#good sign if you can only find it through touch but you do feel a little dumb just scanning the surface of a sweater with your finger lol

[iamacolor]

some before and after footage from a recent mending commission (had to retake the after video a few times because I kept losing sight of where I'd done the mend lol)

[suiana]

yandere! officer who holds a rather high rank in the military. he's proud of it too! i mean, it's the 1800s. how many men do you know that hold the rank of an an officer? and a high ranked one too at that! not many, that's for sure.

yandere! officer who's ALSO your childhood friend. how convenient is that, huh? you would hate it if he was also your fiancé, huh? 😂😂😂 i mean, what an absolute COINCIDENCE that would be... oh yeah, did i mention he was the one who proposed marriage? not your father, not his father. him.

"father, must i really get married to him? he's just my friend!" yet, your words fall on deaf ears as your father merely lets out a sigh and shakes his head. damn it, there's no getting through to him. it's like he's already made up his mind. "I've already told you, he's a good man to marry. you should be happy that such a noble man wants you." yeah, noble status. that's all there is, huh? it's not like you can say anything though. you're just the child of a small no name noble, who are you to reject someone who's highly respected in the military? but hey, at the very least it's your childhood friend that you're close with. you're sure that he just wants your friendship out of this. it's not like he's madly in love with you or anything...

yandere! officer who's definitely in love with you. you don't even have to be a genius to know that, just looking at him will tell anyone and everyone that he's madly enamoured. and as always, everyone but you knows it.

"you love me?" your breath hitches, eyes widening as you feel a warm flush creep up your cheeks. no way... he... likes you? your childhood best friend who's been showing obvious signs of a crush ever since the two of you were kids? "yes... i would think that was obvious by now." his words are flat, face deadpanning at you. despite the exasperation in his tone, his eyes are soft and the corner of his lips are upturned. "you are the only one in my heart, mein liebling."

yandere! officer that has a different side he shows to others and one reserved specifically for you. he only ever bears his heart and soul to you, his future spouse. he could care less for others, you come first and foremost. sure he might have pledged allegiance to the nation but you're his one and only. he'd betray the country if it's for you, throw away everything he's worked for just to make you happy.

yandere! officer who has discovered your... apreciation for his uniform. he finds it interesting to say the least. oh, so you think he looks attractive? he doesn't get what's so good looking about his uniform but he'll gladly wear it more often if you like it so much.

"schatz, i need to change out of my uniform-" "just give me a minute..." your fiancé could only look down in silence as you stared intensely at his attire. you're doing it again. he doesn't even know what you're doing, just staring at his uniform with your pretty eyes and serious expression. he thinks you're appreciating him but he's not quite sure. you never say anything after all. all you do is simply stare quietly. you don't even as much as touch him! "you can... touch, y'know? you don't need to just stare." he sure hopes you do. what he'd give to feel your hands on him... and he's pretty sure you want to touch him too. or maybe you want him to touch you? "can i?" "of course you can. we are to be married anyway." "nah... i think I'll just... look..." man. looks like he's going to be just standing here for a while, huh? oh well, as long as you're happy. it's not like he has anything better to do anyway.

[7kh]

༉ vi finally has you.

cw — wlw, oral sex (f! receiving), strap usage, strap is referred to as ‘cock’, overstimulation. men and minors dni.

after so many visits to a particular bar to see a particular person, she finally has you exactly where she wanted you. finally.

with stolen glances, sly and slick smiles, flirtations exchanged had you laying on her bed, legs thrown over her shoulders as she ate you out like you were her first meal out of prison. like she could survive off of your sweetness alone.

you all but writhed under her touch, your sniffles and whines filling the room while vi messily ate your pussy accompanied it. a long and sensual lick from your slit to your clit has you arching your back from her, your attempts of backing away from her touch falling short as two strong and calloused hands held firmly around your waist. “don’t run. taste so fuckin’ good right now. been waiting f’this…” the vibrations of her voice made you tremble, having no choice but to sigh and buck up her hips to your touch, desperate to feel more of her tongue-fucking you.

as if she heard your silent plea, her nose rutted up to your clit, tongue delving deeper into your hole to find more of the delicious results of your arousal, begging for the taste like a starved man. “ooou fuucckk vi..” you whined, throwing your head back as tears blurred your vision. she took that as a chance to take one of the hands that were holding down on your waist to take your swollen clit, her thumb prodding and rubbing experienced circles on it that’s guaranteed to give her those sweet mewls that make her throb. with the same hand that was working on your clit, she teasingly slides a finger from your slit and sinks one in your pussy. so tight, so warm—it could get her drunker than any amount of alcohol.

she knew she had you when you arched as her long finger easily finds and presses firmly against a squishy spot, taking it as a sign to add another finger. “pussy’s sucking me up so good, gonna be as good for my dick, yeah?” she smirked as she pressed and moved even deeper, causing you to cry out her name like a devotion to her, to a woman you only just met a few days ago at a stupid bar you worked. “mmh— yes, yes, vi! gonna be just as good f’you..” you babbled out. you didn’t even know what you was saying for real. as long as she kept on finger-fucking you through it.

“yeahhh, i know you will.” she dipped and gave your clit a nice kiss, like an reward to you for clenching around her fingers, feeling you getting closer and closer. “can feel you baby, squeezin’ me so tight. you wanna cum? c’mon..” she egged you on. but all you can do is nod pathetically as the knot in your stomach became unbearably tight, searching for release at the precipice when her thick and long fingers abused your insides, your juices messily coating her fingers, mouth and even the sheets.

“i got you, baby. c’mon, let go for me. i’m right here.” she mumbled against your sex, eagerly lapping and slurping up your juices. your chest heaves and you swear your vision got even blurrier, “d-don’t stop! fuuckk please don’t stop,” your thighs practically squished her head as she brought you there. she didn’t mind it through. why would she? she would die if it meant a pretty girls thighs crushed her head open as she came on her tongue.

“cumming, ‘m cumming vi, fuck—!!” you braced her as you threw your head back, beads of tears falling from your eyes as you came impossibly hard. gripping the sheets tightly as spots of white clouded your vision. strings of clear and cloudy ropes glazed her fingers and mouth, having her chuckling against your clit as she eagerly lapped and took it all, having you turned into a pathetic, melted mess.

after she was done, she kissed you up to your stomach, your neck, journeying all way up until she found your lips. when she finally made it back to your mouth, her lips and chin were glistening in your essence, so much so it made you a little flustered and self-conscious, but that all quickly disappeared as her lips captured yours. when you moaned into her mouth, her tongue slickly slipped inside your mouth, making her taste you on her tongue. she pulled back slightly, speaking against your lips, “y’taste that? taste so fuckin’ good, huh?” you could only nod weakly as a response, not letting you reply verbally as she kissed you again, making sure you tasted all of you.

you feel her fat cock slide against your slippery and wet slit teasingly, earning her a weak mewl against her lips. “yeah? you want it?” you feel her shit-eating grin against your lips, having you sniffle under her. “a-ahuh, want it so bad vi, please..” she kissed just right besides your lips before she angled her hips in a way that her tip would tease your entrance but not going quite there yet. she wants to feel you squirm first. she quickly got what she wanted, of course. “please—please, vi..” you pitifully bucked up your hips, desperate for any type of friction. your begging brought a chuckle out of her, standing up fully as she grabbed your thighs, folding you like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“alright, alright, i’ll give ya what you want. you don’t gotta beg no more, i got you.” she spreads your thighs further, wanting to see her slide into your pussy and watch her cock slowly disappear in it. “look at that..” she murmured under her breath, the sight giving more heat to her core. you bit your lip down, tilting your head back slightly as you failed to keep your voice leveled as she filled you up so good, inch by inch. “oh my gods, vi,” you breathed out, barely even having the time to actually react as she fully sheathed in you, filling you up impossibly good. she groaned as she slowly thrusted into you, getting off at your pussy making sweet squelching sounds that filled up the room. it spurred her on, making her increase her pace so that the noises of wet skin smacking contributed to the nasty sounds that surrounded the room as well.

you squeezed your eyes shut despite looking at you through it all. having vi so deep inside you just felt so, so right. you could get used to this. “mmh, been thinkin’ about this for so long..” you repeated her past saying to her. she rocked into you more, pulling out a little more than wanted before she slammed back into you again, earning a delicious cry from you. “you wanted this so bad, doll? thought about it a lot?” she tilted her head at you. “s-so bad, vi..” you sniffled. “yeah baby?” she panted out, “how much? tell me.” you mewled, your back taut at her words. you were too turned on to care about the potential embarrassment of your confession right now. “nngh, ‘til it hurt— fuck!”

vi let out a low growl, her fingers gripping your thighs a little tighter. “you're gonna kill me," she panted. she took it as a sigh to go harder, deeper, making sure she can do better than your pesky fantasies.

“haah.. yeahhh, that’s it, take it just like that baby..” she moaned, her grip on your thighs growing more firm as she increasingly went harder and deeper, grinning when she heard you moan under her. “oh fuuuckk, vi—!! in s’deep, s’full..” you cried out. you felt her hand graze your tummy before slowly pushing down on it, making you both feel her cock poke through your stomach, your breath caught in your throat. “yeah? y’feel that? feel me deep inside you?” you nodded pathetically, your pussy clenching around her at her words. “ahuh, so deep, feels so…” she leaned in closer at your words, the action making her angle her hips better so that she can hit the spot that makes form tears in your eyes. “mhmm, feels so what? tell vi allll about it.” she pressed a soft kiss right besides your lips as she continued to drill into you, such a vast contrast knocking all of the words from your mouth. babbles of her name spilled from your lips as if it was the only word on your mind right now. mind full with just vi, vi, vi.

“vi— shit! getting close, ‘m getting close..” her cock reached impossibly deep, making your legs shake around her. you didn’t even know that you could get as deep as this until vi came around. thank the gods for leading her to you. her abdomen clenches, feeling herself slightly quivering from her own pleasure. she could cum just like this, deep inside you and hearing pretty wanton moans fall from your pretty mouth. every ridge finds comfort in the home of your pussy, fitting like a puzzle, like the gods lined you together just for you to take her cock. “yeah? you getting close f’me baby?” she breathes out, punting her cock deeper and harder, determined to bring you to that edge again, splitting you open with every jarring snap of her hips.

“cum, pl-leease vi, need t’cum so badly, baby please—“ she looked down at you, and fuck weren’t you ruined. tears lumping up your pretty eyelashes, drool from your pretty mouth, cheeks stained by your tears. you were so beautiful. “c’mon, give it t’me, cum alll over my cock, i got you, fuuckkk…” with a few final thrusts, you crying out her name and the both of you cooing out dirty praises, you came harder than last time, spoiling her cock with creamy cum that even gave a pretty white ring around the shaft.

it didn’t take long at all for her to cum right after you, trembling slightly as she moaned out your name and fucked you through your orgasm. she started kissing all over your face, each kiss followed by sweet nothings against your skin. she never pulled out fully, only slightly as she raised herself up, grinning and looking down at your fucked out expression. no way she was going to stop now.

“think you can give me one more?”

© 7KH 2024, all rights reserved — do not claim, modify, copy or translate my content.

[reignpage]

The Other Man

Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3

Your worst nightmare is avoiding your eyes. 

Still sweating and slightly out of breath from the sprint you made from your home to the hospital, you try to wipe your hands down the material of your jeans, and you’re mortified to find them shaking. 

Is it from adrenaline or from fear? 

When they said they found your husband, alive, and he’s been fixed up all brand new, you thought everything would be fine, that things would go back to normal. Your home will finally stop being so stifling, you won’t burn a hole through your carpet from all the pacing like your friend tried to joke, and you no longer have to hold yourself at night just to stop from hyperventilating.

But when you look at his eyes and see only confusion and a drop of anxiety, you know something’s gone terribly wrong. 

“He suffered trauma to the head and we noticed no signs of it during surgery, so the symptoms only showed up now. We’re sorry we hadn’t been able to warn you ahead of time,” the doctor says. 

Maybe now your hands are shaking from anger. 

You step towards the doctor, the sterile smell of latex gloves and death stinging your nose, and you splutter out, “What are you talking about? What’s wrong with my husband? Why is no one just telling me straight up?”

He flinches. 

They both do. 

You don’t feel bad, can’t feel bad. 

The doctor opens his mouth and he’s explaining, rambling about all sorts of medical terms you don’t know and it’s likely he’s doing it to distract you, or punish you, but you do hear one word. It registers and sends a static ringing through your ears. 

“It would seem your husband has developed retrograde amnesia.”

Amnesia. 

When he finishes, a silence takes over, filling up the room and pressing you to the walls, daring you to suck in a breath. A beat or two passes whilst he wait for either one of you to say something, ask something, anything. But no one does, so he leaves and immediately you wish he stayed. 

“Hi.”

His voice breaks you out of your internal panicking. It has a slight quiver, perhaps from the deep sleep he had been under, or the exhaustion that had built up, the price to pay for saving so many people in one night. The reports said, on the night he disappeared, that there had been many curses, strong ones, gathered in an organised attack, an ambush. They had backed your husband in a corner and pushed him to his limits. 

They did this. 

You try to smile. 

“Hi, baby, how you doing?”

There’s a blush forming across his cheeks and you smile for real, finding his embarrassment adorable, but then it drops just as quick when he clears his throat, as if setting a boundary. 

“So,” he drags out, “you’re my wife, huh?”

What’s the procedure for losing your loved one to an internal injury so bad you feel it cut deep? What’s the etiquette? Because you’re so sure screaming at him to stop playing this cruel joke is probably not a good idea; you already know what the doctors would say.

It would be unwise to push him.

Your steps are hesitant but you push through that invisible force keeping you back. You need to touch him, need to feel that, despite it all, he’s warm and real and breathing — at least one of you has to be. 

He looks up at you from your position beside his bed and watched your hand lift towards his face. He doesn’t move, he steels himself for your sake, you know it, because your husband has always been the kindest, most empathetic man you’ve ever met. 

Then you cradle his slightly cut up cheek and tears stream down before you even know it, a laugh bubbles out and you sob it out. He’s really alive. 

“I’m so happy you came back.”

He smiles, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it’s still a genuine smile and your heart leaps. If he can smile at you like that even without the pull of the shared memories of his time with you, then surely there’s hope. Because through his dazzling eyes, always dazzling, you believe there’s a huge box of everything he had filed on you, on his love for you, his wishes and desires for for you both. It’s just locked away at the moment, but you’ll find a key. 

You have to. 

“I must have been pretty great to bag a gorgeous woman like you.” 

“The greatest.”

He laughs in surprise. He did that every time you played along, because no one else ever had, not his own family or his friends, and not even himself. 

And the hours pass by with him asking questions and you answering patiently, despite the stab at your chest from every moment he forgot, every special occasion he doesn’t remember, and you both relive the bad times, the terrible times. 

Except he’s going it through for the first time. 

All the nurses and doctors filter in and out, changing this, emptying that, wiping here, walking there, and throwing all sorts of information at you. Eventually, they give you a care pack full of pamphlets filled with numbers and websites for support, letting you know he’s free to leave, but that check-ups will have to be frequent to monitor his progress. 

You can tell he’s getting tired; you don’t blame him, it’s been too much too fast. So you tell him, “Alright, handsome, it’s time to go home.”

He cheers up at that, eagerly packing and hobbling out of the hospital and into your car. The car ride home isn’t quiet like you had dreaded, it’s loud, bustling with more questions and excited remarks. 

“No way. He ate that finger? That’s so funny.”

“Oh, his hair is really that spiky? And she puts up with both of them? Wow.”

“He’s still teaching? That’s great.”

When you pull up to the house at the end of the street, all the lights are off and you feel a little embarrassed that it doesn’t look inviting, and  of course you forgot to clean up the dishes and vacuum the carpet. Maybe you should have gotten balloons and streamers, maybe invited his friends. You know the doctor said don’t overwhelm him, but they’ll definitely come knocking sooner than later. 

That’s how loved your husband is. 

You have a bashful smile when you finally glance up at him, both walking up to the door, and it plummets at the disappointed look on his face. He doesn’t care about the lights, only that the home he had been expecting is the one across the city, the one you had made him move out of years ago so you could live together as a soon to be wedded pair. 

Now, he’ll have to live in your home as a guest, borrowing your cups and plates, and wearing clothes he didn’t buy but the other man did, and then he’ll be sleeping next to you. 

A stranger. 

You gulp the horrified scream down and, with shaky hands, you unlock the door, ignoring the overwhelming feeling that you’re losing an uphill battle, that things will never be the same, and he’ll never love you, not like he did. 

Your husband is loyal to a fault; he won’t leave you, not because he loves you, not because he can’t imagine being anywhere else but here, with you, but because there’s a ring on his left finger that he keeps playing around with like it feels wrong to have it on. 

And the realisation that you don’t care, that you have enough love for the both of you, that you want, need, to have him in any way he’ll let you, creates a dull ache in your stomach.

You don’t try to smile when you turn to him, even when he does. 

All you say is,

“Welcome home, Satoru.”

[joonieskinks]

happy two years on tumblr to me today!! 🥳

here’s my favorite shy boy to celebrate

simon ghost riley who is too nervous to talk to you or approach you. you’re just so naturally gorgeous and put together, he’s afraid he’ll say something wrong and scare you off. so he just continues to observe from afar. kinda feels pathetic, like he’s back in elementary school, but he can’t help it.

you’re the pretty diplomatic relations officer on the 141 team, a newer addition who helps with all the paperwork and policy. you work more with captain price, however you conduct meetings sometimes and talk to the guys here and there for their opinions.

simon ghost riley who still remembers the first day you spoke to him, everything you said, hell, the first time you so much as looked into his eyes. your gorgeous smile turned his tummy upside down and he has the stunning image of you engraved into his mind. little did he know, you thought he had the prettiest, bluest eyes you’ve ever seen.

you make excuses just to touch him too, handing papers over for him to sign and slipping your hand over his. or going to walk past him but then holding onto his arm to tell him good morning. simon thinks you do this with everyone because you’re so open and kind like that, but you save all your special attention for him only.

simon ghost riley who one day has had enough of johnny stealing your attention and asking you out right in front of him. he’s sick and tired of kyle making up the dumbest reasons to include you in physical training just to touch you and “help your form”.

enough of that shit.

so he takes things into his own hands and comes storming into your meeting with price. both of you look up rather surprised at the sudden and brooding intrusion, right in the middle of some document reviewing-

“we need to talk.” simon declares, eyes unmoving from yours, intense, desperate… if you didn’t have your understanding of him, you’d think he wanted to beat you up.

“riley, this is hardly the appropriate time, we-“

“it’s okay, captain. we’ll be quick, yeah?” you nod at simon and he immediately turns around to the hallway. you get up slowly, looking at john and he matches your “okay then” look.

simon ghost riley who is pacing, he’s cracking his fingers and playing with his belt loops. it suddenly hits him that he’s finally gonna be alone with the woman he finds absolutely irresistible. can he control himself? will he make a fool out of himself? will you reciprocate if he goes through with this? if you don’t, then what? fuck.

“simon?” you start, closing the office door behind you, leaving you two alone. “everything okay?”

he’s fawning over your big doe eyes, full of concern and empathy for him, utterly focused on him. it makes the crotch of his pants tighten and he has the strongest urge to pull you to him. he’d take you in the hallway up against the wall here if you’d let him. but he’s getting ahead of himself here.

“uh- yea. good.” he manages to stutter out. god, he’s never felt this nervous in his life. for once it feels like he truly cares what will happen to him. he cares for you, wants something with you. well, only one way to find out. no more stalling. enough of this shit.

simon ghost riley who strides towards you, taking off his mask in the process and bringing your head into his hands. he connects his lips to yours before you can protest. you just feel warmth and you lean into him. his fingers dive into your hair, deepening the kiss and he’s over the moon. you actually seem to want him too, you’re reciprocating and his nerves are eagerly replaced by thoughts of you moaning out his name as your hands move to his waist.

when you pull back for air, you’re met with Simon’s eyes glazed over by lust for you. his lips are pink, puffy and he’s still looking at yours like he’s not had his fill of them yet. “want you… ‘long time” he murmurs out before reconnecting. he’s overcome by your taste, your warmth and your fingers slipping into his pants. it makes him moan into your mouth, his hands flying to your hips, pushing you roughly up against the wall.

simon ghost riley who only raises his eyebrows as if to ask the question and you’re rapidly nodding. yes, yes, god, yes please take me.

“all yours” you whisper against his mouth, arms crossing behind his neck. the possessiveness that he tries to push down comes bubbling up and escapes his mouth with a groan.

he hoists you up, grasping your ass and your legs wrap around his waist.

“always been yours, si”

“good. ‘cus now you’re gonna be a good girl and show me.”

[orangeblossomsintheair]

EAT | CS55

carlos sainz jr LOVES pussy guys

carlos only ever wants what’s best for his pretty girl.

he lives for the way your eyes light up when you smile, for the way you soften and melt into his arms like you were made to fit there.

that’s why he’s here now, kneeling at the edge of your bed, his hands moving tenderly as he works to remove your heels after a long night.

the soft glow from the bedside lamp catches in his dark hair, casting shadows across his face as he carefully peels off each heel, one by one.

he looks up, eyes flicking to your face as he gently lifts your ankle, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the delicate skin. he studies your expression, searching for any sign of discomfort, eyes wide in that puppy-like way only he can pull off.

when he finds none, only sees the slow rise and fall of your breath and the way your eyes flutter closed, he smiles to himself, content.

his lips move higher, kissing up your leg, every touch sending a ripple of warmth through you. he stops just shy of your thigh, his cheek resting against your skin as he exhales softly, the heat of his breath making you shiver.

his fingers find the hem of your skirt, toying with it lazily, the rough pads of his fingertips brushing against your thigh like he has all the time in the world.

his dark eyes lift to meet yours, heavy-lidded and full of something you can’t quite name but feel deep in your core. he tilts his head, his voice a low, teasing rasp. “can i pull this off, cariño?”

the question lingers in the air, soft but charged.

he’s not just asking, it’s an offering, a promise that he’ll only go as far as you let him. and yet, there’s something in the way he looks at you, a quiet confidence that says he already knows your answer.

he just wants to hear it from your lips.

you nod quickly, hoping it’s enough, but carlos only shakes his head, his smirk growing “use your words, my love,” he says, his voice low and smooth, each word deliberate. “need you to say it out loud for me. can you do that for me, cariño?”

your hips shift instinctively, your breath catching in your throat as you try to keep your composure. “c-carlos,” you stammer, your voice barely a whisper, the heat of his gaze making it impossible to think straight.

he raises an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly as if he doesn’t control your axis. “what was that, hm?” his tone is as light as it is maddening. “i didn’t quite catch that, pretty girl.”

you swallow hard, biting back the whine threatening to escape, and force the words out before he makes you wait any longer. “yes,” you breathe, louder this time. “yes, please, carlos.”

his smirk softens, replaced by something warmer, deeper. “there’s my good girl,” he murmurs, the praise sinking into your skin like sunlight. his hands move deliberately now, his fingers curling into the waistband of your skirt as he tugs it down, inch by agonizing inch.

he doesn’t take his eyes off you, watching every twitch of your lips, every flutter of your lashes, like he’s committing the moment to memory. “so pretty,” he mutters under his breath, almost like he doesn’t mean to say it out loud.

when the skirt finally pools around your feet, he lets out a soft hum of approval, his hands smoothing over your thighs. “see? all you had to do was ask, cariño,” he teases, his lips brushing against your skin as he speaks. “wasn’t so hard, was it?”

you barely manage a shake of your head, your breath hitching as he presses a kiss just above your knee, then another, working his way up slowly.

you whine, the soft sound slipping from your lips before you can catch it. “carlos, please... stop teasing.”

a slow, amused smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he lowers his head, his breath hot against your skin.

“teasing?” he murmurs, looking up at you. “i’m not teasing, cariño. i’m savoring.”

you try to pull yourself together, but his hands, his proximity, it’s all too much. “savoring?” you repeat, voice trembling, desperate for him to do something.

“si,” he hums, dragging his fingers lightly along your skin, just enough to make you shiver. “you’re too beautiful to rush, mi amor.” his voice drops, almost teasing, but there’s a rawness behind it that makes your heart skip. “besides, i’m not some boy who doesn’t know how to take his time.”

you try to shift, but his hands are on you in an instant, gently but firmly, keeping you exactly where he wants you. “carlos…” you breathlessly protest, but there’s no real heat behind it.

carlos presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, the scratch of his stubble making you breath hitch. “relax, baby,” he murmurs. “i’m not going anywhere. not yet.” he glances up at you. “you’re gonna have to be patient with me.”

his words send a shiver down your spine, and even though you’re desperate, you find yourself unable to move, caught in the slow, inevitable pull of him. “you’re cruel,” you whisper, but even that sounds like a plea.

“only because i love you.”

his hands glide up your thighs, gently spreading your legs, the heat of his touch making you squeeze around nothing. he settles between your thighs, his body close enough that you can feel the weight of his presence.

the corner of his mouth curls up into a lazy smile as his gaze drifts lower, drinking in the sight of you. his eyes flick back to yours, grin deepening as he notices the delicate bow on your underwear.

“look at that,” he breathes, filled with admiration. “you’re teasing me now, aren’t you?”

the words send a jolt through you, his eyes lingering on the subtle detail. he watches the way you react, the soft tremor in your breath, the way your chest rises and falls as you try to hold it together.

“such a pretty thing..” he whispers, his fingers grazing the edges of your skin, just enough to make you ache.

he seems to take pity on you when he picks up on the small whimpers that escape your lips, the soft, desperate sounds that you can’t hold back no matter how hard you try.

the sight makes his cock twitch in his pants, already straining against the zipper.

you yelp as his nose grazes your clothed sex, inhaling the scent of you and letting it overcome every one of his senses.

“joder... you smell so fucking good, cariño," carlos groans against your core, his hot breath seeping through the thin material. he nuzzles into your heat, relishing in the way your body responds to his touch.

he grips your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed as he begins to mouth at the damp fabric covering your cunt.

"that's it," he murmurs against your covered sex, hot breath ghosting over you. "let me taste you."

he starts slow at first, not wanting to overwhelm you, dragging his tongue along your slit through the material in long, teasing licks. you’re so wet that he can taste you even through the thin barrier.

he drags his tongue along your slit again, the lace thin enough that it lets him find your clit through memory as he swirls his tongue around the sensitive nub.

"could eat this sweet pussy for hours.” he grins, punctuating his words with open-mouthed kisses before he slowly tugs your panties off.

carlos lets out an approving groan at the sight of your soaked little cunt, his thumbs parting your glistening folds to reveal your slick entrance.

"you're absolutely dripping, cariño," he breathed out, his eyes dark with lust as they rake over you. "and all for me?"

he doesn’t (can’t, really) wait for an answer, immediately leaning in and dragging his tongue along your slit, groaning at the taste. he works his way up to your throbbing clit, swirling the tip of his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves before drawing it between his lips to suckle gently.

"mmhmm, fuck, you taste divine, cariño," he praises, voice muffled. "I could drown myself in your perfect little pussy."

he continues to work diligently with his tongue, alternating between quick flicks over your swollen bud and slow, languid licks up your slit. every now and then, he thrusts his tongue inside you, fucking you shallowly as he laps up every drop you give him.

carlos can feel your walls fluttering and clenching around his invading tongue, your arousal growing by the second as he eats you out like a man starved. the obscene sounds of your wetness fills the room, mixing with your high-pitched moans and gasps.

"that's it, baby," he encourages between licks, his stubble scratching deliciously against your inner thighs. "ride my face just like that. use me for your pleasure."

he seals his lips around your bud again, sucking hard as he thrusts two thick fingers inside your tight channel.

carlos pumps them slowly at first, giving your walls a chance to stretch around the intrusion, but quickly setting a fast pace once he thinks you can handle it, curling them just so.

a strangled cry tears from your throat as you feel carlos' fingers curl inside you, finding that spot that made your vision blur and your toes curl.

"yes, yes, yes!" you chant mindlessly, grinding yourself down onto his face shamelessly as he finger-fucked you with the precision of a man who’s memorized your body. your juices gush out around his digits, coating his chin and dripping down his neck.

carlos simply groans in approval, lapping up your overflowing juices, his other hand moving to rub firm circles over your clit in tandem with his fingers.

"come for me, cariño, cmon," he begs against your weeping sex. he shifts to settle more comfortably between your splayed thighs, hands gripping your hips to hold you steady as he doubles his efforts. fingers pump faster, curling.

"come on, baby, I can feel you teetering on the edge," carlos coaxes. "let go and soak my face, show me how good you are.."

he seals his lips around your clit and sucks hard, grazing the sensitive bundle with his teeth as he flicks it with the tip of his tongue.

just as he feels you starting to tense, carlos curves his fingers sharply.

with a sharp cry of ecstasy, your back arches off the bed as your climax crashes over you, waves of bliss radiating outward from your core. your hands scrabble for purchase, fingers grasping at the sheets as your body jerks and shudders.

carlos groans in satisfaction as your release floods his mouth, lapping and suckling at your pulsing sex to catch every drop.

even as your aftershocks begin to subside, he continues his attentions, peppering your quivering thighs with soft kisses and gentle nips. his hands caress your sides and hips soothingly, grounding you as you float in the aftermath of your orgasm.

finally, he crawls up your body to hover over you, dark brown eyes dark with tender adoration. "you took me so well, mi amor," he praises, brushing damp tendrils of hair from your face. "so perfect, coming apart so beautifully for me."

he captures her lips in a deep, filthy kiss, before pulling away and folding your knees to your chest. “i think you’re wet enough to take my cock now. what do you think, hm?”

[wendichester]

°‧⋆.🐋*:･ swimming lesson,

summary. the motel has a pool!

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 708.

The motel is nothing special—peeling wallpaper, creaky beds, the faint smell of mildew—but it's got something the others never do: a pool. Of course, it's small and probably questionable on hygiene, but it's there.

Dean notices it immediately, tucked in the back, lit by a dim overhead lamp. The water ripples gently, reflecting the neon motel sign. He doesn't say much when he sees it, but later, after burgers and beers, he grabs a towel, shoots you a look, and declares, "I'm hitting the pool."

You glance up from your laptop, surprised. “The pool? Since when do you care about swimming?”

He shrugs, that familiar cocky grin tugging at his lips. “Since now. You coming, or are you just gonna sit there like a nerd?”

You hesitate, but the way he looks at you, all challenge and mischief, makes it impossible to say no. "Fine," you grumble, grabbing your own towel. "But only because I'm bored."

When you get to the pool, Dean wastes no time. He tosses his towel onto a lounge chair, pulling off his flannel and T-shirt in one smooth motion. You try not to look—try really hard—but the man's built like a Greek god, all broad shoulders and taut muscle.

"You coming, or you just here for the view?" Dean's already in the water, hair damp while a few strands fall into his eyes, and the smirk he gives you is downright infuriating. "Come, on. It's not even cold."

You cross your arms, staying firmly rooted to the edge. "I'm good right here."

Dean raises an eyebrow. "Seriously? You scared of water or something?"

You glance away, suddenly self-conscious. "I just... I don't know how to swim, alright?"

Dean stops mid-float, his head whipping toward you. "Wait, what?" He's standing now, water dripping from his hair as he stares at you like you've just admitted to never eating pie. "How the hell do you not know how to swim? Do you know how basic that is?"

You scowl, crossing your arms. "Yeah, well, at least I don't have to travel by car everywhere because I'm too afraid to fly!"

Dean scoffs, muttering under his breath, "Damn it, Sammy." He looks back at you, rolling his eyes. "That's different. Planes crash!"

"And people drown!" you fire back.

Dean exhales sharply, running a hand through his wet hair. “Fine, fine. But you’re learning right now. No way I’m letting you live like this.”

“Dean—”

“Hey,” he cuts you off, his tone softer now. “Just trust me on this. I’m not letting you drown. Not on my watch, sweetheart.”

You hesitate, but the sincerity in his eyes is hard to argue with. With a sigh, you strip down to your underwear, the closest thing you have to a swimsuit. Dean whistles low, his grin widening as you inch toward the water.

You glare at him for a second longer before sighing again. "This is such a bad idea."

"Nah," he says, already wading toward you. "Worst case scenario, I can totally give you mouth-to-mouth."

You snort as you're too focused on lowering yourself into the shallow end, water lapping at your waist. "You're terrible."

He grins as he moves closer. “Now, first lesson: floating.”

You groan, whining. “I'm so drowning.”

“Nah,” he says, his hands finding your waist as he guides you gently into the water. “Relax. I’ve got you.”

It takes a few tries, but soon you’re floating, his hands steady beneath your back. He’s surprisingly patient, his voice calm as he talks you through it.

“There you go,” he says, pride evident in his tone. “You’re a natural.”

You laugh, still nervous but feeling a little more confident. “A natural at not sinking?”

“Hey, it’s a start.”

For the next hour, he teaches you the basics—floating, kicking, keeping your head above water. The whole time, he’s close, his hands never far from yours, his touch firm but reassuring.

By the end of the night, you’re sitting on the edge of the pool, your legs dangling in the water. Dean floats lazily in the deep end, his arms resting on the edge as he watches you.

“Not bad, huh?” he says, smirking.

You roll your eyes, but there’s a soft smile on your face. “Not bad.”

taglist ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

[elysiansparadise]

Hi! I love your blog so much, you write so well. I wanted to ask about placements that indicate career fulfilment? Like, really being content with the work you end up doing?

Career fulfillment in the chart

We can start by analyzing the 6th house, as it tells us directly about our work. 

🟤Sun in the 6th house: With this placement, natives can genuinely enjoy their work. They may feel that in their work they can not only use their potential, but also have fun, have a good time, and get in touch with who they really are. It can show us someone who is passionate about their work, especially if there are favorable aspects to Mars, Venus or Jupiter.

🟤Moon in the 6th house: Here we see more than anything an issue of comfort at work. Natives may feel that their emotional needs are met at work, and may even feel that some coworkers become family or can create important emotional bonds. Favorable aspects with the Sun or North Node make natives feel aligned, that their work is part of their purpose while also being something they enjoy. The positive aspects with Venus can give you a genuine love and dedication to your work.

🟤Venus in the 6th house: Venus here makes the natives make their work something that gives them pleasure and happiness. Not only will you enjoy being able to work on something you love, but it will also allow you to have harmonious relationships with other coworkers. Favorable aspects with Pluto can lead natives to feel a deep passion for what they do and reach prestige and high positions.

🟤Vesta in the 6th house: With this position, natives feel a deep passion for whatever they end up dedicating themselves to professionally. There is a deep dedication, that realization of doing what really makes your heart shine and smile.

🟤6th house in Taurus or Libra: Being in these signs, the 6th house would be ruled by Venus, having an effect similar to the aforementioned, if not more intense. Comfort, harmony and genuine pleasure in doing what they have to do. If Venus is conjoined with the Sun or Jupiter, work can be a source of joy for the native.

🟤6th house in Leo: Similar to the previous point, since the 6th house is in Leo, this house is ruled by the Sun, enhancing what was previously mentioned regarding the Sun. The person with Leo here can enjoy genuine and pure joy through their work, as well as possibilities to shine, stand out and be highly sought after in their work, whether by bosses or colleagues. You may feel that you are working on what is 'their calling.'

🟤Ruler of the 6th house in the 5th house: The ruler of this house in the fun house... I think it's self-explanatory. Your work is not only a source of energy for you, it is another reason to smile, something that you are passionate about doing, it can even indicate the possibility of turning a hobby into a job.

🟤Ruler of the 6th house in the 9th house: The direct connection of these houses thanks to the ruler makes the person from a young age seek to work on things that give deep meaning to their lives, that contribute something to their daily lives, and eventually in the future, leads them to move towards that path.

🟤The ruler of the 6th house making harmonious aspects with: Sun [brings joy, self-esteem boost]. Moon [brings comfort, meets your emotional needs]. Mercury [brings mental stimulation and genuinely interests you]. Venus [brings you pleasure, something you genuinely like]. Mars [becomes something you’re passionate about, that motivates you]. Jupiter [brings you satisfaction, opportunities, happiness]. Saturn [brings structure, stability and tangible & positive results]. Uranus [brings independence, innovation and positive changes]. Neptune [brings you inspiration, helps you get closer to your dreams]. Pluto [brings you power, grand positive changes and growth].

Next, we can take a look at the 10th house, which represents our career and professional life.

🟤Sun in the/ruling the 10th house: These natives can find a career that allows them to express their essence, feel good about themselves and will allow them to stand out, achieve many successes or meet goals. Any of these placements not only brings tangible results, but also allows them to feel happy with themselves.

🟤Venus in the/ruling the 10th house: Their work life will be full of satisfying and pleasant experiences for them, from memorable events, important connections, and can bring a lot of harmony and stability to their life. They can genuinely enjoy whatever they do, whether it's the activity itself or the work environment. This placement can also lead them to be highly appreciated and loved in their work.

🟤Jupiter in the/ruling the 10th house: Jupiter's influence here helps them have opportunities throughout their lives to fulfill their dreams through work. It gives them not only job success, but growth, positive learning and joy. They can get jobs that give them great satisfaction on a spiritual level and that make them feel aligned with their inner purpose.

🟤Vesta in the 10th house: Vesta usually brings a quality of concentration, which can make these people very persistent and passionate in their professional field. There is the theme of calling, doing what makes my soul happy, and it applies perfectly with this placement.

🟤Ruler of the 10th house in the 1st house: This is one of the greatest indicators of fulfillment, since natives can achieve everything they wanted thanks to their work, as well as feel proud of themselves and the life they can give themselves. Their ambitions may be met and deciding to follow their own path makes them feel content.

🟤Ruler of the 10th house in the 5th house: With this overlay, natives can make their passion a job, or their work a passion. They stand out among their peers, do what they really like and recognize their value without settling for things just for the fear of not having a job. 

🟤Ruler of the 10th house in the 9th house: This placement makes the person discover new things through their work, things that fill their life, that contribute to it and that allow them to grow as a person. These natives can enjoy pleasant experiences through their work, from travel, important connections and even positive changes in mentality. It can fill you intellectually and spiritually.

🟤The ruler of the 10th house making harmonious aspects with: Sun [brings prestige, recognition and fulfillment]. Moon [brings popularity, stable & helpful bonds and amenity]. Mercury [brings connections, knowledge and praise]. Venus [brings partnerships, luxuries and wealth]. Mars [brings awards, sudden raises/promotions and respect]. Jupiter [brings luck, opportunities to travel and success]. Saturn [brings milestones, status and power]. Uranus [brings admiration, trendiness and acceptance]. Neptune [brings charm, adulation and support]. Pluto [brings influence, leadership and the opportunity to change on grand-scale both structures or people].

Another set of aspects that can show this:

🟤Ruler of the 10th or 6th house in the 2nd house, or making harmonious aspects with the ruler of the 2nd house: When any of these happen, natives feel security and stability in everything that concerns their work life, they feel that they obtain through this everything they need, if not more.

🟤Ruler of the 10th or 6th house in the 4th house, or making harmonious aspects with the ruler of the 4th house: This helps the natives find comfort, their emotional needs met and a sense of contentment through their work.

🟤The North Node in the 6th house or 10th house: This makes the native feel that feeling of purpose fulfilled or in the process of being fulfilled when starting to work.

🟤The Sun making harmonious aspects to Mars, Saturn or the MC favors natives to feel passion and drive regarding their work. They can more easily achieve their goals and achieve everything they dare to aspire to. Ease of reaching that state of personal fulfillment thanks to your work.

🟤Mars or Vesta conjunct, making a trine or sextile with the rulers of the 6th or 10th house: With these aspects we see that the natives are not only someone very dedicated to their work, but also that they act with passion and desire to contribute, support and reach what you see as far away. These aspects also help the native feel motivated.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Through the Corn

Scare Actor John Price x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: rough oral sex (male receiving), established relationship, primal kink, mask kink, unprotected piv, creampie

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Requested by @tintamm for 3.5k Spooky Bingo (Chased Through a Corn Maze)

You visit the corn maze John is temporarily working at as a scare actor. A bit of silly fun turns into a steamy chase in the dark.

ao3 // main masterlist // 3.5k spooky bingo masterlist

This is the event you've been waiting for all year. There isn't anything like it for miles. You've mostly come in support of your boyfriend, John Price, and to experience a good scare.

Black Hallow Interactive Corn Maze, the sign reads at the entrance.

By entering into the Black Hallow Interactive Corn Maze you automatically OPT-IN to our interactive experience.

During October, John enjoys earning extra money by working as a scare actor at different attractions. This is his first year working for a local business and not some large amusement park.

You may be touched, carried, restrained, pushed, pulled, separated, fed, played with, and asked to participate in various activities.

This is the adult corn maze. Something special only on certain nights. John wanted you to come specifically to this event, mostly to see all their hard work, but to also have a bit of fun. You already know what he'll be dressed as, but John is the protective type. He doesn't want anyone else touching you.

At any time if you want to OPT-OUT you can say "BOO" and our actors will stop their interactive experience with you.

Welcome to Black Hallow.

"You're John's woman." The security guard at the front entrance gives you a kind smile.

"I am."

"Said you were coming." He waves you in and then gives you a little salute. "Have fun."

The entrance to the corn maze is narrow, allowing for two people to stand shoulder-to-shoulder but nothing more. As you approach a T-interaction, a scare actor in torn jeans, a plaid button-up, and a stringy blond wig roams the area. Their shoulders and legs jerk about like a roaming zombie, and when you approach, they block the path to the right, forcing you off to the left.

Either John has planned this or you're simply following a direction. He said he would find you. That he'd chase you down.

Out in the country, there isn't any light other than the moon overhead and that which the maze provides. Most of the lights are red and dampened, giving the space a blood-tinged feel. As you walk, the cornstalks sway and move. You hear others in the maze cry out or giggle. A few times, you come across other visitors. One woman is cornered before being lifted up and over a scare actor's shoulder, snatched and separated from her group.

Will John find you like this? Will he corner you? Take you away and do with you what he likes?

As you take a turn, you find a wall of darkness. You cannot see the other end of the corn. No light reaches it. Adrenaline spikes in your gut, creeping up to your chest. For most of the walk, you've been enjoying yourself, but this stirs up a sense of dread.

There is nothing dangerous. Nothing sinister. You are fully aware of this and yet your body's physical response is the exact opposite of what your brain is telling you.

You're swallowed up by the dark. There are no stars, and the moon is currently covered by clouds. Every step forward only increases the creeping anxiety. Your heart thunders in your chest, drowning out all noise.

Something brushes against your right side. You jerk away from the sensation, knocking into corn stalks on your left.

Have you strayed that far over?

You reach out, attempting to find your bearings and a sense of direction. Moving left puts you into the corn. Moving right is open air and—

A large, muscled arm wraps around your waist. A scream claws up your throat, but before it emerges, a hand clamps over your mouth, stifling your cry. Something long and slightly hooked brushes against the side of your face, the tip catching on the front of your jacket. Instinct drives you. Reaching up to touch it, you find no blade or any sharpened weapon.

It's a mask. A plague doctor's mask.

John.

The hand over your mouth slowly descends, resting against the front of your throat. The grip is firm but not painful. It’s a show of dominance and a command for submission. You're drawn against a warm body and hardness.

"That you, John?"

There is a brief stretch of silence before his familiar husky voice answers. "Ready to run, love?"

You nod and John releases you. "Go," he whispers, and you take off.

As you charge forward, you're not sure if John is following. The darkness is almost absolute and you crash headlong into the corn before stumbling backward and righting yourself.

Turning left, you move ahead, only to emerge into a red-lit area with stacked hay. They create natural barriers, and the perfect place for anyone to hide behind. But John is behind you. Your path is clear.

As you navigate around the stacks, a figure steps out from behind the final row. John's silhouette is unmistakable. The plague doctor mask is only confirmation.

You come to halt, nearly slipping as your shoe catches on some flattened corn. Walking backward and away from John's casual stroll, you bump into a stack of hay. It's sturdy, and doesn't topple forward, but it startles you all the same.

You glance away from John for a moment—a single second. When you return your attention to him, you find the space completely empty. Spinning in a circle, you realize you're alone, at least to the naked eye.

John could still be watching somewhere in the dark. Tentatively, you make your way forward and into another stretch of empty corn. This area lacks light, but the clouds move at the perfect moment, revealing a dark figure at the other end before another turn.

John's masked head tilts to the side. There are shrieks and screams from somewhere behind you. Going forward is the only option.

You start slowly, creeping forward. John remains perfectly still until the last possible second. He lunges, and you step to the side, shrieking, running for all your worth. John follows, easily keeping pace. You are no match for his endurance even as you truly attempt to outpace him. The thrill pumping through your blood is thunderous. You're no longer scared, just excited.

You want John to catch you.

A few more turns in the corn and a fist grabs the back of your jacket. You're yanked to a stop, crashing into John as he hauls you against him. The plague mask is pushed up, at least enough for him to bend you backwards a bit and claim your mouth with a possessive kiss. Heat shoots right through you, swirling downwards toward your pussy.

You groan against his mouth, and John answers with one of his own. Your lips part and his tongue slides inside. You suck on it, giving it a light nip. John's grip on you tightens, and then you're being forced to your knees.

With one hand on the back of your head and the other undoing the front of his pants, you watch with eagerness as he reveals his hardness to you. Eagerly, you open your mouth, surrendering to his control, and the way he fucks your throat. Your mouth is full of him, and your eyes water from the intrusion. The two of you might be in the dark but you're out in the open. The thrill of potentially getting caught is its own addiction.

Placing one hand against his thigh, you anchor yourself, even as John controls the movement of your head. The knees of your jeans will surely be stained, but it's worth it. It's worth watching John's head tip back in pleasure as he forces your mouth to take all of him.

Relaxing your throat, you urge him on with soft sighs of pleasure. His fingers tighten, and then he's holding you in place, your lips nearly touching his pelvis as he finishes down your throat.

You swallow every drop, and when he withdraws, you keep your mouth open.

"Tongue out,” he growls.

You do so and John hums with approval. With his hand on the back of your neck, John draws you back to standing. A hint of moonlight illuminates his eyes. They are soft as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip.

"Run," he murmurs, readjusting the mask.

You languidly back away and John shakes his head as he starts after you.

You don't make it far. A few corners and then John is dragging you into the corn itself. He undoes and shoves your jeans down to your knees before guiding you down on all fours.

Amongst the dirt and corn, John breeds you. Each thrust is rough and intense, skin slapping against skin in the dark. You bury your face in the crook of your elbow, stifling your moans as best you can. People rush by, yelling and screeching as actors chase them through the flattened corn.

None of them notice you.

John's grunts are muted behind the mask, but his hands are harsh, fingers digging into your skin, holding on like you'll disappear. You'll be filthy when he's through with you. Not only messy between your legs but covered dirt-strained and sweaty.

His steady thrusting becomes erratic, a sign of his end. Your pussy flutters and clenches, squeezing around him, pleasure surging upward in a wave of bliss. Your orgasm is intense and you have to bite down on your own arm to stifle the moan.

John holds you tightly against him, his release exploding, flooding your pussy. The two of you linger like this before he slips out. John presses two fingers to your sex. They slide through the mess.

He drags you up, flattening your back against his front. Those two cum-coated fingers drag over your lips, forcing them open. You suck them clean, satiated.

When they pop wetly from your mouth, you twist to look at him, and you're greeted with his lips on yours. These kisses are languid. Sweet.

"Up for one more chase?"

taglist:

@km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath @glitterypirateduck

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@marispunk @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez

@ash-tarte @enarien @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[suiana]

(yandere! alien x gn! reader)

the human spirit is indomitable. that much was obvious, especially with how you were still fighting against him even though there was clearly no escape. or at least that's what he thought.

"why do you still fight against me..."

the alien mumbles, voice cracking as he tries to move under the rubble you trapped him under. shit, this was not ideal at all. he can't believe you actually manage to drug him and then trapped him under the broken ceiling you shattered when he was chasing after you.

he still didn't know how you did it. he was faster, stronger, smarter... you shouldn't have been able to trick him like this. yet, his overconfidence might've been a reason as to why you got a one-up over him.

"you know there's no escape right? my spaceship has yet to dock at a port and we are light years away from earth."

the otherworldly creature tries reasoning with you, staring at your shaking figure as you tug at the collar he made you wear. it was a pretty thing, made of the finest jewels he got from another planet he visited a few years back.

he thought it would look good on you, and it did. so his heart aches when you destroyed it, allowing the jewels to scatter all over his once pristine floors.

no matter, he can just fix it again.

"darling, you should stop resisting. you will just tire yourself out."

the alien sighs, not finding your actions amusing as he shakes his head.

he doesn't get humans at all. why do you try so hard even when there's clearly no intelligent way to win this? perhaps that's why your civilization is still heaps below others, like his.

that was, until, he saw you dig out the microchip tracker he implanted into your neck with your bare hands.

his eyes widen in horror, jaw going slack as he screams, body shaking as he desperately tries moving under the rubble only for you to step on his face and throw the chip at him.

"fucking alien... don't you know? adrenaline is one hell of a drug."

he hears your laughter resounding through the hallways, your footsteps growing softer and softer as he tries to recover from your painful stomp.

his eyes shake, his features in undeniable pain as he feels his body giving up on him.

no, no, no!

he tries wiggling more, but unfortunately, his species had not adapted to recover from situations like this. so all he could do as he laid in pain under the rubble was to shout at you, desperation in his tone as he sees you touching and entering something into the emergency escape pod he had on his spaceship.

"darling don't you dare leave!"

he screams, looking absolutely pathetic as his eyes widen in both fear and anger. no! you weren't supposed to leave! you were supposed to be just some human who would give up escape and love him! you were supposed to accept him as your mate the second he kidnapped you because of how obsessed he had become after observing you for weeks in his spaceship!

you weren't supposed to leave him under the rubble like this!

you're clearly weaker, more stupid... and definitely an inferior species! why couldn't you just love him?! why couldn't you just give up and accept his affections?!

"darling! i'm warning you! if you leave i will find you and i will be very angry!"

the alien tries threatening, wincing in pain as the effects of your face stomping still lingered. but of course, he knew you wouldn't listen to him. not when you so eagerly pointed your middle finger at him (a sign he came to see as disrespect in human customs) before leaving in the space shuttle.

he lets out a strangled scream, completely still under the rubble as his frustration and anger reaches it's peak. god damn it! now he has to wait for god knows how long until the drug wears off to finally be able to move and try to find you!

maybe he shouldn't have doubted humans so much. perhaps the rumors about the human spirit being indomitable were right. maybe the humans really were meant to conquer the stars.

[moechies]

Ur fav guy fucking his mom pls pls

౨ৎ ⋆ take it, mommy ! ꨄ shidou ryusei ꒰ DARK CONTENT ꒱

sypnosis: grimy shidou fuckin' his mommy :(

content warnings 𝜚 𓈒 1.4k words ꒱ ince$t, yandere themes, pwop, tons of kissing, groping, no prep, creampie, whiny needy ryu, name usage including . . mommy, mama

“ryusei ! get off me!”

“no.. i love you, love y’so much mommy. missed you soo much.” he purrs against your warm skin. his heavy body lays atop of you, keeping you still below him as he grabs at your face and pressing sloppy kisses anywhere he deems possible; like a bunny in heat.

“n-not now, ryusei, mommy’s got things to do, okay?”

“y’really can’t spend some quality time with your son?” he pouts, a sight you’re never used to seeing. it makes your heart ache, and you sigh.

“b-but, i have to cook—“

“i can help you with that later, ‘kay? jus’ miss you mama, don’t leave me.”

you shrivel under his touch, finding it hard to respond with anything other than your usual ‘yes, of course i won’t .’ he attempts to read into your expression, looking for any sign of reassurance. he sighs with relief when you smile, burying himself in the crook of your collarbone when you run a hand through the soft of his fluffy hair. because he knows, knows that you’ve fallen into his trap once again.

. . ♡

ryusei only loves you. maybe it’s the fact that you’re the only one out of thousands of individuals that he’s ever met, that has shown him unconditional love. spending the last 20 years of your life grooming him, nurturing him, regardless of anything that has happened within the span of his fucked up life, he’s never found another like his own mother.

he can’t help but love you more than a son should love his mother, clinging onto you at any moment given possible when he isn’t out solely to play soccer for his profession.

the brat almost always gets into dangerous situations after a bad game, rushing home to find comfort in his mothers presence, as well as in her sloppy cunt. you attempt to scold him, but everything simply goes in one ear and out the next when he’s desperate for some lovin’ from his mother.

“i know.. i know already, okay? jus’ missed you so much. couldn’t wait to come home..” he mumbles, pressing his hot lips against yours. it’s overwhelming, his soft hands roaming your body and groping the flesh of your tits from under your shirt, the soft fat of them falling in between his fingers. “really just missed you s’much mama. forgive me, ‘kay?”

how heartless would you be if you didn’t ?

♡ . .

“w’na make you feel good. can i , mommy ? please ? w’na have you so bad.” he whines, fingers tugging at your shirt, quickly pulling them above your tits causing you to squeal. he wastes no time listening to your complaints, whining about how he’s too crude, and how he needs to be patient, instead he quickly latches onto your swollen bud. his strained cock unwittingly humps into the sheets, the wet sticky patch that leaks from his cock head dirtying his boxers.

ones you’d have to wash later, and look back on the ‘guilt‘ of your two’s doings.

he’s messy, and his spit coats not only your puffy areola but the fat of your tit. he gropes at your tit simultaneously, causing you to arch your back away from the rough sensation.

“r-ryusei hnn— too rough.”

“sorryyy. . didn’t mean t’mommy.” he mumbles, catching your lips in a heated kiss.

meanwhile, his hand travels below, pulling himself out of the confinement of his boxers. he sighs into your mouth out of relief, the warmth of his shaft unintentionally rubbing against your naked thigh. it makes you whine, squeezing your eyes tight.

“ryusei..” you mumble into the kiss , catching his attention. “you’re such a good boy f’mommy baby.” you coo with a light smile. his gaze softens, an ill-intentioned grin that spreads across his face. he yearns for your free hand, intertwining his bigger fingers with yours.

“can i fuck you now ? please, can’t wait anymore. it hurts , mommy.” he whines, leading your gaze down below where he fervidly attempts to rub out the ache in his cock. it’s a sight you’ve seen many times before, but one that you’re never able to get used to.

he’s heavy, and thick, the rotund tip leaking of creamy pre. his balls swell with need, desperate for any sort of release. he’s thickest around the middle, veins bulging across the entirety of his fat shaft. you find yourself salivating at the sight, quickly tidying your appearance before he has time to make fun of your expression.

“such a pretty sight, baby.” you coo, hoisting yourself onto your forearms to press a soft kiss against his cheek.

“t-thank you, mommy.” he mumbles, a light blush of pink painting over his cheeks. he’s unable to look into you, embarrassed, but doesn’t waste time to press a kiss on the tip of your nose to show his appreciation.

he rubs the swollen head against the pudgy slit of your cunt waiting for approval, shivering when he feels his pre mix into the slick of your arousal. his grip on your hand grows tighter, attempting to press further into your silky cunt.

“mommy, please—“

“mhm, be good for mommy, okay? go ahead, p-put it in, ryusei.”

you find yourself barely able to breathe throughout the the desperation, watching as his pupils grow into large black voids, shaped into hearts.

he wastes no time, quickly guiding his cock into the depths of your cunt. the arousal caused upon his teasing causes a slip, his creamy head accidently nudging over your puffy clit, making you jolt against him. he mumbles out insincere apologies, head empty other than the thought of getting in his mother’s cunt.

he nearly cums when he successfully fucks into you, your tight walls pulsating and gripping around him like no other. you squeal at the stretch, free hand coming up to push at his chest in an attempt to slow his movements.

“wait— ryu !”

“mommy,” he whines, on the brink of tears. if his eyes hadn’t been rolled back into his fucking skull, you’d very obviously see tears beading in the socket of his rosy irises.

“r-ryu,” you cry. “feels s’ good. y-you’re making mommy feel so good..”

his chest swells with pride, yearning to hear more of your honey-like praises.

he humps into you lazily, his breaths heavy and to be heard from rooms away. minimal sweat beads across the crown of his forehead, his gaze pacing back and forth from your frenzied state to down below where you two connect.

your cunt accommodates his girth perfectly, fat folds stretching to painful limits just enough to fit his cock. every thrust leaves a coat of pearlescent cream around him forming a ring, slow dribbles of cum spilling down and coating the tight rim below.

“l-love you, only you, love your pussy s’much, i— thankyouthankyouthank—“ his rambles are stopped by a kiss, but to no avail as he continues chanting against your lips. his hands rub up on every inch of your skin desperately, roughly fondling your messy tits, eager to feel more.

“wan’ you to cum, please, cum ‘round me mama. please—“ he mumbles meekly into your neck, bodies held together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

his thrusts become heavy and sloppy, leaving no room for you to squirm away as he holds tight. “hnn— r-ryu, it hurts— think ‘m g-gonna cum,” you cry, shimmery tears dragging along your dewy cheek. red painful streaks paint the back of the football player, but he pays no mind.

“cum, mommy, cum on it.” he moans breathlessly.

you’d never miss a chance to. your cunt convulses around him violently, pushing him over the edge at the given moment. creamy cum coats the insides, painting your walls white as his fat load seems to be never ending, filling your little cunt to the brim.

“ryusei, t-too much! wait !”

“take i-it, pleasee hnn—, just be still and take it f’me—“

he holds you tight, hindering your attempt to scramble away from the feeling, being sure you feel every inch, every drop of his heavy load.

he withdraws his limp cock from you unwillingly, whining at the sensitivity when your cunt clenches around his swelled tip.

he light smile spreads across his lips as he watches his load leak out of you involuntarily, painting the sheets white. he does nothing to prevent the mess, simply watching from afar dreaming of doing it again.

“love you, mommy.” he speaks quietly, gently grabbing your face on both sides to pucker your swollen lips before pressing a heavy kiss. he adores your fucked out expression, barely awoke but still conscious enough to shoot him a smile, and a honeyed, “i love you too, ryusei. ♡”

“goodnight, mommy. sleep tight. ♡”

[mattsnight]

Bsf!chris taking shy!readers virginity ! ✧₊⁺

My first language is not english!

“y’know i can help with that ache, right?” Chris mumbles against your skin, his hands trailing slow figures on your side. You’re a virgin and you’ve always hated it. It’s stupid you can’t seem to find the right guy to give your virginity to. Chris knew about your situation and tried helping you with taking you to parties to meet new people, but none of it helped. That’s why he took matters into his own hands.

“What?” You say, your face turning a light shade of pink within seconds. “You heard me,” he starts, now looking up at you. “I could…” his hand moves to your face to cup your cheek. “help you.”

A small gulp is left from your mouth as he speaks. “Like you… want to touch me?” You say under your breath. Chris smiles and nods. He was so patient with you every time you two talked about things like this. “I’ll be gentle and slow.”

You nod, sitting up to fix your posture. Chris also sits up and moves his hands to the edge of your shirt, pulling at it. “Can i take this off?” You wouldn’t say no to that. “Yes,”

He takes it off before throwing it to the floor. For a moment he takes in how beautiful you look with your red lace bra. He’s almost floating in the air. “Shitttt… may i?” He asks, pointing at it. You nod almost immediately. He chuckles, unclasping the bra. You suddenly feel a big wave of nervousness wash over you. Did you really want this right now? Was this a good idea? You push the thoughts aside as you look into Chris’ gorgeous love-filled eyes. He leaves slow kisses down your neck, to your chest before stopping. “You still comfortable?”

“Yes..” you breathe out. Chris smirks before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, tracing laps around it with his tongue. Your hand moves into his hair while the other is trying to grab something. Chris moves to your other nipple. “C-chris.. that feels really good.”

“Yeah? You lovin’ the feeling?”

“Mhhhhmm…”

After a short while he pulls back, moving in between your legs. “You ever touched yourself, hm?” He asks, knowing the answer. You blush again, feeling embarrassed. “Maybe..” you mumble. “Maybe? Give me a real answer, doll.” He will not shut up until you give him the truth. “Yes..”

That’s what he needed to hear. “Then you know how it feels right? Only this time it will be better.” His hands move to your shorts to pull them off, looking into your eyes for permission first. As you nod he doesn’t hesitate. He takes off your shorts, throwing them to the floor where your shirt is, revealing your matching red panties.

“Fuck, got the whole set on tonight..” he moves his hands the inside of your thighs, taking in the view again. Then, he pulls down your panties. You immediately try to cover yourself up as you start to feel really exposed, but chris immediately spreads your legs again. “Nah, don’t be embarrassed, ‘kay? Just gonna help you get that ache gone.”

And with that he runs a finger down your slit, surprised how wet you are. “Fuck.. you’re so gorgeous, ma.” He says, teasingly moving his finger against your entrance. A small whine escapes your lips as you start to feel more and more desperate. “Chris please…” your voice cracks, failing itself. “Please what?” He asks teasingly. “I need your fingers…” you lay your head back against your pillow. “Where do you want them?”

“Everywhere… please chris.”

That motivated Chris. He pushes one finger inside of you, feeling your tightness. His movements are slow at first, but grow faster as you keep adjusting. “You’re so tight..” chris groans, looking at how his fingers disappear inside of you. It was terrible how hard he got from this.

He adds another finger, spreading them inside of you. “Takin’ my fingers so well, baby. Keep taking deep breaths, yeah?” He says, moving his other hand around your stomach as a sign of comfort. “Feels… so good.” You moan out. Chris’ ego almost busts through the roof, but keeps calm.

His thumb moves to your clit, slowly rubbing it at first before speeding up. He keeps doing this routine for a while, making you feel extremely good. “Chris.. i- do i cum now?” You ask, unsure if you’re close, since it’s a new feeling. “Yeah, just let it all go f’me.. you’re doin’ s’good, pretty.” He praises, speeding up his movements. “Just like thaattttt.” You cum hard, your pussy clenching around his fingers. “Chris! Fuck!” Your hand moves to his, squeezing tightly. Shit, it felt so good.

Chris stops his movements, but doesn’t pull his fingers out. He watches you come down from your high. “I think i’ve never made someone cum that hard.” He chuckles, before slowly taking his fingers out of you. A wave of uncomfortableness washes over you as he pulls his fingers out. “Shit, i should’ve warned you it could hurt.” He says, rubbing your thighs.

“N-no it’s okay. Can we just… go further?” You ask, your voice full with desperation. Chris’ eyes shoot up at you. “What? You sure? It’s like.. quite a level higher.”

“Im sure, please.”

Chris nods, standing up. He takes off his shirt, then his belt and then his pants. His gaze is focused on your face, trying to see if you’re uncomfortable in any way, but there’s nothing bad, just desperation. He takes out his dick. “You ready?” He asks, only focussed on your pleasure. “Yeah, yeah- just go slow.”

He places himself at your entrance before slowly pushing it, but not too far. You wince at the stretch. Chris stops his movements, letting you adjust to the first bit. “We’re takin’ it slow.. deep breaths.”

Then, he pushes in further. He’s almost fully in as he sees tears swell in your eyes. “Hey- hey, look at me.” He says, grabbing your hand. “Does it hurt too much? We can stop.” You shake your head. “I just need.. to adjust.” You say, wiping away the tears.

As a few minutes fly by, you start to feel better. “You- you can move.” Chris nods, slowly moving his hips. “Just tell me if it’s too much, yeah?” He says, moving his hands to your waist to get a better angle. His movements start to speed up, making you moan and cry out. “Fuck”

“Takin’ me like a good girl, ma.. c’mon don’t hold back.” His balls are now slapping against your ass with each thrust. “Chris- chris- chris.. i’m gonna cum.” You warn as that familiar feeling comes closer. “Yeah? Cum for me.”

With that, you cum hard all over him again. Once again feeling that incredible feeling. “Ugnnhh…” you manage to get out. Chris’ head falls back as he also lets go. “Shit.. oh fuck”

“That was so fucking good.”

///

[luvyeni]

( drabble ) love island ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 이제노 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ under the covers with lover jeno ヾ

fling!jeno・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎fingering , sex with people in the room , dirty talk・ ‎0.5k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. idk if ure like, familiar w love island, but a lottttt of the couples there make out and shi (and even have sex sometimes all in the same room). can i req for haechan or mark or jeno trying to make out or feel reader up or initiating sex whilst being in a room full of ppl 😁

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 fun fact i had an idea for a sort of love island / dating show smau with jeno where readers got to eliminate the couples through voting but i scraped it once i started pre writing my chapters.

it was pretty quiet in the room besides the snoring; it was 6 other couples in the room so you couldn't really complain about that. you had joined the dating show for fun; but also with the hope of finding someone you could share your love with — and boy did you did.

lee jeno was his name; and he was like something out of a dream, not only was he not as hell, his body well sculpted. he was also sweet and kind , and granted you've known him for a few weeks , he doted on you — both of you being from the same place , you wished you had met him , way before you joined the dating show.

you've made good friends on the show; the only downside to the situation is you're staying in the same room as those said friends. you hardly had any privacy , you couldn't do anything without at least one of them being there; that included having sex or any form of intimacy. it didn't really stop anything , hearing all kinds of noises during the night , learning to ignore it and not speak of it — what are you supposed to do when there's a hot man or woman in your bed , half naked in the dark? isn't that what you sign up for when you decide to join a dating show?

“baby.” jeno whispered; almost groaning under the covers with you. “baby please.” his head in your neck , planting little kisses , you sighed. “jeno people are sleeping.” he didn't care about that at all; you were in his bed , half naked in his shirt — the other couples in the room were the least of his problems. “i promise you at least two of them aren't.” your faces close to each other; you can feel his breath , his hands on your waist. “come on , just give me a kiss then.”

you knew you should've given in to him with the kiss , but you couldn't help it; he pulled you close , kissing you. you pulled away , his forehead pressed against yours , smirking as he grabbed you chin , pulling you into another heated kiss , his lips working their way to your ear. “see you want it, don't you?” nipping at your earlobes. “you're grinding against my leg baby.”

you finally gave in; a quiet moan emitting from your mouth. “jeno please touch me.” he bit his lip , smirking. “i knew it baby , your little pussy needs me.” maintaining eye contact with you , as he brought his perfectly long fingers to his lips , licking them. “je-jeno.”

he shushed you; moving your panties to the side , pushing his fingers inside you. “fuck.” you sighed, his fingers moving slowly. “look at you , dripping down my fingers.” he chuckled in your ear. “hardly ever have any privacy, i know your sweet pussy needed this.” he cursed as you clenched around his fingers. “can't wait until you're doing this on my cock.” he moved his fingers in and out of you , biting your lip almost hard enough to make yourself bleed. “fuck i can't wait until this show is over , so i can hear your pretty moans while i fuck you.”

you gripped his bicep , shaking in his hold as you came , hiding your face in his chest trying to conceal your moans as he fingered you through your orgasm. “good girl.” he whispered. “such a good girl fa me.”

“when this show is over nothing is stopping me from fucking you into the nearest private room.”

©LUVYENI

[solifloris]

≡;-꒰ 𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬!𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑯𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝑴𝒆.

╰┈➤ ❝ prince!xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni | kinktober '24 day 16 (21…)

tags : long fic, pwp (with plot), porn with feelings (LOTS. OF. IT. because xavier), based off of the lightseeker myths but not lore-accurate, canon divergent borderlining on au, jeremiah as a side character, master/servant, prince/knight, forbidden love, secret relationship, devotion, angst (with a happy ending), sort of a fix-it, self-doubt (both), slight jealousy, miscommunication, arguing, teasing, sexual tension, needy xavier, making out, heavy petting, oral (both), vaginal sex, cum shot, slight somnophilia (you wake up to him eating you out), make-up sex, praise, use of “your highness” “my liege” “my prince” “my light” (from reader), use of “my queen” “my lady” “starlight” “angel” (from xavier). lmk if i missed any tags!

wc : ~9.7k

an : SO THIS IS LATE (i was supposed to have finished this on the 16th…) BUT… HAPPY (BELATED) BIRTHDAY MY BELOVED PRINCE !!! every time i revisit his lightseeker myth something in me dies <3 but despite the terrors i will continue to write xavier in soft and tender ways because i love him oh-so-very-much, and hopefully you can feel that through this. this is absolutely my beloved baby fic and probably one of the favorites i have ever written (up there with dlmly and ewflss), so i also hope that you’re able to love it as much as i do! (ALSO as usual the song adds to the feels so have fun w it i guess !! :D)

taglist : under the cut !! (SIGN UP HERE)

AO3 / KINKTOBER MASTERLIST / KO-FI JAR / COMMISSIONS

Of love and admiration that goes far beyond devotion.

Your body felt thick with sleep as you awoke. Limbs still a little heavy, only barely breaking through the last vestiges of your dream… You were barely aware of the rustle of sheets from below, a hand going up to shield your eyes from the sunlight. The curtains had been opened—something you were usually responsible for at the start of the day, whether or not you had slept in your own room.

Not that this was your room.

Soft, silken sheets of a far higher quality of your own; lavender-laced curtains… Dead give-aways.

This was the prince's room.

And last night, he was all over you.

In you.

The heat of his body was flush against yours, all his touches both intentional and needy, sultry movements of his hips to thrust himself deeper, and deeper, and deeper… Slowly the details began to flood back into your memory, effectively having your body heat up at just the thought of it. And then you heard it—you felt it. Nimble fingers trailing over your thigh, something wet, and slimy, a familiar feeling as he languidly licked a stripe up your core.

With a gasp, your hands reached down, finding purchase in those soft tufts of white-brown hair you loved so much.

“Xavier—?!” Still groggy with sleep, you could feel the haze in your own voice, but you blinked yourself awake at the sight below you.

Xavier’s eyes seemed to sparkle with mischief.

He had his hands prying you open, spread for him to see the very evidence of your arousal, and rested his cheek against your thigh. As if to make a point, his tongue darted out to give another lick—almost like a test. And you noticed that his face had already been covered with your slick.

“Good morning, angel,” he murmured with a smile. He had the audacity to nuzzle against your skin, quite obviously taking delight in the way your face flushed a bright red.

“H- how long have you… ah—”

You gasped as he pressed your thighs against your chest, spreading you more obviously open for him to enjoy. Again he leaned back down to lick at your folds, circling the tip of his tongue at your hole, and you jerked with the slight sting of sensitivity.

Sensitivity that couldn't have been there, unless…

“H-hey! Xavier… Wh— H-have you been doing this the whole morning?!”

He chuckled this time, hands moving to massage gentle circles at your thigh. You could see him run a thumb over the red mark he’d left on you just last night, and a shiver ran through your spine at the touch. “Should I… not do that?” he tilted his head. Slowly, his fingers began to move back closer and closer to your glistening heat. Your breath caught in his throat; he looked so innocent despite the way he would easily pull you into the palm of his hand.

“No, it’s not that, just… I-I didn’t think you’d wake me up like this…”

He smiled. “Mm.”

This time, he let your legs rest back upon his mattress, and he slid up your body, the familiar heat of his skin melding with yours.

“My lady…” he murmured. His eyelashes fluttered against your cheek lovingly, lips barely touching your skin, teasing a kiss before resting his forehead against yours. “Ahh… It’s just, I like staying between your legs. It’s nice. And… I like tasting you. And when you cum, I like watching the way you flutter…”

His voice was so soft. He spoke so genuinely, despite the mirth laced into his voice, despite the dirty words that fell from his lips. He could say it like it was normal.

He had come to be like this with you.

Not that being used to it by now made you feel any less embarrassed about it.

“My prince, please,” you huffed, feeling your face heat up. With a whine, you poked at his chest, effectively getting him to roll off of you and settle for pulling you into his arms.

You savored the moment.

His arms wound tightly around your shoulders, and despite the more indecent way he’d woken you up, there was comfort in being so close to him, comfort in waking up next to him. His presence, as always, exuded warmth in every possible way—you didn’t mind when his leg slid up and around you, pulling you closer, closer, locking you in his embrace.

Xavier was clingy.

And later today, he would be back in a meeting with his parents, not at the academy with you. And that was enough of a reason for him to be even more so.

“My liege…” you murmured into his chest, nuzzling against him to offer some form of comfort back—at least, as much as he always gave to you.

He shook his head.

“Not that,” he mumbled.

You smiled,

“My prince?”

Another shake. “Not that, either.”

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, leaning in for a quick, feather-light kiss.

“Xavier,” you whispered.

And he smiled.

“Xavier,” you said again, with more conviction, feeling your heart flutter at the way his eyes seemed to shimmer. “Xavier.”

“Just Xavier,” he murmured. “When I’m with you… I’m just Xavier.”

Your eyes closed for a moment as he placed a loving kiss on the tip of your nose, and then you chuckled. “Okay, Xavier,” you emphasized his name to appease him, ignoring the frown that formed on his face when you pulled away. “You have your duties, and I have mine. We should get up, no?”

“It’s early,” he huffed.

“You need to be early.”

“But I want to stay with you…”

“And I want to lay in a bed of roses. We don’t always get what we want, Xavier. Not even the Prince of Philos.” You grinned this time, leaning back down to return his earlier kisses with a tap on his nose. “Up. You know we can spend some more time together when you’re free again. Besides… I, too, have those training sessions to get to…”

With a groan, he sat up with you, almost pretending to be sleepy by making a show of rubbing his eyes.

You scoffed. “Oh, come on. As if you hadn’t been clearly wide awake and working me up between my legs… You woke up earlier than me!”

“That's different,” he insisted. “That was relaxing for me. Just as last night, you’re always the most wonderful when you—”

You shoved him by the shoulder with a laugh, finally standing up from the bed and making to go and shower. You weren't surprised at the huff of indignance he let out, but you paid no attention to his sulking. The running water felt cool against the your skin—it was a nice contrast to the heat still coursing through your veins. Different from his touches, naturally, but welcome nonetheless, especially since he'd been quite busy with your pleasure mere moments ago.

Not that you hadn't enjoyed it.

Every brush against these marks on your skin had you tingling, flashing memories in your head of how his teeth would nip, how his tongue would glide over you… how he'd painted his release all over you, the sheer bliss at feeling such of the extent of the love the two of you shared.

You did enjoy it.

And if he had been craving it, you couldn't deny that the same was true for you.

With the shower tap closing and the curtain being drawn, you stepped out of the shower to gaze at your reflection in the mirror.

This was what it was like to be his.

You thought that you wouldn't trade it for the world.

There was a smile on your face as you stepped out, casually covered in one of the spare robes he kept neatly to the side for nights you would spend over with him. "Xavier, if you aren't up from your bed yet, you really should—"

Your gazes met.

For a moment, the air seemed still. His eyes raked over the shape of your body, almost so to have you loosening the grip that held his robe together.

"A shame… If only I could mark you where they could see…" You watched as he made his way over to you, wrapping his arms around you in that same, familiar manner, and burying his head into your neck. “Mm, you’re just so beautiful."

And you couldn’t help it.

You leaned back into him, allowing his hands to trail back down over your body, loosening the robe, the pads of his fingertips grazing your skin to leave goosebumps in your wake. Again. Just as he had done that evening. Each careful caress all over you, pressing into your skin as if to leave another mark of his love—nothing visible this time, but rather felt, for though the bruises below your collarbone could have sufficed, he would always be keen on doing much more than that.

Now, his hand made it between your thighs, tracing over your folds and almost dipping inside—

Almost.

“Your Highness,” you whined at him, promptly snatching his hand away.

The puppy-like gaze he gave you could have made you melt—in any other circumstance.

“Your Highness,” you repeated, firmly. “Hands off, be a good boy.”

Something like a smirk graced his features. “Are you ordering me around?”

“Yes.”

“A knight to her prince?”

You scoffed. “A lady to her lover.”

And at that, his expression softened.

Those were not often words that you said out loud.

Lover—a word so sacred, a word so pure. To call yourself the prince's lover was near suicide; a knight such as you could never truly be befitting to stand beside him at the throne.

It was not something you did often.

Xavier knew this.

"If that's so," he said gently, "then I'd be inclined to yield."

You shook your head slightly, and then before he had the chance to speak—or do—anything else, you stepped away from him to sift through his closet for one of those suits he’d always worn on days like this. With a pointed look you held it out, and it was near comical how his eyes lit up with barely-contained joy.

“Will you be helping me dress, then, my lady?”

As with anything Xavier said, his words carried with it an air of earnest innocence. Yet even the simplest things had your heart rate spiking if only for a moment.

“You do not need my help to dress…”

“Mm, perhaps so… But I would like it.”

"An order?"

"No, but a request. From a gentleman to his lover."

He followed you only to lean in and nip at your earlobe, and it was one last means to tease before he stepped back from you only to take his turn to shower.

Cheeky.

That was one way to describe him.

Xavier just did things, and said things, and you had to wonder if all princes were every bit as lofty as he could be, but—truly, how could you say no to that?

You wrapped his robe back around you a little more tightly, mumbling under your breath about how unfair he was, before reaching for your own uniform.

Having been carefully kept aside with last night's activities, Xavier had taken to neatly folding them up by the bedside table.

It made you smile.

The Prince of Philos was ever kind.

And though dressing yourself meant putting to rest the last remnants of his touch, it brought you back to the reality of what you were. Just as you'd said just earlier—you had your duties, and he had his. No matter that you were His Highness's closest aid, the fact remained that the two of you lived different worlds. At times, it was difficult to comprehend just how you'd gotten this far… And yet, last night was more proof of it than you could ever hope for, more proof of it than you could ever dream of.

You carefully arranged your skirt, looking towards the mirror in the room to adjust the fit of your uniform.

This was what it looked like to be his.

The door to the bathroom opened.

With another turn, you padded the room to give him a little kiss on the lips, before making through with your promise—

His hand grabbed your wrist, and he smiled.

"Just one kiss?" he spoke, and his eyes danced with mirth. You could tell that he was teasing.

You rolled your eyes. "What would you prefer me do?"

"A little more. Please?"

Xavier was clingy.

You knew that he had every reason to be, and perhaps that was one of the reasons you indulged him so easily.

Or, perhaps, you had need for it just the same as he did.

His arms locked around your waist, drawing you close as the soft touch of his lips against yours made you melt.

He was gentle, this time—not quite the neediness he'd displayed earlier in the morning, but he kissed you with such tenderness, such love, that it took a while before you were able to separate and… process.

Cheeks flushed, you took a step back from him and turned back to his closet to gather his clothes.

From then on, there was silence.

Towel off as he slipped on his underwear, you were careful with your movements, his trained eyes watching you fit his shirt over his torso. You didn't dare meet his gaze, not like this—instead, you remained adamant on giving attention to dressing him, fingers nimbly fixing the cuffs of his sleeves, trailing up to the buttons…

Perhaps, it was the silence that made this feel more intimate than it should.

Perhaps, it was the obvious pull you had over one another, still quite unable to get over the night that you had shared.

There was proof of it, too—not only on your body, but on his. Small, red marks on his chest, littering around like specks of starlight on his pale skin… You couldn't help but reach out to touch them, running your fingers over him in a manner reminiscent of the way he'd done with you, and…

Ah, you thought—this was difficult.

He was neither saying anything nor doing anything, simply allowing your exploration of his body, yet you cleared his throat and deftly brought his shirt to a close. Your hands fixed the clasps and pins on his collar, and as you handed him his trousers, you reached over to gather his coat.

"You know… I am not to train with you today," he spoke, quietly. The first word he'd spoken since.

"…Mm." You slid the coat onto his arms, and watched as he rolled his shoulders back to adjust its fit. "I know that. They've called you to the palace."

"I may be gone, for, perhaps, the entire day…"

You buttoned up his suit, carefully beginning to place the little pins and tassels, and you couldn't help but wonder just how it was that he wore these without feeling an ounce of discomfort—or, at least, showing it.

"I know that, too."

"Starlight."

You looked at him.

"The brooch is on wrong."

You faltered.

"…I know that, too."

He smiled as he watched you fumble with such a simple, menial task, and while your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, his hands met yours to help you with it.

"Let me. Before you prick yourself with it."

When you stepped back, you watched him turn to the mirror with any last-minute fixes, and reached towards the table to slip on his gloves.

Looking at him like this, you felt a lump form down in your throat.

It was different from seeing him in uniform—like this, he looked every bit the part of the crowned prince of the nation. Handsome, charming, gentle… Just like every prince should be.

And just as earlier, you felt your heart tear in uncertainty, the reality of his stature laid before your very eyes.

You spoke, and your voice was quiet.

"Your Highness."

He didn't reply. You could see a small frown on his face in the mirror.

"Your Highness." You tried again.

"No."

Ah.

"Xavier."

He looked at you, then.

As if he'd been sure of what you'd been thinking; as if, although he wouldn't speak of it, he would reassure you that you were his, and he was yours.

You let out a slow breath.

"Thank you."

Your head bowed the slightest, gaze averting to your feet.

"Even just to stand a half step behind you, protecting you… It would have been enough. Yet still I have the privilege to bask in your love. Enough, that… Even amidst all this secrecy, I—there's nothing I could want more."

You saw soft footsteps make their way towards you, and when he spoke, his voice was gentle.

He spoke in this way to comfort you.

"If your vow is to protect me," he murmured, "then mine is to protect you. If your vow is to love me… then, so, too, will my vow be to love you. You are not behind me. You're with me."

A finger placed under your chin nudged your gaze upwards, blue eyes once again latched onto yours.

"Whatever the meeting they've called me for, nothing will change. I'll be by your side, always. Believe me."

And believe him, you would. Because it was all that you've ever done. You didn't know how to do anything else.

—

"Waiting on His Highness?"

You turned as a figure hoisted himself over the stone balustrade you were sitting on, settling down beside you. Familiar brown curls and the same uniform that you were wearing, he was easily recognizeable. His gaze angled towards the front as he leaned back, legs stretched and hands supporting him in his seat. "Geez… It's not everyday you get to see students littered around at this hour, but I must admit. There's some pretty views out here!"

He swung his feet a little, a satisfied smile on his face as he observed the entrance of the academy bathed in the glow of the sunset.

But when you didn't say anything, he turned his head to look at you, blinking curiously. "No, but really. It's Xavier, right?"

This time, you smiled.

When you turned away from him, you, too, looked at the front, scanning the gate and listening for any of those telltale hooves of horses, or rhythmic footsteps of palace guards…

Anything to signal Xavier's return.

"He's been at a meeting," you shrugged. And you tried to keep it under wraps that this was much later than you'd expected him to be occupied, you tried to keep it under wraps that you'd been feeling a little disappointed that he wasn't back yet.

Keyword: tried.

Perhaps it was a curse that the Vice Captain was just as observant as the prince himself.

"Hmm, but you've been out here for a while…" You could feel his gaze on you, almost scrutinizing, if you'd believed Jeremiah to be like that.

But you knew him a fair amount. He'd been your training partner on multiple occasions, and he had quite the reputation for being on the friendlier side amongst the Starhunters. Despite his more dramatic ways of framing things, he'd always meant well—both for you, and for Xavier. And while he didn't know of the relationship the two of you shared, a little part of you was fond of him for all he's done to help the prince nonetheless. You'd felt as if, that way, he's helped you, too.

A pause, a little hesitation, before you sighed. "Mhm. Not quite sure when he'll be back, but, you know… It's a little bit expected for me to be out here when he does. I suppose."

Not that you minded. You'd want to wait up for him, too.

"Do you… fancy him?"

Jeremiah's question made you freeze.

"I'm sorry?"

"Prince Xavier. Do you fancy him?"

His tone was not one that was accusatory, but purely laced with curiosity. Again, though you didn't look back on him, you could feel his gaze steely on you.

"W- what makes you think…? I'm—I'm just his knight."

"Well, and his training partner."

"You've been my training partner, too."

"Not as much as he has, though… Haven't you shared the same teacher?"

You looked at him with a huff, and that smirk on his face almost made you regret that decision.

"Jeremiah—"

"Look. I'm not gonna pry, because if you do like him, then that's on you… and him, I guess. But I've seen the way you look at him. Maybe nearly everyone else seems to think you hate each other, but it's always seemed the opposite case from what I've observed."

"Why are you bringing this up, anyway?"

The light in his eyes seemed to flicker away, his mouth pressing into a thin line. "I heard rumors."

His answer was short.

Vague.

With how the conversation was going, you'd think those rumors to be speculations of your relationship, but it didn't add up—Jeremiah had just said it seemed you two had an unspoken rivalry.

In your head, you could thank Xavier's constant invitations to spar with him for that.

"What… rumors?"

"Well, the meeting. He's been summoned to the palace, right? There's been talks of an arranged marriage, and… Well, you know. I have my suspicions about the meeting being related to that."

Oh.

Something in his words stirred uncomfortably in your stomach, and your gaze moved from his face back down to your feet.

An arranged marriage.

Of course there was an arranged marriage.

"We both know Xavier's of Royal blood." Jeremiah continued, but his voice carried a softer tone, and he nudged at your arm in a means to somehow lighten the mood. "I mean, we all know that. And, you're an official knight, and everything, so I'm sure you know that really well. So, it's just… like that."

You let out a slow breath.

"…Yeah. It's just like that." You could mumble out the words, yet saying them out loud did little to soothe the discomfort—instead, it made them sound all the more real.

Whatever words he'd said to you this morning, whatever words he'd said to you the night before—sweet words, loving words… He meant them, you knew that he did. But that wasn't the issue. Because often times, even a prince had truly too little of power to act against the monarchy—and Xavier wasn't even on good terms with his family in the first place.

If a marriage had truly been arranged, he'd have had little say in the matter.

Neither did you know if he truly would sacrifice so much just for you.

"You okay?"

Jeremiah pulled you out of your thoughts, and only then did you realize the way you'd been carelessly wringing your hands in an effort—that clearly failed—to distract yourself.

You offered a sheepish smile, "Yeah."

And while he seemed doubtful, he no longer pushed.

Instead, he got up.

"Well, anyway. Just food for thought. Listen, I'm not going to stop you from liking him… But just be careful, okay? I'd advise you not to get too attached. For your own good. As your friend, I care about you, too, you know?" He gave you a reassuring pat on the back, and then he stretched.

There was a wistful smile on his face.

"Geez, I know how it feels, though. There's just something about being so close with a member of Royalty. When it dawns on you, you really realize that you're worlds apart…" he shook his head. "You know what they say. Perhaps the prince is like a star in the sky, meant to be adored from afar."

You placed your hands nearly on your lap, and watched him move back over the balustrade and onto the path of the corridor. "Leaving?"

"I'd stay and keep you company, but His Highness might get the wrong idea," he laughed, shaking his head.

And though he made to walk away at that moment, he paused.

With a little wink, he gestured to you—"Though, hey! Nice fighting today! Always a pleasure to train with you."

You rolled your eyes, but a smile peeked at the corners of your mouth. "Go flirt with your other girls, Jeremiah."

He grinned. "Flirt? No idea what you're talking about, milady!"

And in a few moments, he was gone.

You turned back to the gate, running over his words like a record.

Perhaps the prince is like a star in the sky, meant to be adored from afar.

And maybe, you realized, Jeremiah was exactly right.

But you wondered who would have been lonelier that way—the star at the top, or its gazer down below.

That night, you walked to your dorm alone.

—

The pattern repeated itself.

Several days had already passed, and night after night you would find yourself waiting at the front of the academy… to no avail.

You could go to the palace yourself.

It wouldn't be unwelcome; you were not forbidden, nor was it unusual.

Yet, something in your deepest instincts told you not to.

And the rest of the knights had nothing to say about his whereabouts.

"So you're still waiting."

You didn't need to turn around to see who was talking; this was a voice you'd come across much more often as the evening neared.

"As his knight, I would," you replied, plainly.

And again Jeremiah moved to sit beside you, would spent a couple of minutes out of his day to keep you company for a while.

You'd suspected this to be similar.

Yet—

"Not this time."

Instead of actually sitting down, he offered his hand for you to take, and only then did you look at him inquisitively.

"Huh?"

"Well, it almost looks as if you haven't done anything for yourself lately. I'm just looking out for you!"

"But, if the prince comes back and I'm not present to greet him—"

"He'd be back with palace guards with him—"

"But I promised I'd—"

"Miss, with all due respect, I don't think His Highness would have wanted you to wait on him like this everyday, either."

Your mouth shut.

Jeremiah had an eyebrow raised, a very pointed expression on his face that made you feel a little sheepish.

In some ways, he was right. You had been prioritizing awaiting his return, and as a result of that, your own personal joys had fallen a little bit neglected. These days, your trainings and classes were the only joys you could find—little sparks of conversations here and there, and occasional check-ins from Jeremiah himself, too, but…

You found that it was difficult to find all that much joy without him.

You knew it was stupid.

You knew it was dangerous.

If Jeremiah had been right, and Xavier had gotten caught up in the plannings of an arranged marriage, then, you—what was your place, but that of a knight?

A knight, whether close to His Highness or not, was not truly required to wait after hours simply for his return. Not that you were overstepping your boundaries, but it was not a duty that was needed. You had been doing this of your own accord; using duty as some feeble excuse both for yourself and for others.

Jeremiah had warned you not to get too attached.

You knew, deep within your heart, with all the love that you had for him…

It was already too late for that warning.

The least you could do, you supposed, was take it easy, just a little bit.

Slowly, you stood up, using his arm as leverage to stand, before dusting off the skirt of your uniform. Your expression softened. "Yeah. Right. A few moments… A few moments shouldn't hurt."

"Of course it shouldn't!" he scoffed. "Come, quickly. I've heard from Sarah that you haven't had any starbread for days now, and it's supposed to be your favorite. She's worried about you!"

The last time you'd spoken to Sarah had been yesterday. She had been your training partner that day—one of your other friends amongst the Starhunters, a headstrong individual you enjoyed spending time with.

And she'd been right.

Perhaps, you'd barely eaten much the past few days, but it had included your avoidance of the cafeteria's starbread your friends had known you to adore.

Unintentionally, of course.

But now that Jeremiah has mentioned it, you suddenly missed the fluffy taste that melted in your mouth, and a small smile formed on your face as you allowed the male to drag you towards the cafeteria.

It was past dinnertime.

It would be closing soon.

"Okay, stay put. Don't you dare think of going back there just to check on the gate again. I'll be quick and get you one!"

It was his own way of offering you comfort.

—

You saw him.

Jeremiah had gotten you your starbread as it began to rain, and while you were able to offer a thank-you in return for his kindness, he was off in the direction of his dorm area with a barely-discernible mumble of panic.

The raindrops were loud.

You watched his figure retreat before you looked out of the stone hallway, pattering drops making splashes onto the ground.

Uncomfortable.

Rain had never been your most favorite thing in the world.

The star-filled sky was less visible now, a gloomy mist seemingly covering the campus you'd grown so fond of…

You saw him.

Before a split-second decision to step out into the rain, an umbrella was placed over your head.

You saw him.

"…Xavier."

—

The walk was silent.

Everything was silent.

Nothing more had been spoken as you walked back to his room, nothing more had been spoken as he reached for a towel to dry off your hair.

The warmth of his touch.

The warmth of his presence.

You felt as if you could melt at it, your eyes tearing up at the mere scent of his cologne that you'd spent days—weeks—without it near you.

Without him near you.

But you didn't speak.

Not even as he tried to meet your eyes, not even as he set the towel aside to hand you his robe—his robe—the very same robe you'd used on the day that he'd left.

Instead, he was the one who spoke first.

"You should take a shower, since you've been in the rain. You'll get cold, and uncomfortable…"

Still, his voice was soft.

It was almost as if everything could go back to normal like this—like nothing had changed, and this was still… Xavier.

This was still Xavier.

He'd promised nothing would change.

You believed him, didn't you?

"I'll… boil up some tea for you in the meantime."

He was taking care of you.

He'd been in the rain, too.

He had barely dried his own hair.

He walked over to open the bathroom door for you, before moving to search for the tea you'd always particularly liked.

But you were supposed to be the one doting on him.

"A prince…" Your voice was soft, barely a whisper, as you looked down. The soft carpets of his room allowed you to sink into the flooring, taking comfort in the feeling. "A prince should not be doing so many favors for his servants."

There wasn't a reply.

He'd paused, though—the rustling had stopped. you could tell.

You didn't raise your head to look at him.

"…Angel?" he murmured.

Ah.

"Since when… did you think about things like that with me?"

And this time, you didn't reply.

—

Your mug.

He'd saved your mug.

And in it was, as he promised, tea well-prepared in your favorite flavor.

Yet, it was still quiet.

He'd been sitting on his bed, reading, once you'd come out fully changed—he, too, had prepared one of his sleepwear for you to use for the time being, and though you were practically swimming in it, it was comfortable.

It smelled like him.

Slowly, you padded your way across the room to sit beside him, your mug in your hands as if to warm you. The rain hadn't stopped, pelts of raindrops hitting the window with no signs of stopping anytime soon. The view outside was just as gloomy—you could hear the gale of the wind hitting the panel, and you were more than grateful to be inside a building.

He shifted. The book was placed down.

"How have you been?"

You felt an arm wrap around your waist, and—and you couldn't do this.

Not like this.

Nothing will change.

But not like this.

"Xavier…" your eyes closed, and your voice pleaded with him not to pretend.

"Xavier, please. Not like this."

Not like this.

He pulled away from you, but your chin tilted upwards—there they were.

Those blue, blue, crystal blue eyes.

"Starlight. Are you okay?"

"…No."

It took every ounce of your strength just to whisper.

"What is it? If you need—"

"You were gone."

He blinked, looking at you carefully as you spoke.

"How long?" Your gaze dropped back to the ground as he released you. "Do you know how long it's been? It's been weeks."

"Angel…"

"I waited. I waited. But I hadn't heard a single word about you from anyone, and I thought—I thought, maybe, you wouldn't be returning anymore—"

"No… no, that's not it, angel, I simply got caught up with the matters at hand…"

You knew it was true.

You knew you were likely being unreasonable.

Yet the frustration building in your chest did little to help you.

"But you could have let me know somehow!"

This time the cry you let out felt choked out; unnatural. As if you couldn't understand why so much of you hurt, when this could easily be resolved if you could talk about this normally, and yet—and yet—and yet—

"It feels… It feels like you've been avoiding me."

Xavier didn't reply, and you took the chance to look up at him.

"I haven’t seen you at all since then. Since your meeting. It’s almost as if you’ve been avoiding me, so just, tell me I'm wrong. I heard from Jeremiah that—"

It was Xavier's turn to frown.

"Jeremiah? Have you been spending a lot of time with him? I saw him with you when—"

"That's what you get from that?! Just the mention of his name?!" you cried. "It's not even—he’s been keeping me company, Xavier. You know, like a friend? Like someone who cares?"

"…He gave you the starbread."

You buried your face into your hands.

"I'm trying to have a conversation with you!"

"I just wanted to—"

"Xavier… Did you even want anything from that night?"

You heard him draw in a breath. The silence that followed was deafening, the air around you delicate—as if your question had torn through the thickness of all that tension, and now… Now, it could almost shatter.

"This… is that what this is about?" he whispered. "Do you regret it…?"

There was concern in his eyes when you looked at him. And it felt real.

Just as real as the memories from that night, just as real as the marks he'd littered all over your skin, just as real as the fullness of him that you'd felt deep, deep inside you.

The first time.

The first time you had ever dared to go so far.

…You didn't regret it. You shook your head, despite the way your lower lip trembled as you prepared to speak again.

"I could never."

Your voice was barely a whisper.

"I wanted it. Of course I wanted it, Xavier, but… But did you?"

Yet you were met with another silence, and the very fact that there was no immediate reply had your heart shattering to pieces.

His answer did nothing to repair it.

"I wanted it," he murmured. "I did. But… I don't know it it's something we should have done."

Your head shot back up to look at him again, and this time, the tears you'd worked so hard to hold back began to fall.

"I can't believe you."

With trembling hands, you stood up, mug almost haphazardly placed back on his nightstand.

"How could you… how could you be so unsure about it when you… When we… We had sex, Xavier, and you…"

"My lady, you know that's not what I mean. I told you… You can always stay with me. You mean everything to me, it's just… It is not so simple right now. Give me time to sort this out."

"But how does that help us now?! Do you think doubting everything right now takes away the fact that it happened?"

"Angel—"

"You can't call me that right now!"

"But we knew this would happen. We both knew it, these risks, the complications of being in this relationship. We're not supposed to be together."

We're not supposed to be together.

In every sense of the phrase, you knew he was right.

You could have waited until he was king.

You could have waited—you could have waited.

You could have waited until he could act without the bars of higher authority.

Neither of you did.

You knew as well as he did that a secret love carried with it the risk of being torn apart.

We're not supposed to be together.

No, but you loved him.

And it was selfish of you.

But you did.

And hearing those words from his mouth felt something akin to a sword being stabbed to your chest.

We're not supposed to be together.

A final straw.

We're not supposed to be together.

"…I see."

You turned around and walked away.

—

This time, it was your fault.

You'd keep your responses short, limit them to greetings whenever you could. Though you would stay by his side whenever necessary, you wouldn't tilt your head up to gaze at him, wouldn't step a little bit closer. It had been days since your argument, and you had been the one to avoid him—or, at the very least, avoid him as much as you could.

You were a knight in service to him.

It wasn't as if you never saw him after that, but you'd kept your distance.

Perhaps you just needed time.

Xavier had asked for it—he wasn't stopping you, wasn't trying to breach the distance, kept the air between you stale just as you had been doing.

Perhaps he needed time, too.

The reality of your relationship was heavy, both on you, and on him—but, you knew, most likely more on him than you in the first place. He wasn't sharing the burden with you, after all. You knew you'd acted too rashly on your frustration that night. But, in this situation… With this atmosphere… Things couldn't go back to normal with just a good night's sleep. They wouldn't. Perhaps the both of you knew that.

You approached him first. The clocktower—he often went there to be alone. It was quiet, and peaceful… and in the evening glow of the moon, a certain sense of melancholy settled over it. Xavier rarely had moments of rest, not as the prince of a nation… Yet, here, you could see little glimpses of the person he wished himself to be.

The clocktower was a little sliver of freedom for him.

"Xavier."

You called him out, voice soft and carried by the breeze. When he turned, the flowers gathered in his hands brought a skip to your heartbeat.

Ah, he…

"I… didn't know how to give them to you."

Blues and yellows. Not particularly a bouquet, but almost enough to be one—small flowers circled around in his hands, tied by a dainty little ribbon…

Forget-me-nots.

The representatives of the planet of Philos.

Fidelity. Faithfulness. Love.

A promise.

"I'm sorry."

Those were the words he spoke as you approached to take the flowers in your own hands.

"No… I'm sorry."

You sat down on the brick-lined surface, him taking the spot beside you, and—you couldn't help it. Eyes closing, you leaned against his shoulder, nuzzling into the soft warmth you had come to love so much. His response was immediate. Fingers reaching up to run through your hair, loving strokes and a kiss against your forehead…

You missed this.

"Do you think…" you whispered, peeking upwards as you settled into him, eyes moving over the stars in the sky.

It was a quiet, clear night. The stars were plentiful.

Perhaps the prince is like a star in the sky, meant to be adored from afar.

Your hand reached out towards the stars, and your fist closed—you could imagine flicker of light in your hand, but you knew it wouldn't have been a star itself.

"Do you think… The stars are our of reach?"

Xavier held you close, nuzzling into your hair.

He didn't speak.

"You only ever see them when it's dark. When the sky is clear. It feels… fleeting, even for something we see every night. Temporary. As if they could sift through your fingers, if you could ever think to hold them…"

Your gaze moved from the sky and back to him, shifting to see him more clearly.

You didn't stop him when he dipped his head into your neck, placing soft, gentle kisses over you skin.

"Xavier," you said again, quietly. "Do you… think about me that way? About us?"

He let out a slow breath. It brought goosebumps to your skin, and you had half a mind that he'd intended to leave a mark on you right there—but he pulled away.

Brilliant blue eyes back on yours, and something like a wistful smile gracing his features.

"To be honest… I do."

It was an answer you expected.

He pulled you back to lean against his chest, and then, too, did his eyes drift upwards towards the sky.

"Because of how things are, it's very easy to end up losing someone you care about. I could make one wrong move and lose you. But… above everything else… there's no sense to the meaning of living if you aren't here with me."

You closed your eyes. The steady thrum of his heartbeat allowed you to hang onto his words, lulling you into the security you felt in your arms.

"If the stars are fleeting, my starlight… Then, I'd do my best to follow wherever you go. I'd want to." He sighed. "I'm sorry."

He said it again.

Something in your heart told you that his next words would be difficult to digest.

"You were right. I was avoiding you a little… but only because I didn't know what to do. I know there have been rumors. If you've heard them, then… you're hearing from me now that they are true."

"…Your engagement."

"An arranged one. I have yet to offer my acceptance of it."

A wry smile made its way to your lips.

So Jeremiah was right.

Yet as it stood—none of this had ever been anything he'd wanted.

The first time you met, you'd spent several years into your formal trainings without him.

The first time you met, you had your destiny laid out before you.

The first time you met, you pledged wholeheartedly, deep into your heart, that this was the man you would vow to protect.

But the first time you met, Xavier hadn't smiled at all.

He was the prince of Philos.

Rumored to ascend the throne, rumored to lead the country—he was, and always had been, held in such high, prestigious regard…

But the first time you met, Xavier hadn't smiled at all.

He'd never wanted any of this.

He didn't choose which family to be born into; he didn't choose the path that he now walked upon with chains around his ankles.

He didn't choose to be betrothed to someone else.

"I still choose you."

He chose you.

And yet the pain in his voice could only tell you that it wasn't an easy choice—

He chose you.

Because he would willingly chase after something so fleeting.

Perhaps, it was in a similar way that you had chosen him.

He let out another sigh, and his face buried into your hair. "I have little say in the matter, even if my heart had already made its choice long ago. I no longer know what to do. It's frustrating… and I'd distanced myself because of it."

This time, you shook your head.

"The truth is," you laughed a little bit, more at yourself, more out of pity, "I'd been selfish on my part as well. I know… I know that we'd started this together. I know that we've known from the very start that things might not go the way that we want it to… but…"

This time, it was you who sighed. "But still, I, too, choose you. I want you. And… I've always wanted you to know, that—this love, I have, for you… It's more than this situation calls for, and enough for me to believe that things will work out."

"Angel…"

"I think, maybe it's because I feel so strongly that I'd gotten so frustrated. Because sometimes… Sometimes, it feels as if you don't believe I could love you so much… that it would be easier for you to let me go now than to force me to go through all of the turmoil of seeing this through, when—when it is already too late for that."

Slowly, your turned your eyes back to look at him.

"My prince… it's too late for that."

His hand moved to silently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the intensity of his gaze nearly causing you to falter, but you didn't.

You couldn't.

You—

You had chosen him.

"Xavier, I love you. I choose to love you, and I choose you, and I choose everything else that comes with this choice, and… I know, I know that you love me back. I have never doubted it. But… Your Highness, believe me. I can love you the same way… I can love you just as much. Trust me to do so, and don't keep me in the dark about it. Please. Your Highness, believe me."

His forehead rest upon yours, and you knew that it was not easy for him to agree with you.

Xavier—always so willing to give you all of his love… yet when it came to him, he didn't know how to accept it.

And instead of words, his lips pressed back onto yours, hand gliding upwards to pull you into this love he had that he could only show you this way otherwise.

Your eyes closed, and he whispered:

"Please, my lady… Could you stay with me again?"

—

Warm water ran over your skin, a lull of comfort.

You weren't used to this—the way his arms, wet from the shower, wrapped around your torso, lavishing soap onto your arms, your chest… He was so gentle. The way he rubbed into your skin was soothing, already enough to make you melt.

And though the air around you stayed silent save for the rushing sound of water, you've never felt so… relaxed.

Xavier had insisted.

He'd claimed that you had spoiled him far too many times for him to count, and the least he could do was return the favor somehow.

But you didn't believe him, not really. You thought he always spoiled you. Even a glance your way was enough to fill you with joy—he just didn't know that. Despite all that you'd said at the clocktower a few moments ago, it was difficult to explain to him how much you loved him.

You leaned back, a soft sigh of satisfaction leaving your lips. As the motion put you back under the spray of the shower, your eyes closed, and he promptly reached out to lower the pressure.

This time, his hands were in your hair, gently easing your head back, rubbing his fingers into your scalp. It took a moment for him to reach for the shampoo, before he was spreading the bubbles over the top of your head.

Cherries.

The scent made you smile.

It was his shampoo he was using on you, and you found that you didn't mind at all—this was his scent.

This was what it… felt, to be his.

Careful touches massaged the soapy, sweet-smelling bubbles into the hair, precise with the pressure and precise with his movements. He was dedicated, and delicate—just right, just perfect.

In the end, he truly knew you just that well.

And his hands slipped down from under your hair, rubbing in circular motions. The pressure of the showerhead had been turned back up again, and while one hand took to shielding your eyes from the rinse of your shampoo, his other slid down to caress you.

To feel you.

Something told you he was holding back a little, both at his own expense and at yours—yet his hands stroked over your body under the pretense of rinsing, motions becoming a little more sensual with every second that passed. His thumb rubbed your hipbone, up and down, up and down….

And then his hand made it between your legs.

Soft caresses on your inner thighs, an occasional squeeze here and there…

By now he'd finished rinsing your hair, and rinsing the soap off of your body, and his chin rest on your shoulder.

He had both hands free.

One running over the side of your body—your arms, your waist, before moving up to cup your breasts… while the other edged tantalizingly close to your core, the heat of his touch almost making you want to press your thighs together.

Almost.

He pulled away.

That smile on his face was familiar—satisfied, and knowing, and just a little bit proud of himself. And up close like this, you could see every spark of joy in the depths of his eyes, every inch of skin you wanted to kiss. His hair stuck to his forehead, eyelashes wet with little droplets.

When your eyes met, he chuckled. It was a sound that echoed beautifully in his little shower space, warmth spreading through your chest almost immediately.

It was a blur from there. You'd hardly remembered it.

Shower aside, you'd found yourself straddling his hips, his body splayed out beneath you. Familiar silken sheets that adorned his bed rustled in disarray, and with a groan, his hips bucked up into you.

The gaze that he held was unique, only to you.

One of love—of want—of need.

"Beautiful," he whispered. "My starlight… you are beautiful."

Though his breathing was shallow, he reached up, cupping your cheek.

And you smiled.

"So are you, my prince." A slight, almost testing grind against his throbbing cock had his breath hitching, and his hand falls back down to grip the sheets.

Your eyes softened.

"Xavier…" you murmured. "Are we sure of this? For you, right now… is it worth it? Do you think so?"

He pulled you down for your lips to touch, an ever so slight peck—one to reassure—and he smiled back.

Soft.

Knowing.

This time, certain.

"It's worth it," he spoke. His voice rang true. "You're always worth it, angel." His hips rolled up against yours, and you could see the way he cherished the gasp you let out. "You always have been… you always will be. You are worth every pain and every struggle I might have to bear. So much so that if I am to die by your hands, then so be it. It would be an honor."

A slow breath fell from your lips, and you hadn't realized until that moment how much you'd been holding in. You shook your head, despite the giddy smile that had since formed on your features.

"Silly," you let out an airy laugh. "My liege, such devotion from a prince shouldn't be directed at his servant…" when he frowned, you reached over to ease the furrow of his brows, "…but rather his servant towards him."

This time you gathered his hands to pin back against his pillows, rolling your hips once more, sliding your folds over his cock—and you let out a shaky sigh.

"I'd say it back," you whispered. "You are worth every pain and every struggle I might have to bear… I would lay my life for you, my prince. My heart, and my body, and my soul… are all yours. And it is an honor."

You smiled, "Your Highness, believe me."

This time, he does.

You could see it in his eyes, in the way the tension in his body had melted away.

And when he smiled, you nuzzled against him—

And you slid down his body, taking his erection into your hands.

"A-ah, angel, what are— oh—"

You watched the tips of his ears flush bright red as you kissed at his thighs, grazing your thumb over the tip of his cock. The pre-cum that had oozed out had you spreading it over his shaft, coating him with wetness—and you took your time. Every movement was slow, and careful. You enjoyed his reactions, every little sound he had no choice but to let slip through.

"Angel—angel, please—"

A soft chuckle.

"An order?" you murmured.

He groaned as you leaned in to place tiny little butterfly kisses around his tip, and your eyes crinkled with delight.

His hips jerked—"N-no, just… a req—a request—" A gasp. "From… F-from a gentleman t-to his— his lo—ov—ahh—"

You could laugh with glee at how responsive he was, and, almost as if rewarding him for it, you opened your mouth, molding your lips around him and slowly sliding him into your throat.

The moan that he let out was beautiful.

Continued slow movements, you began to move your head up and down, up and down.

It didn't take long.

Perhaps it was the tease; perhaps it was how much he'd been holding back all this time—his hips lifted up slightly, pushing himself deeper into your throat, and your eyes shut.

"A-angel!" he cried. "Oh, my— my lady, oh— mnh, s-so good—"

Your hands ran delicately over his thighs as you sucked, bringing your head up to the tip and circling your tongue around it before taking his cock back into your throat.

His groans grew more frantic, his hips stuttered.

And then before you could think, and just as your fingers had wrapped back around his cock, every intention to stroke his length, his hand was firmly placed on the back of your head. He began pushing you—you'd take him deeper, as deep as you could, his hips rutting up into your mouth in a desperate frenzy.

You moaned around his length as your eyes closed, and you could feel the way he was throbbing.

"Ple— please— please, angel, starlight, I want— want to be inside you—" His voice was becoming hoarse. Less coherent.

He was losing himself in the pleasure, just as you'd wanted.

"Hnng— angel, please, I mis— m-miss you so bad, miss how warm, I— haah— ahh—!"

He cried out your name, his thrusts becoming more frantic.

And you pulled away.

"W-wait…!"

You wiped the slick off of your mouth and cherished the protest he'd only barely choked out. "You asked," you panted. "You asked me… You…"

You didn't finish your sentence.

He had spoiled you enough—you would comply with his every requests, and spoil him.

In an instant your warm, wet walls sank down onto his length with a lewd squelch, greedily taking all of him. You leaned forward, moaning—"Xavier. Xavier… Xavier…"

He choked on his moans as you began to bounce over his cock, desperation just as well matching the way he fucked up into you.

Not enough.

Not enough.

Your movements were frantic, a messy chase of your highs—

But your legs could give in.

Not enough. Not enough.

"X-Xavier…" you whimper helplessly, voice shaky, distorted with the movements of your hips. "Mnnh… Xavie… Please—please, Y-Your Highness— my light, my everything, my— my prince, make me cum—!"

His actions were quick.

You sank into the mattress as his figure caged you between his arms, hovering over you, panting, panting—you squealed as he began to slam his hips into you, and this… This was enough.

Despite every rough slam of his cock deep into you, he leaned in to whine into your ear, occasionally turning his head to pepper your face with kisses.

Gentle enough—desperate enough—loving enough.

"Xavier!"

With a final cry of his name, you crashed, trembling around him and clasping his arm so tight that you were sure your nails had dug into his skin to leave a mark.

"Xavier… Xavier…"

Your chest heaved, and your hand fell limp back to your side as he kissed you.

He kissed you, and kissed you, and kissed you—his hips losing their pace, before he—

"M'gonna—gonna— nnh—! Ah!"

He released all over your stomach, shooting his cum out onto you, leaving a sticky mess on your body as he hung his head.

Arms on either side of your body, he desperately tried to catch his breath before he could look at you.

"Ah… ahh… haah… Th-that… Y-you were so…"

You smiled, reaching up to run your hands through his hair. "Very good," you murmured, all praise. "You made me feel so, so good."

He sat up, looking at you as his expression contorted into one of pure, unabashed adoration.

You almost rolled your eyes—"We have to shower again…" you sighed, though the smile never left your face.

He shook his head.

He took a few moments before he'd come back with a wet towel to wipe you clean, and then—as if having spent every ounce of his energy—fell on top of you like a weighted blanket.

"Xavier—!"

"Mmn. Let's cuddle first…"

He spun you over to have you back on top of him, and cradled your figure close. Your head rest upon his chest.

"My Queen."

Your eyes widened.

"My Queen."

He repeated it, firmly—surely.

His head buried into your hair, and you heard it again.

"I believe you. I do, and I will, and you—you will be my Queen. I will make sure of it. Beside me, with me."

A slow, shaky breath—

"Your Highness, believe me."

an : have you figured out yet that i love phrase repetition

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© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[etherealyoungk]

dance in the rain | kim mingyu

SUMMARY: in which mingyu drags you into the rain to play for fun.

PAIRING: mingyu x reader

THEMES: established relationship, fluff

WARNINGS: kissing, terms of endearment, rain

WORDCOUNT: 1300

A/N: this was such a random idea because i remembered how much mingyu loves throwing water on carats during the encore and just thought he'd be the type to drag you into the rain and play. also bc it's been raining sooo much here.

"oh my god it's raining again", you declare dramatically as you turn to look out the window. the rain pours down hard, the grey clouds hanging in the air with no sign of disappearing anytime soon. it had been like this since last night and persisted all afternoon.

"i thought you liked the rain", he counters, giving you a glance from the couch, his phone in one hand.

"i do! just maybe not when it's raining non-stop and feels like the end of the world", you exaggerate and he chuckles softly from where he's sitting.

mingyu watches you for a few seconds before he stands up, walks towards the front door, and opens it. the gush of cold air and the amplified sound of the rain pouring down makes you snap your head up.

"gyu what are you going?", you ask, confused as he just stands there by the door, watching the rain fall in the front yard of your house. "watching the rain", he says, like it was no big deal. he reaches out to collect some drops in the palm of his hand. you watch for a few seconds before getting up and walking over to him.

"wouldn't it be fun to play in the rain? this reminds me of back in college when me and the boys would do the most insane shit and jump around in the rain", he says, reminiscing. one thing about mingyu was that he loved the water and has always been drawn to it. staying true to his golden retriever nature, he loved splashing around in the water, playing around and having fun.

he turns around to you, a mischievous smile slowly gracing his lips. you look at him, the dots in your head connecting when he looks at you with that look—that look that he was definitely up to no good.

you raise an eyebrow at him, instinctively taking a step back. “oh no,” you warn, already sensing trouble brewing, knowing exactly what he was thinking. "babe", he says, his tone almost pleading, that grin playing on his lips like that could help convince you as he takes a step forward.

he gives you a fake frown before turning and he runs right into the rain, the cold water drenching him instantly. you gasp. he only laughs, and it's an infectious sound that cuts through the loud rain. "gyu you’re insane!” you tell, but he only grins back at you, his pretty canines peeking out. he reaches his hand out, beckoning you to join him.

"no way", you tell from the doorstep, watching the rain pour down on mingyu, but he looks so content. "babe please, this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience", he says, trying to persuade you, stepping forward.

"kim mingyu, don't you dare", you warn again, watching his eyes sparkle with mischief. "it'll be fun", is all he says and before you can protest further, his hand holds yours, tugging you into the rain.

the cold rain hits you, shocking you as it soaks through your clothes. “mingyu!” you yelp, water streaming down, drenching you and splattering against your cheeks.

"you're such as ass, oh my god", you exclaim after a few seconds when you realise the absurdity of the situation. you're soaked head to toe, standing in the cold rain because of mingyu. the chill of the water and rain clings to your skin, but it's hard to be mad at mingyu when he looks at you like that - like you're his entire world.

"dance with me", he says, his eyes still sparkling as he reaches out for your hand. he gently pulls you closer, his other hand resting on your waist. depsite the cold rain, you can feel the warmth radiate from his touch.

with a soft smile, he begins to slowly sway, guiding you both into a gentle rhythm. your hands instinctively find their way to his shoulders, and for a moment, everything else fades away; the rain, the chill, the chaos - it was just you and him.

mingyu spins you playfully and you giggle softly as you twirl, and he dips you, holding onto you securely. you both burst into a fit of laughter before he lifts you back up, holding you against him.

“see? it’s fun!” he says, his grin wide and bright, completely unbothered by the rain-soaked chaos.

“you know what would make this moment even better?” mingyu asks, his voice soft. “what?” you ask, looking up at him. the rain had slowed down a bit now, falling a little slower.

before you have time to process his actions, he swoops down and lifts you into his arms, cradling you bridal-style. “mingyu!” you exclaim with a mix of surprise and delight as he holds you close. he spins you around and you laugh, holding onto him.

"okay okay, i get it", you tell after a few spins, still giggling, clutching onto him tightly.

finally, he slows down, stopping to look into your eyes, the playful glint replaced by something softer and more intimate. holding you steady, he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “now, for the grand finale,” he murmurs.

with the rain falling on you both, he closes the distance, capturing your lips with his in a soft, sweet kiss, the kind of kiss that feels like a delicate promise. you melt into his embrace, feeling the cool rain on your skin contrasting with the warmth radiating from his body. as the kiss deepens, you wrap your arms around his neck. when he finally pulls back, his gaze finds yours again, and you can see the affection he holds in his eyes,

“so, was that the best kiss of your life?” he asks with that mischievous grin of his.

you roll your eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips “maybe”, you say with a shrug, trying to act nonchalant.

“maybe?", he repeats, fake pouting. “i guess i’ll have to step up my game", he says with a twinkle in his eyes. "well, good luck with that,” you shoot back playfully. he laughs again, still holding you securely in his arms. "challenge accepted".

"you're ridiculous", you tell, smacking his chest . "and yet you still love me", he says without missing a beat, grinning at you.

“look at us,” he says, a dreamy smile on his face. "soaked, silly, but happy.” you couldn’t help but grin at his words, your heart swelling with warmth.

he turns around, carrying you inside and setting you down in front of the bathroom. you change quickly, slipping into some dry and warm clothes. you put on mingyu's hoodie, and it envelopes you like a warm hug, the familiar scent wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. when you emerge from the room, mingyu is already in a fresh t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair slightly tousled and damp from the rain. he looks at you with a soft smile, and you feel a rush of affection.

"ramen?", he prompts and he smiles at the way your face lights up at the mention of ramen. "yes please", you tell, following mingyu to the kitchen. he fills a pot with water and sets it on the stove, before turning around to face you, the both of you waiting for the water to boil. he crosses the kitchen in a few quick strides, lifting you onto the counter and you sigh softly as he looks at you, his hands resting on your waist. his lips are on yours, kissing you again and warmth blooms in your chest as you kiss him back.

you pull back slightly, looking at him. "by the way, if i fall sick tomorrow, i'm blaming you", you tell, poking his cheek lightly. he smiles softly.

"i'll take care of you sweetheart, don't you worry", he assures, mumbling against your lips before kissing you again.

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[littlelamy]

could you write more angst for rafe? I'm craving to be sad, maybe bc he promised he wouldn't do coke anymore and he was doing well but one day he lies to her and goes to a party to sniff some and then she finds out and maybe she's pregnant but he doesn't know yet 😁

a/n: thank you so much for sending a request!💗

you sit on the edge of the bed, fingers lightly tracing your stomach, the softest swell of new life beneath your skin. rafe’s words echo in your mind, the promises he made when you told him you couldn’t do this if he didn’t change. “i won’t touch it again,” he swore, those bright blue eyes locked on yours, so full of hope and fear and desperation.

and for a while, he’d stuck to it. he’d been good. you believed him.

but tonight, something felt off. the texts had come slower than usual, his answers short, distracted. he was out with topper and kelce, just for a drink, he said. you wanted to trust him—god, you wanted to believe that this time was different.

yet, the gnawing in your stomach hadn’t eased up since he left, a sense of dread you couldn’t shake no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself it was nothing. just anxiety. just your mind playing tricks.

until your phone buzzes, a single message lighting up the screen. it’s topper.

you might wanna come get your boy.

your heart sinks. you stare at the screen, dread pooling in your gut. you can feel the blood drain from your face, your fingers shaking as you type back a response.

where is he?

the seconds stretch into an eternity as you wait for the reply, the silence in your room deafening. when it finally pings, the answer is simple.

party at kelce’s.

you stare at the message, the words burning into your brain. you don’t even need to ask to know what rafe is doing there. kelce’s parties are notorious for one thing—coke. it’s everywhere, flowing as freely as the alcohol.

and rafe…he promised you. he promised he’d never touch that shit again.

you stand up, legs shaking as you grab your keys off the dresser, the weight of your growing secret pressing against your ribs. you haven’t told him yet. you hadn’t even planned to tell him tonight. but now, every instinct screams at you to get to him, to stop him before he ruins everything.

the drive to kelce’s house feels endless, the night blurring outside the window as your mind races with thoughts of what you’ll find when you get there. rafe had done so well these last few months. he had tried—really tried—and you were so proud of him for it. but addiction doesn’t just disappear, no matter how much you both wanted it to.

your hands tighten around the steering wheel as you pull up to the house. the bass of the music pulses through the air, shaking the ground beneath your feet as you step out of the car. the usual crowd is scattered around the yard, red solo cups in hand, laughter and shouting cutting through the night. but your eyes aren’t on them. you’re only focused on finding him.

as you push your way through the crowd, the smell of alcohol and smoke thick in the air, your heart pounds in your chest, a sickening rhythm that echoes the dread building inside you. you glance around, scanning the faces, searching for that familiar blond head.

and then, you see him.

he’s leaning against the bar, back turned to you, and your breath catches in your throat. even from a distance, you can see it—the slight twitch in his movements, the telltale signs that you know all too well. he’s on edge, more animated than usual, and you know. you don’t even need to get closer to know what he’s done.

he’s broken his promise.

you feel a wave of nausea crash over you as you step forward, heart hammering in your chest. every step feels heavy, like you’re walking through water, slow and inevitable. when you reach him, you grab his arm, pulling him around to face you.

“rafe,” you say, your voice trembling, and he looks at you, startled.

his pupils are blown wide, the usual spark in his blue eyes dimmed, replaced by something darker, something you’ve seen before but prayed you’d never have to see again.

he opens his mouth to say something, but the words don’t come. instead, he stumbles over his thoughts, his hand going to his nose instinctively, wiping at it.

“what are you doing here?” he slurs, blinking at you in confusion. “i thought you were—”

“you promised me,” you cut him off, your voice sharp, louder than you intended. “you said you wouldn’t do this again, rafe.”

he flinches at the accusation, his face falling as he stares at you. “i wasn’t—i didn’t mean to. it was just…just a little. i’m fine.”

you feel the tears burning at the corners of your eyes, anger and hurt bubbling up inside you. “you lied to me.”

he tries to reach for you, but you step back, your body trembling with rage. “don’t. don’t touch me.”

rafe’s face crumples, and for a second, you almost feel sorry for him. almost. but then you remember why you’re here. you remember the promise he made, the way he swore up and down that he would change, for you, for your future.

and now, that future feels like it’s slipping through your fingers.

“i’m sorry,” he says, his voice cracking, but you don’t want to hear it. you don’t want to hear his apologies, not when he’s high, not when he’s like this.

“sorry’s not enough, rafe,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “it’s not enough this time.”

he looks at you, desperation in his eyes, and you can see the fear creeping in—the fear of losing you, of losing everything. but it’s too late for that now. the damage is done.

“i’m done,” you say, the words feeling foreign in your mouth, like they don’t belong there. “i can’t keep doing this.”

rafe’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head, panic flashing across his face. “no, no, please. don’t say that. you don’t mean that.”

“i do.” your voice is barely above a whisper, but the weight of the words hangs in the air between you. “i can’t keep lying to myself, pretending this is okay.”

“please,” he begs, stepping closer, his hands shaking. “please, baby, don’t do this. i’ll stop. i’ll get better. i’ll be better. just don’t leave me.”

you swallow, tears blurring your vision as you look at him, this broken boy in front of you, so lost in his own demons that he can’t see how much he’s hurting you. “i don’t know if i can believe you anymore.”

rafe’s face crumples, and for the first time, you see the tears welling up in his eyes, the cracks in his armor finally breaking open. but it doesn’t change anything. it doesn’t fix what he’s done.

“please,” he whispers again, his voice trembling. “i love you.”

your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you almost believe him. but then you remember the ache in your chest, the fear that’s been gnawing at you since the moment you found out you were pregnant. you remember all the nights you spent worrying, wondering if this was the right decision, if you could trust him to be the father your child needed.

and now, standing here, looking at him, you have your answer.

you can’t.

the drive home is a blur, tears streaming down your face as you try to keep it together. you don’t even remember how you made it back, your mind consumed with the weight of what just happened. the house feels empty when you walk inside, the silence suffocating as you collapse onto the couch, sobs wracking your body.

you’re pregnant. you’re carrying his child, and he doesn’t even know.

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