#despite being exactly half my age

[mars-ipan]

genuinely i don’t know how someone could meet a kid and decide children are horrid monsters actually. kids are so good

[flippedorbit]

you might as well just fucking call me by name at this fucking point

[mangoofthesea]

.

[feral4daryl]

need a part 2 of sweet scent with pervy daryl trying to explain it to you but you couldn't get it cuz you'd never done anything like it so he says he's gonna show you how good it feels and has to muffle your screams so no one in the house hears you as his cock practically splits your tiny cunt in half and he uses his thumb to rub ur clit to try and make u relax.........

I'm crazy but I'm free

masterlist and other infos || MDNI

sweet scent pt2.

perv!daryl x innocent!fem!reader

summary: after getting caught sniffing your panties by you, daryl persuades you into giving your precious virginity away to him while your dad's just in the next room.

warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl's is in late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18 [or older, it's up to you]), 18+ smut, praising, dubcon? (reader lacks enthusiastic consent at first and daryl has to do some convincing), panty gagging, p-in-v, blowjobs, cunnilingus, masturbation, manipulation, petnames, daddy kink, orgasm denial, mentions of dumbification, mentions of degradation.

word count: 6.2k

a/n: the following content contains some extreme fetishes and kinks that some readers might find disturbing, so if you're not comfortable with any of those, please do not proceed. click here to read part 1.

<previous chapter>

[...] His movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. He sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. He opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.

Then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...

You. Standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.

"U-uncle Daryl?"

---

Shit.

You definitely weren't what Daryl expected to see when he opened his eyes, the remains of his freshly busted nut all over his hand and his cock out, fully on display. For a good 5 seconds, he just freezed, completely unsure of what to do. But then, it hit him. He freaked out.

His eyes got as big as they possibly could and he immediately pulled his cock in his pants back again, clumsily trying to regain his composure, taking a little longer than usual due to his nervousness. Meanwhile, you just stood there with an unreadable expression. You didn't look exactly shocked, or angry, or anything like it. You looked strangely curious, with your head slightly tilted to the side.

Daryl shook his hand to get rid of some of his essence that was still sticking to it and then rubbed it on the side of his pants, on the hip area. Still not capable of looking you in the eyes, he quickly glanced at your frame and finally broke the awkward silence.

“Y/N? W-What'r'ya doin' here?” Stuttering was very unusual for Daryl, considering that although he was a man of very few words, he was always very direct and precise with them. Maybe playing it cool as if you hadn't just caught him in the act was the way out of that unpleasant situation.

“Well...” You let out a small chuckle and took a step closer to him. “This is my room.” His awkward smile immediately faded away.

“Oh, uh... I was jus’...” He looked around the room, searching for anything to use as an excuse for being there. But before he could start, you interrupted him.

“I didn't leave with the others, daddy told me to stay here to take care of you. He's in his room.” Your sweet girly voice had a way of calming Daryl, making him a bit more relaxed despite the current scenario and the shame he was feeling. But at the same time, just hearing you enunciate that one little word 'daddy' had him taking a deep breath to control his urges and not have another erection right there and then. You said that so innocently, because, well, it was in fact innocent since you referred to your actual father Hershel, but still, Daryl's twisted mind made it sound suggestive in his head.

“Take care'a me?” He pondered. Daryl wondered why your reaction was so calm considering what you had just witnessed. Maybe you didn't see much.

“You know, somebody's gotta change your bandage.” You smiled and pointed to his head that still had the bandage around it. “Actually, can you step to the side a bit? So I can...” You gestured to the dressing table behind him. He didn't say anything and just did as you said, moving to the side a little so you could approach the piece of furniture. In that moment, Daryl was the definition of what they call a standoffish.

“I was expecting to find you in your bed, resting. As you should, uncle Daryl.” Your voice carried a hint of playfulness along with a sincere worry. But the way you called him uncle for the second time that day gave him mixed sensations. He wasn't sure if he was aroused or weirded out by it. Or both.

You extended your hand, meaning to pull the drawer open to collect the items needed to change his bandage, which included the gauze, antiseptic wipes, medical tapes, sterile dressing and other kinds of medical stuff your dad had taught you how to handle, but you had to stop your hand midway when you noticed a white slimy thing dripping down the furnishing.

He followed your eyes, noticing how stared at the liquid. The farmer's sweet young daughter had just noticed the results of Daryl's arousal while it coated the dressing table. His mind started rushing with apprehension, you could tell your dad and everyone else how much of a perverted old man Daryl actually was, and he could be kicked out of the group, being left alone in the woods to fend for himself. It's not that he wasn't capable to make it on his own, but his family was important to him, he didn't wanna lose them over that type of thing that could change the way they looked at him forever.

“What's this?” You bended your knees a little, leaning forward and squinting your eyes to take a better look at the unknown substance. Now, you had completely forgotten the reason why you came into that room that was changing his bandage. Daryl lifted one of his eyebrows out of confusion. Did you really not know what that was? If that was the case, it kind of made sense.

Of course. Living on a farm far from the city, you had a close-knit relationship with your family in a way that they were pretty much all the people you would interact with. You had never had boyfriends, or kissed, or anything remotely romantic like that due to your dad's overprotectiveness, after all, you were his youngest daughter. All you knew about the existence of sexual stuff had been taught by him, when he mainly warned you about the terrible consequences of that type of action and that you had to stay innocent.

You didn't really know what he meant by all that, since he was very vague in his descriptions about sex. Hershel just used to say that there were certain areas on your body that you should never let a boy get near and you knew better than to disobey your father's orders, being aware that he always knew what was best for you. Not even your own hands had ever darted down your body to meet those spots more than once or twice before quickly pulling away. You wanted to remain innocent, whatever that meant.

But Daryl was the observant type, and he quickly caught up that you knew nothing about that type of thing. He knew you had always lived in that farm, away from the perverted hands of boys your age (or older like him) so connecting the dots wasn't tricky at all.

Oh, the things he could show you. That thought alone brought a somewhat creepy smirk to Daryl's face as he stared into the wall, contemplating the opportunity he had in hands to finally have his way with you. He knew he still had to be careful though.

“Daryl?” Your voice snapped him out of his trance. You turned your head to look at him before turning your entire body to face him. Your gaze was curious.

“This?” He motioned with his chin towards the dripping substance on the piece of furniture, looking out of place. “Ya don'... know wha' it is?” He double checked, wanting to make sure you were actually unfamiliar erotic nature of what you saw him doing.

“Well, I saw where it came from.” You revealed, not sounding accusing at all, just simply stating a fact.

“...How long 've ya been watchin' me?” He asked with an almost audible gulp. Though he was considerably excited about teaching you all that new stuff, he was still unsure if he should or not. It'd been so long since his last sexual interaction with someone else that he could barely remember it. And doing it with the daughter of the man that gave him a roof to put over his head in times like these? That was risky.

“A while.” You stated. Now, Daryl could notice how you started staring at his crotch area with a renewed sense of interest. That meant you had definitely seen his dick despite his efforts to hide it when he first got caught just moments ago. He wondered if you knew what it was or its purpose.

You stepped even closer to him and he couldn't help but step back slightly. “I've never seen somebody pee like that. Are you... Sick?” You raise an eyebrow. “The bathroom's just in the next room, you know...” Your worried tone was awfully adorable to Daryl. And well, he was indeed sick, but not in the way you meant it. Nonetheless, the amusing way you mistook his semen for urine made him share a light chuckle.

“Nah, tha's... Tha's not piss.” He bluntly let out. You walked across your room and over to your bed, sitting on its edge. Daryl followed you until he was standing in front of you. He crossed his arms.

“How so?” You tilted your head to the side with a sincere curiosity displayed on your face. You had seen the way he rubbed that one thing of his that you weren't sure how it worked until that slimy liquid started oozing out of it, deeply stimulating your curiosity.

“Ya sure ya wanna know?” His tone sounded more dark and his voice turned hoarser, however, that didn't seem to faze you. You nodded frantically. “Aigh', i'll show ya.” Once again, a smirk creeped onto his face. Your eyes were all sparkly as you attentively listened to him. “Sometimes people touch themselves ta feel good, ya know?” You shrugged, not really sure of what he was talking about.

As he spoke, he took light and slow steps towards you, like a predator preparing to hunt its prey, until his knees was almost touching yours. “Ya ever touched yerself, darlin'?” Despite the raspiness in his voice, it was now rather calm, with a surge of some sweetness to it.

“Like how?” You asked.

“Like here...” He extended his hand with a gentle movement, his finger tracing a path from the valley between your breasts down to your bellybutton. The slightly ticklish sensation made you flinch a little. Then, his finger continued making its way down to your lower belly, stopping inches above your clothed pussy. “'N here...”

Your breath hissed, and you started remembering how your dad told you those parts were sacred and shouldn't be touched by anyone, no matter who. The uncertainty was obvious in your face as you discreetly pushed his hand away. “Uncle Daryl...”

“Ya can call me jus' Daryl, sweetheart. 'M yer friend, remember?” He tried his best to sound convincing.

“Yes, Daryl...” You corrected yourself with an awkward chuckle. “I... I think I shouldn't.” You avert your gaze from his.

“Why not? Dontcha wanna know wha' it's like?” He leaned in a little closer, resting his hands on your thighs. You made a motion to try to push him away again, but he insisted on his touch. “Don' be scared, doll. 'M not gunna hurt ya. Quite the opposite.” He smirked while practically whispering the last part, making sure to sound extra coaxing.

You weren't really sure what you were afraid of, exactly. You just knew that you wanted to make your father happy and proud of you, since he'd always been so caring towards you and your family. In the end, you just wanted daddy's approval.

“I'm... I'm not sure. I don't know, it doesn't feel right.” You confessed, your voice filled with worry. Daryl knew how to be intimidating when he wanted to.

“'S okay, doll.” He spoke the way one would speak to a puppy. And giving you no time to protest, he used one of his hands to tug at the hem of your white tank top and pulled it up in one go, revealing your bare tits to him. He bit his lips, noticing you weren't wearing a bra. As quick as he did so, you felt so ashamed of your sudden nudity that you lifted your arms up to try to cover yourself up from his hungry eyes. “D-Daryl...”

“Shhhh...” He shushed you against your ear, making shivers run down your spine. Although you were uncertain, the way he spoke to you made certain parts of your body warm up, an unusual sensation for you. “Ya got such pretty tits... Ya shouldn't hide 'em away from me.” As he said that, he gently grabbed one of your breasts, giving it the slightest squeeze not to startle you. You couldn't help but let out a small squeak at the unfamiliar sensation. Weirdly enough, it felt good in a way you had never felt before.

“Ya like tha'?” He whispered. “It's nice, but... Daddy wouldn't like that. I just wanna make daddy happy.” You just wanted to be a good girl. Perhaps, you could find a different way of doing that.

“Yeah?” He muttered practically to himself as he got an idea. “Well, I can be yer daddy for today. Like tha', ya could make yer daddy happy in a way. Yer jus' gotta lemme lead ya, aigh'?” He didn't feel guilty in the slightest for making you engage in one of his twisted fetishes while you were barely aware of it.

“H-huh?" You were uncertain about the reason behind his suggestion.

“Ya can pretend 'm yer daddy.” He continued playing her mind. You weren't really sure if you liked the idea to depict him as your old man, but you tried to convince yourself to play along.

“But... What will he think of me when he finds out?” You fidgeted with your fingers. Meanwhile his grip on your breast continued to intimidate you.

“He don' have ta know. C'mon, dontcha wanna make daddy happy?” He conveyed in a hush against your ear, his thumb now grazing your sensitive nipple, making you feel that one funny sensation again. You couldn't help but lean into his touch.

You closed your eyes, darting your tongue out to lick your lips. The nervousness in you due to the newness of it all made your lips dry. The way Daryl was making you feel was curious, and you just wanted more of it. He took your silence as a confirmation.

“Good girl.” He cooed before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, very gently sucking on it. The feeling made you arch your back instantly.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

You just wanted to be a good girl. And if following Daryl's lead was a way to do it, you were all in for it. Your senses awakened as a cascade of unfamiliar yet electrifying sensations coursed through you, a dance of pleasure that tingled on your skin. In that moment, a subtle warmth enveloped you, as if you had discovered a secret realm of bliss previously unknown.

You reached for his head, the feeling of your delicate fingernails scratching against his scalp and pulling him closer sent tingling sensations all over his body. Instinctively, you slightly opened your legs at the pleasure and that drew a smirk onto Daryl's face.

“Eager fer daddy, huh?” The way he referred to himself like that made a faint blush spread across your cheeks, although you couldn't wrap your head around the reason why. It felt so wrong but so right at the same time.

“I need ya to trust me, 'kay?” He said as he pulled your shorts down and then tossed them aside, revealing your white cotton panties. Once again, you felt to urge to hide, not knowing how to deal with someone else seeing you naked for the first time. But before your legs could involuntarily close, his big hands groped your thighs, keeping them spread apart. “'S okay, sunshine.” He practically manhandled you, gently but firmly pushing your body downward so you rested you back on the mattress.

The new position made you feel strangely vulnerable, but it wasn't exactly a bad feeling. Your doe eyes had a mix of unsureness and curiosity as they meet his. Sensing the mixed sensations within you, Daryl leaned in to place a small peck on your plush lips, aiming to make you more comfortable. The feeling of his rough lips against your soft ones so suddenly almost made you flinch, but they felt rather inviting. As he pulled back, a confident smirk could be seen displayed on his face.

The archer's rugged fingers traveled their way down your body once again until they found the soft fabric of your panties, making your breath hiss. He brushed his index and middle fingers against your clothed pussy lips. Just with that, the dampness was so obvious that a small wet spot could be seen on the cotton fabric right where your slit would be. He dragged his fingers across it until they reached your clit.

“This lil spot righ' here...” He kept his hand there. “...is magical." For now, he just added a small pressure, testing the waters and watching close to your reaction, but that was enough to draw a whimper from you, the unknown sensation making you grasp his forearm. It indeed felt magical. You bit your lips and though you couldn't see it, Daryl shared a satisfied smile at the way he was able to get you all hot and bothered with just a simple touch.

Your legs squirmed a bit and he took that as a good sign, so he continued. Now, he started slowly rubbing your clit in circular motions over the fabric of your panties. Your back arched again, and you accidentally let out a dangerously loud moan.

“Nuh-uh.” He brought his other index finger to his lips, gesturing for you to be quiet. “Ya gotta be quiet, ya hear me?” His tone was mostly reprimanding, which strangely excited you. You nodded, enjoying the authority he guided you with through those new sensations. You had touched yourself there before, but never like that. The sensation always felt somewhat wrong, but with Daryl, it was totally different.

You were still kind of upset at yourself for disobeying your dad, but the way Daryl worked his fingers so skillfully had you seeing stars. You never thought you'd be handing out your innocence for some old redneck you met just a while ago, but there you were, completely given to him.

In the beginning, Daryl used to always kind of avoid you, despite your attempts of trying to get to know at least a little bit about the mysterious archer. He knew that deep down, those desires towards you were always there, since the very first time he saw you. At first, he tried to brush them off, but now, all he wanted was to be the one to feel your tight virgin cunt for the first time.

In a swift motion, his big hands tugged at the hem of your underwear. “Up.” He ordered, gesturing for you to lift your hips so he could pull them down. You didn't argue at all and promptly did as he said, reveling in the control he had over you. It was like he dominated your weak mind. “Good girl.” He cooed once again. Oh, if only he knew what that did to your little inexperienced pussy.

After tossing the piece of fabric aside, he reached for you knees, gently spreading them apart. The sight of your glistening bare cunt had his mind rushing through all the things he could do to it. He wondered if he would be able to hold himself back and be gentle or if he would end up losing control. After all, he hadn't done anything like that in such a long time that his whole body was aching for it. He stared at it in an almost scary way, you'd never seen his eyes so hungry.

If his cock hadn't awaken until that moment, now it was hard as a fucking rock. He had to really fight the urges to pull it out his pants and dick you down right there and then, but he knew he had to take it easy on you at least for now and get you nice and ready for him, even though you were already visibly dripping wet.

“Is this all fer me?” His tone was almost mocking. You weren't sure what he meant by that, not fully understanding the concept of natural lubrication, but you just nodded with your eyes closed. Something about being in that position felt so right, so freeing that it had you wondering why you never did that before, and why you were so afraid of trying it in the first place.

Daryl's hands sensually traced their way down your body, exploring your every contour until they reached the back of your thighs, pushing them back until your wet cunt was all over his face. He tried his best to control himself, but his own arousal was practically taking over his mind, so he buried his face on it like a starving man. As soon as his wet tongue made contact with your sensitive little clit and he lapped at your abundant juices, you immediately gasped, gaining a look of disapproval from Daryl.

“I warned ya.” That was all he mumbled before taking your panties he had just took off you and sticking them into your mouth almost aggressively. You could taste yourself on the white fabric, and although it felt strange, it turned you on even more. Now, your little sounds were muffled by the piece of clothing as he resumed eating you out, flicking his tongue on hour clit and burying it between your folds. You never thought a feeling like that could actually exist as you experienced that overwhelming rush of pleasure, a novel sensation coursing through you sending shivers down your spine as a delightful warmth enveloped your entire being. You tried your best to hold back your sounds since your dad was home and could hear you if you slipped, but Daryl's skilled tongue and lips made it an extremely difficult task, even with your panties stuck in your mouth.

He continued working your clit with his mouth, and maybe a little sooner than it should, a tingling sensation forming in your lower belly caught your attention. Daryl noticed the obvious shift in your demeanor and took the panties out of your mouth so you could speak. “D-daddy...” You experimented the honorific he had previously suggested. “I-I feel funny.” You whimpered, squirming a bit harder than before as it started feeling as if you were gonna burst at any moment. Daryl smirked against your skin and gave your pussy a last peck before pulling away, making you whine in disapproval. It had only been seconds but you immediately missed the sensation. You craved it.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” He said. Not yet what, you wondered. But you still wanted to be good for him, so you nodded as the good girl you were. You couldn't think of anything you wouldn't do for him in that moment, considering how desperate you were to feel that pleasure again.

Your curious eyes followed his hands as they reached to unbuckled his own belt, setting it aside. He undid his pants and pulled them down just enough to reveal his boxer briefs to you. There. There was the place where you saw that sticky white thing shooting out from. Now, the excitement in you was unbearable as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch his movements closely. Your eyes visibly lighted up and that didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.

“Yer gunna love this, lil' girl.” He bit his lips. Something was very obviously bulging in his boxers, which you found odd since it didn't seem to look so obvious when it was in his pants even though now it looked so big. Either way, you were completely drawn to it. You glued your eyes to his crotch while he pulled his underwear down.

You had heard about it, but you had never actually seen one of those before. In the aftermath of the apocalypse, his pubic hair had grown wild and untamed, a reflection of the makeshift survival and the absence of the once routine grooming practices. Not that he used to care a lot about that kind of thing before the outbreak. In a way, you thought it looked charming, suiting his rugged looks and personality.

You could feel your mouth starting to water at the sight of his cock standing tall and proud in front of you. Since the archer had touched his mouth to your cunt, you wondered if you could do the same to him in that same area on his body. As if he could smell your thoughts, he brought a hand to your head, gently pulling you closer to his crotch while he held it by the base.

“Ya wanna have a taste?” He slyly suggested and chuckled at your frantic nodding. Leaning closer to it, you felt the musky and raw scent that emanated from it, which made you even more drawn to the possibilities that ran through your mind. But at the same time, you didn't know what to do or how to handle it.

Bringing his hand to his mouth, he collected some saliva from it and rubbed the wetness on the tip of his cock to lubricate it. “Gimme yer hand.” He reached out his hand, and instantly you complied, allowing him to direct it towards his cock. He enveloped your hand around it, keeping his atop yours, slowly starting to move it up and down. It felt warm and hard against your soft fingers, and the way he threw his head back and quietly groaned made your stomach churn with butterflies. “Fuck baby, tha' feels good.” He had to whisper due to the dangerous presence of your dad in the house threatening to put your little playtime to an end.

You smiled proudly at yourself. You liked the way he sounded and you wished to draw more of those grunts from his lips. And Daryl, being just as eager as you, removed your hand from his length, holding it by the base. His other hand found its way to the back of your head, his touch almost feeling impatient as he pulled you closer to his cock. “Open yer mouth.” He didn't have to tell you twice. Therefore, he guided his swollen tip to your awaiting tongue, smearing his salty pre-cum all over it. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to hold back any compromising sounds.

Your lips instinctively closed around his tip, trying to mimic the way he sucked on your clit, aiming to make him feel as good as he previously did to you. The act not only gave him pleasure, but it also brought you a deep sense of satisfaction, making you hum against his sensitive skin. The vibrations from your vocal chords sent a chill through his body and he couldn't hold back this time, the warm sensation of your mouth being so tempting and promising that he pushed his hips forward a bit too much, causing it to hit the back of your throat and you to gag on it.

He immediately retracted his body, removing his cock from the velvety confines of your mouth. Your eyes got a little watery but you smiled either way. “Sorry, princess.” He said with a hint of awkwardness in his voice.

“It's fine, I liked it.” You confess, looking up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, sitting at the edge of the bed while he stood in front of you. Your innocent expression contrasting with the dirty nature of your encounter made him impossibly hornier, and he didn't feel like waiting any longer. “Fuck” He almost whined. Eagerness to feel you wrapping around him filled his body, so he grabbed you by the arms, not too rough so he wouldn't hurt you, and put on your feet against the pink wall of your room.

He brought a hand to your head, pressing it against the wall. You gasped a little at his roughness but soon you felt him brushing the tip of his cock on your slicky slit and clit. “'S gunna feel good, I promise.” He mumbled against your ear, making your body hair stand on end. The sensation had you biting your lips to try and not make any sounds, but your efforts were proven useless as you felt the pressure of his tip carefully going in your cunt, causing a burning sensation and you accidentally let out a loud cry.

Daryl's hand went immediately to your mouth, forcefully pressing his palm against your lips to muffle your sounds, your dad shouldn't hear Daryl using his sweet daughter in his own home after all. “Shhh, shhh.” He shushed you, resting his chin on the top of your head for a moment. You wrapped around him so tight even though he only had his tip in yet that he couldn't restrain himself from pushing his hips forward a little more, intensifying the burning sensation while he stretched your virgin cunt out.

“'S okay, ya can take it.” In that moment, you were confused at why he was making you feel so good just a moment ago, and now he's ripping your little pussy apart. But even though it hurt, it was somewhat pleasant to feel so full in such a new way, so you stuck your ass towards him, inviting him in. While still keeping his hand pressed on your mouth, he brought his other one to your hips, gripping them a little too tight.

Without warnings, he buried his entire length in you in one swift motion, filling you up to the brim and worsening the burning to a whole new level. The only thing that kept you from letting out a scream at the sudden invasion was his hand muffling your pathetic sounds and the fact that you'd be in deep trouble if your dad found out about that, but even so, Daryl couldn't help but quietly grunt at the intense sensation. He didn't know he missed fucking a warm cunt so badly until he was completely inhumed inside you. “Good girl. Yer being so good fer daddy.” He praised you. His words had an immediate effect on you, making your pussy even wetter, if that was even possible.

You didn't even care if it hurt or not anymore, so you just stood there, caught in the paradox of sensation — a mix of pain and pleasure etched across your face. The twinge felt like a sweet ache, and yet, an irresistible allure pulled her deeper into the experience, as if the discomfort held a hidden charm that she couldn't resist exploring.

Despite the pain, you found herself oddly drawn to the sensation, craving more as if the discomfort carried an inexplicable appeal that kept you coming back for another taste. So you slightly wiggled your ass against Daryl's body, moving his cock a little inside you. The feeling of being stretched out had you desperate for more.

Daryl's warm breath hit your ear as he let out a light-hearted laugh at your reaction, sending delicious goosebumps all over your body. His hips started going back and forth to meet yours in a sensual dance. He tried to be gentle at first, but your virgin cunt was just so wet and warm that he couldn't help it but succumb to his primal desires. “Jus' like tha', princess. Take this fat cock.” He whispered loud enough so only you could hear, making you weak in the knees.

His calloused hand let go of your hips to find your clit, starting to rub it with just the right pressure to make you squirm under his touch. The mixed sensations of intense pleasure and pain confusing your brain, making you melt like putty in his hands. Overwhelming waves of pleasure surged through you, leaving your head blissfully empty as if every thought had been swept away by the sheer intensity of the sensation, which was exactly what Daryl wanted, to turn you into a brainless little fucktoy for him.

If a few months ago somebody told you that you'd be letting some perverted older man take advantage of you in your own room, you would've laughed right in their face. Giving your innocence away to anybody used to feel like such a distant reality, and now there you were, pressed against the wall by Daryl's sweaty body while he mercilessly pounded your no longer virgin cunt, making you experience the most pleasurable pain you could ever feel.

As he continued bucking his hips like a desperate animal, you drooled against his hand, your brain now reduced to putty due to the overpowering sensation that dominated your every sense. “Nngh...” Your muffled moans stirred an even deeper desire within Daryl, turning him as primal as one could be. Your body language made it obvious that you were close to your orgasm, and this time, he didn't plan to deny you of it.

But you had never experienced something like that. You didn't know pleasure could get so extreme that could made you burst, so as the sensation built and grew stronger, it also made you unsure about where it was taking you, and you tried to fight the feeling. Daryl's skilled fingers working your clit only threw you even closer to the edge and you felt like your legs could fail at any moment.

Noticing the shift in your demeanor, he muttered against your ear. “Jus' let it go, baby. Trust me, don' hold it.” His tone was strangely sweet considering what you were both up to, but his encouraging words relaxed you a little, and as he intensified the rubbing on your clit, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold it in not even if you wanted to, whatever it was.

Then, it hit you. An entirely unfamiliar and intense sensation washed over you, catching you off guard. It felt like uncharted emotional and physical territory, leaving you completely stunned, wide-eyed, and grappling with the unexpected intensity of the experience, something that almost made you mad at your dad from convincing you of staying away from it for so long.

Daryl had to intensify the pressure of his hand against your lips, but even so, he wasn't able to muffle your cries completely as your body convulsed and you were sure you lost consciousness for a few seconds. “Good girl, cum for me.” You didn't know what that word meant, but considering the situation, you understood that it probably had something to do with the new type of pleasure you just experienced.

As the orgasmic sensation slowly faded away, it was replaced with an even more overwhelming feeling of overstimulation. You squirmed even harder and you swore you could cry if he continued using your cunt like that, not giving you any breaks to catch your breath. You'd been turned into a whimpering and drooling mess, a total slut for his cock. You wanted him to have his way with you and you knew that if he wanted to, you'd let him fuck you all day without arguing.

The intense clenching of your tight pussy around his length initiated his own orgasm, and now it was his turn to experience the compelling feeling of being right on the edge of pleasure. “Fuck, turn 'round." He desperately voiced, but he didn't even waited for you before decisively grasping your shoulders, swiftly turning you to face him. As he did so, he removed his cock from inside you and stroked it hard and fast for a few seconds with just enough pressure to make himself burst.

Your mesmerized eyes watched as the pleasure took over his body. And now, it all made sense as he started shooting his load aiming right on your bare pussy, just as he was doing earlier today when you first caught him in your room. The warm sticky substance coated your cunt and it was so much that it felt like it would never end, leaving you astonished. You couldn't help but smile at the sight before you.

You two stared into each other's eyes while desperately trying to catch your breaths, sharing a small chuckle and satisfied smiles. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead and now, you knew who to come up to when you feel that funny feeling in your lower belly again. You knew Daryl had what it took to take care of your needs.

Without saying anything else, he pulled his briefs and pants back up again, adjusting his clothes. Then, he reached for his pocket, pulling out those panties he had stolen earlier and putting them on you again, leaving his load smeary and sticking to your skin. “Leave it there.” He hoarsely voiced, ordering you to walk around with his cum inside your clothes while no one else knew of it except the both of you.

“And these...” He walked over to your bed and bended his knees a little so he could reach for the white cotton panties he had tossed aside right before railing you and put them in his pocket.

“...'M gunna keep these fer later.”

a/n: omg guys the first part of sweet scent got over 1.1k notes and that's like??? insane??? tysm for all ur support, that's crazy. it was so much fun to write both parts and i'm so thankful if you read it this far!! i hope y'all have a great and happy holidays xx

taglist: @imagininghim , @murdadixon , @epilepsywarrior8787 , @darklydixon

[emmaofnormandy]

Imagine Aegon is the father of your children.

Warnings: fluff all the way; canon divergence; long post.

( @dracaryxzs for you! One hopes you might like seeing Aegon happy here)

***

• How it all began…

You are his twin, his other half… What one feels the other feels it too. Naturally, as a result, bond came. Courtiers like to say how “wherever the Lord Aegon goes, Lady Y/N is after him like a loyal puppet.”

What they don’t understand is that you and him are two sides of the same coin, blood of dragon, despite the prince calling you his sun, to which he himself gravitates.

“I cannot not believe you are never bored whenever we are together”, says Aegon.

You both are blossoming into youth. You are the only one he trusts, the one he is naturally charmed to. But something about his age doesn’t let him admit there are feelings too.

“I am unlike any other”, you tell him in turn, a smile on your rosy lips. “We came together to this world, Aegon.”

He gives you a shy smile, lowering his gaze—you tamed him, like, it is said, your grandmother had tamed her husband, your grandsire, when they were both the same age.

Lively and so full of life, not even Aegon can deny you anything.

“Let us ride, shall we?”

And not waiting for a response, he takes you by the hand and in between giggles and chuckles the two of you go after your respective dragons.

Sunfyre has been enamored by Dreamfyre and as a result the female dragon has put some eggs. As soon as you are told this, you tell the object of your affections that:

“See, Egg? Evident signs that we are bonded right here”, and you show him the different coloured eggs.

Aegon smiles at you. How can you make him forget the scars of his troubled soul? How can you even sweep away grey clouds, making it seem that it is possible to find happiness?

When looking at your serenity, at how beaming you are before the eggs you cling yourself to, the prince sees himself in you.

You are the light of my world, Y/N.

As if you feel the tenderness his thought emanates, you turn your head at him and give him an egg.

“We are grandparents now, I’m afraid.”

That makes him cackle. A sound so rejoicing, full of life. Few could tell to have ever heard Lord Aegon laugh merrily.

“Too young for that. Come, Y/N!” And then turning to Sunfyre, Aegon is the image of a boy who finds love and happiness where at home such were taken from him.

You smile warmly when seeing the golden dragon almost smiling itself the moment he welcomes his rider.

A bond as strong as the one I have with my beloved.

Then you are distracted by nearly losing balance when Dreamfyre comes at you, resting her head against your face.

“Calm down, girl. I am not as heavy as you are”, you giggle, gently laying your head over the scales of your dragon, whom you claimed when you were ten years old. “Ready to fly high? To some adventures, eh?”

A sound comes from your dragon’s throat. It’s almost as if she speaks excitedly: “Aye, let us go! I’m ready for it!”, which only increases your good mood.

Now here you two are, flying synchronized, one being the extension of the other. Skies may have some clouds, but sun shines high with some warm breeze that announces summer.

“I suggest we could fly atop Dragonstone”, you tell Aegon over your shoulder. “There’s a spot no one goes there.”

“Rhaenyra is settled there with her children”, says Aegon with an unread expression.

You shrug your shoulders.

“So what? I’ve been there frequently and not once she scoffed me off. I doubt she ever knew I flew to this spot.”

And you flash him a mischievous smirk.

Aegon laughs in turn, realizing he’s unable to deny you anything. Flying as high as he could, there’s little need to tell Sunfyre where to go. As if the creature captured the rider’s thoughts, he flies exactly to where he wants… as does Dreamfyre.

It is almost as if both dragons suspect something may come up… even if you and Aegon don’t know that yet.

*

There is a lake in the midst of vast forests, where silence reigns and there is no sign of any living being. A few hills here and there separate the spot of the rest of Dragonstone.

“How did you come here?”, Aegon inquires you, intrigued by this unusual place. Hardly a man acostumed to wild life, his eyes scan these new surroundings with a mix of suspect and curiosity.

You are untying your hair and loosening your gown—you often ride Dreamfyre in your feast gowns, much to the Queen’s dismay— when you say:

“I don’t think I fit very well at court. I tend to flee whenever I can.”

Aegon is somewhat distracted by your curves, and how poorly hidden your curves are beneath the fabric you dress. He swallows hard, then says:

“We are betrothed. One day you’ll be queen.”

You flash him another of your typical mischievous smirks.

“When have I never performed my duties, brother?”

Aegon shakes his head, but he’s chuckling when he comes next to you.

“Well?”, you tilt your head and the prince seems to notice how handsome you look, wild and free—the way you are born to be. “Aren’t you going to swim with me?”

“Is that a challenge?”, he asks you in a whisper.

You like how he looks at you. Maybe this makes your nipples hard. And maybe this makes him burning inside.

“Perhaps.”

And without waiting for a response, you jump in. Aegon smirks, soon following you.

***

• Summer Children.

His kiss is indescribable. No words can do justice to the warmth his breath gives you, to the bliss it inspires you, to the affection it craves in you. Oh, where are the words when we need most?

Whispers at court regard you and Aegon as the “Baelon and Alyssa” of your age, perhaps two souls reincarnated. Whatever the truth, all you can think about is the taste of his lips against yours.

Not only that, there is more to inspire. As you are riding Dreamfyre in the absence of your lover—he’s been summoned by your father to attend the council—, summer breeze cannot cool down the heat in your heart. And you still recall that night.

Where no living being is found amidst corridors, when, for a moment of weakness, no guard lies awake; when unprotecting is at stake… Here he comes, visiting you.

Boldly so, his steps are silent—right under his demeanor there is a haunted boy, famine for affection, filled with desire to please… but above all, a very insecure man who needs to play pretend before all.

Even though you are not like any other, being in fact the only one who’s witnessed his fragility, he remains blunt in his manners.

Yet when the door opens… and you stand there in your line nightgown with your hair loose, his confidence dies.

“I feared you’d not come”, but there is nothing blunt or arrogant in how you welcome him; but rather tenderness from the moment he’s engulfed in your arms. “I missed you, Aegon. Too much I long for you.”

“My dear Y/Nickname…”, he buries his head against your neck and from the moment he inhales your scent, no pride is strong enough to resist the obvious. “In vain have I struggled to repress my sentiments for you.”

Hearing these words give you the reassurance you’ve been longing.

“Oh you took long enough, didn’t you? I’ve been kept in waiting, but it was worth it.”

One kiss and you are doomed. Aegon waits no longer, not anymore. He takes hold of your face and presses his lips against yours, biting your bottom lip and slamming the door as he leads the way.

“You must promise, though”, you push him away gently, much to his frustration. But you need to be sure… just in case.

“Anything”, his voice comes out in a plea.

You raise your eyebrows and Aegon, though sensing what might be asked of, is willing to pay the price. He is not letting go of you.

“No more whoring. I am no woman of sharing”, you tell him seriously.

Aegon smiles warmly, but you spot relief behind his eyes. He grabs you by the waist and says:

“I am yours and yours alone, Y/N. We came out to this world together, didn’t we? So we are dying together as well.”

“That is some drama you put in there, love”, you smirk before clashing your lips against his.

That night you came to learn you loved riding your dragon and we are not talking about Dreamfyre.

*

Nine moons later, the results of you and Aegon’s indiscretion comes to the world with a very strong pair of lungs.

“Here comes a very strong prince”, so announces the midwife.

You are exhausted after almost 12 hours in labour, a puddle of sweat and blood, but from the moment you are told you delivered a boy, you beamed proudly:

“I performed my duty well.”

Aegon, in the meantime, is left waiting outside, pacing impatiently in the corridors.

“One wonders what witchcraft has Y/N used to keep you in this state”, muses Aemond in his unusual show of sense of humor.

The prince of Dragonstone doesn’t bother answering Aemond, rather limiting to shooting a glare. It’s when Princess Helaena comes with a smile on her lips.

“My brothers.”

“We salute you well, sister. But pray tell us the news soon: is Y/N well? How’s the child?”

“She is doing great, Aegon. She’s recovering and getting some rest. As for the child… congratulations! You have a healthy baby boy!”

Aegon is paled by the news and even Aemond gets somewhat concerned with his older brother, holding him by his elbows.

“Are you well?”

“A boy”, he mumbles. “Y/N gave us a boy.”

“Our line is safe”, Aemond agrees. Then turning at Helaena, he asks: “Has the name been chosen?”

“Well, Y/N wants a traditional name… so she decided to have the boy named after you, Aegon.”

No one had ever seen the prince Aegon this overjoyed. The way he smiles… who wouldn’t be captivated by this sight? Even Aemond smiles too at this sight. Of all the misadjusted family, at least two of them found happiness… though when Helaena looks at him, he’s not too far from it himself.

“I must see her!”

Ignoring Helaena’s advice that no man is allowed in these chambers, Aegon, tradition-breaker, storms inside, demanding to see you.

You have just left your privy quarters dressed in a line nightgown with your hair wet and recently brushed when he comes at you.

“Husband!”, you giggle quietly when you are engulfed by his strong arms. “You should wait for me. I am not churched yet and we must…”

“Fuck traditions. I wanted to see my wife”, says he, peppering your face with tender kisses before looking at you with the devotion of a lover. “Are you well?”

You cast him the most infatuated glance to him, locking your hands around his neck as if there were no witnesses in the room.

“I am, thank you. Nothing that I could not handle myself”, you assure him. “Aegon, I performed my duties. I gave you a son.”

“Even if it wasn’t, as long as the child is healthy and you are healthy too, nothing else matters”, he whispers in your ear.

The prince cannot state enough his relief in seeing you well and safe. By how he holds you close, it is as if he needs another reassurance that childbirth will not steal you of him.

Feeling his fears, you raise your chin and give him that blunt gaze that marks your lively personality which he’s familiar with.

“I have no intention in leaving you alone in this world, unless you choose another to be in my place.”

Aegon gives you a meaningful look before snorting and scoffing at the same time.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N! How could you possibly consider I’d find a substitute for you? I thought you knew me better, woman.”

You both share a quiet laugh before kissing as if to seal an unspoken vow. Not too far from the scene is the Queen, with her father by her side.

“Who’d know this was coming?”, she sighs, content with the merry scene that rolls before her gaze. “I may have been deprived of happiness myself, but on the other hand… thankfully such a burden is not placed on the shoulders of mine own offspring.”

“Do not be so dramatic, Alicent. This match is as fruitful as yours was”, says Otto, nonchalantly like usual. “But at times even I admit that I can see Baelor and Alyssa once more.”

A struggle he keeps to himself, since Otto and Baelor never saw eye to eye. Leaving such personal haunting aside, eventually this summer prince also named Aegon is seen placed in the arms of his mother.

“He’s a lovely child”, murmurs Aegon, whose head is now resting over your shoulder. “I cannot stop looking away of his delicate features.”

“Perhaps you should hold him”, you suggest in a whisper since the regal baby is asleep in your arms.

“I do not wish to wake him up”, says your husband, though you may detect a degree of panic in his voice.

You find his concern adorable, respecting his time. This afternoon, you and him watch over your newly born soon in great delight of how your love produced a handsome baby.

“Our summer prince”, you beam at him.

Aegon shares a smile with you. He looks thrilled before kissing your forehead.

“I cannot believe I am his father.”

“A doting father as I’m sure you will be.”

At times he doubts it, but this is a shadow he is unwilling to cast in such a bright moment. All Aegon can say is:

“Thank you for believing in me.”

He does blush though when you kiss his cheek and tell him in turn:

“How could it be otherwise? As my other half, you shall burn as bright as any dragon, my sun and stars.”

***

Little Egg, as he is called, is getting every attention Aegon’s father never bother doting his son. Whilst you are breast feeding, just nine months later his birth, a baby girl whom you named Alysanne after your favourite ancestor, father and son are found together at the nunnery.

“Your mother told me she plans to take you and Dear Alys to fly our dragon. I am not discouraging her, but we should best wait for a litttle bit, uh?”, says the protective father whilst rocking his lively and often chuckling boy in his arms. “Oh so you think this is funny? Are you planning to take after your great-grandparents?”

Aegon is holding him still, playing with the boy when the moment is interrupted by a maid.

“Excuse me, sire. His lordship must be fed. And your lady wife has summoned you.”

“Very well”, he stands, with the prince in his arms. “Before I handle you my precious jewel, Lady H/N, I must be certain you have been fed well. After all, you are responsible for feeding my child.”

“Indeed, lord. I am healthy and robust from the day I started the service”, the woman says seriously.

“Good. I appreciate it”, he nods before kissing his son’s temple. When seeing he’s about to weep, Aegon softens: “Do not cry, my prince. This is not a farewell. I shall go back later, I assure you.”

Reluctantly, he parts, though he does wish to go back when hearing a cry. Aegon pauses at the door but when looking back, Lady H/N has taken little Egg inside the quarters.

*

“How is mine faire ladies?”, the soon to be king asks you the moment he steps inside.

“Looking better than you”, you giggle quietly. “What happened, love?”

“I had to leave him with those women”, Aegon grumbles.

“I know. I don’t like leaving him there either, but thanks to you I can only feed one child now”, you laugh quietly.

Alysanne, whose hair is as silver as her parents’s, makes noises and Aegon, now more confident in how handling babies, carefully holds her.

“If I remember well, you were climbing on me when I was trying to sleep just the day you were churched”, Aegon chuckles.

“You keep saying that to yourself”, you lean to kiss his cheek. “You have been blessed with a handsomeness that makes me difficult not to merrily engage in marital affairs.”

Again, your bluntness makes him blush, a deed only you could brag in succeed doing so. Aegon gives you a long, meaningful look.

“Watch your tongue, woman. You don’t know what you are saying.”

But his mischievous smirk tells you precisely otherwise. The connection you two share has never grown stronger…

***

• Midnight Sun.

Little Egg is barely three when Aegon takes him for a ride in Sunfyre and you take two year old Alysanne with you as you mount Dreamfyre. It’s late night and since this family is restless, there’s no obligation to stop them in doing so—as if any would do in other period of the day.

“Fly high, Dreamfyre”, you whisper the command in High Valyrian and the dragon doesn’t need much before taking impulse and… weeeee, you and your excited child finally get to the skies.

“Let us do this, S.”, Aegon tells his beautiful golden dragon, resting his face against the creature’s forehead. “Look, this is the son I told you about. He gets my name, and Gods hope that he takes after my best traits. Not that I have many, but…”

Sunfyre buffs as if saying: oh please, you may not be perfect, but you have great qualities! To which Aegon blushes and smiles.

“You are a great friend, Sunfyre.”

“Daddy”, says Little Egg. “Fly!”

“Calm down young man. Are you in a rush?”, Aegon chuckles at his demanding son.

“Mommy… flew.”

“Oh. She’s always in a rush that woman you call your mother. Let’s do it then.”

And soon Aegon’s smile would spread larger if possible as Sunfyre finally spreads his large wings and begins to fly, the reason why Little Egg is happy.

When they are finally getting higher, Aegon makes sure his son is enjoying it. He wants to create this memorable moment that shall reinforce the bond father and son has.

It’s working since little Egg turns his head to his father and says:

“Amazing!”

“Are you enjoying that, my boy?”

“Yes! More, more! Please!”

Aegon laughs happily and does as requested. They fly as high as possible before diving below to meet you and Alysanne. The scene makes the prince emotional. His wife is looking as beautiful as wild as the day he realized he loved you to an unbearable point.

Sensing his gaze, you turn your head to meet him. And feeling your feelings, Dreamfyre is instantly drawn to Sunfyre.

“How’s it going?”, you ask him, eyes sparkling with delight for making it possible an old dream where you and Aegon, together with children of your own, would fly with your respective dragons.

“Just the way you wanted”, so Aegon tells you as if he’s read your mind.

You and him exchanged loving gazes and sweet smiles, letting the dragons taking the reins of the situation.

Indeed, as your children beam, Dreamfyre and Sunfyre dance.

Such is the dance of the dragons.

**

The toddlers are snoring by the time you and Aegon land.

“They should sleep with us in bed this night”, he suggests you, as he passes an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss on top of your forehead.

“I agree”, and then you instantly pause before the door of the red keep. “Aegon… I would like to thank you.”

“What for?”, he asks you, intrigued.

“For giving me these lovely children, for being the partner I’ve always known you’d be. For being my other half.” You smile softly. “I’d die for you, I hope you know that. You deserve to be loved, to all that you are given.”

“Y/N…”, he’s surprised to hearing these words of you, even though Aegon never needed proof of how you felt for him.

You stroke his face, wiping away his tears. Both of you know that you only have each other, and yet it’s enough. Specially now you have children of your own.

Resting his forehead against yours, the prince closes his eyes and kisses you.

“Whatever our souls are made of…”

“…mine and yours are the same.”

***

• Epilogue.

Alysanne is fast asleep when she dreams of dragons. Dragons that fight, dragons that die, dragons that survive. In the midst of chaos, she runs after her father.

Where is he? She calls out his name only to find another who is not in his throne. She wakes up thus, unable to remember the usurper’s identity, a mere shadow. But it’s enough to scare the seven year old princess.

She leaves her privy chambers. It’s still dark, but she needs to be sure he’s there somehow. Alysanne runs barefoot to her parents’ chambers. She opens its door, holding her breath but praising the Gods there’s some fire in the fireplace.

She sees you’re sleeping next to your father, but when seeing he’s there…. what a relief. Yet, the princess is scared to go back to her chambers.

“Papa”, she pokes him. “Papa, wake up.”

Aegon groans lightly, but when seeing it’s his oldest daughter calling him, he only rubs his eyes and makes sure to sit properly, careful in not waking you up.

“Lys”, he calls her affectionately and is probably thankful for wearing some proper garments after early copulating with you. “What’s wrong?”

Alysanne quickly throws her arms around his neck.

“I am scared. I don’t want to lose you”, she sniffs.

Aegon rocks her in his arms, smiling quietly for doing so.

“You’re not losing me. Who told you this nonsense? Has Little Egg been teasing you again?”

“No. He’s been good, actually”, she tells him, holding tightly against his neck. “I had a nightmare.”

For some reason, this gives him shivers. But Aegon isn’t inclined to dig into this deeper.

“A nightmare is just a nightmare. Come. Do you want to sleep with mama and papa today?”

Alysanne smiles brightly. She then kisses his cheek just as you are waking up.

“What happened?”, you ask, worried. “Are you well, my dear Alys?”

“She had a nightmare”, Aegon tells you as if this doesn’t mean anything, but one exchange of glances tells you this isn’t anything. Yet neither should feed it. And you agree. “So I’m letting her sleep with us tonight.”

You nod discreetly before kissing your daughter’s forehead.

“Of course. Like the good old days uh?”

And you watch as Alysanne makes herself comfortable in between you and your husband. Aegon strokes her hair as you cover her.

“Do you think…?” Aegon leaves the question in the air.

“Let us leave to concern about it tomorrow. It’s late.”

Aegon agrees. But neither looks forward to go back to sleep. As he casts a fond gaze at the princess, you take his hand and give it a small squeeze.

“It’s going to be all right. Helaena is doing well with it.”

“I know. But…”

“And at the same time she’s not like Helaena”, you tell him. “Let us not confuse things. It’s going to be well.”

“I just worry. I do not wish…”

Aegon looks away, remembering the wounds of his neglect childhood. There’s little need to explain since you can feel what he feels.

“Aegon, my love. We are not like them”, you tell him firmly. As he looks at you, you stroke his hair and place a lock of his messy hair behind his ear. “We are not like our parents. We are better than them. I’d not say so if I believed otherwise. Just look at how Egg seeks to impress you, how Alysanne came after you tonight… or how our twins Jaehaerys and Jaehaera often run after you.”

Aegon smiles quietly.

“How can you convince me that easily?”

“It’s the truth I speak. Besides… I have to tell you something”, and here you whisper. “I conceived again.”

“Oh how fertile we are!”, Aegon chuckles merrily.

You both kiss, before settling to lay down, careful now with your daughter fast asleep in between you. Shadows for once are pushed and in late night midnight sun comes to shine bright.

Oh these delights…

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

So Danny is older, and lives in Gotham as a mechanic (he could be a We mechanic, a JLA mechanic, whatever) and eventually, he starts dating Bruce Wayne.

Now, Danny knows the Wayne at the bats, it’s kinda hard to hide your vigilantism from a former vigilante. But Danny doesn’t mention it, he knows the dangerous of telling your loved ones.

Jazz is alive and a therapist is Coast City (Jazz x Hal? Could that work? Idk too much about the green lanterns). Dan is undercover to investigate pools of corrupted ectoplasm that’s guarded by an assassin cult, and Dani is still traveling the world, not for pleasure, but for the Realms.

Dani doesn’t age. It’s a side effect of being a clone. She destabilized one to many times and now her ghost half won’t let her age so she won’t die.

Dani can’t exactly settle down in a city likes the others. She looks 12. And while her siblings would take care of her in a heartbeat, she needs to fill her obsession of history and adventure.

So, she starts hunting for old artifacts, especially the magic ones. It’s a great way to learn about history and get a sense of adventure.

She’s been doing this for a couple years, building a name for herself and she gotten very good. (Keep in mind she only looks 12, but she’s actually like 33 mentally and intellectually)

Eventually, she crosses paths with a bat while searching for an artifact. (Even better if its Duke. We need more Duke. Probably won’t work with Cass, we’ll use Duke for the prompt, but can be switched out)

Obviously, Duke is kinda confused as to why a 12 yo is going after a dangerous magic artifact in the middle of but-fuck nowhere and offers to take her to Gotham and drops her off there after taking the artifact.

Dani knows better, she was going to refuse, but the realized she could take this as a free ride. So she agrees.

The reach Gotham and go their separate ways, and Duke goes home immediately, didn’t even take the time to tell anyone about the girl. but when Duke is at home hanging with their civilian stepdad, Danny gets a call and says he’s inviting his younger sister over

Bruce: Jazz? Jazz is older that you

Danny: nope! I have another sister!

Everyone: ???

Bruce: how comes we never meet her?

Danny: you have! She was at the wedding! But you’ll see her again don’t worry! She doesn’t visit often so I’m excited!

They arrives, the bat opens the door and Dani walks in.

Danny: Dani!!

Dani: Danny!!

So people are confused, Duke is like omg my aunt is an artifact hunter?? while everyone else is like omg my aunt is younger than me??

Eventually, Danny opens her backpack and goes:

Dani: so I was in *insert random place in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere* and found this! *pulls out artifact* I thought you would like so I brought it for you!

Danny: aww, thanks Dani, you shouldn’t have

Duke, who put that artifact in the cave for study: 👁️👄👁️

And Dani gives them a wink.

Duke isn’t going to take that lying down and attempts to find out Dani’s secrets while shes thwarting him at every turn.

Dani stays at the manor for a while, but nobody believe Duke when he tries warning them of Dani, because Duke didn’t tell anyone about the artifact

Things become even more alarming when Danny also start thwarting him, despite not know the family secret. (Danny thinks that Duke is onto the family secret.)

Cue crack, angst, fluff, whatever your heart desires.

[babypudge]

🍼🪞Mirror on the Ceiling🪞🍼

The house was impressive, despite still being under construction. Exactly why it was suggested as the venue for your second date was unclear, but you assumed it was just a power play - she was older, wealthy and probably trying to compensate for the age gap by flaunting a little. She needn't have, you'd been smitten from the first glance across the bar.

Entering a half-finished bedroom on the first floor, you couldn't help but notice something unusual - there was a giant mirror installed on the ceiling.

"Wait... is that so you can watch yourself in bed?" you smirked and pointed an accusing finger in her direction, feeling confident that this being the first stop on the tour was an extremely unsubtle way of flirting.

"Its so YOU can watch yourself in bed." came the winking reply, along with a playful one-finger bop on the nose on that seemed to emphasize her seniority over you, "I guess you could call this a "playroom" of sorts. Maybe you'd like to be my little boy-toy, hmmm?"

You couldn't believe it - the walls were unpainted, the floor was unfinished and the en suite bathroom lacked any hint of where the toilet would go - but there was already a mirror on the ceiling. Sure, it was a little weird, but at least you knew she wasn't uptight about sex.

All the same, with no furniture or carpet in the house, the night ended with nothing more than a peck on the cheek. Days become weeks, weeks became months, the relationship was getting serious, but somehow the house was nearly finished without you having gotten past second base.

"Don't worry, baby, you'll be seeing a lot of yourself in that mirror once the furniture gets delivered." was enough to keep you going. It became a little game between the two of you - so much so that you didn't think twice about being "forbidden" from entering the house during the final weeks of construction.

When the day of the house warming party eventually came, you were so excited that the mythic playroom was finally within reach.

"There's my little darling!" seemed like an unusual greeting to receive as you met your new love at the front door, but you didn't really think much of it. Nor did you think much about the glass of red wine you were handed being so bitter, despite otherwise tasting exactly like plain grape juice - you never really drank wine anyhow, so you marked it down to inexperience. A little alcohol always helped you mingle at parties, so you drank greedily as you stepped into the foyer.

The house was full of people you didn't know, but you recognized a couple you'd been on a few double dates with over in the living room. They were in a small group looking through a pile of something, but you couldn't get a good look at exactly what. Whatever it was, it seemed to be getting an odd mixture of reactions that ranged from "Aww, so adorable!" to "Uh oh!" - almost all of them followed by an smattering of laughter from everyone.

You assumed they must be going through material samples for something in the house that wasn't finished yet, it certainly looked like cloth of some sort, but it was too far away to be sure.

"Come over here, there's somebody special you need to meet!" she said, grabbing your hand and leading you into the kitchen.

"Heeey! There he is!" came an unexpectedly warm greeting from a man you'd never seen before. He was the "silver fox" type, and in many ways he reminded you of your new girlfriend. You assumed he must be her brother and did your best to act casual, despite a sudden feeling of light headedness.

"You know, honey, I wasn't so sure about this at first - but you were right, this house already feels more like a home with our little guy in it. He really is adorable..." the man reached out and gently stroked your face. You tried to recoil from his hand, but your reaction time was so delayed that he'd already finished before you could move a muscle. Everything felt strange and your brain was swimming in confused thoughts.

The man gently removed the nearly empty wine glass from your hand and put on an exaggerated look on concern. "Uh-oh, who gave the baby glass? C'mon tiger, give that to papa, its not safe for a munchkin like you. Let's get that into a baba - then you can make the rest of your nummy grape juice go all-gone for Mommy and Daddy, okay?"

You tried to ask what was going on, but the words just wouldn't come out - whatever was in that wine was working fast. Your eyes darted over to your "girlfriend" who seemed to be glowing with joy over the situation in front of her.

"You see, I told you that you'd be a natural at this, sweetheart. He isn't even settled into the nursery yet and you're already acting like an adoring father" she said, giving the man a peck on the cheek.

"Just remember, I'm only changing the wet diapers." he smirked.

"We'll see about that..." she chided "but speaking of which, we really should get our lil' lamb into his Huggies - the guy I got this stuff from warned me that people tend to loose control once they're knocked out. It's a little sad that baby will miss out on his first dirty diaper, but I'm sure everyone will take plenty of pictures for him to see later - besides, there'll be a LOT more where that came from!"

You gathered up all your remaining strength to try and run, but you didn't get more than a few steps out of the kitchen before collapsing onto the carpet. Crawling on all fours, you could see the front door and tried to move towards it.

"Ooooh, look, he's crawling! Where're ya' goin' tiger? Is my rugrat exploring his new home?" the man called after you with a surprisingly genuine parental tone. "Okay, everyone, we're ready to start the baby shower!"

Guests from all over the house converged in the front room, blocking your path to the door. They didn't seem to pay much attention to your plight - a few took pictures, a few cooed and pinched your cheeks, but nobody seemed to share your confusion.

Shortly before losing consciousness, you felt yourself being rolled onto a soft pad on the floor and your pants being unbuckled. Somebody placed something in your mouth and you couldn't seem to spit it out - you felt something cold and damp against your skin, then something soft being pulled between your legs, then another, and another. The sound of tape and the crinkle of plastic seemed to be coming from miles away as you finally succumbed to sleep.

When you awoke, all you could see was yourself strapped down in a giant crib, wearing a thick diaper, plastic pants and a onesie. It took a moment for it all to sink in, but you eventually accepted that this was no dream. Just as promised - you'd be getting a lot of time in the playroom, you were nothing more than her little boy-toy, and you'd be spending countless hours watching yourself in the mirror on the ceiling.

[lovebugism]

hi! reader doesn’t like kids at all, but somehow eddie’s child is just different and the cutest sweetest child who warms their heart

✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ the beginning ]

summary: when steve harrington brings you as a plus-one to a munson birthday party, he forgets to tell you it's for eddie's four-year-old, maeve. (1.8k)

pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader

tags: strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, meet ugly-ish, fluff, girl dad eddie munson™, r is not used to being around kids (and it shows), baby blurb turned spin-off universe <3

When Steve Harrington invites you to a birthday party, he fails to mention it’s for a four-year-old. 

The tiny trailer is decked out in decoration. A fusion of black and rainbow, of bats and unicorns, of vampires and Tickle Me Elmo — like no one could land on a singular theme. 

Steve guides you into the home with a golden hand on the small of your back, his other clutching a sparkly black bag with Count von Count’s face on it. You stop very suddenly in your tracks. Happy 4th Birthday, Maeve! reads a handpainted sign draped beneath the ceiling.

You become very hyperaware of the whiskey bottle in your right hand, something you figured would be the most sufficient thing to gift someone you’d never met before. You just hadn’t expected the stranger to be a child.

“What the fuck, Steve?” you bite under your breath, glaring at the boy beside you. “I thought you said this was your friend’s birthday party?”

“Maeve is my friend,” he answers with a stupid shrug. “Though, to be fair, I did say it was my friend’s kid’s birthday party.”

He most definitely hadn’t.

“What the hell— I brought booze!”

“That’s okay,” assures a wild-haired boy with a pretty pink grin as he walks up to the two of you. The friend in question. 

Eddie Munson wears a silver ring on each finger and a thick leather jacket despite the warming spring season. His laughter sounds like sunshine. His smile is bright enough to give you a goddamn sunburn.

“Maeve’s been getting presents all day— It’s about time someone got somethin’ for me,” he jokes.

You grimace while the two boys laugh. “Sorry…” you murmur as you pass him the bottle, shrinking inside yourself in an attempt to hide from the moment. I’m never letting Steve convince me to leave the house again, you think to yourself.

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. Seriously. I’ll go stick this in the kitchen— Make yourself at home.”

Your racing heart quells only slightly. He must be more of a good guy than Steve made him out to be, if he’s willing to keep you around after you brought booze to his daughter’s party. Though, you’ll contend that you were only half at fault for this.

Steve bites back a chuckle as he walks you to the back door, standing with you on the little wooden deck lined with sparkly streamers. There’s a picnic table off in the distance, covered in a bat-patterned cloth and set with Sesame Street-themed utensils. A small crowd of teenagers gather around it, and a couple of their parents, you figure.

The spring breeze only half soothes your burning skin.

“See?” he lilts, trying not to laugh and failing. “He likes you already—”

You swat his chest with a less than kind hand. 

“Ow!”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Harrington, I swear to—”

“What’s your favorite animal?” a tiny voice asks from behind you, a smidge too loud and confusing their R’s with W’s.

You look over your shoulder, face flooded with horror. A kid with wild chocolate hair stands at less than half your height, wearing the tiniest Ozzy Osbourne shirt you’ve ever seen beneath a rainbow tutu. You don’t know what to say, so you just blink at it for a moment — at her.

“Hey, Maeve,” Steve greets with a curt wave.

The girl beams, missing her very front tooth. “Hi, Uncle Steve!”

“Wha— Huh?” you stammer mindlessly. ‘Cause you’re not exactly the best at talking to people your own age, let alone to children. They’re too honest. And too loud. And beyond still feeling like a kid yourself most days, you don’t have anything in common with them.

“What’s your favorite animal?” Maeve repeats in the same inflection, smiling until a dimple appears in her freckled cheek. “Mine’s a Hefflelump.”

“Hef… Hefflelump?” you echo quietly, only vaguely registering Steve’s laughter as he disappears through the screeching screen door, leaving you all alone. You’re definitely killing him for this.

“Yeah… From Winne the Pooh!” she says like it’s obvious.

“Oh… Okay…”

“What’s yours?”

You stumble over your words to find an answer. “Um… Uh… I don’t— I don’t know…”

“Everyone has a favorite animal,” she scoffs like some kinda critic with a speech impediment. She tilts her chin to her chest and peers up at you with a pair of doe eyes, so brown they’re almost black. You shift your weight on your feet, visibly uncomfortable beneath her unwavering stare.

“Maybe like a… A blobfish, or something?” you shrug.

Her tiny face screws in disgust. “Gross,” she spits.

You flinch. “What? Why is that gross?” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest, more defensive than you’d like to admit.

“They’re so ugly,” Maeve giggles.

“Why?” you squint. “‘Cause they look differently than we do?”

“No!” she laughs, loud and golden, just like her father. “’S ‘cause they’re so slimy.”

“Well— You— You’re slimy,” you stammer.

The wild-haired girl grins with all her baby teeth (well, besides the front one, anyway). “You’re slimy!” she echoes with a mischievous twinkle in her chocolate eyes.

The screen door squeals open again, the rusted hinges screeching in protest. “Who’s slimy?” a male voice questions from behind you, a smile audible in his voice.

“You are!” you and Maeve chorus at the same time. 

You whip your head around a second too late. Your heart drops to your ass when you find Eddie lingering in the doorway behind you. You stumble over your words while Maeve giggles. “Sorry! I thought— I thought you were Steve! I’m so sorry!”

A chuckle sputters from Eddie’s mouth. He’s nearly as grieved by it all as you are. “He just left,” he tells you with a lopsided smile, cocking his thumb over his shoulder. “I think he’s helping Wayne out front. They’re putting together Maeve’s d-o-l-l-h-o-u-s-e.”

His eyes flit upward as he tries hard to spell the word correctly. Upon your confused look, he says, “I can’t say it, or she’ll know what I’m talking about.”

“Right,” you nod.

Eddie crouches and holds his arms out for his daughter. Maeve’s tiny feet patter against the wooden deck as she rushes to him. He huffs at the weight of her — heavier than he remembers and getting bigger every day (which is weird ‘cause she was a newborn, like, a week ago). He grunts when he picks her up, propping her weight on his side.

“What were the two of you talkin’ about, then?”

“Blobfish!” she shouts with a beam.

Eddie breathes out a faint chuckle and turns to you. “She’s forcin’ you to pick a favorite animal, huh?” he wonders, then laughs a bit louder when you nod. “Yeah, she’s been doing that all day. It’s her new thing,” he says, nuzzling the tip of his nose into her curls. 

Realization seems to him then, and his brows furrow when he looks at you. His face, all twisted in confusion, is an exact replica of Maeve’s. 

“Wait— Your favorite animal is a blobfish?”

“That’s what I said!” the girl laughs.

You shift your weight on your feet and cross your arms over your chest. “I’m… feeling very judged in this moment…” you murmur under your breath, only half joking.

“I think that’s the most creative answer we’ve had yet, huh, Mae?” Eddie chuckles.

You scoff. “Well, I think Hefflelump’s pretty creative considering—”

The boy clears his throat, seeming to sense the rest of your sentence. His eyes widen in a lighthearted glare before he nods to the girl on his hip. Only then do you realize the words sitting on the tip of your tongue. You swallow them down immediately.

“Right…” you nod instead. “Nevermind…”

“Here—” Eddie huffs as he sets the girl down again. “—Go find Aunt Robin, alright? She’s probably decorating your cake as we speak.”

Maeve rushes off at the word cake, tottering on lanky, ungraceful legs. The two of you watch her go and linger in an awkward silence. Neither of you is quite sure how to make conversation without her there. You decide to start with an apology.

“I’m, uh, I’m sorry, by the way. Again,” you laugh awkwardly at yourself, scratching at the back of your neck. “I’m not… I’m not really… great with kids. If you couldn’t already tell.”

Eddie grins, pink and lopsided and pretty. You don’t feel deserving of the warmth swimming in his button eyes, glimmering beneath an early setting sun. “It’s okay. Seriously. You should’ve seen Robin and Steve the first time they met her— they were hopeless. And now they’re… Sort of alright, I guess.”

You force a faint chuckle. “Yeah, I’m— I’m just not used to being around them, I guess. I don’t even think I’ve talked to a kid her age since, like, elementary school.”

“I was the same way. ’Til I had Maeve and all…”

“Well, I couldn’t tell,” you assure him with a wavering smile. “You’re, like, a total pro. You’re great with her.”

He ducks his head to hide his blushing cheeks. The apples of them speckle warm and pink beneath the weight of your compliment. 

“Well… thank you,” he says, deflecting from your praise with that stupid, posh, D&D accent he always uses when he gets nervous. You don’t notice him grimacing at himself because you’re still stewing in your own embarrassment.

“And sorry for the booze, too. I seriously didn’t mean to bring— I mean, Steve didn’t even tell me that—”

“Stop apologizing,” Eddie chuckles warmly. “That part’s not your fault, alright? I don’t know if you know this or not, but your boyfriend’s a total idiot.”

Your face screws up. “Oh, he’s not— Steve’s not my boyfriend.”

The boy’s smile ebbs. “No?”

“No. No way!” you laugh before you mean to. “I’m pretty sure I’m just, like, his replacement best friend since Robin started dating Vickie.” 

Wide-eyed and distantly relieved, Eddie stammers like a teenage boy. “Oh. Right. That’s… That’s cool. Yeah.”

“Yeah…” you echo.

“Well, uh— I’m gonna see if Wayne wants any help,” he blurts despite knowing he’s been barred from doing handy work since he nearly drove a nail through his own finger. He just needs a way out, lest he keep stumbling over himself and lose all of his cool points with you. 

He saunters backward through the opened door and nearly trips over the frame.

You bite back a laugh. He forces a wavering smile. 

“But, um, I was thinkin’ about cracking open that bottle you brought. You know, after Maeve’s in bed and everything. If you— If you wanna hang around that long…”

The silence makes him as nervous as a teenage boy, all writhing and uncomfy in his skin. You nod in agreement, and his sparkling chest swells all over again. “Yeah,” you reply, lip quirked in a poorly hidden smile. “Sure. I’d— I’d like that…”

He smiles, all proud of himself. “Good. That’s… That’s good,” he stutters, then swallows hard and scurries off before you change your mind. 

Before he shuts the squealing screen door behind him, you hear Robin’s voice exclaim loudly from the kitchen. “What the hell’s a blobfish?!”

if u have any other ideas for hijinks these two idiots (and maeve) can get into, feel free to leave 'em here! (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

[hannieween]

moonlight | lights out series

Joshua had not only fallen in love with you, but with the life he had by your side. He just had to learn to find the balance between the life he was so in love with and the life he had worked so hard to achieve.

✮pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader x joshua hong ✮ genre: angst, fluff, smut [18+] ✮ aus: theatre director jeonghan, rockstar joshua, polyamorous relationship ✮ word count: 25.3k

› 🎧: limbo – dpr ian | horizon – i.m | hold me – hojean | cheese and wine – dpr live | different – woodz | love scene – baekhyun | take my hand – zerobaseone ‹ note: this song is so cute and perfect | ditto – new jeans | bad sad and mad – bibi → season one — season two — read more › smut warnings under the cut

✮ warnings: sleep paralysis, smut with plot, dom jeonghan, switch joshua, switch reader, alcohol consumption, slight mlm themes, slight dubcon: reader takes care of drunk hannie. reader is on birth control, smoking, corruption kink, dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex, blowjob, handjob, deepthroating, dacryphilia, fingering, creampies, tongue fucking, pussy drunk hannie, squirting, hair pulling, doggy style, rough sex, consensual recordings of sexual intercourse, a bit of cockwarming, vanilla sex, lazy love-making, nipple teasing, couch sex, dirty talk. brat taming: pussy slaps, spanking, edging, praise/degradation kink, light impact play, 1 slap on the cheek. pet names: bunny, beautiful, baby, princess, bad girl, filthy girl (hers), handsome, big baby, (jeonghan) babe, baby, handsome (joshua) ✮ author's note: this is incredibly self indulgent. also, these chapters are getting longer... having to write about two boyfriends at the same time is not for the text-limited posts on tumblr. i'm going to start posting my fics on ao3 too soon... so be on the lookout for that? hehe ✮ author's note 2: there are some instances where the word Bunny and/or Princess are with capital letters and that is to signify Y/N, ok? ok i'm terrible at explaining this .. i just don't like using the Y/N nomenclature. i feel like it pulls me out of the reading ✮ author's note 3: also thanks to @onlymingyus who helped me figure out some scenes! thank you baby 🩵 ✮ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

part iv

The candles were half-burnt, still lit, and sitting on the table with a forgotten charcuterie board and two empty cups of red wine. You had not finished cleaning the table when you got sidetracked by a serious conversation with your boyfriend on the couch.

A conversation that, predictably, ended with a heavy make-out session.

Joshua had to finish packing his suitcase, a thought that he pushed far back into the list of things he needed to get ready before he left for his first tour the following day. The number one priority to him though, was you. Despite the heavy topic of conversation that you both just had, he could match the passion of your kisses quite effortlessly.

It was his last night with you for what would be weeks. He was not sure when he was coming back exactly, since this tour was going to Midnight Haze’s first big tour.

This was a huge achievement. It was something he dreamed about when his band was just a local indie one. Now they were signed. They had their first studio album. And they were going on tour to visit different countries. A dream come true.

However, there was one thing holding him back.

Joshua never thought of himself as a romantic person. Not even remotely. He used to think he was content with being on his own. He never looked for love and made it very explicit with every partner he had. No relationships, no attachments. Only one goal, and he achieved that goal.

But in his journey, he never thought he would fall in laove. He was not expecting you. When he met you and accepted your proposal to have an entirely sexual relationship, he never noticed the warnings in his brain. Joshua blindly gave himself to you.

It shook his world to find you.

He wanted to stay in the coziness of the home you had given him. And to think that you were neighbors for years before you saw and talked to each other… he wondered sometimes what would have happened if you crossed paths differently, would he be here with you?

Involuntarily, his hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you closer on his lap. You stifled a moan in his mouth, one hand cupping his chin, while the other had slid down his chest, clinging onto to his plaid shirt.

“Babe,” you paused, but he protested with a groan, his hand sliding up to the middle of your back to keep you from pulling away from him. “Josh,” you mumbled in between desperate kisses. “You have to pack your things, don’t you?” you asked, a giggle fleeing between your lips.

You knew already that he had to finish packing, but that did not stop you from starting the make-out session. And he knew you were just trying to tease him because there he was, all riled up, becoming more and more addicted to your lips.

“I have till five in the morning,” he responded with a hoarse voice, his hand left your back to meet your cheek. “Come here.”

The hand clinging onto his shirt flattened between his pecs. “I mean, but you also have to sleep, right?”

“I can sleep on the plane.”

Joshua heard an airy chuckle leave your mouth as his hand cupping your cheek motioned you in for another deep, heated kiss. It was his turn to smile into the kiss then your hand on his chest found the first button of his shirt, slowly and almost meekly undoing it with one hand.

But you broke away, a playful grin curving your lips. “Are you sure though? I can help you pack, and then we continue where we left off?”

He shook his head slightly, getting lost in the features of your face. It was going to be a while before he saw you again like this. Even if you were planning to visit him soon, he could not last a day without holding you. He had to make the most of the time he had left with you.

“I want to be close to you tonight,” he mumbled, holding your gaze. “I can pack later.”

“I just don’t want you to be late,” you replied dismissively, because you wanted the same thing as him just as badly.

Joshua smiled in full endearment of your worry. It was not unusual for you to worry about the smallest of things. “Don’t worry, I’ll just throw a few things in there and that’s it,” he shrugged, a knowing look appearing on his face.

You hated that at once, you shook your head. “Joshua, you need to do it right,” you said in a more serious tone, chastising him a little. But when his smile widened, scrunching his nose, you just pushed his shoulder.

“I will, baby,” he reassured, nodding with his head. “But only if you keep kissing me,” he challenged.

You returned the smile. “And if I don’t?”

He shrugged. “I’ll just finish packing and go to sleep,” he said nonchalantly.

You tried holding his gaze, but then your facial features broke into a pout.

“I’m just teasing you, baby,” he giggled, his eyes turning into half moons as he tipped his head back slightly.

You loved the sound of his giggles, sweet and merry. You could not resist yourself, grabbing his face with your hands to plant a kiss on his scrunched nose, catching him off guard. But he recovered quickly, grabbing your waist again to capture your lips with his own, to continue where you left off.

Your hand returned searching for the buttons of his plaid shirt, feeling the curve of his pecs in the process as you undid each button hurriedly, his shirt parting, leaving his chest in sight. Your heartbeat fluttered at the sound of his breathing hitching, and your hands slid beneath the plaid shirt, caressing the bare skin of his chest freely.

His pectorals bulged, and it was hard not to notice them lately. You knew he had been working out consistently as of late, so when your hands cupped his pecs, he bristled.

“Sorry,” you whispered sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” he reassured with a soft smile. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

“Okay,” you breathed out.

Having the green light, your hands explored his chest beneath his shirt, the pads of your thumbs teasing his nipples lightly. You felt his thighs tensing beneath you when you rubbed his nipples gently, cupping and massaging the soft muscle of his pectorals.

Joshua sat up straight, his hands securing you firmly, so you did not lose balance. In a wordless exchange, your hands slid from his chest to his shoulders and down his arms, thus pushing the sleeves of his shirt off him.

Once he was freed from the first piece of clothing on his body, his hands were on you again. Your fingertips grazed his veiny biceps, tracing a line to his collarbones and then cupped his neck, all the while kissing him heatedly, humming slightly on his mouth every time he outlined your lower lip with the tip of his tongue.

“Can I mark you?” you asked with a breathy tone, your fingers trailing down the soft skin of his neck.

Joshua knew why you asked. As his band gained more traction and recognition, their agency had to hire a PR management company, which instructed the Haze boys to be careful with their image.

“No, baby. You can’t,” he replied with a saddened tone. He hated to say no to you. He also hated to have this pristine poster boy front that he did not care for about at all.

“Mn, okay,” you breathed, not giving him the opportunity to see your full reaction, you leaned to kiss him again.

You broke away from the kiss, but rested your forehead on his, slowly littering him with pecks. One hand left the side of his neck, and Joshua tilted his head back to pay attention to the detour your hand was taking. You tucked your hand behind your back, grabbing the lace tying the back of your dress, and unravelling it with one movement.

In a silent sequence, Joshua gathered the long fabric of your dress that you had worn for the occasion by grabbing the skirt in bundles and pulling it up your body. Your hair got ruffled in the process, and you laughed meekly as your fingers removed the strands from your face and tucked them behind your ears.

But Joshua was caught up in the fact that you had been wearing absolutely nothing beneath the dress he had just discarded on the side of the sofa. He took one look at your naked body sitting on top of him, and then his eyes met yours. “Were you wearing nothing beneath that the whole time?”

You nodded with your head meekly, biting your lower lip to hide your smile. “I thought you’d appreciate it,” you shrugged.

Even though you had been together for months now, a blush still painted your cheeks red in utter shyness. From the night he met you, he has seen you naked, due to the nature of your relationship. It was natural for him to see your shyness then, but now, after all these months, he found it endearing.

“You know I do,” he admitted as you leaned over to latch your lips with his. “You know everything you do drives me crazy,” he purred in between kisses.

His hands explored your back, circling over to clutch at the curve of your waist, knowing that would bring your body alight. You pushed your chest to him, muffling a moan in his mouth, something he returned at once when he felt your pebbled nipples on his skin. A hand pressed on your back, squeezing you to his hard body.

Your fingers found his nape, sliding to tangle on the locks of his beautiful dark hair. He dyed it recently with a dark chocolate tone, bringing back the shadow of the man you met when he used to live right next to your apartment. Your fingernails grazed his scalp, bringing out a salacious moan from him.

The sound reverberated against your chest, sending a chill that ran thick through your body. It only egged you on, your fingers trailed down from his nape to his neck, caressing his skin ever so gently.

The delicate touches left tingling sensations in their wake, slowly driving Joshua crazy. His hands clenched the curve of your waist one more time before finding your ass, cupping it with a raspy groan from his part.

You pulled away from his lips with a rich smacking noise. “Not so fast,” you mumbled with a tilt of your head. A confused look shot through the features of his face, making you clarify: “Not until I get your clothes off.”

Joshua understood where you were going right away. His dark, glinting eyes marvelled at the sight of you, face still flushed, naked and on top of him. He nodded, letting you take his wrists and driving his large hands from your ass to your thighs, where they rested instead.

You grabbed his chin with your fingers daintily, leaning over to place a small peck on his lips. “Good boy,” you whispered. “Now let me get you out of those jeans.”

Completely enamored, he just nodded, heart fluttering uneasily in his chest when you flashed him a cute smile. You placed another kiss on the corner of his lips, fingers pinching his chin softly before you carried on with your task.

You raked his torso with the tips of your fingers, making him draw in a breath sharply at the sensation. “I like you so much,” you mumbled with an airy tone, looking at his figure, the curve of his strong shoulders and biceps.

In your admiring his body, you were not aware of his eyes doing the same thing, outlining every inch, every curve of your body on top of his. “You’re so hot,” you added almost aloofly.

“Ditto,” he mumbled, recalling the times you have exchanged a similar expression. He squeezed your thighs gently, bringing your gaze to meet his. There, in his eyes, you saw the love and adoration he felt for you.

You did not resist the urge to kiss him, so you did exactly that by closing the space between your lips.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he mumbled sweetly, the statement bringing a light chuckle out of you, so he emphasized: “The hottest. I fell for you instantly.”

“Did you?” you smiled.

“Absolutely,” he whispered. “All grumpy at me in your bunny pjs,” he enjoyed the meek smile appearing on your face. “The prettiest… and the hottest.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile did not disappear. “Shut up,” you mouthed, the aloofness persisted as you ran your hands on his chest, feeling his pecs up. Then he understood that you were entranced, your eyes lost on his nakedness.

“Make me,” he whispered, a knowing smirk spreading on his beautiful lips.

Your smile turned playful, giving him a chaste kiss. “Bad boy,” you whispered, propping yourself on your knees to scoot back a little and then he felt the tips of your fingers on his lower abdomen, making him draw in another breath.

He looked at your fingers tracing a line over the soft hairs of his happy trail, meeting the band of his boxers peeking beneath his jeans. Then he darted a look at your face, finding out that you were biting your lower lip in excitement and anticipation. Your eyes locked with his briefly, the corners of your lips lifting a little right before you tugged at the button of his jeans free.

Joshua smiled slightly when you gave him a rushed, feathery kiss. “Help me?” you whispered, climbing off him and the couch while hooking your fingers on the band of his boxers. He lifted his hips from his seat, as you pulled both his jeans and boxers down his thighs and got rid of them completely.

But instead of climbing back on top of him, you eased down on your knees between his legs. Joshua noticed your eyes widen slightly as you outlined his body, your hands caressing his meaty thighs. He leaned back on the couch, so his head was resting back as he watched you explore his body with your eyes, with your hands.

Joshua was a beautiful man. As you took in the sheer beauty of his body, bathed by the soft orange glow of the lights, you felt lucky of being his partner.

You caressed his thighs with your hands, as he cupped one of your cheeks, making your eyes fall on his bulging biceps and his well toned pecs, the curve that formed beneath them. A half smile tugged his lips when you licked yours.

You held his gaze for a moment, a fluttering sensation invading you in your tummy. Joshua was ready for you, the features of his face relaxing slightly when your hand circled his shaft. You touched him at first, his soft and veiny skin, pumping him gently from the base of his cock to the head slick with precum.

You spread the precum with the palm of your hand all over his cockhead before moving your fist up and down, enjoying the way his gaze darkened, his mouth parted slightly. His lust-filled eyes were trained on you as you leaned down, pressing your lips on the tip of his cock, kissing him playfully.

Joshua smiled lightly at the sight of you, using his fingers to push your hair away from your face. But the smile faded, just as you took his cockhead inside your mouth, licking his precum, humming slightly in delightfulness at the taste of him.

He released a small grunt through his parted rosy lips, you took him deeper inside your mouth, your hand moving to his base to pump him with gentle strokes at first. You bobbed your head slowly, eyes locked on his face to see him responding to you just how you expected.

Joshua closed his eyes, closing his mouth to breathe in slowly. His hand slid from your cheek to the side of your head to thread his fingers through your hair, following the movements of your head on his cock. “Faster… please, baby,” he mumbled faintly.

You followed suit, picking up the pace. You hollowed out your cheeks as you pulled your mouth up to his cockhead, swirling your tongue on his tip. His body tensed on the couch, his nose scrunching as he groaned, gritting his teeth. “Fuck… yes,” he sighed. “Just like that.”

A fluttering sensation invaded you, chest swelling with pride when you heard his raspy, deep grunts escaping him. His fingers coiled around your hair, and his other hand joined on the other side of your head, helping you move on him as you took him in deeper.

Silence had flooded the room, only interrupted by soft, smacking noises and the deep grunts from Joshua. Occasionally, he would cuss under his breath, but his face remained relaxed, lost in the sight of you taking his cock in your mouth expertly.

Joshua loved watching you like this, he loved that you knew every step to drive him absolutely crazy. It was taking everything in him to stop his hips to thrust forward. However, you read his movements, pausing before attempting to take him ever deeper into your mouth, gagging around him as his cockhead reached your throat.

“Careful, baby,” he cautioned, retaking the control. You followed, pausing for breath before you tried to deepthroat him again. He saw your eyes start to water, and his thumb reached to scoop a tear rolling down your cheek.

It was your eagerness to take him whole what made him tip his head back, his throat bobbing as he swallowed a deep moan. “Fuck,” he breathed, feeling the muscles of your mouth relax and contract around his cock. “You’re taking me so well, baby.”

Your movements slowed down slightly and became smaller now that his cockhead reached your throat, you retreated your head slightly and pushed again, drool dripping down his shaft and onto your fist. You kept pumping him, though languidly, all your focus was on your mouth on his cock.

“Oh god,” he moaned, opening his eyes to the sight of you deepthroating him, sucking him whole. “Fuck, I’m coming,” he rasped.  

But then you stopped, carefully pulling your head back. But the change made your eyes water, you coughed a little, breathing through your nose.

His mouth hung open, frowning in confusion. “Why did you stop?” he asked, watching you wipe the drool from your lips with the back of your hand.

You grinned, climbing back on top of him to place a chaste kiss on his lips. “You’re coming when I want you to,” you mumbled sweetly, booping the tip of his nose with your finger.

“Baby,” he rasped chidingly, elongating the final vowel of his protest. But his large hands welcomed you, grabbing your hips as you straddled him.

You giggled, kissing his protruding lower lip as he pouted at you. “You’re cute,” you teased.

His studded eyebrow jumped slightly; you should have known better than playing with him like this. “You think so?”

You nodded with your head, a satisfying look glinting in your eyes. “The cutest baby boy,” you purred, bringing a hand on his nape before kissing him. Your other hand searched for his throbbing cock, blindly guiding it to your sopping wet pussy.

A deep moan vibrated in your mouth when you sank down on him, pausing yet again but now to savor the slight painful but delicious stretch of his cock in your walls. Joshua groaned, dropping his head on the headrest of the couch, his hands kneading on your thighs as if that helped him resist his orgasm.

“Look at you,” you cooed softly. “You look so good like this,” you added, toeing between mocking him and appreciating the sweet features of his face riddled by pleasure.

Joshua gulped hard. His gaze, darkened by lust outlined the features of your face as you rolled your hips on his cock. He could not lie, he loved when you took control, he loved to see you grow confident on top of him.

But with one, sudden movement, he thrusted you onto the cushions of the couch. The non-existent heed for your body made you yelp in surprise. He propped himself on his knees, grabbing the back of yours to press your thighs onto your chest.

“Joshua–,” you tried protesting, your face broken in utter confusion when in seconds, he had torn through your dominance like ripping through a piece of paper.

You braced yourself before it happened. Joshua brought down his hand on your exposed cunt, slapping it firmly. Both excitement and pain shot through your body, making you cry out a loud moan that sounded lewder than anything.

Joshua heard the rawness in your moan and understood right away that you had liked it. He tilted his head to one side, smirking as he asked: “Want more?”

You nodded, a glazed look in your eyes before you closed them briefly. Joshua brought his hand down again, right on your sensitive clit, noticing your arousal smeared on the pads of his fingers. He pushed his fingers between your wet folds, to rub circles on your swollen nub.

You flinched when his hand slapped your cunt, but the sound coming out of your mouth did not convey pain. Your face scrunched up in pleasure, your eyebrows knitted, and glossy lips puckered. “More.”

Joshua stopped rubbing your clit with his fingers, raising his hand once more to bring it down with a harsher slap, enjoying the whiny sound tearing through you. He continued to rub your cunt, getting unbearably harder when he noticed the arousal pooling in your entrance. “Filthy girl,” he whispered, a smirk playing in his lips.

“More,” you demanded, your tone dropping to a question.

But Joshua had removed his hand from your throbbing pussy, his fingers encircling around his shaft, pumping it to smear your wetness all over himself. “You’ll take what I give you.”

He then placed a hand on the arm rest above your head, lowering himself on your body as his hand grabbing his hard cock drove it to your entrance, easing himself inside you in one go, filling you up to the point of bringing you to tears.

An airy moan escaped you, and it was not only because his weight was on top of your legs, crushing your chest almost. It was also feeling his girthy cock stretching your pussy, reaching a spot inside you that had your walls clenching around him.

“F-fuck,” you gritted, pushing your head back onto the cushions of the couch. “Joshua,” you whimpered, grabbing his shoulder with one hand. “S-so deep.”

Tears spilled when you blinked, bringing out a wolfish grin from him. “Who’s cute now,” he purred, starting to slam his hips against you with a fast, near animalistic pace. As much as he loved seeing you try your hand at domming him, he loved even more to be the one in charge.

The depth of his hard thrusts became addictive, like fire consuming you rapidly. You writhed beneath him; the tip of his cock reaching a glorious spot inside you every time he slammed his hips against yours.

“Oh god, Josh…” you said between deep breaths. “I’m coming.”

Joshua smiled like this was a game that he just won. But he nodded, kissing the inner side of your knee. He revelled at the sight of you like this: you were crying, stirring, and whining loudly as your orgasm washed over you, making your walls clamp erratically around his cock.

But he kept thrusting inside you, loving the wet sounds that came from your pussy, the way your moans turned airy and raspy. Your eyes had rolled back, your mouth fell open, and he committed to memorize that image of you.

“Joshua… Joshua…” you whimpered, over and over until you were completely breathless.

He eased one of your legs from your chest, wordlessly commanding you to wrap it around his waist, lowering his hips on you, burying his cock deep inside you again. You moaned languidly; eyes closed as you savored the gentle aftershocks of your orgasm.

Joshua was lost in you. In the midst of it all, the faint reminder that this was your last night together in some weeks made his heart clench. He leaned his head down to press his lips on your forehead, the tip of your nose and your lips.

“I love you,” he whispered, unable to bring his voice any louder.

You hummed in response, opening your eyes to see his face. “I love you, Joshua,” you responded, cupping his cheek with one hand to kiss him deeply.

Joshua rested his forehead on yours, sliding a hand under your nape, his fingers tangling in your hair. He retook the brutal pace of his thrusts, feeling your mouth fall open and he blindly mimicked you. Now you were breathing on each other’s mouths, moaning in unison.

Your hands circled his back, holding onto him for dear life as his thrusts knocked the air out of your lungs. “Baby, don’t,” Joshua rasped when your fingernails started digging on the soft skin of his back, bringing out a raw moan from him. “Oh, you fucking brat,” he groaned in both pain and pleasure as you dragged your fingernails down his back, piercing his skin.

You giggled impishly, and he responded with a grin. You removed a hand from his back, cupping his cheek to pull him into a hot, sloppy kiss. He groaned in your mouth, egging you to kiss the underside of his jaw, the curve of his neck, his throat.

“Fuck,” he whispered when you suckled the sensitive spot on his neck you liked so much. But he did not protest or stop your rebellious marking of his neck and back.

You brought his lips back to yours, kissing him chastely. “A little reminder,” you whispered. “So that everyone knows you’re mine,” you traced a circle with the tip of your finger around the marked spot on his neck.

Joshua moaned, pushing his hips desperately against you. “Leave more,” he gasped. “Mark me,” he whispered out his plea to you, turning his head so you could have an easy access to his neck.

The thought of you being possessive over him drove him crazy, pushing him to lose control on top of you. He rolled his hips against you, moaning salaciously as you marked him up from his collarbone to his throat.

“Fuck, baby. Ah. God, fuck,” he squeezed his eyes, scrunching his nose as his thrusts became sloppy. “I’m coming,” he whispered, dropping his head on your shoulder. He moaned repeatedly, fucking his cum deep into your walls.

He pressed his body on yours gently. You wrapped your legs around him as you both regained energies, enjoying each other’s warmth.

You brought a hand to caress his nape, your fingers threading gently his hair. His face was still nuzzled in the curve of your neck, breathing raggedly on your skin. Then he moved his head and rested it on your chest, humming tiredly but relishing in the gentleness of your touch.

Your hand slid from his nape, now caressing gently over the scratch marks you left. A lazy smile drew on your face when you ran your fingertips over the bumpy lines along the line of his back.

Joshua heard you smile, lifting his head to press your lips with his own in a tender way. “Bad girl,” he whispered playfully. “You’re gonna get me in trouble.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? I didn’t see a lot of resistance from your part,” you teased.

“How could I resist? You have a very effective method of persuasion,” he smirked, nose wrinkling when you chuckled.

“Do I now? Since when?” 

“Since forever,” he rolled his eyes, laughing at the way your voice raised higher. “And you’ve known it since day one.”

“Mm, I don’t think I did,” you mumbled with a sing-song tone. You did that whenever you flirted with him.

Joshua gave you a sweet smile, one of those that melted your heart. “No? Well, you’ve had me wrapped around your finger ever since.”

Your face took on a more serious look, your gaze fell on his lips. You wished to make this moment longer, to postpone his departure. A dark part inside you, one dominated by greed, wanted to ask him to stay with you.

“I love you,” you whispered, searching his eyes again. You tried to convey with those simple words that you were going to miss him, that you wanted to stay with him in this moment forever.

Joshua read your face, noticing that your mood had dropped a little. “I love you,” he replied, thinking of what to say.

And then, a loud knock came to the door.

You jerked in alarm beneath him, drawing in a sharp breath. “Oh god,” you whispered, stretching your neck to look at the door.

But Joshua did not move.

“Josh, someone’s at the door,” you whispered, your body recoiling again when the knock became louder.

“Pretend we’re not in,” he mumbled, nestling his head on your shoulder again.

You turned to look at him in utter disbelief. “Babe,” you tried to move him with one hand. “Move so that I can see who is knocking.”

“But we’re not in,” he did not move an inch.

But whoever was at the other side of the door was not quitting either, knocking once more with urgency.

Joshua groaned in complete annoyance, pushing his body up with his hands, peeling himself off you. “Wait here,” he commanded, a hand reaching for the blanket on the arm rest and draping it over your body.

You watched him curiously as he put on his boxers and walked up to the door, yanking it open and peering out to the hall. Holding the blanket to your chest, you propped your elbow on the cushions of the couch, trying to get what was happening on the exchange.

Joshua appeared to nod his head, stepping closer to the doorframe as if to cover the interior to the apartment to the eyes of whoever was standing in front of him. He nodded once more, lifting a hand to receive something and closed the door with a sharp move.

He rolled his eyes, exhaling softly as he discarded a piece of paper on the table, walking back to you.

“Who was that?” you asked upon seeing his face scrunched up in annoyance.

“We just got a noise complaint,” he announced. “Another one.”

Your heart dropped. “Why?” you demanded, trying to sit up on the couch but you stopped yourself with a horrified expression: “We can’t have more than two, we’ll get an eviction notice.”

“I know, I know,” he muttered softly, sitting next to you on the edge of the couch. “Relax, baby. We could look for another apartment somewhere else,” he shrugged with ease, but you could tell he was still annoyed.

You gaped at him. “What?” you uttered.

“By the looks of it, they want us out of here,” he explained solemnly.

“Why do you say that?”

“They had a noise complaint printed and ready to deliver it,” he exhaled, pushing his hair back with one hand. “Seems like they were waiting for the perfect moment to do it.”

You eased back, sighing with him. “God,” you frowned. “Well, I don’t like that. We weren’t being loud!”

Joshua arched one eyebrow at your protest.

“Not like other times,” you mumbled sheepishly, but your eyes wandered into the nothingness. Your mind had started to fly through all the possible routes of action.

“Hey,” he mumbled, yanking you away from your thoughts. “It’s okay. We could start looking for an even nicer place, with bigger rooms…” he said, his tone fading off.

“Mmn, yeah,” you replied, not noticing that he had thought of something else.

But he recovered swiftly, patting your tummy gently. “Let’s not think about it right now, yeah?” he suggested, giving you a soft smile. “Let me take care of you.”

He rose to his feet, pushing the blanket off and with great ease, he scooped you from the couch, carrying you in his arms bridal style. You squealed in surprise, but you welcomed the nice act, smiling at him softly.

In the shower, he noticed your dreamy eyes on him. “I wonder,” you asked, bringing a finger to connect the marked spots on his neck and collarbones.

“What?” he asked, finishing to rinse the shampoo from his deep brown hair.

“What your fans might will say about these,” you mumbled, finishing the trail of connected lovebites, the last one sitting bellow his collarbone.

“There’s already a lot of speculation,” he said, grabbing your finger from his chest to kiss the pad.

“Oh? What is it about?”

Joshua shrugged with ease. “It’s mostly a debate between people that think that I have a partner and people that think that I’m a serial fuckboy.”

You snorted at the last bit of the sentence.

“Is that funny?” his studded eyebrow twitched slightly.

“A little,” you mumbled, slipping your arms around his neck. “Serial fuckboy,” you teased with a grin. “If they only knew.”

He rolled his eyes at your teasing. He closed the water tap, being so that you both had finished cleaning up. His hands circled your waist, keeping a hand flatly pressed on your lower back. “They’ll go crazy with their speculations when they see these,” he pointed with his nose to his chest.

“That just comes with the job, right?” you mused, looking at him almost dazedly.

He leaned his face to yours, water dripping down his forehead and the tip of his nose. “I just don’t want them to snoop on what we have together,” he shrugged lightly.

“What if that happens?” you asked on a more serious tone.

His beautiful dark eyes read your face intently, but he just shook his head lightly, placing a kiss on your forehead. “It won’t happen,” he said, his tone lace with promise.

Then he removed his arms from your body, reaching behind you to grab your bathrobe, offering it to you. “You’re pretty sure of that,” you observed as he helped you put the robe on.

“What are you thinking? Do you want to plan?” he offered, darting a look to your face.

You could tell that the topic of conversation made him uncomfortable. He didn't like the idea of the world knowing about you and, quite possibly, ruining your writing career, in which anonymity was a major part.

“I just think that I want to be ready if they find out about our relationship,” you said nonchalantly, exiting the shower and went ahead to towel dry your hair. “If it comes to it, we can handle it. Who knows, maybe it won’t be that bad,” you suggested offhandedly, walking out of the bathroom.

Joshua followed you to the bedroom after wiping himself with his towel. “Wait, you’re not worried about your anonymity?”

“I don’t know, Josh,” you sighed, sitting down on the foot of the bed. You clasped your hands on your towel, pausing pensively. “I think that it’s best if we’re prepared.”

Joshua walked up to you slowly, making your eyes swivel from the wall of the room to meet his gaze. “Why don’t we leave the plans for another night, mn?” he suggested, bringing a hand to your cheek, cupping it briefly.

You nodded, taking in a deep breath. “Alright,” you said.

He pulled a pair of clean boxers up to his waist and turn around to continue packing his bags. You noticed he did this in a near mechanical way, by grabbing the clothes that were already folded from the closet. You drew your legs in and hugged them as you continued to see him finish packing the first of his suitcases.

As Joshua turned to continue with his task, it was then when you noticed his back, red with the marks you left with your fingernails, some of the scratches looked thicker than others. “Oh my god, I marked you up so bad,” you giggled shamefully, bringing a hand to cover your face.

Joshua gave you a confused look, but then he understood. “Is it that bad?” he walked over to the full body mirror you had on one corner of the bedroom, turning to peek to his marked up back.

His eyes fell on you, sitting cross-legged on the bed, one hand covering your face in complete shame. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

“It’s not bad, baby,” he decided, turning around to take a few steps toward the foot of the bed where you still sat.

He planted a knee on the edge of the bed, followed by his hands at the same time you laid back, moving your legs for him to slot his body between them.

“I kind of like it,” he said, pressing his lips on the tip of your nose. “I like it when you act all possessive over me,” he smirked. “And I remembered that you have a thing for pain during sex.”

You let out a muffled sigh. “Josh! I don’t think I do,” you countered, but your tone sounded so insecure that it had you smiling shamefully.

“Mn, you bratty little thing, did you like to inflict pain on me?” he purred, enjoying the flustered look on your face. He did not wait for your answer, because he already knew it. “If it makes you feel better, I liked it too.”

“Why don’t we do it more often?” you pried, sneaking a look at his eyes that had your tummy clenching in nervousness.

Joshua had to pause for a second to gather his thoughts. “It’s not the thing that I’m more inclined to do,” he said pensively, his eyelids hooded to look at your face. “And also, I still don’t know how far I can take you.”

“Well then we should try it one day and see,” you offered him a meek smile.

“If you want to, baby,” he whispered, planting a light kiss on the tip of your nose. “Let’s add it to the list.”

Okay, you breathed, noticing the heavy-lidded eyes starting to look drowsy, even his speech had started to become slow and slurry. “Let’s go to bed?” you offered.

Joshua nodded his head slowly. “Let’s go to bed,” he accepted.

You moved on the bed until you reached the fluffy pillows. Scurrying beneath the covers you patiently waited for your boyfriend to occupy his space in your bed. You watched him get beneath the bed sheets beside you, a soft smile drawing on his face when you scooted to him at once.

You had four hours until he had to go to the airport. You saw his phone screen lit up, showing the picture he had of you as his wallpaper. He made no note of your eyes shifting from his phone to his face, he was deep in thought.

“Nervous?” you whispered.

He nodded again, much as if it were sinking within him that these were his last hours of normalcy before he was launched back into the wild-paced life that is being a rockstar.

“You’re going to do great, baby,” you said with a reassuring tone. “I’ll be here cheering you on, watching you.”

A warm feeling poured over his heart. “Once I learn when I have a break, I’ll come see you,” he promised, the feeling in his heart making his tone quiver. “Or I’ll fly you in wherever I’m at.”

Joshua hated how repetitive he sounded. He said this right before he left for his first tour. And you wondered, inevitably, if this time would be different.

“Take things easy,” you mumbled, your speech had started to sound languid too, dragging the words. “I don’t want you to stress yourself over things you can’t control, Joshua. And those you can, take them one at a time.”

Your boyfriend had to pause and let your words take form inside his mind. When he knew what you meant, he nodded. “I’m trying,” he said faintly. He knew you meant well. He did. But he could not help but feel a deep wave of shame wash over him. “I’m trying to get better at this.”

Your eyes dropped. “I know, babe, that’s not what I meant,” you tried to justify, but it was too late. “I–I just mean–I don’t want you to stress yourself too much.” 

He pushed the feeling deep down and nodded. “I won’t, baby. Don’t worry,” he breathed out the words. He shifted under the covers and onto his back. “Come over here,” he motioned you to his chest, and you lied your head on his heart.

You felt his hand searched for yours, and you instinctively held his fingers. He brought your hand to his lips, kissing the tips of your fingers one by one to then kiss your knuckles.

You raised your head a little, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I love you,” you mumbled, drawing his gaze from the darkness to yours.

“I love you,” he mumbled back, pressing your lips with a featherlight kiss. “So much,” he emphasized.

It broke your heart to hold back your true feelings about him leaving. Joshua already looked sad. As though he were mere minutes to leave, not hours. You lied back on his chest, his heartbeat strumming under your ear, bringing you to a quick sleep without you even knowing.

Joshua did not want to leave either. And that thought he carried onto his dreams.

His sleep was interrupted abruptly. A tight feeling trying to choke him was what drove him to snap his eyes open. As his mind gained some lucidity, the bits and pieces of his dream stung his eyes, the tight feeling coiling in his chest giving way to a broken sob.

“Joshua?” you raised your head right away, bringing a hand to touch his cheek. “What’s wrong? Babe?”

It took him some time to realize that he could not move, fear set in instantly, but he held onto the touch of your hands, and the sound of your voice calling his name. First, he blinked the tears away, letting them go unwillingly but his eyes found you, then his hands.

“Joshua, answer me,” he heard you plead, the worry in your tone palpable.

“I’m okay,” he rasped, gulping hard before reassuring, more to himself than to you: “I’m okay.”

“Tell me what’s going on,” you said, not buying his words.

Joshua frowned before he could even understand what you were demanding. He closed his eyes briefly, his eyelids trembled over the tears that threatened to brim in. Fragments of what he saw last flooded his mind and he shook his head, remembering nothing.

“I think it was just a bad dream, baby,” he reassured. But the broken feeling in his chest persisted.

Your thumb caressed his cheek. “You can talk to me,” you mumbled, and when his eyes found your face again, he saw the worry he had heard in your tone.

“I don’t remember anything,” he swore, and he saw your eyes dim. “Let’s go back to sleep.”

You nodded, placing your head back on his chest. Your hand lowered from his cheek, caressing his bare chest.

Joshua heard you release a sigh, and then your body eased back on top of him. The caress of your hand ceased slowly, and then he knew that you had fallen asleep again.

It would not be long before he came back. He would go away from some weeks, then he would come back and leave again; he would have opportunities to come back home to you. To sleeping next to you. Being with you.

But the prospect of not having this frightened him. Joshua had not only fallen in love with you, but with the tiny, quiet life he had by your side. He just had to learn to find the balance between this life he was so in love with and the life he had worked so hard to achieve.

Joshua woke up again to the sound of his alarm, jolting at the frantic stammering of his heart, his fist instinct was to reach for his phone and shut the beeping alarm off.

His arms encircled you again, it seemed as though you had not changed positions, your head was still lying on his chest. You inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of his skin, humming sweetly as his hand found a way beneath your t-shirt, caressing your back.

Not a word was spoken. But there was an unmistakable feeling lingering in the air that you both tried to push away. Joshua met your cheek with his hand, at the same time that you craned your neck to find his lips with your own.

You brushed his hair back with your hand, a low moan coiling in the back of your throat when he wrapped you with one arm, effortlessly pulling your body on top so your front was fully flushed with his.

His hand moved from your cheek to meet the curve of your waist, sliding down to grip your hips from both sides while you moved your knees on each of his sides, straddling him. Your hands cupped his beautiful face, deepening the slow and sloppy kiss.

Both of you hummed at the same time, Joshua’s low, raspy tone only caused you to sit harder on his lower tummy. His hands helped you move down on him, now pressing your crotch to his, swallowing a moan as your tongue outlined his lower lip.

“Josh, we don’t have time for this,” you whispered, a tiny giggle making your words quiver. “We’ll be late.”

“I don’t care,” he responded gruffly, his hand was already searching for your panties, pushing them aside with one finger as you lifted your hips.

Your hand pushed his boxers down, grabbing his cock by the thick shaft. You rolled your hand once, pumping him a couple of times before easing yourself down on him. A strangled moan came out of you once you bottomed out on him.

“Alright?” he whispered, hearing your groan, and recognizing that it was not entirely from pleasure.

“It’s okay,” you replied, bending over to rest your forehead on his. “I’m just a bit sore from last night, that’s all.”

“We can stop,” he offered, his hands tightening their grip on your hips.

You shook your head. “Just give me a minute,” you mumbled shakily.

Joshua nodded slightly. “Kiss me,” he whispered, moving his hand from your hip to your cheek, bringing your lips to his own.

He moaned as your walls tensed and loosened around his cock, your warmth covering him down to his hilt as your arousal started to drip down. Just to feel him hard and buried deep inside you turned you on so badly you kissed him harder, making him moan.

“You don’t have to move,” he rasped when he felt your hips swaying up and down. “We can stay like this.”

“I want to feel you,” you responded quietly, rolling your hips with a fuller motion. You joined your lips with his, slowly deepening the kiss.

Joshua moaned, letting himself be swallowed by your warmth and love, trying to memorize to heart what it feels like being yours. To be loved by you. He closed his eyes tightly, breathing out the euphoric feeling gripping him wholly.

You pulled back for air, your lips making a soft smacking noise when you broke the kiss. “I love you, Joshua,” you breathed, burying your fingers in his mane of dark hair.

“I love you too,” he responded, his voice thickening with emotion. “You can’t imagine how much.”

Even though it was early in the morning, the airport was busy. As you climbed out of the car, you noticed Joshua’s anxiety kicking in. The posture of his body changed, and his gaze seemed to darken, and it was not only because of the hairs of his fringe tangling with his eyelashes. It was the way he looked around, probably making sure that the coast was clear.

Joshua did this lately. After he made sure that no one had known of his whereabouts, he extended a hand for you to hold. And when you did, he laced his long fingers with yours, pulling you closer as though he did not want you to get caught in the sea of people.

“Do you see Hannie?” he asked quietly beside you, adjusting the mask covering his mouth and squaring his shoulders to shift the backpack hanging on his shoulders.

You shook your head no. In fact, you had not started looking for him until your boyfriend suggested the idea for you.

Finding Jeonghan was quick. And easy. “There,” you squeezed Joshua’s hand with yours and nodded to the man perched on a massage chair.

Jeonghan’s head was lolling to one side languidly, his chest and shoulders shaking as the massage chair worked on his back. Joshua spotted the man as soon as you pointed and changed courses to meet up to him.

“Hey,” Joshua gently budged his shoulder, freeing the handle of his suitcase to do so.

Jeonghan opened his eyes, raising his head to peer under his baseball cap. “Oh, Joshuji,” he giggled awkwardly when his voice vibrated too. “There you are, you two. You’re late.”

“Yeah, you don’t say,” Joshua mumbled dismissively. “Let’s go, Hannie,” he urged the man, budging him another time but firmer, chuckling as he did so.

“Can’t you wait until this thing finishes?” he nagged, but then surrendered quickly when Joshua used his hand again to slap his shoulder. “Ah! Fine, okay,” he sighed, rising to his feet in front of you. “Hi, baby,” he muttered warmly.

“Hi, Jeongjeong,” you smiled at him, seeing his face made your tummy flutter uneasily. His eyes found yours, right before he planted a peck on your lips. His hand brushed your arm gently before he placed one peck on the tip of your nose.

The fluttering feeling intensified, making your breathing ragged. Your eyes shifted to your surroundings, thinking that people would find it weird that you were kissing one man while holding the hand of another man.

But you found out that no one was paying attention to you.

“Come on,” Joshua squeezed your hand gently.

“Okay,” Jeonghan conceded, following you when Joshua pulled you to his direction as he strode to do check his bags. Where you stayed back with Jeonghan as you both waited for Joshua.

“You’re okay, princess?” Jeonghan asked quietly, standing with his arms crossed and closely behind you.

You turned to see his eyes, partly covered by his cap. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you replied flatly, but your lie was made obvious by the way you quickly yanked your gaze from his face. “You know,” you sighed. “I don’t want to say goodbye.”

“Well, it’ll just be a few weeks,” he said in a consoling tone. “And we are going to visit him, we’ll watch him play for the biggest venues, it’ll be fine.”

You searched his eyes one more time. The confidence and reassurance he offered you never failed to do their work.

And he also never failed to read you perfectly well. “It’s not that what’s got you anxious, is it?” he mumbled with a lower tone.

You swallowed your words.

“What happened to trusting him?” he mused, the slightest of smirks playing on his lips. “When did that fly out the window?”

“I’m just overthinking,” you brushed off, sending a glance towards your boyfriend and felt guilty. “I didn’t like doing long distance the first time he went away.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “Again, baby. It’ll be just a few weeks,” he leaned his head to his shoulder, looking at you with gentle eyes. “Don’t be afraid. Let’s just trust him, okay?”

Joshua was walking back to you and Jeonghan, you knew by the look on his face that he needed to go. “The boys are at the gates already,” he mentioned, sighing with heavy reluctance, and looked to you. “I have to go now.”

You nodded, but you could not stop the remorse gripping your heart. “Yeah, okay,” you forced out.

Joshua scanned the features of your face briefly before turning to Jeonghan. They exchanged a meaningful look, making you wish for the nth time to tap into the wavelength they jealously kept to themselves. But you kept your eyes on them as Joshua extended a hand for Jeonghan to clasp firmly.

Joshua pulled him into a hug. “Ah, okay,” Jeonghan muttered with an air of awkwardness, being caught by surprise. “I’ll miss you too, Joshuji,” he coughed up a chuckle.

“Take care, Jeonghannie,” Joshua brought up his hand to pat on his best friend’s head, and something told you this used to be a normal exchange between them.

“Yeah, you too,” Jeonghan darted a look to your face. “Keep in touch, yeah? Don’t be a stranger.”

It was then that you felt some semblance of reassurance. You could feel your own distractions dissipating as soon as you saw the two men you love hugging each other. Joshua was trying to change, so you had to let go of your fears too.

“Course,” Joshua muttered as he stepped back, a weary look in his eyes as these searched you one more time.

You reached out to him just as his arms wrapped you in, once your chest was tightly pressed against his, you let out a tiny sob.

“No, baby, don’t cry, please,” he muttered, turning his face so he could press a kiss on the crown of your head.

You took a big gulp of air to calm your sobs. “I’ll miss you, Josh,” you told him, tightening your arms around his torso.

“I’ll miss you too, baby,” he replied with a strained voice. As soon as he heard your sobs, the sharp feeling returned to grip his heart. “I’ll call you. Every day.”

“Please,” you whispered shakily, moving your face to meet his.

The feeling coiled around his heart tighter when he saw your teary eyes, but you kept yourself steady and strong as you locked eyes with him. Your plea to him was clear, and he nodded to you.

“I promise,” he whispered back, leaning down to press his lips in your forehead.

You grabbed his face with your hands, giving him a quick kiss. “I love you,” you mumbled meekly.

Joshua sighed, smiling at the shyness you displayed. “Kiss me properly,” he giggled into your mouth before slotting his lips between yours.

A warm tingling feeling invaded you, lingering beneath your hot cheeks. The kiss deepened, and even if you were aware of Jeonghan’s eyes on both you and Joshua, you let yourself ease into the kiss, moving your lips on his in a seamless dance.

“I love you,” he mumbled with a sweet smile, leaning to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.

And with that, Joshua released you from his embrace, patting Jeonghan’s shoulder right before turning to walk towards the gates, where he joined the mass of people and eventually disappeared.

Joshua was gone again.

The ride back home was a strong reminiscent of the first time Joshua left on tour.

The sun was rising, the wet pavement was shimmering with the sunlight and from the rain that washed overnight. The windows of the car were covered with a light layer of mist, you rubbed your hands together, trying to warm them up a little.

You lifted one finger and drew a smiley face on the car window.

“Oi,” Jeonghan jolted you awake. “No drawing on the windows!” he berated you playfully.

You added some rays around the face, turning it into a smiley sun.

“Ah, you little…” he giggled, sliding a hand on your thigh. “So, have you decided what you want for breakfast?”

You shook your head, gaze falling on Jeonghan’s hand parked on your thigh. “I just want to go home.”

“Okay, home it is then,” he mumbled sweetly.

You paused for a second. “I do want blueberry muffins, though.”

“Ah, alright,” he giggled, patting your thigh gently. “Let’s go get muffins, baby.”

You knew that Jeonghan had commenced his plan to distract you from the emptiness of going back to an empty apartment. When you got there, and saw the table cluttered with the stuff from the dinner of the night before, it was not as painful as you thought it would be.

Jeonghan kept quiet at first, helping you remove the cups of wine and taking them to the sink. The glances he sent to check on you continued until he decided you were alright, that your silence was not because you felt sad, and although you did, it was merely because you were going to miss Joshua.

“Do you want coffee?” Jeonghan, his soft voice breaking through the barriers of your mind.

“I’d love that,” you replied, offering him a reassuring smile.

You followed him to the kitchen, putting the rest of the plates in the sink. “Leave that there,” Jeonghan muttered as you reached for the scrub. “I’ll do the dishes.”

“You don’t have to, Hannie,” you said, noticing that he was trying to accommodate to your gloomy mood and do nice things for you.

“But I want to,” he shrugged, but then you saw a light smirk lifting the corners of his pretty lips. “You do the breakfast, though. It’s your turn,” he said, finishing with a broader smile.

“Pff, okay,” you huffed, a smile appearing on your face.

Jeonghan’s eyes lit up, outlining the features of your face swiftly. “And then maybe we could watch a movie,” he offered, trying to hold your gaze for as long as he could. “But then I have to go to work.”

You raised your eyes to his. And he noticed the question written in your face.

“Wanna come with?”

You nodded with your head silently.

“Okay, then,” he breathed in, pressing the button on the coffee maker on. Then he busied himself with doing the dishes, swiftly looking your way as you prepared two omelettes.

A shy smile crept on your face, being scrutinized by his sweet brown eyes just made you feel uneasy. Jeonghan noticed, moving to stand behind you so you would not feel his gaze on you, but then he did matters worse. His arms encircled your waist, hugging you from behind, his chest pressed to your back.

“What?” he asked when you lowered your head, smiling when he pressed a kiss on your shoulder.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, squirming slightly when his breath fanned your nape. “You make me nervous.”

“Why?” he whispered, he looked at your eyes, then your lips.

“I like you,” you replied in kind. You thought it was obvious.

The way his eyes lit up made your stomach flutter with butterflies. “I like you more, princess,” he said, his low tone quivering.

Your cheeks tingled, making you focus back on the stove and served two plates almost in a methodical way. “Do you think it’s strange?” you pried. “That I want to be with two people at once?”

“You know I don’t think so,” he replied matter-of-factly. “If the real question is, do I think people would find it strange, then yes.”

You coughed up a chuckle. “That’s helpful,” you scoffed, but you could not ignore that it had deflated you a little.

“But they’re not us,” you felt him shrug behind you. “What matters is what happens between Joshua, you and me, right?”

“What do you think?”

Jeonghan pondered for a second. He stopped hugging you and took the plates from the counter, turning to set them on the table. "Sit," he nodded to the chair before turning back to grab the two cups of coffee.

You sat down as Jeonghan set a cup down on the table for you and then himself. He then dropped himself into the seat next to you, a hand flipping the visor of baseball cap.

The tips of his ears poked out; his hair tucked behind them. You instinctively reached out to push some lose hairs behind his ear, drawing his heavy lashed eyes to yours.

A small smile appeared on his face as he caught your hand, pressing his lips to the pads of your fingers. Your stomach dropped in nervousness.

“So?”

“I don’t think it’s weird that you want to be with Joshua and me at the same time,” he said, sinking his fork into the omelette. As he chewed on his food, he lifted his gaze to the ceiling, appearing to be formulating his sentence: “I think we haven’t talked about the… more complicated aspects of dating two people at the same time. At least not the three of us.”

“Oh, so you have. You and Joshua?” you raised your eyebrows.

He nodded. “I asked him if he was sure about all of this,” his lips pouted as he chewed.

“What did he say?” you asked slowly.

“Eat,” he motioned to your untouched food, noticing that you were so caught up with the conversation that you forgot to eat your omelette. “I asked why he agreed to this, since he’s the most jealous guy I’ve ever known,” he shrugged, pausing with the piece of omelette in front of his mouth. “He says he doesn’t know why, but he wants this. You know?”

You nodded, chewing on your food.

“But I think we need to have this conversation again, the three of us when he comes back,” he continued, much as if his thoughts had organized neatly in his head. “Because I’m new to this, sometimes I feel like I’m catching up to the two of you.”

“I’m new to this too,” you frowned.

“I mean that I’m sort of… joining the two of you. Joshua and you already have an established relationship,” his eyes flitted around the room. From the two large noise amps that sat on the corner of the living room, to the table beside the dining table covered in photo frames of shots of you and Joshua. His eyes glanced at the shoe rack by the front door, filled with your and Joshua’s shoes before resting on you once more. “I just got to the party.”

You smiled at the way he conceptualized the polycule you have arranged. You set your elbow on the table, resting your head on your fist. “Well, we have time to bring you up to speed,” you smirked at him.

That seemed to catch his attention. His eyebrow quirked up. “Mm, I like to hear that,” he smirked back at you. He looked at your other hand resting on the table and did not hesitate to take it in his, his fingers playing with yours. “When do we start?”

“Today,” you giggled when you did not skip a beat to give him your answer. “You need to get ready because you're going to speed through this, old man.”

Jeonghan laughed, the sound of his chuckles warming your heart. “Oh yeah?” he arched an eyebrow. “What are we going to speed through today?”

“I don’t know what the steps are,” you admitted. “Joshua and I kind of flew through the steps to having conventional a relationship.”

“And I just got here to make it even more unconventional?” he added, smirking playfully.

“Or to make it more fun,” you quipped but then you shook your head. “I don’t know. You could take me out on a fancy dinner. Give me a reason to dress up.”

“Is that step number one?” he asked, enjoying your playful back and forth.

“Oh, no, you’re in like step number five already,” you quipped with a light chuckle.

“Ah, yeah?” he raised his eyebrows. “When did I climb the other four steps?”

You held up a hand and showed him your pointer finger, signaling a number one. “We hold hands,” you held up another finger, signaling number two. “We’ve kissed, multiple times. Three, we’ve slept together, four we’ve had sex–,”

“Multiple times,” he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you’re right. What’s next?”

You shrugged. “You tell me,” taking a big gulp from your cup of coffee.

“I’d like you to meet my friends,” he said, giving you a meaningful look.

Jeonghan gave a lot of importance to his friendships. You knew that even before you met him, since Joshua told you about him, about him being his greatest confidant. So, meeting his friends meant a lot to him.

Your ears perked up at this. “Oh, your friends from work?” you asked, and he nodded with his head meekly. “Let’s do it. I’d love that.”

“Nice,” he smiled with satisfaction. “Step number five.”

“You’re gonna grow bored,” he commented off-handedly as he held the door open for you.

“That’s why I brought a book with me,” you replied with a sing-song tone. “I don’t really know what you do for your job, so I probably will be paying attention to you.”

“That’s not…” he sighed and dropped his gaze to the ground, smiling shyly. He took your hand, looking at your fingers as you laced them with his.

You laughed in nervousness at your own bad attempts at flirting.

Jeonghan lead you through the establishment. You had been here before, but everything you remembered about the place was a blur. That time you were distraught, your mind was cluttered with thoughts about your big argument with Joshua, and your feelings for Jeonghan.

The interior of the place was beautiful, it struck you along with its quietness. As you followed Jeonghan through its cold halls, you marvelled at the walls decorated with large posters of their most successful plays.

“This way,” Jeonghan whispered, not really noticing that you saw his name plastered on one of the posters. He opened a door to you, showing you to the room that extended bellow you in rows of seats, and large steps that lead to the big stage. “Come on.”

The stage was not vacant, as you initially had expected. A group of people sat in a circle, and some were practicing a choreography in the background, a couple of men pushing a large stage prop to one corner.

It was so packed in fact that no one noticed you and Jeonghan coming in. “Wait here,” he mumbled, showing you to one seat in the front row.

You watched as Jeonghan paced towards the stage, rolling the sleeves of his hoodie up to his elbows. Something encircling his wrist caught your eye, just as he grabbed it to toy with it. It was your scrunchie, and it had been so long since you had seen it that it brought a smile to your face.

You sat down on the seat, closely following Jeonghan. He put himself to work at once, he was handed a tablet and people approached him, you saw him nod and shake his head, then he pointed at the stage lights.

He nodded to the person he was speaking to and seemingly came to an agreement. Then he turned, looking at the tablet in his hands as he approached your seat in the front row.

“Bored yet?” he asked, seating himself beside you.

“The opposite,” you grinned. “What are you doing?”

He lowered the tablet on his thigh. “Just doing a general revision before this rehearsal. We’re closer to putting this show together. These are the final days before the opening show,” he motioned to the table sitting on his lap. “And here I can see which are the scenes we’re going to rehearse, and I know what to oversee.”

You moved your head up and down, slowly. “Interesting,” you noted. “And what scene are we rehearsing today?”

Jeonghan leaned to your side, looking at the screen. “At the gates of Emerald city,” he recited the title scene with a pleased tone. “So, lightings, costume changes, the song, and choreography. Easy.”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Easy, eh?” you mumbled.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth pensively. “I just have to make sure that everything’s going smoothly, you know?” he smirked. “Imagine I’m the teacher and the class are showing me their homework.”

You laughed, and that brought a big smile to his face. “And that’s all you do?”

“I get the playwright, the writers, the cast, the crew, and the budget,” he listed with a straight face, but you saw the cunning in his eyes. “I call the shots, baby.”

You snorted but drew from his confidence to say: “Alright, chief. Let’s see what you got.”

Jeonghan’s eyes flashed back to you, then to your lips. “Ready when you are,” he mumbled, continuing to lean to you when–

“Director-nim!” a snappy voice called from below one end of the stage. You followed the sound of the voice. The young man was flashing Jeonghan an annoyed look.

“What?” Jeonghan responded, his tone dropping to one you rarely heard on him.

“Yoon Jeonghan! Stop flirting and come here!”

“This guy,” he said under his breath as he stood up. “I’ll be right back,” he told you as he approached the group where the young man was showing him a daring smile.

The phone you stuck between your thighs started vibrating, pulling you out of your focus. Joshua’s name displayed on the screen, along with a photo of him that you took on one of your dates.

“Hi, handsome,” you responded to his call, a smile spreading on your face almost at once.

“Hi, beautiful,” his sweet voice came to your ear a second after. “I just landed.”

“How was your flight? You sound tired,” you noted.

“I didn’t get much sleep on the flight. But we’re on the way to the hotel and hopefully I can sleep before I begin with the promotional activities,” his tone dropped slightly, then he paused pensively before: “I can’t wait till I’m back home. I miss you already.”

A spasm in your chest made you choke out. “I miss you too, babe,” you replied, sneaking a look to Jeonghan walking back to you.

“I’ll call you when I’m at the hotel,” Joshua said. “I have to go.”

“Okay,” you mumbled. “Love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

Jeonghan sat down beside you again, a knowing look on his face as he motioned a question with one movement of his head. “Everything okay?”

You tucked your phone between your thighs again. “Yeah. Everything’s okay. Josh just landed,” you sighed and looked back at him. “You?”

Jeonghan nodded when he saw your assurance. “These brats were trying to grab my attention,” he said with a hint of annoyance, which was quickly replaced with a cheeky smile. “They want to know who you are.”

“Oh, are they your friends?” you asked, sending a quick glance to the small group of performers gathered to one side of the stage. You caught the eye of one of the men. And you recognized him right away.

Jeonghan leaned back on the seat, crossing one leg as he nodded. “My friends first. Then I tried to get them into castings, and when I got my company settled they were there every step of the way.”

“They seem… fun,” you frowned, paying attention to the commotion that was starting to take place in the small group of Jeonghan’s friends. “I know one of them.”

“Who, Seokmin?” he guessed right away.

“Yeah, he was–,”

“Joshua’s flatmate, yeah. I introduced them,” he smirked.

“And you think it’s okay to introduce them to me like this?” you asked sheepishly.

“Well, we don’t have to give any explanation,” he shrugged. “But I do see how this could be uncomfortable for you.”

“I just don’t want people close to Joshua to think that I’m cheating on him,” you whispered, dropping your gaze to your hands.

Jeonghan stilled. “Yeah, I didn’t think of that,” he sighed with a hint of disappointment. “Maybe we could do this another way.”

Your heart deflated at once. “I still want to meet them.”

He pondered about it for a second. “I don’t want people to think you cheated on Joshua either,” he agreed, pursing his lips. “Tell you what, let’s wait for another opportunity. With a lot more privacy.”

You looked around the theatre room, catching several pairs of curious eyes on both you and Jeonghan. “Yeah, you’re right.”

After being with him all day in what truly felt like a regular day you would spend with a partner, Jeonghan took you to dinner with him, and went for a stroll, talking about everything and nothing while holding hands.

It had been a nice time, but more pressing matters distracted you: work. You needed to work since the last few days your focus was on enjoying Joshua’s last days at home.

“Are you… staying the night?” you asked as the car turned down the street you lived in.

Jeonghan had one hand on the steering wheel, and the other was clasped with yours. “No, baby, not tonight,” he decided after two long seconds.

“Can I ask why?” you asked with caution.

“I have to do some work early tomorrow. Plus, I don’t have clothes, or a toothbrush,” he replied with a shrug.

You looked at your hands laced together. “You can bring some of your things, so you can stay someday… if you want.”

You hated how tiny and vulnerable you sounded. But you did not want to spend the night alone.

But Jeonghan did not notice, his focus was on pulling to the curb right in front of your building. “I’ll bring some in, baby,” he replied aloofly.

“Okay,” you replied begrudgingly.

But you did not make a motion to exit the car yet, your seatbelt was still put on, your hand still in his. Jeonghan smiled, noticing your reluctance. “Come here,” he breathed, leaning towards you, a pair of fingers slipping beneath your jaw to kiss your lips tenderly. “See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow, Hannie,” you replied with a sweet smile like his.    

Midnight Haze Rocks the World: New Album Breaks Streaming Records in 24 Hours

Read the headline on your monitor screen. A picture of the three members of Midnight Haze appeared on top of the article published that morning. It was the third day since Joshua left for his first tour with his band Midnight Haze. And as expected, the internet flooded with overwhelming love for their phenomenal skyrocketing to success.

As such, a lot of eyes were posed on Joshua. A deluge of articles and videos were coming out every day, about his personal life, about his artistic process to write his lyrics, and speculations about his lovers.

Joshua was right. There was a huge part of Midnight Haze’s following that suspected he had a partner. And there was an even larger part that suspected that he was no more than a womanizer.

To some extent, it was painful to read some of the things you found online. And as much as you wanted to avoid it, you could not. So you did what you knew best: bury yourself in work.

Midnight Haze Sold-Out World Tour Breaks Box Office Records

It had been ten days since Joshua left.

His texts came less often. Same as his phone calls. Whenever he did call or text, he said he was busy, stressed. But he was trying to keep in touch with you. And that was all that mattered.

Midnight Haze’s Joshua Hong and Mysterious Woman Spark Romance Rumors at Exclusive Event

It was fourteen days since Joshua left. It was becoming more difficult to ignore the headlines and rumours created around him to draw in attention from the public and his fans. Although he seemed more consumed by the fast-paced nature of his job, he still called everyday.

Deciding you had your fill of nonsense you found online, you rested your head in your arm, sighing deeply in exhaustion.

“Baby, wake up,” Jeonghan’s soothing voice pulled you from your dreams.

You lifted your head abruptly, drawing in a breath. “I’m up,” you blurted sluggishly. “What’s up?”

Jeonghan giggled as you rubbed your eyes. You were in your studio, sitting on your armchair. There was drool smeared on your cheek, as you came to find out when you rubbed your face.

“You fell asleep,” Jeonghan pointed, giving you a kind smile. “Let’s go to bed.”

“When did you get here?” you slurred out. The room had darkened, the only source of light coming from your double monitor idle screens.

“Just got here,” he said, and you had started to notice the hint of concern in his voice. “Go to bed, so you can sleep better.”

You turned to your screen to look at the time. You had been asleep like this for nearly four hours. “Oh no,” you gasped. “I slept for too long. I must keep working.”

“Why?” he asked slowly. “You’re clearly tired, baby. Sleep some more and come back when you feel more refreshed.”

“Mmn,” you pondered his request for a second. You ran your sleeve over the tiny puddle of drool on your desk and looked at him.

Jeonghan was standing beside you, looking at you as if you were a baby in your crib. “You missed here,” he whispered, bringing the tip of his finger to the corner of your lips.

You slapped your hand to your lips, wiping the drool that was there.

He giggled. “Come on, princess, let’s go to bed,” he egged, motioning to the door to the bedroom.

You shook your head. “I want tea,” you pushed yourself from the chair.

“Tsk,” he sighed heavily, but he followed you down the hall, nonetheless.

“I don’t want to hear it,” you mumbled groggily, knowing what was coming.

“You’re overworking yourself again, Princess,” he reprimanded.

“Here we go,” you said in a sing-song tone.

“Just rest for a day!” he suggested with earnest. “You’ll feel better, and probably will get more work done.”

“I can’t rest, the deadline to submitting the first draft is nearer,” you protested as you got to the kitchen, getting to the electric kettle, filling it with water and turning it on. “And I’m nowhere near done this draft.”

“There is nothing wrong with taking a break for one day,” Jeonghan tilted his head to one side, his brown eyes following you. “Just take a break for once.”

You locked eyes with him, now considering his request.

“For me,” he added, the corners of his lips tightening, trying not to break into a smile.

“Pfft,” you scoffed loudly when he finally gave in, laughing merrily at his own cheesy addition. “See, I was considering it, until you said that,” you pointed.

“Please?” he said, bringing a halt to his laughs and his features took on a more serious look. “Just for tonight.”

“Okay. Just for tonight,” you conceded, heart fluttering uneasily when he smiled in victory. “Tea?” you raised your eyebrows.

“Sure,” he muttered, nodding with his head once. He had crossed his arms on his chest, his eyes trained on you as you moved in the kitchen. “Did you stay up writing last night?” he pried.

“And the night before that,” you sighed, handing him a mug of tea with milk. “It’s just not going well.”

“Can I ask why?” he leaned back on the kitchen counter.

“It’s just a writer’s block,” you shrugged, but both of you knew that was not true.

“What is the problem?” he asked again, his tone was gentle, it gave you that cozy sense of familiarity he never failed to give you.

“I just can’t…” you started faintly, toying with the teaspoon. “I’m out of ideas. I planned the whole book, the whole trilogy, but I just can’t string them together. I’m paying too much attention to tiny details, and I can’t get my creativity flowing.”

Jeonghan pursed his lips. “It seems like you have the problem narrowed down.”

“Yeah,” you said dejectedly. “I just can’t solve it.”

“Well, stepping back can help,” he shrugged, flashing you a knowing look. “Maybe you need to… reframe your initial ideas.”

It was reasonable that Jeonghan had experience with this. His line of work is very similar to yours, in some way. Even if he did not always write the plays he directs, he knew what a creative block was.

You rolled your eyes to the ceiling, humming pensively as you tried to retrieve your answer. “I wanted this book to be like a bridge gapping the first and the third book but, now it just feels like I’ve written myself into a corner.”

“Don’t say that,” he protested, leaving his mug aside. “I get that you’re stressed and the deadline and all that,” a hand reached out to grab yours, gently pulling you towards him. “But you’re talented and smart enough to get out of any corner you find yourself in.”

His arm circled on your lower back, and your hand fell on his chest. It brought a smile to your face to hear his words. “Thank you, Jeonghan,” you said. “You’re right. I just focused on the smallest details, now I feel jaded.”

He nodded in understanding. “I know how that feels,” he said, his kind voice lowering a little. “Listen, why don’t we just relax for now? Continue tomorrow, take it one step at a time, see where that gets you.”

You nodded, sighing deeply. “Alright.”

Jeonghan smiled cutely at you, making tiny dimples appear on his chin. “You got this, baby,” he mumbled.

“Thank you, Jeonghan,” you whispered, meekly pushing yourself on your tiptoes to reach his lips with a kiss.

“Don’t thank me,” he breathed, his other hand came up to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling with your hair. He slotted his lips between yours, and you tasted the sweetness of green tea mixed with sugar in his kiss.

“Mmn,” your hands found his face. Jeonghan’s kisses were always tender, and delicate. Almost as if kissing the petals of a rose. Even during make-out sessions, just as this moment was turning into, he kept his lips gentle on yours.

But he pulled away too quickly, sucking in a breath between his teeth. Dropping his head back, he stared at the ceiling. Jeonghan had been doing this for the past few days: stopping himself before the kissing went too far.

“What’s wrong?” you mumbled.

He shook his head silently, and then he lowered his eyes to meet yours. “Let’s go to bed,” he suggested, taking your hand again.

“Okay,” you whispered, a coy smile appearing on your face.

“Knock it off,” he snapped, but he started smiling too.

“I didn’t do anything!” you giggled as he took you to the bedroom. “What’s with that serious face? I thought you were onto something.”

“Careful, princess,” he cautioned, but you heard the hint of playfulness in his tone.

“Or what?” you smirked as you sat down on your bed and kept your eyes on him as he emptied the pockets of his black sweats on the nightstand. His phone, the keys to his car and apartment, and a green vape pen.

“Or nothing,” he huffed, motioning at the bed. “Are you going to lie down?”

“Yeah, I just…” you saw him lie down on the mattress; legs spread wide open. You sighed.  “I’ll change into pjs,” you announced, a smirk painted on your face as you rose to your feet, stripping your cozy pullover with one movement and then your pants.

“Tsk,” he clicked his tongue and reached for his vape pen, tucking it between his rosy lips. Even as you turned your back to him, you knew his eyes were on your semi-naked body. You sent him a glance to confirm your suspicions were true and smiled.

“Don’t smoke in my bedroom,” you chastised him, but your tone was made insecure by his eyes staring at you.

“I’m not smoking,” he mumbled faintly, and his statement was true. He had not drawn from his vape pen yet, but he kept it tucked between his lips.

You finished smoothing Joshua’s oversized t-shirt over your frame and walked to the bed. Jeonghan watched you crawl to where he occupied the mattress, which was your side of the bed.

“What does it taste like?” you wondered, tilting your head in curiosity.

Jeonghan said nothing, he just handed you his vape pen, matching your curiosity with his eyes. And you took it, you tried to mimic his movements you always saw him do by tucking the tip between your lips. A faint smirk appeared on his face when you sent him a glance and sucked in a breath from the vape pen.

You started coughing at once. The light smoke invaded your throat and coating it with an overly sweet taste, making it impossible to get an actual experience of what Jeonghan was so addicted to. He chuckled as your coughing died.

“It’s slowly, baby,” he instructed, taking the vape pen from your hand gently and motioned your eyes to him. “Like taking a small sip from a straw.”

He took a draw from the vape pen slowly, his throat bobbing as he seemingly swallowed the smoke, and then exhaled it through his mouth and nose.

“Try it.”

You sent him a reluctant look, but took the pen to your mouth, nonetheless. Slowly, you sucked in a breath once again, getting a taste of the green apple flavor that reminded you of Jeonghan. Then you quickly blew the light smoke with your lips.

“That was disappointing,” you mumbled. 

“What did you expect?” he chuckled.

“This is what you’re so addicted to?” you raised your eyebrows, giving the pen back to him.

“No,” he rolled his eyes. “I was that or tobacco. And I just need to keep my hands and mouth busy. This helps,” he signaled to the vape pen.

“Hands and mouth busy, eh?” you smirked.

“Shut up,” he hissed, but a wide smile took over the features of his face.

“Make me,” you whispered, zeroing your eyes on him in a tantalizing way.

Jeonghan paused, the only sign that he was not expecting you say that was a single twitch of an eyebrow. He took a long draw, an even longer one, that went on for seconds, filling his chest out with smoke.

“Come here,” he said, not letting go of even a ghost of smoke through his lips. He extended one arm, his hand cupping your cheek, holding your face inches away from his. “Open your mouth.”

You instinctively parted your lips, just as he exhaled the smoke he had been holding in his chest, pouring it into your mouth. It felt cold, it tasted like green apples, it filled your senses with the taste of him as you exhaled.

Jeonghan sealed your lips with a kiss so soft it had you asking for more. You moaned, a hand coming to hold his face to help you kiss him harder, enticingly. “Princess,” he grunted through your continued attacks with your lips. “You need to rest.”

You pulled away from his lips, looking at him in utter disbelief. “Okay,” you frowned.

Rejected, you lied down on the opposite side of the bed to Jeonghan, turning over so your back was to him. Your heart deflated with pangs of pain at each beat, your mind riddled with questions as to why he was keeping you at arm’s length.

You jolted in surprise when Jeonghan’s arm encircled your waist, nuzzling his face in your hair. Just as he did the last time he slept in your bed.

“Are we just cuddling?” you sulked.

“Yep. Just cuddling,” he mumbled, scooting his body to yours so he could perfectly spoon you.

“Why?” you whispered, closing your eyes to push down the tears trying to sting them. You felt ridiculous.

“You need to rest,” he repeated with a calming tone.

“Jeonghan,” you turned over to see his face. “Did I do something wrong?”

He frowned. “No,” he shook his head. “Why do you say that?”

“You haven’t been… as physical as usual,” you mumbled out with caution. “I’m beginning to think that I’m doing something wrong.”

Jeonghan blinked, an alarmed look settling in the features of his face. “I just wanted to take my time with you,” he said, gentleness coating his words. Once he saw your features relax, he continued: “We started with the wrong foot. I wanted you to get to know me outside of the sexual aspect, you know?”

“But I do know you outside of the sexual aspect,” you blurted. “You’re my best friend.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you wished to take them back. 

“That’s not…” Jeonghan sighed with a frustrated air. “When you mentioned the steps to a relationship, I thought we could take it slow, and let you know me intimately.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, yanking your gaze from his face.

“No, I’m sorry,” he replied in the same fashion. “I never wanted to make you feel rejected.”

You noticed for the first time, how struggling it was for him to speak out his inner thoughts. He was an excellent communicator sometimes, but it was different when it came to his feelings.

“It’s okay,” you reassured, now enclosing the space between you on the bed, so you could entangle your body with his. “But I’m confused. I do know you intimately.”

He shook his head lightly. “You mean as your friend,” he said wearily. “I mean as a boyfriend.”

Your heart stopped, and the moment between you too. In all the past few weeks you have been with Jeonghan, in all the considerations you were trying to bring into the relationship, you somehow thought that was a given.

“Wait,” he blurted, closed his eyes tightly and then: “I want to ask you formally.”

You blinked at him, a smile slowly curving your lips. “It’s okay,” you repeated. “I’d like that, Jeongjeong.”

“You would?” he smirked. “I’m sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve done serious relationships. And I’m old. So, I don’t know what’s in anymore.”

“You’re not old,” you said slowly. “And I don’t know what’s in either, so… Chances are that whatever you have in mind is something I like.”

“Okay,” he sighed, looking more relaxed, but then he pressed his lips into a tight line. “Just so you know, it was never within my intentions to make you feel like I don’t want you.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured with a light smile. “It was just confusing to me why you didn’t want to be physical anymore.”

Jeonghan let out a low chuckle. “Princess, believe me, there’s nothing more I want right now,” he rolled his eyes in shame. “Especially when you undress yourself in front of me, doing those sounds when I kiss you.”

You had to laugh at his face in complete frustration. “Well, if you had said something about it, I wouldn’t have teased you so much,” you pouted.

“Ah, really?” he snickered. “Really, princess? I don’t believe that for a second,” he emphasized.

“Why, don’t I get the benefit of the doubt?”

“Not when you’re both mine and Joshua’s partner, mm-mmn,” he negated with his head on the pillow.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you asked, though pointlessly. 

“You’re a tease,” he said with an obvious tone. “You know what will work on me because it works on him.”  

“Mmph,” you hummed thoughtfully. “You know I don’t see it like that.”

But it did sound familiar to something Joshua said a couple of months ago. It was something that you had started to find very real: Jeonghan and Joshua were so similar to the point it could be eerie. And it did not seem impressive to Joshua that Jeonghan would find you attractive, because he also did.

“Let’s go to sleep,” he said after taking a look at your face.

“Okay,” you conceded, turning over again to be cuddled by his body.

Some moments later, you could still hear him breathing normally. His movements were kept at minimum, but you knew he was still awake. He shifted slightly behind you, you heard the rustle of the bedsheets, when he moved his head on your pillow.

You just closed your eyes, trying to fall asleep but his body behind you was too distracting, your feet bumped into his, the warmth pooling inside your tummy making you smile.

Jeonghan shifted again on the bed, encircling his arm around your waist languidly, now his body fully pressed against yours. You could understand the reason why he struggled to find a position to rest with your body close to his.

“Are you okay?” you breathed.

He blinked, darting a look to your face. “Yeah, I’m just…” he sighed, smiling shyly at you. “You’re very warm.”

“You don’t like it?” you frowned. “We don’t have to cuddle, we could–,”

“I do like it,” he cut in. “That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?” you mumbled, giggling softly at his indecision.

When you went to bed, you had forgotten to close the blinds completely, a faint light coming from the windows painted his face in a pale white color. You could see his eyes properly as he contemplated his answer.

“I don’t think I can wait much longer,” he mumbled, laughing sheepishly at his own demise. “I thought I could, but I guess I’m not so strong when it comes to you.”

Jeonghan had his arm folded and tucked under his head, so that way his eyes lowered to find your face as you turned over, your back pressed against the mattress.

“Well, you’ve been edging me and yourself for nearly two weeks now,” you said, smiling at him as he laughed harder. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I want to be a good boyfriend to you,” he pursed his lip into a pout. But his hand parked on your tummy over your t-shirt.

Your heart stammered in your chest frantically, making your blood rush to your face. “You are a good boyfriend, Jeonghan,” you mumbled, flashing him a cheeky smile. “You can be a good boyfriend and have sex with me.”  

“I–,” he broke into an airy laugh, squeezing his eyes in utter shyness. “Don’t tempt me, princess. You’re tired and haven’t slept well.”

“Mmn, okay,” you said, but you could see it in his eyes: Jeonghan wanted you. His rosy lips parted slightly, his heavy-lidded eyes reading your face. “Come here, baby,” you whispered, sneaking a hand on his nape to pull him to your face.

Jeonghan reciprocated the need of your lips without skipping a second. The strangled sound that coiled in his throat only egged you on, your hands slid from his nape to graze his scalp with the tips of your fingers.

“Call me that again,” he breathed gruffly into your mouth as he repositioned his body on top of yours.

You paused, looking at his face that was now hovering on top of yours. “Baby,” you hummed, an ecstatic shudder shaking you when he saw the fascination flash in his eyes. “Kiss me… please.”

Jeonghan leaned down but stopped before he could reach your lips, a smile broke the features of his face. “You’re going to be the death of me. You know that, right?”

The tip of his nose bumped with yours playfully taunting you before he slotted his pretty lips with yours. You felt the weight of the pillows shifting when he placed his forearms on the sides of your head, caging you in. Blindly, you parted your legs for him just as he slotted himself between them.

He kept kissing you, he never stopped. The softness to which he was kissing you made you drunk, wanting more. “Hannie…” you whispered, turning your head as his lips kissed the apple of your cheek, trailing down to the line of your jaw.

“Tell me what you want,” he mumbled faintly, his breath fanning a spot below your earlobe.

You recounted in your head every sexual experience you have had with Jeonghan so far. Narrowing down what had made you so dissatisfied the last time you had sex with him was easy: there was a lack of connection with him. One that you craved deeply.

“I want you–,” you gasped when his lips reached your collarbone, as he pushed back his body, his hands retreated from your sides, finding the hem of your oversized t-shirt. His hands were cold upon sliding on your tummy. “I don’t care how, just do anything you like.”

A flash of déjà vu hit you hard. Jeonghan lifted his head from the curve of your neck, his long dark hair obscuring his eyes. “Anything?” he asked, tilting his head to one side slowly. “There must be something you need, princess.”

“I don’t know,” you smiled at him sheepishly.

Jeonghan leaned forward, his fingers trapping your chin. “I’ll do anything you tell me to,” he purred right before capturing your lips with his for a shallow kiss. “You call the shots, baby.”

Your breath hitched; his hand came to cup your cheek. “Keep going, please,” you muttered, though it was not necessary, his lips were still on yours, giving you soft pecks.

Jeonghan gave you no verbal reply, but he kept kissing you anyway, each kiss tenderer than the one before. It made you dizzy, the softness that he put with every touch.

“Jeonghan,” you put a hand on the center of his chest, bringing a stop to his sweet kisses at once. His dark eyes locked with yours, giving you the confidence you needed. “Can you be rough with me?”

Upon hearing your request, he stilled completely. “How rough?” he asked, much as if he did not give a second thought to your words, nor pause to ask why. He knew this was what you needed.  

“Just do it,” you asked, your tone waning over the nervousness that kicked right in. “I promise I won’t break.”

“I know you won’t,” he smirked, diving for another shallow kiss, laughing softly at the low grunt you gave him in protest.

Then he kissed you again. Harder this time, showing you how much he had been holding back. Before his touch had been delicate and tender. But now, his kiss was forceful, passionate. He crushed your lips, making you muffle out a moan in his hot mouth. 

“Want me to fuck your brains out, baby?” he rasped, backing away to take a look at your face. The lascivious glint in his eyes was unmistakable, and so eerily familiar.

“Yes, please,” you mewled, your hands snaked from his chest to clutch at his neck.

Jeonghan sighed in your mouth. “You needy little thing. You really are made for us.”

“I am,” you replied in a frenzy, returning each needy kiss he planted in your mouth.

A hand pushed your t-shirt up to your chest, uncovering your tits to him. “Do you know how fucking much I love these?” he rasped, sending you a look before dipping his head to litter your skin with kisses.

His lips attached to one of your nipples, his tongue toying with your pebbled bud, to then suckle at it with a smacking noise. “Fuck-k, baby,” you mewled, your fingers tangling with his long dark hair, giving it a soft tug.

“Mmn,” he searched for one of your hands on his head, grabbing it and driving it to the mattress. No touching, he wordlessly commanded, locking his fingers with yours.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “God, fuck,” you squirmed helplessly, the back of his tongue teased your nipple, swirling around it and suckling at it hungrily.

His free hand fumbled your other breast, his fingers pinching and tugging your hardened nipple as his mouth continued to work on the other, making it sensitive. He detached his mouth with a wet sound, his eyes marvelled at your body for a second as he released your hand.

“Behave,” he conditioned before leaning down again to tease your other nipple with his mouth.

First his lips tugged at it, to then graze at it with his teeth, making a sharp hiss come out from you. You lowered your gaze, finding his. Jeonghan smiled at you, pulling his tongue out to tease your nipple, swirling around it.

You sighed out the pleasure burning within you, sinking in the pillows as your skin prickled. “Please… more,” you mewled, your hands clawing on the bedsheets. “Keep going, Hannie, please.”

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, but the motion of his tipped tongue did not stop. His hands cupped your tits, making them bulge, and he lowered his face onto your chest. The low grunt that he muffled in your tits told you that he was enjoying sucking at your nipples just as much as you.

You closed your eyes, focusing on the pleasure building in the pit of your tummy, your muscles clenched in response when he sucked harsher, then changed to toy with your nipple with swift motions.

“Ha-hannie,” you called shakily. “I think I’m gonna come.”

For a moment, you thought Jeonghan had not heard you. He made no move, no sound to acknowledge your words. He just kept going: sucking, licking, pinching your sensitive nipples. Drool dripped down on your bumpy skin, the wet sounds Jeonghan made, paired with the low groans he gave you whenever you moaned. 

“Oh god… I’m coming,” you choked out, hands clenching around the bedsheets. Your orgasm flooded within you, it was quick and sweet, and even though the feeling was short, it had you panting. And wanting more.

Jeonghan hummed with satisfaction, leaving a kiss on each of your nipples before meeting your eyes. “Was that a first?”

You recognized where his game was going at once. “Yeah,” you sighed with a meek smile. “It felt good. I needed that.”

“Mn, princess, you’re such a needy mess,” he said gruffly, his hand caressing your bumpy skin over your tummy. “Is that why you can’t write, baby? Too much in your head?”

“Think so,” you replied coyly.

Jeonghan sat back on his heels, contemplating you for a second under the pale light coming from the window. “These need to come off,” he toyed with the band of your wet panties with his lithe fingers.

He hooked his fingers around the hem of your panties, pulling them down your legs with your help, lifting your hips for him.

“No, not that. Keep that on,” he instructed when he caught sight of your hands trying to get rid of your t-shirt.

Then he stretched one arm, reaching for something on the nightstand. Your heart stammered when he grabbed his phone. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, sending you a glance.

“Yeah,” you replied.

The flash of the camera hit your eyes, making you squint at it. But you quickly adapted, seeing Jeonghan’s fascinated face behind his phone as he directed it to your naked body. He caught on video everything he liked to see: your face, your tits smeared in his spit, and your pussy.

“You got so wet, baby,” he mumbled, making a trail with the tips of his fingers from your bellybutton to your mound, caressing it. “Baby needs to be fucked everyday, or she can’t function properly. Right, princess?”

The white light returned to your face, you nodded. “J-jeonghan!”

His fingers continued trailing down, finding your pussy lips spread open. “So fucking wet,” he sighed in awe, dipping one finger in your pooling entrance. “You got like this just by playing with your tits a little…”

Another finger joined in, pushing inside your throbbing walls as the phone captured it in video.

“Jeonghan,” you protested. “Please, just fuck me.”

“Stay still, baby,” his voice was low whenever he gave you a command, and that way you knew not to challenge him again. “I’ll give you what you want if you promise to be good.”

You sighed in frustration. “I promise,” you hated the way your voice sounded.

That seemed to please him. The flash of the camera went off, Jeonghan tossed his phone on the bed near your body, pulling his fingers out of your pussy.

The loss of stimulation had you protesting with a lewd whine. “So impatient,” he tutted. Then he nodded his head at you. “Knees up.”  

His hand pushed on the back of your leg, making your chest compress a little right before he dipped his head to your needy pussy, his tongue swiping a line between your folds. Your muscles tightened under the overwhelming sensation of his tongue licking your arousal, drinking you in.

“Fuck,” you gritted, your hands flew to grab your own legs to keep yourself in place for him.

You heard a muffled laugh, his breath fanning your wet pussy causing you to shiver. The tip of his nose bumped against your clit as his tongue sank inside you, then retreated, only to dive in again, his face pressed flush against you, fucking you with his tongue.

A strangled gasp escaped you, his tongue left your pussy and was quickly replaced by his fingers, slipping them in until he was knuckle deep inside you. But his tongue slid to your clit, teasing it with swift jabs, getting it to swell by teasing it with his lips, tugging and suckling at it.

“Oh, g-god,” your body shook on the bed sheets, your eyes squeezed shut so tight you started to see colors.

The low hum he gave you was paired with one deep intake of breath on his part, breathing you in practically, his mouth unrelenting on your pussy. His fingers kept dragging inside and out of your throbbing walls, delighting himself with moans each time you clenched around him.

“Fuck, Hannie,” you mewled, pushing your head back onto your pillow. “Don’t stop, baby, please…”

Jeonghan pushed his face onto your cunt harder, groaning against you as his fingers thrusted inside you harshly, curving inside your walls and finding that spot effortlessly. Your mouth fell open, pelvis tilting towards his face. All focus, was narrowed to his mouth making out with your pussy, his fingers teasing that spot inside your walls.

“I’m there,” you sighed out. “Jeonghan, I’m coming,” you let out a long cry of pleasure, body shaking on your bed.

Your orgasm washed down your spine, burning inside you. His fingers kept thrusting inside you, his mouth helping you ride your high without stopping for a second to breathe. Just as you were coming down, he detached his mouth from your throbbing pussy, but his fingers did not.

“Jeonghan?” you panted.

His fingers kept teasing that spot inside you, the force from his hand on your cunt had started to make a single vein pop out along his forearm. “Can you give me one more, baby?” he asked, his free hand reaching for the phone he had discarded earlier.

“I… yeah,” you decided, holding your legs to your chest with your hands.

The camera flashed your eyes again. “Good girl,” he whispered, capturing the mess that you were in. It occurred to you that Jeonghan did not want you to remove the t-shirt you were wearing… he wanted to fuck you in it for Joshua to see.

He pointed the camera at his hand pumping in and out of your puffy cunt, the wet sounds coming from it sounded loud and almost dirty. His fingers picked up the pace, now teasing relentlessly inside you, making you gasp and jolt at each harsh jab.

“J-jeonghan!” you cried out.

“Careful, we can’t make too much noise, remember?” he smirked at you.

“I-if you keep going, I’m gonna… I’m gonna–,” you choked out, arching your back on the mattress as the hot liquid spurting from you landed onto his hand and the bed.

Jeonghan smiled, his fascinated eyes flitting from the screen of the phone capturing the mess you were making, to your body writhing on the wet sheets. “Tsk, messy girl,” you heard him say between the loud wet noises and your own breathless moans.

To see him smile sent you onto another wild frenzy. You moaned as his fingers left your throbbing pussy, his other hand tossing his phone heedlessly. Then, Jeonghan grabbed his t-shirt, peeling it off his torso with one swift motion.

“Remind me to put a towel under you next time,” he smirked, using his own t-shirt to wipe your arousal and his own spit from his chin, then his hands.

You sighed, embarrassment heating your face, but you could not deny that you liked this. And Jeonghan saw right through you. He leaned over to you, capturing your lips in a kiss, he smelled of you, and you could taste yourself in his mouth. The act was so dirty it had him swallowing your moans, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Jeonghan… I want you to fuck me, please,” you whined when he pulled his head back.

“Do you think you deserve it?” he asked, his voice was low and slightly raspy.

“Yeah?” you smiled coyly.

“Why shouldn’t I edge you a little bit more?” he grabbed your legs, wrapping them around his waist, as he pressed his chest against yours, grinding his hips against yours.

The bulge of his hard cock pressed against your cunt. “Jeonghan,” you gasped when he ground against you harder, teasing you. “You’ve been edging me for days now.”

“You said I could do anything I wanted to you,” he smirked, his hand grabbing your jaw before pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. “

“But I want you now,” you mumbled wantonly.

“Don’t argue with me,” he retorted, the glint in his eyes giving away the playfulness behind his actions.

“Stop teasing me, Jeonghan,” you whispered, your hands holding onto his back as he kept rubbing his hard dick against you, smearing your wetness all over his boxers. “Please, I need you, baby,” you whined pathetically.

He dived for another hungry kiss. “God, you’re so fucking needy,” he protested, but his tone made him sound just as pathetic.

“Don’t mock me, Jeonghan,” you bit back. You should not have done that.

The slap came to your face in the blink of an eye, it was swift and painful, but the wave of both excitement and arousal barreled down your spine, making you gasp. Your widened eyes found his face, gaping at him as your cheek tingled.

“I told you not to argue with me,” Jeonghan laughed, and the sound of his laughter sent a wave of shame that burned in your face.  

A low moan escaped you when his hard cock rubbed against your swollen clit. “Jeonghan, please fuck me. Fuck me now,” you pleaded with a whiny tone, ignoring how pathetic you sounded, or felt.  

“That’s it, baby. Beg for me,” he purred, nibbling at your lower lip right before kissing you. His tongue caressed the roof of your mouth, making you whimper at the sensation.

Then you understood what he was doing, he pushed his boxers down, freeing his pretty cock. He grabbed it with one hand, one thumb pressing down his tip, directing it to your pussy. And just when you thought he was finally going to fuck you, he decided to do something else.

“I don’t hear you begging,” he said, fucking his cock between your pussy lips, making his tone waver. A low grunt escaped his lips, and you responded with your own.

“Please,” you breathed.

“Please, what.”

“Fuck me,” you mumbled, regretting the minute you asked him to be mean with you. But you could not lie to yourself, you liked this. You liked seeing his cock glistening wet with your arousal.

“I am fucking you,” he chuckled airily, pushing his hips against you so his tip nudged your entrance, but slipped between your folds.

“I need you inside me, Jeonghan,” you whimpered as his shaft rubbed against your clit. “N-need your cock inside me, please.”

“That’s better,” he sighed, retracting his hips to then sheathe himself inside you with one full thrust. He lowered the upper half of his body to yours, repositioning his arms above your head.

“F-fuck, Jeonghan…” you gritted as his cock filled your walls. You sighed in pleasure, finding his face with your hands to pull him in a kiss.

You saw something flash across the features of his face, making him groan as his lips met yours. “God,” he gasped. “I love how you squeeze around me, baby.”

“Y-yeah?” you breathed pathetically.

“Mmn, yeah. Your pretty little c-cunt feels like magic,” he shuddered in pleasure, grunting in your mouth before kissing you again.

“It’s yours, Hannie,” you replied dazedly.

“I know,” he grinned, his hand finding the back of your knee, pushing it to your side to hold you open for him. “You’re such a needy slut for us, right?”

A wave of arousal tore through you. “Yes,” you breathed. “I am.”

Jeonghan noticed your demeanor, your eyes glazing and mouth parting in utter pleasure. “Wait,” he stilled. “Turn over for me, baby,” Jeonghan pulled his body, sitting back on his heels as you reluctantly turned facedown on the bed. “Ass up.”

Then on your side, Jeonghan handed you his phone, the front camera was already recording. You grabbed it and searched for somewhere to place it, deciding for to put it against the lamp on your bedside table. You saw yourself on the screen and Jeonghan on his knees behind you.

Through the screen you saw Jeonghan sneaking a hand between your body and his, then felt the tip of his cock searching for your entrance. A strangled moan came out of you as he sheathed himself in, a hand pushing your lower back down for you to tilt your pelvis for him.

“God,” he groaned, his head lolling back, grabbing your hips with his hands as he fucked you slowly.

You were too entranced by watching his face through the recording to focus on his cock massaging your walls.

“You feel so fucking good, princess,” he swallowed a moan, making his throat bob. 

“Y-you too, Hannie,” you responded faintly, lowering your face back onto the bed covers to see him through the screen of his phone.

“No, no. I want Joshua to see your face,” Jeonghan rasped, grabbing you by the hair, pulling your head upward with little to no heed for you.

The sheer thought of Joshua seeing this made you clench around Jeonghan’s cock. He moaned in response too, his fingers digging into your skin, squeezing your ass firmly as his other hand kept pulling your hair.

“Jeonghan,” you called breathily, the hard thrusting had you panting already. The rails of your bed banged against the wall with the pacing of his thrusts. “Harder. Fuck me harder.”

Jeonghan laughed, ignoring you completely. He pulled your hair firmly, making sure the camera captured your teary eyes. “Jeonghan, please.”

“Alright, alright,” he conceded, placing his hands on the middle of your spine, pushing your chest onto the mattress. “You asked for it.”

You could no longer see yourself on the video, your face was mushed against the covers, giving you space to cry out as Jeonghan started pounding on you. The brutal pace of his thrusts knocked the air out of you, the sound of skin slapping against each other was the only thing you could hear above your muffled cries.

“Jeonghan!” you forced out, your sweet release flooding inside your body. “Oh, god, Hannie…”

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped. “God. Keep squeezing me like that,” his hands clenched on your ass, switching the motion to his hands, fucking you on his cock instead of moving his hips. “Fuck,” he gritted with a sigh. “Yeah, just like that…”

You gathered yourself, breathing in slowly as you lifted your head. In the screen of his phone, you saw him looking at your body, moving your hips to meet with his languidly.

“Hand me the phone, baby,” he made a motion with his head.

You reached for his phone in your nightstand and passed it to him, turning your head to see what he was doing. He was now pointing the camera lens to your ass, and you knew that he was capturing your messy cunt, filled with his cum as he kept pushing his cock inside you.

He was panting when he tossed the phone one final time. “Are you okay?” he asked breathlessly. “Want more?”

You shook your head. “I’m sensitive,” you admitted. And you were so tired that all you wanted now was to rest in the pleasure he had given you.

Jeonghan nodded, caressing your ass gently before pulling out of you. “Lie down, baby,” he muttered as you just eased onto the bed with a tired sigh. “I’ll bring you something to clean up, hold on.”

The bed shifted around you when he climbed off the bed and exited the bedroom. You closed your eyes, breathing out in pure bliss, enjoying how languid your body was after being pleasured over and over.

You heard him come in. “Turn over for me, princess,” he mumbled with a sweet voice. He had a towel in his hand, soaked in warm water. “What do you need?”

“Sleep,” you slurred out. 

Jeonghan nodded. “Do you have clean blankets?”

“In the closet,” you said, pointing to the double doors in the bedroom.

Jeonghan got a bundle of blankets, spreading them over your naked body to then slip beneath them and next to you. As you searched for his body to hold him, you realized that he had not slept naked with you before.

“Thank you, Jeonghan,” you hummed happily, wrapping your arms around his torso.

“For what, baby?”

“For taking care of me,” you mumbled, your heart swelling with warmth and love. “And for fucking my brains out.”

Jeonghan chuckled, his hand brushing your hair slowly. “Anything for you.” 

“Do you think we’ll get another noise complaint after this?” you asked sluggishly.

“If they come to the door, I’ll deal with it,” he said decidedly. “Sleep for now.”

You lifted your head to give him a kiss. “Goodnight, baby.”

Jeonghan gave you a sweet smile. “Goodnight, princess.”

“We have a date tonight,” Jeonghan announced the morning after.

“We do?” you asked. “You know, I’d appreciate it if you invite me out with more time in advance.”

“I forgot to tell you last night… you kept me busy,” Jeonghan rasped sleepily, his arm wrapped your back, his fingers trailing gently down your spine.

“So it’s my fault,” you laughed.

“We’ve talked about this,” he slurred out, but a lazy smile spread on his lips. “Everything is your fault.”

“Maybe last night was my fault,” you conceded playfully, lifting your head from his chest. “Where is the date?”

“Mmn, I don’t know, I have to ask,” he mumbled, his eyes were closed but you noticed his heavy lashes shaking slightly.

“Ask?” you inquired.

“It’s a double date,” he explained, peeling one eye open.

“Oh,” you gasped. “With whom?”

“My best friends,” he said with ease, but you knew how this important was to him.

“You have a lot of best friends, baby,” you chuckled.

“Mmn, yeah, you’re right,” he said, his voice was still lazy, but he had gained more lucidity. “These are friends I met in school, while I was getting my degree.”

“Exciting,” you smiled at the way the features of his face were lax in the serenity of his sleep.

“What?” he noticed, his lips pouting slightly as he asked: “What, why are you looking at me like that?”

“I like your face, handsome,” you mumbled sweetly, running the tip of your finger down the bridge of his nose.

Jeonghan looked confused for a second. “I like your face too, beautiful,” he whispered.

The effect his words had on you made you freeze in place. You leaned to plant a small kiss on his lips, which he reciprocated with a low hum.

But then you were turning around, reaching for your phone on your bedside table to check if you had any updates from Joshua. He had replied to your last few texts, telling you excitingly that he had a date for you to visit him soon. And that he could not wait to see you again.

“That reminds me,” Jeonghan sighed, reaching for his own phone on the bedside of your side of the bed.

The videos. As soon as he unlocked his phone, the sounds from the night before flooded your ears: your whiny moans, the sounds of skin slapping together. Jeonghan wrapped one arm around your waist as you leaned your head on his shoulder and watched the videos you recorded together.

You hid your face flush on his shoulder when you saw a few seconds of one of the videos, making your insides twist in utter shame. “Oh god,” you groaned.

Jeonghan rested his hand on the back of your head. “What?” he asked, shifting his face to take a look at yours.

“It’s so…” you made a motion to the video playing on the screen, grimacing at the lewd sound of your moans.

“Hot?” Jeonghan lowered the phone after hitting Send with his thumb, sharing the videos to your boyfriend with nothing else to say in the message, no preamble whatsoever.

“Can I see?” you mumbled, extending your palm.

“Sure,” he deposited his phone in your hand without hesitation.

The videos were saved in a secret folder that he shared only with Joshua, you realized. “You were quick,” you said. He must have created the folder after recording he fucked you in a changing room.

“I don’t want them to fall on the wrong hands, princess,” he muttered, lazily drawing in a breath before yawning.

“Mmn,” you swiped your finger through the set of videos. You saw your face in so many of the frames captured. “Can I have access to this too?”

“Of course, baby,” he giggled sweetly. “I should’ve asked, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, aimlessly fidgeting with Jeonghan’s phone. You went back to the main folder where he kept all of the photos he took.

Jeonghan did not stop you, so you dived in the rows of snapped memories. Most of the photos were of himself with his friends, photos you helped him take, photos with you… Joshua.

The tip of your finger chose a photo, almost as if it had a mind of its own. “Where is this from?” you asked.

Jeonghan had chocolate brown hair in the photo, his head leaned on Joshua’s shoulder. The smile plastered on his face was sweet, two fingers in a peace sign held to the camera. Whereas Joshua had a pale bond hair, also smiling and holding a peace sign.

“That was… I think it was one of the first times I saw one of his shows,” he said, coughing a laugh. “He was a complete mess. He wasn’t the confident sexy rockstar you know now.”

“Mmph,” you smirked. “So you think he’s sexy?”

The restaurant was located on top of a hotel building. The tables were beautifully flanked by water gardens, lamps hanging from the open ceiling, illuminating everything with a warm orange glow.

“They’re usually late,” Jeonghan explained. But this was not said with his nonchalant and characteristic way. He anxiously looked around the tables with a pout on his face.

The air was damp, urging you to fan yourself with your hand in slow, lazy motions. Jeonghan wore a white shirt, unbuttoned all the way through, a white tank top underneath it. His long dark hair tucked behind his cute ears, he chewed on his lip.

“Are you nervous?”

His fleeting gaze fixed on your face. “A little,” he admitted, giving you a meek smile.

“Should I worry?” you raised your eyebrows.

“No, baby, not at all,” he slipped a hand under the table, finding your thigh to five it a squeeze.

“Okay,” you sighed, returning the smile he had given you.

Then you saw a familiar face, something helped by the fact that you had scrolled through Jeonghan’s photos on his phone. It was a friend of both Joshua and Jeonghan’s, but apparently so, Jeonghan had met this person long before Joshua did.

“They’re here,” he announced with a shaky mutter, standing up as the couple approached the table.

Then, with the nervousness that you had never seen in him before, he introduced you to his friends by name, sending you a glance. He probably saw the nervousness mirrored in your eyes, but somehow his confidence was restored upon mentioning that you are his girlfriend.

The man that was introduced to you as Choi Seungcheol blinked from your face to Jeonghan’s one time only. There was something exchanged there, but it was quite obvious that the man was not understanding this. The thought of this going badly set your nerves on fire.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” his girlfriend stepped in quickly, reading the situation too. 

“Baby, why don’t you go with Cheol’s girl to see the water gardens?” Jeonghan cut in, giving you a knowing look.

You paused before nodding with evident reluctance, stepping away from the table, leaving both men to have a moment alone.

“What the fuck?” Seungcheol whispered, looking around the tables to avoid dragging attention in. So he sat down.

Jeonghan returned to his seat too. “What?” he shrugged, pulling out his vape pen from his pocket.

“Why do you have the same girlfriend as Joshua?” as soon as the words left his mouth, Seungcheol grimaced.

“Because she is Joshua’s girlfriend,” Jeonghan replied with faux nonchalance, drawing a long stroke from his vape pen.

“Gimme that,” his friend gritted, yanking the vape pen from Jeonghan’s grip. “Jeonghan, I’m being serious,” he regained some control before asking: “Is she your girlfriend?”

Jeonghan exhaled slowly, trying to keep his heartbeat steady. “Yes, she really is my girlfriend,” he replied. “We’re both dating her.”

Seungcheol blinked, looking at his girlfriend in the distance walking alongside you. You both are looking quite friendly with each other, laughing, and chatting. “So, when you told me that you found someone, you meant…”

Jeonghan hated this, he hated to be open and vulnerable about his feelings. But this was Seungcheol. Jeonghan could not hide from him, and he did not want to.  “We’re all in a relationship, us three… It’s complicated,” he choked up a little, rolling his eyes to the sky. “I love her.”

For a moment, both men were lost in thought.

“Are you happy?” Seungcheol asked.

“I am,” he forced out. That was a lie; Jeonghan was not fully happy. There were somethings he still needed to figure out with you, with Joshua. But in that evening, he felt happy.

“That’s all I need to know,” Seungcheol sighed, pushing his hair back with one hand.

“Good,” Jeonghan agreed. “Can I have that back?”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes, giving the vape pen back. “You know, you’ve always been really weird, you and Joshua.”

This made Jeonghan tilt his head to one side “Weird how?”

Seungcheol shrugged. “I noticed it before but never said anything. When we get together, talking, or playing a game… something always made me think about it. It’s like you two share one mind. It’s creepy.”

“Pffft,” Jeonghan broke into a chuckle. “Alright.”

“What? You move at the same time, you finish each other’s sentences! It’s weird!” Seungcheol protested with a pout.

“Let’s order something to drink,” Jeonghan dismissed, raising one hand to motion for you to return to the table.

As soon as you sat down, you searched his face as he grabbed your hand again. You sent him a questioning look, subtly asking if everything was okay. Jeonghan laced his fingers with yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze with his hand.

And at that, the evening went on. Meeting his friends gave you another insight into his personality, and you were glad to find out that his friends were accepting of you. Soon, you felt a bit embarrassed for being so nervous before, as you realized that Seungcheol and his girlfriend were really understanding.

“Would you share a bottle of red wine with me?” you asked, reading the menu.

“I don’t know a thing about wines. But I trust you,” Jeonghan mumbled beside you. He chewed on his lip, absentmindedly mouthing the words his eyes were going over on the menu.

“You’re okay?” you asked discreetly beside him, darting a glance to the couple sitting across the table.

“Why do you ask?” he replied as quietly, shifting his gaze from the menu.

“You look worried,” you pointed, sending another swift glance. “Something happened?”

“Nah,” he discarded the idea at once. “I’m just thinking what to order, baby,” he said reassuringly, grabbing your hand to nibble at your knuckles with his lips.

“Let me order for you,” you offered, sweetening your voice involuntarily. “Something that goes with wine.”

His eyes triangulated to your own and your lips. “Alright, beautiful,” he smirked. “Impress me.”  

You gave him a badly coordinated wink. “I got you, handsome,” you said, laughing at yourself.

He shouldn’t lie to you, he reprimanded himself with a stab to his heart.

“Oh, shoot,” you muttered under your breath, getting your phone from your handbag. Jeonghan knew who it was before he even thought to glance at the screen. “I’ll be right back. Order, these,” you pointed with your finger at the menu, pressing the phone to your ear.

“O-okay,” he stuttered, watching you leave the table to take Joshua’s call.

Jeonghan hid his reaction behind the menu, but he knew Seungcheol was looking. The man was resting his chin on his hand, and Jeonghan wished that he just spoke what his eyes were trying to say. It would have been better that way, instead of suffering the weight of his dark gaze. 

But he ordered the bottle of wine and pasta that you pointed to before leaving.

The order arrived just as you were returning to your seat. Jeonghan made no question, no comment about Joshua’s call, like he usually did. But instead, he just grabbed your hand, giving it a comfortable squeeze before raising his wine glass and giving it a generous gulp.

Jeonghan made a face.

“What, you didn’t like it?” you asked, taking the glass of wine to your lips.

“It was just a big gulp,” he said with shame in his eyes.

“Small sippy sips,” you indicated, lifting a finger in a knowing expression.

Jeonghan laughed. “Sippy sips,” he repeated, giving you a nod before raising his glass at you. “You’re cute.”

You touched his glass with your own. “Try it again.”

Jeonghan took another sip cautiously, letting the rich taste of wine linger on his tongue as he savoured it. “It’s fine,” he decided, nodding approvingly.

“It’ll taste better with the food,” you pointed at his plate with your fork.

You ignored the two pairs of eyes watching your interaction with Jeonghan, smiling at him as he experimentally took a bite from his plate of pasta, chewing graciously and washing the flavours with the red wine.

“I like this,” he said contently, giving you a loving smile.

“See, I told you,” you replied in kind.

As the minutes passed, Jeonghan began to loosen up. His shoulders slacked, leaning back in his chair as he downed the first glass of wine and pouring himself another without you noticing. The warm glow of the lights above showed the light dewy layer of sweat on his forehead.

“Are you hot?” you asked innocently, setting your empty glass on the table, leaning towards him.

“You are hot,” he replied, breaking into a hearty chuckle.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes. “Not here.”

Choi Seungcheol lifted his head, frowning lightly at the pronounced sound of Jeonghan’s laughter, but made no comment. Jeonghan’s lucidity had started to wane, and only a keen eye like Seungcheol’s would notice.

“Let him have fun,” his girlfriend advised him, giving him a gentle nudge with her elbow.

Seungcheol nodded, visibly discarding his worry away with a light shaking of his head. “So… how did you two meet?”

Everyone on the table noticed that the question was good in nature, harmless, but indirectly putting you in a tight spot.

“Joshua introduced us,” you explained, ignoring the groan from the other two displeased parties. “He wanted me to meet his best friend.”

“How does it work?” Seungcheol asked, ignoring the more aggressive jab of his girlfriend’s elbow. “Sorry, I have to ask. I need to know.”

“It’s okay,” you assured. “I realize how this is confusing; it was for me too. But we just work it out. Make sure that it’s all fair for everyone in the relationship. It’s still all new but I’m glad we made this choice.”

Jeonghan placed a hand on your thigh in a subtle gesture of thanks. You eyed him, noticing the light glow in his face, the rosy cheeks, and lips.

“It seems like a difficult choice to make. How did you arrive at it?” now Seungcheol’s girlfriend asked, equally as curious. And you only understood it as them caring out for their friend.

“We had a threesome,” Jeonghan blurted, a bemused smile plastered on his face.

You realized too late, that as the night had worn on, Jeonghan’s demeanor had changed, from being rigid and nervous to being less coherent, and more reckless.

“You’re drunk,” Seungcheol sighed, dropping his forehead onto his palm at Jeonghan’s chuckles. He had been blunt in order to stop them from asking more questions.

“How much did you drink?” you asked him, taking in his flushed face, his glazy and unfocused eyes.

“I don’t know. A whole bottle, maybe,” he admitted with a slurry speech, a light frown on his sweaty face. “I’ll be right back.”

He grinned sheepishly as he excused himself from the table, walking disjointedly to the bathroom.

“I’ll take you home,” Seungcheol told you, motioning to a waiter to bring the bill.

“No, it’s okay,” you shook your head. “I’m okay, I can take his car.”

Seungcheol stilled, cocking one eyebrow at you. “He lets you drive his car,” he pouted sulkily, looking at his girlfriend. “He doesn’t even let me go near the wheel.”

“Come on,” you struggled to get the tall man through the hallway of his apartment, nearly dragging him into the marbled floors until you reached the master bathroom. You giggled nervously when his shoulder bumped against the doorframe, making him groan in pain.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he mumbled some seconds after, making you think that the alcohol had set deeper in him during the ride to his home.  

“Help me, Hannie,” you giggled at his clumsiness.

“Don’t you laugh, I’m drunk!” he pouted, his eyebrows pushed inwards in a cute frown.

“Sorry,” you sighed with a smile. “You’re a big baby,” you explained, groaning as you helped him sit down on the rim of the bathtub, you swiftly turned the shower on and kicked your heels to one corner of the big bathroom. Jeonghan languidly raised his head to follow your movements, tilting his head back to look up to see your face. “Let me take these off, okay?”

He blinked slowly, taking some seconds in to process your words, biting his lower lip, he nodded.

“Don’t get any ideas,” you whispered, but could not help to also mask your smirk as you worked to get his white shirt off.

Jeonghan smiled, giggling goofily. “Caught me,” he muttered, raising one hand to clutch your wrist, looking now at your arms working to get his clothes off. “You’re very beautiful.”

“Tha-thank you Jeonghan,” you awkwardly replied. “You're beautiful, too.”

That made him chuckle again, slowly, but it was a joyless laugh. “That’s not what you said earlier,” he muttered, raising his arms as you peeled the white tank top off his torso.

“Did I said something earlier?” you asked with genuine curiosity, making a gesture with your hands, motioning him to get to his feet, which he obediently did, but with paused movements.

“Don’t play coy with me,” he tilted his head to one side, his half-lidded eyes now lowered to find your face.

“I’m not,” you blinked, but noticing it was just playful and drunken banter, you continued to undress him. “I–I’m taking your pants off, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, his head bouncing and then he smiled shyly, bristling when your cold fingers slid on his belly, unhooking the waistband of his pants to push them down. “God, I’m so drunk. This is not how I pictured this night going. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you shook your head dismissively. “Are you okay though? Can you step in the shower?”

Jeonghan nodded, wordlessly moving to stand under the shower stream. He let his head hang forward lazily as he seemed to come back to life under the lukewarm water.

“Is the temperature right?” you asked, leaning against the wall, enjoying the sight of him standing upright, and tilt his head back, letting the water shower on his face fully.

His hands pushed his damp hair back, feet stumbling clumsily as he seemed to lose his balance for a second.

“Be careful,” you mumbled, quickly shuffling on your feet to ready yourself to lend him a hand if needed.

“I'm okay, I'm okay,” he tried to reassure you, but your brow did not relax. “I’d be better if you hop in here with me.”

“Jeonghan,” you said chastising.

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, nodding his head as he washed his face nearly methodically. When he was done, he looked around and said: “Can you pass me that towel?”

You should have known better, from the moment he did not seem to be shutting the tap off, you should have just waited but you dumbly grabbed the folded towel and handed it out to him.

Jeonghan was swift, grabbing you by your arm and pulling you in with such a strength that you nearly stumbled over his body.

“Jeonghan!” you squealed, awkwardly steading yourself before you made him stumble too.

But he seemed to be fine, laughing like a kid playing in the rain, his hands grabbed you firmly by your waist, pulling you to him so you were now pressed to his body.

“That’s better,” he whispered, making you stop in your attempt to step out of the shower and raised your eyes to him.

“You’re crazy,” you half scolded but could not continue suppressing your smile. “I don’t have a change of clothes,” you mumbled, being swiftly swept away by the beauty of the man in front of you.

Now you remembered. You had called him handsome. You called him in the same way you did to Joshua routinely and although he noticed your clear mishap, he liked it.  

“I can lend you something,” he replied, his voice was barely a mumble. “Will you stay here? With me? Please.”

You quickly understood what he was doing, playing the same cards you did on him when you wanted him to stay the night at yours. You smiled at him knowingly and he quickly returned your smile, although his was relaxed.

“Of course,” you whispered, eyelids fluttering repeatedly when Jeonghan swayed your body in a drunken motion, the shower stream washing over you, dampening your hair and dress.

“Good,” he mouthed, pressing a lazy kiss on your mouth. Then his hands moved from your waist to remove the pin from your head, releasing your hair.

“Jeonghan,” you called when he pressed desperate kisses on your lips, trailing down to your chin and then your neck, breathing heavily as if tired. “Hannie, let’s get you to bed.”

“Mmn, yeah, okay,” he sighed, but he did not stop kissing your neck, lips pressing quick kisses. But then in a movement, he lost his balance once again, his body stumbling over, pushing your back against the wall. “Oh, shit, shit. I’m sorry,” his hands held onto the wall to regain some balance.

“Let’s go,” you insisted, blindly finding the tap with one hand to shut it off.

You managed to slip the straps of your dress off, removing the soaked material from your body and stepped off the shower, grabbing the nearest towel from the hanger and wrapped your body, handing the bathrobe to the very drunk Jeonghan who just followed you with his gaze.

“You look troubled,” he mentioned, much as if he could not stop his mouth. “Am I overstepping?”

“No,” you immediately blurted. “No, Hannie, I’m just worried about you.”

“Don’t be,” he muttered, squaring his shoulders as he adjusted the knot of his bathrobe. “I can do this, I’m fine.”

Then he turned to leave the bathroom with a slow pace in his footsteps. “Jeonghan, wait,” you chuckled at his determination.

You followed him out of the bathroom, across his walk-in closet and to his bedroom. Where you were mildly surprised by the minimalism of the space occupied by a lonely king size bed. It was neatly made, the white covers folded by the hem, pillows fluffed.

Then you realized, Jeonghan had not spent a night at his place in a while. He had been spending night after night at yours, just sleeping and leaving the next day for work.

Jeonghan stood by one of the sides of the bed, clumsily getting on it with his hands and knees crawling to slump down on the pillows with a pleased groan.

Hesitant, you approached the other side of the bed, sitting beside his body, thinking that he had already fallen asleep. But he lifted one hand, blindly searching for your body. He first found your hand resting on your lap, then he palmed your thigh, right before he moved his head to rest it there.

“I’m sorry, this wasn't in my plans for tonight,” he mumbled, his cheek was tightly pressed against your towel covered lap, making his words partially muffled.

“It’s okay, Hannie,” you sighed, bringing a hand to caress his wet hair. “I’m beginning to think that you like being babied.”

He chuckled, his body vibrating slightly on his bed. “Yeah, maybe I do,” he replied, moving his face against your body to nuzzle you slightly. “But not like this. I wanted you to have a nice dinner.”

“I had fun tonight,” you replied with a sweet tone, feeling crushed when Jeonghan pouted, turning his head to see you face to face. “I thought your friends were nice.”

“Did you really?”

“Yes, of course,” you smiled at him. “Let me take care of you, yeah?” you muttered, his dreamy eyes blinking confusedly at you. “I’ll dry your hair and get you dry clothes, okay?”

Jeonghan took a long second before nodding with his head in a stiff motion. “Okay,” he conceded.

Once you got him to wear some clothes you found in his closet, he slipped underneath the heavy white bed sheets and covers, motioning you over to his side. Jeonghan was quiet, the kind of quietness that no longer felt welcoming, nor comfortable.

You unwrapped the towel before sliding to his side under the covers, thinking that he was about to fall asleep. But he raised his gaze at you, and your stomach twisted violently when you understood that there was a reason why he had been behaving like this.

“I want to be more than your best friend,” he whispered groggily, struggling to stay awake. “I want to matter to you as much as Joshua does.”

“Jeonghan, that's not what I meant,” you breathed, chest deflating painfully upon finding what the root of his erratic mood was. “I trust you.”

Jeonghan decided that it was best to wait to hatch this conversation again once he was sober. You waited for his answer, but instead, he was surrendering himself to the fatigue that was accentuated by the alcohol.

“Hannie,” you called, but he made no motion. “Talk to me, please,” you whispered, shaking under the stress of thinking that you had hurt him with your actions.  

“It’s nothing, baby,” he whispered languidly. He should open up before he gets worse, he told himself. But Jeonghan was not a person who would confess his feelings first. His ability to think coherently was almost completely gone, and he feared to say something he might regret the next day.

“Are you sure?”

“Let’s talk tomorrow. When I’m sober,” his hand came to your cheek, whispering a sorry when you bristled upon his cold contact.

“Yeah, okay,” you mouthed, wriggling closer to him, where he received you with a kiss on the crown of your head.

But you could not fall asleep at the same time he did. You watched him breathing slowly, his heavy eyelashes tremble in deep slumber. You kept your movements at minimum, as quietly as you could, admiring his beauty without him knowing.

When you could finally fall asleep, you adjusted in his welcoming embrace, letting yourself ease into his warmth and leaving your worries for the following morning.

Jeonghan groaned, waking up to a light, but throbbing headache. But you were buried beneath the bundles of white covers with him, peacefully asleep, your cheek squished by the hand you kept under it.

He remembered you tend to have a light-sleep when you wrapped your arms around his torso too. “Good morning, princess,” he whispered, sounding gruff.

Your arms tightened around him slightly before you moved your head back to lock eyes with him. You looked tired, but there was a calmness in your entire demeanor that Jeonghan knew that was not because of your recent sleep. It was something else.

His heart sank once again. Did he say something last night? What happened?

But you just pressed your lips against his, humming in delightfulness when he reciprocated the kiss. “I love you,” you whispered.

Shock, relief, joy. Elation. All coursed through him upon hearing you say those words. He knew just how much you had been overthinking, grappling with questions about fidelity, jealousy, hurt feelings and such. So, to hear you finally say it lifted a stone from his chest.

Jeonghan took one look to your face and smiled. “Well, look at that,” he whispered, teasing you. But he could not deny, he was over the moon pressing his smiling lips to yours repeatedly. “I love you too, princess.”

You smiled on his lips. “I'm in love with you,” you reaffirmed, almost as if it was relieving for you too to say it out loud.

Jeonghan laughed in your lips, shyly lifting a hand to cup your cheek. “I know,” he touched your forehead with his own. “I'm in love with you too. I have been for a while,” he whispered nervously.

“I know,” you giggled too. The truth was, whatever Jeonghan thought he felt, you felt it too.

“Mn, I know you do. You made me suffer a little,” he teased, his voice muffled by the closeness to which he kept his lips on yours, pressing them repeatedly.

“It wasn't on purpose, Jeonghan,” you replied with a remorseful tone, pausing the kisses to send you a saddened look.

“I'm joking, baby,” he cupped your cheek, moving his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I wanted to wait for you to be ready.”

“Thank you,” you whispered shakily, denoting on how much this still affected you on an emotional level. “I'm sorry I kept you waiting.”

“I'd do it all over again,” he assured, his eyes reading your facial features slowly, committing to keep the glint in your eyes in his memory.

“I never wanted you to feel shunned,” you confessed, feeling emboldened by the honesty in his eyes, the softness to which he welcomed you in his arms. “I'm still thinking of how to make this relationship fair for everybody.”

“But this is fair,” his brow furrowed slightly, lips pouting slightly as he spoke. “I just wanted to feel reciprocated.”

“I know,” you nodded slightly, still looking at him in his eyes, which had something in his chest fluttering crazily. “I took my time to realize that.”

“It's okay. And it's all better now,” he whispered, leaning so his forehead touched yours once again. “I know this is hard for you.”

You nodded again, taking a deep breath. “Having two boyfriends is difficult,” you confessed.

“Yeah, I imagine. And it must be doubly difficult if both boyfriends are possessive, clingy, and obsessive, right?” he conceded with the smallest of smiles. “Maybe you should leave the thinking on how to make this fair for you to Joshua and I.”

“Mn, that would be nice,” you muttered, but you were quickly swept away by the softness of his lips, the way he hummed in delight as you kissed him repeatedly.

Jeonghan sighed deeply, nearly shuddering with the ecstatic feeling coursing through his veins. “I love you,” he whispered.

Both of his hands came to cup your face, squeezing your cheeks as he pressed more loving kisses on your lips. It made you smile the way his kisses took on a more hurried speed, as if he were trying to convey all his adoration before combusting.

“I love you, Jeonghan,” you replied when he stopped for air, deciding to keep his forehead resting against yours.

“I needed this,” he mumbled in between kisses. “Needed you.”

“I know, baby,” you admitted. “Me too.” 

Your hands searched for him while keeping your lips latched onto his. You found his torso, sneaking beneath his t-shirt. This time, Jeonghan did not protest against your touch, he let you touch his torso freely, roaming the skin of his back with your fingertips. You swallowed one of his moans, shuddering against you. 

“We never finished watching that show,” you muttered aloofly as you continued giving him open mouthed kisses, almost as if you found it impossible to part from his lips, and he very much welcomed it.

“What show?” he hummed, equally aloof, his hands were already on you. A groan tore his chest when his hands found your bare skin and he remembered that he held your naked body through the night.

“Love Island, I think is,” you giggled nervously when his hands pulled you to him just as he turned on the bed, lying flat on his back, with you on top of him.

“You think?” he asked, but none of you were interested on the topic of conversation, you and Jeonghan were all about to keep touching each other, unable to stop the warm, open kisses. “I thought we did.”

“Mmn,” you breathed out as you placed your knees on each of his sides on the bed. “They released another season,” you said right before diving on his lips for a longer, deeper kiss.

“Mn,” his hand cupped your chin, keeping you close with his pointer and thumb on you. “Wanna watch it, baby?” he asked, but his voice had dropped to a low, raspy murmur.

“Yeah,” you breathed out aloofly, then realizing how your voice sounded, you giggled.

“Right now?” he paused, his sweet brown eyes scanning the features of your face swiftly.

“Sounds like you have a better plan,” you quipped, running the tip of your finger down one of his cheeks, a soft smile spreading on your lips when you realized the lascivious need glinting in his eyes.

“I might have one,” he replied, a shyness in his face revealing itself in a smile and he finally giggle, making you do that too.

“Of course you do,” you quipped.  

“Come here,” he whispered, pulling you with his hand already on your chin for a kiss.

With that, Jeonghan came to his resolve. He was in love with you. And he was determined to make this work with you. No matter what.

✮ author's note: hi hi hi hi there i really have nothing to say. i was thinking of explaining the dynamic between bunny and joshua, and her dynamic with jeonghan but i hope i did a good job of conveying that in this chapter so tell me what you guys think? hehe also, i want to thank you guys for showing me your love for this fic in the last chapter. i was losing purpose in writing and seeing you guys show this fic some love made me so happy. i thank you for staying and for being here on this journey with me. i love you all 🩵😭 anyways, toodles!! ✮ STAY TUNED FOR THE FIFTH CHAPTER!! ✮ JOIN MY TAGLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTERS | BUY ME A COFFEE? (●'◡'●) © RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[thinkinonsense]

I CAN SEE YOU✰

logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: curing, slightly nsfw, tiniest mention of blood

*mdni

wc: 900+

a/n: another one shot inspired by a song lmao. this time it is i can see you by taylor swift. thank you for all the love on my last one! this one is short n sweet too so i hope you enjoy <3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

It had been three years since you graduated from the school. Everyone was excited about your return. Storm and Scott picked you up from the train station downtown. It was an unexpected surprise when Professor Xavier reached out, asking you to teach for a semester. He has always been an important influence in your life; having brought you in as a troubled teenager. Being an X-Men changed your life for the better.

"You are going to love all the new students!" Storm smiles, helping Scott and you carry in your bags.

"I can't wait to meet them!"

Once everything was inside, you headed upstairs to your old room with a suitcase in hand. The room was located on the farthest end of the mansion, which was secluded and quiet; away from all the chaos. You never would've guessed what was on the other side of the door.

"Do you mind?"

There, lying in your old bed, a scruffy, annoyed, attractive man who looked double your age, smoking a cigar on his back. You freeze drinking in his appearance.

Who the hell was this man in your room?

"This is my room." You question if you opened the wrong door or took a left instead of a right. Nope, that was your old bookshelf and bedframe.

"I'm pretty sure this is my room." He replies, cocking his head to the side.

"No, you're in my bed." You bite back, growing more irritated with the stranger.

"This is my bed, sweetheart." He glares at you while his eyes linger down your figure.

He found your angered expression adorable. The way your nose scrunched a little and your hand found its way onto your hip. Your pretty short black skirt captivated him. If it wasn't for the stick up your ass, he would've been more than willing to let you stay in his bedroom.

"That's my bookshelf!" You pointed out. "And that is my bedframe!"

"Well, if that's the case, you need a new bedframe." His voice drops in a way that makes your stomach turn in a dangerous yet delicious way.

A small gasp leaves your mouth before you can catch yourself. Not wanting to see that stupid smirk on his face, you whip your head around and stomp downstairs to Professor Xaviers' office.

✰

It's been weeks since your first encounter with Logan. Ever since you had to move to a new room, you've avoided him at all costs. If what Scott has told you is any truth of Logan's character, then you knew he was trouble.

Despite your attempts to stay far away from him, Logan had other plans. Caught in every corner; stuck at every turn, he managed to capture you. He would go out of his way to brush past you in hallways. Even in crowded rooms, his eyes shamelessly burned holes into you.

The worst of it was when he would sit in during your lectures. Half of your mind focused on the lesson while the other half ran wild with the thought of him watching you.

If you weren't careful, you would cave.

Which was exactly what Logan wanted. He knew it was wrong to need you as badly as he did. You were so much younger than him yet you pranced around the mansion like you knew everything. He didn't want Charles to know about the feelings string inside of him. You had barely been gone three years, there's so much you hadn't experienced yet. The last thing anyone wanted was for Logan to taint you.

✰

On Friday nights you would stay in your classroom grading papers until the early morning hours. This Friday was no exception. It was almost two am when you scribbled a B+ on the final stack of papers. You stood up, leaving all your belongings in the classroom until Monday morning; desperately wanting to be in bed. Once you locked the door and turned down the hallway, you saw him coming up the stairs.

"What do you want, Mister. Howlett?" You glare at him. Logan's eyes darkened at the way you addressed him.

For such a mouthy girl, you did have some manners.

"You've been avoiding me." He states, following closely behind you. The clothing you wore drove him insane. Tight tops, unbelievably short skirts, and dresses. If Logan could die, he's sure it would've been at your hands.

"You've noticed? I figured you would have been too busy getting rejected by Jean to care."

The comment was supposed to sting painfully for him; instead, it backfired on you.

Of course, you noticed the way he shamelessly flirted with the redhead. It plagued your mind ever since you saw it happen with your own eyes. The way he gawked at her unapologetically, even with her boyfriend present. You would never admit it but it made you bitter, to say the least.

"Oh, I see..." Logan smirks.

"See what?"

"I can see you." His words make you freeze up. "You're jealous."

You roll your head back and laugh at his accusation; despite the truth it held.

Without hesitation, Logan grabs your hips and pins you up against the wall. You whine as your back makes contact with the cold grey wall. His grip tightens at the noise you let out.

"Not only can I see the effect I have on you..." Logan's voice is rough against the shell of your ear. "I can hear and smell it, sweetheart."

A flush of red creeps its way up your pretty face in the low light. Logan groans when he pulls back and sees it for himself. The second you are face-to-face, you pull him. A rush of teeth clashing into each other messily. One of your hands rests on his jaw while the other knotted itself in his hair. Logan's right hand slides up your thigh and under your skirt as he picks you up. You bite and tug on his lower lip; until you can taste the tiniest bit of blood. Both of you were desperate for each other.

"My room." You mumble against his lips. Logan chuckles, knowing that the only room on this side of the mansion is his current bedroom.

This will have to be your little secret.

[soshirohoshinasimp]

Cheeky Bastards.

Summary: Your sons, are even more cheekier than your husband (soshiro hoshina)

Word Count :  600

Cheeky Bastards.

That's what Soshiro Hoshina dubbed your two sons. It was hard to deny the resemblance—they were like miniature copies of your husband, complete with his mischievous smile and sharp wit.

But why "Cheeky Bastards"? Even at their tender age of five, they knew exactly how to rile up their father. Whenever Soshiro returned home weary from work, hoping for a moment with you, the boys would demand their mother's attention, leaving him sidelined. It frustrated him to no end.

What really got under his skin was their triumphant smirk whenever they got their way—those moments when they clearly thought, "I win again."

Cheeky Bastards. 

One day, Soshiro decided to have a serious talk with them.

"Boys, listen here," he began, his tone firm as he knelt down to their eye level.

Your sons tilted their heads curiously.

"We need to learn to share, especially Mama's attention," he explained.

They snickered in response, shaking their heads defiantly.

"Why should we, old man?" the older one retorted cheekily.

In a daring move, both boys simultaneously nipped at his shoulder.

"You little shits!" he exclaimed, taken aback.

Their sudden tears caught your attention from the adjacent bedroom you shared with Soshiro.

"Are you alright?" you asked, picking them up, one in each arm.

The younger one whimpered, "Papa yelled..." 

You scolded Soshiro, reminding him how much they disliked raised voices.

"Honey, they fucking bit my shoulder!" he defended himself.

"Watch your language," you chided gently.

As you lectured your husband, your sons' tear-streaked faces broke into identical mischievous grins.

"Cheeky Bastards," Soshiro muttered under his breath.

Days passed, and despite Soshiro's attempts to bond with them, the boys seemed to revel in their little games. They would steal his snacks, hide his belongings, and even mimic his gestures with uncanny accuracy. It was both infuriating and endearing.

One evening, after a particularly exhausting day at work, Soshiro returned home hoping for a quiet moment with you. As he approached you for a hug, the boys intervened, demanding a piggyback ride from their mother instead. Soshiro's heart sank as they giggled gleefully, clinging to you like little monkeys.

Defeated, he slumped onto the couch, resigned to watching a children's cartoon with them while you prepared dinner. But as the evening wore on, something unexpected happened. One of the boys tugged at his sleeve and offered him a half-eaten cookie with a mischievous grin.

"Sorry for being mean…Papa," the younger one said shyly.

"Yeah, sorry, Papa," echoed the older one, holding out his hand to shake.

Soshiro was taken aback. It was the first time they had acknowledged their antics without a trace of defiance.

He tousled their hair affectionately, feeling a surge of warmth despite his earlier frustration.

"It's alright, boys," he said softly. "Just remember, Mama and Papa both love you very much."

The boys exchanged a glance, their mischievous smiles returning for a brief moment before they hugged him tightly.

From then on, while they remained mischievous and full of energy, there was a newfound understanding between Soshiro and his sons. They learned to share Mama's attention more graciously, and Soshiro found himself cherishing those moments when they would climb onto his lap, fangs and all, with that familiar cheeky grin.

"Cheeky Bastards," he would chuckle, a hint of pride in his voice.

Bonus: 

“Did you apologize to your father?” You said to both your boys

“Yes mama!” they said in unison, obediently. 

[scarletcomalies]

soul bounds entwined

Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

Part I, Part III

Word count: 5,248

Warnings: 18+ content, brief masturbation, confrontation, groping, emotional manipulation, brief degrading, edging, angst. Also, Reader kinda uses Billy.

A/N: Oh, my! This was supposed to be second and last part but I'm sorry, I'm leaving the best part in suspense. Thank you 3000 for the support you've given to this little series so far ❤️ See you in part III!

The more you get involved into Wanda Maximoff's life, the more you find yourself increasingly drawn to the woman. Through a series of interactions during family activities, intense romantic and sexual tension develops, culminating in a dramatic confrontation where hidden feelings are exposed.

You met Kate Bishop at High School, a few yesterdays ago. She opened the door for you to photograph galas, events, or photoshoots that her mother, Eleanor Bishop, occasionally participated in. Eleanor only agreed to please her stubborn daughter, who would have hired you regardless.

Despite your young age at the time, you were able to demonstrate to Eleanor -and several others- your almost innate ability to capture the precise peak of every instant. It was as if you had a sixth sense that told you exactly when to pick up your camera and press the button.

You were never more grateful for that gift than when you spotted the figure of Wanda Maximoff hitting the neon green sphere with her racket, so steadily, yet with such elegance that it could easily pass for a dance sequence. That was her, a being who radiated beauty even without trying.

You were barely at the middle landing of the stairs that would lead you to that woman you so longed for, her green eyes had not yet settled on you, for her attention was directed to her opponent. Oh, but she had your full and undivided attention, every action on her part being meticulously scrutinized.

When the redhead was defeated by her son, she let out a sigh of defeat, and moved to pick up the tennis ball that hit the wire and rolled a few meters away from her. It was at the moment when she threw it up, ready to take the first hit, that you pressed the capture button of your old Polaroid camera, which would be your accomplice in freezing that moment inside the piece of zink paper.

You shook the cartridge impatiently, the minutes feeling like hours for the image to be developed. And hell, was it worth the wait, for your eyes were delighted in return.

In your hands was a photograph that only you would have at your mercy, and you couldn't help but consider it a form of unparalleled intimacy that condemned you to an addiction.

Wanda Maximoff with the ball hovering in the air, looking up at said object with her full lips half-open, her racket at shoulder height. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, some of it beginning to stick to her forehead from the sweat that was beginning to be present. She wore a white pleated skirt like yours, and a light blue polo shirt with three buttons open, revealing just a little bit of her collarbone.

You stared at the photograph for who knows how long, the hours feeling like minutes this time.

"(Y/N)! You made it!" The distant voice of your now muse snapped you out of your trance, and you quickly shoved the photograph in your bag. With quick steps, you descended the remaining stairs and walked to where the awaiting family stood.

"I made it," you replied with a smile.

"And you look..." Wanda began the sentence, looking you up and down, repeating the action twice. However, she concluded it with a sigh.

"You look beautiful," Billy completed it. Despite the fact that he vocalized a complete word, a prolonged intake of breath followed by an exhale, held more meaning for you because it came from the woman before you.

"Completely," Wanda confirmed, grinning at you from ear to ear. "That skirt really suits you. You should show off those legs more often."

"Oh, thank you..." your breath hitched, and you felt as if all the blood in your body lost the ability to distribute itself, landing in your cheeks alone, the impact of her words taking on a peculiar dark pink hue.

"Billy, you pull," Wanda said, and that's when you realized he hadn't taken his eyes off you. His perennial stare was undetectable for you as long as his mother was present. "And (Y/N), go sit next to Tommy, feel free to order food or drinks. I'll teach you how to play as soon as we finish this round."

You found yourself nodding quickly, like a submissive and obedient puppy who didn't let out a word and complied to whatever she said.

Tommy greeted you with a tight-lipped smile. Between the two brothers, you found it easier to relax around Tommy. While you preferred Billy, you always had to be on guard against his suggestive remarks, which hindered your ability to fully enjoy his company. On the other hand, Tommy's voice held no hidden intentions, only friendliness at its best despite his reserved countenance.

"Did you play yet?" You asked him, noticing that his hair was still perfectly combed, with no sign of movement or activity.

"No, when my mom teaches you, I'll be your opponent," he replied.

"Then it'll be an easy win," you chuckled, making him laugh back.

"Don't worry, I won't be hard on you..."

"I meant easy win for me," you corrected, eliciting a surprised gasp from him, making you laugh even harder.

"Ah! Is this how things are gonna be between us? Okay, okay," he joked, feigning offense.

"Okay, Billy, rest," you heard Wanda say, once he lost to her.

With quiet gasps, he walked over to the table where you were seated next to Tommy. He reached for the cold water bottle that was resting across from you. He appeared to be upset, and you assumed it was because he lost, not because he witnessed your interaction with his brother.

"Mom, I want to be the one on the other side when you teach (Y/N)," he spoke, after placing the water bottle on the table.

"What?" Tommy exclaimed. "No way, dude. You played the hell out of it, it's my turn."

Before Billy could counter, Wanda interfered, "You wanted to play first, now it's your brother's turn."

Billy snorted, and sat on the chair, pulling his phone out of his bag.

Wanda signaled for you to follow her, and again, you walked behind her obediently, stopping where she indicated. Tommy positioned himself on the opposite side, stretching out his arms.

"All right, ready?" Wanda asked, handing you her racket. When you took it, you were surprised to see that it was heavier than she made it seem. The way she was handling it earlier made you think it would be featherlight.

"Yeah, ready," you could only hope that you would at least look your best while failing at trying to play the sport.

You let out a small gasp as she suddenly positioned herself behind you, her front pressed against your back. A stream of torturous cold sweat invaded every corner of your body as you forced yourself to keep your sanity.

"We're here to have fun, not the international tennis league," she said, guiding your arm with the racket at the appropiate height. "That said, don't worry if you don't get it perfect on the first try, okay?"

"Sure," you nodded, taking a deep breath. Maybe she noticed your nervousness, and thought it was due to the circumstances, when really, that became irrelevant to you when her body was pressed behind you.

"Take it firmly, with two arms or with one, whichever you feel better," she continued, and you opted for the second option, this being the one that would give you the most freedom if you needed momentum and fluidity.

Noting your choice, she added, "Good. I advice you to use your whole forearm. You're a beginner, this thing is heavy, and we don't want your wrist to dislocate."

"Oh, I was thinking of doing that anyway," you laughed. Using your wrist alone with such a heavy artefact would affect you considerably. She was right.

Wanda laughed softly, her breath colliding against your ear as she did so.

"Now, legs, they need to be apart and parallel," she continued, grabbing the inside of your right leg, a little above your knee, and positioned it in front of hers, so that you mimicked the distance she had. "Like this, good girl."

You swallowed dryly.

You weren't sure if she was simply too trusting or if, in your wildest dreams, she really wanted to bewilder you and have you under her spell.

"Finally, don't be too rigid. Let your body follow its course every time you stroke," she withdrew from behind you, and you felt the emptiness of her closeness linger on you. "Let the movements flow. But keep your posture as straight as you can."

"Noted, I got it."

At first, every time Tommy threw the ball at you, it seemed to take on a life of its own when you hit back. It bounced off the net, or to the side, out of your reach. Frustrated, you looked to Wanda, for help.

"Don't be discouraged, (Y/N). You just need to adjust your position and the angle of your racket a little,” Wanda said, approaching you.

She stood behind you once again, and gently guided your arm, showing you how to hit the ball. “Try to keep your eyes on it and bend your knees a bit for stability.”

Tommy threw again, and this time the ball came closer to you. With Wanda's help, you managed to hit it well, sending it straight towards where Tommy was standing.

“Well done!” Tommy exclaimed, surprised.

Wanda smiled, “Now you try it on your own, (Y/N)."

You took a deep breath and prepared for Tommy's next pitch. This time, you concentrated on following the trajectory of the ball and positioned your racket at the right angle.

You did it! The ball landed right where Tommy was expecting it.

“Excellent, you're catching it fast!” Said Tommy, excited. “I think you'll soon be an ace.”

Little by little, Wanda let you manage the game on your own, intervening only occasionally with advice. Your strokes became more and more precise and powerful, and Tommy had to work harder to keep up.

Wanda no longer considered it necessary to offer you her help, so she sat at the table next to Billy, with dark sunglasses covering her gaze, and although you had decided not to turn around to avoid distractions, her penetrating gaze was able to pierce through every fiber of your being.

You could feel her intense and overwhelming presence, as if a magnetic force pulled you towards her. Your heart was beating with desperation, wishing to turn your head and gaze at her beauty, but you knew you had to maintain focus and not be too obvious.

In the ninth round, Tommy failed to reach the ball and hit the shot needed to keep the streak going, so you decided to suggest to take a break instead of continuing to play. He agreed, and the two of you headed over to the table where Wanda and Billy were.

“I ordered some cold water and snacks,’ Wanda announced, pointing to the tray that contained them.

“Oh, thank you very much,” you replied with a smile. After all the physical activity, the thought of having some cold water was like heaven.

When you sat down, Billy looked away from his phone and smiled at you before placing it face down on the table.

He was about to say something when his brother joined you at the table. "You're a natural, (Y/N)! I must admit, I let you win at first to cheer you on, but then I had a hard time catching up,” he praised you as he picked up a bottle of water and drank almost half of it. In a way, you were grateful for that interruption, as it saved you from having to deal with Billy's corny flirtations.

“Yeah, you were awesome,” Billy added, bummed that maybe Tommy took the words right out of his mouth.

“Thanks, guys,” you replied with a smile. “I had the best teacher, giving me the push I needed,” you turned to Wanda, pining for the older woman's attention again.

And you did, when she leaned a little closer to you and said softly, “Oh, honey, and I had the best student,” she winked at you from under her shades, which you could see through the sunlight.

Billy sat next to you, trying to look gallant. “Well, you know, I could give you a ‘push’ too if you wanted one. What do you say, gorgeous?” He said with a crooked grin.

You couldn't help but laugh at Billy's awkward flirtation.

Wanda shot Billy a stern look. "All right, lover boy, you've got your energy back.

Time for you and me to play a little,” she interferred, taking his hand and pulling him away from you.

Tommy, who watched the interaction, rolled his eyes playfully and sat next to you.

"Forgive my brother," he apologized. "You're the first girl he's ever liked, and he has zero experience in how to behave with one."

You brushed it off with a little wave of your hand.

If he wasn't so charismatic, you probably would have cut ties with him... or maybe that's what you forced yourself to believe, because by being around him, you had opportunities like this, to share with his mother beyond work issues.

"What about you, any person who caught your eye?" you questioned.

"There is a guy, David, yes..." he confirmed, causing you to reposition your chair to turn towards him, showing interest. He laughed softly at your action. "I won't elaborate."

"Tommy, Tommy, Tommy," you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, shaking your head. "I'm a gossip enthusiast, and you can't tell me about a guy without blurting out more details," you replied, but realized that perhaps, it was best to respect his decision. "But it's okay. I understand if you decide not to share. I won't force you."

He sighed, "It's just... everything that shapes me as a person; my hobbies, my passions, my career, my internship, I share with my brother," he shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, I adore him madly. But at least, this is very much my own thing," he sighed a second time, louder this time, watching his brother, who was occasionally observing the interaction, but redirecting his focus to the game.

“I totally understand," you nodded. It was often the case that with a pair of twins, it was more usual to share common grounds and live together almost as if they were one person in two bodies. Sooner or later, there came that desire for individualism, which Tommy found in keeping aspects of his life to himself. "I'm so glad that you are in that process of detaching from your brother and forming your own path, as your own person."

"Sure as hell I am," he giggled. "I have my own friends, I had a girlfriend named Lisa for a while," he continued. "About both, Billy constantly commented on, whining about why I managed to fit in at college and he didn't, what I had that he didn't. And it was always my duty to comfort him," his expression took on a lingering hint of annoyance.

“Must've been so hard to always be the one comforting him, especially when you were just trying to enjoy your own life and relationships,” you nodded with sympathy.

Now you understood why Billy seemed to want to hog your attention, and was so annoyed when Tommy, with his extroverted nature struck up a conversation with you. Billy felt like he was constantly in Tommy's shadow, always comparing himself and feeling inadequate. He craved validation and reassurance, seeking comfort in your friendship whenever he felt overshadowed. You were the only person he was starting to form bonds with besides his brother and mother.

"It may sound selfish, not to have included my brother to my group of friends when many do that."

"No," you replied firmly. "As you said earlier, it's your own thing."

"Thank you... that's what my mother tells me," he confessed, and you were glad to know that the redhead was comprehensive in that regard. "She's a twin too, so she understands the dynamics of having a close sibling relationship while still needing your own space and identity. She ended up being way different than her brother, but both were happy for each other.”

You knew about her brother, Pietro Maximoff, that he died when the Avengers fought Ultron in Sokovia. You saw it in one video of ‘50 things you didn't know about Wanda Maximoff’, at 3AM when you couldn't mitigate the intrigue she left.

And from all that you learned, not only was she talented and charismatic, she also carried a profound strength in her heart, from which she emerged stronger. She was now enjoying the empire she built with the stones life threw at her… quite literally, the mind stone.

"If Billy isn't happy for you, his emotions are not his responsibility," you stated. "In fact, nothing regarding him is your responsibility. You enjoy what you were able to attract into your life."

"Thank you, I'm glad someone is reassuring me that I'm on the right track," he replied, pulling a bag of chips that was resting on the tray. He gestured you to grab one as well, so you did. "A few months after my first breakup, I developed this crush on a girl named Kate, and he never knew. It was refreshing, keeping it to myself, without Billy turning it back on him and how much he hated not even having a girl he liked."

"And what happened between you and this girl, Kate?"

"Oh, well, it was pathetically movie-like," he chuckled. "After crushing from afar, I saw her outside campus. I was very determined, walking towards her to say hi, when a blonde girl came on a bike, got off and went to kiss her. So I stepped back.”

"Wait... isn't that Kate Bishop by any chance?" You asked, the first name, college and blonde girlfriend being enough characteristics that fit your best friend.

"Yes! Kate Bishop!" He confirmed, surprised. "No way... do you know her?"

You let out a laugh at the coincidence, shaking your head softly in disbelief.

"She's my best friend since high school," you nodded.

"Oh, shut up!" He exclaimed loudly. "There is no way!"

Wanda Maximoff's son, studying at the same university as your best friend, Kate, who he used to have a crush on.

Kate, whose girlfriend, Yelena Belova, was the younger sister of Natasha Romanoff, one of the Avengers, of which Wanda Maximoff was a member until the Sokovia Accords marked a new beginning in her career.

All this time, you were closer to Wanda than you thought.

Billy noticed the friendly and amusing exchange between you and Tommy, so he proceeded to purposely miss on the present round, with the excuse to approach the table again where the two of you were.

"What's so funny?" He asked, so innocently, you thought, because you were so oblivious to the look on his face at every single thing you were doing.

Wanda followed him.

Evidently, she wasn't born yesterday, and she knew she had to be on the lookout to intervene in any recklessness, a product of that jealousy you were already aware of, that he was experiencing towards his twin brother. It was funny, nevertheless, that he thought he had to compete against his brother for your attention, when truly, it was her mother the one and only threat.

"Oh, (Y/N) has a best friend, Kate Bishop, who studies at our university. I've seen her a couple of times," Tommy explained. "We were just laughing about how small New York is."

Billy nodded slowly, arching his eyebrows.

"That's so funny!" Wanda spoke, a smile plastered on her face, instantly melting you. Whenever she did so, her nose scrunched a little in the process, and some dimples on her cheeks made themselves present.

Oh, how you longed for her to be so close to you, sharing gestures and glances that seemed to connect you both in a unique way. Yes, they may have been mere human interactions, but you treasured each of those little things, those details that, to the eyes of others, might go unnoticed.

"Actually, her girlfriend, I'm sure you know her," you replied to the older woman. "She's Natasha's younger sister, Yelena."

"Noooooo!" It was her turn to be surprised and laugh, just like you and Tommy were a few minutes ago.

"I know! Unbelievable!" You responded, her laughter contaging you like a deadly virus.

"Yelena, I've met her a couple of times,” she recalled. “When we have one of those friendly get-togethers at the compound, I've had the chance to see her twice or thrice," Wanda commented to you, and seemed to think for a moment. "Hey, next time, you and Kate should join us. Since you and I aren't strangers anymore, and Kate seems to be familiar with the rest of the team."

You laughed instantly, remembering the anecdote of Kate meeting her idol, Clint Barton, for the first time.

"I'm serious, darling," Wanda stated, probably believing that your little giggle was due to disbelief and not the memory that popped into your mind.

"Oh, no, it's just… I remembered how pale Kate looked when Yelena took her to meet Natasha, unbeknownst to her that Clint would be there too," you clarified.

Yelena had invited Kate to a restaurant a little way out of town, in order to introduce her to her sister, Natasha. Things between them had already become serious like that.

Your best friend was a nervous wreck before Yelena picked her up, repeatedly stating that she was not mentally prepared to meet Natasha Romanoff, whom she also admired. She was in for a big surprise, when not only was Black Widow waiting for them, but Hawkeye as well.

You expected to receive a text, or at most a phone call with all the details. However, hours later, the couple arrived at your flat. Yelena walking hand in hand with a completely mesmerized and shocked Kate, with a lost gaze and unable to spill a single word.

"Wow, I can only imagine..." Wanda mused, empathizing with your best friend's feelings at such an experience. As she sat down across from you with a clear determination to continue the conversation, you couldn't help but feel a surge of triumph. It was then that you regained awareness of your surroundings and realized that the twins had left you alone who knows how long ago, opting to play a round together instead. “But seriously, I would love it if you came.”

Wanda Maximoff: (Pauses).

Tommy Maximoff: That’s… (sighs) that’s when the incident happened.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N): Did Tommy say that? (laughs) No, the incident was always that Billy started to get the wrong ideas. Of course, I didn't have the heart to reject him, but I gave very clear signals. At the compound, that’s where it ended.

Tommy Maximoff: There is no worse blind than the one who does not want to see.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N): I always carry my Polaroid camera with me, no matter where I go. I am fascinated by being able to capture the important moments of my life with that particular photographic style and store them in a special album of memories. Maybe it sounds old-fashioned, but over the years, you realize the almost magical power that photographs have to transport you back to those frozen moments in time. Pressing the shutter button at that country club became a sort of curse, as I couldn't help but yearn to be teleported back over and over to those unforgettable moments with her.

When you finished working with Wanda, you already had a large number of photographs of her. A collection, you could call it at this point.

You didn't pass up the opportunity to take pictures in every corner of the tennis court, every time she and Billy played together, and you'd even have more if you'd taken pictures when she played against Tommy as well, but you didn't want to expose him to a jealous feud with Billy.

Likewise, you were more than content with the other occasions; like your personal favorites, the family dinners at which you were frequently included. After the food was served, you proceeded to ask the three of them to pose before eating, just so you could have the privilege of watching that gorgeous face for as many seconds as you wanted later at night.

It always amused you to see him smiling in all the photos, so flattered thinking that he was the one you wanted to immortalize in the memories.

The end justified the means, right?

You let out a small gasp, arching your back in pleasure when, as you stilled your needy entrance, you grabbed another photograph, the bonfire photograph...

"Oh, Wanda!" you moaned, feeling your climax about to burst, clenching around your own fingers.

"Why is it that you only take pictures of Billy when I'm around?" Wanda confronted you, once the twins went to sleep. A great day at their University awaited the next day, unlike Wanda and you, who could stay awake as long as you wanted.

Wanda occasionally held bonfires in the garden of her house. She cordially invited you to join them, and after a few minutes, you were all dressed up and on your way to her house, when you were already comfortable in your pajamas, ready to get into your bed.

And once you were alone, she placed her chair in front of yours, and asked you that question that caught you off guard. You had just taken a picture of her with the twins before they left.

"What?" You exclaimed, pretending to be clueless to buy yourself more time to come up with an excuse.

"Or better yet, why don’t you ever accept seeing Billy exclusively? Only when I'm present," she repeated, leaning towards you.

The air thickened around you, each breath torturous as if you were inhaling the very essence of your dread. Your heart pounded, a relentless drum echoing in the cavern of your chest, each beat reverberating through your bones and threatening to shatter your composure.

"I want Billy as a friend, I don't want me accepting outings or taking pictures of him alone to get him more excited than he probably is," you replied, almost all in one breath.

Wanda's eyes narrowed, her gaze piercing through your weak defenses, "Are you sure that's the only reason, (Y/N)? Or is there something else you're not telling me?"

You felt exposed, as if she could see right through your clumsy excuses.

"I... I don't want to give him false hope," you hesitated, trying to maintain your composure.

"False hope?" Wanda scoffed, her tone full of skepticism. "Then, why taking those pictures in the first place? Who do you wanna see, hm?"

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing by the second. "It's… memories," you protested, but the conviction in your voice was waning.

Wanda tilted her head, scrutinizing you with a mix of frustration and something else you couldn't quite place.

"Bullshit!” She exclaimed. “Why do you always make sure I'm around? Is it because you need a buffer? Or is it because you're more interested in someone else?”

Her words were heavy and loaded with implication. Your mind struggled to form a coherent response, but the truth was clawing its way to the surface, threatening to break free.

“I...-"

She didn't let you finish, "Is it me?" She insisted. "Are you using Billy to get closer to me?"

"Wanda, please, it's not like that," you pleaded, but her words had struck a nerve. She could sense it, therefore, she leaned in even closer, her lips almost brushing your ear. You felt your skin reacting through goosebumps immediately.

"Stop lying. You think I can't see through you, like my son? You're pathetic, hiding behind your excuses. If you have something to say, say it now," she hissed, her breath hot against your skin.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat almost choking you.

"No, nothing..." you stammered, but the words wouldn't come.

Wanda's grip on your knee tightened further, her nails digging into your skin.

"You're infuriating. If you can't even be honest with yourself, how do you expect to be honest with anyone else?" She said, her voice a low growl.

“I… I better go,” was all you managed to respond. You never realized how weak you were until the Wanda Maximoff was so close to you, forcing you to face the consequences of your impulsive and not-so-wise acts.

Her eyes glinted with a dangerous determination. She wasn't going to let you off the hook so easily. Her hand slid from your knee up to your thigh, keeping you in place.

"You think you can keep hiding? From me?" Her voice was a seductive murmur that sent shivers down your spine.

You tried to pull away, but her grip tightened. "Wanda, please," you whispered, your voice trembling. You refused to do this at all costs, even though it was what you deserved.

"No more lies. I want the truth, and I'm going to get it," her other hand moved to your waist, pulling you even closer to her.

Your heart pounded wildly, your body not knowing whether to tremble of fear and desire.

"I... I don't know what you want me to say," you stammered, trying to keep your composure.

Wanda's hand moved higher up your thigh, her nails lightly grazing your skin through the fabric. "Oh, but you do," she countered. "You're scared, aren't you? Scared of what you feel. Scared of what I might do if you admit it. So scared that my poor, poor son has to suffer from your cowardice."

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat almost choking you.

"No, it’s..." you began.

And once again, she didn't give you a chance to finish. Her hand moved to your chin, tilting your face up so you were forced to meet her gaze.

"Look at me, darling. I want to see your eyes when you tell me the truth," she demanded, her voice a low growl.

Your eyes met hers, and the intensity of her green orbes was almost too much to bear.

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision.

"I... I can't," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Wanda's grip on your chin tightened, her nails digging into your skin. "Yes, you can. And you will," she insisted, her voice brooking no argument. Her other hand moved between your legs, pressing your core with a tight squeeze, making you yelp and let the first few tears spill out of your eyes. You felt so helpless, regretting every life decision that led you to this very instant.

"Do you want me?" She questioned, with a voice so firm it sounded more like a statement.

"Yes," you finally admitted.

Wanda's eyes shone with satisfaction, "Oh, my good girl. That's all I needed to hear," she murmured, her lips brushing against yours.

Her hand moved from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you into a searing kiss that left you breathless. You could only describe it intense and fervorous, her tongue exploring every inch of your mouth, without even asking for permission. Just taking you as if she had always owned you, and maybe, she did.

Just as you were about to lose yourself in her lips, Wanda abruptly pulled away, leaving you gasping for air.

"This is your punishment for toying with my son's feelings," she established. "You don't get to have me, not after what you've done. Now go."

[heystephen]

hi guys i know this is kind of a big ask so im going to try to elaborate as many details as i can even if many of them are painful and private and i do want to give a content warning for mentions of animal injury and abuse

as some of you know, my sister is an addict and i am currently estranged from her. about a month and a half ago, her dog was abandoned at a rescue that partners with the animal shelter i volunteer at, tied up to their front door in the middle of the night with injuries that are presumed to be from being struck by a car.. severe road rash on his legs and paws and bruising, thankfully nothing broken. he received some medical treatment and was transferred to the shelter i volunteer at. during this time, my sister did not attempt to reclaim her dog and i assumed responsibility for him at an expense i and my family wasn’t exactly prepared for. due to his age and his illness and injuries, he would not have been a fit adoption candidate but i did not feel that he was ready for euthanasia. he is a good dog, still full of life and still making every effort to keep going, and he’s so deserving of spending his remaining time here comfortably despite what he has been through the past several months. the truth is, he has been abused and severely neglected. my brother in law knocked several of the dog’s teeth out and broke them (he is currently in jail), and both he and my sister were aware of the dog’s kidney disease but did not seek medical treatment for him and often allowed the dog to go days without food or water.

at this time, he needs further vet care; antibiotics, pain medication, treatment for his anxiety, medicated baths, and prescription dog food for his kidney disease. a family friend created a gfm to help us with these expenses and im asking y’all to help or share this anywhere you can, if you can. he has a long way to go but he’s not giving up yet. 🩵 if you have any questions or any details you want verified, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask and i will do my best to get back to you quickly!!

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-steve-heal-support-his-medical-care?attribution_id=sl:d1bb7b4e-4220-4912-8a93-8c32f23dcf55&utm_campaign=man_sharesheet_dash&utm_medium=customer&utm_source=copy_link

[luvinescent]

Entangled Fates

Pairing: Robb Stark x fem!Targaryen!Reader

Summary: The Targaryen name has brought nothing but misery to Y/N— her half-blood placing a curse upon her. She's observed the toll her presence takes on the people she loves; no longer wanting to form a close tie with anyone. Nevertheless, her heart steered its own course. And it steered towards a certain man.

Warnings: angst. allusion to r*pe and death, nothing descriptive. a steamy make-out scene but nothing crazy. not really book or show accurate but f it we ball. also fluff. also reader has dark hair so just pretend u do if u don't xoxo.

Word count: 10.1K (beginning just has lots of background lore pls bear w/ me)

In life, there are those destined for lavish living and those made to struggle to see their next day. From a young age, Dorea knew she fell into the second category. She grew up orphaned; never knowing the love of a mother or a father. Despite the fact, Dorea was strong willed; she found her own kind of love. Love for herself, love for her friends, and love for her life. She knows that she did not have the best life; her dresses had holes in them, she had to work from dawn to dusk, and she often would need to go days without eating. That ultimately changed the day a close friend of hers had come to her with a new line of work.

“One of the castles maids was executed, so her position is open to take”.

Looking back, she should’ve said no from the way a chill went up her spine. She had heard the rumors of the king having gone mad; but at the time, that was not her problem. Being a castle maid sounded a lot better than being a candle maker. All she had to do was clean the chambers and mind her business and pay would be given to her. The task sounded easy— it should’ve been easy. Dorea had ways of not drawing attention to herself. That is how she has made it this far in her life; from hiding. The peace of obscurity brought her comfort; being anonymous was a safe refuge that protected her from prying eyes and the entanglements of wicked connections. The girl was pure and innocent.

Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans.

She truly had done all she could to stay out of the eyes of the royal family. She should’ve been more careful, more attentive, more aware of the eyes that followed her unknowingly when she walked the halls. Her foolishness had caught up to her one day when a guard had dragged her to the throne room; thrown to the ground to kneel in front of the king, Aerys II Targaryen. Dorea was ready to open her mouth and beg for forgiveness on whatever crimes she had committed but was silenced in fear. “You will meet me in my chambers tonight”, he said. Dorea could do nothing but nod as she could not go against the kings’ words. The only thing she could do was look to the Hand of the King for some form of help, but they stood muted. Moments later, she was whisked away by some female servants— some of them her own friends— and was prepared for the event. She was washed and dressed properly; never have been so physically clean yet so dirty internally.

Later that night, her virtue and gaiety of life was destroyed when the king came and took her. She had prayed to the Gods that it was only a one-time thing. But the Gods seemed to find her plea a joke. The king would request her presence many more times and many more nights afterwards. Her position as a maid in the castle vanished overnight. Now, she stood as something different; still, she did not know exactly what. All Dorea knew was she felt shame as those working in the castle started to treat her different, with more respect and caution. She dreamt every night for this nightmare to end, but it only continued.

“The girl is pregnant, your grace”. The maestar told the king. Both fear and relief spread through her body. Fear in the sense that the king would have her eliminated to hide such sin, and relief that he might just send her away forever. It had to be one or the other; from what she has seen, the queen is currently pregnant as well and due in a few moons. Furthermore, he already had two children born, why would he need her? Her thoughts were interrupted by the third alternative she had feared the most, “You will continue to stay here. You will have the child”. Later that night, Dorea prayed once more for all this suffering to end. Finally, her prayer had been answered in the worst way possible.

She had heard the talks of the rebellion, but she never thought it would come to where she resigned. The king’s heir was now dead, along with his wife and children. The queen was now dead; dying from childbirth. The middle child and newest member of the royal family had been sent to exile. And the Mad King was now dead as well; stabbed by a member of his own Kingsguard.

Death and misery surrounded Dorea everywhere.

For her own safety, and her chance once again at freedom, she did what she knew she had to do. She ran away.

Dorea took refuge in a small village that resided in the Reach. Selling all the gifts and jewelry the king had bestowed upon her; she and her unborn child were set for life. A few moons later, Dorea gave birth during a warm summer night. As she held the newborn in her arms, she thought the Gods had finally decided to take pity on her and grant her some kindness. For starters, she had given birth to a girl. Dorea was thankful in the sense that the child would not be seen as a threat to the line of succession of the Iron throne. Additionally, the babe had no features of a Targaryen. Caressing the small amount of hair on her daughter’s hair, she was given hair as dark as night instead of the silvery-gold feature of her biological father. Dorea let out a sigh of relief once the girl opened her eyes— no violet eyes either. Pulling the babe closer to her chest, she gave a quick prayer and smiled down at the sleeping babe.

Dorea named her Y/N.

As time passed, Y/N quickly grew before her mothers’ eyes. Both her and her mother were beloved by the village folks— Dorea giving money to those who were in need, and her daughter who was tenderhearted and befriended all. No one in the village had known about Doreas’ past or Y/N true linage. And Dorea wanted to keep it that way. She, however, knew that one day it would all come back to bite her. Despite having run away, she knew that there were some people who knew of their existence. It did not help her case more when Y/N had begun to show a great fascination with fire; something the mothers of the village made jokes about, but Dorea knew the truth.

“You have dragon blood within you”, Dorea had whispered to her daughter one quiet night. “You are part Targaryen, but you must keep this a secret. I am only telling you this for your own safety. There are people in this world who will want to hurt you, to take you away from me. Do you understand darling?”. At just the age of eight, Y/N was smarter and brighter than her peers. Hearing such solemness in her mothers’ voice, she nodded, “Yes mother”.

Such a topic was dropped and never brought up again— that was until Y/N turned ten. Since Dorea had the funds, she had hired a tutor for the young girl. Y/N’s instructor was a retired tutor who had taught many kids from noble homes before moving to their village. The old man was just supposed to teach her simple things like language, arts, music, and maths.  Without her mothers’ knowledge, Y/N brought up the topic of history to her teacher, particularly the history of the Targaryen household. And that’s where everything started.

It was one calm afternoon in their shared bedroom when Y/N had asked the question. “Mother, am I cursed?”. Dorea, puzzled, stopped brushing her daughter’s hair and turned towards her, “What kind of question is that?”. Y/N looked sheepishly to the side and confessed everything, “I have been learning history with my tutor. Targaryen history”. Before Dorea could respond, the young girl continued, “You say I am half Targaryen, and based upon their history, I must be cursed”. Dorea questioned what she meant and then let out a loud laugh at her daughters’ answer: “I have black hair mother”.

Dorea caressed her daughters face, smiling and shaking her head, “Darling, your hair color does not mean anyth- “.

“But its true mother!” Y/N exclaimed, “It is shown all over their history. Rhaenyra Targaryen’s eldest sons were born with dark hair, and they all died before they could reach adulthood. Rhaenys Targaryen was known as the “Queen Who Never Was” and saw the death of her two children in her lifetime. Rhaegar Targaryen’s daughter was killed in the sack of Kings Landing. Valarr Targaryen was- “.

“What does any of that have to do with you?!”, Dorea shouted out, startling Y/N. The young girl felt tears come to her eyes as she hid herself in her mothers’ embrace, muffling her words, “They were not pure Targaryen. I am not a pure Targaryen, mother. I do not wish to fall to such misfortunes”. Dorea felt her heart break at the sound and thoughts of her daughters’ troubles. Shaking her head, Dorea raised Y/Ns’ head and looked straight into her eyes, “You are not cursed. Their misfortunes are not yours. Do you hear me girl? This is your life, and you control it”. Y/N could do nothing but continue to cry. "It's okay, sweetheart," her mother whispered, her voice a tender melody that carried reassurance. Dorea cradled the young girl, whose sobs softened but still lingered, the remnants of a storm that had raged within her fragile heart. “I will protect you no matter what”, she declared.

Y/N would forever remember that loving moment, amongst the many others she shared with her mother. While Dorea had said she would do anything to protect her, Y/N should’ve said the same thing back. Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans for the daughter. Not even a month later, Y/Ns’ mother died, succumbing to a mysterious illness that took her in a matter of days. It felt as though the moment she acknowledged the said “curse”, her world only came to be filled with hurt.

Being only ten years old and now orphaned, the people in the village were kind enough to take the girl in. Specifically, it was a family of three that consisted of a father and mother and a son her age who took her into their home. The boy, named Tomas, had always been a close friend of Y/N. The two would spend many days together, playing and running around in the meadows. He would pick flowers for her and in return she would do the same. There was even one early morning when the two stood by their village’s lake and shared a kiss with each other. Despite still being a child, Y/N felt as though she was feeling the love that was described in the fairytale stories her mother used to read to her.

Sadly, that love was taken from her as well. At the young age of one and three, Tomas had somehow fallen and drowned in that same lake. Y/N had never heard such a devasting scream as Edith, Tomas’s mother, held her dead son in her arms. The village was both in mourning and in query; Tomas had been taught to swim at the age of four, how could this have happened? No explanations were thought of, but Y/N had her own belief.

I’m cursed, she would toss in turn in her bed at night, I am cursed.

Two more years would pass by, and no other unfortunate incidents would have occurred. But there is always calm before the storm. One day, something within Y/N had made her go explore the small forest that was near her village. It was nothing out of the ordinary; she had done it many times before. Yet, she stayed exploring for hours before that same voice within her told her to return. Upon seeing her village within the distance, Y/N should’ve never listened to that voice. She wishes she could’ve stayed back and continue being ignorant of everything. Her village— the homes, the crops, the trees, everything, was up in flames. Running down the dirt paths, Y/N did not have time (nor did she want to) to acknowledge all slaughtered men, women, and children that laid on the grounds. A small amount of hope had sparked within her when she saw that her home was not ablaze. That hope died upon entering the residence— Y/N crying out in distress at the sight of Edith, the women she had come to see as her second mother, dead on the ground. Her sadness was turned to fear when she spotted a large man in the corner, angry and hungry for blood. Before the crazed man could run at her, he was tackled to the ground by Lance— Edith’s husband and her adopted father. He was clearly injured; covered in blood from head to toe but still had the strength in him to scream at Y/N, desperation laced in his voice, “Run girl! Run and do not look back!”. Y/N, not wanting to witness his clear end, quickly listened to his order and ran out the door, trying her best to stay out of sight of all the other savage men as she made her way out the village.

She must’ve ran for hours before she knew she was no longer in danger. A day or two of traveling passed by before she took residence in a small city. That same night, under a dirty bridge, she finally acknowledged all hell that had occurred to her within the past forty-eight hours. The dams broke as she cried and screamed out in sorrow and pain. She cried, and cried, and cried until she had no more tears to let out; now consumed by numbness. Her mother, her first love, her caretakers, her childhood friends, her home; had all been taken from her. What had she done to deserve this? With her heart broken into millions of pieces, Y/N decided that she wouldn’t live like this. Never would she fall in love and never would she form a deep connection with anyone again. She wasn’t going to let herself be tied to the Targaryen name, to its blood, nor its curse. She wasn’t going to let this curse win and see her suffer again.

And so, she did; well, she tried her best at least. With the little money she had on her, Y/N jumped from village to village, city to city, and made sure not to socialize with anyone. There were some instances of people trying to get to know her, boys trying to court her, but she wouldn’t stay very long and would be gone the next day. It was a lonely life, a life she despised but knew she had to endure. That changed a bit when she came face to face with a woman with a fair complexion and silver hair.

Daenerys Targaryen. The “Mother of Dragons”. Her older half-sister.

Daenerys had always known about her half-sister’s existence; her older brother one day rambling that the throne belongs to a true Targaryen and not the current usurper, nor the “Targaryen-bastard filth” their father left behind. At first, Y/N was wary of the girl but soon found herself becoming fond of her presence. Daenerys felt the same way; with no family left on either girl’s end, they quickly found solace in each other— treating one another as the sisters they are. It was strange at first for Y/N; getting used to now having family once again and the companionship of dragons that came with it. Initially, she was terrified at the sight of the foreign creatures but quickly came to love them and their beautiful nature. She became quite close with the one called Rhaegal, favoring the dragon over the overs. Rhaegal doted and protected the girl the same; but still recognized Daenerys as its’ rightful mother. Y/N could say she just held the title of “favorite aunt” now amongst the creatures.

The thought of the curse still weighed heavy in the back of her mind, but Y/N hypothesized that whatever superstition was out to get her would not harm her sister; a true (and last) Targaryen. Y/N immediately recognized Daenerys as her queen and vowed to help her reclaim her throne. For some time, Y/N felt happiness once again entering her life as she spent more time with her sister and her allies. That bliss, however, turned out to be false hope.

“When the time comes and I reclaim my throne, I will legitimize you as a Targaryen”, Daenerys spoke to her one night. Y/N wanted to decline right away; she was content with not having a household name and did not want to be associated with the Targaryen name. Before Y/N could speak, Daenerys looked shamefully down while holding her sister’s hand, “There is a reason why I came looking for...”. Y/N felt a chill run up her spine and quickly encouraged the Mother of Dragons to continue. “I am unable to have my own children. When the time is right, I will need you to find a man, any man of your choosing..”, Daenerys sternly said as she looked into Y/N eyes, “I will need an heir to inherit the throne and continue my family name. Do you understand sister?”. Daenerys felt guilt creep up inside her as she finally confessed her true intentions from the start of meeting Y/N. She was asking too much of Y/N but, she, however, was on a mission to reclaim her birthright no matter what. Y/N stared agape at her, no words coming from her mouth. She wanted to decline even more— but, looking into Daenerys eyes, she saw the graveness within them and the true tone behind her words. She was not asking this of her as her sister. She was commanding this of her as her queen. And Y/N would do anything for her rightful queen.

“Yes, sister. I understand”. Y/N now found herself tied to the Targaryen name. Something she vowed never to be but couldn’t escape.

As time passed by, Y/N kept her promise and stood by Daenerys side as she continued her conquest; now finding herself at Dragonstone, her sister’s ancestral home. The preparations and campaign for Daenerys claim to the Iron Throne was in full effect but was interrupted momentarily.

“The King in the North?”, Daenerys questioned one of her advisors who came bearing news. “Yes my Queen. He sent a raven— detailing that he wishes to speak with you”. Y/N, standing off to the side, expressed her thoughts and question, “I had heard that the King in the North was dead”.

“As did I”, Daenerys said sharply. The man before them nodded his head, “Yes. There was an incident that had occurred that made everyone believe he was dead. But he is very much alive”. Daenerys raised her eyebrows up, skeptical about this so called “King in the North”— “And he trusts me with the information of his false death?”

“Well, according to his letter, yes.”

Y/N and Daenerys turned, staring into each other’s eyes, speaking with them. Not much emotion was shown behind Y/N eyes, but she was able to express with them, “What harm is there in seeing what he wants”. Sighing, Daenerys nodded her head and agreed with her sister.

“Send a message back. Invite him here and let him know I agree to speak with him”.

A few days later, Y/N stood on the shores, waiting to welcome her guests on the request of Daenerys. Once she saw the boats pull up on the beach, she made her way but stopped in amazement. Out from one of the boats came a large, thick furred animal— a dire wolf. She had only ever heard about the mythical creatures and now she was in close distance with one. Dragons and now dire wolves; she held a small smile on her face at the uniqueness that was the world. Clearing their throats, the two guards behind her had snapped her out of her daydream, reminding her of the task. Standing tall, Y/N put on her best welcoming smile and stood in front of the party, “Welcome to Dragonstone. I have been sent by our rightful Queen to give our greetings”.

Y/N voice had started loud and clear, but slightly quieted down towards the end as she made eye contact with a man. A very handsome man to be exact, she thought to herself. He stood tall and strong, a lean build with dark curls and blue eyes as blue as the water behind them. He smiled at her and before he could open his mouth, the older man next to him spoke up. “I present Robb Stark. Heir to the Stark household and King of the North”. Y/N raised her eyebrows at the discovery of the handsome stranger being the King in the North. Turning to him, she held a sort of mischief but harsh attitude in her voice, “Is the King in the North unable to speak for himself?”

The men in front of her were clearly taken back. Except for Robb Stark who let out a small laugh. “Forgive me, my lady, I am very capable of speaking. I am Robb Stark”. He held out his hand and was charmed when she firmly grasped it and shook it; opting out of giving her his hand to kiss.  

“I am not a lady. Please, call me Y/N”. Robb was preparing himself to compliment her name but was cut off by the same man next to him. “She’s the Targaryen bastard, your grace”. Though it was meant to be a whisper for only Robb to hear, Y/N was in close enough proximity to have heard it as well. Robb swiftly turned to his advisor next to him, giving him a crude look before turning back to the girl, “Forgive the rudeness of- “

“No, it is quite alright” she waved her hand, “It is all true anyway. I am THAT Targaryen bastard”. Robb nodded, gulping as he tried to ease the tension, “I have heard a lot about you...and your sister too, of course”. Y/N wanted to let out a chuckle at the sight before her; a gorgeous man trying his best not to insult her. “And I have heard very little about you,” Y/N voiced, “Other than the fact that you were supposedly dead, which I can see you are very much alive”, looking him up and down with her eyes. Robb smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, “It is a long story”. Y/N let out a “hmm” sound, looking off towards the side to the dire wolf. “Is he yours?”

“Yes. His name is Grey Wind. I’ve had him since he was a pup”. Y/N nodded once more, noticing just how well behaved the wolf was, “He’s very beautiful”. Robb thanked her for the compliment, grinning widely, “I can see you are fond of animals. Do you have any of your own?”

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head, “No. I have children.”

Robb was clearly taken back by her words, a stuttering mess as he questioned her statement. “O-oh? You have children?”. Y/N could sense some disappointment in his voice towards the end as it cracked. Smiling, she shook her head. “No. But I do consider them children. Just not mine. I am just an aunt”. All the guests in front of her were puzzled by her words but ducked down in fear at the sound of a roar from above. Looking up, she smiled at the sight of Rhaegal and Drogon patrolling the skies.

“Seven hells!” she heard one of Robbs’ men yell out. Turning back, she playfully spoke “My children. Beautiful, aren’t they?”. None of Robbs’ men were able to agree or speak; still in shock. Robb, still looking up to the sky, laughed earnestly, “Well, they sure are an eccentric sight to see”. Y/N smiled more at his honesty, clapping her hands together, turning and speaking to the entire party, “Well. I believe that is a sufficient way to welcome you all here. Now, I must welcome you into the castle. Please come, the Queen is curious to known what it is you wish to speak about”.

Upon greeting the Queen, Robb Starks’ words and terms were clear to her. He wishes to ally with her in her conquest to take the throne and create a fairer and just realm. “We both have a clear enemy,” he spoke, “I want the Lannisters dead for what they have done to my family, and you want them off the throne entirely”. Every so often, Robb would cast his eyes off to the side to look at Y/N; something she tried her best to hide her reddening face from. “My men, though small numbers, will be yours to use. We ask that in return, once you take your rule, you allow the North to maintain a degree of self-rule. We will recognize you as the rightful Queen, but we wish to keep the North the way it is”. Daenerys nodded her head, asking her advisors for their views on the matter, and taking Y/N by surprise when she asked her as well. “As I perceive it, the North is biggest land piece in Westeros. It would be better to keep them as allies instead of fighting them off. They recognize you as Queen, and the Stark household keeps the North in check for you, sister”. Daenerys responded with another nod, showing to be clear in thought at all the opinions given to her. The Queen stood up, still not fully convinced, but could not deny all the positives of the compromise, “Very well. I will continue to think about the matter. I will let you know that my thoughts are leaning more toward yes than it is no. For now, your men must be tired. Allow my people to escort them to rest”.

Later that night, Y/N made her way down the dark halls to the one place in the castle that brought her peace. She almost let out a small scream at the tall shadow that appeared around the corner, “My lady?”. Placing her hand to her chest to control her tachycardic heart, she saw that the dark shadow was Robb Stark. “Your grace. You almost scared me to death”, Y/N laughed, “And please, I am not a lady of noble birth. Call me by my first name”. Robb returned her laugh with his own, apologizing for scaring her. “Forgive me, my lad- Y/N. I was just curious as to why you are out so late”. She nodded her head in the direction she was originally heading in, “I can not sleep so I was heading to the library to bore myself with some reading” she joked, “Is it not late for you to be awake as well?”. Robb gave a similar answer; unable to sleep and practically full of energy. Y/N looked down at the ground for a mere second before glancing into his eyes, “Would you like to join me?”. He agreed to her invite, thankful for the darkness of the night hiding his blushed face.

Dimly lit by flickering candlelight, the shelves towered, laid with books that held centuries of knowledge and wisdom. Robb made himself comfortable at one of the chairs available while Y/N opted for the window nook. “Do you come in here often?” Robb asked. Y/n offered a silent yes, trailing her fingers against the rim of the book she had chosen, “I have not been here that long, but yes. I come here every night; I tend to have trouble sleeping”.

“Why is that?” Robb questioned.

“Nightmares”, Y/N replied. Her dreams were always filled with visions of her dead loved ones.

After a pause, Robb gave a “hmm”; silently admiring the girl for not being afraid to show vulnerability. “That’s something we both have in common” he gave a warm smile. Another quiet pause passed by until Y/N looked up at him, “You say that you being alive is a long story— can I listen to it?”. Robb gave a slight nod, standing up to sit next to her in a close but comfortable proximity.

“I was to marry the daughter of someone who I thought was my ally. I agreed initially but something within me told me not to carry out my word”. He slowly reached over for the book that was in her hands, both hands brushing slightly as he took it out of her grasp, now distracting himself with it. “The wedding still went on; I supplied another man in my place. But, there was bloodshed, and I was betrayed. I barely made it out alive, along with a few other men of mine”. Inhaling sharply, he continued with his outpour, “And I’m thankful I did. I have sources that tell me that even if I went along with the wedding, I was to be killed no matter what. The Lannisters long ago forming allies with the people I thought I could trust”. Coming close to a finish, he looked into Y/N eyes, softly smiling, “I guess it was fate that saved me somehow”.

Breaking eye contact, Y/N scoffed at his words. “Fate” she said with repugnance. Her reply caught him off guard, raising his eyebrows in surprise, “You do not believe in fate?”.

Y/N took in a long sigh, shaking her head, “No I believe in it”, she gently whispered the last part, “We just never have seen eye to eye. My fate only brings me bad luck”. Robb took in her words, trying to calculate what he should say next. “I believe fate can bring both good and bad luck”, he began with, “One can say it was my fathers’ fate to have been killed, or my sisters’ fates to be held captive”, Robb swallowed thickly before continuing, “But, it is my fate to avenge and save them. It is fate that has brought me this far; that has brought me here and to you”, he slowly spoke while staring deep into Y/N eyes. She quickly looked away, hoping her face wasn’t red and was successful in controlling her facial expression. Clearing her throat, she spoke firmly, “You must be confused; I believe you are trying to woo the wrong sister, Stark. Is it not my sister who you need as your ally?”.

Robb let out a low laugh, grinning widely, “That may be true, but”, he slowly scanned the room in a playful manner, “I believe that I don’t see your sister in here at all. So, no, I am not confused. I am speaking to the right sister”. A third pause passed by as the two continued staring, wating for one of them to speak or do something. Y/N was the first— standing abruptly, she moved her hair behind her ear and let out an awkward ahem. “I believe I must retire for the night. It was nice speaking to you Stark”. Before she could make her way out the door, he called out to her.

“It’s Robb”. Turning, she questioned what he meant. Smiling, he spoke, “You can call me Robb. You say you come here every night?”. Y/N nodded her head. “Would you allow me to see you here again tomorrow? Or even spend some time with you come morning?”.

Y/N wanted to say no. She needed to stop whatever friendship (or relationship) was forming between the two before she got too close. Before her curse got to him. He had already suffered enough. Despite the fact, deep down, her own selfish desires won over. She hadn’t felt like this in forever— she wanted this feeling to last forever.

“Yes. Of course, Robb”.

Come morning, they spent the entire day together, including the night. The next day was the same. Daenerys had granted Robb and his men a longer stay as there was much to discuss. It was late in the morning that he and Y/N were walking along the shores, discussing the most random of topics. Both were making a great effort to make the other one laugh: sprouting different jokes and funny stories. They both loved hearing the sound of laughter coming out of each another’s mouths. A gentle breeze roamed the air, blowing through Y/Ns’ dark hair. Robb stood silently still, stuck in a daze and awestruck by her appearance. Swiftly, he removed his fur cloak and placed it upon her exposed shoulders. Robb gestured to the area around them as Y/N looked at him in confusion, “I thought you might be cold”. She let out a small chuckle, shaking her head but not returning his cloak back. It provided her with a sense of ease. “No,” she confessed, “I don’t run cold that easily”. Resuming their walk, Robb gave her a look of admiration, “You would do great in the North then. Have you ever been there?”.

She answered with a clear no, stopping in her path to match Robb’s sudden cease of movement. Slowly, he placed his hands upon the cloak, further wrapping it securely around her. “I believe you would love it there. Maybe one day, you can come with me to Winterfell. I would love to give you a tour and introduce you to my mother, and hopefully my sisters too. I’m sure they would love you”. No further sounds were made; the distant sound of crashing waves serving as the only soundtrack to their wordless communion. Y/N leaned slightly into him — his closeness felt like a forbidden sanctuary, a place where she found solace and belonging but knew she shouldn’t enter. Y/N only response was a gentle nod and smile.

Many heart-fluttering moments continued to happen between the two. Stolen glances from across the table, hands brushing as they took their walks, laughter and smiles shared in the dark of night. There was an occurrence in the library when Robb had urged the girl to go to bed; taking notice of her eyebags forming from their long night of talking. “I can’t go to sleep that easily. And even if I can, I just have bad dreams I can’t wake up from”, she disclosed. They sat intimately close, sharing an intense gaze, both their features illuminated by the light of the candles in the room. Y/N could see every detail, every pore, every small scar that graced his beautiful face. She was caught by surprise, her breath hitching when he gently grabbed her hand, drawing small patterns into it.

“You can sleep here if you wish. I will watch over you and wake you at any sign of discomfort”. She wanted to decline, but there was something in his eyes that was persuading her. Y/N then found herself in his warm embrace, laying her head gently on his chest. She could hear every breath he took, every beat his heart made. Sealing her eyelids, he was the sole occupant of her dreams. She had never slept better.

Daenerys was no fool to what was happening before her very eyes. Sharing a private dinner with her sister, she brought up the topic.

“So, you and the Northern have been spending some time together”. Y/N nodded; not being able to lie since there was clear evidence in front of Daenerys. “He is a good man,” she smiled, “Very kind to his men, to his wolf”, she smiled even further at the memory of Robb introducing her properly to Grey Wind. She could still hear his laughter and the concern that replaced it when Grey Wind had tackled her to the ground with wet kisses. “We don’t want to get that pretty face all slobbered up now, do we?” fondness had colored his expression as he helped her back up. The smile upon her face slipped away, a frown and more serious look taking over.

“He’s very kind to me…I don’t think I will be spending much time with him anymore though”, she held her fork tightly in her hand. Daenerys questioned what she meant by her words. “Personal reasons”, Y/N said in a somber tone, “He will be leaving soon, and I plan to stay by your side”. Daenerys nodded her head, a part of her knowing that Y/Ns’ excuse was not the full truth. It’s not an exaggeration— Daenerys wasn’t a fool. She was well aware of Y/N’s standoffish attitude; practically a hermit as she kept to herself, or Daenerys. She saw the reasoning behind it— having an understanding of her past hardships. Additionally, Daenerys once tried to comfort Y/N during a nightmare of hers, hearing the word “curse” coming out of her mouth every few seconds. She badly wanted to comfort her sister, let her know that she was not cursed— life was just not fair to everyone. Daenerys, however, said nothing. Y/N was the only family she had left, and she did not want to lose her so soon, especially to some man. Forcing a smile upon her face, Daenerys tried to hide the distaste she felt towards her own selfishness. “That is good. Family must stick together”.

As the hours slipped away, Y/N and Robb were spending their last night together in the library. Robb and his men were set to leave tomorrow— all discussions and plans made with Daenerys were finalized. Robb, sitting across the room, was enamored as Y/N read to him out loud. It was a couple nights ago that they created this little routine; Y/N would read to him, and he would give his input at certain scenes. Right now, however, he was not paying attention to what was happening in the story. He was trying to memorize her gentle sweet voice, the way her lips moved with each syllable she said. Finishing a passage, Y/N put the book down to ask Robb his view.

“I can not lie to you. I was not paying attention”. Mouth agape, she pretended to be upset, throwing the small pillow she had next to her. Robb caught the cushion, letting out a hearty laugh that rumbled deep within his chest. Standing up, he walked across the room to her, placing the pillow behind her back. He knew she liked to read in comfort. Y/Ns’ smile was warm, spreading even more across her face at the words Robb spoke next, “You have a pretty voice”. Shyly looking down, she quietly thanked him. Robb’s compliments towards her only continued, “And a beautiful face”.

Biting her lip, she was readying herself to change the topic, but he only continued more. “I remember when I saw you for the first time”, he sat down beside her, sharing body warmth now, “I truly thought I had never seen a more beautiful woman before in my life”. Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes softly and replying in a joking matter “And then you saw my sister and I was the second most beautiful woman you had seen in your life”. Her heart quickened up when she looked up at him, no humor present on his face, only showing seriousness. “No”, he whispered, “you were still the most captivating and breathtaking beauty I’d seen”. Silence filled the room. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers interlacing with hers. “I leave tomorrow”, he spoke of the one thing they both had refused to acknowledge. “That you are”, Y/N said, her main focus placed upon their hands. Drawing small comforting circles into her skin, he asked her what she had planned for her future.

“My future is a mystery”, Y/N sighed heavily, “Regardless, I will continue to stand by Daenerys and be with her when she retakes the throne. She told me that she was going to bestow the Targaryen name upon me, but I’m not sure that is what I want”. Confusion etched Robbs’ features, questioning her meaning. Her face gave away a gloomy look, “I have never really been fond of my Targaryen blood. Daenerys is the only good thing that has come out of it”, she said truthfully, “I’ve gone long enough without a household name, so I don’t see the point in having one”. A smile graced her lips as she looked at him, “I won’t lie, it is a small yearn of mine. To belong somewhere and become a part of something special”.

A pregnant pause filled the room. The only sound being heard was the burning of the fireplace. Y/Ns’ laughter echoed through the room; Robbs’ next statement finding humor within her.

“You can become a Stark”.

Shaking her head, almost wanting to wipe the imaginary tears in her eyes, she continued her fits of giggles. “And how can I do that- “

Robbs’ next sentence caused all laughter within her to cease, her breath getting stuck in her chest. “By marrying me”, he said.

Another pregnant pause. Y/N stared at him in shock, becoming a stuttering mess, “R-Robb, I…”. Before she could finish, he cut her off, taking both her hands into his now, “I plead that you allow me to speak first”, he smiled but looked ready to cry, “I have never felt the way I have when I am with you. You truly have stolen my heart, and I don’t plan on asking for it back. Come with me to Winterfell— become my wife, my queen”. With affection, he raised her hand and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on it, “Grant me the wish to spend the rest of my life with you”. Robb had poured his emotions out into his speech, mistakenly only imagining what he wanted her reply to be. He was not prepared for what Y/N said next.

“No.”

Furrowing his eyes, he dropped one of her hands but still held the other. Shaking his head, he began to apologize profoundly, “I-I’m sorry. I thought maybe there was something between us. Did I ask too soon?”, he looked desperate in front of her, “I can take back the proposal. I can court you properly if that is what you wish – “

“No. No, Robb”, Y/N let her hand drop from his, both now becoming colder by the second, “I can’t marry you”.

The tension crackled in the air as Y/N words hung between them, heavy and unresolved. The room felt suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. Robb’s jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the ground, struggling to contain his emotions and appear unaffected, “Can I ask why?”. Y/N bit her lip, her own emotions consuming her, never wanting more than to cry. “Robb,” she sobbed, “marrying me— being with me would only bring you hell”. Shaking his head, Robb grabbed ahold of her face, staring into her eyes, “What nonsense do you speak of? That can be far from the truth”. Y/N wanted to push his hands off her but was brought warmth by his touch, “But it’s the truth. My presence alone carries a curse. All those I have cherished have been harmed and taken from me”, he delicately removed the tears that were dropping from her eyes, “I’m not supposed to fall in love with you”.

Robb didn’t know what to say, how exactly to comfort her. His only reply being, “there is no such thing as a curse”, which angered her to some extent. Standing abruptly, she screamed out in sorrow, “Yes there is! My mother, my first love, my home— everyone suffered because of me!”, she started hyperventilating, burying her face in her hands, sobs echoing through the room, “You have suffered enough Robb. I do not wish to cause you more misery”. Robb sprang up quickly and encircled her with an arm, drawing her in for a reassuring embrace. As she cried, he felt her body quiver against his chest. He rubbed her back in gentle circles, giving her a feeling of comfort and safety. “Shhh…”, he tried soothing her, “Even if there is a curse, I won’t let it get to me, or you. I will protect you with entire life; you will never be subjected to such pain”, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her head, “I can’t let you go— living out the rest of my life thinking “what if?”.

Shaking her head, she gently pushed him away, “No, Robb”. Y/N stared at him, her eyes reflecting her inner sadness, “This is for my protection and yours. I would not have the strength in me to live if something happened to you”. Walking swiftly towards the door, she ceased her movements when Robb called out to her.

“Y/N. You deserve better”, he spoke truthfully and with sorrow, “You can’t live like this. Someone as extraordinary as you deserves to be happy. To be loved”.

She gripped the door handle, almost hurting her own hand from the pressure. Turning her head, she offered him a pained smile, “Maybe you’re right”, she opened the door, “But such fine things were not made for me in this lifetime”. And she was gone.

Y/N was unable to sleep the rest of the night, tossing and turning in her bed. Come morning, she mentally prepared herself for a conversation she knew she had to make. Standing in front of the chamber rooms Robb occupied, she knocked. A few seconds later, he opened the door, clear surprise on his face at her presence.

“Hi”, she spoke softly. Robb did not verbally reply to her greeting; opting to nod to her instead. “May I come in?”, she asked, and Robb moved to the side to allow her to enter. Looking at him, his tunic was unlaced— a clear indication she had interrupted him in the middle of dressing up. Y/N was informed that Robb and his men were to leave early morning; all they had to do was suit up and prepare their ships, and then he would be gone.

Facing him entirely, she gestured to his packed supplies in the corner, “I came to wish you a safe journey. I enjoyed our time together”. Robb registered her words, taking a deep breath, “Thank you, my lady”. She didn’t have the strength to correct him. All the while, Robb was struggling to tie up the last laces of his tunic. His hands were shaking. Walking slowly to him, she reached for his hands, moving them away to replace them with hers, “Allow me”.  Robb felt a fire ignite inside him as her gentle touch sent a chill down his spine. Focused on her work, Y/N laced up the complex pattern, her breath quickening as her fingertips touched his bare chest. Finishing up the last lace, she patted his chest and smiled up at him, “There. All done”. She only took one step back before Robb wrapped his arm around her waist, pushing her back to him. Y/N gaze softened, a silent acknowledgement passing between them. Slowly and hesitantly, she placed her hand upon his cheek, caressing him. Stretching her neck, she placed a small kiss on his lips, pulling away in mere seconds before either of them could comprehend it. Robb did the same; the two now sharing their second kiss.

For a while, they stood in each other’s embrace in silence. Robb took the next step, closing the small distance and cupping her face in his hands. With a mixture of yearning and desire, she leaned into his touch, gazing up at him as her heart ached. Reaching down, he kissed her with longing and tenderness. Y/N reciprocated right away, moving her mouth with his to match his rhythm. This kiss was longer, both wanting to savor the moment a bit more. The kiss had started off slowly but quickly came alive as they both deepened it. Robb fingers wove into her hair, pulling her closer to him; despite being as physically close as possible. Y/Ns’ body felt on fire; Robb’s touch both gentle yet firm as he traced her body with his other hand. Gasping into his mouth, she was taken by surprise (but did not fight off) at Robb picking her up by the thighs— walking to the small table in his room and dropping her on it. Opening her legs widely, he stood between them, both breathing heavily as they’re lips continued pressing together. Y/N did not know what to do with her hands, moving them all across his body and landing upon his hair, tugging slightly at his roots. Robb was the same; still opting to trace his hands across her thighs and up her breasts— igniting a moan out of her moth that he swallowed with his. Both their lips parted slightly, allowing them to slip their tongues into each other’s.

The room was heating up by the second. The only sounds that could be heard were their muffled groans and heavy breathing. Parting away, Y/N went to work to unlace his tunic— undoing her work. There was some urgency in the way her hands moved, Robb staring at her, intoxicated by her face contoured in rapture. He went straight for her dress, moving the fabric down to expose her shoulders, planting kisses on her. Y/N let out a loud whimper; the feeling of Robb biting into her neck sending a jolt of pleasure and goosebumps over her body. Grabbing his jaw, she returned her attack on his lips; their kiss now getting sloppier by the second, teeth almost clashing against. Y/N was readying herself to further pull her dress down but was interfered by Robb pulling away. Almost desperate like, she chased his lips but was denied.

“No,” Robb spoke, almost sounding to be in pain. His breath was ragged, chest moving up and down and fist clenched to his side, “Not like this”. Y/Ns’ common sense returned, slightly embarrassed that her hunger for him had taken over her completely. She was thankful that Robb had the strength and respect to keep her virtue safe. A few moments passed and their breathing became stable once again. Y/N watched as Robb gazed down at her, his lips red and bruised. Taking a hold of her face in his hand, Robb placed his forehead against her, “I love you”. Y/N could do nothing but nod, wrapping her arms around his torso, “I know”.

He smiled sheepishly at her, caressing her cheek, “Write to me at least. Please. Write to me about anything…even if you have nothing to talk about. I will always send a reply back. I promise”.  She gave him a tight-lipped smile, kissing his hand lightly, “I’ll try”. Robb knew she was lying. As they held each other’s gaze, time appeared to stop and the outside world became less significant. With one last kiss to her temple, Robb picked up his belongings and went out the door.

Y/N waited a decent number of minutes to pass before she exited the room— making sure there were no prying eyes around. She was hurrying towards her own chambers; wanting to be alone and allowed let all her tears fall free. She didn’t make it far, stopping in her movements at the sound of someone calling her name.

“Y/N”, Daenerys called out at the end of the hallway. Approaching her, she offered her sister a happy smile, “I was looking all over for you. I came to see if you wanted to bid the North men a goodbye- “, Daenerys stopped talking momentarily. Her eyes taking in Y/N disheveled appearance, and the obvious love mark on her neck. “But I can see you must’ve already given your farewell to the King in the North”, she teased.

Y/N nodding, staring down at the ground with her hands picking at the skin around her nails, “Yes, I have. So, I have no need to bid them a further goodbye. If you excuse me, I will retire for the day”. She was barley able to turn her body around before Daenerys grabbed hold of her forearm. “Hold on”, Daenerys said letting out a low chuckle, “It is still early morning. Why would you retire so soon- “. Her amusement dwindled into silence, fully grasping the emotions displayed on her little sisters’ face. “What’s wrong? What happened?”, she inquired anxiously and hastily, “Did that Stark boy do something to you?”, now anger appearing in her voice. Y/N was quick to deny her accusations, “No. He did nothing. It’s what I’ve done to him”. The queen placed a comforting embrace around her sisters’ figure, soothing her hair. “He offered me a marriage proposal, Dany” she sobbed into her shoulders, “And I told him no. I broke his heart”. Daenerys said nothing to the information given to her.  A short interval of silence ensured; disrupted by Daenerys taking in a deep breath.

“Do you love him?”.

She hadn’t expected such a direct question from Daenerys, especially about something she had been trying to conceal. Y/N hesitated for a moment— deciding there was no use in denying it, “I do”.

The older sister pulled away, smiling down lovingly at her, “Then why not go be with him?”. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, stumbling over her words, “Because I promised to stick by your side. To help you,” she defended. Staring back at the floor, Y/N inhaled deeply, “Because I am cursed- “

“That is a load of shit”, Daenerys cut in. Y/N gaped at her older sister in disbelief for her vulgar language directed at her. Daenerys persisted with her speech, “You are not cursed, Y/N. Our history might show that our ancestors without the inherited Targaryen traits suffered greatly, but that does not mean all of them will”. Putting both hands on her shoulder, she reassured Y/N, “I know that in their lives they were still able to experience contentment and love. And you should too”.

Whispering softly, Daenerys hold on her sister tightened, “You've gone through a lot, and life has made it difficult to look past your own suffering, I won't deny that. But you need not forget the positive impact that you have on others around you. You undoubtedly brought happiness and love into the lives of your mother as well as those from your pas, and me toot. I'm even more positive that you introduced that into Robb Starks' life as well”.

Daenerys took a moment to recover after her extended address; watching Y/N register every world she spoke. Placing a gentle hand on her face, Daenerys gave her final say, “So, why not go be with him?”.

Y/N expression mirrored her surprise at what she heard. Shaking her head, she repudiated, “B-But what about you? My promise to you- “. She was cut off once again. “I’ve been thinking it over”, Daenerys began, “And I’ve asked too much from you. You are my only family and I wish to keep you by me, but your life is not mine. You control it”. Y/N held her breath, a small tear forming in her eyes. A sense of déjà vu had come to her— those were similar words her own mother had told her. Daenerys smiled widely at her, taking both her hands into her own, “If I am to be a good queen and rule with fairness”, she gave her hand a gentle squeeze, “I should let you live your life. As your queen, I give you the order to go live a life of happiness with the man you love”. She sustained the cheerful curve of her lips, “Go to him— go be with him in the North. A change of scenery can be good, don’t you think?”.

Y/N didn’t answer her question; instead, she sprang and encircled her sister in a warm hug. “Thank you, Dany,”, she expressed her heartfelt thanks. Daenerys words had opened her eyes; Y/N was not brought into this world to fear it— she was brought in it to appreciate its gifts. The gifts being family, happiness, and love. Daenerys suppressed a laugh that wanted to escape her lips. Pushing the girl slightly, she encouraged her further, “Now go and tell him. Rhaegal will be sad but he’ll live”. Y/N was quick to turn and follow after Robb, but stopped abruptly at Daenerys calling out to her.

“Don’t marry him too soon”. Panic coiled in the pit of her stomach at the thought that Daenerys was taking back what she said. The older sister waved her hand, shooing the girl away, “I just meant that I wish to be present at the wedding. Now, go”.

Robb stood beside a couple of his men and advisor at Dragonstone’s port. He watched his men load up the ships, trying to listen to what his advisor was saying but his mind was elsewhere. He came here to acquire the Dragon Queen as his ally— and now he leaves with that success and a broken heart. He traced back the memory of their times together, the warmth of her hands completely enclosing his, the way her eyes sparkled with every grin. A longing buried deep in his chest arose with every thought of Y/N. It was a bittersweet anguish. His advisor next to him cleared his throat, grabbing his attention when he nudged Robbs’ side, “Your grace”. Following the direction of his advisor’s eyesight, his own landed on Y/N— clearly out of breath and showing urgency.

“Y/N”, he called out. Robb was quick to grab ahold of her forearms, inspecting her body for any signs of injury, “Are you okay? Is there something wrong?” he asked, concern shown deep in his eyes. Y/N nodded her head, calming down her breathing as she watched his men leave to give them privacy. Staring up at him, she confessed, “I will not write to you”. Robbs’ brows drew together in a frown, feeling as though she was taking a jab at his sorrows. A normal reaction would be to spit fire back, but he was too in love with her.

Swallowing thickly, he responded, “I figured that already- “

“No, let me finish” she interrupted him, “I will not write to you…because I am coming with you”. His eyes widened in disbelief at the statement— not given time to properly respond once again. Swallowing the lump in her throat, her palms grw clammy, “Robb…I love you”. At last, he managed to respond, "You do?" with a tone that hinted at both surprise and joy. Y/N nodded, vulnerability showing in the blush of her cheeks and grabbing a hold of his hand, “Yes. I should’ve told you from the start and I should’ve said yes to your proposal- “, she sucked in a trembling breath, “I care about you deeply and I’ve never felt this much love for anyone”. Y/Ns’ heart raced as her words lingered in the crisp morning air. With a subtle shake of her head, she redirected the conversation. “Though I’ve come to see the foolishness in it; I still don’t know if my curse is real or not. All I know is that I wish to spend every minute— every second of my life with you”. Biting her lip gently, she broke eye contact with him, “It is a big risk, I kno- “.

“A risk I am willing to take”, Robb finally cut her off, “I would do anything for you.” In their moment of confession, they wrapped each other in a tight embrace. With their foreheads resting against each other's, a warm yet hesitant smile spread across Y/N face. “So,” she spoke shyly, “is that tour of Winterfell still up for grabs?”

Robb reciprocated her smile with his own, gently lifting his hands to touch her bottom lip. “Yes. It still is” he breathed out, “And my proposal too”. With a gentle tilt of her head, Y/N moved in closer, “Then I say you take me to Winterfell and make me your wife”. Their lips meet in a tender and heartfelt kiss— all their troubles now resolved. A quiet vow of eternity was spoken as their lips moved in rhythm. A familiar roar was heard; Y/N breaking the kiss and laughing as she took notice of Rhaegal in the sky. Robb found himself smiling even more at the sight of her joy; pulling her closer to him.

A cheeky grin formed across her face, “I think Lady of Winterfell has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”

Robb chuckled, caressing her face, “I think Queen of Winterfell sounds nicer. I also think the title of “Robb Starks’ Wife” suits you even more”. Y/N jokingly jabbed her elbow into his side, slightly squeaking as Robb reclaimed her lips in his. They both were filled with excitement and anticipation for what their future together awaited.

[dinogoofymutated]

NSFW! Gambit/Fem!AFAB!reader SECOND FIC OF HALLOWEEN CELEBRATION LEHHHGOOO!!! I really hope you guys like this one, as I had a lot of fun writing it! Sorry if the smut at the end is a little barebones, I was running out of steam lol. Here's your meal my hellions!

A bat flies through your window one night, and although you're dreadfully afraid of rabies and scared to touch the little thing, it's in really bad shape and you can't stand by and just let it die. You spend the next few days nursing the little guy back to health, when one day he up and disappears. The next night you go out with your friends, and feel like you keep seeing a familiar pair of eyes in the crowd.

TWs: MDNI!!!!!! Smut, Mirror sex, bitchy neighbors, alcohol consumption, semi-public sex. vampire stuff, only half of this has been beta-read. I'll add more if I think of any.

    The bat hadn’t struggled once when you scooped it up into a spare shoebox. It didn’t scramble away, or even flinch, really. It hadn’t made a single sound or squeak, either. All it did was look up at you with strange, tired eyes. Black scelera, red iris, black pupils- paired with an exhausted haze. He was cut up, battered, and beaten. If it weren’t for how compliant it was, you might have thought the thing was feral. Which didn’t exactly help your shaking hands or constant flinching as you used the lid to urge it into the cardboard. But your fear be damned, you couldn’t just leave the little guy on the doorsteps of your apartment- the thought of the bat being crushed by clumsy feet, or poked and prodded by the little hellions that were the children who lived here was more than enough to give you the push you needed.

    Besides, it was almost… cute, for something you thought was so scary. A little vampire bat with those strange eyes that seemed to follow you wherever you went. He never failed to perk up every time you came home from work. Despite the many struggles and attempts you had trying to find something he could eat, he never seemed to hold it against you. Happy to see you when you took the lid off the shoebox to check in on him, and not too upset with you when you inevitably had to put it back on.

    Well, before he escaped, that is. 

    You knew you were going to have to let him go at some point. You were just trying to do the right thing and reach out to a wildlife rescue, or something. Hoping that they’d do something more to help him before he was set back off into the wild. But one day you came home and he was just, well, gone. The lid of the shoebox had been tossed aside, the box itself a little squished and damaged, the bat nowhere to be found. You searched your apartment for absolute ages, unable to find any trace of his existence or escape aside from a window you were sure you had locked before you left for work that afternoon.

    You sigh as you look out the window of the Uber, thoughts drawn back to the bat as you pass billboards and cornfields, hoping he had escaped the city and found himself somewhere a bit safer. Ashley and Sophie, your neighbors from across the hall, are giggling about something in the seats next to you. The chatty girls are more like acquaintances than they are your friends, but on the surface, they seem sweet. When they invited you out tonight you had been surprised, if a little hesitant. You had wrestled with your anxiety every step of the way, but once you were strapped into the sexiest costume you could find and buckled into the almost-too-small backseat of the Uber, you had started to feel a little excited- despite the fact that you stood out like a sore thumb, with the girls having chosen matching costumes at the last minute and left you out of the loop. 

    “I think we should hit the corn maze first,” Ashley says confidently from the seat next to you. It’s enough to finally clue you back into their current conversation, debating on where the night should start once you get to the Halloween festival. -It’s an “adult only” event, with more than its fair share of alcohol and more than a few scare actors who linger around to give everyone a fright- and there’s a lot to do. It’s almost like the fair, just, you know, spooky. 

    “What? No! I’m telling you, it’s not a good enough photo-op until the moon comes out. We need to do it last!” Sophie sounds adamant, and you wonder how many times they've actually had this conversation leading up to tonight. You try not to snicker as Ashley rolls her eyes, Sophie pouting across the way. They bicker a bit more before Ashley turns to you, smiling slyly. There’s an unnerving way about the way she’s looking at you, something ticking in the back of your brain that you just can’t shake. 

    “What do you think?” She asks you, Sophie leaning over to stare at you directly, Puppy eyes full-throttle as she pouts. You don’t really want to be caught between the spat of theirs, so you take a moment to think, before shrugging with your answer. 

    “I think we should start with drinks.” You say after a moment, and both girls gasp in excitement. 

    “Girlie you are so smart!! I knew we invited you for a reason!” Ashley’s high-pitched voice cheers harshly in your ears as she lightly slaps your arm, but you smile at her anyway, despite the fact that her tone made it feel rather belittling. It’s fine. This is fine, it will be fine. Your anxiety feels like a ticking time bomb, but you know that when you get there and start having fun, it will eventually fade into the background of the noise and lights of the festival. At least, you hoped it would.

    The festival is pretty packed when you get there, but the wide walkways and plentiful games, areas, and events make it more approachable. After the first watery drink of the night, you start to relax a little. And as bitchy and frigid as the girls can be sometimes, they’re a lot of fun when it comes to a party! Carnival games, photo areas, rides, and jumpscares? You find yourself laughing most of the night as the three of you goof off and stumble your way through the corn maze, clown maze, haunted maze- a little repetitive in that area, but fun nonetheless.

    The funny thing was, despite all the people here, and everyone the girls have stopped to flirt with and talk to, you keep seeing this one particular guy. He was certainly one to stand out in a crowd, tall, dark, and handsome with what looked like a permanent smirk on his face. But the one thing you couldn’t seem to shake was his eyes. They had to be contacts, right? Black Scelera, red irises, black pupils… just, strange. And familiar, somehow. You feel like you see him everywhere you go, somehow always in your vicinity, but not really in a stalkerish kind of way. Besides, it was more than likely just a coincidence. 

    After a while of playing various games and a couple more watery drinks, you’re feeling pretty warm and a little crowded. Ashley and Sophie had run into some acquaintances they knew and had stopped to chat for a bit. They talk about some of the more busy and exciting things you haven't been able to check out yet, but the longer you stand there, the less appealing all of this starts to sound. You’re beginning to feel a little overstimulated, and go ahead and let the girls know you’d rather sit this one out. Sophie doesn’t answer you at all, and all Ashley does is wave you off. It sparks some annoyance in your chest, but knowing that you’re overwhelmed and everything feels like it's at 100% right now- you shrug it off. 

    You find a bale of hay to sit on where you told them you’d wait, relieved at the feeling of the cool night air that’s uninterrupted by masses of warm bodies and hot breathing. The sound of the crowd is a little muffled over here, and the slight breeze just gives you everything you need for a quick break from the chaos, eyes closed as you lean back onto your hands. Not for long though, as someone plops down onto the space next to you pretty much immediately. 

    “Busy night, ay, cher?�� Your eyes flick open quickly, and the source of that thick Cajun draw just so happens to be the handsome man you had been seeing all night. You blush a little, both out of nervousness and from the fact that he was even more attractive up close. The cool air suddenly feels sweltering with his eys on you like this. 

    “...yeah, I guess so.” You say after a moment, pressing a cool palm against one of your hot cheeks for a quick moment. The stranger chuckles at you, a flash of a fake fang appearing with his smile. 

    “Name’s Remy, Remy LeBeau.” He holds his hand out for a handshake, which you take with a smile. “Pretty girl like you gotta name?” You can’t help but giggle a little, and tell him your name, butterflies in your stomach with the way he’s looking at you.

    “Nice to meet you, officially.” You say, and he cocks an eyebrow at you with that signature smirk of his. “I mean- like, I feel like I’ve been seeing you everywhere tonight! Not in a creepy way or anything, I just…” You take your hand back from him, covering your face in embarrassment as you apologize again with a sigh. God, why were you so awkward? You drop your hands into your lap as Remy begins to laugh, with you blushing furiously in a way you pray you can blame on the alcohol. 

    “ s’ good to know I make a lasting impression,” Remy says, and it’s charming enough to make you crack another smile. 

    “I promise I’m not normally this strange. It’s been a bit of a night.” The words come out like a sigh, and you glance over where the “stressors” of the night had run off to, strangely thankful when you can't see them through the crowd. You feel like your heart skips a beat when you look back over at Remy, with a smile on his face and a fondness in his eyes you feel like might be a little too friendly for someone you just met.

    “I don’t mind, Cher. You’ll find that I like strange.” He replies, sending you a wink. You let out a short laugh, cocking an eyebrow at him.

    “You know what? I believe you.” You say, all Remy does is smile wider. You glance at him again, looking at him from head to toe as you take in his appearance up close. You can’t really tell if he’s wearing a costume, or if he had just stuck on some vampire teeth and called it a night. Either way, he looks good, and you really do not want to make a further fool of yourself. 

    “What led you here, anyway? Costume catch your eye?” You flirt, hoping you don’t come off as nervous as you are- not really one to flirt with handsome strangers. But hey! When the opportunity presents itself… Remy raises his eyebrows, interested. 

    “Sure, Somethin' like that.”

    You and Remy talk for a really, really long time. From the outside looking in, just about anyone would presume you were a couple with the easy-flowing conversation and back-and-forth flirting. You just clicked! It was so easy for your nerves to wash away, and for a long moment, all of your anxieties about the night were long forgotten. One of the two of you had scooted closer in the duration of your flirt-fest, not that you really noticed while caught up in his words and charismatic smile- your sides being pressed together and his hand resting behind you. He’s close enough to lean in and kiss you, and honestly, you certainly wouldn’t mind if he did.

    “So you want my number then?” The words are admittedly cocky, but damn did this guy make you feel so confident in your own skin.

    “You hear me say I didn’t?” Remy replies, cocking his head at you. You can't help but laugh, smiling like some cheesy idiot.

    “Do you flirt like this with every girl?”

    “Jus’ the ones I like.”

    You really hadn’t noticed how long the two of you had been sitting together, an hour? Maybe an hour and a half? Your phone had been long forgotten, and you weren’t really planning to check it either until you heard a giddy squeal from your right. Both you and Remy look over to the noise, only to see the girls, without their clique from before and presumably done with all of their roaming at the moment.

    “Hey girlie! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Ashley says, drawing you into an awkward side hug that you don’t return, confused.

    “I told you where I’d be?” She brushes you off, locking eyes with Remy for just long enough for her eyebrows to raise and a glint to light up in her eyes. 

    “Who’s this?” You don’t have time to answer before Sophie is in front of you, taking your hands and dragging you to your feet.

    “Come get food with us!! We need an excuse to sober up, and we’re not doing it without you, bestie!”  Both of them are being a little more friendly than normal, and it's enough to make you a little suspicious. But, food did sound pretty nice at the moment. You look back at Remy with a sheepish smile, and you find that he’s already looking at you. 

    “ S’ alright, Cher. I’m a patient man.” He gives you a reassuring smile, and you relax a little more, unable to keep yourself from smiling as butterflies light up in your stomach. The girls drag you away pretty much immediately, talking about some afterparty or whatnot, but all you can think of the entire time is the implications of that statement.

    “Where’d you find a man like that?” Sophie’s voice finally catches your attention while in line for the carnival food, and you give her a questioning look.

    “Sorry?” You ask, and both of them giggle in that way that just seems to set alarms off in your head.

    “I’m serious! Almost every guy we’ve seen tonight has been like, a seven. That one is literally a ten.” Sophie giggles again, sending Ashley a knowing look. You blush a little, thinking about Remy again, but there’s just something about this conversation that’s making you uncomfortable.

    “Well, I didn’t exactly find him. He approached me.” You admit, shrugging your shoulders. The girls exchange skeptical looks, before laughing again.

    “Really?” Ashley asks this time, a wolfish smile on her face. It’s rhetorical- and feels just plain bitchy. Your face screws up, and you think about confronting her, but they quickly and ignorantly delve into a separate conversation, and you reluctantly decide to let it go. What the fuck was up with them? You don’t fall into conversation with them for a minute as you try to collect yourself, knowing you’d rather ride home with them than pay for a separate Uber. And starting a fight was definitely not going to work in your favor, seeing as they were your neighbors. They had a pack mentality like no other, and after tonight you’d much rather be able to ignore them forever instead of having a neiborly feud. 

    Eventually, you do decide to join the conversation. The line for food was ridiculously fucking long, and although it was moving, you still felt so impatient. Your phone is dying, and you’d really rather save your battery for Remy’s number and the ride home- so you talk and hope for the best. Eventually, Ashley says she needs to go to the bathroom and hands her wallet to Sophie before she stalks off. She’s gone for a while. A really long while. As you’re finally inching your way to the end of the line, Sophie tells you she’s going to find her. You actually welcome the peace and quiet, and promise to hold the spot. 4th in line. 3rd. 2nd. You’re starting to get anxious by the fact that neither of them had returned, but you get to the end and they’re still not back. 

    You buy a funnel cake for yourself, almost worried about the two as you walk back to the hay bale where you left Remy. The crowd finally starts to clear a bit, and when the Hay bale is finally in sight, you actually assume that you were looking at the wrong spot for a minute- until you recognize the costumes, and then spot the brunette they are both latched onto.

    Ashley is in his space, her costume unzipped just enough for anyone walking past to get a view. Sophie is leaning across his shoulders, running her fingers through his hair and twirling the ends with manicured fingers You can’t see his face- but it didn’t really matter anyway. 

    You don’t mean to drop the funnel cake, but you do. There's a shot of ice through your veins when it clicks for you, finally, as you watch them from a distance- it was a ploy. A stupid fucking ploy. You were the ugly friend- If they could even call you that. You were invited to make them look better. The matching costumes, the conspiring looks, the whole thing about Remy. Jesus Christ, had you always been this blind? Your face is warm with humiliation, eyes watering as you desperately try not to cry.

    Remy had nothing to do with it- of course, he didn’t, you just met him, but as you look at the two draped over him… You just feel like you can’t really compare. You know better. You do- but god, did it hurt. You don’t want to go over there for them to make fun of you again, and you sure as hell don’t want to feel the sting of rejection that will inevitably come when he ditches you for them. Before you know it, your feet are moving. You’re not thinking clearly- hardly thinking at all. You see a side entrance, or maybe a fire exit, not that you really care. You can’t read anything through your tears, closing the door behind you and plugging yourself into darkness as it clicks shut.

    Inside, you find a mirror maze- again, what was with all of the fucking mazes? The overhead lights are off, what little light that’s coming from the outside dimly reflecting through each and every silvery mirror. It’s completely abandoned, with not a single soul in sight. You step over some shattered glass as you make your way further into the maze, and understand it was probably because drunks and mirrors don’t mix. 

    You find a dead end in the maze, and it’s like your legs give out. You can't help but just sit on the ground and sob for a minute. The backs of your hands are stained with the mascara that you’re sure is streaking down your face. You feel like an idiot- stupid, dramatic, pathetic. And you looked it, too. Every mirror reflects the mess of what you have become until you can’t stand to look at yourself anymore, pulling your knees to your chest and tucking your head into your arms.

    It's a quiet reprieve. You sit for a minute, long after your tears have dried. Your breathing begins to return to normal as the humiliation really starts to settle in. You’re so tired, and exhausted, and find yourself wishing you had never come out tonight at all, visioning your comfy bed that waits for you at home. 

    “Pauvre ti bête. Looks like you need new friends, Cher.” The sound of the voice makes you flinch, the daylight scared out of you as a dark figure sits down by your side.    “Remy?” You wipe at your face again, knowing it was to no avail, and that the damage to your makeup had already been done. 

    “The one an’ only,” He replies. It’s hard to see him in the low lighting, but it’s not like you’re looking around much anyway. There’s a silence between you two, and your gaze is locked on the floor, refusing to look at him with your stupid pout and tear-stained face.

    “Sat for a while, waitin’ on you.” He says, after a long moment, and it makes you feel so much fucking worse. You curl into yourself a little more.

    “Sorry, I just… I dunno, I thought you looked busy.” The words are more of a whisper than anything, and he chuffs something that’s not quite a laugh in response.

    “I guess you could say that.” He hums, leaning back on his hands as you finally turn to look at him. “Hadda swat those girls like damn mosquitos to get 'em off. Felt like they were tryna swallow me whole.” You can’t help but laugh at that, rubbing your eyes a bit.

    “...Trust me, they were probably trying to swallow something.” The words are out of your mouth before your brain can really catch up. Remy laughs a full laugh, smiling brightly at you now that you’ve started to come back out of your shell once again. 

    “Sorry, that was crude.”

    “Sounded pretty funny to me,” Remy’s grin is contagious, not that you ever would complain. You roll your eyes at him with that big smile on your face, leaning your head against the mirror behind you.

    “I guess I can’t really blame them, either.” You mumble, eyes going wide once you realize that that was most definitely not supposed to leave your lips. “God damn, I really have lost my filter!” Remy begins to laugh again as you cover your face, flushed with embarrassment. He doesn’t seem to mind the comment at all. Pulling your hands away as he struggles to contain his laughter. 

    “I like you, y’know that?” He says, and it makes you smile. You sit in comfortable silence for a bit, and before you know it, you find yourself leaning on his shoulder, eyes closed. Your thoughts slowly begin to wander. Remy’s very sweet, and the fact that he still came looking for you despite everything… It meant a lot. You can only imagine how uncomfortable he had been with Ashley and Sophie hanging off of him, waiting, wondering where you had gone. If he notices as your smile slowly becomes a frown, he doesn’t say anything. 

    “I’m sorry I left you out there.” You say quietly, breaking the silence that had become so uncomfortable for you. “I hadn’t realized they invited me to be the “ugly” friend until right then and I just needed to get away from it all.” There’s a featherlight brush of skin against your cheek, and when you open your eyes, Remy pushes a few strands of hair out of your face, thumb lingering against your skin. You find yourself caught up in his piercing gaze. It’s almost like he’s looking into your soul.

    “Pretty dumb choice to invite you if they were looking for an ugly friend.” His voice is low, and his cool hand feels nice against your flushed skin. You can’t drag your eyes away from his, gazes locked together as the tension only grows- thick enough to cut with a knife and choke you as you breathe it in. It’s he who breaks the eye contact first, stunning red irises flickering down to your lips and back up again. 

    “Really,” You ask, but it’s less of a question and more like a filler, mind unable to provide anything other than that. You’re caught up in that little action of his, swallowing, unable to look away from him. Suddenly, you realize just how close he really is.

    “Mais oui,” He mumbles, close enough for you to feel the slight breath that comes with the words. His thumb and finger prop up your chin, but he moves no closer, waiting for you. It’s hardly a debate for you to decide to brush your lips against his own.

    It’s like fireworks explode behind your eyelids when the space between you closes, his lips melding against you perfectly. It’s soft and sweet. Gentle for a man as much of a flirt as he appeared to be. He kisses you a few times, just like that, until the kiss starts to develop into something a little more heated. He turns to face you a little better, the sharp fangs in his mouth grazing your bottom lip as he leans over you and licks at the seam of your lips- which you eagerly open for him. Fuck, he was a good kisser. 

    Before long, you’re leaning back on your palms, and one of Remy’s knees presses between your thighs. Your elbows buckle just a little, and he’s quick to catch you. One of his hands is on the small of your back as he keeps you propped up, the other one flat against the floor as he keeps both of you from falling. He nips at your lip- the tip of his canine just barely splitting the skin before he kisses away your yelp, licking the blood away just as quickly as it had appeared. As embarrassing as it was, the action alone was enough to get the attention of heat slowly building in your abdomen. His kisses trail from your lips down to your neck, kissing the sensitive skin there. 

    Your eyes slowly open, half-lidded as you weave your fingers through his hair, tongue softly licking at the stinging soreness of that bottom lip of yours. He’s not as aggressive with the rest of you, kissing and sucking dark spots into you as the sharp canines only drag and graze. Your eyes wander to a mirror across from you- one just barely lit from what you were sure was a hole in the roof- the full moon lining up just perfectly enough to light the mirrored room.

    It takes a second for you to recognize what you see in the mirror.

    You see yourself. Just yourself, leaned over as if you were hovering, neck exposed with purple marks blooming mysteriously across your skin. It’s you. Just you. Only you.

    A gasp is ripped out of your throat, and if the way your spine goes rigid wasn’t enough to alert Remy, it was the fast, pounding beat of your heart. Your eyes are glued to that image reflected in the mirror, even as Remy removes himself from your neck and finds himself staring at that same image. He stiffens, an unreadable look on his face before he recovers with an amused hum. 

    “Well, Don’t we make a lovely couple?” He muses. And when you finally look back at him, his strange eyes and sharp fangs, you realize exactly what he is. A wave of familiarity washes over you again, but you can’t place it as the horror begins to wash over you. 

    “Oh my god.” You breathe, almost stuck in disbelief. This could not be real, could it? That smirk of his makes yet another appearance, and yet something feels off about it. Deceptive, almost. It does not reach his eyes.

    “What, you afraid?” He asks with a chuckle. You wonder for a moment about the situation you had put yourself into, held in the arms of what could only be a vampire. All you can do is look at him, wide-eyed. If stories were to be believed, he’d be caging you in his arms, holding you in an iron grip before he strikes- bleeding you dry without care… 

    But he’s not. Yes, he was holding you up, but the arm around you is loose. His body language is open- and you get the feeling that if you tried to make a run for it, he’d let you. He’s not vicious. He’s not snapping at you or pinning you down. Hell, he had the chance to bite you earlier while you were pliant and eager, and he didn’t. 

    “...I don’t actually know, right now.” You finally respond, and something shifts. His breath catches in his throat, and the barest glimpse of vulnerability is gone within a second as he leans back a little, giving you a chance to sit up a bit more. You do so hesitantly.

    “I’m not here to hurt you, Cher. Just wanted to give you a proper thank you.” He rumbles. He takes one of your hands, lifting it to his mouth to press a kiss to your knuckles, gaze never leaving your own. Black, red, black. Where had you seen that before?

    “Proper… what?” You furrow your eyebrows, trying your damndest to make sense of it all. Black, red, black. Black, red, black. Sharp teeth. Vampires, bats, Vampire bats. Vampire bat. Vampire bat. For the second time tonight, it all clicks for you. 

    “Holy shit. You-? The bat?-” You feel like you’re at a loss for words. Remy smiles again, fangs catching the low light of the mirrored room.

    “That’d be me.” He admits, thumb rubbing over your knuckles. “ ‘Thought I was done for until you showed up. Most vamps like that? They don’t make it inside ‘fore the sun comes up.” He chuckles, but the seriousness of the situation is not lost on you. Saving the life of an immortal being rather than the life of a small bat is something huge, it felt like it, at least. 

    “Did you follow me here? Is that why I kept seeing you around tonight?” You ask. Remy simply shrugs his shoulders, letting your fingers go as he inches forward, looming over you once again. 

    “Think of it as more of a happy accident.” Remy sets his arms on either side of you, leaning close enough for his nose to gently brush against yours. You think he’s going to kiss you as his hand comes up to cup your chin. Instead, Remy runs his thumb across your lower lip, which you hadn’t even realized had started to bleed again. He brings the thumb to his mouth, licking the smear of blood. The sight is seductive. Arousing. You find yourself staring at his lips, conflicted. He sets his forehead against your own, hovering over your lips. There’s a heated look in his eyes when you look back up at them.

    “Tell me to leave, Cher, And I’ll go.” You swallow as he says the words, a flutter in your chest and a growing warmth within you. You bite your lower lip, your hesitance quickly being overshadowed by want.

    “... You're not gonna suck my blood or anything?” You ask, lips beginning to brush against his own. He chuckles, and this time he’s close enough for you to feel the sound as it rumbles through his chest.

    “Not unless you want me to…” He’s teasing you now, making you chase his lips until he’s fully sure you really want this, and you do. When they finally meet, his lips press against yours just as spectacularly as they did the first time. One of his hands snakes around the back of your neck, shielding the lower part of your head as he lowers you to the floor. You find yourself lost in his kisses, thinking of only him and the way he treats you so gently. 

    He props himself up with one strong arm, the other cupping the side of your face rather reverently, his thumb stroking across your cheekbone. Your hands can’t help but wander up and down his torso, feeling the muscle beneath his shirt. You feel him smile against your lips as you do, kissing at the corner of your mouth, and then your jaw, before the fluttery movement traces a path over each and every discolored spot on your neck, kissing the marks he had given you not even twenty minutes earlier. Your hands come up to tangle in his hair as the kisses venture further. His cold face presses into your open cleavage, an open palm dragging up from your thigh and sliding beneath your top, softly squeezing the bare skin of your waist. You find yourself arching into his touch, eager for his soft caress. 

    You have goosebumps down your chest as his fangs graze the skin, his fingers hooking around the neckline of your shirt and the bra underneath it from the inside. The cool air hits your bare breasts as he tugs it down, your nipples pebbling at the frigid draft. Your breath hitches at the feeling as his lips venture down your sternum, his free hand moving out from under the fabric to palm and toy with one breast as he begins to tease the other. He chuckles at you when you let out a whine, fingers tugging on his locks.

    “Have a little patience, Cher.” There’s a seductive lure to his voice as Remy tells you to have a little faith in him, pressing one last kiss to the swell of one said breast as he moves back up. He easily draws you into another long, heated kiss. He continues to play with the breast in his hand, pinching and testing the supple give of the skin. Your muffled whines and moans are music to his ears as he presses his knee against your heated core, only relenting with his playful touches when he slides his palm under your spine, forcing you to arch your back. He lets go of your lips to drag his attention back to your breast, now sucking at the stiff peaks, careful of his sharp teeth. 

    “Remy,” His name comes out inadvertently, the sound making him groan against you. Your hands have slid down from their hold on his scalp, now resting against his wide shoulders with a tight grip on the fabric of his shirt. His palm wanders up and down the expanse of your back, thriving off of the feeling of your hot, flushed skin against his cold body. 

    The feeling of your top being bunched around your waist starts to become uncomfortable and suffocating. You squirm to try and take it off yourself, but Remy is quick to stop you. He pulls it off of you slowly, kissing every inch of skin it drags against as it goes. Once it's off, he leans back to get a good look at you, cursing under his breath as his hands find your thighs. You know for a fact you’re flushed and red from the neck down. The sight only encourages Remy further, quickly sitting up and removing his own shirt, keeping his gaze on yours throughout the movement. 

    It’s not surprising when his upper body catches your attention, the lean muscle impressive for a man who’s basically dead. Or was he? When he’s back within reach, you run your right hand from his happy trail till you reach his collarbone, fingertips pressing into the cold skin as you try to feel for a pulse. He hums, a mischievous glint in his eye when he realizes what you’re doing. 

    “You won’t find a heartbeat, cher. Not from me.” Remy confirms your thoughts. You can only hum in response, leaning up to press a soft kiss where your hand had been, over his heart. Remy lets out a low groan at the action, inciting a slow grind of his hips against yours.

    “Merde.” He mumbles.“You play a dangerous game, makin’ a dead heart flutter.” 

    “Do I really?” You ask, biting your lip. Remy leans in, just far enough to teasingly brush his lips against your own before he moves down the length of your neck, never touching you in the way to crave so badly. 

    “I get the feeling you like dangerous games.” There's something sharp against your neck, the tips of his fangs gently dragging across the skin. Your heart is pounding in your chest, but not out of fear. He grinds his hips into you once again, your hips eagerly bucking to meet his own. You swallow deeply at the sound he makes at the action- realizing that you just might want him to bite into you. It’s crazy. You feel crazy. It must be so tantalizing for him to be pressed against you like this, fully aware of the red-hot blood rushing through your veins and the constant pounding of your heart. And yet, he never takes the bait. 

    Remy’s lips meet your own again right as your hands meet the buckle of his jeans. He sighs against your lips as you undo it, sliding your hand underneath the stiff fabric to feel the hardness he hides underneath. He’s… big. Not necessarily long, but he’s thicker than you had expected him to be. You stroke him over the fabric of his boxers, feeling his length twitch under your touch. When he separates from the kiss, he tucks his head into your shoulder. You can’t help but giggle at the action as you begin to pull both garments down, his cock slapping against his lower abdomen once freed. 

    “Are you sensitive, Remy?” You ask him, turning your head to bury it in his hair. You wrap your hand around his cock, hearing him moan before cursing quietly when you give him a slight squeeze. 

    “Sometimes.” He mumbles, one of his calloused hands coming up to one of your breasts, gently rubbing his thumb over your nipple to encourage it to a stiff peak. You can’t help but let out a surprised moan as he pinches and teases, feeling his smile against the skin of your shoulder. 

    “But I got nothin’ on you.” Remy kisses your breast, before taking a long, slow lick across the sensitive skin. He takes the nub into his mouth, giving it a short suck before he lets go of it with a pop. 

    You almost want to whine and complain when Remy removes himself from you, but quickly lose the thought as you watch him remove his pants and boxers in one movment. Once he’s done, he slowly slides his hands from your ankles to your hips, hooking his fingers underneath the fabric of your bottoms. He kisses the space beneath your belly button, red eyes trained on your own as he slowly drags the clothing down, undressing you until you’re bare. He licks his lips at the sight of you, slowly spreading your legs as he begins to kiss from your knees to your…

    “You don’t- you don’t have to do that.” You stutter out once you realize what he’s doing. You’ve never been eaten out before, and the sight of him between your legs has already got you flushed and nervous- embarresed, even. Remy’s eyes shift back up to your face, his fingers sliding between your admittedly slick folds as you try to hold back a moan.

    “Vampires are creatures of desire, cher. Thirsty ones at that.” He rumbles, and it’s like everywhere he touches you is on fire, his cool hands stroking you into a lustful heat. “Should I beg for you to consider?” He’s got this knowing look on his face, watching you as you bite your lip, face twitching with pleasure every time those fingers of his graze your clit. He slides a finger into you without resistance, curling it just right. You buck your hips into the feeling, nodding vigorously as a final go-ahead. 

    Remy dives into your cunt like a man starved. 

    Every lick of his tongue and curl of his fingers has you seeing stars. Fuck, did it feel good. He touches you expertly, finding spots within you that you didn't even know you had. He lets a moan slip now and then, fully immersed in the warm wetness of your pussy. 

    Your legs are hooked over his shoulders, a hand splayed across your lower abdomen to keep you from bucking up into his mouth as he enjoys himself. You feel close to cumming embarrassingly quick- quick in a way you had never known yourself to even be capable of.

    “Remy!” It's an urgent call of his name, your hands tangling themselves in his hair as you attempt to warn him. He hums in response, right over your clit, and it does nothing but push your body further. You come with a rather embarrassing noise, hips twitching and thighs pressing into the side of his head. You can't help but assume that not needing to breathe was only a bonus for the man currently suffocating between your pillowy thighs. 

    He lets you ride out your orgasm with enthusiasm, pressing sweet kisses to the skin around your sensitive cunt as your breathing begins to even out and your legs begin to relax around him. 

    He looks absolutely wrecked when he sits up. His hair is messy, a pussydrunk smile he's certainly not afraid to hide spreading across his face. 

    “You feelin’ alright, cher?” He asks. You eagerly nod in response, leaning into his touch when he crawls back over you to place a kiss against your lips. You've never been one to taste yourself, but you find that you don’t mind tasting it on his lips. Remy's cock begins a slow grind against you, grazing your clit with every stroke. You moan into the kiss, a string of spit between your mouths when you separate long enough to catch your breath.

    “Fuck.” The word is whispered, but that doesn't stop Remy from catching it. He lets out a low laugh, collecting your wetness as he grinds. 

    “You ready for me?” He asks. You nodd, closing your eyes as you eagerly wait for the stretch of his cock. Exempt, he stops.

    “I need you to give me a yes, cher.”

    “Yes-” He swallows the rest of that word in an eager kiss, finally sliding into your heat inch by inch. You both moan in union, feeling every inch of that slow stretch. He's cold. Not freezing, but cold. It's unlike any feeling you've felt before, and surprisingly, you want more of it.

    His body begins to warm a little more everywhere the two of you touch- and god, does it feel good. Remy favors a steady pace, with powerful thrusts that hit you right every single time. It felt like he was made for you, and he most definitely felt the same. Remy kisses you like a man in love, fucking you in a way that makes you see rings instead of stars. 

    Every smack of his hips against yours is rather careful, measured even. It's only when he pulls out of you and flips you onto your stomach like a ragdoll that you realize the kind of strength he holds- suddenly grateful for his caution. He's quick to go back to rearranging your insides once he has you on your knees, front pressed against your back as he kisses at the nape of your neck and slides his arm around your front, palm splayed under a boob with his thumb on the valley between.

    “Look at us, love.” His chest rumbles against your back, and it's not even a whole minute before the position changes again, Remy pulling you against him as he sits up onto his knees, holding you steady as he makes you face the mirror. 

    You wish that you could see his reflection in that mirror as you gaze upon the sight of you, red face flushed and needy. You don't see the way he holds you pressed so tightly against his chest, or the way he admires that evocative image of you, shaking with each thrust. 

    “Aren't you a sight, bele.” His breath is cold against your ear, his hand coming down to circle your clit as his thrusts pick up in pace. You can tell he's close, reaching that peak just as fast as you reach your own. You grasp at his hands, moans and whine only getting louder as that pleasure gets ever-so-close.

    His groan against your ear is unnecessarily hot, his thrusts stuttering right before he pulls out of you. His cock rests just below your lower lips, using the friction of your thighs as he reaches that high. He cums in thick streaks, your own release following directly after.

    There's a buzzing sound right as Remy sits back, placing you in his lap as he kisses across your shoulders sweetly. You relax against him, boneless as you both try to catch your breath. The buzzing stops for a moment before it continues again. You hardly register the noise, and are certainly in no condition to try and find the source.

    When Remy looks over to the sound, he finds your phone hiding beneath the scattered clothes on the floor. It's his shirt, and he reaches over to grab it. The phone is set to the side as he maneuvers you around, dressing you in his shirt like a gentleman.

    “Cher?” You hum, only halfway aware at the moment as Remy calls your name. He hands you your phone, and you open your eyes just enough to unlock it and see the fifteen missed calls from Ashley and Sophie. 

    “God damnit. Can't I have any peace?” You curse. Remy laughs, watching from over your shoulder as you check the additional excessive Snapchat messages from them. 

    “Maybe we should send them a message, no?” Remy reaches over to your phone, swiping over to the Snapchat camera, angling it to where both of your sweaty, disheveled faces are inframe, along with the line of purple hickies that trail down your neck. Jesus christ, you were about to fuck him all over again for even suggesting this. Who knew you were into revenge like that?

    “Oh fuck yes.”

[esggs]

[Martial arts coach! Sukuna x down bad!reader, huge age gap, couple of god-complex maniacs pining for each other, Sukuna being a tough coach]

“You won’t make it.” Sukuna spits carelessly, unwrapping his sweaty gloves post training. There are promising students he’s scouted in his gym, his favoured ones who’ll be the cash cows winning tournaments, buzzcut boys with tight abs who laugh mid-fight. Growing in his shoes. You’re not one of them. “You’re not good enough.” It’s a statement. 

No, you grit your teeth, it's a challenge. 

Sukuna the Ryomen: beastly calamity in the ring. Raw talent picked off the street, 80 international tournament wins over 25 years, bachelor villa bought with notoriety money. The Undisputed King of the Curses. 

Two-faced, he’d play by the rules as much as he wanted to– ran his tongue over the cheek of an opponent while choking him in a headlock, jammed his knees into countless shattered ribs, snapped spines into halves. He once bit a chunk out an opponent’s neck, goopy blood running down his chin and pecs as he laughed at the horrified screams of the audience, medics running, judges whistling, TV ratings shooting up like firecrackers.

He keeps that piece of chewed flesh, big as your fist, preserved in formaldehyde, on display in his office behind the locker room. It’s oddly captivating– you want to pull his lips up, matching his teeth to the canine marks on the chunk. 

Nutcase. Martial arts fiend. Often disqualified, but never for long: handsome money-maker was he. No one would turn up at a competition if not to watch the fiery Sukuna. His posters filled your childhood bedroom walls, unsupervised access to his gruesome fights on the internet, early 2000’s gossip columns of his many affairs with thin-thighed supermodels, little you copying his moves in front of the mirror. 

So yes, he could be as harsh to you as he wished, who gave a shit now when you’re lucky enough  to bask in his glow? You work just as hard as those boys, deserve his attention just as much, regardless of how cruel that attention comes. If you want to make it, Yuuji tells you, you callus your heart more than your achy knuckles. 

Sometimes at 3.45 am you wonder that if you had gotten more parental love and attention, you wouldn’t have attached yourself so deeply to this retired monster. Too late now, you suppose. 

A few days ago,  Megumi, one of Sukuna’s prize boys, said over a bowl of tteokbokki after practice, “Kamo Noritoshi likes you. So you can go after him and leave the elderly alone, okay?”

“I beat Kamo to a pulp, remember?” You pointed with poked tteok. “There’s only one of you losers I can’t beat and that’s who I’m fucking. Don’t go ruining my ambitions, Megumi-chan.”

The boy just sighed, ordering another bowl to go. Megumi, content being the sacrifice bunt, will never understand and it's not something you can explain. 

It’s that hunger that keeps you awake at night; you don’t want a trophy, you want the trophy– Ryomen Sukuna himself, the greatest one to be won. To be fucked, chewed, swallowed, surpassed. You want to have him, you want to be him. He’s you and you’re him and it’s written fate and oh god you need to go to therapy megumi was right you need to start taking your damn meds on time why is it 3 am again?

……. 

“Sup, coach!” 

You’re a cockroach. You arrive half an hour before session starts, practising kata moves by yourself, grappling dummy puppets double your weight to the ground, turning extravagant somersaults. Standing in front of the line. Every new move Sukuna demonstrates, you ask a billion questions, getting it right exactly as he does it. Running the extra lap, the extra sparring bout with your friends, the extra push-up. 

Sukuna peers inside Megumi's mouth, poking his finger into his gums, checking for any bleeding. Despite his actions, he’s not blind to you, the itchy teeth in your maw. 

It’s not just a sport for people like you and Sukuna. People a little fucked in the head. People whose names, announced out loud, get the audience jumping and cheering, the main attraction of the night. Hurricanes out to flatten the competition. 

See, it’s not about the points. Just the gold doesn’t satisfy: you want blood and broken teeth on the floor after you’re done. You want your opponents to refuse to fight you. You want them crawling, begging for time-outs, their coaches throwing the towel in to save their lives, their teary mothers cursing your very sight. Just like Sukuna.

Sukuna who relishes in your eyes on him. The way your breathing quickens childlike when he wrestles your face to the dirty mat, arms twisted behind you, his heavy foot pinning you down. The way you linger a bit longer when he shrugs his gi off, thick biceps flexing against the overhead lights. What a nut, he thinks: bitten fingernails, daddy issues, all the wrong things that excite you. This one’s gonna kill.  

Your hunger he rears by starvation. The harder you fight for a scrap of his attention to prove yourself, the sweeter you get. He can almost see his own tattoos on your eager face. 

So narcissistic, the way his pants tighten when he watches you fight: it's his devilry that flashes in your young eyes. Too young for him, some noble nonsense of not fucking your student, like he gives a rat’s ass. A rising Alexander, he’ll pick you for himself the second you’re good enough.

He knows to wait for it. Latchkey kids like you, raised to fight for love, you’d never want something you could have. The unreachable glory of Sukuna was what made having him worth it. 

He also knew that once you had him, you’d dig your teeth into him so hard that you’d tear right through him. Maybe preserve him in formaldehyde too. 

Not that he’ll spoon-feed you chances for that. Not that he has to, when you do it for yourself.

“Coach, could you spar with me?”

He’s terribly pleased, but the frown he wears for you remains on his face. “Aiming too high, brat.”

“Sorry,” an apology that you don’t mean in the slightest. “But I think I can qualify for the next tournament, coach. I can start cutting weight tomorrow. Put me in this time, please, coach!” 

“You’re not good enough.”   “Let me convince you, coach.”

“Convince me?” He sounds so bored, as if you’re the greatest waste of his time. I’ll change your mind, you promise. I’d like to see you try– he’s amused. “Oi, Todo! C’mere, beat this one for me. You–” he bends down to hold your chin, privately delighted at your blushing face. “– you score six points in sixty seconds against him, maybe I’ll think of putting you on the tournament roster.”

Right. Aoi Todo, brawler build, has the height and weight advantage on you, which means he’ll go for grappling techniques and try to pin you down to the ground. He’s not the type to go easy on anyone, and he likes to show off, so he’ll keep it short distance and try out some fancy kicks– he’ll waste time on performance and then you’ll get time to return attacks. Here’s the M.O. then: you keep light on your feet, dodge every single attack of his, and go for the head. Amen.

Todo squares up, entering the ring, dabbing you up in a show of good faith before assuming his fighting stance. Just as you predicted, his arms are open to take you down. 

You hold your ground. Todo, my friend, you grin at Sukuna, who for once has all his attention on you, I’m going to kill you. 

Sukuna blows the whistle, and immediately Todo lunges for you. A feint, for he changes tactics immediately and is punching you from the left. You have to jump over his shoulder to avoid it (Yuuji whoops), land behind his back, and before he can turn around, kick his spine so hard that he stumbles forward a bit. 

“2 points!” Sukuna checks the time: it’s been 6 seconds. 

Todo’s impressed too, you can tell. You’re distracted: Sukuna nodded at you! Both of you come back to your original positions, ready for the next point match. The whistle blows. 

He’s cautious this time– you kick his shins but he doesn’t yield an inch, so you attempt an upper-cut, but are caught unawares by his hook straight to your mouth. 

“Todo–1 point!” Your jaw feels dislocated, there’s tears threatening to brim in your eyes. Did you forget your meds again? Why can’t you stop giggling? 35 seconds gone.

Restart. You’re playing dirty now, tripping his ankle as he comes forward to attack. You pass through between his legs (using his height to your own advantage) to get behind him again. As if he was expecting it, you dodge his back kick, taking the moment where he’s off balance to land a 360 kick– right on his face. He groans in surprise, but you’re not done.

This isn’t about winning fair or showing sportsmanship spirit, you remind yourself as you pull Todo’s face into your knee, repeatedly, the sick sounds of his nose cartilage crunching. This is about you, Sukuna. 

He blows the whistle. 42 seconds, the match is over, Todo’s burst his sinuses open, bleeding too badly to avoid medical intervention. A K.O. you’re calling it. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you’ is Megumi’s opinion. 

“Decent.�� Sukuna’s smiling. Buzzed giddy on adrenaline and sweat, you want to kill the both of you. “Fine. Start the diet tomorrow.” He’s already leaving, other students to tend to. You’re a tad disappointed: you thought it’d be him checking your bleeding jaw, not the medic. Still, you’re happy taking what you can. It doesn’t come by often. “Come by my office after practice.”

a/n: i wrote this while looping bread by anya nami, really elevated the experience