#on things you've long taken for granted

[lowkeyerror]

Key to Your Flat

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: 4.9k

Notes: Fluff, a bit of angst, pining, lots of acts of service, friends to lovers, au no powers

Summary: Wanda ends her long term relationship with Jarvis after realizing she was a lesbian. You've been her best friend since college, it's only right for you to support her in any way you can.

An: So this was supposed to be a cute little 1-2k fic loosely based on the Doja Cat snippet that says "Does a key to your flat mean girlfriend?" But it has turned into something else lol.

Masterlist | Masterlist 2

From the first day that you met her, you knew that Wanda would be one of the most successful people that you had ever encountered. There was no one more determined to make something of themselves than her. It was more than hard work; it was the way she sacrificed for the things that she wanted to accomplish in life.

You admired her.

How could you not, especially with the lack of direction you had in your own life? When you became her roommate in your sophomore year in college, you were already on your 3rd major. From engineering, to English, to culinary arts; you were all over the place. Yet you didn’t care much about it figuring things would work out somehow.

You believed that the universe would grant you whatever fate you deserved. Until Wanda told you that was such a ridiculous notion. Who would wait for a handout from the universe when they could simply get what they wanted themselves?

She was a good influence on you. You started taking school and your future a little more seriously after that. You put a lot more stock into your culinary dreams, and they paid off. There was a beaming fulfillment in your chest when you opened your own restaurant. Something that probably wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t met Wanda.

While you can’t necessarily recall what Wanda does off of the top of your head. You know she’s got some long fancy title at some big industry company. She had taken an internship in college and because of how completely undeniable the woman was, she shot up in the ranks of the company within a 10-year period.

You were both busy people, but you never loss touch as you climb your respective ladders of success. It was second nature for you to keep in contact with Wanda. It’s not something you thought about as much as something that you did.

Other aspects of your life often slipped through your fingers. You weren’t proud to say you’d forgotten a birthday or two or missed family plans because of work. Even your dating life suffered immensely because of your hectic lifestyle.

You never understood just how Wanda could manage to create enough balance in her life to find someone like Jarvis. He was a good man, clean cut. A little more uptight than you’d thought Wanda would go for, but a charmer, nonetheless.

You remember being skeptical when you first met him. You were the first person that he’d met from Wanda’s life. It was an accident when you ran into him on the way out of Wanda’s flat. He was about to knock when you were exiting. The red head was a little embarrassed to explain as you stared at the tall blonde man. You looked between the two before you shook his hand and sent him a decent enough smile.

She had chased after you when you left, trying to explain herself, but there was nothing to explain. You congratulated her, said you were happy she found someone. She thought you’d be upset with her, but you weren’t. How could you be upset when she was happy?

You had assumed that they had a perfect relationship. That’s how it seemed when you saw them interact with each other. His hand on her waist, her eyes shining into his. They’d seem to complement each other like the ocean compliments the beach.

Which is why you were confused when Wanda called you in the middle of your shift at work. She hardly ever called, finding texting much more reliable. However, you picked up the phone on the first ring.

“Hey, I know you’re probably working right now but is there any way you can pick me up.”

It sounded like she had been crying.

You were taking your apron off as you spoke into the phone, “Always, just send me your location and I’ll be on my way.”

You hear the relieved sigh she lets out, “Thank you.”

You informed your staff of your departure and headed to your car.  Wanda sent her location, and you put it into your GPS, before driving off. She was closer than you had expected so getting to her was nothing.

She was at a park in the middle of the city. The day was cloudy, and the sun was preparing to set. It was a very grey day to be outdoors.

Once you were out of your car you scanned around for your friend. You found her almost instantly. She was sitting on a bench, her head in her hands.

You’d seen her stressed before, but this felt bigger than that. Her voice on the phone made that very evident to you.

You approached her cautiously and when you got close enough you called her name, “Wanda.”

Her head shot up when she heard you. She was off the bench and in your arms before you had time to react. Her arms were tightly wound around you. It caught you off guard and all you could do was stare down at her for a moment.

Soon you were holding her back just as tight. Your hand cradled the back of her hair, finger tenderly rubbing her scalp.

“What happened?” Your voice is soft when you ask, not trying to provoke her any more than she already is.

It takes her a minute to pull away enough to answer you, but eventually she does, “Jarvis, he proposed.”

Your eyes widen, “These don’t look like happy tears.”

“I was trying to break up with him,” she lets out a deep sigh. “I called him to talk in person, and then I tell him that I think we should break up. He gets on one knee and starts talking, and I- I just…”

“Oh Wands,” you pull her back into your embrace.

You readjust so that you have one arm over her shoulder. She doesn’t protest as you lead her to your car. She climbs in the passenger seat no questions asked as you pull off.

When you arrived at your destination she finally speaks up, “What’re we doing here?”

“Getting takeout,” you answered quickly getting out of the car. “You sit tight.”

You’re in and out of the Chinese food spot with a hefty bad of boxes in tow. When you re-enter the car with the food Wanda sends you a small smile.

“Did you-”

“Of course, I got our favorite and I asked for extra sweet and sour too. I was going to drive to yours, maybe we could eat and indulge in some sitcoms or talk, whatever you want. How does that sound?”

Your eyes raked over her features. She gave you a few small nods, “Sounds better than having an existential breakdown at the park.”

“Well, I guess it’s settled then,” you chuckled a little.

You drove to her house, glancing over at her every few minutes. Her head rested on the window and her eyes were closed, but you knee she wasn’t sleeping. Wanda often closed her eyes when she was trying to ground herself. It was something you had picked on back in college. You never knew where she went in her head, but it always seemed to help her refocus.

When you got to her flat. You handled the food and handled the tv, shooing Wanda away to put on some more comfortable clothes. When she came back in her sweatpants and robe the two of you ate as you watched I Dream of Jeannie.

It took about 2 episodes before she said anything to you.

“You’re not going to ask why I wanted to break up with him?”

You leaned back into the couch, “I’m curious, but it didn’t really seem like something I should be asking right now.”

She searched your eyes for something. If you had to guess, you say for security. She needed to know that start she said next was ok to tell you. In truth there was nothing she could say that would deter you from being there for her.

“I think I like women,” she said as she looked into her lap. There were more tears brewing behind her eyes, “Only women.”

There was no hesitation as you moved closer to her. Your thigh rested against hers, prompting her to meet your gaze.

“That’s not a bad thing Wanda.”

She shakes her head, “It is especially when you have a long-term boyfriend who loves you with everything that he has. You keep wondering when you’re going to love him the way he loves you. When will you stop hating the way he touches you? When will you be able to look at him, the way he looks at you. By the time you realize it can’t be him, it will never be a him… it’s too late. He shows you a ring while you’re trying to break up with him.”

You grab her hand, “You need to be kinder to yourself. This isn’t something you chose to do Wanda. It’s not like you knew the whole time. It sounds like you’re just coming to terms with your sexuality. You did the right thing by breaking up with him.”

“But-"

“Let me finish. If I’m being honest, getting on one knee and proposing to someone after they tried to break up with you sounds like a manipulation tactic.”

She ran her free hand through her hair, “Did you think we were a good couple? Jarvis and I.”

You thought about the question briefly, “I think it looked like you were the perfect couple, but sometimes I didn’t understand it. You’re both so different, not that it was a bad thing. I just… I’ve seen you soar to unimaginable heights. I’ve seen your ambitions become your reality. I just didn’t see that in him. You’re always striving to be the best, to improve. I always thought you’d want someone to do the same with you or someone who was okay with you doing that. It just seemed like all of that went over his head.”

“He was a very traditional man. He always talked about settling down in the future, with firm roots, and kids. He talked about me retiring and letting him take care of me. It was just- not what I wanted.”

“And that’s ok, people break up all the time Wanda. It’s a normal part of life. Yes, it sucks, but it's just a breakup. Think of it as one step closer to finding your person.”

She nods slightly, “When did you get so good at this?”

You smile at her, “I’m not good at this. I’m just good with you. That's what nearly a decade of friendship does to someone.”

She didn’t say anything else. Instead, she rested her head on your shoulder and turned her attention back to the tv. You wrapped your arm around her shoulder, pulling her firmly into you.

Wanda would get through this, just like she got through everything else. You’d make sure of it, because she'd do the same for you.

In the coming months, you found yourself carving out more time for Wanda. The busy nature of your schedule died down significantly when you started to entrust the general manager of your restaurant with some more responsibility. It made your workload lighter while allowing your GM to get some more experience.

You used the new free time to support her the best way you could. Sometimes that meant bringing her lunch when she was working. Other times it was coming over after to make sure the woman wasn’t neglecting her home. You’d go over and check if she had groceries or that she wasn’t letting the flat get too dirty.  She was the kind of woman that threw herself into work when she was trying to avoid something.

You’d even gone as far as helping her set up a dating profile when she was ready to put herself back out there.

“How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

You were once again in her flat. She stood in the kitchen, while you sat on a chair stationed at the island in the middle of the same room.

“Date women,” she was asking sincerely, but you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing.

“Well, I don’t really date, but it’s the same as any date. You’re trying to present your best self, get a good foot forward, but while maintaining an authenticity. It’s not like a job interview where only one person is doing the hiring; you both have a say in how it turns out.”

Wanda narrows her eyes, “Why don’t you date?”

You shrug, “Too busy running a very successful restaurant.”

“You’re not as busy as you used to be. Maybe you should set up a profile for yourself. I’m sure any girl would be lucky to have you.”

You shook your head, “Hard pass, but I appreciate the effort.”

“Come on, Y/nn. I know accomplishments can feel empty when you don’t have anyone to share them with,” she tried to persuade you.

“Well good thing I can share it with you then,” you countered.

She let out an irritated sigh, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You smirk, “Why do you want me to sign up so badly anyway? You think we’re going to match?”

You were only joking, yet you can’t help but notice the slight color on your friend’s cheeks.

She scoffed like you expected her to, “Grow up.”

For a moment it feels like you’re back in your college dorm. The playful and flirty banter was always present between the two of you. It was easy for you to flirt with her, knowing you never really had a chance. However, now that there was even the slightest of possibility that this could escalate, it felt completely different.

“It’s alright Wanda, nothing to be ashamed of. I’m hot, successful, hardworking, and financially responsible. Hard to ignore the total package.”

She rolled her eyes, “I remember when Ms. ‘Total Package’ couldn’t even finish her college assignments without my help.”

You chuckle when you catch her eyes, “You’ve got me there. If it wasn’t for you, I have no idea where’d I be.”

“Probably still in college on your 95th major change,” she laughed at her own joke.

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, “Very funny.”

 With a smile plastered on her face she strolled over to sit next to you. She spun on the barstool before grabbing your arms and looking into your eyes, “I have something for you actually.”

“What is it?”

She reached into her pocket and sat a key down on the island. You looked at her then the key with slight confusion.

“A key?”

Wanda nods, “You’re basically here all the time and I’m getting tired of opening the door for you.”

“I’m using this key to come over and cook in this beautiful kitchen, you hardly use.”

“Hey, I cook,” she defended.

You laugh, “I said hardly, didn’t I?”

When you got home that night, you felt a new weight on your shoulders. Your hand slipped into your pocket to pull out the key. You held it flat in your palm. The small piece of metal was cool against your skin. You stared at it for a long while.

It was just a key. There wasn't anything crazy about it. Your friend gave you a key to her house. Friends do that with each other. Your heart shouldn’t have been fluttering the way it was over such a simple gesture.

You closed your hand around the key trying to ground yourself. Your eyes shut, but as soon as they did her smile etched its way into your sight.

“Shit.”

It was like college all over again. You thought you had gotten over your crush on Wanda many years ago. She was straight, it was never going to happen. That was something you could deal with, something you could work through. However now, that wasn’t the case anymore. Wanda liked women, technically you had a chance.

You shouldn't be thinking like that. She needs you now, to be her friend. You were doing so well. Taking care of her had become an unconscious pattern as easy as breathing. You never thought about it too hard when she needed you. It’s like the moment she put the key in your hand, your mind finally started thinking.

Subconsciously you’d always known it. It’s why you didn't date. It was unfair to be with someone who’d never be able to prioritize over Wanda. She was one of the few people in your life that you’d drop everything for.

Sure, you were a busy woman, but you’d never be too busy for her. Her distress over Jarvis literally made you change the way you worked, just to make sure you were there when she needed you.

“Why would I make her a dating profile?” You asked yourself as you face-planted on to your mattress.

Just as you expected Wanda’s profile was gaining some traction. There were a lot of women interested in someone like her. Soon she was going on more dates than you had been on in years. Most of them weren’t serious, she often said she wouldn’t be seeing them again.

While you were sad that she wasn’t finding anyone suitable you were also happy for the same reason. You thought you’d attempt to cheer up her up after so many bad dates by cooking one of her favorite dishes from home.

You made a day of finding the freshest ingredients. You drove out to find markets that had authentic food from her home country. There wasn’t a lot locally, but you didn’t mind the hunt.

Once you had everything you needed you made your way over to Wanda’s. It was a struggle carrying everything up, but you managed with a little bit of a struggle.

While you were still conflicted about having a key to her flat, you still used it plenty of times. So just like you had done previously you let yourself into Wanda’s home.

“Oh, fuck sorry,” you said as you immediately saw Wanda straddling the lap of an older (an admittedly super attractive) woman on her living room couch.

Wanda looked like a deer in headlights. You were trying to comprehend if you were more mortified or heartbroken. No one spoke for a long while until the older woman cleared her throat.

“Right, uh I’ll just come back tomorrow or something. Enjoy your night, Wanda.”

With the groceries still in your hand, you turned around and closed the door. You only made it down a few steps before you heard someone calling after you.

“Y/n, wait!”

You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath trying to mask your feelings before you turned around.

“This stuff is a little heavy Wanda; I want to get it back to the car before the bags break.”

She took a few bags from your hands, “Let me help you.”

“You don’t have to; you looked pretty busy in there. Here I was, bringing stuff to cook for you in light of all your failed dates, but it seems like you’re not doing nearly as bad as I thought,” you tried to joke with her.

“Agatha is definitely the best of the dates I've had so far.”

You had to keep yourself from wincing, “Glad to hear it.”

Wanda helped you load the stuff back into the car.

“I’m really sorry about this. If I would’ve known you were coming-"

You shook your head, “It’s fine Wanda, go back to making out with a hot older woman. They don't like to wait for too long. I’ll just text you next time instead of just barging in.”

“I have you a key because you’re always welcome.”

You unhook the key from your key ring and hand it back to her, “I know that, but maybe it’s best if you let me in.”

“Y/n,” she looked at you with confusion.

You smile through the pain, “If you’re going to have women over, it’s not a good look for another woman to be coming in and out of your house whenever. We’re not related and we’re not roommates. There’s not really a reason for me to have access to you like that.”

“I don’t understand,” she looked between you and the key that was now in her hand.

“Usually, a key to your flat would mean I’m your girlfriend. Me coming over to cook for you as another woman who likes women is bad for your stock. It just doesn't feel like something that's easily explained. I would have a bunch of questions if I was in Agatha’s position, especially since you haven't gone back yet,” you hop into your car.

There was a conflicted look on her face, “You’ll stop by tomorrow?”

“I’ve got work, but I'll try to stop by after,” you told her that even though you knew you wouldn't be coming back tomorrow.

“I’ll see later then?” She was searching for something as she surveyed your features.

With what little control you had left, you tried to give her what she was looking for, “Definitely. Now forget about this and go back to your date.”

She looked like she wanted to say more, but with a small glance back at her flat, she walked away. You drove home.

The groceries felt eternally heavier when you were bringing them into your house. You wondered how carrying them upstairs to Wanda’s was even possible.

You hurriedly put the food away, showered, and then got in the bed. When your head hits the pillow, you let out a deep sigh. Your jaw started to tremble on its own.

You let out a bitter laugh as the tears fell down your face. You didn’t bother to wipe them away.  It felt like a part of you was ripped out of your chest.

This was bound to happen eventually. Wanda would move on from Jarvis and your silly fantasy would be crushed. You felt silly crying over a woman that was never yours.

Yet another part of you was screaming at you for feeling silly. You were doing a lot for Wanda. Even if it was all just friendly, sometimes it felt like more. All the dinners, all the cuddling on the couch, all the late-night talks. She was your better half, but she wasn’t your girl. She’d never be your girl.

It was something you had to accept. You didn’t go to work the next day. You rotted in your bed, not having the energy to get up. Scrolling on your phone was the only thing you wanted to do.

Wanda had texted you a few times, but you ignored the messages. Even the thought of her just made your entire chest burn.

You finally got out of bed when you had to pee. You took the opportunity to brush your teeth as well. On the way back to the bed your doorbell started to ring. Not just once either. Whoever was at the door pressed the button over and over again. It was impossible to ignore.

So, with your bed head, red eyes, and mismatched pajamas you yanked the front door open, “Look, I don’t know what you want but could you just go away and try again tomorrow or something.”

“Tomorrow’s not going to work for me.”

Your head shot up and you felt face heat. Wanda was standing at your front door with her arms crossed over her chest with an eyebrow raised.

“What’re you doing here?”

Your voice had a softness to it that you reserved for the red head in front of you.

She didn’t answer your question. Instead, she let herself into your home. You closed the door behind her. You followed her to your living room. She sat on your couch while you took a seat on a chair diagonal to it.

“I thought you had work today,” she says.

“I decided not to go.”

“I’ve been texting you.”

You shrugged, “Haven’t been on it sorry.”

Wanda stared at you, “I went to your restaurant looking for you.”

You were looking into your lap, “I’m sorry Wanda.”

She got up from the couch to come completely into your line of sight. She kneeled down in front of you, her hands resting on your knees.

“What’s going on with Y/nn?”

The concern in her voice broke you out of your trance. You tried your hardest to feign that you were alright.

“I’m fine. Since you’re here why don't you let me cook something for us?”

You stood from the chair quickly pushing down the rest of your emotions. She watched as you walked over to the kitchen pulling out some of the ingredients you had bought the day before.

“This is for paprikash,” Wanda watched as you began to prepare.

You nod, “Yeah, I got stuff for chicken paprikash, alivenci, and cholent too. The plan was to cook the paprikash and then the alivenci for dessert. I was going to set up the cholent for you before I left so you could have it fresh the next day because it’s got to cook for like 17 hours.”

“You got all of this for me?”

You answered her while chopping up the vegetables, “It was nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. You’re using Hungarian bell peppers, where did you even get those?”

You smiled a bit, “I do own a restaurant, Wanda. If there’s anything I’m an expert in, it’s food. I wanted it to be authentic as possible.”

As you began cooking you felt the weight of the situation lift off of your shoulders. Cooking had always been a stress reliever for you, and it wasn’t any different now. You could feel Wanda’s eyes on you, but you never looked away from the meal.

Only when the chicken was simmering in the pot did she attempt to grab your attention.

“After you came by yesterday, I asked Agatha to leave,” Wanda broke the silence.

You finally look at her, “Why would you do something like that?”

She simply placed a key on the counter, “I couldn't stop thinking about you giving me this key back.”

“Wanda,” you tried to stop her, but she cut you off.

“No, I need you to listen. When you put this key in my hand, it felt like you had handed me a live grenade. I didn’t understand why. It wasn’t until I went back inside, and Agatha asked me how we knew each other that it clicked. You’re my everything.”

“What are you saying?”

She hesitated, “I’m saying I’ve already found my person.”

“Wanda, you’re my best friend.”

She invaded your personal space, grabbing you gently by the wrist, “And you’re mine, but it’s more than that isn’t it? You’re the person I can rely on for anything at any time. You’re the woman that left her restaurant to put me back together when my ex left. You listened to me, you held me, you cooked for me, made sure I had groceries, and that my house was clean. Friends don't do as much as you've done for me.”

You slowly lifted your gaze to meet her’s, “I just know you appreciate acts of service.”

“Y/n if you don’t want this I’ll leave and we can pretend it never happened; but if you do want this, want me, I’m right here laying it all out for you.”

You drop your gaze again, “I cried myself to sleep last night. I thought I'd lost my chance. When I saw you on top of Agatha, something broke inside of me Wanda.  Back in college I had a crush on, but I thought you were straight, so it was easy to keep it down. When you came out to me, it was like I was at square one all over again.”

Wanda shook her head, “It’s not square one because here I am telling you that I’m in love with you. Please give us a chance Y/n.”

You wished the moment was more glamorous as you kissed the woman in front of you. You hadn’t denied her yet and you never planned to. Her hands locked behind your neck while yours rested on her waist.

Your breath was shaky when the kiss ended. Neither of you moved.

“I love you too,” you pecked her lips again.

Wanda blushed, but you were more focused on the way she looked at you. Her eyes were full of nothing but tenderness.

“Would you take the key back?”

You raised your eyebrow, “Why does it feel like you’re asking me for something else?”

She feigned innocence, “I’m not. Unless you think that what you said yesterday about keys is true.”

“Remind me what I said again?”

Her fingers played with the hairs at the base of your neck, “A key to my flat means girlfriend.”

You pretended to think about it, “Girlfriend?”

She nodded, “Girlfriend.”

“I guess I’ll have to get you a key too then,” you said softly.

This time Wanda leaned in for a kiss. It was supposed to be a peck, but you both got lost in that moment. Neither willingly to part with the other just yet. Lips fitting together to create a soft lullaby of security.

You never thought you’d be lucky enough to have Wanda in this way. She was your best friend, your person, and now your girlfriend. It may have taken years, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. Wanda cherished you just as much. She felt like an idiot for not realizing her feelings sooner, but she was just happy to call you, her girl.

And one day, she would be ecstatic to call you, her wife.

[arxiwon]

Not Yours to Keep 𓍯𓂃

Pairing: Jake Sim x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fake Dating, Jealousy, Slow Burn, Happy Ending

Warnings: Emotional turmoil, jealousy, misunderstandings, mild language, eventual fluff

Synopsis:

Jake Sim has only ever had eyes for his ex. When he asks you to be his fake girlfriend to make her jealous, you agree, hiding the fact that you've loved him since childhood. You tell yourself it’s temporary, just a favor for an old friend—but deep down, you’re selfishly happy, even if it’s all pretend. When Jake’s ex finally wants him back, you convince yourself you never had a chance to begin with. But when you start smiling because of someone else, Jake realizes the one thing he wanted was right in front of him all along.

Jake never saw it coming. Maybe that was the worst part.

It started with a favor—just a simple pretend to be my girlfriend for a while favor. He had asked you so casually, so effortlessly, as if the idea of being with you, even in a fake way, meant nothing. And maybe to him, it didn’t. But to you? It meant everything.

You had loved Jake Sim since you were kids. You had hidden it well, buried it under layers of forced indifference, masking every stolen glance, every skipped heartbeat, with playful banter and eye-rolls. But when he asked—when he looked at you with those desperate, hopeful eyes—you found yourself saying yes before your brain could catch up.

Just for a little while. That’s what you told yourself.

But “a little while” was long enough for you to get used to the weight of his arm around your shoulders, the way he leaned in close when he laughed, the warmth of his fingers lacing through yours at parties just to put on a show. And even though you knew it wasn’t real, even though you saw the way he still looked at her—his ex, the one who had left but never really let him go—you let yourself pretend.

Until, finally, she noticed.

It was at a party, one you hadn’t even wanted to go to. Jake was being extra that night—hands lingering on your waist, lips brushing your ear as he whispered things that made your heart race even though they weren’t meant for you. And then she appeared, just like clockwork. Eyes trailing over the scene, lips pressing together in something that wasn’t quite a smile.

Jake stiffened. You felt it, the way his entire body seemed to react to her presence.

And just like that, you knew.

The game was over.

You should have walked away right then. Should have let go before it got worse. But Jake made it impossible. Because he still looked at you like you mattered, still held your hand absentmindedly, still called you at night like he needed you. And maybe, for a little while, he did.

But in the end, he chose her.

Of course, he did.

You told yourself it didn’t hurt. That it didn’t wreck you to see them together again. But the second you were alone, the weight of everything crashed down.

You were just a placeholder. A distraction.

Jake never looked back.

And so, you did what you had to do—you moved forward.

You started smiling again, laughing at stupid jokes that weren’t his, standing a little closer to someone who actually saw you. And that’s when it happened.

Jake saw you. Really saw you. And for the first time, it wasn’t him making you smile.

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut.

You weren’t his anymore. You never really were. But now? Now, someone else had your attention, your laughter, your time—things he had always taken for granted. And fuck, it didn’t sit right with him.

He didn’t understand it at first. The bitterness, the tightness in his chest every time he saw you with him. The way his fists clenched when he overheard your name being said in someone else’s mouth. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

But it did.

And suddenly, Jake wasn’t so sure if he had lost his fake girlfriend.

Or if he had lost the only real thing he had ever had.

Jake never thought it would get to this point.

He never thought seeing you with someone else would wreck him like this.

At first, he tried to ignore it. Shrug it off like it was nothing—like it didn’t feel like something sharp twisting inside his chest whenever he caught you laughing with that guy. He told himself he was just being protective, that it was normal to feel a little weird about it. After all, you had been his for a while, even if it was just pretend.

But that excuse didn’t hold up when he saw the way you looked at him.

Because it wasn’t the way you used to look at Jake anymore.

It wasn’t playful or teasing. It wasn’t forced or practiced. It was real.

And that’s when it fucking hit him.

You weren’t his placeholder anymore. You weren’t even waiting for him.

You had moved on.

And it was all his fault.

It started eating away at him. Little things that never used to matter suddenly became unbearable. Like the way you used to sit next to him without thinking about it, and now you chose a different seat across the room. The way you used to lean into his touch instinctively, but now you barely even looked at him.

Fuck, even your voice was different when you spoke to him.

Distant. Guarded.

Like he wasn’t Jake—your Jake—anymore.

The final straw was when he saw the other guy—that guy—drop you off after class, his hand lingering on your back just a second too long, his eyes filled with something Jake recognized all too well.

Because once upon a time, he looked at you the same way.

Jake didn’t even think. He just moved.

Before he knew it, he had grabbed your wrist, pulling you away from the guy without so much as a glance in his direction.

“Jake, what the hell?” you snapped, trying to shake him off.

But his grip only tightened.

“We need to talk,” he muttered, his voice low, tense.

You scoffed. “Oh, now you wanna talk?”

Jake ignored the bite in your words, pulling you into a quieter hallway where no one could see the way his hands were shaking.

You yanked your arm away, glaring up at him. “What’s your problem?”

Jake opened his mouth. Closed it again.

Because he didn’t even know what to say. He didn’t have the right words for this—for the jealousy that burned in his veins, for the frustration of knowing he had done this to himself.

For the fear that maybe—just maybe—it was too late.

So instead, he blurted out the one thing he knew to be true.

“I don’t like it.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I don’t like seeing you with him.”

You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. “That’s rich coming from you.”

Jake swallowed hard. “I mean it.”

“Yeah? And what do you expect me to do about that, Jake?” you snapped, arms crossing over your chest. “Drop everything? Wait around for you to figure out what you want—again?”

Guilt surged through him.

Because fuck, you were right.

“I didn’t—” He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

You flinched, just barely. “Well, you did.”

Jake felt his stomach drop.

You were done. He could see it in your eyes.

You weren’t going to wait for him anymore.

Desperation clawed at his throat. “Then let me fix it.”

You let out a breathy laugh, but it sounded more like a sob. “You can’t just fix this, Jake.”

He took a step closer. “Why not?”

You stared at him for a long moment. “Because I don’t trust you.”

It hit him like a punch to the gut.

You always trusted him. Even when you shouldn’t have. Even when he didn’t deserve it.

But not anymore.

And maybe that was what scared him the most.

Jake’s voice was hoarse when he spoke. “I was an idiot.”

You didn’t deny it.

“I thought she was what I wanted,” he admitted, his hands clenching into fists. “I thought she was the one. And I didn’t even—” He inhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I didn’t even realize I already had what I was looking for.”

Silence.

The kind that made his heart hammer against his ribs.

Then—

“You don’t get to say that now.”

Jake swallowed. “I know.”

But fuck, he was saying it anyway.

Because he meant it.

And maybe, just maybe—

He wasn’t too late after all.

Jake thought getting you back would be easy.

He thought once he confessed—once he laid everything bare—you’d fall into his arms the way you used to, let him hold you the way he ached to.

But reality hit harder than he expected.

Because you didn’t trust him anymore.

And that broke him more than anything else.

Now, he stood there, watching you laugh with that guy—that fucking guy—again, and it made his blood boil. But he couldn't say anything. Not when he was the one who pushed you away in the first place.

All he could do was wait.

Wait for you to look at him the way you used to.

Wait for you to realize that no one else could love you the way he did.

Wait for you to come back to him.

But fuck, it was harder than he thought.

Especially when his ex was still around.

“Jake,” she whined, linking her arm with his like she still had some kind of claim over him. “Are you even listening to me?”

Jake barely glanced at her, his eyes still trained on you.

You were different now. More guarded. Stronger.

And the worst part?

You looked happier without him.

“Jake,” his ex pressed, tugging on his sleeve. “Let’s go out. Just the two of us, like old times.”

He turned to her then, expression blank. “We were never like that.”

She blinked. “What?”

Jake sighed, pulling his arm away. “We were never just the two of us. You always needed attention from someone else.”

Her face twisted in irritation. “Oh, so now you care about loyalty?”

Jake clenched his jaw. “I always cared.”

Just not about you.

His ex scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Whatever. You’ll come crawling back eventually.”

Jake didn't even bother responding.

His eyes had already found you again.

Because no matter what she said, the truth was clear.

The only person he was waiting for was you.

And no matter how long it took, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Jake didn’t know when waiting turned into suffering.

At first, he told himself it was fine—he deserved this, deserved to feel the weight of his mistakes pressing down on him. He watched from the sidelines as you laughed with someone else, as you let another guy into the space that once belonged to him.

And it fucking hurt.

But what hurt more was that he couldn’t blame you.

Because he had been the one to break you. To toss you aside when he thought he had everything he wanted. And by the time he realized you were the only thing he wanted, it was too late.

You were slipping through his fingers, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

So he waited.

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months.

And still, Jake waited.

He watched you. Not in an overbearing way, but in the way someone watches the only thing that matters to them, hoping—praying—that maybe, just maybe, you’d look at him the way you used to.

But you never did.

Not once.

At least, not until that night.

It was late when he found you alone.

The guy who had been making you smile lately had just dropped you off, and Jake had been watching from his car, gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.

He wasn’t proud of the way jealousy consumed him.

Wasn’t proud of the way he got out of his car and followed you up to your door, the words already burning on his tongue before he could stop himself.

“You really like him, don’t you?”

You jumped, spinning around with wide eyes. “Jake?”

Jake swallowed hard. “Do you?”

You sighed, pressing your back against the door. “Why do you care?”

He let out a humorless chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Yes,” you snapped, and for the first time in months, he saw it.

That fire. That spark in your eyes that only ever appeared when you were talking to him.

Jake took a step closer. “Because I love you.”

Your breath hitched.

Jake didn’t miss the way your fingers twitched like you wanted to reach for him but refused to let yourself.

“You don’t,” you whispered. “You only want me now because you can’t have me.”

Jake shook his head. “That’s not true.”

You laughed, but it was bitter. “It is. You had me, Jake. I loved you for years. But I was never enough, was I?”

Jake’s chest tightened. “That’s not fair.”

“Oh, now you care about fair?”

Jake inhaled sharply. “I made a mistake.”

You scoffed. “Yeah? Well, maybe I don’t want to be your second choice.”

“You were never my second choice,” Jake said, voice firm.

You blinked. “Then why?”

Jake swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Because I was a fucking idiot.”

Silence.

Then—

“You still are.”

Jake exhaled a short laugh. “I know.”

You stared at him for a long moment before shaking your head. “I can’t do this.”

Jake’s heart stopped. “Wait.”

Your fingers tightened around your doorknob. “Jake—”

“I’ll wait.” His voice was desperate now. “For as long as it takes. Just tell me there’s still a chance.”

Your expression wavered. “Jake…”

“Please.”

His voice cracked.

And that was what broke you.

Your walls crumbled, your shoulders sagged, and for the first time in months, you let yourself feel.

“I hate you,” you whispered, but it didn’t sound convincing.

Jake stepped closer. “I know.”

“I should walk inside.”

“You should.”

You didn’t move.

Neither did he.

Then, before either of you could stop it—

You were kissing him.

It was desperate, angry, messy—months of heartbreak and longing and unresolved tension colliding all at once.

Jake groaned against your lips, hands gripping your waist like he was afraid you’d disappear again.

“You love me,” he murmured between kisses.

You bit his lip. “Shut up.”

Jake smirked. “You do.”

You tugged at his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer. “Jake, if you don’t shut up, I’m—”

“I love you,” he interrupted. “I love you, and I’m never letting you go again.”

You exhaled shakily. “You better not.”

And just like that, you were his again.

And this time—

He wasn’t going to lose you.

[writerpeach]

Ambrosial: Part One

IVE Jang Wonyoung x m!reader

16k words

Part four of the Annyeongz (soon to be titled) series

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

---

Read on AO3

24 unread messages

where the fuck are you? wake up already

You don’t ask for much. 

Without a doubt, you’ve been living life to the fullest, in the most luxurious apartment on campus, maybe in the city. Fully furnished, several floors above anyone else, it’s equipped with everything one could need, including a pool and gym, plenty of rooms, plenty of space, plenty of comfort. 

From the expensive decor to the extravagant clothes, the priceless jewelry and fancy cars, this place resembles more a palace than a simple living space. You wonder how you got caught up living in this reality—just you, Wonyoung, and her best friend and mutual roommate, Yujin. 

Roommates doesn’t exactly seem the right word, considering how blurred these lines have gotten, where you've woken up in a mess of naked bodies and tangled limbs, not even remembering whose bed you've fallen asleep in.

Despite all that, you never need to ask for anything—ever. They've taken care of your needs, both financially and in other ways, without ever having to vocalize them, something you’re eternally grateful for. And yet, the one thing you crave most, a nice, peaceful morning to sleep in—you’re almost never granted. 

Every time your head hits the pillow, your phone buzzes. Another text, another voicemail. One more thing hindering your return to dreamland. Leaving it on silent just delays the problem—you know it’ll keep ringing regardless, because the name attached to these annoyances, it’s none other than Jang Wonyoung, and she’ll do whatever it takes to get your attention. 

Her persistence is unrivaled, unmatched, unrelenting. She never rests, not until she’ll get what she wants. Which also means you don’t rest until then. 

You’re tempted to just ditch your phone, open up a window and toss it outside, easily forgetting it exists. The apartment is on the top floor, and it’s a long way down—and yet, you’re not prepared to deal with the consequences that’ll come from that. If only it were so simple. If only you had personally bought this phone instead of it being gifted to you during Christmas by the two of them, after it had been sold out for months—

So with much reluctance, you swallow your pride and kick the sheets off, until your feet touch the cold floor, signaling the start of the day. 

Now, instead of making breakfast for Yujin or sitting down to a nice cup of coffee, you’re walking through foot-high snow, freezing your ass off on a trek through campus when you don’t even have any classes at all this morning. All before the time your alarm usually goes off. That’s your fault, you suppose, for ignoring all her voicemails and responding only to her latest text, the one with an obscene amount of exclamation marks. 

The walk, in hindsight, isn’t too far—ten minutes at the most. But now that you’re meeting Wonyoung for whatever ungodly reason so early, every snow-covered step takes twice as long, feeling like you’re walking in cement. 

But hey, maybe this’ll be worth your while, finding out why the hell it’s so urgent to be driven out of bed at whatever-the-fuck hour this is in the morning. And maybe, just maybe, Wonyoung has a fresh hot cup of coffee and breakfast as your consolation prize (spoiler alert, she doesn’t).

Luckily for you, once the student center comes into view, so does Wonyoung. It’s always so easy to pick her out of a crowd in that ridiculously large coat, and those fuzzy boots that are anything but practical (it can’t be considered Wonyoung if it’s not form over function). This girl’s a head-turner for sure, and even in the freezing cold still manages to look like a model fresh off the Paris runway. 

Wonyoung's attention snaps off her phone when she notices your arrival, turning her head in your general direction. There’s a blank expression on her face when she approaches with her arms folded, icy breath visible with each exhale, and you can see that deadly glare even through her designer shades. “Took you long enough.” 

"Kept the princess waiting, huh? Didn't realize," you reply, unapologetically sarcastic in tone as possible, hands deep in your pockets for warmth. Even with those expensive sunglasses on, it isn’t hard to imagine the eye roll you’re getting underneath. “It's fucking cold, not exactly easy to speed through the snow.” 

"Should have dressed warmer if you're cold then," Wonyoung dares to suggest as she snatches up your wrist, her gloved fingers so warm in comparison. "Get over here, dummy."

Wonyoung closes the distance without a moment's hesitation, planting a soft, heartfelt kiss on your lips, the warmth of her mouth alone a better heat source than any coat could hope to match. She steals a few more kisses, taking no regard for your surroundings, before ultimately settling against your shoulder, not paying attention to any other people passing by the two of you.

"What's so important that you had to drag me out of bed for?" 

"Spending time with me isn't important enough? Not everyone gets to wake up and see this face every day—" Wonyoung says so shamelessly as she leads the way inside.

You’re dragged inside by this delicate little thing, who at the very moment has so much ridiculous strength, guiding you who knows where. Passing by the cafeteria is your first red flag, the fresh smell of coffee taunting you as she presses a button to call down the elevator. 

The steel doors shut, and before you have time to question anything, she's sealing your lips with a kiss again, this time with enough aggression to press you into the wall. After pulling away, Wonyoung’s sunglasses flip up and rest atop her head, followed by a devious, satisfied grin overtaking her lips.

“Not that I'm complaining—but you woke me up just to make out?” 

“Maybe. Hmph,” Wonyoung sighs, her hands reaching out to fix your scarf. “Yujin’s been keeping you all to herself lately.” 

You can’t tell if she’s genuinely jealous, or just looking for an excuse to steal you away—not like it makes any difference. Wonyoung isn’t usually keen on answering questions. She simply kisses you again, hoping to offer a distraction while the elevator slowly hums towards whatever floor is your destination. 

“Ugh, don’t make me say it.” 

“Say what?” 

The elevator chimes, but Wonyoung doesn’t give a hint of explanation when the doors slide open, taking your hand to bring you out onto the rooftop terrace. A burst of cool air comes through that sends a shiver through your body, and this beautiful, white landscape apparently is her top secret location, a secluded outdoor area with the most breathtaking view. 

Unsurprisingly, it’s empty—not a single person brave enough to be up here. A chilly breeze still passes through, even though the patio area is adequately covered. So with any luck, you’ll have the entire place to yourself, with all the privacy in the world to enjoy it, which is perfect when you have Wonyoung to warm up with. 

After dusting the snow off the nearest couch, Wonyoung beckons you to sit beside her, pulling you down to her level. But before you can take another breath, she’s already in your lap to make out with you again, both hands cupping your face, eager to claim what belongs to her. 

"I thought you hate the cold," you say, surprised that Wonyoung of all people came up here to a place like this willingly.

"Yeah, well—“ She pauses mid-sentence, removing her sunglasses off her head and tucking them into the inside pocket of her coat. “I like you more.” 

It’s cute—that even a bratty girl like Wonyoung can show vulnerability like this. 

A rare accomplishment for sure, that rosy pink hue warming her cheeks when she gets all flustered. Even more uncommon that she gets shy long enough to glance away, but once her gaze returns, the demure smile on her face could melt the snow that surrounds you. Wonyoung pockets her gloves as her long, slender fingers play with the collar of your sweater, leaning in for another kiss. 

It’s slow and methodical the way your lips press together, with neither one of you bold enough to be the first to deepen it. All you can think about is how soft these glossy lips are, and how sweet the taste of Wonyoung is that you’ll give anything to it savor forever while her fingers wander through your hair. 

But It doesn't take long for these innocent kisses to turn quickly into something much more heated, tongues slowly invading each other's mouths. The lingering sweetness of her lips pairs with dominance that you’ve eagerly given up, letting her dictate every movement, defenseless to do much more than melt when her teeth play with your bottom lip.

“Daddy…” 

It spills out so casually from Wonyoung's pretty lips, one simple word triggering something dangerous inside you that causes enough hesitation for you to get lost in her eyes. “Princess.” 

“Just missed you, I guess…” she confesses out of nowhere, all out of breath, her icy hands still cupped around your face. The shiver it sends through you isn’t from the frosty weather, or even that favorite little word she loves using. 

“You guess?” you ask, and let out a slight chuckle at the lack of sincerity, admiring how absolutely stunning this girl looks in your arms—those hypnotizing doe eyes, rosy cheeks, and parted lips all forming pieces to the most gorgeous picture.

Then there's that signature pout, potent as ever, on Wonyoung's face that shouldn't be allowed to be this irresistibly cute. 

“Say it back!” 

You can’t help but want to tease her further, leaving a gentle kiss on the corner of her lips, knowing full well Wonyoung's validation has no end to it. "Say what back?"

With a deepening pout and narrowed eyes, Wonyoung grasps your face in her hands, preventing you from averting from her softening gaze that’s becoming increasingly less threatening with each passing second. "Daddy—"

Those little whines that escape only widen your smile as she hits your chest with all the impact of a fallen snowflake, which only succeeds in getting her even more riled up. Admittedly, that isn’t hard to do. 

"Did I miss you?" The more you deny what she needs to hear, the more she crumbles, a total withdrawal from her usual demeanor. “I think the cold is getting to you. Don’t be so delusional to believe that I think about you for a moment, Jang Wonyoung.”

"Shut up," she scoffs, reverting to her usual bratty self, aggressively kissing you and tugging at your hair. "You're the one who walked through the snow just to kiss me."

With nothing to respond with, you let her win in silence—because she's absolutely right. 

Now you're stuck here with Wonyoung perched on your lap, sitting on a rooftop patio, all tangled up with her lips. You can’t help but admit you're hopelessly addicted to the taste of these kisses, the scent of her perfume, and how her eyes fixate on yours long enough that you’ll do anything she asks. And while she's busy kissing your  cheek, moving to trace the outline of your earlobe, you're just letting her explore wherever she pleases, removing your scarf so she has room to leave whatever marks she wants on your bare neck.

“Don’t worry, daddy. This’ll keep you warm instead,” she mutters, her voice so comforting right next to your ear. Her lips kiss into the crook of your neck, sucking and biting on the sensitive skin to leave her first mark—one that Yujin isn’t going to like. 

When she's done, there's another quick peck to the same spot, as if she's somehow fixing the damage caused by kissing it again. These little pecks that trail all across your jawline, they gradually get more needy by the second, in a way that you've not witnessed before, as if every kiss leaves Wonyoung even more desperate than the one before it. 

"Yujinnie is busy all day today with classes,” she says, and her voice dips so sweet and suggestive when she trails off, a hand sliding up to your chin to guide your mouth back to hers. "So that means daddy gets to play with me all day..."

You’re not sure if you should be excited, concerned, or a little bit of both, that Wonyoung has every intention of monopolizing you today. There seems to be no end to this make-out session, but you have nothing to complain about other than being a little cold and more than a little hungry—but that can be ignored when this outing has turned into a cute, unplanned little date.

“Princess,” you get out between the onslaught of kisses, but her persistent lips cling back to your neck, refusing to give up any affection. “I hate to stop kissing you, but if I don’t eat something…“

“Fine,” Wonyoung says, with the most audible sigh she can produce, climbing off your lap reluctantly to give your lips a much needed rest. “Let’s go get you some breakfast then—because daddy is going to need all his energy."

It’s gotten far too normalized for you to even react to Wonyoung mouthing off something like that. 

Once the two of you get back on your feet, you grab your scarf from the bench to wrap it back around your neck, but before you get too far, Wonyoung stops you from hiding the evidence. 

"Nuh-uh—no covering up my work." 

Her pretty, manicured hands snatch the scarf from you, looping it around her own neck and she smiles with pride at all the marks visible on your thoroughly kissed neck. "There, now everyone can see daddy's all mine."

Wonyoung giggles as she spins on her heels, grabbing your hand to lead the way back inside. When her fingers interlace with your own, she gives your hand a firm squeeze, doubling down on her claim as you take the elevator and head back down towards the dining hall. 

On your way inside, Wonyoung’s mere presence attracts enough attention to get a multitude of eyes watching, like she’s walking down the red carpet of a movie premiere instead of just strolling down the cafeteria’s extensive breakfast buffet. 

While you stay one step behind, you can’t help but feel you’re a trophy that Wonyoung proudly displays around, these fresh marks on your neck a badge of honor that backs up her claim.

All this extra attention leaves you a little self conscious, especially in front of a crowd that's mostly students you share the same classes with. On the contrary, Wonyoung's perfectly fine being stared at like this, the attention gained doing nothing but brightening her smile. It’s so easy for her to bask in it while she waits for you to catch up, turning around to plant a kiss on your cheek that’s going to draw even more stares. 

In front of all these eyes, Wonyoung so shamelessly has no trouble giving you all the affection she thinks you deserve, and you’re more than happy to receive it, regardless of the embarrassment that comes at your expense. 

Eventually, you end up in the checkout line, waiting in silence for Wonyoung to go through the process of paying. Her wallet is all glittery pink and so princess-like, pulling out her black card like it’s nothing, easily able to cover the bill for the entire dining room with no sweat. 

Now it's just a matter of finding a free table to sit at, which isn't easy. The morning rush is in full swing, which means most tables are packed to the brim with hungry students, or anyone looking for a place to study that isn’t the stuffy, equally overcrowded library. Luckily, Wonyoung spots a seat in the corner emptying out, almost as if they’ve left at her behest, and you follow behind to claim the precious real estate.

Wonyoung pulls her coat off and takes a seat, with her meal comprising an extra-large iced vanilla latte (that's mostly whipped cream), and a blueberry muffin with a few pieces of fruit. Compared to the meal you managed to get on your plate, hers looks pretty modest, but then again, this girl lives on desserts and coffee alone, the idea of a proper meal a completely foreign concept to her. 

Before you join her, you take one last look around, wondering if the stares have calmed down at all. But no—it's just the opposite, the popularity of hers shining a spotlight on the two of you.

"Daddy, sit." Wonyoung pats the spot beside her instead of across the table, with an innocent smile that contradicts the demanding nature of her tone. You follow her command without any protest and take a seat beside her. 

Unsurprisingly, Wonyoung stays in character, and doesn’t eat too fast as she begins to take the littlest bites imaginable of her muffin, washing it down with a long sip of coffee. It’s a clear contrast from how you’ve devoured nearly half of your breakfast in what feels like only a few bites, but it can’t be helped, especially with how hungry you are, that rooftop make-out session only making matters worse. 

Besides, Wonyoung enjoys watching you eat—offering you a bite of her muffin in exchange for a kiss that she sneaks in when you've finished chewing, giving you a double dose of blueberry that lingers on her lips.

“Daddy…” she says out loud, unconcerned with who hears your little pet name, whether it be the table next to you or the entire dining hall. “Won’t it be fun with no one interrupting us for the whole day?"

With no hesitation, she rests a hand on your thigh underneath the table, and leans in to press some sweet little kisses against your cheek, all that innocence desperately trying to cover up her intentions. 

"Don't you have class later?"

"Do I?" Wonyoung asks all coyly, pulling out her phone for a moment and not even bothering to check her schedule before putting it away back in her purse. "Looks like I'm all free suddenly!"

You raise an eyebrow in suspicion, because you swear this girl skips class like she's allergic to it. But you’re not going to complain about more free time with Wonyoung, especially if it gives you a free pass to get your hands all over this little brat—not that she needs yet another excuse to skip class. 

"Your studies should be a priority, princess."

"Some priorities are more important than others," she says, using a fingertip to wipe some syrup off the corner of your mouth before slowly sucking the tip of her finger clean. It's no accident how she drags it out, swirling her tongue around with a proud smirk as you watch in disbelief until she slips it out with an obscene pop of her lips. "And right now, daddy is my priority." 

This girl is unbelievable. 

Moments ago, Wonyoung was all sweet and innocent, planting these cute kisses on your cheek in a public display of affection that left your face blushing bright red. But now—that shy, innocent persona might as well be discarded entirely, a complete shift that has her becoming bolder in public, and you know she's not above sitting in your lap to make a statement. 

"Besides—Yujinnie has had too much time alone with daddy lately," Wonyoung reiterates as she shoves a strawberry into her mouth, like the idea of Yujin spending time with you is some type of criminal offense. "I deserve to have you all to myself for a while..."

"Needy little brat."

Wonyoung can't help but giggle quietly, her devious little grin widening as she adjusts her headband, staying mindful of her antics. “I’m daddy’s needy little brat.”

It's rather cute to see her jealous side slip out, how she gets so pouty at the mere mention of you giving Yujin more attention. You're pretty sure you could give Wonyoung all the attention in the world and it’d never be enough. 

So after Wonyoung scoots a little closer and offers you a sip of her coffee that you’re not enthusiastic about, you drink it only because she’s the one offering. But god, it's the most sugary sweet drink you've ever had, and you try not to grimace at how this must be nothing but pure sugar, a far cry from your own almost entirely bitter black coffee. (And to think, this girl used to despise anything with a modicum of sweetness.) 

One sip is enough to wake the dead, but you're not surprised given it's Wonyoung, and this must be the secret source of her boundless energy. You're just about done with your breakfast, left to watch her take more tiny little nibbles of food until there's nothing left on her plate. When she’s all done, those pouty lips wrap around her straw one last time, sucking down the remnants with an annoying, loud slurp that leaves some leftover whipped cream on her lower lip that’s licked clean in the most provocative way possible.

"Come on, daddy," she says, wiping her mouth clean with a napkin and inspecting herself in the makeup mirror before packing her things up. "We have all day ahead of us."

✦ ✦

Back in your apartment, the emptiness can’t be ignored with Yujin not around, leaving you almost missing the chaotic energy that exists when these two are in the same space. The only advantage of her absence is that you can focus all your attention on Wonyoung as she rests her head on your lap, looking up at you so contently while you stroke her hair. 

For once, she’s not glued to her phone while you bask in this rare moment where hardly a word is spoken between you two, nothing to break the tranquil atmosphere. 

It's perfect. 

You wonder how it’s possible that this girl can be simultaneously such a hassle to deal with and also make you feel so happy with her presence. The ultimate dichotomy in the form of Jang Wonyoung—endlessly infuriating at times, and absolutely charming at others. 

At least for now, you’ve got the best side of her. Those pretty eyes stare at you with adoration as you comb your fingers through her hair, appreciating each and every detail of her endless beauty. 

"So beautiful, princess…” you murmur without thinking, nearly regretful to interrupt the silence. Taken by surprise, Wonyoung’s eyes flutter open at the sound of your voice, a red tint coloring her cheeks as her lips curl into an embarrassed grin.

“What was that, daddy?"

"You're so pretty," you say, not wasting any time to repeat yourself, and you’ll do so a thousand times if it gets this adorable reaction out of her. 

It doesn't take much to flatter Wonyoung, who thrives on compliments and praise, no matter how small or simple. "You're absolutely gorgeous, princess."

Not often can you make her speechless, even for a mere moment—but while she stays close to your lap, it leaves her completely vulnerable, all flustered, while you play with her hair and appreciate such perfection. 

"Say it again, daddy."

Before you can do just that, you’ll let the moment linger, relishing in how you have Wonyoung melting at words alone. You're more than aware of how easily she’ll turn into a needy mess at the most basic of compliments, this absolute brat now so timid and shy that you don’t want to ruin the moment. 

"Say what?" 

"Say I'm pretty again," Wonyoung whines with her lips pouting, waiting for your response, and she’s so desperate for more affection, like she’ll die if you don’t give her another compliment. And even with that, you hesitate, because it’s seldom you can get the upper hand. So you keep the silence going for longer than necessary, unable to hide the smile on your face from showing through. 

"Jang Wonyoung is the prettiest princess,” you finally manage to say, and she giggles, because nothing can't hold back how this praise energizes her, turning her into an absolute puddle. 

“Prettier than Yujinnie?"

“Wonyoung—"

“Yes or no," she interrupts with a sigh, because Wonyoung isn't ever satisfied unless you acknowledge her being in the top spot. Everything has to be a competition and there's no one else that compares to her.

“I'm not answering that. You're both—“

"So, that's a yes.” 

There she goes again, always misinterpreting your answer to turn it into her favor. Wonyoung props herself up to sit right next to you, leaning over to press a quick kiss against your cheek. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me, daddy."

You can’t even be that annoyed when she’s this cute, never straying far from that bratty, but lovable side coming out as she clambers onto your lap and shifts her hips to get comfortable. 

Once she sees the marks left from this morning on the side of your neck, Wonyoung can’t help but smile in satisfaction. This sense of pride when she knows you’re all hers. 

"Is this a good place to start, or do you want the bedroom?" Wonyoung asks out of nowhere, barely getting a breath out before she leans in close. 

"Start what?" you ask, again feigning ignorance with a raised brow, because there's no better way to get a rise out of Wonyoung. And falling for the bait so easily, she lets out the loudest huff—this exaggerated frown, lips formed into the perfect pout, followed by rolling her eyes. The trifecta of annoyance. 

"Daddy," she complains with an exaggerated whine, always upset over the littlest thing. 

You’re not dense to what she’s getting at (it’s always the same thing), but you’ll never give in right away. Not when you can so easily let it simmer. "You said you were going to play with me. So that means fucking me all over the apartment until we're tired and sore."

And there's that signature bluntness that Wonyoung is known for. 

It's almost a relief to hear this side of her again, because as enjoyable as the sweet and innocent part of her is—you know it never lasts long. There’s clearly a time limit on how long she can maintain it all before her brattiness slips back out. 

“Did I? Doesn’t sound like me.” 

You now understand why Wonyoung acts this way. Because when you can get under her skin, even in this playful way—it’s more fun than you like to admit. Addicting even, seeing her get all worked up over the littlest things. "I don't remember promising anything..."

She squirms on your lap in frustration, placing her hands on your shoulders as if to convince you with those pleading eyes that it's her right to get her way. Honestly, you don't know how she does this all the time—because just a solitary moment looking into her gaze makes you want to surrender without a fight. 

"You don't want me to take all my clothes off right now? So you can do whatever you want to me?"

So that’s how she’s going to play this. It's tempting, really tempting—and a bit unfair that Wonyoung can provoke you in ways no one could resist, putting that impeccable tight body as her strongest weapon against your defenses. This girl's a master manipulator, no thanks to Yujin teaching her all the ways of seduction, turning her cuteness against you. 

"Then I guess I'll just go take a nap in my room and leave daddy all alone..." There's about a zero percent chance Wonyoung follows up on that threat, but you'll play this game despite that. She knows you will. 

"That's too bad then. Guess I'll just go see Yujin. It's been a while since I've made her—“

“Daddy!" she whines, her mouth pulled into a full frown as she gives up this charade so easily, changing the subject on the spot. "I'm wearing pink today. Underneath all this. It’s brand new, daddy hasn’t even seen it yet. Aren’t you curious to see it?” 

You curse under your breath at how quickly you’re about to fold, because you’re already picturing this gorgeous girl showing off a matching set of sexy underwear that she’ll look so good in. Admittedly, you've got nothing to defend yourself—no good cards left, nothing up your sleeve, and Wonyoung hasn't even gone all in yet.

"Yujin helped me pick it out. It's all lacy and so cute—she said it makes my butt look amazing."

There's nothing more dangerous than that. These two vixens helping pick out something so deadly for each other with the sole intent to make you weak. No one could blame you for buckling under the pressure of wanting to see every bit of Wonyoung’s beautiful body, every inch of that creamy skin yours for the taking. 

You could drag this on, but really, there’s no point, because this girl will bat those eyes, pout those lips, and have you eating right out of the palm of her hand. So, per usual, you topple, without even putting up a real fight. “Fine. Show me, princess.” 

Once again, you’ve succumbed to her ways, and she can’t hide the triumphant smile that flashes across her face, not even a bit humble about her victory. Wonyoung leans in for a kiss, but this time you dodge her lips, instead lifting her up to carry her all the way up the stairs. She wraps her arms around your neck to hold on, giggling even more like it's a bigger accomplishment that she doesn't have to walk up the stairs, getting this princess treatment she absolutely doesn't deserve.

“Not your bedroom, daddy. Yujin’s.” 

Before you’ve even reached the end of the stairs, Wonyoung’s doling out commands, but you follow the detour without objection, changing course straight towards the open doorway right at the far end of the hall. 

Yujin’s bedroom. 

Inside, you don’t bother closing the door, only switching on the lights as you enter with the full intent of defiling it (which, to be fair, Yujin would do exactly the same to Wonyoung, given the chance). 

“Down, please,” is what you’ve been instructed after you give the room a once-over, walking right up to such an immaculately made bed, and deposit Wonyoung not so gently against the firm mattress. The entire room smells so unmistakably like Yujin, as if she left moments ago without you noticing, an aroma that's not going to last much longer with the plans you both have. 

Wonyoung stretches her arms out, getting far too comfortable and almost content to just lie there while your gaze wanders around the room. There's a sense of familiarity walking in here, and the place is well kept, unsurprisingly, with you knowing exactly what’s in every nook and cranny. Normally, you'll see Yujin's laptop sitting on her desk, or on the bed while she lets you distract her from schoolwork by burying your tongue in her ass, because what are those short shorts for other than an invitation to do just that? 

The nightstand drawer consistently holds the same items (hint, one of them is fuzzy, pink, and always gets used on you more times than you care to count), and the closet mirror is seldom used to fix herself in the morning. Instead, the poor thing is only useful for two reasons: watching the view of Yujin's tight ass when she's on her knees, taking your cock so deep in her throat, or your personal favorite—the reflection of herself as you slam that sinful body up against it.

“Aren’t you going to join me?” Wonyoung asks, breaking your concentration as she reaches out for your hand. Before you agree, you remain steadfast at the foot of the bed, arms folded, watching the anticipation building in her eyes. 

“Am I? Weren’t you going to do something for me?” 

It’s the whole reason you two left the couch in the first place, right? The promise of something meticulously picked out that this girl is supposed to model for you, and yet, Wonyoung doesn't move a muscle while your collective stubbornness clashes. 

"Not until you come here, daddy."

Sigh. 

Because of course she can't do something so simple without a negotiation. No, it has to be you who caves in first and climbs onto the bed, with no energy to argue about if it gives you a closer look at this supposed little show that Wonyoung is about to put on. Without another word, she pushes you onto your back and straddles your lap, giving you one more look at her in this cute little white miniskirt and matching shirt ensemble that won't stay on for much longer.

You’re surprised at what comes next, expecting more of a challenge, that you’ll have to do something to earn this illustrious reveal. But then again—Wonyoung wants to show herself off, and nothing will get in the way of that.  

So, without any pause, her delicate fingers pop each button open, revealing a hint of beautiful pink lace. And your eyes are right where she wants them, but before your hands get a moment to be greedy, she stops you, catching a wrist. 

“Nuh-uh, daddy. No touching. Just watch.” 

Wonyoung gives back a smug smirk at giving you guidelines to obey, knowing how difficult it'll be for you to just sit back and enjoy. She continues where she left off, flinging the shirt off her shoulders to expose this pretty bra that's more than met expectations. 

“What do you think, daddy?” Of course, it looks amazing on her, showing off those cute perky tits, and that flawless porcelain skin that you can’t wait to get your hands on. 

"Not sure. Think I need to see the rest before I can decide."

Wonyoung isn’t even a little surprised at that answer, already unzipping her skirt to give more of herself away. She wiggles her hips to take it off her body, all the way down those shapely, endless legs. With nothing left in the way, you've got the best view of this matching set of pink lingerie that hugs her petite frame so perfectly, one that’s so skimpy, yet so ravishing at the same time. 

A simple wow is all you can manage, left nearly speechless, and you haven't even seen the much anticipated angle of that cute little butt that no doubt looks spectacular. Clearly, Yujin knew what she was doing. 

"You like it, daddy?" Wonyoung asks, already so sure of your answer when she grabs your hands to place them on her body. And that’s all you need when she gives permission to touch her to your heart’s desire, to run your fingertips up her toned stomach, right up to her chest, squeezing those perky little tits with all the greed she encourages. 

“Love it. Pink looks so good on you, princess.” 

The more you explore her flawless body, the more she squirms from the attention, desperate to take it all in as your hands touch and grope wherever they please. She simply melts at the attention, but you’re not done yet, waiting until the perfect moment to take two handfuls of that tight ass, unable to resist digging your fingers right in to squeeze tightly, getting a needy little gasp right out of her. 

"Only good?" she pouts, aching for more praise, more validation, and even while she knows how good she looks, she'll simply die without hearing it from your own lips. You kiss her, moving hair out of the way before breathing hot air right next to her ear when you bring your mouth there. 

“My princess looks so pretty, so goddamn sexy, so delicious—can’t take my eyes off you Jang Wonyoung. Can’t wait to taste you all.” It's not quite enough to satiate her ego, but the flattery does a number on her. Any cute little giggles that spill out do so unrestrained while you shower her in all the compliments she craves—that she deserves. 

Yet before you do anything, Wonyoung leans over to you with a beaming smile as she takes hold of your shirt and starts tugging, eager to get you out of these clothes. 

"But I wanna taste daddy first,” she says rather blatantly, working to get the garment up and over your head, stripping it off you in a few short seconds. She loves this, admiring your chest that she’ll spend an entire morning worshiping, kissing, biting, tracing her initials over your abdomen, whatever she chooses—

"Daddy can stare at me all he wants while I suck his cock..."

The thought of getting that pretty warm mouth on you is too good of a treat to resist, especially when Wonyoung is demanding so nicely, acting unusually sweet as she covers your chest with seemingly endless kisses. But soon, that interest wanes when the lust consumes her, unable to hide her desires while she trails further down, nibbling and biting her way further south.

"Whatever you want, princess. I’m all yours." 

“Don’t forget that.” Wonyoung's already snuck the belt from its confines, unbuckling it quickly as possible, trying so hard to mask the urgency that’s guiding her delicate fingers. Without words, she’s going straight for that craving—to taste you, to feel your length on her tongue, and by the time you realize you’ve been left only clad in your underwear, there’s no slowing her down. 

Not that you’d ever want to. 

Wonyoung continues on her mission to strip everything off—yanking at the elastic band to force your boxers down without warning. 

No longer held back, you're fully exposed before this ravenous girl, as Wonyoung licks her lips while admiring your shaft, salivating just a little too noticeably at the sight of her favorite thing in the world. 

"Daddy has such a beautiful cock. Missed it so much, missed how it fills my throat,” she says, and her hands find your thighs, palms stroking firmly up and down while she lays down onto her stomach to get that much closer. 

Her warm breath fans over your balls when she inches close enough, unable to help herself as she leaves kisses right at your base. Wonyoung giggles, smiling prettily before her tongue finally makes its presence known as she swirls around your cockhead in tight, slow circles, moaning a little with just a small taste of you.

She takes a small breath, looking up through those lashes that she’ll bat to get her way—but it isn’t necessary here, because Wonyoung is already where she needs to be. “Gonna make daddy feel so good, better than Yujin ever could.” 

The only response that leaves your lips is a low groan when her lips press a single kiss along the length, taking her sweet time to drag this on for longer than it needed to be. Her tongue immediately proves her point as she takes a long lick, then just like that—her plump lips part to take you, engulfing your swollen cockhead inside the wet heat of her mouth.

You groan with pleasure, resting comfortably against the sheets, and watch how Wonyoung goes to work on this already achingly stiff cock, fueled by lust and greed. She sucks so tightly around the head, not one bit in a hurry, and her mouth creates such a perfect suction around your sensitive tip. As you enjoy the visual, her lips slide down an extra inch or two before rising back up again, establishing a nice, slow pace to start this off, not willing to spoil herself just yet. 

That pretty fucking mouth—it’s your biggest weakness. This pleasure is not just for you, but for Wonyoung, who loves hearing your moans, the low curses, the growls, anything she can pull out of your lips.

The moment you disappear past her lips, she doesn't waste another moment. Wonyoung lowers, mouth sliding a little further, too impatient to wait, surrounding more of that shaft with her silky lips.

“Princess—“ 

Once again, you're completely at her mercy, drowning in anticipation. As those lips go deeper, she takes half your length, slowly bobbing her head to get reacquainted with this wonderful taste. Her warm, slick mouth works you over so expertly, tongue gliding along the underside of your cock to lavish everything it touches. 

The perfect rhythm, those pretty eyes gazing at your reaction—this is all so formulaic, and yet each time still feels as divine as the last. Your tip presses right at the entrance of her throat as Wonyoung dares herself to test her limits, but that gag reflex rudely interrupts. 

The strong grip on your thighs keeps her steady, but she backs out rather quickly, leaving a glistening trail behind as she pops off, gasping lightly from the temporary intrusion. “I’ll take you all down, I promise.” 

She lets out a content sigh, placing more loving, wet kisses on either side of your cock before her mouth dives back down. Determined to swallow you all up to the base, Wonyoung does so with relative ease, her throat relaxing, welcoming it all in. Inch by inch, she conquers your length, taking that thick cock until her nose nestles at your stomach—every throbbing part in the warm depths of her throat, buried right where it belongs. 

“Ah fuck—“

If only Yujin could walk in right now and see her at work, on her own bed no less. She’d be more proud above all else, despite finding something wrong with her technique. 

Wonyoung's gone well above and beyond, taking in every last inch at this point, more than a little eager at getting so messy when her drool runs down your cock. She’s absolutely starved for it all. She’ll do whatever she can to keep those moans going as she pins your hips down to the mattress, delivering pleasure like no one else can. These long strokes down her throat that get you all delirious. 

“Just like that, fuck—keep that pretty fucking mouth right there,” you demand, and when you reach for the top of her head to press her down, Wonyoung doesn't push away—only giving you everything needed to hold her there for as long as you want.

Wonyoung is more than willing to let you choke her with your cock, favoring your length stuffed down her throat over everything else. The only sounds out of her besides the constant gurgle of spit, are the pitiful, desperate, yet grateful little moans, maintaining all this eye contact despite how many times your throbbing cock presses deep into the back of her throat.

Those teary eyes, they watch intently, because this is what gets her off the most, expertly sucking cock while the faces you're making encourages her all the more. It's a sight to behold, how she gets between your legs, devotedly sucking your dick as if nothing else matters to her.

It’s an art form really, how Wonyoung can wring out so much pleasure like she has something new to prove. 

But for a moment, those pretty hands take the lead while her mouth rests. One strokes you with those slender fingers so vigorously, spitting all over your length to rub it all in, while the other plays with your balls, testing how full she’s made them. 

It’s not out of the ordinary to sneak a quick handjob in the morning while Yujin is still fast asleep besides you, so in need of claiming your first orgasm in the morning before you’ve even left the sheets. 

But getting this glorious blowjob, there isn't anything quite like the warmth of her throat, even as the need to please you clashes with the gag reflex that she tries to overcome. In all honestly, you like hearing this struggle, the way Wonyoung chokes and gags on your length while putting your pleasure first, eyes watering, but never failing to give your cock exactly what it demands. 

“That’s it, choke on that fucking cock, god, princess—“ And she listens so obediently, holding you there for a moment longer until she doesn’t—retreating all too suddenly, letting your shaft throb freely when it slips from between her lips.

"Tell me how good I am first, daddy. Tell me how good I am at sucking your cock and I'll keep this in my mouth,” Wonyoung responds after backing off, gasping as she does so, drool running down her chin. “I’ll get my lips right down to your balls and get you off so fucking hard…”

Wonyoung always knows the worst time to get demanding, the perfect time to tease when she knows you need it the most, yearning for the touch of her mouth, ready to do whatever she asks. Before you get another word in, she’s covering your cock in slow, heavy kisses, a barrage to add to her saliva so she can savor you with her pretty lips. 

There’s no use hiding your desperation as she continues these noisy, open-mouthed kisses all the way down to your balls and back up again, while your tip remains swollen, unattended to, aching for those pillowy lips again.

"Princess, need that pretty mouth back on me right now. Need it so bad, back where it belongs—" you plead, but this doesn't dissuade her one bit as she keeps taunting you, with her mouth that refuses to wrap fully back around the head of your cock. 

"You didn't even tell me what I wanted. Not gonna do anything else until I get what I want, daddy."

Once again, she needs that satisfaction like oxygen, needs to hear the words falling out of your mouth while she lies there motionless, waiting and ready. Wonyoung wears a look of impatience, falling back into that wicked smirk while her lips part just the tiniest bit more, brushing teasingly close to your dick. "God, your mouth, princess—it's so perfect, and those fucking lips, love how they look wrapped around my cock." 

Her hot, heavy breath is all you’re getting for now until you give in, until you meet the exact quota of praise she craves. "Tell me I'm better than Yujin. Tell me I make you cum harder, tell me, daddy."

"Princess, stop—"

"No, daddy, tell me. You know I suck your cock the best. All you have to do is say it. Tell me how much better my mouth feels, how much you prefer me swallowing your cum over Yujin.”

It's all part of this devilish game that she loves to play, making it worse by blowing warm air right over the tip, those swollen, red lips getting within kissing distance before pulling away without the slightest brush. You know she's just dying to take you back into her mouth again, but she’ll tease you forever if you don’t give her the right answer.

You give a heavy sigh in defeat. There's no fighting against this brat, not when you’re so rock fucking hard. “You’re the absolute best, princess. Nobody sucks dick better than you—not even Yujin. Your mouth is better, and nobody can make me cum like you can.” 

“Wasn’t that easy? I knew you loved my mouth more,” Wonyoung says, hearing just what she needs to hear, and finally, those sweet lips find their rightful place, easing the frustration you've dealt with. They part with ease, swallowing down your length in one movement, and then it’s an endless repetition of her warm mouth down to your base. 

Wonyoung keeps you buried inside her throat, wanting to choke on you longer than the previous attempt. Her eyes water a little more every time her nose nudges against your abdomen. 

This momentum keeps going, a combination of that intense suction, the messy sounds from slobbering everywhere, and the incredible warmth—everything mixes so perfectly, and even better, the look in her eyes when your dick is so far down her throat.

“Fuck, your mouth, it feels so good, so goddamn good, love when you choke on my cock like this.“ 

“Don’t worry, daddy, not gonna stop, gonna choke on this thick cock until you cum down my fucking throat. Need my tummy so full.” 

It’s rather indulgent for both of you; Wonyoung, who loves slobbering on your length as much as you love hearing all her obscene slurps, and the feeling of those silky soft lips sliding so wonderfully down your shaft, taking you so, so deep. You’re fighting the temptation to take over, to fuck her face so roughly until that makeup she spends so long on is all ruined, because this is her show—you’re just here to enjoy it. 

When the pace starts to falter, she lets your cock slip out of her mouth to focus on your balls, drawing each one into her hot mouth, to give some much needed attention. 

Wonyoung loves taking turns between worshiping your length and those balls, so full of your delicious load she can't wait for, tasting and fondling them to her heart's desire. Her pretty little hands still pump around your shaft when her lips aren't surrounding you, and that hungry little mouth keeps slurping wherever she can, making such loud, obscenely wet noises.

“Mmmph, fuck, daddy—your balls feel so nice and heavy. So full of cum all ready for me to drain, aren’t they?” 

It’s beyond pornographic how Wonyoung devours every part of you, and she’s not done giving you all the pleasure you can handle, not until her tongue moves down lower past your balls, traveling where it doesn’t typically go. You have no use for words, just heavy breaths, reacting almost involuntarily as her tongue swirls against your asshole, flicking against that most sensitive, tight opening.

“Jesus, fuck, Wony—“ 

It’s quite unexpected, but no less welcome, the way that wet, wonderful tongue stimulates you in ways that make your head spin. She's dedicated to this, keeping a hand wrapped around your cock while her mouth is busy, making you feel a rush of pleasure like no other, rimming your ass without an ounce of shame.

You can see her entire grin between licks, and her focus lies with pleasuring your asshole, slobbering and working the tip of her tongue at such a gentle speed, easing in all this pleasure. And somehow, this is a level of vulnerability that's unfamiliar, leaving you overwhelmed by escalating bliss when Wonyoung goes as far as burying her tongue inside your ass, delving as deep as possible. "Yujinnie said you loved this, daddy.”

And god, she’s never been so right. 

You’re utterly at Wonyoung’s mercy while she laps at your asshole with her tongue, occasionally pulling away to lick at your balls. All in addition to her hand pleasuring your shaft, not leaving any part of you neglected. 

It’s every bit unfair that her tongue feels so good against this unexplored area, your nerves going wild. Because it’s not enough that she’s great at giving head and riding your dick. She has to be so good at something only Yujin only does, your body nothing but receptive to pleasure that's reducing you to a mess faster than you'd care to admit.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, really, that this girl can eat ass like a pro. You’ve seen her go to town on Yujin dozens of times, either to get all prepped to take a pounding in her ass or because she absolutely loves doing it. But this—this pleasure has no right being so good, so sinfully indulgent. Wonyoung just has to show off her expertise, that she’s good even at this, her tongue making a complete meal out of your ass.

And from now on, you’ll have to make sure Wonyoung includes this in her oral repertoire, because that bratty mouth is capable of far more than just complaining. 

She works your cock faster while her mouth stays occupied with your asshole, giving more bliss than you know how to handle. Each and every stroke keeps you so painfully hard in her firm grip, her tongue shoved so deep, immersed in this ass licking that steals all these moans out of you, that even Yujin would be speechless. 

If you're not careful, you’ll explode in no time—but Wonyoung knows exactly how far to push this when you're getting on the edge, knowing full well when to pull back so she can go right back to sucking you off, because that's the only way she wants this huge load. 

So rather regretfully (or maybe thankfully), you’re given a break from this wonderful tonguefuck, with no hopes of trying to collect yourself. Then, without further warning, Wonyoung takes your cock down her throat, all in one motion, like it was never a struggle from the beginning. 

"Princess, wait—" 

Your poor dick can't take much more, leaking so much, throbbing so hard—but more than anything, you feel the need to reciprocate, after Wonyoung giving a whole new level of pleasure. "Need to taste you. Need that pretty little cunt in my mouth right now."

As usual, there's a pout that leaves her lips when she's so clearly disappointed, hating the thought of losing her favorite treat. But there's no need to stop what she's so focused on doing when you, in fact, can still return the favor—at the same time.

"Come over here,” you beckon over with a finger, and it doesn’t take long for Wonyoung to crawl up the bed, piecing together the puzzle of what comes next. 

Her pout suddenly disappears while you tug at the waistband of her pretty panties, and she gets the message loud and clear, slowly turning around so you can see what the pink lace hardly hides beneath—a perfect, tight ass that looks devastatingly good in lingerie. But it's not an image you get to savor for long as she peels it down and flings it off somewhere across the bedroom, bringing her pussy and those pale cheeks back right where you need them: facing your hungry, depraved stare, showing off everything.

There's something unbelievably satisfying about having this view—even better when you pull her body closer to let her straddle your face, ready to lose yourself in this absolute feast right above you.

“Daddy…“ Not another word leaves your mouth as you dive in between her thighs, your tongue grazing those slick folds to lap at her needy cunt. When those pillowy cheeks press right against your face, that’s when the real treat starts, all for you to enjoy as your tongue explores her warmth. You're devouring Wonyoung from the start, straight for those soaked lips to get your tongue all over her slit, exploring with vigorous licks to drink up her arousal and spread her mess everywhere in the process.

“Oh god, daddy,” Wonyoung squeals, before that devilish mouth gets occupied by something far better, moaning over your cock, somehow holding back as much as she can while you lose yourself. She’s in utter bliss as you eat her out, and you keep a firm grasp on her taut buttcheeks, spreading them open to keep your tongue buried inside her wet cunt while you work your way up towards her sensitive clit.

She isn't going to let herself get distracted either, picking up right where she left off, drooling all over your dick in between messy slurps. Nothing gets her more excited than pleasing you, moaning for the thick cock that she needs in the back of her throat, the taste that she can’t go without.

"Fuck, princess," you manage between heavy breaths, trying to keep an even, slow pace with your tongue. A near impossible task, so lost in how amazing her mouth is on your dick, savoring every second her arousal coats your lips. “You taste so damn good. God, I could eat your pussy like this for hours.” 

"And I could keep sucking daddy off for even longer—" she retorts, not breaking the pace of this sloppy suction that sounds almost as good as it feels. 

While Wonyoung doesn’t let up with her oral assault, you're intent on playing with her clit, circling it with the flat of your tongue and flicking without any proper direction, slurping so harshly when it’s between your lips. You’re just trying to survive that warm mouth whenever she swallows you down, finding the only distraction is to bury your face in her slick heat.

It really doesn't get better than this. 

You’re making an absolute mess between her legs, and in exchange she’s treating your shaft so well, bobbing her pretty head to get your length down, to take in every single inch she can get.

"Daddy—" she sighs between licking her own saliva off your cock,  and takes these shallow breaths that are anything but steady. Wonyoung can barely keep it together. All these frantic licks you give her needy clit make her moan so desperately against your throbbing shaft when you do so, downright devouring her cunt. 

“That feels so fucking good—you're so good with your tongue, daddy, please don't stop—"

Like you can hardly think of anything else but eating Wonyoung’s delicious pussy, your new purpose in life only to drive her wild and keep all these juices flowing. There's absolutely nothing you'd rather have right now but your tongue prodding so deep inside this pretty sopping hole.

The mere noises she makes while you’re teasing and slurping on her cunt is a reward on its own. The most adorable whimpers and whines always slip out whenever your tongue enters her wetness, no matter how hard she tries to hold them back.

"Daddy, oh my fucking god—" Wonyoung keeps rocking her hips, barely able to do anything but pump your cock in her hand while she selfishly grinds her dripping cunt right on your face. "You’re gonna make me cum if you keep fucking doing that."

That’s exactly where you need her. You can taste exactly how close she is—so close—from her juices flooding your tongue, and that only makes you more driven to push her over that edge, licking, sucking, doing all that's needed to have Wonyoung make a mess all over your face. Her hips can't stop moving, so desperate for friction, so, so desperate for release, whimpering and begging all while she rides your face and chokes her moans on your cock.

You do everything you can to get her to the end, tongue lapping up all the nectar that spills from her pussy, so ravenous to taste all those delectable juices flooding your mouth. She’s equally eager and enthusiastic to take in more than she should, to make a sloppy mess of your shaft, trying her hardest to take you to the hilt while utterly lost in euphoria.

“Almost there—“ she gasps out, and her hot breath spurs on your efforts when she swallows you right down to your balls, the one last thing that sets her off. With a muffled cry against your cock, Wonyoung shakes so hard from your tongue buried deep inside, and her arousal gushes out for you to swallow eagerly, her creamy thighs violently trembling over you while you savor this mess. 

It’s a high so intense that it seems endless, lingering while you lick her through it to ride it all out, almost to the point of a second one right after. Once Wonyoung recovers some of her composure, all that attention goes right back to your cock—holding your hips tight, so she can fuck her face on you so vigorously, barely able to keep up as she attempts to finish you off. 

"Jesus, that throat feels so fucking good, princess, fuck—"

And god, you have no chance to fight back when your cock gets so submerged down Wonyoung’s throat, all the warmth that engulfs, her face between your legs so desperate to drain your balls. 

All you can do is surrender to the pleasure as her ravenous mouth takes over, her throat enticingly guiding you towards that edge. You're beyond capable of articulating anything other than needy groans, not with how Wonyoung's gagging on your length with no regard whatsoever for anything but making sure you unload deep in her mouth.

She doesn’t relent one bit through all this sloppiness, her wet throat choking around the entirety of your shaft to urge your orgasm out. Wonyoung knows a huge, creamy load is building inside of you, and she’ll do whatever it takes to milk it out. You’re not done on your end either, tongue back on her oversensitive clit, licking with so much endless fervor to get another messy release out of her right along with yours. 

“Down my throat, daddy, right now,” she urges, right before another toe-curling orgasm rocks her right against your face. By this point, you're ready to follow right behind, groaning heavily as she keeps sputtering and gagging with only one purpose, to guzzle this inevitable load right down her throat.

“Princess—“

Wonyoung’s a master at what’s next—before you can fully process it, your shaft is buried down her throat, violently pulsating as she squeezes your balls tight, forcing all of your cum right down the back of her throat. 

You've got a grip on her ass as tight as you can brace yourself while she draws that load out, greedily swallowing as much hot seed as her pretty little mouth can handle. Wonyoung guzzles it down with nothing but pride, even what overflows down to your balls, emptying everything you’ve got straight into her stomach as if she's been waiting all day for a load like this. 

Nothing escapes—not when she keeps you stuffed down her throat, keeping you throbbing far long after you’ve been drained, taking every drop that’s earned. 

In the wake of it all, when she’s done her job and your balls have been completely emptied, you’re left a sweaty, panting mess, drowning in euphoric bliss while you stay in her throat.

Because nobody can make you cum like Wonyoung’s mouth can. 

But she’s not done—it’s pure greed, even when your cock is all sore and sensitive, she keeps going, licking up the length of your shaft to clean up anything she may have missed. Wonyoung knows you'll need a moment, that it's not like your balls could produce any more cum so soon after such an intensive explosion in her mouth. Yet, she's definitely not about to let that stop her from trying to milk another thick load, using every method at her disposal to get your overstimulated dick to yield a reward from those swollen balls. 

(No doubt, she learned that from Yujin, because they both have a knack for draining you like it’s essential to their survival.)

It’s a torturous mixture of painful pleasure, when her mouth gets back on you, slow and steady, every motion a reminder that your poor, oversensitive shaft can't take anything else. Yet, you have trouble getting any words out, struggling to put together a proper sentence to protest. 

"Ah, fuck, princess, wait—"

She keeps swallowing you all up for several more slurps, until her hot mouth releases your cock with a wet, loud pop, flicking at your slit for a moment longer just to drive you crazy. And while you're too obstructed by Wonyoung's wet cunt to see what's going on, you know there's a sinister little smirk at the other end. "Too sensitive, daddy?" 

You groan out something that resembles an answer—not that Wonyoung didn’t already know before you've opened your mouth, but that doesn't mean she’ll stop her magic on your dick that's far too sore for a second orgasm anytime soon.

So, she keeps a tight grip, letting this contradictory form of bliss linger as her soft hands caress the entire length of your aching cock. There are no doubts about how sensitive you are, and yet—she wants to get one more load out of you, somehow, thumbing over your swollen tip just to hear how helpless you'll sound in a moment of vulnerability. 

"Fine, daddy. We'll do something else,” she says with a disappointed sigh. For now, Wonyoung plans on leaving your cock alone, so that your sensitive length can recover for her next pounding. Instead, she mounts your chest with that alluring look on her face to kiss you, tasting herself on your lips. 

"Let's see what Yujin keeps around here…“ 

When you lose the comforting weight of her petite body, you barely have time to figure out what that means when Wonyoung looks around in search of anything that could aid in this mission of making you cum once again. She scrounges around the room like a detective on the hunt for clues, digging through drawers, closets, anywhere someone curious might look until—

"Ooh, what's this?"

You’re still in recovery mode, and from your point of view, all you can see is Wonyoung finding something underneath the bed—a rather large black box that’s surprisingly discreet, given what must be inside. She hoists it onto the mattress with a puzzled look on her face, running her thumb over something in the front. "It's locked. Needs a code, daddy."

At first, you think she's joking, but when she passes you the box, you immediately notice that yes, there's a simple four-digit dial presumably holding the entire thing shut. What surprises you the most isn't that it's here, but that it's locked in the first place—there's hardly any secrets kept between you three, spending half the time all sweaty and naked together, sharing just about every moment there is with each other. But the more you think about it—the more you realize this is less a box of secrets and more... a surprise.

"Oh, wait. I know, it must be daddy's birthday." Surely, it can't be that easy, that there has to be at least a little challenge to figure it out—but before you can even finish your thought, you hear the click of the lock as it opens up. "Oh, look at that. I'm a genius."

You'll let her have this moment of glory, trying not to roll your eyes as Wonyoung flips the lid open and peers inside. She gives a dramatic gasp and runs a finger over the velvety interior before digging through what appears to be an arsenal of sex toys: handcuffs, rope, blindfolds, various paddles, plugs, and several things you don't even know the purpose of. But there's something at the very bottom that grabs her attention the most, and Wonyoung removes a pink leather collar, one that has the word 'Brat' inscribed in rhinestones on the front, dangling a metal ring in the center. 

"Looks like that's for you," she teases, examining the collar and how it couldn't be anymore perfectly tailored to her as she looks through the rest of the box for anything of note. Of course, there's a plethora of fun in there, but nothing you really haven't seen before, nothing that you or Yujin haven't used on Wonyoung at this point. 

"Let's see how this looks on me."

Unsurprisingly, it fits Wonyoung just right as she fastens the collar around her neck, playing with the ring as she proudly shows it off. "Pretty, right?" 

It's more than pretty, seeing the light pink against Wonyoung's delicate pale skin as it's now firmly wrapped around her neck, the color matching her discarded thong that's long forgotten somewhere on the bedroom floor. "Not bad."

"Not bad?" she huffs, annoyed that you can't be more impressed, even more offended that you haven’t given her a barrage of compliments. "Ugh, fine. I know how I can make it look better."

Suddenly, Wonyoung kneels on the mattress, unhooking her lace bra in a swift, graceful movement to give you a glorious view of her body on full display. All that milky skin, her perky tits with those pretty nipples, but now your attention is fully directed on the leather wrapped around her neck as she lies down and spreads her legs so invitingly. "How about now? Isn’t this where a brat is supposed to be? On my back, legs spread, all ready to serve?" 

"Since when are you so obedient?"

"Never. I'm just letting you think I am."

Despite what she says, Wonyoung always demands to be manhandled by either you, or Yujin (or both). Labeling her a brat is an understatement; she relishes in provoking you, yet equally revels in the consequences and punishment she rightfully deserves.

As she's self proclaimed—Wonyoung isn't a good girl. 

You look through the box of toys one more time before moving it over to the nightstand, just in case you'll need it later. Upon your return, you straddle her petite, pretty body, staring her down for a moment, letting the anticipation build while you decide on where to start. "Princess—"

"Yes, daddy?"

She looks so good like this, completely naked underneath you that there’s no shortage of options for how you can toy with her body. "What should I do with you?"

"Whatever daddy wants." 

That's too simple of an answer. You've got plenty of ideas swirling around in your head, most of them involving leaving this bratty girl a whimpering mess by the end of it all. And yet, it's so hard to pinpoint exactly where to start. "That's boring, princess. Don't make me choose."

She pretends to think long and hard about it, as if there's anything she wants other than to be completely ruined—the usual treatment. "Dunno. Surprise me, daddy."

That doesn't exactly help, but when has she ever cooperated in any meaningful way? But if Wonyoung wants to be surprised—then you'll do just that and oblige her. 

"What color?" you ask, offering no further explanation. 

"What color for what?" Wonyoung asks, tilting her head slightly in confusion. You give no further details. 

"Just answer the question, princess." 

Wonyoung's not oblivious to what possibilities lie before her, but still hesitates to give anything substantial. "Hmm, well this is pink… so that means I should pick something else doesn't it?" 

Of course, never straight to the point with her, nor willing to offer a simple answer. It's exactly what you should expect from Wonyoung, and god knows she'll drag this out if you really let her. But if she wants to keep stalling, you'll just end up picking for her. "Do I have to specify every fucking thing I ask you, brat?" 

She's certainly earned that title. 

"Blue, I guess." It sounds indifferent, just answering to get you to stop asking—but this is Wonyoung, you have to remind yourself, who’ll spend an hour in her closet trying to decide which one of twelve different pairs of shoes that all look the exact fucking same she wants. "No, red. I want red." 

Again, never a straight fucking answer out of her, like you've given her the most difficult decision in her life. "Are you sure about that, princess?" 

She doesn't even answer at first, Wonyoung doing everything in her power to protest even the littlest thing, making sure you don’t forget the word that’s etched across her collar. "I said I wanted red, daddy."

That fucking attitude never ceases to show up when it's least welcome. Normally, you'll fight it right away, but this one time you just let it slide, which seems to only make matters worse, as if you’ve insulted her by doing so. “Okay then. That's your choice.”

Then there's just silence filling the room while you have this stare down with Wonyoung, waiting to see who'll back down first. It's definitely not going to be you. The tension builds without anyone saying a word, and it's clear neither of you have any plans to back down or concede. In fact, her bratty little glare grows with intensity until—

"Arms up, princess."

There's no telling how this will go, but you have a suspicion that it’ll end up the same exact way. You're sure today won't be any exception. "Sorry? Didn't hear that, daddy." 

"I said—arms up. Brat. I'm not going to ask again."

Judging by that arrogant little smirk on her face, you know Wonyoung heard you the first time. And it’s exactly what you expect as a response. 

Without warning, you seize each of her dainty wrists, stretching both arms over her head to pin them against the pillows. That's when you go for the box on the nightstand, finding exactly what you need in no time—a long bundle of red rope that's perfect for tying up an uncooperative brat.

Taking one more look at the nightstand, you’re tempted to find something to silence that fucking mouth—then again, you’d never miss a chance to hear her beg for more, or those pretty little moans that'll slip out when she's absolutely lost in bliss. So, instead you're settling for this, winding the rope around Wonyoung's wrists to bind them together, tight and secure, forcing her arms to remain up and out of the way. 

"Much better. Must you be so difficult? Disobedient little slut." 

Her eyes gleam at the harsh words, a low whimper falling from her parted lips. Once the rope is secured and tied in a tight knot, there's no escape. Despite that, you go the extra mile just to be sure the binds won't come loose so easily. "But daddy likes it that way, doesn't he?"

You can't exactly deny any of those words. 

She's doing this for your benefit equally as much as to annoy you. And you can't say you don't enjoy putting Wonyoung in her place, especially when this is the end result—bound and spread out all for you, helpless and at your complete mercy. 

"Fucking brat. You think I like having to do this? All this extra effort?"

"Uh-huh. Daddy loves tying me all up so I can't escape, so he can use me how he wants." Wonyoung starts squirming a bit in her tight restraints before raising her hips, giving a sinful view of her wet, dripping cunt that looks oh so enticing. "And since I'm such an unruly, disobedient little slut—" 

Your expectant gaze wanders right between her pretty thighs, looking long and hard at those plump pussy lips that make your mouth water, so desperate to sink your cock straight into that wet, tight cunt. Wonyoung can't hide her satisfaction either of being restrained like this, relishing the feeling of being trapped, completely at your mercy, unable to move without your help. "Daddy's gonna have to make me behave..."

"Oh, don't you fucking worry about that." The threat comes with a guarantee as you spread Wonyoung's thighs further apart, getting a closeup look at all her drenched flesh covered with arousal in the process, just waiting to be used. It makes your cock ache. “Daddy’s gonna fuck the brat out of you.” 

Wonyoung tries to close her thighs shut at the thought of that, already so fucking wet and needy, but you’re not having it. Her pretty cunt practically screams to be filled, while you open those creamy thighs back up that feel so hot against your palms when you run your hands across them.

"I'm so ready to be all stretched out by your big, throbbing cock." It's hardly subtle, those depraved words spilled out so breathlessly that it drives you crazy—not even sure which of you needs this more, her or you. "Fill me all the way up, daddy."

Now that you've got her like this, completely at your whims, you've got time on your side to really tease Wonyoung to her wit’s end. "Got a better idea. Maybe I'll use one of these toys Yujin left us. That's what they're for, isn't it? So many to choose from, I can take my time…” 

She shakes her head a bit, not liking what she’s hearing one bit. "No, daddy, please. These toys aren't as good as your amazing cock. They can't pump a big load inside my pussy like you can."

Her demeanor changes so quickly, a flick of a switch how her tone softens now that the threat of denial is looming over her head. You have Wonyoung right where you want her, and how much effort she’s going to put in to earn your cock—well, that all depends on her. 

“Daddy's poor balls must be aching. They look so full and heavy—they need emptying again, don't they? Don't you wanna dump a massive load inside my pussy?" 

She's too good at this, at trying to tempt you with words alone. There's no denying how well it's working, getting you so fucking hard, with this urge rising and building inside you. But you can't falter, not yet, not when you're pulling all the desperation out of Wonyoung with so much more to go. 

"Who said anything about dumping a load inside you? I've got you to myself right here. When I’m done, I can just jerk myself off all over your pretty naked body. Maybe even leave you all tied up here for Yujin to play with after. This is her room, after all." 

"Daddy, no! That's not fair. You're supposed to use me. And fill me up with cum. That's what I'm here for. To be your pretty little cum dump. Then to keep your dick all nice and warm after..." 

How cute, how she tries to guilt you in to letting her get what she wants. Shameless doesn't even begin to describe Wonyoung, but that’s precisely what makes this so fun to deny her. "Or—I could just fuck Yujin right here. On her bed. Right in front of you. She loves my cock just as much as you, doesn't she? Maybe even more. What if I emptied my balls into her instead?"

"Daddy wouldn't dare." 

"Wouldn't I? Yujin wouldn’t have any trouble riding me while we make you watch, not touching you. Make sure I only fill her up. You enjoy watching us fuck all the time already. Why is this any different? Maybe we'll keep your pretty pussy untouched for the rest of the weekend. I’ll just let her cum on my cock over and over until we tire out…"

More than anything, the idea of going any length of time without your cock inside Wonyoung seems to rile her up the most, hitting all the right nerves that get exactly the reaction you want out of her. 

"Daddy wouldn't be able to go through with that. You love my pussy way too much," she pouts, clearly getting frustrated at all your empty promises. "I'm the prettiest and the tightest. Don't you remember the first time you came inside me? How much cum you emptied? No way daddy can't go a whole day without this tight little pussy wrapped around your big, perfect cock..."

Oh, she knows better. Wonyoung knows perfectly well how this need is mutual, how little either of you can go without getting some relief, finding any excuse to fuck. Better yet, there's nothing Yujin would love more than that—you flooding her cunt with an endless amount of cum while this poor girl stays all tied up, only able to watch from the sidelines. But neither of you are actually that cruel, as fun as that temptation is. 

"Daddy, please. Put that big dick in me. I'll let you use me as much as you want, pound me until you give me a nice warm creampie—a thick one I can feel right here, deep inside me."

She’s pulling strings that have no control attached to them. 

“But what if I wanna fuck your ass first? Or use your throat while your head hangs off the edge of this bed just the way you like, hm, princess?"

"Anything, daddy can use any part of me. Fuck whatever hole he wants. Just—please, can't wait, need to have that dick in me right now. Don't care where it goes—" 

Now, you could really keep this going, but there's not much point when she's reduced to begging so pathetically like this, already way past the breaking point. So there's really only one thing left to do. “Of course I’m gonna fuck you. And cum in you. Needy fucking slut.” 

"Daddy's needy little slut," she corrects with the biggest sigh of relief. "Wreck my little pussy. Don't hold back anything or go easy on me."

You're more than a little annoyed that she thinks you ever would. "Quiet, princess. All that bratty mouth is good for is making my dick wet."

Without waiting for another response, you're grabbing Wonyoung’s body and pulling her closer towards you to line yourself up properly with her dripping entrance. Just the tip of your cock presses right up against that hot, slick opening, ready to fill her up and stretch her wide open. There's no rush, not when you can see the anticipation in her eyes, so desperate for your first thrust. 

Before you satisfy her needs—needs that you both crave, you take a moment to let it sink in: how Wonyoung is all tied up, helpless, with her arms bound above her head and the prettiest collar around her neck, only able to take whatever you have to offer.

“Such a pretty little thing, all tied up, ready for this fucking cock. Gonna have a lot of fun with you, princess.” 

You don’t have any time to wait for a response, and slowly, you ease your shaft in, inch by inch, groaning at the overwhelming pleasure of sinking into her warmth. Wonyoung's so unbelievably drenched, yet so fucking tight as you push yourself in as deep as possible. It's the perfect stretch of her walls as you slide the entirety of your hard cock into this tight, little hole, unable to hold back any moans at how ready her pussy is to take you—until you're balls fucking deep inside her. 

“Daddy—“ 

"God, princess, love how fucking tight you are. Your greedy little cunt is just begging for a huge load in it, isn’t it?”

Wonyoung just nods wordlessly, struggling with the bratty facade now that she's got exactly what she needs, all this heat enveloping your shaft so nicely. You don't even bother to move your hips, not yet, opting to leave your dick inside her, lost in that incredible wetness that pulls you right in—but not for too long.

Before she can even complain, your hands settle firmly over her tiny waist to keep her in place as you slide the entirety of your length back out in one fluid motion, all the way back to the very tip—then immediately thrust back in full force,  impaling Wonyoung with your cock. 

"Oh god—" she gasps, the stretch so sudden as she tightens around your cock so deliciously. And you're quick to follow up with more, because there's only one way this is going to go. There's no patience left, and your only plan is to pound into her pussy hard and fast like you never have before.

"How's that dick feel in you, brat? This is what you needed, right? Just how you like it?"

"Y-yes, right there, daddy," Wonyoung whines, losing all of that attitude in an instant, giving in to every little sensation that floods her body. "Ah—so good. My pussy loves having your dick in me. Fuck me, fuck me until your balls are empty."

Like there was ever a question you intended to do anything else.

You've been storing up all this pent up frustration to fuel your hips, every forceful thrust completely ravaging her. The pace isn't even remotely gentle, knowing full well Wonyoung needs this pounding more than ever as your cock plunges into her wet heat without even the slightest pause.

"Your pussy feels so fucking good," you growl, unable to tear your gaze away from her perfect features, how she lies there helplessly, taking your cock so well. 

You can barely handle how goddamn tight she is. With each deep stroke, her sticky arousal clings to your throbbing shaft, running down the length while her mouth hangs open to release every breathless moan. 

"Give me more, daddy. Harder—"

Even all tied up, this girl thinks she's in charge here. "Needy slut. You're lucky I'm fucking you in the first place. Your pussy should be thanking me."

"Th-thank you, daddy," she moans, in absolute fucking ecstasy, her perfect cunt squeezing the life out of your cock whenever you bottom her out. Her entire body gets rocked with the sheer force of every harsh, deep thrust, her cute breasts doing their best to bounce along to this unforgiving rhythm that hasn't even begun to settle. "Harder, p-please—"

"Oh, so you do know how to ask nicely? But only when I have my cock buried in you?"

Wonyoung only lets out a strangled gasp in response from another hard thrust, saying nothing more and resorting to desperate whining each time your cock completely fills her to the hilt. Your urge to deny her has all but vanished, with her sticky warmth enveloping the entirety of your shaft when your cock fills cunt—so hard, so goddamn deep, enough to overwhelm her, and she can’t even scramble for anything in reach to grab on to. 

Every single time you slide out, her slick, tight walls pull you right back in, making it impossible to ignore the ravenous clutches of her cunt. Soaked can’t even begin to describe her slick entrance, an abundance of arousal ensuring the path is paved for your cock to ram into her pussy unimpeded. 

“Feels so good, daddy," Wonyoung breathes out, her face inching closer when you lean forward, lifting those lusciously long legs up in the air to place them over your shoulders with her feet left dangling in the air helplessly. 

Nothing holds you back when you’ve got her all folded up, your hips dominated by lust and pleasure as her pliant body accepts this pounding so effortlessly. The room resonates with flesh meeting flesh, and it all feels a little too unreal. Every ounce of pleasure intensified as you plow into her tight heat that devours every inch you have. 

“You're so deep in me—want you to cum, want you to cum so hard inside me, daddy—please."

That’s when you really start to give it to her. 

The bed underneath Wonyoung creaks louder and louder in protest, being drowned out by the sinful sounds that escape her lips that urge your cock right back in. 

You can see it in those fucking eyes, that she’s frustrated—unable to touch you, unable to wrap her arms around you and dig her nails right into your back. The poor thing can’t even touch herself to give that extra pleasure while you're railing her into the mattress like this. She'll survive, because it’s not like this isn't making her wetter by the moment, every second she's restrained like this, taking your cock with her mouth open and pussy swallowing all of you up. 

“I think I like you best like this. Tied up and helpless with nothing to do but lay there, just a warm, wet hole for me to use until my load fills you."

Wonyoung can’t exactly disagree with that, even as much as she wants to have her hands wandering your body, tugging at your hair, or feeling your muscles flex under her fingers. “But doesn’t daddy miss when I wrap my legs around, so I can make sure all that cum goes deep inside me? You're going to cum in me, right?”

"Not if you keep asking me again and again. Maybe I'll just paint your pretty face and leave you here instead," you say, slowing your pace while you think it over. She just frowns, trying to use her cunt to encourage you, to make you keep going with extra force. Even when you shift the position of her legs, taking them off your shoulders to spread them wide as they’ll go, knees nearly to her chest so you can really drill her, she doesn’t give up. 

"I know that's not what you really want," Wonyoung says, countering with a little smirk that contorts in pleasure when your cock angles at just the right spot. It never ends—even as your hips piston so viciously, and she takes the entire length of you right back down to the hilt with every stroke. That bratty mouth never stops. 

“Daddy wants to cum in my needy little pussy. Why else would you be fucking me like you’re trying to break me? Why else would you put me in this position if you’re not going to breed me?” 

“Do you ever—fucking stop talking? Regretting not gagging you from the start.” 

“Not a chance daddy would do that. You like hearing me beg for your cock too much.” If her goal is to get you to lose control, to go as rough as you can get, she's absolutely going to get all that and more. You gain a new rush of energy to fuck your frustrations out, slamming into this blissful warmth that you're eager to spill your seed in despite what any other words that leave your mouth say.

“Inside me, daddy, deep inside," Wonyoung insists, voice faltering with every strained syllable, barely hanging on through all these forceful thrusts. She looks absolutely satisfied with you groaning above her, like her pussy controls your cock and not the other way around. “You wouldn't dream of pulling out—daddy wants to fill me so bad."

Can’t argue with that one bit. With her legs so helplessly in the air, she watches you pump away without restraint, into this intoxicating heat, until there’s no defenses left against the inevitable. 

“Can feel you throbbing so much, daddy must be so close. My pussy needs it—please, pound my little hole until your balls empty, fill me to the brim,” she pleas so innocently, so sweetly, in contrast to your harsh, raw fucking that hasn't given even a moment's break since you lifted her legs up.

"You think you deserve that? You really think you deserve for me to breed you?" It’s a question unfitting an actual response, because like hell,  you don't deserve to empty yourself into Wonyoung's warm little pussy. If anything, you deserve this reward for putting up with her for so long every single day. 

"When has that ever stopped you before? Daddy always fills me even when I've been a bad girl. You love shooting all your hot cum inside and watching it slowly drip out of me..."

Once again, she has you there. All you can do is put more power into your hips, to make sure your climax arrives sooner, slamming your entire length so deep into that dripping cunt that's begging for your release. You're not leaving this bed until Wonyoung gets filled.

“Fucking brat. Only because your cunt feels so good is why I'm finishing inside you. And because Yujin isn't here to drain me."

Wonyoung isn't the least bit insulted by these words, smirking happily at getting what she thinks she oh so deserves. And while you might be the one in control, fucking her senseless with her legs obscenely spread up in the air like a toy for your own pleasure—she holds more power than you realize. Because, as always, you're giving her exactly what she wants, even when you pretend not to.

"Daddy, gonna—" is all she can get out before you feel her pussy begin to spasm violently around your shaft, clamping down so tightly you might burst before she does. 

"Then fucking cum, you cock hungry little slut—then your pussy can have my load." You can't exactly blame her when you’ve been pounding her so harshly into the mattress, that she falls into an orgasm so quickly, reaching the height of her pleasure—and you're almost there yourself.

You can feel her orgasm rip through her body as she moans your name breathlessly, eyes rolling back into her head in bliss as your cock fills her sweet cunt over and over, the tip ready to erupt at any second. More than anything else, the thought of emptying your entire load into Wonyoung makes your hips buck even faster, until you're pushing her into yet another climax while desperately seeking relief yourself.

"You want a hot fucking creampie in your pretty little cunt, huh? That’s what you’ve been begging me for?" you growl, as you struggle to maintain this brutal pace, chasing after your own release, and Wonyoung can't even cling onto any part of you to help speed this all up. She only lets out all these fervent nods, still going through the motions of her own next impending orgasm, toes all curled, mouth wide open as her pussy clenches and clenches all around your aching shaft. 

And it feels way too fucking amazing to resist.

Nothing stops you from plowing this girl who's so helplessly at your will, waiting for your cock to reward her, lips parted, eyes closed, the loop of her pretty collar dangling with each rock of your hips, until you’re right there at the end—

You fucking unload everything. Every drop that belongs to Wonyoung, every hot creamy spurt that she's craved for so long. Her gaze never falters while her pussy milks out all this cum right up into her womb, coating her insides with a massive thick load, just like she desperately needed.

Not for a second do you stop your harsh movements, pushing every bit of your heavy load deeper into this needy cunt. Wonyoung has never looked so pretty—arms bound, legs up, accepting all of your cum, her beautiful skin glistening with sweat from being used like this, red marks already forming around her delicate wrists, while your cock keeps pumping more and more thick, pearlescent cum into her. 

Only then, do you ride this high, when you're so wonderfully exhausted from giving this brat everything until your balls have nothing more left to spill.

“Fuck, princess,” you mutter between pants for breaths. Her body is equally spent, still twitching in the aftershocks of her own blissful release, and the warm, messy load in her pussy. "Made me cum so much—"

“Don’t I always?” Wonyoung responds between tired gasps for air, and even on the verge of passing out from exhaustion, she still finds the energy to bite back. 

You'd usually find your own snarky response to that, but you’re far too tired and much more interested in seeing the mess that’s been left inside her. When your cock slowly slides out of her freshly used cunt, a familiar sight greets you—so much thick, creamy white flowing out, mixed in with Wonyoung's own juices that looks absolutely exquisite spilling all over the inside of her creamy thighs.

“Shit—you’re fucking right. I love watching my cum drip out of you," you admit, trailing lazy fingers over her body, her glistening stomach, those perky breasts, and her delicate neck that looks so good with that little collar around it. Your touch wanders up to her face, caressing her cheek with a thumb, admiring the faint smile that graces those pink lips. "Love cumming inside you more than anything, princess."

Wonyoung doesn't say a thing except to giggle softly, more than a little pleased with herself. She's been in this bound state for long enough, so it’s about time to untie her, you think, loosening the knot enough to free those slender arms. You slip off the collar from her neck as well to make it easier to catch her breath, and rub the soreness out of those dainty wrists, kissing them as the rope slips off and goes forgotten. 

For sure, Yujin is going to notice this all when she gets back and ask for details.

Now that Wonyoung can move around unrestricted, she uses her newfound freedom to prop her body up and lean in for a kiss. It's more subdued than you expected, given that she still needs a few fleeting moments to gather her senses while you slip a hand between her legs to play with the mess you've made in her cunt, making sure the remnants of your load don’t escape. 

"It’s so much… so easy to make daddy cum, isn't it?" she says, still unable to breathe normally, a proud smile on her face like she didn't cream all over your cock an uncountable number of times either.

"Don’t make me regret untying you, princess. Next time I'm leaving one of those toys in you, shutting the door, and getting some peace and quiet."

"Like you could ever leave me. Daddy can't get enough of my tight little pussy."

"Brat." 

"Daddy's brat."

[wendichester]

Hello! Could I perhaps request the winchester of your choice (whoever you feel fits this situation best) x reader with an established relationship, where maybe it's an anniversary so he wants to make something special for you, like a special dinner in the bunker, the bedroom filled with candles and a bouquet of flowers, that sort of thing, because for once there isn't a case

EXCEPT: you haven't left the bunker all day, there's no reason to! You three finished a case the day before so you took this as a resting day since there wasn't any other case found, so! The brothers have to find a way to get one to keep you out till the evening, while the other rushes to get everything set up

I hope this isn't too detailed/unclear?? Tysm anyway if you write this!! I love your blog a lot <3

⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡ anniversary surprise,

summary. dean wants to do something special for your anniversary

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 963

notes. though i would also see sam doing something like this, it just screamed like dean behaviour. he's the softess little thing to me ‹𝟹

The bunker is unusually quiet for once—a rare luxury in the hunting life. After wrapping up a tough case yesterday, you've taken full advantage of the downtime. Still in your pyjamas, you've spent the day curled up on the couch with a book, refusing to even glance at your laptop.

Sam, however, hasn't been able to sit still. He keeps pacing the bunker, glancing at his phone like he's expecting bad news. It's distracting enough that you close your book and call him out.

"You trynna dig a hole in the ground or something, Sam? What's wrong?"

He freezes mid-step, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights. "What? Nothing! I'm fine."

You squint at him, unconvinced. “Sam, if you’re trying to avoid telling me about a case, just spit it out. I’m not leaving this bunker today unless something’s on fire.”

He stammers for a moment, clearly scrambling for an excuse. Then, his eyes light up like he's just had an idea. Oh, boy. "Uh, there's this event in town. A... a book signing. By an author I like. I thought it might be interesting, but I, uh, don't wanna go alone."

The confession catches you off guard. "A book signing?"

"Yeah," he says quickly, nodding like it's the most logical thing in the world.

You blink, momentarily caught off guard. Sam Winchester, shy about attending a book event? It doesn't quite add up, but you decide to let it slide.

You glance toward Dean, who's pretending to be engulfed in his phone and beer, but is clearly eavesdropping. He doesn't even look up, clearly uninterested.

"Alright, Sam," you say with a sigh. "I'll go with you."

Relief washes over his face, making the situation even more weird. "Great! Thanks."

The book signing ends up being more enjoyable than you expected. Sam is in his element, geeking out over the author’s latest release and chatting animatedly with other fans. You find yourself wandering through the bookstore, skimming through titles and enjoying the relaxed atmosphere.

Afterward, you grab coffee at a nearby café, the conversation flowing easily as you and Sam talk about everything and nothing. It’s a rare, peaceful moment—one you don’t take for granted.

By the time you return to the bunker, the sun has long since set, and the air carries a cool, crisp chill. Sam walks ahead, fishing in his pocket for the keys.

“Shoot,” he says suddenly, patting his jacket. “I think I left something in the Impala.”

You shrug, already halfway to the door. “Alright. I’ll meet you inside.”

The moment you step through the door, you stop in your tracks.

Rose petals are scattered on the floor, forming a delicate path that leads toward the kitchen. Soft, flickering candlelight spills into the hallway, and the faint scent of your favorite meal wafts through the air.

“Dean?” you call out, your voice trembling slightly.

“Over here,” he replies, his voice warm and inviting.

You follow the trail, your heart pounding in your chest. When you step into the kitchen, you’re met with a sight that takes your breath away.

The table is covered with a white cloth, set with actual plates and silverware instead of the usual mismatched collection. Candles are arranged in the center, their golden light casting a romantic glow over the room. Your favourite store-bought meal sits neatly plated, steam rising in the air.

Dean is leaning casually against the counter, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. He’s wearing a button-up shirt instead of his usual flannel, the effort not lost on you.

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” he says softly.

Your stomach drops as guilt washes over you. You completely forgot.

“Dean,” you whisper, your eyes welling up. “I… I didn’t—”

“Hey,” he interrupts, pushing off the counter and walking toward you. He cups your face gently in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “It’s okay. I know you’ve been busy. This is my gift to you.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you stare up at him, his green eyes filled with nothing but love and understanding. “What did I do to deserve you?”

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m the lucky one to have you.”

You bite your lip, emotion threatening to overwhelm you, but Dean tugs you toward the table before it can. “Come on. Dinner’s getting cold.”

The meal is perfect, just like everything Dean does when he puts his mind to it. Between bites, you and Dean fall into easy conversation, laughter punctuating the air as you recount memories from the past year. The stress of the world melts away, leaving only the two of you in your little bubble of happiness.

After dinner, Dean takes your hand and leads you down the hallway. When he opens the door to your bedroom, your jaw drops.

The room is softly lit with more candles, their gentle glow highlighting a small table set up in the corner. A rich chocolate cake sits in the center, accompanied by a bottle of champagne and two glasses. The bed looks impossibly inviting, piled high with plush pillows and fresh sheets.

“You really outdid yourself,” you murmur, turning to him with wide eyes.

He shrugs, but the pleased grin on his face betrays his pride. “Only the best for my girl.”

Your heart swells as you step closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you, you know that?”

“I love you too,” he says, leaning down to kiss you.

The rest of the night is spent wrapped in Dean’s love and care, the perfect celebration of the life you’ve built together. For once, the world outside doesn’t matter—all that does is the warmth of his arms and the steady beat of his heart.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas

[peachyscenes]

How To Love | Fashion Industry!ATEEZ x Fem!Reader

The fashion industry has its own unique approach to life. Take a chance at romance with these helpful guides.

How to Fake a Marriage | Fashion Designer!Hongjoong x Photographer!Reader

Fame, money, and connections. You could say that Kim Hongjoong has it all. And while Hongjoong could give his girlfriend all and more, she did nothing but give him headaches. After 9 long years, and a beautiful ring he wanted to surprise her with, she decides to break it off... by having Hongjoong walk in on her cheating. A year later, he sees that she's now engaged. But what she didn't know, was that her overzealous ex wasn't going to stay silent in pain and instead, he decides to get even. Mark your calendars, because Hongjoong is getting married!

Coming in the near future!

How to Be a Winner | PR Manager!Seonghwa x Nepo Baby!Reader

All your life you've been handed everything on a silver platter. You don't take anything for granted, but you're pretty sick of being seen as anything else except a product of nepotism. They don't see the work you put into your modeling career, the hours spent working to feel worthy. It wasn't as easy as it seemed, especially with a grueling mother who expects you to be exactly like her in her prime. Seonghwa seems to think so too, choosing to take the gossip that surrounds you into account when Hongjoong picks you to be apart of his upcoming fashion show. However, his narrative about you begins to unravel bit by bit when he begins to view you in a different light.

Coming in the near future!

How to Breakthrough | Model!Yunho x Actress!Reader

Jeong Yunho, the golden boy of the fashion industry, has just scored a new chance in his career to star in a new upcoming movie. Unfortunately, he faces this with a challenge as he has no experience in acting other than being an avid movie and show watcher. On top of no real experience, people are skeptical about his ability. They say he's not good enough and has unfairly taken this chance from a real actor. Not you though. You think Yunho has potential, and you're ready to help him out. And as a seasoned actress, you'll make it your mission to make Yunho the best actor this year.

Coming in the near future!

How to Hate You | Model!Yeosang x Model!Reader

If there was one way to describe the relationship between you and Yeosang, it's like water and oil. Yeosang is the vein of your existence and if you had the chance to smite him off the Earth, you'd do it in a heartbeat. Yeosang could say many things about you, yet not a single adjective, verb, or noun is a positive one. Your hatred for each other is so well known, people know to not put you two in shows together. It's like silverware found in the kitchen. That is, until Hongjoong decides that he needs to add some flair to the opening and closing of his upcoming show, a wedding line at that. Look out, because the bride and groom-to-be's are not looking too happy.

Coming in the near future!

How to Win You Back | Model!San x Fashion Designer!Reader

The summer of your year-long internship was where you met San, a renowned model who's known for his handsome physique and charming personality. Little by little, you begin to see through the cracks of his image, and soon, he becomes your everything and you become his. Your future is bright as you're given the opportunity to stay as an official designer, when he suddenly dumps you. A year later, you're working under Hongjoong when you see San again, regretful and ready to start over. You're not sure what to feel, but one thing is very clear, you're not willing to go back. Lucky (or unlucky) for you, San is willing to fight for you both.

Coming in the near future!

How to Not be a Model | Model!Mingi x Physical Therapist!Reader

While opening for one of the biggest shows of the year, Mingi takes a fall that puts him on an immediate hiatus. You can't really have an extravagant lifestyle with a fractured tibia, and it puts great a pause on his life. Mingi feels suffocated in the four walls of his apartment complex during his recovery. The only thing that makes him feel a little better is his wonderful physical therapist who's way too professional for his liking. Getting to know you is like a breath of fresh air for him and after having a heartfelt conversation about happiness, Mingi begins to reflect on his own version of it and if he's truly happy where he is.

Coming in the near future!

How to do Damage Control | Model!Wooyoung x PR Manager!Reader

Jung Wooyoung, also known as Wild Child, is often in the spotlight for being one of, if not, the most outspoken model in the industry. "Difficult to work with," "Too immature," "Too intense," "Too much." Everything and anything has been said about him, but it's not until one major scandal that gets him kicked off a show that really pushes his overbearing image in the spotlight. And to make matters worse, his PR manager quit. With the help of Seonghwa, he manages to find a new PR manager, but unfortunately for Wooyoung, you're new to the business, therefore too frail in his opinion. So he decides to make it his mission to break you before the industry does. And you gladly accept his challenge.

Coming in the near future!

How to Write a Novel | Gossip Columnist!Jongho x Retired Painter!Reader

Jongho has written multiple articles on every celebrity in South Korea. As a renowned gossip columnist, he knows how easy it is to write about them. From humble rookies to jealous veterans and vice-versa, he's written it all. So, he decides to step away from his usual and ventures out to write a book. A romance novel that's based in the fashion industry shouldn't be a problem, except he doesn't know if true love is even possible. With the help of Hongjoong, he gets in touch with you, a former designer and painter, who at your peak, dropped everything for love.

Coming in the near future!

a/n: ok so obviously these won't be coming out ASAP (busy college student here!), but i'm currently in the process of writing how to fake a wedding! it's not done as i just started today (april 27, 2025), but i will absolutely finish this project as i fell in love with it (this came to me in a dream type shit (no it didn't i had a terrible stomach bug all day and i feel like i hallucinated this mid toilet break)). i do wanna put this out there, mingi's piece is not gonna be on some grey's anatomy shit. this is an ethical household. yes it's doctor x patient but it will not be doctor x patient during the check ups, my reader is a professional, she is NAWT losing her license trust.

Please do not plagiarize! I will legitimately cry and then plan your impending demise! All rights reserved! All original work by me @peachyscenes! This was thought of in my brain and typed with my own fingers! This is all fiction and not a true representation of ATEEZ or anyone who will be mentioned! Reblogs are much appreciated!

[marsprincess889]

Intuitive messages

Pick a group

This is for particular collectives and it may or may not be for you. You'll know if it is.

Calm your mind and go with the one that has the strongest but the most effortless pull.

Group 1:

Signs: trees, robin birds, archery, female characters from greek mythology, color red, short hair, dancing to playlists in your room, outdoors, have gone to woods recently or are planning to, plants, black headphones, red scarf or gloves, Pride and Prejudice, Robin Hood, sailing, Inej from Six of Crows(Grishaverse), green and brown, gracefulness, Red(Taylor's Version), USA, Canada. Names Bailey, Martha and Mary. INFP, ISFJ, ENFP, ENFJ, ISFP. Nakshatras: Ardra, Vishakha, Magha, Anuradha.

I had to write this quickly, I have not even chosen the pic for this group yet as I'm writing this.

Bailey, Martha and Mary(and variations of Mary) are the names I got.

Some things about you: you are a lighthearted person, most likely sweet and protective of your loved ones. I think you've recently come to terms with some repressed thoughts, feelings or general parts of yourself that you have been avoiding. It's like it gradually came into your conciousness, slowly then all at once.

"Bury the dirt and move on"

To be honest I'm just getting feelings and images/visuals, like scenes from what is happenning, but I have no idea what this sentence means yet.

Self-worth and wrapping up a cycle are playing into this. They are why this is happenning.

Have you ever felt that feeling when you're angry but you're happy that you're angry? It's like you feel euphoric because you feel like yourself again. And it also feels like aligning, effortless movement and relief. This is what I think you're feeling.

Scenario one: a guy(or a person of any gender, mostly I'm getting a guy) has dissapointed you and even though it hurt, you kind of knew it and now you feel like you can let him go in peace and joy.

Scenario two: family and friends have taken you for granted and now you feel like they're all missing out on you, but you start to feel better about it, even great, and you're doing perfect without them. You think, "their loss". Or, you're about to distance yourself from them to live your life as you want to.

Scenario three: you've experienced devastating pain regarding relationships or a relationship, most likely a friendship or something romantic. You feel sort of numb but slowly and surely you're gaining strength from it. This might have happenned recently or it feels fresh, or it just got reactivated, like, you've remembered what it feels like not long ago, maybe you've just started to proccess it now, maybe you realized something crucial about it recently.

One thing: prepare. Something is going to happen that moves you over to this next stage in your life. It's largely out of your control. It can look like nothing at all on the outside, but you're going to feel different. You will start to feel like you're respecting yourself more.

Images I'm getting that might be symbolic or meaningful for you, interpret them as you want/feel like💕:

At first I got you dancing in the woods with bare trees, with a house or cottage nearby. Do you have short straight black hair? Are you short?😄 do you have pale skin and small black eyes? Do you wear a red scarf, white coat/jacket and black headphones? I'm seeing you making tik toks?? This is the feeling that I talked about, about embracing your repressed feelings or thoughts.

I also got an image of a girl/woman with a different appearance practicing archery with a focused, determined, serious gaze.

Next I saw a ship sailing and a young woman there, looking like she turned a new page in her life, like she's decided on something.

This might be a message on how to handle those emotions, which I think for most of you, is mostly consistent of anger.

Don't let it consume you, but do not ignore it either, no matter how uncomfortanle it seems, no matter how much you think it'll halt your life, it's better to utizile it. It's actually your strength.

You're focused on something, determined and resolute.

Eyes on the horizon, mind hooked on that one thing.

It'll come, it'll go, it'll be_ what I got for your near future(?).

Basically, it is going to happen.

Yes, it's in your mind already, boiling inside or freeing you, it'll be real anyways. I don't know what it is though. Literal explanation would be travel, moving, adventure.

Power and freedom_ keywords for you.

I keep seeing a beautiful but extremely focused and serious gaze. You are not playing around.

I think you have prayed or tried to connect with God/universe/universal love, whatever you think or suspect is there. You've been reminiscing, and you're ready. For what, I still don't know. Something is going to happen that will feel relieving.

Someone here is going to recieve a gift that will make them absolutely ecstatic. Something about gold is connected to this. If not ecstatic, then you will at least be content, because I think it will have meaning for you, for most of you, symbolic. Something about wings is also symbolic.

Group 2:

Signs: gold earrings, white flowers, blonde hair, blue eyes, birds, bear, perfumes, roses, flocks of birds, pomegrantes, getting picked up by parents, nostalgia, boyfriend, UK(esp England), Brighton(in England), songbirds, bird sounds in the morning, swamps, creeks, turquoise. ESFJ, ESFP, ISFJ, ENFP, ISTP, ENFJ. Nakshatras: Chitra, Anuradha, Swati, Mula, Ashwini, Punarvasu.

Disclaimer: if this is not resonating, then you can stop reading, but if it is and you think you can take some constructive criticism, then stay.

I am getting the energy of a young girl or a woman who... basically representns "a spoiled brat" archetype. It might have only been a day or an hour or a small phase in the past, but whatever the situation, this is the energy I'm getting.

Also to note two of the nakshatras I listed above, Chitra and Ashwini: negative manifestation of their energies can lead to that behavior.

Anyways, I'm also getting this feeling of bottled up guilt and sadness about to burst.

If you have been cruel to someone and feel like it's way too late to apologize, then you should go do just that. It's either not late at all or the relief after apologizing will be healing in and of itself.

You have to let something out. Give yourself a break if you're feeling shameful. Shame is possibly the worst feeling to experience along with fear. Guilt however, is healthy, and an indicator that you want to change something in yourself.

I keep getting something about pink roses and straight blonde hair. Someone gave you roses? Then I think something went down, a fight or a misunderstanding and then I see that person with blonde hair in a car, bent over, maybe crying, maybe hiding their face from exhaustion.

You may have felt like people around you judged you too much. The truth is, we all have moments where we, unintentionally, do not see the whole picture and act in a way that is not in alognment with our honest, high truth. You probably regret whatever it was, and a lot of the time, the worst judgement comes from ourselves. I think at this point it does not really matter how or why other people judge you, not as much as how you judge yourself and what you think about it, how you feel about that whole thing.

If you have examined it in your head and heart, then you can be calm and make your decision from that state of relative peace.

One message I'm getting is that you should be mindful of not being ignorant of other people's feelings. Confidence is great, arrogance is not.

You should also be mindful of your tendency to get triggered when other people treat you the same way you treat them. You might get defensive and even insult people. Do you have a hard time accepting criticism? Well, it's not always personal, and you better double check before you critisize others.

Some of you are quite young and delight in laughing at others, gossip and/or bullying. It's time to grow out of that, and to start it by recognizing when you are behaving like that. Then, you should probably think about how much of it you like, how much of it is really you, and whether or not you like that about yourself.

A lot of the time young people(or some grown adults) do not recognize when "humor" or a habit is cruel. Sometimes they think they don't care. I think they will.

Reexamine misunderstandings in your life and start a new chapter with a clean page.

If that situation made you feel laughed at, ostricized and hurt, then you're probably not at all like what I've described above. I'm also getting an energy of a minority in this group_ people who feel bullied, misunderstood and stuck in an environment that shrinks them. Like the people who are the majority here, you might also have been like this in the past, but the past is inside you. For you, this is what I want to say: stay pure, stay yourself, love yourself. Know that your beauty, integrity, honesty, purity and worth are not diminished by their ignorance and cruelty in any way. You'll have a chance to get away, grow into someone you knew you always were and were meant to be.

Heal that wound, you should know how to. If not, give yourself space, it'll appear when it'll appear.

I'm restricted from talking too much about this, there's quite a serious energy around this.

I tried to channel a song for you but I'm getting that the song you should listen to is tge one that makes you think or reflect. It's an old song from a band for most of you. It also probably has a memory attached to it, a significant one.

Group 3:

Signs: a cross, earrings, castles, dirt, pikes, valleys, the word "never", tasting desserts, milk cream, angels, supernatural, fairytales, names Cass(Cassie, Cassandra), Penelope(female names beginning eith "Pe-"), red currants and blaccurants, places of worship(abandoned), 377, 435, fantasy, spirituality, books, knowledge, isolation/have been or felt isolated lately, feeling stuck inside yourself, medieval aesthetic, history lover/buff, UK, Ireland, Iceland, British Isles, France, Sweden, Poland, name Astrid, name Delia. ISFP, INFJ, ISTP, ISFJ, ENFP, INFP. Nakshatras: Ashwini, Bharani, Krittika, Rohini, Mrigashira, Punarvasu, Jyeshta.

This is my quester group, the adventurers, if you will.

There's something you're searching for: an answer, a question, the truth.

A lot of you have an insatiable mind and spirit, especially when it comes to knowledge and wandering, but I think none of you can tolerate dictating and people meddling in that process.

You've been feeling soft lately, more vulnerable but, ironally, stronger.

4 a à,Q (I accidently typed this but felt compelled to leave it, so, yeah)

I feel strongly connected to this group😭🙃🤍🤍

"I'm closer, returning".

I think you who's returning, returning somewhere where you feel home. And I think, it's either a really strong and influencial mental/spiritual shift or an actual physical move/travel.

Even if it seems small, it's going to be significant to you.

I think you have been looking for something that is elusive but existing. You have a lot of neural activity in your brain and emotions, you process a lot and are receptive to a lot. Consequently, you know a lot, even things you can't even explain to yourself, nevermind others. You just want an explanation, especially because whatever dots you're trying to connect are having more and more relevance to your life. Either that or it was relevant before and now it's getting relevant again. It this an idea or a concept? Maybe this is a system of thought, a science, it can even be astrology.

You value bravery, honesty to yourself and integrity. This somehow has relevance to you now, or this message.

"Let the wind take you"

I do not know what this is about😭 you might have noticed that I channel random sentences.

I just heard "pay close attention, focus" and I'm almost certain it was directed at me.

"They just want to learn"

😭 so you just want to learn. I get it, I definitely understand you. So how do you make sense of this world?

This is about you gaining some kind of knowledge that you at first don't know what to do with. It's a gift and a burden, like any knowledge, and it's also relevant to you.

Be careful of people who try to limit you or to get you away from what you want to learn. True wisdom is learned through experience and passivity.

I think you like to think in metaphors, aesthetics, stories, associations and feelings. This is never less valid then what most "logical" people consider true. In fact, such thinking is beautiful and valuable and its worth is beyond what "logical"(I'm putting it in quotes cause people who like to call themselves logical often tend to be close minded) people can fathom.

I do think that you are truly logical yourself, but you know the power of feelings and energetically sensing the vibration of people or things. Vibrations are real. Everything vibrates, everything has its energy. The fact that your receptivity is developed enough to pick up on those seemingly insignificant details is magical. This is more common than people suspect. What they label as "vibes" is more than just a vague description. More than that, you live and breathe through that information, you can't help but see through those lenses.

And so, where is the point in all of that? Beauty, and you know that there does not have to be a point.

But I think you'll be validated by whatever knowledge you're about to come across. Make sure not to be swept off by the excitement of things making sense.

Breathe in, breathe out, you don't have a problem with that.

The thing that I think is really beaitiful about you guys is that you do not get lost in mental definitions and know that real life and its mysticism is where everything happens.

I don't think you're into manifestation culture. If you are, you're not going to be stressed out by it anymore, or you'll abandon it.

But I don't think it matters a lot to you anyways. You are quite independent, so, conventions? You effortlessly avoid them.

"Find the truth, the secret lock".

"The base of what happened it out in the world"

"To look into buildings that are barely standing, you'll have to want to realize the truth".

"Something is approaching, the clock is ticking, time does not wait, you are still searching".

"Away from the crowd but among the people"

So take these sentences or leave them, but a little elaboration on the last one: you might strongly dislike big cities or small spaces there, because I just keep seeing green hills, meadows, grass, beautiful daylight, old churches, ruins of castles and churches. Look into the countries I've listed above in signs.

People in those places where you do not feel overwhelmed are your people.

Or they don't have to be, but that's where the "main story", "the action" is for you.

Sybolism in fairytales or fantasy stories or patterns that you find there might reflect your life.

Blessings to you, have a blessed and safe journey, may you fulfill your quest.

Please, let me know which group you chose and if (and how) it resonated.

[meanbossart]

Astarion and Drow's antics are wonderful and I love them ever so. You've mentioned that Drow is effectively immortal (which makes sense; Bhaal had a lot of work planned for him), and eventually, even those two chaos gremlins will figure it out.

Have you ever thought about what that's going to look like? Who do you think will notice first? Will Astarion be happy he won't be alone? Is Drow going to have to figure out what to do with the idea that friends like Shadowheart will die but unless a lot of things go wrong, he won't? ....If he lives long enough for people to invent it, do you think Drow would like Bubble Tea?

Well, it is exceptionally optimistic to assume they will live long enough for that to become apparent, but not impossible!

It's kind of already in DU drow's nature to not contemplate on death at all. He thinks he's immune to it despite having zero knowledge of his own (potentially infinite) lifespan, so, in a way, he already operates as an immortal. Meanwhile, Astarion assumes he will age like a normal drow despite the godly origins, which means he would get a good 800 years outta him - if they don't both perish for some other reason long before that, which is what he's realistically expecting.

Elvish and Drow (the race) aging also works differently depending on the version of the lore which you're looking at - some places say they completely stop physically developing once they hit 25, other versions - BG for one, I think - implies that they do age, but at a much slower pace. I'm of the the school of thought that elves grow up normally until they hit their twenties, and then things gradually slow the hell down, with them eventually start to look like seniors at around 400-500 years old.

SO, if the fellas make it another six centuries, Astarion would definitely take notice of the way DU drow's body isn't really showing any signs of aging. Changes? Sure. His scars would have probably faded into near non-existence and been eventually replaced by new ones, and his skin is still subject to things like sun damage and his body overall isn't the SAME - but it's not necessarily older. I think Astarion would be ecstatic about this revelation, because if they have stayed together for that long, then that probably means that things are still going well - and that he had likely just started to panic a little bit at the prospect of his partner eventually growing old and dying.

As for DU drow, he would be exceptionally nonchalant about the news. Of COURSE he's immortal, it just makes sense that he would be - he's already got plenty of practice taking his own life for granted at that point.

Shadowheart's mortality would be something he had to deal with long before then. With her being a half-elf, her life expectancy is much shorter, at about 150-200 years I believe. DU drow would have seen her age and pass centuries ago by that point. As long as she gets to go peacefully (and all indicates that she probably will) he wouldn't have as difficult of a time grappling with her death - he doesn't like having things or people taken away from him by force, but nature's course is inevitable, and a concept he can actually wrap his head around and even appreciate.

Anyways, he would really like boba tea, but only the chewy kind.

[planet-dusk]

🏷️ mean dom!hyunjin, fuckboy!hyunjin, hyune has a big cock, one pussy slap, orgasm denial, overstim, subspace, pet names: doll, baby

hyunjin bullied himself deeper between your walls, the sound of your drawn-out moans music to his ears.

your hands grabbed at his shoulders, at his arms, searching for anything to hold onto while his thick cock stretched you out in a way you'd never experienced before. after his relentless teasing earlier, bringing you to the brink of orgasm with his fingers and tongue countless times (only to pull back and stop you from tipping over) you weren't sure how much longer you'd be able to hold out for.

"hnng — you-you're bigger than i thought, i'm not sure it'll fit —"

hyunjin grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the bed above your head, wrapping his long fingers around them with ease.

"stop squirming, doll. it's only halfway in. you were the one begging for it earlier."

"that… that was before i knew it was so big," you whined.

"don't say i didn't warn you."

he had warned you. multiple times. talking with his friends about their conquests, laughing at you rolling your eyes. fishermen's tales without a doubt, or so you'd thought. it'd always been hard to tell if he was speaking the truth. there had been a time where you'd thought he could be a lost romantic, with his love for the arts and the books he was always carrying with him. but there was nothing romantic about his addiction to sweet things, burning through them without mercy, throwing them away as soon as they lost their flavor.

it was one of the reasons why you tried to stay away from him. but still you'd ignored all the warning signs when he'd kissed you so sweetly tonight. you'd granted him the one thing you'd vowed you never would: allowing him to consume you.

"do you want me to stop, then?"

you avoided his eyes, fixating on the silver chain dangling from his neck. a long time ago you'd found his love for elegant silver jewellery irritating. as if he tried too hard at his carefully crafted persona. you're not sure when that changed.

"you've always been a shy little thing," hyunjin bend down and brought his face closer to yours. "it's cute. but i need you to tell me what you want, doll. need to hear you beg for it."

you licked your lips. you hated how beautiful he looked even with his hair mussed and his skin coated in sweat. hated how much of a wreck he'd made you. how powerless he made you feel.

how much you liked it.

"because i don't think you want me to stop. look how your pussy is drooling for it — soaked at the thought of being stretched by me. watch what happens when i pull out..."

he rolled his hips back, laughing at the way you tried to tug your wrists out of his grip, your broken whine when he slapped your clit with the head of his cock.

"hyune, please —"

"that's what i thought," he grinned, "i know what you want. you just have to ask nicely."

"w-want your cock, please, want it all," you whispered, heat spreading through your body, mortified by the admission. who knew how many women had been in this exact position before — on someone else's bed, loud music still playing downstairs while hyunjin made them beg for his cock. somehow it would've been better if he'd just taken it from you, no questions asked, only hushed moans and whimpers in the dark.

his satisfied smile told you he knew. he knew, and he loved every second of it.

but what he loved even more was the raw, unfiltered moan you let out when he forced his cock in fully, watching your eyes widen in realization:

"f-fuck, i'm - i think i'm —"

"are you really going to cum from me just putting it in? fuck baby, you're really that desperate, aren't you? poor little thing," he pulled out completely and slapped your cunt with his free hand, "if you're going to cum now you'll be in for a long night." he rubbed his fingers through the mess between your legs, arousal sticking to his skin.

after the earlier denial you were hurling towards your peak embarrassingly fast, and when he pushed back in you clenched around his cock in waves of pleasure, hips bucking into his. you sobbed when he started moving, unsure of where your body stopped and his began.

"'s too much, please, hyune…"

hyunjin let go of your wrists and pulled you closer, bending your knees and kissing the salty tears off your cheeks. you felt yourself slipping away into a floaty haze, the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you the only thing that mattered.

"don't worry, i'm not done with you yet, doll," hyunjin murmured. "we're just getting started."

[emeraldserenade]

Hello! Could you write a fic about Joaquín’s girlfriend getting jealous and a little upset about a female Avenger (whoever is fine) getting too close and flirty at a work event and it being reported on/posted on social media? 🫶🏾 thank you! ☺️

Misunderstandings ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: pictures of Joaquín and Yelena huddled together get published while you're at work

tw: fem!reader, limited use of y/n, none?, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

I am so sorry for the long wait, but I hope this is what you wanted.

➽──────────────❥

You knew Yelena Belova meant no harm, that the pictures were taken out of context. Yet, you couldn't help but feel that sting of jealousy when you saw the paparazzi pictures of her and Joaquín huddled together and smiling. You hadn't seen him since the photos came out, he was at work and you were at yours. It wouldn't take long for him to get there, granted that would mean he saw the photos. You wouldn't put it pass him to ignore his phone blowing up unless he thought it was you.

"Y/n?" Simon, your boss, called for you. You walked into the back of the store to his office as he called you over.

"Yes, Mr. Gil?" You leaned against the wall, you knew weren't in trouble.

"I wanted to ask if you were ok, my granddaughter sent me those photos of your boyfriend and the blonde," Simon questioned and you nodded.

"I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding," you informed him.

"Y/n, you're basically my granddaughter. Please do no lie to me," he leveled you with a look that can only be mastered after years of practice.

"I'm ok, I promise," you nodded.

"Either way, you're going home. I already called in Maddie to take your place," he shoo'd you out and Maddie walked in. You waved at her as she said hi to her grandfather before grabbing your things and leaving.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You didn't go home right away, you decided to spend some time going around town. You got a drink from your favorite coffee shop and went to some of your favorite shops, you bought some clothes at the thrift shops. You've been ignoring your phone, sure it was just people asking about the photos since Joaquín would still be at work and most likely hadn't seen the photos. You finally made it home a few hours later, you parked your car in your usual spot and made your way up to the apartment.

If you had been paying more attention on the way up, you would have noticed the haphazard way Joaquín had parked his car, the multiple messages and calls from him, the way the decorations on your apartment door were slightly ajar. And if you were paying more attention on your way in, you would have heard the frantic whispers of Joaquín trying to call you for the hundredth time that day.

"Joaquín?" You put your bags down on the kitchen table when you saw him pacing the living room.

"Angel," he breathed out and rushed to you, pulling you into his arms.

"What are you doing home so early?" You questioned as you pulled back, you finally noticed the tears that were streaming down his face and quickly reached up to brush them away. "Why are you crying, my love?"

"I thought you were mad at me," he admitted, his hold shifting to your waist.

"I'm not mad, why would I be mad?"

"The pictures, I've been trying to contact you all day," he told you and you gave him a guilty look.

"Oh, I thought that was other people going to ask about the pictures. I didn't realize it was you and it didn't even cross my mind that it could have been you," you told him and you could see him finally relax. "Wait, why were you so close with Yelena?" You questioned and you saw Joaquín stiffed again. He shifted on his feet while mumbling something and you took a step back. "Joaquín?"

"It's not what you think!" He quickly told you once he realized that you were slowly moving away from him. "I just," he paused and glanced around before slowly reaching into his pocket. "I was showing her this," he held a small box in his hand and your eyes widened. He went to open it but you quickly put your hands over his.

"No, keep it closed," you rushed out. "I'll wait until whatever you have planned," you told him, pushing his hands down.

"You aren't mad?"

"I never was," you told him, smiling as he hugged you.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests

[avidfics]

Vi breaks out of the friendzone

Summary: Vi doesn’t have the best reputation. Perhaps that’s why you've shoved her in the friendzone for the past year. But your girlfriend just broke your heart, and Vi isn’t above using your emotional state to get closer to you. / Vi comes over to comfort you after your gf cheats and somehow you two end up in bed.  

R/N +TW: I haven’t written for Vi in sooo long. Also thanks to all those showing love to my lil blurbs :) Story has a bit of spice (kissing, oogling boobs, bit of foul language) and is f/f.

A car honk jerked Vi out of her jumbled thoughts and nearly caused her motorcycle to swerve dangerously on the two-lane road. Granted, she was a bit zoned out when she should’ve been focused, but she still threw the minivan behind her the middle finger before speeding off down the street at breakneck speed just to reach you. 

Ten minutes ago, she was laid up in bed with her latest fling when she saw “Bbygrl” flash across the caller ID of her cell. She damn near popped her shoulder out its socket by how fast she reached to answer the phone, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit how her phone was pressed against her cheek and shoulder even as her pussy hovered inches over a girl’s mouth, seconds from getting ate out. For a slim second she considered riding the the girl’s tongue while listening to the sound of your sweet voice since that’s the closest she’d ever be to the real thing. But her hips paused in midair at the sound of your heartbreaking sobs coming through the phone. In between the incoherent babble, she did hear the part where you found out your girlfriend had been cheating on you and had stormed out. Now you begged your friend for a ride home. 

As Vi’s motorcycle rounded the final corner at illegal speeds, she tried to suppress the smug grin tugging on her face. Your asshole of a girlfriend had finally royally screwed herself in the ass and with her massive mistake had left a gaping emotional opening that Vi had been dying to occupy ever since you two had become friends. An arrogant chuckle came from her lips as she skidded her motorcycle to a stop in the driveway, streaking the pristine concrete with large, obnoxious black tread marks. Fucking Maddie will have no doubt who it was who visited her house when she returned from wherever the hell she fled to. 

Vi’s fist pounded on the door before she shoved her hands into the pockets of her dark-rinsed jeans, a flicker of nerves creeping in at the thought of seeing her girl. Sure enough, her heart jackhammers in her chest at the sight of you opening the door in a white oversized shirt with a deep cut out that plunged into your cleavage, tiny itty bitty cotton shorts that left the globes of your ass peeking out, and white socks cupping your feet and up your calves. 

Her hand drags over her face just to stop herself from saying something highly inappropriate and downright filthy. 

“Yeah,” she thought, “fucking Maddie is not going to like what’s about to happen in her house.” 

“Violet!” Without a second thought you threw your arms around Vi’s neck. “I can’t believe she was texting some hoe from work for months.” Emotionally, you were an absolute wreck after your girlfriend flipped out when you accused her of cheating. If it wasn’t for your dependable friend, Vi, you’d still be sprawled out on the bedroom floor as you used Maddie’s t-shirt you were wearing to soak up the onslaught of anguished tears. Vi had been a solid friend for over a year, and being wrapped in her arms immediately made you feel centered and taken care of in your vulnerable state.

God, Vi was happy she didn’t have an actual dick otherwise you’d see the full extent your vulnerable state was wrecking on her hormones. She was trying her best not to be a complete shit by being controlled by desire, but shit, you weren’t even wearing a damn bra. The harder you squeezed, the deeper she could feel your sweet tits pressing into her chest. Internally, she groaned with deep-seated agony as she gently pushed you away just enough to look at your face to determine if this delicious torture was intentional. If maybe there was the tiniest possibility that her shy girl was actually making a move.

With a swift scan, Vi knew it was only her deluded imagination. Through soft swollen eyes and wet eyelashes your wide doe-eyes glisten at her with such sincerity it made Vi have equal parts rage at your idiotic, soon to be ex, girlfriend and lust. 

Cute, choppy sniffles refocused Vi’s attention back to the fact that you’re both still standing in the entryway. “Let me get my shoes and we can get out of here,” you said. Slouched shoulders followed you as you walked quickly to grab your shoes but the slam of the door closing made you jump. Vi’s prowls over to you from behind, a playful glint reflecting in her magnetic blue eyes. “What’s the rush in leaving? Seems rude for us to leave fucking Maddie’s house without a goodbye gift.” Plus, you were adorably naive if you thought you’d get onto her bike with the tiniest bit of clothing covering your legs. 

A flood of relief washes over Vi at the girlish chuckle you give as you observe Vi who leisurely saunters through your girlfriend’s place, judging her decorations with an unimpressed attitude. “Her name isn’t “Fucking Maddie” it’s just Maddie,” you playfully scold.

“Sounds the same to me, babe. And can you explain why she has all this god-awful artwork in here?” The painting in question was a stark white canvas with a burnt orange triangle painted in the middle. “What fucking idiot would buy this pretentious piece of shit with actual money?”

Despite the situation, you start to giggle. “My guess would be the artist.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” It takes another second before realization dawn’s on Vi’s face. “Fucking Maddie is the artist? Of course she is.” The two of you fall against each other laughing so hard you both fold over. “So tell me, which one of her things should we destroy first? And don’t try to get out of it. We aren’t leaving her place until something is burned, torn, or vandalized. Your choice on which sweetheart.”

There was no way you’d have the heart to destroy your girlfriend’s house. You were scandalized at the mere thought. “Violet, that’s literally illegal! While I’m sure you’d make prison orange look unfairly hot, I’d rather not risk life behind bars.” 

A challenging grin crossed Vi’s face. “You think I’m hot?” The flustered look on your face was planting salacious ideas in Vi’s mind. Looking you square in the eyes, she took the flimsy waistband strings of your cotton shorts in her grip and began wrapping them around her palm until they resembled the white wrappings Vi used for boxing. Something at the bottom of your stomach quivered dangerously at the first tug your friend gave. “Wait, Vi, we have to leave. Maddie wouldn’t like you in her bedroom.” None of your pleads stopped Vi from striding into the bedroom, with poor you unwillingly in tow and kicking her boots off with careless abandon. 

Vi jaw tightens as she takes a look around the room and find how intwined you’ve become in fucking Maddie’s space. Even notes of your perfume hung in the air and teased her nostrils. With your strings still in her controlling grip, you’re pulled to the freshly made bed and shoved onto the mattress with enough force that you bounce a few times in the air, making Vi’s mouth tighten at the distracting sight of your thighs as they jiggle. 

Your wide, shocked eyes flare up at Vi, who stands above you with flexed arms crossed - unimpressed with the flare of attitude you’re showing. “Get it through your pretty but thick head. Your ass ain't leaving this room until you rage out and destroy something.” 

Muffled, you mock her crossed arms and pout a bit. Not nearly the imposing impression of your close friend. “Not everyone feels the need to ‘rage out’ when things don’t go their way. We had only been dating for a few months anyways. It’s not that big a deal that she messed with a new girl. I’ve kinda been letting myself go for a while, so it’s not her fault I guess.” Vi’s whole face recoiled at the complete bullshit sprouting out your sweet lips. And she wasn’t shy about saying it. “Bullshiiiiit.” she drags. “Fucking Maddie wouldn’t know how to treat an angel like you even if she was given a textbook for dummies. Don’t let her stupidity make you forget you were the best thing to happen in her miserable life.” 

Relaxing her arms, she squats down between your legs to get closer to you. “Besides you’re not the only one in this room who is annoyed with your girlfriend.” Your eyebrows furrow at that revelation. “Cut the act and don’t pretend like I didn’t ask you out way before you started dating the ginger.” Your mouth dropped at the sudden reminder. Vi just grinned, pressed your lips closed, and continued with a self-deprecating shrug. “I guess I cant fault you since my reputation is pretty terrible.” 

As effortless as slipping bait onto a hook, reeling in her simple-minded girl was almost laughably too easy. “Vi, God no, I could care less about what other people gossip about you.“ It took immerse grit to hide her delight at where this conversation was soon headed. “Yeah? How about you prove it for me?” 

You weren’t sure when Vi’s face appeared only centimeters away from your face, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was how tempting her lips were looking in the dim lighting of the room. None of this went unnoticed by VI’s fierce gaze, which was trained on your every expression and caught your timid nod. 

That tiny nod was like the gates of heaven opening up. A guttural “Come here” was commanded before Vi grasped your sensitive nape, pulling you to meet her eager lips. Your meek movements followed Vi’s assertive lead and soon became swept up in it’s consuming heat. 

Vi tried her best not to rush it, but it was like applying the brakes to a full-speed train—after all, these few moments of nirvana had been a year in the making. 

A tiny moan slips past your lips as she gently prys your lips open with her tongue, and whatever flimsy restraint Vi had built over months was shattered. Vi’s hands roam down your tingling spine, fingers pressing into the soft curves of your hips and ass as she shifts, rising to hoist you higher up the bed, all while your mouths try desperately to stay connected. 

The world tilts, a blur of heat and movement, and before your scattered thoughts can catch up, she’s there—her body heavy and solid as it settles against yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. Vi watches your eyes screw closed tight as she strategically presses her jean-clad thigh up against your thinly covered pussy. Luckily, you don’t see the satisfied smirk that she quickly hides by pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck. 

“Pretty girl, you never picked which item to destroy. Guess, since I’m such a good friend I’ll have to help you, huh?” A few soft, “Nooo, Vi” are unconvincingly pleaded, but Vi silences them with the foreign touch of her thumb skimming the inside your itty bitty shorts. All of your conflicting thoughts are visible across your face, but your deep-seated need to have your friend’s fingers much closer to your needy warmth was the most demanding and broke through to the surface. “Please, Vi. Need you to touch me.” 

The only answer is a nonchalant “hum” as she glares at fucking Maddie’s flimsy, see-through t-shirt that you still wore without a damn bra. With a light touch, her fingertips trace up your sides and faintly round the outer edges of your breasts. All of the blood in Vi’s body shoots to her clit as she scoops up your boobs through the t-shirt and simply stares at them through the see-through material. Jiggling them like her new favorite toy. A heavy pause is felt in the air as Vi holds eye contact with you as she lowers her head and covers your nipple through the thin material and sucks. Vi moans at the full jerk response you give as your head is thrown back into the mattress. “Ah, ah, ah, shit Vi.” 

Mentally Vi was also cursing at the heady feeling of your tit in her mouth, even if it is through the cheap material. She dreamed of this for a whole freaking year. Just to prove it wasn’t a dream she had to pinch something… You yell a chorus filled with her name as your other poor, neglected nipple is pinched hard and completely black out when it’s twisted. You only hear the resounding wet, “Pop!” of Vi releasing your breast. “What a baby.” She taunts before switching and doing the same thing to the other boob. Between you withering against her thigh and her torturing your breast by the time her fingers lightly circle your soaked cunt it takes an embarrassing amount of seconds for your body to go into full-born shakes as you cum. 

On her knees above you, Vi smiles triumphantly at the visual of you sprawled listlessly across your cheating girlfriend's bed with Maddie’s t-shirt debauched with Vi’s saliva, lewdly showing your taunt, abused nipples. As you come back to the land of the living with bleary eyes, Vi has hopped off the bed, rummaging through your drawer. When you fully register what's happening, she’s slipping a fresh shirt over your head, tossing you a wink as she smooths out the fabric. “Leave the shirt here for your girlfriend. It’s beyond repair.”

[wonwoonlight]

when you're fighting and jeonghan takes things a little too far.

A/n: just some random words vomit. As always, idk what this is🫶🏻

You don't like fighting with Jeonghan because of obvious reasons. Then again, who actually likes fighting with their significant other?

But you don't like fighting with Jeonghan because it's eerie silence and cold shoulders. It's you two, the most hard headed people on the planet trying to outlast the other. It's a battle of pride and it always ends with you eventually giving in to his apology regardless of how upset you actually are.

Of course there are times when you're in the wrong. But you apologize pretty quickly when it's on you, unlike Jeonghan who deems it necessary to fight first and apologize later when you're even more upset than you initially were for obvious reasons.

You always give in because you love him and you don't like the fact that you're not talking to him.

Apparently, Jeonghan is a little too comfortable with that fact and he may have taken you a little for granted, pushing your buttons further even when you have sternly told him that you're not comfortable with the fact that he's meeting up with his ex-girlfriend that he dated for five long years–which is more time than the entirety of the period you've known Jeonghan to begin with.

Perhaps it comes from a place of insecurity. But the ex texts him out of nowhere at one in the morning, pretty much sober from the way she has texted him, and he’s ready to just okay-ed her invitation to join her in some pub because, apparently, she sounds sad and it seems like she needs someone to talk to. That he worries she might be by herself at this hour because, according to the information that you don't fucking need, she tends to be reckless at ungodly hours.

You offer to go with him, understanding where his worries might come from and is actually glad that he knows the world isn't kind to unsuspecting women, even more at these hours. A little proud also that he's trying to do something about it.

But Jeonghan, for some reason unknown to you, decides that you coming with him wouldn't be necessary. And the talk spirals much too far away to the point where he's annoyed and he's giving you an attitude about you not trusting him and et cetera et cetera.

"Fine." You give up, resigning yourself to the ugly feeling in the pit of your stomach. You can't even look at Jeonghan right now. You don't understand why the two of you are even fighting about this. Is it that important for him to go see his ex? Or are you really being as unreasonable as Jeonghan is trying to make you be? But you're upset and apparently that's not enough for Jeonghan to relent. "Whatever. Go if that's what you want."

"What–" He doesn't even get to finish his sentence, because you already turn away to return into your shared room, not minding whatever he might have to say. You never do this, and as much as it pains him to admit that he might've taken things a little too far, he didn't realize that it is to the point where you'll retort to this.

You don't even look up when he calls you, doesn't try to listen to whatever he has to say and simply acts like he doesn't exist. You'd usually at least react to what he has to say, but right now you don't even look like you're upset, which scares him even more.

He's been on the receiving ends of your silent treatments, which he actually admits is on him, but you would usually still look at him, still look like you're listening to him. Which is how he's always been able to make you forgive him.

He knows what to do when you're annoyed, when you're sad and upset. But this?

This is a new territory that he doesn't know how to thread. He'd usually ignore you back, a little too prideful and too childish to admit that he's wrong. But he can tell that this isn't like the usual silent treatment you've given him before.

Fine. A single word that's not fine at all and still rings in his head right now because you never sound like that.

Like you're done with him.

"Baby, please…"

You continue to ignore him, playing with your phone and obviously texting someone that he hopes isn't about him.

"I'm… I'm not going, okay? I'm sorry." He admits in record time. "I don't even… I'm sorry. I don't want to give excuses. I've upset you and I'm sorry I didn't listen to you."

Jeonghan sees your fingers pause, which at least he presumes means you're listening to him. He kneels beside you on the bed, glad that you're not rejecting his presence. He reaches for your fingers, and you let him as he cradles them inside his palms and takes a deep breath.

"Don't…" He exhales before he opens his eyes, catching yours and breathes the next words like it's a secret. "Don't let go of me?"

"What?" You ask, startled and caught off guard at the sudden change of topic. "Where did you even get the idea? Han, I'm not breaking up with you."

"You just…" You pull his fingers, asking him to sit next to you on the bed which he immediately complies to. He buries himself in your neck almost immediately, and suddenly it's you comforting him instead of the other way around. "You sound done with me and I can't get that out of my head."

You sigh, your fingers combing through his hair to calm him down.

"We'll talk about it later, okay?"

"I love you. You know that, right?"

"I love you too, Han."

He buries himself further into your embrace.

[zico-if]

This story is not one, where at the end, you find yourself surrounded by your loved ones. No, this is a one of how you die.

[ DEMO - tba ]

Ever since the death of your parents by those who'd been sworn to protect you, there has been something inexplicably wrong with you.

At first, they were just headaches—small manageable aches, even at their worst. But then came the voice. A voice that wasn't yours, whispering things you couldn't possibly know, helping you do things no one should be able to do.

Everything about you was just...wrong.

But then you were saved, taken in by people who gave you shelter and taught you control. And over time, that voice became nothing more than a whisper, offering you insights when you least expect it.

You became a scalpel in their organization, an invaluable asset who cut away whatever rot they pointed you to, and you did so without question.

That is, until one day a job lands you in hot water and the next thing you know, you're told to cut the rot that lies a little too close to the heart. Suddenly, the truth becomes lies, friends turn to foes, and the fine line between loyalty and betrayal begins to blur.

That begs the question: just how far are you willing to go to cut out that rot before it spreads?

Become a vessel for an Eldritch that grants you abilities like no other, yet endure the consequences that follows it.

Customise your vessel, including their pronouns, identity and physical appearance.

Romance 1 of 4 options: the rot, the grace, the protector or the stranger.

Confront old friends, create new foes, run some errands and try not to die while doing any of it.

Pluck at the fraying strands of your mind. Teeter to the edge of Insanity.

Trust that no one is who they say they are.

And most importantly: Abandon All Hope.

The Rot: Ilya Roson [m/f/nb] - romanceable by all MCs.

A person who you've long since thought was gone. They've betrayed you once and they've come to do it again. Then again, betrayal requires trust in the first place and you've since learned your lesson from the first time.

The Grace: Vira Duval [f] - romanceable by nb!MCs and f!MCs only.

She is beauty, she is grace, yet monstrous all the same. There is something about her that strikes you: the scars that creep from beneath her neck line, the cold calculation in her eyes. She is more than the Blueblood you think she is.

The Protector: Aurius Duval [m] - romanceable by all MCs.

A scion of everything you've come to hate, he dares to call himself a protector—a shield to the people above all else. While he is kind and polite, you can't help but see the blood that he carries on his hands...even though you carry more on yours.

The Stranger: Rhian Scott [m/f/nb] - romanceable by all MCs.

They are the trouble that follows you, the herald of misfortune. Why is it that every time they're near, something always goes wrong? Is it the charm, leeching all the luck you have to fuel it? Or is it maybe that they are just not the friend they claim to be?

The Night Abridged is rated 18+ for violence, strong language, blood & gore, sexual content and more.

Hello, my lovelies. Here is a new intro post for the remake of The Night Abridged, reblogs are much appreciated :)

[jina-juhi]

Feels like

you can love again.

Pairing : Johnny × fem!reader

Rating : 18+

warning: smut with plot, protected sex, i tried fluff? fluffy sex? and heart break. and basically all things sex. oh alcoholism. cute sex? plus doggy style plus face sitting:) oral m/f

word count : 4.5k

summary : I could fuck you, right here, right now, but only if you'd ask.

[if you wanna skip to the smut part just go straight down]

Playlist

all too well, Taylor Swift

you heard me, Heather Sommer

1 step forward, 3 steps back, Olivia rodrigo

graveyard, halsey

right where you left me, taylor swift

wouldn't come back, Trousdale

ghost of you, Selena Gomez

company, Justin Bieber

yours, Raiden

crushing, illenium

begin again, Taylor Swift

feels like, Gracie Abraham

link

When all is said and done, and the person you loved is no longer there, what's left to do? How do you cope when you've given your all, only to find yourself empty, a mere shell of your former self? It's like being left with nothing but bones and muscles, a broken machine barely keeping you going.

So, how do you restart? How do you function when they've taken everything and left you with nothing? How do you shift your mindset to believe that this is all for the better? And most daunting of all, how do you open your heart to love again?

It feels like trying to breathe without air, as if the very essence of life has deserted you, leaving behind a jagged landscape of shattered pieces. It's dangerous to get too close to those sharp edges, so you stand alone and don't let anyone close. Trying to find yourself again.

Stand alone and contemplate what you've gotten yourself into and what you've done to yourself. How could you have ignored the warning signs? They were crystal clear. How could you have not predicted it? Too innocent.

Too gullible to let him in.

Thinking about it now feels pointless. "He was a nice guy, but he was too caught up in himself. He never really saw me. He claimed he did, but I never felt truly understood," you confide while he brews your coffee.

"I never felt loved by him," you add, as he sets the mugs on the counter—one for each of you. It's a chilly evening, and the cafe where he works is quieter than usual. You're a regular here; it feels like a safe haven, a place where you can find comfort in familiarity. You accept your coffee in silence, opting not to say more.

"Take a deep breath," he urges, his voice gentle as he nods, trying to seem strong and supportive. "How?" you reply absentmindedly, staring out the window where the fog thickens by the second. The ache in your heart grows, and despair overwhelms you as you fall back into the familiar trap of negative thoughts.

"He wasn't giving you what you needed. You shouldn't have to beg for love. Believe me when I say it's for the best that he's gone." He says.

"I loved him."

"You did, Maybe you still do, but people change," he interjects gently, his gaze fixed on the coffee between you, his words carefully chosen. "In different ways. You may have promised forever, but forever is a long time. Sometimes you grow together, and sometimes... you grow apart. It's nobody's fault in the end. You just drift away, lose that connection, maybe take each other for granted, and before you know it, the fights start."

His voice falters slightly, betraying the depth of his emotions. "I know it might not make sense right now, but what I'm trying to say is... you deserved more than what he could give you. Trust me, you're better off without him."

You inhale deeply, shaking your head in resignation. Raindrops cascade down the window, distorting the glow of the city lights outside. His words echo in your mind, and as you take another sip of coffee, its comforting aroma envelops you. Yes, he's right. You're undeniably better off without him, yet the ache lingers.

Why does it still hurt, months after the breakup? Why does the pain persist, stubbornly refusing to fade away? Days blur into months, but the heartache remains a constant companion. People change, move on. But the pain always stays. It gets a little better each day. You learn to accept. You learn to love yourself. Yet, just when you think you've moved on, something triggers that familiar ache, dragging you back to square one.

But life doesn't pause for heartache. Despite the pain, the world keeps spinning, and you move forward, one step forward and three steps back, hating, crying, wanting, but never stopping.

~~~

A year and almost a half have passed since then. Things have been getting better. The clouds are clearing up, leaving behind a little less hurt and a lot more clarity. There's a sense of hold, of something stirring within—gratefulness, perhaps, or hope. Or maybe its the sound of a familiar ring at the door. You turn around to see a familiar face, a smile lighting up your face as you recognize Johnny.

"A latte, please," you say as he approaches, his presence bringing a comforting warmth to the room. Johnny nods, his gentle demeanor never faltering as he starts to brew your coffee. Johnny's a gentleman, and a law student. He works part-time in this cafe, not because he's broke or anything. He simply lives the high life. Gym first, then college, and then in the cafe followed by late nights of studying. He's a quiet guy who keeps to himself. Disciplined and courteous. Doesn't really like to waste his time on the things undeserving of his attention.

Your friendship with Johnny began in this very place. You remember it must have been around 10 o'clock at night, you had just split up with your ex. It was a stormy night, It felt like the world was collapsing around you and someone was sucking the breath out of your lungs, alone and broken, you found this cafe nearby. The rain was pouring nonstop, so you decide to take refuge, sitting in the corner, your tears flow with the raindrops tapping against the windowpane.

Jhonny brings you a cup of coffee and a napkin with words of reassurance, "It'll be okay, just hold on."

He saw you when you felt invisible to the world, and he understood you when no one else could. In Johnny, you found not just a friend, but a shimmer of light in your darkest moments.

You still have that note.

Jhonny could hardly fathom the possibility of falling in love, especially with someone as uniquely eccentric as you. Little did he know, his heart had already been quietly captivated by your presence over the passing months. As you walked through that door, disheveled and drenched from the rain, the only word that echoed in his mind was "beautiful." From that moment on, an unspoken longing stirred within him, urging him to reach out and connect with you. He extended that napkin, not just to offer solace, but as a gesture of his desire to understand you, to unravel the mysteries you hide behind those smiles. There was an enigmatic force pulling him toward you, compelling him to take that first step.

You became a regular at the café, grateful for Johnny's caring nature. It seemed like nobody else noticed you like he did. Unintentionally, Johnny had fallen deeply in love with you over the past few months. He paid attention to everything about you - your likes, dislikes, comfort songs, and movies you could watch a 100 times.

He became your confidance, your best friend, always there when you needed him. Watching you cry over someone unworthy filled him with the desire to show you wat true love actually is. Late at night, he found himself thinking about you, wondering if you were okay, if you had eaten, or if you were thinking of him. He felt your sadness as if it were his own and rejoiced in your happiness. But despite his feelings, he couldn't bring himself to confess his love.

Simply put, Johnny wanted you. He wanted to show you what true love was, and that no girl deserved to be treated the way you were, left alone in the middle of nowhere, weeping in the pouring rain. Hearing about your past hurt him, but it also revealed your strength and resilience, which only made him love you more. He wasn't drawn to the roses and smiles you showed the world; he was captivated by the scars and bruises you tried to hide.

The more Johnny got to know you, the deeper he fell.

However, he made a conscious decision to hold back because he didn't want to become a rebound love. Instead, he wished for you to heal from the wounds of your past relationship, to move forward and see him for who he truly was, not just as a replacement for what your ex lacked.

He longed for the day when you would accept him completely, with no remains of the past clouding your judgment. So, he waited patiently, hoping for your heart to mend. Hoping for you to let go. Hoping for you to see him.

Time passed away, six months turned into a year, yet you still struggled to let go completely. Though it was getting better, the ghost of your past still lingered, haunting your thoughts and emotions.

How could you not feel shattered? Johnny was just too good for you, too kind. But when you've been hurt before, love becomes terrifying. Trying to piece things together while pretending to be okay is exhausting. It's hard to focus on anything when you're struggling to keep it together. Knowing you love someone and they love you back, yet being unable to fully embrace it because you're afraid of losing them, of getting hurt again - it's paralyzing.

And then there's the guilt. Even though your past relationship ended a year ago, the promises made still weigh heavily on your conscience. How do you reconcile having Johnny in your thoughts while someone else occupies a part of your heart? It feels unfair to him, but you can't shake the feeling.

How are you supposed to let go and move forward when your heart is still stuck in the past? People say "move on" like it's easy, it's anything but easy. It feels like an impossible task, especially when nobody seems to understand what you're going through.

Except for him. Johnny. He understands.

It's so damn difficult," you thought to yourself, feeling the weight of your emotions. Letting go seemed like the simplest solution, but in reality, it was anything but easy. As Johnny led you towards his flat, the thought lingered at the back of your mind.

He mentioned the party he was hosting with his friends at him appartment, someone got a job or something. The atmosphere inside was luxurious, yet simple. with crimson sofas exuding a regal aura in the soft golden light. The air was filled with the sweet scent of vanilla candles and the sound of champagne being poured, it was cozy.

The gathering was intimate, with only the chosen few invited. Amidst the fancy party, all you could think about was Johnny. You wanted to tell him how you felt, that you'd fallen for him too, about the guilt that shouldn't be feeling. Johnny was the best guy you'd ever met, and you couldn't just let him go because you were scared. Even though your past hasn't been great, you didn't want to hurt him because you knew he loved you too. Since the day you met, he's been there for you. And he still is, always there in every little thing. It feels like you're stuck in between, torn between your feelings for him and the uncertainty.

As Johnny left momentarily, you found yourself walking towards the balcony, away from the small talk and pretense inside, with a bottle of champagne. all you needed was a stunning view of the city's glittering skyscrapers, illuminated by the twinkling lights.

You craved peace of mind, a moment to quiet the storm raging within you. Being around Johnny, even for just an hour, had a profound effect on you, all the thoughts and insecurities on one side, and all the feelings of desire and lust, unlike anything you've ever experienced before.

There was no rush of blood and getting all hot and bothered every time your prior partner looked at you. You would never have felt this shy and nervous in his presence. Yes, there was attraction, but nothing like this, but with Johnny, it is the exact opposite. His mere presence left you weak-kneed and breathless, yearning to surrender to the intoxicating pull between you. He awakens you. He makes you want to succumb to him, give into him.

Yes, you yearn to experience the warmth of love, to be cherished and valued in return. And perhaps, deep down, you crave these feelings from Johnny, who has shown himself to be both kind and breathtakingly amazing. The way he gazes at you speaks volumes about his feelings for you.

It's confusing, isn't it? Frightening even. Because all you've ever known about Love is that it breaks and burns and ends, yet here you are, falling for Johnny despite your fears. It's a terrifying feeling, but there's something about it that makes you want to continue. Makes you want to keep dreaming. But you're afraid to confess your feelings, terrified that you'll only end up hurting Johnny in the process. It's hard to find the words, to admit to yourself, let alone to him, that you're falling for him. But despite the uncertainty and the fear, there's an urge within you, a desire to reach out and claim him for your own. All you want is to grab his face, to feel his lips against yours, and to lose yourself in the sweetness of his embrace.

Hard.

And never let him go. You've been thinking about it, about you. And him. And since, you've been moving on, you've been trying to forget and forgive and embrace and accept. You have come to a conclusion that amidst all the chaos, Johnny was the only one there. And that you have hopelessly fallen in love with him.

~~~

Hey," he says, joining you on the balcony, "you're standing alone?"

"Hey jj," you reply, meeting his gaze.

"You call me 'jj' when you're happy," he remarks, puzzled because your tone isn't cheerful.

"I guess I'm happy, sort of. It's been a while, but it feels good," you admit, looking at him standing beside you. He smiles, his eyes filled with happiness. He's genuinely pleased for you.

"That's great," he says with genuine enthusiasm. "Actually, that's fantastic."

He eyes the glass of alcohol in your hand. "Can I have that glass, though?"

That's great," he says with genuine enthusiasm. "Actually, that's fantastic."

He eyes the glass of alcohol in your hand. "Can I have that glass, though?"

"Nope, I'm having a pretty good time," you say, pulling the glass away from him. He noticed a whole bottle nearby on the floor. "I think you've had enough for the night, darling."

darling.

Even in the dim light, Johnny couldn't miss the blush spreading across your cheeks. He's skilled at noticing your reactions and knows how to tease you.

Trying to steer the conversation away from any awkwardness, you say, "So I was thinking..."

"About?" he interjects playfully, trying to provoke a response.

"Everything that's happened, you know, with my ex, and then with you," you begin, but he interrupts.

"Oh, nothing happened between us, as far as I can remember... unless..." he trails off, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"That's not what I meant," you quickly clarify.

"Okay, okay, just kidding. But I kinda wish you did mean it," he mutters under his breath, a smirk forming on his face.

You feel your thoughts becoming fuzzy as you both dance around the topic. Usually, your brain would shut down any such ideas, but tonight feels different. Instead of being repelled, you feel drawn to him, wanting something you've suppressed for so long.

Despite trying to hold back, you find yourself unable to think of anything else.

As the alcohol courses through your veins, emboldening your desires, you find yourself unable to resist the urge to ask him what has been in your mind for quite a long time, and so you ask "If I were to ask for a kiss, would you kiss me? Right here, right now?"

The intensity in his gaze heightens, his pupils dilating as his demeanor shifts, becoming more serious. "Ask me," he demands, his jaw clenched with anticipation. His eyes linger on your lips before locking onto yours, a silent plea echoing within them.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, you turn away, feeling a rush of emotions flooding your senses. With a deep breath, you struggle to compose yourself, but before you can respond, he chuckles softly. "I knew you didn't have the nerve," he remarks, his tone teasing yet tinged with disappointment. Meeting his gaze once more, you're taken aback by his confidence. As he straightens himself and takes a sip of his drink, his words hang heavily in the air. "I don't know how much longer I can wait for you," he confesses, his voice low and filled with longing, "but if you were to ask me to fuck you right here, right now, I wouldn't even think once." With that declaration, practically deadpanned on your face, he goes inside the flat, leaving you to grapple with your miserable self.

~~~

The night after that seemed to stretch endlessly, a void you couldn't escape. Frustration and regret gnawed at your mind, You turned to more alcohol, a fleeting attempt to numb the pain within, but it only amplified the train of thoughts swirling in your head.

As you sat alone on the balcony, the chilly night air enveloped you, matching the coldness you felt inside. Time lost its meaning, slipping through your fingers as you drowned in a sea of overthinking. Every possible scenario played out in your mind like a relentless storm, each outcome more daunting than the last. What could have happened if you could have just said.

Johnny appears through the doorframe. His presence was unexpected, you thought he was mad yet oddly comforting, a reminder that you weren't completely alone in this chaotic night. "Will you spend the whole night here?" he asked, concern etched in his voice. But you were too lost in your own thoughts to fully grasp his words.

Refusing to retreat from your self-imposed exile, you remained rooted to the spot, the numbness spreading through your limbs. Yet Johnny persisted, his care evident as he gently coaxed you back inside. "It's cold. Come inside, everybody left already," he urged, worry evident in his eyes.

Too weary to resist, you allowed him to guide you indoors, his touch grounding you in reality. As he settled you into his bed, a wave of familiarity washed over you, a stark reminder of the times you'd been here before, always on the edge of leaving. You had been here countless times, yet never truly stayed. But tonight was different. Tonight, you found yourself unable to muster the strength to leave, surrendering to the comfort of his presence, if only for a fleeting moment.

As he guided you to sit on the edge of the bed, you instinctively reached out, clinging to his shirt. "Kiss me," you implored, your gaze locking with his warm brown eyes, overflowing with affection.

His response came with a gentle sigh, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. "You're drunk," he stated softly, his voice laced with worry.

"I am, but I can still make sense of it all," you insisted, determination shining through the haze of intoxication.

"We'll talk about it in the morning, okay?" Johnny reassured, his face drawing closer to yours.

"Please," you exhaled, closing your eyes, feeling the weight of your confession pressing down on you. "I know I'm the worst person alive right now but I- I'm just afraid. Please understand. I want you, I do, but it's so scary."

"Shh, it's okay, I know," he murmured, his words a soothing balm to your troubled soul. "I know you're trying."

Foreheads pressed together, your breaths mingled, each exhalation a testament to the vulnerability you shared in that moment. "I'm sorry," you whispered, the weight of your guilt heavy on your heart.

"You don't have to be," he replied, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender gesture of forgiveness. "Look at me."

As you met his gaze once more, his eyes filled with understanding and compassion. "Relax, okay? I'm happy that you opened up about it."

"I'm sorry," you repeated, the words a mantra of remorse.He shook his head gently, his touch comforting. "Let's try sleeping now, shall we? Don't think about it." With his reassurance enveloping you like a warm blanket, you allowed yourself to drift into the embrace of sleep, for the first time with him.

As consciousness reluctantly seeped into your foggy mind, a wave of discomfort washed over you, fueled by the repercussions of last night's poor choices. The harsh glare of morning light pierced through your eyelids, adding to the throbbing ache behind your temples.

Attempting to remove yourself from the confines of the bed proved to be a tough task, your limbs heavy with exhaustion and your head swimming with dizziness. Searching for Johnny's presence beside you, you found only an empty space, adding to the disorientation.

Succumbing to defeat, you surrendered to the comfy embrace of the mattress, sinking into its softness as you lay there, gazing blankly at the ceiling above. Dehydration gnawed at your parched throat. As you drifted in and out of consciousness, the world around you faded into a haze of half-formed thoughts and fleeting sensations. The rhythmic hum of the ceiling fan above served as a lullaby.

In the midst of this surreal feeling, fragments of memories from the night before flickered like distant stars in the night sky. Realization and what-ifs danced at the edges of your mind, their haunting presence a constant reminder of the consequences of your actions.

Yet, amidst the turmoil, there lingered a glimmer of hope, a faint whisper of possibility that perhaps, despite the mistakes of the past, redemption was still within reach. You clung to this fragile thread of optimism, a lifeline in the midst of the storm.

Minutes stretched into hours, the passage of time marked only by the shifting patterns of sunlight filtering through the curtains. And then, as if on cue, the sound of footsteps drew near, with a weary sigh, you opened your eyes to find Johnny standing in the doorway, his expression a mixture of concern and relief. "Hey, you okay?" he asked softly, you nodded sleepily.

As you reluctantly stirred from your sleep, you felt the duvet being tugged away, prompting a sleepy protest. "Erugh, let me sleep," you mumbled, trying to shield yourself from the intruding light.

But his teasing remark about your state of dress snapped you awake, and you jolted up, "You're completely naked," only to realize you were already covered. He pointed out with a playful grin, causing you to blush and scramble for cover.

However, your movements triggered a sharp pain in your head, and you winced, instinctively reaching to soothe it. Before you could fully register the discomfort, another hand joined yours, gently stroking your head. Slowly opening your eyes, you found him sitting close, his concern evident in his gaze.

"Who told you to drink that much? You puked two times," he said softly, his tone filled with worry and care. Giving in to his touch, you leaned into him, finding solace in his presence amidst the pain.

"I... may have overdone it a bit," you admitted sheepishly, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude for his concern. He chuckled softly, his fingers continuing to massage your head as you relaxed against him.

"It's okay. Just drink some water and take it easy," he reassured you, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. With a nod, you reached for the glass he held out to you

He's far too good for you. A voice at the back of your head screams at you.

"Johnny..." you say, breaking the silence that hung heavy in the room. His presence alone was enough to make your heart race, but you needed to speak your mind.

He turns to you, his gaze softening as he listens intently. "What is it?" he asks, concern lacing his words.

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before continuing. "I've been thinking about..." you trail off, unsure of how to articulate the right words.

Johnny reaches out, his hand placing a strand of hair behind your ear,offering silent support. "Go on," he encourages gently.

"I'm sorry," you say, the words heavy with regret. "I know this is complicated, and i am making it even more complicated but I just don't want to hurt you." You could barely manage to say even that.

Your breath catches in your throat as his fingers trail through the loops of your hair, sending shivers down your spine. His hum reverberates through you, a sensual melody that ignites a fire deep within. But then, in an instant, his demeanor shifts, catching you off guard.

His hand tightens around your hair, pulling your head back with a swift, yet gentle force. The sudden change in his touch sends a rush of adrenaline through your veins, heightening your senses to the electrifying proximity between you.

Your eyes meet his, dark and intense, and you find yourself unable to look away. His breath, warm and fruity, fans over your face, stirring something primal within you. In that moment, you're acutely aware of every sensation, every heartbeat, as you surrender to the magnetic pull of desire that envelops you both.

"Can't you see what you do to me?"

Johnny..." you say, your voice barely above a whisper, the intensity of the moment almost overwhelming.

He pauses, his eyes locked with yours, waiting for you to continue.

"I... I didn't mean..." you stutter, struggling to find the right words as his grip on your hair loosens.

He chuckles softly, his laughter dancing in the air, easing some of the tension between you. "I know, I know," he reassures you, his tone gentle yet teasing.

"But..." you start, only to be cut off by his next words.

"You talk a lot when you're drunk," he says with a smirk, his fingers tracing light patterns along your skin.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, knowing he's right.

"What did I say?" you ask, trying to piece together the fragments of the night before.

His gaze softens, a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes. "That you tend to get... aroused whenever I say your name," he says, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

You shake your head in denial, but deep down, you know he's right.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin, sending tingles of anticipation coursing through your veins.

"Johnny..." you breathe out his name, a mixture of desire and uncertainty swirling in your mind as he hovers above you, his presence consuming your senses.

"Say it," he urges, his voice low and demanding, sending a thrill through your body.

"Johnny, listen to m—" you begin, but he cuts you off with a firm command.

"Say it!" he insists, his intensity leaving no room for argument.

"I want you, for fuck's sake, I want you," you finally admit, your voice tinged with both desire and vulnerability.

Closing your eyes, you release the grip you've been holding onto, allowing yourself to surrender to the overwhelming attraction between you.

You lay back, flattening against the bed, pushing your hair away from your face to meet his gaze head-on. His eyes, dark and intense, never waver from yours, sending a flutter of nerves through your stomach.

"I want you, in every way possible, and it's no secret. I'm just afraid," you confess in a small voice, baring your soul to him.

Johnny's smile is reassuring, his touch gentle as he lays on top of you, ensuring he doesn't overwhelm you with his weight. "Don't be afraid," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. "You'll love me just fine."

In that moment, as you lay entwined with him, all your fears melt away, replaced by a sense of warmth and comfort in his embrace. You know that no matter what lies ahead, you're ready to explore this newfound connection with him by your side.

As Johnny hovers above you, his gaze dark with desire, you feel a surge of anticipation coursing through your veins. His lips brush against yours in a teasing caress, igniting a fire that burns hot and fierce between you.

"I've been waiting for this," he murmurs, his voice low and husky with need as he trails kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.

You arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as his hands roam your body, exploring every curve and contour with an expert touch that leaves you trembling with desire.

"God, you're so beautiful," he whispers, his breath hot against the skin of your neck as he takes you in, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. You feel his breath against your skin, warm and inviting, as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss.

With each touch, each caress, the tension between you dissolves, replaced by an electric current of desire that pulses through your veins. His hands roam your body, mapping every curve and contour with a reverence that leaves you breathless.

You arch into his touch, a soft sigh escaping your lips as he explores every inch of your skin with a delicate touch that sets your senses ablaze. His fingers trace patterns along your spine, sending shivers of pleasure racing down your spine.

Your lips collided with his in a heated embrace, sending shockwaves of desire coursing through both of your bodies. Crashing into each other, feelings of desire over powering you both. In that moment you knew, it was gonna be a hell of a ride and you couldn't be any more excited than you are right now.

After the kiss, you both laid side by side, "By the way you didn't really say any of that." Johnny gently whispers in your ear, and you both end up laughing, cuddling.

~~~

You like it?" Johnny asks, his eyes sparkling with warmth as he watches you take a lick of the ice cream. You nod enthusiastically, a wide smile spreading across your face like a child on Christmas morning. His smile widens in response, a soft glow of happiness emanating from him. It's moments like these that make everything feel so right.

Since that unforgettable day when you poured your heart out to him, your life has been like a dream come true. Flowers, date nights, chocolates – you name it, he's made sure to fill your days with joy and love. From cozy movie nights to endless cuddles, it's like you've found the missing piece to your puzzle.

But it's not all sunshine and rainbows. Like any couple, you have your disagreements. Yet, what sets you apart is the unwavering understanding and support you both offer each other. Johnny never lets you go to bed upset, always there with reassurance and kisses to mend any hurt feelings.

He constantly reminds you that you're doing just fine, and it's true. It's not just about healing from past wounds; it's about the beautiful exchange of giving and receiving love. It's about reciprocating the care and affection you both share, knowing that the more you give, the more you receive.

In a world where it's easy to become complacent, you both choose to love each other every single day. And that, in itself, is the greatest gift of all.

You plead with puppy dog eyes, urging him to let you indulge in more ice cream because, well, why not? 'Pleeease let me have another scoop!' you whine, the anticipation of the creamy goodness making your mouth water. But alas, he declines with a chuckle, warning, 'No way! You'll catch a cold!' You pout, but secretly admire his concern."

Disappointed but not defeated, you pout and playfully stick out your bottom lip, giving Johnny your best puppy-dog eyes. "But Johnny," you protest, "I promise I'll bundle up extra warm tonight! Pretty please?"

Johnny can't help but laugh at your antics, finding your determination to get that extra scoop of ice cream utterly endearing. He shakes his head, still chuckling, and gently takes your hand in his. "As much as I love seeing that adorable pout of yours, I can't risk you getting sick, [Reader]. How about we save the ice cream for tomorrow, hmm?"

You sigh dramatically, but a mischievous glint dances in your eyes as you lean in closer to him. "Fine," you concede, "but only if you promise to share a warm blanket and snuggle with me tonight."

A grin spreads across Johnny's face as he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Deal," he agrees, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "Anything for you, my love."

As you both leave the ice cream parlor, the cool evening air wraps around you, the gentle breeze a welcome contrast to the warmth of your intertwined hands. As you both step into the cozy cafe, the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, bringing back memories of the first time you met. Johnny's hand tightens around yours, his touch sending a thrill through you that's impossible to ignore.

You find a secluded booth in the corner, and as you settle in, Johnny's eyes lock with yours, a silent invitation sparking between you. "You know," he murmurs, his voice low and husky, "this place holds a lot of memories for us."

You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips. "It feels like just yesterday that we were sitting here, nervously sipping our coffees," you reply, your voice filled with affection.

Johnny leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "But this time," he whispers, "we don't have to be nervous." A shiver runs down your spine at his words, and you meet his gaze with a newfound sense of boldness. "No, this time," you say, your voice steady and sure, "we can just be us."

With a gentle touch, Johnny cups your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away. "I like the sound of that," he murmurs, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

Before you can respond, his lips capture yours in a passionate kiss, the world around you fading away as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment. It's a dance of tongues and teeth, of whispered words and soft sighs, each touch igniting a fire that burns hotter with every passing second.

As you finally pull away, breathless and flushed, Johnny's eyes meet yours with a hunger that mirrors your own. "I never want to stop kissing you," he confesses, his voice thick with desire.

A smile tugs at your lips as you lean in to press another kiss to his, the promise of countless more moments like this hanging in the air between you.

~~~

As you sit at your desk, textbooks spread out before you and notes scattered across the surface, you're fully immersed in your study session. The material is dense, and you're determined to grasp every concept before the upcoming exam.

Just as you're deep in concentration, Johnny enters the room with a mischievous grin, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you buried in your books. Without a word, he crosses the room and leans against your desk, his presence a distraction you can't ignore.

"Hey there, studious one," he says, his voice low and playful. "Need a break?"

You look up from your books, torn between the desire to keep studying and the temptation of Johnny's irresistible charm. "I really should finish this chapter," you reply, trying to sound firm despite the flutter in your stomach at his proximity.

But Johnny has other plans. With a swift movement, he slides your textbooks aside and pulls you to your feet, his hands finding their way to your waist as he draws you close. "I think you've earned a reward for all that hard work," he murmurs, his lips dangerously close to yours.

Before you can protest, Johnny's mouth descends on yours in a fiery kiss, his tongue tracing the outline of your lips before delving deeper, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you both. Lost in the heat of the moment, you abandon all thoughts of studying as you melt into his embrace, the world around you fading away until there's nothing left but the two of you and the intoxicating rush of desire.

Minutes, or maybe hours, pass in a blur of tangled limbs and heated kisses, until finally, you break apart, breathless and flushed, the taste of Johnny still lingering on your lips. "Now that's what I call a study break," he says with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You can't help but laugh, the tension of the study session now a distant memory as you bask in the warmth of Johnny's love and the thrill of his touch.

~~~

As you made your way back from college, the skies darkened, and before you knew it, a heavy downpour unleashed its fury upon you. The rain hammered down relentlessly, soaking you up and down. Despite the continuous ringing of your phone from within your backpack, the rain made it impossible to retrieve. With no umbrella in hand, you quickened your pace towards the bus stop, only to witness the last bus pulling away just as you rounded the corner. Desperation set in as you attempted to sprint after it, but the distance between you and the departing vehicle only widened. Defeated, you exhaled heavily, feeling the chill of the rain seeping into your bones. Seeking refuge at the bus stop, you huddled under its shelter, which wasn't helping much.

As you stood there, shivering and dripping, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease creeping over you. The relentless rain seemed to whisper secrets in the wind. With each passing moment, your mind raced with thoughts of your worried boyfriend waiting at home, unaware of your predicament.

As you glanced down at your phone, the screen illuminated with missed calls and frantic messages from him. Frustration bubbled within you, knowing that you were only adding to his worry by being stranded in the storm. You tried to call him back, but the signal was weak, and the connection kept cutting out. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as you waited for the next bus, the minutes ticking by like hours.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the bus appeared on the horizon, its headlights piercing through the darkness like a beacon of hope. With a sigh of relief, you boarded the bus, grateful for the warmth and safety it offered. And soon you were standing in front of his appointment door.

As the bus finally pulled up to a stop, you hurriedly disembarked, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and relief. You practically sprinted the rest of the way home, the rain still coming down in sheets, soaking you to the bone.

Finally, you arrived at the doorstep of your apartment, soaked and shivering. With trembling hands, you fumbled for your keys, desperate to be inside the safety of your home. But before you could even insert the key into the lock, the door swung open, revealing a worried and furious Johnny.

"Where have you been?!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with anger and concern. "I've been trying to call you for hours! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?"

"I-I'm so sorry, Johnny," you stammered, tears mixing with the rain on your cheeks. "I got caught in the storm, and I missed the bus, and...and I couldn't get through to you. I'm so sorry."

Johnny's expression softened as he took in your trembling form, his anger melting away in an instant. Without a word, he pulled you into a tight embrace, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I'm just glad you're safe," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I was so worried about you. Let's get you inside and warm you up, okay?"

You nod, feeling the weight of your backpack against the wall as you follow Johnny into the bedroom. With a quick movement, you pull your hair up, hoping to keep it from sticking to your clothes. Sensing his hands on your torso, you inhale sharply as they glide around to the front, undoing the button of your jeans. Anticipation mounts as he pulls them down, and then he sits, planting kisses on your damp thigh, eliciting a dissatisfied moan from you.

In a swift motion, your undies join the jeans on the floor. "Nice butt," he remarks, drawing a rhetorical look from you. Stepping closer, he removes the t-shirt clinging uncomfortably to your skin, and with it, your bra disappears too. "Beautiful as always," he murmurs, enveloping you in a warm towel and pulling you close, his lips finding your neck, leaving their mark.

"Johnny," you sigh as his hands slip under the towel, teasingly moving between your legs, knowing just where to stop, leaving you breathless. "I'll be right back, change into dry clothes, okay?" he says, his voice a tantalizing promise hanging in the air.

He returned with a steaming mug of tea, fragrant steam curling upwards in the air. He handed it to you with a tender smile, the warmth of the mug seeping into your chilled fingers.

"Here, drink this," he said softly, his voice soothing.. "It'll help warm you up."

"I only need you to warm me up."

"Come here then." He motions you to sit with him in the bed he made, warm and cozy. As you lay there in Johnny's arms, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you like a warm embrace, you couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion welling up inside you.

"Johnny," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "I'm so sorry for worrying you. I never meant to cause you so much distress."

Johnny's arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer to him as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "It's okay, sweetheart," he whispered back, his voice filled with reassurance. "I was just so scared when I couldn't reach you. All I could think about was making sure you were safe."

You buried your face against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a soothing lullaby against your ear. "I promise I'll be more careful from now on," you vowed, your words muffled against his skin. "I never want to put you through that kind of worry again."

Johnny tilted your chin up gently, his eyes locking with yours in a tender gaze. "I know you will," he said softly, his thumb brushing away the tears that had pooled in your eyes. "And I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

With a contented sigh, you snuggled closer to him, reveling in the warmth and comfort of his embrace. Johnny's fingers danced along the buttons of your blouse, a spark of desire ignited between you, fueling the passion that simmered just beneath the surface.

"How about we finish what we started earlier?"

Your heart raced at his words, the anticipation building with every breath. With a smile, you nodded in agreement, your own desire mirrored in your eyes as you leaned in to meet his lips in a fiery kiss.

The heat between you intensified quickly, passion igniting like a wildfire as your bodies melded together in a tangle of desire. Teeth clashed against each other, tongues danced in a feverish rhythm, and hands roamed eagerly, seeking out every inch of skin they could find.

With a swift movement, you straddled Johnny, taking control of the moment as you traced a path of kisses down his neck, relishing in the soft gasps and low growls that escaped his lips. As his shirt fell away, revealing his beautifully toned body beneath, you couldn't help but admire the sight before you, feeling a surge of desire coursing through your veins.

Too shy to say anything, you let your actions speak for you. Lingering on his nipples, you teased and tantalized, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from Johnny's lips. With each flick of your tongue and gentle nip of your teeth, the tension between you grew, pushing you both closer and closer to the edge of desire.

But you weren't done yet. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you continued your exploration, trailing kisses and caresses down Johnny's torso until you reached the waistband of his jeans. With practiced hands, you teased and toyed with him through the fabric, making him harder with every stroke, relishing in the way he squirmed beneath your touch.

As his pleasured groans filled the air, you couldn't resist escalating your actions, eagerly sliding his pants down while he sat up, fixated on your every move. Locking eyes with him, you took him into your mouth, teasingly tracing the tip with your tongue, prompting a soft curse from his lips. Pulling back, you continued to lavish attention on him, savoring every moment as you licked his length, stealing glances up at him. "Enjoying yourself?" you teased, to which he responded with an enthusiastic nod.

Returning to him, you gradually took more of him into your mouth, relishing in the way his hands urged you on, guiding you further down. He pulled you up for a heated kiss, expressing his desire to explore your taste. As his lips trailed down your neck, he urged you to sit on his face, igniting nerves and excitement within you. With his encouragement, you straddled his eager mouth, blushing at his sweet words as his lips planted kisses on your thighs.

Feeling his hands on your hips, he drew you closer, his tongue eagerly finding your clit, eliciting moans of pleasure from you. As his hands explored your body, adding to your arousal, you couldn't help but cry out in bliss as he skillfully pleasured you,

As your pleasure surged, you couldn't contain your cries, feeling the intensity of his actions. "Oh, fuck," escaped your lips as he intensified his efforts, his mouth and tongue working fervently on your clit. His suction grew stronger, his tongue moving with increasing speed, drawing out guttural moans from you. "Oh my god," you exclaimed as the waves of your orgasm crashed over you, "fuck," you moaned as he persisted in his ministrations.

His hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer, he delved deeper into your core, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "Oh god, don't stop," you gasped, your breath ragged as you requested his fingers. With a calm demeanor, he complied, easing his fingers into you, eliciting a blissful moan from your lips. As he continued to pleasure you, his fingers moving rhythmically inside you, your cries of ecstasy filled the room.

"Oh my god," you moaned aloud as he momentarily paused, only to reposition himself behind you. Bending you slightly, he inserted two fingers, drawing out a soft, pleasurable moan from you. With relentless determination, he showed no mercy, driving you towards another peak of pleasure. The sound of slick noises filled the air as his fingers worked expertly within you, pushing your head gently into the headboard to ensure your stability as you surrendered to his touch.

As his hand pressed you down onto his fingers, a fervent moan escaped your lips, the sensation overwhelming you. "Oh my god," you cried out as he intensified his movements, driving you wild with desire. With increasing speed and force, his fingers plunged into you, eliciting a chorus of ecstatic moans from your lips.

Suddenly, he withdrew his fingers, his command clear. "Turn around," he instructed, guiding you gently as you complied, meeting his intense gaze. Enveloped in his embrace, you shared a deep, passionate kiss, his desire evident in his words as he broke the connection. "I want to fuck you," he declared, and you eagerly nodded in agreement, urgency coursing through your veins.

Pushed onto the bed, your legs spread wide, you watched as he knelt between them, his eyes fixated on your dripping arousal. His finger traced circles on your swollen clit, then slipped inside you, claiming you as his own. "Mine," he whispered, his gaze never wavering from yours, and you nodded in submission, a smile playing on your lips. "I'm yours," you affirmed, anticipation building in the air.

With a hungry look, he licked his lips before slowly entering you with his cock, causing you to gasp in ecstasy. "Oh my god," you moaned loudly as he began to move within you, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to the brink of pleasure.

As he increased the pace, driving into you with fervent desire, your cries of ecstasy filled the room. "Oh my god," you moaned loudly as he relentlessly fucked you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. Leaning down, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss, his declaration of love mingling with the sounds of your pleasure. "I love you," he murmured against your lips, his words igniting a fire within you.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you reciprocated his declaration, your voice filled with desire. "I love you too," you confessed as he continued to ravish you with his relentless thrusts. With a swift motion, he withdrew from you, flipping you onto your stomach. "Get on all fours," he commanded, assisting you into position.

Meeting his gaze over your shoulder, you were met with a declaration of your beauty, sending shivers down your spine. As he entered you from behind, a rush of anticipation flooded your senses. His movements became more intense, driving into you harder and faster, eliciting moans of pleasure from your lips. "Oh my god," you cried out, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body.

Feeling his hand reach around to play with your clit, a surge of pleasure washed over you, intensifying the pleasure building within. "Oh my god," you moaned again, lost in the ecstasy of his touch. With each deep thrust, you felt yourself teetering on the edge, your body aching for release.

As he took control, holding both your hands behind your back, you surrendered to him completely. Your petite frame under his dominance, your face buried into the sheets muffling the sounds of pleasure escaping your lips. Sensing his impending release, you knew you were on the brink of ecstasy.

With a few final, deep thrusts, you both succumbed to the ecstasy, waves of pleasure washing over you in a euphoric crescendo. As he pulled out, licking you clean, you whimpered from the overstimulation, your body trembling with aftershocks of pleasure.

a sense of blissful exhaustion washed over you both. Lying tangled together under the sheet, hearts racing and skin still tingling from the intensity of your lovemaking. As you caught your breath, he peppered soft kisses along your neck and shoulders, his touch gentle and tender. "You're incredible," he whispered, his voice filled with adoration as he caressed your cheek. You smiled up at him. In his arms, you feel safe and cherished, the weight of the world melting away as sleep begins to claim you. Drifting off with the rhythmic beat of his heart as your lullaby, you rest easy knowing that you are safe. And you finally know, what love actually feels like

~~~

hope you liked it. umh? idk tried, if you want to request anything, please do. (it'll take forever but ill respond)

please check out other works m.list

and enjoy, have a good day, night~

[tarotmundomonde]

What's next in your love life? (singles)

for the next 3-5 weeks.

pick a number 1-5 or

(ps. this reading is for practice)

1.🍥 Let's see, what's next in your love life, pile 1. Definitely some 18+ temptation. Someone here knows, how to get around to what they want. They know, how to look good. You could be dealing with a foreigner. It looks like you will be dreaming about the future of your love life. I see messages here. I'm also seeing like literally a waiter/waitress or bartender. So that might be significant for someone. You will also deal with the theme of service. Of being devoted and supporting someone, whether someone wants that from you or they give that to you. There is an energy of black and white, yin and yang here. Balance and harmony. The theme of reciprocation will be important, the theme of someone being consistent with you. Someone is here for you, supporting you, they are serious about you, no hidden agendas.

2.👁️ Let's see, what's next in your love life, pile 2. Illusions, confusion, someone misleading you. They will make it look like there is nothing to be suspicious about, but it's like something stinks, something doesn't feel quite right. This might also be related to online activities, like on social media, apps. There will be the end of a connection. Someone might be acting single, while they are dating someone else. The past is coming through. Again, it's like the cards are talking about doing some digging, asking around. You might end up viewing a connection with new eyes. You might end up feeling like it was one-sided all along. But good things will happen, too. You will meet an empath or maybe you already know them. They are really good at reading the mood. This person understands the lows and the highs of emotions. They are an excellent listener and will not judge you. This person could be a potential lover. It looks like positive changes are on the horizon for you. Resourcefulness, sensitivity, belief, faith, independence and determination. You will level up and you will go through empowerment. The thing is, even if someone "stole" some of your time, even if they tried to use you, they are not you and can never take everything you have from you. Because you are you, you are your own source and it always replenishes itself. Even if one person doesn't see your value, someone else will, someone else will reciprocate. There will be new love opportunities.

3.🐦 Let's see, what's next in your love life, pile 3. If you currently feel stuck, know you won't be for long. It looks like you've been taken for granted, people treating your kindness as a weakness, people judging you, hating on you, mockery, drama, wanting to defeat you, getting ghosted and the like. Whatever the situation has been, no matter, how stuck you feel, know you won't be for long. It looks like there will be a shift in your perspective, you will see things differently. You will realize you don't need to be in that situation and that you are free. You also got a message about occupation. The cards said it's not yours. No matter the gender you are into, your person's occupation seems to make them attractive in other people's eyes. It gains them plenty of suitors. And it looks like they get away with a lot of things. But you, however, seem to be different. It's weird, but it's like you shouldn't be their type based on their occupation. For example they are a celebrity and you are not. Hope it makes sense. You got also 444. There is a message about stillness. You are going through a time of healing and blessings and miracles. Trust your path and journey in love. I don't know, how to put this into words but it's like let the universe and the divine do its' magic and just trust. You are going to heal and be more you. As well as it looks like there will be someone new coming in, new love. This is a real connection, it's pure, it's genuine and authentic. And playful. You know, I'm getting a message about people falling for the real you. The more you allow yourself to be yourself, the more you love yourself, the more you are you, you will attract love. I'm seeing people falling for you. But it's not about your looks, it's about, when you are you. Hope it makes sense. The last message is about laughter is medicine. Have fun, do/try new things. Who cares about the response? If you get ghosted/ignored, you know they ain't your person. Have fun, play, laugh. If you are the type to have a poker face, someone might be curious about you and what your laugh sounds like or they want to see you smile and laugh, so they might try to make you laugh, to be playful around you.

4.🐍 Let's see, what's next in your love life, pile 4. It looks like a new beginning or a level up in a existing connection. Being in tune with others, having the chance to bring in some harmony into your love life or a connection. It looks like you will find out someone is already with someone else and therefore not available. There will be some misunderstandings. It will be related to actions and intentions and to whom someone is attracted to. It looks like you will feel like you need a companion. Someone's girlfriend/fiancé/wife will come through as well. They want to make it clear to you that they are the partner. At this point, it kinda looks like maybe you will try your chance with someone just to find out they are taken. The last message is about lack of change and a lack of magic. Everything is over and you could feel betrayed by this whole situation.

5.👅 Let's see, what's next in your love life, pile 5. It looks like focusing on finding peace and finding closure. But you know, how sometimes that's when that person reaches out? That might happen to you. Or maybe you simply find peace and closure. Something here will make you feel very blissed and very happy. You will receive a gift. It could even be a visit. For some of you it's 18+. There is definitely a reference to the unknown. Especially, if you've been through a disappointment in love, the cards are talking about healing and about new love. There is a reference to meeting someone at either a favourite place or at a new place. It's literally 50/50, because this is not a personal reading. There are new adventures in love waiting for you. You also got a message about a rebel. Someone likes to go against the flow. If you are let's say making progress in moving on, someone here ain't accepting that. You can expect someone to rebel against that. Again a reference to 18+. Someone might be interested in doing only that with you. They are confident they can seduce you into doing it with them. They won't give up. For others, this is about a third-party situation. Someone will not give up on making sure you and someone will not be romantically involved, This is someone jealous and they want that person for themselves.

[tsuiioku]

ɪᴛ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴀ ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ · ᴍᴜʟᴛɪᴘʟᴇ ʙꜱᴅ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ༉‧₊˚

featured. osamu dazai, chuuya nakahara, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol, sigma. content. f!reader. based on a request. mentions of alcohol (dazai), mentions of food, nicknames, slavic dishes. (minor) spoilers for stormbringer. translation at the end. not proofread.

author's note. this was an incredibly fun request! these men either shift between being incompetent, or not being reliant on others, so it took a sweet turn.

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

synopsis. the kitchen can be many things. a refuge from the toils of everyday life. a workshop for the creation of exquisite tastes. an assemblage of conversation over collaboration.

but one thing is certain—a well-endeavored meal can warm the coldest of hearts.

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 arrived home late one evening, tromping through the doorway with the confidence only a drunken man could muster. It had been one of those nights, ones in which he was all too aware of the hollowness of his own heart. One of those days where everything was too loud, the ones where he picked up every minuscule detail, whether he wanted to or not. So, he had taken to a drink or two to fill a void, only to dip into another—before he knew it, the room was spinning, and he found himself kicked out of the bar.

But he still had you to return to, so he gathered any soberness left within him and clambered to place his trench coat and shoes in the spots you had set out for them. He was glad you didn't hear him walk in. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been granted the opportunity to take in the view. You pranced around the kitchen, a lifted twirl in your heel as you stirred ingredients in a saucepan, the domestic mess of powders against your skin.

You were all his. The reason he had a home to return to. His sanctuary from his own mind. He often fretted—though he pretended not to—about the idea of you being taken away from him, a fact that he had come to accept as his reality. But in these simple moments, he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy that you encompassed for a moment longer.

His arms fit snug around your waist, his head like a puzzle piece against the curve of your shoulder. "Is that for me?"

You hummed, pressing a peck on his cheek as you leaned into him.

"You'll always have a meal to return home to, Osamu."

Yeah. He'd indulge for just a little longer.

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 did not expect to pass out. He had returned home from a weeks-long mission overseas, anxiously awaiting the moment you reunited and ran into his arms—only for him to arrive early to an empty home. You were at work, and it wasn't his fault the couch clung to him like a vice! For a moment, he thought he had been dreaming of the fresh smell of savory pasta sauce and spices.

Wait. He can't dream.

He cracked open his eyes, his vision steadily straightening out, and trudged into the kitchen with a befuddled pout, his sight narrowing in on exactly what you had been up to.

"Babe."

"Chuuya!" you yelled, almost losing your grip on your spoon before you managed to catch it, clutching it close to your chest as you twisted the knob on the stove to place the heat at a simmer. "You scared me!"

His arms crossed as he leaned on the doorway. "What're you doing cooking in here by yourself?" he asked sternly, scanning the contents of the pot along with your face. If you didn't know any better, you'd assume he was mad. But you did know better, catching onto the subtle tilt of his brow, narrowed in simultaneous amusement and disappointment. Cooking was often a partnered endeavor.

You couldn't resist laughter, cupping his cheek as if comforting an upset child. "You've had a long week, and you looked so peaceful lying there. I couldn't bring myself to disturb you."

He would've been quick to argue—you could wake him anytime, no matter the circumstance—but a thought overwhelmed him and kept his mouth at bay. You had done something for him, not with anything to gain, but simply because you cared. He was used to it happening the other way around, but this. . .this felt nice.

So, he relented, his ginger locks tickling your skin as he tucked his face into your neck with a sigh. "Thank you, baby."

𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 had been busy preparing the next phase of his plans, though you supposed he was always busy—too busy to take care of his own basic needs, that was for sure. He was always sorting through different data, exploring multiple angles to achieve his goals.

With the many tasks flooding his brain, he hardly had time to abandon his screens. The skin of his thumb had worn from his subconscious biting habit as he looked over another spreadsheet of banking information, his hands about to slide over the keys yet again.

The scent of stroganoff stirred him from his trance. His eyes shifted to find a steaming plate of the delectable dish sitting next to him on the desk. And he finally registered the firm hand propped against his shoulder, with you looking upon him from above with a sweet but knowing smile.

"Eat."

He wouldn't have customarily taken kindly to such a harsh demand, but he bent to the stern look of your gaze, one that hid behind it a level of care he ravenously craved. You worried for him, not in the same fashion as his so-called "friends," but with the genuine desire to see him thrive, no matter the circumstance.

So, the demon allowed himself a momentary reprieve, kissing a smile into your hand before taking a bite of the dish.

"Delicious, as always, моя милая."

𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈 had practically burst through the door, prepared to recount the travesties and trials of his day. That was until he caught onto the unmistakable scent of savory pirozhki filling. He followed his nose like a bloodhound, the smell creating a distinct path into the kitchen, where you stood, unaware of the man behind you as you mixed spices into a pan.

"What'cha cooking, dove?" His breath bristled against your ear as he sprung up next to you, using his ability with a shit-eating grin. Your expression mirrored his own, used to the stint of your lover's sudden appearances.

"I found some old Ukrainian recipes online and wanted to try them out." You held out a spoon, and he bit into the filling without a second thought—a mistake. He clutched his throat as his eyes watered, realizing it was too hot for consumption far too late. He finally managed to choke it down, releasing a loud whew!

"Trying to kill me so soon! How cruel!" he exclaimed.

Your laughter roared throughout your home, a shaking hand rubbing his back as you wiped tears from your eyes with the other. "Is it good?"

He brought a finger up to stroke his non-existent beard, humming a quick tune. "Hmm, perhaps a cup of chili powder."

"Коля," you deadpanned. "That's too much."

He sighed, a pout settled on his lips, but you caught the hand sneaking into the interior of his overcoat, snatching his wrist before he poured something irreversible into your dish. He cackled, attempting to pull away as you chased him around the kitchen island.

For a moment, it felt as if you were the only two people in the world—free of restraint. He could feel the bonds tied around him loosen. He could reach out, taste that sensation of freedom for himself. A freedom he had always found in you.

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 had arrived back to his section of the Sky Casino earlier than he expected, having a strange lack of paperwork. But he simply decided to take it as a sign that he had been doing good work, and ignored the anxious feelings that always sprung from not having anything to do.

"I'm home—!" he called, but was stopped in the entryway by a sweet aroma. It was intoxicating, and he couldn't resist the temptation to lurk into the kitchen.

"Welcome home, honey!" you called back, your voice echoing down the hallway. He stripped himself of his coat, leaving it folded on one of the benches before he trekked across the threshold, a curious shift in his furrowed brow.

You were baking cookies, fluffy chocolate-chip cookies. He couldn't resist the smile on his face, even if he wanted to, nor could he ignore the bubbling warmth in his heart. But he couldn't help his confusion.

"Cookies?" he asked, dipping his finger into a batch of dough before he popped it into his mouth. "What's the occasion?"

You swiped at him with a flour-coated hand before dusting the rest of it off on a towel. "You've been busy lately, so I wanted to make you something sweet," you stated as if it were the simplest thing. But those few simple words took him aback.

You cooked for him. No one had ever done that before, not without being an employee or attempting to manipulate him—or both. And in a matter of seconds, only enough to let in a sweep of hot air from the oven to warm his skin, he realized something that had long remained empty had been filled. He felt whole.

"Sigma!" you exclaimed, and he realized that he had tears streaming down his face. The look of concern drawn through your strained lips, your furrowed brow, and your shifting eyes only further set in his new reality—he had his family. He had found his home.

"I'm okay, love. Just. . .thank you."

моя милая = my dear коля = kolya

TAGLIST: @lovedazai @osameowdazai @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @ajaxism @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @justcallmesakira @sillyspookycat @aureatchi @mxxny-lupin @emyyy007 @betweensinners

© MUSAMORA 2024— do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[wolfish-trickster]

The things vampires do for love

Yandere!Ascended Astarion x reader

Word count: 3.7K (a bit longer than planned, sorry)

Summary: he vowed to give you the world, his undying love, immortality even, but he hasn't given you happiness and regret has started to gnaw on you. You try to leave but Astarion has other plans...

Warnings: angst, yandere behaviour, typos/grammar mistakes

A/N: I've never written yandere personality before so I hope it's at least a bit similair 😅 enjoy

@thatpersonnamedrook

The setting sun has coloured the sky blood red. Mothers have called their playing offspring to come eat dinner, humans and creatures have slowly come home from a whole day of work, the whole world was preparing for their night's rest.

Except for you.

Cowering behind a dark tinted window protecting you from sun's painful rays, you observed the life below the palace that has become your home. It's become a custom for you to wake up before every other spawn. They may have forgotten what daylight feels like but not you. Sometimes you still sit on the stone cold windowsill, observe the living below, imagining yourself among them.

You sigh as you watch the sun as a big lightgreen ball, caused by the tinted glass, hide behind the hill.

"Well, good morning," you told yourself as you changed from your sleeping gown to a dress Astarion hinted at liking you in the most. Smoothing down the folds and creases on it you walked past the huge extravagant mirror on the wall. As usual you glanced into it, and as usual you saw nothing. One would get used to not seeing your reflection after all this time, but not you. What would you give to seeing your face one more time. No doubt covered with wrinkles by now, but it made you want to see it even more.

Granted, there was a huge portrait of you and your beloved in the entrance hall of the palace, on display to anyone entering or living in it. The longer it hanged there, the more foreign your own face seemed to you. The painter must've taken some creative liberties, despite Astarion claiming otherwise.

Walking down the hall you reminiscent about the early days. When he promised you love, eternal life, a place next to him as his eaqual. You allowed him to turn you into his spawn. The trust in him was bigger than your common sense telling you to think it over once more. He told you he'll turn you into a full vampire eventually, after some time adjusting as a spawn.

"Soon my love, very soon."

That 'soon' has lasted for nearly a century now. Your patience was not only running thin, but it was gradually being replaced by regret. Has this arrangement given you anything? He has promised so many things and yet fulfilled seemingly none of them. While he gained it all: freedom, seven thousand spawn, palace, powers, eternity without fear, and you, a loyal lover by his side. But at what cost.

You've lost your reflection, body heat, hunger for normal food, and most importantly your life. This existence couldn't be called living.

"Hello my love," Astarion caught up with you and hugged your from behind making you jump a bit. Even after all these years you still can't hear him coming. "How have you slept?"

You put on a smile. Despite how much pain he has started to cause you, you still liked his company. "Good."

"Good? Darling, I'm hurt," he theatrically put his hand on his chest, "spending a dayful of sleep without your magnificent vampire by your side and you claim it was 'good'."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, a sleep of peace without your grating teeth could be classified as good."

"Careful, dear," he jokingly threatened and you nudged him in the ribs with your elbow.

You liked these small moments. When it almost seemed like nothing changed, as if he was still the cute mischievious spawn you've shared tents with.

But then...

"M-master?" A small pale child with eyes blood red squeeked behind you. One of the gur children he has lured away such a long time ago and who he refused to let leave the palace and come back home for reasons unknown to you.

"What?" He snapped at the poor girl, the playfulness washing away from his faster than a lightning bolt.

"T-the lords, of Baldur's Gate, they wish to speak with you."

"Wasn't the paper work I've spent on my whole day enough for them?" He growled, as if the little girl was at fault.

"Astarion," you chastised him under your breath to which he nodded slightly.

"Fine, where are they?" He asked a bit nicer.

"Down in the entrance hall," the little girl answered and smiled at you, silently thanking you. From time to time you needed to stop Astarion from being unnecessarily cruel to his spawn. You promised to keep him in line, to keep him from changing into the man he hated the most. Sometimes it was easier, but when someone took away the time he could spend with you... he was extra unpleasant the last night, or rather day, when the lords of the city you both saved preassured him into finishing a certain paperwork he refused to show you.

It was a miracle he treated you this nicely after the mess he was twelve hours ago. Then again, you didn't really complain, ever since he has become ascendant his mood and his whole self has become rather unpredictable

He grinned. There it was again. "Wonderful. Right when you decide to wear the most delicious dress," he praised you and caressed the velvet hugging your body. You both knew it wasn't really your choice, but you let it be.

"I don't know. I don't really want to meet people today..."

"You don't have to say a word," he put a hand on the small of your back and slightly pushed into the direction of the entrance hall. "All you have to do is stand next to me and look beautiful."

"Astarion, I-"

"Darling," he said, as if he chastised a kid, and pushed into your back a bit more.

And that's how you ended up standing next to him while he sat on a luxurious throne, a giant portrait of the two of you hanging behind you, covering the whole wall. A menacing sight for sure. Not for you though, he's doing this sort of thing every other friday.

The lords before him stuttered and mumbled, occassionaly glancing at the two dosen spawn stood lining the hall, prepared to pounce if their master gave them the order.

Bored out of your mind you glanced around the whole hall, despite knowing it inch by inch. Then your eyes set on one of the lords looking you up and down. Uncomfortable you averted your eyes and crossed your arms in a weak attempt to hide your body. A movement that didn't go unnoticed by Astarion.

"Darling," he adressed you and took your hand to pull you a bit closer to where he sat. He couldn't care less he just cut off one of the elderly lords and potentionally offended him. "You seem awfully bored. I'm sorry this meeting isn't up to our standard of fun. How about you go entertain yourself before I finish this up?"

"Really?"

"Of course my dear," he kissed ylur knuckles, surprisingly making an uneasy shiver run down your back, something about his sweet voice was off. "Your presence is rather," he glared back at the young lord, "distracting."

The young lord gulped but you couldn't care less. As fast as your heavy dress allowed, you ran to your safe place: the library. Once Astarion used to sit surrounded by books along with you, but now? It was all yours.

You walked up and down inbetween the tall bookshelves. You've already read them all, nothing will surprise you. Although that leather bound book over there in the top shelf seemed a bit...new. Despite obviously being covered by a thick layer of dust.

You hiked up your skirt and climbed up the ladder and back down with the unknowm book in your hand. Finally something new to take your mind off of your misery.

You mindlessly flipped through the book, skimming through its pages until you got to a rather interesting chapter.

A magic scroll changing a vampire to a human.

You stared at the black ink on the yellow page. Is this a dream? Did gods hear your thoughts and gifted you a solution?

Maybe that's it? A sign from gods. There's a chance for you to be alive again. To live again.

Without thinking you walked back to the entrance hall, a smile wider than ever plastered on your face. Finally your chest feels light and full with hope. Your skin would finally be warmed by more than fancy clothing and your lover's lips. Your lover.

You halted. How will he react? He has been a bit too much lately and whenever he saw you in a place you didn't usually spend time at he ran over to your side and questioned your sudden change in routine.

Then you shook your head. He will let you go. If he really loved you as he claimed he did, he will. He could even put one of the spawn in charge of the palace and join you, to be like old times again. To remind you why you agreed to be his for the whole eternity. Who knows, maybe the scroll could work on him too.

You pushed the giant heavy door and almost walked through it into the hall if it wasn't for Astarion appearing right infront of you, pushing you back and away from the entrance hall and the only exit out of the palace. Before he could shut the door behind him, you saw something that would make your heart stop beating if it was still alive. A dead body drained of all of its blood, sitting right where the flirty lord once sat.

"You seem awfully joyful, my love," he noted with a smile, something sadistic sparkling in his red eyes. "The reason being me I presume."

You hid the source of your joy behind your back. "Not exactly," you said avoiding his gaze.

With suslicion he eyed your hand behind your back. "What have you got there?"

Before you could react he snatched the book away from you and held it opened right where the chapter about the scroll was. For couple of seconds it was quiet.

"Darling, what is this?" He held up the book, his eyes burning holes into your body.

You gulped. It's now or never. You've thought it over enough times already. "I think we should talk."

"Okay, let's talk," he said in his usual playful slightler higher pitched voice but his face remained stone hard.

"I want to go look for the scroll. Maybe it's not late for me. Maybe it can still turn me back into human."

"And why in the hells would you want that? Hmm? Answer me," he growled and you took a step back.

"This isn't what I thought it'd be Astarion. I miss the sun, I miss the warmth-"

"I gave you the sun. I tinted all windows for you. And am I not warming your bed every night?"

"That's not the same. I want to live again. I want to age and see my own reflection again."

"You want to age? Like the common folk who's worth less than the dirt on my boots?" He chuckled. "Darling, you must've gone truly mad. Why would you want to throw away your eternal youth and beauty for a," he clicked his tongue in disgust, "weakness of a life."

"Because life is beautiful. It's constantly changing and fast paced and fun and finite. You told me once that you miss petty vanity that came with being alive."

"Yes, back when I wasn't living up to my full potential. Wait," a wave of realization crossed his face. "This idea, this rebelion, it couldn't have come from your head," his eyes turned feral. "Who are they?"

"Who?"

"Those who plant these ideas in your head! Was it that young fool who stains my carpet now? Was it? Did he manipulate you into leaving me?

You shook your head and raised your hands to calm him down. "No one did. I didn't even know him. I never leave the palace and you know it Astarion."

"So you mean it's all your idea? You really want to leave me? After everything I've done for you?! I gave you immortality! Eternity at my side as my consort and you would just throw it all away?!"

"I'm not happy like this. I thought I would be but I'm not. I thought you'd make me happy but," you hugged your arms to sooth yourself. "But you changed."

"Yes. That was the point. I was weak before. Now I'm much stronger. With me you'd never have to fear anyone."

"Except for you," you whispered, loud enough for him to hear. "You've become cruel."

"All to protect you," he went to cup your cheek like he used to back in camp. But back then he always made sure his hands were clean, the one he was reaching out to you was drenched in blood.

You stepped back, avoiding his touch. "You promised you'd turn me into a full vampire."

Astarion took a silent step towards you, like a predator stalking its prey, ready to pounce. "But why would you want that darling? You don't need to be a true vampire. You have me. I will give you all you need. Anything you point at, anything your body and soul desires. Voice it and it shall be yours. I will make sure of that," he eventually backed you into a wall, forcing you to withstand his bloody touch.

"I want to leave."

He frowned and pushed your face away. "You ungreatful worm."

He took a look at the book still in his hand and threw it out of the window.

"No!" You ran towards the window and would've jumped after the book if it wasn't for the height you were in.

"Don't you understand?" Astarion breathed down your naked neck, sending down shivers of fear down your spine. "You are but a lowly spawn, forever tied to its master. To me. Out there are much more dangerous beasts than hundred years ago when you pranced around as a pathetic human. They would kill you before you could even think of drawing your weapon."

From behind he adjusted your dress, his cold fingertips lightly caressing your skin. What would be a romantic gesture making you feel warm inside it only made you tense out of fear of what he'd do next.

"You were the only good thing that has happened to me in my whole life. Tell me, was the last century that bad for you to want to leave me? Haven't I done everything for your absolute comfort? Cozied up the palace, tinted the windows, planted rows and rows of flowers beneath your balcony with my own hands, ordered the finest seamstresses to make you dresses, never once gave you an ordered nor forced you into things against your will, was nice to my other spawn at your command."

As he kept listing off the things he has done for you, you started feeling conflicted. It was true, he did obey in certain areas. He could've just waved his hand at your request to be able to see the sun again, he could've left the palace dark and brooding exactly like vampires prefered. He could've ordered you around like he did to the other spawn but he didn't.

Now that you think about it, weren't you exaggarating? Didn't you owe him the loyalty after making your life this comfortable? How many people can say they live in a palace without having the royal blood?

Those who live. Those who have a choice. You had none.

"I love you," he said at last. "You are my everything. All I do is for us to be safe," he almost sounded the same as when he was just a spawn as well. Sincere and loving. "I will die if you don't stay."

Staying. That last sentence sounded off, you couldn't even put a finger on it. But you knew staying means nothing if you're not free to leave. You shook your head and got free from his embrace.

"I've made up my mind. I'm sorry Astarion, but I need to live again."

His mask dropped and back was the vampire ascendant. "No no darling. All you need is just some peace and quiet, where no one can put nasty little ideas in your pretty little head."

With that he grabbed you by the waist, threw you over his shoulder and made his way up a spiral staircase up to a tall tower, with you kicking and screaming. He threw you onto a soft bed and locked you up in the small room. "You will be safe here, where no one can disturb you. You will soon realize I am the best thing that has ever come your way, same as you are mine."

~~

You waited until sun was high enough. Astarion knew you were smart, and smart vampire spawn wouldn't try to escpae while their natural enemy was at its strongest. But you were desperate to leave, and desperate spawn were capable of anything.

The room in the tower had no protective tint on the window, your only saviour were the thick curtains hanging losely from the ceiling. When you couldn't hear any sound from the other side of the door you ditched your extravagan dress, put on some old clothes you found in the wardrobe and used your rusty lock picking skills to open the door. Thankfully you still remember Astarion's lectures from camp and soon enough the heavy wooden door swung open.

With making as little noise as you could you descended step by step down the staircase. Ocassionally you had to duck under a window to avoid sunrays, not truly trusting your makeshift cloak from the bedding to fully protect you from burning.

Finally you got into the safety of dark windowless halls, most of them adorned with paintings of nature and fresh flowers put up on your request. It stung knowing how ungreatful you must be acting towards everyone living here but you put Astarion first for nearly hundred years, it's time you put your own needs above all else.

You knew the palace better than the back of your hand. You knew exactly what turns to make to avoid sunlight as best as possible. The best route towards an exit would be through the kitchen larder connected to a cellar which contains secret door you've discovered some decades ago and which leads right into the garden next to a thick forest. All covered in shadows. All safe for you. The book irrecoverably lost somewhere among the rose bushes can be damned. You'd have to rely on your memory and the good people you'll meet on the way.

Once you finally made it towards kitchen doors you hesitated. The door was slightly ajar. Someone was in there. A hungry spawn looking for rats or other pests to eat at best, Astarion going through his precious wine at worst. You prayed for the former.

Before entering you listened to any sound, any clue who it may be inside. You heard nothing. With couple of deep breath which your body didn't really need but they still calmed you down, you opened the door and slowly crept inside. No one was at the main kitchen. So far so good. The larder was safe too.

With nerves wrecking your whole body you walked down to the door leading to cellar and got the biggest surprise of your life inside.

There surrounded by wine barrels layed Astarion, clothes drenched in wine and some other red liquid. Much more viscous.

"Oh my gods, Astarion!" You ran up to him and turned him onto his back. You couldn't find the source of the bleeding right away, the blood mixing with the wine plus the complicated pattern on his red jacket made it difficult telling which is which. You took his body into your arms and held him with tears clouding your vision. This isn't what you wanted. You didn't think he'd really die.

Suddenly he stirred and opened his eyes. "Darling? Is that you?" He reached out his hand to touch your face and despite the mess on it you let him. Even held it to keep it on your cheek. "Yes, it's me. Please don't die. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't know I could mean this much to you."

"You are my whole world, my love," his thumb brushed your tear away, "I can't bear the thought of you leaving me. I can't bear the thought of you out there, all alone, surrounded by danger. I would die from fear for you, my one true love."

Weakly he pulled your head towards his. Instead of a kiss you expected he leaned into your ear. "Will you stay?"

You nodded and rested your forhead on his. "Yes, of course I'll stay. I'm sorry I ever wanted to leave. It won't happen again, I promise. Just please don't die."

"I won't die my dear. May I?" He slid his hand from your cheek to your neck and tapped at your jugular. "Just like the old days."

You gave him some slace and he sank his fingers into your flesh, drinking from you just like when you met. The sensation of blood leaving your body felt foreign and yet awfully familiar. Taking you back to the days when Astarion was basically depended on you. Looking down at the state he was in, his hair and body a mess, it was obvious he trualy hasn't changed that much over the years. After few gulps he could hold his body up on his own.

"Thank you my dear. It makes me insanely happy you've decided to stay," he hugged your waist and pulled you flush against him.

"I- I'm just happy you're okay," you admitted and hid your face in the crook of his neck. You were sure you were strong enough to leave but seeing him at his lowest, you just couldn't. He never once thought of ending it all before. You must truly mean the world to him.

He kissed your hair and scooped you up into his arms. "Come my dear. It seems I've neglected you too much to cause this little crisis of yours. Let's get you all dolled up and discuss how I can make your life better with me, hm?"

He walked out of the cellar, holding you bridal style and promising you the moon and the stars. You felt loved by him again. So much so you didn't even notice an empty bottle of blood, perfectly placed in the shadows, just like the rest of his performance.