#please please please someone make this dress

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 3

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

The shadows unceremoniously dumped a whole stack of Sellyn Drake Novels on Azriel’s desk.

Azriel eyed the stack of novels dubiously, wondering how in the Mother's blessed name the Shadows had gotten their hands on these. Or why.

But they stayed silent, clearly waiting for him to outright demand an answer. *Why?* he asked with a long suffering sigh. *What's this about?*

No response.

Azriel reached for one of the books, pulling it off the top of the stack and flipping it over. And immediately he regretted that decision. The cover was…certainly something.

A shirtless man holding a rather skimpily dressed woman up against a wall. 

Azriel let out a long, long sigh.

*You need to read the books, Master,* the shadows told him seriously.

Azriel stared at his shadows, then at the books, then at his shadows. *You cannot possibly be serious.* What exactly was this supposed to give him? 

He flipped it over, reading the synopsis. 

When Lady Eleanor is forced into an unwanted marriage, she despairs—until the enigmatic Sir Tristan, a battle-scarred knight with a fearsome reputation, crashes into her life. Bound by a promise to protect her, Tristan whisks Eleanor away from her gilded prison, thrusting them into a wild escape across enemy lands.

Haunted by his past and wary of love, Tristan tries to keep Eleanor at arm's length. But as they face danger together, a fierce passion grows between them, tempting them to trust in a love that could heal even the deepest wounds.

What the fuck. 

*We are, Master.* The Shadows told him, sounding as earnest as they possibly could.

He opened the book. Titled The Dark Knight’s Desire, flicking through the pages. Was this…a first edition?

*It’s important!* The shadows insisted. *You know…to brush up on these flirting skills of yours.*

Azriel shot the shadows an unamused look. *I can flirt perfectly well,* he protested.

*You most certainly cannot.* The Shadows deadpanned. *It’s research! Read them for her!*

*Read them for…* Azriel started, his voice trailing off.

*You found...* he trailed off weakly. They had found a female for him?

The shadows swirled around him almost playfully. *Of course we did,* they said innocently. *We told you we would, didn’t we?*

They were working quickly. It had only been weeks since he had agreed to let them find him a wife.

*You did,* Azriel said slowly, but his mind was working fast, so fast, trying to wrap around the idea that his Shadows were trying to help him find a wife…and more importantly, that they had found a female they thought he would find suitable.

*Where did you find her?* he asked, carefully.

*Here in Velaris!* the shadows answered brightly.

*Here?* Azriel asked, his surprise obvious. The shadows had found...a female...here in Velaris? Someone who was compatible with him? And they wanted him to read...what were these again? Sellyn Drake novels? So he would know how to best romance this female?

*Read the books, Master,* the shadows said with a sigh. So he did.

And that was how Azriel spent his next few hours. Reading a book, and blushing like some sort of adolescent boy when certain…particularly intimate scenes came around. The Shadows cackled beside him the entire time.

How the fuck did Nesta do this with a straight face?!?

Azriel had no idea, but by the Mother, he was never going to ask her. Ever. He would just die of embarrassment.

Though he needed to admit...he actually quite liked it.

The novels, that is. The…intimate scenes. Azriel liked them. A lot. Not even the...smut, like Nesta called it...no, he liked the love story. He liked the two people that came together and would do everything for each other...the falling in love part. He liked that.

But the Shadows were probably never going to let him live this down. Azriel did find comfort in a single thought, though. Whoever this possible future partner was, she was never going to know about this. There was no way in hell he would let her find out that he read smutty books to brush up his flirting skills.

But even that did not stop the nagging thought in Azriel's head, one that made him hesitate, and doubt himself, and doubt the Shadows' judgment. "What if..." he said softly, hesitantly. "What if she just...doesn't like me?"

He knew he had some...rough edges, to put it kindly. And he had his own...troubles. His own...insecurities. Some of the things he kept to himself, so many of his...issues. The shadows knew of them all, of course…There were many nights they stayed up with him, soothing him when the ghosts in his mind became a little too loud, a little too real.

What if that scared her? He didn't want her to be scared. He didn't want to scare her.

*She'll like you, Master.* The Shadows assured him, wrapping themselves around him comfortingly and soothingly. *She’ll love you.*

He exhaled. *Can you read minds now?*

*Only yours,* the Shadows assured him. *But as long as you don't cheat on her with her sister, you'll be doing a better job than her ex-partners!*

What. 

"Are you seriously reading a Sellyn Drake novel?" Only 5 centuries of training kept him from flinching as he looked up to find Cassian in his doorway.

"Nesta said it was good," he shot back flatly, not hiding the book, because that would just give Cassian even more reason to tease him. 

"You...actually listen to Nesta's...book recommendations?" Cassian stared at him, as if he had grown a third head.

"She is intelligent, and she reads more than either of us," Azriel shot back, sharply. "So yes, if she says it's good, I'll try it."

Cassian gave a slight shake of his head, not believing what he was hearing. "You are…actually reading a Sellyn Drake novel?" He repeated as if he couldn't quite believe that Azriel was actually doing that.

"Yes," Azriel said, his words clipped. "You have a problem with that?"

Cassian just stared at him for a long moment before letting out a quiet laugh. "No, I just never thought I would actually see the day that you read a Sellyn Drake novel."

"Well, I like it," Azriel said evenly. "It’s very are well written."

"And smutty," Cassian said with a grin.

Azriel rolled his eyes. "It’s are more than just...smut, Cassian, It actually has a story, and good characters."

"Characters who can barely keep their hands off each other long enough to solve the mystery, you mean," Cassian drawled, but Azriel ignored him, flipping a page. 

."Have you ever actually read a Sellyn Drake novel, Cassian?" Azriel asked, shooting him a look. "Or do you simply judge by the covers?"

Cassian just grinned, clearly enjoying this conversation and how defensive Azriel had become. "The covers are pretty damn attractive though."

Azriel rolled his eyes at that comment, but didn't respond. Just looked back down at the book, completely ignoring his brother.

"Are you coming to dinner tonight?" Cassian asked him instead. 

"No," he answered flatly. He did really want to know how the book ended.

*We found a house! We can show it to you!* the shadows hissed at that moment. Huh.

"There is something that needs my attention," Azriel said simply.

Cassian gave him a searching look, a frown etched into his face, but Azriel simple met his gaze. 

"Az," Cassian said quietly. "Come on."

"I have something I need to do, Cassian." Azriel's voice was still flat, but more firm, a clear sign that he did not want any arguments.

"Az," Cassian said again, and this time, there was a small thread of pleading in his voice. "Just… come have dinner with us. Please. It'll be good for you."

Good? Good to sit at Rhys' table and be told to "behave"? Azriel would rather eat crushed glass than do that. Which was the reasons why he skipped out of them as often as he possible could.

He knew, he knew that Cassian was just looking out for him, but that didn't mean that he felt like he was obligated to go.

"I have something I need to do," he repeated, his voice even.

Cassian sighed. "You are so goddamn stubborn," he muttered, but he let the subject drop, clearly knowing that Azriel was not going to listen.

That evening, instead of sitting through that dinner, Azriel let the shadows swirl around him in excitement, tugging on his jacket, practically dragging him forward.

*It's a lovely house, Master!* they said as they wrapped him in their embrace.

He blinked twice as he rematerialised in front of a lake. Somehow not quite what he had expected. But then…then he saw the house.

Grey stone and wood and the biggest windows he had ever seen that promised an breathtaking view over the lake… and nobody around as far as he could see. He stared at the house, a brow raised. It was nice…very nice. A little too nice. Exactly too his taste.

Azriel turned towards the shadows as he raised another brow. *And how exactly did you…* he started with a huff. *You know what, nevermind.*

He could already hear the shadows saying that they asked for a favor in exchange. Or maybe they stole it.

The house was still nice though, perfect really. He just…didn't want to know what they had done to get it.

Azriel glanced towards the building again. He could almost picture himself in the space, walking around, just….simply existing. It was peaceful and quiet…and he would not be…disturbed or bothered.

He could see himself reading in front of the fireplace, looking out into the night sky through the large windows. 

Azriel walked towards the building, his fingers brushing over the wall. He could feel it already….he could already feel his muscles loosening, his shoulders lowering from their stiff position.

Home, he thought as stepped into the space, the shadows following after him as his lips tugged upwards.

Yes, he could already see himself calling it that. Home. He liked the ring of it. 

*You're welcome, Master,* the shadows said as they swirled around him, nuzzling him affectionately. They were happy for him, so very happy for him.

The living room was spacious, filled with  overstuffed couches and armchairs made for wings… the view indeed was spectacular. And one long uninterrupted wall was lined with tall, massive bookshelves.

It was perfect.

*Does she like books?* he couldn't help but ask.

*Yes, Master! She loves books!* The Shadows assured him in an excited chorus.

She liked to read. That was the first little tidbit of information he learned about her.

*Will you tell me something else about her?* he asked them softly, as he kept exploring the house.

*What do you want to know?* the shadows asked.

*Did her ex-partner really cheat on her with her sister?* he wondered aloud.

*Yes. They are engaged to be married now,* the shadows answered. *He's an asshole,* they muttered darkly.

Azriel couldn't help but give a nod in agreement. An ass was too kind. Whoever he was, he was more than that. Azriel hated him, whoever he was.

*Anything else?* he asked the shadows, curious, so damn curious, to know more about the female.

*She has a cat. His name is Hector. He may be the ugliest cat in existence,* the shadows said primly, *but she adores him.*

Not what he expected, but it was...sweet. It was kind. She had a pet cat. His lips tugged upwards into an involuntary smile.

*And...?* he trailed off, waiting for a response. He was greedy, so damn greedy for more, so greedy to get to know the female more. His curiosity about her had grown to a fever pitch, it seemed.

The Shadows hummed thoughtfully. *She is very, very kind, Master,* they finally said softly.

Those words caused Azriel's smile to go soft, so damn soft. His heart fluttered at the Shadows' words. She was kind. She was kind and she had a cat that she adored. Her ex was an ass who cheated on her. She read, liked books, which meant she was intelligent, and…

Was he getting excited about someone he had never even met?

*When...when can I meet her?* he asked softly.

*Soon,* the shadows promised. *She doesn't leave the house that often...*

Azriel's brows drew together at that. *Why not?* he asked quietly, not sure if he really wanted the answer to that question.

The Shadows hesitated for a moment before responding. *People...people aren't very nice to her,* they admitted slowly.

Azriel blinked, confused. People...weren't nice to her...? But…why? What was there not to be nice about? From what he had gleaned, she was kind, had a cat, was smart, and liked books. What was wrong with any of that? It didn't make any sense.

*Why?* he demanded shaprly.*Because people are idiots as usual,* the shadows snapped right back. *People aren't nice to you either.*

Azriel gave a small wince at that, the shadows words hitting him like a bucket of ice cold water. But they were right, people weren't all the nicest to him, either.

Still...he didn't like the idea of her being treated poorly. He wanted...Gods, the want was so strong, all of a sudden. The want to…to protect her. To guard her, and protect her. To keep her safe. To make sure she was alright.

*Tell me when she leaves her house,* he demanded.

For a moment he could swear the shadows were nearly frozen in place.

*Change of Plans. Put on a different shirt,* the shadows said quickly. Azriel just stared at them.

*A different shirt?* he asked. He didn't even have any clothing here! That was back at the House of Wind. But the shadows were clearly not taking no for an answer.

He batted away a tendril as it started to unbuckle his fighting leathers and did it himself, only for them to shove him into a shirt that was so dark green it was nearly black and then start fussing with his hair.

Azriel barely had time to even process what was happening before the shadows were pushing him towards the door, still trying to fix and smooth his hair and clothes as they moved forward.

*What is the change of plan?* he asked them

*You are getting to see her right now,* the shadows said with a hint of glee to their voice. *Her sister and some friends are taking her to a bar.*

*The same sister that cheated on her with her ex-partner?* he demanded.

*Yes,* the shadows agreed in a hiss. 

Great. So he was going to have to stop a fight from happening, all while trying to meet the female he apparently was connected to? That was a...recipe for disaster right there..

*She'll be at the Crystal Drop* the shadows informed him, and his heart gave a strange little clench at those words. He was...he was actually going to get to meet her. Tonight.

The feeling of excitement was back, rushing through him like a wildfire. But there was also a hint of trepidation, a hint of nervousness. What if he screwed it all up? What if he messed things up? His stomach was suddenly full of butterflies.

Azriel didn't have time to dwell on those thoughts, though, as the shadows gave him a little nudge forward again, all but forcing him to start moving towards the tavern.

He could see it in the distance, the sign proclaiming it as “Crystal Drop”. It...it was right there. She was there... 

Taking a deep breath, he headed towards the bar, his heart pounding in his chest with every step that he took closer to the entrance. Gods, his hands were shaking. 

He was nervous. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was

He entered the tavern, and his eyes automatically went to the crowd, searching for...something.

The shadows let him towards a place in a corner where he could view the whole bar and he ordered a single fireale, because he was not getting drunk. He wanted his wits about him when he met her. 

But right now…right now, Azriel settled in to watch.

He watched the crowd, his eyes roving around, searching the whole tavern once again. He just wanted to know where the group was. He wanted to know where...she was.

*Do you see her, Master?* the shadows asked him, nearly teasingly.

*I have absolutely no clue how she looks, so how should I?* he gave back in a growl. The door opened and he watched as a group of females poured in...and then right there at the edges of that group...

His breath caught in his throat as his eyes fell on her, and...oh.

Between one blink and the next everything changed. A golden bond unfurled in his chest, connecting him to her.

Her.

He knew it.

She was his mate.

Mine. He whispered in his head, barely more than a thought. He knew it with every fiber of his being, every part of his heart.

He took her in hungrily. 

She was so beautiful. So, so beautiful. Azriel had to physically restrain himself from going over to her right then and there. 

He could hardly breathe. He couldn't form a coherent thought. His whole world had suddenly narrowed to the sight in front of her. His mate.

*Master?* There was alarm in the shadows voices as his breathing became near erratic.

*She's...You found my mate,* he said weakly.

The shadows hummed in confirmation and his eyes were glued to her still, drinking her in. She had long brown hair with soft curls, falling over back, bangs framing a rounded face with high cheekbones and plump cheeks...full rosy lips too and adorable freckles dotting over her nose...

She was the most beautiful being he had ever seen.  She was simply...stunning. 

And mine, he thought to himself. She was his. She was his mate.

He didn't even look at the rest of the group. Just focused on the one...the one who was at the edge of the group, seemingly trying to vanish, to become invisible. 

Even from the distance, Azriel could see the tension in his mate’s form. He frowned slightly at that. He didn't like it, seeing her like that.

He...his instincts were starting to kick in, a soft, protective urge rising up in him. He wanted to go to her, to...to stand by her side and ease away whatever was bothering her. But he stayed rooted to the spot, just...just watching her. Just watching his mate, the sight of her soothing every single little part of him until he felt warm all over.

He let the group settle at a table a few feet away from him, forcing himself to look down on the bottle in front of him and not stare at his mate like a total creep.

If he strained his ears, he could hear the whole conversation. Apparently it was his mate’s sisters Hen Party, the kind of celebration that some High Fae Females had before they got married.

Nice. Why not bring along your sister, when you were engaged to the guy that cheated with you on said sister?

The fact that his mate even came along into this bar that evening was probably a sign of how fucking nice she was. And Gods...no wonder his mate was so anxious...this whole thing was just...a disaster waiting to happen.

He glanced towards the group again, his attention once again immediately falling on his mate. He could see it, the small twitch of her fingers, the tightening of her lips...the small little things, and he felt his heart wrench at the sight.

She didn't talk. She was just sitting there silently, while the other females had a raucous conversation, that she wasn't part of. It made him bristle.

He didn't understand why they were doing that, why she wasn't a part of the conversation. She was right there. But they weren't listening, they weren't noticing her...or maybe they were ignoring her on purpose.

He...he didn't like it. He didn’t like it at all.  

Just minutes later, Azriel realised that he should have wished that they kept ignoring her.

Because Azriel was quite certain that he was going to slit his mate's sister's throat with Truthteller if she said one more word. 

The blonde, her sister, stared at his mate and this time a sharp, nasty smile curled on her lips. "Oh, what's the matter, little sister? Mad that I nabbed the male you were going to marry?" she taunted with a malicious grin. "I guess he just liked me better."

Azriel was so shocked that he could just sit there, staring. 

The other females laughed as the blonde continued, her lips curled in a sneer. "You should be happy for me, really," she said, her voice sugary sweet. "After all, you could never keep him happy. You've always been useless, haven't you?"

The comments made Azriel see red. What the hell was wrong with this female? Who treated their own sister like this? 

He had half a mind to go over there and wring her neck. 

*Don’t,* his shadows hissed. *You’ll make it worse.*

*Make it worse?! It can’t fucking get worse!* he hissed back. 

He itched to go over to the group, to protect his mate from these cruel, cruel words. 

*Yes, it can,* the shadows snapped. *What do you want to do? Massacre her sister right in front of her?!* Azriel growled under his breath. 

*Normally you are much more bloodthirsty,* he complained to the shadows. 

*You are the fucking spymaster. Act like it,* the shadows snapped. *You want us to make her sister’s life a misery? We’ll do it. We’ll do it and it will never be traced back to you. Besides, she deserves worse than a quick death.*

He clenched his teeth. 

The other females were laughing, but his mate...wasn't. She wasn't saying a single word, wasn't defending herself, wasn't saying anything. Just...just sitting there and taking the horrible abuse with a neutral, blank expression on her face.

"Cat got your tongue?" her sister asked her with a roll of her eyes. "I mean, it's not like you're good at talking, are you?" she asked her with a cruel little laugh. "Too bad for you that males want females that are able to have a conversation, not awkward little things who can't even speak when spoken to."

Azriel's body tensed as he listened to the words, every muscle coiled tight. It took every ounce of his control not to stride over to the group of females and punch her sister straight in the face. The only thing he wanted to do in that moment was to protect his mate.

The comment clearly found it's target, Azriel could see his mate flinch at the words, her face crumbling momentarily before it smoothed over into a neutral expression again. Gods...it must've hurt so badly to hear her sister speak to her like that…

*We’ll ruin her fucking life,* he vowed to the shadows. 

*Agreed, Master.”

Her sister rolled her eyes another time. "Come on, let's go," she told the other females. "You have the bill, don't you, Skylar?"

The words made Azriel snap. So the sister hadn't intended to even pay for her drinks in the first place? It was…they had just used her, he realised suddenly. Used her for the first stop on their tavern tour, to pick up the drink tab…and that was all she was good for in their eyes…

It was...Azriel couldn't stand by and watch this anymore, it made him so angry. So fucking furious.

"Ye...yes," his mate stuttered.

She looked so small in that moment, her eyes averted, her shoulders slumped, her hands trembling. She looked...wounded, so hurt, and Azriel was...he was sick of seeing her just accept this verbal abuse without a word. 

They left. They should thank the cauldron that they left at that moment, because otherwise Azriel would have made Cassian at his worst look like a puppy.

He wanted to storm after them, to give every single person in the group a piece of his mind, but that could wait. The most important thing right now was his mate. She was still here, after all. Azriel took a deep breath, and slowly, almost hesitantly walked towards her.

He watched as she didn't move, and he finally decided to speak, his voice a low, soft murmur. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked, gesturing to the chair beside her.

Her head turned, and he felt his heart stop as her eyes met his for the first time. Up close, her eyes were...mesmerizing. A deep, sparkling blue, framed by long, lush eyelashes. He couldn't look away from her.

And she stared at him, her mouth slightly open, her eyes near comically wide.

He gave her a soft, slow smile. "Hi," he greeted her, his voice gentle. She blinked a few times, still staring at him, and he found it so cute, how shocked she was that he was talking to her. 

Her mouth opened but no words came out. She was staring at him like a poor bunny rabbit would at an apex predator , caught in his grasp.

For just a moment her scent went utterly haywire.

Caramel and Hazelnuts. So sugary sweet that he would have gladly rolled around in it. And she just stared at him, wide eyed, silent...until suddenly the scent changed to incadescent happiness.

"Oh." A small sound escaped her as she swallowed.

And he knew. He knew at that moment that the bond had just snapped for her.

[kooyabooya]

CALLA

m reader x chaeryeong // 7k words

“You’re gonna be late,” says Chaeryeong, carelessly kicking her feet up in the air off the kitchen counter. “I told you to set your alarm last night after we uh- yeah, then look what happens.” 

She’s not wrong here, honestly. You are going to be late. And it isn’t helping your case when the stolen dress shirt from your closet is being worn by her, staring shamelessly at you with an apple slice in her mouth as you’re cleaning the sink. 

But here you are making things worse, giving in to the sultry grin that Chaeryeong gives when your arms are wrapped around her waist, crumpling up the perfectly ironed piece of cloth when her hands snake up to the nape of your neck, and upwards. “Can’t you just like- call off today?” she asks, carding her fingers deep into the back of your head, massaging, “It’s always so boring here when you’re gone.” 

Your forehead bumps hers, and some of that bedroom hair starts to pool over her right collarbone, compensating for the increasing tilt of your head as the tips of your noses brush together as a small tease as you retreat with Chaeryeong leaning forward to chase that wanting kiss. 

“As much as I want to,” you’re telling her, swooping back in for a quick peck across her cheek. “I can’t. Besides, I called off that other time to stay here with you.” 

Chaeryeong pouts, eyes fixed on your face as she pulls the upper part of your shirt just underneath the collar, revealing. You take into account the scattered marks of cherry fading across her chest and neck, remnants from a list of preferences she loves you to indulge in: her lips, her breasts - especially when she’s bent over or pressed into the mattress with the end of your cock being the closer. 

“I know that look.” You dip your head down at the familiar sight, hands scooching her to the edge of the counter as you feel her ankles hook your backside loosely. “The guilt trip isn’t gonna work on me today honey, sorry.” 

Chaeryeong rolls her eyes at that, and blinks. She has this kind of tendency no matter what given situation it may be, for her to let the eyes lock onto something over your shoulder or let the mind just wander. It’s only for a few seconds and nothing more than that, but with the way that her fingers curl around your neck again, darting her eyes back towards you, signaling to something. 

“Not letting me go, are you?” You prompt. 

“Are you sure you can’t call off again?” Chaeryeong reels you in with the pull of her knees, smiling at the dry laugh leaving your lips. “Please? For me?” 

So you lower your guard, tip your head downwards to get those first tastes of her lips. She tastes like coffee, and you’re probably sure that there’s a little bit of ketchup stuck on the outer room of her bottom lip. 

You’ll be partial to the playfulness that Chaeryeong exerts, the seemingless gravity that makes everyday worth treading through. If you roll your eyes at her, she’ll do the same thing, because that’s the kind of person that Chaeyeyong is: someone who gets what she wants, even when the common denominator of all things is you. 

She’s an easy person to let by. Frankly, you’re quite the opposite. 

You like when she has a little bit of an attitude towards you, riling her up and pressing all the right buttons with all this teasing and the usual back and forth banter that ends up with a flying hand to a shoulder or face, but you love when she does that - consider it to be a hidden charm.

“Not today, princess,” you finally answer, a finger treating the corner of your lip as you quickly glance at Chaeryeong wetting her lips some more leaning again but you’re pulling back just a bit just to get the funny little shake she does with her arms when she’s being messed with. “As much as I love to, I’ve got some stuff to be done today.” 

“Like what?” Chaeryeong asks, using her hands to shake your waist in place, kind of like a little kid throwing a tantrum in the middle of the grocery store, her whining tone a further emphasis. “If you don’t go in, then-”

“My manager would be on my ass,” you answer for one. “Plus, our project would be pushed back a bit. Worst case scenario: I could get fired since this is the third time in the past two weeks where I had to call off.” 

“That won’t happen.” 

“You’re right, but I could lose my job if we keep this up. We would lose one of our primary sources of income. Bills won’t be paid, no groceries - imagine the house goes too, now that would be tragic.” 

Chaeryeong listens dutifully, but her grip is still somewhat tight on you. 

“Is that enough to sway you, my dear?” you ask, thumbs massaging the back of her (your) dress shirt that she’s practically swimming in all of it’s unbuttoned glory. And Chaeryeong here leans her head towards the bridge of her left collarbone, retreating a hand back firmly onto the counter. That same side also opened up a bit to where you could see more of her exposed chest right down the middle. Her thoughts are in order, and her right hand is sending the clear message. 

She’s not letting go. 

“Tempting,” is what she gives, her voice a bit off, not exactly defeated nor depressed, but firm. She’s pulling you in the more she leans back, flashing those pleading eyes with the hint of lust hidden beneath them. “I guess you can be on time for once.” 

Well, fuck it. What’s one more earful from your boss later today when you come in? 

Whether or not it’s your fault or Chaeryeong’s will be decided sometime later, but it doesn’t take any more of an ounce in your mind when her arms wrap around the broad shape of your back, feeling the heat of her cheeks grow with every passing second as you’re picking up on the familiar rhythms and movements from last night’s escapades. Through all the hot, slick mouths to the consuming presses of your faces against each other, you’re doubling down your efforts when you lay her across the marble as she tugs your hair gently. 

Chaeryeong gets a single leg wrapped around your waist as she shimmies herself down a bit to where the tent of your pants is, the slight raise of her hips hoping to be satisfied with an early form of friction to get a feel of the real thing following the next couple of minutes. You pull back with an audible smack off of her small, plump lips. “Figured you changed your mind?” She asks, and the lazy smirk she pulls is nothing short of playing calm and collected as you snake a hand beneath the dress shirt, feeling up the cold skin since the lack of layers is playing to her disadvantage. “That look in your eyes says ‘yes’ to me.” 

“You’re not really offering me much choice here,” you’re saying, thumb grazing the curve of her underboob. Chaeryeong never likes wearing clothes in the morning unless it's just her underwear. Today was certainly no exception. 

The more you sink your body onto Chaeryeong’s, the more you’re starting to become more familiar with the sloping curves and lines of her body that your fingers glide over - she’s tightening the noose that’s formed within her arms, slithering along with the additional pull of her ankle pressed into the posterior of your thigh. 

It’s the question she asks so innocently, even when her actions don’t really speak for her words: 

“I’m always offering you a choice here, babe.” You consider that to every avenue possible, even when you’re bent over the kitchen counter with your girlfriend under you, and she isn’t wrong in this case either. There’s always a choice for you to hide away from the rest of the world with her without having repercussions. There’s always a choice to follow when you’re making her cum over and over and over until the eventual trade off happens in emptying yourself, heaving and exhausted only for the cycle to repeat again not long after. “You just have to think critically here.” 

“Which I am,” you’re telling her, a stray finger sweeping the strand of hair stuck to the side of her cheek, meticulously tracing every fine detail along the line of her profile, studying and admiring the beauty right in front of your eyes, where the appearance is all natural and without the added effects of lighting and makeup. 

It isn’t any different, this gaze you’re bearing. Call it straight out of a romantic movie, the way that you wait at the bottom steps of Chaeryeong’s office building, waiting for her to get out at approximately five o’clock every day of the week and when she does get out, the glint in your eyes and pretty much everything around just seems to bright up instantly as she gracefully makes her way down like that typical Cinderella story, expect that both of her heels stay on throughout the whole time, but you’d love to put the heel back with it’s rightful owner if it came to that. A fairytale story imitated in real life. You would love to be stuck in that little world with her no matter where it takes you, exploring and sharing the new experiences because she’ll be there right at your side. 

But if it’s during the late nights or mornings like these, it usually entails a different story entirely. 

Chaeryeong knows what she’s doing at times when you’re up late writing reports or getting those late night reads. You know what she does to you in the mornings especially after a night out with her limbs bundled up all over you beneath the sheets - the eventual mixup culminated after you’ve rucked your fingers deep into her hair, her skin, until she’s a whimpering and whining mess in the dim lights, muscles having a mind and memory of their own in making her feel good. All of this was led from the subtitles advances, the taunts, the hushed whispers of what she would do to you or vice versa. 

The wavelength is well connected, you’re still looking deep past those whisky irises of hers, a shimmering sparkle lying beneath as she pulls a lazy smile at the corner of her lip. 

“Wanna know what I’m thinking about right now? You ask, pressing your head across the underside of Chaeryeong’s jaw and at the top of her neck. As if it were second nature or just practiced, she inhales deep, arches her back up and away from the counter, giving leeway for your arms as she grasps you close. Closer. As if she’ll melt right into your skin then and there. She’ll want more of you. The touches, the kisses, just anything of substance that makes her feel amazing. Your nose gets filled up with that sea breeze scent from her shampoo the other night, nuzzling at the tilt of her chin when you’re saying, “Forget about work, it’s just you, you, you. It’s all about you.” 

“That’s flattering,” Chaeryeong says, moving her head when your lips continue to canvas across the slender column of her neck, leaving her with these quick gasps as her body shivers beneath the dress shirt. “You’re like- so crazy about me. It’s a bit concerning, but when you’re equally insane as me-” 

“Chaery,” you say, and even with the low timbre your voice is presented with, it does something to her head, the way her eyes flutter at her own name. The sigh she lets out is heavenly. “You don’t have to tell me. I know.” 

And here you catch wind of Chaeryeong doubling back on the defensive, her face flushed as her eyes are fixated on your face again, the breathing suddenly getting irregular but only for just a second - her position is rapidly deteriorating when she averts her gaze away from yours, like she wasn’t the one who swiped your dress shirt for her to put on while you were in the shower, the way she sat so leisurely on the kitchen counter as you wrap up breakfast, and the fact that she got on top of you before you even did all that, fluttering her pussy lips across your growing cock in the hope that you’d give her a quickie. 

But here she is, splayed across beneath you. It didn’t matter whether it’d be on the couch, the floor, the bathroom floor, the mattress; anywhere you go, there’s a certain hierarchy to be followed. “God, you’re so effortless with it. You-” 

You’re shaking your head here, the air leaving your nostrils hitting right above her lips as you slide your right hand down her waist starts this little aftershock effect of shuddering when your fingertips start to dance along the lacy elastic of her panties, her legs moving with unease as she’s anticipating the inevitable creaming and jutting her hips for more. She hates the teasing to an extent, but knows that you’ll play into her game before she lets you have free reign. “Keep telling me what I want to hear, babe. It’s okay.” 

Chaeryeong however, when the right moment matters the most, doesn’t say anything. The only thing coming out of her mouth is another moan when you’ve got a handful of her ass on your palm, pressing your lips and nose deeper into her neck again. Your weight is pressing deeper to the lower half of her body as she manages to get her other leg wrapped around your waist as her lips capture yours, pulling and biting the slick parts to get more out of you. The desperation. She wants it. She needs it. You could agree with the craving aspect all by itself. 

“Not hearing anything from you,” you mutter as your lips slide across hers, dragging your hand in this perpendicular motion that catches her panties at the edge, moving it down as the cloth goes along with it. She’s still shifting about underneath, a bit erratic though it fits her so well. You don’t have to say an inkling of praise as to how good she looks when she doesn’t get what she wants. No point in telling because you’ll spread her legs apart and give exactly what she needs before she can even put in a proper request. 

“Bitch,” Chaeryeong hisses, the line of her spine jagged in a weird formation as she tilts her head back, muscles tensing as the hooks of your arms really do their work as intended. “Don’t- Don’t do this shit with me. I know what you’re doing.” 

Part of the dress shirt falls past her shoulder. Her chest opens up to you as your head goes a bit lower past her neck, letting the pale skin stretch below as the hand focusing on her panties reaches to her thighs. Almost on impulse, probably instinctually, her legs open up revealing the usual site of damage waiting to be bombarded on again, hips moving out of their own will as she keeps on fidgeting at your touch. 

Normally you’d be off to work around this time, or hit the front door in the main lobby, but not today. “Doing what, exactly?” you reiterate, fingers grazing her inner thigh as the panties eventually get discarded from her legs with all the moving that she keeps on doing, the bottom of your wrist hitting her aching lips on accident (calculated, actually), “Cause from the looks of it, I’m not doing anything wrong here.” You can’t really help yourself in these types of situations: the teasing, being playful with all of the nonchalance of talking. The first pressure point was the cursing, and that’s already done. What follows with that first barrier cracking in front of your eyes would be all of the swearing and the lovely pleads of her begging - giving it to her like she deserves, in the arched backs, the press of her calf on the small of your back, her toes curling, fingers digging into the back of your head, letting her vocal cords sing as you’re filling every single bit of her fantasy of the kind of unfathomable sex that kind of feels a bit unrealistic; though it’s real, all of it. Like you’re good at reading all of the signs and lines that the body gives without any additional help at all. “I’m just getting you ready. Exactly in the way that you want.” 

Boom. Bullseye. Chaeryeong knows all too well, and she’s yours. Her eyes roll back as the upper profile of her teeth catches her swollen bottom lip, because it’s a rinse and repeat of the countless times that you’ve fucked her over and over with your tongue, your lips, your cock. She’ll keep spilling out these praises and swears of you carrying her to bed, or dragging her at times, all of the good and bad things that she’ll late on forget when you’re burying her into the mattress or letting her ride you out in the open air. You’ll be her enemy, and she’ll be yours. But here’s the thing: it cuts both ways. 

She gets a nail or two into your nape, a bit too deep, another mark of dishonor. The growl rumbling in your throat finds its way into the upper profile of her chest, but the return of delight coming from Chaeryeong serves as the proper antithesis that cancels it out completely. “Look at you,” you drawl, “I can see the fucking glisten from up here.” 

Chaeryeong manages to get an elbow up for stability, leaning back as you find the grooves to grip into her waist, holding the bottom of her thighs with your hips as they finally rest at the edge of the counter. 

Your hand works behind the scenes as Chaeryeong keeps her lidded eyes up, just barely. “You-” Is a firm attempt for her to reply to your remark, but when the root of your palm presses down onto her heat, she moves up on reflex, wanting that roughness in the lines to momentarily sate the growing want with every small shift. Her voice hides well under her loud breaths, and all she mumbles off of her lips is a very timid, “need.” 

There’s a fair share of sights you’ll drink your eyes into for as long as you need. Oddly enough, the displeasure of making Chaeryeong wait, to whittle her down into nothing less than just impatience and desperation - it’s adorable, because this is payback for what she did to you the night before. 

You remain stoic, unfazed. Her eyes keep focusing and unfocusing as her chin goes low, looking up. 

“Gotta help me out here, love,” you adjust, swaying your head from side to side slowly as you ease up with another kiss or two, leaving nothing untouched with the soft presses until you figure enough is enough for the time being. “What is it that you need?” 

She inhales deeply. Collecting her thoughts. Her favorite kind of truth serum: the neediness. “Need you to feel me.” 

“Need me to fix you up,” you rephrase, allowing her a small victory when her arms pull you in again, the taste of your lips too addicting to ignore, holding her close at the waist that makes her stop abruptly. “Make you cum so hard that you’re aching for more.” 

The nods she makes are frantic, and you can see the lump in her throat roll downwards as she leans up for another quick kiss to your chin. 

“Please baby.” Chaeryeong’s drawing another sharp inhale into her chest when you pick her up off the counter, sitting her upright. Some of her hair catches your cheek, just by a few strands, but she takes this opportunity to recount and compose herself. “For me.” 

“You’re pretty,” you huff into her ear and she hums this nice tone against her throat when you’ve slid her right at the edge of the counter, easing up the tension in her body when you flip your fingertips at the growing warmth between her legs. She does the easy part all by herself when she slips out of the dress shirt even more, the bottom part of the cloth rumpling across the smooth surface behind her. “I’ll give you exactly what you need.” 

She’s nodding against your ear, you’re smiling deep into her hair. This is the best way to start the morning. 

When the two pads of your fingertips make that first dip into her cunt, she’s clutching onto you like her life depends on it. Like the shackles of every chain of common sense she had left finally severed. She hisses again, you realize how wet she’s really gotten, the ruts she continues on doing only makes that craving even more deserving to satisfy. 

The quick murmur of a ‘fuck’ doesn’t go unoticed when you’re calculating every move your finger makes as it inches further down the soaking trenches of her cunt. It’s all in the right amounts of pressure, the curls, inching deeper and deeper to elicit these beautiful hymns of pleasure infecting your ears. She’s spreading herself winder, mirroring the stretch of her pussy lips when you finally give her that fill that she’s been wanting all morning. You’ve got all three knuckles up inside her, each move makes her pussy gush around your fingers as you pick up the pace a bit. 

Chaeryeong isn’t one to just sit and let anyone do the work for her. She equally wants the effort just as much as you, rolling her hips into your hand as you’re dividing and conquering her body with another fast shower of kisses across her neck and chest. In the ‘ahh’s’ and ‘mmm’s’ and ‘mhm’s’ brings her closer to the edge that she oh so yearns for. Only you can pull it off and out of her in record time. 

Her fingers keep traversing into your hair, until you’ve got her in that lecherous spot to where her head shoots back in a momentary shock and buries her chin into the crater where your collarbone is as you can picture the crinkle in her eyebrows. She coos when she feels the ends of your teeth nibble over her neck, adding onto the catalog of bruises from the night prior and where the concealer will have to work a little bit harder when she goes out later in the week. 

And you curl your fingers right before the opening, and the thumb on her clit throws itself into the mix. A pinch happens somewhere here too. You’re closing in on the staggered breathing that steadies itself as the wetness starts to seep into your hand. She knows she’s close, and you know her better than anyone when she finally reaches the first layer of her orgasm, holding her at the rim of her ass as the bottoms of her thighs slide across the counter. 

“Shh, I’ve got you,” you’re whispering amidst the sucking gasps of her rapture. Her head faces up towards the ceiling, her eyes roll back before they’re fading behind her eyelids. “Some wiggle room as you’re cumming. Thank me later.” 

Chaeryeong keeps her lower half moving as she manages to pull your head back so that you can make eye contact with her. Those fucking eyes. The mocha shade of them focusing and unfocusing as her jaw slackens, the shade in her cheeks flushed as you’re grinning of her sought-after reward. You’re pretty sure that she’s mouthing a ‘thank you’, but the whines fill in as the harmonious sound to which you nod at how proud you are of your own handiwork. 

She’s riding herself without a single care in the world, chest heaving so high and low deep as the heat’s already spread out to every part in her body. 

When you do eventually draw your fingers back from her pussy, there’s a slight coat covering them as you take the time to indulge with your tongue all over them, making her watch as you’re wiping the mess off of your lips. You’re evil, but not that evil. You give her the good grace of making Chaeryeong taste herself, lips and tongue quick to pick up on the spots where you didn’t treat on purpose, watching as she sucks and licks her own slick off that brings a familiar image to foreshadow. The mess. The sloppiness of her. She’s perfect. 

You stare for a little too long as she comes down from that deserved high. Her tongue wetting her lips from the aftertaste. She leans back a bit, watches you breathe out the exhaustion as a twinkle shines in her eyes - another spark - gets both hands on the rim of the counter and lets herself down. She’s a few inches shorter than you. Her forehead right at the end of your chin, and here she looks up. It’s like this optical illusion, how she starts to shrink right in front of your eyes. 

She sinks down slowly, dropping to her knees, hands at the front of your pants, pulling them. 

You can’t let her have a head start, so you don’t even think twice about what she wants next.

It all comes in a black flash. A spring forward in time. She’s on her knees with a finger wrapped around the base of your cock, tongue sweeping the underside as she works her way up the shaft, the heat and slickness of her mouth leaving a trail of her until she’s at the end of it. 

“Chaery,” you hiss, eyes fixated at the sight of her pouty lips lathering up your cock in her spit, watching as she gently bobs her way down the line, slurping and hollowing her cheeks to her heart’s content. “Fuck- fucking hell. God-” 

A pull back with the graze of her teeth is one thing. The swirling tip of her tongue over the head of your cock is another. Then there’s the effortless dive all the way down at the base. She’s unbridled to do whatever she wants to you, and you would be okay with that. The look up with those doe eyes of hers - and the fucking cross-eyed expression with them does something to your neurons. 

She puts most of her hair behind her head while you rest your hand on top, burying your fingers in them. Chaeryeong hums as you test the first thrust of your hips slowly into the choking heat of your mouth. Bit by bit, she takes every inch of you with ease. 

You’ll get your face between her legs, it’s already happened. 

You’ll get your cock deep into the hollow of her throat, it’s happening right now. 

Fuck, and when you pull out to smack the head of your cock across her lips before you see her eyes go wide to that repeated deepthroat motion, she’ll take it well and you’re sure of it. 

Doesn’t change the impending outcome whatsoever: you’re still going to be late. 

You’re surprised at how the dress shirt has managed to stay on Chaeryeong’s body this entire time, hitting the back of her mouth with obscene precision. She’s giving you this sort of payback when her hands hook to the back of your thighs; they go a bit higher to rest on your ass as she relaxes her throat, resting your cock into the cyclonic heat in every passing stroke. 

She gags a bit for a second, the puff of her cheeks letting you know that the choke is a positive implication, and you gasp in surprise. 

Her heavenly locks are even messier than they were before, when you’re pumping yourself into her mouth, holding her still to prolong the amazing feeling she has over your cock. The sounds she makes happened the morning before when your body decided to have a mind of its own, in response of the cold air to which Chaeryeong accepted the gift wholeheartedly: fucking her mouth until you’ve got your cum spilling out the corners of her mouth and a few spurts painting her cheek soon after - it isn’t any different here.

You could cum right here, right now, and she’d be happy with the result. 

But when her eyes drop low, dead in the water, hazy, the puff up of your chest prepares you for the worst. 

She hums. Her mouth slips across your hard length slowly, meticulously. The little notion of control takes over when she drags her lips across the sensitive surface with so much care - so much detail, the grip you have in her hair only makes it much more excruciatingly difficult to keep yourself upright, in the buckling of your knees every few other seconds. You’re not simple to take on, and where she’s gargling all over the length, she diverts some of her attention to your balls soon after, nails lighty dragging across the ridges as you nudge down deeper into the opening inside. 

“Umgph,” she finally says when nothing is said except for the leaking gags coming out of her throat, and you’re starting to feel a tad bit dizzier. 

You drag yourself out, pull a bit too hard where the roots of her hair are tangled along with your fingers, and she looks up, a third of your cock sticks out to the inside of her cheek, then her eyes roll back. The hollow she does with her cheeks, the suction- the fucking suction. 

“Jesus girl,” you taunt, almost defensively. “Fuck. Love it when you do that.” 

“Mmph,” she hums, nodding with your tip captured between her lips still. She does a few additional bobs as the clutch of your fingers starts to loosen over her head, slipping, retreats a second later. “Was that enough to convince you to stay?”

The way that you bend yourself down, reach to her level. Her fingers slide over your wrists while your hands get her face in between them, pulling the old bag of tricks and kisses - pulling and biting and sucking off the slop, melding every little part of her towards you. Everything starts to fade out from the outside, as if you’re sinking down deeper into the never ending abyss that’s Chaeryeong. 

Except, she’s the one who pulls away first - not you. The irregular breathing returns after a short stint away, hot and haphazardly, rising up from the floor with a hand quickly wrapped around your cock still. “Maybe you need a little bit more persuading.” 

“I’m all ears,” you tell her, willingly. 

“Really? Okay then. Couch.” 

Your cock is tethered between her fingers, following along to the hypnotic fashion in the movement of her hips. She’s gliding along the hardwood floors on the balls of her feet, humming along shamelessly until you find yourself in a usual territory, just a few steps away from the first battleground. Chaeryeong doesn’t let up with the racking of your brain when she twirls around and captures your lips with hers, her hand languidly sliding along your slick cock that shuffles an influx of these scattered breaths to where she’s smiling into your parted lips. Though, she pushes you onto the cushions of the couch, straddling you as she cradles the back of your head so gently, to where you’re looking up and the only things you can feel are the stray strands in her hair brushing along the side of your face as your lips are under attack again. 

But your hands have their own ideas in mind, acting as an additional weight to her hips, your cock twitching when the outer rim of her puffy pussy lips, making your lips and hers buck on impulse from the contact, chuckling at the twitch. 

“I think teasing you would be better,” she suggests, finally letting herself rest on top of you, the wetness staining the underside of your length, gasping a bit when she realizes that the growth of your cock actually feels a bit thicker than usual. “Wow babe, oh- god. Did you-” 

“Could say that I’m properly convinced,” you sigh, dropping your head back when she slides up a tad bit- jesus. 

And Chaeryeong nods at the resolve, leaning her head to the left as she manages to get a hand underneath your chin, hips moving dangerously slow on purpose. This can be an agenda of sorts, the usual wake-up routine that you would have no problem in following. Until one of you wants to tear the page to start something anew; you could have the ending of digging your cock deep into her until she’s shaking her head for more. 

“Had I done enough already?” she then asks, the drag of her lips past the corner of your mouth, her breath enchanting enough for you to pass out figuratively. 

“I’m passive to changing my mind. But seriously, Chaery, your fucking hips-” 

She hums and nods, grinding down your cock a bit more harshly. Anything that she does would be enough to make you snap. 

“Don’t think too hard about this.” Chaeryeong grins, her soft chuckle in the open space between your lips and hers. It’s a brief moment of embrace - the intimacy - something that happens effortlessly without even the move of a muscle or nerve. You kiss her again, trying to do everything in your power to not give a shrivel of attention in the way that she grinds her pussy over your cock. A tongue gets swept across your lower lip, followed by another sharp inhale; she’s happily skating along your length, makes your eyes drop low, and your head feels dizzy. Only when she pulls away, brushes the tip of her nose against yours, biting her lip down and breathing, “I’m gonna put it in now, okay?” 

Your only logical choice here is to look up, watch Chaeryeong’s face as she licks her fingers, runs them through her folds a few times, grabbing your cock carefully and runs your tip across the first waves of heat, sponging up the soakage as she lets herself down; she slides down to a third - right above the halfway point, and sinks soon after. 

Her cunt molds around your cock perfectly. At the mere fit of her, your lower half twitches in response. She rests for a second as her eyelids drop from above, frozen. You’re positive that you can’t move either; neither of you want to, because everything pretty much made sense in the moment alone, making you forget about everything else. 

“Slow,” you’re telling her, thumbs resting at the creases of her hip. “Slow.”  The anchor of your hands to her impossibly small waist guides her in the same motion she was doing a few minutes ago, gyrating her pussy down to the base of your cock. And then she rises, drops her ass onto your balls and the rebound transfers over to your thighs. “Yeah, right there. Good girl.” 

Chaeryeong does the same motion again, and slams her ass down. She repeats it, and the second time you’re thrusting up a bit to reduce the impact, but the weight on top of you becomes a bit unbearable, and you’re filling the crater of the cushion once more. You’re going to be fucked, the same can be said for her too; it’s a competition as to who can reach their edge first, or at the very least, who can get so needy for their own release that all bets are thrown off the table and one of you will just fuck the other into oblivion. 

“Every fucking time,” she curses, her body almost levitating over your hips at this point. You’re biting down the groan ripping between your vocal cords, each one more aggressive than the last. That’s what she’s working towards - to break you both mentally and physically - bringing out that side of you that’s mere putty one second, make the complete one-eighty to flip her over and make her suffocate through the cushions. You can feel it in the audible slaps her legs sound against yours, the drag of her unbelievably tight pussy piloting the usual aches back to the forefront, unraveling the slack as you struggle to keep it altogether. “Ugh. Amazing.” 

“Chaeryeong,” you sputter out, and this in one of the few rare instances where you’re saying her name properly, and the sight above is always something to get lost into; her head falls forward, shielding the sly smirk and whimpering whines leaking out of her lips. She throws her head back when you’re yanking her back down onto your throbbing length - a test run, an assessment. The way that she fits all around you is second to none, the smoothness and intuition to double down serves as a dangerous addiction that you see yourself relapsing in no time flat. “Hold yourself down here, close to me. Bounce on my fucking cock - shit, just like that.” 

She nods, her upper half finding a hold as she lets the other do it’s thing, moaning mindlessly and all of the good things about how your cock fills her up so easily. The desperation, the hint of panic, that natural instinct of wanting to be fucked, drench your cock with her slick any chance she can get like right now. Her huffs are starting to pick up in pitch as your hands play second fiddle of driving yourself into her as deep as you can get it, and you start to feel your eyelids drooping while the sounds of her thighs start to fade out between your ears. Keeping it together here was never the option. And she holds herself down at the hilt, grinds a bit once you’ve bottomed her out, gyrating your embedded cock as the press of your fingers starts transforming into this claw-like grip. 

Innovative as she is, Chaeryeong moves her legs a bit, plants her feet onto the seat of the couch. Your hands find their way to the underside of her thighs, raising up the intensity with the same motion as before. 

“S’that feel good, baby?” She asks sweetly, innocently. “Your fucking cock feels so good. I could live like this if I wanted to. 

You’ve reduced yourself to nods. There’s nothing left to be said, this indescribable feeling.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, okay?” The assurance is cute, but with her pretty little body in the form that it is, the flushed face and heaving coming out of her chest almost undermines the appearance entirely. 

So you’re back to the drawing board. Square one. Chaeryeong is an endless bundle of lust when she squats down on your cock again, doing exactly as she said. She’s fucking you relentlessly as the entire frame of her body plays victim to the aftershocks of your cock and hips; the crash sending a ripple effect of her ass, her thighs, her tits, all shaking up in different paces of motion, and the feeling is the same result every time. 

Everything starts to stir within your body, nearing that eventual end that you and her have been working towards, breaking her body down in endless spires of nerves, right until the very second where she’s clenching around your cock, cumming on your waist. She’s holding herself down to you again, hips moving in this counter-clockwise motion, hoping to reduce the overbearing sensation when she’s peaking again, biting down her scream. It’s in the cinches of her face, the patchwork of scratches forming across your neck and shoulders, the signs of a pretty girl losing their mind over a good dick, wanting to have more like she depends on it. 

“Look at you, baby,” you appraise, combing a handful of her hair as you keep up the stable pace of upward thrusts into her cunt. You know how this story goes - how it’ll be from here on out, where Chaeryeong can’t even come up with the right words on the tip of her tongue, when she’s all fucked out where she can’t even think straight, lets you take the reins away from her. It’s a bit of a facade when she’s holding your neck by the arms, the kind of hug in a reunion after for being away for so long, palms pressing down on the small of her back as you get yourself in the prime position to really fuck her in the way that she knows and likes. The inside of her knees squeeze the outer rim of your legs, holding herself in palace as you get the right angle to the degree, fuck her through and through until she’s screaming and cumming the absolute mess out her. “I’ve got you. I’ve always got you. Just relax. Let me.” 

Chaeryeong sighs into your collarbone, resting her lips across the skin. You zero in on the imaginary line that you’ve created in your head, gliding into her tight hole. The sound of her slick getting louder and louder with every harsh thrust. There’s also a hint of care in the back of your mind: to not let her squirt over the cushions, since that’ll be another hassle to handle once all of this is over until the next round. 

You’re pulling a lazy grin at the corner of your mouth again, and she takes notice, an airy laugh following soon after. Chaeryeong knows that look all too well. She lives to see that look each and every time - to shake your goodwill down and morphing it into mere impulses of her infectious lust, the rawness of which you’ll completely forget what you were doing minutes prior as you’re only fixated on pounding her cunt to where she’ll beg for more, wail when she hasn’t had enough, just a full on fledged mess. Just when she’s got a few scraps of sense back into her head, she pulls her head sideways, and a siren’s call passes her lips, “do it, want to feel all of you.” 

Well, you’ll do just that. Chaeryeong’s body is one with yours, her hot breath flushing over your neck, peppering your cheek with kisses and huffing out these sorrowful gasps every stroke your cock does inside her, ripping apart every ounce of self control you have left to give. You’ll bask in the glorifying graces of her rapid cunt tearing your cock, the melting heat amidst the heaven that space between her thighs possesses - each passing movement more addictive as you’re pistoning your cock into her pussy - you’ll fuck her well, you’ll fuck her right. The clench she has on you is too strong, and it’s gotten so fucking simple for her to slide from the head of your cock to where your balls is at. She’ll ride you like there’s no tomorrow, and you would be fine with that. 

Harder. Deeper. She whispers into your ear, gasping out more with utter desperation, the voice wracked with pure pleasure, though still stable above the constant slaps your balls and thighs make against her ass; the begging hasn’t stopped too, and she really just wants one thing here from you. She can easily tell that you’re at the edge, the muscles along your cock and around your waist are contracting and relaxing in all the right areas. “Fuck your cum into me, baby. I want it. I want it bad. This pussy is yours. Yours. Own it like you mean it, I want it right in my fucking stomach.” 

‘Chae, fuck-” You bite down hard, drag your teeth against themselves. She’s fucking insane. Her pressure is too much on one point, actually on many points. Your mind and body are out of sync - everything all at once is too much to handle. You’ve got no control anymore. “-your pussy, feels wonderful.” 

“I know, I know,” she coos, managing to get a thumb across your bottom lip, fingers sliding across your cheek, barely keeping it together from the high ground. Her eyes go cross again, jaw slack when your cock drives itself deep into her sopping socket. “Can feel you throbbing. Fuck me. Fuck my pretty little pussy.” 

Your stomach collapses, and you manage to get a few more good thrusts in. “Chaer- god.” 

She slams her ass back down as you hold her there, cumming into her cunt. The first few pulses are lethal, and you’re pretty sure you’re seeing white in your head.

“Shh, there we go.” Chaeryeong sighs, hushing you with a palm over your mouth, muffling out the listless groans and curses that are trapped deep within your lexicon. “Can feel your cum- oh my god, it’s so much.” She’s still clamped well around your cock, squeezing you dry and the lazy follow up thrusts wrings out the last savoring pulses of cum where you can get it. The throbbing hotness finally taking rest within her slick. 

Though she doesn’t take herself off from you right away, and you’re not bothering the idea of pulling out, because she’s meant to stay where she’s at. Her hips continue to massage your cock inside of her as you’re doing your best to come down from your high. You and her mesh the heavy breathing, the exhaustion washing over you as the lustful aura starts to fade away. 

Chaeryeong places her head right next to yours, lightly scratching the back of your head as she lazily looks up to the low hum of your phone vibrating on the kitchen counter. 

“I think that’s your boss calling,” she tells you, placing a kiss to your temple, hips slowly grinding against yours to keep your focus on her, a foreshadow of what’s yet to come, “You should probably tell him that you’re coming in late.” 

[mattslolita]

꒰shy!matt & fuckgirl!reader꒱ ⟡headcanons !

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚

꒰ SFW! ꒱

fuckgirl!reader would've . . .

✦ met matt at a party she was hosting — well, more or less she would've bumped into the poor kid; she'd never seen him around before, but from taking one look at him? it didn't take too long to have him under her arm by the end of the night.

"never seen you around here before...came with friends?"

"my brothers dragged me here, m'not sure what i'm even doin-"

"are you- you're one of those triplets, yeah?"

"yeah, i'm matt-"

"think i'm gonna like you, matt...stop fiddlin' baby, m'not gonna bite you, 'kay? unless you're into that."

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ make it a point to drag matt to every party she's either hosting, or attending — he's nervously got his arm around her waist, whilst she's combing her freshly manicured nails through his brown locs while greeting her friends and whatnot.

"y/n, who's this?"

"this is matt, cute, ain't he?"

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ not make it clear, but basically matt is hers — dating? no. whatever they were, everyone knew to steer clear of the shy, blue eyed boy, for her claws were already nestled knee deep into his heart.

"you here with someone? why don't you-"

"back the fuck up an' leave, yeah? he's with me."

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ secretly enjoy matt's constant need for physical affection — the subtle whine as he desperately tries to get her attention whether it was reaching out for her, or brushing his hand against her thigh.

"pretty girl..."

"whatcha want baby, huh? wan' me on your lap? use your words f'me."

"on my lap...please..."

"course, pretty boy, c'mere."

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ be ready to throw hands with whoever says one thing about matt's shy nature — their contrasting personalities is one of the reasons she gravitated towards him; the shy, quiet boy and the social butterfly of a girl — she wanted to preserve that much about him.

"kid doesn't even fuckin' talk half the time."

"y'know what, i'd rather him barely talk and have him say something intelligible- which is more than what i could say for you cause every time you open your mouth, it's fuckin' nonsense. fuck outta here."

"y'think i'm intelligent?"

"what kinda question is that, huh? course i think you're smart, pretty boy."

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ never admit it, but she loves it when matt does girlfriend like things for her — whether it was the casual arm resting on her hip or the shopping sprees, she loved every bit of it.

"aw, this dress is too cute! whatcha think baby?"

"put it on my card, pretty girl."

"what, no way, matt. i can pay for it myself!"

"b-but i just wan' do somethin' nice for you...can i buy it for you? please?"

✦ but it was the small things that really did it for her — she loved it when he grabbed her possessively, or when he studied with her after school. little picnics, cozy dinners, and cuddles warmed her heart the most. ( but you'd never catch her admitting to falling for him. hard. )

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ secretly steal matt's clothes if she's over his house — little by little, things like sweaters or shirts would make disappearances because she's busy taking them for herself.

"princess, have you seen my boston jersey?"

"tsk, not that i know of, baby. if i find it, i'll give it to you!"

( as the jersey sits tucked away at the top of her drawer. . . )

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ unknowingly have an affect on matt and his tendency to not speak up for himself — her unapologetic bluntness helped alot.

"i don' think she wans' me, she jus' wants to study-"

"she wants to fuck you, matt. an' there's no way that's happenin' on my watch."

"i'm serious, princess! she-"

"matt, shut the fuck up. you're not goin' to study with her, got it?"

"yes ma'am." ( oh ma'am drives her wild. )

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ do small acts of dominance if she felt like someone wanted to get at matt — she didn't care if they were around people; if she felt the need to start making out with him in a crowded room whilst people watched them, she's doing it.

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ unknowingly smile at small things matt would do, like if he started rambling about something that happened to him that — the way his brown curls fell messily across his forehead whilst his arms flailed around animatedly, and the way his blue eyes were slightly widened and his cheeks had a pink tinge to them due to his excitement. . .she wouldn't even realize she'd been admiring him the whole time, not even listening at one point.

"...hey, y'still there?"

"huh? what?"

"were you starin' at me? stop that..."

"aw, why should i, pretty boy? y'look so cute all excited an' shit. keep talkin', gorgeous."

꒰ NSFW! ꒱

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ take matt's shy nature to her advantage, and completely slut that boy out.

"p-please princess...n-need t'cum, please..."

"aw, am i ridin' you too good, can't even speak up when i ask you to?"

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ purposely mess with matt by cuddling up to other guys ( never actually fucking them ) because she loves the way matt pleases her when he shows her how much better he can make her feel then all the rest.

"oh go- fuck, so good, baby! ya such a good boy f'me, don't stop..."

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ love cowgirl with matt, always forcing him to look her in the eyes whilst she rides him.

"fuck, fillin' me up s'good, pretty boy. look at me baby, wan' see them pretty eyes..."

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ let matt suck on her breasts like the needy man he is — instead of asking to please her, he'd look up at her with sultry eyes and begin sucking on the soft mound of skin, silently asking to do more.

"whas' the matter, pretty boy, tell me what you need."

" please...jus' wan make you feel good..."

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ endlessly tease matt in any way — she would grind against his clothed erection, sucking on his neck in that sweet spot that makes him weak,

"i- fuck, n-need t'feel you, princess."

"gonna be good f'me, sweet boy?"

"y-yes, always..."

✦ and she would always tease his tip before fully taking him — kitten lick on the underside, hearing the needy whimpers leave his lips as she grins up at him, seeing his flushed and exasperated expression.

"i ju- wan' cum princess, please just touch me."

"patience pretty boy, such a pretty cock...gonna make you feel s'good, yeah?"

shy!matt who . . .

✦ blindfolds you whilst he eats you out — he's too timid to have you see him grind against the bed needily while he devours you like his last meal.

shy!matt who . . .

✦ whimpers upon the smallest touches you gift him with, leaving him extremely frustrated and needy for you.

shy!matt who . . .

✦ cries during sex because the pleasure is too overwhelming for him — the feeling of being inside of you, how intimate it all was, made him emotional.

shy!matt who . . .

✦ loves giving and receiving marks — he loves to mark you up on your inner thighs and your neck, and he loves receiving them everywhere on his body.

shy!matt who . . .

✦ is a giver — he loves your praise as he pleasures you with his tongue, much for his own enjoyment as much as it is yours.

( lilly's corner 💌 )

so so excited to introduce fuckgirl!reader & shy!matt !! they're gonna be another one of my favs, i hope you guys will like them !! muah.💌

taglist🥝 : @muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @luverboychris @cottoncandyswisherz @chanelles-world

@sturnprime @aelinslegend @chrissturniolossidehoe @sturniqloo @chaossturns

@fairyrcts @mbbsgf @sturnsxplr-25 @moonk1ss3d @oliviasturniolo21

@wh4re4chratt @cyberdre4ms @luvleyangeldust @pvssychicken @lovesturni0l0s

@delilahsturniolo @venusxsturnio @chrissystur @sweetangelgirl7 @wovenribbons

@chrispotatos @chrissystur @jetaimevous @55sturn @yn-ws

@u-didnt-see-this @caseybennett @lowkeyobsessedwthesturniolos @sparklyskies0

@sturnsxbitvh @watercolorskyy @bagsbyclair0 @lovingregulusblack @starkeyszn

@victoryouactuallydidthis @colorthecosmos444 @elizasturn @y3sterdaysproblem @mattsfavoritestar

@78yaz @raerae1230 @slvttie-zx

[baronessvonglitter]

Daddy Can Fix It

handyman!Joel Miller x fem!plus size!Reader

Word count: 5.4K

Summary: All the housewives in your neighborhood rave about the local handyman. And with very good reason.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Reader is plus-size, wears dress and lingerie, has hair and body hair, and manicure. Reader's age not mentioned so there is only as much or as little of an age gap as you'd like. TW - fat shaming, food shaming, infidelity (by reader, and it's technically warranted) Pet names (daddy for Joel; sugar, darlin', baby, sweetheart for reader). Housewife/trad-wife vibes. Totally a bored housewife fantasy. Mention of female masturbation. Breast/nipple play, oral (f & m receiving). Fingering. Body worship. Pussy pronouns. Unprotected piv (Joel is snipped, but still.. this is fiction). Light spanking. Rough sex. Creampie. Joel's kind of a big ol' slut for the lonely housewives but is also really useful around the house, so you're definitely getting a good deal 🛠️

Author's note: it's been a hot minute since I've written a one-shot for Joel but it was impossible to resist. It all started because of this pic:

so yeah, Pinterest strikes again. How could I not write a Joel fic based on this? I hope y'all enjoy 💖

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

"He can come clean my pipes anytime."

Raucous laughter erupts from the group of ladies huddled near the cupcakes at the latest book club meeting. You listen from the other side of the room where one of the older members is asking you to help her with her Kindle. "I never know how to keep up with all this fancy technology," Marion huffs, adjusting her bifocals.

You're trying to be patient with her, but the conversation across the room is far more intriguing. "It just needs to be charged. Your battery is low," you say three times before Marion can even hear you.

When you've managed to extricate yourself from her, you go up to the ladies and, with a friendly smile, join in. "I couldn't help overhearing."

Some of the women exchange glances, as if deciding to let you in on their convo or not. "Becky's just showing us that she got her kitchen cabinets redone," someone finally pipes up.

"That's not all she got," another starts to crack up.

You look at Becky's phone screen. The before and after shots of her cabinets are nothing short of miraculous. "That's great, Becky! I know you've been asking Gerald for a renovation for awhile," you tell her, hoping she'll be pleased you remember the plight she droned on about for weeks.

"It is great," she says, eyeing you with something like suspicion. "I have a very good handyman."

"He does everything," a nicer girl, Isabelle, chimes in.

"Boy does he," another mutters, hiding her smirk behind her cup of lemonade while the others giggle behind their hands.

Amirah adds, "He varnished my dining room table, power washed my driveway, helped organize my garage," she counts on her fingers. "He's good for little things around the house, and his prices are decent."

"It's like he's just giving it away," Becky says with a smirk and this gets the group laughing again.

"Maybe you can give me his information later," you say politely. "I have a laundry list of things that I need help with now that Wesley's working so much overtime."

The women eye one another, and it's Amirah, the leader of the group, who gives the definite nod. "Of course, sweetie. After the meeting."

"Great!" Smiling, you try to make your way through the group, saliva pooling in your mouth at the tower of red velvet cupcakes on the table spread. You reach for a couple more.

"You've already had three," Becky reminds you, casting a not-so-subtle glance at your body. Her voice sweet as honey but her words carry poison. You know you're not as thin or as glamorous as the other women in this room. You dress the same as them, wear your hair perfectly coiffed and your nails are always manicured, but just because you're not a size zero they deem you unworthy to truly be one of them.

You hold your head high with what little courage you have in the face of Becky's bitchiness, your sinful little cupcake in your hand. "I actually had three. And right now I'm about to make it five," you say sweetly, licking a swipe of cream cheese icing before putting two cupcakes on a china plate and going back to your seat.

That night, Wesley doesn't ask about your book club. He doesn't ask how your day was. He doesn't do much except pour himself a drink when he gets home and sit in front of the TV to watch the news.

You're dressed for bed, a modest robe over a red silk babydoll chemise, a purchase you'd made on a whim in the hopes that you could spice up your sex life with him which, truth be told, has never been more than lukewarm from the start.

"Do you think we should.. go to bed?" you suggest, a naughty tone to your whisper.

"It's early," he grunts, barely giving you a glance.

"I just thought we could spend some time together.." you brush your hand across his knee but he impatiently swipes it away.

"Please, darling, it's a weeknight," he looks at you as if you'd just suggested a threesome with him and the milk man. As he leaves the room he looks back at you, but the hope that rises in your chest is soon shattered when he shakes his head upon seeing your lingerie. "Red is for streetwalkers," he tells you before he goes into his study.

Daddy Can Fix It

You run your finger over the business card Amirah gave you, with all the handy man's information. The card shows his white company van with the logo emblazoned on the side: Joel Miller, Handyman At Your Service so it says in black lettering. There's a phone number and a website as well.

You dial the number, expecting to hear a secretary's voice, but you're greeted with a rich, baritone "Good mornin', thanks for callin' Daddy, what can I fix for ya today?"

Jesus, the voice alone is enough to get you flustered. And Daddy? You weren't expecting that. "Um, hi, I got your number through a friend and I'd like to see if you're available to come mow the lawn today." You peek out your curtains, seeing how the grass has grown taller than you'd like since the last time Wesley has cared enough to cut it.

"You got a lawn mower, sugar?"

"Yes, I do, um.. daddy.."

You hear him chuckle on the other end of the line. "You can call me Joel."

"Joel. Yes, I do. Is there anything else you'll need?" New to the housewife lifestyle, you're still unsure of how to make such appointments. Before you met and married Wesley, you just mowed the lawn yourself, but your husband refuses to hear of his good and proper wife performing a menial act.

"Got any bushes that need trimmin'?"

You aren't sure why that particular sentence makes you feel the blood rush to your face. "I typically keep up with it on my own, when I'm tending to my garden."

Joel gives a small chuckle and it warms your insides. "That ain't no problem. Today around eleven good for ya?"

"Eleven sounds perfect."

"Pricing'll be about fifty, but we can come to an agreement once the job is done."

"Wonderful. I look forward to seeing you." You give him your name and address, hanging up with a sense of accomplishment.

His van appears in your driveway just a minute before eleven. You're impressed with his timeliness. What you don't expect is the gorgeous stranger on your doorstep.

Joel Miller is tall, broad-shouldered, skin bronze from working out in the sun, and his dark brown hair is greying handsomely. If you had to guess his age you'd say fifties. He's in a grey tee shirt and work jeans. What stand out to you the most are his eyes: almost black in color, appraising you as you wait in the doorway, prim and proper housewife, lips parted, eyes wide.

He asks for you by name and you nod, chuckling slightly.

"If you can show me where the lawn mower is I'd be happy to get started," he offers, and the voice you recognize from the phone makes you melt.

You lead him outside to the garage and he takes out the mower, filling it up with some gasoline first. "Is there anything else you need?" you ask politely.

"No ma'am," he looks over his shoulder at you as he pushes the machine to the front yard. "Get inside and get outta this sun. I'll handle it from here," he smiles and it makes you want to giggle like a schoolgirl.

From inside you watch him through the window, deftly maneuvering the lawn mower over, trimming the grass to a neat, short length. It's not yet the hottest hour of the day, but you see him sweating, and when he stops a moment to remove his shirt, you suddenly feel your pulse in the deepest part of your cunt. You wonder what it would be like to lick up every drop of sweat off his chest.

Like a slow motion scene from a movie, you watch the motion of his arms, the rippling of his back as he guides the machine over the lawn. Biting your lip you take in the sight of him, the determination on his face redirecting your thoughts to how he would look above you: hot, sweaty, hard, plunging into your drenched pussy.

How long has it been since you've had a man? Wesley prefers his Saturday nights like clockwork. But you want more. Stupidly thinking marriage was the best way to be treated right and fucked properly, you realized it was not the title but the man, and the particular man you chose was lacking in all area which mattered.

You aren't even sure you love him anymore.

But right now, watching Joel is a treat, and fantasizing about him is a little secret you'll harbor for later in the day when you'll inevitably find yourself using the showerhead attachment.

He finishes the front and back yards, and through the blinds you peep him putting his shirt back on, running a hand through his wavy curls before putting the mower away and coming to your door.

You answer it before he knocks. "Thank you!" is the first thing that comes out of your mouth. "Please come in and we can settle payment."

He cleans the bottoms of his boots on the welcome mat before stepping inside your home and following you to the kitchen. "You have a very nice home, ma'am."

"You're too kind," you're modest about his compliment, but it's thrilling to have someone say something nice about the hard work you put into keeping house. "Would you care for some iced tea? I've just made it fresh."

"I won't say no to that," he chuckles lightly, and you're happy to fill a glass with some of the fresh-brewed tea over ice.

Joel leans back against the sink, pouty pink lips pressed to the glass as he tips it back, opening just enough to take a sweet sip. You watch his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows, and you wish you could lick a stripe up along his the length of his delicious-looking neck to collect all the sweat that's beaded there.

"Is there anythin' else you need help with today?" he asks, his question carrying a hint of something more.

You blank for a moment, getting lost in the depth of his obsidian eyes, still caught up in your little fantasy. "No.. no, I don't think so." Taking a look around your eyes dart to every corner, taking mental stock of the upstairs rooms as well. "No," you finalize with a smile.

"If you're sure.." he says in that same low tone.

You give him fifty dollars and chat a little while he finishes his drink.

"If there's nothin' else I'll get goin'. Feel free to call me again if you need somethin' done, or looked at. Ain't nothin' I can't fix," he winks at you on your doorstep and you feel a waterfall in your panties.

Isabelle calls later in the day. "So? You had Joel over today, right? How'd it go?"

Dinner is in the oven and there's about an hour before your husband gets home. Phone on speaker, you start peeling potatoes. "It was fine. He did a great job. I'm sure I'll use him again."

Over the line you hear Isabelle sigh. "Isn't his dick beautiful? I swear, just thinking about it gets me so wet!"

You nearly slice a finger off, shocked by her words. Even though you're alone in the house, you pick up the phone and take it off speaker. "What are you talking about?"

"I think it's at least eight inches, and the way it curves at the end," Isabelle sounds like she's moaning.

"Okay, I'm lost. I hired the handyman that you and the others referred. That's who came over today."

"Exactly, dear! Did he fuck you? You don't have to give details of course."

Your brain is put on pause as only silence fills your throat.

"Oh dear," Isabelle continues. "You didn't know?"

"Know what?"

She sighs, possibly settling herself on her chaise longue out by her pool she's so proud of. "Joel Miller is a handyman, yes. But we also pay him a little extra for other services."

"Oh." You sink onto the living room settee, the closest thing to you.

"Mm-hmm. Mind you, it's not an all-the-time thing. But we've all had him. It's just something fun. You get some help around the house with your honey-do list, and then a good fucking after. Or whatever pleases you."

"And you.. you've.. slept with him?"

"I wouldn't call it sleeping, honey, but yeah I've been with him. It's all for fun. Nobody really takes it seriously."

"And everyone else at the book club?"

"Pretty much. Do you really think any of our husbands could compare to that god of a man Joel Miller?"

No, no you doubt any man could hold up to the stud who'd just helped you with the lawn.

He's on your mind constantly, but as tightly as Wesley keeps his wallet to himself, you can't validate having Joel's help every day. You make the choice to wait until the following week.

And what a long wait it is. Jealously you wonder whose house he's going to. Jackie down the street? Bitchy Becky with her face like a rat, no tits and no ass?

You consider calling Isabelle to beg for the details (which she'll probably give you without a fuss anyway). But a sordid part of you wants to find out for yourself. You already know he's well-endowed. He's at least twice as big as Wesley, who wouldn't know what to do with a big cock if he was blessed with one overnight.

A week to the day since he made his last visit, Joel comes back to replace the batteries in your smoke alarms. It's a job you've done yourself, perching on a stepladder, but it'll be more fun to have Daddy fix it.

The phone call to schedule him was practically foreplay. That smooth-as-chocolate voice had your panties drenched. When he's finally here, inside your home, inside your needy little cunt.

Your eyes rove over his form as he uses your stepladder, only needing the first rung. It doesn't stop you from staying right there with him, holding it steady on the other side. You hear his little grunts as he gets to work, watch his thick, strong fingers handle the batteries with a delicacy you can imagine he uses in other things.

Licking your lips, you realize you're face-to-face with the faded blue denim crotch of his jeans, those Levis hugging him tight in all the right places.

"I'm 'bout done here," he says, putting the smoke detector back in its place. "Anythin' else you need help with, lil' darlin'?"

Your hand presses to the bulge in his jeans, and you're delighted when you feel him twitch in response. "As a matter of fact, I do need your help with something else.."

"That right?" he murmurs, pressing your hand against him, letting you feel him grow hard under his palm. "Been waitin' to see if you'd ask.."

He steps down, keeps his dark eyes on you. "Pretty lil' thing like yourself don't get enough attention, huh?" he whispers, brushing his thumb across your cheek.

Softly you sigh, unashamed at how needy you've been for a simple touch. "No.. but I'd like you to help with that."

"That's what I'm here for, darlin'," he smiles, his thumb tracing your soft plump lips. "What do you want me to do, baby?"

"Everything," you answer quickly. "I'm not.. really sure what the usual is.."

His smile is kind as his hand traces down your neck, leaving goosebumps to rise on your skin. "You want me to fuck ya, give ya somethin' nobody else is doin'.. that it?" He places your hand back on his bulge and you respond by rubbing him, your own cunt pulsing around nothing in excited expectation.

"Yes.. I need to get fucked," you agree emphatically, pulling him into your bedroom.

Now he's here, in your room, and you think you're dreaming. He's letting you take the lead, completely at your service. All the women in your book club were probably more open with their desires, knowing immediately what they wanted and how to get it. All the fantasies about Joel you've created and harbored in the deepest part of your heart are now as impalpable as gossamer.

"You tell me what you want, honey," he drawls in that molasses-rich voice of his. His hands gently trace your waist, smoothing down your dress as he moves towards your curvaceous hips. "God damn, I bet you look fuckin' gorgeous outta this dress. Wanna show me?"

Biting your lip, you nod, tugging off your apron and dropping it to the floor. Not gonna be a damn housewife while he's with me..

A tiny smirk on your face, you gently push Joel back onto your bed, and he rights himself with an equally mischievous smile as he watches you. He palms his hard cock through his jeans as you do a little striptease, tantalizing him as you slip your prim flower-print dress off your shoulders.

"There we go, baby," he growls as the dress falls down to your hips, your scarlet satin bra revealed, your breasts practically spilling over the cups, making Joel's mouth water. You turn around for his help in unzipping the bottom part of your dress, finally feeling free as it falls away, pooling at your feet.

Joel lets out a wolf whistle as he takes in the sight of you in your ruby undergarments, the same you'd tried to seduce your husband in. Now they're finally being put to good use. "Red's your color, gorgeous," he mutters, his hands on your hips, mapping out your generous curves and the soft rolls of your belly.

You've almost forgotten what it was like, this power to entrance a man and make him see you as the only woman in the world. Marriage to an uncaring and unfeeling idiot had left you cut off from your sexuality. Now you're reclaiming it.

Joel's hands travel back up to your waist, fingers deftly unclasping your bra. He unwraps you like you're the goddamn Christmas gift he's been begging for for months. His tongue wets his lips as your plump breasts are revealed. With one hand on your lower back, the other palms your tit with a rough hand. Your nipple rises to his touch and he dips down to swirl his tongue around it, gently coaxing it further with his teeth. Your head falls back as the sensation zings straight to your cunt. "Fuck, Joel.."

He smiles against the softness of your skin. "Sensitive here, huh? Bet these ain't been properly played with in awhile. Gonna change that right now." And with that he gives another hard suck, his dick already leaking when he hears your needy moan. He treats the other breast with the same attention. You take one of his hands and lead it to the drenched front side of your panties, but he stops you.

"Not yet, baby. Want you to see yourself before I fuckin' ruin ya."

You lay on your side on the bed as you watch Joel undress. It's a sight you won't soon forget: skin tan from working outdoors, with a smattering of chest hair that's also showing some grey, chiseled arms, and a happy trail that leads from his navel to the front of his boxers, which are tented. He wears a little smirk as he pulls them off and your reaction is priceless.

Joel is fucking hung.

You've taken big cocks before, but his is formed of pure fantasy, like a dildo from your favorite sex shop. Isabelle wasn't exaggerating about his size. And his cock is so beautiful you want to cry. Watching as he gives it a couple strokes, all eight thick uncut inches, the rosy pink tip glistens with precum, the veins and ridges prominent. Even the curve Isabelle mentioned is sexy, bound to hit all the right places inside you. His balls, rounded and heavy, move with his motions.

Thank God I did my yoga this week.

You beckon him to you, pulling the boxers away completely and dipping your head to taste him. Your tongue laves across the salty slit of his tip, and you relish the hitch of his breath. He's not here for you to please him, but it gets you wet wrapping your lips around his cock, suctioning your mouth and stroking upward from his base. When you start to massage his balls he stops you. "Don't wanna shoot too soon, baby," he says breathlessly.

He pulls you up off the bed and into a kiss, his hands playing along the edges of your panties as his tongue tastes yours. His cock, still wet from your mouth, nudges against your soft belly. "You deserve to feel good," he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his tongue tracing the outline. At last he pulls your panties down, a rumble in his throat when he sees the sweet glaze between your thighs, glistening in your triangle of hair.

"Sit on my lap, baby. With your back to me," he orders in a soft growl.

His flesh is warm beneath yours, and god it feels good just to be touched again, to feel desired by someone. You haven't known it in so long. He sits back against the headboard, moving the pillows on either side. His arm instinctively wraps around your waist as he leaves soft, feathery kisses across your shoulder.

"So soft," he murmurs. "C'mon, baby, look at yourself," he nods to the mirror in front of you.

When you catch your reflection you're exhilarated at the sight: you, naked, with Joel behind you, kissing your neck, fondling your tits, thumb brushing over them and lightly pinching them to hardened peaks. "Spread your legs for me, baby," he whispers, getting started by brushing his hand from your knee to your petal-soft inner thigh.

It's lascivious, watching all this unfurl before you in the mirror. You're spread open, on full display. Your pussy is gushing over with need, and you trace your folds with your fingers.

Behind you, Joel's cock twitches, and he rubs himself lightly against your back. "Lemme do that.." he whispers, gently pulling your hand away, bringing your fingers to his mouth and sucking your juice off them. "So sweet," he murmurs, and your belly is hot with lust.

His touch is soft and careful at first, exploring you and figuring out what you like, what you need. It feels like he's memorizing every inch of you. His thick fingers glide over your lips, circling, teasing you so you'll beg him for more.

"Joel," you whine, lifting yourself to him, trying to get his hand to position itself where you need it most. But he evades you, a dark chuckle emanating from deep in his throat. "You're payin' me to do a job and I wanna do it right. Not fair to rush me."

Your eyes close in frustration. "Joel, please.."

"Nuh-uh. Daddy."

"Fuck," you whimper. "Please, daddy."

"That's more like it." His touch finds your clit, throbbing and needy, and you nearly see stars at the feeling. He presses once again before sliding two fingers into your warm, welcoming cunt. "Christ, she's really suckin' me in there," he grunts, shifting behind you as his dick becomes nearly impossible to ignore.

"Yes," you moan at the sweet intrusion, the easy glide of his fingers in your drenched pussy. "Just like that."

"So fuckin' tight," he says through gritted teeth. And Jesus, his fingers are thick, the calloused thumb swiping over your clit, making you twitch and your hips arch up for more. "She's pulsin' around me," he mutters, his rich voice in your ear, lips brushing against your lobe. His fingers glide in, stretching you as you coat him.

"Ah, she's gettin' all creamy for me," he coos as he pulls them out a moment, licking off one finger and giving the other to you. You taste yourself, salty and sweet, humming in appreciation as you release his digit from your mouth with a pop.

He returns to his work, his hand pistoning against your folds, the squishy sounds of your soaked cunt beautifully obscene to your ears. Your voice trembles as you cry out, a sweet vibrato that resounds throughout the room as Joel's fingers curl in on your g-spot. He adds a bit more pressure to your clit as he tries to get you there. Moaning, he nuzzles his face into your neck.

It feels like you break open under his touch, hips arching up, swallowing his delving fingers deeper inside you as you spasm uncontrollably around him, a string of curses falling from your lips.

You barely have time to recover before he's on you again, moving in front of you as you lay against the pillows, like Venus in a Titian painting. His hands lift your thighs, softly kneading their thickness as he plants kisses on either side, trailing up to your cunt, your scent all around him.

"My husband never goes down on me," you whisper, heart racing as quick as a hummingbird's wings.

"Ain't he a waste of fuckin' space," Joel grunts, a wicked gleam in his eye as he dives in, flattening his tongue to lick a stripe upwards to your needy, throbbing clit. Your hands grab at his hair, pushing him forward as his groan is muffled by your sweet, saturated pussy.

"God.. damn!" you gasp at the delicious feeling of his tongue on you, lapping up every drop, tracing your lips and tickling your clit. He's relentless in his pursuit of making you come, switching up the tempo, adding a finger and then another, praising you when you cry out again. "Squeezin' so hard on me.. she's just about ready, ain't she?" Before he finally suctions his lips around your puffy clit and sucks, humming around it.

It's as if your soul leaves your body for a precious few moments, muttering monosyllables in sweet relief. You've never come so hard before, ever. And when you look up at Joel you wish you could worship him.

"Like the sweetest tea I ever drank," he says, licking his lips.

"Fuck me, Joel," you whine, still not fully come down from your climax.

"C'mere," he growls, putting you on all fours so you're facing the mirror again. You look at your reflection: hair mussed, eyes shining bright, skin glowing from your orgasm. Joel lines himself up behind you, smiling as you watch yourself. "Got every right to look at yourself, darlin'.. someone as fuckin' hot as you, with these hips, this ass?" He grabs one cheek and gives it a slap. You gasp, jolting forward, then wiggle your ass at him, wanting more.

"You a naughty lil' thing," Joel smirks, teasing your folds with his tip. "Wanna get this pretty lil' pussy ruined?"

"Yes, daddy," you moan, pushing back on him.

"Fuck me, I like the way you say that." He bites his lip as he continues teasing you. "Once I fuck you, you'll never let that limp dick husband of yours touch you ever again, I promise you that."

Your reply is cut off when you feel him nudge inside, your walls breached by his thick cock. "Oh god... yes!" you exclaim, clutching the bedsheets. "Fuck.. your cock is so huge.." You can feel the tip just kissing your cervix.

"Yeah, you like it? Like gettin' fucked by this big cock? Gettin' stretched out? Gonna leave a big ol' gapin' hole for your husband to come home to."

He bottoms out, grabbing your ass cheeks with both big hands, watching the smoothness of your skin as your cunt clenches onto him. "God damn what a pretty sight.. you oughta see this. Pussy's barely fittin' me as it is. Only tighter thing would be your little ass.." and he pulls out all the way to slam back in, glorying in the way you scream his name.

"There she goes, gotta get 'er used to me," he grunts, eyes on your swollen pussy lips wrapping his cock in a vise with each steady thrust. "Jesus, sweetheart. So tight I gotta try not to blow my load."

The sound of his name on your lips, the way your body reacts to him, is like gasoline on an already raging fire. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. "Say my name, baby. I wanna hear it." He quickens the pace, pressing deeper inside you.

"Daddy! Daddy!" you shout in time with each delicious snap of his hips. "My god, you're so fucking deep.." you moan.

"That's it, take all of me. You like the way I fill you?"

"Yes daddy!" Your fingers clutch the sheets as the bed rocks with your movements. "So full of you.."

He presses a hand to your abdomen. "Feel me there, baby? All up in your guts. No one else is ever gonna fill you the way I do. No one's ever gonna come close. This needy lil' cunt's gonna be cryin' for me every day until I come back and give her what she needs."

His dirty talk is getting you wetter, your juices running down between your thighs, making his cock all sloppy, the sound of it making you feral for more. "Fuck me, Joel.. fuck me fuck me fuckmefuckmefuckmefuckmefuckme.." you mumble, face down, ass up, slack jawed as you drool on the sheets.

He speeds up, hips slamming against yours, balls thwacking under you. "Yeah? Want me to fill ya up, blow all this fuckin' load inside ya? Got snipped years ago, baby, 's up to you."

"Fill me up, make me dirty and messy," you groan.

"You want daddy to give you everything he's got, baby?" he repeats. "You want me to fill you til you're all messy and drippin' with me?"

"Yes.. yes please," you're barely able to get out.

"Fuck," he growls, grabbing hold of your hips as he pounds into you ferociously. Once he has control he places one hand on your back, keeping you pressed down as he angles himself to hit that delicious little spot inside and he knows he's hit it when you cry out, cursing and shivering, clamping down on him like a damn vise right before he lets go, streaming jet after jet of his hot come inside you. There's so much it's already leaking out while he's still inside you.

The rest of the week you make a list of things for Joel to do next time: perhaps check out what's going on with the washing machine, or maybe he could regrout your bathroom, or help you rearrange your living room furniture right before he rearranges your guts again.

Even Wesley notices the bright and cheery mood you're in, and how attractive you've become since taking on some of the home improvements. That weekend he does you a huge favor, and sits back in his armchair as he waits for you to discover it.

"Wesley? What were you doing in the garage for so long? I heard a lot of noise," you tell him, arms crossed, a look of suspicion on your face.

He looks pleased with himself. "Well honey, you've been so agreeable these past few days that I thought I'd cross off some little projects on your to-do list."

"Like what?" you ask slowly.

He lists off everything you've had planned for Joel to do in the coming weeks. Small things, of course, but Wesley has done all of them, leaving you with nothing for daddy to fix.

"I thought you'd be happy," he says, his face cloudy now that you're unhappy again.

"Happy? Not quite." You leave a moment and return with a hammer, heading towards your husband.

He cowers, ducking as you completely pass him by and swing the hammer into the drywall of the living room wall, over and over again. When you've let your anger out and Wesley is rightfully afraid of your next move, you simply smile sweetly, holding the hammer pressed to your apron with your well-manicured hands. "Looks like I'll have to call the handyman after all!"

dividers by @thecutestgrotto 👑

tagging those who showed interest when this baby was still just a wip: @itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @604to647 @inept-the-magnificent @clawdeewritesfanfic @manuymesut @bitccchmood @everybodylovedcontractors

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

"I'm Taking That As A Yes, Princess"

PAIRINGS: Ghostface!FratPresident!James "Bucky" Barnes x Reader

WARNINGS: Getting alcohol spilt on you, fingering, a bit angsty? (if you squint), semi-bathroom sex, swering, unprotected sex (darlings, please wrap your man's pig in a blanket), p in v, mentions of cum, handjob, a slight hint of a blowjob and slight fluff? (If I have missed anything, please feel free to let me know 😊)

WORD COUNT: 2,922

*not proof-read*

ENJOY!

Walking into the house, you were immediately surrounded by sweaty, sticky bodies. You grimaced at the overwhelming feeling and tried to find a space where you could catch your breath. The kitchen was relatively empty, except for a couple making out on the counter. You decided to mind your own business, reaching into the fridge and navigating past cans and bottles of beer to grab a water bottle hidden at the back.

You twisted the cap off and took a long sip. Everyone was dressed up differently, which made sense—it was Halloween. Instead of babysitting your little cousins, you’d faked being sick to your parents, dressed up, and come to the Alpha Phi house. This wasn’t like you at all. The top student in your class, the teacher’s pet, the early-assignment submitter, the girl who became a TA in her junior year—you were the “good girl.”

So why were you here? Because you’d overheard some girls talking about the infamous Halloween party that the Alpha Phi guys threw every year. And you weren’t the type who usually went to parties. So why this one? Because you’d heard that Steve Rogers was going to show up, and you had a little crush on the star player of the varsity ice hockey team. You’d been trying to muster the courage to talk to him ever since you sat next to him in a lab in your first year. That was two years ago, and you’d been harbouring feelings for him ever since.

Your heart did a little flip every time he smiled at you when you passed him in the halls. Finishing your water, you threw the bottle in the recycling bin and tugged your tutu down to avoid a wedgie. The ballerina costume was a last-minute, twenty-dollar buy, but you were happy with it—the corseted top accentuated your chest, and though the sheer tights were a bit snug, it didn’t bother you too much.

You were making your way through the crowd and spotted a tuft of blond hair. Your heart flipped again. This was it, the perfect moment. You were going to ask Steve if he wanted to go out sometime. He was tipsy enough to say yes, and if he said no, he’d be too focused on his hangover tomorrow to remember your question. You took a deep breath and started toward him.

Then you saw them. You’d thought the rumours weren’t true, that they couldn’t be real. But the sight of Steve Rogers making out with Peggy Carter would be forever etched in your mind, because the pain in your heart was unbearable. You stood frozen, your heart thudding in your chest as you watched Steve's hands roam over Peggy’s body. You clenched your jaw and sniffled, rooted to the spot.

You only snapped out of it when someone spilled their drink on you. “Damn, sorry, gorgeous,” a guy dressed as Fred from Scooby-Doo winked at you drunkenly before chuckling and moving away. You shook your head, trying to clean the alcohol off your costume.

“Hey, buddy. I think you owe the girl a real apology,” another voice piped up. You looked up to see a towering figure dressed as Ghostface, holding Fred by the shoulder. “Now, say you’re sorry—like you really mean it, and none of that half-assed stuff because you’re shitfaced,” Ghostface ordered, crossing his arms. Fred straightened up, looked you in the eye, and apologized sincerely. Ghostface nodded approvingly and sent him away.

Before you realized it, Ghostface had moved closer to you. You turned to see him looking you over, his mask bobbing as if inspecting your costume. He clicked his tongue and put a hand on the small of your back. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

You both walked upstairs, where the sounds of the party gradually faded, and you were grateful for the quiet. You hesitated when he opened a door and gestured for you to go in.

For the first time that night, you spoke up. “Um, I’m sorry, but I don’t even know who you are.”

The chuckle that followed freaked you out a little, but then he reached up to remove the mask.

James. Freaking. Barnes.

You tried your best to mask your surprise, but you were sure he saw it, because the corners of his lips lifted into a smirk.

James “Bucky” Barnes—the captain of the varsity ice hockey team, a good student, a charmer, the president of Alpha Phi, and most importantly, the best friend of Steve Rogers.

You’ve met James a few times here and there. During some of the varsity games. And passed him in the dorms sometimes. He never caused you any trouble. He even offered to help you move-in in your second year when he clearly saw you struggle push your luggage up the stairs.

You were just acquaintances.

You swallowed and timidly walked into the pristine room, surprised by its immaculate condition. “I certainly didn’t expect a frat president to have such a clean room,” you muttered, hearing James laugh at your comment as he closed the door.

“Well, I don’t work well in a messy environment,” he shrugged and walked closer, his gaze trailing over your corset. You backed up slightly at the intensity of his approach, making him huff a laugh. “I don’t bite, princess,” he said, his fingers grazing the edge of your corset.

He gently guided you to the adjoining bathroom. “I’ll have to wash it out a bit. So, if you don’t mind getting your tutu a little damp, princess…,” he led, waiting for your response. You shook your head, signalling it was fine. He nodded toward the counter, and you hopped onto it.

He wetted a towel and began dabbing it on your clothes. “So, what’s a timid thing like you doing at a fraternity party?” he whispered, his focus on cleaning up the stain. You glanced at his concentrated face before looking away. “What? Can’t a girl come to a party?” you replied, defensively, for some reason.

James chuckled, “Oh, a girl can come to a party. But you, you’re not that type of girl, princess.” You raised an eyebrow at him, puzzled by his statement. “I mean, you never come to parties in general. So why the sudden appearance?” He sighed and caged you between his arms.

You tensed, starting to stammer. “Well, I wanted to see someone,” you shrugged, looking down at your hands.

“Yeah?” James asked, his gaze piercing. “Who was the special guy?”

You looked up at him through your lashes, then quickly looked away. He used two fingers to tilt your face toward him. “Eyes on me, princess,” he said softly.

“Steve. I came to ask Steve out…,” you admitted, spilling your secret.

James looked at you with you look, you couldn’t decipher what it was. But you didn’t know what to feel about it. He looked into your eyes for so long, you started to tear up due to the lack of blinking.

“Steve…,” he dragged it, and it made you wonder why. But you didn’t question it.

He continued to dab the wet cloth to your clothes. “You didn’t have to do that you know… The, um, asking the guy to apologize to me,” you broke the silence, because you couldn’t take the stuffy air that was in between the both of you.

James shook his head and chuckled as he dabbed on your neckline. “If I didn’t my Ma would scold my ear off if she knew. And, besides, a pretty girl needs to be treated right.”

You’re breathing stops at that, and you looked up at him with a confused look. He smirked at your expression, “what?” You shook you head and asked him, “you think I’m pretty?”

James scoffed and nodded, “I would have to be blind if I didn’t think your stunning, princess.”

You didn’t realise but your lips and James’ were a hair breadths away. “James…,” you tried to start but James beat you to it, “Bucky, princess. Call me Bucky.”

You gulped and nodded.

“Bucky.”

He groaned at they way his named sounded on your tongue. “Princess, your killin’ me here,” he whispered more to himself than at you. His knuckles gripped onto the counter tight. “Please…,” he muttered.

“Pardon?” you didn’t catch what he said.

“Please let me kiss you.”

You froze, you didn’t know what to do.

You always thought Bucky was hot. Hotter than Steve, but you never had any classes with him to fully judge him. You were a hundred percent sure that if Bucky was your lab partner instead of Steve, you’d totally be crushing on Bucky instead.

And if that were the case, you’d be nodding your head like a mad man. Steve was taken, you were still recovering from that. Bucky, apparently, liked you. Liked you more than you thought he did.

You saw the way his gaze flickered from your eyes to you lips and back to your eyes. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and saw his pupils dilate at the movement.

“I-,” you started but your thoughts were washed away when you saw Bucky lick his lips too. You heart thuds in your chest as you feel like the whole world is dark and the spotlight is just on you with the way Bucky looks like you. There’s a small part of you that wanted to feel how his lips would feel against you.

So, you nodded.

Before you knew it, Bucky was standing between your legs and gripping your hips. He then pulled you close and smashed his lips on yours. You took a second to understand what was going on, but when your conscious did come back to you cupped his face and kissed him back.

He licked at your bottom lip asking your permission to open up your mouth and you allowed it immediately. Soon your tongues were dancing together, yours was meek and shy letting Bucky do all the taking over. You wrapped your arms around his neck and whimpers against his mouth, which just made him groan against you.

He moved his lips from your mouth to your jaw, then to your neck. You tilted your head to give him more access, and the more you let him the more your whimpers turn to moans.

He moves his hands all over your body, “this okay, princess?” He whispered against your skin, and you nodded fervently and grasped at his black cloak. You felt him palm at your chest, and you sighed and whispered a, “more, Bucky, please.” He nodded against your skin and moved his hands up your thighs and squeezes the flesh of your thighs.

You felt the heat pool between your things and squeezed them together. Bucky smirked and pushed them away, “nuh uh, none o’ that.” He got closer to you, and you wrapped your legs around his hips and chuckled. His hands moved to your inner thighs, and you gasped out, the wetness pooling more into your underwear.

You felt his knuckles brushed against your core and you whimpered and dropped your head against his shoulder. “Please, Bucky,” you muttered against his costume. Without any other word he ripped your tights at the centre and felt the wet path of white cotton.

“Oh princess, so wet f’me already?” Bucky snickered and you nodded at his question.  He rubbed his knuckles against your cunt’s lips and pressed his fingers harder when he heard your soft mewl. “You like it don’t you, princess?” To which you nodded again and whispered his name breathlessly.

He pushed your underwear aside and sunk his thick fingers in, and you whined at the intrusion. The sweet stretch felt better than your own meek fingers and soon Bucky was pumping his fingers in and out making your legs shake. “I’m not even rubbing your clit, princess. Your legs are already shaking,” he whispered roughly against your ear.  

His thumb started to rub at your clit and that’s when you lost your mind. You mewled and moaned his name as his fingers were rubbing that deep spot in you and his thumb playing with your button has you becoming a wailing mess. He bends down and started to attack your neck. “Fuck, Bucky. Please,” you cried out as you feel your impending orgasm start to build at your core.

Bucky roughly rubbed at your clit and within seconds your gushed around his fingers. You sighed and untensed your shoulders. Bucky brought his fingers to his mouth, closed his eyes and licked them clean. You whimpered at the sight.

You both leaned in and captured the other in a deep kiss, Bucky picked you up like you weighed nothing and exited the bathroom and walked until he placed you down on his bed.

He pulled the Ghostface mask down and leaned to tower over you. You bit your lip, and he chuckled, “didn’t know princess was a bit freaky, hmm?” He unbuckled his belt under the cloak, and you took off your tutu and tossed it somewhere in his room.

When he managed to get his cock out of his pants, your eyes widened as the sheer size of him and then looked at him to see the small smirk that was painted on his lips. “Something wrong, princess?” You gulped and said, “it’s not gonna fit.”

Bucky chuckled and leaned over you once more and whispered into your ear, “we’ll make it fit, princess.” The tone he used made you shiver, and you gripped onto his shoulders and readied yourself. Bucky ran his shaft up and down you’re sit and you whined desperately.

“Bucky, please. I need you,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back. He tapped your cheek with two fingers and said, “eyes on me, princess.” And with that Bucky slowly pushed inside you. The stretch was so deliciously sweet and painful it made you lose your mind. You both gasped at the feeling of him moving further into you.

“Fuck, princess. You’re so tight,” he grits out as he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and your nails raked down his back and he let out a deep moan which made goosebumps raise on your skin.

The sound of skin slapping on skin wasn’t’ as loud as your wails of Bucky’s name and moans. When the tip of him tapped against that spot in you, your eyes rolled to the back of your mind and you squealed, “Bucky right there, oh! Right there!”

Bucky grabbed a hold of the headboard and thrusted harder into you, aiming at that same spot and you felt tears run down the side of face in pleasure. “Fuck, princess. Gripping me like a vice,” he purses his lips as he knocked his hips against yours.

You felt the sheer length of him move in and out of you, your walls embraced him like he was meant to be there in the first place. “Attagirl. Take what I give you, yeah?” He huffed against your ear. The coarse patch of pubic hair that rested at the bottom of his happy trail, rubbed against your clit giving your that nice friction and it made you whine even more.

He pressed a hand against your abdomen and pressed down harder and it made the feeling even better. He saw how you reacted and pressed down harder, and you arched your back at the feeling. With that you felt the climax in you start to rise, “Bucky, I’m so close.” You whimpered as you watched the man wearing the Ghostface mask rut into you expertly.

He threw your legs over his shoulders and rutted into your harder, the band at your core bends and bends until it finally snapped and soon you were coming around Bucky’s cock.

Bucky groaned deeply at you squeezing him tightly, he pulled out and you whined at the loss of the feeling. He was fisting his length at the sight of you post orgasmic bliss and it looked so hot from your perspective. You quickly got on your knees and replaced Bucky’s hand with yours. “Fucking hell, princess,” he ran a hand through your hair and bunched it up at the back of your head. “That’s it, making me feel so good,” he sighed and threw his head back.

He groaned when you parted your lips, the mushroom head of his member inches away from your mouth. He tipped his head back, “fuck I’m so close.” And soon you felt his warm spent spill down your throat. Bucky moaned at the sight, and his chest reverberated deeply when he saw you swallow.

He pushed you down to lay on your back again and he then he laid next to you. You reached up and took of his Ghostface mask so you can his face. “That desperate to see my face? Hmm?” He smirked at your action. You shook your head and chuckled shyly, “maybe.”

Bucky reached up and caressed your face. “You know you’re really pretty right, princess?” You blushed at his comment, “buy me dinner first, Barnes.” Bucky chuckled and then nodded, “are you free this weekend?”

You froze, “you can’t be serious.”

“Well, I kinda am.”

“You are a piece of work James Barnes,”

“Should I take that as a, yes?”

You chuckled and shook your head; you gave him a soft smile.

“I’m taking that as a yes, princess.”

🎀🎀🎀

A fic posted during the midst of exam period?!

I would like to thank @buck-star for helping me with coming up with this idea!

This took a while and it's ALOT, but late night productivity hit me like a freight train haha.

I've one more exam in the next week and I'll be done!

Hope you lovelies liked this!

Lemme know what y'all think of the fic!

Till' then,

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

[won4kiss]

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ────THE BEST GIFTS AREN’T UNDER THE TREE.

୨୧ SYPNOSiS. you and park sunghoon don’t exactly get along. you’re coworkers who seem to have nothing in common— polar opposties. he’s the polished guy from a wealthy family, while you’re just trying to make ends meet and keep your personal life private. but when an awkward run-in at the pharmacy reveals more about your struggles than you ever wanted anyone to know—maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought—maybe the person who drives you the craziest might just be the one who gets you best.

୨୧ PAiRING. enemy! park sunghoon x fem! reader, rich!sunghoon x not very rich! reader, type 1 diabetic! reader.

୨୧ GENRE. office romance, enemies to lovers, fluff & christmas romcom hallmark movie themed, minimal angst.

୨୧ WARNiNGS. profanities, kissing, yn is a little mean.. type 1 diabetes mentioned, struggles with money, ignorant hoon, not proofread.

୨୧ WORD COUNT. 8,106 / 8.1K

����𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗟i𝗦𝗧 ﹕ last christmas, wham. it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas, michael bublé. you’re so vain, carly simon. unwritten, natasha bedingfield. suburban house, holly macve, ldr. just the way you are, bruno mars. can’t help falling in love, elvis presley.

NOTE. i know it’s a bit early.. but i literally couldn’t help myself i love love love christmas!! 🤓☝️thank u guys for the support on the teaser <3 i strongly recommend reading it before u begin this!! enjoy hehe ^-^

LiBRARY | © WON4KISS all rights reserved

THE OFFICE FELT ALIVE WITH THE PULSE OF CHRISTMAS.

fairy lights draped the edges of cubicle walls, casting warm hues across the room, and garlands hung over doorways, filling the space with a faint hint of pine scent.

the air had an almost electric feel—holiday music blasted softly from someone’s desk speaker, and laughter echoed from the kitchen, where the holiday potluck was in full swing. ── 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖮𝖶!

you took it all in with a quiet sense of satisfaction, enjoying the warmth of the season.

for a few minutes, at least, the festive atmosphere helped you push aside the stress and exhaustion that had weighed on you lately.

financial strain and the challenges of managing your type 1 diabetes were constant pressures, but they were your private burdens, things you carried alone.

here, in the office, you could leave them behind, escape reality—or at least pretend to.

with a sigh, you pulled your scarf off and hung it by your desk, feeling the familiar vibration of your blood glucose monitor.

you checked the reading—steady, for now.

relief was brief, though, as you were quickly reminded of the pharmacy bill due at the end of the month, a larger sum that had grown even more unreachable since your insurance provider had started making cuts.

“hey! finally decided to show up?” a smooth voice cut through your thoughts, laced with the perfect blend of mischief and a hint of mockery.

you turned to see park sunghoon, leaning against the divider between your desks with his signature smirk.

he was dressed in a no doubt expensive, tailored coat, his dark hair disheveled in that way that looked both casual and wealthy.

sunghoon’s presence was an unmistakable reminder that you were, as always, worlds apart.

“yes, i thought i’d take pity and show my face,” you shot back, crossing your arms with an eye-roll. “wouldn’t want you to get too comfortable doing all the work without me.”

“oh, please. like i’d ever let you have all the credit,” he said, grinning as he pushed himself off the desk.

sunghoon’s wealth was an open secret around the office, though he rarely discussed it openly.

still, the designer clothing, the luxury watches, and the effortless way he carried himself spoke volumes.

he was someone who had grown up with privilege in a way you could barely fathom, and sometimes, it felt almost as if he enjoyed reminding you of it.

it was always little jabs, little comments—things he likely didn’t realize cut deeper than intended.

you let out a sigh, unwilling to let him get under your skin today, especially when the holidays usually put you in a good mood.

ignoring his stare, you logged into your computer and prepared for the day’s tasks, hoping he’d get the hint and leave.

but sunghoon didn’t move. instead, he watched you, brows slightly raised, as if daring you to keep ignoring him.

finally, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur.

“so, what’d you bring for the potluck? or is this going to be another year of pretending you’re too busy to participate?” he teased, a glint in his eye.

you bristled, annoyance prickling at your skin.

sunghoon didn’t know, of course, that you’d barely managed to scrape together enough for groceries this week, let alone something special for the potluck—but his words hit a sore spot nonetheless.

“not that it’s any of your business,” you replied with gritted teeth, meeting his gaze, “but i’ve been a little… preoccupied with other things.”

“oh? too busy for christmas spirit, mrs. grinch?” his smirk softened just a little, but the teasing tone remained. “how tragic. i can’t imagine a holiday without going all out.”

“yeah, well, maybe some of us have other priorities.”

he tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his expression—you could tell he was on the brink of pushing further, maybe digging into what those priorities might be, but before he could, a group of coworkers filed into the room, breaking the tension between you.

after a few hours of emails and spreadsheets, you slipped away for a quick break, heading to the break room.

as you made your way down the hall, you thought about the other expenses coming up—the overdue pharmacy bill, the rent check, and the dozens of smaller costs that added up so fast it felt impossible to keep up.

you’d learned to carry these worries quietly.

no one in the office had ever seen you let your guard down, and you’d grown so used to putting on a brave face that sometimes you believed it yourself.

in the break room, you reached into your bag, pulling out a small protein bar that would have to suffice as lunch.

you barely had time to take a bite before the door swung open, and sunghoon strolled in, his presence instantly filling the small room.

“skipping lunch again?” he asked, nodding at the protein bar in your hand.

you raised an eyebrow. “i could say the same. didn’t peg you for the protein-bar type.”

“oh, please.” he scoffed, moving to grab a coffee pod.

“i just had a massive breakfast. unlike some people, i actually know how to treat myself during the holidays.”

“congrats on the life of luxury,” you muttered, feeling your patience fray.

he chuckled, missing the edge in your voice—or, worse, choosing to ignore it. “well, it’s not for everyone.”

there was something almost infuriating in how casually he threw these little remarks around, as if it were a game.

you often wondered if he had any idea how privileged he sounded or if he was simply so wrapped up in his world that he couldn’t see beyond it.

you hated to admit it, but sometimes his comments stung. deeply.

“you know,” he continued, oblivious, “they’re setting up for the secret santa exchange in the main lobby. you could still join in if you want to spread some christmas cheer.”

you felt the words bubbling up before you could stop them. “not all of us can afford to ‘spread christmas cheer’ the way you do, sunghoon.”

a flicker of confusion crossed his face, and his casual demeanor faltered for a second.

you’d been careful not to reveal much about your personal life, but his relentless teasing had chipped away at your patience.

you could see him trying to piece together what you meant, his smirk fading as he observed you, perhaps noticing the hint of frustration in your expression.

but before he could press further, you gathered your things and left the break room, feeling his eyes on your back as you made your way down the hall.

the week had dragged on, filled with deadlines and holiday preparations you barely had the energy for.

by thursday evening, you’d almost forgotten about the refill you needed at the pharmacy.

but when the notification popped up on your phone—prescription ready for pickup—your stomach twisted.

the monthly pharmacy trip was always a grim reminder of the costs that piled up faster than you could manage.

you entered the pharmacy, still in your work clothes, feeling a familiar combination of dread and fatigue.

the fluorescent lights felt harsh after a long day, casting everything in an unflattering glare.

you waited in line, trying to keep your anxiety at bay, telling yourself that it would be okay.

when you reached the counter, the pharmacist handed over the medication with a sympathetic look.

“i’m sorry, y/n..” she said quietly, glancing down at her screen. “your insurance isn’t covering this anymore. the total comes to… $600.”

the number hit you like a punch. “six hundred?” you echoed, barely able to keep the shock from your voice.

“yes, unfortunately,” she said, her expression softening. “would you like to speak to someone in billing about options?”

you swallowed hard, feeling a rush of embarrassment.

behind you, a couple of people had joined the line, their eyes on you, and you could sense their impatience.

the pressure made it hard to think, and you fumbled for words, barely able to keep from breaking down. “i… i didn’t realize it would be that high.”

your hands trembled as you reached for your wallet, counting bills that would barely make a dent.

you felt the weight of judgment pressing down, and the frustration of the week boiled over into a feeling of helplessness.

in that moment, the walls you’d built so carefully began to crack—suddenly, a familiar voice broke through your thoughts.

“here, i’ve got it.”

you whipped around to see sunghoon, standing just behind you, his expression unreadable.

he held out his card to the cashier, his hand steady, his tone calm. the same calmness you often found infuriating—but now it felt like salt in a wound.

“no!” you blurted, voice louder than you intended. “sunghoon, i don’t need—”

he didn’t look at you, simply held his card out closer to the cashier, who accepted it with a nod.

the transaction beeped through, a small, simple sound that shattered any hope you had of holding onto your pride.

you took a shaky breath, trying to process what had just happened.

the thought of owing sunghoon money—let alone having him swoop in like some hero—made you feel nauseous.

sunghoon handed you the medication bag without a word, his expression unreadable, almost neutral.

but his silence only fueled the resentment bubbling inside you.

“thanks,” you muttered, barely meeting his gaze, gripping the bag tightly in your hands.

as soon as you stepped outside the pharmacy, the freezing winter air hit your face, jolting you back to reality.

sunghoon followed, catching up to you in a few strides.

his voice was calm but edged with something sharper, something you couldn’t quite place.

“you’re welcome, by the way,” he said, a hint of sarcasm coloring his tone.

you stopped abruptly, turning to face him, anger flaring up despite the chill that seeped into your bones.

“i didn’t ask you to help me, sunghoon. i really don’t need your charity.”

he scoffed, crossing his arms. “it’s not charity. i was just helping. or is that too difficult for you to accept?”

the words stung—you looked down, heart racing as you struggled to find the right response.

“you don’t get it. you don’t understand what it’s like to need help,” you said quietly, but there was a weight to your words that hung in the air between you.

sunghoon blinked, surprised by the intensity in your tone.

for a brief second, he seemed taken aback, as if realizing for the first time that there were layers to your life he’d never even thought to consider.

but just as quickly, he recovered, his expression hardening.

“maybe i don’t understand,” he said, voice low. “but i was only trying to be a good friend—you clearly needed my help.”

the word “friend” felt heavy, like it didn’t belong.

you’d spent so much time bickering with him, pushing each other’s buttons, that the idea of friendship felt foreign.

“we were never friends, sunghoon,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper. “not really.”

his face fell, just a fraction, but it was enough for you to see the disappointment in his eyes before he quickly masked it.

he didn’t respond, didn’t argue back. he just stood there, the silence between you filled with unspoken words and simmering emotions.

with a sigh, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing alone under the dim streetlights.

the next morning, you arrived at the office feeling drained, the argument replaying in your mind like a loop you couldn’t escape.

you’d spent the entire night wrestling with guilt, shame, and confusion.

as much as you hated to admit it, sunghoon had only been trying to help.

maybe his actions felt patronizing, but it wasn’t entirely his fault—you hadn’t exactly been forthcoming about your struggles, either.

you spotted him near the coffee station, and your heart thudded in your chest.

he looked up as you approached, his expression carefully blank, like he wasn’t sure what to expect.

“hey,” you began, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. “about last night… i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

he looked at you for a moment, studying your face, and you felt the tension ease slightly as a hint of a smile softened his expression.

“apology accepted,” he replied, a glimmer of his usual playfulness returning. “besides, if i can’t handle a little yelling, i shouldn’t be hanging around you, should i?”

you laughed, surprised by how much lighter you felt. “guess not.”

for the rest of the morning, there was a shift in the air between you and sunghoon.

it was subtle, but the tension had softened into something different, something… more understanding.

sunghoon seemed to go out of his way to avoid his usual teasing, and you found yourself appreciating the small moments of consideration—like when he quietly handed you a cup of coffee during a long meeting, or when he offered to take on part of a six page report without asking.

a few days later, the two of you were assigned to a client project that required an off-site visit to the city’s holiday market.

the market was bustling with vendors selling everything from handmade ornaments to spiced apple cider, and festive christmas music filled the air as fairy lights wrapped around pine trees twinkled in every direction.

you walked side by side through the crowds, the cold biting at your cheeks, but the festive atmosphere was infectious.

for once, sunghoon’s competitive edge had softened, replaced by a mutual sense of respect that felt unexpectedly natural.

he paused by a stall selling candied nuts, grinning as he handed you a small bag. “try these—they’re amazing.”

the warmth from the roasted nuts seeped into your hands, and you couldn’t help but smile as you tasted one. “not bad,” you admitted, savoring the sweetness.

he watched you with a soft, almost unreadable expression, his eyes warm in the glow of the holiday lights. “see? i knew i could get you into the christmas spirit.”

you rolled your eyes but felt your cheeks heat up, and for once, you couldn’t blame the cold.

“maybe christmas isn’t so bad,” you conceded, though your tone was playful.

you spent the afternoon walking through the market, sharing laughs and stories, with sunghoon’s usual arrogance replaced by a gentle charm that you weren’t familiar with.

there was something tender in the way he looked at you, as if he were seeing you for the first time, and you found yourself stealing glances when he wasn’t looking, wondering if maybe—maybe there was more to him than you’d realized.

the following weeks felt different—lighter, and even with the temperatures dropping even more—it felt unusually warmer.

where there had been tension, there was now an unspoken truce between you and sunghoon.

you’d catch his eye across the room and find a small, almost conspiratorial smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as if he, too, felt this strange new dynamic between you.

sunghoon’s teasing didn’t completely vanish, but it softened, became something that almost felt like an inside joke between the two of you.

and you found yourself… laughing. a lot. his wit was sharp, his timing impeccable, and his presence that you once found insufferable was now strangely comforting.

one snowy december morning, you arrived at your desk to find a small, neatly wrapped box sitting on top of your keyboard.

you looked around, half-expecting to see sunghoon lurking nearby, but he was nowhere in sight.

the gift wasn’t anything fancy—just a small pack of flavored coffee pods with a tiny note attached in his precise handwriting:

“for when the cafeteria coffee just isn’t enough. -s”

a smile spread across your face, and you felt an unexpected warmth bloom in your chest.

you didn’t know what surprised you more—that he’d noticed your disdain for the cafeteria’s bitter coffee, or that he’d gone out of his way to do something about it.

the gesture was small, almost insignificant, but it felt like a piece of kindness slipped through his carefully maintained armor.

later that day, when you saw him passing by, you couldn’t help but hold up the box and call out, “you know, bribery is illegal in this office.”

he raised an eyebrow, his lips spreading into a smirk.

“consider it a professional courtesy. can’t have you grumbling about the coffee all day and distracting everyone with your complaints.”

“oh, please,” you shot back, rolling your eyes—but you couldn’t help but laugh, feeling that warmth settle even deeper.

sunghoon was watching you, something soft and thoughtful in his gaze, and for a moment, the whole world seemed to shrink to just the two of you.

the holiday season meant long hours at the office, with tight deadlines and clients demanding year-end reports.

you and sunghoon found yourselves frequently the last ones to leave, working side by side in the glow of your computer screens as the office grew quiet around you.

one evening, you’d both stayed late, trying to wrap up a particularly demanding project.

your head was pounding, and you absentmindedly massaged your temples, eyes closed, when you heard the quiet thud of something being set down on your desk.

opening your eyes, you found sunghoon standing there, holding out a cup of tea.

“it’s not coffee,” he said, with a small, awkward smile. “but it’s supposed to help with headaches.”

surprised, you took the cup, feeling your fingers brush his briefly. “thank you,” you murmured, the warmth of the tea seeping through your fingers and into your skin.

you weren’t sure what to make of this new, considerate sunghoon—the same man who once enjoyed riling you up now seemed to be going out of his way to make you feel… cared for.

he didn’t leave, just watched you as you took a sip, his gaze holding a softness that made your heart flutter.

for a moment, you forgot the rivalry, forgot the teasing and the jabs.

all you saw was sunghoon, standing there with a quiet, almost hesitant expression, as if he, too, was trying to understand what was happening between you.

when he finally looked away, clearing his throat awkwardly, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment.

the silence hung heavy with words left unsaid, and as he walked back to his desk, you felt a strange longing settle in your chest—a longing that surprised and confused you in equal measure.

a week before christmas, the company sent you and sunghoon out to oversee a local holiday event as part of a charity initiative.

the city was sparkling with lights, carols, and people bundled in scarves and coats, laughing and chattering as they browsed the decorated stalls.

snow had started to fall, dusting the sidewalks in soft white powder.

“stick with me,” sunghoon said, giving you a wink as he led the way through the crowd. “we wouldn’t want you to get lost in the holiday rush.”

“oh, please,” you retorted, rolling your eyes—but you fell into step beside him, the easy banter warming you against the chilly air.

you wandered through the market together, occasionally stopping to admire handcrafted ornaments or taste samples of hot peppermint chocolate.

sunghoon even bought you a gingerbread cookie shaped like a snowman, holding it out with a shy grin.

“it’s not much,” he said, as if embarrassed by the simplicity of it.

“it’s perfect,” you replied, surprised by how genuine your own smile felt.

you took a bite, savoring the sweetness, while sunghoon watched you with an expression that made your heart flutter.

as you made your way through the crowd, you felt his hand brush against yours, a barely-there touch that sent a thrill down your spine.

you glanced up at him, half-expecting a smirk, but his expression was serious, his gaze focused on you in a way that made your heart race.

for a few beats, neither of you spoke, the sounds of the bustling market fading into the background.

sunghoon’s gaze held yours, intense and unwavering, and you felt a strange, almost magnetic pull between you.

you didn’t realize how close you were standing until someone bumped into you from behind, breaking the moment.

sunghoon quickly reached out to steady you, his hand firm and reassuring on your arm.

“are you okay?” he asked, his voice a whisper, his eyes searching yours.

you nodded, suddenly hyper-aware of his hand on your arm. “yeah, i’m fine. thanks.”

he didn’t let go right away, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, just for a second, savoring the warmth and closeness.

when he finally released you, his fingers lingered just a moment too long, leaving a tingling warmth in their wake.

as the evening wound down, you found yourselves standing at the edge of the market, watching the snow fall softly around you.

the streetlights casted a dim, yellow warm glow over the scene, and you could see your breath mingling with his in the chilly air.

sunghoon shifted beside you, his expression unreadable. “you know, i never thought we’d actually get along,” he admitted, his tone quiet, almost hesitant.

“me neither,” you replied, feeling a strange, bittersweet ache in your chest. “guess it took the holidays to bring out the best in us.”

he chuckled softly, but there was something melancholy in his smile. “maybe. or maybe it just took us actually… seeing each other.”

the words hung heavy in the air, their meaning lingering between you.

for the first time, you realized that he hadn’t just been teasing you all those months—maybe he’d been reaching out, trying to connect in the only way he knew how.

and maybe… maybe you’d been doing the same.

the snow continued to fall, soft and silent, as you stood together in a moment that felt suspended in time.

the following monday, you walked into the office to find an unusual hyper buzz in the air.

coworkers were whispering, exchanging knowing looks, and as you made your way to your desk, you could feel their curious glances following you.

“what’s going on?” you finally asked one of your coworkers, trying to ignore the strange, uneasy feeling building in your stomach.

your coworker glanced at you, clearly excited to spill the news. “oh, didn’t you hear? sunghoon’s engaged! his family announced it over the weekend. isn’t that amazing?”

the words hit you like a slap—for a moment, you could only stare, the world tilting around you as the reality sank in.

engaged. park sunghoon was… engaged?

somehow, you managed to keep your composure, nodding along and murmuring something that sounded like congratulations.

but inside, you felt like your heart had been stepped on and crushed into a thousand pieces.

you hadn’t even realized how much he’d come to mean to you until that moment, until the possibility of him slipping out of your life loomed in front of you.

the warmth, the stolen glances, the lingering touches—they all felt like illusions now, shattered by the cold reality of his engagement.

and as the days passed, you found yourself pulling away, avoiding him, unable to face the ache that had settled in your chest.

you convinced yourself it was for the best, that distancing yourself would make it easier.

but each time you caught a glimpse of him—sitting at his desk, laughing with a coworker, or glancing your way with a confused expression—the pain flared, sharp and unyielding.

the annual company christmas party was an elaborate affair held at a high-end hotel ballroom, decked out with garlands, chandeliers wrapped in fairy lights, and a massive christmas tree in the center of the room.

you arrived alone, shivering as the chilly air picked at your bare arms—nerves prickling as you took in the festive crowd of coworkers mingling, laughing, and toasting to the holiday season.

you’d done your best to dress up, but an unmistakable heaviness clung to you—the weight of sunghoon’s engagement lingered, even after avoiding him—you couldn’t escape the haunting of park sunghoon.

you hadn’t spoken to him in days, going out of your way to avoid his attempts to talk.

he’d noticed, of course. the confused glances, the way his brow furrowed when he caught sight of you hurrying out of a room—those small, unspoken moments were like daggers, deepening the ache in your chest.

it hurt more than you’d thought possible, this distance, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to face him.

tonight, the ballroom was filled with the sounds of holiday classics, the gentle clinking of glasses, and the murmur of cheerful conversations.

you pushed your way through the crowd, greeting coworkers and accepting the occasional compliment, but your mind kept wandering, searching for him against your better judgment.

when you finally saw him, standing near the christmas tree in a tailored dark suit, your heart twisted painfully.

he looked… incredible, polished and confident as always, but there was something else in his eyes—a tension, a restlessness that you couldn’t place.

he was surrounded by a small group of colleagues, but he seemed distracted, his gaze scanning the room as if looking for someone.

you turned quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed you, and tried to lose yourself in the crowd.

but even as you made small talk with your coworkers, your attention kept drifting back to him, your heart stubbornly refusing to let go.

at some point in the evening, the lights dimmed, and the band began playing a slow, romantic melody.

a coworker you barely knew approached you, a friendly smile on his face as he offered his hand. “care for a dance?”

the last thing you wanted was to be dragged onto the dance floor, but the thought of standing alone, surrounded by the sight of happy couples, felt worse.

you accepted, letting him guide you to the center of the room.

the music was soft and gentle, filling the room like a quiet whisper—your dance partner was polite, talking amiably as you swayed to the music, but you barely heard a word he said.

your gaze drifted, unbidden, toward sunghoon. he was watching you, his expression hidden in shadow, but you could see the pain in his eyes—a pain that mirrored your own.

for a moment, everything else faded away.

the ballroom, the music, the dozens of people around you—all of it blurred into the background as you met his gaze.

it was a single, suspended moment, one that hung heavy with all the things left unsaid, all the secrets you’d kept bottled up.

sunghoon’s expression was raw, his eyes shining with an intensity that left you breathless.

he looked… devastated, as if the sight of you dancing with someone else was tearing him apart.

a flicker of hope sparked in your heart, but you quickly quashed it, reminding yourself that he was engaged.

and yet… the look in his eyes felt so real, so heartbreakingly genuine, that you almost believed he cared as deeply as you did.

when the song ended, you quickly excused yourself from your dance partner, feeling suddenly overwhelmed.

you retreated to the side of the room, fighting to steady your breath as you chugged a glass of champagne, all while trying to make sense of the emotions swirling inside you.

moments later, the ceo stepped up to the front of the room, tapping the microphone and quieting the crowd.

he began his speech, thanking everyone for their hard work and loyalty over the past year, his words filled with the usual corporate platitudes.

you listened half-heartedly, your mind elsewhere, still reeling from the intensity of sunghoon’s gaze.

as the ceo’s speech drew to a close, he turned to sunghoon with a broad smile.

“and of course, we can’t end this night without congratulating our very own park sunghoon on his recent engagement!”

a round of applause erupted, and all eyes turned to sunghoon—he stood there, looking cornered, his face a mix of frustration and anguish as he glanced out at the crowd, clearly uncomfortable with the attention.

his gaze flicked to you for just a moment, but it was enough for you to see the raw emotion in his eyes—the pain, the longing, and something deeper, something desperate.

the applause began to fade, and an uncomfortable silence settled over the room as everyone waited for him to respond.

you held your breath, watching as he took a deep, steadying breath and then lifted his head, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before finally resting on you.

“i… i have something to say,” he began, his voice trembling just slightly, though he tried to mask it with a steady, confident tone. “my parents may have announced an engagement, but i… i can’t go through with it.”

a collective gasp rippled through the crowd, murmurs breaking out as people exchanged shocked glances.

sunghoon held his ground, his eyes never leaving yours, and you felt your heart pounding wildly, your entire body frozen as his words sank in.

“i can’t go through with it,” he continued, his voice stronger now, filled with a conviction that made your chest ache. “because… because i’m in love with someone else.”

his words echoed in the silence, hanging in the air like a confession to the whole world—the room was utterly still, every eye fixed on him, but he seemed oblivious to them all, focused solely on you.

your breath caught, and you felt a wave of shock and disbelief wash over you, mingled with a wild, desperate hope.

sunghoon took a step closer towards you, his eyes filled with an intensity that left you breathless.

“i’m in love with you, y/n. i’ve been so in love with you—for longer than i want to admit.”

the entire room was staring now, but all you could see was him.

your heart raced, your mind whirling as you struggled to process what he’d just said—part of you wanted to run, to escape the weight of all those eyes on you, but another part, a larger part, wanted nothing more than to close the distance between you and let yourself fall into his arms.

but it was all too much—the crowd, the confession, the overwhelming emotions crashing over you like a tidal wave.

without another word, you turned and fled, pushing your way through the stunned crowd, your heart pounding as you made your way outside.

the cold air hit you like a slap, shocking your senses and grounding you just enough to keep you from collapsing under the weight of it all.

you were barely halfway down the steps when you heard footsteps behind you.

“y/n! wait!”

you turned to see sunghoon jogging after you, his face pale, eyes wide with worry.

he reached for you, but you took a step back, shaking your head, barely able to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over.

“why did you do that, sunghoon?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “why did you have to say all that in front of everyone?”

he looked at you, desperation etched into every line of his face. “because i couldn’t keep it inside anymore,” he said, his voice raw, broken. “i couldn’t pretend. not when… not when all i want is you.”

you shook your head, struggling to keep your composure. “you don’t understand. you can’t just… say things like that, sunghoon. you’re engaged—your family…”

“i don’t care about any of that!” he interrupted, his voice rising. “i don’t care about the engagement, the expectations, any of it. none of it matters if i can’t be with you.”

his words hung heavy in the air, and you felt your defenses crumbling, piece by piece.

but the fear, the uncertainty, was still there, clawing at you, refusing to let you give in.

“i don’t need your pity,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “i don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”

he looked at you, hurt flashing in his eyes. “this isn’t pity, y/n. i’m not trying to save you. i just… i just want to be with you.”

for a moment, you stood there, the silence between you filled with all the things left unsaid.

and then, before he could say anything more, you turned and walked away, the tears finally spilling over as you slipped into the cab and closed the door, leaving him standing there alone in the falling snow.

the next morning, you woke with a heavy heart, the memory of last night replaying in your mind.

you felt raw, vulnerable, and yet, there was a faint glimmer of hope buried beneath the ache—a hope that maybe, this was real.

your thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at your door.

you rose, heart pounding, and opened it to find sunghoon standing there, holding a bouquet of flowers, his eyes red-rimmed as if he hadn’t slept.

you’d expected sunghoon to be at the door, waiting with an apology or a question—but you hadn’t expected him to look so vulnerable.

his usual confidence was gone, replaced by a rawness that mirrored everything you’d felt since the night before.

the bouquet he held was a mix of wildflowers and holiday greenery—red berries and sprigs of pine woven among soft white flowers that stood out against the darkness of the early morning.

when you finally took the bouquet from his hands, your fingers brushed his, sending a jolt of warmth through you.

the simple touch said everything words hadn’t—the apology, the relief, and maybe most of all, the overwhelming sense of rightness that you couldn’t ignore any longer.

the silence stretched, each of you looking at the other, feeling the weight of all that had come before and the fragile hope for what might come next.

he looked at you, eyes searching your face with a hesitance that felt new, uncertain.

“y/n…” he began, his voice soft, each syllable filled with a vulnerability you’d never heard before.

“i know last night was… overwhelming. and i’m sorry if i put you on the spot, but i meant every single word.”

you felt your heart flutter, the sincerity in his gaze unshakable—he looked at you as if you were something precious, something he’d been waiting his whole life to hold close.

and that look, filled with quiet awe and devotion, undid every defense you’d carefully built over the years.

“i was afraid to believe it,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “i was so afraid that this would all be some fleeting thing for you. that i’d just be another distraction.”

his brows knit together in disbelief, and he reached up, gently brushing a stray tear from your cheek.

“a distraction?” he murmured, a trace of pain in his voice. “y/n, you’re the only person i’ve ever been able to be… real with. you see me—beyond my name, beyond the expectations. i didn’t know how much i needed that until i met you.”

for a moment, you just looked at him, feeling the weight of his words settle over you like a warm blanket.

every snide comment, every misunderstanding, every late night spent working together—each memory replayed in your mind, and suddenly, it all made sense.

what you’d shared wasn’t just rivalry or convenience; it had been the start of something deeper, something real.

“i’ve wanted to hear that for so long,” you said, a soft laugh escaping you. “i just… i couldn’t admit it, not even to myself.”

a slow, relieved smile spread across his face, and he took a step closer, pulling you into a gentle hug. his arms wrapped around you, holding you close in a way that felt so natural, as if you’d been made to fit there.

he smelled faintly of cedar and pine, a comforting, earthy scent that made you feel warm and safe.

you could feel his heartbeat against yours, steady and strong, grounding you as everything else melted away.

“then stay with me,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “stay with me, y/n. i’ll prove to you that this is real. that i’m all in.”

you pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, searching for any hint of uncertainty.

but all you saw was unwavering devotion, a promise he seemed ready to carry for as long as you needed.

“i love you, sunghoon,” you said, feeling the words roll off your tongue, soft and unrestrained, like a sigh of relief after holding your breath for too long.

“i think… i’ve loved you for a long time. even when i couldn’t admit it, even when you drove me crazy.”

a soft laugh escaped him, and he looked at you with an expression filled with wonder, as if he, too, had been waiting his whole life to hear those words.

“i never thought i’d hear you say that,” he whispered, his voice thick with admiration and softness.

“neither did i,” you admitted, your smile mirroring his.

he leaned down, cupping your face with gentle hands as he closed the small distance between you.

his lips met yours in a kiss that was soft, warm, and filled with the quiet certainty that this was where you were meant to be.

the world around you faded, leaving only the warmth of his embrace and the lingering taste of his kiss.

the weeks that followed felt like a dream.

for the first time, you let yourself enjoy the simplicity of being with him, unburdened by the anxieties that had once kept you apart.

sunghoon’s presence became a comfort, a steady warmth that you found yourself relying on more and more.

with christmas only a few days away, he insisted on taking you to a secluded cabin his family owned, nestled in a quiet of a forest just outside the city.

when you arrived, snow covered the ground in a perfect blanket, undisturbed and glistening under the faint light of a winter sunset.

the cabin was charmingly rustic, decorated with fairy lights and pine wreaths, and a cozy fire crackled in the stone fireplace, filling the room with a comforting warmth.

sunghoon stood behind you as you both took in the view, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“welcome to our first tradition,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with warmth.

“our first tradition?” you echoed, a smile playing on your lips.

he nodded, pulling you closer. “i want to spend every christmas with you. just like this—peaceful, just us. no crowds, no expectations. just you, me, and… maybe a cup of hot chocolate.”

you laughed, turning in his arms to face him. “i could get used to that.”

he smiled, reaching up to brush a snowflake from your hair—the gesture was so tender, so filled with quiet adoration, that your heart swelled with love for him all over again.

“let’s go inside,” he said, taking your hand. “there’s something i want to show you.”

you followed him into the cabin, where he led you to a small table by the window.

on it was a simple, carefully wrapped box with a red ribbon tied around it—he handed it to you, his eyes warm and expectant.

you opened the box to find a small, delicate charm bracelet with a single charm—a tiny snowflake, etched in silver.

it sparkled under the dim light, catching the glow from the fire.

“it’s beautiful, hoon..” you whispered, touched by the thoughtfulness of the gift.

he reached out, clasping it around your wrist with a soft smile. “i wanted something that would remind you of this moment. of us.”

your throat tightened, and you looked up at him, feeling an overwhelming wave of gratitude and love.

he’d given you so much more than a gift—he’d given you a promise, a quiet assurance that he was in this for the long haul.

“thank you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

he smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “merry christmas, y/n.”

as you stood there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the snow began to fall outside, blanketing the world in a peaceful, serene quiet.

the warmth of the cabin, the gentle crackling of the fire, and the soft glow of fairy lights filled the space, making it feel like you were in your own little world.

and in that moment, you realized that everything you’d gone through—every argument, every misunderstanding, every long, quiet night spent wondering what could have been—had all been worth it.

because it had led you here, to this moment, to him.

the rest of the night was spent in quiet conversation, sharing dreams and hopes for the future as you watched the snow fall outside.

you talked about everything and nothing, feeling the joy of being together without any walls between you.

the future was a blank canvas, filled with endless possibilities, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to picture it—each memory, each holiday, painted with sunghoon by your side.

as the night drew to a close, you found yourself drifting off to sleep in his arms, the fire casting soft shadows across the room, wrapping you both in warmth.

sunghoon’s heartbeat was a steady lullaby, soothing and constant, and you let yourself sink into the comfort of it, knowing that this was only the beginning.

and as you closed your eyes, a single thought lingered, filling you with a quiet, profound happiness—

you were finally home.

© WON4KISS 2024 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

୨୧ TAGLIST OPEN ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @iluvnikism @rikibwn @sol3chu @wonsprincess @niawonn @pockyyasii @kiss4noo @nineooooo @moon368 @senascoooop @suneng @onlyjjong @blockbusterhee @wensurr @wiccangirl29 @vousmevoxes @heeswif3y @getoxo @50-husbands @wildtigerlili @letwiiparkjay @loves0ft @yuriknows : COMMENT OR SEND AN ASK TBA.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Jade Leech: J is for...

J word—

Twst devs: How can we fuck’m up real good

Intern-kun: J word bird’s eye view cleavage shot

xhjsvwiwkw Jokes aside! I love how much care he takes in maintaining his appearance, right down to ironing in the morning and purposefully styling the black strand into the “J” shape 😂 Whatever it takes to look like a gentleman, right… And he’s meticulous about his SPF just like me, frfr🧴💕

Rise and Shine!

Jade’s hands, you decided, were made for delicate efforts.

You had watched those hands a number of times, performing like skilled trapeze artists in a circus. Serving food and drink at the Mostro Lounge, rinsing the grime off of foraged mushrooms, drawing decisive graphite strokes upon a page. The terrariums sitting upon his shelf were the result of his handiwork—minuscule biomes, carefully constructed with a magnifying glass and tweezers.

Now he handled his hair with the same deadly precision. Fingers on the end of his singular black strand to keep it in place, he ran a hair straightener along the length. When the tool pulled away, the strand bounced back into a slight curl.

A perfect J to hug his handsome face. J for Jade, as he often said.

You had observed the times when a J hadn’t been the result. Too little, and the strand was an I. Too much, and the strand rebelled into a S.

“You’re so detail-oriented,” you commented from your place by the doorframe.

The response, a quiet, almost musical, chuckle. It seemed to echo off the cavernous walls of the Octavinelle washroom, bathed by sunlight-infused waters.

“It is important to maintain one’s appearance.”

“To make a good first impression?”

You knew why.

To lure his victims into a false sense of security. A neat suit, a disarming smile, and anyone would be willing to part with the treasures Jade fished for. Information, valuable information.

“That is part of it.” He didn’t look directly at you, but instead met your eyes in the reflection of his vanity mirror. “One can also glean a great amount of information from observing how another presents themselves. For example…

“You must have had a small baked good for breakfast on your way to Octavinelle this morning. A muffin, a croissant—something of that sort, yes.”

“H-How did you…?!”

His eyes trailed to your necktie, done up just the way you liked it. “… There are crumbs there.“

Your hands flew to your chest, hurriedly dusting yourself off. Jade’s small, pointed teeth showed from behind his mouth.

Amused.

“When I first came to land, I thought it strange that humans dressed differently depending on the occasion. You dress formally for strangers—work, interviews—but dress casually for your loved ones—friends, family. But I see now… It sends a message to the world about who you are and what your place in it in that moment in time is.

“Our school uniforms signify that we are students. Pajamas mean that someone is about ready to sleep or to prepare themselves for the day. A tidy appearance implies a tidy mind, and a slovenly appearance, a slovenly one.”

“Your mind scares me sometimes,” you joked. “I feel like it’s full of sharp things that could kill me”.

“Oya, is that because you are complimenting how sharp my attire is?” Jade pinched the lapels of his pajama top. “… Though I’m afraid this can hardly be called sharp.”

"You will be once you've changed." You glanced away, indicating that he should.

“Very well. Then, please excuse me."

There was the ruffle of satin coming off, the flap of fabric as it was folded and tucked away. More rustling as a new set of clothes fell over his body. The same old vest, blazer, and slacks.

"... You may look," he called softly.

You did.

And there he was, Jade Leech in his school uniform. It was perfectly tailored to fit him, dyed a simple and sleek black. His earring was in place as well, three diamond-shaped scales dangling from his left side.

A regular sight, yet it made your heart sigh all the same.

"Clothes really do make the man," you murmured, a finger at your lip.

"Fufufu. I will happily accept your praise." Jade drew himself beside you. His shadow stretched, a suit in of itself folding over you. An open hand, held out. "Shall we be on our way?"

"Yes, let’s.” You shyly slipped your hand into his, and it fit like a glove.

The black strand—coiled into a J—leapt with your shared first step.

Too little or too much. His words, running both hot and cold. But this felt…

You searched for a J word, like the shape of that stripe.

J for… Just right.

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x F!Reader Smut: Teasing will get you Somewhere

Gif found on Pinterest unknown credit

Warnings/Mentions: Blue balls, Dark/Rough!Daryl, sexual teasing (Daryl receiving) rough sex, spitting, choking, manhandling, biting, blood blisters, spanking, bruising, it might smell like dubcon but it's not

Summary: Reader wants to see Daryl at his breaking point, teasing and depriving him of release until he gets there. 

Notes: I loved writing this so much. While trying to think of a plot for dark!Daryl I remembered this idea/prompt someone had like 5 years ago where the reader teases a guy until he cracks and just goes crazy. I think it was a fanfiction, but I looked through my bookmarks and ao3 history and couldn't find anything like this so if you know what I'm talking about please let me know!!

All you wanted from the start was to see Daryl snap. He was such an aggressive loudmouthed man, but not in the way you wanted him to be. 

He'd started flirting with you to appease Merle, the man who'd instantly noticed how you swooned around Daryl. The younger Dixon didn't believe him, of course, but he approached you to avoid the harsh blows of Merle calling him a ‘belly-up pussy’ along with more distasteful slurs. 

His way of “flirting” was a lot like Merles at first. Offensive, inappropriate, you know the rest. You'd been patient enough to politely explain that you weren't like the type of women that would fuck Merle after he called them a 'sweet piece of Georgian ass', and he took the hint. 

Daryl was shockingly sweet after that. He was less verbal after learning vulgar compliments weren't the way to go, but it turned out alright for you in the end. He began looking after you like you were his full responsibility. Making sure you were fed first, bringing home clothes specifically for you, along with any other treats he thought you might like. 

It was great, aside from him never making a move on you. He gawked like you were an alien when you started dressing for his gaze, Bobby Brooks shorts, pretty tank tops, even shaving your legs once in a while. But he never made a move. 

That simply wouldn't do. 

It was late one night and you'd slipped into his tent. 

“The hell you doin'?” He cursed, wiping the sleep from his eyes as you zipped up the flap behind you. 

“Can't sleep, Carl won't stop coughing.” 

You'd been sharing a tent with Lori and Carl ever since you arrived with T-Dog. It wasn't a complete lie, Carl was coughing up a storm, sick with some chest cold, but that wasn't the reason for your lack of sleep.

“I got some earplugs.” He sat up and began shifting through his bags. 

“No, it's okay. Can I crash here tonight?” You asked innocently, kicking off your casual flip flops that you saved for night time piss breaks or trips to get water. 

Daryl tried hiding his surprise . The stutter in his voice gave him away. “Uh, sure, I guess. S’long as ya dun snore.”

You behaved for an impressive amount of time. Lying in silence, not moving an inch, waiting for him to loosen up before quietly shifting backwards until your back was pressed up against his chest. 

His heart felt seconds away from collapsing in on itself when he felt you. He'd popped a semi when you'd taken off that big T-shirt he'd given you, and now it was bordering on a full on erection.

You waited until you felt his body relax, which took longer than you originally estimated, and then wiggled your hips. 

The reaction was immediate. He sucked in a breath through his nose and made this choking sound. He grabbed your hips, only for a split second before yanking his hands away like he'd been burned. 

You wiggled again, pushing back until the feeling of the outline of his dick against your ass was ingrained into your memory. 

It didn't take long to wear him down, not at all. He let out a strangled groan and rocked into you, his self restraint long since thrown out the window.

And then you stopped.

He nearly gasped at the loss of friction. The feeling was so devastating that it sobered him, and his cheeks burned with embarrassment. 

“Wha-” he panted. His fingers loosened their hold on your hips and twitched against the fabric of your pajama shorts. “Why'd ya stah- stop?”

“I'm sleepy.” You said plainly, pulling the thin sheet up to your shoulders in emphasis. 

Daryl caught his breath behind you, struggling to make sense of it all through his confusion and disappointment. He grumbled something that sounded like it held an attitude, though sadly that was the extent of his protests. 

You needed more. You needed him to tear your clothes off and ravish you like the animal you knew he was. The Daryl that feverishly humped you like his life depended on it was cute, but you needed the Daryl that he was in his daily life. 

The only way you could think of was to force it out of him, even if it did torture the poor man in the process. 

You kept up the innocent teasing for a while. You took a break after Merle went missing, you knew your limits and his. You weren't a total selfish piece of shit. Only when you arrived at the farm and he began talking to you again did you resume your game of “teasing Daryl until he cracks”.

“How's it look?” You gave a cheeky smile as you turned in a circle with your hands on your hips. 

You'd put on the pair of green cargo shorts he'd found you. They weren't very practical, holding only four pockets, which was less than normal cargo shorts, but they were scandalous. The fabric hugged your ass tight enough to look damn near pornographic. 

“Didn't realize they were that tiny. Christ.” Daryl muttered with pink cheeks. “Jus’ give ‘em ta Beth. 

“Oh god. Can you imagine her face? That girl is still wearing pants in late summer. Her daddy would kill me.” You snorted and turned back to face him. “I'm keeping these bad boys. The fabric is soft. Wanna feel?” 

“Already felt em when I took em.” Despite his words, he set down his knife to free up his hands. 

“Give me your hand.” 

The poor boy was so eager to feel you that he practically threw his hands in yours. When you placed his palms on the sides of your shorts he seemed to snap to life, dropping the nonchalant attitude to rub his thumbs over the fabric covering your hips and thighs. 

You tried to keep the smug smirk off your face, and failed miserably. He was turning himself on just by touching the clothing that covered your pelvis. 

Suddenly, you pulled away, feeling your heart lurch in your chest at the way his face dropped.

“Thanks again. I've been needing new shorts.” 

“Yeah. Uh-huh. S'nothin.”

It went on like that for a while. 

One night you climbed into his tent again with the ruse of being cold, and he didn't mention the fact it was a warm seventy degrees that night. You were wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt and panties, and made sure to make Daryl aware of this when you slid your knee over his thigh. 

Nothing happened that night either, nothing other than pretending to sleep while he palmed himself through his jeans. 

Another time you put on those green cargo shorts and offered to tidy up his camp, an offer he was quick to accept just so he could watch you needlessly bend over to grab random objects to place somewhere else. 

Once you even made out with him. Late at night in his tent, things got hot and heavy and you straddled him, wearing the same oversized T-shirt and panties, washed since then, of course. 

He was nervous at first, you could tell by the way his hands trembled on their way up your sides. You kissed him slow and sweet, nothing too extreme, not until he pushed his hot tongue against your lips. 

You let him in and groaned at the enthusiasm he showed. He kissed you like you were still teenagers, up in the loft of some barn hiding away from Daddy. 

“Shit.” He panted against your lips. He moved his hands down to your waist and pulled you down hard, groaning when he got that first taste of friction he so desperately craved.

“Slow down.” You breathed. Your body betrayed your words, your hips rolling down gentle and slow, just enough to feel the outline of his aching cock through your clothing. 

“Why?” He muttered before pressing another kiss against your lips. “Wha's stoppin’ ya? I got condoms. Glenn's got the pill. S'fine.” 

You pulled up and away from his lips. He looked so pretty beneath you all desperate like that. It still wasn't what you wanted. 

“I don't know, Daryl-” Your voice choked into a whine when he moved under you, the friction momentarily rendering you speechless. 

“Can't ya feel what yer doin’ to me? Huh?” He snapped his hips again, forcing out another whine. “S’all for you. C'mon now.”

“Not here Daryl.” You tried to keep your voice level and firm. “Not in some tent where we have to be quick and quiet.” 

“Le’s go somewhere then. Anywhere ya want, don't care. Tell me. I'll take ya.” 

Truthfully, that almost made you give in. But it still wasn't the Daryl you wanted to experience. He was desperate, but not desperate enough. 

“Not tonight, Daryl. It's too late and Shane's on watch. He'll have my ass if he catches us sneaking out.” 

Daryl growled in frustration, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. “Won't get caught.”

“Yeah, sure. Let's just wait another night.” You pressed a kiss against his cheek, innocent enough, contrasting painfully with the way you ground down against him one last time before sliding off.

Part of you started doubting your plan. Daryl was too reluctant, too full of self doubt, too terrified at the aspect of losing whatever fun thing you had going on by pushing your limits. Even though you had no problem pushing his. 

His patience amazed you. Any other man would've thrown you to the side after the first few times, or ignored your “wishes” and dove right in. He didn't know that's what you wanted. You couldn't blame him. 

How could you tell someone like Daryl “I want you to fuck me with enough desire and aggression to give a nun a heart attack”? He'd been too gentle during foreplay, too submissive, you were beginning to think he was a virgin. 

Maggie gave you a dress. You didn't know who it once belonged to, her or her sister, but it was one of the cutest things you'd ever laid eyes on. A pretty moss green that went right below your knees, laces up your stomach the same color as the dress, and thankfully, no sleeves. 

The domestic look had Daryl in shambles. You looked like a farm wife from a damn magazine, it took everything he had in him not to fuck you behind the barn like he wanted. 

He took you out that day. On a ‘food supply run’, as he called it. You weren't anyone's first pick for runs, which you understood, you were easily distracted. It was your biggest fault.

So when he asked you specifically, and you alone, you were barely able to contain your excitement. 

The first place you stopped by was an old farmers corner store to pick up enough food so you didn't come back empty handed. A few canned goods, stale snacks and three cans of soda. 

He left that in the back of the truck when the two of you stopped by a house. A very nice house, to your surprise. 

“Can't believe this place hasn't been trashed.” You commented while rummaging through the kitchen. “No more food, but there's some lighter fluid.”

“Hm.” Daryl grunted. After securing the front door he found you still in the kitchen, chewing on a mouthful of gum. 

You'd shoved about three long sticks in your mouth. “Want some?”

He eyed the gum wrapped in silver paper before taking it from your outstretched hand with a gruff thanks. 

It was hard to focus on, his heart felt like it was in his throat, it was hard to swallow, and his jaw ached from his aggressive chewing. He'd done everything you wanted, got birth control; condoms and plan B. He found this nice house that same morning, almost immediately after seeing you walk outside in that dress. He even cleaned up the master bedroom for you, dusting off the sheets and beating the pillows, opening the windows to air out the room. 

There was no way you could wave him off now.

Oh, but you found a way. It was a talent that needed to be fucking studied. 

You were digging through the dresser in the upstairs bedroom when he approached you. You ignored the sound of the door shutting and locking behind him, pretending to be very interested in the contents of the bottom drawer. 

His hands found your sides. Your skin tingled as he pulled you to your feet and pressed you against the dresser with his palm on your lower back.

He went to kissing the back of your neck. His lips were light and soft, contrasting the anxiety bubbling in his gut. 

“Hmm.” You hummed. He brushed your hair over your right shoulder and went back to kissing your neck, peppering them all the way to the point of your left shoulder. 

“Missed ya'.” He muttered, pushing his hips forward to drive home his point. 

You tried not to laugh with pity at the feeling. He was already hard? Poor thing. 

“We're supposed to be looking for food.” You chided playfully. You shifted your ass and earned a low grunt of appreciation for the friction. 

“Then why’re ya in the bedroom?” He challenged. When you didn't respond he smirked against the skin on your neck. 

His hands didn't wait for permission. He bent his knees so he could grab the bottom of your dress, gathering it in his fists and pulling it up and over your ass. He sighed at the sight, you were wearing the type of panties he'd only ever seen on a clothing rack or behind a screen. Black soft fabric, tight and with lace around the hem, hugging your curves just right. 

“Daryl, come on.” You chuckled, but made no attempt to move. “They're gonna wonder where we went.”

He laughed, the sound dry and humorless. “Don't give a shit. They'll survive.” 

“And what is it you wanna do so bad that's more important than feeding our people, huh?” You mused, placing your palms on the dresser he was pushing you harder up against. 

“Ain't my people.” He quipped and ground into you, dying to make you feel how desperate he was for you. 

You choked back a moan. “You didn't answer my question.” 

“Want ya. Right here.”

“Want me to what?” 

Daryl sighed and released his hold on your dress to grip your waist. “Wanna fuck ya nice an’ good. Make y’feel what y’been missin’.”

You groaned. Your grip on the dresser turned white-knuckled as he pushed against you again. 

“Yeah?” Your breath trembled past your open lips. “What else?”

Daryl pressed himself closer, until his mouth was right at your ear. “Wanna feel what ya’ been keepin’ from me. Taste ya'. Shove my dick in that pretty lil’ mouth n’make ya sorry.” 

His words had an obvious effect on you. Your knees trembled and your breathing was louder, more shallow. 

But he still hadn't cracked. 

The curiosity was eating you alive. You couldn't give in now, not when he was so fucking close. You turned to face him and gave a ghost of a smile, trying your best to look sympathetic.

“Maybe some other time.” 

His eyes widened and his eyebrows scrunched tightly together. His nostrils flared as his pupils darted over your face, looking frantically for the slightest sign telling him it was a joke. He looked hurt, confused, like you just slapped him in the face and called him a slur.

There it is. 

“You-” he choked out, “Y’aint serious?” 

You forced a nod. 

“Why?” The way he raised his voice sent a bolt of pleasure through your core, and you had to fight back a whimper. “Got everythin’ ya needed. Went through the trouble’a findin’ this place, ain't gotta be quiet, ain't gotta worry ‘bout walkers or someone hearin’, the hell else you want from me woman?” 

You couldn't stop yourself from whimpering. You bit your bottom lip and tried to steady your breathing, but when you stole a glance at his face and saw the expression held there your lungs shifted into overdrive. 

He looked so fed up. 

“What are you gonna do about it?” You whispered. 

Daryl sneered in contempt. “The hell can I do ‘bout it? Not gonna beg.”

You swallowed hard. You slowly shook your head, your chest rising and falling dramatically, your body still trapped between his arms, his hands on the dresser behind you. 

“Don't want you to beg.” 

You pressed a hand between his legs and he let out a strangled groan, his elbows swaying as they threatened to give out. You flexed your fingers to massage his length, and pulled away. 

His eyes shot open and just as quick his hand wrapped around your wrist, yanking you back to his bulge and nearly breaking your fingers in the process of shoving them down the waistband of his jeans. 

After unbuckling his belt he was able to cram your hand down deeper, forcing you to feel him. 

You gasped when your fingertips made contact. You didn't know a dick could get that hard. It felt just as firm as any other extremity. 

“Daryl.” You let out a long sigh as you gave a half assed attempt to pull your hand out. His grip on your wrist tightened. 

“Hmm?” The teasing tone of his hum made your clit throb. 

“We can't-” You didn't get to finish your sentence before he scoffed and picked you up. Like actually picked you up in his arms, bridal style. He threw you on the plush bed where you bounced a few times, and dove into you.

“S’enough.” He muttered. He pulled your dress up over your waist and looped his fingers through the sides of your panties. You thought he'd hesitate, take a look at the expression on your face and back off, but he didn't. He tugged them down your legs and tossed them off the bed in a random location. 

“Ain't some pussy ya’ got on a leash.” His fingers snaked between your legs, beelining for your cunt. He groaned in surprise, his eyes rolling back at the feeling. You were beyond wet at this point, his aggression had your folds like a slip n slide with lube instead of water. 

You bit back a moan. His fingers spread your folds, smearing your wetness around, his thumb pressing down against your clit. 

“Fuck!” You gasped. Your hips instinctively shifted to the side from the overwhelming sensation, but a firm grip on your waist quickly snatched you back. 

“Think y'can do whatever the hell ya’ want, and I'll jus’ sit back an’ let ya’?” He didn't give you time to answer. He pushed a finger inside you, and both of you hissed at the feeling. “Ffuck. Shit ain't like that no more, princess.” 

Any other time you would've snapped at the insult, but his finger digging around inside you had your mind blank. 

“Wha’s wrong? Huh?” He twisted his finger and you cried out. His voice was sickly sweet, something that should've pissed you off but only fueled your arousal. “Got nothin' to say?” His finger curled, a movement that held no thought behind it, though the way you gasped and arched your back had him repeating the action. 

Then he started mocking you. “Oh no, not now, it's not right, I'm not ready!” He scoffed in disgust. “Like ya’ a lot better when ya’aint speakin’.” 

Oh, god. You should be fuming. You should be spitting venom right back at him, but this is everything you'd wanted from him. It was all going according to plan. 

Maybe he knew that, or maybe he didn't. Either way he was behaving just as you'd imagined countless times, rough, mean, cruel and demanding. 

“C'mon, try a little bit.” He growled after leaning down to bite at your open neck. “Go on. Tell me it ain't the time. Tell me.”

You were nothing but a puddle under him. Your hands became too restless and reached up to grab at him, balling your fists in the back of his shirt.

Never in your life had a man treated you like this. No matter how bad you teased and gave subliminal signals. They would either indulge in your teasing, respect your wishes and back off when told to, or kiss and plead until you relented. 

Finally someone was fucking you like you had always wanted. Or, they were about to. 

The knuckle of his thumb had been digging into your clit for a good minute now, and despite how uncomfortable it could feel at times, you came quickly. 

You sucked in a sharp gasp and locked your legs around his waist, trying to pull his finger in deeper, or make his knuckle grind harder. 

Daryl groaned into your neck as you came around his finger. His hips jerked forward and bumped against his hand between your thighs, knocking his digit in deeper. You yelped, not expecting such a sharp sensation during your warm and soft climax. 

He withdrew his finger and you whined. 

“Sh-sh-sh.” You didn't think a hush could sound so condescending. “Got somethin' better. Gonna make you regret not takin’ it sooner.”

You said it before you could stop yourself. “You don't have it in you.” 

His eyes flicked up to your face as he pulled his zipper down, a look on his face that sent chills across your bare legs.

There was slight amusement, slight relief, as if someone finally gave him permission to show off and prove himself. Lips parted into a breathy smirk, tongue peeking between his teeth, and one eyebrow raised. 

Your eyes dropped to his pants when he pulled his cock free. It looked just as you imagined when you'd touched it only minutes ago, standing at full attention against his lower stomach.

You let out a sigh when you saw it reached his navel. 

Daryl leaned down until he was level with your pussy. You heard it before you felt it, the sound of him spitting, and then warm drool dropping right on your sensitive clit.

You squealed in protest, trying to raise yourself on your elbows, but he stopped you with a hand on your chest. With his free hand he smeared his spit over your already soaking folds, even going as far as to push some inside you with his finger. 

“Ew!” You gasped. 

You felt a tingle. Subtle at first, you just assumed it was the salinity of his saliva, and then more prominent. You were close to panicking until you saw the wad of white gum shoot out of his mouth, landing with a smack against the hardwood floor. 

At least you knew the source of the tingling. You swallowed your own gum, the same way you'd completely forgotten about.

The skin around your cunt buzzed when he slapped the tip of his dick on your clit, and you squirmed beneath him. He steadied you with the same hand on your chest. 

“Wait.” You inhaled deeply. He didn't wait though, he just pushed into your clenched hole, ignoring your whines.

“Ssss-shut up.” His voice trembled. He used his free hand to wrap around the base of his dick, holding it straight as he slowly pushed in further. 

“Y-you said you had condoms.” 

Daryl let out a loud groan as he sank into you. His right hand on your chest increased in pressure as more and more of his upper body weight bore down on it, forcing the air from your lungs. 

He was so thick, and it had been years for you. The burn was incredible, in such a pleasurable way that you should've felt ashamed to enjoy. You tried to moan, but nothing came out aside from a strained breath. 

“Ain't nothin' gonna make me feel rubber instead’a this.” He grunted. He rolled his hips forward and finally pulled his hand off your chest to roll the dress up and over your body. 

“F-Fuck.” His whimper was strangled in his throat. Being completely naked under someone who was fully dressed had you clenching around him, earning another whimper from said man. 

“Should feel ‘shamed, keepin' all this from me.” 

You didn't. Not one bit. 

“But I know ya'aint.” 

You furrowed your brows, momentarily stunned by his apparent mind reading abilities. He jerked his hips forward and your face fell slack, your jaw dropping and your eyelids falling shut. 

His thrusts were harsh, but far too slow for you to get anywhere. You grabbed his shirt and used it to pull him down, desperate for more stimulation. 

Daryl happily obliged. His breath was hot on your ear before he took the lobe between his lips, sucking and licking the flesh. You gasped as he bit down on it, and you could sense the smirk on his lips. 

“Daryl?” You breathed, the name breaking on your tongue with another thrust. 

“Jesus.” He groaned, thoroughly annoyed. He released your ear and pulled back to look at you, frustration evident on his face. “What?”

“Thought I was gonna regret it.”

Your words had his upper lip twitching and his eyes widening ever so slightly. 

“Yeah?” He huffed. “S'gonna be like that?”

He rose from your chest, shifting until he was sitting on his boots. His hands grabbed onto your hips and yanked you down on his dick, forcing a cry from your dry throat. It took him a few seconds to position himself, leaning back just a bit, his grip on your hips tight, and then he started fucking you in a ruthless pace. 

It wasn't what you were expecting. Your mouth dropped into a long gape and your eyes shot open as he pounded his pelvis against yours, driving his dick so deep it reached places your fingers never had. 

Each thrust had a gasp burning in your lungs, and those gasps quickly grew to embarrassing moans. Now that you were ashamed of. If you had the ability to stop it you could, but the way he was thrusting into you rendered you utterly unable to control yourself and the sounds you made. 

“Get up.” 

You weren't sure why he even spoke, because he was moving your body by himself before you could process his command. He pulled you to the side of the bed and turned you over on your stomach, bending you over and shoving his dick back inside you so fast you shrieked. 

Your feet flew up behind you, smacking against the back of his thighs. If you could've seen it you would've laughed. 

The new angle was paralyzing. His dick was no longer tilted against the spot under your stomach, the spot that had you a drooling mess seconds ago. Now it smashed against a deeper part of you, a part that had you groaning with each frustration fueled thrust. 

“Fuck.” Daryl groaned, his pace slowing to give momentary reprieve. He wasn't as young as you, and even though he was always out there doing a hundred times more labor intensive activity, he needed a second to catch his breath. 

There was still an itch yet to be scratched. While he regained his bearings you fought to think of a way to say it without actually saying ‘i want you to hurt me and fuck me till I cry’. You'd already humiliated yourself enough. 

When he began picking up the pace again, you reached for the hand beside your head and bit down on his knuckles. Not gently, either. You bit down so hard he could've ripped a tooth out with the way he yanked his hand away.

“The fuck?” His voice was barely below a shout. “Ya’ crazy bitch!” 

There was no retaliation besides a particularly forceful thrust, to your irritation. 

“You baby.” You managed to grunt out. “Barely bit you.” 

“Barley bi-” he scoffed, looking down at the hand he now had splayed across your lower back. There were deep pink imprints from your teeth over his index finger knuckle, and the skin around it turned a bright red. 

You felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling your hand away from its grip on the bed sheets. Your heart hammered quicker than his thrusts when his breath tickled your skin, and then he bit you. In the same spot you bit him.

It wasn't nearly as hard as you bit him, but you still whimpered at the ache. 

“Point stands.” 

Daryl couldn't believe what he was hearing. His jaw set and he dropped your wrist. 

The smug smirk you'd been keeping to yourself fell when your hair was suddenly twisted in the fist of his right hand. With just that leverage alone he pulled your upper body up, and his left arm snaked around your torso to keep you flush against his chest. 

He yanked your head to the side. You gasped. 

“This what ya’ wanted, huh sweetheart?” He breathed against your ear and drew back until his dick nearly slipped out before slamming back in.  

“Mmm-oh god yes.” You blurted out between moans. 

“Jus' had to ask.” He managed a chuckle. 

“More.” 

He furrowed his brows, but kept up the slow and deep pace. He couldn't imagine what else he could give you. He was fucking you hard enough to bruise, he was pulling your hair, what, did you want him to start beating you? 

He dipped his head down to bite your shoulder, holding back just enough so that he wouldn't give you an actual wound. 

You have to consider that biting someone with enough force to actually break the skin takes a lot. Skin isn't like the flesh of a fruit. It's tough, and would require chewing to break through. So for him to stop right before that point meant he was biting you so hard you got blood blisters, and the pain was all you could focus on. 

Your wail of genuine pain had him pulling back like he'd been shocked. His thrusts slowed, and through ragged breaths he spoke, “Shit, m'sorry. M'so sorry.” 

“No.” You gasped. Your shoulder felt like it was on fire, and your walls cleaned around him in response. “So good. Feels so good.”

Daryl let out a huff in relief. “Ya’ weird as shit, yanno that?” 

“Mhmm.” You groaned, pressing your ass back tightly against him. “More.” 

He took a deep breath to steady himself and pushed you back down on your stomach. He had to work himself up to it, the idea intimidating. Once his thrusts were back to their former sharp pace he raised a hand in the air. 

You tilted your head to the side so your cheek was pressed against the blanket. When you saw his right hand held up, your heart leapt. You never nodded so quickly. 

Daryl ground his teeth together, glancing down at your ass, your face, and back to your ass again before smacking his hand against it. 

It was barely a love tap. 

You groaned, wiggling your hips and earning a moan from him in response to the feeling on his dick. 

He took the hint and gave another smack, harder, but still not giving that burn or satisfying ‘smack’ sound you wanted.

“Daryl, please.” You whimpered. “Hurt me. I'm not made of glass.” 

You barely got the last word out before he slapped you. Open handed, fingers spread and slightly curved to mold perfectly against your asscheek. You yelped and instinctively tried scooting up the bed, held back by his left hand on your hip. 

It clicked in his head then. No wonder people liked spanking so much. His palm tingled and he could see a faint handprint start to color your skin. And the way you reacted, that sound you made, your body trying to get away from him, it made his dick twitch. 

“Fuck!” You cried out after another hard slap. The pain fully distracted you from the ache in your shoulder, white hot pain spreading across your ass and up your spine. 

“Such a baby.” He meant it to sound patronizing, but he was still too amazed by the new turn on he'd discovered, and the words came out breathless. 

Your whimper bled into another cry as he spanked you again. 

And again. 

Again, again, until you were on the verge of tears, sobs bubbling from your wet lips as you tried to squirm away from him. 

As if you actually wanted to. Which you clearly didn't. You were practically gushing around his dick. 

He rubbed his palm over the deep red skin, barely soothing the blinding burn he'd left behind. “Goddamn.” 

“M'gonna cum.” You were literally drooling. 

He snapped his attention away from your ass and back to you. “Whaddya want, huh?” He quickened his pace once again, jolting forward to press his body against your back. You whimpered at the way he moved, his dick pushing deeper inside you. 

“More, please,” you stuttered, trying desperately to work your hand under your body, which proved to be difficult due to his weight on top of you. 

Daryl noticed and lifted your hips with his hands. He shoved your eager arm out of the way and rubbed your clit with his own fingers, fast and deep in a way he assumed you'd like. 

You moaned under him, arching your back, feeling him slip in further. It was as if he grew another inch every five minutes. Or you grew another inch deeper, and he was staying the same. Either way he was deeper, and it felt immaculate. 

The rise to your climax was slow, but powerful. You were fully prepared to gently tip over the edge and slide down in bliss. 

That was before he slapped your pussy. Then you fell down gasping. 

Daryl held onto your body like you were a wild mustang, trashing and twisting under him in ecstasy. He withdrew his hand and grabbed your hips again, resuming his brutal pace, clamping his teeth down on the back of your neck to keep your bodies anchored together. 

It took a while for you to come down from your high. When you did it was violent, the pure bliss smashed away by burning overstimulation. 

“Fu-uck!” You heaved in deep breaths. “Daryl s’too much, can't, wait!”

“Ever since that night ya’ came in my tent, blue ballin’ me like that,” he growled against your neck, “-been dreamin’ ‘bout havin ya’ like this. Fallin’ apart. Face full’a tears. Ain't stoppin now.” 

He wasn't bluffing. He didn't stop. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, ramming into your abused cunt, only slowing to shift in positions so you were on your back. 

The air felt amazing against your chest. Daryl ripped that feeling away with gnashing teeth, biting your hard nipples and alternating between sucking and pinching.

The house had to be surrounded by walkers by now. There was no way it wasn't, you were crying and moaning like you were getting paid for it. 

“Oh, god.” You wailed as another orgasm built up quicker than ever inside you. “Oh please, fuck, god!”

A jolt of pleasure shot through your core when Daryl's hands wrapped around your throat. 

Now, Daryl was no stranger to strangling someone. He'd choked plenty of people out before.

In fights.

He was unaware there was a different type of choking for pleasure. Instead of squeezing the sides of your throat with his thumb and fingers, he wrapped both hands around your neck and fucking strangled you. 

You squeezed your eyes shut so tight they ached as you came. Your orgasm had started off blinding, overwhelming every inch of your body, but Daryl's crushing grip soon muted the tail end of your climax and filled your ears with a deafening ringing. 

Daryl pulled his teeth off your nipple and panted against your ear. “Lemme cum inside ya’, sweetheart.”

You could barely process what he'd said. You forced your eyes open against the pressure induced burn, trying to find his face, only to see the side of his head. 

“Can't pull out.” He growled and released some of the pressure around your throat. Oxygen and blood flooded your head, leaving you dizzy and with black around the edges of your vision. 

“Can't, m'sorry. Oh, huh-  fuck!” His voice was strained as every muscle in his body tensed up. His hips surged forward, stuffing his dick balls deep to coat the end of your walls in his cum. “Mmm-fuck s’good. So good. Ohhh, Hah-” 

He choked on his moan. He moved his head, replacing his hands around your neck with his mouth, kissing and biting at the tender skin as he spurted ropes of hot cum inside you. 

Your body broiled under his crushing form. Your thighs relaxed from their clamped position, falling off his waist and dropping to the bed beneath you. Your lungs ached and your throat was raw, but your pussy buzzed so intently it felt like you had a vibrator pressed against it. 

“Oh, god.” The tone was full of dread and you forced yourself to focus on Daryl. 

“What?” You croaked. There was a stabbing pain in your neck from Daryl choking you out like you were a man his size. 

“Yer all fucked up.” He whined. He traced his fingers across your throat. “S’bad. Oh fuck.”

“Calm down.” You sat upright after he pulled back enough for you to do so, his dick dragging out against your trembling walls in the process and making you hiss.

“It's okay. I'll just tell em a walker got the jump on me. We've all seen them grab throats. It's fine.” You pressed a kiss to his worried lips. 

“Gonna tell em a walker did that too?” He pointed an exhausted finger at the bite mark on your shoulder, which was now in the early stages of a deep bruise, not to mention the blood blister in the shape of his teeth.

You laughed softly. “Fuck no. I'll just skip the tank tops for a week or two.”

That seemed to settle him enough and he nodded, moving to lay on his back. 

“That was amazing.” You broke the long silence. “Seriously. You're the first man to ever… you know.”

Daryl furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at you. “Huh? Y’never…?”

“No! I mean…” you sighed. “Never had a man make me come.”

Now he was at full attention, sitting upright and leaning back on his palms. “Nah, no shit.”

“I'm serious.”

He let out a light scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. “Jesus.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he watched you climb off the bed to grab your thrown panties. “Me too.”

You glanced over your shoulder as you stepped into them. “Really? You never…?”

He nodded, going back to biting his cheek. 

“How'd you last so fucking long?”

A cocky grin crept across his lips at the compliment behind your words. He was worried he didn't last long enough. And you just asked him how he held on so long.

“Jerked off like, ten fuckin’ times today.” 

That meant he knew he was going to fuck you today. Heat spread through your core again, despite how worn out you were. You smiled and climbed back on the bed to smother him with kisses. 

“You're so fucking hot.” You mumbled against his lips, which were moving weakly against your own. 

“Says the bitch that wouldn't fuck me.” He chuckled. 

“Just wanted you to make the decision for me. It's a lot hotter that way.” You hummed, pulling your swollen lips away from his. “It worked.” 

“Psh.” He rolled his eyes and began stuffing his soft cock back in his jeans. “Put yer clothes on. Place is probably crawlin' with walkers. Le’s get the hell outta dodge before anymore show up.”

Now that Daryl was in on your little game, you couldn't wait to play again. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx @jinx-nanami

[mysmalldevotion]

♰ sevikas obsession with watching you ⋆₊˚

description: kind of nsfw drabble about sevika who can’t get enough of your every move.

cw: suggestive, no smut, horny tho, pet names (baby, doll), reader wears a dress + is implied to be feminine, gendered terms (girl, etc) , reader “flips her hair” at one point

a/n: too lazy to write a fanfic right now so have this instead. as always please submit requests if you have any.

MINORS DNI.

Sevika watched you every time you came into the bar, eyes trained on your every move. Every time you laughed at something some sleazy guy said, clearly trying to swindle more drinks out of them. Every time you fluttered between the jukebox, to the tables, and back to the bar again. It was her favourite pastime.

Her eyes would linger so directly, so intensely, everyone at her table could feel it. If the way she repeatedly disregarded her hand of poker to watch you instead wasn’t obvious enough.

She loved when you got wilder and more carefree as the night progressed, a gradual but steady change that happened without fail every time. It revealed things about you, made her feel like she knew you through those little cracks in your party girl facade. Your skin slowly got hotter and hotter, little hairs sticking to your face and neck. Each drink made you feel looser as you transitioned from swaying slowly to the music to dancing, hips rotating to the rhythm of the song, enjoying yourself. Not one person in that joint was good enough for you. Couldn’t give you what you needed. Well, except for one. Her.

She could give you what you wanted, what you craved. You were only there for one thing. For someone to take care of you.

And it’s not like you didn’t notice her. Oh, you did. How could you not notice someone like her as soon as you step into a room? Her presence commanded the attention of everyone in attendance. It didn’t matter if she was storming through the building toward Silco’s office, having a drink at the bar, or sitting with her legs spread and a stack of cards clamped in her flesh hand like she was now, everyone saw her and you were definitely no exception.

The first time you caught sight of her, she was hustling over to a reserved table in the back, powerful muscles rippling with every movement. You needed to know her name. You turned to the bartender (Chuck, was it?) and asked him.

“Who’s that?” You gestured vaguely with your head in the direction of the imposing woman.

“That’s Sevika, Silco’s number two. I’d stay away from her if I was you, sweetheart.”

Over time, you loved reciprocating, staring back just as fiercely every time you noticed her. The urge to tease her from across the room was irresistible and you indulged in it. You intentionally licked your lips after every sip of your fruity drink, wore short short skirts just so you could show yourself off to her, whispered naught things in the ears of strangers at the bar, all while maintaining heady eye contact. You couldn’t help yourself with the addictive way her attentions made you feel, warm and breathless.

And you knew she loved it too, even when her jaw visibly clenched and the cards in her hand were squashed in her tight grip.

What you didn’t love was the waiting. The both of you would stare at each, practically fucking with your eyes, but neither one of you did anything about it. It was almost as if Sevika wanted you to beg for it, crawl to her on your hands and knees and plead for her to help you, take you, touch you. And you, well, you were just too damn stubborn for that.

So after countless nights of skirting around it, you took one last sip of your drink and marched toward the throng of bodies writhing and gyrating to the music.

If she wasn’t going to give in first, fine. You’d just have to make her.

It started off slow, closing your eyes and losing yourself in the music. The beat, heavy and pulsing, jumped in your ears and thrummed through your whole body. You tossed your hair over your shoulder as you moved in a tight, rhythmic circle, surrounded by flushed, sweaty bodies.

Your fingertips brushed against your skin, gliding up, up, up the length of your thighs. The urge to open your eyes and find hers, which were no doubt watching your every move, was overwhelming. But you steeled your resolve and continued this push and pull, rolling your hips much more purposefully now.

The relentless flickering shades of purple and blue cast an otherworldly glow across your sweaty flesh. Darkness, light, darkness, light again. You swivelled in Sevikas direction, knowing she was watching you, and of course she was. Her eyes were buried beneath furrowed brows, those deep pools of brown recognisable even with the distance between you. Every flash of light revealed her gaze again, increasingly torn between enjoying the view and stomping over to join you each time.

Slipping your eyes shut again, you decided to finish the show. Drive the nail straight into the coffin. And the closest idiot would have to do.

He was tall, brown hair, plain, not bad looking but definitely not who you really wanted. He was quick to follow your lead as you pulled him over, none too gently, by the arm and ground yourself right up against him, his hands floundering for a moment before you steadied them against your hips just like that.

Before you knew it he was gone, though. There was a flurry of movement and a little commotion, leaving you flustered and confused, but the big, solid wall of muscle that took his place immediately after told you all you needed to know. The thick, cloying smell of smoke and warm flesh surrounded you and you looked up, pleasantly unsurprised to find Sevika staring back down at you. The angle was a bit awkward and you couldn’t really see from the strobing lights but she looked a mixture of pissed and something else, her nose flared and extremely kissable mouth set in a frown.

The drinks, the music, the overstimulation of it all had your senses totally inebriated and your skin buzzing. You couldn’t help yourself from grinding back on her crotch, your skin meeting the cool, hard metal of her belt.

“Was waiting for you,” you said over the music.

She grunted, eyelids fluttering as she bumped against your ass repeatedly, assuming a senseless rhythm. Sevika leaned down to your height and spoke into the back of your ear.

“Can’t hear you, doll.”

Before you could reply, she began trailing little sucks and kisses down the skin of your neck. Your next response was breathy and jerky as you clenched your thighs together and leaned into her touch.

“Said I…w-was waiting for you to come take care of me.”

Sevika nodded and stilled your movements sharply with two large, firm hands on each hip.

“Let’s get out of here, baby, yeah?”

🇵🇸 click here for information on how you can help palestine

[midnight-wildflowers]

Again?

Warnings: mild swearing, fluff.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X F!reader. Previously established relationship

Blurb: you lost your phone and Bucky helps you find it!

“Where is it? where the fuck did I put it?” you mutter to yourself as you look all over your house for your phone “he's gonna kill me!” Pillows were strewn all over the place along with blankets and books in the lounge room. The kitchen had draws half open and cupboard doors half closed. You were a mess, make up half applied hair not even done as you make your way to the bedroom which looked worse than the lounge room and kitchen combine. Clothes all over the floor, your previously made bed looked like 10 people tried to sleep in it and fought over the quilt.

What started this debacle? Well you and Bucky had a date and he told you he would pick you up but you can't remember what time he said. You were half way through getting ready when you second guessed yourself. Your sure he said 7pm but now maybe it's 6:30pm and it's currently 6:15pm. Growling at yourself you realised you can't answer the door looking the way you are. So you quickly finished up your makeup and put on your favourite black dress when you hear a deep voice call out “Doll? Is everything okay?”

“Uh um just a minute” you call out panicked coming out of your room hopping as you put your shoes on.

“What happened? Did someone break in?” Bucky asks concerned looking you over making sure you were okay.

“Um no, please don't be upset I lost my phone again” you say quietly red with embarrassment. You'd lost your phone so often he had threatened to attach an air tag to it or by you a flip phone to ring yourself from. He laughs “again, okay Doll did we retrace our steps?”

“Yes Bucky I did.. 4 times” you dead pan

“Okay, okay” he grins pulling out his own phone and calls yours while you both listen out for it. “It's in the kitchen” he says as you both move closer to the kitchen “Doll, either the fridge has started playing music or that's your ring tone”

You open the fridge and find your phone sitting in place of the cheese when realisation hits you. You got hungry while doing your make up and took your phone with you and accidentally put your phone in the fridge instead of the cheese which was still sitting on the bench. You sigh to yourself and grab your phone and put the cheese away

“How much time do we have before our reservation because I don't wanna leave the house looking like this” you sigh wrapping your arms around his waist

“We have about 30 minutes Doll, you do the lounge room I'll take the kitchen and we can do the bedroom together” he says softly kissing the top of your head and lets you go as he begins closing doors and drawers, while you put the pillows back on the couch and the blankets over the arm of the couch.

You both make your way to your bedroom and your grab all the clothes shoving them in the wardrobe with the shoes while Bucky begins straightening the bed “you ready to go Doll? He asks putting the last pillow in its place

“Yeah let me grab my bag” you say and walk behind the door to grab it “Buck I've lost my phone again” you sigh face palming

He laughs softly “okay I'll cancel the reservation and order take out” you sigh and sit on your bed taking your shoes off and slipping the clip out of your hair. He wraps his arms around you laughing softly “never change doll”

Authors note: Hi everyone I know been awhile since I've written. This story was inspired by me loosing the kitchen bench wipes and talking to a friend and realising I've lost my phone so many times and my fiance just wondering how every single time. My friend did actually lose her phone in the fridge so I thought that was funny! @fandomxo00

[jjkarmy091]

Second Best- Jungkook (part 6)

Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?

Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Jungkook woke up around 9:30 am. The first thing he did was check his phone in case he had any notifications from Y/n, but had none. He was seriously getting worried about this lack of response. Had something happened with the person Y/n left with? If that was the case he would never be able to forgive himself. He knew he should have gone after her, he's so stupid. 

He got up, took a quick shower, got dressed, grabbed his keys and left, he couldn’t keep up with this uneasy feeling. Putting his helmet on, he drove to the coffee shop Y/n worked. He knew her shifts very well, and that was the only place he could find her. When he got there, he parked his bike, took a deep breath and got in looking everywhere for her but still no Y/n in sight. 

“Hey there moto boy. What can I get you?” Sana asked. Jungkook looked kinda confused. “I was actually looking for Y/n. Is she on her break?” Sana frowned and looked at him suspiciously. 

“You’re kidding right?” Sana exclamed. “You are always together and talk to each otherall the time when you aren’t. You can’t tell me you didn’t know she took some days off” 

The world fell at Jungkook's feet upon hearing that. Y/n took a few days off and didn't even answered to his texts or deign to call? what the fuck was going on. Jungkook nodded his head, said thank you and left, picking his phone up instantly to call Y/n. “The person you called is not available. Please try again later” 

Fuck. Me

------------ 

Y/n fell in love with that place as soon as she saw it. Everywhere she looked she she felt immense peace and everything seemed so quiet and cozy, everything to make the weight on her shoulders disappear. Upon entering the chalet, they were immediately greeted by a gentleman at the entrance who directed them to the reception.

After checking in and receive the keys, they picked up their luggage and followed the gentlemanto the elevator, who was showing them the way to their "apartment”. Y/n couldn’t believe what her eyes were seeing. Walking in, she’s faced with a very nice living room, with wooden walls and gray furniture. It had shelves with books, among other really cute stuff decorating the place. All very neutral and very light, exactly what she needed. On the coffee table was champagne and a plate with strawberries and chocolate with a small note saying "we hope you enjoy your stay as much as we enjoy your presence. Thanks for choosing us. Have fun" 

From the living room they went to the bedroom to organize their things. When they walked in Y/n was even more astonished. From their bed they had a view of the outside. She always loved snow and being there was filling her heart with so much happiness she wished she could live there forever.

“Where did you find this place and how can you afford it for both of us?!” Y/n exclaimed. Lisa looked at her with a funny look “My dad owns it. A benefit of traveling so much and not seeing his family for so long, not everything can be bad. I used to come here for Christmast and New year. It's crazy during those days and you know me, I love crazy and those were my favourite moments here”

Y/n laughed. Only Lisa could say something like that. 

“So… You know how to ski right?” Lisa asked out of nowhere. “Oh hell no Lisa, no way, not right now, we just got here we should—” Y/n argued back but was soon interrupted by Lisa 

“There's a snow suit in the closet on the right. We have a lot to discover we won't wait until tomorrow. You rest during the night. Come on princess, time is money” Y/n huffed while getting her suit to start putting it on.  How could Lisa have so much energy was something she couldn't understand.

They both got dressed and head out of the chalet. Y/n was amazed by the view, everything was perfect. But it’s not an adventure if something doesn't go right for Y/n. Out of nowhere she lost sight of Lisa, making her panick. She had no idea where she was.

Y/n looked around trying to see her friend but couldn’t identify anyone who would look like her. She started walking around worried about straying too far from where Lisa last saw her. Y/n was so distracted that she didn't even notice anyone coming close to her, ending up colliding with that person, causing her to lose balance and fall. The other person quickly knelt down, stretching out his hand to help her until she heard “Y/n?” 

She looked up, took the stranger's hand and straightened her hair a little, trying to understand where she recognized that voice from, until the stranger took the protective mask off his eyes and saw him.

“Taehyung?”  

Tags: @esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp @differentrunawayperson @nikkinikj @jksusawife @11thenightwemet11 @jk97bam @11thenightwemet11 @cryingoverpixelsetc @bhonbhon @lostinneocity @almostpurplelady @meowforluv

[earth4angels]

HOUR OF THE STARS 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⠀⠀𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: love had two endings. every ending that was read in the book of the fate never appealed to anyone. it was either to accept the one you love walk down the aisle with someone else or to kill anything that stood your way. ⠀⠀𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst with no happy endings. major character death. mentions of adultery? short quick lovemaking. mentions of blood/gore. reader takes control, shes heartbroken, sad. the dance did not happen. jacaerys had his wife chosen to become king. very short one shot.

The invitation from House Targaryen seemed as though it burned through your vanity, the weight of its contents mocked you. Your cold dainty fingers ran through the expensive parchment paper, the words burning through your brain. The words kept repeating over and over, your mouth moved in silence reading the heading. You did not know whether or not to begin to allow the salty tears your eyes were holding back to pool its way down your cheeks or to scream into the void of your window where the clouds were your only comfort.

You knew this day was coming. The denial carried on your shoulders, the hope overcoming the fears that denied you sleep every night. Every kiss, every touch, every whisper and moan as hands roamed bodies late at night held desperation to dishonor the duties from birth.

A choked sobbed ripped from your chest as you crumbled onto the coldness of your floor. The knife twisted and pushed so deep you gasped as every tear pooled along your embroidered dress.

HOUSE TARGARYEN INVITES YOU TO JOIN THE UNION OF: PRINCE JACAERYS VELARYON AND PRINCESS BAELA TARGARYEN.

The reality now stared at you washing away every hope that you held onto as you allowed to love with every pounding moment. This was no one's fault but yours and your lover that kissed you promising he would fight for your hand and no matter what his mother - the queen - said he would never leave you.

That night as you held the rich parchment paper that smelled like oakwood and faint salty waters, you cried loudly as the stars rained down by the permission of the Gods who allowed a shower of sadden angels carry your pain.

Several nights passed and the Vale held a sentiment of loneliness and white silence. Locked away in your chambers you sat with your head empty, your chest remained with a gaping hole. Your heart remained in the hands of the honorable man that begged to see you one last time.

Your eyes were wide open staring blankly at the clouds that moved against your windows. You wore nothing but your sleeping silks. Every single day passed, and you repeated a cycle that was forcing your legs to move towards the warmth waters of your bath and back to the bed. A cycle that never wavered considering the fact you felt like the time had stopped and all you had left was death.

The pages of your book felt hard against your fingers that shivered from the open window of your balcony. Your long hair covered your features from the ravens and the moon that only wanted to console the pain. The door creaked open; your fingers only stopped trailing the words of the passage though you made no move to look at the intruder of your silence.

"You will catch a cold if you allow the cold air in more," the voice that made you weak in the legs made you flutter like a mockingbird's wings. You were afraid to look into the eyes that made you want to drown.

"Can you look at me?" He said as he stepped closer, his red cloak trailed the paleness of your floors. The moon shined a light upon his skin making him glow. "Please."

Your voice was soft, low that at first it sounded like nothing to Jacaerys but then he understood. You never moved; he watched as your hands held onto the hard cover of the book you read tightly; he saw the faint lines of your veins protruding.

"To what can I serve you Prince Jacaerys?"

Your words were like sharp knives stabbing him repeatedly. He deserved it, he failed to convince his mother of his true love. The one he truly wanted to marry and walk along him as his Queen. His mother's words repeated in the back of his head like a reminder of his duties as future king of The Seven Kingdoms.

"As I was your age, I had to marry to bring honor and because it was my duty as heir. I know you will do the same, and there is nothing better than unifying the family and making our blood stronger than marrying Princess Baela."

The burden of being an older son, the heir to the throne suddenly felt too hard for him. He was raised with responsibilities, honor and faith. There was only ever a woman to him and that was you, who avoided his gaze as all he had to gaze softly to be the silhouette of your smooth back.

"Y/n... please. I am deeply --"

You scoffed, throwing your book across the room, you raised your hand to stop him. "I beg your pardon. Are you truly sorry?"

"I am. I wanted to tell you first; I wanted to be the one to deliver my failed attempts to beg my mother to allow me to court you officially instead of hiding in the shadows of our walls!"

Jacaerys never raised his voice, but he was desperate, angry and most of all he was hurt. He was minutes away from walking away from the one person who kept him uphold and strong. You were the person that lifted his spirits, the person he would choose over anyone if he could over and over.

Finally with a tear that slipped from your dull eyes, you faced him, your figure frail and delicate compared to the woman he was used to seeing. The strong, fierce lady of the Vale who was good with her swords stood upon him with dark circles and chapped lips, her hair that was constantly braided in pretty twirls was in tangles.

"You are standing in front of me spurting lies, Prince Jacaerys. I would like for you to leave and never come back."

His title never sounded more humilating than coming from your mouth. He cringed at the coldness of your voice that cracked towards the end. He was not going to leave; he will never leave you.

"No, my lady. I will not."

You sniffled, your lips curling into a tight line.

"What do you want from me? What more do you want? I saw the invitation; I knew this was coming and I was a fool! I held an illusion that you and I could ever be! The worse part of this union is not that we were given false hope but..." You paused, the tears feeling like hot trails of lava down your cold cheeks, "You promised to try."

It was then his strong facade fell. The sounds of your choked sobs that you fought hard to keep within was enough to send him to the pits of the Gullet. He had told Baela of his relationship, and she was regretful, full of pity for her cousin that had no choice but to follow the tradition of their family.

"Go to her Jace," was all she said before she placed a warm hand on his shoulder and a soft kiss on his cheek. "The least you could do is give her peace."

Jacaerys moved, his feet like an instinct walked towards the one that made his heart throb so loudly he feared the Gods heard. You stood with your head in your hands as you sobbed, holding in the cries that began to hurt your chest and throat. He wrapped his strong arms around you, never moving, never once debating if he should step away. When you began to fight against his hold, your yelps of hurt as you swatted at his chest repeatedly, he only held you as he cried with you.

"I love you more than the stars loves the sky, more than the moon loves the sun, more than air and anything in the world."

You sobbed against his chest, your head shaking in disbelief, "No. No. No. No."

Jacaerys held your face, his heart breaking in tiny pieces that had no repair. He cried as he nodded, the tears streamed down his freckled cheeks rapidly, his lashes carrying the droplets of a broken future. "I love you. I do. I love you more than anyone. I am so sorry. I am sorry I failed. I am sorry I cannot give you what I promised --"

You interrupted his ramble as you swallowed his pain with yours. The kiss was wet, desperate and filled with agony that had both lovers crying a future they wanted to fulfil.

"One last time. Please."

Jacaerys broke away in a short exhale, he trembled, "I cannot... Baela."

You smiled softly, "You have not married her, and after today you will never see me again."

He shook his head, denying the cold truth, "No... You cannot leave me. I can try again. I can end the marriage. Aegon the Conqueror had two wives."

You only smiled tearfully, the words igniting a huge hole that had you wanting to throw yourself to an angry dragon at the pit of King's Landing.

"Jacaerys," you shushed him, your hands brushing back the wet strands of his curls, "I love you. My heart is always and forever will be yours."

He gathered you in his arms as he whimpered, "Y/n... please. Don't give up. I have not, I will fight my mother -"

You kissed him once again, this time with more force as you made sure you marked your scent, your presence deep in his skin. He moaned with a deep need to forever be in your hold. He wanted more, he needed you to bond yourself with him one last time.

As you laid him in the fur of your bed, you leaned over him. Capturing his hands as you laid kisses on his palm, memorizing every bump, tethered skin and beauty marks that made him real. He only watched quietly, his hands on your thighs, trailing a path of recorded memories that he will always remember.

Your lips trailed his skin, counting how many kisses and slight bites it took to reach his forbidden lips. Your words marked a poem that will never leave his mind till the day they burn his body by dragon fire.

"In this space right here that we have made for each other," you kissed his chest, your fingers removing every piece of clothing one by one, "You can say anything, and I will not abandon you..." You sat on his lap watching him with teared eyes matching his, slowly you placed your lips upon his, never moving, just allowing the breath of his broken heart ink itself into your soul. Finally, you said, tears flowing, splattering upon Jacaerys' cheeks, "Unwrap the worst things you have done and watch me hold them up to the light and not even flinch."

He gasped, his eyes widening when he felt you sink onto his cock so painfully slow all he did was cry as he held you. In a rhythm of loud sobs and tearful kisses, you allowed to be surrendered by the heat of Jacaerys Velaryon, your king, one last time.

Jacaerys never flinched when you marked his skin, he counted every lash on your eyelids, every mark on your skin from the wars you had been through. He kissed and licked every part of your body that left you crying his name out into the cold air. From afar he heard his dragon, his soul bonded mate roar into the air and he smiled. He smiled as you trembled into his hold, he smiled as you opened your eyes as much as you could to watch as his mouth devoured your insides. He smiled against your skin when your fingers tugged into his curls as his tongue was deep in your haven, he smiled when he felt the juices of your nectar flow down his throat, he smiled tearfully against your neck as he profoundly declared the love he had for you.

He smiled with trembling hands that held yours in complete silence as he begged to look at him straight in the eye one last time, coming together from the highs you were going to miss. He groaned as he released his seed deep inside you, marking your walls and your entire being as his.

In silence, you watched as he gathered his things, clipping his cloak onto his vest. He moved towards you and wrapped you around his waist as he prepared a bath for you. When you complained to wash him, he swatted your hand aside.

"What am I to let you do that for me? Tonight, let me treat you my beautiful love."

You did not know how much you could cry, but every touch of his had you with a final decision. Life without Jacaerys was not possible. So, as he playfully ticked you, and washed your hair delicately with a gentle smile on his tired face you stared in silence, memorizing for the final moments of your life how it felt to be loved by a man who had no choice but to follow a duty.

He sat by you, his back pressed against the headboard of your wide bed, you laid against him. He said nothing and you were okay with that fact. You were also just appreciating the happiest times of your life. His fingers played with your hands as he laid kisses on your head, he took a deep breath, breathing in your scent of vanilla.

He swore as he heard you fall asleep against him, mummering against the open shoulder of yours, "I promise, I will make you my wife, my Queen, no matter the consequence. You and I are meant to rule together. I promise."

That promise never became true.

On a full moon, where the stars rained down from the heavens. The rushed steps he took as he desperately wanted to make his petition to his mother. He stopped, the hopeful smile that laid on his lips slipping, there, beside his mother stood Lady Jeyne Arryn in black. His eyes quickly scanned for your bright, beautiful face, seeing you nowhere, he felt the surge of pain. The pain was so deep it felt like he was burned alive, like water seeping into his lungs and he wanted to scream for help.

On the night of a half-moon, hidden behind numerous clouds, no stars in sight, you had taken your life in the cruelest way. Among the highest mountain where you had given your maidenhood to the love of your life, you had taken poison. The guards of your home found you with a smile on your face as your entire body was covered in blood, you choked in your own blood as the crows made a feast of your cold body. Upon records, you went missing for a week, the day after you saw Jacaerys you had met with a witch to make a drink to die peacefully.

With holes in your body, like the hole of your chest you refused to live further with, you laid at peace knowing that perhaps in another universe like the stories in the library, you had found a forever with the prince.

There Jacaerys stood years later, now with a crown on his head. Life without you was hard, but he pushed beyond the pain he felt every single passing moon. He knew you would have wanted him to live. So he did, he lived and began his rule. Jacaerys the Gentle, the Wise. The kingdom never saw their king with a smile, and stories will tell of the tale of doomed lovers and the Queen who could have been.

Vermax stood by his rider, growling in pain. He too missed your presence. Jacaerys stood quietly, his face now older, the age of two and nine now making its way to his once youthful features. A tear fell upon his stoic face, he smiled as he saw a shooting star flash across the skies.

He vowed, knowing you could hear him. He believed it. He knew that every brush of wind that made itself known, was you. He knew that every time he flew across the skies, and he saw the skies filled with stars, was you.

"If the Gods have her, or to whom, protects her until we meet again. Please tell her, that when the sun goes down, I think of her. Please tell her, that I never once forgot the sound of her voice calling my name." He choked in his begging, "Please. To whoever has her, please let her know that she lives in my heart and that everywhere I go I will always, forever see her face."

A flower was left in the spot you were found years ago. As King Jacaerys Targaryen flew away, he softly reminded the wide skies that carried a love, "I love you, always and forever, till we meet again my love."

TAGLISTS:

jace nation (open): @thenotesapppoet @agqrtz @girlthatislost @writtenapoiogy @vividxpages @smurfelle @number-0-iz @star611 @intheheartoftheking @nixtape-foryou @velaryonbastard @still-jon-snow @ethereal-athalia natties angel list (open): @aemondvelaryon @peri4stral @yohanseyebrowmole mooties, slut cult: @cregnstark @divinesolas @hxtd @benjinotes @bucksplum @eldrith @princessbellecerise @xxselenite @bryscorner @vee-mage @v3lary0ns @swordgrace @housetargaryenloyalist @astrxq @manhandlememando

[levis-poison-is-my-medicine]

Little Treats

(The Tea Lovers Pt. 5)

A Levi x reader fanfic

Crossposted from AO3

A/n: This update is a bit longer again, I hope you like it <3

tags: fluff and humor, silly and sweet, tea-obsessed fem!reader with their head in the clouds (word count: 2.95k)

(Part one) / (Levi x reader Masterlist)

Levi strode to your room without hesitation. His mind was filled with dread at the thought of all the creatively disturbing ways you might have drawn him.

The last one had been traumatizing enough, and you had drawn that as a sample for him. These, you had attempted to keep from him. There was no telling how deranged they would be. The thought made his steps quicken with urgency. He would make you hand them over. Better yet, he would make you burn them all.

He reached your door and knocked. There was no answer. Frowning, he knocked harder, calling your name.

The door opened just a crack. A face appeared, peering suspiciously out into the hallway. Her eyes widened in recognition when they met his.

"Captain Levi? Is that you?"

The door swung open completely, revealing a woman in a dressing gown squinting up at him in the dim light of the hallway. It was Nifa, one of your roommates. The room behind her was dark. "What's wrong?"

Only then did he realize what time it was. He scowled, cursing you under his breath while trying to think up an excuse to get out of this situation.

The young scout in front of him flinched. "I'm going to get her. Just a moment, please." Before he could protest, Nifa was gone again. He blew out a breath, defeated.

It took quite some time until you stumbled into the hallway, pushed by two other scouts. They immediately closed the door behind you to prevent you from going back inside.

"No fair", you mumbled, sleepily fumbling with the door handle. When the door didn't budge, you leaned on it instead, resting your head against the door frame. Your eyes were still closed.

Levi watched as you slowly slid down against the door. He cleared his throat. You didn't react, continuing your journey toward the floor. He sighed and took a step forward to wrap an arm around your waist, preventing you from falling.

Your head fell forward against his shoulder. "Hmm..." You sagged against him with a satisfied hum. "Bed," you murmured into his shirt.

"No," Levi said.

You muttered something unintelligible, muffled by the fabric. Then you snaked an arm around him, pulling him even closer. Levi stood very still. He had never been this close to you before. Your body was soft and still warm from sleep.

You sighed softly into his shoulder.

"Stop it. You're drooling."

"… Levi?" Your voice was a raspy whisper. You looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, like you had only just noticed he was there. "Is it time for tea?"

"No. Go back to bed."

"Okay." Your body grew limb again. Levi sighed.

He carefully removed the arm you had wrapped around him and pulled away from you, steadying you with one hand and knocking with the other. The door opened instantly to the two women from earlier. He recognized them from Mike's squad, but couldn't recall their names. They shot him a long and curious glance. He could see Nifa standing behind them, barely visible in the darkness of the room.

"Go back inside," Levi told you and gave you a small push in the right direction. You plodded over to the women, who steered you back to your bed.

"Good night", he muttered before swiftly walking away.

– –

You woke up from someone shaking you by the shoulders. It was your roommate Nanaba.

"Just five more minutes", you mumbled, trying to free yourself from her grip.

"You wish! You already slept through your alarm. Again, might I add."

You grumbled something incomprehensible in return, refusing to open your eyes.

Nanaba let go of you. "Like I thought. It's one of those days. That leaves us with only one option." She turned to the woman beside her. "Lynne, is it ready?"

Lynne nodded and handed her a cup filled with a steaming, dark liquid. Nanaba brought it up to your nose, using her free hand to fan the steam into your nostrils.

You perked up immediately, snatching the cup from her to take a sip. "For me?" you asked only after you had already entirely downed its scalding hot content. "You shouldn't have. In bed? What a service. That's so nice of you." Usually you were the one to prepare the tea in the morning. Your definition of morning, anyway, since you always set your alarm to the latest possible time.

"It's fine," Nanaba said with a wave of her hand. "I think we can all use some help getting up today."

"I still can't believe how Captain Levi woke us all up yesterday night." Lynne yawned. "Took me so long to fall asleep again after that."

Nifa turned to you. "Yeah, what did he want? He seemed kind of angry."

"Beats me. I must've slept through it." You stretched.

"Um, no you didn't. You talked to him. "

"I did? Huh." You scratched your head. "Are you sure? Cause I can't remember."

"Yeah I'm sure. I was the one who had to drag you out of your bed for it."

"Huh."

"I really thought it must be an emergency, but he only ended up talking to you for like, two minutes or something. And you went right back to sleep, after it, too."

"Okay…?" Now your curiosity was piqued. "I wonder what it was about…I better go and ask him!"

You jumped out of bed and headed for the door.

Nanaba caught you by the hem of your pyjama shirt. "Maybe get dressed first?"

You stopped and looked down at yourself. "Oh. Yeah, I probably should," you admitted sheepishly.

"Though it's not like he hasn't seen her like that before," Nifa giggled.

"True," you said. "Still, I should look proper. I've got to train the new cadets later today." You put on your scout's uniform.

"Of course you should look proper. You're on your way to meet Captain Levi," Lynne said, also giggling.

"Yeah? What about it. I see him every day," you said, not understanding what all the fuss was about.

"You do?" Lynne sounded doubtful.

"Of course, for tea time."

"Are you saying…that you have tea with him every day?"

"Yep." You buttoned up your shirt.

"What?? Since when? How have you never mentioned that before?" Lynne's eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets.

You shrugged. "Since sometime after my birthday, I think? I guess it just didn't come up."

"You gotta be kidding," Nifa said.

"I'm not. This is tea we're talking about," you said with a solemn expression.

"This is Levi we're talking about!" Lynne all but shouted.

"Yes, and...?" you asked, a bit confused.

"And you should have told us about it!" Lynne exclaimed.

"You were the one who told me to stop talking about tea all the time…" you muttered, pouting. "How is this different?"

"It is completely different," Lynne said in exasperation.

"It's not."

"It is, too."

"More importantly," Nifa said, interrupting your bickering, "Do you really plan on meeting him this way?" She gestured at your shirt.

"Sure, why wouldn't I?" You were growing more confused by the second. They didn't usually comment on your clothing.

"There's a stain on your uniform."

You bent your chin down to get a better look at it. "Oh, that. I got some tea on it while I was folding the laundry. I swear it's a fresh shirt." You rubbed at it with your thumb.

Nifa shook her head. "That won't do at all. Here, take one of mine." She handed you a neatly folded shirt out of the dresser.

"Thanks," you said, a bit surprised by their unusual behavior. "Though I don't think it's necessary…"

"Nonsense. You know how Captain Levi can get."

"Fine, if you insist." You put on the new shirt. "I still think you're overreacting."

"They definitely are," Nanaba piped up. "I don't understand them either. But then again, we should be used to it by now. They always get this way when it comes to him." She smirked.

"Shut up," Lynne said. "We are being perfectly reasonable. Just because you have a weird taste in men doesn't mean–"

"My taste is perfectly fine," Nanaba cut in. "Just because I prefer taller men–"

"The problem isn't that he's tall, it's that he's weird. The way he sniffs everything like a dog–"

"Take that back right now! How can you talk like that about our superior! Just because he has a good nose–"

"Aaand they're at it again. This could take a while. It's their classic Mike vs. Levi debate. You should go before they drag you into this," Nifa told you in a low voice.

You chuckled. "Yep, I better run."

– –

For once you actually remembered to knock on his office door, but you still tore it open without waiting for an answer.

"Good morning! I hope you don't mind the intrusion so early." It wasn't even that early anymore.

Levi looked up from his work with a disgruntled look on his face, making it clear that he, in fact, did mind the intrusion. You took no notice, plopping down on the chair opposite him with a cheerful smile.

"So, about last night…" you started, making his eyes snap to yours. "This is a bit embarrassing," you continued, oblivious to the way his gaze seared into your face. "But I don't actually remember what you said to me. You did talk to me, right? My roommates told me you came by, and I know it was probably very important, but I don't remember a thing. I'm sorry. I must have still been half-asleep or something."

"More than half," Levi muttered. He was looking down at his desk, his expression flat.

"I'm sorry?" you asked.

He didn't answer. You looked at him curiously.

"Soo, what was it about? I'm sorry I forgot. Please just tell me again, I swear I will remember it this time."

"The same way you remembered my order?" His tone was sharp.

You stared at him blankly. "What order?"

"The drawings of me. I know that you still have some. Where–"

"Ahh I just remembered I have something very important to do. So sorry. I will see you later." You got up very quickly, almost knocking over the chair.

Levi also stood up. "And what would that important thing be?" he asked coolly. Before you knew it, he was between you and the door. Damn, he really was fast.

"You know…Erwin asked me to help him with his paperwork. And then I also promised Hange to clean the lab with them. And that's all on top of my usual duties, like training the new cadets this afternoon. So you see, I am very busy."

You gave him an apologetic smile while you inched towards the door. If you made a dash for it, maybe you would be able to make it.

"So I take it you will be too busy for teatime today, too?"

You gasped. "Not that busy."

"That's what I thought. I am sure Erwin will understand if you start a little later then. Why don't we ask him right now?"

Levi walked to the door. You scrambled after him. "That won't be necessary…"

He didn't listen, already marching to Erwin's office. By the time you got there, he was knocking on his door.

"Come in," the commander said.

"Erwin", Levi said, staying in the doorway, "Do you mind if I borrow her for 10 minutes before she helps you with your pesky paperwork?"

Erwin looked up at him with knitted brows. "I'm sorry, who are you talking about?"

You squeezed past Levi. "Me. I promised I would help you with your paperwork, remember?" You gave him a pointed look.

He raised his eyebrows in response. "All of it," you said motioning at the stacks of papers which took up most of his desk.

"Ah, yes. That's very nice of you," Erwin said slowly, still looking at you with a puzzled expression. You nodded furiously.

"I should begin right away." You started for his desk, rolling up your sleeves.

"There is no need. Didn't Levi need you for something first?"

Shoot.

"That's right," Levi said.

You shot him a dirty look, but you had no choice but to follow him out of Erwin's office.

"And did you say Hange–"

"Fine. I do have some drawings of you," you begrudgingly conceded, before he could make you go to Hange, too. "But I swear I had them for a while. You see, they are simply remnants of stock from before you ordered me not to do them anymore. What was I supposed to do with them?" You looked at him with big, pleading eyes.

"Hand them over."

"But Levi–"

"Hand them over." He was scowling.

You exhaled loudly, accepting your fate. "Fine. They're in my room."

"Let's go to your room, then."

You trudged after him as he made his way down the stairs. This was bad. Really bad. The shirtless-drawings-of-Levi type of bad.

You reached your room before you were able to come up with a solution. Levi stood in front of the door with his arms crossed. He was looking at you expectantly.

"Before you see them, you should know that all of these were commissions. Someone described to me very clearly what they had in mind, I simply helped them put it to paper. So in a way I was but a mere tool to help them get the message across, you know? And you know how they say: don't shoot the messenger."

You laughed nervously, but it didn't look good for you. Your rambling had only made the frown on his face deepen further.

You let out a big sigh. "Okay," you said as you opened the door with sweaty palms. You entered with Levi close behind you.

"Fine! Maybe Mike is only humanity's second strongest soldier, but he is by far the hottest! I would choose him over Levi any day!" Nanaba was shouting at Lynne.

"Um, guys?" you said. They turned to you. Nanaba went pale. Lynne went red. Neither of them said another word. Silence enveloped the room, broken only by the sound of the door falling shut behind you.

"I should really learn how to knock, huh."

The two women just stared at you, aghast. Nifa was nowhere to be seen. You glanced at Levi, who stood next you with an unreadable expression.

"Don't mind me and Levi here. We'll just be a second," you continued, walking over to your bed and throwing your pillow and blanket onto the floor.

Now it wasn't just the women who were dumbfounded.

You flipped over your mattress. "I know it's a lame hiding place," you said as you retrieved a brown paper envelope.

You opened it, pulling out a few sheets of paper, and started flipping through them. You grimaced. It was worse than you had remembered. Levi didn't wear a shirt in any of them.

When you got to the last one, you froze. "Fuck," you muttered under your breath. It was a piece you had planned to give Petra for her birthday as a surprise. Of all the drawings in the envelope, it was by far the tamest. Yet it was the only one you just couldn't allow him to see.

Your eyes shifted to Levi. He was looking at you with hawk eyes. There was no way you would be able to make it disappear unnoticed.

You separated the drawing from the rest and slipped the others back into the envelope, letting them stick out enough that his face was visible on the first one. "Here you go," you said and held it out to him.

"What about that one?" He pointed at the piece of paper you still had in your hands.

"That one's not of you," you said, pressing it to your chest protectively, with its blank backside facing in his direction.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Show it to me."

"No."

He stretched out his hand. You backed away. "I'm allowed to have my privacy."

Levi huffed. He was coming closer. This left you with no choice.

You scrunched up the paper into a tiny ball and shoved it into your mouth. It tasted awful. You chewed on it frantically.

"What the hell?" Levi glared at you. "Spit it out."

You swallowed. "Too late. Unless you want me to throw it up for you?"

He scoffed.

It was such a shame about the drawing, though. You had put in a lot of time and effort. But there was nothing you could have done: the drawing hadn't just depicted Levi. Petra had been on it, too, standing really close to him, holding his hand. It was fine if he got mad at you, but you didn't want him to get mad at her. It would break her heart. You couldn't let that happen. So you had done what you had to.

You looked over to your roommates. Lynne was covering her mouth in shock. Nanaba was trying her best to hold in a laugh.

"What? I was hungry. I didn't have breakfast yet."

"Help yourself, there's plenty more where that came from," Levi deadpanned, holding out the envelope.

"No thanks. These are nice little treats, but they're not the healthiest."

"Nice little treats, you say?" He pulled out the topmost drawing from the envelope. His deadpan expression slipped, eyes widening in shock. You covered your eyes with your fingers. When you warily peeked through them, he was already glowering at you, wearing the worst scowl you had ever seen on him.

"Into my office. Now."

You sighed. Here we go again.

Tag list: @thechaoticarchivist, @mmm-alhaitham, @nironasaran, @leviiheichou, @huffleruffplant, @shutupp1, @iifrui , @shakysif

[harvestmount]

THIS CHAPTER 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

the whole moment of mase and gee alone together was so heartwarming, and when she called him Dada and he ended up poured his feelings to her, it broke my heart but y/n pretending to not heard it hurt even more like girl cmon can you see how perfect he is, how he always there for you and bubba

I FEEL SO BAD FOR MASON WHEN SHE CHANGED HER DRESS.... IT'S A BIT RUDE OF HER, HE LITERALLY SAID THAT IT'S HIS FAVORITE DRESS BUT SHE CHANGED IT UGH Y/N IDK WHAT TO SAY ANYMORE GIRL 😓 i'm upset

IM SORRY GIRLY I KNOW YOU'RE PANIC BUT YOU HAVE TO STOP ACTING LIKE THAT 😓😓 he gave bubba a calpol you should be thankful

what make me sad is the fact that mason has always been so calm and understanding when she strops, even forgive her after she blowing up at him. but i really hope he's true with his feelings and told her like i know he's also upset or sad when she acts like that

HE PICKED THEM UP AT 3 AM GIRLLL IF YOU'RE NOT GOING TO MARRY HIM THEN I WILL 😩😩

that part when she found out about Jack proposed to someone else was so sad like I'm about to be sympathetic to her but she was mad at mason like why are you mad??? i don't understand 😓😓😓 like please understands him a little bit

i cant wait to read the next chapter 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 and see her character development because she can't keep acting like that 😭😭

LOZZZ i don't know how many times i took a break because my jaw dropped everytime, girly should stop getting mad at him and start loving him instead 😂

this chapter was so frustrating but i loved it!!!! i have no words, this was perfectttt loz you can't stop surprising me with your writing can you???

Change Of Heart

The Middle - Part Four

Note - coming at you a day early, so I hope that’s okay 😂 this chapter is a ride and I pray you won’t be too hard on our girly. She’s been through a lot and has a lot of emotions and also people aren’t angles 100% of the time (unless your name is Mason) so it’s normal for someone to have a strop. Sorry I really feel like I’m explaining myself here but I’m just scared you’ll hate her. This chapter also involves a song and I’ve added a thing so you can listen along to the version I was thinking about 🥰 LOVE YOU GUYS FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED AS ALWAYS 🩷😘

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 6.6K

Warnings - series contains angst & fluff

They say you always hurt the ones you love, and even though you never meant to hurt Mason, there always seemed to be moments over the years when you’d take your moods out on him.

You knew he was upset, but he always took it in his stride and let you have your strop before accepting your apology straight away no matter how much you didn’t deserve it. Not wanting to be moody with each other now you didn’t see each other as much but after you’d calmed down it didn’t make you feel any less guilty.

Moving to Manchester was everything you thought it would be and more.

Now you’d been promoted you could afford your own house up here and you made sure it had enough bedrooms so there was a spare for when Mason or your family wanted to visit and you felt incredible that you could provide for yourself and Gee all on your own.

Mason helped you move and unpack but he couldn’t stay more than one night as he had to go back to London and back to training but you were grateful for his help nonetheless and happy that he was finally onboard with such a big change.

It was the perfect fresh start, and you knew no one here so you made sure you made a few connections by joining a mummy and baby group in hopes of making some mum friends and on the first day you met Ell. It was her first day with baby Tommy and by the end of the hour you were becoming fast friends. Ell having lived in the area her whole life and she promised to take you under her wing and be there for you. Even skipping the class sometimes so you could take the babies out for lunch and have a gossip.

You saw and spoke to Mason as much as you could but you knew things had changed. FaceTime wasn’t the same as seeing him in person but the season was soon ending and you’d even managed to make it back down for his last game of the season. Watching on proudly as he picked up his second player of the season award and you knew it had meant a lot to him for you to be there.

It was the least you could do, Mason always sacrificing himself for you and you knew you weren’t always the best to him. Blaming your bad moods on being tired due to work and the stress of raising a child on your own in a place where you hardly knew anyone but Mason always took you as you came just like he had your whole life.

You loved your life up in Manchester though. Quiet nights spent with just you and Gee cuddled on the sofa as you told her how long you’d waited for her to come and everything you wanted to do together. Watching her grow and learn new things everyday as you learnt more about yourself in the process and when she wasn’t in your arms you didn’t feel whole.

You had been living in your house for around three months when Mason first came to stay for a few nights. It was a bit last minute and you had made plans to go out with your new work colleagues to get to know them a bit better but Mason assured you it was fine and that he would stay with Gee that night rather than her usual babysitter.

Gee was around ten months old now and Mason couldn’t believe how much she’d changed since he last saw her. His eyes filling up as he held her to his chest and you melted at the way she clung to him. Even though they didn’t get to see each other too often it was so lovely to see how strong their bond was. Mason eventually pulling you into his arms so you could all cuddle together by the front door and you didn’t miss the way your shoulders relaxed at his touch. Trying your hardest to not bury your face into his shoulder as you’d missed him so much but you pulled back and smiled at him sweetly.

‘Go sit, I’ll grab you a drink’ you told him and him and with a quick kiss to your cheek he made his way into the living room whilst you headed just down the hall to the kitchen to flick the kettle on.

You could hear Mason from the kitchen, letting Gee babble away at him as he tried to respond back to her with the noises she’d just made and as the kettle boiled, you popped your head around the corner so you could watch them. Masons back to you so he had no idea you were listening in but he was sat with Gee practically on his chest and you smiled softly at them as they made silly faces at each other.

You loved getting to see them bond, knowing how much Gee loved Mason already even though you didn’t get to see him as much, but soon enough her incoherent mumbles turned into actual words.

‘Dada’

‘Oh… oh no I’m not your dada baby’ he whispered, his voice sounding sad and your heart broke a tiny bit. Mason was more of a dad to Gee than anyone and the feeling of her not having that vital person in her life for her early years upset you more than you thought it would, but it was no match for the words that were about to come out of Mason's mouth. ‘I wish I was though, Gee. I’d do anything for you, you know that right?’ He whispered. ‘And I love your mummy so so much. More than I could ever tell you… or her. Trust me, I tried once and it did not go well’ he laughed.

You felt overwhelmed, stood in shock as you watched him confess his feelings for you to your baby in a soft voice so you didn’t hear but he clearly had no idea you could hear every word as he carried on talking. ‘It hurts you know? Knowing your person doesn’t quite see you as theirs but it’s okay. I’ve learnt to let her go and let her be happy, even if it’s not because of me. She’ll find her person one day and maybe I can learn to love someone like I love her. Like give someone else what I’ve always wanted to give her. I think I’d make a pretty good boyfriend if I let myself be one. And I think I’d make a good dad too, like I’m not that bad am I?’ He asked her and the excited yelp that left her little mouth made you smile even though your heart was breaking.

‘Thanks Gee, you always know what to say’ he laughed. ‘Who knows, maybe I can give you some cousins one day?’

He still loves me. After all this time he still loves me.

You’d always had a feeling Mason still liked you more than he should, but hearing him say it again to your little girl hurt. The fact that he was keeping it under wraps still gave you mixed feelings but clearly he didn’t want you to know as he was dealing with it in his own way so you figured you’d let him carry on.

You loved Mason, you just weren’t in love with him. If there was a way you could have flicked a switch to turn those feelings on then you’d do it in a heartbeat but all you knew right now was that you had to pretend like you hadn’t heard anything for the sake of your friendship. Knowing he’d leave if he knew you knew and you liked things exactly as they were.

You shook it off and made him his coffee just how he liked it. Carrying it into him quietly and when he smiled up at you in thanks you knew he didn’t know you’d overheard. Carry on talking to you without a care in the world as he played with Gee. You felt awkward though, no knowing what to say to him as a feeling of guilt settled into your tummy.

‘I need to go get ready’ you told him eventually. Making your way upstairs so you could start doing your hair and applying your makeup away from his big brown eyes and silly dimples but you were still thinking about what he’d said to Gee. The way he was still in love with you but just carried on and hid it like he was doing made you feel so confused

You were halfway through doing your makeup when you heard him walking up the stairs, his voice low as he told Gee he’d find you for her and after a quick knock at your door you let him know it was safe to come in.

‘See Gee, I told you she was here’ he cooed as he rounded the corner into your room and you sent her a smile as she looked your way. ‘Sorry, she didn’t believe me when I told her you were up here’ he laughed and you could see Gee sending you a huge smile back now.

‘That’s okay’

‘Are you alright?’ He asked as he took a seat on the edge of your bed but you just nodded your head. Still unsure as to what you should say to him. ‘You sure? You seem quiet’

‘I’m fine, just nervous. You know what I’m like with big groups of people’ you half lied but you could see him nodding away behind you in the mirror.

‘You’ll be fine, I promise’ he smiled before his eyes were flickering around your room. ‘Are you gonna wear that dress? He quizzed, nodding over to the one you’d hung up on the outside of your wardrobe and you nodded in response. ‘That's always been my favourite on you’ he beamed and you felt your tummy drop at his comment.

He let you get ready a little while after. Taking Gee downstairs so he could pop on the dancing fruit video she seemed to love so much to keep her entertained but when you came back down ready to leave you could see the disappointment and confusion all over his face that you’d chosen something different to wear.

Mason still showered you with compliments and helped you put on your necklace. His face beaming at the fact you still wore his gift after all these years but little did he know you felt lost without it.

Ever since he’d given it to you that fateful night you very rarely took it off as you felt like he was always with you when you had it on and even though things may have taken a weird little turn tonight there was no way you were leaving the house without it.

After a long goodbye with Gee you managed to make it out the door. Hopping in a taxi to take you to a restaurant nearby and as soon as you were inside your worries disappeared. You loved your new team and there were only around six of you so you were able to chat with all of them with no one feeling left out and really connect in a way you can’t do everyday in the office.

You checked your phone periodically but nothing had come through from Mason so you just figured the pair of them were having a lovely time and focused on getting to know your new colleagues.

You’d just finished up dessert when you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket. Quickly reaching for it to see Mason's face filling up the screen so you excused yourself just off to the side so you could answer.

‘Mase, everything alright?’ You asked, thinking he was just updating you quickly but the beat of silence on his end made your tummy drop.

‘Hey, yeah no listen. It’s Gee. She’s been all grizzly since you left and I thought it was just her being moody but she’s had a temperature all night and-‘

‘She what? A temperature? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?’ you asked. Your tone sounding panicked as your tummy dropped and the thought of Gee being unwell and needing you while you were out.

‘Well I didn’t wanna ruin your night out and I thought she’d be fine but she’s getting really upset and-‘

‘I’m coming back’ you told him. Hanging up the phone so he didn’t have a chance to answer before grabbing your things and making a swift exit. You didn’t want to cause a fuss so you quietly let your assistant know and slipped away before anyone could say anything before making your way back home ready to tear Mason a new one.

When you first walked in, the sight you were met with would have usually warmed your heart. Gee laid on Mason's chest with her head smooshed into his neck as he rubbed her back but you could see her eyes were red from crying and her little nose looked flushed.

Mason on the other hand looked frozen in fear. Looking up at you like he’s was scared you were about to rip his head off but you paid him no mind. Slipping your jacket off before storming over so you could gently lift Gee from him. Thankfully Mason didn’t put up a fight but your plan to just completely ignore him and go upstairs was thwarted when he began to speak as you turned to leave.

‘I gave her some calpol about half an hour ago, it’s taken her temperature down a bit but she might-‘

‘I don’t need you to tell me how to look after my baby’ you snapped. Turning to face him and if you weren’t so furious and worried you might have felt bad for how you’d spoken to him. ‘I told you to call me if someone was wrong so why didn’t you?’

‘Cause I-‘

‘No Mason! There’s no excuse’ you cried but your loud voice had stirred Gee awake and her bleary eyes were right on Mason.

‘Come on Gee, let’s go to bed. We can cuddle for a little bit, okay?’ You whispered, walking straight towards the door but her tiny hands Were grabbing straight for the boy you furious with.

‘Dada’

‘No, Uncle Masons going to his room’ you told her. Loud enough so Mason could hear and as soon as he was out of Gee’s sight she began to cry hysterically. ‘Come on Gee, it’s okay. Mummy’s here now’ you told her trying to do anything you could to soothe her but nothing was working.

Guilt flooded you for the second time that day but now it was for a different reason. You were still feeling a little awkward about earlier and knew you shouldn’t have snapped like you did as he was just trying his best, but the idea of Gee being sick scared you and Mason was the only one around to take it out on.

You figured she was crying just because she felt so sick but when Mason appeared in your doorway around ten minutes later, the two of you looked up and over to him and only then she began to calm down as she reached for him. It was at that moment you realised she was upset because she thought Mason had left her.

He didn’t say a word, just came and sat in front of you so he could hold Gee’s hand and her sobs disappeared almost immediately. His big brown eyes flashing to yours but they were back on Gee almost instantly as a look of worry washed over him.

‘Lay down, I think it’s best you stay here. She won’t stop crying otherwise’ you told him quietly but he seemed hesitant.

‘Oh I-‘

‘Just do it… please’ you told him softly. ‘I need to get ready for bed and I’ll be back’ you gulped and with that you grabbed your things and went to the bathroom. Not taking too long to get changed and take your makeup off before you were rushing back to them. Gee now wide awake and looking up at Mason as he tried his best to make her smile but you noticed he toned it down as soon as you were back. Laying her on the bed in the middle of the pair of you so you could both look at her but you kept silent as you watched her giggle at Masons silly faces.

‘Why does she keep touching your lips?’ You asked quietly after a while. Not missing the way her little chubby fingers were repeatedly reaching up for his mouth and you noticed his cheeks turn pink as he tried not to smile.

‘I think she wants me to sing her our song’

‘Your song?’

‘Yeah, whenever I put her down for naps or to sleep I always sing to her. I’ve been singing to her a lot tonight to try and cheer her up’ He giggled nervously and you felt your heart melt for him just that little bit more.

‘You never sing for me’

‘That’s cause you said my voice sound like nails in a blender’ he joked, his eyes flashing up to yours but he clearly didn’t know where he stood still so he was quick to look away.

‘Well even so, Gee obviously likes it. You should sing to her now. It might help her sleep’

‘I don’t know…’

‘Come on, she’s practically begging you’ you encouraged and you knew you were breaking him down.

‘Well I can’t do it with you watching me’ he laughed, embarrassment written all over his face so you did the only thing you could think of and rolled over to your other side so you were facing away from the pair of them and the sound of his little laugh before he cleared his throat made you smile.

‘I would take the stars out of the sky for you

Stop the rain from falling if you asked me to’

You knew the song immediately. One of your mum’s favourites that she would listen to at home but listening to Mason sing it so softly to your baby gave the lyrics a whole new meaning and you felt every hair on your body standing up as you listened on.

‘I'd do anything for you, your wish is my command

I could move a mountain when your hand is in my hand’

You could hear the smile in his voice, and hear the laugh coming from Gee as she listened to him. Your eyes filling up almost instantly as he sounded so sincere and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have a friend like Mason who gave his all for a child that wasn’t even his.

‘Words cannot express how much you mean to me

There must be some other way to make you see

If it takes my heart and soul, you know I'd pay the price

Everything that I possess I'd gladly sacrifice’

You knew he meant every word he was singing just by the tone of his voice and as the song took on a whole new meaning to you, you felt your eyes spillover as you heard your baby giggling.

‘Oh, you to me are everything

The sweetest song that I could sing

Oh, baby, oh, baby’

You couldn’t take it anymore. Turning round to look at him and his eyes flashed to yours immediately. The bridge of his nose a deep red still as he was clearly a little embarrassed you’d heard him sing but to you it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard.

‘I’m sorry Mase’ you whispered. ‘I didn’t mean to have a go earlier, I was just worried’ you told him. Eyes filling with tears again as you took in his guilty face but soon enough his own face looked just as miserable as you felt.

‘I know love, it’s okay’

‘No it’s not. I was awful to you when all you’ve ever done is look after us. You know I trust you with Gee 100% and I’m sorry if I made you feel at different’ you gulped. ‘I see it every day how much you love her and we really don’t deserve you’

‘Y/n, it’s fine. I should have told you earlier I just wanted you to have a good night and I thought I could do it’

‘You did though Mase. You did everything right, see?’ You smiled. Motioning down to Gee who was laying there as happy as Larry but you could tell from the yawns she was ready for sleep. ‘She just needed a little bit more time for the medicine to kick in but she’s alright’

‘I was just worried’ he told you. His bottom lip wobbling and it really hit you how much this whole evening had upset him.

‘I know you were’ you sighed. Picking up a now barely awake Gee so you could place her in her crib next to you before turning back to Mason with your arms open for him. ‘Come here’

He didn’t need to be told twice. Shuffling over and laying his head on your chest so you could hold him while stroking his hair and you felt him deflate in your arms.

‘I really am sorry, Mason’ you whispered in his ear. ‘I was just worried too but I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that’

‘I know you were. That’s why I didn’t want to call you, which I know is stupid’ he sighed. ‘Are we okay? I feel like you’ve been avoiding me all day’

You felt even worse now knowing he’d picked up on your mood but there was no way you were telling him how you’d overheard him earlier so you just nodded your head. Wracking your brain for some sort of excuse to tell him but you were coming up short.

‘We’re okay, Mase. I’m really sorry for how I’ve acted today I’ve just been a bit stressed lately but it’s not your fault’

‘Okay’ he whispered. Kissing just over your heart as that was the only place he could reach and you felt your heart flutter at his softness and the love you felt for your best friend. ‘Gimme five minutes and I’ll go back to my room’

‘Don’t go, I’m comfy’ you whispered. Hearing him chuckle as he held you tighter but soon enough he was getting heavy and you knew he’d fallen asleep.

You didn’t have big arguments, but when you fell out it was usually your fault. But Mason being Mason always forgave you even when you didn’t feel like you deserved it.

You did your best to forget about Mason's confession and as the months passed you managed to get back into your normal routine with him. You and Gee still cheering him on from the sidelines but this season was turning out to be even weirder than the last.

The season wasnt over yet but it had been really tough for Mason. Ever since the World Cup he’d been carrying an injury and a few weeks ago he’d finally had surgery to correct the issue. He hadn’t played in a really long time and since he had a week in between recovery sessions he’d made the choice to come up and see you both.

It was perfect timing really since Ell had taken you away for a few days to her husband Noah’s families house in the south of France and the five of you had had the best time. Sending Mason Cute snaps of the kids on the beach but all he did was warn you to keep them apart as Gee was too young for a boyfriend.

y/n

liked by masonmount, ell_197, lukeshaw23 and others

y/n our first little holiday 🥺🩷 wouldn’t be the same without our besties. Thank you for inviting us into your home and making us feel like family 🥰 forever grateful for your kindness

masonmount my girls ❤️ cant wait to see you all

y/n we’ve missed you so much masey!!!

ell_197 the best trip 😘 I’m planning the next one as we speak

y/n so thankful for you 🩷 we had the best time ever and I loved watching our babies have fun together 😩

masonmount she’s not allowed a boyfriend

ell_197 who? 🤣

masonmount both of them 😌

Mummy_y/n wish we were with you both 😍

y/n us too 🥺 but we’ll see you real soon

Mason being free meant he was able to pick you up from the airport and at 3am your heart stuttered as Gee ran as fast as her little legs could take her into Mason’s waiting arms before he squeezed her like he never wanted to let go. Only opening his arm when you came close so he could pull you in too and the feeling of home flooded you.

This was the first time Mason had met Ell and her family and they seemed just as enamoured by him as Gee was. Noah admitting he was a big fan and was trying his hardest to get him to come and play for Man United. Mason just smiled and laughed like he usually did when someone said the same but you could see there was something else behind it this time.

You were home soon enough though. Popping Gee in her room so she could sleep before making your way back to the living room. You still felt wide awake and Mason had offered to make you a tea and to maybe watch a film as he wasn’t tired either due to his nap earlier, so you got yourself settled and began absentmindedly scrolling through your phone.

There was a reason you never went on Facebook and right now was a perfect reminder as to why.

Facebook was full of updates from people you hadn’t spoken to in years or elderly family members posting badly taken selfies and stupid opinions but after an email popped up saying a girl you hadn’t heard of in years had posted a picture your curiosity got the better of you and you clicked on the link.

It was from there you went on a downward spiral. Mindlessly scrolling through your feed as you became reacquainted with people you hadn’t thought of in years. Wondering why half of these people even still used this god forsaken app until you came to a past that made you stop in your tracks.

‘I don’t think I’ve done the popcorn right’ Mason suddenly bellowed through the halls and as his voice got closer you sat yourself up on your sofa and tried to look like you hadn’t just had the biggest shock of your life.

‘I mean how difficult is it to microwave a bag?’ He carried on. ‘I didn’t think it would be that hard but I shook it and there’s still loads of kernels in there’ he complained. Finally flopping down next to you and you knew once he cast his eyes in your direction it was over for you. ‘Hey, y/n what’s wrong?’

How were you even supposed to explain your way out of this one? Mason was your best friend and knew you inside out so there was no lying to him but you weren’t sure you could get the words out to tell him exactly.

‘It’s Jack’ you sighed. His name leaving a sour taste on your tongue and you knew as soon as Mason stiffened besides you were in for a barrage of questions.

‘Jack? What? has he tried to talk to you or something?’

‘No no, I was just on Facebook and I must have forgotten to block him on there since I never use it and a post from him came up’

‘Oh okay, I get it must be tough to see his face again’

‘It’s not just that’ you sighed. Passing him your phone with a shaking hand to show him the picture and you didn’t even need to look at him to know he was shocked by what he saw.

You didn’t even know Jack was dating again, let alone be ready to propose to someone and the fact you could tell exactly where it was made it hurt even more. The place you’d planned on visiting once you’d both saved up enough to live out your big dream and looking at him living it without you felt suffocating. Like the elephant from the picture was sat on your chest so it could crush you until you never breathed again and all you wanted was to flee the scene and scream your lungs out.

‘Oh love, I’m so sorry’

‘It’s fine, you didn’t do anything’ you shrugged, taking your phone back from him before locking it and you couldn’t decide if you wanted to talk about it or not. Thankfully Mason made that decision for you and started going off about him and how he was never right for you in hopes it would make you feel better and you couldn’t deny shit talking about him for a bit made you smile a tiny bit.

‘You know I never liked him’ Mason told you after his big rant and when he took your hand in his he squeezed it tightly.

‘I know’ you laughed ‘I don’t care for him too much either’

‘What’s got you all upset then?’ He asked. Pulling you into his side a bit further and you rested your head on his shoulder so you could talk without looking at him.

‘I don’t even know’ you shrugged. ‘Its just weird to see I guess. Makes me feel like there’s something wrong with me’

‘There’s nothing wrong with you at all’

‘But if he can do it for her, like grow up and be a proper man then why couldn’t he do that for me?’

‘Because he wasn't meant for you’

‘Who is meant for me then huh? Cause they’re taking their bloody sweet time getting here’ you laughed but there was no humour in it.

I’m meant for you Mason thought. But he kept his lips zipped as he just wanted to be there for you.

The more you thought about him the angrier and more upset you became. Tears eventually spilling over onto your cheeks and there was no way you could hide them from Mason.

‘I know you didn’t like him, but he was the first boy I really loved, you know?’ You croaked. Looking up to Mason for a bit of sympathy and thankfully he was giving you just that. ‘The first one who told me they saw a future with me and mapped it out for us. Who wasn’t afraid to show me off even on my bad days and yeah it sucked the way it ended but we were happy once’

‘I know you were. And I know it’s cheesy but if you can be happy with him then imagine how happy you could be with me’

‘Wait… with you?’ You questioned. Mason's face paling as he realised what he’d said. A slip of the tongue that he was meant to keep inside but now it was out in the open and you could tell he was flustered.

‘Oh uh, no I didn’t meant me I um, I meant like-‘

‘No… you said you. You meant you’ you pressed, wanting him to just come out and say it but you knew he wasn’t going to. Fighting with his whole being to not let anything else slip out.

‘Y/n I-‘

‘Just be honest with me’ you told him firmly. Wanting him to come out and tell you what you already knew but now his face was bright red and even though he’d seemily backed him into corner he wasn’t coming out anytime soon.

‘Please y/n’

‘Do you… do you still have feelings for me?’ You asked. A mix of tiredness and your frustration about what you’d seen getting the better of you and as he tried to stutter out another excuse you lost it.

‘What? I-‘

‘Why are you doing this to me? You’re just as bad as him sometimes. Fucking with my emotions like this all the time. I told you when we were kids how I felt but here we are again. You’re making everything about you!’

‘I didn’t-‘

‘Whatever I don’t care. I’m going to bed’ you huffed. Storming off upstairs and slamming your door behind you in hopes that would send him a bit more of a message but as soon as you’d flopped down onto your bed you’d regretted the way you’d spoken to him. Tears springing in your eyes once more but you just let them flow, not ready to talk to anyone just yet as you needed to unscramble your thoughts

Mason had been sat with his thoughts for around five minutes when he heard footsteps coming back down the stairs but he knew straight away they weren’t yours. Waiting quietly for Gee to make her way into the living room and when she appeared in the doorway with the Gem the giraffe, the Teddy he’d gifted her when she’d just been born, under her arm Mason sent her a warm smile.

‘What are you doing up and about, misses? You should be asleep’

‘Where’s mummy’ she mumbled, her voice slow and sleepy as she rubbed her eyes and he realised she must have woken up when you’d slammed the door to your bedroom.

‘She’s just gone upstairs for a little bit. What’s wrong, pickle?’

‘Loud noise’ she pouted and Mason's suspicions were confirmed.

‘Oh I’m sorry, Gee. Would you like to come and sit with me for a bit?’ He asked, praying she would say yes so he wouldn’t have to go and disturb you but thankfully Gee nodded and made her way over to Mason. Standing in between his legs with her arms raised so he could lift her into his lap and once she was comfy with Gem cuddled into her chest, she was asleep again soon after. Her face smooshed into his shoulder as she laid across his body, holding onto his hoodie string with her tiny fist and he held her tightly before kissing her head good night.

It was around half an hour later when you realised you probably owed Mason an apology for blowing up like you had. Rubbing your eyes and sitting yourself up so you could build up the courage to make your way back down in hopes he was still on the sofa.

You came down to an unexpected sight, Mason still in his seat but a little visitor was asleep on his chest and your heart melted as you watched his hand rub over her back before he kissed the top of her head. Seemingly engrossed in whatever he had on the TV but he must have seen you moving in the corner of his eye and he turned to face you with a petrified expression.

‘What's Gee doing down here?’ You asked quietly.

‘She woke up when you went upstairs’ he told you and you instantly knew it was when you’d slammed the door. Guilt flooding you straight away that you’d managed to upset everyone under this roof tonight unintentionally. ‘I was gonna take her up in a bit she just seemed comfy here’

‘It’s okay, I’ll do it’ you nodded. Walking over and carefully picking her up from him and your heart thumped as she clung to your neck but that wasn’t the only reason. She smelt just like Mason as she’d been laying on him for so long and the need for his comfort consumed you. You just didn’t know if he’d want to give it to you this time.

It was a fairly simple job getting her back into bed. Usually when Gee was asleep she was dead to the world which made you feel even worse that you’d managed to wake her up but once she was back comfy under the covers with Gem cuddled under her chin, you stayed with her for a few minutes to check she was okay.

‘Mummy’s sorry baby’ you whispered. Pressing a kiss to her forehead as you smoothed her hair from her face but you knew there was someone else you needed to go and say sorry to.

Mason was still sat in the same spot, head resting on his hand that was propped up on the arm of the sofa and when you walked in he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. You didn’t give him the chance to say anything and you didn’t speak either, just crawled onto the sofa next to him and took up the space Gee just was. Nestling your head into his shoulder as you sprawled across him and even though the pair of you needed to talk things through, you were both giggling as he wrapped his arms around you and held you like a baby. Popping a kiss on your cheek as you got each comfy in each other's arms, a comfortable slice falling over you but you knew you needed to speak.

When you looked up at him, he was already looking down at you. Eyes full of confusion and hurt and even though you were terrified to open up to him, his scent that was so strong on Gee was now filling your senses and you felt at peace.

You felt at home.

‘I'm sorry for blowing up at you’

‘It’s okay-‘

‘No it’s not, Mase. You're not my punching bag and I shouldn't have said all that to you. It’s not your fault he’s gone and done that, I was just upset. The whole safari thing, that was my thing you know? Our thing, even. Not his’

‘I know love, and that’s what I meant earlier. He was a dickhead and you still wanted to go there with him, imagine the fun we’d have? And you don’t even need to imagine cause I promised you when we were kids I was taking you and I intend to stick to that promise’

‘Really’ you pouted.

‘Of course. You know when Gee’s a little older and she knows what’s going on and I’ve got the time I’m taking all of us, okay? I promised I would and I keep my promises’

‘Now I feel even more like a twat’ you laughed but he just held you closer. ‘I’m really sorry, Mase. It’s just hard. He always seems to get what he wants you know? He doesn’t deserve a happy ending’

‘I know it is, but you’ll get yours one day though i promise’ he whispered. ‘Shall we get you to bed? We can talk about it tomorrow if you still want to but I don’t want you down here winding yourself up’

‘Will you stay with me tonight?’ You asked. Looking up into big brown eyes. ‘I just know I’ll go crazy if I’m on my own’

‘Okay’ he replied shyly. Kissing your forehead gently before holding you close as you buried your nose into his neck. ‘If that’s what you want’

You realised in that moment that was a perfect phrase to sum up yours and Masons friendship.

If that’s what you want.

All he ever did was give you what you wanted to try and make you happy and as you laid in his arms you knew the next time he needed you you would be there for him in ways you never had before.

Little did you know that he’d be needing your more than he ever had sooner than you thought.

‘Will you sing to me like you sing to Gee?’ you asked. Laughing as you wrapped your arms around his bicep and nuzzled into his shoulder once you were both ready and in bed and you could tell from the way he laughed it was a no, but soon enough his soft voice was filtering through the room. Barely a whisper as he sung to you the song that was always reserved for Gee and it must have had the desired effect as soon enough you were sleeping peacefully next to him.

Mason kept singing though, using the fact that you were asleep to help him out a bit as the second verse of the song he always pictured you. It was like whoever wrote it had plucked the lyrics straight from Masons brain and you being asleep gave him the courage to finally sing this part to you.

‘Though you're close to me, we seem so far apart

Maybe given time you'll have a change of heart

If it takes forever, girl, then I'm prepared to wait

The day you give your love to me, won't be a day too late’

Tag list - @saltyheartnightmare @harvestmount @prideofpd @sid-vii @carlottawllms @footiehoemcfc @katharinanadiaa @whenelifallsinlove @neverinadream @cityzenchick @msnmnt @stikkibun @masonmtxo @chillymountsjess @yoursselo @maseymm @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @leclerc13

[darcytaylor]

Nicola’s message is a reality check that everyone should listen to. We can - and need to - do better. (Harper Bazaar Woman of the Year Awards)

For a while now, I’ve been saying here on my blog: speculation is not fact. We don’t - and never will - know the ins and outs of anyone’s private life, especially when it comes to someone like Nicola Coughlan. Yet so many people see her holding hands with someone and jump to conclusions, acting like they’re gospel truth. Can we please take a moment to think about why holding hands with a guy is somehow “evidence” of a relationship, but when she holds hands with female friends, no one bats an eye? (and no this is not where I want you to go into detail about all of your reasonings why she is dating someone, the point is WE DON'T KNOW - because we don't actually know her! And if someone says otherwise, they are lying!)

Even if Nicola is in a relationship, let’s remember that we don’t actually know anything about it, which is exactly how it should be. And for those hinting about pregnancy, even if they’re trying to be subtle with terms like “delicate position” - it’s beyond invasive, and it’s honestly FUCKED UP! People know exactly what you're suggesting, and Nicola called that behaviour out directly in her speech. If you’re focusing on her body rather than her work, you’re part of the problem. (You can read my pinned post where I go into more detail why speculating on pregnancy is fucked)

If Nicola doesn't like the way the media is portraying her, it's unlikely she would appreciate fans doing the same thing. Sometimes, people try to justify their actions by separating the media from fan behaviour, but the impact on her is the same. We need to remember that our assumptions, even if you think they are innocent, can be damaging.

What fans talk about often drives what the media focuses on, because they’re chasing clicks. If people weren’t feeding into it, the media wouldn’t have as much to go off.

What the fans talk about and what the media produces, go hand-in-hand, and ignoring that is a big part of the problem. Trying to justify it doesn’t change the fact that it can still affect Nicola - especially if she’s made it clear she’s uncomfortable and hates these narratives.

Nicola’s speech was a call out to reconsider how people engage with her personal life. I know I’ve been working on doing better, and I think everyone else in this fandom could stand to do the same. Instead of spinning theories about her relationships or appearance, maybe we could all step back, respect her boundaries, and celebrate her for what she wants to be recognized for: her achievements and her talent. Let's try not to make her whole personality about a guy.

Nicola took a stand on the insane focus on things like her relationship status, age, or dress size - topics that constantly overshadow her career and accomplishments. You can tell it's exhausting for her to be boxed into these labels, and she deserves better.

One of the best parts of her speech last night, for me, was when she praised her longtime inspiration, Victoria Beckham, who was right there in the audience. Nicola talked about how much Victoria meant to her growing up, especially for how she handled herself through nonstop scrutiny. Both women have had to deal with some of the same pressures -where fans and the media feel entitled to critique and dissect every aspect of their lives.

Nicola made it clear she’s tired of being defined by these things. People are more interested in latching onto rumours about her relationship status (even though we have zero confirmation of who she’s dating) or making guesses about her body, including potential pregnancy, all because of how she looks on any given day. This rush to define her identity based on whether she’s seen with someone or holding hands? It’s reductive and invasive.

Honestly, Nicola’s message is a reality check that everyone should listen to. We can - and need to - do better.

To the bigger creators: you especially have to do better because I can see some of you fuelling everything that Nicola hates. (I actually don’t think it’s the people who ship Luke and Nicola because that is part of her job, that is part of Bridgerton and her work, it’s a testament to how good of a job both her and Luke did, Nicola understands that). But the people who are shipping her with people outside of her work? DO BETTER!

And yes, I am also putting myself in the category of doing better. I think it’s imperative to look at past behaviours and strive to do better and be better.

EDIT: THIS PICTURE IS GORGEOUS! The flowers, the lighting, the vibe. It's perfect!

[acciotaitlynn]

living out my ovulation dreams ₊˚⊹

⤷ raf›sylus›zayne›xavier›you

⤷ 18+, unprotected sex, fingering, oral; ꒰m&f receiving꒱smut w some plot, angst, public sex, raf myth spoilers, merman junk, somnophilia, orgy, lil bit of stuff between xav and raf

⤷ 12,240

*this is my own take on the characters; I wrote them a bit differently than I usually do. hope you like it ♡

Sands of crystalized comet dust shimmer and press softly under bare feet as you walk along the Celestial Sea. Trees line the path, guiding you with starlit lanterns and leaves sparkling like spun silver as sea glass chimes gently in the air.

A figure comes into view, crouching by the water, teasing glowing fish with patterns on the surface. An astro guppy takes a playful nip as they swim in excited circles.

You sit beside him on the sand, watching a yellow fish nudge away the little bully before returning, twirling a proud dance for its bravery.

“I’m starting to expect new friends of yours every time we meet,” you tease.

Rafayel smiles softly before turning to you, gaze turning gentle as he takes you in. You don’t miss the way his eyes travel to the swell of your breasts, lingering before they slowly return to yours.

A fierce, pleased blush spreads over your cheeks at the heated look playing on his features.

When you’d put on this dress, embroidered with delicate shells in the same shade as the azure sea he hails from, you’d tried to ignore the hope that it would elicit such an expression.

His eyes swim with an unidentifiable emotion before they dart back to the water. A wave of amethyst hair slips from the knot at the nape of his neck as he shakes his head.

“He’s not necessarily a new friend. I’ve known Nova for a few weeks now. I swam up on him shortly after his birth, alone and scared. He’s been following me ever since. I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m family,” he states, his fingers resuming their shapes.

Your soft laugh fills the air as you nudge him with your shoulder, earning a stumble and a pouty glare in return. “Seems a big responsibility… but you’ve made yourself a fierce protector.” Nova turns quickly, knocking off Rafayel’s teal tormentor as he tries for another nip.

“Creatures of the deep sea are the most loyal beings you’ll ever meet,” he murmurs, sitting back on the sand with a soft sigh. His words seem to hold something back, carrying a weight you can’t begin to understand.

After months of meeting here, you’d hoped he would have opened up more by now, but he continued to hold a barrier between you that fills you with a surprising sadness.

Every gaze that ends too soon, every touch that pulls away too quickly, is an overwhelmingly painful punch to the gut.

You barely know him. You don’t understand the hesitancy and slight mistrust he holds when interacting with you. Sometimes, you wonder why he even takes the time to meet you here. It seems like a gentle, reluctant torture he forces himself to endure. Guilt wells in you for how you make him feel, even if you don’t get it. And for the fact that you genuinely shouldn’t be here.

You have someone waiting at home, someone you deeply cherish. If you’re being honest with yourself, a truth that triples your guilt, you have two significant people waiting, knowing your actions will hurt them both.

Sylus wasn’t home when you left tonight, so you’d taken the rare moment to observe Xavier as he napped on the couch, brushing back his hair as longing swept through you. Their faces swim in your vision, even as you turn to Rafayel.

Another figure with raven hair and bright, golden-green eyes smiles at you tenderly, but you shove him out as quickly as he comes, unable to handle more right now.

The weight of being a terrible person settles in your stomach like a heavy stone, an undeniable truth. You can’t resist it, though. Each man has an indisputable pull, luring you in even when you try desperately to fight it. You can’t make sense of any of it, but you’ve given up on resisting.

You think you did the moment Rafayel’s figure emerged from the waves, the sky painted in a palette of pastel hues as the sea had stirred with magical energy around him.

His form slid effortlessly through the water, casting a cascade of iridescent colors, a mesmerizing dance of blues, pinks, and purples. His fins became legs as the gills on his ears receded, vanishing along with the last traces of his marine form.

Hair cascaded around his shoulders, framing a face sculpted by the gods. His glowing eyes had locked on yours, looking for all the world like he’d come to this beach purely for you. Like there was an irresistible pull for him, too. He stepped onto land with purposeful strides, droplets of glistening seawater evaporating into the morning air as his presence hummed with power.

As he walked toward you, something strange had happened. An overwhelming sense of devotion, bordering on worship, washed over you, sending you to your knees before him. He’d smiled gently and helped you up, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach at his touch before he quickly drew away.

That was months ago, and meeting him here has become a weekly tradition; even more often, if you find time to slip away, your feet carry you to this spot without thinking. He’s always waiting for you, and when he isn’t, he rises from the water shortly after you arrive, breathless, as if he’d swam a long distance to get there.

He turns to you now with a distant look in his eyes, ones that never fail to make your body weak and tingly. Yours trail to his perfect, rosy lips. The desire to kiss him, to be closer to him, has developed into a want so powerful that you don’t know how much longer you can withstand it.

His gaze slowly shifts into that familiar, quiet pain as the unknowing desire etched onto your face burns bright, nearly blinding.

“How was work today?” he inquires as he turns away.

The Celestial Aid Clinic swims behind your eyes. With it, the physician holding a special, secret place in your heart.

“It was good. It’s been slow because the nearby residents are doing so well. I suppose having the best doctor around helps with that,” you reply, as anguish washes through you at his apparent distance. He smiles a genuine smile, nodding softly. The conversation trails off, the waves crashing against the shore, the only sound in the still night. You lay under the stars together, your hands almost touching between you.

Your mind is loud, drowning out the serene atmosphere with thoughts of Sylus; his hands roaming your body, him filling you up so completely, making you feel pleasure unlike any you’ve known. You want to scream, cry, and rage at the heavens for blessing you with an utterly perfect man, only to throw three equally wonderful ones your way like a cruel, cosmic joke.

But your longing is so strong; it's a palpable entity now, demanding that you give in. Drawing closer to him is so natural; his face is all you see as your fervent murmur brushes over his face. “I can’t take it anymore…”

His eyes go wide, hesitant, terrified almost, as your lips meet his. But they part instantly, his tongue dancing with yours as he releases a pained groan. His arm snakes around your waist as he pulls you against him, his body arching into yours, mouth drifting along your neck.

It’s feverish; you both grasping each other like you can’t get close enough, like you’re desperately trying to become one.

When his lips touch your chest, reality sweeps through you, and you jerk back, overwhelmed with disgust at yourself. Your eyes go wide, and you don’t think; you just turn toward home, your feet moving fast as you try to outrun your guilt and the longing to return to him.

He watches you leave, an unavoidable, desperate feeling settling in his chest.

He should be the one swimming away. He’d had a feeling he shouldn’t come here tonight. He was familiar with the look developing in your gaze for him as the bond between you pulled insistently.

He picked up soft footsteps growing closer but didn’t bother to turn from your retreating form. “Seems you finally gave in,” Sylus’s deep tone breaks through the quiet night. “I thought you were “done” with this?” Sylus asks, his tone surprisingly gentle. Rafayel turns away as your figure disappears, giving Sylus a sad smile before turning to the sea, not bothering to respond.

“I was wagering my brother would give in first; you should see his face after he hears her cries of pleasure coming from my room. Those puppy eyes that always make her melt fill with anguish before he storms from the house…”

A rare anger toward the man flares, his chuckle grating on Rafayel’s nerves. Sylus is way too cocky this time around.

“Just because you’re the one she fell for first this time doesn’t mean you have any claim on her that the rest of us don’t, you know that,” he states, standing and preparing to leave. Now that you’re gone, he longs to feel the waters wrapping around him, helping to wash away the hurt that’s been swelling since you left.

“And you know it’s impossible to let go,” Rafayel says simply. His legs transform as he slides into the wave’s embrace, turning to the shore, his burning eyes locking on Sylus’s bright, carmine gaze. The wind howls, harmonizing with the roar of the restless surf as deep booms echo from the depths. Colorful fish scatter as the ocean deepens to a stormy hue, reflecting its deity's mood. “Here we go again,” Rafayel says with overwhelming sadness. The sea returns to its serene state, the waters becoming still once more, leaving Sylus alone with the lap of gentle waves on the shore. 

It’s a quick trip home from the beach, but it feels longer as he strolls, contemplating what he witnessed on the beach. Rafayel was right. This is only the beginning. The start of another turn in a painful cycle.

The cottage comes into view, its smooth, pale stone shimmering with the reflection of distant stars. It's Sylus’s favorite home, among the ones he’s shared with you. A serene blend of simplicity and magic in an idyllic town with cobblestone paths, streetlamps crafted from glowing crystals, and the smell of a small bakery. He’s accustomed to living a lavish lifestyle with you, but he’s surprised he enjoys this much more. It’s peaceful and meaningful, allowing for a deeper connection with the universe's beauty and you.

The rustic inside is a welcome sight, the flames of the fireplace dancing with hues of soft blues and purples, emitting warmth and a faint, calming melody. You and Xavier sit back to back on the shimmering wood that lines the walls, reading books on cloud-shaped cushions. His brother jerks away from you when he sees Sylus, quickly steadying you with a hand to your back and a mumble of “Sorry” before leaving the room, leaving you confused, your book hanging limply in your hand as your eyes search after him.

Sylus releases a frustrated sigh. He doesn’t understand why Xavier is being so hesitant this time around. Typically, he’s the first person to run to you in every life, leading the search for you across the cosmos.

But Sylus won the race this time, and though it wasn’t purposeful, it irks Xavier relentlessly. He knows damn well he could just sit you on his lap, your sweet cunt warming him as you read, and Sylus won’t do a damn thing about it. He could tell him that until he was blue in the face, but he wasn’t going to pull his brother’s dick out and plop you on it. Xavier was going to have to man up and get over it.

He scoops you up, plopping down on the softer couch and holding you close. He can sense hesitancy in how you hold him and sees the guilt in your gaze when you kiss him before turning your focus back to your book.

He aches to reassure you that you have no reason to feel guilty. But he knows you need time. Rafayel is in your life again. Your yearning for Zayne is now palpable. And though Xavier clearly can't see it, your need for him is more potent than all.

Your head plops against Sylus’s chest as you drift to sleep, and he gently removes the book from your hand, cradling your head. He holds you for a long while, listening to the soothing melody of the cosmos flickering in the air and wishing for time to slow down so you can be just his for a little longer. 

Sleep clings to you as you rise from bed—a powerful pull guides you down the hall on gentle feet. Xavier watches wide-eyed as you climb into his bed. There’s no hesitancy in you as your arms wrap around him, nestling against his chest. Slumber pulls you under immediately with a soft sigh of relief.

He isn’t sure what to do. His hands hover above your back, and his heart pounds in his chest. You’ve never done this before. Not in this life anyway.

Joy overwhelms him at you seeking him out. This is what he needs… What he always requires—for you to want him above all. For you to show him at least in some small way.

In most lives, he’s shared a bed with you and Rafayel, so you sleeping in someone else’s regularly doesn’t sit well with him, even if he knows it shouldn’t matter.

Holding you like this is a balm to his soul. Until you start mumbling his name with a familiar longing as your body presses closer. He grows hard instantly, the need for you tearing him apart.

It isn’t long before you grow still, thank the heavens, and Xavier sighs, holding you tighter and settling in for a long night. 

You’re trying very hard not to think about the fact that one moment, you were in bed with Sylus, only to wake up in Xavier’s.

Did Sylus see you? He must have; there's no way around it.

You wonder how Xavier feels, but you haven’t had the chance to ask; he was gone when you woke up.

Nausea churns in your gut, intensifying when you see a figure exiting a treatment room, a tender smile gracing his stoic face. Ugh. Why does that sweet smile calm you instantly? Shouldn’t the fact that it does so feed the guilt within you?

The tranquility of the space and the gentle aroma of herbs and flowers from the garden you share out back add to the serene feeling within you.

Zayne’s office is composed of pale stone, with frosty veining that shimmers gently around delicate, frost-inspired engravings. Frosted glass panels with tiny snowflakes partition the rooms, with beds draped in soft, ethereal fabrics to match.

The space is warmth and ice intermingling harmoniously, perfectly representing the man himself. Your eyes browse the room as you praise your decorating skills.

Zayne touches your shoulder affectionately, a stern note in his voice. “You promised to take the day off today. You went so far as to pinky promise, in fact,” he accuses.

Your eyes dart to the bag in your hands nervously before you hold it out to him. You often grab lunch for Zayne to ensure he takes the time to eat. But you’ve never gone so far as to bring him a meal on your day off.

If he finds it odd, he doesn’t show it; he just regards it with a gentle expression and looks genuinely pleased. “It’s your favorite from the bakery near home. I mostly got sweets; I figured that would get you to eat if I’m not here to force you.”

He chuckles, taking the bag from your hands, his fingers lingering against yours momentarily. “You don’t have to force me; I’ll always do whatever it takes to ease your worries.”

A blush covers your cheeks at his words, and his smile grows wider as you glance away. “Um, I also came to ask if you’d like to try that new ice cream shop tonight,” you mumble sheepishly.

What is wrong with you? You didn’t come here to ask that. Only to drop the food off and leave. Why are you making things worse for yourself?

But, overall, Zayne is your friend, and going out with him is a regular occurrence. You can’t let your growing feelings create distance between you. Pleased, he nods his head. “I can meet you after I close up here,” he suggests.

You wonder how your heart can feel so light yet heavy at once as you head for heaven’s palace. 

Sylus has risen to the commander of the Heaven’s vanguard, with Xavier as his lieutenant. They work seamlessly together, and heaven’s forces have become unstoppable since taking charge.

You come to the training grounds at the palace often, having long sought to be able to protect yourself. A wish both brothers were eager to grant.

Maintaining your focus is tricky as you and Xavier dance.

The two of you are usually seamless, seemingly moving as one. But today, your balance feels off, your mind swarming with ever-nagging thoughts.

Concern fills Xavier’s face as his sword finds its place at his side. You try to avoid looking at how his thin white shirt clings to his chest or how good he looks when he pushes his damp hair back.“Is everything okay?” he asks softly.

You still haven’t spoken about what happened. Perhaps he’s waiting for you to bring it up, but now it doesn’t feel like the time. You see Sylus heading for the castle, so you nod, quickly bidding him goodbye as embarrassment floods you, leaving him confused.

Heading for Sylus's chambers, relief replaces shame as you meet his teasing gaze. “So, you’re running to me this time, kitten?” he drawls.

Shame hits you, only to be drowned out by Sylus wrapping your legs around his waist and kissing you. “It’s nothing to feel guilty about,” he murmurs, pressing you closer. You pull back instantly. “What do you mean it’s nothing to feel guilty about?! Of course, it is, Sylus. I sought your brother in my sleep and woke in his bed. That’s not nothing.”

Why did he always seem to be pushing you toward Xavier? It never ceased to confuse you.

“Look, I love you,” he states simply. “More than anything, I want you to be happy. If you need more than what I give you, then seek it. I’ll never hold that over you.”

You search his eyes. “I never want to make you feel like I need more. Plus, I don’t want you seeking anyone else, so it’d be selfish of me to do so,” you mumble sheepishly.

“I never said that I needed anything more,” he murmurs before his lips are on yours.

He sets you down long enough to tear off your clothes before you’re in his arms, and his cock is deep inside you.

His movements are frantic, but they slow as he carries you to the bed and hoists your legs, pressing as close as he can get with languid, deep strokes.

His eyes never stray from yours as he says, “No matter who or what you want, I’ll never leave you. Remember that.”

Tears fill your eyes at the sincerity in his words, at the way he makes love to you like you’re the most precious thing in this world.

He lets you flip him over as you move against him. Teasing your nipple and smacking your ass, a grin spreading across his face. You cover him in kisses, teeth working at his skin till he’s moaning beneath you, hands digging into your hips as he grinds you against him.

He rubs your clit as you bounce on his cock until you feel him tense and slow before he crushes your lips to his and presses deep as his essence fills you, dragging you over the edge with him.

Your eyes meet his as you stand in the shower. “I’m going out with Zayne tonight,” you say, your voice soft and guilty.

He smiles, kissing your head and stepping under the celestial waterfall whose perpetual warmth endlessly flows. “I promised someone one-on-one training tonight, so I’ll be home late anyway.”

You nod, excitement filling you at the prospect of seeing Zayne, even as you step closer to Sylus.  

“The name itself wins me over,” you state, looking at the sign above the door with Nebula Nibbles spelled out in twinkling stardust. Zayne softly chuckles as he opens the door for you.

The shop is cozy, with pastel tones, floating ice cream scoops, swirling constellations, and murals along the walls. And vibrant displays of scoops and enchanting jars containing sprinkles glow gently throughout the room.

Zayne tries stardust strawberry and nebula nougat while you opt for celestial carrot cake to irk him.

“You’re not allowed to try mine. You can’t reciprocate,” he states.

“That’s fair,” you giggle. But he ends up offering you some of each with a tender smile. “Did Miss Eloise come in today?” you ask, referring to the kind old lady who always brings along her tiny dog.

“She did; she asked about you.”

You sigh deeply. “I hate being off when Rupert comes in,” you pout.

You also hate being off since it’s a day away from Zayne.

Like twinkling stars, you take in the delicate fairy lights hanging around the exterior as you sit in comfortable silence on the couch. Your hands drift closer, pinkies touching. Neither of you moves, but the longing in the air is palpable.

He walks you home, casting his eyes on the luminescent stone’s gentle glow and the small, orb-like lights that hover gently along the edges of the pathway.

“Is everything okay? You haven’t spoken much tonight,” you observe.

He quirks a brow, the corners of his lips curving. “Neither have you,” he quips.

“That’s fair,” you mumble. It grows quiet again, but you step closer, giving him a soft smile.

Every bit of you aches to kiss him goodbye, but you settle for a hug. Before adding more, you need a little while to figure out how you feel about everything.

He stiffens before his arms wrap tightly around you, drawing you closer. He places a soft kiss on your head before he steps back with a sad smile. “Go to bed soon; it’s getting late,” he murmurs.

“Right back at you,” you pout. 

Xavier is cooking when you walk in, and your heart seizes before you realize the accompanying burnt scent isn’t lingering in the air.

“What are you making?” you ask hesitantly.

He gives you a knowing smirk, pulling a tray of freshly baked muffins from the oven. Muffins that look delicious and not burnt.

You can’t help the note of surprise in your voice as you say, “These are delicious!” the lunaberry-filled bread warming your insides. You narrow your eyes at him. “I detect foul play here,” you accuse, grabbing another muffin and walking away.

Hot water helps melt away stress, and the fragrance of celestial blooms is a soothing balm. Your mind drifts to Rafayel, and your hands trace your body as you pretend they belong to him.

Coming around your fingers with his name on your lips does nothing to ease your ache.

Within minutes, you’re running to the beach as fast as your feet can, pushing away every thought that tries to tear you from your goal.

He’s waiting for you, kissing you fiercely as you jump into his arms. You search his eyes, guiding him to the ground and wrapping your legs around his waist. “I don’t know what I’m doing…” you admit, tears filling your eyes.

Acceptance and understanding fill his features as he murmurs, “I know.”

Gods, his lips are soft. You can’t help but nibble and suck, earning deep groans that make your world spin.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” you whine, your body moving against him.

His movements grow hurried, freeing your breasts as he pulls your dress to your hips. Every pull of his lips and flick of his tongue is a wildfire, consuming you whole. He kneads firmly, his hand on your back as he helps you move faster.

You settle between his legs, moving to unbutton his pants, only to have your wrist caught in the process.

You pout at him, sitting back to give him space. “You don’t need to do that, cutie,” he says tenderly.

You move for him again, gaze earnest as you plead, “I want—no, need, to please you. Need to taste you as you cum. It hurts so badly,” you admit.

His throat bobs as he nods, helping you free his length. Of course, it’s as perfect as the rest of him, filling up your throat as you gag around it. You worship the thick head, eagerly lapping up the essence that drip out. “You taste so good,” you groan, bobbing as you suck and slurp around him.

He’s quietly whimpering, head thrown back in ecstasy as he bites his lip harshly, hips making tiny pumps into your mouth.

You find that you love teasing him, making relentless eye contact as you playfully circle and suck the ridges, murmuring, “cum for me… please?”

A faint glow appears above his heart as he nods feverishly, hands tangling in your hair as he holds you against him. He moves slow and deep before he’s still, and his warmth fills your throat. You hum happily around him, swallowing it all down, working him til he’s whining.

He’s so cute. His puffy lips and rosy cheeks, that perfect pout as he lays you on the sand, mumbling, “need to taste you just as bad…” before your panties tear off, and his tongue traces over you.

It’s soft and warm, aware of every spot that makes you squirm beneath it. Your thighs squeeze his face as you move against him, delighting in his slick chin as he meets your eyes and slips his fingers inside you.

He can’t take his gaze away from where you join, from you squeezing him tightly as he slides in and out. His mouth takes you fully, passionately working as he moves inside you, moaning eagerly against you.

The sight of him sucking your clit is all it takes to have your walls fluttering around him as a sharp cry leaves your lips. His fingers slip out as your knees frame your face, and his tongue dips in, pumping wildly until your pussy stills. Even then, he licks up every drop that leaves you, leaving you a moaning mess.

You pull your legs back further, loving the way his eyes latch onto your dripping core, still pulsing from the absence of him. “Need you to cum inside here, too,” you whisper, your eyes pleading with him. He curses softly, wasting no time at all before he’s burying himself deep, groaning against your neck as he bottoms out.

As he fills you up, an image flashes in your mind—you and Rafayel joined just like this, but at another time, another era.

That overwhelming sense of worship fills you again as you clench him tighter, pulling him close.

“I’ve missed you so much, my lord… missed you inside me so much,” leaves your lips on a sob without you fully realizing it, so lost in the pleasure he’s giving you.

He stills, eyes wide as his fingers dimple your skin.

Suddenly you’re on all fours, ass rising in the air as he grips you tight, fucking you roughly. Your back arches deep, cunt squeezing around him so tight he can barely breathe as he grabs your swaying breast.

“Best follower I could ever ask for…” he praises, earning a pitiful whimper from you and the pulsing of your pussy as you come around him, tears overflowing from the pleasure.

His thrusts turn sloppy as you get incredibly slick and warm, walls still pulsing around him. He guides you onto his lap, pressing deep while his hands move your hips. You take over, though, bouncing eagerly on his cock as you chase your next orgasm.

Every touch from him is like the most potent drug; every high is so intense it renders you helpless.

You need more.

You need this forever.

“I love it when you use me,” he mumbles, hands traveling your skin as he nips at your breast. You hold his mouth to the sensitive bud, forcing him to suck as you ride him.

Your hands cup his chin as you kiss his neck, licking the soft blue scales appearing on his skin, pulling a deep cry from him as his hips pump sharply.

“This isn’t enough…” you mumble pathetically, regretting your words when he stills and his eyes quietly assess you.

He brushes your hair back, kissing you gently. “I can help. But you’ll need to trust me,” he says, his tone suddenly serious.

You nod, whispering, “Always,” without hesitation.

He scoops you up, legs transforming as he glides into the water.

You can’t help tracing the soft, translucent blue scales along his tail, mirroring the play of the night sky against the sea’s surface.

Blushes of pink and purple merge seamlessly with blue along the fin's delicate edges, like the pattern of flickering flames.

Awe, sparkles in your eyes. Your arms wrap around his neck as you whisper, “You are so beautiful.” To which he blushes fiercely.

Something incredibly thick prods at your entrance, excitement and arousal flooding you as you realize what it is. You bounce eagerly, a grin spreading across your face.

He smiles, fingers dimpling your ass as he guides you. “Calm down, cutie, it’ll hurt at first…”

You go still, another vision flashing—his cock inside you while the waters splash around you.

You snap back, searching his gaze.

“Rafayel, do we know each other?”

He cups your face, smiling even as he looks so sad. “Maybe we’ve met in another life.”

His lips crush yours before you respond, and he gently pushes you onto him. You watch where you join, dripping around his impossibly thick length, much bigger than his human form, though similar in appearance.

It extends seamlessly from the tail, the softest, prettiest blues with delicate pink veins.

And the ridges… Hitting every spot just right as he fills you up.

Cries of pain and pleasure echo in the night as he bottoms out, your pussy stretching so wide around him it doesn’t seem physically possible.

He’s nervously gauging your reaction, but you pull him close, nuzzling against him as you bounce slowly. He holds you tight and lets you do as you please, just gently riding him as he presses kisses to your skin.

“This is what I need,” you murmur dreamily. “To worship my god in his truest form.”

He curses softly, impaling you, cock pushing into you so deep you see stars. Fervent murmurs of “harder” and his name fill the air as the sea roils around you, glowing with excited, colorful fish.

He doesn’t mean to whisper, “I’ve missed you so much…” with his face buried in your neck, but he doesn’t mind the slip since you earnestly reply, “I’ve missed you too,” before latching onto him for dear life and meeting him stroke for stroke.

He stills, resting where the water meets the sand, propping up on his hands and guiding you on top. He watches as he pushes inside you, gently commanding, “Show me how much.”

More than happy to oblige, you smile and nod, turning into a slut before his very eyes.

It’s endearing, as always. Tits bouncing wildly in his face as your demanding little hand presses him against them with a needy whine.

“So needy,” he teases. “Can’t let you go so long without my cock next time, yeah?”

“Speaking of, you waited entirely too long this time. You could have taken me weeks ago. Aren’t gods supposed to be merciful to their followers?” you mumble grumpily before your world turns upside down.

Memories upon memories.

Puzzle pieces slide into place as you scream in agony.

You and Rafayel are living so many lives together before your very eyes, lives filled with indescribable happiness and joy.

Some images are distorted, blurry renditions with other unidentifiable people. Something that leaves you frustrated for reasons you can’t explain.

The world spins as you meet his concerned eyes, feeling him grip your face as he watches you with eyes full of disbelief. Your eyes shine with understanding and tears as you whisper, “My husband.”

He hasn’t heard his favorite name leave your lips since the first lifetime. If your cunt weren’t keeping him grounded, he’d surely pass away from happiness.

Horror fills your eyes as you realize, “How could I forget you? I always forget you…”

Sobs wrack through you as you whisper, “I’m so sorry,” again and again, holding him close as you rock him, his tears dropping on your skin.

He meets your gaze. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he says softly, firmly.

“Why does everyone keep saying that? Causing others' pain is something to be sorry for!”

He brushes your hair back, giving you a tender, sad smile. You groan softly at how the slight movement makes him jerk inside you. He starts to guide your hips, but you catch his hands. “Why are you still here?” you plead.

Why is he still here so many lifetimes later, when all you’ve truly done is cause him pain?

Confusion fills his features before understanding does. He nuzzles you, whispering, “Because I love you, princess,” before his lips capture yours.

You can’t stop crying, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He kisses your tears as his fall silently, a look of sheer joy playing on his face. The boundaries he’s held around himself all these centuries are long gone; there is no hesitancy in his touch, no sadness clouding the lust.

You sit back with a wide smile as he watches you move. The friction of his soft scales against your inner thighs and his skin under your nails as you grip him is everything.

It makes a bit more sense now why your coupling feels so perfect.

It’s written in the stars.

Wonder and awe shine in his eyes as he squeezes your tit, grinning and guiding your hips. “You take me so well, cutie,” he praises with a firm smack to your ass.

“Harder,” you murmur, your cries of the word getting louder with each slap until you’re moving against each other so fervently you can hardly breathe, your cheeks red and tingly.

Your fingers tangle in his damp hair as your pussy pulses around him, and you press him deep. He feels you soak him as his cock gets messy. He buries his face in your neck with a hoarse shout, hot essence filling you in thick bursts as he throbs inside you.

Your heart pounds as you make a foolish decision.

“Do you want to stay at my place tonight?”

Surprise fills his eyes as he grins. “Don’t you have someone waiting for you?” he teases.

You nod, pushing away the embarrassment and guilt.

Sylus gives him a subtle nod when he enters, ruffling your hair and gently kissing you before retreating from the room.

Rafayel had been selfish; he hadn’t even considered who his presence might hurt. Wide blue eyes watch him from the sofa as you grab his hand and lead him to your room.

He’s inside you for hours before exhaustion finally takes you, with you shamelessly crying his name loud enough for the whole house to hear.

Xavier enters quietly, murmuring, “Would it be okay if I stay a little while?” He folds Xavier against him, running his fingers through his hair.

“This sucks,” Xavier mumbles petulantly, his deep pout forcing Rafayel to hold back laughter.

He moves over him, whispering, “Let us make it better,” before his tongue meets his.

Feeling each other's touch after so long is renewing. And they meld together so easily.

Xavier groans in pain as Rafayel pulls the covers down, revealing your bare form. He frees Xavier's length, running his fingers through your folds gently and scooping your essence onto his cock.

He lives for the cute little moans Xavier releases as he breaks under his hold.

“You can touch her, you know. I won’t tell.” He nips his ear playfully.

Xavier blushes and shakes his head.

“She always likes it,” he reassures, guiding Xavier to your breast.

From there, it’s easy. Xavier carefully tucks you under his arm as he lays back, fingers pinching and tugging your breasts as Rafayel strokes him. His hips buck up, and he reaches over to tease your clit, marveling at your slickness with a quiet curse.

He has you whimpering in your sleep, moaning his name when you don’t even know it’s him, coming around his fingers as cum coats his stomach and Rafayel eases him through the waves.

He holds you for a while, but he’s gone when you wake up. Rafayel is as well, with a note that says he’ll meet up with you later.

You’re running for Sylus immediately, guilt washing over you as you throw open the door and meet his gaze. “Morning, kitten,” he murmurs, a small smile curving his lips.

His arms gather you up without hesitation, his kisses soft and searching as you travel each other's skin.

“Were you not sated last night, sweetie?” he teases, smacking a breast and admiring its bounce.

“Can never get enough of you, Sy,” you say, moving between his legs.

He tastes so good. Pleasing him is a powerful aphrodisiac; his moans and gasps make your body sing.

Such a powerful presence, yet you can make him whimper beneath you in moments.

You work him fervently until he’s spilling in your throat before sliding him inside your cunt while he still twitches.

“I thought about you last night,” you admit, fingers tracing his perfect lips. His cock hardens again at your admission.

He growls, grabs your throat, and moves your hips, waiting for you to say more.

“Rafayel was deep inside me, and I kept thinking how good it would feel if you were too,” you whined, getting tighter at the image.

Sylus chuckles, nodding to where you join, where you struggle to take him. “We’ll shred you into ribbons, kitten,” he teases before flipping you over and pinning you down.

His pace is punishing, the grip of his hands possessive and painful.

You’re sobbing into the comforter as he takes you, commanding you to tell him you’re his over and over. “Again, sweetie.” More sharp slaps to your thighs and ass and pinches to your clit.

“I said you can fuck whoever you like. I didn’t say I wouldn’t make you pay,” he sneers, impaling the breath from your lungs.

He chokes you so hard your vision swims as he makes you tell him how good he feels inside you.

Needy and demanding of reassurance.

He had no reason to be upset, and he knows it. This is a song he’s sung time and again.

But his grip painfully tightens as he rubs your clit, feeling you tremble and cry around him, flooding his cock with warmth. His hips slam deep, filling you up with a horse shout, his teeth finding your shoulder with a sharp bite.

His mood improves instantly. He’s wrapping you in his arms, wiping your tears, and telling you it's alright.

“That was nice and all, but I’m starting to think you’re not as okay with this as you lead on,” you accuse hoarsely, massaging your sore skin.

He chuckles, tucking you against his chest and kissing your head. “I said I’m okay with it, kitten. I didn’t say I like it.” That wasn’t entirely the truth.

“You’re just telling me this now!?” you huff, giving his ankle a hard kick.

His laughter fills the room as he dodges your next attack, pinning you down on the bed and kissing you with a mischievous smile. “After they finish with you, do I have permission to fuck you however I please?” he murmurs.

Confusion fills your features. “They?”

“Answer me, sweetie.”

You nod softly. “You can always do as you please,” you whisper.

His cock fills you again, and this time, he makes love to you slowly, tenderly, as his lips gently trace the bruises he left on your skin. 

You try hard to hide the faint bruise on your neck, and everything is going well until you and Zayne are on the way back from lunch when you get hot and foolishly unbutton your collar.

His eyes go distant, and he’s quiet on the way back to the clinic. Mumbled responses and a cold expression are all he gives before disappearing into his office and locking the door.

You’re floating with joy, but you feel like a deflated balloon under the weight of his energy. The hurt that flashes in his eyes when he sees Sylus’s handprint replays in your mind on a loop as you clean exam rooms.

You’re humming a melody to cheer yourself when Zayne walks in, closing the door softly behind him.

He crosses his arms, eyes searching yours as his low voice pierces the air.“

Why are you denying yourself of me?”

You freeze, your mouth hanging open as you stumble over your words. “Uh, what? I’m n-not—I just,” you mumble pathetically, glancing anywhere but at him.

He tilts your chin, his smirk teasing as he quips, “Yes. You are.”

Your eyes narrow as irritation swirls through you.

There seems to be an abundance of cocky, overly-familiar men in your life, and some of them are a little too mouthy of late.

“What makes you think you know what I want?” you snap softly.

He hovers over you, lips inches from you as he angles your face. His low voice makes your body heat.

“So, you don’t like it when I do this, then?” he asks, pressing his lips to yours.

You zap to life, excitement dancing in you as you shrug, murmuring, “It’s not awful...”

He hums, nodding, tracing his tongue over your ear, biting gently.

“And this?” he breathes. Your body is limp in his arms as he unbuttons your collar, lips brushing over your skin like a soothing mist.

“It’s nice,” you admit, blushing when his eyes heat, and he murmurs, “Just nice?”

He kisses you again, wrapping you around him.

“Because this is the best thing I’ve ever felt,” he says earnestly, capturing your mouth passionately.

You hold him tight but groan in frustration, your balled fist gently smacking him. His soft laugh fills the air.

“What’s all this about?” he asks, trying and failing to keep his tone serious as he watches your outburst.

You sigh dramatically and wiggle around. “Everything is just so weird lately…” You whine, giving him a dire look.

“You should honestly stay far away from me,” you tell him in a firm tone, your expression dead-serious, to which he just grins.

“Thank you for the warning. I’ll keep it in mind.”

He sets you on the exam table, a mirthful glint in his eyes as snowflake-print latex traces your skin.

“W-what are you doing…” your voice is hesitant as he unbuttons your top, quickly pushing your bra down to free your breasts. They’re in his mouth before you can even protest. Not that you would. The pull of his lips and the flick of his tongue have you arching into his mouth with needy little whines as you pull him closer.

He hums happily at your reaction to his touch, feeling more at ease than in years. Perhaps since the last time he held you in his arms.

You eagerly search every bit of him you can reach, every touch fueling the desire to bend you over this table and show you how much he’s missed you.  But he prides himself on his patience and can hold out a little longer.

Plus, one of his favorite things in every lifetime is driving you mad until you're begging him to fill you for the first time.

In a particularly cherished memory, you push him down in frustration at his game, tugging his pants down and sitting on his cock without a second thought. He smiles softly as the image swims in his mind, pulling down your shorts and lacey ivory thong, one that sends him reeling.

You gasp softly as he props your legs next to you, spreading you open as you turn away, blushing fiercely. He guides your gaze to his. “Eye’s on me, little one,” he murmurs, ensuring you listen before he fixes his attention with a content hum as he holds you open, playing messily, coating you with firm strokes back and forth.

Worry flows through you as you stop him, anxiety clear in your voice as you ask, “Is anyone here?”

“Rupert and Eloise are waiting on lab results in exam room three. Better keep quiet,” he murmurs before his finger slides inside you, toying with your g-spot with a pained groan as you squeeze him tightly.

Out and in, then he circles your clit. Over and over until keeping quiet is near impossible.

You pray Miss Eloise’s long-distance hearing isn’t great because the cry of pleasure you release when Zayne’s mouth closes over you is feral. You hold him against you, grinding against his face fervently as his tongue dips inside and his nose brushes your clit with each movement.

“Look at me,”  he reminds softly before his fingers set a steady pace, edging you until you’re whimpering his name, begging him for release. 

He holds your face, forcing you to watch his fingers move inside you.

“Look at how wet you are... Making such a mess,” he scolds, awe filling his features as he watches you drip onto the shimmering fabric.

“Come for me now, love. Let me see,’ he commands softly.

You keep his gaze as pleasure washes through you, whimpering pathetically as his fingers tease you until you’re begging for him to stop.

A tender smirk crosses his face as he pulls your pants up and fixes your top, brushing your hair back into place with a chaste kiss to your head.

You reach for his pants eagerly, but he catches your hand.

“Let’s save that for another day,’’ he says gently before shutting the door behind him.

What the fuck just happened?

You look around the room, wide-eyed and sated at the mess you made.

Zayne was his usual stoic self for the rest of the day, acting as if nothing had happened. But he did ask if you want to go to a movie tomorrow, blushing fiercely.

Interacting with Xavier has never been awkward until now.

You’re sitting shoulder to shoulder on the sofa, taking turns reading Destined in Starlight, a series you both enjoy. He picked up the newest novel today, seeming eager to start reading when you got home.

But as his soft voice fills the air, something unidentifiable creeps in, and his face takes on a distant edge.

He scoots further away at one point with a soft, frustrated sigh. You scoot closer immediately in retaliation, and he sighs again, resignation in his features as the story continues.

Now he’s silent, staring at the softly glowing stars floating throughout the room, arms crossed, his brows scrunched in thought.

You’re just staring at him, frustration swirling through you.

You speak at the same time.

“What is stuck up your butt right now?”

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself last night.”

Ah.

Suddenly, you feel more guilty than ever.

For some reason, the hurt in his cerulean eyes hits you harder than anything else has.

You reach for him, but he jerks away, cracking your heart as he glares at you.

“Has anything else happened?” He asks accusingly.

Rafayel’s face swims in your mind—your literal husband. Then Zayne’s, his chin glistening with your essence.

Your eyes dart away as you blush fiercely, telling him all he needs to know. He huffs a laugh, hanging his head and nodding, almost emotionless.

Then he walks out of the house. 

Stones shimmer softly underfoot like twinkling stars as you walk through the park hand in hand with Sylus.

He admires the fairy lights strung along the bushes before turning to you with a gentle smile.

He took the news about Zayne well. Or at least he did an excellent job at pretending.

You cuddle together in the star-gazing meadow, surrounded by moon-themed cushions, admiring the open sky. The park provides telescopes and illustrated guides, telling stories of constellations and mythical sky creatures.

Sylus points out a particular constellation as you roll your eyes: Corvus, the Star Crow, the wise and watchful deity overseeing the balance between life, death, and transformation.

Figures.

“Have you ever heard of the Constellation of Kindred Spirits, kitten?” He asks suddenly, his voice hinting at sadness as he points to the cosmos. You shake your head.

“Representing deep connections and soul bonds with individuals,” he murmurs, brushing your cheek before motioning to another.

“That star-cluster is special. The Constellation of Radiant Heart. Standing for love, compassion, and the internal light that guides the soul.”

You watch him closely, feeling something stir within you. Some inexplicable feeling of understanding.

Strange, since you understand nothing at all.

“They compliment each other well, enhancing shared connections and destined relationships...” He pulls you close and kisses your head, saying nothing more, which you find odd. The night trails into a comfortable silence as you hold each other.

Why are his words running on a constant loop in your head, like a mystery you can’t solve?

Rafayel texts you to let you know he can’t make it over. Which is fine; you don’t want to leave Sylus’s side anyway. Later that night, you cradle his head as his breath evens out, stroking his hair softly.

Now that you’re alone, your thoughts and emotions run through you so quickly that you can’t make sense of them.

You feel incredibly guilty for not telling and Xavier about your restored memories, but how do you even broach that conversation? “Hey, so I’ve been married for centuries but, like, I didn’t know though, so it’s cool, right?”  

No.

You want to check on Xavier but can’t handle his anger right now.

You miss Zayne and Rafayel.

And more than anything, you wish they were all cuddled up with you, a vivid image that has your thighs pressing together and a moan slipping out.

You tuck yourself against Sylus with a sigh, wishing this wasn’t so unbearable. 

Guardians of the Cosmic Veil is awful. It’s a hate-watch for you and Zayne now.

The theatre is nearly empty because most people left a few minutes in. You haven’t left because you enjoy each other's company and Zayne’s dry humor.

“I think the plot got lost somewhere in the cosmic void—and nobody bothered to retrieve it.”

“It’s like escaping to a world where entertainment doesn’t exist.”

“This truly is taking me to another realm—one where I question my life choices for watching it.” 

His arm wraps around you, pulling you close as his hand trails up your thigh.

He’s not watching the movie at all. He’s too focused on the damp spot he sees when he pushes your dress up.

You gasp, wide-eyed gaze searching his as his fingers trail over it with a pleased hum. “Zayne—”

He rests his head against yours, kissing your cheek. “Shh. Let me take care of you.”

He’s pushing your panties aside and filling you in seconds, smiling as you make a soft noise of pleasure, and the person a few rows in front of you turns and makes eye contact.

You pray the lady can’t see you blushing as you wave and mouth an apology, narrowing your eyes at Zayne even as your hand travels to his cock, palming this thick length.

Gods, he’s going to feel so good inside you.

He moans quietly at your touch, pressing your hand down hard and grinding into it before collecting himself.

He must like it when you watch because he guides your face again, murmuring, “Look how beautiful you are.”

His hand is so sticky, his long fingers slipping in and out—one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. Him biting his lip harshly, his brows scrunching as he tries to hold back how good you’re making him feel is a close second.

The tighter the band grows in your core, the harder your hand works his cock, the material of his pants rubbing you raw.

You’re both doing a poor job of staying quiet now. The lady in front of you walks out. You hope it’s because of the terrible film, but you highly doubt it since she casts a disgusted look in your direction as she leaves. You can’t help but giggle, earning a soft smile as his fingers fuck you harder.

Squelching sounds fill the theatre as you grip his hand and ride it until you’re breathless and weak. You keep working him as you lick his fingers clean, eyes never leaving his hooded gaze.

His cock twitches violently, and you giggle as he curses and trembles, watching a dark stain spread on his pants.

“Little minx,” he accuses with a tender smile.

On the walk out, his cheeks are cherry-red, and he makes you pay by fingering you in the parking lot until you are well past overstimulated and begging him to stop.

The stain on his pants gets wider without you even touching him. 

You’re half asleep, standing in Xavier’s doorway again.

He sits up, watching you climb into bed with a look of hesitation on his face.

“I thought you have company,” he says, moving aside instead of pulling you close.

“Why are you so upset with me, Xai?” you mumble, a sleepy pout on your face that melts his heart.

He looks away, shaking his head. “I’m not.”

You hum sweetly, poking his arm. “Someone is full of it,” you tease.

He catches your hand and the other when it moves next, with a fierce look in his eyes. You don’t think; you just sit on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, nuzzling his nose and reveling in the surprise on his face.

“Are you mad because you wish you could do this?” you murmur, kissing him gently as your heart soars.

“Or maybe because you want to see these?” you ask, freeing your breasts with a smile at the desire clouding his features. He grips your thighs tightly, dimpling your skin as his throat bobs.

You take his hand, guiding it to your damp boxers—boxers he notices are his.

He hasn’t seen those in forever...

Joy overwhelms him—you had wanted him all this time.

Watching you bond with everyone but him was torture. He’s always believed you share something special that isn’t there with the others. So it was like a slap in the face when you seemed to prove otherwise.

He’d been too stupid, too slow—Sylus had latched onto your essence across the cosmos, rushing over immediately. By the time Xavier arrived, you were already head over heels, and even though it shouldn't, it felt wrong to intrude.

“Maybe you’re longing to fuck this?” you murmur.

He shakes his head, rubbing you delicately. “I don’t want those things—I need them… I need you.”

He cradles your head as he kisses you. First, soft and slow, then he’s pulling you tight against him as his tongue searches your mouth.

He feels like coming home after the worst day.

Like finding your guiding star in an endless night sky.

His touch elicits things you’ve never felt before, and he’s barely touching you. Just tracing shapes over your back and thighs, pressing kisses to your shoulders, and the swell of your breasts.

It’s absolutely ruining you.

Gripping your hair tight and tilting your head back so your pretty tits arch in his face, his lips and teeth in harmony to create faint bruises as he takes on a more possessive edge.

Every effort to get you closer, every mark that blooms, every rough grab of his hands that leave their sign, feels like an effort to claim what’s his.

You let him do as he pleases, gasping in a perfect mix of pain and pleasure, taking it like “his good little girl.”

You’re nothing but a doll on his lap. A mere plaything. And he’s really missed his favorite toy.

Your tits are red and puffy from the abuse of his mouth and hands, and your lips are slick and swollen as whimpers slip out.

“F-feels so gooood…” you sigh, a dreamy expression on your face as you watch him.

Lust shines in his blue eyes, their depths seeming unfathomable. The anger he’s trying to work off sharpens his features; his brows knit, and his jaw clenches as he uses you, looking nothing like the Xavier you know.

The soft, gentle man who holds a special place in your heart is long gone.

Honestly? You aren’t sure which version you like better.

“I missed you so much…” he whispers, confusion rising like a familiar friend.

There it is again.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

Rafayel said the same thing.

And just like you had then, you earnestly reply, “I missed you, too,” without thinking.

He says something, but you can’t hear it because a terrible pain shoots through your head, sending you into a void of swirling images from different times and different eras—all containing the man beneath you. Tears spill over as you murmur his name,  and he holds you tight, rocking you back and forth as worry rages in him.

Lifetimes of the most tender love you’ve ever known and the most profound friendship you’ve ever had flash before your eyes.

The missing pieces settle in your heart as it mends, repairing the thread that binds your souls together.

He comforts you in silence while you cry, but it’s taking everything in him not to beg you to talk to say something. Meeting his eyes, your gaze wide and pained, you cup his cheek, whispering, “I remember… everything,” in a small, scared voice.

You can’t possibly mean what he thinks you mean, but hope flares in him even as he fights it.

Your hands ball into fists as you hit him weakly, your tears welling over while emotions hit you so hard they make you feel sick. “What are you doing here!?” you ask, your voice breaking as you hit him again, only to have your arms pinned.

“I don’t understand,” he says softly, which frustrates you more. His kind, loving voice is like a knife to your heart.

“We promised each other, Xavier! In our first life, we promised to move on if anything happened. Specifically, we said there would be no endless searches through the cosmos,” you accuse, struggling against his hold.

His eyes widen, and his body locks up with a look of sheer disbelief. Your frustration softens a little at the tears slipping down his cheeks. You kiss some away and rest your head against his. “You were supposed to keep living, to go on and be happy, not waste your life in an endless cycle of torment. You aren’t leashed to me like Raffie... You have no responsibility to me.”

He releases his hold, smiling softly as his thumb circles your nipple. He realizes then that you don’t quite know everything… But he’ll take what he can get.

“You must have known I wouldn’t listen. Besides, would you truly not have searched for me if you remembered?” he asks, and his question hits home. You deflate like a balloon, your exasperation leaving you as sadness replaces it.

Pain shoots through your head again, so much worse than before. And then—Every puzzle piece clicks into place, and the finished product is a rendition of eternal love and devotion written in the stars.

Centuries ago, a foretold alignment of planets occurred as the sky vibrated with ethereal energy, giving constellations a front-row seat to the grand celestial ballet.

Mere patterns of stars were imbued with life, transforming into beings of radiant light and consciousness.

Five extraordinary stars came to life that day—The Constellation of Radiant Heart, representing compassion, love, and the internal light guiding one’s soul.

Kindred Spirits: deep connections and soul bonds between individuals.

Frosted Bloom: purity, resilience, and the delicate beauty of life in cold environments.

Eternal Flame: enduring passion, resilience, and the warmth of everlasting love.

And Eternal Union: the timeless bond between soulmates and love’s enduring nature across lifetimes.

You, Sylus, Zayne, Rafayel, and Xavier.

The constant pull to reach each other began instantly, bringing you and Rafayel together, with the others following soon after.

The foretold prophecy was whispered anew as word of your existence spread. It spoke of great power and the consequences of it being misused or led astray.

Signs pointed to your union being the power spoken of, as it embodies constellations that, when aligned, wield an offspring of energy capable of shifting the balance between light and darkness.

Of unhinging the very fabric of reality.

A council of gods striving to maintain this delicate balance intervened to prevent such possibilities, knowing that love, while powerful, could be unpredictable. 

Celestial threads were disrupted, corrupting their natural flow to keep you separated.

Yet, you naturally gravitate together—a cosmic force of nature beyond control, contributing subtly to the balance of creation. Such that your rediscovery of each other seems harmonious, like a divine occurrence, allowing it to slip right under the radar.

A fierce deity named Astra sent out a wave across the cosmos, selectively targeting your memories of the others.

You have no idea what broke the spell. Hopefully, Astra is dead; whatever it is,  you thank the gods for it.

You snap to reality, your eyes locking with Xavier’s as you smile, whispering, “My guiding star, come to life…” with wonder in your voice.

“Now I see,” you tease softly, cupping his cheeks as you both begin to cry.

Your lips find his, and the way you make out feels like it did the first time. His hand slips into your boxers, a low groan leaving him when he feels how wet and warm you are.

His fingers play in the slickness before they fill you, pumping deep and fast as he squeezes your breast, watching your every reaction.

Suddenly he’s freeing his cock, tearing your bottoms for easier access, and all but impaling you.

His hand grips the nape of your neck, guiding your head to his, as his arm winds around your waist, pulling you closer.

“You wanna apologize for taking so long to let me have you this time? Bet you're regretting it now that you remember my cock is your favorite,” he murmurs, his hands cupping your ass as he lifts you to the tip and down to a languid rhythm.

“Say it—tell me you’re sorry,” he demands softly, mouth finding your breast as he waits for your response.

“I am sorry,” you say, meaning it. He pushes deep, stilling you, his eyes searching yours.

“I know it irks you that you were last in line,” you tease, trying to keep a straight face.

His eyes narrow with a playful expression as he bites your boob. Hard.

He devours your shriek, throwing you on the bed and spreading you wide, fingers fucking you until you're crying his name.

His cock slips inside, lips curving with a soft smile, his eyes full of love, as he fucks you like it's all you’re suitable for.

“Tell me how good it feels,” he instructs calmly, with an almost bored tone, as he watches you squirm beneath him.

His cock stabs you sharply when you don’t respond.

“Fuck! It f-feels amazing. It always feels amazing!”

His pleased hum fills the air, sending shivers down your spine. “And whose cock is best?” he asks with a mischievous smile.

He’s playing like it’s a joke, but you know he’s serious.

He rubs your clit hard, gripping your throat as he hovers over you. “Well. What’s your answer?” he murmurs, kissing you softly.

You can’t see straight from him fucking you so hard, and he’s cutting off your air just right, causing pleasure to curl painfully, just waiting to snap.

“Yours, Xavier! Gods, you know that!” you sigh in exasperation, rolling your eyes to the heavens.

Xavier is the most jealous, hands down, with Raf close behind. Xavier needs constant reassurance of how much he means to you. If he doesn't get it, he’s either pouty or he’s destroying your poor body out of spite; there is no in-between.

“Good girl,” he coos, pushing your legs back and settling over you, teeth teasing your ear as he whispers, “And who do you love most?”

Your pussy tightens painfully, pulling him in deep as you kiss him and ease his worries.

“You Xai. It’s always been you silly.”

He makes a sweet, happy sound, his ears turning pink as he hides his face. The band in your core snaps so suddenly, hurtling you into an orgasm painful in its intensity.

You’re making such a mess, his cock squelching around so loud.

He’s slamming into you, watching you suck him in, whimpering as his hips slow and his essence warms you.

Then his total weight is on you, showering you with kisses til you're breathless and giggling. The storm in his eyes calms, and he can’t keep the smile off his face as he repeats, “I missed you so much!” with another little nuzzle.

Sylus walks in so quietly that you don’t hear him until his breath is against your skin.

“Seems our little pet has been keeping secrets,” he drawls.

His hand begins to trace your body, and Xavier leans back, hips resuming their pace as he spreads your legs and shifts his focus to where you join.

You groan, squirming around, grinding against him as excitement stirs.

You love it when they play with their toy together.

“When were you planning to tell me, sweetie? Your memories have been bubbling up for a while now,” he accuses, giving your breast a light slap with a teasing grin before he makes his way to your clit, rubbing slow, tortuous circles in time with Xavier’s thrusts.

Xavier’s watching Sylus’s fingers swirl above his cock, slipping in an out of you, a dazed, heady feeling taking over him as his soft voice reaches your ears like the embodiment of sin for someone seemingly so pure.

“Getting so tight… You always have liked it best when we fuck you together, huh?”

Sylus chuckles, capturing your whimper as Xavier’s pace quickens, cute little sounds leaving him as his fingers coat you messily, gripping your thighs tight with sloppy pumps of his hips.

“How much do you remember?’ Sylus inquires, his breath brushing your ear before trailing along your neck.

“Everything,” you murmur breathlessly. His gaze seeks yours, features full of disbelief and wonder.

“Everything?” he repeats, scared to believe it.

Tears fill your eyes, and a smile spreads wide as you nod fervently. His hand squeezes your cheeks, and his kiss takes your breath away.

“Well then, I guess you see that you owe us. We follow you across the cosmos… You put us through so much, kitten,” he says, his tone sweet yet mocking.

You roll your eyes, tossing him an exasperated glare. “You know well that you chase each other, not just me, jackass.”

You are shimmering stars that are only whole when together.

“Doesn't matter,” he says, freeing his cock; he turns your head and wets your lip with his essence. “Time to pay up.”

You act annoyed, but in reality, having them fill you at once and using you for their pleasure in such a primal way is sheer ecstasy.

Xavier’s teasing you, pressing kisses to your neck and cheeks while he murmurs filth in your ear, watching you choke around Sylus.

“I know you can take him better than that, angel.”

“No fair, Sy! Your cock is bigger this time. It doesn’t even fit.”

“Our perfect little star… You know you were made just for us, right?”

“Go on, tell him whose cock makes you feel best.”

That one earns him a knock upside the head as Sylus pushes him back.

Xavier’s soft laugh fills the air, hips resuming their unforgiving pace.

He cherishes making love to you so much more than having this resolute goal of destroying your body. But he's enjoying working off his pent-up frustration.

He also prefers having you all to himself. But something in the bond you all share makes sharing you feel like the most natural thing in the world.

Sylus has already clued Zayne and Rafayel in. Zayne is straight-up rushing over. Raf busts into the room now, jumping to your free side and overwhelming your cheek with kisses.

“Hey there, cutie,” he says, his radiant smile lighting his features and melting your heart.

His gaze drifts to Xavier’s pistoning cock, with a small, heated breath of, “Oh.” He teases your clit and Xavier's shaft with gentle fingers, lust clouding his face.

“Are they making you feel good?” he murmurs, watching Sylus fuck your mouth as you choke and nod, his fingers circling faster.

“Yeah? Just wait. I’ll make you feel so much better than they are,” he promises.

“Eyes on me now, sweetie,” Sylus commands, tugging your hair to angle your face. 

“You’ll take it all like a good girl,” he commands, fucking your throat so deep you lose the ability to breathe.

Rafayel’s mouth sucks and bites your breasts, teasing your nipples and palming your clit while his fingers play with Xavier, whose ruining your cunt, murmuring about how “You’re taking them so well” and telling Raf not to stop.

Sylus stills, cock throbbing as he releases so much cum you can barely get it down. Xavier’s warmth fills you next, and you tumble over with him, crying out around Sylus as pleasure rolls through you.

You’re so blissed-out you barely register being scooped up and carried to the pull-out sofa as Rafayel states he needs more room. He lowers you onto him, entering you gently, but the way he grips your thighs when he bottoms out is anything but.

He leans back and gets comfy, a teasing grin on his face as he commands, “Make me feel good first, princess. I’ll reward you after.”

He makes no move to help you; he just smiles and praises you while you bounce on his cock, dazed and trying to stay up on shaky legs.

You bury your face against him, switching to a slow grind, whining, “You feel so good, baby.” He groans, flipping you on your stomach instead and lifting your ass high, delivering gentle slaps that contradict his unforgiving pace. It only lasts a minute, though, as it slows at Zayne’s presence.

Zayne’s voice overwhelms your senses, murmuring, “Hello, beautiful.” He helps you prop up on the back of the sofa, kneeling so he can kiss you. He strokes your cheek, his eyes searching yours tenderly.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he says with a small smile.

“Zayniee!” you say dreamily. “Wanna taste you sooo bad,” you whine, earning a gentle laugh.

“I can arrange that,” he says, undoing his belt slowly. You open wide, moaning in pleasure as he pushes in.

His touch is gentler than the others—light squeezes of your breasts, fingertips tracing shapes on your back as his hips move slowly.

He grips your ass, helping you move against Rafayel, telling you how perfect you are.

Xavier settles next to you, rubbing your clit to Rafayel’s pace, while Sylus sits close, a glass of wine in hand. “You’re excelling in your penance, kitten,” he praises teasingly.

“Gonna paint you white, now, cutie,” Raf mumbles, his thrusts getting sloppy before his essence fills you up.

Zayne takes his place instantly, spooning you as his cock borderline rips you open.

Sylus isn’t the only one who leveled up in this life.

He holds you close for a while, just resting against your head while lightly gripping your throat, thumb rubbing to a soothing rhythm.

“I’ve prayed so many times for the spell to break,” he admits, agony filling his voice. “I was beginning to lose hope, but—” his hips begin to pump, and every touch is an attempt to reassure him that you’re truly here.

You cum around him again and again, the couch getting filthy as he turns you into an overstimulated, whimpering mess.

Sylus teases your breasts while Rafayel and Xavier sit close.

Your poor pussy is ruined, and you’re barely conscious, dazed by the pleasure they’re giving you.

This doesn’t seem to be ending anytime soon since Zayne murmurs, “Just one more time, my love.”