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writerpeach · 2 days ago

Text

Turnabout

IVE An Yujin x m!reader

16k words

Part 8 of IVED Vanilla Latte

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Read on AO3

"Such a bed hog, Jang Wonyoung," Yujin grumbles as she peels the blankets back, careful not to disturb when she drapes it over you both and snuggles up against your chest. You share the complaint—it's a wonder how such a petite little thing can occupy so much space.

"Always the brat that gets what she wants, I guess," you mutter with a sleepy smile, wrapping an arm around Yujin's back as the realization sets in that you're awake.

"Maybe that's the problem. We spoil her too much—fucking cums three times on daddy's fat cock and still steals all the covers."

Can’t exactly argue with that either. Yujin’s already energetic enough to trace circles into your bare chest, while Wonyoung is still in deep slumber, curled up peacefully right by your side. It’s well into the morning, but winter break means late nights and later mornings, plenty of time to sleep in and do absolutely nothing.

And if that sleep comes with these two tangled up all over you in this spacious bed, cuddled nice and tight under the covers, then there's really not a single thing to complain about.

“Well, good morning, daddy," Yujin says, a bit hoarse, sleepiness still present when she plants a kiss right on your lips.

"Morning, Yudolph," you reply, making Yujin giggle out instantly when her mouth reaches your neck. She nibbles gently, slow but steady, kissing her way across your exposed skin. And god, how she manages to look so fucking beautiful in the morning is beyond your comprehension. Even bare-faced, Yujin looks effortlessly gorgeous.

Wonyoung is the real sleeper amongst the three of you, even after Yujin kisses her so gently on the forehead to try and wake her up, still out like a light. That doesn't seem to matter, because she takes advantage, still showering you in attention—kisses on your neck that become a bit aggressive, a little more nibbling, a little sucking, teeth grazing against your skin until you can feel the ache where her mark is.

"A little needy this morning, are we?"

Yujin doesn't respond at first, too lost in what she's doing to hear your words as her hands wander a bit south, feeling how your boxers strain around your morning hardness.

"It's not like you can control yourself either," Yujin says, a smirk on her face that pairs with her giggles as a hand slides between your legs to feel your length, palm pressed over it. The warm touch alone has you twitching inside your boxers, groaning under your breath at the sensation. Her hot breath escapes, a tease as she kisses back up to your ear. "Let me take care of this for you—not like our princess will be up for a while."

Tempting, for sure, but you can't give in just yet. Instead, you give a little slap to her tight, plump ass that catches her off-guard, gasping louder than expected.

"Not yet. Need some coffee first."

The look that you get in return is every bit offended at being denied, Yujin with this adorable little pout that's so rare to see her sporting, cheeks all puffed out, such cuteness that nearly makes you reconsider. Yet, somehow, you hold strong and toss your side of the sheets right off, standing up to head towards the bathroom to wash up.

Following like a lost puppy, Yujin trails after you, kissing you from behind like she thinks it'll make you change your mind. She's nowhere near subtle enough about her intentions, arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as she pecks her way along your shoulders and upper back.

"But daddy—" Yujin whines, continuing her little display of affection as she attempts to bribe you with another plethora of kisses all over your neck, refusing to let you slip away. The bathroom mirror is large enough to let you observe the cute sight of her holding on, peppering wherever she can with those soft, delectable lips.

But you silence any further protest when turning around to press your lips to hers, a tender kiss that lasts for longer than she deserves.

"Coffee," you repeat, and this time she doesn't question.

From the moment you pour coffee beans to grind to the second it starts brewing, Yujin is right behind you, hardly separating from you for even a breath. Not that you ever would mind the company. Nor how little of her is covered up, this silky pink robe she managed to slip on the way, mostly unbuttoned, breasts spilling out, dark underwear on full display as well as those deadly hips paired with that amazing ass.

"You know, coffee takes a long time," Yujin murmurs, nuzzling her face up against the crook of your neck.

"That's what makes it good, though," you respond, not falling for those cute little antics. But still, she feels impossible to resist, especially when her hand wanders along your abdomen, no longer subtle when she reaches between your legs to cup a nice handful of your bulge through your boxers.

"We have time..." Yujin sighs, her hot breath lingering around your neck when she slides into the fabric of your underwear to get a better grip around you. The pressure is just enough, fingers wrapped tight, slow strokes from base to tip that coax you into full erection. "All the time in the world, don't we, daddy?"

"Spoiled brat," you say, but can hardly let out little else when those lips latch on your neck, and a hand glides up and down your sensitive, throbbing shaft.

"It's not spoiling me if you enjoy it too, right? So why won't you play with me a bit, daddy?" she questions, guiding you further into her spell, slipping out of your boxers so she can turn you around and continue to give her full, undivided attention. There's only so long until the temptation overtakes you, sweetening the pot by unbuttoning her robe, no hesitation to slide it off her shoulders, exposing her devilish body with ease. The soft bounce of those tits is practically hypnotic, and her pretty nipples perk up before your very eyes.

One more deep, heavy kiss has the answer already coming out of your mouth, cupping Yujin's perfect ass into each of your hands and lifting her right off her feet. Because how can anyone ever say no to a sight like this in front of them?

She’s more than happy to cling to you, arms looped behind your shoulders, those heavenly thighs wrapped so tightly around your waist as you carry her the short distance onto the kitchen counter, right next to the coffee machine.

"Fine, you win. Impatient little slut,” you manage out between hot, heavy kisses. Fuck the coffee and fuck her for looking this irresistible so early. You're not sure who the real needy one is here—Yujin for seducing you so easily, or you for falling for it so fast.

There’s never an angel on your shoulder when she’s around—only a devil convincing you to go with whatever the hell she demands.

"Don't act like you can ever resist me," Yujin continues, legs so tight around your waist to prove that point. It's only when you get your fingertips into those panties and tug them down, trying to maneuver them past her thighs, does she have to let go for a split second, before returning herself to you the moment they're out of your way.

"Never could, never will." With her pussy exposed and dripping wet for you, it's only natural to slide a finger or two, the warmth and ease you can glide into her tells plenty, how she’s ready for the real thing. It's her who frees your aching cock next as she moves the fabric of your underwear down enough to nudge your shaft at her entrance, slowly pumping up and down.

“So fucking spoiled…”

“Me, or you?” she laughs, scooting herself to the very edge so she can align you with her wet slit. The rest is up to you—and you don’t dare disappoint, the swollen head of your cock parting her folds, that velvety wet heat welcoming you right in one fluid stroke of your hips.

“Fuck—“

That feeling—god, the instant relief you get with that first thrust, your cock fitting so well inside Yujin as she stretches around you, there’s nothing like it. No matter how many times you've been inside her, the wet tightness of her cunt gives instant gratification, even when she’s desperately trying to get you to move by locking her legs so tight, heels pressing into your back.

"Tight little slut, always so needy for me," you growl, only to be met with that devious smile from Yujin, not arguing any of it.

She's so wet, so warm, slick arousal covering your shaft whenever you enter her with ease, defiling the kitchen counter like you have so many times before. And those eyes, the way they meet yours whenever you drive your hips, that fucking look of pure lust just makes you go all in, wanting more of that desperation that she can't hide, like she can't handle how good it feels.

“Can you really blame me? When you stretch me out like this? Oh, daddy's so—so, oh fuck," Yujin struggles to say, bare ass on the cold countertop as you work your shaft so deep in, keeping yourself buried. It's not that hard to shut her up like this, feel how she tightens from the sudden impact of your bodies crashing, how she sighs heavily and throws her head back when you impale that greedy little hole again.

"So, what? Come on, tell me, baby—" you taunt, slamming in again before slowing to a stop just as she's about to speak, getting a frustrated groan when you refuse to start moving again, not letting her take any control over this.

"P-please, so fuck—so, so fucking deep inside my pussy, daddy, right up into my guts, so—god," Yujin cuts off once again when you pull out and drive into her tight, slippery depths. “Ruin me, make me forget my name, fuck, your cock is so good—“

Her legs tighten around you as the next plunge hits just right, a gasp flying right out when that warm cunt swallows every inch back in, begging for more. You can see every little reaction on her blissed-out features when you pick up the pace, hear the sweet sounds of Yujin's desperate moans ringing throughout the kitchen.

“So fucking tight, god, Yujin, can barely fit this fucking cock in your pussy,” you grunt, watching her try to form a coherent thought while you plow her so deep. She’s moaning so shamelessly, right next to the coffee, spread out so lewdly across the countertop.

"Give it to me, daddy, harder—" Yujin begs, and doesn't need to explain the next sentence, fingers digging into the back of your neck, bringing both of your faces closer and kissing you between her moans. She's relentless in the way she squeezes your cock, so tight and warm with every smack of your body against hers, hot flesh on hot flesh loud and unmistakable in the otherwise silent room. "Fucking use me like the little cumslut I am, fill me up—god, daddy, need your hot load, drain those heavy fucking balls in me."

Every bit of her pussy squeezes tightly around your length when you draw back, leaving just your swollen tip sheathed inside before thrusting right back into her, repeating that same motion that gets all these desperate moans out of her lips.

“That what you want? To dump a load in your tight cunt like I did with Wonyoung when you were gone?"

That only riles her up even more, that jealousy building, legs hugging tighter like she has no plans to let you out of her grasp. But that’s what gets her wetter, lips claiming your own before pulling off and giving full access to the side of her neck, urging you to dive right in. That’s what you do, mouth finding that delicious bare skin, kissing, licking away, grazing teeth into the sensitive area. Not gentle at all when you begin to suck hard until Yujin whimpers, hard enough you're certain to leave behind marks, the kind that'll stay visible for days and annoy Wonyoung.

“Daddy—“

Yujin tries to return the favor when she clings even tighter, nails leaving scratches down your back as you put every bit of strength in your hips, soaking yourself in her juices when your shaft makes such a mess of her glistening cunt.

"Love when you fuck me like this, when you use me like you can't control yourself," Yujin barely manages, limbs so tangled around your entire body that it keeps you pulled in, wanting you even deeper with each thrust. You hear the strain in her voice, almost huskier, heavy and thick with arousal, your hips sparing no energy.

"My pretty little fuckdoll, is that what you are? This perfect cunt always begging to milk my cock?”

“Y-yes, daddy, just a warm, wet hole for you to dump your heavy load in—“ She's so unbelievably tight with each thrust that sinks all the way into that wonderful, wet heat. Buried balls deep, Yujin squeezes the absolute life out of your cock as you plunge right in over and over. This isn't so much fucking her as using her body, just like she craves, selfishly driving into her without letting up for a second, bodies a sweaty mess as you keep your lips on her.

"Getting close, make me cum on that cock, come on," Yujin pleads, unable to take much more as you pummel her pussy, slamming your whole weight into her with each pump. "Make me cum daddy, fuck, that's it, use me just like that—"

You don't need any more convincing to not hold anything back, cupping her face in your hands and sealing those lovely moans with your mouth as you pound her aching cunt. Nothing can stop the sheer ecstasy on her face when you're railing her like this, driving yourself into her body so hard into the counter that everything not nailed down bounces around from the impact.

"Gonna cum on that cock, gonna cum so fucking hard," Yujin says with a shudder, locking herself so around your body that there’s no chance of escape, eyes barely able to stay open, toes curling and back arching off the counter. The coffee's done brewing, long forgotten and ignored, but it can't possibly compare to how hot Yujin feels in comparison, so tight and drenched with your hard cock sliding so perfectly inside. She's getting even tighter, nails clawing into your back once again—even when your own rough thrusts don't show an ounce of mercy, these violent snaps of your hips never falter for an instant.

“Then cum on this cock you greedy little slut—“

Yujin clamps tight, and the sight alone sends you spiraling—the way her tits are bouncing, a thin layer of sweat covering every bit of her body, cheeks flushed and hair becoming a hot mess, your unrelenting onslaught never losing an ounce of momentum. Then she's cumming so hard, squirming in your arms, mouth hanging open with a final desperate sound when it hits and her face contorts in pleasure, soaked cunt contracting over and over as you pry out a heavy, overwhelming climax.

"D-daddy! Fuck!"

You could watch her gorgeous face like this forever, how her body reacts, every sound she makes, every detail etched into your memory when her juices gush out and soak around your balls, that orgasm hitting so hard, eyes rolling back. She's shaking violently by the end of it, borderline painfully tight around your cock with her face buried in the crook of your neck as she struggles to regain her breath, clutching to you like a lifeline.

“Love making you cum like that, Yujinnie, love when you make a mess all over me,” you say when Yujin rides it all out to completion, gasping and sighing in between trying to catch her breath. She's nothing but spent when the aftershocks lose steam, nothing but an exhausted mess all tangled up in your arms.

Absolutely gorgeous that look on her face is, overwhelmed and cheeks still reddened, so lost in bliss, so relaxed when you gently caress her messy hair out of her eyes.

"Your turn, daddy," Yujin mutters, so out of breath when she crashes lips against yours with a deep, heavy kiss that’s all saliva and tongue. You're already on edge as is, the pressure between your legs ready to burst at any moment as your body goes into full overdrive. "Isn't that what you need right now? Isn't that what you needed the whole time when I woke you up? A nice, thick load in my tight little cunt? Please, wanna feel it drip all out of me…"

And that's what gets your hips moving like no tomorrow—this last little burst of energy when Yujin urges you on, whispers those lewd words of encouragement. It's when she kisses up the side of your cheek, nips your ear, runs a hand over your chest and plays with a nipple that your willpower cracks, slowly pulling out of her to drive right back in that much faster, pounding her tight little cunt without remorse.

"You're so fucking close aren't you, daddy? Need you to unload, need you to fucking breed me. Can feel you fucking throbbing—"

Yujin’s voice right in your ear, it's everything you need: her desperate cries for your cum, her frantic moans, begging and pleading for it, that's what tips you right over the edge. There's no stopping this. No stopping the way you can't help but fuck her balls fucking deep over and over again, feeling just how tight Yujin clenches around your cock, that constant whine of 'daddy' becoming your undoing.

That flimsy string of self-restraint snaps, one final deep plunge as her walls suffocate your cock, and you grab two handfuls of her plump ass to hold her in place as you unload, a torrent of cum flooding deep inside, thick, white hot seed erupting into Yujin, spreading this satisfying warmth into her welcoming cunt.

Her face, Yujin's pretty fucking face, it's all you can look at when you explode, draining your heavy balls inside her pussy, everything emptied right out. She holds you through it, keeping herself locked in place as your dick pulses and spurts without pause, all that built up pressure emptied into her, not a chance for any to spill out.

"That's it, daddy," Yujin pleads, planting sweet kisses all down the side of your jaw, tracing her tongue across your ear, shuddering when the rest of your load empties inside her. "Fucking breed me, god—all of it, fuck it all deep in me, please—"

The last couple spurts have you twitching violently, right up to the very end, both of your bodies dripping in sweat. Even with Yujin clinging to you so tight, those long legs locked around your waist while her cunt wrings every last drop, you stay buried inside, savoring just how hot and wet she feels.

"Fuck, god, baby—came so fucking much in you," you manage to utter. letting yourself collapse onto Yujin's sweaty, sticky body. The whole time she strokes your hair, all while being filled to the brim with your thick seed, locked together on this little kitchen counter with no interest in moving

“Daddy always does. Always gives me everything I want. Feels so good inside me, made this pussy so fucking full," Yujin says, resting her head on you, planting one more kiss on your shoulder before getting a good squeeze on your ass.

"That's what you like, right? To get your little pussy all full and messy with cum? See it spilling out, knowing that I filled you, that you made me cum that hard—“ Yujin gives this small nod, and your sensitive cock refuses to leave that sticky warmth you've sunk deep into. Not that she would ever let you, even while her cunt threatens to overflow all over the kitchen counter.

You just can't get enough of the taste of Yujin when you latch your lips upon her sweaty neck again, leaving behind a trail of tired kisses, licking whatever runs down her hot skin, craving more. And while you both bask in the afterglow, panting heavily, hardly able to catch a moment of recovery, there's the coffee, beckoning, a waft of hot steam that goes ignored this entire time.

There's a certain look on Yujin's face once you take a break from lapping up her salty sweat and manage to pull away—a satisfied smile when she untangles her limbs, inviting herself off the counter as your length slowly slips out. Immediately, your cum trickles right out the moment she stands, thighs parting, a messy white trail dripping all the way down, practically a work of art.

"Look at that, love seeing how much you filled me," Yujin says and smirks, hand shooting right between her legs and sliding a finger right inside, cum leaking out even faster.

"So do I, Yujinnie, love seeing how much cum your pretty little cunt takes. Never looks as good as when it's leaking out."

Yujin gets those lips on you once again, sharing a long, lingering kiss that leaves your head spinning, hand gripping your sensitive cock as if there’s anything left to drain. "And look at that—coffee's all ready."

As if you still care about that right now, when Yujin is right there, standing so proud with cum leaking down her thighs, a sweaty, gorgeous mess. "Forget the coffee. Rather have you instead. Every morning."

"Oh, am I better than the coffee, daddy?" Yujin teases, nudging her naked frame so close.

"Always are."

Falling into one more embrace, the smell of hot coffee right next to you, you can tell you're not in the room alone anymore—

It's Wonyoung's perfume that hits your senses first, her presence known immediately when her heels clack across the floor. As usual, so unfazed by anything as she grabs a travel mug, pouring herself some coffee into it, cream and sugar following after.

"Oh, good morning. Plenty of coffee left, I see," Wonyoung says, voice so pleasant, warm and bubbly, ignoring everything that she sees happening right before her eyes. There’s silence; neither you nor Yujin say anything in reply, only watching her strut around the kitchen as she grabs a bagel, a fork, and some cream cheese from the fridge.

And just like that she's out of the kitchen, heading straight back down the hall, not a thing in the world able to take away her cheerfulness right now. "Gonna head out shopping for a few hours—be back later!"

It's rather unusual for Wonyoung not to have anything else to say, not even a single complaint about Yujin's monopolizing of you. Though it's probably best not to question it, especially if it means you get this place all to yourself with no distractions. Nothing to hold you back from indulging on Yujin's absolutely sinful body a little more.

"So—" you start off, almost breaking into a laugh at the very ridiculousness of it all.

"Shower," Yujin suddenly answers before the question is even fully asked, grabbing your hand and pulling you away from the counter, the mess on the tile floor long forgotten for now. "You're going to fuck me in the shower. And then after that—“

You never get the chance to hear the rest, Yujin not one for finishing her thoughts, looking so good when she walks off like this, all naked, hips swaying, ass jiggling with each step and legs going on for miles, demanding your attention as she leads the way to the bathroom.

Yeah, maybe a shower sounds great.

✦ ✦

Once hot water hits your back, you've got Yujin pinned up against the tiles of the shower wall, muscles moving almost on instinct. Your body knows the routine, always going back for more even after draining a thick, heavy load inside this girl.

Then the shower is all hers, that sexy back to you as you shove two fingers inside, curled in just the right way that hits every spot, making her cum on your digits again and again and again. No remorse, not even when Yujin begs for mercy, barely able to keep herself standing. She's not used to being on this side of overstimulation—it's always the other way around, but the cries that escape sound so perfect, legs shaking violently when she's all spent and worn out, a sticky mess.

Two more orgasms later, you're shampooing her long hair and rubbing some of her fancy body wash all over those long legs that you already miss wrapped around you.

It's this nice, calm moment when you've gotten her so clean and relaxed, nothing out of her mouth but a reward of sweet little kisses, giggling and laughing while she's busy washing out the shampoo. Like you've somehow tamed the brat out of her—for now.

By the time you're finished with her, all toweled off and fresh, there are no complaints when Yujin crawls in bed next to you, wrapping herself up right in your arms again.

"Nice to have daddy to myself every now and then. Love when you take care of me and spoil me," she says, shifting close. You know the drill, wrapping an arm around her bare back, tracing fingers down her spine before they glide through her tangled locks as her lips stay pulled into that ever-permanent smile.

"Sometimes it's nice when I don't need to share..." you say, trailing off with a sudden kiss on her lips, the kind that earns a giggle once Yujin is finally done nuzzling up to your neck, taking in your scent that still lingers.

"Think I should spoil daddy some more today. Made me cum so many times in the shower, even when I thought I couldn't take anymore."

"Learned from the best, didn't I?"

Yujin gives the cutest grin at that. "What does daddy want, then? Want me to suck you off? Stroke your cock, milk another huge load? "

"Yeah, all of that sounds good," you answer, pushing yourself up and settling back against the pillows. Yujin's between your legs not even a second after that, flat on her stomach, legs behind her and feet dangling in the air. She's dressed only in this purple little thong, almost naked and perfect as her long hair falls in such a way over her bare, smooth back, eyeing your cock with this giddy grin that can't possibly be wiped away.

"Whatever daddy wants, daddy gets…” Yujin says, and she always makes good on her promises to spoil you. She gets right to work as she caresses your thighs with those magical hands, running them up and down, getting all the blood flowing again.

Funny enough how she says that, like this isn't also for her, isn't something she needs as much as you. The look of excitement on Yujin’s face, when she grabs onto your shaft, gets you hard just from that alone. All it takes is that simple graze, fingers dancing along every bit of you before you've stiffened up again for her.

"Daddy's big, thick cock—filling my mouth," Yujin mumbles out, drool already forming at the corners of her mouth when she rubs your cock head against her soft lips, kissing it like she can't help herself anymore. You lean back, head in the pile of pillows while she gets comfortable, her ass pointing right into the air, barely covered by this pathetic piece of fabric. She's in utter bliss before even starting, the soles of her feet rubbing against each other, like she's more excited about sucking you off than you are.

Not a moment wasted. A little tease with her tongue as it glides along your length, slicking it all up, before stopping right at the sensitive underside where she's learned your weakness. There's no hiding the way you moan and twitch, your breath hitching every time her tongue laps over the same area, cupping your balls while she flicks repeatedly.

"So sensitive, even after you came in me," Yujin says, her tongue exploring all the way down to your balls, rolling them around before pressing her lips to kiss them. She's too good at knowing just where to pay extra attention to, where to lick and tease and have you melting into the sheets as her tongue flicks back against the very tip.

There's not a thing you can do about the moan that leaves you while Yujin strokes your whole length, spitting onto your tip again and again, spreading her wet saliva all around. And then she parts those lips, envelops the head of your cock right into the warmth of her mouth, swallowing you whole with no warning.

"Shit, Yujin—god, fuck," you grunt out when her cheeks hollow, lips sealed so tight and bobbing her head up and down so sinfully from the very beginning. Those lips suck and slurp as they slide down the entirety of your shaft, holding for a moment before pushing right back up, tongue lavishing the whole way. She stares so intensely the whole time, this magical eye contact as she takes in every inch, taking you far into the depths of her throat like it's not even the slightest challenge.

"Daddy tastes so good, especially when it's all the way down my throat," Yujin says, pulling away just so she can pepper kisses down your shaft, her hot breath hitting every bit of your saliva-soaked dick.

Her lips press into the side, following it all the way down your length with one big, wet kiss when she teases until the very bottom. No wasted movements, she takes you back inside her mouth right after, a loud, heavy slurp while she plays with your balls, driving every ounce of pleasure possible out of you when her lips travel back down.

"You're gonna be the fucking end of me, I swear—" you moan out as Yujin continues to get deep and swallow every inch, her nails grazing across your thighs, using them for leverage while her head bobs with no sign of letting up. She's absolutely shameless with how messy she gets, that lewd sound of your cock going into her throat so prominent, spit covering the entire length as her pace speeds up.

It's too good when she picks things up—Yujin knows exactly where you're weak, just how to push your limits without taking things too far when every movement and slide of her lips has you groaning so desperately.

Then her hands pin your thighs right against the mattress, keeping you from thrusting when the speed quickens even more. Yujin gurgles on your length, humming happily with such pride, devouring your whole cock right to the back of her throat. She goes harder than ever with a rough push all the way down and holding herself there for a moment before working back up, messy spit and loud gags leaving her mouth as she pulls back, a satisfied expression all over her.

"Love choking on daddy's big cock," Yujin says, an eager grin before diving straight back down.

The feeling is mutual, because fuck—all of that feels so good, lips slurping up and down while your heavy cock fills her throat completely. She's fucking relentless, these exaggerated gags in between breaths when she takes in your full length over and over again, switching it up by sucking so gently on your swollen cockhead, using only her lips to push it even further down.

And then it’s an endless loop, that warm, wet tongue that travels all the way down to the base, tracing every vein to get these helpless moans out of you. There's no mercy given, no respite when you're throbbing like crazy, trying your absolute best to not shove her pretty face straight into your crotch. The only alternative is to grab fistfuls of the sheets instead, shutting your eyes for a fleeting moment.

"Nuh-uh," Yujin suddenly says over your sloppy cock, pulling you out of her mouth with a loud, lewd pop, spit glistening the whole length of your shaft as she strokes, a small string falling right off her chin. "Eyes open, daddy."

She's not a woman you want to deny, especially when she's looking so hungry between your legs, lips on your heavy balls and sucking with so much desire. You don't know whether you'll survive this—there's a certain determination on Yujin's face, her tongue lapping at your sack while a hand continues jerking you off, not neglecting any part.

"Fuck, Yujin—fucking love your mouth," you groan, the sight in front of you becoming too much to handle.

And even when she's far too skilled to bring you over the edge with these intense, wet slurps that coat your cock in abundant spit, she can’t help but stare the whole time. Like nothing could satisfy her more than watching you, moaning with need when she sucks harder on each of your balls, making sure to give them both equal attention.

"Then daddy won’t mind me swallowing that delicious cum? Gonna drain these big, heavy balls right down my throat," Yujin says, but that's not going to happen just yet—

Not when her tongue gets to work, ensuring your balls get doused in warm saliva, wrapping her lips around each one for good measure. This slow, torturous moment that she draws out when she licks over every sensitive spot, working you up so perfectly that you're about ready to explode, to coat that face with hot, sticky cum.

She won’t allow any deviation, not when she has your pleasure all mapped up, a perfect plan on how to turn you into a fucking mess with every swipe that slides over your balls one more time. Right on schedule, she dips even lower, and all your senses come alive when her tongue presses into your ass, swirling around slowly, teasing that sensitive area, testing until her tongue pushes all the way inside.

"Yujin—jesus, fuck, oh my god," you groan out almost involuntarily. One hand stays so firm around the head of your cock while she goes deep. Her tongue thrusts in and out of you, each slow movement feeling as wonderful as it was the first time she did this, like she knows exactly where to go when you're so close. Yujin giggles happily to herself, burying her face in deep, tongue exploring your asshole with expert precision as you barely keep yourself together.

"Nothing daddy likes more than when I eat his ass, right?" And nothing could wipe that smug grin off her face, and damn, she's so right about that when her tongue goes crazy, swirling at your hole, using the tip to plunge in and out, finding all the sensitive nerves.

It's every bit overwhelming as much as it's satisfying, Yujin getting you even closer to that edge, not even stroking your cock anymore when she's too busy lapping her tongue right inside your ass.

"So good, Yujin, so fucking good," you manage out in the midst of pleasure, squirming when the wetness of her tongue fills you. She gets you so close to where you need, but never pushes you over the edge, her own desire to drive you crazy so evident in how sloppy she gets. Those pretty manicured nails dig into your abdomen to keep you from moving, your cock throbbing, leaking all over. "Getting so close, fuck—"

And it's such a struggle not to blow right then, this pressure only building more and more. "Yeah? Daddy loves my tongue in his asshole that much? Might make you cum?"

Yujin doesn’t wait for a response as she plunges so deep, her mouth going straight into overdrive. Her tongue only hits that sensitive area a few more times, before running back all the way to your balls, licking on each one repeatedly while she stares. That is, until her lips are right on your cock again, slowly sliding all the way down to the base, forcing every inch past those pretty lips without a problem.

"Fuck, keep going," you groan, gripping the sheets, desperately needing relief. There's an ache so deep inside that you can't escape, and there's only one person with the power to set it free. "You're gonna make me cum. It's all gonna shoot down your fucking throat, Yujin, right down—"

It's that kind of encouragement she craves, getting a handful of your full balls to fondle and play with while her mouth gives the killing blow. There's no remorse in the way Yujin brings you right up to the peak of pleasure, her mouth so warm, so wet around your entire shaft as she plunges deep down, nose pressed firmly into your crotch.

Then it's all up to you to do the rest when you grab the back of her head and keep her in place.

She watches the whole time as your face contorts and your muscles tense, unable to keep a loud, heavy groan from slipping past your lips when you finally do explode. Shooting right out, that huge thick load spills out as you pump shot after shot right down her throat while she milks it from your balls.

It's exactly what she wants when you get such a tight grip on her head, keeping her held down your throbbing cock while you flood such a massive load straight down into her hungry throat.

“Oh my god, fuck, Yujin—“

Her lips stay wrapped tight, flushed down to your base as her throat works to get every last drop, always so greedy, eyes watching every moment while she empties your balls, fingers still fondling them the whole time. You just keep those groans going, spilling inside the delicious warmth of Yujin’s tight throat and giving her everything as she gulps down shot after shot of your sticky load. She just keeps this delicate squeeze on your balls ever, drawing more out of them to swallow down.

You hold her tight, fingers digging into her scalp, long past the point when your orgasm ends and your cock is completely spent. All this time, Yujin looks so pleased, letting you take as much time as you need to pump that load deep into her stomach, throbbing on repeat. Even after you relax your grip, she's slow to pull her mouth off, sucking with such intensity once you finally empty yourself, having nothing left to shoot, drained so expertly.

There's such a thick, creamy mess in her mouth when her lips part to reveal after taking everything from your cock. It doesn't take long before Yujin lets it all pool, playing with it in a little show before gathering it all up in one big mouthful, tilting her head back and swallowing every single bit.

"Made daddy cum so hard, didn't I?" she purrs, almost in triumph, leaving a trail of wet kisses all over your chest while you just ride through the high. "So fucking good, especially when you pump all of it right down my throat and I don't have to share any of it."

"You're too fucking good, Yujin—"

"Insatiable you could say. If your balls had anything left, I'd be sucking you dry again. Daddy won't go a day without being drained and my mouth or pussy full of thick cum."

She falls straight on top of you, nothing in the way when her leg slides right around you, hugging your waist and pulling you close until her warmth surrounds you again. And of course you welcome it, one hand resting right on the small of her back, the other running all through her hair, relishing in the calm.

"You really are spoiled," you say, brushing some loose strands away as Yujin simply snuggles closer.

"Daddy's spoiled little brat. You wouldn't have it any other way."

----

You don't wake up until later. Head a little clearer, the sleep more than welcome, body rested and well refreshed. Wonyoung still isn't home when you check her room. Neither is Yujin, or at least in your bed, but you find her right in the kitchen once you wander back downstairs.

She doesn't take long to spot you, a wide grin across her face. Her hair is tied up in a messy ponytail, sporting a black tank top and matching gym shorts that show off those toned legs and a lot more as she grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. There's this nice glow to her skin, a little more radiant from what looks like a quick jog outside.

"About time. Missed you, daddy. Princess isn't back yet and you were still out, so I decided to go for a little run."

“Not my fault you wore me out."

"Is that all on me now? All I did was suck your cock just like you asked, like the good girl I am," Yujin argues with the most ridiculous pout you've ever seen.

"Good? Not sure I'd ever use that word to describe you."

"I'm good when I feel like it. And good at riding you until you blow a nice fat load deep inside my tight pussy—"

"Yeah, you're definitely anything but a good girl."

Yujin doesn't bother hiding the look on her face when you stare, stretching those arms above her head and flexing right in front of you, every inch on perfect display and that toned midriff peeking out when her top rises. "What would you even do if I was obedient? If you couldn't punish me whenever you liked, smacking my ass raw, or fucking my throat to keep me quiet?"

"I'd go find a different roommate, obviously."

A dramatic gasp follows, the kind that makes you both laugh when you step closer to kiss her. "Hey, wait, I'm all sweaty here. Let me go hop into the shower first, I won't take too long."

Not a chance you're waiting for her to do that—especially when you're the one who can easily offer an alternative. "No need when I can, I can clean you up right here."

"Perv," Yujin giggles, already considering your offer. "Daddy likes me all hot and sweaty?"

No hesitation on her end when she meets your gaze. "We can save water then—so show me what you have in mind instead," Yujin beckons, reaching her hands out and pulling you in by the collar for a lustful kiss.

"Come on—" You take the lead, grabbing Yujin by the wrist and guiding her along. She knows exactly where you're heading as soon as you turn the corner into the guest bathroom. It's more than enough space to work in once you clear off the sink, sweeping the makeup and skincare all to one side before hoisting Yujin up on the marble counter with no effort at all.

She doesn't wait for any other prompt, pulling off her tank top with your eager hands all over her sweaty body, reveling in her warmth while leaning right in for more of those sloppy, needy kisses, the kind that become her favorite the more riled up she gets. You're too busy ogling her body to be any use though, drinking in the sight of her perky, perfect tits in front of you when your lips separate.

"Keep staring," Yujin insists, as a strong, slender finger tilts your chin up, a far too smug look across her pretty face.

And you have no problem doing so while she undoes her ponytail, changing the messy, disheveled look into two loose pigtails instead as a mischievous smile pulls at her lips. "Isn't this a better look for me, daddy? Gives you plenty to tug on whenever you fuck my tight little pussy."

"It suits a brat like you—but I already wrecked your cunt. So your ass is mine instead."

Excitement fills her expression right away when Yujin leans back against the mirror, bare tits rising and falling when she notes the raging hard-on that's practically begging for attention through your sweatpants. "Even better. Now go on—clean me up, daddy."

There's not a moment's delay, giving her body another heated stare as you reach straight down and pull her shorts along her toned legs. They slip off effortlessly, finding Yujin hasn't bothered with panties underneath either.

Yujin tugs at the hem of your shirt as well, lifting it over your head to get you more comfortable. Then you're running your tongue over her tits, gathering up the beads of sweat as her whole body goes tense under your touch. She's quick to moan as you grope her body, from her abdomen down to her thighs, feeling all the curves and soft, tender skin as her breathing slowly gets heavier.

"And daddy said I was the needy one."

"You are—you want my cock more than anything, every damn day."

"Don't pretend you're complaining, daddy, you like using me way too much to ever get rid of me."

And that's the last thing she says while you draw circles around her nipple, licking up more sweat along the way, this delicious body all yours. Just getting your mouth over her neck makes Yujin shudder, taking your time with each spot you land on—but she has other plans for you, lifting her arms over her head and stretching out for you to indulge.

"I'm so sweaty everywhere... daddy better not miss a single spot."

You wouldn't dream of it. Running kisses up and down her soft skin, you get all your lips over every sensitive area, until you reach where the sweat is most prominent—

Right at her armpit, you kiss her there the second you reach it, Yujin giggling softly when your tongue begins to lash, diving right in. The taste is divine as always, leaving you more than satisfied to lick every single drop up, that natural, delicate aroma just a wonderful bonus that lingers. She's so relaxed while you are anything but. devouring that area, tongue swiping up all that salty sweat like it's your sustenance.

"Mm, daddy loves how I taste, doesn't he? Keep going, love when you pay attention to every part of me—“ That's your plan, to lavish every inch of her gorgeous body. But your focus is kept right here, tongue dragging along every spot of her sweat-doused armpits, swapping between each while she keeps those slender arms raised high for your mouth to get easy access.

Her giggles become soft sighs with your tongue so sloppy, wet licks turning into hungry slurps, savoring that heavenly taste, with your mouth so busy licking and sucking until there's more saliva than sweat before. Yujin encourages it all, knowing all too well how equally insatiable you can get when you're licking her, taking your time to slobber every area, every sensitive spot that gets such a strong reaction out of her.

You really can’t get enough, burying your face to keep the scent of Yujin lingering, the taste of her on your tongue. When your lips somehow detach, and you reach a point of satisfaction, you kiss down her chest in search of more sweat to lick up.

She's all smiles, fingers playing with the strands of your hair while your tongue explores her chest, a layer of sweat right in between her cleavage that's calling your name, your tongue wasting no time in gathering it up.

"More, daddy. Your mouth, fuck, get my body nice and clean—"

You continue your exploration, getting your mouth all over her stiff nipples and watching her tense up when you give them all the attention they deserve—tracing the swell of each breast before the licking intensifies. It earns the same response from Yujin every single time, desperate little whines when your teeth graze along the nub, flicking it back and forth with each hungry suck, switching between them after.

"Fuck," Yujin curses under her breath, and she steals a wrist to bring your fingers to her mouth as your tongue gets busier. Almost like she's mirroring your motions, her own tongue extends, taking two digits inside to wrap around, lips going a bit wild as she begins to suck. And suck does she ever, almost matching the pace of your mouth, saliva covering your fingers in an instant. But that won't distract you, with your mouth hungrily licking down every bit of her breasts, detouring towards her abdomen.

"You taste so good, Yujin—god, your entire body tastes so fucking good—" you mutter in between, tracing your tongue slowly down her midriff, kissing along her abs, in between, over every little part until your mouth is right back where it all started.

"Then I guess I should get all sweaty more often," Yujin suggests, a smirk spreading on her lips that matches how her legs open right up.

But you're not quite ready to head between her thighs like usual, not having your fill of the rest of Yujin's body as you enjoy the view of her cunt, starved for attention.

No need to rush either. Your kisses resume down her thighs, each spot receiving just the right amount of your mouth, until you give all that attention to her pretty feet, lifting one of her ankles and laying a gentle kiss onto each.

"You keep this up and daddy might have to start calling me princess."

That makes you pause, eyes averting from her irresistible body to meet Yujin's mischievous, inviting eyes.

"Absolutely not," is the obvious response you can muster, but it only seems to entertain her more. "One spoiled brat in the house is bad enough."

"Aww, you love when I'm a brat, daddy," Yujin says, feigning disappointment. Her eyes give that little twinkle before her other foot reaches for your chest, teasingly stroking her toes over a nipple. "Fine, no princess. I'll be whatever you need me to be as long as you keep kissing every part of me just like this. Come on, get back to work, daddy."

Almost on auto-pilot you do, and the bliss gets etched on Yujin’s face right away as you admire this underappreciated part of her body. And this part is perfect like the rest of her, silky soft soles with these delicate high arches and pretty painted nails, black polish sparkling under the bright bathroom light. Everywhere you want to kiss, you do, each individual toe meeting your lips before you suck gently, one at a time, letting your wet saliva cover each before moving on.

"Feels so nice, daddy, just keep sucking my toes,” Yujin says, a heavy sigh escaping the entire time when you do exactly that.

She loves getting spoiled like this, and you love indulging her in it, the pleasure overtaking her features while you suck away on her pretty pedicured toes, slipping your tongue in the spaces between, not missing a chance to taste anything.

And you’re just getting started, only slipping her toes from between your lips to focus on her creamy soles, where they feel the softest. An absolute delight on their own, you're not leaving anything without proper attention, dragging your tongue across her arches, the ball of her foot, down to her heel and back up to repeat it all.

"Daddy's going crazy," Yujin groans when your saliva continues to spill from your mouth, dripping all across her feet like the delicacy they are. "Love seeing you like this—my toes in your mouth, salivating all over them…"

All the response you can offer is to take her big toe and slide it back between your lips, sucking with even more vigor, like you can’t ever get enough. Clearly, she’s enjoying all this worship, these content sighs when you turn this into a feast, both soles yours to inhale when they press deep against your face. You can hardly pick where to focus, soles side by side awaiting your tongue, those long, delicious toes needing your lips shortly after.

“Always so hungry for me—you could suck on my toes all day, couldn't you?" she asks, but you refuse to answer, devouring both soles at the same time with the rest of her toes within easy reach for take back in. To make matters worse, Yujin simply pushes one foot away to tease your cock through your sweatpants, until all that attention makes you swell through the fabric.

"Impatient little brat.”

"You say that like you're not dying to shove that thick cock straight up my asshole."

With a final, wet slurp, those pretty toes come sliding out from your hungry mouth, more kisses being pressed onto her soles before you eventually let up. Yujin doesn't hesitate as those slender fingers slip into your waistband right after, pulling your sweatpants off right alongside your underwear in one smooth motion to show just how desperate she is.

Nothing left between your aching shaft, a few needy strokes are all that’s necessary to bring you to full hardness, lips parted and eyes widened, even after countless times like this. "See? It's what you really want. Daddy can't get enough of this perfect cock inside my ass."

"Guess you got me there,” you say, almost in annoyance.

You don't bother waiting for another bratty reply, because Yujin knows right where you want her as she hops off the counter, pigtails bouncing freely when she faces away in front of this enormous bathroom mirror. She gets all in position, bending over nice and slow, angling her delicious bare ass as you try to find something useful—nearly knocking every bottle over when you spot the closest thing resembling lube.

A bottle of fancy massage oil is your best option for now, although you're left wondering why something like this is mixed in with the assortment of cosmetics. A question for later, when your mind is focused on this girl's plump cheeks that press up against you.

That's your cue to start pouring oil down to cover her round ass, the excess spilling onto her thighs while you rub it all in. Another generous squirt right above her lower back before your hands sink into those shapely cheeks, massaging the oil deeper in and getting everything nice and slick.

Yujin's more than relaxed while you turn this prep into an unplanned massage session, rubbing the oil all around the small of her back, down enough to coat her thighs, and then you're back up to knead her supple ass some more. She's glistening, that perfect ass so slippery wet when she grinds your throbbing cock sandwiched between her oily cheeks, an impatience tease in full effect.

"Your cock feels so fucking hard. Can't wait to have it stretching me open, god, daddy’s gonna feel so good stuffed inside my tight asshole."

You have to agree, but that doesn't mean you aren't going to enjoy your cock sliding between these glistening cheeks a little longer, because you can tease her just as much—

Especially with the way you grip her ass nice and firm, fingers digging into that inviting flesh. Your cock is already leaking, throbbing uncontrollably while you indulge, sliding up and down the curve of her ass when you inch a bit closer to that tight little hole with every movement.

Impatience from Yujin shows in the mirror, practically ready to beg the more your shaft slides between these cheeks. But you have to take your time and savor the view of this girl so close, bent over the counter with those insanely long legs spread, ass all oiled up and primed to be taken.

But Yujin, she grows tired of the tease, pulling those cheeks apart so you can see where you’re destined to go. Reaching back, she guides your slippery shaft where you need to be, where she needs it to be. "In me—put it in my ass right fucking now. Pound my asshole the way you always do, please, daddy, I need it—"

Not like you're going to tell her no. She's looking over her shoulder when your cock finally nudges inside that tightest opening, grabbing a hip before you slowly start to sink inside.

Fuck, she's tight, so incredibly tight, and it only gets better the more you watch that ass swallow your entire cock, not stopping until she's taken everything you can give. It's when your hips meet those oil-slicked cheeks that you really savor the moment, Yujin's gripping asshole hugging so tightly around your base, the heavenly warmth surrounding every inch.

"Love that dick in my ass, daddy. Right where you belong. Give me it, give me it all," she purrs, arching her back when you start pulling out, inch by slow inch, relishing the grip on your cock. The initial withdrawal is always the hardest, difficult to slip out the entire way—and then you’re right back in with one rough thrust, Yujin moaning so loud from taking it so deep with your hands tight on her wide hips.

You're happy to oblige her every whim, and you do so with this impossible grip on your cock that makes you throb like crazy when sliding back inside Yujin. Holding nothing back, all you can do is groan as she takes you all the way in, pounding faster within those bouncy cheeks with every powerful thrust. It’s hard to pinpoint your focus—whether on that tight ass swallowing you whole, or that pretty face moaning in the mirror when you keep pounding, that tight ass that jiggles so hypnotically with your hips.

"God, this fucking ass, Yujin. So tight, so fucking tight," you mutter, struggling to contain yourself while you ram your cock without pause, knowing full well how desperately Yujin wants this—needs this.

She keeps herself perfectly bent over while you pound away, using the grip on her hips to pull her right back onto your cock, fully hilted every single time.

"So good, so fucking good—" Yujin never stops moaning out her satisfaction, loud and proud when you bottom out, her entire body jolted from being fucked so deep. Every rough thrust gets her ass pushing right back into your hips, cheeks smacking deliciously loud, meeting your rhythm just perfectly. "Daddy's big cock inside my tight little asshole feels so fucking good, keep going, deeper, god, fuck me, fuck me—"

You're not letting up with how hard you're going—cock slamming in as hard as her tight hole will let you, not settling for anything less than being balls fucking deep. The way her oily cheeks bounce and smack up against your hips is all too intoxicating, even moreso when you hold onto them and guide yourself straight into her warm, welcoming asshole, before delivering her ass a powerful smack just to watch that flesh ripple from the impact.

“Fucking brat, always needing your ass pounded,” you growl, giving her cheeks the attention they so desperately crave.

She's groaning and whimpering so beautifully at how you're fucking her deep, clutching the counter with a white knuckle grip when you give her ass another harsh slap, one that echoes throughout the entire bathroom.

"Fuck, daddy, just like that. Spank my ass, smack it hard, fucking punish me—" It’s not what Yujin deserves, but you’ll give in for your own selfish needs regardless.

Making this ass so fucking red—to show who this delicious ass truly belongs to, that's the ultimate goal. Squeezing tight on each cheek, you smack it even harder, as your palm crashes down without pause to get the sting just right. She just whimpers, begging for more while you drill her asshole, one strike after the other, never hitting the same spot more than once.

"Fucking—"

You feel her ass tightening each time a spank connects, only urging you to hit that tender flesh harder, so loud and obscene the sound that echoes against the walls when you hammer into her at your hardest.

"Brat—"

The words sound different after each harsh, merciless strike, your hand marking every spot, all around her gorgeous ass to watch the redness grow. "Fucking spoiled little—"

There’s nothing but pleasure in her eyes as you catch the reflection, pounding into her ass with everything you've got, each thrust ending with a harsh slap to those wet cheeks—and still, she wants more. She gets so loud, those constant cries begging for you to never let up. You don’t dare even think about doing so, using all the strength you can muster to punish that ass how it deserves, a pretty shade of red that never fades, a hand relentless against her soft, bouncy cheeks,

She's so vocal, always encouraging more, demanding even. You can’t deny the pleasure in taking her like this, absolutely destroying her, cock filled to the hilt and slamming her into the counter. But it’s never enough, no, not for Yujin, the way she’s rubbing at her clit so greedily in between all this, just desperate for anything else you’ll give her.

So while you've got this beautiful view of her tight, flawless ass and perfect curves while you fuck her senseless, you take full advantage of that, getting a tight grip on her pigtails, yanking them back while burying your cock in deep.

It's everything. Pulling Yujin back with every harsh tug, her ass gets so unbelievably tight and warm wrapped around your stiff shaft, whenever you get as deep as you can fit. The harder you tug on those makeshift handles, the harder she loses control. The ragged moans, the broken curses, the desperate whimpers for more only encourage every moment of this.

"Daddy's big cock, so deep inside my asshole. Can't even handle it—you're fucking me so well, fucking my ass so hard I can't even think straight. I need this so fucking bad, daddy, fuck—“

God, the feeling is mutual.

Your thrusts pick up the pace, almost punishing as you keep this up, keep her ass stretched out on your cock. Yujin takes it all like it’s nothing, watching herself get fucked so hard and deep whenever you shove every last inch inside her greedy asshole. Each thrust forces her against the counter, fingernails scraping against the surface, breaths getting more uneven, uncoordinated while you pull her pigtails, not even caring about anything else.

"Don't stop, please don’t stop, daddy. My ass feels so good with your cock pounding it, so fucking full, god, please—fucking wreck my tight little asshole," she whimpers, somehow growing impossibly tighter.

She’s bent over at such a ridiculously obscene angle, and your throbbing cock buries so deep with your fingers tangled up in these cute pigtails, hips refusing to do anything but pound furiously. You can see that blissed-out expression whenever you look up, whenever you give a harsh little tug that sends Yujin reeling, tightening even more around you. There’s no better view than this, watching your shaft impale between these reddened cheeks, tits bouncing in the reflection, such a sinful body dripping with oil.

"You're so tight, Yujin, god, I love this ass, fuck—"

The urge to just absolutely destroy her hits strong, and she welcomes it in the way her snug little asshole clenches harder the longer you keep on ravishing her. You get such a forceful grip on both those pigtails and use them to guide Yujin back, slamming into her as deep as possible, the harsh slap of skin on skin almost deafening.

"Daddy's pounding me so hard, pulling my hair, fucking my asshole like it's a goddamn toy. Use me, use this greedy little anal slut. Fuck me, fuck me like this, fuck me until you need to cum—"

You're so caught up in pummeling Yujin's tight asshole that you hardly notice the wetness that suddenly gushes out between her legs, this intense mess between her legs and the bathroom tile.

That doesn't stop you though from giving your all and driving every inch in, even as her thighs quiver and her whole body shakes. These constant whimpers and cries for more only fuel the power in your hips. “Your tight asshole feels so damn good, squeezing me so fucking much, god—I love opening your ass up so fucking much.”

That’s when you get one more harsh tug on those pigtails before returning your hands to their rightful place on those wide hips, pounding into this little stretched hole like never before.

"Fuck—yes, daddy, oh my god, yes," she stammers through her heavy breaths, body nearly collapsing if not for you holding her hips tightly in place. She's a sticky mess, all this wetness spread across her thighs while you watch her lose it in the mirror, lips parted to voice how good you’re giving it to her.

You aren't letting up. No chance at this point when you're positioned so deep, slamming that tight hole and watching as her lips curl from each moan, the way she grips desperately on anything she can get her hands on, fingers latching onto nothing in the end. Her pigtails bounce with your rhythm, but all you can focus on is keeping your cock nestled so deep, grabbing Yujin tight and fucking her as roughly as she demands.

One more set of relentless slaps to that beautiful backside and you can't hold on any more—reaching the point where you've been fighting yourself, Yujin's ass so fucking good on your cock.

So close when you fuck her without mercy, with everything you have left, impaling her asshole the way she begs, pleads for more, keeping up this momentum until all the way to the finish line. And once your length slides out, you get a glimpse of your masterpiece: that tight, stretched open asshole, left gaping for a moment while you give yourself enough room.

Yujin is already positioning herself perfectly on her knees, head tilted back just right. She opens her mouth so eagerly, tongue out and waiting, licking at your balls to finish you off. "Need you to cum, need that hot fucking load. Make a mess all over me, cover me, paint my pretty fucking face—"

That's enough to get you far past the point of no return, Yujin looking so sinfully gorgeous, ready for her reward.

The last few strokes are when her tongue slides out a bit more, still lashing at your heavy sack while you pump yourself to completion. And her stunning face is more than enough motivation to finish, but the way her body looks, this deadly combination of sweat and massage oil, shimmering in the light in tandem with the seductive little look she throws—

"Yujin, fuck—"

You hardly have enough time to get the words out before you’re unloading all over her face. Hot cum leaves the tip of your cock in thick streaks, landing perfectly on one cheek, the next right into her hungry mouth, painting her tongue a creamy white.

She doesn't flinch or shy away, a pleased smile spreading across her lips while you coat them so thoroughly, two shots hitting her forehead and an extra thick one streaking on her nose. It's massive, a huge load that leaves Yujin absolutely dripping in cum, mouth open for you to cover the rest of her tongue while you jerk yourself furiously to finish, left in a hot, sticky mess once you've given her what she deserves.

"I look so pretty when daddy covers me with his cum, don’t I? Feels so warm, so thick…” Yujin can’t help but smile through her cum-stained features when the weight of your climax clings to her.

It leaves the slightest shudder across your body when her tongue slides back and forth, ensuring everything's licked clean. She seals her lips tight down to your base one last time, fingertips playing with your balls to make sure there’s nothing left to drain. Then she’s kissing your length, showing off how happy she is to be such a fucking mess, those lips coated thick in white cum on your swollen tip. "And so fucking delicious. I think I'm far too spoiled with your load, daddy."

"Pretty sure it's the other way around, with how good your ass felt," you tell her, still twitching every time her lips meet your sensitive cockhead, admiring just how beautiful she looks covered in you.

Yujin just runs her fingertips through the creamy strands that slowly drip, keeping eye contact while she brings them right to her lips, tongue out to have just one more taste.

"Poor Wonyoungie all left out—let me get a few pictures to send, then I'm all yours again," she promises, tapping a few buttons to send the shot she snaps, her screen showing just how much you decorated her pretty face. She tosses it aside, eager to pick right up where she left off, starting the running water for this massive bathtub the two of you can fit perfectly in that's going to feel so good.

✦ ✦

Fresh sheets, clean bodies, and then you're raiding the fridge for something to eat, wrapped up in comfy bathrobes. "Mint chocolate chip—or black cherry sorbet?” Yujin asks with the freezer door open wide, taking inventory to decide the winner.

"Princess won't be happy we ate the last mintcho, and you know she doesn't even care about the black cherry."

"We can't always make decisions based on what she prefers, that's how she ends up so spoiled."

"We?" you joke back, eyeing her from the side, making it all too obvious who the main culprit of the situation is.

"Yes—we," Yujin repeats with an accusing, yet playful tone, raising her brow. "As if you don't spoil her every chance you can get too, daddy. So don't even start."

Nothing can defend against that, or the way Yujin giggles, putting the tub of black cherry on the counter and shutting the freezer. "You must be forgetting how often I find her in your room, panties stuffed in her mouth with a vibrator against her cunt."

Yujin's cheeks get a touch redder when she digs out two spoons from the utensils drawer, handing one your way, twisting the ice cream lid off before sitting right down in your lap.

“Okay, fine—we're both guilty of spoiling the little brat."

Without any argument left, Yujin scoops a spoonful, scraping along the edge before she brings it to your mouth, kissing you right after. "Only because she'll be so insufferable if we don't, so we've picked our poison."

You can't exactly deny that, but that doesn't mean you have to like it, digging your own spoon into the tub of black cherry and enjoying a big bite.

"She'll survive without getting her way for one night."

"Don't be so sure. Ice cream is one thing," Yujin muses, already digging her spoon in again, taking a mouthful down without sharing this time. "But that cock of yours, she won't last ten minutes without it buried inside her, you know."

"That's what handcuffs are for," you laugh, thinking about how easy it would be, tying her limbs to the bedposts while Yujin takes whatever she wants from you.

"Don't be mean, daddy. Wonyoungie’s been good lately, let's not deprive her too much. Save the handcuffs for next time when you fuck her brains out after she gets back."

Again, she's not wrong—about any of it, but you don't have any more time to think about it when Yujin makes a show of licking her spoon clean, slow and suggestive with the tip sliding along her bottom lip. She isn't as subtle as she thinks, using a finger to dip into the tub before doing the same thing again, sliding that finger into her mouth to suck so lewdly.

"I'm not sure what tastes better right now: you or the sorbet. Both are so sweet, so sticky and creamy…"

"Yujin, please. Can I not eat ice cream without you being such a slut?"

"Hey—you like me being a slut. It's not my fault I can't stop thinking about licking this ice cream off your thick cock. Bet it would taste so fucking good."

"Think you need another shower. A cold one, without me this time," you say with a roll of your eyes, scooping up the last big bite of ice cream to finish it off.

"I think I need more dick," Yujin says back, so casually. She's even far less subtle when shifting her body, robe riding up along her thighs. "Ice cream, and then daddy's cream filling me up..."

You hardly have a response to something so shameless. No point even trying to, not when she's still at it, sliding a finger in whatever leftover melted ice cream is left inside the tub, then bringing it back to your lips to suck clean. And you do without hesitation, cleaning up the sweetness on her finger, taking the entire thing in between your lips—but then your teeth bite down firmly, hard enough for it to almost hurt.

"Now who's being a brat, daddy?" Yujin chuckles, withdrawing the digit so suddenly, taking the incentive to get off your lap and toss the container away.

“Learned from the best."

The fun moves to the couch with both of you horizontal in a tangle, Yujin on top in a lazy straddle. It's anything but innocent when her hands work beneath the fluffy bathrobe to feel up your chest, fingertips dancing along wherever she pleases while her lips stay locked on yours.

"Daddy looks so sexy in this robe—almost as much as when there's nothing covering you at all," Yujin murmurs, not afraid to leave a big lipstick stain on your cheek that she runs over with her thumb to smear. It's when she gets a bit adventurous, finding the belt to loosen it ever so slightly, wanting what's underneath. "Shame there's more covering you than there needs to…”

"Jesus, Yujin. How are you even more insatiable than usual?”

Yujin is nothing but smiles and giggles. "Do I need a reason? You love that about me, daddy. Don't act like you aren't the exact same. Besides—Wonyoung won't be home for a while, plenty more fun to get into while it's just us."

"Pounding your ass in the bathroom wasn't enough for you? And then a huge load all over your face?"

"Daddy, of course not. I thought that was obvious by now—one huge load in my hungry little pussy barely does anything to satisfy me," Yujin says so brazenly, the look on her face like she's offended for having to explain it.

"You're an absolute brat. What would you do without me?"

"Definitely not get fucked nearly as well. All the toys in the world couldn't compare to that amazing cock. None of them can cum inside me like you can, either."

"Is that all I'm good for? Filling you with my load? Nothing else?"

"Yep. Nothing else, daddy.”

She giggles with this wicked little grin that forms on her lips while she opens your robe wide, exposing all the skin she could hope for. A few bites along your chest, a couple playful little licks, then her hand slips lower. Grazing across your abs, she moves lower even until gets exactly what she wants—your cock wrapped up in her grip, stroking you nice and slow.

"God, daddy—just look at this perfect, thick cock, making me drool all over. Been inside me everywhere, in my mouth, filling my tight asshole, there's nowhere I haven't been stretched open by this."

"I think you're just as spoiled as our little princess. Maybe even worse."

"You're the same, daddy. Couldn't be happier to let me sit on your cock as much as I want. Always needing my mouth on you too, how many pairs of my panties have you ripped off me now? Some of those were my favorite, you know."

"Can you blame me for being impatient? When your body looks like this? When your pussy feels as amazing as yours does?"

"Guess we're both obsessed," Yujin says, extending her smile with her fist tightening around you while she pumps up and down, stroking faster. "All that time spent studying when daddy couldn't breed me... I know you enjoyed fucking Wonyoung all you wanted when I wasn't around. How many times did you pump her tight little cunt full of cum, or paint her pretty face?"

"Not enough," you say without hesitation. Yujin lets out this little huff in reply, tugging a few times hard to pull that extra grunt from your lips. "It's not as fun pounding her ass if you're not here for her to eat out at the same time."

"Fuck," Yujin whispers under her breath. "Nothing is better than that slut eating my pussy while you're destroying her ass. Watching you empty your balls inside that perfect, round little bubble butt and seeing how much cum I get to lick out of her gaping, creampied little asshole—“

"You're getting me so hard just thinking about it."

"Good, that's the point. Keep thinking about it. How she's on all fours, choking on your fat cock while I’m devouring your cum out of her ass.“

"Yujin—"

"Yes, daddy?"

"Get up here already. Need that fat fucking ass down on my face."

Yujin wastes no time, obeying with a grin spreading across her lips, so happy to oblige in an instant. Slowly, she removes her robe, one hand first loosening the belt around her waist, then a casual drop off her shoulders. All revealed in a single motion.

You don't move an inch while waiting with growing anticipation, and soon her back is to you, those deadly curves in plain view, ass hovering above, right where you need it so desperately. She only hesitates for a moment before lowering her plump cheeks down, with you pulling her hips the rest of the way. Then you have exactly what you crave, teasing that puckered hole with a quick flick of your tongue. "This ass, Yujin—this perfect fucking ass."

Not even a chance for any response as your tongue buries in that tight little hole, a low moan from Yujin quickly following suit. She grinds against your face to make your work a little easier, her warm, soft cheeks pressed down, taking full control so she can ride that hot breath.

“I think daddy’s more insatiable than any of us. Can’t go a day without having me sit on that cute face,” Yujin says, this sultry groan of satisfaction slipping between her lips the more you slide your tongue in. And you’re not going to deny any of that.

Your fingers dig into her soft cheeks when she's so perfectly at your mouth, tongue so deep inside the rim of her ass so you can swirl all along that sensitive hole, give whatever she craves. Her movements slow only for the second needed to grab your cock, aching and throbbing, fingers around your shaft with a firm grasp. She starts stroking you gently, using that same rhythm she's riding your face with.

“F-fuck, love that tongue, daddy,” she groans, and the faster Yujin pumps, the rougher you tongue that tight hole of hers, drinking in those heavenly sounds that escape. “Love when daddy eats my ass like this, when he gets all greedy…”

And the way she whimpers when you lick a little slower, more deliberately to tease your tongue across her puckered hole, gives you plenty of motivation to draw this all out. Yujin gets lost so easily in the pleasure when her entire body reacts, really trying her hardest to trap you beneath her ass.

"Just like that, don't fucking stop," she pleads, rocking harder onto your mouth when you burrow deep, and both her talented hands travel the full length of your dick, thumb circling the swollen tip, spreading precum everywhere. "How many times can I milk you today and have you still be rock fucking hard, daddy?"

"As many times as you fucking want," you mutter, tongue swirling faster, sliding up and down, and you can't even begin to contain how ravenous you are while she works your cock. One pump, another, your dick throbbing between her magical fingers. "Doesn't matter how many times if I can get my tongue deep in your pretty little asshole."

"Fuck, you're so obsessed, you know that, daddy? So obsessed," Yujin breathes out, strokes picking up a bit while getting a hand on your balls, cupping them, playing and tugging with them gently.

"Like you can talk—"

"At least I can admit I can't go a day without your dick inside me."

"Needy little slut."

"Says the one who needed to beg to get their tongue in my asshole,” Yujin says, all smug in tone. You’re not really in any position to argue when you have her sitting right on your face, your tongue buried between those cheeks. Regardless, it gets you exactly what you want—those sinful sounds, Yujin moaning, trembling atop your face so shamelessly.

"Don't hear you telling me to stop," you say between quick, short strokes of your tongue. Yujin only lets out a desperate little whimper of confirmation, tugging on your balls a bit firmer, playing with them so deliciously between her fingertips.

“Only because you’re f-fuck—so good at it.”

That's your cue to double your efforts, going in with everything you can. Your tongue laps at her saliva-drenched entrance, making her shudder so desperately with every swirl, yanking out all these moans with every flick.

Yujin doesn't have anything else to say, the silence broken only by a loud, satisfied moan whenever your tongue plunges deep, those delicious cheeks suffocating you when they crash down onto your face. She’s just falling apart by the second, hardly able to do much but play with your balls and tease a single finger up your shaft as she moans shamelessly, head hung back, hips rocking harder against your mouth.

"God, daddy, you’re so good—fuck, so good at this. Love how obsessed you are, so needy for me," she whines, eyes squeezed shut, just letting everything spill from her mouth. "But you're so hard now, that cock needs to be in me, I need it, fuck—"

Yujin pleads so sweetly, lifting up with only enough time to keep your tongue right on her the moment she moves. You watch the entire time she slides down your body, reaching the spot just above your hips where she ends up, ass in the air when she lines you up. "Daddy doesn’t need to do a thing. Let me fuck that perfect dick while you relax and enjoy my wet little cunt."

Hardly anything to complain about there. Yujin immediately squats down and reaches underneath to grab hold of your throbbing length, angling just right, teasing the tip up against her slick folds.

You let her handle the rest, and get two deep handfuls of that perfect fucking ass while she takes your entire length without struggle. These content sighs leave her throat the second you're balls deep, when your cock gets swallowed by that heavenly warmth. She's so tight no matter what entrance, lifting up that immaculate body, so she can sink back down entirely to the base and consume you in that wonderful, wet heat.

"Shit, Yujin, feels so good, so fucking good, god," you groan out, losing yourself in how tight her warm little cunt is, those wide hips already in motion. Her hands get a firm grip on your thighs, using them for support when she gets so deliciously deep off the bat, ass bouncing so perfectly for your own benefit.

“Needed this so bad," Yujin gasps, words pouring from her lips without even thinking. "This thick dick in me, pounding my needy little cunt. I’m obsessed, obsessed with your cock, just like you’re obsessed with my ass, my tight cunt—my pretty face that you love covering. How good is it, daddy?"

“So fucking good, Yujin—fuck, baby. Love watching you fuck me like a desperate little cock slut.” She picks up speed and looks over her shoulder, right into your eyes, mouth hanging open with these desperate little moans as your gaze travels down to those slick, pussy lips that grip so impossibly tight, demanding you stay inside.

"Like I could do anything but bounce on your thick fucking cock, god, I can’t get enough of feeling daddy so deep."

And this look she gets, this hunger that reflects in her eyes confirms it. The way Yujin rolls her hips, slamming so deep and sinking as far down as she possibly can—it all makes you throb so hard when she comes crashing down, hot flesh on hot flesh so goddamn loud. Her moans turn up a level when you palm those soft cheeks, slapping away when they bounce, digging your fingers deep into the flesh to get even more reactions out of her.

It's all so careless the way she rides your cock, and it doesn't take long before she's getting all sweaty again, perspiration that glistens on her lower back with how she fucks you harder, dropping those perfect, rippling cheeks all the way down. Another heavy slap to her ass makes her cunt tighten even more, and Yujin only impales herself harder, digging her nails into your thighs, a little pain only adding to the pleasure as your cock slides through that slippery heat.

"Gonna ride daddy until he fills me up, until those balls are so fucking empty. You're only allowed to breed me today—that little whore Wonyoung doesn't get anything.”

There's a hint of jealousy in her voice that’s mixed with her demands, like she's using your body to release the frustrations of how Wonyoung has been dominating your attention lately. And you're more than happy to comply. To enjoy the vigorous way Yujin impales herself on your cock, the way she can’t do anything but throw herself on you even harder, crashing down, thighs so obscenely spread out on either side to give the perfect view of every inch that gets buried inside.

"Fuck, can't get enough, can't ever get enough. Daddy’s cock is so perfect, gonna fuck you until I cum, until I cum so hard—and then you're gonna fill me, aren’t you? Fill my cunt so deep, you’re gonna breed me over and over,” Yujin says, like it’s your only purpose to do just that.

Her body is always in motion, the rhythm of her hips never one to yield for anything as Yujin rides you so hard you can hardly breathe. Left behind is a slick, dripping mess that leaks down your shaft when she lifts up, only to slam down hard as she can, balls deep, every last inch inside.

"Almost there, almost fucking there," Yujin gasps out, and so are you, that familiar swelling in your balls, ready to unload right after she does. "Shit, daddy, oh god, I'm gonna fucking—“

Her body finishes the rest of the sentence at the end of one satisfying bounce—and then she's clenching violently all around your shaft while she fucks herself right over the edge. She gushes with almost enough force to slip out, but her weight is pressed all the way down, thighs trembling, body shaking, moaning even louder when her orgasm tears through her entire body.

It hits hard—harder than it should with that pretty face twisted up in bliss. But Yujin keeps bouncing, the lewdest little noises spilling out so much like the slick that coats your shaft.

"Daddy, fuck, oh my god, daddy—" Yujin gasps out when she slams her hips down again and again, each bounce in your lap not letting up, her greedy cunt getting so unbearably tight around your cock.

Her walls continue clenching, almost begging for you to spill right then and there. She's slowing herself down just enough to let you savor how those swollen pussy lips spread around your length, how goddamn wet they've gotten, so eager to milk another load. Yujin rides it all out, these constant bounces that are anything but gentle, and then her hips lift up enough for you to slip out—

There's an emptiness in an instant, one that doesn’t last long when Yujin shifts her weight around to face you, all her arousal coating your aching length. She sits right back down, sinking back down with that insane grip before your next breath, your cock right back inside where it belongs.

"Need to see daddy’s face when he breeds me. Need that load pumped as far as it can go in my fucking cunt,” Yujin demands, and god, she looks like a beautiful mess, this strain in her voice that makes her sound so goddamn sexy. It only gets you closer to the edge, having that gaze locked on you while she rests her palms on your chest, hips picking right where they left off.

Then she's bouncing so quickly on your cock, riding with purpose, tits bouncing in sync as your cock has no choice but to submit to her body.

"Give it to me—give it all, daddy. Need to make your big cock explode inside my little pussy," Yujin says, breath hitching from how frantic she drives her hips down. "Need to milk all that fucking cum out, wanna feel it so fucking deep."

"Shit, Yujin, you're so—fuck," is all you can say, a mess of words just pouring out, because no matter how many times you fuck this cock hungry little brat, she still pulls all this out of you. "Addicted little fucking slut so greedy for my cum."

“Shut up and breed me, daddy. Breed this desperate fucking slut, please, let me have it, let me feel this thick fucking cock pumping everything in me, fuck—“

Despite her climax moments ago, Yujin doesn’t know the meaning of fatigue, and continues riding with fervor, focused so intently on milking your cock. You’re there just waiting for the inevitable, watching the sweat on her body, the bliss on her face when she lifts up before crashing back down. The hot sounds of your bodies colliding play on repeat, with Yujin so wet that your cock slips out by accident, meeting the chill of the air before it disappears all in a second into that heavenly warmth again.

"So fucking deep, daddy’s so, so deep, god," Yujin moans out between these frantic bounces that you can hardly keep up with. Nothing could stop how you throb, your cock swollen and aching and just there on the edge, so sensitive to every movement. "Nothing better than getting bred by daddy's big cock, nothing better but being a fucking cum dump—"

If that wasn't enough to do you in, it's the way Yujin leans in to lick the side of your neck, moaning right in your ear while your body starts to shudder. Then there's a delicate hand that reaches up and wraps around your throat, giving a firm squeeze—that definitely does the rest of the work.

It's enough to take you all the way. enough for you to let out a loud, guttural moan while your thick mess spills inside her cunt.

The second Yujin tightens her grip on your throat is what makes you empty like never before, flooding her womb with so, so much. You hold her wrist steady as her greedy cunt milks out everything you have—her hips roll a little more while the tightness from her velvety walls refuses to relent, every violent spurt hers to have.

"Fuck yes, god, just like that, daddy, breed me. Mmh, that's so much filling me up,” Yujin moans right beside your ear, that lustful gaze that keeps your pleasure flowing while all that thick, hot seed unloads without end. You only throb even harder with each clench, her warm cunt so desperate to wring you dry as you pump load after hot load into her.

You’ve never seen such a satisfied look on Yujin’s face, your balls more than empty, but she’s still bouncing on your cock, rocking those insane hips to do what she can to squeeze a little bit more out.

“God, Yujin... fucking brat always makes me cum so hard," you say with whatever leftover energy there is left. She’s smiling at that, knowing that everything inside her is all her doing. And even as the grip on your throat relaxes, her pussy isn’t done claiming what belongs to her, these tired little bounces finishing what she started.

You’re on the verge of collapse, when Yujin leans forward to press a gentle, grateful kiss against your lips. She gets her hands cupping your face as her hips begin to move again, a gradual rise of her ass that lets go inch by inch, until you eventually slip out, leaving your load to start leaking out from her well-fucked cunt.

"That's all inside me right now. Your thick load leaking from my fucking pussy looks so good, doesn’t it? Daddy did such a good job breeding me, nothing better than being pumped so full—“

Yujin is kissing you again, slower this time, taking the time to plant her lips on any part of your face she can get, the lingering bliss doing wonders for that beautiful glow on her face. She seems as spent as you are, but even then, there’s nothing to keep her still—nothing to stop her as she guides you back in without warning.

"Jesus, Yujin—" you hiss between gritted teeth when she rolls those fucking hips again, and that slippery, wet warmth returns, your cum acting almost like lube as it mixes in with her juices. Yujin sinks back down on every sensitive inch without pause, forcing out an aching throb and that look on her face gets even more devilish. "God, you're gonna kill me, brat."

"My cum-hungry pussy isn't done just yet, daddy. I can keep going—" But you can’t. And Yujin knows the way she mercilessly bucks her hips with one quick roll, one rough motion that squeezes you from base to tip. "Daddy said I was addicted, so he’s not wrong. My poor little pussy just can’t get enough of being full of that thick fucking cum.”

Your cock can hardly take any more, not that she would ever have it any other way. “Yujin, p-please—“

"Daddy can't be too sensitive to keep fucking this little cunt. Need those balls to fill up again so I can empty them, so I can see that face again when you breed me one more time, “ Yujin says, not letting up, driving that perfect, dripping cunt all the way down your length.

"F-fucking brat, too goddamn much, too, ah—"

All this strain is right in your voice, but all Yujin does is respond with another sinister laugh before slamming that ass down hard in your lap. And with ease, she does it again, sliding off your cock just to slam back in, eager to draw every bit of sensitivity out as possible.

“Is Yujinnie being too needy for daddy's poor, sensitive cock again? Not my fault this tight pussy gets so desperate to empty those big, heavy balls, just so I can get all that cum inside me…” And to emphasize her point, she squeezes with every word, a fucking vice grip that draws out this broken, pitiful little moan from your throat. "Such an unbearable little slut that I have to beg daddy to use me over and over again."

There's a kiss on your lips that can only be described as indulgent, that takes your mind off how her pussy wants to force another load from you. But in that same moment, her hips start to ease up, the overwhelming stimulation just that tiny bit more bearable.

"Poor daddy. Fine, maybe I'll just stay here with you nice and deep inside me. At least until you're ready to fill me again," Yujin says as she nuzzles her face right up against the side of your neck. And you’ve never been so relieved when her hips finally stop moving. Her hot breath lingers on your skin as you find yourself losing the battle with exhaustion. But then—

"Are you two really fucking without me?" Wonyoung comes back at the worst time, because the second she takes a single step in the door, she gets an eyeful of this entire scene laid out in front of her, where she's barely had time to put the plethora of bags from shopping down.

"You were gone like—a million hours, and we both got a little too needy. Besides, you've been using him nonstop since finals week."

"Hey, that's not true," Wonyoung whines as she saunters over, looking at the current state of how things are and plops down on the couch cushions. "You were busy and daddy wasn't. He didn’t want you to be disturbed, so he fucked me in places you weren't—the parking garage, the dressing room at my favorite store, the campus bathrooms, this little conference room where he pounded me against the window..."

"A conference room? Like one of those with glass walls? How did you even think of that place?"

"It was in that weird old building that nobody uses anymore—but that doesn't matter. There's also the ice cream parlor where he came on my face in the bathroom."

And while she continues, the list seems to just go on and on, places and situations that seem almost unrealistic were it not for the fact you were right there at every moment.

"The place where you always get brain freeze but refuse to admit it? That place?" Yujin asks and shakes her head, like it's a completely normal conversation to have while you're still buried inside.

"I don't get—yes, that place! We went there right after. And daddy held me against the sink and fucked my brains out again. I almost had to walk out of there with cum all over my face because the sink was broken and they were all out of paper towels."

"There was literally a sign that said out of order. It's your fault for ignoring it."

Yujin can't help but laugh. "Idiot."

"I saw it! And it didn't mean I couldn't use it, okay?"

"It's in the name, princess. Out of order. Literally says not working. Literally."

"How was I-I thought it meant the toilets didn't flush or the sinks would drip or something. Not that I can't fucking come in and get bent over and fucked."

Yujin really laughs this time—this audible laugh at the absurdity, like she can't believe how ridiculous the exchange is as Wonyoung sits here all pouty, explaining herself. "There's this thing called common sense. Try using that next time."

"Fuck you, don't be so—" Wonyoung inhales deeply. "What makes you think that's even on my mind when daddy's face is right between my thighs, huh?"

"Of course not. Our princess wouldn't want to hurt her pretty, precious head thinking," Yujin fires back.

Wonyoung just ignores her and moves on, standing up with her arms crossed. "So now that you're both done and you've ruined the couch again, that means daddy is available again, right?"

"Who said we're done? And the couch isn't even that bad. Don't act like you haven't squirted all over daddy's face on this exact piece of furniture, slut."

"Hey—I, look it's not my fault he makes me cum so fucking hard I practically flood his stupid mouth when he tongues my asshole," Wonyoung protests.

Utterly ridiculous, this exchange. Yujin can't even begin to cover her amusement and giggles while shaking her head again.

"So, like I was saying, do I get daddy now, or not?"

Yujin just looks in your direction, like you have any answer for that question, your body not even able to move the slightest right now. "I think daddy needs to rest for a while before either of us drains his balls again."

Wonyoung clearly doesn’t like that answer, another pout extending on her lips. "Waited all this time to jump on his dick, and it's already fucking spent."

"Let him recharge, you greedy whore," Yujin grins, with a lift of her hips, this empty feeling returning so quickly, almost having gotten used to having your cock deep inside her. "If you're that desperate to get filled, I can go get the strap, the one that shoots loads of fake cum."

"As if that's even the same—ugh, fine," Wonyoung scoffs. "But you're letting me ride your face first. Then we'll see about putting that dumb toy in my ass."

"Fine by me, slut," Yujin responds, clearly thrilled by the notion, a wider grin showing. "Come join us whenever, daddy. We'll be in the room with the brat screaming."

That's when Wonyoung forgets about the bags left on the floor, tugging her dress up over her head to toss it away as she follows a naked Yujin who already disappears into the hallway.

You just relax back, alone for now. Maybe you'll join them later. For now, rest, recover a little. Maybe a lot—knowing exactly what you’ll walk into with these two, you're gonna need it.

#yujin smut #ive smut #yujin #ive #kpop smut #reader insert #male reader #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #girl group smut #yujin x reader

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strayingawayy · 3 days ago

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i'm all ears...

...the one where minho's there to listen, even when you've forgotten the sound of your own voice.

the night does something to lee minho.

sarcastic comments and playful bantering turn into drowsy, lovesick eyes and lips that are forever pressed to your skin. and you wouldn't have it any other way.

usually, you melt into it. usually, atleast.

but tonight, you are tired.

sweet suffering jesus, you are so fucking tired.

you don’t say it. you don’t have to. minho notices the second he slips under the covers, hair damp, skin smelling like something clean, something warm. his fingers ghost over your jaw, barely there, but still enough to tell.

you’re more tired than you were yesterday.

minho knows silences. he understands the way they settle in rooms, in bodies, in the spaces between words left unsaid. he knows the difference between the silence that means talk to me and the silence that means stay, but don’t ask.

this is the latter.

so he doesn’t ask. he doesn’t press.

instead, he shifts closer, pulling the blankets over you like he’s tucking you into the safest place in the world. and it is, with soondoongdori curled around your lying figure as minho pushes your hair up and presses a kiss to your forehead. a silent promise that he'll be there when you wake up.

and then, just before sleep takes you, his fingers find yours under the sheets. a pinky hooked around yours, small but certain.

i’m here, it says. i’m all ears, when you’re ready.

the weight of exhaustion sits heavy on your chest, pressing into the space between your ribs, curling into your lungs and making it hard to breathe on the nights minho isn't with you. you’re not sure when it started. this endless ache, this feeling of running on fumes, but minho notices. he always does.

he doesn’t ask you to explain. doesn’t tell you that you should rest more, or that you should take care of yourself better. he knows you know all of that already. knows that sometimes, knowing isn’t enough.

so he stays.

somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, you feel him shift, feel the whisper of his lips against your temple.

“sleep," he murmurs, voice like a tide rolling in. steady. certain. home.

and for the first time in what feels like forever, you do.

...

when you wake, it’s to the smell of tangerines and something warm, something sweet. the sheets beside you are empty, but only just, his warmth lingers in the space where he lay, in the pillow that still smells like him as you're greeted by the felines that make his home, along with you.

you hear the soft shuffle of sock clad feet in the next room, the faint sound of a knife against a cutting board.

when you sit up, minho is already there, standing in the doorway with a small plate of fruit in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. his hair is still a little messy, his hoodie hanging loose on his frame, lips slightly pouty and ready to be kissed, should you want to.

"good morning," he says, and there’s something about the way he looks at you, like he’s been waiting for you to wake up, like he’s been making sure the world is soft enough for you to return to, that makes your chest ache in a way that has nothing to do with exhaustion.

he walks over, setting the plate down beside you before sitting at the edge of the bed. his fingers find yours again, slow, careful, tracing the lines of your palm.

“eat first,” he says, because eating was always a priority with him. “then tell me what’s on your mind.”

it’s not a request. it’s not a demand. it’s just him, letting you move at your own pace. letting you have the space to breathe, to exist.

so you do. you take a bite of the orange he peeled for you, let the juice burst bright and sweet against your tongue.

and when you finally speak, when the words finally come, tentative but real...he listens.

like soft paws listen to the steady hum of home.

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rafesangelita · 3 days ago

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…BLUECOLLAR!JOHNB AU

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹🪵♡

BLUECOLLAR!JOHNB who owns a small construction company alongside jj and pope. he wakes up for work at four in the morning and doesn’t come back home until the sun is setting, all of the guys sharing a cold twelve pack of beer back at his place afterwards. he’s absolutely jacked, the years of heavy lifting and hard labor clearly showing in his physique. john b sold the chateau and decided to use the money to start up his business, the rest of his funds going towards his own mobile home, gas, and cigarettes. “you need a woman’s touch in here.” pope would walk into john b’s living room, the walls barren, the only furniture being a singular recliner and a small table in which his outdated television sat on. as much as john b wanted to explore that part of his freedom as a single man, he figured his rough and rugged exterior just made him damaged goods. and who would want that?

BLUECOLLAR!JOHNB who met you on the side of the road when you blew a tire and looked helpless as you tried to get cell service on the outskirts of the island. your pretty getup immediately caught his attention, the way your sundress clung tightly to your body had his tires coming to a screeching halt as you fanned yourself from the blazing heat of the sun. he cursed under his breath when your eyes fell on him, the adam’s apple in his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly. “hey, there..” he greeted you awkwardly, a teasing smile adorning your lips as you saw the way he fiddled with the tool belt on his waist. “need some help?” in no time, john b had managed to change your tire, his swiftness and ability to make the task look so easy had undoubtedly drawn you in. the way he effortlessly towered over you made your cheeks heat, john b finally gathering up the courage to ask you out on a date.

BLUECOLLAR!JOHNB who got cleaned up real nice just for you. he called pope over to help him choose an outfit, the two of them ransacking his drawers and closet for something decent. “john, all you have is fifty year old jeans, work boots, and raggedy t-shirts..” pope sat back and scanned the wardrobe of what looked like a true hardworking man— maybe a little too hardworking considering there wasn’t not one dress shirt in sight. after settling on a bass pro shop t-shirt, worn out jeans, and well— his work boots, he was quickly making his way over to pick you up from your place. you had still lived with your parents, your mother smiling over at john b as he walked you over to his dingy work truck. ‘mama, go inside!’ you whispered, your cheeks hot as she giggled, watching the way john b opened and closed the door for you. “she’s in good hands!” he reassured her before driving off.

BLUECOLLAR!JOHNB who soon realized he was nervous for nothing once you two made it to the small bar on the cut. your eyes sparkled everytime you gazed up at him, that beautiful smile of yours making his heart skip a beat in his chest. a few beers later and he was looking at you with that knowing look in his eye, sending butterflies to flutter in your tummy as he reached for your hand, softly stroking your skin with his thumb. john b couldn’t remember the last time someone made him feel like this. truthfully, neither of you wanted the night to end, a feigned gasp leaving your lips when he proposed you should come back home with him. “what kind of girl do you take me for, john?” he was quick to apologize, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose for suggesting such a thing on the first date. you laughed. “i thought you’d never ask..” john b’s head immediately shot up at your words, both of you scrambling out of the bar.

BLUECOLLAR!JOHNB who’s so strong he fucks you standing up, slamming his hips into your own as you grow more and more delirious with each thrust. he’s reaching a depth that you’ve never felt before, your nails raking down his skin as he leaves a sloppy trail of kisses across your chest. you’re screaming his name like it’s the only word you know, his grunts and groans bouncing off of his bedroom walls. it isn’t until you’re slipping out of his grip that he pins you down to his bed, your fingers working through his curly hair as he hooks your legs to his waist. orgasm after orgasm, you lose count of the amount of times he has made you come undone. it isn’t until his hips are stuttering and you’re moaning out a ‘please cum inside me!’ that you feel him spilling into you, both of you desperately clinging onto each other as he empties himself into your needy cunt. after that night, for the first time ever, john b woke up to a full lunchbox packed and ready for him for the day.

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shouyuus · 1 day ago

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more college roommate hcs?? maybe reader tries to tease vi back for bein shirtless all the time which eventually leads to them getting together??

18+ (no sex, just a$$ and tiddies), mdni, college roommate!vi cinematic universe

you have taken to walking around in your underwear.

and at first, vi wonders if she's losing it a little bit, because she's pretty sure you haven't always been like this. no. if anything, in the past couple of months, you'd been strangely... jumpy. and sure it'd been fun to tease you (walking around with her top off all the time just to get a rise out of you made something warm nudge at the base of her belly) but she doesn't think you're the kind of person to hold a grudge.

(she's been wrong in the past though, and vi thinks that it wouldn't be the worst thing to be wrong about this either.)

at first, it looks like an accident, her waking up to you humming, making breakfast like you do, an earbud tucked into your ear, barefoot in the kitchen, sprinkling salt onto the scrambled eggs. but her eyes skate down the length of your body and her breath dies in her lungs as she realizes you're in nothing but a thin spaghetti strap top and baby blue panties. her eyes catch on the lace trimming against the soft of your skin and she swears her thoughts melt into something akin to tv static.

"uh --"

"oh! hey! breakfast is almost ready -- you don't have morning practice today, right?"

"no... i uhm -- i don't..." she blinks several times before tearing her eyes away from your very bare legs, fighting the urge too shake her head like a dog trying to clear it's ears of water.

"cool! oh, i think there's some orange juice left in the fridge, can you grab it?" you turn back to the pan with a bright smile, humming to yourself.

vi swallows, "yeah sure, princess --" she turns toward the fridge, feeling oddly robotic as she opens it to grab the juice jug. all her hairs startle to attention as you lean over the counter, reaching up into the cupboards for a plate, the motion making your already tiny tanktop ride up, a sliver of skin winking at her from above the waistband of your panties.

she nearly drops the juice jug.

three days later, she comes home to the damp cling of steam in the air. frowning, she drops her duffle and wanders towards the bathroom, where the shower's clearly just been turned off, but the door's wide open. and there you are, standing in the steam-ridden bathroom, in nothing but a bra and panties, toweling dry your hair.

"whoa -- sorry --"

"hm? oh! you're home! nice -- i was gonna ask if you wanted to come out to dinner -- i think mel found a really cute wine bar she wanted to try --"

vi stares; she can't help it. you're in a matching set, and even though it's nothing fancy, it still makes her brain feel oddly liquid as she watches your tits bounce slightly in the semi push-up bra.

"wine... bar?" vi asks, her voice slurring slightly even to her own ears.

your eyebrows hitch, a tiny smile tucked into the corner of your mouth as you cock your head.

"yeah, it's pretty close to that one hotdog joint you like so i figured i'd ask."

you make no move to cover yourself up, and distantly, vi thinks that a few months ago, you would've never showered with the doors open.

"sure i -- i'm down -- uh -- is anyone else coming?" vi asks, somehow forcing eyes away from your cleavage. you reach up to hang the towel by the door, dropping back down on your heels.

vi's eyes snap back to the way your tits just bounced.

(what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?)

"-- probably jayce, but other than that no one... vi?"

"huh?" she jerks back slightly, eyes slingshotting back up too meet your gaze. and this time, she sees it -- a flicker of something so very much like mischief caught in the light there before you're laughing, light and airy.

"nothing just... you seem a little out of it. everything okay?"

you squeeze by her into the hallway and she barely catches the way her own eyes trail the shape of you towards your room, the round of your ass cheeks caught in the simple black panties you're wearing.

"yeah -- just..." she swallows, her mouth suddenly very, very dry.

"a long day?" you offer, twisting around to glance at her over your shoulder half a second before you bend down to rummage for a dress in your chest of drawers.

vi feels a curse bubbling out of her --

"holy fuck --"

"hm?"

"no, nothing! i -- i'm gonna shower before we go."

"sure! i washed your towel for you today, so it's fresh," you say, seemingly unperturbed as you finally disappear into your room, though you still make no move to close the door.

"great, t-thanks princess! really... appreciate it..." vi lets her voice trail off into a soft grumble as she nudges the bathroom door closed with an arm and tugs her sweaty practice clothes off. her foot catches something by the bathtub, and she looks down to find a lacy thong with a bright pink butterfly ribboned in the front.

it takes her four whole seconds before she's reaching down to pick it up and hold it to the light. it's not her's, and it's been months since she's brought a hookup home (not since she's started to imagine you between her legs every time she tries to get off with someone else), so -- by elimination it has to be --

yours.

"sweet fuck."

it only gets worse after that -- she'd come home to find you sat on the couch in a veritable fortress of notes and textbooks, in a crop-top and heart-patterned undies, or walk by your room just in time to catch you tugging off your top, your back to the door (thankfully, vi doesn't know if her heart could take it if she saw you fully with your top off --)

"is our ac broken or something?" she asks one day, frowning at the wall controls. you look up, frowning slightly, a highlighter caught between your fingers, as you sit cross-legged on at the dining table, one of her shirts sloping off your shoulder (but you've tied the bottom up with a rubber band so it sits above your abdomen, cutting off right above where a pair of dark red lacey panties is oh so visible underneath).

"hm? no -- why?" you sound distracted, your eyes falling back to your notes.

vi blinks at you.

"you never wear pants anymore."

you freeze, your fingers poised over a line of miniscule text, the highlighter hovering above the page.

when you look up again, there's a fox-fire gleam to the dark in your irises, and a grin that would've made the god of trickers himself puff with pride slung crescent-moon sharp over the shape of your lips.

"what was it that you told me last time?" you ask, your voice sweet enough to slick the skin, "i just always run... hot?"

vi's expression flatlines. she closes the distance between the pair of you in three quick strides and before you can stutter out her name ("v-vi --?"), she's hauling you out of the dining table chair and onto the sofa, pinning you beneath her, one of your wrists caught beneath hers, her other hand skating down the length of your body to tease at the waistband of your panties.

"you little tease..." she murmurs, but there's no poison in her words, only a bone-deep wanting. it rumbles through her to you, shaking shivers down your spine as you whine beneath her.

"mmm you started it," you say, eyes flickering between hers and the shape of her parted lips; the tiny scar there makes your mouth water.

vi narrows her eyes, giving your wrist a warning squeeze as she leans in just a fraction closer. like this, you can almost taste her breath against your tongue.

"so what... are you gonna finish it then, princess?"

"i-if that's what you w-want --" you stumble over your words as vi presses a knee up between your thighs.

"yeah? you're gonna do what i want?"

you let out a pitched whimper; vi delights in the way your pulse jutters in the triangle of your throat. but you nod, a bit frantic, as vi digs her nose into the junction of your neck and breathes.

she lets out a thick groan, an ever-familiar warmth pooling at the base of her belly as she thinks about sinking her teeth into your skin, about seeing the shape of her teeth inked into your skin for days and days after.

it's nearly enough to drive her off the edge.

"but nothing's gonna happen if you don't ask for it first, pretty girl..." she pulls back, grinning when you immediately try to tug her back, the hand pinned beneath hers curling into a loose fist.

"vi... please --"

desire pulses deep in vi's gut. she wonders if things will ever be the same after tonight (it won't) but she also wonders if she still wants them to be the same after all this (she doesn't).

"yeah? please, what?"

you blink up at her, your lashes almost star-lit in the dim light of the dining room.

"kiss me," you say.

vi's breath comes out shaky, her pulse threading through her like some desperate, fluttering thing. she watches you beneath her, thinks to herself that if this is her undoing then so the fuck be it.

"is that what you want, princess?" she asks, and her voice is honest, the edges frayed with all the uncertainty she's ever felt when you've pressed in a bit too close, when she's lingered over the afterimage of your smile, cast against her eyelids at night.

you nod up at her, and in your eyes, she finds something akin to absolution as she leans down to graze her lips over yours, the touch so soft it's almost a memory.

"fuck, vi --" you groan, jerking her down with your free hand fisted at the throat of her shirt, "kiss me, kiss me, kiss me."

she lets out a debauched moan as she tips herself into the heat of your mouth to kiss you, and kiss you, and kiss you.

#⛈ monsoon season #i always say this and it's always true -- i have NO CHILL WHY DID THIS GET SO LONG #vi x reader #vi x you #arcane x reader #arcane x you #college roommate!vi #vi smut #arcane smut #it's not actually smutty but there's a lot of talk of cute lil undies and an obscene amount of ghey panick #arcane vi x reader #♨ steamy #arcane #vi fluff #arcane fluff

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kashverse · 1 day ago

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mamakuna showing babykuna pictures of dadkuna and mamakuna when they started dating to then getting married : 3

this was such a sweet thing to write, thank you for requesting :)

sometimes, when you feel particularly sentimental, you like to take out an old shoebox hidden in the back of your closet—a silly little memory box from when you and sukuna were still young, brimming with more ambition than the capitalist machine could ever contain.

and, naturally, babykuna, with her insatiable curiosity and her obsessive love for anything you do, wiggles herself onto your lap, her chubby hands grabbing at the pictures you pull out. "what’s this one, mama?" she asks excitedly, waving around a photo.

it’s an old one. a bit worn at the edges. you smile fondly as you look at it—it's from back when you and sukuna were just coworkers, sitting stiffly in a boardroom, surrounded by serious-looking people in suits. your hair is neatly pulled back, and sukuna’s? a disaster.

"this was when papa and i worked together at our old job," you explain, pointing to yourselves. babykuna squints at the picture, then at her father sitting beside you, who is watching the two of you with amusement. "papa looks like he fought a tornado," she says matter-of-factly. sukuna scoffs. "it was called having style."

"it was called oversleeping and showing up late," you correct, laughing. sukuna grumbles under his breath, but babykuna is already diving into the box again, plucking out another picture. this one is years later—in front of the building of sukuna's newly formed company. his tie is a bit loosened, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and he's beaming—really beaming—in a way he wasn't in the last picture. "this is when papa started his own company," you explain, brushing your fingers over the photo.

"he looks so happy!" babykuna giggles. "yeah," you chuckle, nudging sukuna. "he was so happy he picked me up and spun me around right after this was taken."

"that’s called celebrating," sukuna says smugly. babykuna nods seriously, then turns back to the box.

next, she pulls out a photobooth strip—four little snapshots.

first one: you and sukuna sitting side by side, a little stiff but comfortable.

second one: sukuna leaning in a little closer, you both mid-laugh.

third one: you two are cheek to cheek now, eyes crinkled with amusement.

fourth one: sukuna halfway through biting your cheek. your face is a picture of betrayal.

"papa, why are you eating mama?!" babykuna exclaims, horrified. "i was just showing my love," sukuna grins.

"with your teeth?!"

"yep."

"ew."

you sigh, shaking your head, but the next picture has you laughing immediately. it’s a shot of you and sukuna in matching santa costumes, both looking like you were dragged into this against your will. your mouth is open mid-yell, probably reacting to sukuna biting your cheek—again. "uncle gojo's birthday party," you say, still laughing.

babykuna stares at the photo. "papa," she says slowly.

"yeah?"

"why do you keep biting mama?!"

"i like the way she tastes."

"ewwww!"

and then finally—she finds the last set of photos. polaroids, from your wedding. not the big, polished, magazine-worthy shots hung around your home—these ones are natural, candid, genuine. one where you and sukuna are laughing mid-toast, your glasses clinking together. one where sukuna is helping you fix your veil, an unexpectedly soft look on his face. one where you’re leaning against his chest, eyes closed, his arms wrapped around you. babykuna gasps dramatically. "mama, papa, you look so boo-tiful."

"yeah?" sukuna murmurs, looking over the photos with a soft smirk. babykuna nods. "like princess and dragon."

you snort. “who's who?”

she blinks.

"…obviously papa is the dragon."

sukuna grins, ruffling her hair. "damn right."

babykuna presses the photos to her chest, looking between you and sukuna with the happiest little smile. "i wanna keep these forever."

sukuna leans back, watching the two of you gush over the memories, and realizes something - he's already won everything he's ever wanted.

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lambilegs · 1 day ago

Text

best friend's older sister!sevika headcanons pt. 2

contains: modern!au, nsfw content (so minors/ageless blogs dni!!), cursing, reader is mentioned to have family issues, hcs + blurbs set pre-confession and post-confession, mention of spanking, strap-on sex (reader receiving), breeding kink, dirty talk, degrading (the word "slut" is used), humiliation kink, sevika physically teasing reader at family dinner, mention of smoking, reader's body is referred to w the terms "pussy" and "clit"

pt. 1

best friend's older sister!sevika who pauses outside her door when she hears the muffled noises of your crying, followed by her sister's voice. her eyebrows immediately draw in concern, stomach turning as possibilities run through her mind. you mentioned having an exam earlier this week -- did you fail it? was someone bothering you? did you need her to do anything?

when her sister's in the shower, she knocks quietly on the door, your call of, "yeah?" pushing her to enter.

once she does, her eyes immediately scan your face, looking for signs of distress. when she finds your eyes pink and glossy, a bolt of nervousness shoots through her, taking her off guard for a second.

once she swallows down the feeling, she tilts her head at you, leaning on the frame. "all okay?" she asks, trying to keep her voice levelled, not wanting to reveal just how much worry is stirring within.

"yeah." your mouth is twisted in something resembling pain, and she eyes you carefully as you sit up in the bed. "it's just, you know, family stuff."

she nods. she understands that, alright. most people would think that being the older of the two, she'd fight with her father less than her little sister, but the truth is that out of everyone in her house, they butt heads more than anyone else. she usually shrugs it off when anyone asks, with her most popular coping mechanism being fuming in her bedroom with a cigar while heavy music blankets over all her thoughts. probably not the healthiest way to react, but it's worked for this long. besides, she doesn't have the patience to sit at a desk and do that journalling bullshit her sister always prattles on about.

"sorry." she contemplates for a few moments on what else she could say to help, rocking on the balls of her sock-clad feet. all she comes up with is, "families suck," silently berating herself for being so incompetent.

but, at least you laugh, the noise a bit breathless, so sevika takes pride in that. "yeah, that's the understatement of the century."

"do you wanna, I don't know, talk about it?" just to ease the weight of the question, she mutters, "you know, I'm pretty good at belting insults at anyone who deserves it."

"oh, yes, I'm sure of it." you nod at the wall where the shower can be heard from. "she's told me how vicious you were in middle school."

she bristles, feeling her stomach tighten in embarrassment. she was a little asshole, alright, and she can't lie, her younger sister bore the brunt of it. something she secretly regrets now -- not that she'd ever admit to it. she probably never would've revealed it you in the first place if not for her sister ratting her out.

"well, I-- that was middle school. I'm not like that now."

your eyebrow raises, lips tilting up. "you know, some people would argue that who you are as a kid shows what kind of person you are at the core of it."

she scoffs. "who, freud? considering the other stuff I've heard about that guy, I think I'll pass on believing that bullshit."

"oh, c'mon, I can tell you all the merits about his theories."

"and while that sounds riveting, I guess, I'd prefer knowing if you... you know, need anything?" she shrugs, her eyes trained on you.

you smile softly, the corners of your lips crinkling. "thank you. I don't feel like talking about it much now, but I appreciate it a lot."

she nods, rasping on the doorframe, unsure as to how to proceed now.

"huh, someone's not really used to this."

she rolls her eyes, sending you a half-hearted glare. "oh, shut up."

best friend's older sister!sevika whose attention towards you is beginning to become obvious, even for you. she's started seeking you out instead of any of your other friends when she's looking for her sister, and when she enters the room, her eyes always flicker to you immediately. it makes you feel like a spotlight is casted upon you, your entire body, your entire being, reserved for sevika.

one day, one of the girls in your group leans over to you, her tone lowered with conspiracy. "you know, I think sevika has a thing for you."

your best friend groans, smacking her arm. "god, please! that's my sister, for god's sake."

"and? she's hot?"

her face morphs into complete disgust, eyes squeezing shut. "please, that's so fucking gross."

while you laugh along with the conversation, you can't help but warily glance to your best friend, mind whirring with thoughts of whether or not she's being earnest. you and sevika aren't, well, anything really -- at least not anything officially declared or acted upon. for months, it's just been tosses and back-and-forths of teasing and flirting. but, there has been no step over the threshold that divides you two between nameless, vague chemistry and the agreement to work towards a real relationship.

but, still, there is something there, and you cradle a hope in your chest that it'll turn into more one day, an actual thing that can be named. but, it's hard to feel positive about that outcome when you're not even certain if your best friend would approve or feel comfortable.

she meets your pondering stare, and you immediately backtrack, turning away so she can't read what's on your face.

a moment later, her palm rests on your knee and she laughs, tone as casual as ever when she says, "honestly, if anyone could tame her, it's you."

your lips part in shock, but she simply squeezes down gently before carrying on with the conversation.

best friend's older sister!sevika who pretty much wants to wring her cousin's neck out when she spots her conversing with you. well, it's not the conversing that's the problem -- she's not that crazy. or at least, she pretends not to be.

it's the fact that she knows her cousin hits on every one of her and her sister's friends, and she's clearly doing that with you right now, eyes half-lidded and voice lowered to what sevika hopes sounds more like darth vader than sexy to you. god, she nearly wants to kill her sister for being stupid enough to leave you alone with her. but, judging from her sister's shit-eating grin from where she stands at the food table, sevika suspects that it was intentional.

she tries not to crush her plastic red cup in her hand and send her vodka-spiked punch spilling everywhere. when her sister had casually mentioned last night that you'd be showing up to this family barbecue, sevika, much to her own embarrassment, had felt an immediate buzz of anticipation at knowing you'd be there. it's stupid, she knows. she's a grown ass woman, not some teenager -- yet, there she was, biting back a smile as she walked up the flight of stairs back to her bedroom. and when she reached her destination, she could barely focus, her thoughts straying to how she'll get a rise out of you rather than remaining on the toy she was meant to be building for the kid she babysits, isha.

she couldn't lie to herself about it. she was goddamn excited.

if only she had known how the day would wind up. it's nearing to late afternoon, and still, she hasn't spoken to you once. as soon as you and her sister had reached, the two of you had met with your usual gaggle of girls. and sevika hadn't been in the mood to entertain their giggles and leering stares upon coming to get you from them. and so, she waited. and then, you were dragged off to talk to her sister's favourite cousins, and then, to the idiot you're currently speaking to. a few minutes into what sevika hopes is a cringe-inducing conversation, her sister had left you to go to the food table.

she knows she has no reason to be jealous of her cousin. after all, look at the dimwit, she barely has game. she's so flashy with it, no subtlety. if you weren't the object of her cousin's attention, she might've actually taken some amusement in watching from afar.

but, no, it just had to be you. she can't even blame her cousin -- after all, you do look damn good, that's for certain. if this wasn't a family event, she'd be dragging you to the nearest corner, pushing you against the wall, and teasing you until you're a squirming little mess. god, she's just throbbing at the idea of it.

but, the feeling gets washed over with ice when her dumb cousin starts stroking her knuckles against your arm. stupid kid. and why are you smiling at her? do you not realize she's flirting? do you like that she's flirting? oh, now that thought leaves a sour taste in her mouth.

her composure snaps when she sees you laugh, and with a firm toss of her cup in the nearest garbage bag, she calmly makes her way to you. she knows she ought to be better than this. she should be the one with sense, with rationality -- the one who keeps her shit together while you become a fumbling mess whose feelings might as well be written on your forehead. that should be you. not her.

but, it's like her mind is working on overdrive, all her instincts honed in on making sure she takes you away and has you all to herself.

when she slides next to you two, your jump in surprise, looking up at her. her eyes rove over your features, drinking you in, wondering momentarily if you even realize how crazy you drive her.

"hey, sev, are you looking for your sister? because she's--"

"no," she cuts in, her palm bracing against the small of your back. "give us a sec."

"wha-- but, I--"

sevika doesn't give her cousin a moment to protest, firmly guiding you away to the front of her house, which has been left secluded now that people are eating in the backyard.

when you stumble into her back from her sudden halt, you blow out a frustrated puff of air. "what the hell was that?"

she feels her thick, dark eyebrows furrow, her gaze casted down on you, unwavering and focused. "I should be asking you that. why were you talking to her?"

"your sister left me with her!" you protest, your voice raising a pitch she'd find cuter if it weren't for the sour taste in her mouth.

"and? that makes you incapable of leaving a conversation afterwards?"

your eye twitches. "and why should I have left the conversation?"

sevika swallows, feeling her throat bob with the movement. if she acts like some jealous girlfriend, it'll be all too clear what it is she feels. and that's a bit too exposing for her. sure, you two flirt and push-and-pull, but it's something she could easily pass as a game if ever needed be. but, jealousy, disliking you talking to someone other than her? that's way too obvious, and there's no way of covering that up.

so, she takes a different route. "you know, if you're gonna be hitting on someone at this thing, it should be--"

"you?"

she nearly splutters, blinking hard at your growing smirk before continuing. "no. it should be someone other than the fuckboy-wanna-be relative who hits on anything with a pair of nice legs and pretty eyes."

your smile only widens and sevika has the sudden urge to bend you over her lap until you're a sobbing mess.

"so, you think I have nice legs and pretty eyes?"

"are you dense? how is that what you focus on?" despite the harsh undertone of her words, she can feel her body stiffening up under your watchful gaze, desperately hoping you don't realize just how badly she wants your attention. it feels pathetic, really, to be putting up a fit like this because just you spoke to someone flirtatious other than her. shit, she needs to save some face.

"yeah, because I think it's weird how you're dictating who I can speak to as though you're my girlfriend or something!"

"that's not how I'm acting--"

"yes, it is!" you scoff, stalking up to her and pointing a finger against her chest, the contact making her jerk back from the spark it leaves. "you wouldn't be this pissed if it was just about concern."

she's silent for a few seconds, her mind running through possible comebacks. the only one she can think of is a hard, "you don't know that."

you tilt your head at her, as though she's some kid in need of a scolding. it only exacerbates her frustration, causing it to flare up low in her gut. "well, if it's just about you being concerned, then let me continue talking to her. you warned me, I took it in stride, and if things go wrong, you can always rub it in my face late, okay?"

she sighs, beginning to regret having ever acted out now that this is the turn the situation is taking. you were supposed to take her words in, and do as she says. instead, you're arguing back, just like you always do. but, she knows that at this point, she'd be a hypocrite to complain about it. she knows it's why she likes you.

"you really want that?"

you cross your arms over your chest, and sevika tries not to let her eyes stray downwards. "is there a reason why I shouldn't?"

stupid mind games. sometimes, she hated being gay because of this.

she likes you, sure, but she doesn't have the patience to beat around the bush. which she's aware is hypocritical and stupid, considering that's what she's been doing this entire conversation. but, still.

so, she shrugs. "beats me."

your eyes flash with something, jaw clenching. sevika can't tell if it's a look of determination or anger.

but, what does it matter if you're spinning around to stomp back into the backyard?

she releases an exasperated breath, fishing for her cigarettes.

best friend's older sister!sevika whose voice makes you jump when you're stirring instant noodles in a frothy pot of water later that night.

"jesus, sevika!" you gasp, your other hand flying to clutch your chest. "what the fuck are you doing here?"

"it's my house, remember?" she dryly remarks, padding over to the fridge and grabbing a carton of milk. pinching the flap open, she drinks straight from it. you'd find it gross if it weren't for the way her lips wrap around the soggy cardboard material, the muscles of her neck protruding as she gulps it down.

when she bends down to put it back, you turn away, your stomach churning from how any bit of laughter is totally drained from her voice, leaving it flat and achingly unfamiliar.

you've felt guilty since the barbecue. sure, it's annoying that she makes demands of you without actually admitting her feelings. but, it's clear that she was upset in that moment. so, maybe you should've been a tad nicer.

"uh, sevika?" you meekly call out right as she's about to exit the kitchen.

she freezes in the entryway, casting you a sidelong glance over her shoulder, which is pinched from the strap of her tight tank top. god, you wanna kiss the indent it leaves.

"I..." you trail off, shifting side to side on your feet, the low bubbling of the water the only noise filling the room. you don't know what's too much or too little, so you mull over your words before tentatively saying, "you know, I'm not interested in your cousin. like, at all. I had no intention of flirting back with her, or, like, pursuing something with her."

she's silent for a few seconds, her eyes flicking away as her jaw tenses, which sends her cheeks hollowing out. you stare at her for a few seconds before focusing your attention back to stirring the noodles, needing something to occupy your thoughts other than the thick, stifling tension seizing the air.

finally, she speaks, her voice low but firm with surety. "well, I didn't want you to flirt with her... for reasons other than what I said."

your stomach tightens up in anxious, gut-wrenching excitement, forcing your mouth to remain in a clenched line. you know this isn't exactly a confession, but it's unspoken between you two -- what she means, that is. there could only be one reason other than concern that would explain how protective she was earlier. a reason that, sure, you're not certain about regarding the details or her intentions, but that nonetheless has you feeling like you could jump with the amount of energy surging through you at the mention of it. no matter how vague.

you can sense she won't say anymore, though, her body rigid with tension. so, to try to lighten the mood, your own body sagging in relief now that you two have somewhat made amends, you drawl out, "yeah, that much was clear."

she snickers, turning fully to you and propping her arm on the door frame. you expect her to give her own retort, but instead, she just... watches you. smirk slowly curling on her face, eyes crinkling in amusement, she simply stares at you.

after a few moments of feeling like the side of your head is burning from her razor-sharp gaze, you say, "what?"

the corner of her mouth quirks up further. "for someone who says it was obvious, that was a pretty big grin you had on your face just now."

you huff indignantly, ducking you head down to the noodles in order to avoid getting caught in your flustered state. "well, I'm just grinning because my noodles are almost done."

she peers at the time flashing over the stove before shaking her head and grimacing at the pot. "why are you even eating this crap at 2:00AM? we have actual food in the fridge."

"I was craving this," you defend with a squeak, shooting her what you pray is a convincing glare despite your heart racing from her earlier words. "besides, I didn't know if your family would be having the leftovers."

"don't be stupid," she chides gruffly. after a pause, she adds, "you know you're family."

this time, you can't resist the beam that overtakes your face, eyes squeezing in delight as your cheeks throb pleasantly from the joy embracing you. you've, of course, heard this sentiment from your best friend plenty of times before, but never from sevika.

"thanks," you murmur feebly, sending her a small, bash smile.

she simply nods in return, her lips pressing together as she continues observing you.

part of you basks under it. the attention of her focused grey eyes, the heavy weight of her gaze -- it all sends a thrill to you that's hot and burning, making you feel you're being revived from a lifelong slumber. how did you ever manage without the life-altering feeling which is sevika's gaze directed to you?

"so, I guess I should head up," she says, sticking a thumb behind her.

your body immediately tenses in protest. she can't leave -- not like this, not after this tender moment you two just shared. not when her presence here holds the contrast of warm assurance and ice-cold surprise that you're always craving.

a loud "no!" bursts from your lip as she's just about to turn.

when she sends you an inquisitive stare, forehead wrinkled in confusion, you feel your face heat up in embarrassment over your over-eagerness. but, it's too late to scale back, so you force yourself to proceed with, "I just-- why don't we hang out a bit? maybe watch gilmore girls. and, I don't know, share the noodles and, well, left overs."

her eyes widen, lips parting in surprise, and it almost makes you want to cackle. how could she even be surprised you want to spend time with her? are you just that good at hiding your want for her, or is she that romantically dense?

"um, yeah, okay," she says, a hand curving up along the back of her neck. "but, don't think I'll eat that crap you're making."

your shoulders ease at the joke, laughing as you wag your wooden spoon at her. "it's good, okay? I don't know why you'd deprive yourself of it."

"if I didn't deprive myself, I wouldn't have these." she flexes her bicep, and you try not to let your gaze roam over the toned muscle bulging out. no need to satisfy her that much. "and wouldn't that be a pity for you?"

you bristle, but still find yourself unable to quell the laughter that bubbles up your throat. "fuck off. my life isn't so sad that your muscles are my sanctuary."

"fair point -- maybe 'religion' is a better term."

ugh, her grin is infuriatingly coy as she heads back to the fridge, pulling out a tupperware, her veins bulging out as she grips it.

you want to fuck her so bad. and then, yell at her. and then, fuck her again.

"just, shut up and heat up the leftovers," you grumble, turning your back to her as her laugh, hearty and scratchy in all the right ways, flows from her lips.

honestly, the lack of eye contact is for both of your guys' benefit. god knows how you'll react if you see that cute gap again.

best friend's older sister!sevika who, after you two start dating, places her long fingers on your thigh when you join her family for dinner. she knows it's a bit evil of her, but she can't help it. your body is just so reactive -- a fact that she was delighted to learn upon your first time sleeping together. it just makes it so much fun to toy with you like this.

your leg immediately flinches when her fingernails skim along your skin, and she'd probably smile if she wasn't so well-trained in public play to know exactly how to keep a straight face.

but, you? she knows you're struggling. she can feel it in the way you shift in your seat, shoulders rolling as her warm palm flattens against your skin, her fingers sinking into the plush of your thigh. or how your body suddenly lurches forward when she suddenly pinches her nails into the skin, causing everyone at the table to dart concerned glances your way.

you sheepishly laugh it off, shaking your head and saying, "sorry, I, um-- I just got a weird shiver."

sevika honestly feels impressed that you're able to keep your cool this well, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow. she knows it probably goes against the whole supportive girlfriend thing, but seeing you manage to remain calm only makes her want to test you even more.

and so, she inches her fingers up so that they smooth along the tender skin of your inner thigh. you immediately stiffen up, your back straightening to an almost comedic right angle. sevika's mouth twists, trying to hold in a chuckle at how you writhe when her blunt nails begin to trace shapes into the hot patch of skin. god, she wants to dip her fingers in further, feel the tight heat of your pussy wrap around her digit as she pumps it in and out of you.

she clears her own throat to cut off her breaths from getting too shallow. god, she needs a cold shower or some shit. plus, the entire point was to get you hot and bothered, not her.

trying to gather her bearings, she presses her fingers into the sensitive area, slightly digging in the curves of her nails, trying to replicate she sharp sting you feel when she sinks her teeth into that spot before eating you out.

it seems se's successful, based on the way your legs shift again, pressing together and trapping her hand there. and your cute face is noticeably distracted, expression glazed over, lips hanging open.

when your fingers curl around her wrist, keeping her hand there, she smirks behind the rim of her glass, taking a careful sip before wrenching her hand free from your grip, continuing with her meal.

through the animated conversation her sister and old man are having, she can hear you grunt in frustration.

but, she doesn't even turn to you. after all, what would be the fun if she just gave you what you wanted?

best friend's older sister!sevika who shakes you from your deep sleep when you're curled up on the mattress in her living room, your best friend fast asleep on the couch. before you can mumble incoherently, your eyes barely making out her broad frame through the sleep-tinged blur, she presses a finger to your mouth, quietly shushing you.

you nod, your heavy eyes blinking rapidly to register what's going on. but, you can barely get a whisper in before sevika scoops you up, her strong arms easily carrying you up the stairs to her bedroom. you have to bite back a gasp at the sudden manhandling, though a spike of arousal zips through you from how easily she takes you to her bedroom, dropping you unceremoniously onto her navy blankets.

you frown at her, eyes sharpened into a glare. "sevika, wha--"

she plants her lips on you, crawling on top of you and pinning your body to the bed with hers. she's sloppy and ungraceful with it, shoving her tongue into your mouth and swirling it around yours as a hand slides up to loosely grip your throat.

"you didn't think I'd leave you hanging, did you?" she mumbles against your lips, her hand drifting down your body to start fiddling with the waistband of your pajama shorts.

"well, you already did once, so I wouldn't be surprised if it happened again," you murmur against her prodding mouth, trying to keep your voice dignified in light of all the pants and whines beginning to crawl up your throat.

"awe, c'mon, baby," she snickers, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your cheek while the rest of you practically combusts from the low, scolding tone she takes when calling you that. "even I have my limits."

and, oh, how fucking good it feels for sevika's limits to be broken, you think as she pounds into you with her dark purple strap-on, her hand over your mouth as she pumps her hips steadily, hissing whenever her bed frame bumps too loudly against the wall.

you wrap your legs around her, nails raking up her back as the toy plunges into you over and over again, stretching your walls taut. it feels good, so good, the dull ache of her nearly-too-big dildo making your entire pussy throb in a way that makes you feel impossibly full.

"listen to that," she whispers against your ear, the hot moist of her breath making you break out into shivers. "your pussy is soaking my new sheets. such a mess you're making."

god, you just leak even more from those words, the mix of your juices and the lube creating deliciously loud squelching noises in her room, only growing more pointed and firm when she begins to drill particularly hard, intentional thrusts into you. the movements have the bulb her of dick pushing against your g-spot with every rock of her body, and it sends a warm tingle through you, wrapping your nerves in pleasure and sparking them to life.

you whine against her hand, eyes rolling back when her cold, mechanical finger begins to flick along your clit. the cool, steel-hard texture of it against your swollen little nub has your body arching up, each brush and flick feeling so heightened through all the other sensations running through you.

"yeah," she chuckles darkly, grazing her teeth along your earlobe. "you like that, don't you? getting this pussy slutted out, having me fucking up your guts and making room for my babies?"

your hips jolt up at those words, a loud whine erupting from your mouth before you can stop it. sevika hisses at it, pressing her mouth to yours, her thighs smacking against yours as she continues drilling you into her mattress.

"be quiet," she rasps, her breaths shattering into uneven little pants. "you want everyone in this house to know what a slut you are? you want everyone to know you couldn't last a night in here without getting dicked down by your best friend's sister?"

you can barely respond, your entire body set aflame with the pleasure of her on top of you, surrounding you with nothing but warm skin, hard muscle and filthy, nasty little noises.

"ah," you moan quietly against her mouth, fingers tracing the indents your nails have left in her back. "feels s'good, I just-- I can't--"

"I know, baby, I know," she grunts, fingers wrapping around your jaw and shaking your face like you're her personal doll. "no need to worry your pretty head with talking, yeah? just be good and let me cream this pussy."

and so, you do. over and over and over again.

best friend's older sister!sevika who tries not to smirk too hard when her sister asks over breakfast why you're wearing a turtleneck in the middle of july.

#IK Y'ALL HAVE BEEN WANTING A PT. 2 SO I'M SOOOO PUMPED TO POST THIS <333 #as usual pls pls let me know what you guys thought!!! even if it's just a line you liked or just a basic concept you enjoyed I wanna know!!#it makes super happy to know what you guys think mwah mwah #s.writing #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #arcane x reader #arcane x you

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adelicatebubble · 3 days ago

Note

more hcs about dae ho as a father and his breeding kink please!!

kang dae-ho as a dad | sfw - nsfw | headcanons ᰔ .ᐟ

- he's shocked when you mention wanting to start a family with him

- 'a baby? with me? you're sure? you want a mini you or me running around?'

- he's wanted it so badly for a while, but he never wanted to pressure you into it

- once he knows you're both okay with it, he'll want to start trying immediately

- he's over the moon when he finds out the two of you are expecting

- he'll start researching everything from parenting books, childbirth classes, and even goes to his sisters for advice

- before even reaching your second trimester, the nursery is already set up as well as your hospital bag and a small list of baby names

- stockpiles on baby supplies; diapers, pacifiers, rattles and other cute toys, strollers, blankets. this man goes all out

- he will often crouch down to kiss your stomach and talk to the baby

- 'i think she'll have your eyes'

- 'how do you know it's a girl?'

- 'just a feeling, my love'

- he'll take care of all of your pregnancy cravings

- throughout your trimesters he's so incredibly protective of you, ensuring your safety everywhere you go

- you and the baby are his number one priority

- he wants you to depend on him, but also be independent in your own right

- he wants you to feel supported every step of the way

- reassurance is a given with him

- 'you're safe with me, i'm here alright?'

- 'whatever happens, we're in this together'

- he adores kids very much (and the thought of you with his!)

- he finds you being good with kids so attractive

- no doubt in my mind that this man is the best girl dad

- also four sisters-in-law, you two have all the support in the world

- he'll be the gentle but firm type of parent

- if you're exhausted, he'll take over for you

- 'shh~ your mom is resting, let her get some rest, yeah?'

- he's so relieved when your newborn is finally placed in his arms, he wouldn't be able to help himself smiling at you in adoration

- 'look at what we made' he smiles down at your baby lovingly

- dae-ho couldn't be any happier with the three of you

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ ˎˊ˗ nsfw under the cut

- he desperately wants to get you pregnant so he can experience having a big family again, like how he grew up with four older sisters, it's what he's used to

- even after you have your first child together, he still wants to give you more

- thoughts of you being a mother to his kids turn him on so much

- he thinks you would look so pretty pregnant

- he'll be very curious about how your milk tastes so expect him to beg to try it

- very, very passionate sex

- he has a huge breeding kink

- he can go for hours with his military stamina

- when breeding you, you'll go for multiple rounds just so that he can be sure that you're carrying his baby

- 'are you going to be able to fit another load inside you, hm?'

- he fits inside you perfectly, massaging your insides

- 'fuck baby, you take me in so well'

- 'it's like you were made for me'

- he becomes quite possessive

- 'you're all mine, every inch of you is mine.'

- he won't instantly pull out, he'll stay put for a while almost as if he's plugging you

- when he does pull out, if his cum starts to leak out he'll softly fuck it back in

- 'we can't be sure you're pregnant just yet'

#squid game #squid game imagines #dae ho #dae ho smut #dae ho squid game #dae ho x reader #daeho #kang dae ho #kang dae ho x reader #kang daeho #squid game dae ho #squid game smut #kang ha neul

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prettieinpink · 3 days ago

Text

CREATING AN INTENTIONAL WARDROBE

I. SETTING GOALS

IDENTIFY YOUR STYLE. You don’t have to look through the list of different aesthetics, nor do you have to name it, but at least have a way in which you could explain it in a sentence.

If you’re someone who is a bit on the fence with their fashion identity, I would start with a ‘base’ aesthetic that you like then start building your own on top of it over time. Think boho, streetwear, y2k, classy etc.

CONSIDER YOUR LIFESTYLE. I don’t think its a great idea to go buy a fancy dress for a hypothetical event which may not ever happen. You have to think about what you’re doing on a daily basis, and which staples will be worn to their full extent.

If you’re a very active person, I would invest into activewear or clothes that resemble it. If you’re someone who’s attending university, I would invest into casual cute basics but also smart staples for networking events.

So in a way, don’t buy clothes for your fantasy self or events. I do understand that wearing clothes that our higher self would wear can close the gap between us and the, however material things don’t mean anything when it comes to that.

SET A GOAL. Your goal can be anything when it comes to fashion. You could also have multiple goals. Here are some ideas for goals which may speak to you!

Investing into high quality pieces

Having less but wearing them more.

Increased confidence

Developing personal style

Having a versatile collection

Comfortable yet stylish.

There is a lot more goals that you may have came up with by yourself, but this is just to get you started. I recommend just having one goal and really honing down into it, is a lot better in this aspect.

II. INSPIRATION + PLANNING

CREATE YOUR DREAM WARDROBE, whether digitally or physically. Pinterest is a great place to start, and you can create collages now. Or, you may choose to create a beauty binder which consists of outfits that you like.

One thing I will add on to this, is to add in people who look like you or just don’t show their faces at all. Attractive and fit people can make most outfits look good, and you may be influenced by that, even if it's not going to be flattering on you (considering colours, shape, texture etc).

LOOK AT THE CONSISTENCY, which colours were you drawn to the most, did you favour any patterns, are there any pieces which showed up repeatedly? Look for any consistency throughout the outfits.

TAKE NOTES !

Colours: Did you lean towards lighter/darker colours, were there any colours that showed up repeatedly, patterns that you gravitated to?

Silhouettes: Were the clothes flowy and light, or fitted and shaped the body?

Minimalism: Were the clothes simple and straight to the point, or were they maximalist and boasting personality?

Alignment: Does the outfits match the lifestyle that you have and the one that you want?

Staples: What articles of clothing showed up repeatedly?

You don’t have to write it down, however I would make a mental note of all these details in your dream wardrobe.

III. DEALING WITH YOUR CURRENT WARDROBE

LIMIT AS MUCH WASTE AS YOU CAN. More of a disclaimer, than a tip, but you don’t have to throw away everything just to replace everything. A lot of clothes that are in good condition can either be upcycled or have another purpose.

SORT CLOTHES INTO THREE PILES. Keep, potential or donate. Keep are clothes that align with all of your goals, potential are clothes that are almost there and may need some tweaking and donating is for clothes that you feel misaligned with.

That being said, don’t keep clothes that you know will collect dust in your closet if you have no intention of repurposing them. You could give them away to your friends, a facebook buy nothing group, if it's really good quality and in good condition then consider reselling it on depop or vinted. It's still wasteful when you’re not using it.

Before deciding anything, actually wear them instead of evaluating them on a hanger. Hangers can make clothes look worse or better depending, but the only way to find out if you like it, is to try it on.

IDENTIFY WHAT'S MISSING. From the clothes that you have left, see if there’s anything in your dream wardrobe that you don’t have in your closet. I’m not a big fan of ‘filling gaps’ in closets, so I would avoid purchasing statement pieces to fill that gap, just focus on staples that, considering your lifestyle, will wear.

Make a list of all of these items, and try to eliminate any pieces of clothing which wouldn’t be staples in your life.

IV. BEING INTENTIONALLY FASHIONABLE

CREATE YOUR OWN COLOUR PALETTE, I dislike the colour theory for people or colour seasons, just because you may not feel confident in the colours that are ‘best suited’ for you. However, I do love the idea of having your own personal palette that you gravitate towards.

I would recommend having 1 dark colour, 1 neutral colour and 2-3 accent or statement colours (depending on your style). My current palette is navy, grey, pastel pink, pastel blue and pastel yellow.

This does not mean you only buy clothes in that colour, it just means that its easier to curate your wardrobe with pieces that you love and do wear. I do wear colours outside of my palette, but I do favour those colours when looking for new clothes.

AVOID ULTRA FAST FASHION. I’m talking about SHEIN, temu, alibaba or aliexpress. I know the cheap prices seem enticing, but their clothes will fall apart after some time and it's just not sustainable in the long term. Save your money and buy from places which you know will last.

Other fashion stores are fast fashion (just not to the extent of the ones listed above), so I would still be very intentional about what I’m buying from them. Reminder, expensive does not equate to being sustainable.

AVOID MICROTRENDS. If you do feel that a trend speaks to you, then go for it, but otherwise I would not give in. You’re buying clothes that are misaligned to you, so you waste money, and then when that trend inevitably dies out, you have a reason to throw it out. It's an endless cycle, don’t give in.

One trend which I will never give into, has to be baggy jeans. Baggy jeans are really unflattering on my curves, no matter the waist. While they’ve definitely had a decline recently, when I was in year 7, it seemed that was all that everyone was wearing but I just couldn’t get into it.

LEARN HOW TO TAILOR CLOTHES. It is not a given that all clothes regardless of your size, will fit right. Just because something doesn’t fit you properly, doesn’t mean you have to throw it away or put it back on the rack.

Personally, I’ve lost a bit of weight over my high school years, so a lot of clothes that used to fit me, become a bit loose on my body. I found it unflattering, so I learnt how to do the basics of hand sewing to make clothes fit me the best.

Learning how to tailor could also help in upcycling clothes that have potential. There’s a lot of basic clothes out there, which just need subtle changes to elevate the whole article. Plus, you’re saving money!

HAVE A SIGNATURE ELEMENT. Something personal to you that expresses yourself without having to say anything. It could be a certain type of jewellery, a bag, a colour, pattern etc. Its just something nice, but not essential for those who are constantly experimenting.

V. SHOPPING MINDFULLY

KEEP IN MIND YOUR PALETTE. For me, being experimental with so many colours ends up with too many fashion failures. I do buy outside of that palette, but only if I know for a fact that I will wear it (not just once) and I do feel like it aligns with me regardless of the colour.

Even with that, I’m still very likely to put back anything which is not my palette. As much as I do like experimenting, I find security knowing that I do like my clothes and I will wear them.

PURCHASE INTENTIONALLY. Even if something fits your palette, it may not be something that you will wear or style. Always ask yourself questions when shopping, and if you’re not all in, I would put it back.

Does it tick all of your boxes according to your dream wardrobe? Do you see yourself wearing it next year? (trends, body changes, lifestyle changes), can you style it with the wardrobe you have now?

CREATE A WISHLIST. Create a list of all the clothes that you want, regardless of any questions or palette. However, these clothes will have to sit on that list for at least a month. If you still find yourself wanting it, then you can permit yourself to purchase it. If not, you’ve just avoided a regretful purchase.

If you would like to shop in person, I would still create a list when I go out then only purchase items that resemble what’s on my list.

VI. MAINTENANCE

REGULARLY CLEAN. If you have a shelving system, at least bi-monthly I would take out all of my clothes and wipe down all surfaces in my closet. If you have a hanging rack instead, I would still wipe it down because of dust accumulation.

ORGANISE. Whatever system works best for you, keeps your clothes easily identifiable at a glance and it's neat, I would use it. Utilise hangers and baskets to help your wardrobe if needed.

Learn how to fold your clothes nicely yet easy to pick out what you want. Its such a small thing, but I do believe it will improve the quality of daily life as you don’t have to scavenge for what you want.

DECLUTTER BIANNUALLY. Whatever time of the year works best for you, then do it. Turn your wardrobe upside down to see if there’s anything that misaligns with you. Overtime as you declutter, you should be donating less stuff if you’re practicing intentional shopping habits. WASH YOUR CLOTHES AS INSTRUCTED. Washing your clothes properly will extend their lifespan, unfortunately, just throwing them all in the wash isn’t actually beneficial. Read the care labels on each of your clothes and use them.

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daeniradraconis · 2 days ago

Text

Age Is Just a Number…Right? - Luke Hughes

Summary: Luke. Age gap. Jack being a menace as usual, making sure you're not getting away that easy. Warning: Implied sexual situations, mature language, flirtation, age gap (6 years)

Note: Hey, lovelies! So, originally, this fic was all about Macklin Celebrini and Will Smith, but then I realized—Will is 19, and honestly, he’s just a baby to me. Even if he said he loves older woman. Boy go back to kinder garden. (Sorry Will, love you, I promise!) So, I decided to swap in the Hughes boys instead. I’ve gotta be honest, it gave me a bit of a headache. Now, this started as a quick, short fic. I swear, I had every intention of keeping it short. But, well… 7048 words later, here we are. I got hit with a ton of ideas and feelings, and the story just kind of... grew on me. You’ll probably notice the tone/style shifts halfway through, and I’m definitely sorry for that!

But hey, I hope you all enjoy it despite the wild ride! ❤️ For more fun: masterlist

The first thing you notice is warmth.

A heavy arm draped over your waist. The steady rise and fall of breath against the back of your neck. The scent of clean laundry, cologne, and something distinctly him clinging to the pillow beside you.

The second thing you notice—you are not in your own bed.

Your stomach flips as your brain reboots, sluggishly piecing together fragments of last night.

The blind date.

Luke.

His charming smile. The way his chestnut curls fell into his eyes when he laughed. The way he leaned in when you spoke, like you were the only person in the room. The teasing brush of his fingers against yours when he reached for his drink. The electricity that crackled between you when you finally caved—when he kissed you outside the bar, his hands firm at your waist, his body pressing into yours like he couldn’t help himself.

And then… more.

Your face burns as memory after memory floods in. His hands, his mouth, the way he whispered your name like it meant something.

Nope. Not thinking about that.

Carefully, you shift beneath the covers, untangling yourself from his hold. Luke stirs but doesn’t wake, his arm slipping away as you ease yourself upright.

That’s when it really hits you.

He looks so young.

His chestnut curls are a mess, his lips slightly parted, his entire face softened in sleep. He looks… peaceful. Innocent, almost.

A strange unease settles in your stomach.

Your gaze flickers around the unfamiliar room. It’s nice but lived-in—hockey gear shoved into the corner, a few discarded clothes on a chair. Your eyes land on the nightstand, where his wallet sits slightly open.

You don’t mean to snoop. You really don’t.

But something about last night nags at you.

Just a quick peek. Just to make sure.

Fingers trembling, you reach for it, flip it open.

And your heart stops.

Luke Hughes. Age: 21.

Twenty fucking one.

As in, young enough to still pull all-nighters for fun. As in, could still be in college.

And you? You are twenty-seven.

Oh. My. God.

Your hands fly to your phone as you furiously type out a message to your friend.

"WHAT THE HELL?! YOU SET ME UP WITH A 21-YEAR-OLD. I AM A GROWN WOMAN. I PAY FOR MY OWN HEALTH INSURANCE."

No response.

Coward.

Panic thrums in your veins as you stare at Luke—still peacefully asleep, completely unaware that you are having a full-blown identity crisis in his bed.

You need to leave. Now.

Right?

But for some reason, you hesitate.

Because Luke… Luke is the first guy in a long time who actually made you interested. Who made you laugh so hard you snorted into your drink. Who listened—really listened—when you talked, instead of just waiting for his turn to speak. And, well. The man or more like a boy, had managed to get you to orgasm. Twice!

Which, considering your track record, felt almost miraculous.

Your past partners had barely managed to get you there once—if at all.

And now you’re just supposed to sneak out of here like it never happened? Like he was just another bad decision?

Your stomach twists.

But then you glance at the wallet again. Twenty-one.

Yeah. You need to go.

Sliding out of bed as silently as possible, you scan the room for your clothes. Your shirt is on the floor, your jeans halfway under the bed. You grab them quickly, yanking them on with the precision of someone defusing a bomb. Bra? Found. Socks? One is missing, but you’ll live.

Once fully dressed, you tiptoe to the door. Your shoes. They’re outside the room. You remember kicking them off in the hallway.

One deep breath.

You ease the door open, peeking into the dimly lit living room.

Empty.

Good.

You take two careful steps out, eyes locked on your shoes near the front door. Almost there. Just a few more—

“Busted.”

You scream.

Not a blood-curdling horror movie scream, but a very real, very startled yelp that absolutely does not help you maintain any dignity in this situation.

Your body jolts like you’ve just been electrocuted, arms flailing wildly as you spin toward the voice.

There, sprawled across the couch, is a guy watching you like this is the best morning of his life.

Tall. Ridiculously handsome. Light brown hair, messy in a way that suggests he just woke up. Sharp cheekbones. Blue eyes filled with pure mischief.

And a smirk so unbearably smug that you immediately want to punch it off his face.

You clutch your chest, heart racing. “Jesus Christ, who the hell are you?!”

The guy grins wider. “Damn. Didn’t even recognize me? That hurts.”

“Am I supposed to?”You blink, still catching your breath.

His smirk falters for half a second before returning full force. “Oh, that’s good. That’s really good.” He tilts his head, studying you like you’re some kind of rare specimen. “You actually have no idea who I am, do you?”

“Why the hell would I?” Your frown deepens.

He lets out a dramatic sigh, like this is somehow the greatest tragedy to ever befall him.

“You’re telling me,” he starts, sitting up slightly, resting his arms on his knees, fully entertained, “that you came home with my brother, slept with him, and have no idea who we are?”

Your stomach drops.

Brother?

You knew Luke had brothers—he mentioned it—but you had no idea they were famous.

Your eyes flick toward the bedroom, then back to him. “You’re—wait, you’re one of Luke’s brothers?”

He snorts. “Wow. No recognition at all. That is humbling.”

“Should I recognize you?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugs, mock-offended, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes. “I guess I’m only one of the most famous people in this city.”

You blink, a little thrown off. “…You’re a local weatherman?”

He chokes, eyes widening. “A what?!”

“You’re acting like I should know you,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t keep up with the news, but you definitely have the vibe of a guy who points at maps for a living.”

He definitely doesn’t. If anything, he looks more like a kooky stripper with an annoyingly fit body. But there’s no way you’re feeding his ego—this idiot would probably take it as a compliment.

For a split second, he just stares at you, his mouth hanging slightly open.

Then, as if the tension snaps, he howls—full-body laughter, throwing his head back and wiping a fake tear from his eye.

“Oh my God,” he wheezes, clutching his stomach. “This is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

You cross your arms, trying to mask the irritation bubbling up. “Glad I could contribute to your morning entertainment.”

“No, you don’t get it,” he says between gasps for air, leaning forward with an infectious grin. “This is amazing. Incredible. I live for moments like this.”

You raise an eyebrow, your patience wearing thin. “Moments like what?” you snap, unable to hide the rising edge in your voice. Honestly, you’re just relieved Luke didn’t inherit Jack’s over-the-top, obnoxious personality. If he had, you probably would’ve bailed on this blind date five minutes in.

“Moments where I get to witness something so spectacularly awkward, so painfully embarrassing, that it will sustain me for weeks.”

You glare at him with pure annoyance. “I hate you already.”

He clutches his chest dramatically. “Ouch. That wounds me.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Oh, no doubt.” He smirks, and for a moment, it almost reminds you of Luke—though the two brothers couldn’t look more different. But that same confidante smile? It’s unmistakable. “Especially since I now have the upper hand in every conversation we ever have from here on out.”

“We’re never having another conversation after this!” You try to sound firm, but your voice cracks, betraying you.

He just grins wider, shaking his head like he’s heard that before. “That’s what you think.”

You exhale sharply, fed up with the entire exchange. “Look, I’m leaving. Forget you ever saw me.”

“Not a chance.” He leans back against the couch, thoroughly amused. “You’re trying to sneak out of my baby brother’s room like a damn criminal. This is gold.”

You scowl again. “I’m not sneaking out.” You fumble with your shoes, trying to get them on while defending yourself. Luckily, the hallway and living room are one open space, making your escape a bit less awkward.

“You literally just tiptoed past me like you’re starring in Mission Impossible.”

You groan. "I was trying not to wake him up." Rolling your eyes, you keep wrestling with your damn laces—of all times to betray you, it had to be now. Frustration bubbles up as you huff, "I need to go."

Jack cocks an eyebrow. "Why?"

You freeze mid-motion, exhaling hard through your nose. "...Just because."

"That's not an answer." His arms fold across his chest, his gaze pressing into you like he’s daring you to crack.

Your stomach twists. Heat rises to your face. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to give him the satisfaction—but the words rip out anyway.

“Because I just found out I slept with a 21-year-old, okay?! I’m 27. That’s a six-year difference! That’s a whole presidential term and a little extra! That’s a—”

You stop, realizing how ridiculous it sounds now that you're saying it.

Jack stares at you, blinking. There’s a long silence before you speak again, but his expression shows no understanding of the mental chaos you’re in.

You sigh and tug at your hair in frustration. “I wasn’t expecting this. I thought maybe he was older, and now… I just don’t know how to feel.”

Jack, for the first time, softens his teasing expression. But it’s clear he doesn’t quite get what you’re saying.

“Well,” he shrugs casually, “you’re still not leaving. You’re stuck here until Luke wakes up.”

“No, I’m not.” You shake your head, stubborn.

“Yes, you are!”

Before you can argue, you hear movement from the bedroom.

“Jack, why are you yelling?”

Shit.

You freeze.

Jack just grins wider.

You turn, and there he is—Luke, standing in the hallway, shirtless, hair an absolute mess, looking at you with adorable confusion.

Jack smirks. “Oh, you know. Just chatting with your date about how she was totally about to dip.”

“Wait. You’re leaving?” Luke’s voice is a mix of confusion and hurt, and suddenly, you feel a wave of guilt wash over you.

You shift awkwardly, caught in the middle of it all. “I just… didn’t want to wake you.”

Jack snickers. “Translation: she found out you’re barely legal and panicked.”

Luke’s eyes flick to his nightstand, where his wallet still sits open.

“…Wait. Is this about my age?" He sounds confused—adorably so. Too adorably.

You open your mouth, but Jack is already cackling.

“Oh, it absolutely is,” Jack says, shaking his head. “She took one look at that ID and nearly had a full-blown existential crisis.”

Your face flushes deep red. Jesus, you really can’t stand that blue-eyed bastard.

Luke blinks, then sighs, clearly frustrated a little bit. “So, last night was… amazing, but now it’s a problem because I’m 21?”

You shift uneasily. “It’s not a problem, exactly. It’s just…”

Jack grins mischievously. “Hilarious?”

You glare at him, a mix of embarrassment and irritation burning through you. “Not the word I was going for.”

Luke tilts his head, watching you closely. “Did it feel weird last night?”

Your face instantly flames. “LUKE.”

Jack cackles. “Ohhh my God, this is so good.”

Luke shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m just saying. You didn’t seem to mind my age when you were begging for—”

You lunge at him, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

Jack, leaning in with barely contained joy, grins wider. “Oh, no, let’s hear it! This is the best! I live for this shit.”

You whip around, shooting daggers. “Do you really have to be here?”

Jack places a hand over his chest, feigning innocence. "Of course I do. I’m just the clueless bystander, watching your meltdown. It’s my duty as a brother. How else am I supposed to tease Lukey later?"

Luke licks his lips, glancing between you and Jack. “Wait… so you’re really freaking out over this?”

You sigh, your frustration starting to boil over. "I just… didn’t realize you were so young."

Jack snickers from the side, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, no, I think she’s just overthinking it. But hey, it’s cute.”

Luke shoots him a glare. “Jack.”

Jack raises his hands, completely unbothered. “I’m just here to state the obvious.”

You groan, feeling a headache start to form at the base of your skull. "Can I just… go? Please?" The words come out sharper than you mean, but you’re too tired to care.

Luke looks at you, his gaze softening with that same sleepy affection from last night. You almost hate how it makes your chest ache. "You really want to leave?"

You pause for a long moment, considering.

And truthfully?

No.

You don’t.

Last night wasn’t just a fling—it was Luke.

Luke, who had you laughing through dinner, making you feel like you were the only person in the world. He treated you like you were someone worth admiring, someone worth cherishing. And when he kissed you, it felt like the first rainstorm after a drought, washing away everything but the two of you.

And now he’s standing there, messy-haired and sleepy-eyed, looking at you like he’s trying to figure out what’s going through your mind.

Jack, sensing the shift, leans back dramatically. “Ohhh, she’s thinking about it.”

You glare. “Shut up, Jack.”

Jack smirks like a little kid in the candy shop. “Nope.”

Luke lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing his face with both hands, his puppy like eyes softening as he looks at you. "Alright," he mutters, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Let me make you breakfast before you decide I’m too young to function."

Jack perks up from the couch. “Oh, hell yeah. Stay. Luke makes a mean omelet.”

Luke shoots Jack a teasing glare, his eyes rolling in exasperation as he half-smirks. "Why are you even involved in this?" he says, clearly annoyed but with a playful edge, like he can’t decide if he should laugh or strangle his brother.

Jack shrugs dramatically. “Because I live for chaos.”

You hesitate for a moment, staring at Luke as you battle the urge to stay or run.

“…Fine. One omelet.”

Jack fist-pumps the air. “YES.”

Luke grins like he’s already won. “Good. Because I was going to make you stay anyway.”

—

You don’t know how you ended up here.

One second, you were committed to sneaking out like a thief in the night. The next?

You’re standing in Luke Hughes’ kitchen, watching him move around with annoying ease, pulling eggs and cheese out of the fridge like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Jack, of course, is sitting at the kitchen island, grinning like the mischievous idiot he is.

“You look tense,” he observes, propping his chin in his hand and resting his elbows on his knees. “Regretting staying already?”

You shoot him a withering look. “I regret a lot of things. Letting you talk this morning is at the top of the list.”

Jack gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. “Ouch. And here I was, being such a warm and welcoming host.”

You roll your eyes. “You ambushed me.”

Jack shrugs casually, sipping his coffee. “Semantics.”

Luke, bless him, doesn’t engage. He simply smirks to himself as he cracks an egg into a pan, clearly used to Jack’s shenanigans. “Jack, are you actually gonna eat, or are you just here to be annoying?”

“Oh, I ate already. I’m just here for the show.”

You narrow your eyes at him, a smirk playing at the corner of your mouth. “Seriously, what’s your deal? You get some kind of thrill out of torturing me?”

He’s an asshole, but damn, he’s the kind of asshole that almost makes you laugh.

Jack flashes a devilish grin, clearly enjoying the chaos he's creating. "You're sharp. I like that. Smart women are way more fun to mess with." He leans back, arms crossed, his eyes twinkling with mischief as if he's already plotting his next move.

Luke huffs a laugh, the sound full of fond exasperation. He rolls his eyes, his messy hair falling into his face as he nudges Jack with his shoulder. “Just ignore him. He thrives on being a menace,” he says, shaking his head, but you can tell he's not actually mad.

Jack grins even wider, clearly proud of himself. “Yep. It’s what I do best,” he says, puffing out his chest like he’s just announced some kind of grand achievement.

You rest your elbows on the table, watching as Luke flips an omelet with impressive skill. “Okay, I’ll bite—how did you get so good at this?”

“Gotta learn some life skills when you live with Jack. Otherwise, you starve." He shoots his brother a pointed look, one that’s half annoyance, half fondness.

Jack scoffs, dramatically pressing a hand to his chest like he’s been wronged. "That’s unfair. I provide entertainment." His voice is teasing, but there’s a clear twinkle in his eye.

Luke snorts, barely stifling a laugh. "Entertainment doesn’t make up for the fact that you once tried to microwave a frozen pizza."

Your head snaps up at that, eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. "I’m sorry, what?"

Jack groans, cheeks flushing with a rare hint of embarrassment. "It was one time, and the oven took too long!" he mutters defensively, but you can see the red creeping up his neck.

Luke smirks, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he gestures vaguely toward the stove. "You almost burned the apartment down," he points out, no trace of sympathy in his voice.

Jack waves a dismissive hand. "That’s an exaggeration," he says, clearly attempting to downplay the incident, but his voice betrays the tiniest hint of guilt.

Luke shoots you a sly look, his eyes dancing with amusement as he leans in, like he’s about to let you in on a secret. “The microwave was smoking,” he adds, his voice dropping low, the tone almost playful—like he’s about to drop some juicy gossip.

Your jaw drops in disbelief. "Oh my God."

Luke, clearly pleased with the chaos he’s caused, gestures at Jack with the spatula like he’s just won some kind of victory. "See? This is why I learned how to cook."

Jack grins wide, unbothered. "And I get to reap the benefits, so really, we both win," he says with a cheeky shrug, as if his utter lack of skill somehow balances out Luke’s culinary expertise.

You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. "I don’t know how you put up with him."

Luke smirks,"It’s a daily struggle," he says, voice deadpan, but the small curve of his lips gives away the amusement he’s trying to hide.

Jack grins, shaking his head slightly. “Oh, the betrayal. I’m crushed,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm, though the smirk gives him away.

Luke just rolls his eyes and slides the finished omelet onto a plate before setting it down in front of you.

You look down at it, genuinely impressed by how perfect it looks. Then, you glance back at Luke, a little taken aback. "Not gonna lie… this looks really good."

Luke’s grin widens, his eyes briefly locking with yours, the kind of connection that makes the moment feel charged. "Told you."

You pick up your fork, still a little skeptical, and take a bite. Holy hell.

Your eyes go wide in surprise. "Oh my God. This is actually amazing."

Jack leans in, looking smug...again. "See? I wasn’t lying." He gives you a little wink, clearly basking in the moment like he’s somehow been proven right.

Luke smirks, pleased by the compliment. “I take my breakfast very seriously.”

“Clearly. This might be the best decision I’ve made today.” You shake your head, chewing.

Jack gasps dramatically. “Wow. So staying was a better decision than leaving?”

You pause, realizing what you just admitted.

Jack grins like he’s just scored a win, and for a second, you seriously consider wiping that smug look off his face.

Luke’s smile, however, is filled with pure happiness, as if this moment is exactly what he’s been waiting for.

You sigh, stabbing your omelet. “I’m never gonna live this down, am I?”

Jack beams. “Absolutely not.”

Luke leans closer, his voice suddenly lower, more intimate. “I mean, I’m glad you stayed. It’s not every day I get a pretty girl in my kitchen, making my morning way more interesting.”

You freeze, fork halfway to your mouth. His words hang in the air, electric.

“Oh, so now I’m ‘pretty,’ huh?” you tease, trying to maintain your composure, though your heart skips a beat.

Luke raises an eyebrow, a slow, confident smile curling on his lips. “Oh, I thought that was obvious.” His gaze flickers down to your lips, his voice dropping even lower. “You’ve been keeping me on my toes since I woke up.”

Your cheeks warm, but you force yourself to look away, focusing on your omelet. “Flattery won’t make me forget about you being 21.”

Luke’s grin widens, and he leans in a little closer, lowering his voice just enough that only you can hear. “Maybe not. But I think it’s a pretty good start.”

Jack, completely oblivious to the flirtation unfolding right under his nose, leans back on the kitchen island with a self-satisfied grin. “God, I can’t believe I’m witnessing this. I thought I was supposed to be the one who charmed the ladies.”

Luke snorts, rolling his eyes at his brother but keeping his focus on you. “Jack’s the type to talk about it. I’m the type to show it.”

Your breath catches in your throat. That was smooth. Really smooth.

You take another bite of your omelet, trying to hide the smile spreading across your face. “You sure you don’t just want me to stay for the food?”

Luke leans back, his gaze softening as he gently takes your left hand in his, his thumb slowly tracing circles over your knuckles. “I mean… if that’s your only reason for sticking around, I won’t complain,” he murmurs, a playful yet tender smile curving his lips. “But I like to think I’ve got more to offer than just my cooking skills.”

His words, along with the warmth in his eyes, wash over you like a wave, pulling you in deeper. You lock eyes with him, your breath catching as your pulse quickens. There’s something in the way he’s looking at you, something that makes it impossible to think straight.

Then Jack clears his throat loudly, and you break the spell, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Alright, alright,” Jack says, clearly enjoying the discomfort he’s just caused. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone so you can finish your breakfast in peace. No need to make me a third wheel.”

You roll your eyes, but Luke doesn’t seem to mind. He just shrugs, unfazed.

“Good idea. Go entertain yourself, Jack.”

Jack winks. “Don’t mind if I do.” He stands up and heads for the door, adding, “You two just make sure to keep it PG—some of us don’t need to see that much chemistry before our coffee kicks in.”

You watch as Jack exits, still grinning like the mischievous brat he is.

As the door clicks behind Jack, the quiet of the kitchen settles in, leaving just you and Luke alone, the lingering tension between you two impossible to ignore. Luke shifts, his hands still resting on your hands as he pulls you gently into his lap. Your heart beats a little faster at the sudden closeness, but you refuse to let the thrill of it distract you from the conversation you know needs to happen.

You take a deep breath, looking up into his eyes—eyes that are soft but hold that familiar spark of mischief, the kind that makes it hard to think straight. He tilts his head slightly, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he runs his thumb over your hand, tracing slow circles. The warmth of his touch makes your breath hitch, but you bite your lip, determined to have this talk.

“Luke,” you start, your voice softer than you intended, “We need to talk about last night. About... us.”

Luke's expression changes, the playful gleam fading into something more intense. He doesn’t pull away, though. Instead, he tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you just a little closer, and his voice drops an octave. “I thought we were past talking. I thought we were just... enjoying each other.”

His words make your pulse quicken, but you hold firm. You need to address this.

“I’m serious,” you say, your voice steady, though your chest betrays you with its nervous flutter. “I need to know where this is going, Luke. You’re 21, I’m 27. That’s a six-year difference. I’ve been through more in my life. I want a family soon. I want stability. Not... something fleeting.”

Luke’s gaze darkens, and his thumb continues its slow, soothing motion over your skin, but there’s a new intensity in his eyes. He’s quiet for a moment, absorbing your words. The air feels thick with unspoken thoughts, the weight of what you’ve just said hanging between you.

“You think I don’t want the same things?” he asks, his voice steady but with a sharp edge, not defensive—more... thoughtful. “I’m not some kid just looking for a fling. I’ve thought this through. I’m looking for something real. I’ve spent too much time in meaningless situations to want that anymore. I went to our date because I was looking for something serious. And my friend told me you’d be looking for the same thing.”

He lets your words settle, his eyes never leaving yours. “After spending the night talking with you, I felt like I wasn’t just talking to someone who’s interesting—I felt like I was talking to someone who gets it. Someone who’s looking for the same kind of connection. I’m not here for something that’ll fizzle out in a few weeks. I’m here because... I think you might be the person I’ve been waiting for.”

His words hit you in a way you weren’t prepared for. You’re caught off guard, unsure how to respond, but something stirs inside you. Something warm, something you didn’t expect. You can feel the truth of what he’s saying in your chest, and for the first time, you start to question the assumptions you’d made.

“Yeah, but you’re still figuring things out,” you say, your voice shaky now, a trace of worry creeping in. “You’re just starting out in life. Maybe you don’t want the same kind of commitment I do. I need someone who’s already ready to settle down.”

Luke doesn’t hesitate. His fingers slide up to your jaw, his touch firm but tender, like he’s grounding you to the moment. His gaze holds yours, no longer playful, but filled with something deeper. Something real.

“I’m ready for that,” he murmurs, his voice soft but full of conviction. “I know what I want. And I want you. If you’re worried about my age, let me show you I’m more than just a number.”

His words are almost a whisper, but there’s a quiet confidence in them that sends a thrill through you. His lips are so close now, you can feel his breath on your skin as he leans in, his forehead resting against yours. “I’m not asking for a lifetime yet, but I’m asking for the chance to prove myself. To prove that I’m capable of giving you the kind of future you want.”

You close your eyes, your breath catching in your throat. He’s not backing down, and the sincerity in his words leaves you no room to doubt him. But still, you can’t help but voice the doubts that swirl in your mind.

“I don’t want to get hurt, Luke,” you whisper, finally letting yourself admit the fear you’ve been pushing down. “I’ve been through enough heartache. And if you don’t want the same things I do, if you’re not ready for it... I don’t know if I can take that risk.”

Luke leans in just a little more, his lips brushing against your cheek before he pulls back slightly, his hands cradling your face. He’s close enough that you can feel the warmth of his skin, the steadiness of his gaze. “I’m ready for you. Ready for everything that comes with it,” he says, his voice resolute. “I wouldn’t be here, sitting with you like this, if I wasn’t.”

You search his eyes for any sign of hesitation, but there’s none. What you see instead is determination—an unspoken promise that, for all his age, he knows what he wants and is willing to fight for it.

The air between you two shifts, the quiet between you no longer heavy with doubt, but filled with something new. Something that makes your pulse race.

“Okay,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “Then show me.”

At that, his lips crash against yours, the kiss deep and slow, filled with all the unspoken things you’ve both been dancing around. His hands slide to your back, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens. Your hands find their way to his curls, tugging him in as if you can’t get close enough. The world around you fades away—there’s only the feeling of his mouth against yours, the pressure of his body against yours, the shared certainty that whatever this is, it’s more than just physical.

When you finally pull away, both breathless, Luke grins, his forehead resting against yours.

Luke leans back a little bit, his eyes gleaming with that mischievous glint as he watches you, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You know," he says casually, his voice thick with satisfaction, "I have to admit... I’ve never had a night quite like that. You really know how to use that beautiful mouth of yours."

You glance over at him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? What do you mean?"

Luke shifts a little closer, his grin widening. "Well, I’ve had my fair share of nights, but... last night? You...You were next level. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting to be that blown away."

You feel your cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and flattery. "Really? Well, I kinda feel the same. I’ve never... finished two times in one night."

Luke’s eyes narrow in surprise. "What?! Baby, that wasn’t even that much. I think we can go for four or five next time." He winks, his tone playful, but there's a hint of challenge in his voice.

You laugh, trying to hide the blush creeping up your neck. "Is that so? You really think you can keep up?"

Luke smirks, leaning in just a little closer, his voice low and confident. "Oh, I’m definitely up for the challenge. You just wait."

You raise an eyebrow, a teasing smile forming on your lips. "Maybe this whole 'young boyfriend' thing isn’t such a bad idea after all... Good stamina and all that."

Luke grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Told ya!" He leans in, planting a series of quick, soft kisses across your face and neck, each one sending a delightful shiver through your skin. You can't help but laugh at his actions, brushing your nose against his cheek as your giggles mix with his gentle kisses.

Just as you're starting to recover from his playful assault, a voice slices through the moment like an ice-cold splash of water.

"Can you drop the sex talk, guys?" Jack's voice rings out from the kitchen doorway, dripping with disgust but clearly amused by the whole situation. "I didn’t need to know this much about my little brother."

You freeze, eyes wide, before you turn to Luke, who looks utterly unfazed, that smug, victorious grin plastered across his face. It’s as if he’s just won some kind of prize, and he's wearing it like a badge of honor.

Embarrassment creeps up your neck, but before you can even process the awkwardness, you find yourself laughing. The tension dissolves in the shared amusement of the moment. Luke just shrugs casually, looking way too pleased with himself.

"Relax, Jack. It’s called maturity," you reply with a wink, and Luke chuckles, pressing another kiss to your cheek.

Jack groans dramatically, rolling his eyes. "You two are gross. And seriously, for the future, we need some rules. These walls are way too thin. I do not need to hear you two in action. Thank God I wasn’t home yesterday."

You let out a horrified gasp, hiding your face in Luke’s neck. "Jesus, Jack," you mumble, half laughing, half mortified.

Luke just keeps laughing, clearly entertained by the situation. "You heard nothing. Just a couple of adults figuring things out," he teases.

Jack mutters something under his breath before calling out with a playful, exaggerated gag. "God, I need to vomit. You two are so disgusting."

"Guess this means you're sticking around, huh?" Luke whispers against your mouth, his voice low and warm, sending another wave of heat through you.

You nod, content, leaning into him with a soft smile. "Guess so," you murmur, brushing your lips against his in return.

Jack, clearly fed up with the display, huffs dramatically and walks away with an exaggerated sigh. "You two are the worst."

As he exits, you look up at Luke, feeling that warmth in your chest—the comfort, the excitement, all mixed together. You can get used to mornings like this, even if it means dealing with Jack’s teasing. Or, you think with a smirk, maybe you’ll just strangle him in his sleep. Problem solved.

Luke catches the glint in your eye and chuckles, clearly knowing exactly what you’re thinking.

“Careful,” he says with a playful smirk, “I’d hate to lose my new favourite person just because you can’t handle my brother.”

You laugh, pulling him in for one last kiss.

#luke hughes x oc #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x you #luke hughes fic #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes #nhl fanfic #nhl fic #jack hughes fanfic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes

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nestofstraightlines · 11 hours ago

Text

I’ve always found Gaiman’s decisions and statements around GO rather tacky and sus, and it’s tempting to feel vindicated now it turns out he is in entirely unrelated ways a shit. But of course the emergence of separate crimes and abuses reveals nothing about this part of his life.

I’m just glad, if that’s the word, that Gaiman’s downfall removes him from his position as a handler of Pratchett’s legacy.

I really don’t like the Good Omens series but it was of course very popular. Probably the most popular adaptation of a book Gaiman (co)authored in recent years, and the adaptation he was most actively involved in. Given that Prime would surely be clamouring for a follow-up of sone kind to capitalise on the audience , and given so much of Gaiman’s own work has already been adapted for screen I had a vision of Gaiman moving on to overseeing adaptations of Pratchett’s own books for screen - and all in the vein of Good Omens. Agh.

On the whole mine is no more noble an objection than personal taste. But I will say my problems with the GO series were at base founded in the profound lack of understanding or respect the show paid to Pratchett’s craft, the craft he employed to make the book what it is as the clear senior creative voice in the books creation - that is, comedy as a storytelling form and art form.

No comedy personnel were employed in any key roles in the original series. Gaiman isn’t a comedy writer, Doug McKinnon has no experience in comedy directing, and the editors were likewise only versed in straight drama. I should give the production credit for course-correcting for the second series to some extent by bringing in John Finnemore as co-writer.

But for all Gaiman’s talk of honouring Pratchett with the adaptation, it doesn’t feel like this respect amounted to much when the adaptation treated as utterly disposable to working with the text the art form and skill set that Pratchett used to write it.

On the whole I don’t ascribe this to hubris or cynicism on Gaiman’s part, more him just not being very intelligent or skilled in the kind of storytelling forms we’re talking about here. I would say Gaiman is incredible in terms of his Sandman work and is elsewhere most successful where he works in a similar form to that - short story-ish neo-folk-tale stuff. He’s honestly just not in a similar league to Pratchett as a novelist. So I don’t quite blame him for not really having a basic recognition of what Pratchett is doing.

But the upshot is an adaptation that fundamentally disregards the author that Gaiman claimed to want to honour, and I’m relieved - supposing I ever had anything to worry about on this front, which pure conjecture on my part - that we are now at least guaranteed not to see any more Pratchett adaptation overseen by a man who hasn’t got a basic respect for - because he so totally lacks an understanding of - comedy storytelling.

There was an interesting thread on Bluesky dissecting Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett's relationship

TL:DR - It seems like Gaiman has been exaggerating the level of closeness between them for YEARS

#good omens #neil gaiman #terry pratchett

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moonlitstoriess · 16 hours ago

Text

Unseen, Unheard, Unloved- Initial Rhysand, Eventual Kallias x fem!Reader (2/2)

Summary: She had given him everything—her heart, her trust, and now, the child growing within her. But as Rhysand’s attention drifts elsewhere, as excuses pile up, and as whispers of a mortal girl turn into something far more dangerous, she begins to wonder: Was she ever truly seen? Was she ever truly heard? Or had she been unloved all along?

See masterlist

Part 1

Warnings: none I think

Azriel winnowed them inside the grand entrance hall of the Winter Court’s palace, and the instant her boots touched the icy marble, Y/n felt the air shift. Cold, crisp, and biting—but not in an unwelcoming way. No, it was different from Velaris’ warmth, different from the suffocating tension that had clung to her like a second skin. This was clean. It was fresh. It smelled of snow and pine, of something untouched and unburdened by the weight she had been carrying for weeks.

But her body was still heavy. Exhaustion curled in her bones, her limbs aching from both the winnowing and everything leading up to it.

Azriel set her bag down beside her, his movements careful, precise—as if handling something fragile. Which, she supposed, she was. But she wouldn’t break. She couldn’t break. Not anymore.

Before she could even take in more of her surroundings, a familiar, cool voice broke through the silence.

"Welcome to Winter, Y/n."

Kallias stood a few feet away, dressed in pristine white and silver, his platinum hair gleaming under the grand chandelier’s light. His sharp, glacial blue eyes softened as he took her in, as he noted the weary set of her shoulders, the way she clutched the front of her coat as if holding herself together.

Y/n tried to muster a smile, something resembling a greeting, but all she managed was a tired nod. “Kallias.”

The High Lord of Winter stepped closer, his gaze scanning her as if committing her presence to memory. “You must be exhausted.” It wasn’t a question.

Before she could answer, Azriel’s voice cut through, softer this time. “I’ll be checking up on you.”

She turned to him, the words lingering in the air between them. It wasn’t a warning, wasn’t a demand. Just a quiet promise. She swallowed hard, a lump forming in her throat. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling—gratitude, maybe, or guilt, or just a strange sadness that this moment, this transition, was real.

Still, she nodded. Then, before she could think too hard about it, she took a small step forward and wrapped her arms around Azriel, pressing her forehead against his shoulder.

Azriel stilled for half a second, then exhaled quietly, his own arms tightening around her in a silent promise.

"Bye, Az."

Her voice was barely a whisper, but it made his grip on her tighten. “Take care of yourself, little ghost.”

She let out a quiet breath. He hadn’t called her that in a long time.

He pulled away first, his hazel eyes flickering to Kallias.

A silent conversation passed between them. One that Y/n wasn’t fully privy to but felt in the tense set of Azriel’s jaw, in the unreadable shift in Kallias’ expression. It was an understanding. A warning. A promise.

Then, Kallias broke the silence, his voice cool but edged with something pointed.

“As long as she is with me, she will always be cared for.”

It wasn’t a simple reassurance. It was a statement. A reminder. And perhaps, a veiled jab at the one who had failed her.

Azriel’s lips pressed into a thin line. But he only nodded, only gave Y/n one last lingering glance before he winnowed away, the shadows swallowing him whole.

And just like that, it was real.

She was here.

Truly, fully here.

Silence stretched between her and Kallias before he exhaled softly. “Are you hungry?”

Y/n hesitated. “I—”

His gaze sharpened slightly, sweeping over her frame. His lips pressed into a frown. “Have they not been feeding you properly there?”

She blinked, startled by the question.

And before she could think of a response, he added, “I can see your collarbones.”

It was true. The months of stress, of sleepless nights and overthinking, had left their mark on her body. She had eaten, of course—but only enough to function. Only enough to get through the days.

But she couldn’t say that.

So she just shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

Kallias’ frown deepened. And then, to her surprise, he reached out, placing a warm, steadying hand on her shoulder. Not forceful, not imposing—just a firm, grounding presence.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’re pregnant. Carrying another life, giving your energy to them. Of course, you being well-fed is of the utmost importance.”

She opened her mouth, but he was already picking up her bag. “Come,” he said smoothly. “Let me show you to your rooms personally.”

She blinked. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” There was no room for argument.

So she followed.

The halls of the Winter Palace were as grand as she remembered—tall ceilings, intricate carvings of wolves and swirling ice patterns adorning the archways. Everything gleamed in shades of silver, white, and blue, but it wasn’t an unfeeling cold. There was warmth woven into the design, into the soft glow of faelights lining the corridors, into the thick, plush rugs muffling their footsteps.

“You’ve made a few changes since I was last here,” she noted, her voice quiet but steady.

Kallias glanced at her. “Somewhat.”

"Somewhat?" she echoed, raising a brow. "There's an entire new wing on the east side."

His lips twitched slightly. "You noticed."

"I notice everything."

Kallias hummed. “It was necessary. We needed more space.”

Y/n huffed a quiet laugh. "For what? Ice sculptures?"

Kallias chuckled, the sound low, but real. “For expansion. Winter has been growing stronger these past few years.”

Something in the way he said it made her glance at him. “Stronger how?”

He slid a look her way, something amused but serious in his expression. “We’ve been securing better alliances. Strengthening our borders.”

Y/n tilted her head slightly. “So, politics.”

“Politics,” he agreed. Then, after a pause, “Which you’ve never had much patience for.”

She scoffed. "No, I just never had patience for stupidity in politics."

Kallias smirked. “Fair enough.”

A comfortable silence settled between them.

And then, more gently, he added, “You never answered my question.”

She frowned. “Which one?”

“If they were feeding you properly.”

Y/n exhaled, already tired of this conversation. “I ate.”

“That’s not an answer.”

She looked away. “It’s the only one I’m giving.”

A quiet beat.

Then Kallias murmured, “You don’t have to pretend with me, you know.”

Her breath caught for a moment.

She didn’t respond.

Instead, she focused on the hallway ahead—on the set of ornate doors that Kallias pushed open, revealing her chambers.

The room was beautiful—bathed in soft hues of silver and white, with a fireplace already crackling in the corner. The bed was large, draped in plush blankets that looked like they had been crafted from the softest furs. A seating area was arranged near the balcony doors, the windows opening up to a breathtaking view of the snowy mountains in the distance.

Y/n exhaled, the tension in her chest loosening just a fraction.

Kallias set her bag down by the bed. “If there’s anything else you need, you only have to ask.”

She turned to him. “This is… more than enough. Thank you, Kallias.”

He held her gaze for a long moment. Then, finally, he gave her a small nod. “I’ll send some servants to help you get settled in and bring you food.”

She wanted to argue, to say she could handle it on her own. But the truth was—she didn’t want to. She was tired. So, instead, she just nodded.

Kallias lingered for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then, finally, he turned toward the door.

“Rest, Y/n.” His voice was softer now, quieter. “You are safe here.”

And then, with a final glance, he left.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, she let out a breath that didn’t feel like it was suffocating her.

The first thing Y/n did after Kallias left was sit on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing. The exhaustion in her bones was unbearable, but her mind wouldn’t let her rest. The quiet of Winter was so different from Velaris, from the ever-present hum of the city, the laughter of people she had once called family. Here, there was only silence, save for the distant howl of the wind outside her window.

The room was warm, but she still felt cold.

She had barely unpacked when the servants arrived, bringing trays of food—warm soup, roasted meats, fresh bread. Everything smelled rich and comforting, but the moment she sat at the small table and lifted a spoonful of soup to her lips, she set it back down. Her stomach twisted at the thought of eating.

The exhaustion finally won over the overthinking. She stripped out of her clothes, slipped into a nightgown the Winter servants had left for her, and slid under the thick blankets. The mattress was plush, the warmth inviting. Still, it took her a long time to sleep.

When she did, her dreams were filled with shadows and echoes of the past.

The soft sound of footsteps stirred Y/n awake. At first, she barely registered it, the warmth of the blankets anchoring her to the bed, her body still sluggish with exhaustion.

Then came a gentle knock at the door, followed by the quiet creak of it opening.

"Lady Y/n?"

Y/n forced her eyes open, the dim morning light filtering through the frosted windows. A young female stood at the threshold, her hands folded neatly in front of her, eyes bright but cautious.

"I apologize for waking you," the maid said, stepping further into the room. "But I was sent to assist you in getting ready for the day."

Y/n blinked, mind still sluggish from sleep. "Getting ready…?"

The maid offered a small, polite smile. "High Lord Kallias has requested to see you. He wishes to personally show you the palace grounds."

That woke her up.

Y/n sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. "Me?" she asked, voice raspy from sleep.

"Yes, my lady."

Y/n stared at the maid, confused. Kallias wanted to show her around? Personally?

Her first instinct was to decline. To stay buried in the warmth of the bed, to avoid whatever this new world was trying to offer her. But then she remembered Azriel’s quiet words before he left.

"Take care of yourself, little ghost."

The thought of him was enough to make her sigh, her reluctance softening just slightly.

"Alright," she murmured.

The maid nodded, moving to help her out of bed. Y/n accepted the assistance, stretching her limbs carefully before allowing the female to guide her toward the dressing screen.

"The High Lord wanted you to be comfortable, so he had clothes prepared for you," the maid said as she unwrapped a fresh set of winter garments.

Y/n hesitated before reaching out to feel the fabric. It was soft, warmer than anything she’d ever worn before, and lined with fur along the collar and sleeves.

"It’s beautiful," she admitted quietly.

"Everything in Winter is made to withstand the cold," the maid explained as she assisted Y/n into the outfit. "And with your condition, the High Lord was adamant that you have only the warmest materials available."

Her condition.

Y/n looked down at her stomach, her hands instinctively brushing over the swell of it. She had almost forgotten—almost.

A child. Rhysand’s child.

Her throat tightened.

"Do you need anything before we leave?" the maid asked gently, sensing the shift in her mood.

Y/n forced herself to breathe, to push those thoughts away. "No," she said, lifting her chin slightly. "I’m ready."

The maid studied her for a moment before nodding and leading her toward the door.

As they stepped into the hall, Y/n found herself exhaling slowly, steadying herself. She could do this. She would do this.

She was nervous, but there was something thrilling about wearing these colors—Kallias's colors. Winter’s colors. She had heard the whispers about how striking she looked in the ensemble, but it was Kallias's reaction that she had been anticipating the most.

As she rounded the corner into the main corridor, her heart fluttered at the sight of Kallias standing by one of the grand arches, his eyes immediately falling on her. He was speaking to a servant, but the moment his gaze landed on her, everything else seemed to fall away.

His lips parted, his jaw tightening for a split second before his eyes widened in clear awe. His posture straightened, and he seemed to forget the conversation altogether as he stepped forward.

Y/n felt her breath catch in her throat, suddenly self-conscious. His gaze was intense, as though he could see straight through the fabric to the very essence of her.

“You look…�� Kallias's voice faltered slightly, his words tripping over themselves as he stared at her, clearly taken aback. “You look... breathtaking, Y/n.”

A warmth spread through her chest at the sincerity in his voice. She felt herself flush, the heat in her cheeks rising despite the chill of the palace around them.

“I... thank you,” she murmured, suddenly unsure of what to say. She wanted to dismiss his comment, but his reaction made her heart flutter in a way she wasn’t quite prepared for. His gaze was soft but filled with admiration, and it made her feel special, cherished even.

“I’ve seen many dressed in Winter’s colors,” Kallias continued, still a little breathless. “But none wear them like you.”

Y/n smiled at that, feeling a strange giddiness inside her. “I... I’m not sure I’m used to it,” she said, her voice almost shy as she glanced down at the dress.

He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "You wear them with such grace, as though Winter was made for you."

She could feel the heat of his gaze, the weight of his words settling over her like a comforting blanket. It was impossible not to feel seen, truly seen, in that moment.

Before she could respond, Kallias quickly cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "Shall we? The palace grounds await."

They stepped outside, and the cool air of Winter immediately wrapped around them. Snowflakes drifted lazily through the sky, their icy touch brushing against Y/n’s cheeks as she walked alongside Kallias. He led her through the sweeping courtyard, the grandeur of the palace laid out before them like a kingdom untouched by time. The air felt still, the only sound being the crunch of their boots in the snow.

"I’m glad to see you settling in," Kallias said, his voice warm but with a subtle edge of concern. "Winter is... different, I know. But I’m glad you chose it as your place of peace."

Y/n glanced at him, her thoughts swirling. “I needed something... quiet. Somewhere to breathe,” she said, her tone soft.

“You’ve come far,” he observed, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "But—" He hesitated, clearly unsure how to continue. "But why Winter? Why not the Night Court?"

Her stomach flipped at the mention of Rhysand, and she quickly deflected. “I think I just needed the distance,” she said, her voice a little sharper than she intended. “Rhysand has a lot on his plate, and I didn’t want to add to that.”

Kallias didn’t press her immediately, but his sharp eyes seemed to catch every tiny change in her expression, every flicker of discomfort. There was a brief silence, and then he changed the subject with a gentleness that surprised her.

“Well,” he said, his voice lighter now, “Winter may be cold, but it has its warmth in unexpected places. Take the ice gardens, for example.” He gestured toward the path ahead, where the glistening, frozen flowers seemed to sparkle like jewels in the sunlight. “The flowers are grown by our people, with care and patience. Something about them... they remind us of the resilience Winter offers.”

Y/n was entranced by the sight. The beauty of the ice flowers seemed to mirror her own thoughts—fragile, yet persistent. “They’re beautiful,” she said, her voice filled with wonder.

“They are,” Kallias agreed, his smile warming his face. “They remind me of my people. Of how, even in the harshest of winters, we find a way to thrive.”

They continued their walk, moving through the courtyard toward the training grounds. Y/n caught sight of some of Winter’s warriors practicing their skills, each of them moving with disciplined precision. There was a quiet power to them, a strength that seemed almost palpable.

“Winter warriors,” Kallias said, as if reading her thoughts. “They are the heart of our court. They defend these lands with their lives, and they do so without hesitation.”

Y/n watched them for a moment longer, her mind briefly wandering to what it would be like to be part of something so powerful. Her stomach tightened, but she quickly pushed the thought aside.

“They look... strong,” she commented, trying to distract herself.

“They are,” Kallias agreed with a hint of pride in his voice. He glanced at her, his gaze thoughtful. “I respect them deeply. They remind me that strength is not just physical—it's in how we weather the storms, how we carry on.”

As they continued, Kallias showed her more of Winter’s wonders: the grand library, where the ancient texts of Winter’s history were kept, and the quiet nursery, where young children played in the snow, their laughter ringing out like music to Y/n’s ears.

Seeing the children, Y/n’s chest tightened. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to watch her own child—her soon-to-be faeling—play and grow in a world that was, despite its trials, filled with warmth. The thought of their laughter, the innocence of childhood, made her heart swell. But just as quickly, that warmth faltered, a sharp pang of uncertainty twisting in her gut. She thought of the father, and the disappointment that would soon greet their child. The weight of that truth settled heavily in her chest, the lightness of the moment slipping away.

She let out a soft breath, unsure whether she should voice the thoughts swirling in her mind. But Kallias was beside her, his presence reassuring as always.

He caught her gaze and offered a small, knowing smile. "You'll find your peace here, Y/n. You’re not invisible to us. You never will be."

His words struck a chord deep within her, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to believe it.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she entered the breakfast room. The space was like something out of a dream—a vision of comfort and warmth amidst the icy landscape. The walls were adorned with intricate ice carvings that seemed to shimmer in the pale light streaming through the large, open windows. The soft, crystalline glow of the snow outside reflected against the glass, casting a cool, blue light throughout the room. Fresh, crisp air drifted in through the open panes, filling the room with the scent of winter—clean, pure, and invigorating.

The centerpiece of the room was an exquisite ice glass table, its surface smooth and glistening. It was shaped in a perfect circle, almost like the moon itself, and it sat near the grand window, offering a panoramic view of the Winter Court's sprawling grounds. Snow-covered trees stretched as far as the eye could see, and the distant mountains were crowned with frost, standing tall and proud in the winter sky. The soft crunch of snow underfoot could be heard in the distance, accompanied by the occasional call of a bird soaring through the crisp morning air.

Kallias stood by the table, his tall figure framed by the sunlight streaming through the windows. The warmth of the room was a stark contrast to the coldness of the landscape outside, but it felt so comforting. It was a sanctuary.

Y/n stepped in, eyes wide as she took in the serene beauty of the room. She was still adjusting to being here, still unsure of what to expect. But the peaceful atmosphere seemed to ease her troubled thoughts, if only slightly.

She hesitated for a moment, glancing at Kallias, who had already moved toward the table, preparing to sit down. He looked back at her, his brow slightly raised, as though expecting her to join him.

“Wait… You’re having breakfast with me too?” Y/n asked, her voice betraying a slight edge of surprise.

Kallias paused, a faint expression of confusion crossing his face. “Yes. Why wouldn't I?”

She shrugged slightly, not wanting to delve too much into the strange discomfort she felt about it. "Shouldn’t you have some more important High Lord things to do? I mean... shouldn't you be dealing with other matters? Running a whole court?"

Kallias didn't miss a beat, his smile warm but firm as he cut her off. “My priority is making sure you’re well. You’re pregnant, alone in a new place, and probably in need of some company. Why wouldn't I stay and keep you company?" He gave a small, almost amused chuckle, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, as if the idea of leaving her alone was incomprehensible to him. "I would think this is the least I can do for you.”

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat. She was surprised by how matter-of-fact Kallias was about it—how easily he dismissed her discomfort with something so genuine. She didn’t have an answer for him, but she did feel a pang of something in her chest, something warm that slowly began to ease her wariness.

Before she could say anything further, he spoke again, his voice quieter, softer. “You’ve been through a lot, Y/n. And yes, Rhys isn't here. You may feel lonely, I can imagine. But I won’t leave you alone unless you ask me to.”

The mention of Rhys made something tighten in her chest. Her throat constricted as her mind flashed back to the months before—how his absence had felt like a cold void in her life. His distance, the fact that he had retreated into his "duties" and left her with little more than empty promises.

Kallias was right. She had been lonely, even before coming here. But she couldn’t—no, she shouldn’t—talk about that now. So instead, she just shrugged again, her voice faltering as she spoke, though she didn’t realize it. “Well, no... not really,” she mumbled, her gaze dropping to the floor, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. “He used to... he used to have breakfast with me every morning. But, since my pregnancy... he’s had more important things to do.”

Kallias froze, his hand still hovering near the back of the chair, and for the briefest of moments, his eyes darkened. His expression shifted from curiosity to something harder to define. But it was gone as quickly as it came, and he masked it with a soft, reassuring smile. “More important things...” he repeated, his voice filled with an edge of something she couldn’t quite place.

He stepped forward, placing his hand gently on her shoulder, guiding her toward the table. “Y/n,” he said, his voice low and protective, “you are never an afterthought here. Not by me. You are never a burden or an inconvenience.” His eyes met hers, sincerity written in every word, every glance. “You are a priority. And so is your child.”

Y/n’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest at his words. She had never heard them from Rhys, not since the pregnancy began. She had heard about his ‘important work’ and his ‘obligations.’ She had heard about everything else except her.

Now she knew why.

Kallias pulled out the chair for her, and for a moment, she stood there, uncertain, before taking a seat. The table before her seemed so foreign, but oddly inviting—something about the simplicity of it soothed her in a way she couldn’t explain.

He pushed her chair in gently and moved around to the opposite side, where he seated himself as well. The silence between them felt comfortable, not awkward, and Y/n found herself leaning into it, a small part of her grateful for Kallias' presence.

That little breakfast marked the beginning of a new chapter in Y/n’s life. Her time in the Winter Court, now almost a week into her stay, had transformed from uncertainty to something more comfortable, more familiar. Kallias had seen to it that she was well taken care of. The warmth of the palace, the crisp air outside, and the peaceful surroundings made the months of her pregnancy bearable. Each day felt like a healing step, both physically and emotionally.

Her bump, now at eight months, had grown rounder, more pronounced. It was impossible to ignore, and though it felt heavy at times, there was also a sense of pride that came with carrying this new life inside of her. She was doing this. Alone, yes, but she was doing it. She could handle it. Or at least, she told herself that every morning as she slipped out of bed and prepared for the day.

Kallias had been a constant presence, always checking in on her, offering kind words, and inviting her to walks around the palace grounds. He was thoughtful in a way that made her feel safe, yet distant enough to allow her space when she needed it. He treated her with respect, never prying too much, but always there with a comforting smile when she needed it most.

But beneath the surface of this peaceful life, the nightmares never stopped. They came in waves, uninvited and unwelcome, twisting her mind with their brutality.

Rhysand’s betrayal still haunted her, even here, in this foreign place. There were moments when she would find herself dissociating, her gaze unfocused as her thoughts spiraled. It wasn’t just the constant ache of her loss, but the sudden, unbearable images that would flash before her eyes. Images of that night. Of Rhysand and Feyre in her bedroom, kissing, their bodies pressed together in a way that left no room for doubt. The dream replayed itself in her mind constantly, a sickening reminder of everything that had been ripped away from her.

She would blink, and the memory would vanish as quickly as it appeared, leaving her breathless, her chest tight. She couldn’t escape it. And yet, despite her aching heart, she pretended she was fine. She told herself that she was healing, moving on. Each day with Kallias felt like another layer of protection, a cocoon she’d built around herself to shield her from the past. But deep down, she knew she wasn’t truly healing. She was only pretending, masking the pain.

And Kallias knew. He saw through the facades, though he never asked about the cracks in her armor. His presence was gentle but insistent, like a steady hand on her back, urging her to heal in her own time.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t see the wounds.

One night, two weeks into her stay in Winter, she woke again to a nightmare.

The dream began like any other—a vision of Rhysand, of their time together, filled with love, tenderness, and hope. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, whispering promises of forever. She felt the warmth of his lips against hers, the love she had once known. It felt real. It felt like him. And for a moment, she allowed herself to believe in the dream—believe that maybe, just maybe, things could be the way they once were.

But then, as always, it turned. It warped.

His face twisted, his eyes cold. The warmth was gone. The love was gone.

“You’re not my mate, Y/n,” he spat, his voice cutting through her like a blade. “Feyre is. She always has been. So why don’t you just leave?”

Her heart shattered, her chest seizing with an unbearable ache as the words echoed in her mind. Why don’t you just leave?

She woke with a jolt, gasping for breath, drenched in sweat, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. The room was too dark, too quiet, and the only thing that kept her grounded was the soft sound of her own ragged breathing. Her hands trembled as she wiped away the sweat from her forehead, trying to calm her shaking body.

But then, she felt it.

Warm arms—strong, steady—slid around her, pulling her against a solid chest. She froze, her heart racing, a gasp escaping her lips.

“Shh, it’s alright,” a soothing voice whispered, low and calm. “You’re safe.”

Y/n blinked, her thoughts hazy as she tried to make sense of what was happening. It took a moment for the fog to clear, and when it did, she saw him—Kallias, sitting beside her on the bed, his chest bare and his hair mussed from sleep. His worried eyes studied her face, his hands gently brushing the sweat-soaked strands of hair from her forehead.

“What... what are you doing here?” she whispered, her voice shaking as she struggled to regain her bearings.

Kallias didn’t answer her immediately, only pulling her closer, his arms tightening around her as if he could absorb the pain she was feeling. His heart beat steadily beneath her ear, a rhythm that she clung to. She could feel the warmth of his skin against hers, but it wasn’t just physical warmth—there was an emotional depth there that made her want to melt into him.

“I felt your pain,” he murmured, his voice thick with concern. “I heard you calling out... shouting. You’re next to my room, and I couldn’t ignore it.”

Y/n blinked again, trying to process his words, the meaning of them, but her thoughts were foggy. He felt my pain?

But the thought quickly slipped away as she focused on the fact that he was here, now. Holding her. Her breath hitched as she whispered, “I... I’m sorry. What was I shouting? What happened?”

Kallias gave her a small, reassuring smile, though his eyes were still heavy with concern. “You were just shouting ‘no,’” he said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “That’s all.”

Y/n’s chest tightened, but relief flooded her. She hadn’t spoken about Rhys. He didn’t know.

But then, as quickly as the relief came, the memories of the nightmare returned. The cruel words Rhys had spoken—the betrayal, the rejection—tore through her heart again. Her breath caught, and her face crumpled as the tears started to fall. Uncontrollable, heart-wrenching sobs wracked her body as she clung to Kallias, burying her face in his chest.

He didn’t question her. Didn’t ask why she was crying, didn’t ask about Rhys. He just held her, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back as she cried. He held her like she was the most precious thing in the world, his strong arms never wavering.

Y/n’s chest shook with the intensity of her grief. It felt as though all the pain she had buried, all the hurt she had held inside, was finally being released. She wasn’t alone in this moment. Kallias was there, and he didn’t demand anything from her—he just was there.

She cried for what felt like hours, the weight of everything too much to carry. And when her sobs finally slowed, when the ache in her chest began to lessen, she pulled away slightly, her eyes red and puffy, her face blotchy.

Kallias’ gaze was soft, his worry still there, but now there was a quiet understanding in his eyes.

“You’re not alone,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “I’m here, Y/n. I’m here for you.”

And for the first time in months, she allowed herself to believe it. She allowed herself to believe in the comfort he offered, the tenderness, the care.

For now, it was enough.

And for the first time in a long time, Y/n didn’t feel invisible.

Snow drifted beyond the frost-lined windows of his study, the icy landscape of Winter Court bathed in a soft morning glow. The beauty of it should have brought him the usual sense of peace. Instead, Kallias found himself staring blankly at the papers in front of him, his mind elsewhere.

Or rather—on someone else.

Y/N.

He exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. It had been a week since she arrived. Two weeks of watching her, observing the way she carried herself—like someone who was trying too hard to appear whole. At first glance, she looked well enough, but Kallias had always been perceptive. And Y/N… she was anything but fine.

She had come to Winter alone. Pregnant and alone.

That fact alone unsettled him.

How could Rhysand allow his supposed mate—his pregnant wife—to travel to another court by herself? If it were his mate, his wife, he would never—never—have let her out of his sight, let alone across Prythian.

The first day she arrived, he had noticed it.

Beneath the heavy cloak, beneath the graceful way she moved, something had been… off. She looked uncared for. Not in the sense that she was unkempt, but in the way a male should care for his pregnant beloved—fussing over her, ensuring her comfort, making sure she felt loved.

Kallias had tried to push the thought away. Surely, there was an explanation. Rhysand wasn’t a fool—he had always been a male who protected what was his. Yet, Y/N was here, alone. No messages from Rhysand. No sign of him even worrying about her absence.

Kallias drummed his fingers against the polished wood of his desk.

There were things he wasn’t being told. He could feel it.

And last night had only confirmed his suspicions.

The memory of her nightmare was still fresh in his mind—the frantic pull in his chest that had woken him, the way he had found himself running to her door before he even realized what he was doing. Her shouts, her fear. He had felt it like a blade to the ribs.

And when he found her, drenched in sweat and tears, sobbing into his arms…

His jaw tightened.

It had taken everything in him not to stay. Not to hold her until morning, until he knew for certain she would be all right. But she wasn’t his. She had never been his.

If only she knew.

If only she had ever noticed him properly before.

Kallias let out a low, bitter chuckle, shaking his head at himself. Pathetic. After all these years, the feeling had never truly left, had it? Even when he was barely a young High Lord, he had felt it—that pull toward her, the way she lit up every room she entered. She had been his first quiet longing, his other half, even before he fully understood what it meant. But she had already belonged to someone else.

And now, here she was, in his court, in his home, carrying another male’s child.

Kallias clenched his jaw, shutting his eyes for a moment.

He would not make a fool of himself. He would not fail her. She had come here, had chosen his court for her solace. He would be the sanctuary she needed—nothing more.

“Dare I ask what’s making you scowl like that?”

Kallias opened his eyes to find Marek, his second-in-command, watching him with raised brows, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. The male stood across the desk, setting down a stack of reports.

“Nothing,” Kallias said coolly, straightening in his seat.

Marek gave a skeptical hum before sitting in the chair opposite him. “Right. Nothing. Which is why you’ve been glaring at your desk like it personally offended you.” He exhaled, leaning back. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the High Lady of Night, would it?”

Kallias stiffened slightly but kept his face impassive. “She is a guest in my court.”

“She is a pregnant guest in your court,” Marek corrected, studying him. “Alone. Without her partner. Which, frankly, is something I didn’t think I’d ever see.” He shook his head. “Strange, isn’t it? That the great Rhysand would let his beloved travel alone, stay alone—especially now.”

Kallias remained silent, his fingers curling slightly against the desk.

Marek wasn’t wrong.

“That surprises you too, doesn’t it?” Marek pressed, tilting his head.

Kallias exhaled through his nose, glancing out the window before finally speaking. “I won’t pretend to understand the affairs of another court,” he said carefully. “But yes. It is… unexpected.”

Marek studied him for a moment before his lips twitched. “You’ve been softer lately.”

Kallias turned back to him, brows furrowing. “Excuse me?”

Marek smirked, leaning his elbows on the desk. “Since she arrived, you’ve been… different. Softer.” His voice was laced with amusement.

Kallias scoffed. “You’re imagining things.”

“Oh, am I?” Marek drawled. “Because last I checked, you don’t usually look at guests like you’re ready to tear apart whatever put that sadness in their eyes.”

Kallias tensed but masked it with a blank stare. “You’ve had too much wine.”

Marek only chuckled. “Maybe. Or maybe I just see what you refuse to admit.”

Kallias gave him a pointed look. “Enough.”

Marek’s smirk widened, but he raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. Back to business.” He slid a set of documents across the desk. “The plans for the new army base. You wanted to review the latest designs.”

Kallias exhaled, pushing aside the weight in his chest. “Good. Let’s go over them.”

Marek didn’t say another word on the matter, but the knowing gleam in his eyes remained.

And even as Kallias turned his attention to the documents before him, a single truth echoed in his mind—one he was desperately trying to ignore.

He was getting too close to her.

And he didn’t know if he could stop.

It started during a healer’s visit.

The Winter Court had its own healers, and Kallias, in his quiet, careful way, had made sure that Y/N had regular check-ups. He never pushed too hard, never insisted she take the treatments, but the way he made sure things were taken care of spoke volumes.

Today, he was sitting by the large window of her quarters, papers scattered across the table in front of him, though his attention kept drifting toward her. She hadn’t been feeling her best recently—more tired than usual, more distant—but the sight of him nearby always seemed to soothe her.

The healer, a soft-spoken male named Hesperos, was gentle and methodical in his examination, pressing his warm hands to Y/N’s swollen belly, murmuring soothing words of a spell. The healing magic rippled through her, a cool, peaceful energy.

“The baby is strong. Healthy,” Hesperos said with a smile. Y/N exhaled in relief, her shoulders relaxing.

Kallias, however, didn’t smile. His focus remained unwavering, but something about the way he was sitting, so quietly intense, made Y/N feel as though he was seeing through her. She didn’t know why it felt that way.

She smiled at the healer, her voice soft. “Thank you, Hesperos. I feel much better after every visit.”

Hesperos gave a warm chuckle. “It’s our job to make sure you do, my lady.”

But then, his expression shifted. He blinked, his hands pausing over her stomach. Y/N’s gaze flicked between him and Kallias, her stomach tightening slightly at the sudden tension in the room.

“Is something wrong?” Y/N asked, her voice shaking just a little.

The healer seemed almost uncertain, glancing at her before looking toward Kallias. His gaze lowered, his hands falling back to his sides. “My lady… I need to ask… Have you been under any extreme stress lately? Or emotional strain?”

Y/N blinked, frowning. “Stress?” she echoed, forcing a laugh. “I mean, of course, I’ve been tired lately, but—”

“No, it’s not just the fatigue,” Hesperos interrupted gently. “This is something more than simple exhaustion. I’m detecting some… emotional strain.”

Y/N’s smile faltered, her mind racing. She quickly shook her head, a forced chuckle escaping her lips. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve been resting well here. I haven’t been stressed. Everything’s fine.”

But there was a strange, almost skeptical look on Hesperos’s face. He leaned a bit closer, studying her carefully, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “What I’m sensing, it’s the kind of strain we see in those who’ve endured emotional trauma. Perhaps…during or maybe even before the pregnancy?”

A weight settled over her chest. She felt the breath catch in her throat, the room feeling suddenly too small. She could feel Kallias’s eyes on her now, sharp, calculating.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t know how to respond.

The healer, sensing her discomfort, withdrew slightly, his expression sympathetic. “It’s nothing too serious. The baby’s fine. But I would advise you to take some more time to care for your emotional well-being. Take it easy, my lady. Rest, and avoid any unnecessary stress.”

“Of course, of course,” Y/N replied quickly, nodding. “I’ve been resting plenty. I’ll take care of myself.”

Kallias hadn’t said a word. He hadn’t moved either. He was just staring at her, his jaw clenched, his hands folded on the table, his expression unreadable.

Y/N felt her heart race.

She looked away, suddenly feeling the weight of his gaze. She forced herself to look calm, to smile. “Nothing, Kallias. It’s nothing.”

But he wasn’t convinced. His eyes narrowed slightly, though his voice remained calm. “You’re hiding something from me.”

She shifted uncomfortably. Was this it? Was this where it all ended?

“I’m not hiding anything,” she said quickly, her voice tight. “I’m just… I’ve been through a lot, that’s all. And I’m pregnant.” She shrugged. “It’s normal.”

But he was still staring at her. His lips pressed into a thin line, and his eyes flickered with some unreadable emotion.

Finally, he stood up from the chair. The motion was quick, almost as if he’d made a decision. His expression remained unreadable, but Y/N felt the tension in the air.

He walked toward the door without another word.

“Kallias?” Her voice barely broke the silence.

He paused at the door but didn’t turn around.

She didn’t know why, but she found herself standing, moving toward him. The instinct to reach out, to stop him, was stronger than the part of her that told her to stay still.

But before she could take another step, Kallias turned sharply, his voice cutting through the quiet. “I’ll be back in a moment.” And just like that, he left the room.

The door clicked shut, leaving her in a sea of confusion. Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of his sudden departure. Was he angry? Disappointed? Did he think she was lying?

Why was he upset?

Y/N stood frozen in place, her heart heavy.

“Why does it feel like he’s mad at me?” she whispered under her breath. “What did I do?”

Her chest tightened with the rush of emotions.

She moved toward the window, staring out at the stark beauty of the Winter landscape, but it wasn’t the frozen scenery that filled her mind. It was him—Kallias’s withdrawn look, his darkened expression, the quiet fury in his eyes.

But maybe he was disgusted by her. Maybe she was too much of a burden. He’d been kind, too kind, and now, with everything she’d been holding inside, she probably had let it slip. He probably didn’t want to be around someone like her.

Just the thought made her stomach turn. She couldn’t hold on to his kindness forever.

Her gaze fell to the door, but just before she could even begin to move towards it, she was stopped by the healer, his expression soft and calm.

“My lady,” he said gently, his eyes full of understanding, “please, you can’t be running around with a belly like that.” He gestured to the comfortable chair by the window, urging her to sit back down. “Rest for now.”

Y/N nodded silently, sinking into the chair with a sigh. She was exhausted. Mentally, emotionally… physically.

But even as she closed her eyes and tried to push away her thoughts of Kallias, her mind kept returning to him. His departure had felt like something more than just irritation.

Was he disgusted by me?

Did he hate me now?

I’ve pushed him too far.

She closed her eyes tight, unable to stop the tears that pricked at her eyelids.

He barely felt himself move as he stormed out of the room.

His mind was spinning, his pulse roaring in his ears like a blizzard. The healer’s words echoed over and over again in his head.

Extreme stress. Emotional strain. Trauma.

And then—before the pregnancy.

Kallias’ hands curled into fists as he raced down the halls of his palace, his heart slamming against his ribs. His thoughts were a whirlwind, pieces snapping together, his worst suspicions solidifying into a devastating truth.

She wasn’t just struggling because of the pregnancy.

She had been suffering long before she ever arrived in Winter.

Kallias knew. He knew.

A growl ripped from his throat as rage flooded his veins. His magic surged, ice crackling at his fingertips as he barely managed to contain the violent storm building within him.

He wouldn’t contain it.

Not this time.

Not when she had been suffering in silence, not when she had been left like this, abandoned and alone, with his child growing inside her while she silently broke apart.

The halls blurred around him as he winnowed in a snap of ice-cold wind, the world bending to his fury.

The wards around the townhouse shattered the moment Kallias appeared.

The sheer force of his arrival cracked the air like a thunderclap, shaking the very foundations of the house.

Rhysand’s inner circle was gathered in the sitting room, locked in a heated argument, voices overlapping in tension and frustration.

“I can’t believe you—” Mor was snarling at Rhys, her hands clenched at her sides.

“She deserved better than this, Rhys,” Azriel’s voice was colder than night, his wings flaring slightly as he stood rigidly beside Cassian.

Feyre’s voice was tight. “I didn’t—”

“She probably hates us too because of the shit you dragged us into,” Cassian interrupted, his expression dark with disbelief.

And then, in a blink, the argument halted.

Because Kallias was suddenly there.

The moment he appeared, a bitter chill flooded the room, ice creeping along the floor, frost curling at the windows.

Rhys barely had time to react before Kallias launched at him.

“You little bastard.”

The words were venom, spat through clenched teeth, right before Kallias swung.

The impact was sharp, a solid hit to Rhysand’s jaw that sent him stumbling back. Gasps erupted around them—someone shouted Kallias’ name—but he wasn’t done.

Rhys recovered quickly, eyes flashing pure fury, and retaliated, his power snapping through the air as he tackled Kallias.

Fists flew, the sound of their bodies colliding shaking the very walls of the townhouse. Furniture splintered, ice and darkness clashing violently as Kallias slammed Rhys into the floor, his hands around his throat.

“How dare you,” Kallias seethed, his grip tightening. “How fucking dare you.”

Rhys wrenched free, throwing Kallias off him with a burst of raw power. Kallias skidded across the room, but he was already back on his feet, already lunging again—

Cassian and Azriel intervened.

Cassian caught Kallias, hauling him back with an iron grip, barely keeping him restrained. Azriel stood between them, his expression unreadable but watchful, wings flared wide.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Cassian bellowed, struggling to hold Kallias back.

Kallias didn’t answer. His gaze was still locked on Rhys, both of them breathing heavily, murder in their eyes.

Until his gaze shifted.

Feyre.

She was kneeling beside Rhys, her fingers gently brushing over his jaw, her eyes wide, lips parted slightly in concern.

That was all Kallias needed to confirm everything.

His stomach twisted, something cold and ugly settling in his chest.

His muscles tensed, and he shoved Cassian off him.

“When you saved us all from Under the Mountain,” Kallias said, his voice deadly quiet, his cold blue eyes settling on Feyre, “when I gave you a part of my power… I never thought I would ever regret it.”

A muscle ticked in Rhys’ jaw.

Kallias took a slow step forward, gaze flicking back to him.

“But now, standing here, seeing this ugly, pathetic scene before me, I feel nothing but regret. And disgust.”

Silence.

Feyre’s breath hitched, but Kallias ignored it.

His glare returned to Rhys, who still held his furious, defensive stance, though something uneasy flickered across his face.

Kallias bared his teeth. “Do you even realize what you’ve done to her?” His voice was quieter now, but sharper than shattered ice.

Rhys didn’t answer.

Kallias took another step, his fury rising again.

“If you wanted to break things off, you should’ve done it before putting a child in her. Before making her worry, before leaving her to suffer alone.”

A thick, heavy silence.

Everyone was watching.

Even Amren’s expression was unreadable, her lips pressed into a tight line.

Kallias’ voice rose.

“She has been having episodes where she freezes, clutching her belly and staring into nothing—” He gritted his teeth.“And when I bring her back, when I gently bring her back to the present, do you know what she does?” His laugh was cold. Cruel. “She smiles like nothing happened.”

Rhys’ face remained unreadable.

Kallias’ voice turned into a snarl.

“Do you know she has nightmares every gods-damned night? Almost as if she’s being reminded of your disgusting actions?”

Feyre flinched.

Kallias stepped even closer, furious now.

“And do you know, Rhysand—” His tone was filled with nothing but pure wrath now. “—that she has been doubting herself every moment? She’s been trying to hide it, but it’s killing her. From within.”

Rhys’ expression finally cracked. A flicker of guilt.

Kallias sneered.

And then, his voice dropped into ice-cold steel.

“You better apologize. On your knees.”

His words struck deep, the weight of them suffocating the room.

“Beg for her forgiveness, because you still have a gods-damned faeling on the way, and you best hope you can be a good father—at the very least.”

He took in Rhys’ barely concealed guilt, the tension crushing the room.

And then Kallias turned.

His parting words were quiet, but lethal.

“Because if you aren’t—” he gave one final, piercing glare “—I will make sure you regret it for the rest of your immortal life.”

And with that, he vanished, winnowing away in a gust of frozen wind.

Leaving behind nothing but a chilling silence.

An hour had passed since the healer had left. An hour of pacing, of restless hands wringing together, of her mind spiraling with thoughts she could not untangle.

Kallias was nowhere to be found. She had searched, called his name softly in the empty halls, but there had been no response. And with every passing moment, the worry in her chest grew, coiling tighter and tighter.

So when she finally stepped out of her room, heart pounding, she nearly missed him—almost didn't see him slipping into his own chambers, his hand on the door, about to shut it. But the soft click of her own door opening must have reached him, because he hesitated, head tilting slightly before turning fully to face her.

Their eyes collided.

And the first thing she noticed were the bruises—small but unmistakable wounds marring his otherwise perfect face. Red marks along his jaw. A faint cut near his cheekbone. His lower lip was slightly swollen.

She inhaled sharply.

There was only one being he would have fought like this.

Kallias remained silent, waiting for her reaction, and she sighed as she slowly stepped toward him. His fingers twitched on the door handle, as if torn between shutting himself away or—

The door opened.

Silently.

An unspoken invitation.

Y/N stepped inside, and Kallias shut the door behind her, locking it with a quiet click.

Her gaze flickered around the room—cold and grand, yet undeniably his. The heavy drapes of silver and midnight blue, the dark wooden furniture, the ever-present chill of winter that clung to the air but did not touch her skin. A fire crackled low in the hearth, barely illuminating the carved designs along the high ceiling. It was neat, yet something about it felt untouched. As if no one had lived in it for too long.

When she turned back to him, Kallias was still watching her. Silently. Intently.

She exhaled, shaking her head slightly.

“Do you have any tonics or salves?” she asked, voice softer than she expected.

A slow, almost dazed nod. Then, without a word, he turned and led her toward an adjoining washroom.

She took what she needed—her fingers grazing along the neatly arranged bottles, picking out the ones that would soothe the swelling, heal the cuts. Then, guiding him back to the bedroom, she pressed gently on his chest, urging him to sit at the edge of the bed.

Kallias obeyed.

And when she stepped between his legs, pressing a cloth to his jaw, she felt the way his body stiffened beneath her touch. Not from pain—but from something else entirely.

Silence stretched between them, heavy and charged.

Until finally, she whispered, “I take it you’re aware of the situation now?”

A slow nod. Then, just as softly, he whispered back, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her hand faltered for a second before she resumed dabbing at his jaw.

“What difference would it have made?” she murmured. “You and I… we weren’t that close.”

A mistake.

Because in the next heartbeat, his hand rose—gently but firmly clasping her wrist, halting her movements.

She looked at him, confused, but his grip did not waver.

“If only you ever gave me a chance,” Kallias whispered.

Her breath caught.

“What?”

His eyes burned with something raw, something centuries-old.

“If only you ever looked outside your bubble with Rhysand,” he continued, voice thick with emotion, “and saw me. Saw that I was there for you—heart and soul, every moment, wishing for you to be mine.”

The words slammed into her, knocking the air from her lungs.

She stepped back, barely registering the cloth slipping from her hands.

“What?” she repeated, disbelieving.

Kallias stood, not letting her distance herself.

“Do you know what a painful feeling it is to watch your mate be in love and carry another male’s child?” His voice cracked—just slightly. But his expression remained steady, unwavering. “To give her heart to him?”

Her mouth parted, but no words came out.

Mate.

He knew.

“You knew I was your mate?” she breathed, voice barely above a whisper.

A sad, almost broken smile touched his lips.

“I’ve known for nearly two hundred years.”

She felt dizzy.

“I felt it the moment I saw you,” he admitted, his voice dropping lower, more vulnerable. “And since then, I always felt you. Every moment. Every breath. During those fifty years under the mountain, I couldn’t feel you through Amarantha’s magic—but my thoughts were with you. Always with you.”

Her eyes burned.

“And after we were free…” He let out a shuddering breath. “You have no idea how overjoyed I was just to feel you through the bond again.”

He clenched his jaw, shaking his head. “The moment I was told you were pregnant, I wasn’t surprised. But I was still in pain. The weeks and months after that were no different.”

Y/N’s lips trembled.

“But that night,” Kallias whispered. “That night I felt great pain coming from you. And the next day, I had my reply sent to you.”

Her breath hitched.

“The night I found them kissing,” she murmured in realization.

His expression darkened, rage flickering across his face before he took a steady breath.

“I tried keeping this a secret,” he admitted. “I tried my best, Y/N. But…” His voice thickened with emotion. “I have already hidden this for two hundred years. I can’t do this anymore.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks.

“I understand if you need time to process it all,” he whispered. “But please, I hope you won’t be disappointed.”

She didn’t know what to say.

Didn’t know how to respond to this revelation that shattered everything she thought she knew.

“I…” She swallowed hard. “I need time to process. I am… I don’t—I don’t know what to say or do.”

Kallias held her gaze, his eyes filled with something unreadable.

“You don’t need to do anything,” he murmured. “Just be confident in your decision. Whatever it may be.”

She looked away, blinking back the tears.

Then, slowly, she turned toward the door.

She hesitated—just for a moment.

Then left.

And behind her, Kallias stood still in the center of the room, watching her go.

The days passed, but the weight of Kallias’ words did not fade.

If anything, they lingered. Clung to her skin, to her mind, to her soul.

She had not spoken to him about it since that night. Not because she didn’t want to—but because she didn’t know how.

Her mate.

Her mate, and he had known for nearly two hundred years.

She hadn’t known what to do with that information. She still didn’t.

So she had done what she always did. She buried it. She carried on. She let the days slip into nights, avoiding him when she could, enduring the unbearable tension when she couldn’t.

But she felt him everywhere.

Felt him in the way his gaze lingered on her across the dining table. In the way his presence filled the room the second he entered it, like winter itself bending to accommodate his power.

In the way her body, despite her protests, was aware of him.

Kallias, however, did not push.

He did not corner her, did not force her into another conversation about what he had revealed.

But that did not mean the tension between them had lessened. If anything, it had thickened.

And at night, when sleep refused to claim her, her mind would return to him.

How had she never seen it? Never felt it?

The way he looked at her. The way his voice softened ever so slightly when he spoke to her. The way his magic, cool and crisp as fresh snow, had always sought hers.

Rhysand had been her world for so long. She had loved him, given him everything. She had never once thought to look elsewhere.

But now—now, she had to.

And it terrified her.

So when another sleepless night came, when she found herself tossing and turning in her sheets, mind refusing to quiet, she could no longer take it.

A pull.

It tugged at her insides, restless and unrelenting.

She didn’t think. She simply obeyed it.

Throwing back her covers, she slid on a robe over her thin nightgown and padded barefoot out of her room.

The halls were silent, the moonlight casting long shadows along the frost-covered floors.

She didn’t need to wonder where she was going.

She already knew.

Her feet carried her straight to Kallias’ office, the pull within her intensifying the closer she got.

The door was slightly ajar, and when she reached it, she hesitated.

Then, taking a steadying breath, she pushed it open.

He was there.

Sitting behind his grand desk, head buried in documents, the glow of candlelight flickering against his sharp features.

He did not move at first.

But then—he stilled.

As if sensing her.

And when he slowly lifted his head, his piercing blue eyes locked onto hers.

The room suddenly felt too small. Too warm.

And that was when she realized—

She had come in wearing only her nightgown and robe.

A thin nightgown.

One that clung to her, that left very little to the imagination.

His gaze ran over her, darkening as it fell to her now prominent belly, before slowly trailing back up to her face.

She swallowed hard, cursing herself.

His voice was quiet, unreadable. “Y/N.”

She forced herself to clear her throat. Forced herself to hold his stare, despite the way it made her entire body feel like it was burning.

“I…” She inhaled deeply. “I came to ask some questions.”

Kallias did not move. Did not look away.

His gaze remained fixed on her, heavy and waiting.

When she did not immediately continue, he arched a single, silver brow.

“Ask them,” he murmured.

She tried to collect her thoughts, tried to remember why she had come here in the first place.

“Why?” she finally breathed. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

His expression did not shift.

But when she kept going, words spilling from her lips in a desperate attempt to understand—

He cut her off.

Smoothly.

Calmly.

“Do you want the answers or not?”

She stopped mid-sentence, mouth slightly parted.

And then—slowly—she nodded.

Kallias rose from his chair.

Her stomach clenched.

His movements were slow, deliberate, as he stepped around the desk, rounding it towards her.

His eyes never left her.

With each step he took, he answered.

“I didn’t tell you,” he said, voice low, steady, intense, “because you were in love with another. Because I wanted you to choose me for me, not because fate dictated it.”

Another step.

“I didn’t tell you,” he continued, “because I saw the way you looked at him. And I knew you never looked at me the same.”

Another step.

Closer.

Her breath hitched, but she did not move.

By the time he stopped, they were chest to chest.

She was close enough to see the faint scar above his eyebrow, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him despite the cold magic always humming beneath his skin.

Her heart pounded.

And when her gaze—without her permission—dropped to his lips, Kallias’ jaw tightened.

“Stop tempting me,” he murmured.

Her breath came unevenly.

“I’m not doing anything,” she whispered.

A low, quiet growl.

“Your existence is enough to tempt me,” he said, his voice raw. “Everything you do. Everything you wear. It tempts me.”

She didn’t know what came over her.

Perhaps it was the way his voice had turned rough, husky.

Perhaps it was the way his hands twitched at his sides, as if restraining themselves from reaching for her.

Perhaps it was the way her own body reacted to him, to his closeness, to the sheer, undeniable pull between them.

An urge.

A reckless, uncontrollable urge to kiss him.

Her fingers twitched.

Her breath mingled with his.

His hands fisted at his sides.

But instead—

Instead, she ran.

She took a sharp step back, nearly stumbling over herself as she turned away and hurried out of the room.

She did not stop.

Not when she reached her chambers.

Not when she collapsed onto her bed, heart racing, skin burning.

She did not stop.

But she cursed herself the entire time.

A month.

It had been a month since she had arrived in Winter.

A month since she had learned the truth.

A month since her world had shifted beneath her feet.

And now—

Now, she was nine months pregnant.

Due any day.

Y/N exhaled slowly, pressing a hand to her swollen belly as she gazed across the gardens of ice and snow.

It was breathtaking. A masterpiece of nature and magic intertwined.

Frozen roses glistened beneath the pale sunlight. Delicate trees, their branches coated in frost, stood tall against the clear blue sky. The air was crisp, biting against her skin, but she welcomed the cold.

It grounded her.

Unlike her thoughts. Unlike the turmoil that had been storming within her since that night in Kallias’ office.

Since she had nearly kissed him.

Since she had run.

She had avoided him even more after that. Refused to be alone with him. Refused to give him the chance to speak to her about what had happened.

But it hadn’t stopped her from feeling him.

Hadn’t stopped her from being aware of him every time he was near.

Hadn’t stopped the dreams.

The ones where his voice, husky and low, whispered to her in the darkness.

Where his hands, warm despite his magic, held her.

Where his lips—

She exhaled sharply, cutting off the thought before it could fully form.

No.

No, she wouldn’t think of that.

She couldn’t.

Instead, she focused on the silence around her. The stillness. The temporary peace that came with the gardens.

Until—

She felt it.

Him.

His presence.

A familiar, steady weight pressing against her senses.

The air seemed to shift, thickening with something unspoken.

And then—

Slow, measured steps against the snow.

She knew it was him before she even turned.

And when she did—

Her breath caught.

Kallias strolled into the gardens with an effortless grace that only he possessed.

His white hair gleamed beneath the sun, tousled just enough to make her wonder if he had run a hand through it in frustration. His sharp jawline was dusted with the barest hint of stubble, making him look unfairly handsome.

He was dressed in his usual pristine attire, the elegant fabric emphasizing his powerful frame.

But it wasn’t just his appearance that made her heart stutter.

It was his eyes.

Icy blue, watching her softly.

Unwavering.

She turned away immediately, forcing herself to focus on the frozen roses once more.

She wouldn’t do this.

Wouldn’t stand here and pretend her body didn’t react to his presence.

Wouldn’t pretend her heart didn’t ache with confusion every time she looked at him.

So she did the only thing she knew how to do.

She tried to leave.

But the moment she took a step forward, his voice—deep, steady, commanding—cut through the air.

"You can't keep running away from everything."

She froze.

Slowly, she turned to face him, her hands tightening around the edges of her robe.

Her lips curled slightly. "I can try."

His expression didn’t change. But something flickered in his eyes.

A mixture of exasperation. And something else. Something deeper.

"You are impossibly stubborn," he murmured, stepping closer.

"And you are impossibly persistent," she shot back, lifting her chin.

A ghost of a smirk touched his lips. "It seems we have that in common, then."

She pressed her lips together, unsure how to respond.

Kallias took another step, his gaze sweeping over her face, then down to her belly.

She expected him to stop there, but his eyes softened—so much it nearly hurt to look at.

"You're due any day now," he murmured.

Her throat tightened. "I know."

Another step.

Closer.

"Are you well?" he asked, voice quieter. "Do you need anything?"

The sincerity in his voice, in his concern, made her pulse stammer.

She opened her mouth, hesitated, then asked the question that had been clawing at her for weeks.

"Why do you care?"

Kallias blinked.

His brows furrowed slightly, as if the question confused him.

Her throat worked as she swallowed.

"The faeling," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why do you care for my baby when you know they are from another male?"

Silence.

A beat passed.

Then another.

And then—

Kallias’ expression softened in a way she had never seen before.

Slowly, he stepped closer.

And before she could move, before she could stop him—

He gently grasped her arms.

His touch was careful. Warm.

And when he spoke, his voice was so quiet, so reverent, that she could hardly breathe.

"Because it is not the baby’s fault to have such a father."

Her chest tightened.

"Because none of this is their fault."

Her vision blurred.

"Because they are yours. And that is all that matters to me."

Her breath shuddered out of her.

Something inside her cracked.

A tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it.

Kallias’ fingers twitched against her arms.

And then—slowly, hesitantly—he reached up and brushed the tear away with the back of his knuckles.

The touch was light. Barely there.

But it made her stomach flip nonetheless.

She parted her lips, wanting to say something—anything—when—

A throat cleared.

Both of them stiffened.

The moment shattered.

Y/N turned her head—and felt the breath get knocked from her lungs.

Behind the servant standing in the archway of the gardens—

Stood Rhysand.

Her heart stopped.

The servant bowed slightly before addressing Kallias.

"High Lord Rhysand of Night, Your Grace."

The moment the words left the servant’s mouth, Kallias went utterly, dangerously still.

Y/N barely had time to react before Kallias’ arm pressed lightly against her, a silent yet firm movement as he pushed her behind him.

As if shielding her.

As if Rhys was a threat.

Her lips parted, her entire body locking in place as Kallias stepped forward, dismissing the servant without even looking at him.

Rhysand’s violet eyes flickered between them.

Between her.

Between Kallias.

Between where Kallias had moved to shield her.

And in that moment—

In that heartbeat of silence—

She knew.

Everything was about to change.

The air was thick with tension.

Y/N barely breathed as she peeked out from behind Kallias' broad frame, her heart hammering.

Rhysand stood just beyond them, his violet eyes unreadable, his wings tucked in tight, his hands flexing at his sides.

But she saw it.

The hesitation.

The hurt.

The way his gaze flickered—between her, between Kallias, between the space Kallias had deliberately placed between them. Between the connection he clearly saw.

He swallowed, composing himself with a slow inhale before exhaling heavily, his face blanking out.

Finally, he spoke.

"May we…" His voice was quieter than she expected, rough.

A pause.

A hesitation.

He sighed before trying again, voice steadier, though there was something raw beneath it.

"May we have a talk?"

Y/N sucked in a breath.

She felt Kallias tense beside her, his body a solid wall of unwavering strength. His eyes never left Rhys, cold and sharp as ice, watching every move the High Lord of Night made.

But he didn’t stop her.

Didn’t argue when she stepped forward, gently brushing past him.

Still, before she moved completely out of his reach, she turned.

A small, real smile—one just for him.

"Don’t worry," she murmured, holding his gaze. "I need this."

Kallias’ icy blue eyes softened.

A barely-there nod. Understanding.

"I will be nearby," he promised, voice quiet.

But when he turned to Rhys, his gaze hardened, a silent death glare that sent a chill through the air.

Y/N ignored it.

Instead, she led Rhysand a little further away, her posture shifting.

Gone was the hesitance, the uncertainty.

The second she turned to face him again, her entire demeanor changed.

Her voice was sharp. Cold.

"Talk."

Rhysand exhaled, his expression twisting as if it physically pained him to begin.

But he did.

From the start.

From Under the Mountain.

From the moment Amarantha had taken him, from the moment he had felt something shifting deep in his soul, long before Feyre had even arrived to save them.

How he had suspected Feyre was his mate before she had even set foot in that cursed place.

How the bond had begun pulling at him, whispering, nudging, long before she had even known him.

How, during every trial Feyre endured, during every moment of her suffering, his instincts screamed at him—protect her, protect her, protect her.

How, by the time she had finally saved them all, finally broken the curse—

"By then," he murmured, his voice nearly shaking, "I already felt the bond snap into place for me."

Y/N stilled.

A cold, hollow silence stretched between them.

Rhys swallowed.

"So when I arrived back home—to you. To Mor. I already knew."

A sharp, bitter laugh left her lips.

Of course.

Her heart clenched, but she smiled—a twisted, cold thing.

"I should’ve known."

Rhys flinched.

"Because you weren’t yourself from the moment you came back."

Her voice wavered, but she didn’t stop.

"Always hesitating to touch me. Always distracted. Always—" She let out another humorless laugh, shaking her head. "I’m surprised I’m even pregnant right now."

Rhys’ jaw clenched, shame clouding his features.

"Y/N—"

"Save it," she snapped.

But he didn’t stop.

He explained everything.

Why he kept disappearing at night.

Why he had been gone for days at a time.

How, when Feyre and Tamlin were about to be wed, the bond had pulled him to her so strongly that he had to interfere—had to take her.

How he had been with her every time he was not with Y/N.

And how he had hidden it.

Lied.

Made her doubt herself.

Her hands curled into fists.

Her voice was softer when she spoke next, but it was far colder.

"All this time," she murmured.

Rhys stilled.

"All this time," she repeated, her voice shaking just slightly, "I had eyes only for you."

Her breath hitched.

"And yet—"

She met his gaze, let him see the truth in her eyes.

"Kallias has been my true mate all along."

Rhysand froze.

His entire body went rigid.

"What?"

A small, cruel smile touched her lips.

"You heard me."

Rhys shook his head slightly, as if trying to process it.

As if he hadn’t even considered it.

"Kallias is my mate," she continued, voice firm.

And this time, she felt it—the truth of the words, settling into her very bones.

Rhys looked… devastated.

"I—" He faltered.

But she didn’t care.

"I understand," she said, voice cold, "that Feyre is your mate."

Her fingers clenched at her sides.

"Because now that I have found my mate—" Her voice wavered. "I know what it feels like."

Rhys opened his mouth, but she cut him off.

"But hiding it?" Her eyes burned. "Making me doubt myself? Hate myself? Making me feel like I was losing you because of something I did?"

Her voice cracked.

"I won’t ever forgive you for that."

Rhysand flinched as if struck.

But she wasn’t done.

"But we have a child together."

His gaze snapped to hers.

"At least tell me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "that you will be a good father to them."

Rhys’ lips parted, his expression crumbling.

"Of course," he breathed, "of course, I will—"

But before he could finish, before he could even take a step forward—

Y/N gasped.

Pain. Sharp and sudden.

She clutched her stomach.

Her knees nearly buckled.

"My—" She gasped again, her body tensing.

Rhys’ eyes went wide.

"Y/N?"

"My water—" Her breath hitched. "The baby—the baby is coming!"

Chaos erupted.

Before she could even register what was happening, Kallias was there.

Instant. Immediate.

Rhys barely had time to react before Kallias shoved him aside, reaching for her.

"I’ve got you," Kallias murmured, his arms strong as he lifted her effortlessly into his hold.

She barely registered Rhys following as Kallias carried her inside, barking orders.

Midwives. Midwives were summoned at once, servants scrambling.

She clung to Kallias, her breath sharp, her body burning as the contractions began to intensify.

"I’m here," Kallias murmured against her forehead.

Her vision blurred.

"You’re not alone, starlight."

Rhys followed.

Kallias did not acknowledge him.

Not as he carried her into her chambers.

Not as he lowered her onto the prepared bed.

Not as he whispered, over and over, words only meant for her.

Words of comfort.

Words of devotion.

Words that Rhysand would never say again.

The room was dimly lit, the scent of lavender and fresh linens thick in the air as Y/N lay on the soft sheets, utterly exhausted. But despite the ache in her body, despite the whirlwind of emotions that had led up to this moment, her heart was full—because in her arms lay a tiny, fragile miracle.

Her daughter.

She traced the baby’s delicate features, her small nose, her plump little lips, the faintest dusting of dark lashes against rosy cheeks. She was warm, impossibly tiny, and perfect.

Rhysand sat in the chair beside the bed, unusually silent. He had not left. He had not even tried to. Instead, he was staring at their child with something so raw in his expression that, for the first time in a long while, Y/N saw him not as her betrayer but as a father.

“She has your nose,” Rhys murmured after a long pause, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and emotion.

Y/N huffed softly, tilting her head. “But your lips,” she countered, smoothing a thumb over the baby’s pout.

Rhys gave a small, breathless chuckle, his violet eyes bright as he leaned in just a little closer. “And your cheeks. She’s going to be so beautiful, just like her mother.”

For a fleeting second, a warm, nostalgic peace settled between them. An understanding. An unspoken acknowledgment of the life they had created together.

Then Y/N’s expression hardened. “Now that you have a daughter, you better pray she never meets a male like you.”

Rhys inhaled sharply, clearly stung. But instead of responding with guilt, his lips pressed into a determined line, his violet eyes flashing with something fiercely protective. “I would kill any male who ever hurt my princess.” He softened immediately after, gently extending his hands. “May I?”

Y/N hesitated but eventually nodded. She watched as Rhys cradled their daughter in his arms, his touch reverent, as if he were holding something sacred.

He was utterly enchanted, whispering soft words to the little girl, pressing the lightest kiss to her forehead. And for a moment, Y/N could see the father he was meant to be—the father he would be.

But she could not let that soften her resolve.

“I believe by now you know,” she murmured, folding her hands over her lap, “that I will be staying here permanently. With my mate.”

Rhys visibly tensed. His gaze flickered to her, pain swimming in his violet eyes. “Y/N…”

She shook her head, unwilling to hear whatever argument he might have.

Instead, Rhys exhaled sharply, adjusting the baby in his arms. “When she comes to Velaris, you too—”

“Not now.” Y/N cut him off, her voice firm. “I won’t be coming anytime soon.”

His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to protest, but he swallowed it down.

Y/N, however, turned her full attention back to her baby, brushing a finger over her tiny fingers, smiling as they wrapped around hers. In a playful, sing-song voice, she cooed, “But Uncles Cas and Az, and Aunties Mor and Amren—they are always welcome here, aren’t they? Yes, they are.”

Rhys sucked in a slow breath. She saw the way it gutted him, the way his shoulders slumped ever so slightly. But he nodded. “Of course.”

They spoke a little longer, quietly agreeing on how they would co-parent, what would be best for the child. But when Rhys finally murmured, “Y/N… I am so sorry. And Feyre is also—”

She didn’t let him finish.

“Save it,” she said coldly, her gaze snapping back to his. “You may leave now. You saw the baby. Come back tomorrow, if you will. Or don’t. I don’t care.”

Rhys looked like he had a thousand more things to say, but he only nodded slowly, gently placing the baby back in Y/N’s arms before standing. He hesitated at the door.

“Call Kallias in,” she ordered, her voice unrelenting.

Rhys turned to leave without another word.

And the moment Kallias entered the room, Y/N’s body instinctively relaxed.

He was by her side in an instant, his ice-blue eyes full of nothing but love as he settled beside her, tucking a strand of damp hair from her face.

“She’s perfect,” he murmured, gazing down at the baby. “Just like her mother.”

Y/N exhaled a soft laugh, her lips curving up. And as she looked at him, at his pure, unwavering devotion, she felt a shift deep within herself. A warmth. A certainty.

“I accept,” she whispered.

Kallias stilled, his brows drawing together slightly.

She lifted her gaze to meet his. “I accept you as my mate, Kal. And I’m so sorry I never paid you the attention you deserved before.”

Kallias blinked, stunned for only a second before his expression softened into something radiant, something home. He reached for her free hand, bringing it to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles.

“You have nothing to apologize for, my love,” he murmured, cradling both her and their child in his arms. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

A tear slipped down Y/N’s cheek, but for the first time in months, it was not from pain.

Kallias leaned down, brushing a feather-light kiss to her lips. It was slow, lingering, full of unspoken promises.

When he pulled away, he smirked, his thumb tracing circles along the back of her hand. “Get well soon, my beautiful High Lady. I have a coronation to plan for you.”

Y/N let out a disbelieving laugh.“You seriously would do that?”

He only grinned. “You deserve it. The Night Court never deserved you.”

Y/N’s heart clenched, and she leaned into him as he cocooned her and their daughter in his arms.

Kallias pressed another kiss to her temple and whispered, “But before that… our mating ceremony.”

Y/N giggled softly, curling into him.

Home.

She had finally found home.

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

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