#please don't feel that you need to reply to this!

[jupiterpilgrim]

The Elf Who Couldn't Help

Christmas Special 🎄

Miyeon x Male Reader

word count: 5K

You're wandering through the crowded mall, Christmas music blasting from every direction as you try to check off the last few items on your shopping list. The usual holiday chaos surrounds you - parents dragging screaming kids, teenagers hogging the benches, old people walking too damn slow. Just another December afternoon.

That's when you spot the Santa's workshop setup near the food court. There's a long-ass line of hyper children waiting to sit on Santa's lap, but what catches your eye is his helper elf. She's this tiny Asian girl in a green costume that looks about two sizes too big, desperately trying to wrangle the kids into some kind of order.

"Please stay in line! One at a time!" Her voice is high and stressed as a group of boys completely ignores her, ducking under the rope barriers.

You can't help but chuckle at how overwhelmed she looks. The elf costume is ridiculous - striped tights, pointy shoes with bells, and a hat that keeps sliding down over her eyes. But there's something endearing about how hard she's trying, even as chaos erupts around her.

And she's undeniably adorable too.

"Fucking hell," you mutter under your breath as another kid breaks free from the line, causing even more chaos. The girl's shoulders slump in defeat as she tries to restore order. This will definitely be a long day for the poor thing.

You continue with your shopping, but find yourself passing by the Santa setup a few more times. Each time, the poor elf looks more and more frazzled. Her dark hair is escaping from under the hat, her cheeks are flushed, and she's practically jogging to keep up with all the line-cutting kids.

"Please, one at a time!" the elf girl pleads, her voice cracking slightly. You notice dark circles under her eyes as you walk past.

After finishing up your shopping, you head to your car feeling accomplished. That's when your phone buzzes - a text from your mother saying your cousin - yes, that cousin - decided last-minute to join Christmas dinner.

Fuck.

Now you need another gift.

With a sigh, you trudge back into the mall. The Santa setup is gone now, packed away for the night. You quickly grab a generic gift card (he's not worth much effort anyway) and head back to the parking lot.

That's when you hear it - soft sniffling coming from between two cars. You pause, keys in hand. The sound continues, clearly someone crying. Following the noise, you find a small figure curled up against a tire, wearing that ridiculous elf costume.

"Hey... are you okay?" You ask gently.

She jerks up with a gasp, hastily wiping her eyes. It's the same elf from earlier, but her makeup is smeared and her eyes are red and puffy.

"I'm fine!" She squeaks, trying to force a smile. "Just... just taking a break!"

You raise an eyebrow. "In the parking lot? At night?"

She deflates slightly. "Okay, maybe not just taking a break..."

"I saw you earlier, helping Santa. Rough day with the kids?"

A bitter laugh escapes her. "That obvious, huh?" She sniffs and wipes her nose with her sleeve. "Everything went wrong. The kids were crazy, I couldn't control them, I dropped hot chocolate all over myself... and now they're firing me. Said I'm not 'elf material.'"

"That's harsh. Those kids were like wild animals though, not sure anyone could have controlled them."

She shrugs, looking down at her ridiculous pointed shoes. "I really needed this job though. Even just through Christmas..."

"I'm sorry. I'm sure you'll find something else soon." You hesitate for a second, then you say your name.

"Miyeon," she replies softly.

"Nice to meet you, Miyeon. Look, this might sound weird but... would you want to grab something to eat? You look like you could use a friend right now."

Her eyes widen. "Oh! That's very kind but... I don't know you. And I probably look terrible..." She gestures at her tear-stained face.

You grin. "Come on, who doesn't want to have dinner with a Christmas elf? I promise I'm not a serial killer. We can go somewhere public with lots of witnesses."

That gets a small laugh out of her. "I really shouldn't..."

Right on cue, her stomach lets out a loud growl. Her face turns bright red.

"When's the last time you ate?" You ask.

"Um... breakfast? Maybe?" She admits sheepishly. "I was too nervous to eat lunch..."

"That settles it then. Come on, my treat. Consider it my good deed for the holiday season."

She bites her lip, clearly conflicted. "You really don't have to..."

"I want to. Plus, how often do I get to take an elf to dinner? It'll make a great story."

Finally, a real smile breaks through. "Okay... but only if you promise to drive me home after?"

"Scout's honor," you reply, helping her up.

—

You lead her to your car, noticing how small and vulnerable she looks in the ridiculous elf costume. During the short drive, you learn that Miyeon is a college student who needed extra money for textbooks next semester.

"The mall job seemed perfect," she explains. "Decent pay for just two weeks of work. But I guess I'm not cut out for dealing with kids."

"Those weren't kids, they were tiny terrorists," you reply, making her giggle.

At the diner, you slide into a booth and watch in amusement as Miyeon demolishes a huge plate of pancakes. She pauses between bites, suddenly self-conscious.

"Am I being rude? I must look like such a pig..."

"Not at all. Eat up - you've earned it after this sitty day."

Other diners keep glancing at your table, probably wondering why there's an elf having breakfast for dinner. Miyeon shrinks under their stares.

"Don't you need to return the costume?" you ask.

She shakes her head. "Had to buy it myself. Waste of money now..."

"Seriously? They made you pay for it? That's fucked up."

"Yeah... I spent most of my savings on it too." Her voice wavers slightly.

You study her as she eats - she really is cute, even in the silly costume. There's something genuine and sweet about her that draws you in.

"So what are you studying?" you ask.

"Art history. Everyone says it's useless but... I love it. There's something magical about understanding how art has shaped human culture throughout time."

Her eyes light up as she talks about her studies, hands gesturing animatedly. You find yourself smiling at her enthusiasm.

"That's actually really cool. Most people just chase whatever degree will make them the most money."

"That's what my parents wanted me to do," she sighs. "They think I'm wasting my time. The mall job was supposed to prove I could be responsible and support myself but..." she trails off, looking down at her empty plate.

"Hey, no matter what they think. Do what makes you happy."

She gives you a grateful smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

After dinner, you drive her home as promised. She lives in a small apartment complex near campus.

"Thank you so much for everything," Miyeon says sincerely. "I don't know how to repay you."

You pretend to think hard for a moment.

"Hmm, how about drinks tomorrow night?" you suggest. "No elf costume required."

Her eyes widen. "Are you... are you asking me out?"

"Unless that would be weird?"

"No! I mean... no, it wouldn't be weird. I'd like that." Her cheeks flush pink.

"Great. I'll text you?"

She nods, typing her number into your phone. As she gets out of the car, she turns back one more time.

"You know... maybe getting fired wasn't the worst thing after all."

—

The next evening, you meet Miyeon at a cozy bar downtown. She looks completely different out of the elf costume - wearing a simple sweater and jeans that highlight her petite but curvy figure. Her dark hair falls in soft waves around her face.

"Wow, you clean up nice," you tease. "Almost didn't recognize you without the pointy ears."

She rolls her eyes but smiles. "Never mention that costume again. I'm trying to repress those memories."

Over drinks, conversation flows easily. You learn that Miyeon moved here from Korea as a child, that she has a passion for Renaissance art, and that she secretly loves terrible reality TV shows. She's funny and smart, with a dry sense of humor that catches you off guard.

"So what do you do?" she asks, sipping her cocktail.

You tell her about your job, making her laugh with stories about your weird coworkers. As the night goes on, you find yourself moving closer together, knees touching under the table.

"Want to know a secret?" Miyeon says, slightly tipsy. "I actually hate Christmas music now. Hours of Jingle Bells on repeat will do that to you."

"I don't blame you. That shit's torture."

She giggles, leaning into you slightly. "You know what else? Some of those kids were evil. Like, actually evil. One bit me!"

"No fucking way!"

"Yes! Right here!" She rolls up her sleeve to show you a small bruise on her forearm. Without thinking, you gently run your fingers over the mark. Her skin is incredibly soft.

Miyeon shivers slightly at your touch, looking up at you with those big dark eyes. The air between you feels charged suddenly.

"Do you want to take a walk in the park?" you ask softly.

Shd nods, biting her lower lip.

—

The winter air nips at your faces as you and Miyeon stroll through the park. Christmas lights twinkle in the trees, creating a magical atmosphere despite the late hour. Snow crunches beneath your feet as you walk close together, shoulders brushing.

"Thanks for tonight," Miyeon says softly. "I really needed this after... you know." She gestures vaguely, probably referring to the elf fiasco.

"Hey, I should be thanking you. Not every day I get to rescue a damsel in distress from a parking lot," you tease.

She playfully shoves your shoulder. "I wasn't in distress! I was just... strategically regrouping."

"Is that what we're calling crying behind a car now?"

"Shut up," she laughs, but moves closer to you as a cold breeze whips past.

You find a bench overlooking a small pond, its surface reflecting the colorful lights. Sitting close together for warmth, you can smell her light floral perfume mixing with the crisp winter air.

"You know what's funny?" Miyeon says, watching her breath form little clouds. "If I hadn't been such a terrible elf, we never would have met."

"You weren't terrible. Those kids were demons."

"True. But still..." She turns to look at you, snowflakes catching in her dark hair. Her cheeks are pink from the cold and maybe the drinks. "I'm kind of glad it happened."

The moment feels perfect - the lights, the snow, her eyes shining as she looks up at you. You lean in slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wants to.

Instead, she meets you halfway.

Her lips are soft and slightly cold from the winter air. The kiss is gentle, tentative at first, then deepening as she sighs against your mouth. Your hand comes up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing away a snowflake.

When you finally part, Miyeon's eyes stay closed for a moment longer, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Wow," she breathes.

"Yeah," you agree eloquently, making her giggle.

—

The next few days pass in a pleasant blur. You text constantly, sharing memes and stories about your days. She sends you pictures of terrible Christmas sweaters at thrift stores, you counter with photos of your coworker's increasingly elaborate desk decorations.

You meet up again for coffee between her job hunting attempts. This time she's wearing an oversized sweater that makes her look even tinier, hands wrapped around a steaming peppermint latte.

"I had another interview today," she sighs. "At a bookstore this time."

"How'd it go?"

"Well, I didn't cry or spill anything, so better than the mall job already." She takes a sip of her drink, leaving a foam mustache that you resist the urge to kiss away. "But they said they're looking for someone with more retail experience."

"That's bullshit. How are you supposed to get experience if no one will hire you?"

"Exactly!" She throws up her hands in frustration. "It's like they expect me to emerge fully formed from the womb with five years of customer service experience."

You think for a moment. "You know... my friend works at that art supply store downtown. I could put in a word?"

Miyeon's eyes light up. "Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course. Plus, it's related to your major kind of. You'd be surrounded by art stuff all day."

She practically bounces in her seat. "That would be amazing! Thank you-thank you-thank you!"

Her enthusiasm is infectious. You can't help but lean across the table to kiss her, tasting peppermint on her lips.

The art store interview goes well - Your friend's recommendation carries weight, and Miyeon's genuine passion for art shines through. They hire her for a temporary position through the holiday season, with potential to stay on part-time after.

"I start Monday!" she tells you excitedly over the phone. "And the employee discount is amazing. I'm going to buy so many fancy pencils."

You celebrate with takeout at her tiny apartment near campus. It's cramped but cozy, walls covered in art prints and fairy lights. You sit on her futon eating Chinese food straight from the containers while she tells you about all her plans.

"The manager said they do workshops sometimes too. Like, teaching basic techniques and stuff. Maybe eventually I could lead one!" She's practically vibrating with excitement.

"Look at you, moving up in the world. From disgraced elf to art guru."

She throws a fortune cookie at your head. "Never mention the elf thing again! I'm trying to maintain some dignity here."

You catch the cookie and crack it open. "'A surprise encounter will lead to lasting happiness.’ Huh, guess these things are right sometimes."

Miyeon blushes, ducking her head. You set aside the takeout containers and pull her close, kissing her slowly. She melts against you, fingers curling into your shirt.

The makeout sessions are becoming a regular thing, but neither of you pushes for more. It's nice, this slow build of intimacy. Learning the little things about each other - how she scrunches her nose when she laughs, the way she absently hums while reading, her habit of stealing sips of your drinks and more.

—

You help her prepare for her first day, picking out an outfit that's professional but still her style.

She texts you updates throughout the day:

"OMG there are so many types of pencils. How are there this many pencils??"

"Just had to explain to someone why they can't return used paint. Why are people like this?"

"A kid just asked me what colors taste the best. I told him blue. Hope I don't get sued."

After her shift, you meet her for dinner. She's tired but happy, chattering about everything she learned.

"And did you know there are pencils that cost like $50 EACH? For one pencil! But they're so smooth, feel this!" She pulls a sample pencil from her bag, making you test it on a napkin.

"Very smooth," you agree, charmed by her enthusiasm. "Worth $50?"

"Maybe not $50, but with my discount..." She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

The days leading up to Christmas pass quickly. You help Miyeon learn the store's inventory system, quizzing her on different types of paper and brush sizes. She introduces you to her favorite cheap noodle places near campus.

One evening, you're walking her home when it starts snowing heavily. She tilts her head back, sticking out her tongue to catch snowflakes.

"You know what?" she says thoughtfully. "I actually kind of miss the elf costume. Just a tiny bit."

You raise an eyebrow. "Stockholm syndrome kicking in?"

"No, it's just... if I hadn't taken that stupid job, if I hadn't been so bad at it... we wouldn't be here now." She stops walking, turning to face you. "Sometimes the worst things lead to the best things, you know?"

You brush snow from her hair. "Very philosophical. Must be all that art history education."

"Shut up," she laughs, standing on tiptoes to kiss you. Her lips are cold but her mouth is warm, tasting like the hot chocolate you shared earlier.

When she pulls back, her eyes are serious. "Thank you. For everything. The job, the support... just being there."

"Hey, I got something out of it too. How many people can say they're dating a former mall elf?"

She groans. "I take it back. You're the worst."

But she's smiling as she says it, snowflakes catching on her eyelashes, and you think maybe those fortune cookies know what they're talking about after all.

—

The art supply store keeps her busy through the holiday rush. You bring her coffee during her breaks, watching her explain different types of paints to customers with growing confidence. She's in her element here, surrounded by creative supplies and fellow art enthusiasts.

"A lady asked me to recommend brushes for oil painting today," she tells you proudly. "And I actually knew what to suggest! I'm becoming one of those knowledgeable retail people."

"Better than being one of those retail people who hides in the stockroom to cry," you point out.

"That was ONE TIME," she protests, but she's laughing.

—

Finally, about two days before Christmas, you invite her over to your place for dinner. You've cooked before, but tonight feels different. There's an electricity in the air, an unspoken anticipation.

Miyeon shows up wearing a simple red dress that hugs every curve. Her dark hair falls in soft waves past her shoulders, and you catch a hint of floral perfume when she hugs you hello.

"Something smells amazing," she says, following you to the kitchen.

"Don't sound so surprised," you tease. "I can cook sometimes."

"Sometimes being the key word." She peers into the pot on the stove. "Remember the Great Pasta Disaster of last week?"

"Hey, how was I supposed to know the sauce would explode like that?"

She laughs, stealing a piece of garlic bread. "My ceiling is still stained red. My landlord thinks I murdered someone up there."

Dinner is comfortable, filled with your usual banter. But there's an undercurrent of tension, a charge building between you. Every accidental brush of hands sends sparks down your spine. You catch her staring at your lips more than once.

After the dishes are done, you move to the couch with glasses of wine. Miyeon curls up against your side, fitting perfectly under your arm. You can feel her heart racing.

"This is nice," she murmurs, tracing patterns on your thigh.

"Yeah?" Your voice comes out rougher than intended. "Just nice?"

She tilts her head up to look at you, eyes dark and intense. "Maybe more than nice..."

You cup her face with one hand, thumb brushing her cheek. She leans into the touch, breath hitching slightly.

"Miyeon..."

"Yes?"

"Do you like me?"

Instead of answering, she surges up to press her lips against yours. It starts soft, tentative, but quickly deepens into something more urgent. Her tongue slides against yours as she shifts to straddle your lap, dress riding up her thighs.

You run your hands up her sides, feeling her shiver. She grinds down against you, drawing a groan from your throat. When you break for air, her pupils are blown wide with desire.

"Bedroom?" You manage to ask.

She nods frantically. "Please."

You stand, lifting her with you. Her legs wrap around your waist as you carry her down the hall, still kissing. You nearly trip twice, making her giggle against your mouth.

Finally reaching the bedroom, you put her back on the floor, your fingers gently touch her cheek, she looks up at you with such trust and want that it makes your chest ache.

"You're sure about this?" You have to ask.

"I've never been more sure of anything," she replies.

That’s all you needed to hear.

Your hands roam over Miyeon's body, mapping every delicious curve through her thin dress. She arches into your touch, soft moans escaping her perfect lips. When you kiss down her neck, she threads her fingers through your hair, pulling you closer.

"I've wanted this for so long," she whispers, her voice trembling with need. "Ever since we first met..."

You gently bite her neck, making her gasp. "Me too, princess. You drive me fucking crazy." Your hands slide down to squeeze her ass through the dress. She feels so perfect, so soft yet firm.

Miyeon grinds against you, her breath coming faster. "Please... touch me more..." She guides your hand to her breast, letting you feel her hardened nipple through the fabric.

You waste no time sliding the dress straps off her shoulders, revealing more of her flawless porcelain skin. Her medium breasts spill free, pink nipples begging for attention. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," you growl, taking one peak into your mouth.

"Ohh! Yes, suck them..." She holds your head to her chest as you lavish her breasts with your tongue, alternating between gentle licks and firm sucking. Her moans get louder when you graze your teeth over the sensitive buds.

Your hands push her dress down further until it pools at her feet. Miyeon stands before you in just her lacy panties, her face flushed with arousal and slight embarrassment. You drink in the sight of her nearly naked body.

"You're staring too much," she says shyly.

You gently grab her wrists. "It's because you're fucking perfect." You pull her close for a deep kiss, your tongue exploring her mouth as your hands roam her exposed skin.

She melts into the kiss, pressing her breasts against your chest. You can feel her nipples hard against you through your shirt. Her hands tug at the fabric. "Take this off... I want to feel your skin..."

You break the kiss just long enough to pull your shirt over your head. When your bare chest meets hers, you both moan at the contact. Her skin is so incredibly soft against yours.

"Bed. Now." You guide her backwards until her knees hit the mattress. She lies back, dark hair fanning out on the pillow as she looks up at you with those innocent yet lustful eyes.

You crawl over her, leaving a trail of hot kisses from her tummy up to her neck. Her hands explore your back, nails lightly scratching. When you grind your clothed erection against her core, she gasps.

"Can you feel how hard you make me?" You thrust against her again, making her whimper.

"Y-yes... I want to see it..." Her hands move to your belt, fumbling with the buckle.

You help her undo your pants, kicking them off along with your boxers. Your cock springs free, already rock hard and leaking precum. Miyeon's eyes widen as she takes in your size.

"Like what you see, princess?" You smirk as her hand wraps around your shaft, stroking experimentally.

"It's so big..." she whispers, thumb brushing over your sensitive tip. "Will it... fit?"

"We'll go nice and slow, baby. But first..." You hook your fingers in her panties, sliding them down her legs. You spread her creamy thighs wide apart, admiring how her pink pussy glistens with arousal. Her outer lips are puffy and swollen, inner folds glistening with her juices. The musky scent of her cunt makes your mouth water as you lean in closer. “Fuck, you're already so wet for me.”

"Please..." she whimpers, squirming under your intense gaze. "Stop teasing and lick me already!"

You give her a wicked grin before diving in, dragging your hot tongue through her dripping slit from bottom to top. The taste of her pussy explodes across your tongue - tangy and sweet like ripe fruit. She cries out and bucks her hips up into your face.

"Fuck! Your tongue feels so good!" Her fingers tangle in your hair as you focus on her clit, circling the swollen nub with firm strokes. You can feel it getting harder and more pronounced under your tongue.

Holding her thighs open wider, you bury your face deeper between her legs, eating her pussy like it's your last meal. Your tongue alternates between fucking into her tight hole and flicking rapidly over her clit. Wet sucking sounds fill the room as you devour her cunt.

Her pussy is absolutely drenched now, cream coating your chin as you feast on her. You slide two fingers into her clutching channel while continuing to assault her clit with your tongue. The walls of her cunt squeeze your digits hungrily.

"Holy shit, don't stop! Right there!" She grinds her pussy against your face, chasing her pleasure. "I'm getting so close already..."

You curl your fingers to massage her g-spot while sucking her clit between your lips. The combination has her writhing and moaning uncontrollably. Her thighs start to tremble as her orgasm builds.

You increase the pressure and speed, determined to make her cum hard on your tongue. Your fingers pump in and out of her sopping pussy while you flick her clit mercilessly. She's so wet that obscene squelching noises accompany each thrust of your fingers.

"Fuck fuck fuck! I'm gonna cum!" Her back arches off the bed as her climax hits. Her pussy clamps down on your fingers as waves of pleasure course through her. You keep licking and sucking, drawing out her orgasm until she pushes your head away.

But you're not done with her yet. Not so soon. As she lies there panting, you reposition yourself between her legs. Her pussy is still twitching with aftershocks when you dive back in, this time focusing solely on her sensitive clit.

"Wait! I just came—ahhhh!" Her protest turns into a moan as you suck her swollen clit between your lips. You can feel her trying to close her legs but you hold them open, continuing your relentless assault on her pussy.

The oversensitivity quickly transforms back into pleasure as you work her towards another orgasm. Your tongue swirls around her clit in tight circles while three fingers pump into her dripping hole. Her cream coats your hand as you finger-fuck her roughly.

"Oh god, I can't... it's too much!" But her hips are rocking against your face again, chasing the building pleasure. You can feel her pussy getting even wetter, if that's possible.

You alternate between broad strokes with your flattened tongue and quick flicks directly on her clit. Meanwhile your fingers curl to hit her g-spot with each thrust. The combination of stimulation has her climbing rapidly towards another peak.

Her moans get higher and more desperate as you drive her wild with your mouth and fingers. You can tell she's fighting the pleasure, still sensitive from her first orgasm. But you're determined to make her cum again.

"Please... I can't take it... gonna cum again!" Her thighs start shaking as her second orgasm approaches. You double down, sucking her clit firmly while hammering your fingers against her g-spot.

She screams as she cums, her pussy clamping down so hard on your fingers that you can barely move them. You keep your lips locked around her clit, sucking gently to draw out the intense pleasure.

When her orgasm finally subsides, you slowly withdraw your fingers from her quivering pussy. They're absolutely coated in her cream. You make eye contact as you lick them clean, savoring her tangy flavor.

"Holy shit..." Miyeon pants, still trembling. "That was incredible. I've never cum that hard before."

You smirk and dive right back in, making her yelp in surprise. Her clit is swollen and ultra-sensitive now, perfect for what you have planned. You flatten your tongue and lap at her pussy with long, slow strokes.

"No more, baby, I can't..." But her protests are weak and her hips are already moving against your mouth again. You can feel her getting wetter as you continue eating her out.

This time you take it slow, building her up gradually. Your tongue explores every fold and crease of her pussy, occasionally dipping into her hole to taste her essence. When you finally return attention to her clit, she's practically begging for it.

"Please... need to cum again..." Miyeon rocks desperately against your face, seeking more pressure. But you keep your touches light and teasing, driving her crazy with want.

You trace letters on her clit with the tip of your tongue, spelling out filthy words as she writhes beneath you. When you finally slide your fingers back into her clutching pussy, she moans in relief.

"Yes! Fuck me with your fingers while you eat my pussy!" Her dirty talk spurs you on as you pump three fingers into her dripping hole. Your tongue works her clit with firm, steady pressure.

Her pussy is absolutely gushing now, cream running down your wrist as you finger-fuck her roughly. The wet sounds of your fingers plunging into her cunt fill the room along with her desperate moans.

You curl your fingers to massage her g-spot while sucking her clit between your lips. The dual stimulation has her climbing rapidly towards another orgasm. Her thighs start trembling as she gets close.

"Gonna cum again! Don't stop, please don't stop!" She grinds her pussy against your face, chasing her pleasure. You increase the pressure and speed, determined to give her the most intense orgasm yet.

Her back lifts clear off the bed, her body trembling violently as the orgasm tears through her. Miyeon's cries of your name echo in the room, her voice breaking into a series of desperate whimpers. Her pussy clamps down on your fingers, pulsating in rhythm with the waves of pleasure crashing through her. Her hands clutch at the sheets, knuckles white, as her thighs twitch uncontrollably. You don’t let up, your fingers continuing to work her through every shuddering moment of ecstasy, curling and teasing until she lets out a sharp gasp and pushes your head back, her hips jerking away.

"Stop, stop! Too much," she pants, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her body glistening with sweat.

You lean back, watching her recover, her hair splayed out like a halo against the pillow. Her cheeks are flushed deep red, lips parted as she struggles to catch her breath. She drapes an arm over her face, giggling weakly. "Wow... that was—like—insane. I didn’t know you were this good with your hands."

“Take your time,” you say, your tone soft but teasing as your gaze roams her utterly wrecked form.

She peeks at you from beneath her arm, her eyes still hazy and unfocused. Her thighs quiver as she stretches her legs out, one hand brushing against her stomach as if grounding herself. “Okay, just give me a second,” she murmurs, her voice shaky, a tired smile playing at her lips.

While she lies there, basking in the aftershocks, you reach over to the nightstand. Your fingers brush against the foil packet, and you tear it open deliberately, watching her out of the corner of your eye. Her gaze snaps to you as you roll the condom onto your throbbing cock, her pupils dilating slightly.

"Already?" she whispers, a flicker of excitement chasing away the exhaustion in her expression. You smirk, positioning yourself above her, letting her feel the heat of your body pressing against hers.

"Yes. Ready for me, princess?" You position yourself at her entrance, rubbing your tip through her folds.

She nods, pulling you down for a passionate kiss. You can feel her trembling with anticipation.

"Tell me if it's too much," you murmur against her lips as you start pushing in. The head pops past her tight entrance, making you both moan.

"Oh fuck... you're so big..." She bites her lip, adjusting to the stretch as you slowly feed more of your length into her.

You go inch by inch, letting her pussy accommodate your size. Her walls grip you like a vice, so hot and tight it takes all your control not to just slam in.

"That's it, baby, taking my cock so well..." You bottom out, fully sheathed in her warmth.

You stay still for a moment, letting her adjust while peppering kisses across her face and neck. When her hips start moving against you, you take it as your cue to move.

You start with a few slow, shallow thrusts, just to get her warmed up. Miyeon's moans are soft at first, but they grow louder with each push, urging you on. You can feel her nails digging into your back, her legs wrapping around your waist, pulling you deeper into her. The angle changes, and you hit something inside her that makes her cry out.

"Fuck, right there," she gasps. "Don't stop."

You don't plan to. You pick up the pace, your hips moving faster, your cock sliding in and out of her slick pussy. She's meeting your thrusts, her body arching up to take you deeper.

"Faster," she begs, her voice ragged. "Please fuck me faster."

You grip her hips, your fingers digging into her soft flesh. You start really giving it to her, your balls slapping against her ass with each stroke. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard banging against the wall as you pound her tight pussy.

"You like that, huh?" you growl in her ear. "Like getting fucked hard by my big cock?"

"Yes!" she screams. "Oh god, yes! Your cock feels so fucking good inside me."

Her words dissolve into incoherent moans, her body writhing beneath you. You can feel her getting wetter, her cream coating your shaft and dripping down her ass, making a fucking mess of the sheets. You can see it glistening on your cock every time you pull out, can feel it easing the way as you slam back in.

You lean down, your teeth finding her neck, biting down as you fuck her even harder. She cries out, her body convulsing around you. You can feel her pussy clenching, her walls squeezing your cock.

"Fuck, you're close," you groan. "I can feel it."

"Yes," she pants. "I'm gonna cum again. I'm gonna cum all over your cock."

You can feel your own orgasm building, your balls drawing up tight. But you hold back, determined to make her cum first. You want to feel her lose control, want to feel her pussy milking your cock.

You reach between them, your fingers finding her clit. You rub it in tight circles, your cock still pounding into her. She screams, her body bucking, her pussy clamping down on you like a vice.

"Cum for me, baby," you growl. "Let me feel you cum all over my cock."

And she does. She cums hard, her body convulsing, her pussy pulsing around you. You can feel her cream coating your cock, can feel it dripping down your balls. You keep fucking her, drawing out her orgasm, making her cry out with each thrust. Gradually you slow down the pace, each time your cock goes deep inside her, it pulls out slowly, you stay at this teasing pace until she catches her breath, then when you finally pull your cock out of her, without warning, you lift her shapely leg, exposing her dripping pussy and those delicate feet with festive red toenails.

"What are you doing?" she asks, watching as you grip her ankle.

"I'm gonna worship every inch of you," you growl, bringing her foot closer to your face. "Your pretty little toes look too tasty to resist."

Miyeon giggles nervously. "Nobody's ever... Oh fuck!" she gasps as you take her big toe into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. The polish is smooth against your tongue as you suck gently, watching her face for reactions.

"Does that feel good, baby?" You ask between licks. Her toes taste clean with just a hint of salt from sweat.

"Mmmhh... it's weird but... kinda nice," she admits, wiggling her toes against your tongue. You take two toes in your mouth now, sucking harder as your hand slides up her thigh.

"Your feet are fucking perfect," you tell her, kissing down to her arch. "Just like the rest of you." Your fingers find her pussy lips, already swollen and slick from earlier. You gather some of her wetness and start rubbing slow circles around her clit.

"Ohhh..." Miyeon moans, her leg trembling in your grip. You alternate between sucking her toes and licking long stripes up her sole while your fingers work her pussy. Her cream coats your digits as you slide two inside her tight channel.

"So wet for me," you growl. "I love how your pussy gets all creamy when you're turned on." You curl your fingers, finding that special spot that makes her whole body jerk.

"Fuck! Right there!" she cries out, grinding against your hand. You keep the pressure steady, pumping your fingers as you lavish attention on her feet. Her pussy clenches rhythmically around you.

"You gonna cum again for me?" you ask, increasing the pace of your fingers. "Gonna soak my hand with that sweet pussy?"

"Yes! Please don't stop!" Miyeon pants, her head thrashing on the pillow. You can feel her getting close, her inner walls fluttering. Just before she peaks, you withdraw your fingers, making her whine in protest.

"Not yet baby," you tease, releasing her foot. "I want to fuck you while I suck these pretty toes." You position yourself behind her, keeping her leg lifted. Your cock slides easily through her folds, gathering her wetness.

"Please," she begs. "I need you inside me..."

You press just the tip against her entrance, making her squirm.

"Tell me how bad you want it."

"Please, baby, I need to feel your big cock deep in my pussy! Please fuck me... I'm so empty..."

Unable to resist her pleading, you thrust forward, burying your full length in her tight heat. "Fuuuck," you groan. "Your pussy feels amazing." You start a steady rhythm, not too fast yet, wanting to build her up slowly.

Miyeon moans with each thrust, her pussy gripping you perfectly. You capture her toes in your mouth again, sucking hard as you fuck her. The dual stimulation has her writhing.

"Oh god... that's so... unngh!" She can barely form words as pleasure overwhelms her. You increase your pace gradually, driving deeper. Her cream coats your shaft, making obscene wet sounds with each stroke.

"You like having your toes sucked while I fuck this tight pussy?" you ask, releasing her foot momentarily. "Such a good girl, taking my cock so well."

"Yes! Love it... love your cock..." she gasps. You've never heard her talk so dirty before. It spurs you on, making you thrust harder.

Her pussy starts clenching erratically around you as you pound into her. You can tell she's getting close again. This time you don't let up, determined to make her cum hard.

"Something's happening..." Miyeon pants suddenly. "Feels different... like I need to pee..."

"That's it baby," you encourage her. "Don't fight it. Let go for me." You redouble your efforts, angling your hips to hit her g-spot with each thrust while sucking her toes enthusiastically.

"But... unngh... I can't..." she protests weakly, even as her body tenses up.

"Yes, you can! Cum for me Miyeon. Fucking squirt all over my cock!" You slam into her faster, feeling her pussy spasm around you.

"Oh god, oh god, OH FUCK!" Miyeon screams as the dam finally breaks. Clear fluid gushes from around your cock, soaking the sheets beneath you. Her whole body convulses as she experiences her first squirting orgasm.

You keep thrusting through her release, prolonging it as much as possible. More fluid spurts out with each stroke as she trembles uncontrollably.

"That's it baby, let it all out," you growl around her toes. "So fucking hot watching you squirt."

Miyeon can only moan incoherently as waves of pleasure crash over her. Her pussy clamps down so hard it nearly pushes you out, but you maintain your rhythm until her orgasm finally starts to subside.

You gently release her foot and slow your thrusts, giving her time to catch her breath. She looks absolutely wrecked in the best way possible.

"Holy shit," she pants when she can speak again. "What... what was that?"

You chuckle, still buried deep inside her quivering pussy. "That was you squirting, baby. Felt good, didn't it?"

She nods weakly. "Amazing... I didn't know I could do that..."

"Oh we're just getting started," you promise with a wicked grin. "Now that I know how to make you squirt, I'm gonna make you do it again and again..."

Miyeon whimpers at your words, her pussy clenching around you. You can feel she's still sensitive, but also still aroused.

Perfect.

"Ready?" you ask, starting to move inside her again. She moans in response as you lift her foot back to your mouth...

Your cock slides easily through her creamy folds as you build up a steady rhythm once more. Miyeon's moans get louder with each thrust, her oversensitive pussy gripping you like a vice.

"Such a good girl," you praise her between licks to her foot. "Taking my cock so well after that huge orgasm."

"Feels so good," she gasps. "Everything's so sensitive..."

You angle your hips to hit her g-spot again, making her whole body jerk. "Think you can squirt for me again?" You ask, increasing your pace slightly.

"I... unngh... maybe?" Miyeon pants. "Still feels like I might pee..."

"That's normal, baby. Just let it happen." You suck her big toe into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it as you fuck her deeper. Her cream coats your shaft, dripping down onto the already soaked sheets.

"Oh fuck... oh fuck..." she chants as the pleasure builds. You can feel her starting to tense up again, her inner walls fluttering around your cock.

"That's it," you encourage her. "Let go for me. Show me what a good little squirter you are."

Your words push her over the edge. With a sharp cry, Miyeon's pussy contracts hard and another gush of clear fluid sprays out around your cock.

"Fuck yes!" You growl, maintaining your rhythm as she squirts. "So fucking hot watching you lose control like this."

Wave after wave of pleasure rocks through her body as you continue fucking her through the intense orgasm. Her toes curl against your tongue as more fluid spurts out with each thrust.

When her release finally subsides, Miyeon lies there trembling and gasping for air. You slow your pace but don't stop completely, knowing you can wring at least one more orgasm from her oversensitive body.

"Please..." she whimpers, her body trembling beneath you. "It's too much... I can't..."

"Shh, baby," you murmur, your voice steady and firm. "You can take it. You can take everything I give you." You slow your thrusts a little more, letting her catch her breath, but not enough to let her come down from the peak. "You've got one more in you. I know you do."

She shakes her head, her hair sticking to her sweat-slicked face. "No, I can't... I can't..."

"You can," you insist, your cock still moving inside her, stirring up her pleasure again. "You're a fucking goddess, Miyeon. You can take every inch of my cock. You can cum all over it again."

You increase your speed, your hips moving faster, your cock hitting that spot inside her that makes her scream. You can feel her pussy clenching around you, trying to keep you in, trying to milk you.

"Oh god," she moans, her voice rising in pitch. "Oh god, oh god, oh god..."

"That's it, baby," you growl. "Feel that? Feel my cock hitting your g-spot? You're gonna cum for me again. You're gonna squirt all over my cock."

"I'm so close... I'm so clo—OH GOD!" she cries out, her body tensing, her pussy gripping you like a vice.

You can feel her right on the edge, her body coiled tight, ready to snap. You lean down, your teeth finding her earlobe, biting down just hard enough to send a shockwave through her.

"Cum for me, Miyeon," you command, your voice low and rough. "Fucking let go. Let me feel that pussy explode. Let me see that squirt. Do it, baby. Fucking do it now."

She screams, her body convulsing, her eyes rolling back in her head. "I'm cumm—AAAAH!"

You can feel it, hot and wet, gushing out of her, coating your cock, dripping down your balls. You keep fucking her, drawing out her orgasm, making her scream with each thrust.

"That's it, baby," you groan. "Fuck, that's so good. You're squirting all over my cock. You're such a good girl, Miyeon. Such a fucking good girl."

Her body is shaking, her pussy still pulsing around you. You slow your thrusts, letting her ride out her orgasm, letting her come down slowly. You're about to cum, right on the edge, but you hold back again. This is about her.

This is about Miyeon.

You gently pull out of her, your cock still hard and glistening with her cum. You move down her body, your tongue tracing a path down her stomach, down to her pussy, your hands stroking her thighs, your touch gentle and soothing.

The bed beneath her is a fucking mess—sheets soaked through, the scent of sex heavy in the air. You can see the wet spot spreading, a testament to her pleasure.

"Fuck, baby," you murmur, your voice soft but filled with awe. "Look at this mess you made. You're so fucking sexy."

Miyeon's breath hitches as she looks down at the wet sheets, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and satisfaction. "I... I didn't know I could do that," she admits, her voice shaky. "It felt... god, it felt so fucking good."

You smile, your fingers tracing patterns on her inner thighs, feeling the slickness of her cum. "You squirted, baby. You fucking squirted all over my cock. It was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

She shivers, her body still sensitive from the intense orgasm. "I've never... I've never felt anything like that before. It was like... like my whole body just let go."

You lean in, your tongue lapping at her pussy, tasting her, cleaning her up. She jolts, her hips bucking slightly, but you hold her steady, your hands gripping her thighs.

"Shh, baby," you soothe. "Let me take care of you. Let me clean you up."

She relaxes, her body melting into the bed as you take your time, your tongue exploring every inch of her pussy. You can feel her shivering, her body responding to your touch. The taste of her is intoxicating, a mix of sweet and salty, pure fucking heaven.

"You taste so fucking good, Miyeon," you murmur, your voice low and husky. "I could do this all fucking night."

She moans softly, her fingers tangling in your hair. "It feels so good... I can't believe I did that. I can't believe I squirted."

You look up at her, your eyes meeting hers. She's watching you, her eyes soft and hazy with pleasure. You smile, your tongue giving her one last lick.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Miyeon," you whisper. "God, you're so fucking perfect…"

"But you haven't come yet," she suddenly notes.

"You're right. And where do you want my cum, princess?" You ask.

"On my face... want to taste you..."

"Fuck... Okay. Yeah, right. Get on your knees, baby,” you ask her as you quickly remove the condom.

Miyeon looks up at you with those innocent eyes as she kneels before you, her pretty face flushed with arousal. Her lips are already swollen from all the kissing, making them look even more cock-hungry than usual. You grab a fistful of her silky black hair, guiding her face closer to your throbbing shaft.

"Open that pretty mouth for me baby," you command, tapping your cock head against her plump lips. "I want to see how deep you can take it."

She parts her lips obediently, sticking out her pink tongue to lap at your sensitive tip. The sight of your precum glistening on her tongue makes your cock throb with need. You slowly feed her more of your length, watching in satisfaction as her lips stretch around your girth.

"Mmmmph," she moans around your cock, her eyes fluttering closed in pleasure. She clearly loves having her mouth filled, eagerly sucking and slurping as you push deeper.

You start with slow, shallow thrusts, letting her get used to your size. Her tongue swirls expertly around your shaft as you slide in and out between those perfect lips. Wet sucking sounds fill the room along with her muffled moans.

"That's it baby, take my cock," you growl, tightening your grip in her hair. "Your mouth feels so fucking good."

She responds by taking you deeper, relaxing her throat to accommodate more of your length. Tears form in the corners of her eyes as you hit the back of her throat, but she doesn't pull away.

If anything, she seems even more eager.

You pick up the pace slightly, fucking her mouth with measured strokes. Her lipstick is getting smeared all over your cock, marking it with traces of red. The sight of her face getting messy already has your balls tightening.

"Such a good little cocksucker," you praise, watching her cheeks hollow with suction. "You love having your pretty face fucked don't you?"

She nods as best she can with your cock stuffed in her mouth, humming in agreement. The vibrations send pleasure shooting through your shaft.

You pull out briefly to let her catch her breath, a string of saliva connecting her lips to your cock head. She gasps for air but immediately opens wide again, eager for more. Her face is already a mess of smeared makeup and drool.

"Please fuck my face harder," she begs, voice hoarse. "I want you to use my mouth like a pussy."

You don't need to be asked twice. Gripping her head firmly with both hands, you slam your cock back between her lips. This time you don't hold back, setting a brutal pace as you fuck her throat. She gags and chokes but takes it like a champ, her eyes watering heavily.

The wet sounds of her throat getting pounded are absolutely obscene. Drool runs down her chin and neck as you use her mouth roughly. Her hands grip your thighs for support but she doesn't try to pull away or slow you down.

"Fuck yes, take that cock," you grunt, watching your shaft disappear repeatedly into her willing mouth. "Going to paint that pretty face white soon."

She moans eagerly around your length, clearly excited by the promise of a facial. You can feel your orgasm building as her throat muscles massage your sensitive head.

Your thrusts become more erratic as you get closer to the edge. Her face is an absolute mess now - mascara running down her cheeks, lipstick completely ruined, drool everywhere. She looks utterly debauched and you haven't even cum yet.

"Get ready baby," you warn, feeling your balls tighten. "Going to cover that beautiful face."

You pull out just in time, the slick heat of her lips giving way as you grip your shaft tightly, aiming at Miyeon's upturned face. Her mouth is already open, tongue stretched out, her eyes locked on yours with a look of pure, desperate need. "Give it to me," she breathes, her voice thick with anticipation. The sight of her waiting so hungrily for your release sends a jolt through you, your cock twitching violently in your hand.

With a guttural groan, you let go, the first rope of hot cum splattering across her forehead and sliding down to her nose. She gasps softly, her breath hitching as the next thick jet paints her cheek, followed by another streaking across the bridge of her nose. Your hand works your shaft steadily, aiming with intent, making sure to glaze her perfect lips thoroughly, the creamy mess dripping onto her tongue as she moans in satisfaction.

She doesn’t flinch—if anything, she leans into it, her tongue sweeping over her lips, savoring every drop that lands in her mouth. You’re relentless, emptying yourself onto her until her face is a masterpiece of your desire, every inch of her skin marked with your seed. Thick streaks cling to her lashes, a stray drop dangling precariously from her chin before falling onto her chest. By the time you're finished, she’s a vision of debauched perfection, her flushed cheeks and parted lips framed by the glistening evidence of your climax.

"Fuck," you mutter, your voice hoarse as you admire her. "Look at you. My perfect, filthy girl."

She moans softly, tilting her head as you bring your cock closer, your tip still sensitive but eager for more. Slowly, deliberately, you use your softening length to spread the mess across her skin. You smear the cum over her cheeks, tracing her jawline, rubbing it into her lips before sliding down to her chin. She stays perfectly still, her eyes closed, a serene smile tugging at her mouth as she basks in the attention.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” you whisper, your voice thick with awe. “That pretty face deserves to be covered in my cum every day.”

Her lashes flutter as she peeks up at you, her voice soft but dripping with satisfaction. “I’ll let you paint me whenever you want. I love how it feels... so warm, so dirty.”

Your thumb moves to her lips, smearing the last of the cum over them before pushing lightly into her mouth. She sucks on it obediently, her tongue flicking against your skin, her moan vibrating through your thumb.

When you finally pull back, you grab a handful of tissues, leaning down to clean her face. You start gently, dabbing at her cheeks and lips, but you can’t help but pause to admire her wrecked state—the messy hair, her flushed skin, her swollen, cock-bruised lips. Even as you clean her, the heat between you lingers, your touch lingering on her skin as she smiles up at you.

"You’re mine, Miyeon," you blurt out unconsciously, but there’s no mistaking the edge in your voice.

"Yours," she repeats, her voice a dreamy whisper. "Yeah, I'm yours.”

—

After changing the sheets on the bed, you both collapse onto the fresh, clean mattress, exhausted but content. You pull Miyeon close, her body fitting perfectly against yours as you snuggle together. The room is quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside the window.

Miyeon props herself up on an elbow, looking down at you with those dark, beautiful eyes. "So... this isn't just a one-time thing, right?" she asks, her voice soft but hopeful.

You pull her in for a kiss, your lips lingering on hers. "Definitely not," you murmur against her mouth. "Unless you want it to be?"

"No!" she says quickly, then blushes, her cheeks turning a cute shade of pink. "I mean... I really like you. Like, really really like you."

You smile, your heart swelling in your chest. "Good, because I really really like you too," you say. "Even when you're not dressed as an elf."

She groans, hiding her face in your neck. "Are you ever going to let me live that down?" she mumbles, her voice muffled.

You chuckle, your arms tightening around her. "Nope. It's how we met, it's part of our love story now."

She goes still in your arms, her body tensing slightly.

"Love story?" She asks

Shit. Too soon? You think to yourself, wondering if you've fucked up. But then she's beaming up at you with that bright smile that first caught your attention, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

"Yeah," you say softly. "Love story."

She kisses you again, pouring all her feelings into it. When she pulls back, her eyes are sparkling with happy tears. "Best Christmas present ever," she declares, her voice filled with joy.

[knightjpg]

 As soon as you close the bathroom door behind you the loud thump thump thump of the bass crashes over you again. 

Probably for the best. Your slightly drunk makeout session with the bloke you've been mooning after ended rather abruptly when he turned green and made for the toilet bowl. At least this way you can't hear him gag his guts up. 

You smooth down your hair, readjust your clothes, and try not to feel too disappointed. Maybe you built it—him—the fantasy—up too much. Got too in your head about it, too shy to actually talk to him. Because while your cheeks are still flushed and you feel too-warm and sweaty— 

He was kind of a mediocre kisser.

Which isn't a sin, you remind yourself as you shoulder through the party crowd. Who knows? With two less beers in him he might actually do an okay job at it. You should at least give him the benefit of the doubt. 

Someone bumps into you and very nearly sloshes their drink over your arm, and this is where you decide you've had enough of the sticky heat, the too many bodies pressed together, and the grating music drowning out everything else—seriously, who picked out this playlist? 

You press on ahead to the hallway. There's still people here, but it's much cooler and the pricks of an oncoming headache are slightly soothed removed from the immediate source of their irritation. You text your friend—and more importantly, your ride—and ask if she's had enough yet and can you leave, pretty please? 

Five minutes turn into ten with no answer, and you sigh. You're going to have to go out there again and find her. As you shove your phone back into your pocket your eye lands on the rack of coats. 

It's overflowing; some of the jackets have fallen down on the floor, along with scarves and hats and gloves and everything else that you need for England's nasty winter weather.  

Unless you're crazy enough to just show up with a dark denim jacket and call it a day. 

It's the first thing you see when you look at the rack. That must be a sign, right? A little thrill runs through you when you pick your way carefully around the fallen clothes, trying not to step on anything, and grab the jacket off its hook. 

You pause when you see the patches; faded drawings, mostly, bullets and a bomb and the Scottish flag. 

You don't remember seeing those, but then you were a little distracted with other things. And no one else would be crazy enough to wear just a thin jacket, would they? In the same colour, no less, made from the same rough denim. It looks a little larger than you remember, but clothes always do when they're not being worn. 

You smile and bury your face into the rough material, pouting when the scent is off. Must be all the other jackets messing it up. 

No matter. The cute little reminder you'll leave behind will stick, and that's what's important. A mixture of lingering arousal and interest—not quite a claim, but definitely enough to prompt him to at least call you later. 

And maybe this is a little bit for you, too. It's satisfying on a primal level, soothes the lizard brain wired to do thing you were made to do: 

Be something to claim. 

When you're satisfied you've scented the jacket properly you hang it back up with the others and brace yourself before diving back into the heart of the party. 

It takes long enough for you to actually start to worry, but you do eventually find your friend. Safe and well, you might add, giggling over what a handsome bloke with a quick easy smile and warm brown eyes just said. 

“I've been looking for you forever!” you shout over the music. 

“I've been here the whole time!” your friend replies, then looks at her prince charming with doe eyes. “With Kyle!” 

“Who?” you lean in. 

“Kyle!” the guy says himself, and you give him a shy smile. 

“Hi!” Then you lean back to your friend. “Can we go?” 

“What?” 

“Can we leave?” When she frowns, confused, you repeat, “Leave?” 

“Oh!” her face falls, and she glances back at Kyle. “Little longer?” 

Yeah, you know how that goes. It must show on your face, because Kyle says. “You need to go?” 

“No, no!” your friend says quickly, and shoots you a pleading look. 

Christ. Fine. You owe me, you mouth before turning and leaving the lovebirds to it. 

Now what? 

Your nose wrinkles when you have to step over a big stain on the floor of unknown origins. Get some fresh air, that's what. You'll see if there's anyone you can split a cab with, maybe, or call Em. She's usually still awake at this hour. 

You shrug on your coat, grab your bag, and make for the exit. 

It feels like you're taking a breath for the first time since you arrived here when you step out. The contrast of the cool night air smacking you in the face after all that heat and noise has you shivering, but not in a bad way. The music still thrums behind you, but it's muted and removed. 

You sigh in relief. These kind of parties really aren't your style after all. But you didn't want your friend to go by herself, and well... 

You knew your crush was going to be here. Not that that went well, exactly, but you're trying to feel optimistic about future encounters. Maybe next time he won't talk over you or pant bad breath into your mouth. 

There's only one way to find out. He'll have to call you first, of course, but you're pretty sure that— 

“There ye are, bonnie.” You startle as two large hands wrap around your waist from behind, and your surprise turns into confusion when you smell— 

Well, you.  

When you turn your head your eye catches a very familiar dark jacket. The Scottish flag sewn to the front pocket winks at you. 

Wait a minute.

“Been lookin’ fer ye f’rever,” a man with a thick brogue and a boyish grin says. His mohawk brushes your temple when he leans into nuzzle his nose against the scent gland on your neck. 

“Ready ta go home?” 

accidentally scent-marking the wrong person’s jacket, consequently attracting the attention of a possessive (and obsessive) alpha

[heavyhitterheaux]

Love Bites (NSFW)

See Me Through You Blurb

Synopsis: You bite your husband out of affection that leads to something else

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by a gorgeous anon 😍

Series Masterlist

Do not engage if you are underage

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

“Did… baby…. Did you just bite me?” Joe asked as he glanced over at you noticing that you had now moved your position and was laying your head on his shoulder.

After you had bitten it of course.

“No.”

“Then what did I just feel on my shoulder? You know… the one that you're laying on?”

“I don't know. Beats me.” You replied as Joe was still eyeing you.

“I don't believe you.” He told you as he turned back to the movie that was playing on the television.

“Okay? And what am I supposed to do with that information?” You asked him as you picked your head up to slowly bite down once more. This time on his upper arm.

“BABY!”

“I can't help it! You look so biteable today! Well everyday but I have to stop myself because I would literally bite you for hours. I watched your presser and went FERAL.”

“You literally go feral from the moment you open your eyes. And is that why you sent me a text calling me a whore?”

“Says the person who got me pregnant. And yes those are MY ARMS not anyone else's!” You told him as you softly bit down again except this time leaving a kiss on the same spot in your path.

Joe didn't say anything in response except slip his tank top over his head and throw it across the room as he eyed you.

“Get over here and sit on my lap.”

“Oh?”

“Are you going to continue to stare at me or do what I told you?” Joe asked as you felt a light smack to your ass since your body was already slightly turned towards him.

He didn't even bother waiting for you to move before he literally pulled you onto his lap.

Several kisses were placed on your lips as he reached underneath the t-shirt that you were wearing and started to play with the waistband of your thong.

To give him easier access, the t-shirt was pulled over your head and added to the pile that Joe had originally started. Seeing you weren't wearing a bra, Joe smirked and began to place kisses on both of them, but before he did, little bites were placed on your sensitive skin first.

The wetness between your thighs began to increase and you knew on days like this that you needed for your husband to give you his undivided attention.

Joe's mouth found its way back to yours as your thong was pulled to the side and his fingers started to lightly graze across your folds making you moan as one of his fingers was placed inside.

He wasted no time in breaking the kiss and telling you to stand up so that he could get rid of the rest of his clothes along with the last piece of clothing that was covering you.

As he put you back in your original spot on his lap, your arms wrapped around his neck as you slowly eased your way down making a moan escape from both of your mouths.

When you got into a comfortable pace and began to ride him, Joe took this opportunity to leave small bites accompanied with kisses all across your body where he could reach.

“Mmm, baby.” You breathed out as you threw your head back in pleasure and Joe held onto your hips tighter.

He then placed one of your nipples in his mouth and bit down lightly before he began to suck on it making the moans escaping from your lips grow louder.

“Shiiiit.”

“You better ride me and act like you want it. How bad do you want to cum, baby?” Joe whispered in your ear and your only response was riding him faster.

“That's what I fucking thought.” He told you as you felt another light smack to your ass.

Joe could tell you were tiring out and decided to help you from underneath. After a while his movements became sloppy and both of you hit your peak at the same time.

Your arms were still wrapped around Joe's neck as you were trying to catch your breath and moved to rest your head on his shoulder.

As he was rubbing small circles along your back, you lifted your head to kiss him, but as you did, you also bit down at the same time and could feel Joe smirk as you continued to kiss him.

“If this is the result of me biting you, I need to do it more often.”

“Be careful what you wish for, baby. Now lay down because I'm nowhere near done with you.”

[burnforyou]

STUDY - LUIGI MANGIONE x READER

!SUMMARY! cunnilingus (female receiving), thigh grinding, smut. guys I need him I'm sorry. he has a very sittable face so here’s this. also this is short and kinda lazy but still hot so its okay!

it started innocently: rewarding him every time he got an answer right. with a kiss. as you sit on his lap in a short skirt that looks straight out of a porno.

until it turned into grinding on his thigh. his thick, muscular thigh was just too perfect to not grind on.

luigi pretended not to be affected by your antics, but he was getting every practice question wrong, even the ones that he knew, and his cock was raging beneath his zipper. he flexed his thigh and locked up at you, waiting for you to read the next flashcard aloud. instead you gasped at the feeling of his thigh hardening.

"what's it say? read it." he commands.

"I-" you gasp as he grips onto your waist and brings you further up his thigh, your bare thigh now brushing against his cock with every movement. your empty hand falls onto his chest and the other still holds onto his flash cards, forgotten now. "need you," you whimper, your head falling onto his shoulder.

his big hand reaches under your skirt and gropes your ass. you begin leaving a wet spot on his jeans.

"you're so desperate, hm?" he groans into your ear, nipping at your earlobe. all you can do is whine in reply. he breathes harder and you feel his chest rising faster and faster.

"what do you need? tell me, y/n"

"I need you to fuck me," you whimper into his neck. before you know it, he's lifting you up on his desk and he's on his knees in front of you. his dark eyes flicker between your pussy and your eyes.

he leaves wet kisses on the inside of your thigh, approaching your pussy with delicacy.

"you're so wet for me." he says, sucking on your inner thigh, trying to leave a mark.

you grind onto his face desperately and whine.

"please, Luigi."

at the sound of your voice, he licks his lips and plants them on yours. your hips buck and your clit grazes his big nose. he grips your thighs and throws them over his shoulder, leaving him completely enthralled in your pussy. he shamelessly indulges in your smell, a carnal need for you shining through. he gazes up at your face, completely blissed out, almost at peace.

"you taste so good," he says into you, his teeth lightly scathing against you. you look down at him and grip onto his hair, pulling on his curls. he feverishly eats you like a starved man. it almost feels like worship, him on his knees before you, worshiping your body, treating you like a goddess.

his tongue lapping at your juices creates a lewd sound that's almost music to your ears. your thighs tighten around his head and bring him impossibly closer to you.

pressure begins to build up in your stomach and he feels you pulsing on his lips. in return, he laps at you deeper than before and pinches your clit.

"cum," he demands, groaning, "cum on my face."

you follow his command, cumming hard all over him. your back arches off the desk and you grasp onto his curls harder. he laps up all of your juices, not leaving a single drop. you ride out your orgasm by grinding all over his face, loving the pressure from his big nose on your hole.

he finally comes up from between your legs and smiles down at you fucked out on his desk. his face is almost completely covered in your juices, his lips and nose glistening. he leans down and kisses you deeply, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. your hand traces the shape of his body down to his cock, and you gasp at the wet stickiness you feel.

"did you cum?" you break the kiss and whisper, palming the wet spot on his crotch.

"i-" he looks away, searching for something to say that wont make him lose all of his dignity. you grasp his face with your other hand and force him to look into your eyes.

"don't be embarrassed."

"I just love making you feel good." he says, ashamed. you pull him into you for a final kiss, claiming his lips against yours.

MASTERLIST - PREV. WORK

!TAGS!

@strawbrriess @bellobambino @f4nfic-lover @btcowboy @chmpgneprblem @soggysouppp @hereandqueer6540 @poohkie90 @bricapallen16 @miarosalie11 @v1rtualsalvat10n @hypnotizedbyhood

[springwitch8]

venus, are you there? (agatha harkness x fem!witch!reader)

💜 reupload sorry i fucked up and i'm really sad about it 💜

summary: your patron goddess, venus, has been distant lately. you don't know what you did to upset her, but your life and your powers have been suffering in her absence. you visit the local mage, agatha harkness, about your problem. as you come to find out, it takes a special kind of ritual to provoke the goddess of love.

warnings: lesbian sex duh (18+), DUBCON (innocent!reader is really into agatha's "counsel" but oblivious to her sexual intentions until they're doing the deed), historic westview AU (before it was a suburb, it was a magical village), agatha's improv skills, no beta we die like lilia

notes: after much rumination on the AAA finale, i've decided that being a lifelong liar and diabolical villain can only make a lesbian hotter. centuries is a long time to live, and my brain has gone wild thinking of all the messed-up ways agatha must have passed the time. i imagine she had some fun with the women around her—giving them the attention and stimulation they needed, regardless of whether they knew it or not. gotta keep the bed warm between all the power-stealing and mass murder, am i right ladies?

"agatha harkness, mother of witches, watches over westview from her dwelling on the hill. any spell you can't cast, she will."

so the story went, passed around among the women of the village. if they were to be believed, agatha ran an apothecary out of her home, a one-stop shop of sorts for witches in dire need of guidance. the locals spoke about her with admiration, and the tales of her magical miracles were legend.

hardly a day went by without some talk of agatha's feats: how she unbound someone's great-aunt after the woman had been powerless for decades, or how she rescued a friend of a friend from certain death after a nasty broomstick accident.

---

venus, goddess of love and beauty, had been guiding you all your life. when you were little, you saw her sometimes in the flower-dotted meadow behind your house—a spectral angel, wrapped in pink silk with her hand outstretched to you.

now, though, venus had been silent for nearly a month. her altar was covered in offerings, none of which seemed to please her. you tried every trick under the moon to lure your patron goddess out of hiding, but nothing stuck.

with every failure, things felt increasingly... off. out of the blue, your jewelry degraded to the point that it looked cheap and rusty. you felt tired more often; your skin grew cold and dry. then, you started to feel venus's absence in your relationships. when you got into a huge fight with your best friend over a random misunderstanding, you knew you had to do something.

---

bouncing anxiously on your heels, you waited for agatha to answer the knocks at her door. there was something foreboding about her house in all its gothic glory.

the intricately carved door swung open and there she was, the fabled mother of witches. long brown waves cascaded over her purple-clad shoulders, wild tresses gliding over a silken cloak. you hadn't expected her to be so gorgeous. you'd always pictured the local legend as a crone.

"can i help you, sweetheart?" her voice was warm and lilting. you were almost too staggered by her darkly striking looks to reply, and agatha seemed to know it. her eyes sparkled with amusement, and the corners of her mouth tilted upward.

"um, i hope so," you finally managed before steadying yourself with a deep breath. "venus is my guide, but she's been ignoring me lately. all my gifts and devotions have been worthless; i still can't find her."

"hmmm..." agatha hummed in contemplation, her brows furrowed and fingernails tapping rhythmically against the doorframe. moments later, she ushered you inside and closed the door behind you. "what have you offered her? do you have a proper altar at home?"

"yes, and i've tried everything: fresh roses and myrtle, sea shells, wine, honey, chocolate..." you trailed off as you noticed the scenery around you.

agatha's walls were covered from floor to ceiling in magical materials and aids. she had jars upon jars of herbs, petals and extracts; woven tapestries of pagan deities and common incantations; various crystals suspended in place, arranged to form rune-like symbols; and a massive "death" tarot card in a frame lined with wilted flowers.

as you looked around her home, awestruck, agatha gently nudged you toward her couch. you sunk into the black leather and surveyed the coffee table in front of you, similarly cluttered with witchy items like candles, incense, and a cauldron. agatha stayed on her feet, pacing back and forth while she pondered your situation.

"how long has it been since you last sensed her?" agatha asked. you felt your face heat up when she turned her intense blue gaze to you. you could practically feel the power radiating off of her.

"about a month," you answered sheepishly, wringing your hands in your lap. a look of intrigue flashed across the witch's face and she stalked toward you. soon, she was standing behind the couch where you were sat, her hands firm on your shoulders.

"you're a pretty girl..." she thought out loud, and you squirmed subtly in place at the compliment. "servant of venus, and it shows..." her fingernails traced barely-there spirals on either side of your neck, and goosebumps spread across your skin. satisfied, agatha pulled away to resume her pacing. "got anyone special in your life?"

"i-i'm close with some of the other witches in town, and my grandma lives in the next village over—"

"not what i meant, honey," agatha purred and perched herself on the couch next to you. "who looks after your needs?" you didn't reply, staring at her quizzically. she tried again. "cute thing like you must have a gentleman caller or two, no?"

"not at the moment," you shook your head. "although there was a man who passed through westview a while back, a traveler. he courted me."

"and were you intimate with this nomad?"

"he only kissed me once, right before he left town. said he'd be back for me."

"how did it feel?"

"p-pardon?" you stammered, not expecting to be grilled on your romantic history today—let alone by agatha harkness, who grinned like a cheshire cat at your shyness.

"magic-wise, i mean. acts of affection can trigger power surges, especially for witches who follow venus... if she approves."

"i don't remember sensing anything out of the ordinary," you shrugged. "i wasn't expecting to feel a spark right away; it was just nice to be admired."

"i'm sure, but you're a disciple of venus. do keep in mind: she rules over love, not self-esteem," agatha took hold of your hand while she advised you, sending a chill up your arm. "i have a theory. when did you meet this man?"

"five or six weeks ago, i'd say."

"then it sounds like your goddess was displeased with your choice of lover."

"what, so she's just gone? i kissed the wrong guy and she gave up on me?"

"oh no, sweetpea, you just have to get her attention again."

"how can i do that?" agatha paused at the question, surveying the room in all its magical madness.

"do you still have power?"

"yes," you said, extending your palm toward her—only your magic wouldn't spark. it fizzled, emitting blots of pale pink, but you couldn't get your powers flowing fully.

"oh dear! looks like your magic's not flowing right. it's still there, promise."

"how can you tell?"

agatha narrowed her eyes and gave you a smirk that made you clench your thighs together. then she surged forward, cupping your face and kissing you deeply before you even knew what was happening.

agatha's kiss was hungry, purposeful. her tongue lapped at yours while her fingers sent purple caresses along your jawline. she took your breath away and set your body on fire all at once. to your disappointment, she subsequently pulled away.

"see, lovebug?" she beamed at the sight of you with hooded eyes and kiss-swollen lips. then, she held your open palm up to your light of sight. "you've still got it."

sure enough, the glow of your magic was there. it was weak, but it was there, swirling in the center of your hand.

"why don't you try lifting that spell jar over there?" agatha gestured to a small object on a wall shelf. "the one with the pink wax seal."

you aimed your palm at the spell jar and focused your energy, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't harness the telekinetic power to make it budge. you huffed in frustration.

"don't lose hope, angel," agatha rubbed your thigh comfortingly. "i know a ritual."

"you can bring venus back to my side? really?" you perked up in near-disbelief.

"would you be here if you doubted me?" she quipped back, forcing a conciliatory head shake out of you. "didn't think so. now take your clothes off."

"what?" your eyes almost bulged out of your head, but your thighs clenched together involuntarily at the thought of the older witch seeing your body. one predatory smile from agatha, and your mind was officially at war with your body. she stroked your cheek in mock sympathy, but you could see the amusement in her eyes. she gestured to the wall opposite you both, plastered with photos and illustrations of nude witches dancing under the moon and wading into the sea.

"precious few magical rites involve fabric, darling," agatha soothed. "it's an unnecessary barrier between your energy and the earth."

reluctant yet hanging on her every word, you relented and stripped for her. there was a pleased glint in her eye while she watched your body intently. you peeled off your clothes, giving her occasional anxious looks while you bared yourself.

"good girl," she cooed, watching you shift uneasily from foot to foot. your nipples hardened at a chill, and you could swear her eyes darkened in response. you blinked, and she was in front of you, her robes mere inches from your naked body. after another blink and a rush of purple, you found yourself in another room in the sprawling house—what seemed, at a cursory glance, like agatha's bedroom. "pardon the change of scenery; this is the most magically protected place in the house. now," she gestured to a king-sized, plush purple bed. "on your back, gorgeous. get nice and comfy so we can draw out your power."

"are you gonna have me meditate? or, ummm, astral project?" you asked in arousal and disbelief.

"sure, more or less," she chuckled darkly. impatient, she sent you floating to the center of the mattress with a purple mist. standing at the foot of the bed, she stared at you like you were her last meal. you heard a faint, sparkling whoosh and looked up to see tendrils of violet flying from her palms, a knowing grin on her face. when her magic latched onto your skin and began to stroke its way up your thighs, she piped up again. "can you feel that, sweet girl?"

before you could respond, agatha pounced. she caged your body with hers and dove for a sensitive spot on your neck. she suckled, and you gave a breathy moan that seemed to excite her.

she made her way down to your sternum with sloppy kisses, then turned her attention to your breasts—squeezing and caressing them while you both sighed in pleasure. her hands were rough and greedy and felt so good.

"is this, ahhh, part of the—" agatha cut you off by pinching your nipple between her fingers, rolling it while threads of her magic danced around the sensitive bud. when she closed her mouth around your other nipple, your back arched off the bed, and the three candles on agatha's nightstand spontaneously lit. you gaped at the witch above you in shock. "did i do that?"

"sure did, superstar. i told you this ritual would draw out your power," the older witch said with a smugly victorious smile. she gave each of your tits a kiss farewell before reluctantly parting with them. then, she planted a meandering path of energy-infused smooches from your chest all the way down to your lower belly. even the gentlest touches of her magic electrified your nerve endings, making you writhe under agatha in a silent plea for more, more, more. "oh dear, aren't you needy?"

"yes, yes please agatha, i need you to..." you trailed off upon seeing the expectant, self-satisfied look on the woman's face. the clouds of your desire parted momentarily, and you finally realized what exactly you were asking the mother of witches to do for you (to you). agatha had seduced you into her lair, reduced you to a begging mess. you decided right then and there not to hold it against her. "finish the ritual."

"how could i deny such a polite request from such a pretty girl?" agatha cooed before snapping her fingers, pinning your legs open with her magic. your ankles were bound to opposite corners of the bed by shimmering purple cuffs of energy. agatha grinned wolfishly as she situated herself between your spread legs. "alright, baby, just relax. let yourself feel."

you released a shaky breath and closed your eyes in preparation for agatha's touch. at the first stroke of her fingers through your folds, you felt magic crackling in your veins. you tried to stay on top of the wave of power that threatened to overwhelm you.

"goddess, you're dripping. that's a good sign," agatha drawled, her eyes fixed on her fingers as they lightly stroked up and down your pussy. with no warning, her pointer finger found your clit and pressed down, eliciting a yelp from you. when she began to draw firm circles on the bundle of nerves, you cried out, and the candles on agatha's bedside table rumbled like they were about to tip over. "that's my girl. feels nice when i rub you there, hmmm?"

"s'good, agatha, please don't stop..." you babbled breathlessly, your hips bucking toward her hand. agatha made a low growling sound and laid her free arm across your abdomen, pinning your lower body to the mattress. then, while you were still reeling from her manhandling, she slipped two slender fingers inside you. "oh!" you squealed at the foreign sensation, the sudden fullness. her digits probed your pussy, searching for something. you squirmed as her long fingers combed your fluttering walls. "ag—ahhh, i feel funny."

"i know, sweetie, just bear with me for a second here. you're taking it so well," agatha's free hand twitched and sent a bolt of tingling purple warmth to your clit, rewarding your patience. you gasped and bit your lip to keep from screaming. agatha wasn't even touching your bundle of nerves, yet you could feel her playing with it all the same. while agatha chuckled at your barely-restrained desire, her fingers found your g-spot. this time, you couldn't suppress a keening moan. "oooh, i like that sound. stay loud, lovely girl; let venus hear you."

she emphasized her words with a hard stroke of her fingertips against your special spot, and you shrieked. your hands scrambled for purchase somewhere, anywhere, and ultimately clung to two threads tied to the bedframe above your head. you didn't remember them being there before, but you figured it was one of agatha's tricks. had you opened your eyes, you would have seen the rosy color of the glowing strings and realized that you, not agatha, conjured them.

"are you close, baby girl? i can feel your magic pulsing and flowing," agatha whispered with a sultry wink. you clenched around her fingers and she cackled, pressing her violet-charged thumb to your clit and doubling the energetic stimulation there. you yanked at the pink restraints above your head and writhed pathetically at her touch. "if the ritual is true, you're about to experience pure ecstasy. say my name when you do."

it was all too much. her fingers twisted inside you and brushed your g-spot while her thumb rubbed vibrating, sparkling circles on your clit. a wave of white-hot bliss crested over you, and you cried out: "agatha!"

"princess," the older witch soothed as she continued her ruthless strokes. she looked around in awe as the room was bathed in blushing light, your just-recovered power shining in the afterglow of your orgasm. but agatha didn't let up. she wanted a replay of your precious, pleasured face. when you tried to wiggle out of her grasp, she scoffed. "don't pretend you can't give me another because you're going to, little witch."

she then ducked down to mouth at your clit while sneaking a third finger into you, curling to hit your most sensitive spots with vibrating energy. she took your button into her mouth and sucked vigorously, which sent you floating over the edge once more. again you screamed her name, but this time you also reached for her free hand where it rested on your chest. her fingers eagerly intertwined with yours, and your magic reached out for hers—a pink orb yearning for a touch of purple, charged hands held together by attraction.

"come back to me, superstar," the older woman coaxed as your orgasm faded. she smiled and guided your palm into your field of view. there it was, as if it had never dimmed: your power. agatha had fulfilled her promise. "told you so. i could have stopped after one, so that second round was just for me—you're stunning when you come."

"you... you did it. you got her back," you whispered in disbelief and gratitude. "thank you, agatha. i don't know how to repay you for this."

"oh, i can think of a few ways," she laughed, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "how about you show me what you can do with all that power, honey?"

you sat up and stared at her, confused. she took your glowing hand and dragged it over her upper thigh, exposed by a slit in her dress. you took the hint, swiftly using your magic to vanish her clothes just as she'd done for you. you waved her legs apart and teased your way through her folds, savoring the feeling of her arousal on your fingers. agatha huffed.

"that all you got, daughter of venus? not even gonna touch me witch-style?" agatha provoked. you sighed but gave in, your index finger sending a beam of pink stimulation to explore her from the inside. she gasped and bucked her hips at you frantically. smirking, you lowered your face down to her pussy and started worshipping her clit. while you sucked the bundle of nerves into your mouth, your hands snuck up to agatha's chest. you tweaked her nipples with magic-tinged fingers, and the triple stimulation made the older witch fall apart. "such a good, sweet girl... don't stop, angel..."

you kept working diligently until the witch groaned and pushed you away with a wall of violet. you sat back on your knees and gazed at her, dazedly waiting for any sign of approval. as soon as agatha recovered from her high, she caught you by surprise with a deep, heated kiss.

"you, my darling, are full of surprises," agatha booped your nose as she pulled away. "and look at you!" she cradled your hand and pressed her finger into the center of your swirling, rosy magic. "got your groove back. i told you i'd fix ya right up, and the ritual wasn't so bad, was it?"

"n-no, it was... thank you," you stammered, still reacting to the ritual. "how much do i owe you?"

"don't be silly, toots," agatha said melodically while she wrapped her arms around you and lay back. "i believe in karma. you'll pay me back in kind someday, sugar; don't sweat it today."

"what if she leaves again?" you whispered, feeling agatha's shallow breathing against the crown of your head as she snuggled you. she shook her head, and you felt her nose moving from side to side.

"shhh, sweetheart," she cooed, running her fingers up and down the exposed side of your torso. "that's what i'm here for. any more problems, you come to me. i'd happily make you feel good as new."

satisfied, you burrowed into agatha's hold and drifted off to sleep. with the object of her desire finally at her mercy, agatha was pleased too. she thought about her next move; she'd need to possess another man to pursue you and throw off your powers again. you'd probably get wise to it after the third or fourth guy, but what could you do about it? try to kill her? agatha smiled at the day's work and breathed in your scent, lulling herself to sleep.

[deezbignutz]

REDACTED TUMBLR AWARDS INFO AAAGHHHHHHHH

okay, since majority chose to start from the top again (again, I am sorry for those who didn't want that), I'm gonna restate the rules, prize, category stuff and all that shit here in this post.

Da Rulez (literally just the same rules plaqii had):

you can nominate yourself for as many categories as you like

don't vote for yourself in the polls, play fair

only nominate yourself for categories you feel you fit, for example, if you don’t create Redacted art, don’t nominate yourself for the artist category

if you feel like someone should be nominated for a category, tag them! you cannot nominate anyone other than yourself

if you are tagged, you need to reply to confirm being nominated!

please try and put your nominations in replies and not reblogs!

if a character doesn’t get any nominations, then their will be no award, but if one person nominates themself for a character they will win the award, so make sure to nominate yourself!

if someone wins 2 or more polls, i’ll get them to choose and give the title to the runner up of the poll of the character they didn’t chose the title, cuz if the original winner didn’t pick that character then they ain’t that characters no1 can after all!

have fun with it! if you don’t win, don’t get too upset! this is just a load of silly fun!

Ze Prize (again, still the same prize plaqii had offered):

winners will get personalised userboxes! they’ll look something like this

(this was made by plaqii, not me. all the credit for this (and honestly the whole awards event) goes to them!!)

you can choose the colours (they’ll probably look better than this) (hopefully)

Le Categories:

these are the categories that are currently in place, but if there is a character or extra category you would like added, please reply what you would like added!

Creatives -

best artist

best fic writer

best hc writer

best ocs (not listener designs)

best listener designs (this is for listener designs :))) )

coolest listener/oc cassettes/icons

best roleplay blog (idk if this is the category to put it in, but oh welp)

‘THE’ fans (note - if a character doesn’t get any nominations, then their will be no award, but if one person nominates themselves for a character they will win the award, so make sure to nominate yourself!)-

Aaron

Anton

Asher

Avior

Azmidi

Blake

Brachium

Caelum

Cam

Christian

Damien

David

Elliot

Gavin

Geordi

Guy

Hush

Huxley

Ivan

James

Lasko

Milo

Ollie

Porter

Regulus

Sam

Vega

Vincent

misc -

the most 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂

As stated in Da Rulez, please reply to this post to nominate yourself or tag others if you feel like they should nominate themselves!

You do NOT have to make a whole new nomination post for this, you can just use the one you made before. But if you really want to make another one or if you are in a new category you weren't in before, then feel free to make a new other one or just add more info into your old one.

this even might take a while for me to actually flesh out and stuff, so I'm sorry in advanced if there'll be any bumps along the way

I am only a mere man, and I also have a life outside of this (sadly), so pls understand if I end up making a few mistakes or run into any problems

NOMINATIONS WILL BE OPENED UNTIL DECEMBER 30TH (yes, i know then it would technically not be the '2024 Redacted Tumblr Awards', but that's okay we can discus that later)

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk :))))

[nightlyrequiem]

Be Still My Heart

Chapter 15- The Call

Masterlist AO3 Next Previous

New Chapter Every Saturday

You're the best in the meth industry but a new product suddenly pops up. You and your boss, Valeria, must figure out who is making it so you can take back the market. All the while tension is building between the two of you.

A/N: My throat and head hurts so bad. Somebody kill me like actually

Tags/Warnings: Illegal Substances, Boss Employee Relationship, Angst, Some Hurt/Comfort, Violence, Manipulation, Suggestive Themes, Smut (But Only in CH20.), Dual POV

You are so childish. Valeria does something you don't like and you avoid her. You argue with her, ice her out, leave her home when it's in your best interest to stay. Valeria has scarcely seen you since dropping you back off at that shithole apartment complex you call home. You want nothing to do with her and she hasn't the faintest clue why. She tries to focus on the necessary paperwork needed to travel to El Paso but her thoughts keep straying to you.

Her pen lightly scratches over notebook paper, loosely jotting down everything she'll need to bring with her. She should tell you so you can do this for her. Only, you aren't here. Finding work elsewhere in the compound. She's not sure how, considering the only thing you do around here is cook meth and you kind of need a lab to do that, which you don't have. Valeria sighs heavily and leans back, her neck aching from having been hunched over for so long. she runs a hand over the back of it while she thinks.

Valeria is tired of you acting like you're above the rules. She gets up and walks over to the door to her office and pulls it open, looking for someone. She spots two of her men deep in discussion and calls them over.

"Hey." She says. They turn to look at her, looking wary. They walk over. She tells them to find you. "Bring her to my office." They nod and go looking for you.

Valeria retreats back into her office, shutting the door loudly. She pours herself a shot of whiskey and sits back down at her desk. Her fingers tap along the top of it impatiently. Finally, she hears a knock on the door. She shifts into a more casual position.

"Come in." She says lowly. You walk in, not looking all that excited to see her. Normally that doesn't bother her because nobody ever looks excited to see her. However now it only frustrates her. She feels... pleased whenever she sees you, she wishes it were the same for you.

Valeria narrows her eyes at you.

"We had a conversation about you avoiding me a few days ago." She says. "Are you having memory problems or are you being annoying and rude on purpose?"

Your expressions morphs into indignation. "I'm being rude and annoying?" You ask with disbelief.

Valeria rubs her forehead. It's like you two are cursed to have the same conversation over and over again. If you weren't you she'd have fired you long ago. "You're supposed to be working in here, with me." She replies flatly.

You frown.

"Why?"

Why? You're asking why? You've gotten too comfortable. Valeria must be losing her edge. She begins to wonder if the others have noticed. "Because I said so." She growls warningly, hand purposefully fidgeting with the gun laid flat on her desk. You look like you're about to argue but decide against it.

"Alright." You grit. "What do you want me to do?"

Valeria looks down. Grabbing the paperwork for El Paso. "We're going to El Paso, I need you to read these and sign them."

You straighten. "We are? When?"

"Soon." Valeria pointedly flaps the paper at you.

You grab it from her and situate yourself on the couch. Leaning down to read the first page. You're obviously interested in going to El Paso, not so much about working in the same vicinity as her. Well, she thinks, that's too bad for you. Valeria nurses her whiskey while she works. Calmed by the steady thrum of rain that has started up against the window. She sneaks a glance at you.

"Did you go to Saint Marie?" She asks suddenly. Wanting to make conversation about something you two may have had in common.

"No." You reply, not elaborating.

"Saint Vlad?"

"Mhm."

Valeria frowns. "How's your leg?" She asks. "Slip in the shower again?"

"It's fine." You say.

Valeria downs her drink and pours another. It doesn't take much intelligence to see that you don't have any interest in conversing with her. She rolls her eyes and looks away. Your relationship has shifted and not in the way she wants it to. You're really making her fight for what she wants. That's fine. Valeria had to fight to get scraps of recognition and respect from her brothers in arms, had to fight her way up the chain of command in the cartel. Fighting is what Valeria does best. 

She opens her mouth to speak but her phone rings, cutting her off. It's one of the men she sent to El Paso. She answers the call and is caught off guard by the heavy breathing.

"We need help." He pants, voice sounding rough. "Fuck. They killed them. There's so many of them."

Her blood freezes. You sit up and look at her, noticing her stiff body language. "What are you talking about?" She asks harshly. To her surprise you get up and round her desk, crouching beside her so you can listen in. You didn't ask, but you smell good so she lets it go.

"They broke in during the night." He rasps. "They- everyone is gone. They didn't even hesitate."

"Who?"

"I don't know. I don't know. They said 'stop looking.'" He says.

Valeria knows who. It's the people she's looking for, the people responsible for all this mess. "Where are you?"

"I don't know. I ran. I'm in the middle of nowhere." He says, voice lowering. "I think I'm dying. I think I'm dying please send-" 

Valeria hangs up on him. Staring ahead of her intently. She's getting closer. 

"You hung up on him." You say, surprised and sounding appalled. She looks at you coldly.

"There's nothing I can do for him." She replies. There truly isn't. It's a shame, but at the end of the day, he was expendable. You don't seem to have a response for that, however you still don't seem pleased.

"What now?" You ask, brows furrowed with concern. 

"Now we go to El Paso, we're going to finish this and everything will go back to normal." She shrugs. 

"You're very calm about this," You state. "your men just died and you don't seem to care."

"I don't." Valeria replies, taking another sip of her drink.

You shake your head like you're disappointed.

"When are we going?" You ask.

"I'll figure it out." Valeria stands. Looking at you head on. "Finish up those reports for me, I need to go talk to Diego."

You frown. "Fine." You say. Valeria is a little surprised that you didn't try arguing with her. She expected you to ask to come. To ask why you had to do her work for her. You move around her and gather the papers up in your arms. Carrying them back over to the couch and setting them on the coffee table. Thunder rumbles warningly in the distant. The true storm has yet to hit.

[bentnotbroken1fanfiction]

Style is pacing back and forth in front of the Diner. He knows he needs to go in, just needs to get it over with, but his nerves are on fire. He doesn't know how Fadel is going to react to this news. 

Hopefully, better than Kant had, but he'll understand if it's the same. 

Because Fadel doesn't know what Kant is up to. He doesn’t know that he's potentially going to jail. So, learning this information may completely set him off. 

Or maybe….and there's a tiny sliver of hope in his chest, this will change things for Fadel. Make him want to leave his secret life behind.

It's probably not going to happen, but Style can dream, right? There's no harm in pretending that this news could be happy.

Fuck. 

Who is he trying to fool here? 

No one is going to be happy about this except for him. And he's only happy because he has no self preservation skills and is already so attached to Fadel that he wants to keep this part of him no matter what.  

Shit. Maybe he should just leave. 

Yeah. He can just tell him tomorrow. when he's more ready….

His phone buzzes. 

Fadel:

Stop pacing and come inside. You'll scare away my customers.

Well, looks like he can't put it off anymore..

He pockets the phone and rolls his shoulders back before opening the door. He can see Fadel behind the counter, and there's only one lady in the far corner booth so he decides to just go to him, mind still trying to figure out the right way to do this.  

But as it turns out, he doesn't have to tell Fadel a damn thing. All it takes is the Alpha scenting him, and Style knows that the man can tell something is different. That his scent has started changing. 

Fadel backs up, hands holding tightly to his arms as he stares at him for a moment. His dark eyes are searching for answers on his face and when Style gives him none, he drops to his knees right there behind the counter, and starts racking up his shirt.  He shoves his nose just above his groin and inhales deeply before pressing his ear against the space between it and his belly button. 

His eyes are closed, brow furrowed in concentration. Style knows exactly what he's doing, so he just lets him. There's no point in feigning ignorance. Not now. 

Finally, his eyes snap open and he looks up sharply at Style. “You're pregnant.” 

Style throws up a weak imitation of jazz hands. “Surprise.” 

He frowns as he stands back up. “You weren't in heat.” 

“Yeah, well I guess our bodies are soooo compatible that they decided to knock me up anyway.” He tries to keep his voice from shaking but fails.

He's just….he's scared. 

And Fadel isn't replying. 

So he nervously shifts his weight, and looks around, but when he glances back at the Alpha, he notices that he hasn't stopped looking at Style. He's quiet, but it's like a million things are going through his mind as his eyes drift between his stomach and his face. Then, finally, he reaches out and pulls Style to his chest, maneuvering his face so that his nose rests against the scent gland on Fadel's neck. 

He takes a shuddering breath in and then goes completely boneless in his Alpha's arms. He wants this. Wants Fadel so badly. Needs him to hold him. Wants to feel this safe all the time. Doesn't want Fadel to leave him.

Please, don't leave me.

He doesn't realize he's saying some of that outloud until Fadel holds him tighter and breathes into his hair.  “I'm not going anywhere, Style.” He whispers. “I promise.”

[sams-butt-dem0n]

i loved ur hc about breaking up with the gang! could you do the gang breaking up with reader?

The Gang Breaking Up with Reader

DARRY would have the simple excuse of not having enough time for you due to his busy work schedule and taking care of his brothers in the small amount of spare time he had at the end or beginning of each day. You had tried to convince him that you didn't care that the only time you got to spend together was in bed after a long day, but he wasn't having any of it. "I'm sorry," he says. "I really am. I don't want to do this but it's only fair." "Darry, how often do I have to tell you that I don't care about you not being here all the time? I enjoy the time we have together already and I know that you're busy and stressed but that's okay. I love you. Please don't do this to me." "I'm sorry," he repeats, turning to look away from you. "I'm heading off to work in five minutes. I want you out of here before I get back."

SODAPOP would hate to have to break up with you but he feels like it's the right thing to do. It's definitely due to his lack of self-confidence in a relationship since he found out about Sandy cheating on him and moving away. Don't get me wrong, he's confident in his looks and everything but when it comes to relationships, he tends to beat himself up about every tiny detail. "Y/n, I gotta tell you something," he says, his voice quieter than usual as he stands at your front door. "Yeah? What's wrong baby?" You ask, confused as to why he was at your house when you were supposed to be at his place in less than an hour. "Please don't call me that. It'll only make this harder." You were really confused now. "Huh? Soda what are you talking about?" "I can't do this anymore." He says, straightforward as ever. "What?" You ask, tears welling up in your eyes. "Why? What are you doing/ Did I do something wrong?" "I don't know. I don't know if you did something wrong. Tell me if you did won't you?" "Soda, you sound crazy right now," you say. "Talk to me, don't do this." "I can't. I just can't How do I know you aren't two-timing me, huh?" You were shocked at what he just said to you; appalled even. "You think I'd do that to you? You really think that low of me?" He stays silent. You nod, close your eyes tightly and when you open them again, a single tear rolls down your cheek. "Stay there," you say, walking away from the door and leaving him standing there for about 5 minutes, wondering if you were ever going to come back. You dump all of the shirts and jackets and little crafts he'd given you in front of him on your patio and throw a plastic bag at him afterwards. "I can't believe you think I'd do that," you said. "So much for trust."

PONYBOY was nervous when he realised he wanted to focus more on school than on his relationship. He didn't want to disappoint Darry with his grades dropping since he was with you. He felt as though you held a restriction against him from succeeding even though he knew you weren't in his heart. "Y/n," he says to you as you're walking him home. "Yeah?" You ask, turning your head to look at him. "I- um. I have something to say but I know you won't like it." "What is it?" You ask. "You can tell me anything, I promise I won't get mad." "I want to break up." He says, bluntly. "What?" You ask, stopping dead in your tracks, his house is only a few hundred yards away. "I need to focus on my schoolwork and you're not letting me do that," he explains, angering you more and more by the second. "What do you mean I'm not letting you do that? Pony, all we ever do Is read and study whenever we're over at each other's houses," you reply. "And the one day a week where we aren't studying, we spend some time together and out with the gang. Just like everybody else on a Saturday." "Just respect my decision," he says. "Respect? Why should I?" You ask, getting angrier by the minute. "You want me to respect you breaking up with me for pretty much no reason because the one you 're giving me makes no sense." "Just go home," he snaps before turning around and walking away, leaving you standing there, tears rolling down your face.

DALLAS would break up with you right after he gets out of the cooler. He had convinced himself you were cheating on him with Sodapop, similar to Sylvia. You had gone over to Buck's the second you had found out he was free again and walked in with a huge smile beaming across your face. However, when you opened the door, Buck gave you the dirtiest look he could before mumbling something under his breath and watching you walk past him and up the stairs. Weird. "Hey, Dal!" You exclaim, opening the door and jumping onto his, wrapping your arms around him. "I missed you." Usually, he would hug you back and kiss you on the head, telling you how much he had missed you too; even when he was only in there for a couple of nights. This time, he shoves you away from him, anger displayed across his face. "Dal?" You ask, confused. "What's wrong? Did something happen while you were in the cooler?" "You tell me, y/n. You tell me what happened," he says, snarling at you. "I- I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't done anything. at least, I don't think I have," you say, trying to think if you had done anything wrong in the three weeks he had been gone. "Don't pull that's hit!" He yells, scaring you and making you jump a little. "I know what you did, you little whore! I know you fucked him!" What the fuck was this guy talking about. "What!? I didn't fuck anybody! I haven't had sex since a few nights before you got done in, and that was with you." "Oh, bullshit!" "Who did I fuck then, huh? Who are you convinced that I slept with?" You ask, yelling in his face, hurt in your eyes. "Soda." You almost laugh in his face but remember that probably would be the smartest thing to do. "Seriously? Soda?" You say. "You really think I would do something like that? How could you?" "How could I?" He yells. "How could you! You fucked my friend!" You shook your head and scoffed. "I don't know why I bother. You're clearly not listening to me and you don't want to believe me. Ask Soda about it and then you'll see that I have not laid a finger on him."

JOHNNY breaks up with you after weeks of weighing up the pros and cons. He felt that you were too good for him and someone with a life as messed up as his doesn't deserve someone as perfect and as gorgeous as you. "Johnny?" You ask, seeing a figure lying on the concrete in the lot as you're walking home late from the drive-in. "Is that you?" "Y/n," he says. "I'm sorry." "Why are you sorry?" You smile, helping him up onto a bench, sitting beside him and holding his hand. "You have no reason to apologise." "I do, though," he says, hesitating before continuing. "I can't keep doing this." "What do you mean?" You ask, worry clouding your eyes. "I can't keep doing this. I'm constantly embarrassing you when we're out together; I can't tell that people make fun of you for dating me. I'm nowhere near good enough for you. I can't sit here and watch you waste your life away for someone like me. You deserve some rich fancy soc like Rndy or Bob." "Johnny, what the hell are you talking about?" You say, letting go of his hand. "I love you more than anything. I don't care what anybody else thinks and if you think that I should then why? Why should I care? if they saw you the way that I do then they'd all understand." "I've made up my mind," he says, not bothering to look you in the eyes as he gets up, his back facing you. "And there's nothing you can say to change it." With that, he walks away, leaving you sat on the bench with hot tears streaming down your cheeks, leaving red lines on the skin. Cold. Lonely. And confused.

STEVE has some trouble with girls. He always ends up saying the wrong thing and, similar to Johnny, he feels that you are way too good for him to treat you the way that he knows he eventually will. He knows damn well that one day, you'll get sick of him being a dick and leave him anyway, just like everyone else. So why bother waiting until then when he could just end it right now? The phone rings. "Hello?" You say, picking it up after a couple of dials. "Hey, babydoll," Steve says, his voice making you smile. "Hi, handsome," you reply. "What can I do for ya?" "I have to talk to you about something," he says. "But I want you to hear me out first." "O...kay?" You say, confused about what is about to happen. "Am I in trouble?" "No," he chuckles. "But I know I will be soon." Your smile drops. What is he doing? "Firstly, I want to tell you how much I love you. I think you are the most amazing woman I have ever met and I want you to know that this is not your fault and I have loved every moment with you." He says, making a tear form in your eye. You know what he's doing. "Steve," you whisper. He never shows his emotions like this. the most he's ever said to you is that he loves you and thinks that you're the most gorgeous broad he's ever seen. He has never admitted his feelings this extremely before. "I can't let you be with me anymore. I don't want to be a part of your life anymore. I know I'll just ruin it. I'll be over tomorrow morning to pick up my stuff. I love you, y/n." He hangs up. You hold the phone to your ear and drown in the continuous beep of the ending line. You had never been so hurt in your life.

TWOBIT breaks up with you because he finds someone else. I know this makes him out to be a bad person but I feel like he has so much love for you but when he meets this other girl, he knows that if he loved you as much as he thought he did, she wouldn't have sparked so much interest. "Two," you say, looking up at him. "Who's Kathy?" He lowers his head, looking at his hands in his lap. "Shit, baby." "Just tell me," you say, a tear falling onto your cheek. "She's a girl I met a few weeks ago," he admits. "I bumped into her at the dingo while I was waiting for you and the gang and I realised that I liked her. I'm so sorry" "Do you love her?" You ask. "What?" He says, looking at you with watering eyes himself. "You heard me," you say. "Do you love her, Kieth?" You only ever called him Kieth when you were upset or angry. Right now, you were both. He nods, "I think so." You say nothing and stand up, picking up your bag, putting your shoes on and taking one last look at him. One last look at the man you thought you would spend the rest of your life with. The man who had made you so much happier in the three years of dating you had been through. And you leave. Never to speak to him or your friends, the gang, ever again.

[mrsarnasdelicious]

Merry Christmas You Filthy Animals - Tommy Shelby

Tommy closes the door behind the last of the guests, glad they have all fucked off. It was just his family really, but between John and Arthur getting piss drunk and all John's kids running around, it has not been a very calm Christmas eve.

"Bed, now!" Tommy all but orders. "Yes sir." You smirk wickedly. "Cheeky little bitch." Tommy growls, slapping you on the arse.

You head up the large staircase to the master bedroom, Tommy hot on your heels. He sweeps you off your feet just before you can enter the bedroom. "You are too slow, Mrs Shelby." He grunts, carrying you to the bed. "No, you just have no patience." You chuckle, patting his cheek. Tommy rolls his eyes.

He plonks you down on the bed. He crawls on top of you right away. "Hush now, no more wasted words." He growls. He kisses you firmly. You put your arms around him, beginning to pull his shirts from his trousers. His tongue slips into your mouth and you snap the back clasp of his braces.

Tommy sits upright, unbuttoning his waistcoat and his shirt, shrugging out of them. You snap the front clasp of his braces and toss it aside, pulling at his undershirt. "So greedy." Tommy rasps. "Can you blame me?" You cooe. He chuckles and pulls his undershirt over his head. He kicks off his trousers, leaving him in his underpants. You bite your lips and gaze at his crotch. "You're so tented." You tease. "Can you blame me?" He retorts.

You pull him down for a kiss. Tommy grins against your lips and licks into your mouth. He begins to tug up your skirt. You roll yourself into his touch. "Hmm, good woman." Tommy grunts. His fingers dance over your panties. You whimper, rolling your hips. "Greedy indeed." He growls. He tears the lace of your panties to tatters. "Thomas!" You squeal. "I'll buy you new ones, don't whine." He replies.

He caresses your thigh, inwards and up. His fingers tease the seam of your folds. You moan loudly. Tommy groans in reply and leans in to kiss and nip at your neck. You rock against the tip of his finger, desperate for more of his touch. "M-more, Thomas, please." You mewl. You can already feel your inner walls throbbing. "More?" Tommy taunts. He gently parts your folds, to tease first your core and then your clit. "Pl-please." You whimper. Tommy chuckles huskily. "You are so needy for me." He purrs. You can only whine and nod. Because you are so needy for him. You want more, much more. You want all of him.

Tommy shoves two fingers into you without any prior warning. You gasp. "Oh Thomas." You mewl. He arches his fingers into your g-spot and grinds the palm of his hand into your clit. You squeal in please. "Very good." Tommy growls.

He works you until you are a gasping, whimpering mess on the bed. Your dress is stained with your arousal and hot sweat. You can't even form a coherent sentence. You just need to cum so bad. You need him so bad! "You look so beautiful like this." Tommy grunts. "Cl-close." You stutter. You can barely manage anything else. "How close?" Tommy pulls down his underpants. His cock jumps free. You moan covetously. "You want that?" Tommy growls.

You nod mutely.

"Gonna cum all over my cock?" He taunts. "Please." You whine. Tommy wickedly down on you. "We should get you out of your dress first." He says sweetly. You know what he is doing, though. He gives you a moment to calm down from the edge. And you can't help but loathe him a little bit for it. You cannot tell him no, though. You know he will not let you cum if you defy him.

He helps you sit upright. Carefully he assists you in taking off your dress and bra. You are not of much help, all but shaking with need. Once you are naked, he lays you down again. "Now what?" He asks you huskily. "Now ... you fuck me, please." You murmur, faux innocent. Tommy licks his lips and grins down on you.

He dives between your thighs. "Gah, oh God, Thomas!" You cry out, as his lips seal on your clit. Tommy grins against your cunt. You squeal in pleasure and wrap your legs around him, shoving his face closer against your weak, wanting flesh. His mouth opens and envelopes your entire cunt. You rock into his mouth, already tasting your climax in the back of your throat.

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"ALL THIS FOR JUST THE TWO OF US?"

Here it is, the smut story with Logan and Sergei. I hope you like it!

Tags: @hugjackman

You were trapped between them. Their heat enveloped you, suffocating you and making you lean towards them.

The problem was that you didn't know which one to lean towards. Sergei started leaving soft kisses on your neck, which turned into small bites.

You moaned and tilted your head to give him better access, you could feel his smile against the skin of your collarbone. On the other hand, Logan was quickly getting rid of your clothes.

They both needed to feel you, and make you theirs, and that was reflected in their actions.

A ragged sigh left your mouth when you noticed the cool air of the room against your skin. Finally Logan took off your panties, and separated himself to observe you closely. His green eyes roamed over your body with devotion, hunger reflected in them.

Sergei left your neck for a moment to focus on you, fixing his gaze on you as did Logan. Both of you exchanged a glance, before smiling.

-Look at her, kid –Logan whispered- so beautiful and so ready for us… -he murmured pointing at you with his head, before looking at Sergei- Do you smell it? –he asked, the hunter nodded-

-I do –he affirmed smiling at his friend, before focusing on you- you are so wet, dorogoy (darling) –he growled, his voice became hoarser when he spoke in his native language- so defenseless… -he stammered, his blue eyes observed you for a moment before approaching you, he lifted your head between his thumb and index finger- a defenseless doe against two predators like us… -he whispered tracing with his thumb the curve of your lower lip- we are not going to be nice, moya lyubov' (my love)

-He's right, princess –Logan said standing behind you, his hands resting on your hips. A smile appeared on his lips as he heard your heartbeat racing against your ribs. “We won’t be,” he whispered in your ear, “unless you want it.”

-“I don’t want it,” you replied, swallowing hard. “I need you both, please.”

-“You don’t need to beg, malen’kiy,” (little one) Sergei murmured, leaning closer to your mouth. “We’ll give you exactly what you need"

Logan added, kissing the curve of your shoulder. Sergei attacked your lips roughly, his tongue entering your mouth with intensity, making you gasp against his mouth. You felt like butter between his fingers, one that he could mold to his liking.

Logan’s gaze darkened as he watched Sergei brush his fingers across your chest. You sighed as you felt the coldness of his fingers against that area, goosebumps rising on your skin.

The hunter bent down to catch your nipple between his teeth. Logan did the same with his hand, sliding it under your arm, cupping your other breast between his thumb and forefinger. The attentions of both men had you throwing your head back, as several gasps and ragged sighs left your mouth.

You leaned against Logan’s shoulder, who had a perfect view of you from that angle, especially the spot between your legs.

You dug your nails into his arm as Sergei snaked his way down your body to rest his chin against your lower belly. Your head was still on Logan’s shoulder, who held you against him for a passionate kiss. He tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth, drawing a muffled gasp from you.

“Wow,” Sergei whispered, looking down at your center, before looking at Logan again, “All this for just the two of us?” –he smiled, staring at him- we're so lucky, rosomah- (Wolverine)

-I know, bub –Logan whispered- if you don't put your mouth on him, I will –he growled impatiently, getting closer to your ear- Do you see what you're doing to me, princess? –he pressed his hips against you, being able to feel the outline of his hard cock inside his underwear- your smell is driving me crazy –he clicked his tongue while shaking his head- I'm going to lose my fucking mind –he cursed, moving your hips forward, getting closer to Sergei's mouth-

-Please… -you gasped, feeling the hunter's breath on your most sensitive area, and Logan's long fingers on the skin of your hips-

-Please what, zadniy? (hind) –Sergei asked, tightening his grip on your inner thighs-

-Eat me –you said-

A blush built up on your cheeks, making both men smile, fascinated, watching how, despite the situation, your shy personality came out, which drove them completely crazy.

-Don't leave a piece of me, Sergei –you whispered-

-Tvoi pozhelaniya dlya menya prikaz –he replied with a smile- (your wish is my command)

Then he lowered his head. His tongue slipped between your folds with the experience of someone who had done that more than once.

A gasp came from between your lips when you felt him leave a kiss on your pelvic bone, before going back down to your center.

He pulled your clit between his teeth, causing a sigh/scream to come out of your mouth. You felt a familiar pressure in your lower belly, Logan followed the movements of Sergei's tongue with his hands, rocking your hips back and forth constantly.

The hunter knew you weren't going to hold out much longer and that, if you could talk, you would have told him.

One last lick of his tongue over your clit was enough to make you cum hard. He rose from between your legs, cleaning the remains of you with his tongue making you blush again. Your legs were shaking from the intensity of the orgasm.

Sergei couldn't take his eyes off you, all trembling, excited and soaked for them.

After you recovered, they both fucked you like you needed.

And just as they had told you, they weren't gentle.

[ikyoudreamofme]

Please.. PT2

A/N: So many of my fics are in a hospital or at a party this is out of hand. Go read part one

________________________________________

Flashes of blue and red light up the street as paramedics rush through the doors. Your head lies in Chris’ lap. Silence. The music has stopped, people silently leaving. All that could be heard was the paramedics telling Chris that he has to move so they can help you.

The paramedics put you on a stretcher putting you in the ambulance. Chris sits in the back with you as the ambulance rushes through traffic. He holds onto your hand rubbing his thumb across the back of it. The ambulance comes to a stop and the paramedics stand up open the doors.

Doctors speed over " Y/N L/N,19,possible overdose, intubated on arrival." One paramedic shouts before leaving you with the doctors, "sir you're gonna have to wait in the waiting area the nurse can show you." A nurse walks up to him. "Is she okay, that's ill I need to kno-" Chris gets cut off by the nurse, "We will get someone to update you frequently please sit down."

Chris waits for what felt like decades before a doctor comes over. "Because your girlfriend has overdosed on drugs we need to know if it was intentional or not." He says another doctor stood beside him, obviously a psychiatrics doctor. He shakes his head "I really don't know, is she okay?" Chris isn't in the right mind to correct the doctor who called you his girlfriend in fact he was gonna ask you to be his girl a few days ago but you ignored his asks to meet up. the doctor nods, "Yes she is okay, she's on medicine right now, you can go and see her but she has restraints on her wrists because he could be a threat you or herself."

"okay.." Chris replies walking towards your room. He walks in head down as he plays with his hands, he looks up meeting your hooded eyes. Chris rushes over a wave off relief goes through him, that you're okay. "Chris why are you here?" you whisper your voice hoarse and croaky. Chris looks down at you and speaks "you think I'd leave my girl, I care about you ma." you sigh blinking letting tears fall. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" you cry into his arms "Its okay, I'm here y/n you need to talk to me when you're feeling like this." Chris runs his fingers through your hair. You nod in his embrace.

"Y/n the doctors need to know if it was intentional." Chris looks at you with a pleading look holding onto your hands as two doctors stand near the back of the room. All you can do is nod, Chris sighs looking back at the doctors.

2 months later

Today was your last day in the mental health ward, Chris, your friends and family had visited you over the weeks but Chris saw you more. He was picking you up in an hour and you were so excited you sorted out all your things before having one last therapy session before they move to one every other week. "Its your last day how are you feeling?" your therapist asked you to which you smile. " I feel good, I've learnt to talk to someone if I'm struggling and I know who those people are."

You're in the car Chris' hand on your thigh as he drives through traffic, "I'm happy you're better y/n" Chris breaks the silence, you look at him smiling. Chris drove you back to his walking you to his room. On his desk lay a box of chocolates your favorite a card and a bouquet of flowers. You look up at Chris your jaw slightly slack, he nods his head to the card. The card read 'I'm so proud of how far you've came y/n . Will you be my girlfriend?'

you look up from the card walking over to Chris wrapping your arms around his neck hugging him. "yes! Yes I'll be your girlfriend!" You say loudly moving your head back to kiss him, he reciprocates kissing you back placing his hands on your waist.

[estellan0vella]

Love In Print│Bang Chan

Chapter Twenty: Freckles Of Deceit SS: - (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 6.1K Content Warnings:

Previous Next Masterlist

As Chan and Ayame descend the stairs, their hands clasped together, Ayame huffs quietly, her heels clicking against the polished wood. Chan's grip tightens slightly each time she takes a step, as though she might faceplant at any moment.

"Seriously," Ayame says, throwing him an exasperated glance. "I practically live in stilettos. Your knight-in-shining-armour act is wasted on me."

"I'm being a gentleman," Chan retorts, not letting go. "And this is the thanks I get? Unbelievable. You're mean, shortcake."

"At least I'm consistent," Ayame quips, tugging lightly against his grip as if testing his resolve. Spoiler: he doesn't let go.

At the bottom of the staircase, Ayame stops abruptly, causing Chan to bump into her slightly. She turns to face him, narrowing her eyes. "Your tie's crooked."

"I'm not falling for that one again," Chan says immediately, taking a step back. "You're gonna pull it tight like you're in the fucking mafia, aren't you?"

Ayame rolls her eyes, stepping closer anyway. "You're impossible. It's actually crooked, genius. Stay still."

Chan stays frozen, watching her fingers deftly adjust the knot. She works quickly, her eyes focused, and he feels the warmth of her hands brushing against his chest through the fabric of his shirt. When she steps back, she tilts her head, inspecting her handiwork.

"There. Fixed," she says, satisfied.

"No attempted strangulation?" Chan teases, his voice low, as his hands move to rest lightly on her arms.

Ayame smirks up at him. "Nope. I need you alive for later. Dead men can't do all the things I'm imagining right now."

Chan barks out a laugh, his grip on her arms tightening slightly. "No more discount Chan?"

Ayame shakes her head, her smirk softening into something more genuine. "Nope. I prefer the real thing."

Chan's grin falters for a moment as something warm flickers in his gaze. His eyes flicker down to her dress, lingering for a beat before he meets her eyes again. "You look gorgeous in this, by the way. It matches your eyes."

Ayame blinks, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his tone. She's about to reply when a high-pitched, cheerful voice cuts through the moment.

"Chris!"

They both turn toward the source, and a petite, elegant woman strides toward them. She's dressed in a form-fitting navy dress, her dark hair swept into an effortless updo. Her face lights up as she closes the distance, pulling Chan into a tight hug.

"Hi, Ma," Chan greets, his voice softer as he wraps an arm around her.

"You made it!" Jess exclaims, pulling back slightly to pat his cheek. "You didn't even text me when you got here, you brat."

"I got distracted," Chan says, glancing at Ayame with a sheepish grin.

Jess follows his gaze, her eyes landing on Ayame. Her smile widens instantly. "Oh! And who's this?"

Ayame steps forward, extending her hand. "I'm Ayame. It's so nice to meet you, Dr. Bang."

Jess waves off the title with a laugh. "Oh, call me Jess, please. 'Dr. Bang' makes me sound like I'm about to perform a colonoscopy. And finally, I get to meet you!" Jess takes Ayame's hands in hers, her grip warm and firm. "She's just adorable, Chris. I'm keeping her. Forever."

Ayame lets out a nervous laugh, glancing at Chan. He's grinning like the Cheshire Cat, clearly enjoying her flustered reaction. "Uh, thanks. That's very... sweet."

"Sweet, smart, beautiful," Jess says, tilting her head as she examines Ayame with the precision of a seasoned surgeon. "What else am I missing?"

"I'm really good at Mario Kart," Ayame offers weakly.

Jess laughs, delighted. "Oh, I like her, Chris. I like her so much."

Chan shrugs, his voice laced with amusement. "Told you she was a catch."

Jess glances between them, her smile growing sly. "Well, don't just stand here. The rest of the family is going to love her."

"Oh no," Ayame mutters under her breath, shooting a glare at Chan who smirks. "You set me up."

The snow drifts softly down, landing on Ayame's hair and shoulders as she adjusts her green dress. Sitting next to Chan in the front row, she sneaks a glance at his father, Jack, whose expression is as cold as the weather. Jess sits on Chan's other side, beaming, a stark contrast to her husband's stone-like demeanour.

Jack leans over, his voice low and sharp. "Didn't think you'd show up. Not after the last time."

Chan's jaw tightens, but before he can respond, Jess places a gentle hand on her husband's arm. "Jack," she says brightly, deflecting. "This is Ayame, Chris's date."

Jack's gaze shifts to Ayame, scanning her from head to toe with a barely concealed frown. "You look young," he says bluntly, before turning his attention back to the aisle as if she isn't worth another second.

Ayame blinks, momentarily stunned by the sheer audacity. She leans toward Chan, whispering, "Your dad makes you look like a fucking Care Bear."

Chan stifles a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand. "A Care Bear?"

"Yeah," Ayame murmurs, glancing at Jack. "But like... the kind that eats children in its free time."

Chan shakes with silent laughter, his shoulders vibrating against hers. "Stop," he hisses under his breath. "You're going to get me in trouble."

"You're already in trouble," Ayame replies smugly. "Might as well have fun while we're here."

The opening chords of the wedding march begin to play, drawing their attention to the aisle. Felix appears at the far end, his tailored black tuxedo fitting him like a glove. The lights reflect off his perfectly styled blonde hair, and his freckles give him a boyish charm that balances his sharp, sophisticated look.

Ayame leans toward Chan, her voice soft but teasing. "Your brother cleans up well. Too bad he's not single."

Chan gives her a sidelong glance. "Don't even think about it, shortcake. He's a good guy. You'd ruin him."

Ayame pretends to sigh dramatically. "Damn. There goes my chance at happiness."

"Play some Bonnie Tyler," Chan mutters. "Where have all the good men gone?"

Ayame snickers, biting her lip to keep from laughing too loudly.

The flower girl starts down the aisle, her tiny hands flinging petals with wild abandon. Half of them don't even land on the aisle, but her determined expression earns her a collective "aww" from the crowd.

"She's adorable," Ayame whispers, her tone genuinely warm.

"Not as adorable as you freezing your ass off," Chan retorts, noticing her arms crossed tightly against the chill.

"I'm fine," Ayame insists, her teeth chattering faintly. "You wanted me to wear this dress because it's booby, so I'm toughing it out."

Chan doesn't reply with words. Instead, he wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. The warmth of his body seeps through her thin dress, and Ayame allows herself to lean into him slightly, though she refuses to admit it feels good.

"Better?" he asks, smirking.

"Shut up," she mutters, though her lips twitch upward.

As Soojin appears at the end of the aisle, Ayame's attention shifts. The bride is radiant in a sparkling white gown that hugs her figure before flaring into a dramatic train. Her glossy hair and flawless makeup scream perfection, and Felix's expression lights up with pure adoration as she approaches.

Jess dabs at her eyes with a tissue, whispering, "She looks so beautiful."

"She does," Ayame agrees, then leans toward Chan, her voice low. "But, uh, has she got lip fillers?"

Chan doesn't miss a beat. "And Botox. Half her face is frozen. She's had everything done—lips, jawline, cheekbones. Her face is worth more than my car. Probably wouldn't even dent if she was shot out of a cannon into a tree."

Ayame chokes back a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. "You're such a gossip."

"Stick with me, shortcake," Chan replies, his tone light. "There's plenty more where that came from."

As the ceremony begins, Ayame shifts in her seat, trying to stay warm and interested. Chan notices her restlessness and leans closer. "Bored already?"

"I thought weddings were supposed to be fun," Ayame mutters, glancing at him.

Chan smirks. "Not when my father and Soojin's father paid for it, and her mom planned the whole thing. That woman has the personality of unbuttered toast."

Ayame grins, leaning into him slightly. "I like this side of you—the honest, slightly bitter Chan. Feels real."

He chuckles, his thumb brushing her shoulder absentmindedly. "Stick around, and you'll see all my sides."

As Felix and Soojin exchange their vows, Ayame tilts her head, watching the scene unfold. Despite her usual cynicism, she feels a small tug at her heart. She glances at Chan, who's watching his brother with quiet pride.

"I bet you'd make a good groom," she whispers, the words slipping out before she can stop them.

Chan's gaze flicks to her, his smirk softening into something gentler. "Maybe. But I think I'd need a pretty great partner for that."

Ayame raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching. "Good luck finding one."

Chan grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I think I'm on the right track."

Ayame stands by the bar, clutching an empty champagne flute in one hand. A waiter glides past, and with the precision of a seasoned wedding attendee, she snags a fresh glass of champagne. She barely raises it to her lips when a voice slices through the pleasant hum of the reception.

"Felix's family is driving me fucking insane. Please tell me you have a joint hidden somewhere."

Ayame turns to see Soojin, the bride herself, standing next to her. She's stunning, of course, with her gown catching the light like a goddamn diamond commercial. But there's a sharpness in her gaze and a mischievous curl to her lips that Ayame immediately respects.

"Oh, I fucking wish," Ayame replies, a grin tugging at her mouth.

Soojin sighs dramatically, leaning against the bar like a damsel in distress. "Meth, then? Rat poison? Any controlled substance to get me through another conversation with Dr. Jack Bang."

Ayame laughs, shaking her head. "Sorry to disappoint. Just champagne over here."

Soojin clicks her tongue. "Ugh, you're so boring. But thanks for not lying to me. Everyone else keeps telling me how perfect everything is. Even my mother-in-law is acting like I didn't veto half her ideas."

Ayame chuckles. "It's a beautiful wedding, though."

Soojin waves her off, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, thanks. I had to threaten the florist's firstborn to make it happen, but sure. Anyway, you're Ayame, right?"

Ayame freezes for half a second but nods, holding her glass a little tighter. "That's me."

Soojin gives her a knowing look, her smile widening. "I've been dying to meet you. Felix keeps saying you're the reason Chris actually showed up today."

Ayame blinks, caught off guard. "I'm pretty sure that's not true."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure it is," Soojin replies, leaning in slightly, her voice dropping conspiratorially. "Chris doesn't come to family stuff unless someone drags him there. And, babe, you've got 'dragged him here' written all over you."

Ayame forces a small laugh, unsure of how to respond. "Well, I guess I'm doing my part."

Soojin's gaze sharpens, her smile turning sly. "Worked out for the best, though, right? I mean, Chris and I were never a good match."

Ayame's brain stalls. "Sorry—what?"

Soojin tilts her head, her expression turning playful. "Oh my god. He didn't tell you, did he? Chris and I dated for, like, a year."

Ayame's stomach flips. "A year?" she echoes, her voice carefully neutral.

Soojin nods, laughing lightly. "Yeah, back when Felix and I were just friends. Honestly, Chris and I never really clicked. It was always... I don't know, surface-level? But Felix? We just made sense in every way. Once we figured that out, everything fell into place."

Ayame stares at her, every muscle in her body tightening. "Huh," she says, her voice dry. "Imagine that."

"And you're only twenty-five, right?" Soojin adds, her tone too casual to be anything but pointed.

Ayame's nails dig into the stem of her glass. "That's right."

Soojin leans back, her smile softening. "Well, you've done a great job, you know. Keeping Chris grounded. That's not easy. Anyway, I should go mingle before Jess notices I'm avoiding her. It was nice meeting you."

Before Ayame can respond, Soojin drifts off, radiant and carefree, leaving Ayame standing alone by the bar with a hollow feeling in her chest.

She glances across the room and locks eyes with Chan. He's standing with Jess and Felix, mid-laugh, but the moment their gazes meet, his expression shifts. His smile falters, and his eyes widen slightly as he notices Soojin walking away from Ayame.

Ayame lifts her glass in mock salute before draining it in one go, the champagne burning its way down her throat. She waves down a passing waiter, holding up her empty glass. "Another, please," she snaps, her voice sharper than she intends.

Chan starts to step toward her but hesitates, caught by Jess's hand on his arm. He looks back at Ayame, concern flickering across his face, but she's already downing her second glass like it's water.

The waiter returns with a third, and Ayame takes it without hesitation. Her hand shakes slightly as she raises it to her lips. "Cheers," she mutters bitterly, her voice low. "To clarity. And fucking chaos."

The cold bites at Ayame's exposed arms as she leans against the railing at the lookout point, staring blankly over the snowy landscape. The lodge, surrounded by towering pines and draped in white, looks like something out of a postcard. But Ayame doesn't feel the magic. Her dress is useless against the biting chill, yet going back inside feels impossible—too many fake smiles and polite conversations waiting to swallow her whole.

Behind her, the crunch of footsteps through the snow breaks the stillness. Ayame doesn't turn, her jaw tightening as the sound draws closer. She knows who it is before she hears his voice.

"You're going to freeze your ass off, shortcake," Chan says, shrugging off his coat and draping it over her shoulders.

Ayame pulls the coat tight around herself, but she doesn't look at him. "Who let you off your leash? Did your family even notice you left?"

Chan leans against the railing beside her, hands shoved into his pockets. "Not yet. What are you doing out here in nothing but a dress? Trying to test your limits?"

She shrugs, keeping her gaze fixed on the distant treeline. "Needed some air. People in there talk too much."

"Pot, meet kettle," Chan teases gently. "You're the queen of running your mouth."

"Yeah, but I'm funny," Ayame shoots back. "Everyone else in there just wants to talk about how the napkins match the floral arrangements."

Chan chuckles under his breath. "Fair point."

For a moment, neither of them says anything. The silence between them is heavier than the snow falling softly around them. Finally, Ayame breaks it, her voice quieter now.

"Is she the reason you brought me here?" she asks, not meeting his gaze.

Chan straightens slightly, frowning. "What are you talking about?"

"Soojin," Ayame clarifies, turning to face him at last. "Did you bring me here because of her? Because you wanted to rub it in her face or something?"

His brow furrows, confusion giving way to something softer. "No. No, Ayame, I brought you here because I wanted you here. That's it."

She narrows her eyes at him, the corners of her mouth pulling down. "Then why the fuck didn't you tell me about her?"

Chan exhales, the cloud of his breath disappearing into the cold air. "Because I didn't think it mattered anymore. And honestly? I didn't want to talk about it. It's embarrassing."

"Embarrassing?" Ayame echoes, incredulous. "You didn't cheat, Chan. You didn't dump her for her sibling. You're the one who got fucked over."

He looks away, his jaw tightening. "Yeah, but telling people about it makes it real, you know? And everyone already sees Felix as perfect. I didn't need another reason to feel like the failure in the family."

Ayame studies him for a long moment, her irritation softening into something more empathetic. "Chan, your brother might be the golden child, but he's got freckles of deceit."

A startled laugh escapes Chan, and he turns to her, his smirk returning. "Freckles of deceit?"

"Yup." Ayame nods solemnly. "And Soojin? Fake lips, fake ass, fake personality."

Chan huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "You don't hold back, do you?"

"Not when I'm right," she replies, lifting her chin. "Which is all the time."

He leans on the railing again, looking out over the snow. "You're not wrong. It's just hard seeing them together. Like, it shouldn't bother me anymore, but it does."

"Of course it does," Ayame says, her tone softening. "You're not a robot. Today sucks for you."

Chan glances at her, his lips quirking into a small smile. "It sucks less with you here."

She grins, linking her arm through his. "Damn right. Now, let's go find some booze. I'm pretty sure champagne is the only thing keeping this family reunion bearable."

Chan laughs, shaking his head. "I'll drink to that."

As they turn back toward the lodge, Ayame glances up at him, her sly grin returning. "Oh, and just so you know, apparently I'm your 'younger model.' That's what everyone in there is calling me."

Chan snorts, his shoulders shaking. "Figures. You're way cuter than Soojin, though."

"Damn straight," Ayame says, nudging him playfully.

Together, Ayame and Chan walk back into the reception hall. The warm glow of the lights and soft hum of laughter and conversation fill the air. Jess spots them almost immediately, her warm smile shifting to mild curiosity.

"Oh, where have you two been?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Outside," Chan says smoothly, snagging two champagne flutes from a passing waiter and handing one to Ayame. His movements are so casual, so practiced, it's almost infuriating. "Needed some fresh air."

Jess's eyes narrow slightly as she looks between them, her maternal instincts clearly on high alert, but she decides to let it slide. She turns back to Jack, who's deep in conversation with Felix. However, Jack, ever the hawk, zeroes in on Ayame.

"Ayame," Jack says, his voice carrying just enough bite to make it clear he's baiting her. "When you first met Chris, what did you think?"

Ayame tilts her head to the side, feigning a moment of thoughtful consideration. Then, with a sweet smile that could cut glass, she says, "Hmm. I thought he was very good-looking, cold, domineering, and freakishly uptight."

Jack lets out a sharp laugh, clearly not expecting the jab. "I thought you needed ambition to be domineering."

"Jack," Jess snaps, shooting her husband a glare that could freeze fire.

"I'm kidding," Jack says with a faint smirk, though the edge in his tone remains.

Chan, leaning casually against the bar beside Ayame, grins. "For the record, I thought Ayame was very smart, but also a spineless kiss-ass."

Ayame gasps, mock-offended. "Excuse me?"

"It's true," Chan replies, raising his champagne glass with a wink. "It was hate at first sight."

Ayame shakes her head, raising her glass to meet his. "Cheers to that."

"Cheers," Chan echoes, clinking his glass against hers.

Felix approaches their small group, tapping Jack on the shoulder. "Dad, it's time for the speech."

Jack nods, standing and adjusting his tie. "Speech time, huh? Your mother wrote me some notes, but I think I'll just wing it."

"Oh, god," Chan mutters under his breath, dragging a hand down his face. "Lord give us all fucking strength"

Ayame leans in closer to him, her voice low. "Is this going to be bad?"

"Buckle up, shortcake," he whispers. "This is going to be a fucking ride."

Jack steps into the centre of the room, clearing his throat as the murmuring dies down. "I always expected great things from my son," he begins, his voice carrying a note of formality. "And he has never disappointed me. He excelled in med school and has become a truly remarkable physician. It's been an honour to watch him grow into the man he is today. A son any father would be proud of."

Ayame feels Chan's hand brush against hers, and she glances at him. His face is impassive, but his grip tightens slightly when she laces her fingers through his.

Jack continues, his voice warming slightly. "But of all the decisions Felix has made, marrying Soojin is easily the best. She's the perfect complement to him, and I couldn't ask for a better addition to this family."

The applause is polite but warm as Jack steps back, raising his glass toward the couple. Soojin beams, clutching Felix's hand tightly, but Ayame doesn't miss the way Chan's jaw tightens.

As the crowd disperses to mingle again, Chan leans down and murmurs, "Cover for me."

Ayame nods, watching him slip out of the room. She weaves through the guests until she ends up by the massive Christmas tree in the lodge lobby. The soft glow of the lights reflects off the ornaments, giving the scene a picture-perfect holiday feel.

Jess approaches with a knowing smile. "Hi, dear. Have you seen Chris?"

Ayame doesn't even flinch, smoothly lying through her teeth. "He went to find some painkillers. Said he had a headache."

Jess sighs, shaking her head. "That speech probably didn't help. Jack should've just stuck to my prepared remarks."

Ayame offers a sympathetic smile. "He did seem... off-script."

Jess laughs softly, stepping closer. "I'm glad you're here, Ayame. Chris has been talking about you for months."

Ayame blinks, caught off guard. "Months?"

Jess nods, her expression softening. "He says you drive him crazy—in a good way. That you challenge him like no one else does. I think taking that job at the publishing house might've been the best thing he ever did. And meeting you? That's probably the second-best."

Ayame's cheeks flush, and she ducks her head, unsure of how to respond. Before she can, Felix appears, grinning.

"You made it through the speech," he says lightly. Then his eyes flick to Ayame. "Ayame, you look much better."

Ayame narrows her eyes at him. "You prescribed me banana antibiotics."

Felix chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, it was effective, wasn't it?"

"I almost puked on my friend," Ayame counters dryly.

Jess places a hand on Felix's arm. "I need to get back inside before your father has another drink and starts telling everyone about his college days."

Ayame leans against the sturdy wooden post beside the massive Christmas tree, her champagne flute dangling from her fingertips. Felix stands beside her, his blonde hair catching the soft glow of the tree's twinkling lights. Outside, snow drifts lazily against the frosted glass windows, painting the lodge in a serene winter wonderland scene.

The silence between them stretches, comfortable but fragile, until Felix clears his throat and asks, "Do you think badly of me now?"

Ayame doesn't answer immediately. Instead, she stares into her champagne, her lips curving into a wry smile. "Freckles of deceit," she says dryly, tilting her head to look at him. "Blonde hair of betrayal. And that stupid Disney Prince face? Designed purely to deceive."

Felix lets out a laugh, the sound warm and genuine. "Fair enough. But in my defence, I didn't exactly plan for everything to happen the way it did."

"Oh, no?" Ayame drawls, turning to face him fully now, her expression sharp but not unkind. "Did you just accidentally fall into your brother's girlfriend? Was it a slip-and-slide situation?"

Felix winces, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ouch. Okay, I deserve that."

Ayame crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, you do."

He exhales, his breath fogging slightly in the chilly air of the lobby. "Look, I know I'm the asshole in this story, but... it wasn't what you think. Soojin and Chris weren't happy together. She was already halfway out the door when we- When it happened."

Ayame stares at him for a long moment, her face unreadable. "Halfway out the door doesn't mean you push her the rest of the way."

Felix opens his mouth to argue but stops, instead nodding slowly. "You're right."

"Damn right, I am," Ayame mutters, taking the last sip of her champagne and setting the glass down on a nearby table.

Felix watches her, a small, almost sad smile playing on his lips. "You're good for him, you know."

Ayame snorts, rolling her eyes. "Oh, yeah? What makes you think that?"

"I'm serious," Felix says, his tone earnest now. "I've never seen Chris like this. He's lighter, even when he's being an uptight bastard. It's like you've... balanced him out somehow."

"Balanced him out?" Ayame echoes, her voice tinged with disbelief. "You do realize most of our dynamic is me pissing him off, right?"

Felix laughs again, his dimples on full display. "Exactly. He needs that. Someone to challenge him. Chris is so used to being the one in control, the one everyone looks up to. You don't give a shit about any of that. You treat him like he's just... him."

Ayame's teasing expression falters for a moment, her gaze softening. "Huh," she says quietly, more to herself than to Felix.

Felix smiles, offering her his arm. "Come on, let's get back in there before my mother sends out a search party. You don't want to see her in full panic mode."

Ayame hesitates for a beat before slipping her arm through his, her fingers brushing lightly against the soft fabric of his tuxedo jacket. "Fine," she mutters, shaking her head. "But you still have to live with the fact that I'll never let you forget this. Ever."

"Fair trade," Felix replies, grinning as he leads her back toward the reception room. "But for the record, you might be my new favourite person. Don't tell my wife."

Ayame snorts, smirking. "Don't worry. She'd never believe you anyway."

As Ayame and Felix step into the wedding reception, the tension in the air is suffocating. Jack's voice, sharp and full of venom, cuts across the room, silencing the low murmur of conversation.

"An MBA," Jack sneers, standing tall and imperious, "and you're wasting your days running errands and playing house with some younger tramp who flaunts her tits like that makes up for her lack of brains."

Ayame's champagne flute trembles in her hand as her grip tightens. The crystal stem threatens to snap. Beside her, Felix winces, muttering, "I am so fucking sorry for him."

"It's fine," Ayame says tightly, though the edge in her voice suggests otherwise. "We aren't our parents."

Across the room, Jess places a hand on Jack's arm, her face pinched with frustration. "Jack," she says, her voice low but firm, "maybe you should take a walk before you say something you regret."

"I don't regret anything," Jack replies coldly, brushing her off.

And then Chan speaks, his tone calm but deadly sharp. "You do not talk about Ayame like that."

Jack scoffs, his disdain palpable. "Christopher, if you're content wasting your life, that's your problem. But let's not pretend you've made anything of yourself. If you don't want to be a doctor, at least have the decency to do something marginally noble."

Ayame steps forward, her heels clicking against the floor like a countdown to detonation. She narrows her eyes, her posture rigid as she stares Jack down. "You don't think publishing is noble?" she challenges, her voice loud enough to draw the attention of several nearby guests. "Contributing to culture? Creating stories that change lives?"

Jack barely looks at her, his lips curling in disdain. "I don't think your boy is making books, sweetheart. I think he's fetching coffee for somebody who is."

Ayame's jaw clenches, her fists curling at her sides. "Do not call me sweetheart," she says, her tone icy.

Jack finally turns to her, his gaze sweeping over her like she's insignificant. "And what are you going to do about it? You're just his young slut, flaunting your body to get places. You think you belong here?"

Chan's hand slams against the table, the sound reverberating through the room. Guests flinch, and Jess's eyes widen in shock. "Enough! You do not talk to her like that."

"Chan, it's fine," Ayame says, her voice low but steady, though her eyes blaze with fury. She places a hand on his arm, stopping him before he can escalate further. "Really. It's fine."

Chan turns to her, his expression conflicted, but Ayame shakes her head, gently pulling his hand away. She steps forward, squaring her shoulders and addressing Jack directly.

"You clearly know nothing about your son," she says, her voice calm but cutting. "So let me fill you in real quick."

"Ayame—" Chan starts, his voice softer now, but she cuts him off with a look.

"No, Chan," she says firmly. "He needs to hear this."

The room is holding its collective breath as Ayame sweeps her gaze around the gathered guests. "I'm sorry for the interruption," she says with mock politeness. "I actually like most of you. Really, you've been lovely. But this fucking guy?" She points a perfectly manicured finger at Jack. "He's a fucking dick."

Felix lets out a loud, unfiltered snort into his champagne, and Soojin quickly hides her laugh behind her hand, her shoulders shaking.

Jess covers her mouth, torn between horror and amusement, while Jack's face turns an alarming shade of red.

Ayame takes a step closer to Jack, her chin tilting up defiantly. "Chan has more integrity, more grit, and more brains in his little finger than you've ever had. You think he's wasting his life? Newsflash, your perfect little surgeon golden boy over there-" She gestures to Felix, who raises his glass with a sheepish grin. "-spent years following your orders, and you know what? Even he thinks you're full of shit."

"Ayame," Felix mutters, his tone half-warning, half-impressed.

Ayame squares her shoulders, her voice cutting through the murmurs in the room. "Chan's boss, who is CEO in title only, is a sleazy prick who can't even tie his own shoelaces without fucking it up. Chan runs that place. Actually, we both do."

A collective gasp ripples through the room, but Ayame doesn't flinch. She holds Jack's gaze, unrelenting. "The only reason L&M didn't go up in flames after the merger is because Chan oversaw a reduction of the workforce by- What was it?" She glances at Chan for confirmation.

Chan raises three fingers on one hand and five on the other.

"Fifty-three percent?" Ayame guesses, quirking an eyebrow.

Chan shakes his head, barely containing his amusement. "Thirty-five."

"Thirty-five percent," Ayame corrects herself, smirking. "Like I said, the whole time. Because I don't make mistakes. And because of that, over two hundred people kept their jobs. Two hundred families didn't lose their livelihoods. But yeah, Jack, he's not a doctor. Who the fuck cares?"

Felix snorts, turning away to hide his laughter. Soojin elbows him, her lips twitching as she tries not to grin. An elderly woman nearby gasps audibly, clutching her pearls like they're the only thing keeping her upright.

Ayame steps closer to Jack, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. "Here's what you don't get, Mr. Bang. Chan is smart. He's relentless. He's made me better at my job because I've had to compete with him every single day. He's the reason L&M didn't implode. He's the reason people still have jobs. And the fact that you can't see that your son is fucking amazing is... sad. Honestly, it's pathetic."

Jack opens his mouth to speak, but Ayame cuts him off, raising a finger. "And another thing, your whole dismissive attitude? The 'tramp' comments? It says a lot more about you than it does about me. And for the record, I flaunt my tits because they're fucking amazing, not to impress any man."

The elderly woman gasps again, louder this time, as if the weight of Ayame's words has knocked the air right out of her. Jess presses a hand to her mouth, her eyes sparkling with barely concealed laughter as Chan grins widely.

Ayame turns to Soojin and Felix, her tone suddenly lighter. "Anyway, congratulations to the happy couple. You both look stunning."

She pivots back to Jack, her smile disappearing. "And as for you? Fuck you, Mr. Bang. Fuck your outdated, arrogant opinions. Chan, let's go home."

Chan, who has been watching with an expression of unrestrained delight, grins even wider. "Best idea I've heard all day."

He steps up beside Ayame, slipping his hand around her waist as they turn to leave. Ayame pauses, glancing at Jess. Her expression softens as she says, "Jess, it was lovely meeting you."

Jess steps forward, cupping Ayame's face and planting a warm kiss on her cheek. "You too, darling. You're always welcome in our home. Well, mine, at least."

"Thank you," Ayame says, her voice sincere.

Jess turns to her son, her expression firm but loving. "Chris, call me later. I'm serious."

"Will do, Ma," Chan replies, grinning.

As they make their way toward the door, Felix raises his champagne glass, his voice loud and clear. "To Ayame. The best thing to ever happen to this wedding."

"To Ayame!" Soojin echoes, laughing as she clinks glasses with Felix.

Ayame glances back at the room one last time, catching Jack's stunned expression and Jess's knowing smile. She smirks, tilting her head toward Chan. "Ready to go?"

"Absolutely," Chan says, his arm tightening around her waist as they step out into the snowy afternoon.

Ayame links her arm through Chan's as they stride quickly out of the reception hall. The chilly afternoon air bites at her exposed skin, but the sting is nothing compared to the rush of adrenaline still surging through her. She glances back over her shoulder, cheeks flushed. "Oh my god, everyone was staring."

"You almost killed my aunt," Chan says with a teasing lilt, his voice vibrating with amusement. "She was clutching her pearls so hard I thought they'd snap."

Ayame groans, rolling her eyes. "I am so sorry. Truly, I didn't mean to give her a heart attack."

Chan laughs, his dimples deepening, making him look far younger than thirty. "Don't be. That was fucking brilliant, Lim Ayame. I'm actually mad I didn't record it. You verbally annihilated my father in front of all those people."

Ayame glares at him, tugging him forward. "Walk faster, people are staring!"

Chan slows deliberately, grinning. "Let them stare. You just delivered the speech of the century. Might as well bask in it."

"No, no, no," Ayame mutters. "I don't want them looking. I want to disappear. This is mortifying."

Chan's hand tightens gently around her arm, his tone soft but insistent. "Stop caring what people think, shortcake. They don't matter."

Ayame shoots him a deadpan look. "I can't help it. It's a disease. People-pleasing disorder."

"You need an antidote," Chan says, laughing as they reach his car. "Come on, hop in."

Ayame slides into the passenger seat with a dramatic sigh, crossing her legs and smoothing her dress. "I should be banned from weddings."

Chan slides in beside her, adjusts his mirrors, and starts the car. "If anything, you should be invited to more of them. You made that wedding memorable."

As they pull out of the snowy parking lot, Chan reaches over, resting his hand on Ayame's bare thigh. His fingers are warm, his thumb tracing slow circles against her skin. The motion sends a shiver up her spine, though she doesn't let it show.

"You're going to kill me," Ayame mutters, staring pointedly at his hand.

Chan smirks, his eyes focused on the road. "Oh, relax. It's just a hand."

"It's your hand," Ayame shoots back, her voice sharper than she intends. "There's nothing casual about it."

Chan's grin widens, his thumb pressing slightly harder. "You're dramatic, you know that?"

"Hmm, says the man who smirks like he's the villain in a K-drama," Ayame counters, resting her elbow on the door and staring out at the falling snow.

Chan chuckles. "So, what now?"

"Naked time," Ayame says matter-of-factly, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

Chan barks out a laugh, his head falling back briefly before he focuses on the road again. "After naked time?"

Ayame pretends to think. "Rehydration? I don't know. Maybe we can solve world hunger if we're feeling ambitious."

Chan glances at her, his tone growing quieter, more serious. "Ayame, I've had a lot of women tell me I'm not the kind of guy you settle down with."

Ayame freezes for a moment, caught off guard by the shift in tone. "Is this where I start playing the tiny violin?"

Chan exhales, his hand pausing its motion on her thigh. "What I'm saying is, I'm not that guy to most people. But I want to be."

Ayame blinks, her gaze softening as she studies his profile. "You think that's what I'm doing? Just fucking around with you until I find someone else?"

Chan shrugs, his jaw tight. "I don't know. But I hope not."

She shifts in her seat, turning to face him more fully. "Bang Chan, you are a puzzle. One minute, you're shoving me into closets and pissing me off. The next, you're saying shit like this."

Chan glances at her, his expression lighter now, teasing. "Closets were your idea, by the way."

Ayame huffs out a laugh, rolling her eyes. "Whatever."

They fall into a comfortable silence for a moment, the tension between them easing slightly. Then Ayame sits up straighter, pointing out the window. "Drive-through. Coffee. Now."

Chan raises an eyebrow, smirking. "Bossy."

Ayame smirks back. "Damn right. You're paying, by the way."

Chan shakes his head, laughing as he steers the car toward the drive-through. "Anything else?"

"Maybe," Ayame says, her voice light but laced with mischief. "Depends on how good the whipped cream is."

Chan laughs, the sound warm and full as they roll up to the menu board. Outside, the snow falls in thick, lazy flakes, but inside the car, the world feels a little brighter, a little warmer, and infinitely more charged.

Taglist: @fackeraccount @ot8girlfie @nightmarenyxx @reimaybeidk

@ismelllikechlorine247 @drewsandsebastianswife @my-neurodivergent-world @rhonnie23 @hanji-coffee

@skzleeknowcore

[bluiela]

e/riels: you self-insert yourself in Gwyn and you hate elain that's why you ship gwynriel (yes someone told me this on TikTok comment section and 2 more people replied to them agreeing that all gwynriels self-insert and its "obvious")

These guys really need to stop self-projecting their feelings onto us, they think that they do it, so everyone does as well.

Ma'am my personality is nothing like Gwyn and Gwyn is too established and fleshed out to self-insert into.

My personality is 80% elain (if comparing) and I'm not kidding. (I am a people pleasing, gardening, baking loving coddled baby of my family)

If I wanted to self-project, then I would on her and no I don't hate her character, If I did, I wouldn't go through all this harassment for 4 years and still engage with her content on a daily.

[wabatle]

Would you be able to do a Lucifer from Obey Me request for some comfort for an MC who’s had a tough day? Just too many things happened all at once with no breaks in between the madness and they’re completely wiped out emotionally and emotionally charged from all the stupid things happening around their day? I’d love some comfort character for a rainy day which I feel like will be happening sooner rather than later.

𓆩⚝𓆪 — After a long day

𓆩⚝𓆪 — Warnings: touching but very fluffy, reader feels sick and just genuinely had a terrible day

𓆩⚝𓆪 — Contains: fluff, comfort ~0.8k wc

𓆩⚝𓆪 — A/N: I had a great time writing this ty for the request!! sorry it took so long omg this req was from october 😭

It’s been such a long day. You’re tired, utterly exhausted. You’re not even aware of how to explain why you feel like this, other than you, “just woke up on the wrong side of bed.” So many things have happened today. You had five tests today, still had to keep up promises you had made the day before, had constantly been smothered and overwhelmed by whichever brothers were around you at the time, and not only that, you’ve also felt sick the entire day since you’ve barely had enough time to eat or drink. You feel awful.

You finally arrived back at the HoL, but you didn't really feel like doing anything, let alone the stacks and stacks of homework you were sent home with.

You went straight to your room, throwing your things on the table and crashing down onto your bed. You rubbed your face with your hands.

You spent the next few minutes mindlessly doomscrolling on your D.D.D, until you were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“___? Are you in there?” It was Lucifer.

“Mhm,” you quietly breathed out.

“I’m coming in.” He replied, pushing the door open.

Without a word, he laid down beside you, your bed creaking as he did so. “What’s going on?” He asked you, gently grazing your cheek with his fingers.

“I don’t really want to talk about it.” You whispered, averting his gaze.

“That’s alright, just… let me know if you want to talk, okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Is there anything I can do to try to distract you?” He asked.

“Um… Not really.”

“Do you want me to stay or go?”

“Stay. Please.”

“Of course.” He opened his arms, allowing you to relax comfortably in them. He gently stroked your head.

A few minutes passed, with nothing but tranquil silence until you spoke.

“It’s just… been a really long day.”

He waited until you were ready to speak again.

“Y’know, the five tests started it. And then your brothers were overwhelming me.”

He sighed heavily.

“And since I had to study during lunch, I didn't get to eat or drink. I feel really sick. And I'm on dinner duty tonight.”

“Mm.” He breathed, kissing your head. “I'll gladly help you with your homework,” he paused, kissing you once more, “and I'll make one of my brothers take over dinner duty for you. Since it's for you, I'm sure there won't be any complaints.”

You sighed. “Thank you.”

“If you want me to, I can speak with my brothers about their constant affection.”

“No, it's not necessary, it just… was a bad time, I guess.”

“That's understandable. That's happened to everyone once or twice before. Everything seems to fall on the wrong day.”

“Yeah, exactly.” You sighed once more, rubbing your face with your hands. “I'm tired, Luci.”

“I know,” he caressed your face. “I know. But you need to eat something, and make sure to drink some water.”

“Mhm.” You nodded.

He sighed, gently pulling you in for a chaste kiss. His hands remained on your cheeks. “___, please don't be afraid to ask for help.”

“I… I know. And I should've. I'm sorry.” You averted eye contact.

“Why are you apologizing to me? You should be apologizing to yourself.”

“Sorry, me,” you said sarcastically.

“Be serious.” He kissed you once more. “Make sure you go to bed early tonight. Just this once, take something from Belphegor. Though don't be like him every day.”

“I know.” You kissed his jaw, right under his ear. “Maybe you're right.”

“You know I am.”

You paused. “Um, Luci?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Could you, um… stay with me tonight?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t ever leave you alone, should you need me.”

“Thank you.”

“No need.” He smiled.

You smiled back, though it was soft and tired.

He sat up. “Shall we get something for you to drink?”

“I can still make dinner if you want.” You said, changing the subject.

“No, if you feel unwell, you should rest.”

“I know, but… I just feel obligated to.”

“Hm. Well, at least let me help you.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

After dinner, Lucifer helped you do your homework, and also tried (keyword tried) to talk with his brothers about their smothering. He offered you medicine to help your sick feeling, and did everything he could to make you feel as comfortable as possible before joining you in bed.

“How are you feeling?” He asked you, laying on his side to face you.

“Better.” You replied.

“Good. I’m glad. Is there anything, anything else I can do for you tonight?”

“Uh, no. I think I’m okay. Thank you, Lucifer.” “You’re welcome. I can’t deny I like to see you depending on me for something.”

You smiled gingerly. “That’s cute.”

“Uh-huh.” He replied sarcastically.

“Just know, you can always rely on me. I promise if anything ever goes wrong, I’ll do whatever I can to make it better. I love you, ___.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.”

𓆩⚝𓆪 — thank you for reading!

𓆩⚝𓆪 — taglist (ask 2 be added): none

𓆩⚝𓆪 — obey me masterlist

[cozymerchant]

@coldblood-gardens Followed.

The melancholy tune coming from the Merchant's instrument is abruptly interrupted as the hand wielding its bow stiffly halts. Drawn from a self-induced trance, Krellen looks out into the darkness beyond the reach of his campfire, feeling a sudden chill in the air that strikes him as most unnatural.

"W-Who is there?" A shuddering breath sharply leaves him as he quickly scrambles onto his feet, dropping his instrument and defensively gripping its bow in both hands. He calls out a second time into the night, in a pleading whisper, "Art thou some spirit of blood, here to torment me? Please, return to thy grave, I cannot help thee..."