolī tolmiot” ( don’t be distant) i hold onto him tightly tears dripping down my face “Avy jorrāelan lēkia” ( i love you brother) I sob into him as he cuddles me “Nyke dōrī tolī tolmiot mandia” ( I’m never to far sister) he wipes my tears away he looks at Jace “ make sure he looks after her” his voice cracks slightly as tears glisten in his eyes “ I promise he will brother” Jace hugs him “ ill come home soon be safe” he turns to our mother hugging her as I soon follow “ you’re a strong girl you have the blood of the dragon burning through your veins you know what you must do as your duty to our family” I nod more tears falling as she kisses my cheek and turns to leave I grab her hand not wanting to let go like a child but Jace pulls me back holding me in his arms as they both leave on dragon back.

———————————————————————

A few weeks pass and we’re visiting the wall both me and have travel there on dragon back flying through the air with the fresh snow hitting our faces as we finally land out side the gate “Sȳrī gaomagon xylix ao sōvegon sīr sȳrī sir umbagon gīda se umbagon kesīr se nyke shall jiōragon ao nykeā hobres” (Well done xylix you fly so well now stay calm and stay here and I shall get you a goat) she tilts her head in an understanding way as I dismount her running my hand over her warm scales before Jace joins my side and we walk through the gate to meet cregan who is waiting I see him instantly a smile spreads on my face as I run to him “ you should fly with us on the way back my love you’d love it” I giggle as he brushes stray snow flakes out my hair “ I think you forgot that I have no dragon “ I look at him giggling “ no silly fly with me on xylix” he looks shocked “ let me think about it “ a disagreeable tone in his voice as he takes my hand in his as I nod smiling more.

Jace walks to us “ let us discuss lord stark” my husband nods walking along with Jace as they discuss matters of war and loyalties “ you do know my sisters love relies on the loyalty you have for my family our claim” Jace looks at cregan as he sighs “ I do understand that but  winter is coming my prince we can not risk it I need my men here” he looks at Jace a small grimace on his face “ while your men guard against wildlings and weather the hightowers plan to usurp the throne if my mother is to keep her claim to hold the realm united she needs an army war is coming my lord we can not wager without the support of the north” Jace steps forward as we reach the top of the wall looking out at the nothingness ahead of us the snow falling thicker than before and the wind blowing my hair in my face as cregan holds me close “ my father brought king jaehaerys and queen Alysanne to see the wall his grace stood where we stand now and watched as their dragons refused to cross it” he pauses for a second tightening his grip on my hand as I step closer to the edge looking out “ do you think my ancestors built a 700 foot wall of ice to keep out wildlings and weather” he scoffs slightly “ what does it keep out” Jace looks curiously as they both look at each other Cregan’s tone going dark “ death” I look up in shock “ don’t say such thing I don’t want to hear it” he sighs turning to me “ you may not want to hear it but it’s the truth my sweet lady wife” I shake my head as he kisses it holding me close to him then turning his attention back to Jace “ we have thousands of grey beards who have witnessed one to many winters” his confidence is high in his voice “ they are well honed “ he looks at him as Jace speaks up “ so they’re old “ he chuckles slightly “ I can ready them to march at once “ Jace nods “ if your grey beards can fight the queen will have them “ cregan looks proud as he looks at Jace smiling slightly “ they will fight hard like northerners “ suddenly a man runs up interrupting them .

“ my lord a raven has arrived urgent news from dragonstone” he sounds out of breath as he passes a small piece of parchment to cregan his face full of concern as he opens it reading it to him self his face dropping instantly “ what’s it cregan” my voice shaking as i see the expression on his face he passes the note to Jace his face soon changes to a similar expression “ please tell me” i try snatching the note from Jace” no sister you do not wish to know “ his voice cracking slightly with emotion as I finally get it from him i read it my legs give way under me hitting the icy floor with a crunch and i let out the most agonising scream any one has heard tears streaming from my eyes “ no no no this has to be some sort of cruel joke “ I sob my hand shaking as cregan holds me “ Ñuha mijegindita lēkia ñuha beloved lēkia ñuha idaña lēkia” (My poor brother my beloved brother my twin brother) I sob uncontrollably into cregans chest my whole body limp as he tries getting me to my feet Jace just stares at me shaking as he tries to hide his emotion “Ossēninna zirȳla ossēninna aemond syt skoros ēza gaomagon” (I will kill him I will kill Aemond for what he has done) I scream out both sadness and anger suffocating me “ shhh y/n it’s ok come on let’s get home ok” he tries to comfort me but I shake my head 

“ I-i must go to dragonstone” I sob uncontrollably each word coming out with a strained breath as I start having a panic attack“ you can not sister” have finally speaks up shaking his head “ you have your place here you are under mothers order to do your duty here” he takes my head in his hands “Kesan gaomagon skoros kostan naejot ōdrikagon qilōni emagon ōdrikagon īlva” (I will do what I can to hurt who have hurt us ) i rest my forehead against his “ don’t leave me too” I sob uncontrollably “ promise me” he envelopes me in a tight embrace “ I promise”. 

[luimagines]

Link, shut up and kiss me.

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Time

It was nearing sunset when you were called to follow your husband on some stroll through the forest. The dwindling sunlight draped itself over the trees and sparkled downward to illuminate the bits of dust and leaf particles that would otherwise have been naked to the human eye. The sunset had turned the earth pink. It would have been lovely to see, had Link not steadily led you deeper and deeper into the forest. The shadows progressively got darker and darker. The animals got quieter and somehow more foreign to your senses.

A consistent stream of anxiety began to creep into your body. You didn’t want to look like a scaredy cat but you couldn’t ignore how you were scanning your surroundings more and more frequently.

Link for his part, didn’t look bothered at all. 

“Is there any reason we’re doing this?” You looked around the crooked trees and subconsciously took a step closer to Link. Nowadays he was going by the name Time, if only to avoid confusion with the other eight Links that have been his traveling companions in the past months.

You’re not entirely sure how they found each other. Link hadn’t told you the exact details but then again, you trusted his judgment. You knew that he went through a lot of trouble to keep you, and by extension, all of Hyrule safe. There was a lot of darkness that he unfortunately had been privy to. He had used himself as the filter of a lot of wicked visions and realities that he had guarded you from. 

It had taken its toll on him.

There were countless nights when you could hear him grunting and whimpering in his sleep. The demons refused to leave him alone even then. He’d woken up screaming more than once and each time you had taken it upon yourself to calm him down and soothe him back to sleep. It hurt, knowing that despite all his efforts and strength, Link wasn’t strong enough to defeat the monsters in his own head. To add salt to the wound, you knew there was nothing you could do about it except hum a lullaby and hold him just a little bit tighter.

Still, Link did his best to keep the evil away from you.

There was a moment of silence where Link held his hand up and you paused behind him. He waited, searching for some hidden clue before reaching for your hand. “We’re doing this just to take a moment to breathe,” He gives you a cheeky wink. “Is it so wrong to merely want a moment with my darling, away from prying eyes?”

“That’s not what I was asking and you know it.” You give him a playfully flat look. “We didn’t have to travel this far to get away from the boys. I’m sure if we asked nicely they would have found a way to entertain themselves without us.”

Link rolled his eyes, squeezing your hand in his. “I didn’t want to take any chances.”

“Alright, fine, but you still haven’t told me whatever it is you have planned.”

“It’s called a surprise, my love.”

You tried your hardest not to pout. It wasn’t often Link got this playful. While he wasn’t usually grumpy on a good day, (despite what the other Links may have tried to convince you of), he didn’t usually like to keep you in the dark if it involved get-away plans either. On one hand, part of you was glad that he seemed less stressed enough to play with you this way. It was cute and made him look ten years younger. On the other hand, you were annoyed and feeling nosey as hell. You wanted to know! Why is he keeping these sorts of secrets from you? Now? Of all times!

Link, for all his perception, obviously notices that you’re being a tad petulant. He laughs as quietly as he can under his breath before tugging you along again. “This way. We’re almost there.”

You bit your tongue, otherwise you would have stuck it out at him. You can feel Link’s smirk on his face, and frankly, you don’t care for it.

Within seconds, Link moves a branch out of the way, revealing a babbling brook with a picnic blanket on the ground. There’s a picnic basket filled to the brim with goodies and treats alike and a very expensive bottle of wine. You didn’t even drink! Where did he find the time to do all of this?

Your heart swelled, wiping off the minor irritation from his earlier teasing. “...Oh Link… How did you-? Where did-? Why-?”

“I’ve missed you.” He says softly, gently tugging you closer. “Getting your letters isn’t the same as actually talking to your face. I’ve missed your laugh and your smile. I’ve missed holding you in my arms. I’ve missed waking up next to your face every morning. I don’t want you to think I’ve forgotten about you while I’m out traveling to protect our home-”

“Link, shut up and kiss me.” You blurt, cutting him off at once.

Smirking, Link pulls you flush against his chest, cupping your jaw with his free hand. Leaning down, he tilts your head just enough to close the distance easier. A breath passes and the air leaves your lungs. Link presses his lips to yours with retrained hunger. There’s a depth that warns you of the impending desperation behind his touch. His touch is firm but not painful. You reciprocate in kind, clutching onto the front of his shirt as your knees begin to buckle from underneath you.

Link pulls away first, letting go of your hand to wrap it around the small of your back. There’s a delight clean in his eyes. His eyes have gone stormy and borderline sultry. “Not to cut it short, my love, but if I don’t restrain myself, I fear we won’t be leaving this little slice of paradise any time soon.”

Wordlessly, you nod. How lovely. 

Twilight 

“Link?” You quietly call out to The Rancher.

The group decided to take a break for a day or two purely to regroup and regenerate their forces before continuing on the next leg of their journey. It would have been fine and dandy to get more supplies and rest your feet if Twilight hadn’t been acting… strange.

He’d been distant and distracted.

It was worrying, to say the least. Granted, it wasn’t as if he was a man of many words. Twilight, you’ve noticed, was a bigger man of action than you’ve ever had the privilege to meet in your life. On top of that, silence was commonplace among anyone in the group named Link, but lately, it was heavier when you stood next to him. Pensive. Lost in thought.

You didn’t want to pry. It wasn’t like it was any of your business.

But you were nosey as hell.

I mean- you care about him! Of course! Naturally, that was the bigger- the biggest reason you wanted to ask him what was up. If something was bothering him you wanted to know and you wanted to help him.

Sure.

After everyone had checked into the inn and had settled for the night, you found that you couldn’t get your brain to shut up. Twilight had been the last to get one to go to bed and you weren’t entirely sure that he followed through with his promise to head to bed anytime soon.

You walked into the lobby of the inn and found The Rancher resting on one of the provided chairs. Lo and behold, he was still very much awake and staring off into the fireplace that the inn had kept lit just for him.

You don’t think he heard you call for him.

“Twilight.” You try again, moving to stand by his side. Bending your knees, you squat next to his chair so you’d be able to look up and meet his gaze better. “Hey. I think it’s past your bedtime, Rancher. What are you doing still up?”

He took a breath and looked over to you. His eyes widened and he leaned back as if noticing your presence for the first time. He said your name under his breath and it sent goosebumps down your spine. He didn’t have to say it like a prayer.

You gulped and nodded. Yes. That was your name. You asked him a question.

He responded in kind and shook his head free of the thoughts in his head. Twilight opened his mouth to question your intentions but you beat him to the punch.

“What’s going on, Link? Don’t lie to me.”

His eyes widened once more and he cleared his throat. “Do you… Do you ever think that maybe-... Nevermind, it’s stupid.”

“No, tell me.” You stressed, putting your hand on his knee. “You’ve been all out of sorts lately. It’s had me worried.”

“Really?” Twilight turned back to you. “Was I that obvious?”

“You lack subtlety Link.”

“...Oh…”

You wait for him to continue. He doesn’t. If anything, it looks at war with himself. He opens his mouth multiple times, looking back and forth between you and his lap. He’s silent. Multiple minutes passed as he tried to get his thoughts in order. You were willing to wait for him to make headway with his thoughts. There was no use pushing him before he was ready.

“I think I’m in love with you,” He blurts.

You fall backward onto your butt.

Twilight coughed, blushing a bright red that traveled all the way up to the tips of his ears.

“L-Look, I’m not going to pressure you or anything.” He stumbled into an unwarranted explanation. “I’ve been trying to think this through and I’m aware this isn’t exactly the most opportune moment to say this or admit this and we still have a job to do so this is arguably the last place for a relationship. But I don’t even know if you want a relationship or if you even think about me that way-”

Your jaw slowly dropped as he continued to verbally barf into the space. You couldn’t get a word out otherwise. He just kept talking.

“And then there’s Midna and everything that she was to me.” Twilight desperately runs his hands through his hair. “I almost feel like I’m betraying her and everything I stood for at the time but this is different. It feels different. You’re different. It’s stronger. All-encompassing. From the top of my head to my toes, this is a drowning sensation of ever-loving need and I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t know if I want to stop it.”

“Link-”

“And you’re so beautiful.” He shakes his head, ruffling his hair roughly. “And I’m a shotgun nobody from the deep ends of the country-”

“Link-”

“How do I even begin to start with how amazing you are? With how talented and great and absolutely breathtaking-”

“Link, shut up and kiss me.” You grab the front of his shirt and tug him closer to you. 

Twilight completely freezes on the spot, staring in your eyes like a fish out of water.

A beat passes.

Then a second.

And then he surges forward, scooping you up from the ground and placing you in his lap with very little issue. One hand stayed by your hip while the other caressed your jaw. His touch was soft, tentative, like handling fine china.

You, however, had no such reservations.

You weren’t about to let this hunk of a man slip through your grapes and allow his self-doubt to dictate what happened next. You wanted to eliminate any sort of inquiry about where you stood from his mind. You wanted him. You have been wanting him.

You undoubtedly returned his kiss with more passion than he had anticipated. After a second of scrambling to match your energy, Twilight finally got with the program.

You had absolutely zero regrets.

Warrior

“Why would you do this?” You hissed, vibrating from the sheer force of will you exerted over your body to keep from throttling the man in front of you. “Didn’t you say that we had a plan? Weren’t you yelling at me earlier about sticking to the plan we came up with?”

“Things got… complicated…” Warrior sighed, rubbing his temple. He had taken a gnarly hit to the head and it wasn’t going to do anyone any good if he had a concussion. The sight made your heart ache, but it was also fully brought upon him by himself. “...The plan needed… last-minute reconfigurations.”

You growled and ruffled your hair violently. This was the farthest thing from ideal. You were both in the middle of nowhere and there was no sign of any villages or fairy fountains.

You had both set off to scout ahead before anyone arrived to survey the land. Your efforts were more or less fruitless. It was a mountain range with countless dips and swells that held more hidden threats than you were able to avoid.

The plan had been to stay out of as much as possible and to not engage in any fights or battles if you could help it. That being said, that didn’t account for any hidden threats or monsters that were laid in an ambush. You would have thought that would have been what had caused Warrior’s injury. Nope! It was far more simple, and frankly, far more stupid than that.

Frustrations aside, the land was beautiful. It struck you as odd that this mountain range would cease to exist by the time your Hyrule came into fruition. There were hundreds of maple trees scattered about that gave the earth an absolute darling shade of red as the sun traveled across the sky. A gentle, if bitterly cold breeze shook the leaves from their branches, sending them to flutter through the air in their dance to the ground.

You throw your pack onto the dirt and begin to rifle through it. You needed to find something, anything! You didn’t want to deal with Warrior while he dealt with his concussion. You weren’t entirely sure if it was bleeding, but given that his golden blond hair hadn’t been stained yet, you were willing to bet a pretty rupee that it wasn’t as bad as you had initially feared.

You cursed your luck. You had no potions, no painkillers, and no bandages at all. You could have hit yourself. Weren’t you warned by the Vet to pack extra of everything on the off chance something gets lost or stolen? Granted, neither of those things was stolen or lost, they were simply used up and not restocked. You had only yourself to blame.

“I blame you,” You tell Warrior, giving him a sideways glare. “Tell me why you thought it was a good idea to do a double backflip off a rock, then proceed to slip on the landing and hit your head on the very same rock.”

Warrior groaned loudly and rubbed the goose egg that was thankfully hidden under his hair. “Well, for starters, it’s not like I intended to slip. I had the full intention of landing that flip.”

“Ok… So, tell me again why you didn’t.”

“...”

“...”

“I may be in need of new boots.”

“Oh shut up! That wasn’t the problem I was trying to highlight! You shouldn’t have done it to begin with! We knew it had been raining earlier.” You shout, watching unapologetically as Warrior winces at the sound. You huff and helplessly turn in circles, trying to spot something in the distance where you could go. But you don’t see anything despite turning around multiple times. It feels demoralizing. 

Sighing, you walk over to Warrior and wrap your arms around his middle for safekeeping. You’re not entirely sure how steady he is on his feet and you don’t need to risk him slipping and hitting his head again. 

He tries to push you off but you’re not having it. After getting swiped at no less than three times, you poke his stomach eliciting a soft ‘oof’ from him as a result. “Stop squirming. I can’t trust you to not get hurt again and we’re not in the position to take any more chances.”

Warrior puffs up, offended and indignant. “I’m the captain and leader of the entire royal battalion-” 

“And you nearly tried to crack your skull open with no one around to impress,” You hiss and jostle him to prove a point. “Tell me you didn’t think that I would find that particularly impressive.”

Warrior stays silent.

“Oh for Nayru’s sake,” You grumble, shaking your head exasperatedly. You adored Link, truly you did, but your tolerance of shenanigans could only contain so much before you’ve reached your limit. Since then, Warrior decided, (or rather he gathered that he wasn’t going to win the upcoming argument any time soon), that it was better to not engage in a verbal sparring match about his stupid decisions and that his safety would depend on keeping his mouth shut for the time being.

Walking beside him, side to side, was actually quite nice, you admitted to yourself. He was warm, lean but not without the feeling of power he carried beneath his skin. You never had a reason to be this close to The Captain so this was a pleasant surprise. Warrior leaned against you, favoring a leg no doubt as you walked. You wanted to stop and yell at him again for hiding it, but there wasn’t much that would change if you decided to follow through with that thought.

There was still no hope of rescue or hiding civilization to get him treated. Feeling antagonized, you managed to maneuver the both of you into a cave and set him down. Without another word, you got to work on making a fire to warm you both against the chill of the stone. Warrior hissed softly as he rested his body and he was beginning to look a little worse for wear.

‘The pain must be finally settling into his body,’ you think to yourself as you watch him from the corner of your eyes. With a sigh, you try once again, in vain, to look through your pack for anything that could help him.

Nothing.

“...Oh wow…” Warrior says breathlessly. “You look really pretty like that.”

You freeze.

“...”

“...”

“...Excuse me?” You say gently and slowly crawl to his side. As subtly as you could, you look over the side of his head.

“Next to the firelight,” Warrior says, adjusting his position against the stone wall of the cave. “It made your hair glow and your eyes sparkled. There were flecks of gold that shimmered and shined. It was pretty. You looked pretty.”

“H-hush,” You ran a hand through his hair to check the damage. The swelling had begun to settle at long last. “It’s the concussion talking. You don’t mean it.”

“My filter is busted but my thoughts are valid,” He growls under his breath. “I’m not sure how I’m going to think of this when I gather my wits about me this time tomorrow. But I’m certain enough now to not regret my words.”

You flush against your will. You couldn’t stop it. You turn your face away from the fire to hide in the shadows. You pray it would be enough for him to not notice the way his words had affected you.

“The pink looks cute on you too.”

Too late.

“OH-! Shut up.” You huff and spin back to him. “You’re cheating. That’s not fair.”

“Cheating for being honest?” Warrior gets a boyish smirk on his face. It’s lethal damage. “For giving you a compliment?”

“Shut.”

“Can you at least look at me?”

“Nope.”

“Please?” He says sweetly.

“Shut up.” You say weakly, turning to face him anyway. “Shut up and kiss me before I do something stupid.”

Warrior laughs and tugs you closer by your sleeve. “You have to come closer. I can’t move much like this.”

With a small whine, you scoot even closer, letting him move you the way he wants before he gently presses his lips to yours. Something tells you that perhaps you shouldn’t take advantage of the situation like this. He still took a hit to the head. That hasn’t changed in the past hour.

Still, Warrior tugs you impossibly closer, snaking his hand from your arm and into your hair. The slight tug catapults the thoughts from your mind as you sink deeper into his arms. Your hands come up to cradle his face and pull him closer as well. Right as you feel the need to pick up speed, he pulls back, a pure, satisfied smile full of male pride dancing on his lips.

The look would have had you buckling at the knees if Warrior hadn’t decided it was a good moment to break the silence. 

“Enjoy yourself?”

You nearly smack him in the head again.