#makes my heart clench every time and i love it (in fiction)

[toyogamii]

SHOULD TELL MY BOYFRIEND WHAT I’VE BEEN DOIN’— BEEN THINKIN’ OF YOU, EVERY TIME I SCREW HIM!

a/n: i’m just a toji girl what can i say??

warnings: cheating kinda? reader fucks her bf while thinking about toji :p I DO NOT CONDONE CHEATING THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION!! porn without plot hehe

synopsis: what’s a girl to do when her lame boyfriend can’t even make her cum? start daydreaming about that sexy ex that had her squirting with barely a flick of his wrist of course!

being all alone on a saturday night is not for the weak. sitting on the couch with your loving boyfriend but still feeling all alone is also not for the weak.

you pride yourself on your strength, the sheer will power and determination you have to not curl your lips in disdain when his fingers travel up your thigh suggestively and you can see how hard he is already. the outline of his below average cock pushing against his sweats. in the beginning of your relationship you found it flattering, almost attractive how easily he got all squirmy under your hooded gaze.

then you saw him hiding his erection under a pillow the night the two of you watched to all the boys i loved before and the hot tub scene flashed across the tv. then it didn’t feel special anymore, knowing he was just acting like a horny teenager.

not a man.

nothing like toji.

you almost let out a gasp as the older man’s face flashes across your mind, tucking your lip into your teeth. your boyfriend chuckles in your ear, thinking that your reaction was because of his soft touches. but he didn’t know the sweet spots to caress, the places that had your heart racing and thighs clenching.

your mind fills with guilt as you blink rapidly, trying to extinguish the thoughts of your ex from your mind.

“come on pretty girl,” toji’s voice pierces through your skull, the memory of his husky tone making you let out a whimper as your eyes flutter closed, “know you’ve been missin’ me.”

thick fingers pull your shorts and panties down just a little too harshly and your eyes almost snap open but toji speaks again.

“shh, just missed this pretty pussy s’all.”

you can feel his breath on your throbbing clit and your hips buck softly, he chuckles and places the gentlest kiss on your clit making you mewl.

“patience is a virtue, baby.”

you can feel him smirk against your skin, the scar on his lip brushing against you as he places kisses along the inside of your thighs.

“please,” you breathe out, your hand tangling in his soft hair and tugging. trying desperately to get his mouth where you need it most. a shriek like moan falls from your lips when toji's scared mouth wraps around your clit and gives a harsh suck.

"taste s'fucking good princess," he groans against you, big hands digging into the meat of your thighs as he prys your legs further apart. he drags his tongue along your syrupy folds, making your eyes roll back your hips buck up.

"stay still f'me," he grumbles against your soaked pussy, his hand landed harshly on your thigh, "stop squirmin' and let me eat."

his vulgar words shoot straight to your core and you throb against him. moans falling freely as you tug his hair.

you let out a strangled yelp as two of his thick fingers press against your tight entrance, gently pushing in and curling just right. your hips are twisting wildly, your legs shaking as his fingers scissoring and stretch you open.

"f-fuck," you sob, back arching practically off the couch. you can feel the way toji's tongue begins to move fast, feel the way his hips are humping the leather seat underneath you.

"please- please m' so close," you moan.

"cum for me ma."

thats all it takes for you to burst. your vision goes white as you shake violently, mouth falling open in silent scream. soft hands that feel just a touch smaller than before caress your thighs gently as you come to.

"you haven't ever cum that hard before," someone says with a soft chuckle. your eyes snap open, expecting to meet sly green ones but to no avail. looking back at you is your boyfriend, your chest is still heaving and your face is flushed. you gulp as guilt hits you.... for just a minute you really thought...

"uh yeah.." you mutter sheepishly, "guess i've just been pent up..."

your boyfriend laughs and rests his head on your leg. you almost flinch from the contact, mind still reeling with shock and guilt.

"we literally had sex yesterday, have i been neglecting you?" he teases.

yes, absolutely, toji would have had known that i've been faking it the whole time, you think bitterly. but you smile sweetly and shake your head.

"what can i say? ... i just can't get enough of you."

he smirks devishly and stands up extending his hand,

"wanna take this to the bedroom then?

you swallow hard and sigh before taking his hand with a nod and forced grin.

"... of course."

[pantherxrogers]

earned it - yunho x fem!reader (smut 18+)

pairing: soft dom!Yunho x sub!reader

warnings: porn w/o plot, smut 18+ only, spanking, dacryphilia, dom/sub dynamics, ass play, explicit language, fluffy aftercare, probably more that I missed :/

summary: yunho spanks you. that’s literally it lmao. 🤭

a/n: such beautiful, beautiful hands 🙂‍↕️

my masterlist

This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent real events or the actual personalities of any K-pop idols mentioned. All characters and situations are purely imaginary. This story is created for entertainment purposes only, and no harm or disrespect is intended toward the idols or their fans. Enjoy!

tears stream down your cheeks, blurring your vision and turning your thoughts to mush. but, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

every time you squirm, your sensitive nipples sweep against yunho’s slacks. he’s fully clothed, while you’re naked and on your knees, bent over his lap. you feel his smooth hands run over your ass, toying with you.

“fuck, look at this ass,” he grunts, roughly groping the supple skin. he lands a few quick swats, watching the way your ass recoils from the contact.

“yuyu, it hurts,” you whine, yet you push your ass further against his hand. the chuckle he lets out makes you feel pathetic. but it also causes a fresh wave of arousal between your legs.

“i know, baby. it’s supposed to hurt,” he coos, using his other hand to squish your cheeks together. he nearly groans at your expression, the lust in your eyes is tangible.

he takes in the way mascara runs down your face, ruining the pretty makeup you applied just a few hours ago. he loves the glassy look in your eyes, peering up at him like he holds the moon and stars. he can see the pleading in your expression, and it only makes his pants tighter.

craning his neck down, he guides you into a sloppy kiss, wetting your full lips. he licks into your mouth, laying claim to it. your soft mewls egg him on, promoting him to spank you even harder than before. the way you whimper against his lips is everything, and he pulls back to see his handiwork.

“you are such a slut, aren’t you?”

all you can do is stare up at him, barely registering what he’s saying to you. you nod your head, agreeing to anything that comes from his lips. the need to please him is strong, lulling you into a state of complete submission.

“hmm, my baby is so obedient. maybe i should give you a reward.” the next thing you know, his finger prod at your entrance.

he’s gathering your wetness, taking his time rubbing between your folds. you can’t hold back your moans, wiggling as much as you can to guide him towards your clit. you can feel it throbbing, begging to be touched.

“p-please yuyu, i’ve been so go- shit!” you yelp, unable to focus on anything outside of the way his fingers stretch you out. he’s starting with two, using his thumb to massage your sensitive clit.

“a little spanking got you this wet? damn, you really are a whore,” he chuckles, speeding up the movement of his fingers. despite the harsh words, he uses his other hand to gently cup your chin. he’s looking into your eyes, almost like he’s hypnotized by your gaze.

“i’m always wet for you, yuyu,” you hum, biting your lip. you don’t miss the way his eyes drop down, hyper focused on your pout.

“such a good slut.” there’s pride in his voice, making your heart flutter. you love his praise, and it’s pushing you near the edge.

you involuntarily flutter around his fingers, making it harder for yunho to continue stretching you out. he continues rubbing your clit, maneuvering his other hand to pull back the hood even further.

“oooo, fuck. ‘m too sensitive, yuyu,” you whine, simultaneously bucking your hips into his assault on your clit.

“you’re okay, baby. you’re okay,” he soothes, drawing languid circles against your nub. he can feel the way you clench on his fingers, spasming at random moments. an idea strikes him, knowing exactly what to do to push you over the edge.

gathering spit in his mouth, he lets it drip down to your asshole. using his left hand to strum your clit, he uses his right to push a finger into your asshole. it’s tight and warm, and he doesn’t miss the way you wiggle back onto it.

your moans increase in volume, overwhelmed by the stimulation of your clit and tight hole. you see white, reaching your high and letting your moans echo throughout your bedroom. yunho’s actions continue throughout your orgasm, satisfying you until the very end.

he chuckles at the way you slump further into his thighs, completely spent. easing his fingers out of you, he repositions you to cradle in his arms.

his aftercare is top tier, whispering sweet nothings as you come back down to earth. his hands are gentle as they caress your body, making sure you feel safe and secure.

you sink further into his grasp, melting into the warmth of his embrace. you feel your eyelids growing heavy, unable to think about anything aside from laying here with your lover.

“hold on, honey. just need to get you to the bathroom,” he hums, standing up to carry you bridal style.

the rest of the night passes without much fanfare. yunho gently cleans you up, helping you get ready for bed. the two of you shower together, yunho doing most of the work. he loves moments like this, fully doting on you and making you feel grounded. it makes him feel grounded, too.

after the shower, he knows it’s time for you to get some rest. as he tucks you into bed, you immediately seek out his warmth, snuggling into his side. you let out a satisfied sigh, finally settled in for the night.

“thank you for taking care of me, yuyu,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. he gently cups your chin, planting a slow peck to your lips.

“anytime, my angel. thank you for trusting me,” he replies, wrapping his arms around your frame. before long he hears your breath slow and feels your body relax.

he glances down, smiling at your state of serenity. with a swell of pride in his chest, he relaxes against the mattress. shutting his eyes, he’s ready to dream of you. little does he know, you’re dreaming of him, too.

[shooting-love-arrows]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎'𝐬! 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 reacts to...cheater! reader

Request made by Anon:

Hi! I just read your post about yan 1950 house husband, it's amazing. Can you write his reaction if reader cheated on him? If you don't feel comfortable with this ask, feel free to ignore this.  Remember to take care of yourself and have a nice day.

Hello to you too, dear Anon,

First of all, I must apologize but your request suddenly disappeared from my inbox! Thankfully, I have the content of your request saved in my google docs so I pasted it above. 

Putting that aside, although this topic is sensitive to some, I am fine with writing about that. 

I appreciate your words. It's very nice of you to think about little ol' me. I wish you a nice day too (even if it's not a daytime)!

Thank you and I hope to hear from you soon!

PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 x [CHEATER!] reader (gender not specified/mentioned/implied), your lovers genger isn't specified/mentioned/implied either. Don't be swayed by the curses used to describe them; Tw. cheating/indifelity from the reader, cursing, description of a m*urder, delusion (delulu is the solulu), emotional manipulation, gaslightning; A/N: As a person, I do not support this kind of behavior. This is only a piece of fiction, serving for entertaining purposes only.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Denial. Denial. Denial. At first 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 doesn’t believe it. No, he refuses to do so. You’re the most faithful and perfect partner known to the human kind. Right then, he's desperately holding on to that image. But unfortunately, evidence says otherwise. A simple photo, sent to him by your lover, secretly taken by some photographer is clearly showing you and (that whore) your lover, in some hotel room, in an intimate position. It is clear that day that you have an affair. 

“But what if my darling was forced to do this?”

That question sends him into a spiral of delusion, rage and sorrow. As a defence mechanism, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 made up a story where suddenly you were a victim in this whole situation. It was definitely your lover who has forced themselves on you. Probably blackmailed or worse, drugged you to have a taste of sweet love and burning passion you share while making love with him. 

“My poor darling…” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 wailed, clenching his chest like someone was physically ripping away his still beating heart from it. Fat tears ran down his rosy cheeks, smudging his mascara and turning him into a crying mess. “I’ll avenge you, my darling. I won’t forgive what was done to you!”

He doesn’t even blink when he sends your lover into the pits of hell. There’s no hesitation when 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 plans this hideous crime, making sure every detail is taken care of. And so, it begins small, like creating false and disgusting rumors about your lover. Day by day, he patiently destroys your lover's life. Until the day when 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 poisons them through his signature pie and then proceeds to repeatedly stab your lover until no one is able to recognize them in the first place. 

"YOU WENCH!" 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 roared at the person who happened to be your lover. "HOW FUCKING DARE YOU?!" With every word he dove the sharp, kitchen knife deeper and harder into his victim's chest. "DIE!!" 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 yelled for the final time and knife one last time, straight in this whore heart. He was left alone in the empty and messy kitchen, covered in blood, panting and trying to catch his breath. 

In the end, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 begins to gaslight you. Once again, with the patience of a saint, he began to manipulate you to believe that it was in fact your lover who was using you all this time. You were forced into this vile affair and you are a victim. 

“My innocent darling, you mustn't think about it (them) anymore. I will make everything perfect once again.”

But isn’t it weird how he started wearing clothes that are scarily similar to those worn by your lover? Sniff…sniff…and those perfumes…

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

[jo-com]

🎧₊ ꪆৎ ˚⋆. ➛ The other Woman

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader x Alexandra Saint Mieux

Summary: You’ve grown tired of the baseless rumors that you’re ‘the third party’— worst part is, Charles and Alex doesn’t defend you.

Genre: A little SMAU, Angst, Poly established relationship

Fc: Alexa Demie

Note: there are some grammar errors and this is not proofread also I figured i do an angsty fiction bcs i always write about fluff and just wanted to switch things up! Hope you enjoy thiis!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist. (Part 2)

─────── ─ ⋆˚࿔☕️ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆─ ───────

Your heart clenched from sorrow as you scrolled further down the comment section— a mixed of different emotions coursing through your mind stream, making your heart and head throb with the growing pain.

Every hurtful banters went straight through your heart, as if they were knives; stabbing you in the most gruesome way.

The tears that you tried to held back is now pushing their way out of your eyelids, ready for them to fall down your porcelain cheeks.

As you red more— the feeling of discomfort subdued your thoughts and was in need of comforting.

So that’s what you did. Finding comfort in something or someone.

You hurriedly exited twitter with shaky hands and went straight to your contacts, ready to find the three of your’s group chat.

Expecting them to make your heart at ease and say nothing but endless affirmations.

…

➛ Message

…

Or so you thought.

You let out a heavy sigh— the stinging sensation in your chest won’t stop and was aching even more with each words that they replied with.

The hurt in your heart caused your pent up tears to pour down your cheeks, making a stream of profound sadness evident in your complexion.

You didn’t get why they were like that to you, i mean they did care even if it were a little, but saying that you’re overreacting is just crossing the line. If it were about them, they’d be all over the place. Things really are just different when it comes to you.

As those thoughts clouded your mind— the fear of being abandoned popped up. Planting an uneasy feeling grow deep in your heart.

…

The following days, you’ve avoided them like the plague— canceling their calls and making excuses whenever they ask you to go out, dismissing them with your lame transparent reasons.

But they didn’t buy it and kept on chatting you in all of your social media accounts.

Even after flooding your messages they still wouldn’t stop, and the same goes with your feelings. The hurt will always stay and keep on following you.

Those days also got you to rethink whether or not your important and do they even have a place for you in their heart. Earning a lot of sleepless days and silent cries; all alone in your own embrace.

The only two person who’ve known about your messy state were lily and alex.

Unlike the two, they were nothing but supportive and was giving you the comfort you needed in the first place. You wished that Alex and Charles was like that;

…

But instead of mopping around all weak, you’ve decided to take Lily’s offer in going out.

Unbeknownst to your two lovers of your whereabouts— still hurt from your previous conversation.

…

Miss.yn

Liked by Lilymhe and 12,789 others

Miss.yn Out of sight, out of mind💋

Tagged; @Lilymhe

View all comments

Username1 ATE THAT DRESS UPP

Lilymhe just wow🤤🤤

Miss.yn Love yaa!!

Username2 they could never make me hate u!!

Francisca.cgomes invites when??

Miss.yn Next time, i promise

Francisca.cgomes 🙄🙄🙄

Lilymhe i wanna go again😢

Miss.yn I know u miss me already🤭

Lilymhe i always do though??

Alex_albon weirdo.

Comments have been restricted

…

After posting your pics and not even 30 minutes have passed when you’ve received countless text messages of Alex and Charles.

…

After that, your whole world seem to be falling apart.

You couldn’t even count the days where you just laid in bed and only stared at the ceiling waiting for the hours to past.

Neither Alex and Charles chatted you after. Leaving a big hole in your heart— a hole that only they can fill.

The break up was a stupid idea but it was either that or stay with a relationship that doesn’t value your feelings. They’ve hurted you, not physically but emotionally and you had every right to be angry.

You just wished that they said something to even comfort your tearing heart.

That’s all you wanted from the start. Words of affirmation and comfort from the ones you love.

Was it too much to ask?

…

Hi i am back, sorry for not posting in a while, i really had this writers block that just couldn’t leave😓😓 hope you enjoyed this angst though!!

[neouicheonsa]

[madness] jeong yunho

pairing: dom!yunho x sub!reader explicit sexual content: unprotected sex, spit play, dirty talk (slut, fuckdoll, princess), ownership kink, cum, air play? (idk how to put warnings on smut im sorry) word count:  726

a work of fiction and has nothing to do with real members of ateez, may i add

minors do not interact 

Yunho was deep inside your cunt, your walls clenching around him, pushing him in so good he was going insane. Your smell, your broken moans, the way your legs clung to his hips, the way you desperately grabbed the sheets under you. It drove him to the brink of madness. Perfect. You were perfect and designed just for him, for his liking, for his pleasure. Every inch of your body seemed to respond to his every touch, every thrust. The way your body arched and shivered beneath him, the sound of your breath hitching with each movement, it was all too much. He couldn't get enough of you, couldn't get enough of the way he made you feel.

He put his big hand around your throat and started to squeeze gently. You started losing your air, your heart pounding in your chest. "Pretty slut, taking my dick so well," Yunho whimpered, adding more pressure to your throat. You were starting to lose air, your brain going blank as you began to lose your ability to think, and pleasure becoming all too much. The only thing you could focus on was how good Yunho was stretching you, how his long, thick dick was throbbing inside you, making your toes curl and eyes tear. Yunho went relentlessly, his thrusts becoming sloppier.

"Open your mouth," Yunho's sweaty face hovered over you, hair sticking to his forehead. He looked heavenly. You obey, your half-closed eyes focusing on him, waiting, and then he drips his spit into your mouth, straight onto your exposed tongue. You can taste him, the world around you spinning as you moan his name like it's a prayer. "That's right, slut." You feel owned, completely at his mercy. His hand on your throat tightened slightly, it started to hurt yet you loved every second of it. The pain reminded you of his control, of his ownership. You gasped for breath, your vision blurred around the edges, focusing solely on Yunho's face, his eyes were focusing on you with lust, boring into yours, and by the way he was pulsing inside you, you knew he was close. "You are my good little fuckdoll," he groaned, his pace quickening. "My special cum princess, aren’t you?" you felt your own release building, coiling tight in your belly. Yunho's hand left your throat, trailing down your body. He spat on his fingers before he found your clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts, "Your pretty little pussy is mine, you're my property, I own you"

You moaned in response, tears blurring your eyes, the force with which you grabbed the sheets the only thing keeping you sane. Yunho's smirk deepened as he watched you struggle to form coherent words, "Am I fucking you so good you forgot how to talk?" he demanded, his voice dripping with arrogance.

You tried to respond, but your voice came out in broken gasps, "Ye-yes... fu-fuck... I belong to you, I'm yo-yours..." The words tumbled out of your mouth in spasms, your body trembling beneath him.

Yunho's eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race even faster. He seemed to take immense pleasure in your helplessness, in the way you were completely at his mercy. "That's right," he growled, his thrusts becoming even more forceful. "You belong to me. Only me."

With one last, powerful thrust, Yunho came inside you, your velvety walls overflowing with his warm cum. The sensation of feeling him cum deep inside you pushed you to the edge too. Your body spasmed uncontrollably, pussy clenching around his milked dick, waves of pleasure coursing through you as you wrapped your arms around Yunho. Your nails dug deep into his skin, leaving marks as you held on tightly, the intensity of your orgasm making you shudder. You clung to him tightly, as you moaned his name repeatedly. Yunho's breath was hot against your ear "My slut cummed so prettily on my cock, you did so well for me," he whispered patting your hair gently. You only nodded your head, tiredness creeping in as you hid your face in the crook of his neck, his smell intoxicating. He stayed inside you for a moment, both of you catching your breath. Slowly, he pulled out, and you felt the emptiness immediately, a soft whimper escaping your lips at the feeling.

[novaursa]

Chains of Flame

- Summary: Aegon conquers the North, breaks your betrothal to Torrhen, and takes you as his third wife.

- Paring: sister!reader/Aegon I Targaryen (one-sided)

- Note: These events happen right before The Broken Crown. @oxymakestheworldgoround I hope you like it. 🙂

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @fiction-fanfic-reader @fireandblood-mharmie @poisonedsultana

The Northmen stand silent, their breath hanging in the cold air as Aegon Targaryen, now styled the Conqueror, steps forward. You watch from a raised platform, your heart hammering as you take in the sight below. Torrhen Stark, King in the North, stands proud and unyielding before the might of the dragonlord. His eyes flicker briefly to you, a look filled with sorrow and a hint of betrayal.

Aegon's voice booms over the gathered men, a stark contrast to the cold stillness of the North. "I accept your submission, Torrhen Stark. You are no longer King in the North, but Warden, sworn to me and mine."

Torrhen nods stiffly, his face a mask of stoic calm. He removes the crown himself, placing it at Aegon's feet. It is a small thing in that moment, the act of surrender, but it feels like a shifting of the world. You feel the weight of it like a stone in your chest.

Aegon gestures, and you see the great crown of the North picked up by Orys Baratheon’s hand. The sight of it, soon to be discarded, makes something in you clench.

But then Aegon speaks again, and you know this is not over. “There is another matter, Torrhen Stark, that we must settle.” His voice is iron, unyielding. “The betrothal arranged by your father—between my sister and you—is no more.”

A murmur spreads through the assembled lords and bannermen. Your breath catches in your throat, though you had known this moment was coming. The promise made to you, to the North, is shattered in an instant, and the sting of betrayal mingles with relief and fear.

Torrhen’s face pales, his jaw tightening. For the first time, his composure wavers. He glances at you again, and you see the raw pain in his eyes. He does not speak, but you can feel the weight of his silent agony. His mouth opens, then closes, as if words would betray the storm raging within him.

Aegon turns to the gathered Northmen, his presence commanding, his tone brooking no dissent. “I will take Y/N as my third wife, joining her to me as a true queen of Westeros. This is the will of the Conqueror. No man will challenge it.”

The crowd erupts, voices rising in surprise and dismay. The North had seen you as their own, a bridge between the frozen lands and the fiery South. And now, you are being taken from them, claimed by the dragon.

You feel Torrhen’s gaze on you, and you force yourself to meet it. His pain is a spear to your heart, for you had cared for him, in your way. He was to be your husband, your future, a man who respected and honored you. But it was not love, not in the way Aegon’s presence invades your thoughts, dominates your heart despite your resentment.

“I will come to Winterfell,” Aegon continues, his voice softer now, though no less commanding. “To claim her, as is my right. But I will grant you, Torrhen Stark, time to bid her farewell.” His eyes flick to you, and for a moment, the steel in his gaze softens. “I understand my sister holds you in high regard.”

You want to lash out, to rage at the unfairness of it all. He took your future and made it his own. Aegon’s jealousy, his possessiveness, had bound you to him in chains of blood and fire, and now he stands here, triumphant, while the North mourns the loss of its promised queen.

Torrhen bows his head, the weight of his defeat pressing down on his shoulders. “I thank you for your mercy, my lord,” he says, the words clipped and tight. He does not look at you again, and the distance between you feels like an insurmountable chasm.

The ceremony ends, and Aegon turns to you, his hand reaching out. The crowd parts as you descend, every step heavy, the eyes of the North upon you. When you take Aegon’s hand, his grip is firm, possessive, and something in you breaks.

“I will not forget this, brother,” you whisper harshly as he leads you away, your voice low so only he can hear. “You have taken everything from me.”

He stops, his eyes searching yours, and for a moment, you think you see regret. But then it is gone, replaced by the unwavering determination that has always defined him. “I would take the world for you,” he murmurs, his voice fierce. “And I will make you my queen, as I've promised you.”

You look back once, meeting Torrhen’s eyes across the sea of people. His face is unreadable, a mask of Northern stoicism, but the pain is there, deep and unyielding. You look away, because to hold his gaze any longer would be to shatter entirely.

As you leave, Aegon’s hand never leaving yours, you feel the chains tighten. You are his, now and forever, bound by fire and blood. And the North, once a promise of freedom and peace, is left behind, as cold and distant as a fading dream.

The shores of Dragonstone are shrouded in mist, the air filled with the scent of salt and smoke. The winds whip at the edges of your gown as you stand on the blackened sands, gazing out at the restless waves. The preparations for your wedding are underway, but you feel none of the joy such an occasion should bring. The weight of your destiny, twisted and reshaped by your brother's ambition, presses down on your shoulders like a leaden cloak.

Behind you, the great castle of Dragonstone looms, its towers sharp and jagged like dragon’s teeth. Within its ancient halls, the fires have been stoked, and the feast is being prepared. But all you feel is cold, an icy knot of anger and betrayal festering in your chest.

The sound of footsteps crunching on the sand draws your attention. You turn to see Aegon approaching, his silver hair gleaming in the faint light. He is resplendent in his Valyrian armor, the black and red of House Targaryen vivid against the stark landscape. His expression is set, determined, but you can see the flicker of something deeper in his eyes—something that looks almost like hesitation.

“You are avoiding the ceremony,” he says, his voice low, though there is a hint of frustration beneath the calm. “Our guests are waiting. Visenya and Rhaenys, our bannermen, they are all gathered for us.”

Your lip curls in a bitter smile. “For us? Or for you, brother? This is what you wanted, not I.”

Aegon’s jaw tightens, his gaze narrowing. “This is what you have always desired, to be queen. You spoke of it often as a child, remember? That you would rule by my side, united in fire and blood.”

“That was a game,” you snap, the words sharp and hot as dragonfire. “We were children, Aegon! Do you truly believe the dreams of a girl mean I must forfeit my future?”

He steps closer, the heat of him almost tangible, and for a moment, you can see the hurt flickering beneath his anger. “It was not a game to me,” he says, his voice firm. “When you spoke of ruling together, I saw it as a vow. I saw it as a promise that you would be with me, that we would shape the world together.”

You scoff, turning away, your eyes searching the endless horizon as if it could offer some escape. “A promise you forced me into. You shattered my betrothal, Aegon. You took everything I might have had—the North, my own choices—because you couldn’t bear to let me go.”

Aegon’s hand catches your arm, gently but insistently, turning you to face him. His eyes are fierce, blazing with that intensity that has always defined him. “I took what was mine,” he says, and there is a ring of possessiveness in his tone that makes your heart clench. “You were never meant for him, for anyone but me.”

“And what if I say I do not want this?” you demand, pulling your arm free. “What if I do not wish to be your queen, to be bound to you like some trophy to show your might?”

His gaze softens, and for a moment, he looks almost vulnerable. “You may hate me now, sister,” he murmurs, his voice low and strained. “But I know you. I know the fire in you, the hunger for more. It was not a game, not truly. I have seen the way you look at the world, the way you yearn for something greater. I have conquered Westeros, yes, but I did it for us, for the promise we made.”

“A promise I was too young to understand!” you retort, frustration boiling over. “You saw what you wanted and took it. You never asked what I wanted, Aegon. You never thought that I might have wished for something different.”

He shakes his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “I have always known what you wanted, even when you did not. You would have been wasted in the North, trapped in Winterfell with a husband who could never truly know the depths of your fire.”

Your hands clench at your sides, anger and confusion warring within you. “And now I am trapped here, with you. Trapped in a cage of gold and dragonfire.”

Aegon’s eyes darken, and he steps closer, his presence overwhelming, the heat of him almost suffocating. “Not trapped, beloved,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “You are not trapped. You are my queen, my equal. This is what I offer you—the world, to rule by my side. Everything we dreamed of, everything we spoke of, it is ours now.”

Your breath catches, and for a moment, you are caught between the pull of his words and the bitterness in your heart. You had dreamed of this, once, when you were too young to understand the price. But the reality is a bitter draught, and the man before you, the brother who has taken so much, feels more like a stranger than ever.

“I wanted freedom,” you whisper, the words breaking from you like a confession. “I wanted a life of my own choosing, not one bound by your will.”

Aegon’s face softens, and he reaches out, his hand hovering near your cheek, hesitant, as if he fears you will pull away. “And I wanted you, more than the crown, more than any throne. I have always wanted you.”

His words hang between you, heavy and fraught, and for a moment, the world narrows to the space between your breaths. You feel the weight of his longing, the possessive need that has driven him to bind you to him, and it terrifies you, even as some small, traitorous part of you is drawn to it.

But you do not yield. You cannot. “You have me now, brother,” you say softly, a bitter edge to your voice. “But do not think it is by choice.”

He flinches, the hurt plain on his face, but he does not look away. “I will make you see, in time,” he says, his voice almost a vow. “I will make you see that this is where you belong.”

And with that, he turns away, striding back toward the castle, leaving you alone on the shore. The wind howls around you, the waves crashing against the rocks, and you stand there, feeling the world shifting around you like sand beneath your feet.

Today you will be wed, bound in the ancient rites of your people, the words of Valyria sealing your fate. And though you feel the fire of your anger burning bright, you know that you are caught, trapped in a web of fate and desire, with no clear way to break free.

The dragon has claimed you, and whether you will burn or rise remains to be seen.

The halls of Dragonstone are alive with the glow of a hundred torches. The air is heavy with the scent of incense and dragonfire, a mix of smoke and the salt of the sea beyond. 

You stand in the center of the great hall, clad in the traditional robes of Valyria. The fabric is exquisite, a deep crimson embroidered with threads of gold and black that catch the light as you move. It clings to your form like liquid fire, and the weight of it feels both regal and suffocating. Your hair, usually left to flow freely, has been intricately braided and adorned with tiny dragon-shaped clasps of silver and rubies, each one a symbol of your house, your heritage, and the heavy legacy you now bear.

The hall is filled with guests, lords and ladies from the corners of Westeros, all here to witness this union, this cementing of power. The faces of those you know—Rhaenys, with her quiet strength, and Visenya, stern and watchful—are a comfort, but only barely. They stand on either side of you, dressed in their own gowns of silver and midnight blue, their presence a stark reminder of what you are about to become. Beyond them, the lords of the realm watch with a mixture of awe and apprehension, their whispers a dull hum in the background of your thoughts.

At the far end of the hall, Aegon waits. He is a vision in black and red, his armor gleaming under the firelight, the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen emblazoned proudly on his chest. His silver-gold hair falls loosely to his shoulders, and his eyes—those eyes that have seen the world bend and break under his will—are fixed on you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

The words of the High Valyrian rites begin, spoken by a priestess who stands between you and Aegon, her voice echoing in the vast chamber. The ancient tongue flows like music, each syllable carrying the weight of history, of old gods and lost empires. The ceremony is one few in Westeros truly understand, its meaning lost to all but those of your blood.

You are asked to recite the vows, and though your voice is steady, you can feel your heart racing, a frantic, caged thing within your chest. You speak the words, pledging your loyalty, your soul, your very being to the man before you. Each phrase is a chain, each promise a shackle that binds you ever closer to him.

Tears sting at your eyes, but you blink them away, your vision blurring for a moment. You will not weep, not here, not before all these people. But the weight of what is happening crashes over you in waves, each one more suffocating than the last. You feel Rhaenys’s gaze on you, warm and understanding, but even she cannot help you now. This is your fate, your destiny, carved by your own brother.

Aegon steps forward, his gaze never leaving yours. His face is inscrutable, the mask of the conqueror, but there is something beneath it, something raw and almost hesitant. He takes your hands in his, his grip firm but not harsh, his skin warm against your cold fingers.

The priestess continues, her voice rising and falling like the tide, calling upon the old gods of Valyria to witness this union, to bless it with the strength of the dragon, the fury of fire. You repeat the vows again, your voice faltering only once, when the tears finally spill over, silent and unbidden.

Aegon’s eyes flicker, a brief, almost imperceptible softening as he watches the tears trail down your cheeks. For a heartbeat, he hesitates, his gaze searching yours, and you see it—a flash of uncertainty, of something almost like regret. But it is gone as quickly as it appeared, his grip on your hands tightening as if to anchor you both.

The priestess holds up a ceremonial blade, its edge gleaming wickedly in the firelight. You know what comes next. Aegon takes the blade first, drawing it carefully across his palm. Blood wells up, crimson and stark against his pale skin. He holds his hand out to you, his eyes locked with yours, unyielding and yet—there is a plea there, a silent question.

You take the blade, your hand trembling slightly. The metal is cold and sharp, and when you draw it across your palm, the pain is swift, a sharp sting that blooms into a dull throb. You press your bleeding hand to his, the warmth of his blood mingling with yours, a bond sealed in the oldest way.

“Fire and blood, my love,” he murmurs, his voice low, meant only for you. 

The words are a promise, a claim, and you feel their weight settle over you like a mantle. The tears fall faster now, but you do not look away, even as your vision blurs. You hold his gaze, refusing to flinch, to break, even as your heart shatters within you.

And then it is time for the final vow, the kiss that will seal your fates. Aegon hesitates, just for a heartbeat, his eyes searching yours as if seeking permission, understanding. The hesitation is gone as quickly as it appeared, and he leans in, his lips brushing yours with a gentleness that surprises you.

The kiss is soft, almost chaste, but there is a fire beneath it, a heat that speaks of all the things left unspoken between you. It lasts only a moment, a fleeting touch, and then he pulls back, his eyes dark and unreadable.

The hall erupts in cheers, the sound crashing over you like a tidal wave. You feel the weight of the moment, the finality of it, and it is all you can do to stand, to keep the tears from becoming sobs. You are his now, bound in the ancient rites, the queen to his king, the flame to his fire.

Aegon raises your joined hands, his gaze still locked on yours. There is triumph in his eyes, but there is something else, too—something softer, more fragile, hidden beneath the conqueror’s mask.

The feast that follows is a blur of sound and color, of toasts and laughter that seem hollow in your ears. Aegon’s hand remains on yours throughout, his presence a constant, inescapable force beside you. You smile when expected, nod when spoken to, but inside, you are adrift, lost in the sea of your own thoughts, your own grief.

As the night wears on, the guests begin to fade away, the torches burning low. Aegon turns to you, his expression still unreadable, his hand warm on your arm.

“Are you well?” he asks, his voice quiet, meant only for you.

You look up at him, and for the first time since the ceremony began, you allow yourself to speak the truth. “No,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “No, I am not.”

For a moment, just a moment, you see something in his eyes—a shadow of the boy he once was, the brother you knew before all this. But then it is gone, and he nods, his expression hardening once more.

“I will make it right,” he says, and you can hear the determination in his voice, the fierce resolve that has driven him to conquer, to claim. “I will make you see.”

But you turn away, pulling your hand from his grasp, your heart heavy with the weight of all that has been lost, all that will never be. You do not look back as you leave the hall, the cheers and laughter fading behind you, your tears falling silently in the darkness.

Tonight, you are queen. But you are also alone, your heart a battlefield, your soul caught between fire and blood, love and resentment. And the man you once called brother, the boy who once made you laugh, is now the king who has taken everything.

[theharddeck]

i was supposed to sweat you out (rooster x f!reader)

pairing: bradley rooster bradshaw x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: reader is totally not jealous that her FWB is being hit on at the hard deck.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: spitting, unprotected sex, non negotiated breeding kink—friendly reminder this is a work of FICTION oh my god use protection and communicate explicitly with your partner beforehand please please please-- explicit PiV sex, a bit of dumbification, m!receiving oral sex

A/N: help i blacked out and wrote almost 4k of rooster smut who even am i listen, i also know it's not original, but i wanted to write frantic territorial sex and this is where it got us. also...don't think too hard about the parallels between this and can't unfeel that okay i'm too repressed to process tysm also yes title is from glitch by TAS

You weren’t jealous. 

Jealous was for people with feelings, and if you had feelings about fucking your team lead, then you were stupid, in addition to giving Uncle Sam everything he needed to court martial you. 

So, no, you weren’t jealous. 

But the tightness in your stomach as a girl sat next to Rooster on the piano was awfully uncomfortable. 

She wasn’t even out of line, that was the worst part. She looked nice, she looked like a decent human, and she was pretty, if you were into the girl next door kinda look. 

Which Rooster historically was. 

She was sitting at a perfectly respectful distance, her sundress was a perfectly respectful length, her face was open and curious and pure and it made you want to stomp over to the piano in the middle of the Hard Deck, and rub yourself all over Bradley’s hawaiian shirt until he remembered that as pretty as she was, he liked himself around you better.

You made yourself look away, tipping your wrist so the soda water and ice remaining in your glass rattled around.

He wasn’t yours. 

You knew he wasn’t, just like you knew jealousy was irrational, but it was hard because sometimes…sometimes he acted like it though. 

Like when you nearly passed out from cramps and he’d brought over a spare set of sheets while he washed yours, and then wedged himself around you in your tiny bed, so you could know you weren’t alone in the pain. Or when he left a lemon lavender cupcake in your locker, even though no one was supposed to know it was your birthday, because you hated the way people made a big fuss out of nothing. Or the way he looked up at you, awestruck and beautiful, every time you came on his fingers, sobbing his name. 

You set your glass down on the bar, louder than you intended, but suddenly everything seemed loud. You didn’t have to stay here, in fact, you needed to get out. Out of the Hard Deck, away from the bright lights and happy people being happy, and no one moping over their fuckbuddies who definitely didn’t have feelings for them–

When the back door opened, you breathed in deep, cool air rushing off the sea and over you and bringing a momentary reprieve. The door swung shut behind, and as it closed, the din of the bar muted, and you let that breath out slowly, wrapping your arms around yourself. You just needed a minute, a moment to calm the hell down, and forget about the distracting man at the piano whom you had no business being distracted by.

You heard the door creak open behind you and you tipped your head back to glare at the universe at large, because without turning around, you knew exactly who had come outside after you. 

“Hey,” Bradley’s voice was just gentle enough to make your heart clench, because it wasn’t his fault that he was so impossibly kind, it had you falling in love with him, “you okay? You ran out of there pretty quick.”

“I’m fine,” you said, sounding just as prickly as you felt, pushing down any sense of flattery that he’d been aware of your presence, and your leaving. 

“You sound fine,” Bradley said cheerily, coming to stand beside you. You wanted to laugh with him because you both knew you were being dramatic, but you also wanted to shove him like you were 5 on a playground, too full of big feelings to know how to handle them. 

“I said I’m fine, Bradley,” you bit out. “Go back inside, okay, I’m fine.”

He was quiet for a moment, and when you looked over at him, you knew it was a mistake. He was watching you carefully, his brown eyes focused and concerned, a divet in the middle of his forehead where his brows were squished together, making him simultaneously the cutest and hottest, and also the most annoying, for being so handsome while he was clearly worried. 

“Honey, we gotta talk about it–” he started, but the endearment broke something inside of you, the way he said it like he meant it, like this was real. 

“I’m not your honey, Bradley,” you snapped, turning to face him fully. “We’re friends, right, that was the whole deal, so let’s not pretend like–”

Something flashed in Bradley’s eyes and a moment later his large hands cupped your face as he crashed into you, kissing your gasped breath out of you. 

It wasn’t your fault your knees nearly buckled. 

It wasn’t your fault that the hands you meant to push him away with instead curled into the material of that stupid technicolor shirt, pulling him closer to you. 

It wasn’t your fault that he tasted like heaven, like rum and coke and intoxicating, and months of habit had you chasing his taste with your tongue. 

You didn’t realize you were walking backwards until your back hit the outside wall of the Hard Deck, and still Bradley covered you. His neck was bent at a horrible angle to meet your lips, but he didn’t seem to mind, melding his body into yours, pressing into you with a familiar urgency. 

His tongue traced over your lips and you opened for him, a whimper escaping you when Bradley hummed with appreciation. His hands slipped from your face to behind your head, his knuckles protecting your head from the scrape of the brick wall, and he rocked into you before pulling back. 

You felt his breath against your lips and you opened your eyes slowly, needing a moment before you could focus on him. 

Christ, he was just so pretty. 

Hair unruly from your fingers, cheeks flushed from kissing you, chest rising unsteadily and his tongue darting out to wet his lips, like a tease. 

“Now,” he said, his voice gruffer than it’d been a minute ago, “are you done riding my dick for something I don’t even know I did wrong?”

It was an expression.

You knew that, of course it was an expression, but Bradley was pressing you into a wall with his demigod body, and he’d said it in that voice, the one you knew how it felt against your skin, so all you could manage was, “Can I?”

For a moment, Bradley looked confused, bless him. 

Then he huffed out a disbelieving breath, like you were too good to be true, lifting a hand from behind your head to rake it through his hair, before looking back at you. 

“You mean that, don’t you?” he asked, his voice somehow even lower. “Out here in the open, you’d let me fuck you?”

You shivered at his words, nodding stupidly, and were rewarded by another kiss. This one was just as unexpected as the first, but Bradley’s lips gentle against yours as he coaxed an answering softness out of you. 

It was too sweet.

Too tempting, too delicious, to let yourself have tenderness that you knew wasn’t real, and you needed to get a hold of yourself, fast. 

Bradley was still being so damn gentle, so it was easy to push his hands away from you, sink to your knees on the sand-covered asphalt outside of the bar. Bradley fell forward, catching himself on the arm braced on the wall, his forehead resting in the crook of his elbow. 

“Honey, you don’t have to–” he started, but his hips bucked forward when your fingers started undoing his belt. 

“I want to,” you told him, meaning it too much to care how breathless your voice sounded. 

Your hand slipped into his pants, palming his length over his briefs and you both groaned softly. He wasn’t fully hard, not yet, but that was better anyways, let you work him up. He was warm, heavy even at half mast, and it took everything in you not to purr when you pulled him out. You looked up at him, tilting your head. 

“Help me out?” you asked coyly, sticking your tongue out, and Bradley’s hips jutted forward again when he realized what you were asking. 

“You’re something else,” he murmured, his voice a heady mix of arousal and wonder. The hand that wasn’t keeping him from hitting the wall traced down your cheek, ending at your jaw and tipping your chin up. 

You were already salivating and when Bradley spit, you moaned, your thighs clenched together as you drooled your combined saliva onto his cock. Bradley grunted, then whispered something to himself as you smoothed your hand over him, the glide made easier by your spit. Already, you could feel him stiffening, and you readjusted to take him in your mouth. 

It was never a gentle fit. 

Bradley was the kind of thick that he always stretched out your jaw, but, God, did you relish it. As your lips wrapped around the head of his dick, Bradley moaned, the most beautiful sound. You loved how vocal he was, loved how he sounded, how he felt. You tightened your lips, tongue swirling over the tip of him, teasing until you tasted a hint of salt in your mouth, and then it was your turn to moan.  

You tipped your head back, encouraging him to slide him deeper into your mouth, your fist twisting around the portion of his cock that didn’t fit in your mouth. 

“Shit, honey, that mouth…” Bradley gritted, his voice muffled in his arm. The hand that had tipped up your chin went around to your cheek, and his hips shifted again when he could feel you hollowing your cheeks out. 

The motion pushed him deeper towards your throat and you gagged, but kept him in your mouth, soothed by the shaky cadence of Bradley’s breath over you. 

“So damn good for me, aren’t you, honey?” he breathed. “So warm and tight; feels so good…”

Your thighs clenched again, and you felt yourself growing wet as his praise washed over you. You held your breath, determined to take more of him, and Bradley grunted as you pulled on his cock with your hand, feeding him into your mouth. 

“Need more, honey?” he asked, somehow still cocky, though you could hear the tremor of desire in his voice. “God, you love being stretched on my dick, don’t you?”

You moaned instead of nodding, wishing it wasn’t true but also wishing he’d push deeper. Your hands flexed on his thighs, still covered in his jeans, but so thick and warm, even through the denim. Fuck, the size of him was overwhelming–his heavy cock in your mouth, those muscled thighs under your fingers…you held your breath and you let go of the base of him. 

Bradley let out a choked gasp as you took him deeper, your nose brushing his pubic hair as he slid down your throat. You were gonna lose your voice and be so damn sore, but it was worth it for the groan that ripped out of Bradley. 

“Fuck fuck fuck–” he gritted, all cockiness gone as he let go of your cheek, bracing himself against the wall. You knew it was taking everything to not rut into you, and you half appreciated it because you weren’t sure you could take it, but you almost wanted him without restraint, just using you, lost in you. 

You hummed around him, and Bradley made a sound you’d never heard before, like a whine and gasp, and then he was pushing himself off the wall, pulling out of you, and wrapping his hands under your arms, pulling you to your feet. 

“Fuck, honey, you wreck me,” he rasped, kissing you almost angrily. You whimpered as you opened for him, and you felt his tongue sweeping through you, searching for his taste in your mouth. 

You felt so empty, too much air and too little of his cock, and you reached for him between you. You felt him jolt when your hand closed around him, stroking over him, and then Bradley was reaching between both of you, shoving his hand into your underwear. 

“How wet am I going to find you, honey? Bet you’re just drenched aren’t you, just that hungry for my cock–fuck.”

Bradley broke off when his fingers swept into your panties, and you gasped at the glorious contact. 

His fingers were so good, thick and long and calloused just right, and he was absolutely correct: you were all but dripping for him. Bradley pulled his fingers through your folds, pulling your arousal up to your clit and petting gentle circles around it. Your head fell back against the wall at his ministrations, perfect to the point of painful, almost forgetting you held his cock in your hand. 

You tightened your grip around him, and Bradley grunted before he matched your pace with his fingers. You felt your knees shaking, and Bradley wound another hand around your ass, before lifting to brace you against the wall. With your feet off the ground, your balance was entirely dependent upon him, and it brought new pressure to the pattern his fingers were tracing over you. 

His touch was maddening. 

Light and knowing, direct and perfect, enough to drive you wild with pleasure but not to get you there, and he knew it. 

“Bradley,” you whispered against his mouth, begged, and the bastard chuckled, but he pulled his hand out of your panties, just long enough to push them to the side, before pulling his lips away from you. 

“Shit, honey, I don’t have a–”

“In me, Rooster,” you snapped, surprised and yet absolutely not surprised by the fact that your eyes felt full. You were desperate for him, it was embarrassing, but you needed him so damn bad, for reasons you didn’t dare say, and if he waited for something else, you didn’t think you could bear it. “Please, fucking please, I need you–” 

“Shh honey, you’re okay,” Bradley soothed, one of his hands brushing your hair away from your face, a gentle thumb wiping at your eyes. His gentleness made you more desperate, your hips canting towards him. “Are you sure?”

“So sure, please,” you whimpered, your face feeling hot, your thighs shaking. God you were coming undone, like you were just a giant nerve ending that was just need, desperate, hunger, desire. 

“Course, honey,” Bradley soothed, his lips brushing against your cheeks, kissing your tears away, his tongue caressing your skin. “I’ve got you, baby, you’re okay.” 

You didn’t think you were, but then his thick cock was at your entrance and you could’ve sobbed in relief. He was hot, you could feel him leaking and you needed him to be so deep inside you. You tried to work your hips down on him, but Bradley’s grip on you was stern, and you couldn’t coax him any faster.

As it was, it still felt like too much. 

The stretch of him, the closeness, the way he knew just how to soothe you and fuck you and none of it was real and even when he slowly worked you down onto his cock, you were still shaking. 

“Please, please,” you whined, trying to move, and crying out in frustration when Bradley didn’t succumb. “Shit, Bradley, please, fuck me like you mean it.”

He growled, fucking growled, the sexiest sound out of a litany of choices, and Bradley’s hips jerked back before he drove into you. Your head hit the brick wall, he was so perfect and he hit you just right, so good, and almost perfect enough to drown out the thoughts in your head. 

“Like I mean it, huh,” Bradley grunted, pulling out, the drag feeling like suction with how wet you were, how tightly you were clenching around him. “Like I mean it when I say you’re killing me, is that what you mean? Like I’m going insane every second this pretty pussy isn’t tight around me, like I can’t think straight if I don’t have the taste of you on my tongue, or know the taste of me isn’t on yours?”

He punctuated each question with a thrust, fucking the answers out of your head, and all you could think was yes and more and please. 

“Oh you like that, don’t you, baby?” Bradley said, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he lifted you higher up the wall. Your back scraped against the bricks but you didn’t care, you couldn’t focus on anything other than the perfect drag of his cock inside you, so close to you. “I think you like that, I think you like knowing how much you own me, how in my head you are, how even when it’s me filling you. You’re fucking everywhere, all around me, all the time.”

His thrusts pushed you higher, bits of sand and brick grating at your skin and it grounded you, centered you so you didn’t come undone at the words coming out of him. 

You were still thinking too much. 

He was so deep, so good, but you still…you reached for him blindly, one of your hands finding one of his, bringing it to your throat. 

“Fuck, honey,” Bradley groaned, his fingers tightening slightly and you traced your hand down the back of his hands, moaning when you felt the veins on the back of his hand. He didn’t squeeze tight, just enough to remind you he was there, and that he could, and just the thought had a coil tightening in your core, tingles spreading through your toes and fingers. 

“Bradley,” you whimpered, tears squeezing out of your eyes. “Baby, that feels so good, feels like yours, please–”

Bradley moaned into your skin, his lips latching onto your pulse point and sucking, and you keened, your back arching off the wall. The stretch of his cock was pulling your panties across your clit, and the driving press of him inside of you was so good, you could barely hear what he was whispering. 

“Is that what you want, honey?” he whispered into your skin. “Want to be mine? That’s what it feels like, honey, it feels like my pussy is so wet for me, dripping for this cock. It feels like my clit is so swollen, so desperate for attention; it feels like my girl’s gonna come on my hard fucking cock…”

Yes, yes that was what you wanted. 

You were already his, he didn’t know it, but hearing him say it had your mind going hazy, and your thighs trembling. 

“That’s fucking right, baby,” Bradley groaned, “I can feel you clenching down on me, can feel my pussy getting even tighter for me. This doesn’t feel like friends, baby, it feels like my girl’s about to come on my cock. 

You were lost, swimming in a sea of heat and sensation and Bradley’s words and you were pretty sure you were wailing, praying no one in the Hard Deck could hear you, but even if they could, you weren’t stopping. His cock was so deep in you, hitting you just right, and you knew what you needed to cum. 

“In me, Bradley,” you managed, your voice a weak whine. “Need to feel you come, please, fill me up with it.”

“Oh, fuck, honey,” Bradley choked, his hand tightening on your throat and his hips working faster. His pace was bruising, overwhelming, perfect and hard and you felt everything in you winding tighter.

“Of course you want my cum, fucking of course, if it’s my pussy, then that’s where it belongs isn’t it? That’s how you should be, stuffed so fucking full of me, dripping out of you, marked like mine, fucking mine–”

He was groaning, gasping, his hips speeding up and driving into you, and all you could do was take it, like it was what you were made for. You were boneless, euphoric, and when you felt Bradley’s hips stutter and his head drop to between your breasts, your orgasm broke over you. Bradley sagged into you, hips working weakly as he thrust his cum into you, and you felt it everywhere, marking you, like he said. You couldn’t breathe without him, only knew you were still vertical because he was holding you, and you felt so warm, so held, so full. 

His. 

You didn’t realize your eyes had closed until you were aware of Bradley asking you to open them. Your feet were on the ground, even though your legs were like a newborn deer, and your back was braced against the wall. Bradley was bent in front of you, brushing away your tears with the back of his hand. 

“Talk to me, honey,” he said softly, and you heard his voice like an echo, “need to know you’re okay.”

You nodded slowly, which mustn’t have been convincing, because Bradley was still fussing over you, like he hadn’t fucked you halfway into a new religion.  

You knew when he saw your back because of the sound of dismay that burst out of him, and then he was pulling off that damn Hawaiin shirt, brushing gravel off your back while your head hung low between your shoulders, still trying to remember how to breathe. 

Satisfied that he’d at least brushed the grit out of your skin, Bradley draped his shirt over your shoulders, protecting them, before guiding you to lean back. He licked his lips as his gaze tracked over your face, and you watched him convince himself to say something. 

“Did you mean it?” he asked quietly, but this time you heard him more clearly. “Would…would you want that? To be mine?”

It was your turn to stare. 

How could he doubt it? How was there any question? Not only after what you’d just begged him for, but before then, always, he had to know how good he was, and how all anyone wanted was to be in the light of his sunshine. 

“Obviously,” you said, your voice coming out as an alarming croak. “But we can’t, we–”

Bradley hugged you. 

It wasn’t what you expected.

After everything you’d just done, instigated by stop-talking kisses, there was something astonishingly intimate about Bradley wrapping you in his arms, enfolding you in his embrace, and you felt him relax when your arms hesitatingly wrapped around him too. He was warm, smelled like fresh sweat and you buried your face in the soft cotton of his undershirt. He held you tightly, and you thought he might’ve pressed a kiss to the top of your head, but then his hand was smoothing over your back, gentle, comforting. 

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, softly. “Together, okay?”

You nodded, knowing he could feel it, and he held you impossibly closer. It didn’t solve it. There were still fraternization rules, still some kind of unofficial vetting process you knew Mav and Ice would put you through, not to mention Penny…but as Bradley held you, you let it be enough.

And maybe it was enough, because, as your body hummed with the reminder of it, you were his.

//

tagging: @callsign-fangirl @bradshawsbitch @mxgyver @withahappyrefrain @teacupsandtopgun @lewmagoo @nancyxsorbet @sebsxphia @laracrofted @roleycoleyreccenter @sushiwriterhere @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @callsignvalley @wildbornsiren @hangmanshoney idk most people follow me for hangman and coyote so hope i did okay by roo

[lvis44]

Sex & Candy // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warnings: SMUT 18+ (Minors DNI), FWB/Unestablished Relationship, Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Alcohol, Swearing, Kinda Rushed?, Not Edited/Proofread

Word Count: 4.8k+

Summary: A long day at work and an even longer time apart can all be made better by some chocolate and the man that can make the whole world stop.

Notes: This was requested a while ago and I totally stopped writing it like halfway through and forgot about it, but here we are! I have some angst in the works and also maybe a little blurb for vegas, we shall see how that shit show goes.

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

MSG Lewis: In town for a few days, you wanna grab dinner tonight?

MSG: Stuck at work :(.... Drinks later?

MSG Lewis: As long as I get to see you

MSG: I’ll let you know when I’m done

You huffed, tossing your phone on the desk in front of you before daring a glance at the clock. It would be another few hours until you were able to leave the office and you hated to keep him waiting. The two of you weren’t in a committed relationship but anytime he was in the city, he would be at your door, taking you to fancy dinners or spending hours in your sheets. Every time you saw him it made your heart clench, always wanting more with him but knowing he wouldn’t be agreeable, not for a few years at least. The minutes ticked by like hours as you finished up the last bits of your paperwork, the sound of the clock on your wall teasing you with every tick. You had been ready to leave for hours but with the knowledge you would be seeing him now, the temptation to call it a day was tenfold. Your assistant brought takeout to your desk, making you sigh. You could be at a beautiful restaurant with an even more beautiful man, but instead you were eating barely warm pasta at your desk alone.

Finally you were done, the clock nearing 9pm. You half wondered if he would have found something else to keep himself busy for the night, you wouldn’t blame him. You pondered just going home, not wanting to embarrass yourself with an unanswered message. You decided to push your pride to the side, wanting him more than you wanted to keep your dignity.

MSG: Just getting ready to leave the office

You sent your first text, wanting to leave the door open for him to offer a plan, never wanting to impose, already too lucky to have his attention.

MSG Lewis: That’s way too late love :(

You frowned as you read his message, worried you had missed your window, but a second message came only a moment later.

MSG Lewis: How about you meet me at my place, I’ll send you a car.

Your frown was quickly reversed, he still wanted to see you, only worried about how late you were leaving work.

MSG: Can’t just leave my car at work silly

MSG: I’ll see you soon

MSG Lewis: Wait, have you eaten? I can get us something

You smiled again, the care he showed you would always make you swoon, wish you could keep it all to yourself.

MSG: Ate at my desk, now stop texting me so I can come see you xx

MSG Lewis: Okay okay! Drive safe beautiful, see you soon

Thankfully he didn’t live too far from your office, a trip that you had made a hundred times at this point. You were giddy as you pulled up to the gate to his house, having been too many weeks since you’d seen him. His schedule made things difficult but you would always be honored to have the small moments you could. He must have gotten a notification when you pulled in because he was already waiting with his door wide open. He was in his cozy clothes, large arms crossed over his broad chest and the most adoring smile on his face. You tried to keep yourself calm as you all but lept out of the car to reach him. His arms were open the second he saw you approach, meeting you halfway down the driveway, his feet bare against the pavement without a care.

“God I missed you.” He whispered into the side of your head as you nuzzled your face into his neck, taking in his scent that you missed for so long.

“I missed you too.” You sighed, placing a gentle kiss on the strong muscle of his neck.

He pulled away, only enough to look at you, his arms still firmly wrapped around your waist. Suddenly you felt self conscious, very aware that you had just come from a very long day at work and definitely didn’t look your best, but staring at his face you didn’t see a hint of judgment. Yet still you felt the need to apologize, very unnecessarily.

“Sorry I didn’t get the chance to change, was just excited to come see you.” You told him, looking away from his eyes and locking your gaze on his chest in front of you.

“Oh shush, you look gorgeous. You could show up here in a trash bag and I’d still be happy to see you.” Lewis chuckled at your suddenly shy demeanor. 

You finally looked up to him again. His eyes were gentle and you could tell he meant what he was saying. The moment your gaze held his, his hand was cradling your cheek and his lips were on yours. The kiss was much sweeter than many you had shared in your time together and it made your stomach flip. Something felt different.

“Come on, let’s go inside and you can tell me all about your long ass day at work.” He smirked when he finally pulled away. His large hand grasped yours and started pulling you along to his open door.

He led you to his kitchen, two glasses of wine already waiting on the island and you couldn’t help but smile. He grabbed them, letting you take one from his hand before pulling you close to him again. He raised his glass to yours in a toast.

“To finally being able to unwind.” He whispered, a small smile on his lips.

“To finally being able to unwind.” You sighed.

He sat you down at the island, asking if you needed anything before he was busying himself in the kitchen.

“Lewis, I told you I already had dinner, you don’t have to make anything.” You said, laughing as you watched him rummaging in his fridge.

“I know, but first of all, eating at your desk doesn’t sound particularly relaxing, second of all, you never said you had dessert.” He said, his head still in the fridge, making you laugh once again.

“Mmmm,” you hummed, “and what exactly do I get for dessert?” You questioned him, your eyes scanning the muscles of his back flexing through his t-shirt.

He shot you a look over his shoulder as he made his way to the counter with an armful of things you couldn’t quite see.

“All in due time darling, all in due time.” His voice was playful yet promising and you felt your stomach flip.

“You know I’m not good with surprises.” You whined jokingly.

“Oh I’m well aware,” He laughed, “now tell me, how was work?”

You knew there was no use arguing with the most stubborn man you had ever met, so you started to fill him in on the stresses of your day, watching his shoulders flex as he chopped things you couldn’t see. His eyes weren’t on you but you could tell you had his full attention as he asked questions and made remarks about coworkers he knew you didn’t care for. By the time he turned back around your glass of wine was empty and he was immediately filling it back up.

“Okay, so don’t laugh at me,” He started with a chuckle, “but I thought we could break out my chocolate fountain.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, he immediately sent you a playfully stern look.

“Your chocolate fountain? Why do you have a chocolate fountain?” You asked, trying to suppress your giggle.

“I bought it for a party and never touched it again,” He explained, “but I thought it could be fun. Besides, who doesn’t love chocolate and strawberries?”

“Touche.” You said, raising your glass towards him.

“Okay good, because I may have already set it up in the other room.” He said, giving you a sheepish look, rolling his lips into his mouth to avoid the grin threatening on his face.

“Of course you did.” You giggled, already hopping down from your seat.

“Alright, this way my dear.” He laughed, grabbing the bottle of wine and the bowl of strawberries, somehow also managing to pat your ass to get you to move.

When you walked into the den you wanted to melt. He had candles set up around the room and the lights low. The chocolate fountain was set up on the table in the middle of the room with a variety of pillows and blankets on the floor in front of it. He urged you to sit, right in front of the fountain, nestled into the pillows. The second you were comfortable on the floor he was taking off your heels and massaging your calves, making your head lean back into the couch behind you. Your head lulled to the side, looking at him. He had settled in right beside you, taking your legs and placing them in his lap.

“I know we haven’t seen each other enough recently and it sounds like work’s been getting stressful. I just want you to be able to relax.” He said softly, his arm draping around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

You couldn’t help but nestle further into him, enjoying his warmth and soothing touch.

“It’s okay, I know you’re a very busy man and work is always stressful.” You laughed at the end of your sentence.

“Well let me give you a little bit of peace.” He whispered, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“You know what would be amazing?” You said, lifting your head to look at him.

He raised his eyebrows for you to continue.

“One of the chocolate strawberries I’ve been promised.” You giggled, making him grin.

“Yes ma’am.” He said playfully, pecking your lips before leaning forward to grab a strawberry.

You watched as he carefully spun the strawberry in the chocolate making sure it was fully coated, ever the perfectionist. He leaned over bringing it to your mouth with his other hand underneath, making sure to catch any drops that may come off. He watched you intently as your lips wrapped around the chocolate coated fruit, a small content moan leaving you. He took his hand back, finishing the last bit of berry that you hadn’t eaten.

Your nose scrunched at his action, “Eating my leftovers now, are you?”

He laughed, “My tongue has had a lot more of you than just your leftovers, think I can handle it.”

Your face immediately flushed, looking away from him making him giggle, he loved to rile you up, make you shy.

“C’mon.” You heard him say, making you turn back to face him. He had another strawberry ready, right in front of your lips.

Once again he watched intently as you took a bite, his eyes growing heavy. A small bit of chocolate dripped onto his wrist. Before he could take his hand away you grabbed his forearm, licking away the drop, making sure to keep your eyes on him the entire time. You watched as he let out a deep breath, one that looked like he had been holding for a long time.

“Can’t let any go to waste, it’s delicious.” You shrugged with a smirk, enjoying being able to get him as flustered as you felt.

“Mmm,” He hummed, bringing his hand to your jaw, “well you’ve got some right here.”

His thumb brushed over the corner of your mouth, drawing over your bottom lip before adding just the slightest pressure, making you open your mouth. You welcomed his thumb onto your tongue, the taste of him better than the chocolate. You made sure to swirl your tongue over the pad of his thumb, watching as he licked his lips slowly, enjoying the show. His thumb drew your bottom lip down, his face now much closer to yours than before, his hand still cupping your jaw.

“You’re a tease, you know that?” His voice was low and taunting.

“How am I a tease when you know you’ll get exactly what you want?” You whispered, a small smile on your lips.

“Yeah? What is it that I want?” He raised an eyebrow, his lips coming closer to yours.

“More chocolate?” You giggled, pulling away from him.

You knew exactly how this night would end and you were more than happy with it, but it was always fun to tease him, it brought out another side of him that you were always happy to unlock. You watched as he bit his lip, trying and failing to suppress his smile, rolling his eyes as he shook his head.

“I suppose I can’t argue with that.” He playfully sighed, watching as you leaned it to grab a piece of fruit. He chuckled as you took your time fully covering the entire surface with as much chocolate as possible.

“What?” You said over your shoulder, sending him a look.

“Just wondering if maybe you would prefer a spoon, skip the fruit altogether.” He said through a laugh.

“Oh hush, you know I’m a slut for chocolate, it has to be perfectly coated, needs to have the right ratio of fruit to chocolate.” You tried to explain, your own giggle coming through your words.

“I see,” His chuckle had calmed down now as his arms wrapped around your waist, his head nuzzling into your neck, “is that all you're a slut for?”

“I think we both know the answer to that.” You sighed as he nipped at the skin below your ear, forgetting about the candy in your hand almost entirely.

His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you further into him. He stopped his slow assault on your neck, resting his chin on your shoulder and nudging your cheek with his nose.

“You gonna eat that?” He whispered, reminding you of the fruit still in your hand, untouched.

You slowly shook your head, bringing it to his mouth. His bite was slow, keeping his eyes locked on yours. The way his lips wrapped around the berry made your stomach twist, visions on them all over your body. A low, content moan came from the back of his throat, almost as if he hadn't meant to make the sound. You were about to pull your hand away, but the second you tried he grabbed your wrist and brought it back to his mouth. He took the last bit of the berry as well as the tip of your finger into his mouth, wrapping his lips around your finger for only a moment before pulling away with a smirk. You could feel the heat in your cheeks and you knew he could see it too. You noticed a small smear of chocolate along his bottom lip, for a moment you contemplated wiping it off the same way he had done to you moments ago, but you opted for a different approach. You leaned into him, just ghosting the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip. That is all you had meant to do but within moments he had taken your tongue into his mouth, sucking on it like he had something to prove, something to claim. Within the blink of an eye he was kissing you hard, his own tongue making its way into your mouth as he pulled you fully into his lap. You were straddling him now, your arms making their way around his shoulders so you could pull him even closer, feel his strong chest against yours even if only through the fabric of your shirts. His hands that had been placed on your waist made their way down to your ass, taking greedy handfuls as he began to guide your hips to rock against him. You could feel him through his sweats, only half hard and already an impressive size. He groaned against your lips, the feeling of being together again in the smallest of ways already almost overwhelming. You had missed the feeling of being close to him so much and you could tell it was reciprocated.

“Need you.” He muttered against your lips, his voice breathless.

It was rare for him to seem desperate, never had you heard him even begin to beg. His small admission made your heart soar. You always knew he wanted you, he wouldn’t keep calling if he didn’t, but it was rarely something that he spoke.

“What about the chocolate? Gonna let it go to waste?” You teased him, you really couldn’t help it.

“I’m sure we can figure something out.” He whispered against your skin, his kisses now trailing down your neck. You could feel the ghost of a smirk spread across his lips.

Sometimes you forgot just how strong he was, but as he effortlessly lifted you to lay you back against the blankets on the floor, you were reminded once again of just how powerful the man above you was. His hands were under your shirt immediately, desperately trying to take it off. He was hasty in his movements, unlike himself, almost frustrated at the discovery of the buttons on your blouse. You leaned up, kissing him softly as you helped him undo the trail of buttons, shrugging the fabric off your shoulders. The moment that was done your hands were under his shirt, pushing it up until he had to sit up and remove it himself. He was back over you immediately, his toned chest pressing up against you making you sigh. You ran your hands down the bare skin of his back, reveling in the strong muscle you felt, imagining the tattoo you were blindly tracing.

“I’ve missed you so much,” His words were rushed, like they were being forced out of him, as he kissed down your chest, “haven’t even been with anyone else, I’ve only wanted you.”

Your bra was quickly discarded before he took your perked nipple into his mouth, not giving you even a moment to process what he had just said. Your eyes fluttered shut as a soft moan escaped you.

“That sound, fuck, I think about it all the time. It’s like fucking music.” He said softly into your skin as his wet lips trailed kisses to your other breast.

Only seconds later you felt his warmth leave you, as you slowly opened your eyes a warm liquid landed directly in the valley of your breasts making you gasp. Then you felt his tongue, flat and warm he licked the same trail before his lips were on yours again. You didn’t even have to ask what he had just done, immediately tasting the chocolate on his tongue.

“Told you we would figure something out.” He smirked against your lips.

As he distracted you with kisses his hand made its way to the hem of your skirt. The second you felt the tips of his calloused fingers running up the inside of your thigh you couldn’t help but buck your hips, making him giggle against your lips. He decided not to tease you too much, swiftly moving your panties to the side so he could run his fingers through your already drenched folds.

“Fuck, always so ready for me.” He groaned, nuzzling his head into your neck, leaving teasing nibbles on your skin as he softly stroked you.

When the pads of his fingers finally landed on your clit you moaned loudly, needing the relief.

“That feel good, baby?” He coaxed you as his fingers slowly worked you, barely enough but still heavenly.

“More, Lew, please.” You whimpered into the air as he pulled back to look at you.

He didn’t respond for a moment, gazing down at you with a look you couldn’t quite make out. He didn’t say a word before his fingers were slipping down to your entrance. With no warning he plunged a thick digit inside of you, curling in the perfectly practiced manner that would have you writhing in seconds. His thumb took over the actions against your clit as he gently eased a second finger inside of you, not waiting around for you to adjust. He was needy tonight, determined to have you exactly how he wanted. The look on his face was one of pure concentration and lust. His brows were furrowed, pupils blown out, his lips parted just barely. He was studying you, drinking in every reaction you offered, committing everything about you to memory for the next time he was gone for weeks on end. 

You were struggling to focus on anything but the feeling of his hands on you, but you wanted him more. You used your last bit of will power to get your hands to the front of his sweatpants, palming the heavy bulge there that you could tell wasn’t restricted by anything. You gave him a small squeeze before trailing your hand up to his belly, determined to get him out of his pants. He faltered for only a moment but regained himself quickly, rendering you just about useless as he began to scissor his fingers inside of you with purpose. You slipped your hand into the front of his sweats as you used your other to pull his head down to you, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes were heavy as they bore down into yours. The sigh he let out as you wrapped your hand around his rigid length was one that sounded almost pained. He was hot and heavy in your palm, could feel him pulsing, painfully turned on.

“Lewis, please, just want you.” You whispered against his lips, your words carrying more meaning than you wanted.

“Yeah, of course, fuck, yeah.” He said just as quietly, scrambling to try to get his pants off while still trying to touch you. He seemed almost like a teenage boy who was about to hit it for the first time and it made you want to laugh. The best, most experienced partner you'd ever had, and still acted like he never thought the day would come. He somehow managed to kick his sweats off while still keeping his fingers planted deeply inside you, steadily bringing you to a peak.

He was beautiful in the soft candle light, his features were sharper and his beard somehow looked fluffier, the glow of the flames made his tattoos glisten. It all almost distracted you from the other beautiful part he had just exposed to you. He was thick against your stomach, his tip almost burgundy from how hard he was, steadily leaking precum. It made your confidence peak. The man, who you thought was inarguably the most attractive being to walk the planet, was in this state because of you. There was evident displeasure across his face when he realized he would have to disconnect from you, even if only for a moment, if he wanted to take your skirt off. He did, throwing it off to the side making you say a silent prayer it hadn’t landed on a flame.

He knelt back on his heels in front of you, eyes wandering all over your body as one hand grasped his cock, the other came up to his mouth. You could see your glistening arousal on his fingers as he took them onto his tongue, groaning as he tasted you. Regularly he would have set up camp with his head between your thighs by now, making you come more times than you thought possible before he was finally inside of you, but you could tell that wasn’t going to happen right now.

“How do you always taste so good, hmm?” He asked with a small smirk as he positioned himself back over you, using the head of his cock to nudge against your clit. You couldn’t respond, only gasping as he did it again.

He pressed his forehead firmly against yours as he lined himself up with your entrance, barely any pressure but you could already anticipate the stretch that was about to come.

“Gonna make you come on my tongue so many times you forget your own name later, but right now I need this, we need this.” He said lowly as he started to push into you.

You wrapped a leg around his hip as you clung to him for dear life. Rarely did you take him without coming first, his size was notable and thankfully he knew that. He was slow and gentle, easing himself into you as he softly told you how good you were doing for him, how incredible you felt around him. He let out the most content groan you had ever heard from him once he was seated inside you. The stretch had your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you dug your fingernails into his shoulder blades. He stayed still for a moment, letting you take your time adjusting, only moving once you started gently rocking your hips up toward him. Soft moans and groans filled the room as he fell into a steady pace, a rhythm you weren’t used to from him. It felt like he was melding the two of you into one, taking care of your soul. He was leaning down on his forearms, caging you in with his forehead still pressed to yours. Occasional kisses were left to your lips that you tried desperately to reciprocate but all you could do was whimper into his mouth.

“Let me take care of you baby, wanna make you feel good.” He murmured against your jaw as he brought your other leg up around his hip, making him press even deeper into you. He always managed to talk to you, no matter how much he was enjoying himself or how lost in pleasure he seemed. It was something you envied, usually left with nothing but the ability to moan and say his name the moment his hands were on you. 

His change in angle had you crying out, your nails dragging down his back causing a deep groan to escape him. Tonight was different and you could tell. You could feel your stomach clenching, your high approaching quickly despite the little prep he had given you, his hand hadn’t even made it down to your clit as it usually would right before you were about to come. The sex felt like more of a connection and less of just a fuck but you couldn’t let yourself get your hopes up.

“God, you're close aren't you?” He groaned as he felt you clench around him. All you could do was nod as your eyes shut tight.

“Come on baby, let go for me.” He said softly, kissing your neck, “I’ve got you, I’m right here, come all over me, you’re doing so good.”

His words pushed you over the edge, you pulled him down onto you very aware that he had simply let you, letting him crush you as you moaned loudly. The second he felt your walls fluttering around him, his hips were stuttering against you. You could tell he was trying to fuck you through your own release but losing out to the sheer pleasure he was in. The two of you came together, a rarity between you. Your ears were ringing but you were able to hear the beautiful pained sound he made as he released into you, painting your walls and throbbing deep inside of you. You felt him go limp on top of you for a moment, his fingers very lazily tracing up and down your thigh. You were no better, floating somewhere in between space and time. It had been a while since you had come that hard and your brain had simply turned to mush. It wasn’t until you heard his soft, raspy voice that you started to come back into yourself.

“You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?” He giggled into your neck.

“Hmm?” You answered, not quite ready to form a full sentence, your fingers softly tracing over his sweaty back.

He propped himself up ever so slightly so he could look at you, still deep inside of you and making no move to pull out.

“I’ve really missed you, I always miss you like crazy when I’m away. I’m constantly thinking about when I’m going to get to see you next. I never want anyone else because nothing compares to this.” He said softly, more than likely repeating the words he had just said.

“I always miss you too Lewis.” You told him, reaching up to run your fingers through his beard. You weren’t quite sure what else to say, not quite sure what his admission meant.

“Stay the night? Please?” He asked, the last part sounding almost like a plea as he leaned into your touch.

“Of course,” You whispered, “but only if I can shower before bed.”

He chuckled at you, leaning down to place a soft kiss to your lips, “Always, but I think we need to have some more fun with the chocolate fountain first.”

His eyes were gleaming with mischief and you couldn’t help but question if you would be sleeping at all.

[iridescentxstars]

ofc girlie !!!! yknow the one wink wonk

Mafia!AU + They told you that they would kill for you but you didn't think that they were serious... or did you? + Knife play + Blood play

mafia!bangchan x fem!reader || prompt: they told you that they would kill for you but you didn't think that they were serious... or did you? || kinks: knife play, blood play, free use, orgasm denial || warnings: implied killing, possessive ownership, kind of borderline dark themes || wc: 830~

please remember this is all fictional. this work is NSFW and contains SMUT, if you are under 18+ DO NOT INTERACT

The blade shines, catching the kitchen lights, as Chan walks towards you, shoes dragging in mud and leaving a trail of evidence in his wake. The storm rages outside, amplifying the tension in the air as the lightning brightens the dark sky. A large hand lands heavy next to you, his firm body pressing against your back and pushing your stomach harshly against the counter, while the knife is gently laid against your collarbone.

One wrong move and your blood will stain the freshly cleaned blade.

“Tell me,” his deep baritone voice speaks directly against your ear, lips brushing lightly against the shell as they move. “Who do you belong to?” You swallow, careful not to shiver at the possessive tone in his voice lest you got nicked. “Tell me, who said you could leave the house?”

You know not to answer, you know that any answer would result in him deciding that you’re more trouble than you're worth so you stay quiet.

“What did I tell you when I claimed you that night? When I had you spread before me and screaming my name?” Bloodied fingertips trail up your wrist, along your forearm and bicep before gripping your jaw and holding it tightly. It’s fresh, sticky, marking your skin as he makes you stare at your distorted reflection in the window. Flecks of blood dirty his devilishly handsome features, red stains his blonde locks where he had run his fingers through them, and even though you cannot clearly see his suit – you know the jacket discarded earlier when he entered the room would be coated in it. “What did I say would happen if you dared to entertain another man?”

He waits, his tightening grip on your jaw bordering on pain as he waits for you to answer. “You’d kill him. You’d kill anyone who touched what belonged to you.”

A pleased hum vibrates through his broad chest and Chan carefully moves the knife up, the sharp blade pressing against your neck hard enough to break skin. “And yet, you decided to test me?” Chan drags the blade down your chest, hand still keeping your head in place so you can watch the blade pop open every button on the shirt you’re wearing with practised ease. It should not be that attractive, it should be terrifying to know he has a knife so close to your heart, and yet, you clench your thighs together like a desperate whore waiting for the sharp pain that comes with Chan marking your skin.

Never scarring, oh no, he knows better than to leave permanent scars on the body he worships daily but he always loves to leave marks that proves his ownership. His claim. Reminders that what he does to you is for pleasure, not pain.

Beads of blood bloom from each fresh cut, each one causing the heat between your legs to burn with such a need that you push your ass against the bulge growing in his tight slacks. He’s fucked you against every surface of his house, he’s taken you in every position whenever he’s in the mood and he’s reminded you every single time that he’ll do it again – he’ll do it as many times as he wants, when he wants.

And you’ll let him.

Every fucking time, without question, you’ll spread your legs and let him have whatever he wants.

“Spread for me,” his feet tap at your ankles and you follow his command as Chan finishes ridding your shirt of all the buttons and leaving it open, body easily accessible for his needs. The knife clatters to the ground before Chan turns you around to face him and he lifts you up so your ass can sit on the cold surface of the counter, soaked cunt on display as his hand returns to your throat and keeps you in place while the other traces every cut. You hiss slightly as he drags calloused fingers over every fresh cut, spreading the blood over your chest, your stomach, like an artist painting a fresh canvas. “Next time,” Chan says, a threatening tone contradicting the teasing trail his fingers are making down to your core, “you decide to test whether I’ll kill anyone who touches you,” he pushes two fingers in without resistance but it’s still enough to make you gasp. “I’ll fucking kill you, understood?”

You nod, nod furiously as he fucks his fingers into your needy cunt so harshly that you can feel your climax building quickly. Fuck, you’ll do anything, absolutely anything he wants as long as he keeps you feeling this good. So good…

Just before you cum, right as you feel yourself tipping over the edge, Chan’s hands are removed from your hole and wiped on his slacks, a cruel grin gracing his lips as he listens to your whine and beg. “Behave and maybe I’ll finish you off later.”

Oh, you’ll behave. There’s no doubt about that. None at all.

[saintblk]

SHAWTYY! You are feeding my Kaldur obsession like that mannnn is delicious but if you can I was thinking a kaldur and wyynde x fem! Atlantean reader. Like she’s pregnant (or they wanna get her pregnant *wink wink*) fluff or smut or both. Like imma eat up anything you write sooo go crazy shawty!

(Like I just love them so much it hurts😭)

ah to have two fictional men manhandle tf out of me:( bby your mind 10/10 i love this scenario wish it was me fr. i woulda had this done earlier but i’m gonna blame it on school

cw: established poly!relationship, threesome, dubcon if you squint, centred around pregnancy basically, fem!atlantean!reader but it’s not described that much

THERE WAS a change in your behaviour; a slight but noticeable one. kaldur was the first one to notice it and didn't wait very long to tell wyynde. the two began observing you closely — well a lot closer than usual. it wasn't long before they discovered the reason for the shift in your demeanour. wyynde happened to catch sight of you with mera and her son. as you doted on the small boy, the glint in your eye became evident. from the way you interacted with all the children you came across, it seemed you desperately wanted one of your own.

which is how you found yourself sandwiched between your partners, crying incomprehensible words as tears ran down your face. it'd been only moments since your last orgasm; added to the numerous orgasms preceding it. the two members inside you had came several times before, but still they rammed into you, intent on doing it again.

"c'mon pretty girl." wyynde hummed, looming over you. "you can give us one more."

you barely manage to shake your head no in protest, an action that went seemingly unnoticed. below you laid kaldur, also buried deep inside your walls while he folded your legs up against your shoulders. this way, wyynde could kneel in front of you and slide into your tight walls. they were kind enough to slow down a little, letting you ride out your last high.

the blonde pressed a kiss to your neck, breath fanning against your gills. "last one, my love. don't you want a baby?"

the whine you let out was answer enough, just the thought making you clench down on both of them. it was difficult even considering bringing it up, but the thought of bearing their child made your heart ache and your stomach twist into knots. luckily, simply the image of you carrying their baby was their driving force that night.

while kaldur whispers sweet nothings against your buzzing skin, wyynde captured your lips and pulled you into an intoxicating kiss. the ache in your stomach had long since become a sweet pang that raked through you with every thrust.

your walls further constrict around the two men, rushing them towards their own release. wyynde throbbed against kaldur’s shaft before shooting his seed into you. kaldur followed, joining the other male in filling you to the brim. once they pulled out, kaldur took it upon himself to scoop the cum leaking out of you with two fingers and shove back into your cunt.

you think you’re in the clear when both men slide off the bed, leaving you to catch your breath. but soon enough you feel your body being lifted and put into a new position.

“i know we said it was the last one.” kaldur husked and planted a kiss on your forehead.

“but if you really want a child, we must make this count.”

2023 ©️ all rights reserved by saintblk (me) | do not copy, repost, promote, or translate any of my works without my permission

side note: kaldur uses contractions in his speech when he’s having sex cause he’s not thinking:)

[euphoricfilter]

Yandere/smut Tae or Yoongi PLS 🥲🥵😵‍💫

the red means i love you:

pairing: yandere! taehyung x yandere! f. reader

genre: fluff || smut || established relationship || non-idol au || yandere

summary: taehyung always knew how to cheer you up.

word count: 1.3k

tags/ warnings: murder and blood, consumption of said blood, very very morally wrong ending/brief descriptions of a dead body, smut in the forms of: public sex, exhibitionism, unprotected sex (this is fiction, don't be stupid), squirting, creampie, mild cum play

notes: drabble game is closed <3 i think i'm slowly figuring out how to write such short smut scenes... maybe, i had to cut some of the good bits out :')

☆ this is definitely one of the more morally grey drabbles (mostly the ending) i've done so far, so please check the tags before reading!!

drabble masterlist || my main masterlist

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Taehyung was beyond an ordinary being. Crafted by hands made of gold, wired by a brain as fucked up as his own. The same gentle fingers that had moulded your brain from the depths of hell, all the little things that make us the wrong kind of human, programmed into your entities. 

Maybe you’d been designed for Taehyung, understanding his kind of love just as he understands yours. Two shattered souls finding their broken half, because surely if the both of you were insane alone, together you’re nothing but normal.  

Every dip in Taehyung’s skin and impurity in his design is utterly perfect in your eyes. Truly a god among humans. A love so raw, you find yourself toeing the line of mania; small things throwing you to the edge. Heart shattered during the moments apart, or suffocating hate for every other human he interacts with.

Now, Taehyung was perfect. He could pull off any colour, face ethereal, proportions unmatched; but you’d always felt he’d looked best in red. 

White button-up tainted, stained with the blood of a woman whose name neither of you know; will never know. 

Your thighs clench as Taehyung wipes his bloodied hands over his slacks, smearing the red further up his wrists, trailing his honeyed skin like a snake. 

Really it was her own fault, sauntering up to your table like you weren’t sitting there; like Taehyung wasn’t clearly taken. As if the ring on his finger, and eyes that belonged to you weren’t enough of a clue that he wasn’t interested in her lame attempts at seduction. 

You hadn’t been happy, understandably so. Bitter, ugly jealousy consuming your mind. Petty in the way you’d turned your head when he’d tried to talk to you, or brushing him off as he’d tried to feed you your favourite dessert. Taehyung’s lucky he knows how to brighten your mood, never one to shy away from pulling you into an alleyway beside the bar, whore of a woman taking his invitation for a good time. A shame really, when only you and Tae seem to ever find unbridled excitement from what happens after that.

Ever the sadist, your panties had slicked up deliciously at her muffled screams. 

“You’re ever so pretty” you sigh, Taehyung’s fingers digging into your jaw, sticky blood smearing across your skin. 

“I was just about to say the same thing about you, my love” he hums, plush lips skimming over the shell of your ear. 

A moan catches in the back of your throat as a stray hand grabs onto the meat of your ass, your lover’s straining cock pressed up against your lower stomach. 

“Need you, Tae” you whimper, rubbing your cheek a little further into his palm. 

He groans as you cup his bulge, gravelly in a way that has another pitiful flush of slick spilling into your panties. 

Impatient, you tug haphazardly at his belt. 

“Let me take care of you” he murmurs, slipping his thumb into your mouth, metallic tang of blood coating your tongue. 

Your legs fall open a little wider as a curious hand wanders up your skirt, nails scratching over your lacy panties. He wastes no time, tugging the crotch to the side, lips quirking up as he runs a finger through your sodden folds. 

“So wet, my love. All for me?” 

You nod, hands wandering under his shirt, nails digging into whatever skin you can hold. Lines of raw red love sure to paint his skin, a reminder that he is only ever to be yours. Dull ache of your nails on his skin sending arousal straight to his cock.

Taehyung’s lips press against your jaw, breath tickling your bare skin as he runs his tongue over your neck, working his way down your chest; tugging your blouse down below the swell of your breasts, the prettiest little canvas. 

Purple flowers bloom from your skin, Taehyung’s favourite kind of art that he spends painting each morning, your skin is always that little bit tender from his lips. 

You’re pushed against the concrete wall, back arching as the cold sinks into your bones.

Slicked-up fingers brush over your clit causing your hips to buck. 

“Turn around for me, my love” Taehyung pats your ass, tongue wetting his bottom lip when you do as told, fingers grasping the hem of your skirt. You tug it up around your waist, arching your back enough for Taehyung to get a glimpse of your slick-stained panties and sodden folds. 

“Good girl” he croons, fingers digging into the flesh of your asscheeks. 

The corners of your lips tug up when the click of his belt echoes off the walls of the alleyway, your pussy clenching around nothing as you’re reminded of where you are; world passing by, barely concealed. 

You sigh when Taehyung pulls the crotch of your panties to the side over your ass, blunt cockhead running through your folds. Your knees buckle as the tip nudges your clit, electric pleasure thrumming down your body. 

“Inside, Tae” you rock backwards, slicking his cock up further before he’s grabbing it at the base, impatient as he sinks into you. 

You moan, arousal leaking out of your pussy, leaving the inside of your thighs shiny. 

“So deep” you sigh, hand reaching back to hold Taehyung’s waist, helping him sink further into you. 

Taehyung groans, hands falling to hold your waist as he pulls back, only briefly before he’s rocking back into you. 

You quiver, fingers digging into the wall, delicate skin flaring red as Taehyung starts to pick up the pace. Guttural groan rivalled by the lewd squelch of your cunt. 

“Harder” you whine, selfish in your own pleasure as you rub your clit, hurdling towards your orgasm. 

You hear a group of people laughing, footsteps pattering louder and louder, Taehyung unashamed as he grunts, hips smacking against your ass leaving it red; leaving his claim. 

“Fuck–” he cries, “Cum for me, come on” a hand slithers round the front of your body, deft fingers snaking under the band of your bra, delicious pleasure sending you over the edge as he tugs at one of your nipples. 

Your thighs shake as you continue to thrum over your clit, body bending just enough for Taehyung’s cock to hit a sweet spot; a rush of wetness splashing against the wall. Rather, you grind your clit onto the palm of your hand, pitiful dribble wetting your thighs further as your orgasm ebbs away. 

“Fucking hell” Taehyung groans, cock twitching. 

His hand travels down the front of your body, thumbing over your clit before he’s rubbing your own watery cum into the meat of your thighs. 

“Cum Tae” you whine weakly, bordering jittery overstimulation. 

He punches back into you one more time, holding you to his chest by the weak hold he has over your pubic bone. And then he cums; thick ropes of seed soothing your insides as he gently rocks back into you. 

“So good” his head falls onto your shoulder, half-limp cock slipping out of you as he staggers back slightly. 

Your mouth falls open at the dribble of thick cum that trickles down your thighs, a breathy whimper falling off your tongue when Taehyung scoops it up, fingering it back into your pussy. 

He pulls your panties back over your hole, arm slipping around your waist to hold you up as he tugs your skirt back into place. 

“No~” you whine, “You got blood on my favourite blouse” you gape at the handprints that have seeped into the material. 

“I’ll buy you a new one, baby” he frowns, kissing your cheek, then your lips, “but first, we need to finish a little job” 

Your gaze flicks to the corpse, the poor woman is probably cold by now; the night was bitter after all.

Her blood had seeped into the crevices of the pavement, horror on her face artistic, haunting even, in the dull streetlights. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love you in red?” you turn to Taehyung, tongue wetting your bottom lip. 

“All the time, my love. You look just as enthralling” he smudges the blood on your cheek, lips pressing a chaste kiss to your lips; smudged red. Maybe with blood, maybe with lipstick. He isn’t sure, though he thinks it suits you.

[sinning-23]

Apple Of My Eye (Buggy x Ex!Reader)

ANGST ANGST NO COMFORT LOL! Angst isn’t really my specialty but my life is a goddamned tragedy so why not pull some my very pathetic love life and sprinkle it in a fan fiction lmao. ANYWAY! Enjoy!

How had he managed ot fuck up so badly with you? His pretty girl, his star. You smile and wave to panicked audience participants, the bubbles from your hands looking like pure magic. But the look in your eyes when you seen him was fierce. You twirl and bend and flip, glitter sparkling around you when you did. Of course Buggy was still enamoured with you, despite you no longer being his.

Loving Buggy was like falling. The feeling od your stomach clenching in uncertainty, waiting to hit the ground but never actually coming close to impact. He was always there to catch you arms attached to him or not.

Loving him was reassuance, making sure the knew just how important he was to you. Loving him was kind, calm, and precise. You’d kiss his face so soflty, intertwine your fingers when no one was looking and embraced him on cold nights.

But loving him was also patience. A thing in which he struggled to obtain at times. Shoving you away when all you wanted was to help comfort in the best way you knew how. Loving him...hurt. It hurt when he ignored your concerns, saying you needed to 'lighten up' or 'wheres the fun in that."

It hurt when you'd try and comfort him only to be met with anger. He needed time is all...right? and time you gave. you tried and trie dnad tried but nothing seemed to work.

Had he grown tired of you? No. It was obvious he hadn't when he would set you in his shows, you being the main act. He was never fond of sharing the spotlight but for you...his star? He'd do anything. Of course the would never tell you and he knows that's why you fell out in the first place. Poor communication on his part at least.

SO when you finally toldhim you needed to talk, avoiding looking at him, arms hugging yourself, he paniced. Of course he did. He knew that look, and th feeling in thepitof his stomach that came with it. You were going to leave him.

"Youre breaking up with me...arent you?" He chuckle bitterly, fists balling up at his sides. Even though the last thing he wanted was to be mad at you, he couldn't help the rage that filled his core. You were going to leave him...just like everyone else half

"I think we need to take a break..."You whisper, eyes welling up, knowing this was for the best. It still hurt though, but that's what it meant to love Buggy. To hurt momentaritly.

"You lied. You said you wouldn't....you." He cant seem to find the words.

Gods this whole situation is making you feel guiltier than ever. You did promise to never leave. And you still would keep it, opting not to leave the crew for his sake, no matter how much easier it’d make things.

It’s been months since the night and your heart can’t help but squeeze every time you see him. Part of you wishes things would have went different but knowing him.

It wouldn’t have.

[cirqosmos]

Did I, A Side Character Became the Male Lead's Wife?! : 「 Part 2 Teaser 」

2023 | 13+ | ONESHOT | YANG JUNGWON × READER | -> PART 1

SUMMARY the male lead was suppose to fall in love with the female lead, and yet how did he even gain an interest in you?! clenching your fist as determination blazes your orbs as you're now far beyond determined to make him dislike you for once and for all.

THEME SONG FIREWORK by &TEAM (yes I'm promoting this) if this story was a manhwa, this song is definitely the ost >:))) listen to the song while reading the teaser :3 or else i won't release this lols jk jk but who knows >:) gathering as many lunés as i can lmao.

"a lady like you, i'm afraid to say, intrigues me very much..." jungwon shots a kittenish wink right through your heart. "be my wife, milady. i'll show you how good I can be for you."

it's safe to say, that you punched a fist right to his face after spewing such shitty nonsense. that alone adding an nth time of gasps from everyone in the ballroom.

right now, unfortunately, you were sprinting to the long ass hallway without ever looking back. okay let's say you did look back and fortunately no one or neither the prince were chasing after you.

seriously, what has gone wrong with the male lead?! how in the actual fuck he had taken an interest in you? it seems as if every action you did to push him away only pulls him closer. might as well reset yourself from this world if you can.

whining immensely as you recalled your female lead's precious grin, "liz! what has come to my story?!"

yet to your utter disappointment and shock even, the news had somehow quickly reached the entire nation, everyone and anyone you could think of has been informed of the incident between you and the prince. confirming it totally as you walked through the market with the female lead.

"the prince has truly take a likening in you, milady." liz pulled up a proud smile which had you cringing. like please don't do that, please don't. you weren't supposed to be smiling like this.

"oh god, kindly refrain from uttering that prince's in front of my face, liz. he's nothing but a—" you immediately stopped yourself from spewing shit about the prince as you don't want to ruin liz's perception on him, which would possibly furthering the already inflicted damage on your original story.

*⁠.⁠✧♡

groaning again you did as you couldn't possibly hid forever too, as the author of this novel; you are fully aware of how you crafted the prince's character, that despite all of the charms and dazzling traits you moulded into him, you've added one specific thing that had him stood out the most and that was he's beyond possessive and obsessed with the female lead as it was rooted from one of his traits; competitive, dedicated and most of the time, he doesn't like to lose and that he had to get what he wanted or else..

chaos it is, and such chaos coming from the prince himself are not to be underestimated.

you are having such an enormous urge to bang your head on your bed right now as how couldn't you? who doesn't want a male lead to live and die for their lover? of course you and your damn adorable readers!

well, fiction aren't to be confused with reality after all.

but damn your life for this is your reality now—here in your own very novel.

screw your novel, screw your life, screw reality, screw the prince! you might just as well fall into your slumber now as you try plan of another way to avoid that very prince you crafted.

*⁠.⁠✧♡

the sun rays peering through the swaying curtains glints against your fluttering eyelashes, causing your orbs to hid behind the shield of your splayed fingers. stretching your arms upwards, a sense of satisfaction surged through your veins—fueling the corners of your lips to pull up in the widest grin.

you've successfully overturn your fate by not attending the prince's second invitation, squinting mischievously—he must have lose interest in you for not visiting your manor, doesn't he? with his character, he couldn't have possibly had gone that long! he sure would've been tremendously patient regarding political affairs but never at the female lead!

in chapter 16 of your novel, "blooming romances" where you've written the development of their romance that had your reader's heart evaporating into nothingness as they weep under the comment section over how a single sentence you wrote had made them feel so damn single and why they haven't found a guy like the prince yet:

— after gaining the heart of lady liz; prince jungwon was beyond ecstatic to have another day out with his lover, however alike the eclipse's separation—royal and political affairs had ripped him away from the comfort of his lover's arms. thus, he had been occupied with so much papers within the palace's quarters.

yet as soon as the grey cloak crawled back over the blue sky, pulling the moon back with it—so does the prince himself, leaving the stacked up papers on his desk and appearing before the lady's quarters after much effort climbing onto the firm tree.

wasting not a breathe, as the apples of his cheeks serving as physical form of his infatuation towards the lady—the tips of his tongue mellowed in instinct for her, along with his hand that were accustomed to his sword's handle to enveloped beneath her fingers—pressing a lover's vow on the top of her hand through his faint red lips.

"milady, i fear i had no longer the strength to contain myself from letting out a single breath without your presence." his lips ghosted against his lover's ear, "it had my patience crumbling into nothing when you, milady had reigned over my heart."

ah! what a joyous occasion! you plopped on the bed with your gathered strength as you giggled like a child. bliss consumed your entire soul with your surging scream alerting the entire manor.

swaying your pillow in a circular motion as you sprint towards your hallway, "juliet! liz! i'm the happiest person ever in the world— oh jesus, someone host a damn buffet and tell everyone in the manor to join!"

"milady!" you saw juliet sprinting towards your way.

"juliet! oh dear, you should—"

"milady!" she panted right after falling on your arms. "the— the—"

"hm?! why are you sweating so much? what happened?"

taking a deep humongous breathe she did before uttering one sentence that had your head blasting into the ghost quiet vacuum of space.

"the prince has arrived!"

"what?!" your jaw dropped on the ground with gigantic mirror crashing behind you.

*⁠.⁠✧♡

"i seriously have no idea what do you find interesting in me?"

"i have yet to know, milady. that's the very reason i had the courage to ask for such a bold request from you."

"and what makes you assume i would agree to that?" you raised your left eyebrow.

"i have yet to resort to such foul actions, which i'd rather not to milady."

your blood surged cold through your veins, "a-are you threatening me?"

"certainly i do not intend it to sound that way, i prefer to keep this as civil as possible as you—milady, truly does has gained my interest and it would truly be vain if i.. wasn't given the chance to prove my worth to you. all i am asking is to grant me a chance to prove myself for you."

*⁠.⁠✧♡

"don't you have any rules you want to share?"

jungwon emitted a giggle as soon as he processed your words, "oh, i don't think i need one. after all, whatever you may wish, shall i grant."

"then, stop chasing me—"

"except that one." his lips pulled up in a mischievous smirk, the sun places a tender kiss on the strands of his hair—dripping honey hues on his cheeks which reflected against his feline orbs. "then shall we begin the countdown, milady?"

thirty days, it is; for him to pour his entire efforts to gain your heart and soul, while you extremely adamant in your mission to make him lose interest in you and make him fall in love with your precious female lead, liz.

*⁠.⁠✧♡

"i see, that this is the lady our prince had taken an interest for?" a middle aged man along with a young lady appeared before you, clearly trying to get your attention.

"she truly live up to the rumor, father." the lady snickered behind her lacy handfan, her eyes held traces of mockery in it.

"i dare say that his royal highness had quite a special taste.."

you tilted your head at them, sighing as you very well know where is this going. of course why wouldn't you? this was the dialogue you created during a crying session after your favourite manhwa ends on a horrible note. opting to torture your characters in your dusty side novel by using this dialogue on them, and later had a beaming idea to recycle it for the female lead's fateful encounter with the nobles.

"if you'd like to keep your tongue, then i advise you to keep it shut. sir?" goosebumps raised over the back of your neck when the prince appeared, his feline eyes held irritation in it as he stood beside you. "you had no right to speak that way to my future wife."

"i- apologize, your highness!"

"i'm quite sure the one of the rules i stated that you would refrain from calling me.. your wife? didn't we?" you sighed.

"forgive me, milady." jungwon shrugged. "such atrocious tongue had to be cut off before it grows, and aside from that, what kind of husband would i be if i couldn't do the bare minimum of protecting my wife?"

*⁠.⁠✧♡

"why.. is lady liz here with us too, milady?" dumbfounded the prince was at the presence of the lady. you suppressed the need to smirk as the prince were facing the female lead, and you in the middle.

ah, what a sight! you couldn't help but fangirl over, cause how couldn't you?! it's like a matchmaking session and you, obviously the cupid!

"i assume there's nothing to be curious at, as this was the pact, isn't your highness? i could bring whoever i please."

"yes, but.. the pact.." jungwon pauses, then pulls a tiny smile all reserved for you. "never mind it, i had been granted the honour to be invited to the lady's manor, how ungrateful would i be if i couldn't satisfy your wishes, milady." he continues as he turns his fluttering eyes at liz. "lady liz, it's my pleasure to meet you."

"so am i, your highness."

yes! yes! freaking finally, did he turned his damn head over the female lead! you got this, you were beyond skeptical at agreeing with the pact at first but now that you've seen it before your eyes, you could make the prince fall for the female lead whenever it's your turn to invite the prince!

this is truly a blessing in disguise!

make him fall in love her, bit by bit, till his interest in you slowly divert into the female lead before his eyes. simple it is! just make sure she's always in his line of vision, so that his heart would truly realise who it was beating for this entire time.

oh dear prince, look ahead and see the perfect lady that was meant for you! for if you still refuse to do so, i'll gladly force your damn kitten eyes to look towards her, mission start!

*⁠.⁠✧♡

jungwon emitted a slight giggle, a tender smile forming in his lips. "that's fascinating of you, lady liz. is there anything you had an interest for other than that?"

"hm, i adore looking after birds, they're my precious friends that tend to help me more than i could count, your majesty. and at times, i practise the art of embroidery.."

jungwon's eyes beamed at that particular word and it didn't go unnoticed by your eyes forming countless of neon heart shapes as you watched them converse with each other, heart quenching in top fangirling mode as they were truly a match made for each other! aaah, my favourite couple!

an enchanting frame of them, what a lovely sight indeed! you could watch them all day all night, for their romance to bloom into waterfall of florals.

"how about you, lady (name)? is there anything you in particular liked about?" the prince asked you.

"uh-?" your fangirling mode switches off when both of their attention were now on you. shit, just ignore me and talk to each other! pretend i do not exist!

"i'm curious about you, milady." jungwon tilted his head at you, curiosity glazed across his feline orbs as he leaned back on the chair in a leisure manner, with his usual smirk pestering you to death.

*⁠.⁠✧♡

you heard a few knocks on your door, the maid's head slipping in through the edge. "milady?"

"hm?" you didn't bother to pay a glance as you wiped off the excess soaking of your hair, still in your spiral of dilemma over what happened an hour ago. your stupid mistake of your damn foot conspiring to trip into the damn lake in a rare opportunity!

"his majesty were asking for your presence, milady."

"and what is his royal highness trying to conspire right here, huh? i am not his personal assistant to dress him up." you snorted, "what is this, barbie and ken? barbie girl in a barbie world?"

it's fantastic? this is nothing close to fantastic at all! you were so damn close to have them crashing their lips against each other!

"goddamnit why is this song kept repeating in my mind!" you whined to into your oblivion of despair.

the maid who had been patiently waiting for you to finish your emo session, spoke once again. "but milady, his majesty had been having troubles since an hour ago. he had only requested for you and no one else."

"oh god, fine!" you smashed your soaked towel on the table, huffing as you went on your way to the guest room. stomping your feet ever so loudly as you pause before the double door, "your highness, may i ask what in the world are going on for you to request for my presence?"

"come in, please."

you didn't think much as you pushed the door open, yet your lungs bursted into flames when his toned chest and down your eyes goes to his bunny pack of buns greeting your lazy orbs which had by far rattling into chaos as of now.

he's freaking half naked?! your mind chanted it like an unlimited quota. shirtless he was with that pestering smirk on his face as if he did this on purpose.

"milady?" jungwon smirked, "why don't you welcome yourself in? after all, this is your manor."

*⁠.⁠✧♡

"i'd certainly would not dare, milady. but if you insist." he shots a mischievous wink at your way.

seriously, you couldn't be bothered by this, aren't you? god knows how many filth you've written in the past few years of your life, you could even describe all of it without releasing a few screams or there, which shows how much of a pro you are.

you were beyond nervous when he pushes the door opened to his room, revealing the entire outlook of the furnitures, painting, couches, table, and lastly.. the king-sized bed.

bitch, get a hold on yourself.

*⁠.⁠✧♡

"milady," he pushed you on top of the bed, hovering over you as he caged you within his arms on both sides of your head.

"that's certainly brave of you, don't you think? milady?" he keeps emphasising the last word as if he adores to call you that very much, adding such seductive tone had your heart skipping a beat.

"milady." he whispered one more time.

he pressed a passionate kiss on your forehead, "milady." chanting the word a dozen more times as he continued on making you feel so loved.

his affectionate gestures were driving your soul insane and your knees weak as you indulged yourself in his love—the love he bestows only for you.

"milady."

「 © talesofyuan on tumblr 2023 」 all rights reserved. do not copy or post without permission.

[hopeful-puffin]

Some 168/169 thoughts

Long post is long.

These chapter have consumed my mind for literally weeks now. And, now that they aren't fast-pass exclusives (and I'm no longer on vacation), I wanna talk a bit about them. First and foremost, as with all of my posts, I'm rambling. For another, I've had 3+ weeks of processing, so I'm trying to remember my initial feelings.

With that out of the way, off I go.

Just getting this out of the way first. I absolutely adore how Siren automatically lowers himself to be eye-level with Kappa. It's such a little detail but I love it all the same every time I reread 168.

Siren is understandably in a lot of shock here. But he quickly realizes this is Kappa as a child. It's not an act of prostration as much as it is being on the same level as Kappa physically. Rather than make Kappa literally look up to him, he's choosing to look at this from Kappa’s point-of-view. I'm sure I'm just looking too deeply into this, but I found it both very sweet and conscientious of him. Whether Siren acted intentionally or reflexively is something only he knows though.

I'll be honest; I was mostly okay until this exact moment. At this point I've had to accept that my spirit fictional character may very well be a himbo, shark mermaid. Like, I've felt this, I've just never put it into these words exactly. And, let me tell you, it f*cking hurt reading this part. I'm weird, and reading out-loud helps me solidify and remember lines in a story.

I didn't pick up this series to see the ugly sides of myself being reflected back at me. I thought this was just some silly, cute romp with some LGBTQ+ feesh. Now I'm addicted. Thanks, Obama Ms. Martin.

It took me reading this until I could do so without crying to realize what I think Kappa is trying to get at here. Siren’s biggest fear is failing those he treasures; from his people to his boyfriend. What gave Kappa the courage to share this tragic part of his own personal history with Siren is more than just feeling safe with him or wanting Siren to understand why he hates knives so much.

Kappa has been where Siren fears to go. He's failed and only points the finger of blame at himself. But he survived it. He "failed" and he's still "here." Kappa is trying to show Siren that it's safe for Siren to express his failings with Kappa. That Kappa wants to protect Siren just as Siren wants to protect Kappa. That, even if he perceives himself as failing, Siren is still "here."

Going off of that, Kappa is trying to get Siren to a accept his perceived failings and be open about them. Because it's the only way either of them are going to heal with their past mistakes. Kappa is wonderfully patience and sincere here that it just breaks my heart. He repeatedly reaches out for Siren, being a literal light in Siren's darkness. Darkness that has loomed over his head since the God's Mouth (which he even mentions).

I have to say, I've always been a fan of how Ms. Martin frames these sequences. It's like getting a little window into the souls of these characters and how they are processing their situation. Siren’s going from fighting back against the hand Kappa is extending to him, arguing that he of all people doesn't "deserve" this, to gradually (and painfully) talking himself into making himself vulnerable with Kappa in a way he likely never has with someone else. It's especially obvious in the presentation of Siren’s teeth. He goes from baring them in a clenched grimace to hiding them behind a wobbly, frightened frown. It's hard. You can tell Siren wants to do nearly anything but this. But it's Kappa. And Kappa would never hurt him. Something he argued against Susca way back in episode 35.

He's having to prove just how much he still believes this to be true.

Throwing back to episode 150, we get some hindsight in Kappa’s perspective. Why am I bringing this up now? Because it was all I could think about in this section of 169.

Because I can't help but wonder if that thought is going through Kappa’s head again at this exact moment. Kappa "hates" that Siren feels guilty. No longer "doesn't like," which is how Kappa refers to his scales; hates. So being confronted with Siren admitting to the guilt Kappa suggested has to killing Kappa here. So I'm not surprised at all that this is what finally gets Kappa to start crying alongside Siren.

This isn't even getting into all of the people Siren is apologizing to. Siren feels guilty for not being, "able to end it," because he's still alive. He wants to give up. He wants to feel useful, to "deserve" their love. But he doesn't and he doesn't want to keep fighting this fight. He's tired. He hates himself because Siren feels like all these people he cares about wouldn't have suffered had he just died.

These thoughts, spoken out loud, I think rekindle Kappa’s fear of losing Siren. A fear that I wouldn't be surprised has been at the forefront of Kappa’s mind off and on since Siren’s botched attempt at asking Kappa to fulfill the prophecy should they not have a solution once his time is up.

That last image in particular has been living rent-free in my head for 3 weeks now. And I'm so happy to finally have a screenshot of it. I've been fighting making it one of my phone wallpapers since the chapter was released from fast-pass.

Someone else has already mentioned it, but Siren’s shock likely partially stems from him reeling from his experience within the God's Mouth. Of the fake Kappa holding his face and claiming that he loves him. But I'm gonna go a little deeper in the comparison.

Fake Kappa is also asking Siren to stay with him. But where they are creepy and possessive, the real Kappa is soft and pleading.

The fake blames the others for Siren’s pain. The very same people Siren expresses guilt for not helping. The real Kappa says he doesn't care about any of that. That he loves Siren despite Siren seeing himself as weak or a failure.

The fake heavily implies that Siren should just give up. That his pain will end if he does so. The real Kappa begs Siren to keep trying. Because losing Siren is unthinkable.

I think this is why Siren hesitates before accepting what Kappa is telling him. Because last time the fake placed a hand on his fresh injury, implicating the pain it will undoubtedly further inflict upon him should he stay with it.

The real Kappa, by contrast, has his hand on Siren uninjured cheek while pleading with Siren to stay with him. Kappa wants Siren to heal by staying with him. It's such a wonderful mirroring that I keep finding myself pondering over and over again.

To the point that, once Siren gets over his shock that, despite his aforementioned apologies and feelings of being unworthy, here is someone who truly loves him despite all of that. Which Siren recognizes means this is the real Kappa.

The one who makes Siren:

Which is drastically different from:

I could on and on about this. Maybe I'll make a Part 2 since apparently Tumblr has a 30 image limit per post. I don't know. It will depend on if I feel like this adequately got my feelings off of my chest. Esoecially because I didn't get anywhere near to discussing the whole bonding with the others heart bit.

By the Surface, these two will be the death of me. OTL

[cozytief]

Wooyoung "I hate you" "I love you"

Hello ^_^ I am new X male reader/ writer. I saw a post about writing prompts and which members it goes to. I saw this prompt and my brain just ran with it. It was originally written with my OC instead of MN, so I apologize if I left the name in somewhere.

~~~

In no way does this represent Wooyoung irl or his actual personality. This is fiction.

TW: Abuse, Name calling, alcohol use, jealous Wooyoung (idk more off the top of my head)

~~~

Wooyoung knew he'd been in the wrong. M/N had wanted to go clubbing. He knew he was in a bad mood and shouldn't go. Yet, the cute smile that laid on M/N's face as he begged made Wooyoung agree. M/N had been missing the other a lot recently. Wooyoung had just gotten back from a comeback. He'd been focusing only on that. He'd been ignoring the other's texts and calls. He told himself he'd do better but everyday he'd slip back into the same bad habits. Wooyoung had watched the other get dressed, excitedly talking to him about the club they were going to. Wooyoung listened, getting dressed himself.

He'd smiled as he followed the other to the club. M/N's apartment in the heart of the city. Wooyoung had been honestly feeling better, starting to vibe. They had gotten a table and bought a bottle. Halfway into the night, Wooyoung had started to feel unhappy again. He hadn't wanted to dance, and M/N had disappeared into the crowd. He paused mid-sip as his eyes landed on M/N. The other giggling as he was sandwiched between some people. A girl in front of M/N, twerking as she looked back smirking. M/N simply giggling and he brushed against the male behind him. The male took that as a sign to grab his hips. M/N made fast work to remove the other's hands, but it was too slow for Wooyoung's liking. Wooyoung couldn't help but clench his fists as he set his drink down. He knew the other was just having fun, but it upset him. The other should be up here with him. Wooyoung looked back down to see another female joining the first and Wooyoung snapped. He made it down to the dance floor in record time. M/N's eyes landed on Wooyoung as he roughly shoved the male behind him. "Hyung-" "Shut up," He hissed, tightly grabbing the other's wrists and dragging him away. M/N's heels dug deep as he tried to stop the other. "What are you doing?" He questioned, in disbelief. Wooyoung tightened his grip, yanking the other towards him with as much force as he could. "What the fuck is wrong with you, dude," Wooyoung instantly recognized him as the one he'd shoved. "Fuck off," He spat, turning to M/N. The said male looking at him like he'd gone crazy. "We're going home," He hissed, yanking the other once more. "He's not going anywhere with you," The male said, tightly gripping M/N. Wooyoung couldn't help himself from shoving the other again. "Get your hands off of him!" The male straightened up. M/N pushed Wooyoung away, towards the exit. "It's fine. He's my boyfriend," He stated, rushing to move the angry boy from the scene. M/N flinched as he saw security arrive. "We're leaving," He stated, allowing Wooyoung to drag him out of the club. Security followed them out, watching them carefully.

Wooyoung shoved M/N away from him once they were outside. M/N stumbled before turning to Wooyoung, angry. "What the fuck was that?!" Wooyoung simply rolled his eyes, making his way towards M/N's apartment. “Answer me," He hissed out, chasing the other. "You hurt me," He hissed, rubbing his bruised wrists. "You hurt me too!" Wooyoung spat, finally turning to look at him. "Did you have fun whoring yourself out?!" M/N's mouth fell open at the words. "Excuse me?!" He spat at the other. Wooyoung shoved M/N as he spoke. "I called you a whore. Do you like grinding on strangers?!" M/N shoved Wooyoung back. "It's a club, Wooyoung! I asked you to dance and you declined!" Wooyoung shoved the other, making the other stumble backwards into the wall. "So, you hump every stranger you find?!" He hissed. Wooyoung's face was red in anger with veins showing. "You're a free use whore!" Wooyoung spat. M/N opened his mouth but froze as Wooyoung slapped him hard across the face. The other's hand had come out of nowhere, slapping him so hard his head snapped to the side. M/N felt tears fill his eyes. M/N's eyes finally met Wooyoung's. The other still angry as he glared down at him. "I can't do this," He softly confessed. Wooyoung seemed to finally falter. "What?" M/N stood up, touching his own face in disbelief. "I can't do this," His voice louder this time as he moved a step away from Wooyoung. "I hate you," The words hung thick in the air as he moved away from Wooyoung. The said male slowly realizing how bad he'd fucked up. "I love you," Wooyoung stated, moving towards M/N. The other backed up instantly, making Wooyoung pause. The unreturned words made his heart sting. "I love you," He repeated, M/N cried as he continued to back away from the other. Wooyoung felt tears come to his eyes as he realized the other wouldn't look at him. "Have one of the boys pack up your stuff," He stated softly, moving towards his apartment. Wooyoung's heart broke as he watched the other. "M/N!" The other didn't say a word, rushing away from the scene. Wooyoung sat down, tears flowing from his eyes as he fumbled for his phone. "Woo-ah?" Yunho questioned upon answering. "H-he broke up with me," The words came out a broken statement. Wooyoung knew he'd been in the wrong. He should have stayed home.

[manawari]

SOLO LEVELING WEEK

Day 6: Soulmates / Cup of Reincarnation

Based on my recent Soulmate AU.

Her death weighed his heart deeper than the heaviest rock. Everyday, Jin-woo got reminded of her lifeless body in the ground, shattering his soul into tiny pieces. He thought that "soulmates" were not real and all fiction as often seen in movies, but when he met Cha Hae-in and slowly found himself falling for her, Jin-woo accepted that it was real. . . But he did not know how painful it would be once he lost her.

Cha Hae-in became a big part of him. So, she brought along the other half of his soul when she left the world. It was truly the worst part of loving someone.

He gave his heart and fate took it away.

For years, Jin-woo witnessed people age and pass away. Him? He remained young. With the loss of the person he wished to grow old with, left him in a curse called immortality. His sister had passed away and his best friend, Yoo Jin-ho, followed shortly. They had each other. Jin-woo had no one, seeking comfort to his mother, who had lost his dad — her soulmate.

The only way for him to retrieve his mortality was to meet his soulmate and fall in love all over again.

His heart clenched. Just how many years would he have to wait? Jin-woo found no reason to be happy anymore. He was alive, but at what cost?

One day, he reached out to the Rulers and requested them to use the Cup of Reincarnation. Restart the whole world. Bring back the people who were once dead. And most of all, give everyone a second chance.

Jin-woo knew he was not the only one. His mother deserved to be with his father once again. Jin-ah would've loved to see her family whole from the afterlife, and Jin-ho would've wanted him to search for Hae-in. He waited long enough, and it hurt him every day, so it was time for him to search his soulmate all while waiting still.

Short, blonde hair and gentle grey eyes. He remembered her looks as if it was yesterday. Her smile was like a ray of sunlight casting through the shadows, radiating warmth to those in her presence, and her heart — strong and kind, withstood against the worst adversaries and battles in her life, becoming her shield as she fought with her sword. It made it impossible to meet a woman like her again.

Jin-woo swore to never make the same mistake twice.

"I'm not sure if that's really him," Yoon-ho sighed, putting down his glass of soju. "That red hair could belong to anyone. But there were too many people walking past me to even notice closely."

"If your instincts are strong, then it could be Choi Jong-in. Though, it might be that you missed him so much that anyone with red hair would be automatically him." Jin-woo said.

"I've mourned him for years, Jin-woo. Jong-in has never left my mind and I never stopped longing."

Jin-woo frowned at Baek Yoon-ho, who had become his close friend amidst their years of being immortals. "You'll meet him soon, hyung. Dungeons no longer exist in this timeline anymore, it will be easier for us to reunite with our soulmates."

"Well, I wish I have some luck. Hee-jin has already met Eun-seok, yet she doesn't know how to get close to him without making it look weird."

He chuckled. "I'm sure she will figure it out. Ju-hee is in a similar situation and she texts me all the time."

"Of course, it's her first time meeting Byung-gyu. She doesn't know how lucky she is to be his soulmate once he falls for her." Yoon-ho playfully shook his head. "Though, aren't you supposed to be envious?"

"I am. Well, quite. But it's not like I am gonna express it to her, am I? Ju-hee's my friend, and I want her to be happy after all she had been through and without worrying about me."

"Someday, it will your turn to be happy, Jin-woo," Yoon-ho smiled. "Hae-in is probably out there, waiting for you as well."

Jin-woo smiled back and nodded, raising his glass. "And I look forward to yours, hyung."

The two men clicked their glasses together and continued to drink as they chattered.

They soon bid their farewell and went to their respective ways. Even though Yoon-ho was uncertain, Jin-woo was glad that he had caught a glimpse of Jong-in, but if it was someone else, at least it would be a sign. Hee-jin had already crossed paths with her soulmate and Ju-hee as well, and sooner or later, she would return to being a mortal. Jin-woo doubted Byung-gyu would take long to fall in love with her.

His mom? Jin-woo had never seen her so happy.

A few months since the Chalice of Rebirth, Kyung-hye had met Il-hwan when she saw a burning apartment on her way home. One of the firefighters noticed her and escorted her safely through the scene. She told Jin-woo how the feeling was similar to back when they were in their youths.

When he returned home, Jin-woo did not know there was a surprise waiting for him.

"Mom! I'm—"

"Jin-woo!" Kyung-hye greeted him from the kitchen.

Jin-woo paused on the doorway, widening his eyes. "Dad?"

"Huh?" Il-hwan flashed him an odd look.

"Oh! S— sorry!" Jin-woo quickly apologized. "It's— uh, I haven't had someone to consider as a father in years. So seeing you with my mom brings out the feeling."

Il-hwan laughed. "It's okay, young man. I still don't have a kid of my own, so I would've mind treating you like one. I have a co-worker whom I treat the same."

Jin-woo chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, I assume you and my mom had dinner?"

"Yes. The food is delicious." Il-hwan smiled. "It makes me question my cooking abilities."

"I'm sure yours taste fine, sir. I hope you'll come by here next time."

"Thank you, Jin-woo," Il-hwan ruffled the younger man's hair and walked past him, heading to the door.

Jin-woo watched him leave over his shoulder. Warmth lingered in his chest. Shorter hair fit his dad better, it made him look more human rather than a "Vessel". Kyung-hye finished washing the dishes when he approached the table, seeing the meal she had prepared, causing his stomach to growl.

"Your father visited moments ago," said Kyung-hye. "And he brought flowers!"

Jin-woo let out a grin. "It seems you are becoming a mortal, mom. Dad likes you, which is weird since I'm your child."

Kyung-hye chuckled. "Oh, just think of it as witnessing the love story between your parents, son. So, have you met Hae-in?"

"No. . . "

"I'm sure you'll meet her one day," Kyung-hye made her way toward him and craned his head down to plant a kiss on the side of his head. "Don't give up."

"I've been an immortal for so long, I should be used to waiting forever, but seeing how others finally reuniting with their soulmates makes me feel. . . Lost."

"Jin-woo. . . "

"I know, mom. I have to hold on for a bit longer." Love takes patience. Jin-woo reminded himself. But how was it that he had been patient since forever and he was still yearning?

"So, you were walking out of your apartment when a robber rushed in and snatched your bag?"

"Yes, sir."

"And do you know what the robber looked like?"

"No, sir. He wears a black hoodie and a mask. Oh! He has spikey purple hair too!"

"Okay, miss. We'll just check the surveillance cameras on this block and get right on to it." Woo Jin-chul nodded. "Let's go, Sung."

Jin-woo followed suit, and then suddenly, something caught the corner of his eye. His steps abruptly stopped and he whirled his gaze across the street, eyeing the people strolling around until a particular individual sparked his senses. Golden locks of short hair and an athletic build, carrying a gym bag on her shoulder as she headed to the stairway that led to the train station.

Without a fleeting thought, Jin-woo dashed across the road, not caring about the green light.

"Oi! Detective Sung!"

He ignored Jin-chul's shout as he went to the same path she — Hae-in — took, squeezing through the crowd and brushing off their complaints at him. Other people was the least of his worry because what mattered most was reaching the girl whom he had waited for his entire life.

Don't let her disappear, Jin-woo.

You've waited for this. For her.

She's alive!

Feet squeaked against the floor and Jin-woo looked around through the throng of people in frantic. The second he spotted her again, he dashed and politely shoved people blocking his way, muttering his apologies and thanks despite their cold glares.

At last, he finally reached her. Jin-woo extended his hand and caught her wrist. It was as if the world turned slow, noises stopped, and the only vivid thing he could see was her face. . . Beautiful, soft, and young. Just like the Cha Hae-in he had always known and loved. For once, his heart paused its beating, similar to the way the flowers bloom as the sun glazed down, setting life and beauty throughout the things it touched.

"Uh. . . Do I know you?" Hae-in asked.

"Hi." Jin-woo let out a smile amidst his panting. He let go of her wrist. "I just came to say hi."

She blinked. "Okay. . . ?"

Seeing the discomfort in her eyes, Jin-woo quickly made his next move. "You're Cha Hae-in, right? The celebrity athlete."

"Yeah. . . I am."

"I'm a big fan of you. And— I apologize for catching up on you like this."

"No, it's fine. You seem nice." Hae-in smiled.

Jin-woo's heart swelled. He ducked his head bashfully as if he was a little kid meeting a girl for the first time. Hearing her voice again was like listening to music — his favorite music; the way she warmed up to him after knowing his intentions showed how kind and approachable she actually was.

"May I know your name is?"

Butterflies swarmed and his eyes lit up. "Sung Jin-woo."

And that was the beginning of another love story.