#just finished running a little oneshot with her!

[kiwifie]

warforged bard

[jinwoosungs]

12/03/24: 04:45pm

lovesick!sung jinwoo x fem.reader

notes: loosely based on the hallmark movie drew gooden was watching and reviewing titled timeless love.

warnings: unedited; canon divergent to fit with this oneshot's storyline; potentially ooc; dark content; obsessive behavior; read at your own caution.

alternate title: your heart belongs to me.

sunlight streams through the open windows, painting the bedroom in brilliant hues of gold. dawn had long since morphed into morning, rousing a once sleeping couple back to consciousness.

the husband was the first to awaken, stretching out his limbs as a yawn escapes from his parted lips. wiping the sleep from his eyes, he trails his stormy grey eyes toward the form settled achingly close to him.

pulling down the comforter, he reveals your sleeping figure with your head buried within his chest. letting out a grunt of approval, he gently delves his fingers into your hair, massaging at your scalp, already grinning the moment you began to awaken.

he was the first to notice the smile that was beginning to spread across your features, basking in your sleepy giggles when he continues massaging at your scalp. "h-hey, if you keep doing that, i'll end up spending the whole day in bed."

jinwoo simply lets out a rich chuckle in response, allowing the tip of his nose to nuzzle against yours, eyes filled with adoration for you, "well, maybe that's what i want to do... keep you here in bed with me for the rest of the day-"

he stops speaking, eyes now turning affectionate at the pitter patter of footsteps quickly approaching your shared bedroom. already accustomed to such sounds, you sit up in bed, already anticipating their arrival when your kids, min-jun and sera, rush into your room.

hearing his children's laughter fills his chest with joy, allowing his son and daughter to jump on his bed, eyes already regarding the way his kids cling to their mother. he rests his cheek against the palm of his hand, admiring the way you pressed kisses against both of their tiny cheeks.

"hey, you guys are making me jealous over here."

sera was the first to move away from you, grey eyes lighting up when she suddenly lunges at him, "papa!"

welcoming his little girl in his embrace, he gives her a series of kisses as well, only stopping when min-jun comes closer to him as well, "dad, i'm getting hungry, can you make breakfast?" sera's eyes light up at the thought of having breakfast soon, with her nodding her head in agreement to her brother's words.

"well, who am i to deny my children's needs?" jinwoo was grinning down at his kids, "how's this for a plan: why don't you and your little sister brush your teeth and wash your face while your mother and i prepare breakfast?"

"yay!" both of his kids immediately rush away from him, giving him a private moment with you. just as you got out of bed, jinwoo wraps his arms around your waist, managing to capture your lips in a sweet kiss while basking in your soft giggles.

"behave, i need to take a shower real quick, then i'll join you in the kitchen." letting out a groan of your name, jinwoo allows you to escape from his loose embrace, not moving from his spot in bed until you disappear into your shared bathroom and locked it.

running a hand through his hair, making them even messier while letting out a yawn. he gets out of bed, remaking it as he places the sheets and comforter in place, adding the finishing touches by fluffing up the pillows and settling them against the headboard.

making his way towards the kitchen, he makes sure to make a fresh batch of cooked rice before making the rest of his side dishes ranging from his famous omelettes with sausages and a side of kimchi. with the table all set, jinwoo calls out to his beloved family.

"min-jun, sera! breakfast is ready!"

he strains his ears, trying to detect any sounds of pounding footsteps. yet... when all he hears was dead silence, concern began coursing through his veins. rushing out of the kitchen, he calls out their names again, voice cracking when he cries out to you-

only to receive the same, deafening silence in response.

the room was felt spinning around him, making him stumble before falling to his knees. his eyes look straight into the digital clock settled in front of him, the time reading 0800 as an incessant beeping sound breaks jinwoo out of his reveries-

"BOSS!!"

sung jinwoo wakes up with a start, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his heart pounding in tune to the heart monitor his body was connected to. no tubes or wires covered his mouth as jinwoo takes in a deep breath to help with steadying his heart.

"boss, are you okay?! you've been out of it for a while now! i was so worried about you-" from beside him, jinho continues on with his concerned rambles as he looks away from him to see the familiar blue screen of the system:

[ player sung jinwoo's slumber has lasted for 21 days and 8 hours... ]

"where's min-jun and sera?" jinwoo asks in a hoarse tone, making jinho furrow his brows at him. "what? who are they?"

"tch, they're my kids." jinwoo was glaring at jinho, as if silently scolding him for his ignorance. "and my wife-" yet the moment he says your name, jinho's expression remains confused.

"boss, i hate to break it to you, but- you're not married at all. you've been single the whole time that i've known you."

"that's-" yet jinwoo's words were cut off the moment a nurse enters his room. she sees him sitting up in bed while pressing down on her communication device, "dr. choi, patient sung jinwoo has just awakened, come to unit d501, quick!"

jinho was immediately rushed out of the room, and the young hunter finds himself surrounded by a plethora of medical staff-

without a single sign of you in sight.

{ ... }

the weeks pass by in a blur, with his sister helping him back home. she keeps a steady hand behind his back, rubbing comforting circles behind his back, "oppa, are you alright?"

lifeless grey eyes meet with his sister's concerned gaze, making him force a smile as he gently ruffles her hair. "yeah, i'm alright."

he continues the trek back to his and jinah's shared apartment, thinking back on the events that had happened so far (according to jinho's recollection).

apparently, they had entered a dungeon together, and jinho had simply witnessed him taking on hundreds of enemies. jinwoo vaguely recalls how the system had ordered him to take out at least a hundred enemies within the span of an hour and how he had fought tirelessly against them with a single dagger-

only to feel something sharp pierce him at the back of his head, successfully rendering him unconscious.

that single attack was enough to knock jinwoo out for a total of three weeks-

within the span of those three weeks, he had dreamt of living a blissful and happy life with you-

but now that he was awake, he had long since lost such feelings of happiness.

"you know..." jinah's voice breaks him out of his momentary reveries, "jinho told me what happened, and he said that you... you wished to see your kids-"

"i'd rather not talk about it." jinwoo grits his teeth in response, hurriedly pulling up the hood of his jacket to help with hiding his expression from his sister. it wasn't like he wanted to remain so closed off from jinah-

it was the sheer fact that acknowledging how it was never real put an even deeper hole within his chest.

detecting the pain in his voice, jinah simply nods, walking beside her brother while softly sighing to herself. somehow, she knew that whatever jinwoo had went through truly took a toll on not only his mental health-

but his heart as well.

{ ... }

jinwoo felt guilty for remaining so closed off with his sister that he decided to cook her favorite meal later that night. while eating, he saw his sister trembling in her seat, eyes filling with tears before admitting to him, "w-when i saw you sleeping so deeply, like you were trapped in a glass coffin, i was so afraid that i would lose you- just like with mom a-and dad."

his heart twists even further upon hearing her admission, making jinwoo stand from his seat. he takes jinah's trembling form within his embrace, delving his fingers into her hair, "ssssh, i won't ever leave you... and i'm so sorry for making you wait for so long."

jinah sniffles and gives him a nod, "y-yeah, but, when you were still sleeping... jinho stopped by and helped a lot. he stayed by your side and gave me updates, s-so..." as his sister trails off, jinwoo felt a strange sense of relief at the thought of jinho helping his sister.

making sure that jinah was well fed, jinwoo makes sure to send her off to bed at a reasonable time for school. with all the dishes cleaned, jinwoo heads back to his room before taking out his phone. his gaze remains expressionless when he searches through the device while typing in a single name.

{ ... }

jinwoo and jinho were settled within ahjin guild's new building, with jinho looking over the thick notebook that held an almost frightening amount of notes pertaining to his boss's so-called dreamwife.

"this is the reason why you won't let hunter cha join our guild?" jinho looks away from the pages to meet jinwoo's gaze as he sipped on a cup of instant coffee. "yes, because i am already a married man and don't wish to have any distractions."

"does she know she's married to you?" jinho wasn't brave enough to flat out tell jinwoo how insane all of this was, since he still held him in high regard. after all, he knew that if it wasn't for jinwoo, then he wouldn't have had much success in kickstarting his own guild.

which was why he kept his own personal musings to himself, still doing his best to support the man he saw as his big brother despite it all.

"not yet." jinwoo glares down at his cup of coffee, "it's just... i know it's crazy, but you don't know what it's like to be in a coma for that long while experiencing something so vivid."

focusing his gaze on the dark liquid, jinwoo continues to reminisce about his dreams, "in my dreams, she was so real to me. her smile, her laughter, and the way she made me feel- every single thing about her has been imprinted on my soul."

finally meeting jinho's gaze, he gestures toward the filled notebook, "those pages contain every little detail that i know about her. from her favorite color to her favorite foods, to even her favorite books and movies- everything was written based on my memory of that dream."

jinho heaves out a little sigh before closing the notebooks all while sliding it back to jinwoo from across the coffee table. "you're right in saying that it is crazy, however, i'm stupid enough to follow with your whims and support you, boss."

{ ... }

jinwoo had a meeting to attend with the chairman, which was what brought him back to the hunter's association. he vaguely recalls go gunhee mentioning a new healer that would be transferring to seoul, and how he responded in a polite manner, doing his best to hide his disinterest.

when he steps out of the chairman's office, he nearly runs into someone, clicking his tongue as he wrapped his arms around the unknown person to keep them from falling to the ground.

"are you alright?" jinwoo asks, only for his eyes to go wide upon seeing a familiar head of hair.

"sorry, i got a l-little lost, is this the chairman's office?"

it was at that moment that jinwoo felt his heart cease its beat-

for he had finally found you.

{ ... }

heat was felt settled on your cheeks the moment you came face to face with sung jinwoo.

and gods above, he was far lovelier than you could have ever dreamt of. despite coming from a different country, you remained achingly aware of how a single hunter from south korea rose to the ranks, losing his former title of being the weakest in the world when he became korea's 10nth s-ranker.

in every candid shot you had seen of sung jinwoo, he appeared goofy yet incredibly cute at the same time. sure, you acknowledged his attractiveness on screen-

but nothing could prepare you when it came to finally meeting him face-to-face.

his boyish features were now amplified, with jinwoo standing well above you with his lanky frame. you take in the sight of his crooked smile and how his beauty seemed to be further accentuated by the sight of his sharp jawline.

you kept gawking at him for a few more seconds before quickly snapping out of it with a shake of your head. an introduction was felt settled on the tip of your tongue, yet jinwoo ends up further surprising you when he says your name.

"it's nice to finally meet you, my name is sung jinwoo."

you open and close your mouth in response, asking in an almost dumb manner, "h-how did you know my name?"

your question succeeds in making jinwoo stiffen in response, his outstretched hand remaining frozen. his mouth kept opening and closing, without a single word being said. "ah... well, the chairman was talking about you being our newly transferred healer earlier, that's why i knew your name."

you visibly relax upon hearing his explanation, letting out a sigh of relief, "oh, right, that makes sense!"

wishing to diffuse the awkward situation, you let out a gentle laugh and gesture toward the chairman's office, "ah, so, i guess i'll attend my meeting now-"

a gasp was felt lodged within your throat when jinwoo grips at your wrist, preventing you from moving forward, "wait."

you give him a questioning glance, earning a warm smile from jinwoo, "i'd like to welcome you here, so... would you care to join me for dinner later?"

the same warmth was felt against your cheeks, making you feel a bit shy when you give jinwoo a nod, "sure, i'd love to join you for dinner."

an overwhelming look of joy takes over jinwoo's features, with him letting you go to attend your meeting with go gunhee. "awesome, that's... great."

feeling dazed at the sight of his smile, you knew that the butterflies that kept erupting all across your abdomen prevented you from truly acknowledging the alarm bells that went off in your head, your mind slowly taken over with romantic daydreams pertaining to the famous hunter you had finally met.

and sadly, you would never know the true depths of sung jinwoo's obsession for you.

{ ... }

jinwoo had spent months preparing for this very moment-

and once he finally had you sleeping in the same bed with him-

there was no way he was going to squander it.

moonlight paints his room in subtle, glowing silver hues, painting our sleeping figure in an almost ethereal light. the powerful hunter was unable to sleep now that he had you so close to him-

exactly where he wanted you.

his whispers of your name remained constant, becoming so frequent that the syllables that made up your name felt like a prayer that fell from his parted lips.

of course it was like a prayer-

for jinwoo solely worshipped you.

you had come into his life in the most unorthodox of ways, where his first meeting with you happened during a mutual raid that happened when he first began his career as a hunter. he was barely out of high school when he attended a raid that nearly killed him.

somehow, he had gotten lost, nearly dying of starvation as he was left to rot-

life was felt quickly seeping out of him-

but that was when you came along.

you, with your gentle healing aura and kind eyes-

you, whose beautiful features were forever imprinted within his very mind the moment you healed him and offered him some food to help with regaining his strength-

you, who never once left his heart ever since that fateful day.

you became his sole source of light, using your existence as a means to push him forward when he was struggling so much with keeping his own life together (a sickly mother with a sister who relied on him in the wake of his father's disappearance).

you were the one who gave him the sole courage to face the many challenges that came with being the weakest hunter-

yet even when he was so close to death, your comforting presence never once returned to him.

by then, he was desperate to know all he could about you, and it was during this time that he realized that you had lived in a different part of the world, saving the lives of other hunters in gates that were more prevalent within your city.

but that didn't stop jinwoo's obsession from growing.

he kept what felt like thousands upon thousands of notebooks pertaining to you and your accomplishments, never once stopping his writings when it came to you all while praying for the day he would see you again.

up to the point where his fate had been altered by the events of the double dungeons-

jinwoo had never once stopped thinking of you. and when the system offered him another chance at life-

your face was all he could see the moment he accepts being the system's player.

while he performed all of the missions and tasks given to him, jinwoo had no intention of getting knocked out by the enemy, falling into a coma that left him helpless-

yet at the same time, the fact that he dreamt of you and the perfect life you had built together-

it only served to further solidify jinwoo's belief that you were made for each other-

made for him.

and it was only a matter of time that you would serendipitously appear within his life.

in fact, jinwoo had carefully orchestrated your transfer to seoul's hunter association branch. using the funds jinho had provided for him, he manages to find you, paying off your guild all while convincing your guildmaster to keep such a transaction a secret as the promise of your arrival further fuels his desires to see you again.

the waiting game for your arrival nearly killed jinwoo-

yet when chairman gunhee tells him about your transfer to seoul-

the hunter couldn't have been happier.

upon seeing you once more, he basks in your presence, knowing that you were by far the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. he ignores the need to chain you to him, wishing to take his time when it came to courting you-

because deep down, he wanted you to naturally fall for him more than anything else.

now, six months later, sung jinwoo finally has you exactly where he wanted you. unable to hide his feelings of pure devotion for you, he makes love to you after celebrating being together with you for half a year. after waiting far too long for you, there was no way he was going to ever let you leave him.

had you been awake, you would have noticed the crazed expression settled within jinwoo's gaze, his voice letting out soft coos of your name before laying beside you. he allows the back of his hand to caress at your bare skin, swearing an oath to never leave your side.

sliding his eyes shut, jinwoo carefully places your body against his naked chest, basking in your gentle hum as you buried your face deeper into his chest. hazy grey eyes look over toward his closet, knowing of the stacks upon stacks of notebooks he had dedicated to you were behind that closed door.

jinwoo supposes he could let his loyal shadow soldiers help with burning those books away-

after all, the shadow monarch had no need for them now that he has you in his arms.

end notes: lmao when the delulu is the solulu in jinwoo's eyes ♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[auraisereigh]

"For Her, Always"

oneshot

Garrick Tavis x Riorson reader Request: Garrick x riorson little sister (she is a 2 year with Bohdi they are bff) they fell in love when they were little and now she is a rider but they hide what they feel to not upset Xaden, but the some guy flirts with her and we get MAD JELOUS Garrick and he hurts the guy on challenges, Xaden notices and they have a talk so then reader and Garrick can be together (Love confession Bridgerton style) wc: 6.8 ☆ no specific spoilers. Uses pronouns: she/her.

Masterlist ☆ Dragon guide ☆ Star's story ☆ Empyrean guide ☆ Support me

If there was one thing about Garrick Travis then it was that he was attractive, always had been- even when he was younger. I would be lying if I said I didn't feel something for him. And maybe, just maybe, I would have said something by now if it wasn't for the fact that he's best friends with my brother.

Xaden.

He has enough on his mind. Adding to that is the last thing on my mind. Even if that means I'll have to keep my feelings to myself. Even if that means my heart will keep yearning for what I can't have. At least I can still stare at him. From a distance, in the practice room. It's better than nothing I suppose.

"You're staring." Bodhi muzes next to me. I shoot a small glare his way as I continue to wrap my hands for sparring. "Am not." I respond tense.

Second year is more difficult and stressfull than it seemed. RSC hanging over my head. Xaden has done his part in preparing me but that didn't make it less terrifying and seeing as it's unpredictable when leadership would come and get us, well, that just makes it worse.

Not that I have seen a lot of Xaden lately, he's been occupied with a certain Sorrengail.

That thought brings me back to where I am. Xaden is training the youngest Sorrengail on one of the mats in the corners, Garrick not far away from them as he practices with his sword.

And I'd hate to admit it but I am staring.

After I finish wrapping my hands I stand and pick up my daggers. They had always been my preferred weapon. Light but easy to use.

I go through my usual warm up routine. Swinging them around. It's all going smoothly until I hear a voice call out. "Looking good, beautiful."

I glance toward the voice, only to find Oren—the overconfident third-year with a cocky grin plastered on his face—walking toward me. He’s twirling his sword as if to show off, his steps relaxed.

“Your technique’s good, but I think you’re missing something,” he says, a smirk on his face.

I raise an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “And what would that be?” He shrugs, a look of mischief appears in his eyes. “A partner. You know, someone to make things more… interesting.” He takes a step closer, lowering his voice. “Maybe someone who can keep up with you.”

I roll my eyes and focus back on my daggers, spinning one lazily between my fingers. “I’m perfectly fine. Thanks though.” I reply sarcastic, focusing back on my daggers. In the corner of my eye i catch Garrick's gaze.

But Oren doesn’t back down. “Come on, beautiful. You’ve got moves, but I bet I could teach you a thing or two. Maybe over a Meal?” His grin widens. I shake off the shiver that runs through my spine. An uncomfortable look on my face.

"Back off Oren." Bodhi's voice cuts through the tension. "She's already got someone to spar with." Bodhi's voice is on the cold side, almost as sharp as my brother Xaden's.

I give Bodhi a grateful smile as Oren retreats a step, his hands up in surrender. The smirk on his face is still present and I can tell he's not finished. For now maybe. But not forever.

♤

I stand by the surrounding crowd. All our eyes are on the mat, at the fight that is happening. It's a good match-- the matches before this one were a little meh but this one is actually good, we might be onto something.

The match ends after the second year taps out. From the corner of my eye I can see Garrick talking to Emmeterio. Why would he talk to him?

"Next match. Seifert and Travis." Emmeterio announces and my heart jumpes in my throat. That can't be a coincidence can it? Garrick against Oren not even a day after the small incident in the sparring room.

I can feel Xaden's eyes on me but I don't turn to face him. My eyes are solely on Garrick as he takes his place on the mat. His face holds the sole emotion of anger.

Oren charges first but Garrick side steps him, around his attack. Oren tries again but Garrick takes a hold of his arm, twisting it and Oren let's out a groan.

I can see Garrick say something to Oren but it's too quiet for me to hear. Garrick starts twisting his arm at an unnatural angle. He puts his leg between Oren's and he falls backwards on the mat. I knew Garrick was a good fighter but he's really good.

Garrick easily straddles Oren, a dagger at his throat and I wouldn't wish the look upon Garricks face to anyone. Not even my worst enemy.

He moves his dagger slightly, enough to draw blood but not enough to seriously injure him. I hold my breath at the sight. There is no way Garrick would actually kill him right?

He presses the blad harder against Oren's neck. I hear the familiar tap against the mat, he taps out. I let out the breath I'd been holding, Garrick slowly gets off him. He takes a step backwards, his dagger still in his hand.

I also take a step back, most people in this room night not know what this means but some do. I can feel bodhi's and Xaden's eyes in my back, burning holes.

I can see Xaden follow Garrick out of the sparring room and I don't hesitate to follow. I follow them quietly until they stop in a dark alley.

"What was that supposed to mean?" Xaden snaps at Garrick. His voice full of authority. I stay hidden behind the wall.

"He was flirting with her last night." I hear Garrick argue, frustration laced in his tone. "I'm aware of that. I saw it to but she can defend herself." Xaden voice grows bored.

"You're telling me you don't care that an asshole was flirting with your sister?" The frustration in his voice grows harsher.

“Of course I care,” Xaden snaps. “But I trust her to handle it. You, however, handled it as though you were issuing a challenge. That’s not protecting her—it’s claiming her.”

Garrick falls silent for a moment, his heavy breathing the only sound in the alley. “Maybe I am,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a weight I’ve never heard before. My breath catches in my throat.

“You don’t get to do that unless you’re willing to back it up,” Xaden warns, his tone razor-sharp. “You don’t get to make her your responsibility unless she’s choosing you. So tell me, Garrick, what exactly are your intentions?”

There’s a long pause before Garrick speaks, but when he does, his voice is steady. “My intentions are to love her. To protect her. To be the one she can turn to for the rest of her life. If that’s claiming her, so be it. I’ve loved her for longer than I care to admit, and I’m done hiding it.”

I press my hand to my mouth, trying to contain the gasp that threatens to escape. Did he just say…?

“And what about her?” Xaden challenges. “Have you even thought about what she wants? Or is this just about you?”

“It’s about her,” Garrick snaps back. “It’s always been about her.” “Then maybe you should say something to her instead of throwing daggers at every man who looks her way,” Xaden retorts. “Because this whole display? It’s not going to win her over. Talk to her. And for both your sakes, stop making me the middleman.”

I hear footsteps retreating, the sound of Xaden walking away. My heart pounds as I realize I’m now alone with Garrick, hidden just around the corner.

I take a shaky breath, stepping out of the shadows. “You could’ve just asked me,” I say softly.

Garrick whirls around, his eyes wide with shock. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough,” I admit, stepping closer. “Is it true? What you said?”

He looks away, running a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t matter—” “It does matter,” I cut him off, my voice trembling. “Because I’ve spent so long trying to convince myself that what I feel for you is one-sided. That you could never see me as anything more than Xaden’s little sister. And now you’re telling me that you… that you’ve felt the same way?”

His gaze snaps to mine, his expression a mix of hope and disbelief. “You… you feel the same?”

I nod, my chest tightening as the words spill out. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Garrick. But I thought you’d never… I thought it wasn’t possible.”

He takes a step toward me, his hand reaching out to cup my cheek. “You have no idea how hard it’s been, keeping my distance. Watching you with Oren last night, I just… I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“And today?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “On the mat?” “I wanted him to know,” he admits, his thumb brushing against my skin. “That you’re not just some girl to flirt with. That you’re… everything to me.”

I can’t help the tears that well in my eyes as I lean into his touch. “Then stop keeping your distance,” I whisper. “I’m right here.”

He doesn’t hesitate. His lips find mine in a kiss that’s both fierce and tender, years of longing and unspoken words pouring into that one moment. His arms wrap around me, pulling me close, and for the first time, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.

When we finally pull apart, his forehead rests against mine, his breath warm against my skin. “You’re my everything,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

I smile, my heart lighter than it’s ever been. “You’ve already done enough,” I whisper. “But I wouldn’t mind seeing you try.”

♤

[eupheme]

okay but someone (you !!!) should write a cute little oneshot of that tik tok trend where you call logan your boyfriend (even though he’s your husband) and he is just not!!! happy!!! and all pouty about it !!!

ORRRRR (if not maybe both 👀) one where Logan is your boyfriend and you call him your husband and he just melts and is so happy to be around you and in your presence

everything you do is amazing!!! 💖💖💖

ooh hi hi anon! I’ve seen this trend and it’s so cute to think about Logan being like ‼️ about it - I did a little drabble for each scenario! I hope you like them! 💖 (and ahh, thank you so much!)

little games | logan howlett x f!reader

800 words | logan pov, fluff, possessive thoughts

After another long shift, your smile is all he needs.

Unable to help the tired curve of his lips as he hears your voice - the “hi honey” that you coo, from where you lean against the kitchen counter.

Phone tucked against your ear, a notebook and colorful pens splayed out in front of you.

“Sound goods, Saturday is great. Listen, I gotta go-,” Your attention pulls from him, though his eyes linger as he crouches - working on the laces of his boots.

Standing, just as he hears the rest of your goodbye.

“-my husband just got home.”

He almost trips.

Warmth floods through him, a cock of his head as he wonders if he misheard.

But his senses always had been keen.

“Mhmm.” You hum - as he slowly crosses the room. Coming up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist just as you wrap up your call.

Unable to help the tilt of his head - pressing his lips against your neck. Inhaling you, that pretty layer of scents that now linger in his home.

Something stirs, as he lets his mind run free.

“Yep,” You squirm, your hand layering over his, “See you then. Bye!”

He only gives you just enough space to twist yourself around. Still pinning you against the counter, his eyes darkened.

“Hi.” You smile, tipping your lips up to his, “Missed you.”

It’s murmured back, just as his mouth presses to yours. Sweet, when his tongue licks against your lip, his hands slipping up to cradle your jaw.

Letting himself imagine, for just a minute. Still quiet, when you pull away - the mark between his brow deepening.

Never one to beat around the bush, the words slipping before he can think too much about it.

“Called me your husband.” He husks, “You know that?”

He should catch that you’re not caught off-guard. That there’s almost a guilty flicker in your eye, before you’re inhaling a breath.

Head tilting to match his. His eyes dropping to where your tongue peeks out to wet your lip.

“Sorry, baby. Must have slipped up,” You shrug, shyly, “Did it bother you?”

The name curls in his chest, slipping around his ribs. Only adding to the flicker of desire, the soft warmth that’s settled beneath his skin.

“No.” He husks.

Dipping to kiss you again. Hips pressing flush, the curving ridge of his jeans indicating exactly how it made him feel.

“Not when it’s you saying it.”

Logan never really minds meeting the people you grew friendly with.

You attract them in a way he never did. Picking up the names of everyone in the apartment complex long before he does. The couple that live on the floor above. The old man and his dog three doors down.

Your hand patting his chest, as you stop to chat with an older woman at the base of the stairs.

“You remember Logan, right?” You ask her, “My boyfriend.”

And suddenly, he minds. Head whipping towards you so quickly his neck almost cracks.

Eyebrow arching as the women - Gladys - coos over them, the words petering out to white noise as he frowns.

“Husband.” Logan cuts in, gruffly - the gold glinting off his finger as he reaches out to shake her hand.

You giggle. Gladys only exclaims - and it’s all he can do to keep his jaw from clenching so hard his teeth crack.

A hand at your back, already guiding you towards the apartment before your goodbyes are finished. Backing you against the door the second it’s shut, as you blink up at him.

“Tryin’ to be cute?” He asks - and he can hear the edge in his voice, “Another one of your little games?”

Knows he hit the nail on the head when your teeth sink into your lip. Biting back a smile, as your voice pitches up.

“What do you mean?”

He huffs. Hands flattening against the wood - seeing how your eyes go wide as he leans in.

“Calling me your boyfriend.” Logan grits out, “When we both know how fucking eager you were to take my name.”

How wet it makes you, when he has you beneath him. Fingers entwined, a matching ring around yours.

There’s hunger in your eyes. His lips ghosting against yours - pulling away just as you lean to kiss him.

“Uh-uh.” His head shakes, “What am I?”

You pout, but he only hums - expectant. Possessive.

Logan’s voice dropping low.

“Come on, baby.” He coaxes, “Lemme hear you say it.”

Your scent blooms sweet, and he almost groans. Lets your lips press against his this time, your answer breathed out.

“My husband.”

“That’s my girl.” He smirks.

Kissing you soundly, then.

Already imaging how the cool press of his ring will feel when he’s got three fingers buried deep inside you.

Maybe then you won’t ‘forget’.

[myownwholewildworld]

DARKEST DESIRES ― a Boston QZ!Joel oneshot

main masterlist | ao3 pairing: Boston QZ!Joel x f!reader. summary: you promised Joel something he's been thirsting after for a while ― your ass. so you decide to make good on said promise. a/n: am i sick? probably. undoubtedly, really. this is a sequel to A Dark Summon, but it can totally be read independently. this was prompted by this kind ask (love you, nonnie). also, do you remember that post about frankie morales saying "big stretch"? WELL, YEAH (sorry, meant to tag it but i lost it!). anyways, please heed the warnings! comments and reblogs appreciated to keep the thots thotting <3 take care! x warnings: 18+, mdni. sexual roleplay (cnc). mind the hefty age gap (reader is 19, joel is 56, oopsie). pet names (kiddo, daddy's girl, little girl, etc). sir/daddy kink. dom!joel, sub!reader (possibly some ddlg dynamics). slut shaming. unprotected piv. squirting. sleepy blowjob (consensual somno). breath play. sex toys (dildo, butt plug). mention of rimming. joel (the birthday boy) fucks your virginal ass, anal sex (faked painal). reader is a blank slate with no backstory, has hair. dual pov. no use of y/n. w/c: ~5.4k. divider by @\cafekitsune

You were so nervous, your hands were shaking with excitement.

Living in Boston’s QZ was not easy, and trading was even worse. Because you were young―just turned nineteen a couple of months ago―dealers tried to take advantage of you, asking for more than they would to other people. But you were smart and the moment you learnt that dropping Joel’s name in conversation would actually give you a discount, you used that tactic frequently.

Most people in Boston were too preoccupied with life to be gossiping about the age difference between Joel and you, but there were some that would scan you from head to toe several times with disdain. Some with jealousy, others with horror.

“She’s too young, could be his daughter.”

“He’s too old, bet he can’t keep up with her.”

“She’s too young, it’s indecent.”

“He’s too old, I’m sure that little girl can’t satisfy him like I would.”

“She’s too young, no wonder why she’s always cheating on him.”

“He’s too old, I don’t know what he’s seen in her.”

You had heard it all. And you couldn’t care less. Joel, on the other hand, was a bit more sensitive when people criticized you ��� like a guard dog protecting its prey. The relationship between the two of you was private, except for the times that you would hook up with a random guy in an alley with Joel attentively spying on you from the shadows.

He liked to watch, and you liked being watched. In your eyes, it was a match made in heaven. It never went further than a hand job, and you never let them touch your pussy ― Joel was extremely possessive of her. He enjoyed the look on their stupid faces whenever you pulled away, leaving them dumbfounded in the brink of an orgasm, and you would run to him, all giddy and ready to finish him off right there and then.

It was lewd, obscene, but you loved it. And so did he. Joel had shown you a whole new world when he took your virginity almost a year ago. Since then, you had been insatiable, too eager to be fucked stupid by your old man. Your daddy.

Every day you would sneak out and come over to his place to be pumped full of his cum, to have him drill you until you forgot your name and your legs wouldn’t keep you upright. And then you would go back home, spent yet satisfied, with your pussy full to the brim and your panties drenched with your mixed arousal.

Today though you were planning on spending the night here. It was Joel’s birthday and you had planned a special surprise for him. One that had cost you, but the price was definitely worth it.

You knew how avid Joel was about fucking your ass ― he almost reminded you daily. He had been preparing you for when the time came, some mild anal play to get you going. Last night, as Joel ate your asshole out, you promised to yourself that you wouldn’t postpone it anymore and today would be the day. What better present for Joel than your virginal ass?

So here you were, all naked and squeaky clean for him. You had draped a red ribbon around your waist. A big, scarlet bow laid low on the small of your back, making it obvious what his gift was. You also had a smaller parcel, all wrapped up with some old newspapers.

The moment you heard the front door creak, your heart jolted with anticipation and your stomach flipped. Turning around to face away from him, you dropped to your knees and leaned forward until your forehead rested on the floor and your knees touched your chest ― your ass on full display for him.

“Kiddo?” he called.

Joel’s brows furrowed deeper when he didn’t hear a reply. He knew you were here, your recognisable scent betraying your presence. Confused, he walked the small hallway and entered the living room.

His eyes immediately fell to where you were positioned, and a rush of hot blood coursed through his veins like liquid fire, all the way down to his groin. You had knelt and bent over, your perky ass up in the air for him to admire. A red bow topped your ass cheeks, the meaning of all this becoming instantly clear.

With a sly grin, Joel rubbed his palms together, taking a step forward.

“You’ve not forgotten about my birthday, have you, sugar?” he croaked, raspy and hoarse.

“No, sir, I haven’t,” you murmured, wiggling your ass a bit for him.

Joel groaned, the tension in his pants growing tighter, while he knelt behind you. The offer was irresistible, the way your flesh jiggled commended him to smack both of your buttocks. You whimpered, your back arching some more and your crack pulling further apart.

His fingers twitched with need, grabbing a handful of your meat. Joel was mesmerised by the view ― your puckered entrance so very inviting, and your beautiful seam glistening with slick right below.

Unable to refrain himself, his index dipped in the warmth of your damp pussy, tracing it entirely until the pad caught on your beating clit. You sighed heavily, melting under his digit.

“Why are you all wet already? Have you been playing with yourself?” he questioned, voice laced with lustful anger.

“Yes, sorry, sir. I was thinking about you, about what is gonna happen tonight, and… mhmm…” you hiccupped when he flicked your clit, “I did finger myself, but I didn’t come, I promise.”

Joel’s chest rumbled, frustrated. His orders were clear ― no touching yourself, nothing at all, even if you were horny. He wanted you needy and ready to take his cock when he came home from a rough day of patrol.

“How many fingers?” he barked, pinching your hooded clit between his index and middle fingers. You wailed in mild pain, your hips bucking up and away from his touch, but Joel didn’t release your thudding button.

“Just the one. Just the pinky, I swear. I know you like my pussy tight and unstretched, sir,” your sob transformed into a moan when his thumb found your trapped clit.

“Attagirl,” Joel rasped. “I don’t want your cunt all used and loose, you’re too young to feel like an old hag around my cock.” His thumb pressed tight circles on your pebbled nub before he removed his hand from your pussy. “I will let it slide. This one time.”

The warning in his tone made you nod vehemently, as you looked over your shoulder to him. Your bottom lip was trembling, your doe eyes pleading.

“Do you forgive me, sir?”

Joel gave you a stern look before he slapped your ass cheek, and you winced in response.

“I’ll think about it, kiddo,” he already had, but wouldn’t tell you yet.

“What can I do to help you make up your mind, sir?” a single tear skidded through your cheek, bottom lip still quivering.

Joel loved how easy you would tear up, you were a natural when it came to acting.

“There’s this one thing I have in mind,” Joel muttered, his thumb ghosting your butthole. “So clean, sugar. Can’t fucking wait to dive in.”

“I washed myself really well for you, sir. I used an enema too,” you whispered, averting your eyes shyly.

“So no messy sex?” Joel almost sounded disappointed, but he was just toying with you.

“No, I couldn’t, sir,” you bit down your bottom lip, eyes shut and the apples of your face burning with shame, when the pad of his thumb gently pressed the tight ring in your crack. “Oh…”

“You like that, don’t you? All this time denying me my right to fuck your ass, and now look at ya, begging to have your butthole impaled. Did rimming your tight ass yesterday change your mind?”

You shook your head yes eagerly and pushed your hips backwards until your ass was resting on his lap, thumb still stroking you right where you needed. You rubbed your buttocks against his jeans, your weeping seam sliding on his zipper.

“I-I loved it. I’m s-so ready now, sir,” you stuttered, pouting when he stood up.

“You poor little thing. Let’s break this seal then, shall we? But I need you to work me hard first.”

Joel moved towards the couch, and you followed him, walking on all fours behind him as if you were his little doggy. Next time, he would get you a collar and a leash, he thought as he sat down, and the old cushion gave way under him.

He coaxed his legs apart to make room for you between his thighs. You didn’t need any further instructions: you were already unbuckling his belt, your tiny hand dipping in his underwear to release his flaccid cock. His dick was still soft, just started to harden a few minutes ago.

Leaning forward, you pulled back the skin on his shaft and kissed the reddened tip. Then your tongue twirled around his cockhead, slurping sloppily as you bobbed your head down his length. Joel felt his dick growing harder, bigger in your warm mouth, and he groaned with satisfaction.

You loved how Joel’s soft cock would slowly stiffen between your lips, how his weight would grow heavier on your tongue as you sucked him off. Although you played to be submissive to him, this was a reminder of the actual power you held over him. Not only a reminder to yourself, but also to him. Despite being fifty-six, you were able to work Joel hard in a couple of minutes with the brush of your tongue and the seal of your plump lips. You were proud of it.

“What’s all this?” Joel asked as he leaned over, his chest pushing your throat further down on his now throbbing cock.

Your partner grabbed the box you had wrapped from the coffee table, along with the ashtray and a cigar you almost had to sell your soul for.

“Your other present, sir,” you managed to mumble, mouth full of his hard erection.

Your saliva skidded down his veiny shaft, pooling on the thick, dark curls at the base of his cock.

“I didn’t say stop. Keep sucking, kiddo,” his reproach scolded you, and quickly resumed your job.

You heard him lighting the cigar and then tearing the newspaper apart, while you took in as many inches as you could. Now that you had felt a few cocks on the palm of your hand, Joel’s had no rival. He was so gifted, and you felt lucky you were the one getting it all for yourself.

He’d been training you to swallow him whole, and practice made perfect. So after a couple more dives, your lips reached the base as the underside of his cock dragged easily along your tongue.

Your eyes welled up due to the strain and you suppressed the gag reflex, the fluttering of your throat around his girth making Joel moan. His left hand landed on the back of your head, pushing you down.

“Your mouth was made for me, sugar,” he praised you and you revelled in his compliment, swaying your hips sideways.

He placed the box on your back and opened it. You couldn’t see him but knew his face expression would light up with a sinful smirk.

Joel cackled and smacked one of your round globes, careful of not messing up the cute bow.

“Oh, you dirty slut.”

Joel pulled you off his erection by tugging at your hair. By the way his brown eyes took you in, you had to be a pretty picture ― messy hair and makeup, swollen lips, your skin glistening from your nose down to your chin with his precum and your spit.

One of his hands was holding a small butt plug. It was made of black silicone, pointier and ridged. It had four inches of insertable length, and the diameter was one inch thick.

Joel let out a whistle.

“You traded for this?” you nodded, batting your eyelashes at him. “Good fucking girl.”

He leaned forward to kiss you, his lips demanding and fierce. Your tangled tongues fought with each other, but Joel always won, subduing you quickly.

Both his hands roamed your bare body, rough calloused palms caressing your cold skin, which bristled under his touch. Joel traced your underboob, then suddenly pinched both of your taut nipples and pulled.

You flinched, a thunder of pain radiating from your tits all the way down to your pussy. Wet, sticky heat pooled between your thighs, clit pulsing and hole clenching around nothing. How could pain turn you on so fucking much?

“Move your pretty ass to the bedroom, kiddo,” Joel commanded.

Springing to your feet, you obeyed, leading the way to his bed. The room was dark and bare, with no personal items anywhere to be seen. Joel kept to himself, sharing little snippets of his life when he felt like it. You never pushed for information, knowing that he would open up at his own pace.

Putting on your best innocent gaze, you turned around to face him once you were at the foot of the bed.

“Can we play rough… daddy, please?” the term slipped from your tongue accidentally.

You covered your mouth at the realisation ― you’d never called him daddy, not out loud. In your mind you had done so several times, but you were not able to gauge how Joel would react if you did.

You were about to find out.

Joel growled at you, one broad hand wrapping around your throat ― his fingers dug on the sides of your neck. Tilting your chin up, you gasped, your hips lurching forward until they pressed against his erect dick.

“Who’s your daddy, kiddo?” Joel groaned, grazing your chin with his teeth.

“Y-you, daddy,” you replied, slowly understanding that despite his aggressive reaction, he actually liked it. “Joel Miller is my daddy.”

“Damn right I am,” he snarled like an animal. He hovered the anal plug over your mouth, “Open.” Joel slotted it between your lips. “Suck on it, daddy’s girl needs her pacifier for what’s to come. Don’t want the neighbours coming over to check if I’ve killed someone.”

When he turned you around and pushed you towards the bed, you knew the game was on. Your shins hit the metal bedframe; with another push from Joel on your shoulders, you fell face first on the unkempt bed.

“No, daddy, please, no,” you began whimpering around the plug, squirming as he sank a knee into the mattress.

Joel grabbed both of your wrists with the span of one broad hand and pressed them onto the small of your back. He tilted forward, his weeping glans gliding on your sticky slit a few times. He tapped your clit four times with his cockhead, the last tap harsher than the others, and then he stabbed your clenching hole.

You writhed under him, audibly crying now, when the tip of his cock kissed your cervix. You forced tears to fall down your cheeks and mouthed a scream around the butt plug in your mouth.

“It hurts!” you feigned a painful wail, when in reality your pussy was fluttering around his gifted circumference with delight.

Joel groaned above you, buried down to the hilt, and placed his free hand on the back of your head. Then he pushed your skull down into the mattress, almost smothering you as you tried to gasp for air.

“Shut up, you bitch. Take it,” his hips snapped back, cock almost sliding out of your cunt, and then forced his way into your pussy again.

Your old man picked up a relentless pace, the nasty, sucking sound of your wetness reverberating in the room as Joel fucked you stupid, drilling you into the bed like a man possessed.

Joel freed your wrists for his left thumb to find your empty rimmed hole. He started stroking it slowly again, and you squeezed your sphincter at the touch. Unhurriedly, he worked your butthole until your muscles relaxed, then took the opportunity to ploddingly insert the first phalange in your ass.

Seeing stars behind your eyes, your hips involuntarily jerked up, swallowing the second phalange of his thumb. When Joel began pumping your tight ass with his digit, your pussy palpitated around his cock.

“You like that, don’tcha? Nasty, stupid little girl,” Joel groaned, his thrusts unforgiving whilst his thick finger twirled inside you.

You hummed loudly around the butt plug, feeling lightheaded and dizzy due to the lack of oxygen, but also to the intense pleasure, one you had not felt before.

“Mhm-mm-mhmmm-mhmmmmm,” the crescendo in your mumbling plea peaked, your lungs now burning.

Then Joel released his purchase on your hair, and your neck snapped back as you mouthed for air. Your heartrate spiked, even feeling it in your gums. Joel’s unabating shoves along with his devilish thumb finally sent you over the edge and you jumped off the cliff of your pleasure blindly. Your throbbing pussy clamped around his cock like a vice, the wave of your climax drowning you as Joel fucked you through it.

With toes curling, eyes glassy and drool falling off the corners of your busy mouth, all your muscles went suddenly limp. Your spent cunt still quivered around Joel’s dick, who hadn’t stopped jackhammering into you with renewed vigour.

Hastily, Joel pulled back and out of the heat of your tight pussy, digging up his thumb in the process too. One more second and he would have spilt inside. While he was sure he could have another erection, even at fifty-six, he rather not risk it.

His rough hand wrapped around his cockhead, reining in the need to come.

“Fuck, you almost got me there, sugar,” he cackled, running his hand down his face.

You didn’t reply. You were sprawled across his bedsheets like a fuck toy, your thighs still trembling with the aftershock of your orgasm. Joel was sure that even without the butt plug in your mouth, you would not have been able to string two coherent words together.

His lustful eyes lingered on the red bow crowning the swell of your buttocks. He was dying to untie it, to unwrap his most precious present and make good use of it. But first he needed you ready.

“Gimme that,” he uncurled his hand in front of your mouth, and you spat out the butt plug.

Standing firm behind you, he teased your pursed hole with the silicone tip. You stirred at the touch but were so out of tune with your own body, you didn’t fight him. He twisted the plug around, circling in your orifice. Slowly it went in, and when it bottomed out, your eyes snapped open, and you grizzled.

“Stay put,” he ordered you, stepping back.

Joel admired how the handle stuck out, peeking between your round globes. With a huff, he stroked his length as he walked towards the nightstand. Opened the drawer and pulled out your favourite pink dildo. It was slim and slightly curved ― you loved how the tip always hit the right spot inside your pussy.

He retraced his steps back to the foot of the bed and slid the toy between your clammy flaps, wetting it with your juices. You squirmed at the cold touch but relaxed when you realised what it was.

“Gonna have both holes full to the fucking brim, babydoll,” he mocked you sneeringly, wedging the dildo in your crying pussy until it snugly sat inside. “She’s so greedy.”

“Daddy, please, I can’t. I’m hurting,” you pleaded, sobbed even.

“I don’t fucking care. I’ll fuck your ass through the pain. A gift is a gift, kiddo,” he mumbled darkly.

Joel followed along and would not stop unless you said, “you piece of shit.” That was the agreement, the safe words you would use if you really started feeling insufferable pain. So far, you hadn’t spoken the words, giving him free rein to do with you as he pleased.

Looking at you with your perky ass up with the satin bow on top, a dildo in your weeping cunt and the butt plug poking out of your asshole, he knew himself a lucky bastard. How you fully trusted him, giving in to his darkest desires and coming up with your own. The last year had been a revelation for both of you ― you matched his freak so well.

To hell with what people thought, you were everything he had been looking for.

Fisting the base of his thudding cock, he slowly removed the anal plug, the pop sound enticing. Joel watched your open hole squeezing again until it puckered in your fold. He was mesmerised imagining how your walls would feel around him.

“Fuck,” he muttered, biting down his bottom lip.

Hypnotised, Joel pushed the plug back in your butt, slowly and steadily, watching eagerly how your rimmed entrance swallowed the beads.

“No, daddy, it hurts. Please, take it out,” you begged him with a small, breathless voice.

“Shut the fuck up,” he warned you.

With one hand he pumped the dildo, dragging the pointy tip along your anterior wall to hit the spongy spot of your pleasure, and the other performed similar motions with the butt plug.

You mewled like a kitten, your passion ringing in his ears like he was high on drugs. Seeing you like this, all pliable and surrendered, had him on the brink of coming ― teetering on the edge, precum sliding down his shaft.

When you started humping the bedsheets, causing friction in your unattended clit, Joel knew you were close to another climax. Feeling considerate, he let you chase your own high, both of his hands working the sex toys in your holes.

“I― Good fucking lord, I’m… com… I’m coming, daddy. C-can I…?” you asked for his permission, his chest swelling at your request.

“Yeah, kiddo. Come for daddy,” he rasped, feeling drunk on your ecstasy.

You finally let go again, your whole body quivering like a leaf falling off a tree. He saw your inner labia squeezing the dildo and for a second Joel regretted it wasn’t his cock ― how good it would feel to have your fluttering pussy hug him tight.

But he had to persevere. The gift was worth it.

As your body still adjusted to the aftermath, Joel pulled out the butt plug carefully. The toy slid out easily, and he watched again how your hole stretched back to its normal size.

Throwing the plug to one side on the bed, Joel untied the red, satin bow on your lower back with steady fingers, taking in the moment. He felt like a mayor inaugurating a new building, presenting it to the press. This building was only his to dilapidate. The ribbon fell through his fingers.

Joel slipped one hand between your thighs, caressing around the dildo to gather some of your slick and gently buttering it into your rimmed opening. You said nothing ― eyes shut and mouth agape, it was almost as if you were peacefully sleeping.

He repeated the process a few times, but felt it wasn’t enough. Bending down, he spat in your ass until his mouth was dry. Then positioned his weeping cock right in the fold of your ass and pressed your buttocks together to hump your butt crack. Again, you didn’t react, your drool pooling on the bedsheets.

“What a fucking sight,” he said under his breath, the tip of his girthy dick finally hitching in your asshole.

Slowly he pushed the glans in, then back out, then back in, testing the waters. You squirmed a little, your brows furrowing innocently and your nose scrunching.

“Biiiiig stretch, kiddo,” he managed to groan between gritted teeth, jaw painfully clenched as his cock finally burrowed in your puckered entrance.

That was when your glassy eyes snapped open, and both your hands fisted the bedsheets.

“DADDY!” you screamed at the top of your lungs.

It was hot and tight inside, very soft too, sweat gathering on his brow in concentration. Your sphincter crushed his hard cock and Joel felt like losing control over his own actions.

Another piercing shriek from you brought him back, his hips slowly working your hole with his length. He was only halfway in, you still had a few inches to take.

“You pie― Ohhhh, ah, mhmm…” his hand was quick to find the pebbled nub in your slit, petting it gently, pressing tight circles.

The distraction worked, because soon enough his dick was fully sitting in your ass. Joel pulled back, then back in, guiding your movements by pressing his free hand on your belly, holding your waist up and moving you with him. His right ring and middle fingers stroked your pearly clit relentlessly ― you were melting again.

This was heaven. Fucking heaven, he thought. How the muscles in your ass contracted around him, making him feel woozy. How you keened. How he just knew your pussy was fluttering around your pink dildo. How your clit was extremely wet, his fingers almost slipping on your velvety skin, almost unable to catch on your button.

It wasn’t painful, it was extremely overwhelming. Your mind felt like a spongy cloud, completely blissed out. Your soul had literally left your body, that was how empty your brain was. You were so full ― the dildo cozily inside you, Joel’s girthy cock blasting your entrails without a pause. Having him fully seated in your asshole was the most euphoric experience you had ever lived ― your pulse adjusted to his, two hearts beating as one.

It was too much, but it could be even more. Slithering one hand between your body and the bed, you found the dildo. Slowly you rocked it in and out of your damp pussy ― when Joel pulled out, you pushed in.

Elated, little, pathetic sobs escaped your mouth ― real, blissful tears wetting your cheeks, whimpering as your puffy lips wolfed down the pink toy. Your clit felt on fucking fire, Joel’s fingers fondling it to a point where you thought you might actually die.

You were coming again ― Joel could fucking feel it in his bones. Only this time, you squirted all over him, the warm liquid running down his thighs like a cascade whilst your whole body quaked uncontrollably.

“Oh my! Daddy! DADDY!” you wailed as he fucked you through it, hips almost stuttering now. “I can feel you in my guts! OH, FUCKING HELL!”

That was fucking it. With a guttural groan, Joel finally came, thick, sticky ropes spilling in your ass, painting your walls white. For a minute, he kept on filling you with his cum, cock maddingly twitching inside you. He closed his eyes and heavily sighed, as if the biggest weight had been taken off his shoulders.

By the time he was done, Joel was heaving, his chest rising in quick succession. That had been the best sex he’d ever had, and he was no novice like you. God, even his legs were trembling with effort.

Joel smacked both your ass cheeks as you plummeted onto the bed, a stupid grin curling the corners of your sinful mouth. You rolled to your side to look at him ― a fucked-out expression, your eyes hazy, sweaty hair sticking to your face.

The way you lazily smiled at him made his heart skip a beat.

“That was… something else,” you whispered, half asleep, totally spent.

Joel couldn’t help but chortle.

“I told you, kiddo,” he said, manoeuvring you back onto your belly so he could watch his semen gushing out your ass. “Squeeze your butthole for me, babydoll. Get it all out.”

You obeyed, all his cum slowly trickling out until your ass was empty.

“Good girl,” he praised you.

He admired the view for a hot minute ― you were a dewy mess, tangled in his bedsheets, with the pink dildo still poking out your sweet pussy. So tight, he thought, your slick cunt wouldn’t release it even when he gently tugged at it. Joel didn’t have the heart to take such comfort away from you yet, so he left the dildo in.

Joel disappeared into the bathroom after that to shower quickly. Then grabbed some wet towels and went back to the bedroom, naked as you were, to find you soundly asleep in an odd position.

He cleaned you up ― first your sweaty face, then your upper body. Joel coaxed your legs apart and couldn’t resist the urge to bow down and press a sweet kiss to your clit, slowly extracting the dildo from your pussy.

You hummed in your sleep, jaw slack and snoring lightly.

“The best daddy’s girl one could ask for,” he purred before resuming the task of rubbing your cunt and your ass clean. Joel was extremely diligent with your hygiene and care.

There was a big puddle on his bedsheets, right where your pussy had been leaking all along. He’d deal with that in the morning, didn’t want to wake you up now ― you needed the rest.

Joel sauntered towards the living room, seizing the forgotten cigar and the ashtray. Then returned to bed, and dragged your body up the bed until your head was resting on his lap. You unconsciously nuzzled his soft dick, your hot breath fanning the thick curls at the base.

Joel raked his fingers through your hair as he took a puff, the cigar crackling.

“You’re gonna be the end of me, kiddo.”

In your sleep, you stirred ― your plump, cherry lips caressing his base. Joel’s head slacked back against the headboard as he smoked.

“Fuck,” he cursed himself, feeling his dick harden again.

You were giving him no option ― there was nothing worse than going to bed with a hard-on. Joel knew you wouldn’t want that for him.

His fingers left your scalp, took one more puff and placed the cigar down on the ashtray. Joel cupped your chin, tilting your head up and back, while his other hand guided the slick tip of his cock to your lips. The moment your mouth was in contact with his dick, instinctually you suckled on his pearly glans.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Joel gritted, voice gravelly. “That’s it, be a good little girl for daddy.”

Joel gently rocked his hips under you, only the tip disappearing between your sinful lips ― he didn’t want to wake you, not when you looked like an angel right now.

This was a recurrent dream of yours. Most nights, you found yourself drifting away and thinking about your old man’s beautiful dick. It was soothing when you latched onto his glans, just like you were doing right now ― unbeknownst to you.

In your dream, your tongue pressed against the slit on his throbbing cockhead while your lips would seal around it to suck on it. Then his underside would slide along your tongue, kissing your palate gently. Sometimes you would stop, glans sitting warmly in your mouth, and the hand resting on his thigh would find the soft balls underneath to massage them delicately. Then your tongue would resume its petting.

Heat peaked inside your mouth, and that made you scowled slightly. Smacking your lips together, sleepily, you realised that there was something warm and sticky pooling in your mouth.

Your eyes fluttered open, still drowsy, and found Joel’s darkened ones. Your head was resting on his lap, the palm of his hand caressing your cheek while his thumb stroked your chin. Sluggishly, you smiled at him, rubbing one eye with the back of your hand.

“Sorry to wake you,” he apologised before he took a drag of the cigar. “Swallow daddy’s gift, sugar.”

His words made you realise that what you had in your mouth was his cum. Your grin grew wider as the tasty seed of Joel slid down your throat. You liked it when he took what was his without asking.

“Attagirl. Now back to sleep, kiddo. It’s past your bedtime,” he commended you, and you nodded absentmindedly.

Nudging his dick and tucking your hands under his thigh, you pressed a soft kiss on his cockhead, then closed your eyes.

“Thank you,” you sighed contently, to both Joel and his dick.

[sglossmin]

Muse | MYG

Plot: What happens when the man you practically simp over in high school, is right now, sitting across you after almost 10 years of not seeing him? Worse? You're here for an appointment for therapy and he's your psychologist.

Pairing: SeniorStudent!Yoongi x JuniorStudent!Reader ---> Psychologist! Yoongi x Artist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, slight age gap, slice of life, a bit of angst, schoolmates to lovers(?)

Warnings: talks about mental and death...erm lemme know if you found any disturbing heh

Word count: dunno

A/N: This is...actually some sort of based irl looll (only the high school scenes, most of it) This is my first one shot work! Let me know if I'm lacking something. The current series that I'm still working rn is still not even half finished T_T T_T So I thought I might give it a try---write a oneshot heh I just started here to write in tumblr so I still don't know that much stuff. Feel free to comment so I can improve!! Ik some of those thing weren't even a thing at that time...

"Shit..." I muttered right as I saw the man in a white coat, a clipboard in his arms while his hair softly falls down in his brows, reading his next patient's data. Just like the last time I saw him. Weird, huh? It's been years, yet... he still looks just the same.

Our eyes met, for the first time in a while. He frowned, it was so subtle and fast, no one would even know. But I did. Every little actions that he did, I always notice it. No matter what. I keep saying that the Y/n who just hit her puberty is no longer me, yet with my emotions right now, I can feel like my hormones are all over the place.

"Sit down," he smiled, gesturing the seat across him.

His voice so deep it sounds like soothing lullaby... Eyes so tired that I can tell he works so well... The warmth in his smile makes my heart skip a beat, forgetting why am I here in the first place...

Snap of it!

It took me a second to realize that I stared at him for too long. I cleared my throat, wishing my embarrassment would also go away. I smiled as I took the seat.

Our session ended without him saying that he at least recognize me. Did it made me upset? Yeah... sort of. I mean, I didn't go there and paid him to reminisce our high school days, but still...

I huffed as I crumpled a paper.

"Ugh! Really? Y/n? Still drawing him?"

I uncrumpled it and stared at the newly drawing for a while. I leaned back in my chair and sighed... "I'll give it to him. He looks hot in that coat." I chuckled and stuck the paper back in my notebook. "I'm keeping it because I drew him too good, not that I still like him or anything. That would be just so stupid."

Ha! Right! Nothing else. I smiled, pleased with how I gaslight myself.

I stretched my back and arms. My body ached for having a shrimp position for a long time.

And before I know it, I fell asleep (again) in my studio.

Summer 2010

Our last subject just finished and it's still raining heavily. I have no umbrella so my friends and I were forced to run. Reaching the covered court, I groaned. "Why call it summer when it rains this heavy??"

"Do they really think—us—high school students are waterproof?" Exclaimed by Sana while Chaeyoung just chuckled beside us. Our clothes were pretty wet but not that drenched.

We went upstage since there's some chair in there. Putting our bags down, we wait for the rain to stop. Us juniors only have to spend half day in the campus. Lucky, huh?

"Stay here, hm? You both can't leave me just because you guys have umbrella to share and your house are close." I glared at the both of them while they just snickered. They won't leave me otherwise, I know that.

It's been an hour, yet the rain don't seem to plan on stopping. It's about 1 now, we think. Seems like we're the only junior students in the campus. Suddenly, the seniors from the front building went outside. They went in the cover court. They were wearing some sort of costumes. It was ridiculous—Okay, not really. They seemed like they're going to dance.

We sat still from above across them and watch them prepare.

"Hey, Chae, wanna play?" I grinned as I whispered. Sana was too occupied with her phone that's why it was just the two of us who played.

We played Smash or Pass with every senior guy that I pointed. Until finally, I pointed it to the guy who's wearing a Thai hat(?) The gold ones, it seems like part of their costume.

"Hm... Smash!" Chaeyoung laughed and I did too. Cause miraculously, SAME.

We had a great laugh realizing we'd say smash.

We watched them dance and sing along with the music that were playing. Thinking about it, we might actually look like idiots. They can practically see us sing and dance with them since we're upstage.

After a while, I asked Chae, "What nickname should we give him?" It's our thing. Giving nicknames to people whether they look good or annoying. I think it's every friend groups should do.

"He looks like a cat and his eyes disappear too when he smiles... Kitty?"

"Kitty...?" Sounds weird so I proposed to change it. "What about Neko? Same meaning but doesn't sound weird." She agreed and since then, we called him Neko. With his sharp eyes and pale tone, he does looks like a kitty.

Few moments after, we planned a scheme. We went down to compare our height to his. We walked towards him as if we were just passing by and about to go to the canteen instead.

My and Chae's eyes went wide open. Gasping and staring at each other, the signal were sent.

Gosh, he's tall.

Oh gosh, he is.

A day or two passed since that. We randomly saw him when we went to buy in the canteen.

Then again.

And again.

And again.

Untill a few days have been passed and I keep on seeing him. To the point that... maybe... just maybe, it wasn't really a coincidence anymore.

New character unlocked?

When we were about to go back in our room, we met Hani. My bestfriend in elementary days.

"Y/n! Come here! Imma show you something. Actually—no—It's a someone." Hani dragged me and Chae went along with me.

Hani rant about how this guy looks so good, that in the first time in a while, they found someone who actually looks good in this campus.

Chae and I eyed each other. Were we thinking who we're thinking?

As we reached the third floor of the first year's building, across it was the senior's building. We stopped our track right in front of the exact room. The windows were open and from our spot, we can literally see him studying.

"Neko?"

"You know him?" Hani asked in which I nod.

I think we just found our sweet spot.

Chae and I sometimes went up there just to catch a glimpse of him. It was stupid and fun.

Until that day came.

As usual, Chae and I went to the third floor once again. We stayed in the balcony that faces their room. It was break time so everyone was all over the place. Then I felt it. Chae poked my side and pointed my front. I frowned and followed her finger. There was it, his teacher raising her brow at me. Then his classmates turned their heads toward me... 'till lastly, he did. Everyone was looking at ME. I noticed Chae was hiding on the wall divider of the balcony. I looked back at the teacher who's still looking at me.

"Do you need anything, Ms?" We were quite far but it was still audible.

"H-huh..?" That was all I could muster. It was even barely a whisper. My mouth was slightly open due to not knowing what to do nor say. It lasted like that for a few more seconds. Until I mustered all the courage and pride I have left in my body and shrugged it off and walked away. Frowning as if they got it wrong and I was simply hanging out there.

Walk

Walk

RUN

I went back to our room as soon as I noticed Chae was following me. When we get back, we were panting and sweating. Our classmates looked at us with weird looks. Not that I can blame them. One of our classmate asked us and we did tell the story.

It was our last time going in there.

I felt someone flick my head. I groaned in annoyance.

"Noona, wake up!"

I grumbled as I sit up straight, realizing I fell asleep in the studio again.

"You know you don't have to flick me. Between the two of us, I'm the light sleeper." I mumbled while my eyes were focusing on the big guy in front of me.

He rolled his eyes at me. Up to this day, I wondered who did he got it from. "Eomma wants you to eat lunch with us."

I chuckled. "Your mother did? Wow, what a pleasure." I sassed.

He groaned and plopped himself at the couch. "Can't believe you still resent her."

"Kook, what kind of a daughter am I if I don't?"

Jungkook threw a pillow to me as he stood up. "Still. Eat with us."

And just like that, he walked away.

Life goes on, that's what they say.

I must've been nuts for going to therapy yesterday. It's not like, I'm seriously depressed.

Right..?

Living alone in the house that came from the paycheck of my drawings must be really the best accomplishment I've had. Who would've thought the high achieving in academics girl would end up in this job. It was pure mystery.

I stared at my empty fridge. I smiled. The only thing that kept me sane nowadays is this...

"Looks like, I need to go... shopping."

I grinned ear to ear while I spent my fortune.

"Who needs therapy, when you can go and do your grocery."

I picked out the foods I knew I'd eat while I finish the new dramas. I was about to get the last stock of my fave gummies until someone practically snatched it. Fast.

"H-hey-" I cut off myself from shouting when I realized who it was.

It was him. In normal clothes. Am I dreaming? Impossible. He wouldn't have clothes in the first place if I am.

"Oh, Ms Jeon." He smiled.

Smiled?

He has the nerve to smile after taking that gummy?

But... then again, who need those gummy bears when his gummy smile is practically the sweetest.

He cleared his throat. "Seems like we'll be seeing each other more often."

Uh...what? Is he trying to say that I have a severe mental illness so we'll literally see each other more?? This fucker...

He probably noticed my frown as he chuckled and shook his head. "Uhm, that might've come off the wrong way. I meant, I just moved in in this neighborhood."

Sorry, what..?

I laughed my nervousness away. It's not like we'll be neighbors. This neighborhood is way too big for us to see each other.

Is that why it was my first time seeing him in this grocery store?

"Well, welcome to the neighborhood." I chuckled, probably awkwardly and excused myself.

Damn it. It could've been my chance for us to talk and stuff, but I refused. I mean, with my looks right now? No thanks.

I skipped my lunch and didn't go to our family's house. I plopped myself on my bed and took out my old sketchbook.

Staring at my old drawings of him, it sure did bring back of the memories.

2010

It's been a month yet we still don't know his name. We already did a lot of different shenanigans just to know it. He must be really like having a low profile. We found his classmate's account yet his are nowhere to be found. Maybe he doesn't go online...

I was staring at my computer, scrolling on whatever stuff pop up, then it hits me. Her sister. Hani's sister!

They're in the same year, so maybe, just maybe, she knows his name.

I quickly typed in to ask her. A girl from our year had a picture with him posted. I sent it to her.

"Hi eonni, can I ask u a question? Is there a chance that you know him?"

*Photo sent*

It took a while for her to respond.

"Uhm yeah, he's from our year"

"Can you tell me his name?"

"Min Yoongi"

"I think that's his name"

Min Yoongi... cute. It suits him.

Hours and hours later, I still couldn't find his account. Then as I was searching, there was this account, he was friends with Hani.

My eyes widen. "Min Suga? Could it be?"

I stalked the account and it was really him. No wonder I couldn't find his account—he wasn't using his real name! Likes to keep a low profile? Bullshit. He has more than 5k followers!

Moreover...he really...looks good.

I wonder if his face reflects his personality.

I added him as a friend and waited for the request to be accepted. I told Chae that if he didn't accepted it within 24 hours, I'll delete my request. I still have pride you know. Don't want to be one of those girls in his inbox.

It hasn't even been an hour and I got the notification. He accepted it! I squealed and danced in my room.

This is what being a youth, right?

I clicked my tongue as I chuckled bitterly. "Youth is never coming back."

As I turn the pages more, my bell ringed. Jungkook never ring first, he just comes in whenever he wants to. I should really change the passcode. As for my mom, she never really bother coming here.

Expecting no one, I opened the door, only to gape at the man in front of me.

"You...like pies?"

Min Yoongi, in front of me, holding a pie, not just holding, but giving..?

"Uh...how close is your house exactly?" I didn't mean to sound rude, but rather genuinely curious.

He hesitatingly pointed the house across me.

The Kim's house?

"It was my friend's grandparents who lived there. He took them to take care of them and then he sold this house to me." Yoongi explained. His face going like this :]

"So you really did mean that we'll see each other more often..." I mumbled in which he caught. He laughed and gave me the pie.

"My mom kept on nagging me on giving pies. She really worked hard on it. Hope you like it!"

She's here?

I nodded and thanked him. He went back and I did too. The smell of the freshly baked peach mango pie really did things to my stomach.

For the first time, Min Yoongi gave me something.

Spring 2011

"Let's go hoomeee. Forget it! I'm not going to give it to him!" I murmured while we wait in the senior's balcony. A few steps away from him, we waited. "I knew it I shouldn't have contact him." I mumbled. "He didn't even read my text..." I mumbled. Chaeyoung was practically dragging me. "Look, he seems busy too."

"Would you rather let your drawing and efforts be wasted then?" Chayoung argued.

Then for the meantime, we waited. We walked towards his classroom but he was nowhere. He was just right there few seconds earlier.

"Stupid text."

A week ago...*

Should I really text him? The classes have been cancelled. I'm not sure whether it's a good idea to do it now. Should I make myself known? Or should I keep it anonymous? But I really wanna take a picture with him...

Ugh! My head hurts. Forget it, I'm just gonna do it.

"Hi uhm... So I just randomly draw one of my mutuals and it happened to be you.."

*Photo sent*

"Perhaps you like it?

"I was about to give you this at school tomorrow but they cancelled the classes so... Hope you like it<3

Was I too formal?

It took him hours to reply.

"Oh wow, what a nice piece!"

"Yes I like it, thanks!"

HE REPLIED!!! I muffled my squeal with my pillow as I looked back at his text. It took me hours to see the message and reply too.

"Guess... I'll just give it to you when we bump into each other, maybe(?)"

"Ugh goshhh how am I going to give you this at schoolT^T"

"Just don't give it yet if you're still not ready^^"

End*

I went home feeling defeated. Not able to give him the drawing.

I stared at my bedroom's ceiling before deciding to go online.

2+messages

It was sent an hour ago. I quickly opened the message. He replied to my text earlier in the morning, when I told him to meet up.

"Sorry, I just saw your text message"

"I don't have an internet at school, that's why"

"It's fine, so,I'll just give it to you tomorrow?"

"Okay, sure"

Saying it was fine when I was literally sulking in my room like a child. But that's when I haven't read his message.

Min Yoongi apologized to me.

I giggled like an idiot in my room as I stared at the text messages we shared.

The next day...

"AAHHHH! Let's go hoomeee. Forget it! I'm not going to give it to him!" I whined, it wasn't just Chae and Sana was there for me, but some of my classmates too. They were waiting for me—like usual, we go home altogether. "I knew it I shouldn't have contact him. This is really a stupid stupid idea!!" I ran around the court in attempt to go home.

We're here, in front of the senior's building. Waiting...again.

One of my classmate proposed that they'll just call him to go down. Two of them went upstairs to his room.

Why does he always keeping me on waiting. Does he think he's some sort of a king?

I huffed and were literally losing all my shits. Till I heard them.

"He's here!!" They squealed. Too much of an opposite, I composed myself and cleared my throat. Thank God he's tall so when I'm looking forward all I can see is his chest. I gave it to him and our hands brushed. It was so quick and subtle, yet it already made my heart warm.

As practiced, Chaeyoung smoothly asked him if we can take a picture—for business purposes. I felt too stiff. This is too good to be true. Then I felt it, he leaned closer. Our arms touching, he smiled to the pic.

My heart was about to get off my rib cage. My insides were going crazy, yet, thankfully, I look completely normal outside.

When I got home, he texted me, thanking and saying that he really appreciates it. A warm feeling spread across my whole body.

The next day, my classmates and I talked about the event yesterday. They were bitching about how Yoongi didn't even thanked me and just left. I laughed so hard when I heard that. Because he did. Yoongi did thanked me before leaving, it just happened that it was loud enough for only me to hear it. Now, it felt more special.

"Have you ever thought of the probable major reason for what you're feeling?"

Here we go again.

How can I focus on what's wrong with me, when you're right here? Worse, as my doctor.

3 more appointments with him. I paid for this, I should at least gain something.

"Maybe... because up to this day, I still blame myself for his death." My head hung low as I mumbled it.

Why do you always have to see my flaw, Min Yoongi?

This infatuation is slowly turning to hatred...

"You know it wasn't your fault."

I turned my head to him with a frown. So, he does remember me?

A tear fell from my cheek. I wiped it before he can even notice. I turned my hands into fist. 6 words. It was only 6 words yet he can already open my bare self.

"I-if I wasn't stubborn. He'd still be here. He followed me. You saw that. If only he didn't. He'd still be here."

I felt a lump in my throat. Those memories. It was too vivid as if it just happened yesterday.

Spring 2012

"I told you, I don't want to!"

Another day, another argument to have with my mother.

Why is she so pushy on making me go to states?

"It's for your own sake! Studying here at this campus will let you go nowhere."

"What? So eager to get rid of me?!" I yelled while we drive to campus.

"Jeon Y/n! Don't you dare shout at your mother." My father said sternly as he drives.

As we were near the campus, I lost it.

"Drop me off." 1.. 2.. 3... "I said, drop me off, dad." Keeping my voice low yet so stern it could cut apples.

My father stopped the car and I get out of it.

I was mindlessly crossing the road that I didn't notice a four wheeler truck coming at me.

Then I felt a pair of hands pushed me hard, and before I knew it, screams were heard. My mom's loud cries were ringing in my ears. Tears were coming out of me uncontrollably. Blood all over him. I crawled, oh so slowly and trembling. Before I could even reach him, my mom pushed me aside and called for help.

Minutes later, I heard the sirens of the ambulance. I was just there. Staring at him. No words coming out.

It started raining. It was a light rain, yet even with those subtle touch, it made my whole body flinch and freeze.

Till I felt someone's embrace. Someone was covering me with their jacket. Who could possibly care for me if it wasn't my father.

Slowly, I turned my head towards the person.

Why it has to be you?

"Everything's gonna be okay. The ambulance is taking your father already."

He spoke in a soothing tone. Yet no matter how warm or soft his voice is, I can't somehow get out the ice cage I'm in.

"Do you think your father would want you to think that way? It's been years Y/n, what happened that you're back at this again?"

part 2 read here^^

A/N: okay, I lied. Maybe this isn't gonna be a oneshot... maybe I'll have 2 parts? 3 maybe? I just cut this off here cause I think it was too long. So readers can have breaks hehe. Gonna post the next part tomorrow maybe...

Comment your @ if u guys wants to be added on the taglist^^

[pitchsidestories]

lovers II Keira Walsh x Williamson!Reader

masterlist I word count: 2468

a/n: Hi, we realized that it's our 100th oneshot which sounds absolutely wild, so enjoy. For the readers who wait for the Emily Fox fanfic it will come out next. <3

You were in love with Ibiza.

In love with the beaches and the sunshine, the palm trees and the blue of the ocean.

You were in love with the clubs and bars, your sister and her friends took you to.

But above all, you were in love with your sister’s best friend.

The afternoon sun painted the hotel room in soft golden light as you slipped into a short dress. You could still feel the salty air and the sun from earlier that day on your skin as you began applying mascara to your eyelashes. Except for a bit of hunger, you felt fully content.

“Ready for dinner? You look gorgeous by the way.“, Keiras voice said from behind you.

You hadn’t noticed her coming in.

You flinched, almost stabbing yourself in the eye with the mascara wand.

Keira smiled apologetically at your reflection in the mirror.

You watched as her gaze started to travel down your body, taking in every curve in your tight-fitting dress.

With a smile you turned towards her and bridged the gap between the two of you.

“Are you kidding? Look at you… Your curls are so pretty and soft.“, you whispered, gently running her fingers through her reddish brown hair.

You loved the way the salt water had restored Keiras natural hair texture.

“My curls? I just didn’t straighten my hair.“, she laughed.

Her cheeks flushed slightly, barely visible through the light sunburn on her skin.

Completely enamoured, you beamed at her: “I love it.“

You were about to lean forward to kiss her when someone cleared their throat behind you.

Your heart stopped while you pulled apart. You ran through possible explanations for this situation in your head, just in case you would turn around to face your sister.

Instead, Alex Scott watched the two of you with a knowing grin.

“You do? Oh hi, Alex.“, Keira greeted the former football player.

“Little Williamson is right though. She could have done something with fashion but…“, Alex said without finishing her thought.

You rolled your eyes, she had always tried to convince you to work in the fashion industry but you wouldn’t trade your job as an English teacher in Barcelona for anything in the world.

“She chose to teach people English in Spain and honestly, it was the best decision ever.“, you finished for Alex.

Keira laughed: “I agree with that.“

Leah appeared next to Alex in the doorway. Subconsciously, you tried to put more distance between yourself and Keira.

“Of course, you do, Kei. Because that way you can talk to someone in your mother tongue almost every day. How did the Catalan interview go again?“, your sister teased.

Her best friend released a tired groan: “Don’t remind me.“

Alex changed the subject, pointing with her thumb over her shoulder: “Now that everyone’s dressed up, let’s get some dinner in before we go clubbing.“

“Sounds like a good idea.”, you agreed in a good mood, the sea air made you hungry.

At the restaurant Keira studied the menu thoroughly before looking at you with an innocent smile on her lips.

“Everything here sounds so good, do you want to share?”, she asked.

“Sure.”, you replied happily. Above your heads the fairy lights were switched on and you could hear the waves crashing on to the shore in the background.

The romantic atmosphere was quickly disturbed by your older sister.

“Excuse me? I thought you’d share with me!”, she pouted, sending glances at the Barca player which could kill.

“What about your girlfriend? Doesn’t she want to share with you?”, Keira asked in return, cheeks flushed.

“Yes, Lee, no need to be that dramatic about it.”, Alex Greenwood intervened laughing.

“I’m not dramatic.”, Leah countered smirking.

“That’s just how she’s.”, you explained cheekily.

“Why don’t we order food for the table so we can all share?”, your girlfriend suggested hoping this would calm the Blonde Arsenal defender down.

“Yes, that’s perfect. I’m in.”, the two Alex’s declared grinning.

“Same, you too, Leah?”, you turned around to investigate your sister’s face, waiting for her reaction.

“Sure.”, she nodded, sounding much calmer already.

 “What about a first round of cocktails?”, Jess wanted to know.

“Please.”, Leah answered.

A few minutes later the drinks arrived at your table, beaming you toasted with her. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.”, she responded grinning.  

The sweetness and the alcohol sparked the desire in you to touch your lover’s curly hair again.

“Stop it.”, Keira demanded giggling.

“I’m not doing anything.”, you remarked in a not guilty tone.

“Yes, you’re. Stop it.”, she bit her lip nervously.

“Fine.”, you sighed defeated, quickly finishing your cocktail.

After the last sip you stood up smiling delighted at the other girls. “Girls, are we ready for the club now?”

“Let’s go.”, Alex Greenwood chirmed.

The sun was long gone now, the moon and the stars shown brightly as you and your sister former and current teammates joined the Ibizan night life.

Something your sister and you both shared was the passion for music. While Leah preferred to sing you would take every chance you could get to dance. Before Keira your first love has been rhythm and beats.

“Come on, Kei.”, Alex nudged the red-haired woman who admired you from the distance.

“I don’t dance. I’m here for the drinks.”, she waved the sports journalist off.

“But I do. Come on, Alex.”, Leah remarked cheerfully.

“Coming.“, Alex laughed and let the defender pull her into the direction of the dance floor.

The other Alex jumped up as well, following closely behind: “Hey, wait for me.“

You caught Keiras eye from across the room and danced your way over to her. You were not ready to stop yet but you also didn’t want to leave her alone.

Keira reached for your wrist with a laugh: “Stop twirling around, y/n.“

“Why?“, you asked, spinning out of her grasp.

“Just because.“

You stopped for a moment, studying her face. There was something serious and pleading in her eyes that you didn’t understand. You only wanted to continue dancing with your friends. “Keira…“

You interrupted yourself, taking in a sharp breath in surprise as two hands laid on your hips and spun you around.

A man in his mid-thirties and clearly drunk grinned at you. His gaze traveled down to your neckline while he asked you something that your brain didn’t seem to comprehend. Apparently he wanted you to dance with him but everything about him made clear that he had other things in mind than just dancing.

You froze in place, not sure if you felt disgusted or disgusting.

Just when you were about to say something, your sister squeezed between him and you and pushed him back: “Sorry, no. That’s my sister!“

“And she’s already taken.“, Keira added. You hadn’t noticed that Keira had gotten up from her seat as well.

Leahs head whipped towards her best friend: “What?“

“Uhm…“, you mumbled as you watched the man retreat with his hands raised in surrender.

You desperately tried to find a good reason to change the subject but you just couldn’t come up with one.

“Who is it, y/n? One of your colleagues or one of the Barca girlies?“, Leah asked, her voice tinted with anger.

“It’s…uhm…“, you started and forced yourself not to look at Keira. Lying would be so easy right now. But did you actually want to keep hiding?

Your sister got impatient: “Just tell me.“

“Keira.“, was all you could get out and prayed that you made the right choice.

The two best friends looked at each other. Keira nodded slowly: “It’s me.“

“Wait, you?! When? How? She’s my little sister!“ Leahs eyebrows furrowed in anger.

Keira shrugged, trying to keep her voice calm: “In Barcelona… it just happened.“

Your sister turned towards you with her jaw set: “We’ll talk about this tomorrow morning!“

She stormed off without waiting for an answer and you quietly wondered where she would go.

Keira and you ended the night there and went back to your hotel room.

You walked out on the balcony overlooking the ocean, Keira followed right behind you.

“She’s really mad.“, you said nervously into the night sky.

The midfielder wrapped her arms around you and rolled her eyes: “She can’t be mad about this.“

You knew she had a point.

“No, Lee is more upset about the fact that we didn’t tell her.“

“Still. I can talk with her if you want me to.”, Keira offered while you kept watching the waves come and go which was scarily similar to your older sister’s temper. Deep down you knew she would eventually calm down.

“No, I’ll do it, it’s fine.”, you assured the Barcelona player before kissing her temple softly.

For a moment she closed her eyes under your touch. “She’ll be fine.”, the midfielder whispered in a convinced tone as her lips touched yours in a heartfelt kiss.

“What was the kiss for?”, you raised an eyebrow at her curiously.

“For good luck.”, Keira replied smirking.

“But she said tomorrow so maybe we could just go inside and..”, you begun rambling.

“You think that’s a good idea?”, your girlfriend interrupted you with a doubtful look on her face.

“No, I’ll do it now.”, you sighed, knowing fully well that some things shouldn’t be put on hold. Although you’d miss the comforting hug of the midfielder who pretended to hate them but always made an exception for you.

Cautiously you stood at the entry of the hotel room your sister and her girlfriend were staying in. “Lee, can we chat outside?”

Without a word the older blonde got up and put on her shoes, signalling that she was ready to talk to you outside.

For a while the two of you walked silently on the sand which felt still warm under your naked feet.

“So, you and Keira, huh?”, Leah broke the silence, sounding more curious than mad this time.

“Yeah.”, you answered timidly.

“Since when?” the defender continued asking.

“We got closer when she came to Barcelona.”, you confessed.

“That was forever ago.”, she noted slightly hurt by your reply.

“Yes, but we just started dating a few months ago.”, you added quickly. This much was true. Undoubtedly, you always had a soft spot for your sister’s best friend. The more time you two spend together, the more it became obvious that there was more than just friendship.

“And you didn’t tell me.”, Leah swallowed hard through that realization.

“You didn’t ask me.”, you reminded her.

“If you’re dating my best friend? How was I supposed to know.”, she retorted.

“No, in general, it’s mostly about you when you call me.”, you countered.

“I didn’t realize that. I’m sorry. But I thought you’d tell me such things.”, the defender apologized, her skin despite the tan turned pale.

“It’s okay. I guess we weren’t great sisters for each other recently.”, you admitted guiltily.

Leah nodded in reluctant agreement: “I guess we weren’t.“

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, not uncomfortable but thoughtful.

“But we could do better now.“, you said determinedly,

Your sister stopped walking. You only realized that wasn’t on your side anymore after a few more steps.

You turned towards her and caught her staring at you.

“Y/n?“, she asked.

“Yes?“

“Are you happy?“

You smiled at her: “Very.“

“With Kei?“

“Yes.“, you confirmed again.

Leah studied your face for a moment, searching for any indication of a lie before she finally nodded once: “Okay.“

“Okay?“, you echoed with hopefulness in your voice. You didn’t want to fight with your sister. You wanted her and Keira in your life.

Leah kicked up some sand with her shoe: “Yes, okay. I think I can live with that.“

“Good.“, you beamed and slowly continued your walk, waiting for your sister to take her place by your side again.

You thought your talk was over when your sister suddenly spoke up again: “Y/n?“

You looked at her, signalling her to continue.

“Just because you live a life outside of the public eye doesn’t mean I’m not interested in your life or I’m not proud of you.“

Her words caught you by surprise. You frowned at her in confusion. “Wait, you’re proud of me?“

“Why do you sound so surprised? Obviously I’m proud of you.“

You stared down at the fine sand under your feet: “Sorry.“

Another break in your conversation arose. Apparently, struggling to express your emotions properly ran in your family.

“Not everyone has the bravery to go abroad for work… I would not.“, Leah continued.

You looked back up at her: “Really?“

She nodded slowly: “You know how much I love home. And Arsenal. I just couldn’t.“

Hearing this filled you with pride but at the same time, you had to suppress a smile because you really couldn’t imagine your sister anywhere else.

“True, you’re such a homebody.“, you laughed.

Your sister smirked and gave you a small shrug: “See, we’re just very different.“

“Yes, but that’s okay.“, you assured her. You could feel the tension dissolve slowly.

Leah raised an eyebrow: “I will still have to talk to Keira though.“

You let out a groan: “Oh no, not the big sister talk.“

“Oh yes, even for my best friend.“

“Fine, but try and be nice, okay?“, you asked innocently.

“Of course.“

“Thank you.“

She reached over and ruffled through your blonde hair: “Anything for my little sister.“

You tried to get revenge. You two were laughing like children while you chased her down the beach.

You never heard anything about their talk. Both Keira and Leah refused to tell you anything and stubbornly maintained their silence. You didn’t care anyway. They seemed closer than ever and that was all that mattered to you.

The next days were spend at the beach, enjoying the sun and the refreshing coolness of the sea.

“No. I’m not going into the water.“ Keira shook her head determinedly. She had spend the morning straightening her hair but to you, that was not a reason to miss out on swimming.

“Come on.“ You impatiently pulled at her arm.

Leah appeared on Keiras other side, pushing her forward. “You better go now.“

Together you barrelled towards the sea, falling over each as soon as you reached the water. The rest of your friend group burst out laughing,

Keira pushed her now wet hair back. It started to curl at the ends already.

“I hate you Williamsons!“, she laughed.

You kissed her cheek: “No, you don’t.“

“Not really, no.“, Keira admitted and pulled you towards her by your waist to kiss you.

Leah grimaced in disgust: “Okay, but you don’t have to kiss in front of me.“

“Stop complaining.“, you rolled your eyes.

Keira grinned at her: “You better get used to it, Lee.“

[lohotine]

Finished Beast Yeast ep 3 last night..... I was not happy with the results, so now I'm forming a picture in my head of y/n cookie running to Shadow Milk Cookie and hiding behind him, fearful of Mystic Flour Cookie, shaking like a chihuahua with tears in their eyes.

If it's possible, can you expand on this, please? If you can't, then it's fine 👍🏻😁

AN: Takes place before the beasts were sealed but after they became corrupted- Uh if you want one in the present I can make one of those as well..! Also, I usually try to avoid using Y/N in my stories, but it just felt natural here-

Shadow Milk x Reader

Oneshot

Warnings: Swears, not proof read

-Fearful-

"And see? My little Y/N here is absolutely perfect in every single way." Shadow Milk was often one to brag about his significant other, the significant other in question being you, of course. It has long since become of a habit of his.

You've become somewhat used to it by this point. He bragged to anyone who would listen, so this happened quite a lot.

Though, something was different about this person.

Her apathetic presence, those uncaring eyes, the way she carried herself... it was all so nerve-wracking.

Shadow Milk had mentioned her a few times before. She was one of his friends. Mystic Flour.

She seemed uninterested in the conversation, yet listened anyway.

The very much one-sided conversation seemed to go on and on, and throughout it all, Mystic Flour continued to stare at you. Something about that gaze made you feel deeply uncomfortable, and you subconsciously held onto Shadow Milk's hand and shifted behind him.

He quickly noticed this and seemed to quiet down a bit. He saw how you began to shake a little, and how you tightend your grasp around his hand.

"Is something wrong?" He asked you, tilting his head to the side a bit.

You didn't want to say it out loud, for fear of potentially offending Mystic Flour.

It didn't take long for Shadow Milk to connect the dots. He covered his mouth with his hand, snickering a bit. "Doll, you're not afraid, are you?"

There was nothing you wanted more than to wipe that annoying grin off of his face. "Hey, fuck you!"

He sighed. "Oh come on. Are you seriously afraid of Mystic Flour?' The grin never left his face.

"I will be taking my leave now," Mystic Flour said before walking someplace else.

You crossed your arms and glared at Shadow Milk, obviously not amused.

He let out another sigh before placing a hand on your head, messying your hair up. "Doll, I assure you, there is nothing to be scared of. That emotionless dustball that somehow gets worshipped will never lay a finger on you because you're mine. And she's smart enough to not mess with my stuff, 'kay?"

You nodded your head and Shadow Milk whisked away a stray tear that you hadn't realized was forming.

He gave you a soft smile. "Next time I see her, I'll have to remind her to appear more friendly towards guests..."

[domm1etae]

needy pup

mingi x f!reader

oneshot | mdni

2.1k

Mingi may be the perfect alpha on campus—popular, charming, and everyone’s favorite—but the moment he’s around you, all his composure crumbles. When his need for you gets too overwhelming to handle during a study session, you decide to give your needy pup exactly what he’s been begging for. Turns out, he’s more obedient than anyone would’ve guessed

nsfw tags under

f/m, mention of a/b/o dynam., alpha submissive top mingi, beta dominant bottom reader, pet names, jerking off, pleading, semi-public sex, going down on her, oral sex, quick sex, cumming inside without condom (pls wrap up your piener irl), female reader, and more idk anymore lol

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Song Mingi is an alpha.

But not the kind you’d expect.

Sure, he’s the campus favorite—everyone knows his name. Whether it’s omegas, betas, or even other alphas, they all seem drawn to him like moths to a flame. But unlike the image most people have of alphas, Mingi isn’t all bark and bite. Yeah, he’s got the size and the presence, but he’s also got this easygoing charm that makes him approachable. He’s not trying to prove anything to anyone. Mingi is just… Mingi.

And that’s what makes him stand out.

It’s not like he hasn’t had his moments, though. Back in high school, he was a total pain—always cracking jokes, pulling harmless pranks, and skating by with his boyish grin. His teachers were over it, but somehow, he had this magnetic energy that kept people from staying mad at him for long. He wasn’t the type to pick fights or throw his weight around; he just had that playful streak that made life a little more interesting.

Now, in his second year of university, Mingi’s mellowed out a bit. He still knows how to have fun, but he’s more focused these days. Or at least, he was until he met you.

Y/N.

You weren’t just some random classmate. From the moment Mingi saw you, something shifted. It wasn’t just that you were beautiful—though you definitely are—it was the way you carried yourself. Calm, confident, like you didn’t need anyone to tell you how amazing you were. For someone like Mingi, who’s so used to people trying to impress him, your vibe was… refreshing.

And a little intimidating.

The thing is, alphas aren’t supposed to feel small. Not physically, not emotionally, not in any way. But around you? Mingi couldn’t help it. You’d give him one look—just one—and it felt like the ground beneath his feet disappeared. At first, he thought he was imagining it. Alphas don’t submit, right? That’s just not how it works.

Except it is.

Because with you, Mingi’s entire dynamic flipped. He found himself saying “yes” before you even finished your requests, practically jumping to do anything you asked. Grabbing your bag, holding the door, running across campus to get you snacks—you name it, he did it. And it wasn’t because he felt obligated. It was because he wanted to.

There was something about you that made him crave your approval. Your smirk, the way you’d tease him—it turned his brain into static. Every time you praised him, even for the smallest thing, he felt like he’d won the lottery.

Before the two of you got close, Mingi spent way too much time trying to figure you out. He’d catch himself staring at you in class or conveniently ending up in the same places as you, hoping you’d notice him. And when you finally did? It felt like the stars had aligned.

But getting close to you wasn’t easy. You weren’t the type to fall for cheap charm or shallow compliments. You made him work for it—really work for it—and Mingi loved that. Every little victory, every small smile you gave him, felt earned.

When he finally built up the nerve to ask you out, his heart was practically in his throat. He expected you to laugh or maybe let him down gently. But you didn’t. You said yes. And just like that, Mingi’s world tilted on its axis.

Now that you’re his, Mingi can’t get enough. He doesn’t care about what’s expected of him as an alpha. He only cares about you. And if anyone thinks it’s strange that someone like him gets so soft for someone like you? Well, that’s their problem, not his.

Mingi’s eyes flit between the clock on the wall and Y/N, who is flipping through her notes at her desk. They’re currently sitting in the schools library, and while Y/N is busy preparing for an upcoming exam, Mingi is squirming in his seat, unable to focus on anything but the growing ache between his legs.

“I told you to go do something productive,” Y/N says, barely sparing him a glance as she writes something in her notebook.

Mingi shakes his head, his pout growing. “Don’t wanna. Wanna stay with you.”

Y/N rolls her eyes but can’t hide the amused smirk tugging at her lips. “Pup,” she sighs, turning in her chair to look at him fully. “You’re distracting yourself sitting here. Go take a walk or something. I’ll be done soon.”

“But I need you,” he whines, his voice soft but desperate, laced with need.

“You’re being dramatic,” Y/N replies, leaning back in her chair, arms crossing over her chest. But she knows that look. That glint of need in his eyes.

“Can’t help it,” Mingi mumbles, his gaze darting downward, shame creeping up his neck as he fidgets in his seat. His hand twitches near his lap, and Y/N doesn’t miss the way his breath hitches as he rubs his thighs together.

“Are you seriously getting hard right now?” Y/N raises a brow, her tone somewhere between amused and incredulous.

Mingi’s cheeks flush red as he nods, barely meeting her eyes. “I can’t help it, Y/N. You smell so good, and—and I’ve been good all day! Please…” His voice cracks as his need grows, and Y/N notices the way his hands grip the edge of the desk, trying to ground himself.

“Poor pup,” Y/N teases, leaning closer to him. “You really can’t handle yourself, can you?”

Mingi sniffles, his desperation apparent in the way his eyes shine with unshed tears. “Please, Y/N. I—I need you so bad. Just let me taste you. I promise I’ll be good.”

Y/N tilts her head, pretending to think it over, though she’s already made up her mind. Seeing Mingi like this—needy, desperate, and begging—is enough to make her wet. She stands, gesturing for him to follow.

“Get up,” she commands. “Let’s find a place before someone walks in here.”

Mingi doesn’t hesitate, scrambling to his feet and trailing behind her like the obedient pup he is. She leads him to a small, unused classroom down the hall, locking the door behind them. The second the door clicks shut, Mingi is on his knees in front of her, looking up at her with wide, pleading eyes.

“Good boy,” Y/N purrs, running her fingers through his hair. “You really are desperate, aren’t you? Go on, pup. Show me how much you want it.”

Mingi’s hands tremble as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of her pants, pulling them down along with her underwear. He groans when her bare pussy is revealed, glistening with arousal. “Fuck,” he mutters, practically drooling. “You’re so pretty, Y/N.”

She smirks, leaning back against the desk and spreading her legs. “It’s all yours, pup. Don’t make a mess.”

Mingi wastes no time, diving in with a hunger that borders on feral. His tongue laps at her folds, drawing out a satisfied sigh from Y/N. He’s sloppy, licking and sucking with a desperation that makes her thighs tremble around his head.

“Good boy,” she praises, her fingers tangling in his hair to guide him. “Just like that. Make me feel good, pup.”

Mingi moans against her, the vibrations sending shocks of pleasure through her body. His hands grip her thighs, holding her steady as he buries his face deeper between her legs, his nose brushing against her clit as his tongue works her entrance.

Y/N’s head tilts back, a low moan escaping her lips. “You’re so eager,” she teases, looking down at him. “You really can’t get enough, can you?”

He shakes his head, his movements frantic. “Never,” he mumbles against her, his voice muffled. “Need you so bad.”

She lets him continue for a while longer, enjoying the way he whimpers and moans as he devours her. Than she pulls him back by his hair, smirking at the way his lips and chin glisten with her arousal.

“Don’t stop, pup,” she pants, her voice breathless. “Make me cum, and I’ll let you fuck me after.”

The promise lights a fire in him. Mingi dives in deeper without hesitation, his broad shoulders parting your thighs wider as he grips them, keeping you spread open. His hot breath hits your core, and the way his tongue flicks out and barely grazes over your folds has you twitching in anticipation.

“Pup,” you murmur, fingers tangling in his hair as you tug his face closer. “Don’t waste time—get to it. You’re starving, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he groans, voice muffled as he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit. He circles his tongue slowly, savoring the taste, before pulling back to whisper, “Tastes so good, so perfect—thank you…”

“Stop thanking me and start eating properly.”

The edge in your voice spurs him on, and suddenly Mingi’s tongue is relentless. He’s licking, sucking, and lapping at your folds with fervor, moaning softly like he’s the one being pleasured. His hands grip your thighs tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulls you even closer to his mouth, like he’s scared you’ll take this away from him.

The sounds are obscene—his mouth slurping against you, his muffled groans, and your breathy moans echoing in the small, empty classroom. You glance down and see Mingi’s eyes locked on you, pupils blown wide as he stares up, completely lost in the act.

“Fuck, pup,” you gasp, hips jerking involuntarily. His tongue is everywhere—flicking over your clit, dipping into your entrance, and dragging along every inch of you. “Look at you, making such a mess of yourself. You really can’t control yourself, can you?”

Mingi whines against you, shaking his head. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking hard enough to pull a cry from your throat. You feel one of his hands leave your thigh, and when you glance down, you see him stroking his cock desperately, precum smearing over his fingers as he jerks himself off to the sound of your moans.

“Needy boy,” you tease, tugging lightly on his hair to make him look at you. “All you had to do was wait for me to finish my work, but no, you had to act like a desperate little pupyou are. Now look at you—messy and so fucking hard you can’t even think straight, huh?”

“Y-Yeah,” he chokes out, his lips red and shiny as he pulls back for a second. “I can’t—I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N. You’re all I want—all I need.”

You smirk, cupping his cheek. “Then keep going, pup. Show me just how much you need me.”

With a low growl, Mingi dives back in, tongue thrusting inside you as his nose rubs against your clit. His movements are frantic now, like he’s trying to prove just how desperate he is. The hand on his cock speeds up, and you can tell by the way his hips are twitching that he’s close.

“Don’t you dare cum yet,” you warn, gripping his hair tighter. He lets out a muffled whimper, his tongue faltering for a second before resuming its task. “Good boy. Make me cum first, and I’ll let you finish after as I promised.”

And after those words, his tongue is suddenly everywhere, licking and sucking like his life depends on it. The pressure builds quickly, and you throw your head back, a moan ripping from your throat as the knot in your stomach tightens.

“Right there, pup, just like that—don’t stop,” you gasp, thighs clenching around his head. Mingi groans, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body, and with one final flick of his tongue over your clit, you’re falling over the edge, your body trembling as your orgasm crashes over you.

Mingi doesn’t stop, his tongue still working you through your high as he whines against you, his hips bucking into his hand. When you finally push his head away, panting and spent, he looks up at you with wide, needy eyes, his lips glistening with your release.

“Can I—please, Y/N, can I cum now?” he begs, his voice cracking as he strokes himself faster. “I’ve been so good, haven’t I? Please let me cum, I need it so bad.”

You bite your lip, pretending to think it over, before finally nodding, turning around and bending over the table. “Go ahead, pup. Show me how good you are.”

With a broken moan, he inserts his dick inside, his head falls back as he spills inside of you with just one thrust, his cock twitching as he comes. You turn around right after to reach out and ruffle his hair as he collapses against you, panting and spent.

“Good boy,” you murmur, stroking his cheek. “You did so well for me.”

Mingi looks up at you with a blissed-out smile, his eyes half-lidded. “Anything for you, Y/N. Always.”

[ghstyles]

Date Night | FWFW oneshot

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WC: 6k

Masterlist

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Harry stood in front of his closet, staring at the extensive collection of designer clothes with uncharacteristic indecision. Around him, discarded options littered the floor, shirts deemed too casual, too formal, too "celebrity Harry" rather than "just Harry."

"Fuck," he muttered, running a hand through his hair for perhaps the twentieth time that hour.

He'd performed for stadiums filled with screaming fans. He'd accepted Grammy awards on international television. He'd faced down music industry executives and his own mother's cutting disapproval. None of it had made his palms sweat like this—the prospect of taking his own wife on their first proper date. 

Well, technically ex-wife but harry didn't care for such specifications 

His phone buzzed with a text from Jeff:

Remember you have that call with the label tomorrow at 11. Also, TMZ keeps asking about the divorce rumors. What do you want me to tell them?

Harry texted back quickly:

Tell them I'm busy taking my wife on a date. Call can wait.

He tossed the phone aside and finally settled on dark jeans and a simple button-down shirt—casual but intentional. No loud patterns or statement pieces. Nothing that screamed "pop star." Tonight wasn't about Harry Styles the celebrity; it was about Harry, the man trying to properly court the woman he'd married for all the wrong reasons and fallen in love with despite himself.

Meanwhile, in the guest house where she'd been staying since their return from her hometown, Y/N faced similar wardrobe anxieties.

"This is ridiculous," she told her reflection as she tried on a third outfit. "We were married. We've seen each other at our absolute worst."

Yet here she was, fussing over her appearance like a teenager before prom. There was something both absurd and precious about the reversed timeline of their relationship—marriage first, dating later.

She finally settled on a simple, elegant dress that made her feel confident without trying too hard. As she finished applying a touch of lip gloss, her phone chimed with Harry's text:

Ready whenever you are. No rush.

Y/N smiled at the polite formality. It was strange seeing Harry so nervous, so careful with her. The arrogant superstar who'd stormed into her life with his sharp tongue and sharper contracts had vanished, replaced by a man who asked permission before he touched her and texted to make sure she was comfortable with their plans.

When she stepped out of the guest house, she found him waiting by his least ostentatious car (which was still ridiculously expensive, but at least it wasn't the flashy sports car he usually drove). He'd brought flowers, not an elaborate arrangement from some exclusive florist, but wildflowers that looked like he'd actually picked them himself.

"Hi," he said, suddenly shy in a way that made her heart twist. "You look beautiful."

Y/N accepted the flowers, noting the small scratches on his hands that confirmed her suspicion about their origin. "Did you actually pick these yourself?"

A flush crept up Harry's neck. "There's a field behind the north property line. I remembered you saying once that you hated how florist arrangements always looked too perfect, too arranged."

The fact that he'd remembered such a casual comment, something she'd probably mentioned months ago in passing, made her breath catch.

"Thank you," she said softly. "They're perfect."

An awkward silence fell between them. The strange tension of two people who had shared everything from bitter arguments to passionate sex to vulnerable confessions, but had never done this: a simple, intentional date.

"So," Harry cleared his throat. "I thought we could go to this little place in Hampstead. It's not fancy, but they make incredible pasta, and the owner keeps the paparazzi away."

Y/N nodded, trying not to laugh at how endearingly uncomfortable he looked.Harry Styles, fumbling through first-date small talk with his own wife.

"Pasta sounds perfect," she assured him. "Lead the way."

The restaurant was indeed small and unassuming, tucked away on a quiet street where London's wealthy residents preferred privacy to flash. The owner, a robust Italian man with a magnificent mustache, greeted Harry like an old friend and led them to a secluded corner table illuminated by soft candlelight.

"Your usual table, Mr. Harry," he announced with a flourish. "And this must be the beautiful wife we have heard so much about!"

Harry shot the man a warning look that made Y/N raise an eyebrow.

"How often do you come here?" she asked once they were seated.

Harry shrugged, studying the menu with unnecessary intensity. "Just occasionally. When I need to think."

"And you've talked about me to the owner?"

Harry's eyes flicked up to meet hers, then back to the menu. "I might have mentioned you once or twice."

The casual admission shouldn't have affected her as much as it did—the idea of Harry sitting alone in this quiet restaurant, talking about her to a sympathetic restaurateur while their marriage was falling apart.

The waiter brought wine, and Harry waited for her approval before pouring, another small gesture that spoke volumes about his determination to do things differently this time.

"This is weird, isn't it?" Y/N finally said, breaking the tension with a small laugh. "Us, on a first date, after everything."

Relief flooded Harry's face at her acknowledgement. "Completely weird. I feel like I'm sixteen again, trying not to say anything stupid."

"You say stupid things all the time," Y/N teased. "Never stopped you before."

Harry grinned, some of his natural confidence returning. "True. But now I care if you think I'm an idiot."

"I already know you're an idiot," she countered, but there was no malice in her tone, only gentle teasing. "An idiot who picked wildflowers and got scratched up in the process."

Harry glanced down at his hands and shrugged. "Worth it for the look on your face."

The initial awkwardness began to dissolve as they ordered food and slipped into easier conversation. They carefully avoided discussing the divorce papers, his mother, or any of the painful chapters of their recent past, focusing instead on lighter topics—childhood memories, music Harry was working on, books Y/N had been reading in the guest house.

"So what now?" Y/N asked as they shared a tiramisu for dessert. "With the... legal situation, I mean."

Harry set down his fork, expression serious. "My lawyers are working on contesting the divorce filing. They're confident they can make a case for invalidating the papers based on how they were obtained."

He hesitated, then added: "But ultimately, it's up to you, Y/N. If you want out, I won't force you to stay married to me, no matter how much I want this to work."

Y/N considered his words, appreciating the care he was taking to give her agency in this decision.

"I don't want out. If they can be contested, great. If not, so be it. Doesn't matter" she said finally. "I just want us to do it right this time. No contracts, no arrangements. Just... us."

Harry reached across the table, his hand open in silent invitation. Y/N placed her hand in his, feeling the calluses on his fingertips from years of playing guitar.

"Just us," he agreed softly. "Starting right now."

After dinner, they walked through a small public garden nearby, closed to visitors but accessible through a side gate that Harry apparently had permission to use. Under a canopy of fairy lights strung through trees, they strolled in comfortable silence, hands occasionally brushing but not quite holding.

"This reminds me of the woods back home," Y/N said, looking up at the illuminated branches. "Less wild, but still magical."

Harry smiled, watching her face tilt toward the lights. "I come here sometimes to write. It's one of the few places in London where I can actually hear myself think."

"And what are you thinking now?" Y/N asked, turning to face him.

Harry considered the question seriously, his green eyes reflecting pinpoints of light from above.

"I'm thinking that I've performed in front of millions of people, but I've never been more nervous than I am right now, trying to impress you."

The honesty in his voice made Y/N's pulse quicken.

"You don't need to impress me, Harry," she said softly. "I already know who you are—the good and the bad."

"And you're still here," he noted, a question hiding in the statement.

Y/N nodded, taking a step closer to him beneath the canopy of lights. "I'm still here."

Harry's hand came up to cup her cheek, his touch gentle, questioning. "Can I kiss you? Properly, this time?"

The request, so careful, so different from the demanding Harry she'd first married, made Y/N smile.

"You've kissed me hundreds of times," she reminded him.

His thumb brushed her lower lip, his eyes intent on hers. "Not like this. Not as a beginning."

Understanding the significance he was placing on this moment, Y/N nodded. Harry leaned in slowly, giving her every opportunity to pull away. When their lips finally met, it was gentle, almost tentative, nothing like the passionate or angry kisses they'd shared before.

This kiss held a question and a promise: Can we start again? Can we build something real from the ruins of what we were?

When they separated, Harry rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed as if memorizing the moment.

"Was that okay?" he whispered.

Y/N laughed softly, threading her fingers through his hair. "For a world-famous heartthrob, you're surprisingly insecure about your kissing abilities."

Harry opened his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. "Only with you. Only because it matters."

The drive back to Harry's estate, though he still thought of it primarily as theirs, was quiet, a comfortable silence replacing the nervous tension of earlier.

When they reached the circular driveway, Harry walked her to the guest house door, maintaining the first-date protocol despite the absurdity of the situation.

"So," he said, hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her. "Would it be too forward to ask for a second date?"

Y/N pretended to consider this, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "I don't know. I usually make men wait three days before I agree to see them again."

Harry grinned, playing along. "I could wait three days. Or minutes. Your choice."

Y/N laughed, the sound carrying through the quiet night air. "Tomorrow," she decided. "Let's not waste any more time."

Harry's smile softened into something more serious, more vulnerable. "No more wasted time," he agreed quietly.

He leaned in for one more gentle kiss goodnight, then stepped back, respecting the boundaries they were redrawing together.

"Goodnight, Y/N," he said, walking backward a few steps before turning toward the main house.

"Goodnight, Harry," she called after him, watching as he glanced back with a smile that made her heart flutter despite everything they'd been through.

As she closed the guest house door behind her, Y/N leaned against it, touching her lips where his had been moments before. Their first date. Their first real beginning after so many false starts and wrong turns.

It wouldn't be easy. Nothing about their relationship ever had been. But for the first time since this complicated journey began, Y/N felt something she'd almost forgotten: hope, fragile but persistent, taking root in soil once thought too damaged to nurture anything worth growing.

· · ─────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·

That second date blossomed into a third and that turned into a fourth. Today was their fifth date. 

Y/N stood in front of the full-length mirror in the guest house bedroom, examining her reflection with critical eyes. The dress she'd chosen for tonight, a deep emerald that complemented her eyes and hair, hung elegantly on her frame, sophisticated without trying too hard. Perfect for the jazz club Harry had mentioned taking her to.

But it was what lay beneath the dress that currently occupied her thoughts.

On her bed lay two options: practical, comfortable underwear in nude tones that wouldn't show through the fabric of her dress...and a matching set of black lace lingerie she'd impulsively purchased during a solo shopping trip to London earlier that week.

Five dates. That was where they stood now, four completed, with the fifth looming this evening. Each date had ended the same way: a progressively longer, more heated goodnight kiss at her door, followed by Harry reluctantly pulling away and walking back to the main house alone.

His restraint both frustrated and touched her. He was letting her set the pace, waiting for her to signal when she was ready to move beyond their careful courtship into more intimate territory.

Y/N picked up the black lace bra, running her thumb over the delicate material. It had been just over two months since they'd been intimate—their last encounter a desperate, angry joining the night before everything fell apart. Before the divorce papers, before her flight home, before Harry's confession and their slow, deliberate rebuilding.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered to her reflection. 

Yet it didn't feel ridiculous. It felt significant. The decision to invite Harry back into her bed would mark another threshold crossed in their unconventional journey from arranged marriage to genuine partnership.

She thought about their fourth date two nights ago. A private concert at Abbey Road Studios where Harry had arranged for her to hear a legendary jazz pianist perform. Afterward, in the dim light outside the building, his goodnight kiss had lingered longer than usual, his hands at her waist pulling her closer before he'd forced himself to step back, eyes dark with barely-restrained desire.

"Not yet," he'd whispered against her lips. "Not until you're sure."

The memory sent a pleasant shiver down Y/N's spine. She made her decision, reaching for the black lingerie.

Twenty minutes later, as she applied a final touch of perfume to her wrists, a text from Harry lit up her phone:

Ready whenever you are. No rush.

The same message he'd sent before every date. His way of giving her space, of confirming that this was her choice too.

Y/N smiled, typing back:

Coming out now. Fair warning: I'm looking forward to more than just jazz tonight.

She hesitated before hitting send, wondering if the message was too forward, too obvious. Then she remembered Harry's words from their third date, when they'd discussed their communication failures during their arranged marriage:

"No more guessing games," he'd said. "If you want something, tell me. If you need something, ask for it."

She pressed send.

Outside, Harry was leaning against his car, scrolling through his phone when she emerged. He looked up at the sound of her footsteps, his casual expression transforming into something more intense as he read her message. His eyes met hers across the driveway, a silent question in them.

Y/N approached him steadily, confidence growing with each step. The black lace against her skin was her own private knowledge, a secret that made her feel both powerful and vulnerable.

"Hi," she said simply when she reached him.

Harry's gaze traveled slowly from her face down the length of her emerald dress and back up again, appreciation evident in his eyes.

"Hi yourself," he replied, his voice slightly rougher than usual. "You look incredible."

Y/N smiled, noting the slight flush on his cheeks, the way his pupils had dilated. "Thank you. So do you."

He did—the casual elegance of his black trousers and white open-collared shirt suited him perfectly, his cross necklace glinting against his chest where the shirt revealed a hint of his tattoos.

Harry opened the car door for her, his hand brushing hers as she slid past him into the passenger seat. Even that brief contact sent electricity dancing across her skin.

As Harry walked around to the driver's side, Y/N took a steadying breath. The awareness between them had shifted, charged with anticipation and renewed desire.

Once inside the car, Harry turned to her before starting the engine.

"Your text," he began, his voice careful. "I want to make sure I understood what you meant."

Y/N appreciated his caution, his insistence on clarity rather than assumption.

"I meant exactly what you think I meant," she confirmed, meeting his gaze directly. "I'm ready, Harry. If you are."

Something fierce and tender flashed in his eyes. "I've been ready since the moment you agreed to try again," he admitted. "But only when you were sure."

Y/N reached across the console to touch his face, her thumb tracing the edge of his jawline. "I'm sure."

Harry turned his head slightly to press a kiss to her palm, his eyes never leaving hers. The simple gesture carried such intimacy that Y/N felt her breath catch.

"Jazz club first," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent heat pooling in her belly. "I want to do this right."

Y/N smiled, settling back into her seat as Harry started the car. "Jazz club first," she agreed. "Then home."

The word hung between them—home, not his house or the guest house, but home. Their home, if they chose to make it so.

The jazz club was intimate and exclusive, tucked away in a basement in Soho with a strict no-photos policy that allowed its celebrity clientele to relax away from prying eyes. The maître d' greeted Harry by name and led them to a secluded corner table with an excellent view of the small stage where a quartet was setting up.

Under the table, Harry's knee pressed against Y/N's, a point of constant contact as they sipped craft cocktails and listened to the sultry notes filling the dimly lit space. The music wrapped around them like a cocoon, creating the illusion that they were the only people in the room.

"Do you remember our first dance?" Harry asked during a break between sets, his fingers tracing patterns on the back of her hand where it rested on the table.

Y/N nodded, remembering the charity gala where they'd first appeared in public as a supposedly happy couple. "You stepped on my toes twice."

Harry laughed softly. "And you called me a 'graceless giraffe' when no one could hear."

"You deserved it," Y/N teased. "Three Grammy awards and you couldn't manage a simple waltz."

"In my defense, I was distracted," Harry said, his eyes warm in the low light. "You were wearing that blue dress that made your eyes look like the Mediterranean, and I couldn't think straight."

Y/N blinked, surprised by the admission. "You never said anything."

Harry shrugged, a hint of vulnerability crossing his features. "I wasn't supposed to be attracted to you. It wasn't part of our arrangement."

"And now?" Y/N asked softly.

Harry's gaze intensified, his hand tightening around hers. "Now I'm free to tell you that you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and that emerald dress is making it very difficult for me to focus on anything except taking it off you later."

Heat bloomed in Y/N's cheeks, spreading down her neck at his blunt admission. The knowledge of the black lace lingerie beneath her dress felt suddenly more significant.

"Maybe we should dance," she suggested, nodding toward the small space near the stage where a few couples were swaying to the quartet's mellow tunes. "For practice."

Harry stood, offering his hand with a slight bow that managed to be both playful and gallant. "I promise not to step on your toes this time."

On the tiny dance floor, Harry pulled her close, one hand at the small of her back, the other clasping hers against his chest. They moved together with a synchronicity that had been missing during that first awkward waltz months ago—a physical manifestation of how far they'd come.

"Better?" Harry murmured against her temple.

Y/N nodded, allowing herself to melt further into his embrace. "Much better."

As they swayed to the sultry saxophone, Harry's hand dipped slightly lower on her back, his fingers splaying possessively just above the curve of her bottom. Y/N responded by pressing closer, eliminating the last bit of space between their bodies.

She felt his sharp intake of breath, felt the unmistakable evidence of his desire against her hip.

"We should probably go," Harry said, his voice strained. "Before I embarrass myself in public."

Y/N looked up at him through her lashes, a smile playing at her lips. "Wouldn't want to damage your reputation."

Harry gave her a look that was equal parts amusement and hunger. "My reputation can handle it. It's my self-control I'm worried about."

They thanked the band, left a generous tip, and made their way back to the car in record time. The drive home was charged with anticipation, Harry's hand resting on Y/N's thigh, her fingers occasionally brushing the exposed skin at his wrist where he'd rolled up his sleeve.

When they finally pulled into the driveway of the estate, Harry turned to her, his expression serious despite the desire evident in his eyes.

"Guest house or main house?" he asked quietly.

It was more than a practical question about location. It was about territory, about whose space they would occupy for this significant step.

Y/N considered for a moment, then decided: "Main house. Your room."

Something like relief flashed across Harry's features. Whether it was because he preferred his own space or because he saw her choice as symbolic of her willingness to reenter his life fully, Y/N wasn't sure. Perhaps both.

They walked hand in hand to the front door, maintaining a respectable distance that belied the tension humming between them. Once inside, however, with the door safely closed behind them, that pretense evaporated.

Harry turned to her in the dim light of the entryway, his eyes dark with intent. "Last chance to change your mind," he said softly, giving her one final opportunity to set the pace.

In response, Y/N reached for him, threading her fingers through his hair and pulling his mouth down to hers. The kiss was immediately different from the careful goodnight kisses they'd been sharing—deeper, hungrier, laden with two months of restraint finally breaking.

Harry groaned against her mouth, his hands finding her waist and pulling her flush against him. Y/N felt herself being backed against the nearest wall, Harry's body pressing into hers with delicious pressure.

When they broke apart for air, Harry's lips immediately found her neck, trailing hot kisses down to her collarbone.

"Upstairs," Y/N managed, her voice breathless. "Please."

Harry pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, checking one last time for any hesitation. Finding none, he surprised her by scooping her into his arms in one fluid motion.

"Harry!" she gasped, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck.

He grinned, carrying her toward the grand staircase. "I'm doing this properly," he informed her, kissing the tip of her nose. "Carrying my wife over the threshold and all that."

The teasing playfulness was new. A stark contrast to their previous encounters, which had always been underscored by the arrangement, by performance, by anger or desperation. This felt lighter, genuine, yet no less passionate.

Harry's bedroom was exactly as Y/N remembered it, though tidier than the last time she'd been there. The massive bed dominated the space, windows overlooking the moonlit estate grounds.

He set her down gently beside the bed, his hands lingering at her waist.

"You're sure?" he asked one final time, his voice husky with restraint.

In answer, Y/N turned her back to him, sweeping her long hair over one shoulder, a silent invitation to unzip her dress. She felt Harry's fingers at the zipper, heard his sharp intake of breath as the emerald fabric parted to reveal the black lace she'd chosen with this moment in mind.

"Christ, Y/N," he murmured as the dress slipped from her shoulders to pool at her feet, leaving her in nothing but the lingerie and her heels. "You're trying to kill me."

She turned to face him, emboldened by the naked desire in his eyes. "Not kill," she corrected, reaching for the buttons of his shirt. "Just torture. A little."

Harry laughed, the sound transforming into a groan as her fingers brushed against his chest while unfastening his shirt.

"Fair enough," he conceded, helping her push the fabric from his shoulders, revealing the familiar landscape of tattoos across his torso. "I probably deserve some torture."

Y/N's hands explored his chest, tracing the lines of ink she'd once known by heart. "Less talking," she suggested, her fingers dipping to the waistband of his trousers. "More action."

Harry's eyes darkened at her bold touch. "Yes, ma'am."

“You have condoms right?”

Harry paused, his eyes, darkened with desire, cleared slightly at her question.

"Yeah, I have condoms," he confirmed, voice rough. "In the drawer."

Y/N nodded, relieved. Though they'd been careless in the past, this new beginning deserved more thoughtfulness. Harry seemed to appreciate her caution, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before returning to the more heated exploration of her neck and shoulders.

As his lips traced a path down her body, Y/N pushed against his chest, surprising him. He pulled back immediately, concern flashing across his features.

"Everything okay?" he asked, searching her face.

Y/N smiled, appreciating his instant responsiveness to her signals. "Everything's perfect. I just want to..."

Instead of finishing her sentence, she sank to her knees in front of him, her hands smoothing up his thighs. Harry's breath caught audibly as he realized her intention.

"Y/N," he groaned, watching as she reached for his belt.

She looked up at him through her lashes, fingers working the leather strap. "Let me take care of you first."

Harry's hand caught hers just as she began to lower the zipper of his trousers.

"Wait," he said, his voice strained with the effort of stopping her. "Not like this."

Confusion flickered across Y/N's face, quickly followed by uncertainty. Had she misread his desires?

Harry must have seen the question in her eyes because he quickly clarified: "Not because I don't want it—fuck, I want it more than you know. But not with you on your knees on this hard floor."

He reached down, gently pulling her to her feet. "Your knees will be bruised to hell on this wood," he explained, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And I'd rather see your beautiful face anyway."

The thoughtfulness of his concern touched something deep in Y/N—it was such a small thing, but indicative of how their dynamic had shifted.

Harry moved to sit on the edge of the bed, then lay back, extending his hand to her. "Come here."

Y/N took his hand, allowing him to guide her to stand between his parted legs. From this position, he looked up at her with such naked adoration that it almost took her breath away.

"Much better," he murmured, hands sliding up the backs of her thighs to cup her bottom through the black lace. "Now you can do whatever you want without hurting yourself."

Y/N smiled, bending to kiss him briefly before returning her attention to his belt, which she unfastened with deliberate slowness. Harry's breathing grew more ragged as she lowered his zipper and helped him lift his hips to push his trousers and boxers down.

His cock sprang free, hard and already leaking at the tip. Y/N took a moment to appreciate the sight of him—all lean muscle and tattoos against the dark bedding, his eyes hooded as he watched her watching him.

She leaned over him, maintaining eye contact as she wrapped her hand around his length, giving him a few slow, experimental strokes that made his hips buck involuntarily.

"Fuck," he breathed, one hand fisting in the bedsheets. "I've missed your touch."

Y/N smiled, lowering her head to press a kiss to the sensitive tip. Harry's whole body tensed, a string of incoherent curses falling from his lips as she took him into her mouth.

She worked him slowly at first, relearning what he liked, what made his breath hitch and his hands clench. Harry's fingers tangled gently in her hair, not guiding or pushing, just connecting.

"God, Y/N," he groaned as she took him deeper, hollowing her cheeks around him. "Your mouth... fucking perfect."

The praise sent a thrill through her, intensifying her own arousal as she continued her ministrations. Harry's hips began to move in small, controlled thrusts, careful not to push too deep.

When she felt his thighs trembling with the effort of restraint, Y/N increased her pace, adding a twist of her hand at the base where her mouth couldn't reach. Harry's breathing turned ragged, his grip in her hair tightening slightly.

"Wait," he managed, his voice wrecked. "I'm too close. Want to be inside you."

Y/N pulled off with a slow drag of her lips that made him shudder. Before she could respond, Harry was moving, sitting up and pulling her onto the bed with him in one fluid motion. He rolled them so she was beneath him, his weight a welcome pressure against her body.

"My turn," he murmured against her lips, kissing her deeply before beginning a meandering path down her body.

He took his time with her breasts, removing the black lace bra with reverent hands to reveal her to his hungry gaze.

"Beautiful," he whispered, cupping their weight in his palms. "So fucking beautiful."

His mouth closed around one nipple, tongue swirling as his thumb teased the other to a stiff peak. Y/N arched into the sensation, her hands finding purchase in his hair.

Harry lavished attention on her breasts until she was squirming beneath him, desperate for more direct stimulation. Only then did he continue his journey downward, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her ribs, her stomach, the jut of her hipbones.

When he reached the waistband of her panties, he looked up, seeking permission. Y/N nodded, lifting her hips to help as he slowly peeled the lace down her legs.

Harry settled between her thighs, his broad shoulders spreading her legs wider. The position was vulnerable, intimate.Y/N felt exposed in ways that went beyond the physical as Harry gazed at her most private place with undisguised hunger.

"I could look at you forever," he said softly, his breath warm against her sensitive skin. "But I'd rather taste you."

Before Y/N could respond, Harry's mouth was on her, his tongue making a long, slow stroke through her folds that had her gasping and clutching at the sheets. He hummed his approval against her, the vibration adding another layer to the sensation.

"You taste even better than I remembered," he murmured, his words punctuated by the deliberate circles of his tongue around her clit. "So sweet, so wet for me."

Y/N moaned, her hips lifting instinctively toward his mouth. Harry's large hands curled around her thighs, holding her open to his attentions.

He was thorough, alternating between broad strokes of his tongue and more focused attention to her clit. When he slipped one finger inside her, then two, curling them to find that spot that made her see stars, Y/N cried out, her back arching off the bed.

"That's it," Harry encouraged, his voice rough with arousal. "Let me hear you, love. Want to know how good I'm making you feel."

The combination of his fingers inside her, his tongue on her clit, and the praise falling from his lips pushed Y/N rapidly toward the edge. Her thighs began to tremble, her breath coming in short, sharp pants.

"Harry," she gasped, a warning and a plea.

He increased his efforts, adding a third finger and sucking gently on her clit. The pressure built and built until Y/N couldn't hold back any longer, crashing over the edge with a cry that might have been his name.

Harry worked her through it, easing the pressure but not stopping entirely until the aftershocks had subsided and she pushed weakly at his head, oversensitive.

He pressed a final kiss to her inner thigh before moving up her body, his expression one of profound satisfaction as he took in her flushed face and heavy-lidded eyes.

"You're fucking gorgeous when you come," he told her, brushing sweat-dampened hair from her forehead. "Most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Y/N laughed breathlessly, still floating in post-orgasmic bliss. "If I'd known you were this good with your mouth, I might have been nicer to you from the beginning."

Harry grinned, the expression boyish despite the desire still evident in his eyes. "I'm good with more than just my mouth," he reminded her, pressing his still-hard length against her thigh. "But only if you're ready."

Y/N reached between them, wrapping her fingers around him once more. "I'm ready," she confirmed, guiding him toward her entrance. "Condom first."

Harry nodded, reaching toward the bedside drawer. As he retrieved protection, Y/N took a moment to appreciate the lean muscles of his back, the tattoos that decorated his skin like a private gallery.

When he turned back to her, sheathed and ready, Y/N opened her arms in wordless invitation. Harry settled between her thighs, bracing his weight on his forearms as he positioned himself at her entrance.

He paused there, eyes locked on hers. "This is different," he said softly, the simple statement laden with meaning. "This isn't like before."

"I know," she whispered, reaching up to touch his face. "It's more real this time."

Harry turned his head to press a kiss to her palm, then slowly, reverently pushed inside her. They both gasped at the sensation, at the perfect rightness of being joined after so long apart.

He stilled once fully seated, giving her time to adjust and himself time to regain control. When Y/N shifted her hips impatiently, he began to move in long, deep strokes that had her clutching at his shoulders.

"You feel so good," he groaned, dropping his head to the crook of her neck. "So tight, so perfect around me."

Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist, changing the angle so he hit that spot deep inside with every thrust. The new position drew a string of curses from Harry, his pace increasing as his control began to slip.

"That's it," Y/N encouraged, nails digging into his back. "Harder, Harry. I need more."

Harry complied immediately, driving into her with renewed intensity. The headboard began to hit the wall with each powerful thrust, adding a rhythmic backdrop to their shared moans and gasps.

When Harry slipped a hand between them to circle her clit with his thumb, Y/N felt herself rapidly approaching another peak. Her inner muscles clenched around him, drawing a strangled groan from his throat.

"I love you," Harry said raggedly as their pace increased, his hands moving from her hips to cup her face. "I love you, Y/N. Only you."

She nodded, unable to form words. 

"Come for me again," he urged, his voice wrecked with pleasure and exertion. "Want to feel you come around my cock."

His crude words, combined with the dual stimulation of his thumb on her clit and his cock hitting that perfect spot inside her, sent Y/N spiraling into her second orgasm. She cried out his name, her body arching beneath him as waves of pleasure crashed through her.

The feeling of her inner walls pulsing around him pushed Harry over the edge. With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself fully inside her and came with a hoarse shout, his body shuddering against hers.

For several long moments, they remained locked together, both too overwhelmed to move. Harry's weight pressed Y/N into the mattress, but she welcomed it, her arms wrapped tightly around his sweat-slicked back.

Finally, Harry stirred, pressing a tender kiss to her temple before carefully withdrawing. He disposed of the condom in the ensuite bathroom, then returned to the bed where Y/N lay in a pleasant daze.

Instead of immediately pulling her into his arms as he might have done in the past, Harry paused at the edge of the bed, an uncharacteristic uncertainty in his expression.

"Will you stay?" he asked quietly. "For the night, I mean."

"Yes," she said simply, reaching out her hand to him. "I'll stay."

Relief and joy flashed across Harry's features as he took her hand and joined her in the bed, pulling the covers over both of them. He gathered her against his chest, his chin resting on the top of her head.

"Good," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Because I'm not ready to let you go yet."

Y/N smiled against his skin, hearing the deeper meaning behind his words. Not just for tonight, but for all the nights to come.

"Then don't," she whispered, closing her eyes and letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull her toward sleep. "I'm not going anywhere."

· · ─────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·

Taglist: @mysunflowerposts @lydiasfalling @panini @ell0ra-br3kk3r @donutsandpalmtrees @sunshinemoonsposts @angeldavis777 @fangirl509east @maudie-duan @indierockgirrl @harryssunflower17 @lizsogolden @daphnesutton @spinninc @behindmygreyeyes @wheredidmyeyesgo @matildasatellite @drewrry @inlikea-coolway @jerseygirlinca @nosebeers

[rosemariiaa]

~A Family Christmas Eve~

˖˙ ᰋ ── pairing: Paige x Azzi

˖˙ ᰋ ── rosie’s note: okkk, i loved the prompts in my inbox but i had two that were my favs so i out those together, i live for pazzi as moms omgg! but sadly this is the last oneshot until after a few chapter of HS, which should be coming out soon hah.. anyway happy reading lovelies 💌

˖˙ ᰋ ── theme: fluff

enjoy!!!

The living room is alive with the warm glow of Christmas lights reflecting off the shiny ornaments scattered on the coffee table. The smell of pine mingles with hints of hot chocolate from the kitchen, and the faint sounds of Christmas music play in the background. Azzi is kneeling in front of the couch, wrestling a tiny red pajama set onto a squirming two-year-old who has ideas of her own.

“Evie,” Azzi says patiently, holding up the pajama top. “Arms up, baby. Come on.”

Evie, soft curls framing her round face and lips set in a pout, crosses her arms instead. “Cookies,” she declares firmly, her voice carrying the kind of conviction only a toddler can manage.

Azzi sighs, sitting back on her heels and glancing toward the bedroom door. “Paige!” she calls out, clearly trying not to laugh.

“What?” Paige yells back from the living room.

“Your daughter’s holding me hostage,” Azzi shouts, her voice light but full of mock frustration.

Evie gasps dramatically. “Not hotage!” she insists, her little face scrunching up in indignation.

Paige appears in the doorway, her blonde hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, wearing a matching red pajama set. Her grin is immediate as she takes in the sight of Azzi kneeling on the floor and Evie sitting on the bed, stubbornly bare-armed. “What’s the problem?” Paige asks, crossing her arms.

“She won’t let me get her dressed because she wants to bake cookies right now,” Azzi explains, giving Paige a helpless look.

Evie points a tiny finger at Azzi. “Cookies now, Mama!”

Paige bites back a laugh and crouches to Evie’s level, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Okay, Evie,” she says, her voice conspiratorial. “How about this—if you let Mama get you dressed, I’ll let you pick the first ornament for the tree. Deal?”

Evie narrows her eyes, clearly weighing her options before finally relenting with a dramatic sigh. “Fine,” she says, lifting her arms.

Azzi mutters a quiet “thank you” under her breath as she slips the pajama top over Evie’s head.

Just as they’re finishing, the sound of loud banging echoes from the front door. Paige groans, standing up quickly. “Oh my God. Who’s about to break our house down?”

Azzi stands, scooping Evie into her arms, the little girl’s curls bouncing as she giggles. “I have a guess,” Azzi says, smirking.

Paige opens the door to find the entire team—Caroline, KK, Ice, Morgan, Yanna, Sarah, Nika, and Amari—crowded on the porch in matching Christmas sweaters and grinning like maniacs.

“Twin!” Nika shouts, barging in first to give Paige a huge hug that nearly knocks her over.

“You can’t just—” Paige starts, but before she can finish, the rest of the team is pouring into the house, hugging both her and Azzi, and exclaiming over how festive everything looks.

“Where’s the star of the show?” Ice asks, looking around dramatically.

As if on cue, Evie wiggles out of Azzi’s arms and bolts toward Ice. “Auntie Icey!” she yells, throwing herself at Ice, who catches her with practiced ease.

“There she is!” Ice says, spinning Evie around.

The room quickly turns into a loud, chaotic swirl of hugs and laughter. Caroline helps Evie unwrap a candy cane, KK heads straight for the snacks Paige left out on the counter, and Amari spots the tree and claps her hands. “Alright, where do we start?”

“Nika, you’re slacking,” Azzi teases as Nika sits on the couch, already holding a mug of hot chocolate. “I thought you were her favorite.”

“I am her favorite,” Nika retorts, holding out her arms. “Right, Evie? Come to Auntie Nika.”

Evie scrambles out of Ice’s arms and runs to Nika, who picks her up and holds her close. “Told you,” Nika says smugly, sticking her tongue out at Azzi.

“Rah!” Evie says suddenly, spotting Sarah next.

Sarah grins, holding out her hand for a high five. “What’s up, Evie girl?”

“Moogan,” Evie says, pointing at the brunette, her small brow furrowed.

Morgan crouches down with a patient smile. “Mooorgan,” she says slowly, exaggerating the sounds. “Can you say it?”

“Moooo-gin,” Evie tries, frowning when it doesn’t come out right.

“It’s okay, baby,” Azzi teases, stepping forward and resting a hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “Morgan’s just the least favorite, anyway.”

“Wow, Fudd,” Morgan deadpans, narrowing her eyes as the group bursts into laughter.

Paige bites back a grin, watching Morgan attempt to recover her pride as Evie plants a soft kiss on her cheek to make up for it. “See? She loves you,” Paige says through her laughter. “You’re just not Nika.”

“None of us are,” Ice chimes in, throwing a fake glare at Nika, who’s still smugly cuddling Evie like a prized trophy.

“Alright, alright,” Azzi interrupts with a laugh, clapping her hands. “We still have a tree to decorate, stockings to hang, and yes,” she shoots a look at Evie, “cookies to bake.”

“Cookies!” Evie squeals excitedly, squirming until Nika sets her down. She dashes toward the kitchen, only to be intercepted by Caroline.

“Hold up, Evie. Ornaments first,” Caroline says, scooping her up and spinning her around.

Paige watches it all unfold with a fond smile, her arms crossed as she leans against the wall. She and Azzi have hosted team gatherings before, but this—everyone together, laughing, filling their home with chaos and love—this feels different. It feels special.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Azzi murmurs, stepping up beside her and bumping Paige’s shoulder lightly.

Paige turns her head, grinning. “Just thinking about how lucky we are. Look at this.” She gestures at the scene in front of them—KK and Amari tangled in lights, Sarah sorting ornaments while Ice takes an entire strand of garland for herself like a scarf, and Morgan carefully helping Evie pick the first ornament for the tree.

Azzi follows Paige’s gaze, her lips curving into a soft smile. “Yeah. We are lucky.”

“Also, you should’ve named her Christmas Eve,” Paige jokes, nudging Azzi again. “Because then it’d be Evie on Christmas Eve.”

Azzi groans, rolling her eyes. “Paige, that joke was awful.”

“No, no, it’s brilliant,” Paige insists, grinning even wider. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong,” Azzi deadpans, but there’s no hiding the affectionate gleam in her eyes.

Before Paige can respond, Evie toddles over to them with an ornament clutched in her hand—a glittery silver star. “Mommy, Mama, look!”

Paige crouches down, holding out her hand so Evie can proudly place the star in her palm. “Perfect choice, baby,” she says, ruffling the little girl’s curls.

“Hey, Eve,” Nika calls from the couch. “Can I pick the next ornament?”

“No!” Evie says immediately, turning to look at her auntie with wide, scandalized eyes.

The entire room erupts in laughter, and Paige scoops Evie into her arms, peppering kisses on her cheeks. “Don’t worry, baby, you’re in charge tonight.”

Azzi watches them with a soft look on her face, her heart swelling at the sight of Paige laughing with their daughter. It’s loud and chaotic and entirely imperfect, but it’s theirs—this is home.

Just then, Evie runs to the window and presses her small hands against the glass. “Mama, Mommy! Deer!” she shouts excitedly, pointing outside.

Azzi and Paige exchange a surprised glance, walking over to the window just in time to see a small herd of deer grazing in their front yard, the snow lightly dusting their backs. The scene is serene, almost magical against the Christmas lights twinkling around their home.

“Well, looks like Santa’s helpers are here early,” Paige says with a grin.

Evie’s eyes light up. “Deers! Santa’s deers!”

Azzi wraps her arm around Paige’s waist, leaning in to whisper, “This is the Christmas magic I wanted for her.”

“Me too,” Paige replies softly, her voice filled with emotion as she pulls Evie into her arms, kissing the top of her head.

As the night goes on, the team makes themselves at home in every corner of the house. The tree gets decorated, stockings are hung, and the smell of cookies soon fills the kitchen as Evie proudly stands on a stepstool, helping Sarah and Caroline cut out shapes from the dough.

Paige sneaks a piece of cookie dough when Azzi isn’t looking, only to get swatted on the arm when she’s caught.

“Mommy!” Evie scolds, her little brows furrowed. “No eat dough.”

“Yeah, Mommy,” Azzi adds, giving Paige a pointed look.

“Traitors,” Paige mutters under her breath, though she can’t stop the grin tugging at her lips.

As the chaos swirls, Paige’s eyes narrow slightly as Morgan subtly nudges Azzi toward the dining room. “Az, can you help me for a second? These lights are tangled, and it’s a disaster.”

Azzi frowns, clearly suspicious. “Why can’t you ask KK or Amari?”

“They’ll just laugh at me,” Morgan says, pouting. “Come on, teamwork.”

Paige watches them disappear, her smirk growing as she turns back to the group. “Alright, you guys have five minutes, tops.”

“Five minutes to what?” Caroline asks, already grinning as Ice pulls a roll of wrapping paper out from behind the couch.

“To wrap Paige as Azzi’s present,” KK says gleefully, tearing a piece of tape with her teeth.

“Not this again, that’s not what we talked about,” Paige groans. “I swear—”

“Shut up it’s tradition,” Ice insists. “The wives have to be presents.”

“It’s dumb,” Paige grumbles, even as Nika swoops in to lift Evie. “Evie, do you want to help wrap Mommy?”

Evie gasps, her little hands clapping together. “Mommy’s a pwesent?!”

“Yep,” Nika confirms, pulling Evie into her lap with the red ribbon in hand. “Special delivery for Mama Azzi.”

“Traitors,” Paige mutters as Caroline and Amari start clearing space, KK expertly lining up wrapping paper. “Every single one of you.”

“You’ll survive,” Ice grins, pulling Paige toward the center of the room.

—————

Meanwhile, in the dining room, Azzi is watching Morgan fiddle pointlessly with a string of lights. “I still don’t understand why you needed—”

“Almost done!” Morgan blurts out nervously. “Just—wait here for a second, okay?”

Azzi squints at her suspiciously. “You’re stalling.”

Morgan flashes an awkward smile. “Team spirit?”

Azzi mutters under her breath as Morgan blocks the doorway again, a little too obviously.

Back in the living room, Paige stands awkwardly, her arms wrapped tightly against her body under crinkled red and white paper. Ice slaps a giant bow onto her shoulder while KK sticks the finishing tag to Paige’s chest. In wobbly toddler letters, it reads: “To Mama, From Mommy.”

“Perfect,” Caroline says, grinning at her work.

“Azzi’s gonna kill you,” Paige mutters as Evie bounces excitedly.

Amari peeks toward the dining room. “She’s coming back! Get ready.”

The lights dim slightly, and Evie squeals in anticipation as the team scurries into position.

Morgan finally gives up and pushes Azzi toward the doorway. “Go see your surprise.”

Azzi steps into the living room, freezing as her gaze lands on Paige—fully wrapped, ribbon-tied, and looking both annoyed and amused. “What… is happening?”

“Merry Christmas, Mama!” Evie cries gleefully, pointing at Paige. “Mommy’s pwesent!”

The team bursts into laughter as Paige shuffles forward, the paper crackling loudly. “Your wife is the best gift you’ll ever get.”

Azzi blinks, then breaks into a soft, helpless laugh. “Oh my God. You guys did this?”

Evie scrambles over to hug Paige’s leg, her little arms patting the paper. “Mommy’s pwetty,” she declares proudly.

Azzi walks over, shaking her head as she cups Paige’s face. “You’re ridiculous.”

Paige smirks. “So… do you like your gift?”

Azzi leans in, pressing a quick kiss to Paige’s lips. “I think I’ll keep you.”

The team erupts into cheers, Evie clapping happily as Paige grins triumphantly. “Told you I was the best gift.”

“Wrapped and all,” Azzi teases softly, her gaze warm as she takes in the chaotic scene of their family. “Merry Christmas, P.”

Paige’s smile softens, her voice equally tender. “Merry Christmas, Az.”

—————

˖˙ ᰋ ── taglist:

@thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @juspeaks @sierrale8ne @imaginespazzi @makethemhoesmad @kmoneymartini @pazzilover101 @starlighttsv @lupinqs @absolutelydreadful @ashortyluvsports @melpthatsme @d3arapril @heyitssells

[kayjaywrites]

Ink & Beans (Azriel x Reader Oneshot)

D20 Dice Roll Prompt: 11. “You’re definitely the only person I would do this for.” Fluff/Humor/SFW

Summary: You ask Azriel to spy on someone for gossip and he does it.

Word Count: ~2,100

Content Warning: None really, Az gets a little horned up but it's not explicit.

Authors Notes: I have a prompt list going for when I have writer's block. I’m gonna start rolling a d20 dice and do the prompt it lands on, replacing the finished prompt with a new one. I’d love to add requests and ideas from you guys to the list!

XxXx

Azriel arrived at your favorite coffee shop three hours before you. Ink & Beans was a small business within The Rainbow, founded by a family of Fae known for their writing prowess. The youngest daughter of the family, Raychelle, did not inherit the family’s writing talent, but loved creative writing all the same. Instead of stewing on her back to back publication rejections, she threw herself into creating a safe creative space for herself, and anyone else like her. The result was a questionably named cafe with workshops, peer editors, late hours, and caffeine. It was a fool proof business model really. Even before Azriel got close to you, he enjoyed visiting the cafe.

Everything about the place oozed comfort. The lights, warm and dim, were soothing and complimented the rustic cottage theme well. The booths were cozy, yet supportive, and although Azriel had been nursing his tea for 2 and half hours he did not feel sore for sitting so long.

Now, it wasn’t unusual for him to loiter around alone. People watching and eavesdropping were a huge part of his job after all. However if anyone had asked him yesterday if he’d ever spy within Ink & Bean he would have said no. There was never a reason to investigate the cafe, he was on a first name basis with the owner and most of the regulars.

Yet, here he was, deploying his shadows and listening in to customer and staff conversations. All because he was a sucker.

He loved listening to you talk. It didn’t matter what you were hyper focusing on, he couldn’t get enough of your passion. So when you dove into an elaborate breakdown of the relationships among those that frequent Ink & Beans he was all too happy to listen. He didn’t like drama that involved him, but hearing other people’s drama was one of his favorite things about being a spymaster. He never got mad at unintentional gossip while on missions, it was often a highlight for him.

So yeah, he was a little invested in your theory that one of the regulars, a quiet male named Fin, was flirting with Raychelle, and that Raychelle was flirting back. He’d been going there with you for almost a decade now, and he’d never seen Raychelle show interest in anyone. If anything he’d witnessed her curb potential suitors with efficient politeness.

And you were talking with such conviction, eyes fiery and excited when he shared your curiosity. You swept him up in that magnitude of yours, the same pull that made you a best selling romance author he supposed. Your enthusiasm became his, and suddenly he was sharing his own theories.

He’d noticed Fin blushing at Raychelle on occasion when she took his order, but never saw him flustered when another employee was at the register. You’d noticed that too, and somehow by the end of the gossip session he had agreed to working on his day off. 

Like a sucker.

Just like you said, Fin came by on his lunch break and spent it chatting with Raychelle in between rushes. You were willing to bet money that if he listened in on the conversation, he would learn the true nature of their relationship, and before he knew what he was doing he was agreeing to stake out the place for three hours for you.

Only for you to be so wrong. He was a regular enough that he figured his presence wouldn’t be anything of note. Apparently his presence without you was fuel for the gossip train.

Jennifer, a young local artist who came in on her daily coffee run for her office had made an offhand comment to the new girl on the register, Heather, “It was rare to see Azriel here without Ms. Reader.” 

Two of the regular weekday afternoon dishwashers in the back were wondering if you were standing Azriel up, and if they thought they had a chance with you. This update from the shadows had left him fuming, because no, they did not have a chance with you if he had anything to say about it.

A good looking female came in, evidentantly a first time customer as she asked Raychelle what she would recommend, and then subtly but not subtle enough gestured to Azriel and asked if he was single. In which Raychelle said that he wasn’t.

Which wasn’t true, and he was sure Raychelle knew he was unattached.

Then Fin finally showed up for his lunch break, and Raychelle almost caught Azriel watching them as she followed Fin to a secluded booth on the opposite side of the cafe than him. They were just out of earshot so his shadows did the listening for him.

And boy oh boy. The gossip they overheard was juicy.

Raychelle and Fin spent the entire lunch hour talking about how obvious it was that you were in love with Azriel. Raychelle was furious at him for being so oblivious to “what was right in front of him”. Fin was starting to think that you were secretly dating Azriel already, because there was no way the spymaster of the Night Court didn’t notice your feelings. According to them, you looked at him like he’d hung the stars in the sky. You checked him out all the time. When he wasn’t around, you talked about how much you missed him, and were here more often while he was on missions.

Azriel’s head was spinning from the new intel by the time you sat yourself in the booth across from him. For nearly three hours the most popular topic of gossip within Ink & Beans was you.

“So did you learn anything interesting?” You dove right into it, foregoing a greeting as you leaned across the small table, studying him with eager excitement.

“Yes.” Azriel took in how oblivious you were, so focused on him you didn’t notice the way surrounding conversations quieted down around you. Was this how it always was when you guys met up here? If so, Azriel understood Raychelle’s annoyance. How had he not noticed?

You shifted in your seat, your hand drumming on the wooden tabletop in impatience. “And?”

“You know you are the only person I’d ever do something like this for, right?” Azriel said instead.

Perplexed, you cocked your head to the side. “Uh, I guess. So?”

“So: I don’t typically just take jobs without some sort of payment. Especially on my day off.” Azriel leaned back, crossing his arms casually over his chest as an amused smile found his lips.

“Are you trying to charge me, spymaster?” Your voice rose in pitch, incredulous.

He merely shrugged. “The intel was…valuable. Figured I should at least get something out of it.”

You laughed, the type of twinkling delight that had a similar joy rising in his own chest. “Alright, alright you’ve sold me, whatever you want, but I’ve got to know what you’ve learned this instant it’s killing me.”

Azriel could hear a pin drop in the room. He clocked movement behind the counter, the two male dishwashers had come upfront, likely curious, they did fancy you after all. Their presence had his easygoing smile falling as he fixed you with a serious stare.

Whatever he wanted, right? That was a deal he couldn’t pass up.

“I arrived at 10am. From 10am-12:02pm no one spoke about Raychelle and Fin. There is no evidence of anyone else suspecting Raychelle and Fin to fancy each other. You were correct in noting that Fin would come for his 1hr lunch break. From 12:02pm-1:49pm Fin and Raychelle talked in a booth away from the crowded part of the cafe, but not about their feelings for each other or their relationship.”

Your lips parted, confusion creasing your brow. “Well that doesn’t seem to pass as ‘valuable intel’ to me.” You snarked.

“Hmm,” He nodded, unable to keep the mischief out of his voice as he spoke, “the valuable intel is in who they were actually gossiping about.”

Your jaw dropped open, falling for his set up hook, line, and sinker, “Ohhhhh, and who were they gossiping about?”

Pausing for dramatic effect, he studied you long enough for you to visibly grow nervous. “You.” Azriel revealed.

Your nostrils flared, your breath hitching as you averted your gaze. It was rare for him to see you rendered speechless. “No guesses on what they were saying about you?” He inquired.

You barely managed to meet his gaze for a second before your eyes shifted to a spot on the wall beside his head. “I have a theory,” you confessed, bashful, “but would prefer to keep it to myself until you finish your report.”

Azriel hummed in response, enjoying the way your gaze would dart back to his face, like you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him. He knew that he looked at you in much the same way.

“Everyone here either thinks we're secretly dating, or going to be dating soon. Raychelle and Fin spent Fin’s lunch break commiserating on how frustrating it was to watch us. The people of Ink & Beans think you are in love with me.”

It was so quiet in the room he could hear your heartbeat pickup. He wouldn’t be surprised if it felt like it was in your throat instead of your chest, so Azriel continued his debrief to spare you having to find a response. “And I think they’re right, because they were right about the other person they were gossiping about too. I also was a popular topic of conversation these last three hours, they were right about what they thought about me too. I think you are in love with me–I hope you are in love with me, because I am in love with you.”

“Azriel,” His name was whispered like a prayer on an exhale, “maybe we should have this conversation in a more private location.” Your face was beat red, and you looked like you were about to pass out.

You were never one for making a scene in public. Honestly, this was all probably mortifying for you. Normally, it would be for him too, but he remembered the dishwashing males plotting ways to woo you.

“Of course,” Azriel stood, stretching his wings out as he reached for your hand and guided you to stand next to him, “but first I want my payment. Whatever I want, right? That’s what you said.”

You looked utterly lost, unable to look him in the eye for too long, but too confused to not search for his intentions in his facial expression. “Okay, sure, what would you like, I don’t have much with me right now so I don’t know why this has to happen this moment, but I’ll do my best–”

Azriel always found your nervous rambling cute. He knew you’d be upset with him if he let you go on for much longer in front of everyone at Ink & Beans. “I’m sure you can provide me with a kiss, unless you have a specific lipstick in mind for our first kiss?”

You gaped at him, and he cupped your cheek with one of his hands, his scars rough against your soft skin. Gently, he closed your mouth, leaning in slowly just in case you wanted to pull away. But you didn’t, his lips touched yours, and you melted into him. Your smaller, curvier body pressed tight against his front as the kiss deepened and found rhythm.

Too soon, reality seemed to find the both of you again, and Azriel was aware that he was starting to get aroused very publically in your favorite coffee shop. One look at you, and it seemed you were no better off than him, the gleam in your eyes sending thrills down his spine. 

“I’ve changed my mind,” Azriel bent down to whisper in your ear, and you shivered, “I think I do want to continue this conversation in a more private location.”

You turned your face, lips brushing against his pulse point in his neck as you spoke. “Me too.”

XxXx

Upon returning to Ink & Beans after the mating frenzy subsided, you and Azriel were greeted by tarps, workers, and piles of building supplies outside of the storefront. Raychelle had been signing something on a clipboard when she caught sight of you, and hurried to embrace you, clipboard forgotten on the ground where she dropped it.

She’d used the winnings from a store wide bet to expand the shop. She and Fin had split the winnings, the only two fae to predict your and Azriel’s mating bond.

XxXx

My inbox is open, drop requests to be added to my prompt list! My other work can be found here!

[lynnieverse]

going going gone // rafe cameron

oneshot

ex!rafe cameron x reader

synopsis: you and rafe broke up a little over a month ago, and you're just now seeing him for the first time since...in a bar. once you talk, you realize you might have made a mistake.

1k words

From the first line you know it’s him. The deep, intoxicating voice you’d heard every car ride together filtered out of the bar’s speakers loudly. You whip your head around, immediately locking eyes with Rafe on stage. He’s in jeans and a t-shirt, but he looks good. Too good.

People are talking and laughing animatedly around you, but it all fades to the background as you hear what song he’s decided to sing.

“Like a runaway southbound train, like an Arizona desert rain, like lightning in the sky, like fireworks in July…”

Your heart drops at the realization, mouth parting slightly. His blue eyes penetrate yours with an intensity you almost can’t handle. You watch him pull the microphone from the stand and move around on stage, but he never stops looking at you.

You remember when he first played you this song, saying it was one of his favorites. You never understood why, but you could never hear it without crying.

You didn’t think going out to a karaoke bar with your girlfriends would end up like this. You haven’t seen him since the breakup, and you didn’t really want to. Things hadn’t ended the best, everything was left pretty open-ended.

“It’s like she was made for moving on, that girl is going going gone…”

Tears prick your eyes. Is that what he thought? You’re the first to admit you’re bad at relationships. You get scared easily. But putting the blame solely on you was just wrong. You felt him pulling away. You know you did. So why was this hitting so hard?

“Lovin’ her’s like roping in the wind…” he sang, voice cracking slightly.

You can see in his eyes he was trying to tell you something. You’re frozen, drink in hand, ignoring your friends' questions around you. This man…this man. He still has a hold on you. You’re entranced as he sings, words coming out of his mouth and stabbing you in the heart.

Rafe finishes his song, discreetly wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, and quickly leaves the stage. You immediately panic, trying not to lose him in the crowd.

“I’ll be back, I have to–” you don’t finish your sentence to your friend––Kiara––not even glancing back.

“What? Y/N!” she calls after you as you start pushing your way through the crowd. You ignore her, her voice blending into the rest the farther you get. You absentmindedly drop your cup, sticky liquid splashing on your ankles.

When you finally reach the back of the bar, you spot him. He’s sitting on a barstool, whiskey in hand, head hanging low.

“Rafe,” you say softly as you approach, making him jump.

“Y/N…what’re you doing here?” He sounds exhausted, eyes rimmed with red, and he can barely look at you.

“I…I honestly don’t know. I just–I felt like I needed to talk to you after that.” Rafe sighed, swirling the amber liquid in his glass before downing it in one gulp.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N? You hurt me.”

You scrunch your eyebrows, crossing your arms over your chest. “I hurt you? Are you serious? You could hardly stand to be in the room with me towards the end. You were sneaking around, hiding your phone, and barely speaking to me! What was I supposed to think, Rafe? I couldn’t–” You run a hand through your hair.

“That’s what this about? Oh my God.” Rafe laughs in disbelief. Without warning he pushes the barstool out and stands up, gripping her arm gently and dragging her out of the bar.

“Hey! What’re you–Rafe!” You struggle against his hold, curious eyes watching you both but not bothering to help. As you’re pulled into the chilly night air, you wrench out of his grasp. “What is wrong with you?”

Rafe tugs on his hair in frustration. “Y/N. I was trying to surprise you for your birthday, but it killed me to lie to you! I wasn’t pulling away or cheating or whatever you thought!” Your mouth parts slightly, all the air leaving your lungs. The world stops as you stare at him. What?

“What’re you–what are you talking about?” That couldn’t be true…could it?

“I should’ve just told you–God I cannot believe that this was the problem!” Rafe throws his hands in the air.

“I thought you were tired of me!”

“So you just left? I thought you didn’t love me anymore! I thought you couldn’t handle me just like everyone else,” his voice broke. You immediately feel terrible. You had just packed your stuff and left a note…you didn’t even hear him out.

You are such an asshole.

“I’m so sorry, Rafe, I had no idea.” His eyes blazed. You’d never seen him look so angry. He slowly stalks towards you, only stopping when your chests are touching. The heat radiating off of him helps against the bit of the winter wind. You look up at him as a tear trails down your cheek. His hand reaches up, wiping your cheek, before moving slightly to caress the back of your head. His breath fans against your cheeks, eyes glassy as he stares down at you.

“Don’t ever leave me again. Not without talking to me first.” Then, his lips were on yours. Your body immediately reacted, shifting impossibly closer to him. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, needing more.

After an eternity you break apart, breathless. Lipstick is smudged on the corner of Rafe’s upturned lips, and you wipe it away fondly. For the first time in weeks you could breathe again. You’d almost forgotten how much comfort he brought you.

He didn’t look mad anymore, but a deeper conversation was definitely needed. But for now, you were just content with having the love of your life back.

And this time, you aren’t going anywhere.

[bohnerrific69]

── .✧ naked (drabble/headcanon)

pairing: peter maximoff x fem!reader

words count: 1.0k | warnings and tags: suggestive themes (there's no smut btw), voyeurism, genitalia/body (peter) descriptions. english is not my first language (im still learning by self-thaught!)

⟣ masterlist | author's note: unbeliavable that the first thing of that i write AND post here it's just some quick silly headcannon/thoughts off peter horny behavior. 🫠 right now i have too many wips on the queue to finish, so maybe in the future i rewrite this as a oneshot properly! (enter my taglist here)

Peter is the kind of guy who, when reaching the peak of his independence having his own house, and when the summer arrives with its dreadful heat waves, would simply take off his clothes and walk around the house naked. Well, at first he got a little apprehensive of doing that, staying on his nice boxers for a few days - only two - till finally letting his body free as mother nature blessed.

Until a while later, a moving truck showed up at the neighbor's empty house and he saw a beautiful and hot girl, you, moving there. He even greeted and welcomed you to the neighborhood. At first he was unsure to talk to you all of sudden, but then it's not like he hadn’t started bumping into you on the street almost every week chatting with you and discovering how easy was to made you laugh at even the silliest things making every encounter more enchanting than the last one. I’m sure these quick encounters were pure coincidence... Unknowingly, getting Peter attracted into you even more than he thought.

But on another hot summer day, walking around the house naked, he came across something unexpected, he saw you through his open window… Well, that wasn't the surprise, you were his neighbor, it was quite common to sometimes see you by the window. The unexpected factor was... that you were looking exactly like him, perfectly naked just like mama gave you life. You was stand up distracted with some magazine in one hand and a lollipop in your mouth while listening to a song and moving your hips sensually following the beat.

And on rare occasions, this being obviously one of them, Peter stopped moving, stooding freezed there without moving a muscle with wide eyes and mouth dropped open, his face turning pink as fast as it could, stunned by the vision of that gentle girl with such an innocent smile and shy attitude when was nears him, to be honest seeing you like that baffled his brain, a thought of you being in that situation not even pass near horny Peter's mind, but certainly turned everything on him on fire.

Okay, it was her house and she lived alone, but with the window open?... Y-yeah, Peter wasn't the best person to talk about this topic now.

Everything in his mind and body was acting so fast, his heartbeat? Oh gosh if someone could hear, it would probably sound ticking so fast like a bomb ready to explode... But nothing made him move until you stopped looking at the magazine in your hands and saw him by the window too, the windows being at the same height and directed front to one another.

Your reaction was almost the same as him, freezing still while your brain tried to collect the informations of his pretty toned body that his lucky mutant genes (and too much X-Men training) blessed him. The jacked abs with pretty biceps too, the divine slutty waist highlighting his v line, the happy trail with silver pubes and-

Oh. Oh good lord... He was fucking turned on.

His dick was awaken and glued on his abdomen just by seeing you. Aforehand you could get on with your analysis, you notice his cock twitch slightly making you return to reality and your conscious remembering your situation right now. But before this could make you react, Peter got free of his trance milliseconds earlier than you, in the blink of an eye he was no longer there, his powers made him simply evaporate from there.

In the panic you just screamed and runned out of camp of vision from the window, dropping your magazine in hands and stumbling on some other ones scattered on the floor, making you fallen ridiculously on your bed, quickly getting into a fetal position and covering your face with the hands like that would help you protect yourself from the embarrassment, of course that not works and you just feels all your body be engulfed by a heavy shame and feeling your cheeks burns, you get one of your pillows and just screams and curses into into it.

After freaking out, you wanted to check out if he was still there, so still feeling the rush of adrenaline now with your legs trembling by the scare that you just got, you get out off the bed and crawled on the floor till were below the window and sitting on your own heels and pulled the curtains close. You sighed nervously, getting on your knees and hiding behind the curtains, you opened a crack into it so you could spy with one of your eyes if he was still there, and… Nothing.

His window still was open but there was no one on the room, you got away from the curtains and sit on the floor with the back against the wall looking at any point of your room, feeling a million thoughts running in your mind nonstop like “What the fuck just happened?”

While focusing on your breath, feeling your heart pounding on your chest, reasoning that despite the embarrassment that… You kinda of like it?... Liked that your cute neighbor that you find smokin’ hot attractive, but never had the courage to say anything, saw you like this and was being so affected by it, being fucking turned on, with his big brown eyes and pink flustered face looking at you so shocked but... admired? Quite hard to know, it was everything so quickly, but you hoped that it was, his dick was sending an obvious message.

Now focusing on what matters… Good god what was that perfect body?! If you could pull him, you sure that would be the luckiest woman alive.

Being weirdly satisfied you laid on the floor, covering your mouth with one of your hands and coming down from your high, starting giggling like an idiot and kicking your feets on the air so embarrassed by the situation but thinking how funny the life is and experiences are not individuals, like as walking naked in your own house because the weather was hot and run into with your hot neighbor by the window doing the same thing.

Well, let's not think for now off by the fact that he lived at the house by your side. And probably tomorrow you would have to say good morning to him.

— as it is my first "fanfic" thing that i write and post here, just tagging some mutuals to boost the post. sorry if i'm bothering! 🤎🦋

@lemoniiiiiii @fear-is-truth @jazz-berry @marchsfreakshow @silverzoomies @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @acrosstheunivcrse @tiffysdeath @wcnderlnds @evvyyypeters-fics @evanpeterswifeyyy @evanpetersbf @frankenkyle19 @taintandviolent @enchanting-evan

[artsyannierose]

Hii!! In response to your recent post: I know you asked for fic recs but what are some fics that you've enjoyed and could recommend?? Any weresonamy fics are ESPECIALLY appreciated LOL

FIC RECS ACTUALLY I’VE BEEN MEANING TO DO THIS FOR SOOOO LONGGGG

SonAmy Fic Recs!!

__

Key:

✅ - Finished

❌ - Unfinished

☁️ - Fluff

💔 - Angst

🫂 - Comfort

🫶 - my favorites

__

Oneshots ⬇️

Canon Compliant:

Canon compliant is like i can kind of see this happening even if its a bit of a stretch

Reaching Out - by overdoxicity ✅ 🫂 🫶

Have I mentioned that the Metal Virus is my all-time favorite Sonic storyline? Unsurprisingly I love a fic where Sonic comforts Amy in her distress about the whole situation.

This might as well be canon in my eyes

Amy’s Happy Place - by MakutaMatata ✅ ☁️ 🫶

Just Amy’s thoughts about being in Sonic’s arms SHES SO CUTE THEYRE SO CUTE AAAAAAA

The Cards Never Lie - by MakutaMatata ✅

Small fic riding on nostalgia where Amy decides to visit Little Planet but is interrupted by Eggman, but luckily a certain blue someone is there to fret about her

FLUFFF THEY’RE SO CUTEEE

The Test of Love: A Novelization - by BigKlingy ✅

As the title suggests, this fic is Sonic 06’s “Trial of Love” in the format of a novel, and I’m particularly fond of the way that Elise isn’t demonized, yet Sonic realizes how Amy is a perfect fit for him

Too bad he doesn’t remember any of it smh

Debí Haberme Decidido Antes - by BronySonicFan ✅

This is in Spanish, but for those who can read it, it’s Sonic inner thoughts regarding Amy whilst running around the Starfall Islands during the events of Sonic Frontiers, especially following those open world voicelines about her.

gossamer love - by shizuumi151 ✅ ☁️

Fluff fic where Sonic stays at Amy’s house to ride out a storm and with the amount of romantic tension and flirty banter they have you’d be convinced that they’re dating by now but ofc they’re not because we love torturing ourselves with “PLEASE JUST KISS ALREADY”

Unseen Passion - by FlashDriver ✅ ☁️ 🫶

A little heavy on the flirty Amy here but Amy finally gets those glasses that she honestly desperately needs, and Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles argue about which is the perfect view on Angel Island to show her first with her new glasses.

one rose-tinted morning - by shizuumi151 ✅ ☁️

Sonic surprises Amy on her birthday with quite a few sweet gifts.

more fluff (surprising that i have so much fluff on this rec list)

The Rains of Kronos Island - by MakutaMatata ✅ ☁️

Set right before the Core Four leave the Starfall Islands, Amy and Sonic finally get to share that umbrella…and a little heart-to-heart

more fluff nom nom nom

Silver the Shipper - by FlashDriver ✅ ☁️

Silver practically causes Sonic’s heart to go into insane tachycardia with the simple question “Do you love Amy Rose?”

insinuated silvaze

A Measure of Trust - by FlashDriver ✅ ☁️

Maybe a bit OOC but I love my overtly doting Amy

Knux (and by knux i mean rouge) is having a costume party and Sonic’s just going to have to trust Amy to pick out a good costume for him.

Canon Divergent:

either there’s a kiss or it’s undeniably romantic in nature, or not something i see happening in canon

Fading - by bouquets ✅ 💔🫶🫶🫶

Probably my all time favorite SonAmy oneshot, a small, angsty one where Amy gets hurt on the battlefield and Sonic’s with her.

Sonic also thinks a bit more about his feelings about Amy but imo the way he perceives her in the beginning is so, so perfect.

Love You Like You Love Me - by RebieaZ ✅ ☁️ 🫶

Again, a fic about Amy returning from her spreading-love trip, and Sonic couldn’t be more thrilled to see her.

He’s also ready to finally admit a few things to her…and maybe give some other things a try

Rememberance - by Skyelara ✅

A little bit of a romanticization of Sonic and Amy’s past experiences together across different timelines, but with some sweet nothings thrown in there to sweeten the deal hehe

also i love it when they think the other is crazy for being willing to sacrifice themself for the other but would absolutely do the same

At The Edge of a Cliff - Luescris ✅ 🫂

The guilt of letting such horrible things happen by the hand of Eggman gets to Sonic, and Amy is the one to remind him of the hero her is to her, and to everyone else.

approximate proximity - by windwhisper ✅ ☁️

Sonic and Amy aren’t dating but if you looked at them you’d probably think they’re dating CAUSE THEY TOTALLY SHOULD

idw sonamy my beloved

The Red Thread of Fate - by Jouska_the_Deer (Angst and Alliums) ✅ ☁️

Anyone who knows me knows I’m a sucker for the whole red thread of fate trope (heck i made a whole dtiys about it)

Sonic planned to ask Amy out but instead gets dragged into a wild goose chase looking for the ancient matchmaker (which kinda ends up being a date in of itself) because Amy is tired of not knowing whether or not Sonic and her will ever be a thing.

Cinematic Universe:

Sonic 4: A Fan’s Hypothetical Ending - by Anonymous567 ✅ 🫂

Bittersweet prediction of how the 4th movie might end

If you know me, you know I'm a sucker for bittersweet/angsty fics, but taking a relatively wholesome and fluffy couple (furthermore movie sonic, the most innocent incarnation) and giving them angst?

HECK YEAH GIVE IT TO ME

Alternate Universe:

Serendipity - by KokoLockhart ✅ ☁️

Cute lil fic about Sonic running across a drenched Amy in the rain after having a horrible date, and he offers her an umbrella cause what’s SonAmy without umbrellas <3

Snapshot - by FlashDriver

Amelia Rose and her dad set out to find the mythical Blue Blur which everyone else thinks is a phony but ofc Amy and her dad don’t

idk if this is a full blown AU but its certainly interesting

Multi-Chapter ⬇️

Canon Compliant:

Steal You Away - by luigi-is-stellar ✅ 🫂🫶

One of the first sonamy fics i ever read if iirc, but it’s about what Sonic and Amy do in their downtime, or offscreen lol

Set during season 3 of sonic x, how i miss x sonamy…

i LOVE their banter in this, and Sonic is just SOOOO sweet to Amy i feel like my stomach contents are going to end up on the floor from how sweet he is and also how it all fits neatly into the inbetweens of each episode is stellar

Leftovers - by stagemanager ✅ 🫂

Becoming a werehog didn’t leave Sonic without lingering effects, and Amy and Tails are the ones to find that out

here’s ur weresonamy lol sorry i don’t think i have any more :(((

Canon Divergent:

Breaking Point: A Sonic Forces Rewrite - GoldRingsAm3 ✅ 💔 🫂 🫶

This isn’t necessarily a SonAmy centric fic, but there’s a good amount of SonAmy in it. The beginning follows Sonic and his awful experience in space during Sonic Forces, then later follows his recovery when his friends finally rescue him. Real cute how Amy wakes him up 👀

Sry i really like my angst and comfort fics

The Wind and The Rose - by Skyelara ❌

Collection of SonAmy drabbles for a 100 theme challenge, but they’re all adorable

little difficult to generalize a summary since they’re all pretty different

Starfall - by super_tails ❌

A full fledged fic set just after Sonic Frontiers, where Sonic has to face a new foe looking for the chaos emeralds. tbf this just started but im interested at the moment so ill keep it here for now As of the moment that I’m writing this, the first chapter starts off with obvious romantic tension between Sonic and Amy, and a near-kiss, but idk where this is headed. Seems promising though!

Miscellaneous ⬇️

Sonic Boom:

Boom Boom Into My Heart - by gojos_favorite_girl ✅ ☁️

Who doesn’t love them some good ol’ boom sonamy

Fic in which they FINALLY get together, but not without the inevitable bickering and banter.

Alternate Universe:

What Was Stolen - by Beeextraordinary ❌ 💔 🫶

i’m sure every SonAmy fan has heard of this one by now but it doesn’t make it any less good

AU with Princess Amy training for a championship battle and she’s trained by delinquent thief Sonic with whom (whoopsie daisy) she falls in love with, and they’re trying to fight the unfair system imposed upon those like Sonic.

Her Blue Barista - by KokoLockhart ✅ ☁️ 🫶

Another one of my faves, a little meet-cute of overworked student Amy and barista Sonic, except he’s flirty asf and Amy can never help getting charmed by her blue blur in any universe <3

Enchanted - by trincie_sparkle ❌ ☁️

Both Amy and Sonic are performers, though Amy is a soloist and Sonic in a band with Tails and Knux. Sonic is selectively mute and has a difficult time talking with other people, but ends up opening up to Amy. Cute feels and romantic tension.

__

My Fics:

Feel free to check out some of the stuff I write lol

Catching Up (with an umbrella) ✅ ☁️

Start of a series I’m working on where Sonic starts to seek out Amy’s attention much more than he used to

domestic sonamy, really

Night of a Rose, Chip, and a Werehog ✅ ☁️

this is OLD. REALLY OLD. but its kinda sorta coherent and cute so ig i’ll put it here pls don’t judge 🙏🙏

It’s just if Amy was in the short “Night of the Werehog”

__

I’ll update this list regularly as I read and find more fics to add to my collection heheheehehe

I hope this is helpful!! Happy reading y’all <3

And please support all these wonderful authors who write these spectacular stories for free, they are the salt of this earth <333

[flowerandblood]

The Downfall (Oneshot)

[ Hamlet • dark Aemond x Ophelia • female ]

[ warnings: dubcon, sex content, fingering, virgnity loss, violence, suicide, angst, smut, obsession, remorse ]

[ description: When she attracts the attention of Prince Aemond during the wedding feast of his brother and his sister, she knows that something terrible is going to happen. His figure lunges towards her like black storm clouds and she feels that, along with his desire, he will bring on her downfall. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

"Tis I who should receive this honour. I, second son, rider of the greatest dragon in the world, experienced in wielding the sword, educated in history and philosophy, 'tis I who should…" He didn't finish, pressing his lips into a thin line. He stopped in the middle of the chamber, not looking at her but at the floor, his eye wide open in rage, his nostrils twitching in accelerated breath.

She swallowed hard, clenching her fingers on the material of her gown, sitting in one of the chairs at the table, fearful of him as usual when he behaved in this way, making her unsure how to act.

To endorse his words would have meant betrayal, so she had to remain silent, though her heart was pounding like mad in her chest, a drop of cold sweat running down the back of her neck.

Their betrothal had come as a surprise to her; the prince had caught sight of her at a grand wedding feast held in honour of his brother and his sister, dancing among dozens of other couples.

She dared not look at him, knowing of the arrangements between the Red Keep and Storm's End, not wanting to ridicule herself by begging like some of the women for his attention.

Apparently that was what made his bright, cold, dangerous eye notice her figure and his sight did not leave her until the end of the evening. At first she thought she was just imagining it, then, however, glancing towards the table standing in front of the Iron Throne she met his gaze, his lips curving into a grin that was disturbing to say the least.

She was terrified.

The next day, her father was asked to extend their stay in the Red Keep and enjoy the King's hospitality, though it was not explained to them for what reason.

She was frightened because she understood what it meant – she never went anywhere alone, always taking a servant with her, having heard numerous stories of what Prince Aegon did to women who caught his eye.

She didn't want to see for herself if his younger brother was the same.

It seemed to her that black clouds had gathered over her, that it was a matter of time when something would happen, and indeed, when she came across him passing through the courtyard during one of his sparring sessions, though she turned her head away, his deep, mocking voice stopped her.

"My Lady."

She swallowed hard, knowing that if she didn't answer anything, if she didn't look at him, she would commit a great discourtesy and offend him.

She couldn't afford it.

Therefore, she turned towards him, looking at the ground, seeing only his legs and waist clad in black leather garment, bowing before him.

"Your Highness."

She felt for a moment that her heart stood in her throat – the only thing she could hear around her was the clinking of steel and the voices of servants discussing something with each other behind her back. She saw the legs she was looking at move towards her and she closed her eyes.

"What a scared little bird you are. Hm?" He hummed, his voice soft and teasing at the same time, amused, as if he were speaking to a small child.

She swallowed hard and looked up at him – he towered over her with a smirk that was mysterious and unsettling, his healthy eye bright and wide open, his gaze piercing to the core, his lips swollen and full.

She felt herself grow hot with shame.

What was she supposed to answer to such a question?

The prince cocked his head, apparently ignoring her silence, taking advantage of the fact that they were standing so close to each other, watching her as if she were some curious being he had never seen before.

"I watched you dance last night. Did you feel my gaze lingering on your figure?" He asked, and she swallowed heavily, lowering her gaze, involuntarily betraying herself. The Prince grinned under his breath, seeing her reaction.

"You did." He said and looked to the side, as if he wanted to make sure no one would hear what he was about to say, leaning over her ear. "I will marry you."

She drew in the air loudly, shocked and surprised, freezing for a moment, tense, looking at him with big eyes – she shook her head, not understanding how he could say such a thing. He, however, only grinned broadly in a way that made her shudder and stepped away from her, turning to Ser Criston Cole, letting him know that they could continue.

Ser Criston gave her one terrified look that told her everything.

She was doomed.

She didn't tell her father about the prince's words because she was convinced that he was mocking her, wishing for certain that she would succumb to him and spend the night with him, only to disappear from his life forever.

She knew she couldn't let that happen if she wanted to marry any self-respecting lord and decided she would just stay inside her quarters.

And then their betrothal was announced.

There was a feeling of emptiness in her mind as she looked at him, at the wide, mischievous grin stretched across his face as he sat at the table, while his mother, the Queen, spoke to her of the King's decision, apparently persuaded by his son, wondering how she was supposed to tame such a man, tame such a fiery, unpredictable nature.

She was scared.

To her despair, her father had been invited to take on the role of one of the treasurers under the direct authority of the Small Council, which he welcomed with joy. It meant that their family was to stay in the Red Keep, and her betrothed could slowly clamp his claws around her neck.

He followed her like a wraith, sinking her further and further into his darkness, making her slowly melt into one with him, not knowing where his soul ended and hers began.

On the day he was to see his nephews again years later, she locked herself in her chamber, unwilling to watch this theatre of malice and humiliation – she knew what her betrothed thought of them, how often he mused about slitting their throats or gouging out their eyes to later gift them to his mother.

She knew he was furious, wanting to show her off like a pretty object he had in his possession, but she offered him a passive resistance that drove him to the brink of madness.

She drew in a loud breath as he surprised her by silently sneaking up to her chamber at night – she heard the loud creak of the wood beneath his body as he lay down behind her.

His one hand took place on her womb, as if he was already imagining in the back of his mind as it swelled from his seed, the other went under her jaw, stroking her skin warningly, his lips against her ear.

"You're hiding from me. You're avoiding me. You move through the keep like a shadow." He whispered, however there was no threat or frustration in his words, which she felt instead in his hand that slowly clenched around her long neck. She swallowed quietly, looking ahead at the night, starry sky outside the window.

She did not answer him.

She rarely used words in his presence.

Unfortunately, this only deepened the state she aroused in him.

A curiosity bordering on obsession.

She tilted her head back and sighed involuntarily, feeling the tickling heat spilling over her lower abdomen as his moist, full lips ran over her cheek, the tip of his tongue leaving a wet, cool trail on her hot skin.

"– I needed you –" He hissed in a trembling voice, pressing his body against hers from behind – his hard, swollen manhood hidden under the material of his breeches pushed against her buttocks, pulsing steadily. Her nipples hardened at his words, a shiver of fear and excitement ran down her spine.

His hand from her womb slid lower, between her thighs, his fingers closed on her womanhood – she knew how he learned these tricks, knew that he had played with whores before he met her, but she couldn't convince herself that she particularly cared.

The delicacy and uncertainty of the movements of his fingers did not match how she perceived him: apparently it seemed to him that one too aggressive gesture on his part and she would fall apart in his hands.

Thus, he merely teased her through the material of her nightgown, waiting as usual for her breath to grow heavy and ragged, for her buttocks to begin to roll to the flicks of his wrist and rub against his throbbing erection.

They both moaned quietly as his hand impatiently lifted the material of her long robe, seeking the warmth between her thighs and finally found it, her pulsing, swollen slit leaking from her sticky wetness.

The fingers of his hand from her neck rose higher, to her cheeks, closing on it in a rough gesture, forcing her to turn her face in his direction – she didn't resist him as his slick tongue burst deep between her lips, as his mouth pressed against hers with a loud, lewd click in a greedy, ravenous kiss that took her breath away.

She let him do whatever he wanted with her lips – he was sucking, licking and biting them, as if he were some kind of animal that had grabbed its prey and wasn't going to let her go until he devoured her.

She didn't care, because her mind seemed to be muffled, as if she was underwater, focused only on the touch of his fingers as they dug into her puffy, delicate folds, teasing again and again her warm, pulsing opening.

Her body tensed like a string, knowing what he was about to do, and then at last the tips of his fingertips broke into her hot, throbbing interior with a quiet click of her moisture.

She moaned a tad too loudly into his mouth, making him sigh deeply into her throat, freezing for a moment, his hard erection slapping impatiently against her buttocks.

"– fuck –" He gasped, startling her completely – he let her go and turned her onto her back, laying on top of her, looking at her with his mouth parted wide, breathing heavily.

She had thought that, as was his custom, he would just simply take out his manhood and make her squeeze it with her hand, touching her at the same time to give her fulfillment.

He, however, after he untied the material of his breeches, grabbed her nightgown with his hands and lifted it above her thighs, making her voice froze in her throat, her hands clasped helplessly on his shoulders.

"– n-no – no, please –" She muttered, knowing that if he took her maidenhood, took what he desired, he would never marry her, would send her and her father back to where they came from humiliated and ridiculed.

"– I need this – I need to feel you –" He breathed out, as if he was in some kind of frenzy, heedless of her helpless attempts to stop him, forcing her to spread her thighs open. She cried out, tilting her head back, closing her eyes as she felt the head of his cock begin to push against her swollen slit.

"– no – please, Aemond, please –" She whimpered, raising her trembling hands to his cheeks, stroking his jaw, trying to give him what he wanted, what he was apparently dreaming of in his black, grim mind.

"– you don't understand –" He growled, in a sharp, impatient motion trying to slide deeper into her, opening her little cunt on his throbbing, long erection. "– I fucking needed you today –"

She whined as he forced his way deeper into her body, filling her so much that she felt like he was going to tear her apart from the inside – she clenched her fingers against the material of his leather tunic, shocked at how foreign, frightening, painful and exciting this sensation was.

"– I know – I know, just a little bit more – it's almost in – shhhh –" He hushed her, stroking her head with his broad hand as he thrusted his thick root all the way in into her, one last cry of effort left her lips.

She seemed to feel him with her whole being, breathing loudly through her mouth, feeling like she was suffocating – her heart pounded like mad, her whole body quivering in his arms, his lips placing warm, moist, reassuring kisses on her cheek.

"– that's it – there we go – I'm going to start moving now –" He hummed, in a slow, lazy manner beginning to rock his hips, sliding out of her a little and sliding back in with a quiet click, trying to force her body to adapt and receive him with greater ease.

He hugged her face to the hollow of his neck, without accelerating or making sudden movements, letting her fingers tighten vulnerably on his back.

"– good girl – calm down and let me fill you with my seed –" He whispered, as if he wanted to soothe her, to reassure her that he took no pleasure in her discomfort and suffering, even though he himself was the cause of it.

She nodded, not having the strength to stand up to him, breathing loudly to relax, to endure what he wanted to do to her. A low, loud groan of pleasure erupted from his lips when he felt it, and his thrusts became a little more sure, deep, loud.

"– g-gods –" She breathed out, feeling with horror that he was teasing a spot inside her from which shivers ran through her, waves of cold terror and hot pleasure surging through her body, causing a complete void in her mind – all she could focus on was the wooden canopy of the bed above her head.

"– yes – ah – so fucking wet for me – all warm and soft –" He breathed out into her ear, licking her hot cheek with his tongue, pounding into her with sharp, deep thrusts of his hips, making her feel the tickle in her lower abdomen, in her puffy lips and in her hard nipples, the bed beneath them began to creak loudly.

She felt the familiar hot tension building within her, the tension that he aroused in her when he touched her with his fingers, that, to her despair, she began to take pleasure from this animalistic, simple act of slapping their naked, sweaty bodies against each other.

She tilted her head back and sighed as she let her hips tentatively begin to roll to his thrusts, her hands slid from his back to his bare buttocks, stroking them. He shuddered all over and groaned, blindly seeking her mouth with his own, joining her in a sticky, messy, loud kisses, licking and sucking her lips.

"– yes – yes, just like that, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckkk –" He gasped, pressing his forehead to hers, slamming into her so quickly and aggressively that he was barely sliding out of her, his thighs slapping against her buttocks again and again, opening her wide on his throbbing, fat cock.

They both were moaning shamelessly, looking at each other wide-eyed with their mouths open, listening to the shameless, sticky sounds her slick cunt made with each of his thrusts.

"– just a little more – ah – f-fuck, yes –" He groaned in elation, his final, deep, messy slaps prolonging the inevitable – she heard and understood little as a wave of pleasure shook her and something hot spilled deep inside her, their mingled wetness ran down her buttocks.

"– such a good girl –" He gasped, pulsing inside her for a moment longer, filling her with the remains of his spend.

"– Aemond –" She mumbled, feeling her little cunt clamp down on his half-hard manhood, sucking it inside her again and again.

He fell on top of her without strength, panting heavily, and they both remained silent for long time. She finally heard him swallow hard, not even daring to look at her, his face sunk into the crook of her neck.

"– will you forigve me, little bird? –" He muttered in a weak, deep, trembling voice.

At his question a single tear of sadness, regret and emptiness ran from the corner of her eye down to the side of her face, falling onto his forehead.

He felt it and lifted himself on his arm, wanting to look at her, but what he saw apparently made something inside him break.

He clamped his eyelid shut, swallowed hard and pressed his body against hers, burying his face in the pillow.

She didn't know why her hand lifted and laid on his head, stroking his hair with gentle, calm movements, why she felt a squeeze in her heart, why she wanted to comfort him.

Why she let him stay with her that night, cuddled into to her as if he were a small child.

And then the King died.

Her betrothed walked into her chamber the next day, pale, not looking into her eyes, twitching all over, as if in shock.

"My father is dead…" he began, and her mouth opened wide, looking at him in horror, "… and my grandfather demands that I marry one of Lord Baratheon's daughters."

She stared at him dully, feeling her heart stop in her chest, her stomach twisting in pain as if she was about to vomit.

"I admitted to my grandfather what I did to you. I refused to let him send you away. You will become a Septa. You will be safe and retain your dignity I wrongfully took from you." He said and flinched hard as she grinned at his words, looking at her in disbelief.

"Do you think I'm surprised? I knew you wouldn't keep your word the day I saw you."

It seemed to her that something in her words broke him, for his lower lip began to tremble without the participation of his free will, his eye turned red, his nostrils twitched in heavy, accelerated breathing.

He was unable to get anything out of himself.

On the evening of the day before she was to leave the Red Keep, she demanded that a bath be prepared for her.

She knew he would come to her, she knew his conscience would not let her go without a farewell, she knew he would want to take her one more time before he abandoned her once and for all.

When she was left alone she slipped under the water, sinking her head into it as well, and closed her eyes, feeling strangely calm as the air stopped flowing into her lungs, a shudder shook her body indicating that some part of her still wanted to live.

It was said afterwards that the prince had found her and pulled her out of the water, that he had sobbed and wailed over her bare body, that he had locked her in his embrace, not allowing anyone to come near her, kneeling with her cuddled into his chest on the cold stone floor.

It was said that after that evening he stopped to speak and leave his chamber, staring dully into the fire for hours, playing between his fingers with a lock of her hair, the only memento he had left of her.

It was said that the prince's heart had died with her.