#the wild things beneath our skins au

[landprince]

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts Characters: Sora, Riku Rating: E Pairing: Sora/Riku Words: 2,532 Summary: A rather weak-willed individual, Sora is a 'go with the flow' type of guy with little actually going for him in his life. One night he saves a stray dog that was bleeding in an alleyway, only to wake up the next day to a shirtless man in his apartment wanting to change his entire worldview.

based off this

Stumbling to his feet, he used the couch to help him stand, only to freeze halfway between kneeling and standing as he saw a man he’d never seen before standing in his favorite pajama pants and shirtless in front of his stove in the kitchen. 

A fine flush coated Sora’s face as his eyes were drawn to a finely chiseled torso first of all, then up to the prettiest green-blue eyes he’d ever seen before framed by long silver hair. 

“Oh, you’re awake!” the stranger said conversationally with a closed-mouth smile. “I didn’t know how you liked your eggs, so I hope scrambled is okay.”

Sora watched, open-mouthed with confusion (and maybe a tiny bit of fear), as the man scraped some burnt eggs from a skillet and onto a plate. Another plate was beside it, sloppily fried eggs on that along with toast. 

“Who are you?” Sora managed to force out as he finally fully stood and took a few steps back to get closer to the door. His hand waved in the air as he groped for the doorknob, ready to make a run at the first chance. “How did you get in my house?” 

“You let me in,” the man said with a shrug as he placed the dirtied dishes into the dishwasher. “ You brought me here.”

[kurooh]

LIGHTS, CAMERAS, ACTION.

🎬 includes: aged up! midoriya izuku, bakugō katsuki, todoroki shōtō, & kaminark denki; + kirishima eijirō cameo!

🎬 warnings: 18+ content, fem! reader, pornstar & quirkless au, oral [m&f giving/receiving], vibrators, lots of fucking, threesome, orgasm torture but gentle, lingerie, shower sex, slight name calling (“slut”). not proofread so some parts may sound as though they were written by a degenerate

🎬 notes: here is THEE fabled pornstar au. hero names -> pornstar names. i had so much fun writing this — it may be the new crowning jewel of my blog.. after hours of writing, i hope you all enjoy! <3

DEKU.

☆ known as UA studios’ sweetheart, he has a wild side that viewers go crazy for! his most successful videos involve pussy eating, anal sex, food play, and ads for sex toys/clothing.

“alright,” the director, iida, says to you, “have you reviewed the script? do you understand our requirements?” a friendly makeup artist dusts a hint of blush across your cheeks, and smiles at her work. the makeup look is balanced between noticeable and natural — meant to compliment the lingerie adorning your body beneath your short dress.

“yes, i’ve reviewed it. no fake moans, of course.”

“that’s right. everything must be completely natural. we’re trying to sell pleasure, good sex, and lingerie.”

iida smiles at you, and looks around at the staff waiting for his order. “everyone, please get into position! deku, y/n, remember, you can say cut at any time.”

the cameramen assemble behind their equipment, and iida sits in his chair, script packet in hand. you and deku walk towards the bedroom setup, standing behind the door, preparing to walk on set. “action!”

deku pulls you into his arms, kissing you hard while one of his hands yanks at the door handle. he rams into it with his shoulder, and the both of you are suddenly beneath the warm set lights looking down into the cozy bedroom. you moan, tipping your head back slightly to suck on one of his soft lips, earning a desperate groan from him. when he pushes his hips against yours, your breath catches in your throat when his clothed cock presses against your thinly covered pelvis. part of you didn’t expect him to be this aroused, considering the amount of women he’s been with. you pull back gently, lines from the script flashing in your mind. “i need you so badly, deku.”

deku knows it’s a script, but goddamn do you sound convincing — like you truly want him more than anything. he kisses at your neck, arms wrapped around you, and tugs you with him down onto the bed. now you’re on top of him, in your see-through dress, grinding down on his pelvis and cock desperately. groaning, he flips the two of you over and cages you beneath him with his arms and chest. according to the script, one of his hands should be wandering under your dress and caressing whatever he can touch, but he stares at you instead, enamored with how beautiful you look. he kisses you one last time, and slips off your dress, his eyes going wide at the lacy lingerie adorning your body.

squirming under his gaze, you let your legs fall open, and he leans forward to kiss down your body, starting at your collarbone. he yanks at your bra straps, struggling to get the damn thing off you.

“sit up for me, baby.” deku murmurs, undoing the clasps on your back swiftly and laying you back down on the duvet once the bra’s off. going off script again, he squeezes your tits and sucks a nipple into his mouth. “oh, you’re so fucking beautiful.” your face warms and your back arches off the bed, pressing your tits into his face. his large, scarred hands grasp your tits eagerly, and more wetness pools in the underwear you’re supposed to be selling.

your hips jerk and twist beneath and against his own, and he moans loudly, desperately. deku finally pulls away from your tits, and focuses his attention on your clothed pussy. you’ve completely wet the lacy underwear through and through, causing it to become skin tight against your pussy; your wet folds are now extra defined.

“what a pretty pussy,” deku gasps, slipping his fingers into the crotch part of the underwear and yanking it to the side, exposing your fluttering cunt. with the script and its lines completely abandoned, you and deku make your own ad — “please, deku, wanna cum for you.”

breathlessly, he grabs your hips and tugs your pussy into his face, your clit bumping against his nose. now propped up against the pillows and fully naked, you watch the way he jerks his hips into the bed through lidded eyes. the sight of his desperation adds to your arousal, and you let out a whimper when he easily slips two fingers into you. deku begins a fast, rough pace with his fingers, pumping them in and out of you mercilessly. he takes your clit between his lips and sucks, switching between sucking and licking. you’re blissed out, eyes rolled back and body trembling — all you can hear are deku’s moans and the squelches your pussy makes from his fingers.

“oh, deku,” the thought that your throat will be sore from how loud you are tomorrow flashes through your mind briefly, “please don’t stop!”

he grips you tighter, pushes his face into your pussy more, trying to get impossibly closer to you. his hips quicken against the bed, his pants slipping off him. wait, when had he undone them?

you muffle a scream by pressing the back of your hand to your mouth when he starts to curl his fingers inside you, his large fingers hitting the right spots deep inside you and stretching you out. “pleasepleaseplease,” you don’t even know what you’re begging for, you’re so far gone. “deku, don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

suddenly, your hips buck into his face and there are hot sparks inside of your body, all over you. something in your pussy snaps, and you squirt all over him helplessly. the duvet is splashed, and you even get some on your belly and pelvis. deku takes most of your cum right in the face, his eyes closed and his mouth wide open.

shaking, you use your fingers to collect some of the liquid on your pelvis, and then press them into his open mouth. he moans, sucking on your fingers, his own body shaking. you lean forward slightly, eyes widening when you see a very noticeable wet spot on the front of his boxers, and some dampness on the duvet beneath him. his face is completely wet with your slick and squirt, and you cup his cheeks in your hands and kiss him, moaning when you taste yourself.

you both sit like that in silence, panting and coming down from your highs. until you both turn to iida and the cameramen, who look very surprised. he clears his throat. “we said cut a while ago.”

DYNAMIGHT.

☆ notorious for his rough demeanor and handling of co-stars, UA studios’ dynamight is popular internationally. his close friendship with fellow star red riot is revered; very occasionally, they collaborate together.

“okay, is everyone situated?” the director, iida asks, taking a step back to look over the setup. a stage crew member adds a pillow behind red riot, and smooths out the crimson couch cushion.

“hurry up and start fuckin’ filming.” dynamight holds the base of his cock tightly, trying to not lose his erection. you’re positioned between him and red riot, tits out, legs spread and sitting lazily. red riot sits behind you, a ring around the base of his cock, squeezing hard enough for a bit of precum to sit atop the head of his cock.

“bakugo!” he hisses, “no need to be so rude to them. i’m sorry for him, everyone.” typically, the rule is to only call co-stars by their porn names, to protect each other’s identities, but the three of you are friends outside of the industry, so none of you follow that rule with each other.

“thank you, kirishima.” iida glances at bakugo pointedly, then turns to sit in his director’s chair. he holds the script packet in his hand, and the clapperboard in the other. “action!” the cameras begin rolling at the clap.

immediately, bakugo grabs your chin and pulls you into a kiss, nipping at your lips while kirishima takes one of your nipples into his mouth and starts to suck. you moan against bakugo’s lips, your left hand sliding from your side up and into kirishima’s soft red hair, and you push his head into your chest further. at your right thigh, you feel bakugo’s cock hardening, ready for your attention. your hand wraps around it, thumb rubbing at the sensitive spot below his tip, and he groans, glaring at how kirishima’s taking up most of your focus. he leans over, and threads his fingers through his hair and tugs him right off your chest.

“oi! d’you want her pussy or her mouth?” kirishima’s face flushes, and he glances towards your pelvis silently.

“get on your hands and knees.” bakugo’s command leaves no room for hesitation, and you do exactly what he tells you. kirishima positions himself on his stomach, and places each of his hands on your ass cheeks. while bakugo gestures for you to open your mouth, kirishima presses his face into your pussy, his tongue dragging up and down your slit and collecting all your wetness. his fingers slip inside you, and your eyes fall shut for a moment when he matches bakugo’s pace.

you moan loudly, wiggling your ass back onto kirishima’s face, your mouth opening for bakugo’s large cock. “take it, princess.” he says, using a rare nickname. he exhales shakily once his tip passes between your lips, and pushes all the way in, smirking when you choke loudly.

slowly, he pistons his cock in and out of your mouth, speeding up when he hears you moan. you gasp around his cock when kirishima laps at your clit, his tongue silky soft against you. “red—! don’t stop.” your plea is muffled on bakugo’s cock, and he snaps his hips into your mouth faster when he hears you. bakugo groans loudly when he looks over your body, making eye contact with kirishima.

kirishima’s hands move from your ass cheeks to your hips, and he tugs you closer to him, licking your clit harder. “…taste so sweet,” he moans softly, and you clench on his fingers, jerking your hips back. the faster you cum, the faster he gets to have his way with you when he fucks you. gasping, your eyes travel from bakugo’s pelvis, up his sculpted body, to his face; his brows are knitted in concentration to not cum, and his jaw is slack from the pleasure.

“gonna cum,” you whine, your voice likely unheard over the sounds of bakugo’s groans and your throat being fucked. kirishima hears you, however, and licks your clit through your orgasm. he rises to his knees, uses his hands to spread your ass cheeks, and while you’re still twitching from cumming, he pushes his tip into you. then he snaps his hips forward, his cock sliding all the way inside you and bottoming out.

you gasp loudly, tears forming in your eyes and you stare into bakugo’s eyes. however, he and kirishima exchange a glance, and kirishima starts to fuck you hard and deep, and bakugo matches his pace. choking, you let out a sob at the way you’re being absolutely pounded from both ends. kirishima slaps your ass hard, and tosses his head back in bliss.

“fuck, i needed this. dynamight, should we cover her in cum or fill her up?”

“fill her up, red,” bakugo groans, desperately fighting off his orgasm, “and fuck her harder, for god’s sake.”

one of kirishima’s hands wanders to the small of your back, and he presses down slightly, keeping the both of you steady. the other hand snakes beneath your belly, and presses hard on your lower stomach, right above your pelvis. then, he slams his hips into you with much more gusto, his sounds reverberating throughout the studio. spit drips from your lips and down your chin, and tears flow freely down your face. kirishima’s thick cock is so deep inside you, and you’re so full of pressure you feel like you might explode. and bakugo — god, his cock’s stuffing your throat to its limit, and all you can think about is how much you need their cum.

you pull back off bakugo’s cock and bury your face in the couch cushions below you, sobbing as you throw your ass back onto kirishima. when you come back up, gasping, you say to both of them, begging, “fill me up and make me yours.” then you put all of your weight on your knees, and lift your arms to wrap them around bakugo’s waist, tugging him and his sexy adonis belt into your face. your mouth opens, welcoming his cock again, and with the change of position, he’s able to pound your mouth deeply enough for your nose to hit his pelvis.

with kirishima’s balls smacking into your clit and his cock pounding you so well, plus the added pressure on your lower belly, you find yourself cumming a second time, bakugo’s cock absorbing your loud, whiny moans. that one orgasm causes some sort of chain reaction — as kirishima fucks you through it, you feel another building, then crescendoing just as quickly as it came. but this one is different than the orgasms that preceded it; it feels so much stronger, and your pussy sounds really wet.

bakugo’s cock tightens and you know he can’t hold it back anymore. “shit, i’m so close.”

kirishima is the loudest of the three of you, his voice shaking and wavering as he registers that the three of you are all about to cum at the same time. “fuckfuckfuck, cumming, cum—”

“‘m gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna—”

bakugo cups the back of your head harshly, pushing you into his pelvis as he fills up your mouth with an uncharacteristic whimper that he could care less about quieting. your pussy clenches like a vice, and you squirt, spraying kirishima’s abs and pelvis with your cum. the redhead pushes as deep as he can inside you when he fills you up, and whines as he fucks you through it, his cock screaming with overstimulation. bakugo does the same, overstimulating himself too, and they both collapse towards each other, the three of you knocked out in a pile.

“cut!” iida shouts, and the crew rushes to grab cleanup supplies.

SHŌTŌ.

☆ one of UA studios’ most popular stars, shōtō is the audience’s dream fuck. men and women alike go wild over his simple yet sinful roleplay videos, moans, physique, and gentle yet firm treatment of his co-stars.

“now, we’ve already taken most of the footage for the rest of the film, so the shower scene will wrap this up.” director iida eyes both you and shoto earnestly, then adjusts his glasses. “i’d prefer to shoot this in one take, since it’s the end of the day and i’m sure everyone is raring to clock out.”

“of course, i understand,” you nod, and shoto says, “that’s right.”

“great! you’ve read over the script well, yes?”

the two of you nod silently; director iida quickly rushes over to his chair and snatches the clapperboard from his assistant with a whispered thank you. shoto steps out of the bathroom set, and walks into the living room area. you shed your robe and place it on a hanger, then step into the shower, drawing the curtain closed behind you. then, you turn on the water and wait.

“action!”

having already shot the rest of the footage prior to the shower scene, there’s no need to waste any time. squeezing a bit of softly scented body wash onto your hands, you lather it up until it becomes bubbly, then you rub it all over your torso, making sure to get plenty of suds onto your tits. scanning the shower for your face wash, you groan audibly when you realize it was misplaced elsewhere in your shared apartment.

“sho!” you call loudly, your heart fluttering at the thought of what’s coming next. “could you get my face wash, please?”

you continue washing your body, bubbles sliding from your skin to the floor. you hear faint footsteps in the hallway, then the door opens and shoto says from behind the curtain, “here’s your face wash, it was in the kitchen, by the sink.”

“thank you!” he’s been watching your silhouette move on the other side of the flowery curtain, face visibly warming at the thought of you being completely naked, this close to him. he’s still holding onto the face wash, now looking at your used panties and shorts on the counter. his eyes are honing in on the damp spot in the middle of your panties, the way it looks just a bit too sticky to be regular discharge — you were horny today, weren’t you?

fuck, all he can think about is stealing your panties… wrapping them around his cock and using them to help him jerk off to you. the camera zooms in on his hands when he allows himself to pick up your panties, then on his mouth when he brings them to his lips and licks away your slick.

“sho, my face wash?” you ask, sounding confused. your (fake) roommate tosses the panties down, his cock now rock hard in his sweats.

“right, i’m so sorry.” not thinking straight, he snatches the fabric of the shower curtain and its lining and yanks it to the side, exposing you. you, his pretty little roommate, with suds all over her tits, tiny bubbles caught in the fine hairs at your pelvis (yes, he looked. and for a rather long time). you’re surprised, shock and shyness and embarrassment written all over your face, but you don’t dare to close the shower curtain and kick him out of the bathroom.

after all, you’d hoped something like this would happen.

following the script, he’s the first to look away as he hands you the face wash. the curtain falls from his grasp; you notice the outline of his cock in his sweats, and he acts as though he’s about to walk away, off to jerk his cock somewhere in his room.

“sho,” your tone is flirtatious, yet oh so needy as you set the face wash down and open the curtain further. “if you don’t get the hell in here and fuck me right now, i swear i’ll—”

before you know it, his clothes are in a messy pile on the floor, and his cock is bobbing as he gets into the shower with you. your back hits cool tiles and yet all you feel is warmth when shoto kisses you, your heart starting to race as his pelvis meets yours. shoto pulls you off the tiles and closer into his chest, groaning quietly at your soapy tits and hard nipples.

“i can’t tell you how long i’ve needed this,” he chokes out, squeezing your tits in his hand. “how i’ve always been waiting for this.”

so far, the script is halfway through. “oh yeah?” you reply breathlessly, “you’re talkin’ like i haven’t been waiting either.”

“waiting for you to—ah!—fill me up and fuck me u-until i can’t stand.” your body and voice shake as his fingers slip between your thighs, the pads of his fingertips grazing your clit and dipping into your soaked slit.

“you’re ready, aren’t you, babygirl?” the nickname rolls off his tongue easily, “prepped yourself before this shower, yes?”

“yes, shoto.”

“what a slut.”

your face burns when you moan involuntarily, hips twisting as he pulls away his fingers. he licks away your wetness, slaps your ass, and whispers heavily, “bend over for me.”

and you do, suds washing off your back since you’re in the stream of the water, both hands planted firmly against the wall. as shoto positions himself behind you, he takes off the shower head; the camera zooms in on your sticky folds, your cunt fluttering at what’s to come. you’d heard privately from some of shoto’s last co-stars, and rumors from all around the studio — his cock was big, and he knew how to use it to make whoever he was with scream. additionally you’d seen the videos online, clips of him stretching out so many women, their screams of pleasure heard in each.

“fuck!” a shockwave of pleasure rushes through you and you register that shoto’s got the shower head aimed at your clit, and the settings are up high. he slaps your ass hard, and your legs spread slightly. grabbing the base of his cock firmly, he guides his tip between your folds, and pushes in gently. you moan, pushing your ass towards him, desperately wanting his full length. “so fucking eager, huh?” he teases, using his free hand to grip your hip firmly; he draws his hips back, then slams all the way inside you, his cock stretching you close to your limits.

you moan sharply, tears burning in your eyes almost immediately. “g-god, you’re perfect,” he hisses, pressing the shower head closer to you, already pounding you hard.

“isn’t this better than taking my panties?” you ask boldly, breathlessly.

“isn’t this better than jerking off in your room, listening to me and my hookups fuck?” he questions you smoothly, and your attitude falls away when the head of his cock slams right into your g-spot.

“oh! r-right there, sho, please.”

“i want to hear you,” he insists, “i want to hear you begging f’me.”

“fuck me hard,” you gasp, tears flowing down your cheeks just as the suds on your tits do. “fuck me, and cum inside me, and u-use me how you want to!”

the script is halfway through, as is the scene, but you don’t want him to stop. the camera zooms in on where you’re connected to him, his cock wet with your stringy slick as he snaps himself in and out of your creamy pussy.

“i will, i will,” he soothes you, his hand slipping and pressing the shower head flush again your clit. with the settings as high as they are, the water proves to be too much, and you find yourself letting out a scream.

“sho—oh! shoto, i’m cumming—”

he fucks you through your orgasm, his head lolling back as he gasps, beginning to struggle to hold his own back. your body shakes as he continues with his ruthless pounding; you feel dizzy when his cock hits the deepest spots inside of you. the shower head is still at your clit, overstimulating you, and even though your pussy is screaming, you don’t remove it.

“fill me up, pleasepleaseplease— i need your cum more than anything else!”

only one orgasm and you’re already feeling dumb on his cock, pussy clenching with desperation as his cock twitches inside you.

shoto pictures the panties outside of the shower that he’d had on his face, taking in your scent and taste. he remembers the times he’d heard you indulging in your own pleasure, messing around with your fingers, hoping that you’d one day be full of cock. his cock. your roommate used to toss and turn in his bed before he’d get out the lotion and open your instagram.

(clips will be edited into the current scene by director iida and the rest of the crew.)

“oh god, fuck— i’m gonna fill you up, and i-i don’t want you to wash it out. i want you to be dripping when you come back and i fuck you again.”

his part of the script is over, and it’s now your turn to nod desperately, then beg him for his cum like a good slut, for the sake of the film— but you’re not acting like he is.

with a deep, gasping groan, shoto unloads inside of you, his cock twitching as he fills you to the brim, some cum leaking out of the sides of your pussy. he collects it on his fingers, and puts the shower head away, then pushes his fingers into your mouth.

“cut! that was excellent, the two of you! we won’t be needing to do another take.” director iida rushes up to you with praises, and shoto fucks into you shallowly, causing you to gasp.

“let’s meet in my office sometime later,” shoto offers with a smile, “to review the footage.”

CHARGEBOLT.

☆ sponsored by many sex toy companies, large and small, UA studios’ chargebolt is recognized by the way he wields his large collection of vibrators! the audience never knows what to expect from him, besides overstimulation of either himself, or his co-star.

after hours, chargebolt—denki, your best friend from UA studios— relaxes with you in your shared apartment and watches movies with you on the couch. occasionally, he’ll start his camboy streams in his bedroom, but he’s usually by himself, until tonight.

as he empties a box of vibrators beside his clothed lap, his phone buzzes as more of his fans join his livestream and leave comments. “guys, slow down,” he whines, struggling to read all the comments; his face changes when he reads a certain comment. “WHAT!? WHO JUST TOLD ME TO BEND OVER AND GET OILED UP??” after a pause, he huffs, “guys, i’m so close to making you all pay to join these lives.”

before denki can start talking to his audience again, the door opens rather loudly and he startles, his body jerking.

“what are you doing?” you ask, eyes moving from his phone and then to his own slowly. your hand finds its place on your hip, and you lean against the door frame, an eyebrow raised.

denki warms, his mouth suddenly dry. “oh.. i’m on a live stream.”

“so you’re a pornstar in the day, and a camboy in the night?” you chuckle ruefully, pushing off the door frame and walking towards him.

“well, yeah,” he forces himself to look away from his phone, and keep himself focused on you, standing over him.

chargeboltsballs — he has a gf ??

therockst4r — YOOO WHO IS SHE

sumumiya — istg if he doesnt fuck her

tipsnwhips — OMG SHE SOUNDS HOT ASF

BBYGIRLLL DONATED $20 AND SAID “invite her on”

“aren’t they curious?” you ask with a giggle, reading some of the comments.

he looks up at you, his face bright red. he can’t believe he’s introducing his camboy audience to his best friend with benefits, that he secretly has a crush on. at this point, you might as well be his girlfriend. “uh,” denki struggles to get over the embarrassment and shyness, “would you mind joining the stream with me?”

“sure,” you sit down cross legged beside him, wearing only a thin pajama top and short shorts. “i’ve actually never been on a stream before, what do we do?”

“we can answer and ask questions, or we can see what people ask of us. i typically do what people ask for donations, or if everyone is in favor of an idea. and there are rules that everyone must follow in here, so nothing bad will be suggested.”

you read a comment, laughing lightly. “no, i’m not his girlfriend. we’re best friends.”

denki notices how easily you laugh it off, and wishes he could find a way to tell you how he really feels. luckily, a commenter comes to the rescue.

Y/NSTITTY DONATED $25 AND SAID “wtf are y’all waiting for?? show us what being fwbs is like! :)”

you and denki scoot away from the camera, and closer to each other — you cup his jaw in your hand and pull him into a smoldering kiss, and he moans desperately, pressing himself closer to you. his hand lands on your back, fingers tugging at the hem of your thin pajama top. meanwhile, your hands insistently yank at the elastic waistband of his sweats.

with half lidded eyes, your lips part, still connected by a thin string of your shared saliva. now on your knees, you quickly rid yourself of your pajama top, and then drag his sweatpants down his legs. you remain in your underwear and shorts; he still has his shirt and boxers.

face hot and chest heaving, you glance towards the phone, which is exploding with comments that are moving far too quickly to read. “what next?” you both ask at the same time, his eyes on your tits.

unanimously, the comments are all asking for him to use his vibrators on you. some request that he tortures you with orgasms, others mention that you should be edged. in your UA studios videos, edging is one of your specialties.

hungrily, you fling yourself into his chest, biting and sucking at his neck. your hands pull his cock free from his boxers, which are wet with precum — he moans against your skin, shaking with need. “gonna torture me, hmm?” sloppily, you rub at his cock, thumb circling the wet head deliciously.

“lay back, babe,” denki finds himself saying, his confident persona back again. “gonna set you up here.”

the comments explode with celebration, excited for what’ll come next. you lay back onto the generous amount of towels he has set up, tugging off your shorts and underwear, ass looking soft and oh so delectable.

denki spreads your legs and spins you from your vertical position to a horizontal one, showing off your wet pussy. with some silky restraints, he secures a wand to your left thigh, the head of the vibrator nudging your clit. he repeats the same with your right thigh, your clit now trapped between two vibrators. in all your time being friends with benefits, he’s never used two vibrators on you at once.

“get on your knees,” he says, his cock bobbing as he stands. with greed that unmatches your excitement in your films or clips, you take his cock into your throat, hands rising to his hips to pull him towards your face. immediately, denki finds himself moaning, one hand tangling in your hair and pushing your head down further; his other hand grasps a small black remote that blinks with light.

chargeboltsballs — damn i’ve never seen her suck dick like that

coconutsss — they have chemistry fr.

“fuck, you f-feel so good,” denki tosses his head back, turning on both vibrators. your hips jerk as he adjusts them to a low-medium setting, the vibrations hitting your clit and flowing through your body like waves.

he tugs you in, your nose pressing into the finely groomed blonde hairs of his pelvis. you moan loudly, your eyes closing as you lean into the sensations of the vibrators. when they open, denki’s looking down at you with a flushed face and eyes full of desire.

you slurp down his cock, developing a fast rhythm so good he bites his cheeks and prays for the strength to hold back his load. he turns up the vibrators, easily switching them to the maximum strength.

you choke on his length, eyes watering as you stare into his own, your hips jerking into thin air. still, you don’t let this newfound pleasure interfere with your cock sucking — you feel his cock tighten a few times, then realize he’s holding himself back.

“let me fuck your throat,” he murmurs, gently pushing you back so you’ll rest on your knees, soaking in more of the sensation from the vibrators. you moan loudly, “c-chargebolt!” even though you really mean to say his name.

smiling faintly, he presses his cock into your open mouth and cups the back of your head roughly. in and out, he fucks into your mouth, his head falling back every time his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag, tightening around him. between your legs, both vibrators are covered in your slick, dripping onto the floor. your back stiffens when the head of his cock hits a spot that’s extra deep in your throat, and then you can’t take the vibrators any more.

with a desperate whine, you cum hard, your pussy spasming and dripping with more of your juices. tears roll down your cheeks when he keeps fucking your mouth, his pace slowing with a few gasps. the vibrators continue, pushing you through your sensitivity, and you quickly orgasm again, nearly falling onto your back.

denki pulls his cock from your mouth, and instructs you to position yourself in front of the phone. “get on your forearms and knees. i want your face down and your ass up, babe.”

“y-yes!” you agree, reading some of the comments in hopes that they’ll help you ignore the vibrators.

juicybaby6 — he’s so lucky tf!!

grndmsters — wonder how many times she’ll cum… betting 6 times

CHARGEISMYMAN DONATED $10 AND SAID “fuck her brains out bro 🫡”

denki laughs, “will do!” and pushes into your vibrating pussy, groaning loudly at the feeling. you’re so tight around him, so wet and hot — and you’re also vibrating, which feels extra nice on his cock.

“oh, fuck!” you press your face into a towel, nearly squealing when he develops a decent pace, feeling overwhelmed. “i—i’m so sensitive, i don’t think i can take it.”

“don’t worry, babe,” denki coos affectionately, “you’ll be perfectly fine.” after the words leave him, he immediately starts to pound you, hand landing sharply against your ass.

you gasp, pushing your ass closer to his cock, body shaking with effort as you hold yourself up. “i—i’m gonna cum again, please—” you want to beg him to turn off the vibrators, but you feel too fucking good to stop. with a cry, you cum again, statin to sob when the vibrations continue.

denki fucks your puffy pussy mercilessly, groaning loudly. “babe,” he gasps, “i’m gonna —fuck!—cum soon, p-please cum with me!”

just the sounds of his moans have you cumming for a third time. feeling dizzy, you muster out an “mhm, mhm, i’ll try” as the vibrations begin to feel both pleasureful and painful.

crying, you stare right into the phone at your best friend behind you, at how he’s completely unraveling. comments flood in, thirsting over the both of you and how fucked out you look. denki whines loudly, “oh, i’m cumming— with me, cum with me baby!”

a scream rips from your throat as he cums inside you, filling you up to the brim and then some. your fourth orgasm of the night hits you like a train, and all you cry out, “denki!” as your pussy spasms on his cock, feeling a little raw from the vibrators but oh so satisfied. without wasting time, denki rips the tied vibrators from you; they hit the floor loudly, absolutely soaked.

he pulls out for a second and then flips you over and lays you down, pushes back in, and he fucks you until his cum spills out of you, one of his favorite sights. the comments explode with questions and surprise, some pointing out your accidental reveal of denki’s true name during your orgasm.

he slumps on top of you, face buried in your neck, pecking at your sweaty skin gently. “thank you for joining the stream tonight.. i really had a lot of fun.”

“i can only hope i’ll be invited to join more,” you laugh, brushing his hair away from his face.

“are you kidding me? of course!” denki exclaims, nuzzling into your neck now.

the reveal of denki’s name spreads like wildfire online, and you both wake up cuddling to find that you’ve both received angry texts from your managers.

[celestiall0tus]

Miraculous AU - Chapter 14 - Devotion

Beginning || Previous || Next

            Chloe stared at her ceiling. She tossed and turned a few times before she reached for her phone. She checked the time: midnight. She checked her messages, but there were no new ones. At least, not from Adrien. She growled and sat up, then chucked her phone. Pollen flew up from the coffee table and caught the phone.

            “What have I told you? It’s unbecoming to just throw things, especially when you’re angry.”

            Chloe growled as she crossed her arms. “Oh, who cares?”

            “I do. Now, talk to me. What’s on your mind, Darling?”

            “What isn’t? The city witnessed the storm of the century earlier which has officially been confirmed to be a monster attack. Which means Adrien was out in the storm, fighting the monster, and he hasn’t responded to my messages.”

            “I’m sure Adrien is fine. Besides, didn’t your father tell you that Gabriel doesn’t want you talking with his son?”

            “Well, yes. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to listen. Especially when he’s miserable in that house. I bet Gabriel is intentionally keeping Adrien busy for that reason, like always.”

            “This isn’t just about Adrien, is it, Darling?”

            Chloe looked at Pollen, then hid her face in her hands. “I’m scared, Pollen. First that Stoneheart thing that nearly killed us and now this storm? Not just for Adrien, who’s the one out there fighting with that Ladybug girl, but also me, Sabrina, and others. What if any of us fall victim to becoming a monster? What if others do because of me?”

            Pollen placed the phone on the bed, then sat on Chloe’s shoulder. “Are you afraid of your past coming back?”

            Tears fell from Chloe’s eyes. “Of course! I did so many terrible things. I made so many people miserable just to gain the attention of someone who never even knew me. And you’ve said, along with the new heroes, that whatever these butterflies are, feed on dark desires. The things that we keep buried deep in our hearts. What if someone I hurt comes after me, Sabrina, or Daddy? What do I do then?”

            “Well, there is a silver lining, albeit in a grey cloud.”

            Chloe sniffled and looked up. “What is that?”

            “Me. I believe it’s time.”

            “But you said-.”

            “I know. I never fully intended for this. I merely wanted to help guide you. To help you grow into a respectable young lady, but I can’t sit idly by, Darling. This butterfly holder is ruthless. His creatures will kill, intentionally or not, and I don’t want to lose you.”

            “But, what about Daddy and Sabrina? I don’t want to lose them.”

            Pollen placed a hand on Chloe’s cheek. “Darling, in protecting you, you will be able to protect them. You will step into the daylight a true queen to protect her people. All you must do is say three little words.”

            Chloe considered, then smirked. She jumped out of bed and grabbed the bee comb. She put it in her hair, then stood in front of her balcony door.

            “Pollen, buzz on.”

            Chloe stepped out into the night as Pollen disappeared into the comb and transformed Chloe. Her fair skin turned golden as her hair frizzled into wild curls around her. The whites of her eyes turned black, the irises became yellow, and her pupils vanished. A fur trimmed yellow halter dress formed on her. Black sections appeared on her dress that filled the body of her skirt, a strip around her waist, torso, and neck. Yellow fingered black gloves with fur cuffs appeared on her arms up to her bicep. Beneath her skirt were black and yellow tights with thigh high black boots. Around her hip, a yellow and black striped yo-yo appeared.

            Chloe took another step as her skirt split and flowed around her. She walked up to railing and stepped up onto it. She removed the yo-yo from her waist and practiced with it. Once she was comfortable using it, she chucked it and it snagged onto a far-off building. She tugged on the string as she leapt from the hotel rooftop and flew. She grinned as she glided through Paris.

            Chloe landed on a rooftop, ready to throw her yo-yo, when she saw Chat Noir. She gasped as her eyes lit up and threw her yo-yo towards him. It wrapped around his waist, and she pulled him towards her. He yelped as he was pulled into Chloe’s arms. She hugged him and spun around while he struggled to free himself.

            “I’m so glad to see you, Adrien!”

            Chat whipped his head around. “Chloe?”

            Chloe giggled and put him down. “Surprised?”

            “Yes. What are you doing here?”

            “I was taking a little stroll with Pollen. That was until I saw you.”

            “When did you activate your whatever it was?”

            “It’s a comb and just now, actually. Did you not feel it?”

            “Not that I noticed.”

            “Huh. Good to know. But isn’t this awesome? Now we can hang out with each other.”

            “We can?”

            “Of course. Who else will you hang out with at this hour?”

            “Usually Ladybug, but she usually doesn’t stay out too long.”

            “That’s perfect then! We can hang out after she leaves. Please.”

            “Sure. I’d honestly love that.”

            “Excellent. Now, let’s chat. How was the battle against the monster today?”

            Chat shrugged as he walked along the rooftop. “Not much of a battle against than it was against the weather. Between the rain, wind, and hail, it took a lot. Ladybug managed to get the object, but in a last ditch effort, the monster tried to strike us with lightning. It would have hit, if Louve Grise didn’t intervene.”

            Chloe grimaced. “Is Louve ok?”

            “I think she’s alright. It looked like her kwami took most of damage, but Ladybug took Louve to the hospital. I assume she’s still there.”

            “At least she’s ok. Others were not so lucky.”

            “What do you mean?”

            Chloe stopped and looked down. “I overheard Daddy going over the reports. Many people lost their lives in the storm and many more injured. They’re starting to consider actions to minimize casualties. Amongst the first was having all students take online courses, no going to school this year.”

            “Really? I’m sorry.”

            “I don’t mind so much. I suppose it gives me a bit of a break from my classmates. At least the ones like Alya.” Chloe sighed and sat down.

            Chat sat beside Chloe. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the issue that people have with you? Marinette said you had a bad rep, but why is that?”

            “You remember Audrey, right?

            “I think so? If I remember, she directs her own fashion magazine. She eventually left for the States, didn’t she?”

            “Yes. She is an accomplished woman, and I respect her for that. But she was, is, an awful person. Yet, I tried to be like her to gain her affection. When she returned a couple years ago, I thought it was my chance to make my mother see me. But I was a fool. She came back to finalize a divorce with Daddy and when I confronted her, all she said was: ‘who are you?’”

            Chat flinched, his ears pinned back, and his tail wrapped around him. “I didn’t know. Why didn’t you reach out?”

            Chloe wiped away the tears with a harsh laugh. “Because you were modeling at that point. Not to mention that your father hates me.”

            Chat looked away.

            “Regardless, in trying to gain the love of a monster, I became one. I made so many people miserable for years. I probably still would be if not for Pollen.”

            “How did you two meet anyway?”

            “Well, I was crying, devastated over what Audrey said and what I had done almost all my life. I remember a soft buzzing sound and then I felt something in my hair. I went to smack whatever it was but felt the comb. Then, I saw Pollen. I was so rude to her, telling her to go away, but she just smiled and wiped away my tears. She told me that she had no intention of leaving and that she’d help me to be a true queen.”

            “A true queen?”

            “Yeah. She’s became my mother, as silly as that sounds. She introduced herself to the staff, Jean, and Daddy, making her intentions and presence known. She then spent the last two years raising me as her own. Teaching me important lessons, admonishing me when I misbehaved, and worked to make me a better person. I don’t feel that I deserve her and what she did, but I can’t thank her enough. She gave me the second chance so many wouldn’t risk.”

            “I’m glad she was there for you. And, just so you know, it’s not silly. Pollen becoming your mother.”

            “Why do you say that?”

            “I know I had my mother until she passed, but she never really felt there for me, you know? Almost like her and Father only cared for the business… and each other. I’ve always just felt there, in the way, forgotten. Except when it came to Nathalie.”

            “Nathalie? She seems almost as cold as Gabriel at times.”

            “She was standoffish at first, but I quickly warmed up to her. It always felt that she’s tried to keep her distance. Always trying to focus on work, just giving me the bare minimum of attention. But she eventually opened up more and became the best part of my childhood.”

            “What about now?”

            “I’m glad she’s around. She’s more forced into it as Father stripped her of her job as his PA to be my personal nanny, but I’m grateful for her. Honestly, thinking back to when Ladybug asked how I function, it’s because of her.”

            “How?”

            “She’s always standing strong, no matter what. I always remember how she carried herself despite what Father threw at her and the strength in her silence. She became as trapped as me, but she never faltered. It was like no matter what was thrown at her, where she found herself, she could shoulder any burden and keep her head held high. I tried doing the same, but I just couldn’t.”

            “Well, she is an adult. It’s a little different.”

            Chat chuckled. He felt his ears twitch. He heard a rustling sound but ignored it. “Maybe, but what else could I do?”

            “Well, you are out here, right? Doing something about it, aren’t you?”

            “I may be out of the house, but there’s still a lot that I can’t do. I can only get out during the night when people should be asleep. The only teens I see at this hour are doing something probably illegal that I’d rather not deal with. I can’t hang out with the people I want cause how would Chat Noir know them? I’m glad I have you back now and I suppose Marinette since I think she’s Ladybug, but-.”

            “Wait, Marinette is Ladybug?”

            “Maybe? I don’t know for sure. I can kinda see it in her appearance and her kindness, but I’m just not hundred percent. There’s also something else, I guess.”

            “What’s that?”

            “Well, I might, maybe sorta, have a crush on Marinette, maybe. But does that mean I have a crush on Ladybug too if they’re the same person? I only interacted with her as Marinette a handful of times but have spent more time with her as Ladybug. But when she’s Ladybug, I didn’t feel that same draw as when I saw her as Marinette. But now that I might know, I’m confused as I might feel something for Ladybug too.”

            “Hush, Adrien. You’re overcomplicating things.”

            “This is kind of a complicated situation, don’t you think?”

            “Well, maybe. So, how exactly does she act as Ladybug?”

            “She’s kind and gentle. She’s also bubbly and playful with her fun little games. And there’s this air she gives off that makes me comfortable when I’m around her. And it’s easy to talk to her.”

            “Sounds like Marinette to me.”

            “Does it?”

            “It does. So, what’s the big deal? Why not just date her while she’s Ladybug and you as Chat Noir?”

            “I didn’t say anything about dating.”

            “Well, you said you had a crush on her, right?”

            “On Marinette, yeah. I’m not sure about Ladybug because I don’t know if she’s really the same person behind the mask.”

            “Adrien, some people don’t need masks to be themselves. Look at me. I plan to let Paris know that Chloe Bourgeois is one of their newest heroes as Queen Bee.”

            Chat huffed. “Not all of us get that luxury. I can’t just tell everyone who I am, not that I want to. As Adrien, there’s already an image, a certain standard, and I don’t want that applied to Chat Noir. I want to be real me, whoever that is, and not the me Father has created for the brand.”

            “Then, wouldn’t you want to hang out with Marinette Ladybug as Chat? Or any new friends for that matter? Let them see the real you and not whatever Gabriel made you to be?”

            “She has a point, Chat Noir,” Mayura said.

            Chat’s heart dropped. That voice, he knew it. He turned and saw a woman perched atop a chimney with her back to them. She wore a blue dress with a peacock tail behind her. Her skin a light blue, and dark blue hair that was tied back into a bun with peacock feathers in it.

            “Some may be lucky to express themselves freely without judgement. However, people like us need a mask to break from the expectations placed upon us.” Mayura paused and turned towards them. “Only once we are masked can we truly be free.”

            Chat’s jaw dropped when he saw the woman’s face. Despite the changes to her appearance, he recognized her anywhere: Nathalie.

            Queen Bee stared at Mayura in awe. “Who are you?”

            Mayura turned to Queen Bee. “As I am, I am Mayura.”

            A blush formed on Queen Bee’s cheeks. “You’re beautiful.”

            Mayura smiled. “Of course I am. I am beauty personified.”

            Chat stood. “What are you doing here? What are you plotting?”

            Mayura chuckled. She turned to face him. “I promise we’ll discuss that later, young hero. I regrettably must depart for now. I do apologize for intruding on your night out.”

            Queen Bee stood. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay a little longer? The night is still young.”

            “Maybe for you kids, but not for boring adults like me. I have adult stuff do to in the morning.”

            Queen Bee’s shoulders slumped. “Oh.”

            Mayura blinked, then smiled. She leapt down and placed a hand on Queen Bee’s shoulder. “Don’t be drawn in by beauty alone for it is deceiving. And chin up. You’ll find your queen one day, Queen Bee.”

            Queen Bee’s eyes widened. “How did you?”

            Mayura simply bowed. She turned and jumped away.

            “Hey, are you ok?” Chat asked.

            “Yeah, I’m good. She just caught me off guard.”

            “Yeah, me too.”

            “But, hey, want to go do something? The night is still young.”

            “What is there to do?”

            Queen Bee threw her yo-yo. “Why don’t we go find out?”

            Queen Bee tugged on the string and flew across the way. Chat smiled and joined her.

[haveyoureadthisqueerbook]

Everything for You by Chloe Liese received 112 votes total. 5.4% of respondents answered YES, they have read it. 94.6% of respondents answered NO, they have not read it.

Gear up for an all-the-feels, steamy slow-burn in this enemies-to-lovers sports romance about fighting for love when life's taught you it's a losing game. Gavin  We've been teammates for two years, but it feels like a lifetime that Oliver Bergman's been on my last nerve. A demanding captain and veteran player, I'm feared and friendless, while he's the beloved rising star, all sunshine smiles and upbeat team spirit. To make matters worse, he's obscenely attractive. In short: he's genetically designed to get under my skin. Avoiding Oliver has been my survival tactic on and off the field. But when Coach drops the bomb that we're now co-captains, avoiding him becomes impossible, and keeping the truth from him–let alone my distance–is harder than ever. Oliver  Life was great until soccer legend Gavin Hayes joined the team and proved he's nothing like the guy I grew up idolizing. Instead, he's a giant–albeit gorgeous–grump who lives to rain on my parade. I've sworn off pranks since entering the public eye, so rather than settle our differences the Bergman way, I've had to settle for killing Gavin with kindness. There's just one problem: killing him with kindness is killing me. To make matters worse, Coach gives us an ultimatum: put an end to our enmity or say goodbye to being captains. I'm prepared to be miserable while we meet her demands and make nice, but the last thing I expect is to discover an explosive attraction we can't help but act on, and worse yet, to realize the man hiding beneath Gavin's gruff exterior is all I've ever wanted. Everything for You is a grumpy-sunshine, enemies-to-lovers, age gap sports romance about an upbeat rising soccer star with anxiety and his curmudgeonly veteran teammate who lives with chronic pain. Complete with nosy senior citizens, nosier siblings, and a meddling coach, this standalone slow burn is the fifth in a series of novels about a Swedish-American family of five brothers, two sisters, and their wild adventures as they each find happily ever after.

This is definitely a Ted Lasso AU (Liese says so in the author's note).

[a-gal-with-taste]

High-Noon Heat (Oneshot)

Warnings: SFW. Chapter 2, pre-relationship, flirting, fluff, humor, romance, domestic-fluff, camp-interactions, mild AU (Micah's dead, because I say so), cook!Reader, John being an annoying little brother

Gift for @sweatandwoe ♡

It was high-noon, and even with the breeze, you could swear Arthur already looked more heated than Hell, with cheeks already reddening as he approached the stewpot you were bent over, fresh from another several-day excursion around the country. 

"Arthur."

"... Miss." 

There it was again - the start of your first name, before habit, courtesy, and just the barest hint of flusteredness entered his gruff tone, and he fell back onto a far-more respectful greeting than just your first name. 

"Been back for a hot minute, I'm sure you're famished," You say, smiling up as you glanced towards him. Noon-high caught the gold in his hair, bright enough that you had to resist the urge to squint. "Hope you've had smooth traveling, sure been gone awhile..." 

"Well, someone's gotta, ever since Micah..." One burly shoulder shrugged, half in nonchalance, and half in the direction of the cliff giving the Outlook its name. "I'd take Lenny, but kid's still shook-up, 'bout losing so many the last few months..." 

"I'm sorry," You say, softly. You didn't know those who came before.

The Callander boys were men of legends, apparently, and Jenny sounded like such a sweet girl - all gone long before you arrived. Perhaps it was the nature of things, but the first death you'd encountered among the camps-ranks was hardly even met with a subdued reaction. Some drank a bit more excessively, but there were a couple more jokes than mournful jeers... Mr. Van der Linde, however, had shut himself in his tent for the night after. 

You didn't quite know why, Mr Bell hadn't exactly been charming - in fact, your skin crawled at the memory of him - but you still kept your tone cautiously respectful, "I don't... I hope it's not a loss that's leaving you to suffer, since you take his job as well as your own?" 

"Suffer? Nah... tempted to thank God, if I'm honest. For ending his suffering, and ours." 

Pearson glanced up from the rabbit as your sudden, inappropriately-timed snort, unable to hold back the stern note in his reminder, "Not in the stew, Miss! Got enough seasoning in there already, don't need snot to go along with it!" 

"I know, Simon, I know!" The friendly-eye roll you gave was met with a scoff, but when you turn back to the main-muscle of the Van der Linde Gang, your cheeks heated under much more than the sun when you caught Arthur staring, watching you smile playfully with a peek of his own grin beneath the rim of his hat. 

A hat that lowered sharply as he ducked his head, suddenly finding the Overlook grass very fascinating, particularly as he scuffed it with his boots. 

"Well... I'm glad you seem to be enjoying the roads, Arthur. Seems like you're gone most the time..." 

"Not by choice, but we all gotta eat, gotta work... speaking of," He glanced back at you, cornflower-blue eyes meeting yours, before he again glanced away, fingers tapping a beat on his belt. "You uh, got any special requests for when I'm out on the trail?" 

You blinked, "Oh, I wouldn't want to take you from your work, Arthur-" 

"Top three-choices, Miss. Sound 'em off, I'll get 'em for you." A pause, before he added, a bit hastily. "Ain't no trouble... never is." 

Tongue prods the inside of your cheek for a moment, as you studied him, while he made his own studies with the outlining shrubbery of the camp. "... Turkey would be nice, good for hearts. If you come across rosemary, Hosea could also use some for his breathing," The old fool was sharp, and smarter than anyone else in the gang, but a fool nonetheless, acting like you couldn't hear him wheezing half-a-tent away... "Oh! Wild carrot too, it's good for the stew... plus Jackie could use the veggies." 

"And the kid was 'bout just begging me for a cocoa-bar... gonna feel lilttle betrayed about this one," Another small grin crossed his features, one you couldn't help but share as, stirring done with all the chopped herbs freshly-submerged, you reached for a tin-bowl. 

"Partners in crime, you and I are, Mister Morgan," You teased, filling up the bowl with a generous, hearty helping before passing it into his hand. The calloused he brushed against your fingers left tingles, but you managed to keep your voice light. "I won't tattle if you won't." 

"I'll be going to my grave in silence, Miss," He vowed, shoveling a dented spoon in to take a large chunk from the bowl - already half-empty by the time he takes his sentence, and you wonder if Arthur even swallows by the time he chugs the final portion of his bowl. 

"... 'M sorry," He said, sheepish under your wide-eye glare at his ravenous appetite, even though you're far from displeased. "Long ride and... good food. Gotta get it when you can." 

"Right... well, I'll be sure to have plenty for you when you get back," You promised him standing up while brushing off your hands on your apron, before holding one out to him with a smile, warm as the noon-high sun above. "Well, happy travels, Arthur. Be safe." 

A beat passes, before, once more, your skin tingles pleasantly with the feel of warm callouses brushing along your skin. The handshake Arthur gives is only one good, hearty pump between you - but while the man had muscles that could no-doubt crush you in an instant, the grip around your hand was so tenderly gentle, that it almost made you melt... 

And then he had to speak - low, and voice husked enough that you very-nearly turned into a puddle, "'course I will, Miss. You keep safe, too... be looking forward to that meal when I get back."

"Hope so. I'll have it hot and ready for you." 

Arthur's hand stilled so much in yours, you feared he became a statue. 

And then he was moving fast, hand pulling away, chin ducking as he turned on a heel to walk away, burly shoulders up high enough to red-tipped ears.

Your own ears were burning as you watched him walk, and you-yourself quickly tried to reverse the blush on your own face by returning to the game table, joining a carefully-oblivious Pearson in preparing the new additions to the stewpot... 

It would've worked, the new distraction to try and push aside the fluttering in your chest, and the warmth on your cheeks. But, as if it was a temptation too sweet to even try to ignore, John succeeded in making your face burn an even hotter-temperature with a mocking-drawl of your words after his fellow retreating gunslinger. 

"Yeah, Arthur, be safe..." 

"You be safe too, John. Don't let the mosquitoes eat ya while you're lounging 'round. Wolves already had their bite, ain't gonna be much left..." 

Hosea, ever the calm mediator from halfway across the camp, "Delinquency should be well behind you both, gentlemen! You're making Sean look more grown...!" 

It was high-noon, and you swore your face was hotter than the sun.

Maybe even hotter than Hell-itself.

[healinghyunjin]

Moonlight

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Reader (fem)

Genre: smut, romance, fluff, crack(?); historical!AU, arranged marriage!AU, 18+ (this continues where my last fic, Moonrise, leaves off, so this is almost PWP lol - be warned!!)

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, switch dynamics

Author’s Note: As soon as Play With Fire dropped, I knew I had to finish out that cliffhanger from Moonrise. This is very rushed by my standards, so please excuse any egregious errors or mistakes. My writing here is very much based off the energy/vibes I’ve been running off from the cover, so if Hyunjin’s character here is a little OOC from how he was depicted in Moonrise - please forgive me [there’s also a detail I couldn’t leave out of this from the video lol, idk if that makes this crack]!! This is thirsty and smutty as HELL - so have your holy water ready (and if this is not your thing, please just keep scrolling!). 

Taglist: @the7thcrow​ @ohmysparkle​ @dreamofamor @tenclouds​ @honeydewhyunjinnie​

And finally: Just to repeat what others have said: if you enjoy reading fics on this site, please reblog them and interact with the writers! Yes, a lot of us try to be “writing for ourselves,” but plotting, outlining, and writing longer, more detailed fics can take days, weeks, and even months’ worth of effort. Even quick messages or asks can really make our day and give us the motivation to keep writing. So please - reblog, engage, and slide into our DMs!!

While you could *maybe* read this standalone for just the smut, I would suggest that you read Moonrise first (linked here!) for more context, characterization and plot (along with the first part of the smut scene lol)!!

You felt fire blazing through your veins as you gazed down at your husband – your lover – laying beneath you, head lolled back against the pillows as you trailed your fingers down his throat.

You’d just managed to get the laces of Hyunjin’s doublet undone, hands trembling from urgency, from the need to see, to touch, to feel. Now, having hastily disposed of it, you were left with your husband clad simply in a thin, white shirt, tantalizing flashes of skin peeking through with every rise and fall of his chest.

You’d thought that there was no greater pleasure than laying under Hyunjin, trembling in his arms and submitting to him as he lovingly, passionately wrecked you. Now that he had let you take the reins however, wanting you to feel more comfortable with his body – you found that the thought of dictating, directing his pleasure; the thought of having the freedom to do whatever you wanted to him…it did things to your insides.

You’d never thought that unselfishly giving someone pleasure could give you the same high that receiving pleasure yourself could – and you wanted more.

Crawling back over him, you straddled his hips and laid yourself, still naked, on top of his chest, hissing as your sensitized nipples caught against the fabric of his shirt.  

Tugging at the neckline of his shirt – and ripping off a few buttons in the process – you exposed more and more of his skin to the hazy moonlight. Hyunjin looked like an angel, dragged out of heaven by your own hands – his plump lips swollen from your kisses, his hair a wild mess from your fingers, his clothing torn from his body by your lecherous hands.

“Eager, aren’t we?” Hyunjin squeezed out, clearly affected by your advances – and the slow, seemingly careless motion of your hips rubbing down on his. Still, you clucked your tongue in disapproval – he’d had managed to render you speechless earlier, but you clearly hadn’t done as good of a job – yet.

“Not as much as you’ll be in a few minutes.” With that, you dived into his neck, clumsily but fervently worshipping the dips of his collarbones, the smooth column of his throat – nipping and biting at the supple flesh – marking him just as he’d done to you earlier.

Underneath you, Hyunjin was losing his mind. The feeling of your lips sucking on his, your hips rolling against his, your body on top of his – everything felt so new, so wanton. It felt strange for him to give up control – to just lay there and be pleasured like this. Here, in your arms, he didn’t have to be a king anymore, he didn’t have to be Hwang Hyunjin anymore – he was just a man, passionately being loved on by his woman.

He couldn’t get enough. And he just hoped, prayed that he wouldn’t explode in his pants before you even got there.

“Ugh, this needs to come off.” Detaching yourself from his throat, you sat up on him, furiously undoing the remaining buttons holding his shirt closed. In the process, you inadvertently ground your core into his dick, almost your full body weight driving the motion.

Hyunjin choked, hips bucking up involuntarily.

You bit your lip, trying to hide your satisfaction at that delicious ridge once again digging into where you wanted it the most. But, as you felt your husband’s hands trying to sneak up onto your waist, attempting to grind you down onto him again, you lightly slapped his hands away, playfully frowning down at him.

You called the shots here – and you couldn’t have him distracting you if you were going to get this shirt unbuttoned any time soon.  

“Love, you’re so mean. I wasn’t this mean to you,” Hyunjin pouted, his expression contrasting hilariously with just how lewd, how fucked out the rest of his body looked. “I took such good care of you, and this is what I get in re-”

His whining cut off sharply as he realized that you’d finally gotten his shirt fully unbuttoned – and your eyes were fixed on his stomach, your lips curling up in a slow, wicked smile.

As you’d predicted from the feeling of his body pressed up against yours, Hyunjin had a beautiful set of abs: well-defined, tight and toned – so gorgeous that you wanted to outline them with your tongue, pay court to them with your lips.

But – there, right in the middle, twinkling prettily in the moonlight, was a dainty little piece of jewelry, one that you’d never expected your husband of all people to have.

“Hyunjin,” you gushed, a smug, shit-eating grin plastered across your face. “What is this?”

He blushed – violently. You watched, fascinated, as a warm flush suffused his skin, painting his ears, his cheeks, his chest a pretty, vibrant shade of red.

“It-it was just a bet! Jisung dared me to get it a little while ago, and I didn’t want to chicken out…”

You couldn’t take your eyes off the piercing. It was the first time you’d ever seen anything like it on a man, but it just fit Hyunjin – your elegant, beautiful husband – so well.

It looked so breathtakingly, so devastatingly sexy on him that you just had to do something about it.

You tapped his thighs, and Hyunjin obediently parted his legs for you, eagerly anticipating what you would be doing next. As you prowled down between his thighs, you kneeled, bending so that you had easy access to his lower stomach – and his crotch.

“Does it hurt at all? Like is it sore or anything?”

“No, I don’t think s-oh!” Hyunjin broke off in a loud gasp when your tongue immediately made contact with the taut skin of his belly button, softly licking a wet stripe around the cold piece of metal.

“Tell me if anything I do hurts or bothers it, okay?” Hyunjin quickly nodded before he was forced to fling an arm across his face, moaning as you went to town on him.

You had to work the skin of his stomach a little hard to get the beautiful purple bruises you wanted, but it didn’t seem like Hyunjin minded very much at all. To the contrary, his moans only started getting more and more breathy, more high-pitched as you worked your magic, painting the hollows of his abs with marks of your love.

Once you were satisfied with your artwork, you turned again to that tempting, tantalizing little piercing. You looked up to meet Hyunjin’s gaze, watch his half-lidded, tortured eyes as you softly flicked at the metal bar with your tongue before gently suckling the metal beads at either end.

“How does that feel?” You asked, smirking as you saw Hyunjin panting above you; while you waited for him to catch his breath, you gently massaged the jewelry with your fingertips, feeling his muscles tense and relax under your touch.

“Really, really good – really fucking good,” he moaned out, still on edge from the sensation of your hands on his stomach; so close – but so far – from where he needed them the most.

“But…”

“But what, love?” You asked, teasingly emphasizing the pet name he always used for you. “Is there something you want from me, hmm?”

You smirked to yourself, knowing exactly what Hyunjin needed from you.

Languidly, lazily, you danced your fingers in patterns around his belly button, swooping lower and lower with each pass. The closer you got to Hyunjin’s waistband, the heavier his breathing got.

You fingered the edge of his pants, eyes drawn to the sizable tent struggling against the tight leather. Your curiosity – and desire to keep tormenting Hyunjin – overcame your shyness, so you deliberately traced your fingers over the fabric, moving downwards until your palm rested firmly against his bulge.

It felt…intriguing, a seemingly odd combination of softness and hardness, clearly straining to escape its increasingly tight confines. Biting your lip in curiosity, in desire, you gave it a singular, inquisitive squeeze.

Hyunjin let out his most plaintive moan yet at the added, tortuous pressure, desperate for some relief from the tension. “Please, love, just please…”

“Please what, Hyunjin? You need to tell me what I should do for you, angel.”

You knew you were playing with fire, that you were pushing Hyunjin’s limits with all of your mocking and teasing. But seeing him squirming under you, so obedient, so desperate for your touch – you were willing to get burned for it.

“T-take off my pants,” he groaned out. “Please.”

“There we go,” you smirked, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the skin right above the fabric before bringing your fingers to his pants, swiftly untying the laces and working them and his stockings down his slender hips and legs.

You softly gasped as his length popped free, slapping against his stomach and making Hyunjin hiss in relief. While you had nothing to really compare it to, only two words came to mind for some reason: large, much larger than the fingers he’d fucked you with before – and pretty, just like literally everything else about him. You gently ran your thumb over the weeping, red tip, making Hyunjin moan from sensitivity as you collected the clear fluid on your fingertip.

Hyunjin’s eyes watched you darkly as you brought your finger to your mouth, darting your tongue out to seductively lap the droplets up. You shivered under the intensity of his gaze, a niggling sense at the back of your mind that you were operating on borrowed time. Yes, your husband had seemed more than content to let you have your way with him, giving into all of your teasing and little cruelties with soft, plaintive moans – until now. You had a foreboding feeling that you were steadily approaching the edge, the point after which your world would be flipped again, and your husband would get payback for every groan, every whine you’d wrung out of him – and more.

You tentatively lowered your head once again to Hyunjin’s length, your confidence much lower than before. You were in completely uncharted waters here, so you weren’t sure of what you should do next, how you could best please him.

“If you want, you could spit on it, angel, and then use your hand to work it up and down.” You jerked your head up to see Hyunjin staring down at you, propped against the pillows with a carefully neutral expression on his face.

You realized that, having picked up on your uncertainty, he was giving you the power to decide how your dynamic should evolve from here – whether you would continue to be in charge, dictating his pleasure – or whether he could slowly start taking back over again.

It was such a thoughtful, such a Hyunjin thing for him to do that your heart couldn’t help but melt.

You lunged up into his arms, Hyunjin huffing as he caught you against his chest, a searching but warm look in his eyes. Running your hands up the side of his face, you brought him down for a sweet, tender kiss – no nipping, no biting, just a slow tasting and enjoying of one another. When the two of you finally broke apart, Hyunjin pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, waiting for you to show him how you wanted to go from here.

You didn’t even have to hesitate.

Keeping your eyes locked with his, you wrapped your hand around his wrist, bringing his large, warm palm to the softness of your stomach. From there, you guided his hand to drag up your body bit by bit, passing over your ribcage, through the valley between your breasts, and over your chest, until it arrived at your neck. There, you leaned your head back, allowing him to fully wrap his hand around your throat, the gentle pressure drawing a moan out of your lips.

When you looked back up at him, Hyunjin’s eyes were dark, a small smirk starting to pull at his lips. He deliberately dragged his thumb across the soft skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine, before pulling away from you, leaning back serenely against the pillows.

“I think I asked you to do something for me, sweetheart?”

And he was back.

Judging from the volume of Hyunjin’s moans, from the way his thighs clenched and seized under your hands – you were doing a pretty good job for your first time pleasuring a man.

Hyunjin had quickly taught you what he liked: wet, sloppy kisses to the head; long, languid licks up and down the underside, fast bobs up and down with your mouth while thoroughly tonguing his shaft. Now, he had his fingers tangled up in your hair, working your mouth over his length with firm, but gentle strokes.

“You’re doing so well for me, love,” he moaned out, the feeling of your warm, wet mouth around his cock driving him to distraction.

“Do you like me using you like this, just for my pleasure?” Looking up at him from underneath your eyelashes, you nodded as best as you could, mouth still stuffed full with his cock.

Hyunjin couldn’t help but groan at the sight of you, enthralled by just how fucked out you looked – your wide, teary eyes; drool slowly dripping from the side of your mouth.

“Well, we’re going to have to stop now, angel, unless we want to bring the night to an end too early,” he laughed, gently easing your head off his dick. Once free, you couldn’t help but cough; while your mouth missed the weight of his length, your jaw was sore from hanging open for so long.

Hyunjin’s thumbs came up to your face, softly rubbing your cheeks and jaw to try and ease the strain. He watched you closely with tender eyes.

“Do you need a second, angel?”

You vehemently shook your head. “No!” Hyunjin watched you, amused, as you crawled back up to his side, placing your hand on his chest. “I want more.”

“You want more?” Hyunjin eyed you, a devilish glint in his eyes, as he leaned closer. 

“You know, you really were so mean to me earlier, love,” his gaze bore into you as he ever so slowly, tauntingly traced his fingertips up your arm, leaving goosebumps trailing in the wake of his touch.

“And I deserve some retribution, don’t you think?” His fingers had now made it up to your shoulders, heat pooling between your thighs at his words, at the hypnotic feeling of his hand dragging across your chest, straying teasingly close to where you wanted his touch – but leaving you hanging.

You nodded mutely, the sarcastic fire from before gone as you willingly, needily submitted to him, letting him lay you down against the sheets. You couldn’t care less about being in charge – you just craved, ached for the pleasure you knew he could bring you.

But, as Hyunjin prowled over you – his lean, lithe body reminding you of a panther, slyly stalking its prey – you knew you were in for a rough night.

Keeping his body propped up on his hands, depriving you of the gratification of feeling him against you, he leaned his head down to yours, tonguing at the shell of your ear. Smiling at the sound of your whimpers, he softly, sensually whispered to you.

“Well – don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

And with that, he caught your lips up in a searing, fiery kiss as he pressed his weight down onto you, your two bodies finally entangled in blissful skin-to-skin contact. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let everything slip away that wasn’t him: the heat of his skin against yours, the feeling of his supple flesh, his lean muscle under your hands – the delicious slide of his hard cock, trying to nestle itself into your slickening folds. He had you trapped in a sea of sensation, and he wasn’t going to let you escape any time soon.

“Look at me, angel.” Your eyes flickered open at the sound of his breathy voice, only to be greeted with a sight straight from heaven – or hell – itself.

Hyunjin – his thick hair, mussed and even more wild after your exertions; lips, bruised and plumped up; his eyes, black with lust and hunger.

“Watch me take you apart, love – keep your eyes on me.” And watch you did – you took in the sinfully gorgeous image of his delicate, pianist’s hands torturing your breasts, squeezing them until the flesh overflowed between his fingers. You watched his fingertips, teasingly dancing over the tender bruises he’d painted your chest with, making you whimper at the added pressure. You watched him lower his mouth to your poor, chafed-up nipple, the wet heat of his tongue alternately soothing the pain and riling you up even more. And you watched his eyes, such dark promise, such tempting sin swirling in his gaze that you wondered whether you’d make it through the night in one piece.

“How are you so pretty, my queen?” You shivered as Hyunjin started trailing one of his hands downwards, the cool metal of his bracelets dragging against your skin, making a delicious contrast with the heat of his wet kisses. Instead of heading between your legs however, you were surprised to feel his hand traveling to your side, grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand to his lips.

What was he doing? You had no idea what your husband was planning as he pressed a tender kiss to the back of your hand, the action sending familiar tingles through you.

“I want to try something with you, my love. Do you trust me?” Almost before the words were even completely out of Hyunjin’s mouth, you nodded firmly, bringing a warm smile to his lips.

“I’m glad, angel. Now, what I want to do is…” he squeezed your hand tightly in his as he shifted, his toned thighs flexing powerfully as he moved to kneel between your legs.

He reached up to hold your chin, forcing you to keep your eyes directly on his. “I want you to touch yourself for me, love. I want you to feel how tight your pretty little pussy is, how wet and ready it is for me.” He leaned up to press a sweet kiss to your lips, staying close so he could read your expression.

“Is that something you’d want to do?”

“Y-yeah, I want to.” You’d do anything he asked of you. You’d do anything to put that dimpled smile onto his face, to make his beautiful brown eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Good. But before we do that…”

Hyunjin gently folded down your three shorter fingers, leaving just your index and middle fingers standing. Then, he slowly, deliberately brought your fingers to his lips, letting your fingerpads just barely graze their plush surface - before taking them into his mouth.

You would never have thought that such a simple act could be so erotic, but here you were: moaning, heart pounding, slick pooling between your thighs as Hyunjin suckled your fingers, licking and slicking them up with his hot, wet tongue.

Letting your fingers go with a wet smack, Hyunjin guided your hand down to your soaking pussy.

“Now, push them in for me, angel – yes, just like that…” Your pussy, aching for any kind of relief, ate up your fingers with barely any resistance.

Shoving his shoulders back down between your thighs, Hyunjin spread your legs wide open, greedily eyeing your tight hole as you pumped your fingers in and out, steadily fucking it open for him. 

You couldn’t help but let your other hand trail down to your core as well, drawn like a magnet to your neglected, throbbing clit. It felt strangely intense, uniquely vulnerable, to be playing with yourself like this, under his watchful eye – at his command. It definitely felt good, and the heat of his gaze on you, following your every movement, only added to the pleasure. 

But – you couldn’t keep your mind from wandering, thinking back to earlier – just how good it felt when it was him doing these things to you. His fingers. His tongue.

Hyunjin watched, smiling to himself, as you steadily worked your hand and rubbed increasingly frantic circles into your clit, but all to no avail – you just couldn’t recreate his magic.

You paused at the sound of Hyunjin’s voice, addressing you with just a hint of smugness.

“It isn’t enough for you, is it?” You shook your head no, slightly disappointed that you weren’t able to pleasure yourself like he wanted you to. You made to pull your fingers out of yourself, but Hyunjin stopped you with a firm hand on your wrist.

Ghosting his other hand down over your thighs, he slowly gathered up the slick dripping out of you, using it to thoroughly lube up his own fingers. As you realized what he wanted to do, you couldn’t help but moan, heat rising in you at the thought of feeling that full.

“I’m going to go very slowly, okay sweetheart? If it hurts, I’ll stop right away.”

You mewled as you felt his fingers ever-so-carefully, gently push into your pussy. Your walls, still relaxed from your orgasm before, gave easily to the intrusion, letting his fingers slide in right beside yours.

You bit your lip, your free hand digging into Hyunjin’s shoulder as you felt, for the first time, what it was like to be so stretched out, so open.

You realized, with a pleasurable clench, that his dick would stretch you out even more.

Now, it was Hyunjin’s turn to moan, cock twitching as he felt your walls clamp down on his fingers.

“F-fuck, sweetheart – your pussy likes being filled up, doesn’t it?” He pumped his fingers, once, twice, before pulling out, bringing them to his mouth to clean up.

“Mmmh – still tastes delicious too.” He licked them clean, looking like Eros incarnate, before placing his hands by your head, caging you in underneath him.

“You sure you still want my cock, angel?” He covered your body with his once again, pressing sweet, tender kisses all over your face as you cradled his hips between your legs. “You can still say no; I’d die a happy man even if I just spent the rest of the night with my face between your thighs.”

You giggled – and creamed, just a little, at the thought of him doing exactly that, all night long. Some day.

“Hyunjin,” you savored the feeling of his name – the name of your lover – on your lips. “I really, really want you.”

A blindingly bright smile on his face, Hyunjin swooped down to catch your lips in a thorough, toe-tingling kiss before parting your legs further, opening you up for him. Propping himself on one hand above you, he quickly jerked himself to full hardness, teasing your entrance with wide swipes of his broad, soft head.

“Hyun-jiin,” you whimpered, approaching your limit. “Please, don’t tease me,” you whined, increasingly desperate for him to take care of you, to fill you up.

“Yes, my lady.” And with one last kiss to your palm, one last squeeze of your hip, he slowly pushed himself into you, groans falling from both your lips as each inch after delicious inch sank into your needy, leaking pussy.

He’d prepared you so thoroughly, pleasured you so meticulously that the stretch, deep as it was, felt nothing but divine. Your eyes rolled back into your head, a broken moan spilling from your lips as he seated himself fully in your cunt.

You heard Hyunjin curse under his breath as he felt your tight, slick walls enveloping him, the desire to thrust and pound and fuck making him almost tremble with the strain of holding himself back.

“Let m-me know when I can move, love.” And he just held himself there, panting, as he waited for your approval.

“Please, Hyunjin – move.”

“But…” you trailed off.

Your husband was an angel – a considerate, loving angel. You appreciated him thoughtfully checking in with you like this – you genuinely did.

At the same time though…you wanted your hypersexual, aggressive, teasing Hyunjin back for a bit. And you knew what to do to bring him out.

With the lightest, most delicate of touches, you ran your fingertips up the taut, defined muscles of his lower abs to his belly button, stopping to play with that damned piercing. Mustering up your most coy expression, you looked at him through your eyelashes, softly biting your lower lip.

“I thought you were supposed to be punishing me…my lord.”

You watched as Hyunjin closed his eyes for a second, clearly trying to get a grip on himself. “Angel…I was going to go easy on you…be sweet to my little virgin for her first time.” His hands fisted in the bedsheets, twisting them up into his grip. 

“But – but I should have known…that you just want to be fucked.” He punctuated the last word with a brutal thrust, one that made you almost scream in pleasure – and immediately crave more.

“Do it then – fuck me.”

And with that, you broke the very last string of Hyunjin’s tenuous self-control.

With a growl, he pinned your hips down with one hand, slowly pulling almost all the way out of you – only to ram back in, making you gasp in surprise – and toe-curling pleasure.

His pace was dizzying: fast, hard bounces – so hard that you were sure your poor pussy would be bruised from the force of his thrusts – punctuated by periods of slow, deep rolls, the deliberate drag of his cock against your tight walls driving you absolutely crazy. His toned, muscular hips rocked into you, pubic bone brushing up against your swollen clit with every delicious crash of his hips into yours.

As your moans continued to crescendo, hands desperately grasping at his shoulders for some stability, some level of purchase, you felt his hand leave your hip, fingers moving to tap at your cheek. You opened your eyes to find Hyunjin gazing down at you with a cat-like, almost unhinged smirk on his face, still steadily rutting into you at the same, punishing pace.

“Oh no, my sweet, sweet angel – is this too much for you, hmm?” Hyunjin mockingly cooed at you, wrapping his hand around your chin and squeezing your cheeks, making you look up into his face.

“N-no,” you forced out – and you were being honest. It felt so good – too good – but you were going to spontaneously combust if he stopped.

“Really?” He raised a curious eyebrow, a dangerous smile settling onto his face as he pulled out of you, leaving you whimpering at the emptiness. “Well – we’ll just have to fix that then, won’t we?”

In sudden, aggressive movements, he yanked your hips into his and grabbed your right leg, hoisting it onto his shoulder. Leaning down on top of you, and pushing your knee almost to your shoulder, he spread you wide open for him, placed your fingers back onto your clit – and immediately speared you back onto his cock.

Hyunjin knew he wasn’t going to last for much longer – it had been way too long for him, and you felt way too good around him. But he was determined to take you down with him – by any means necessary.

So, he proceeded to pound you into the mattress, balls slapping into your pussy with every thrust. You could hear the bed creaking wildly under you as Hyunjin rammed into you, driving you both towards your peaks at a breakneck pace. You rubbed at your clit furiously, so lost in sensation that you couldn’t process conscious thought anymore – couldn’t process anything other than him.

“I-I’m getting c-close, Hyunjin – s-so close,” you wailed, feeling that familiar, welcome cord knotting itself up in your belly. “Then let go,” he squeezed out, maintaining that same, punishing pace to get you to release. “Come all over me, angel – let me feel you milk my cock.”

The cord snapped – and you came violently, so hard that you almost jerked out of Hyunjin’s arms. Your thigh muscles, your hip muscles were all pulsing, contracting and releasing with such intensity that your body was shaking, your mind lost to the pleasure.

Hyunjin had slowed down as you hit your peak, letting you ride out your high, just watching in awe as you trembled and gasped prettily under him.

Even after you’d finally fallen still, your body feeling like jelly, still twitching here and there from sensitivity – your pussy was still spasming, convulsing around him – and Hyunjin couldn’t take it any longer.

Muttering soft, heartfelt apologies to you, he roughly splayed your legs out for him again, and started slamming into you once again. “Just a little longer, angel, just a little bit.”

Of course, you didn’t mind at all. It was now your turn to stare at him, admire his beauty as he single-mindedly, lustfully chased his high: his pink tongue, darting out to lick at his lips; his thick neck, on prominent display as he threw his head back in pleasure – you didn’t think any other man could look as sensual, as exquisite as your Hyunjin.

When the fluid motion of his hips started to stutter, you knew he was close; to help him along, you used your remaining energy to clench down around his cock.

Hyunjin gasped. You felt his length go rigid inside you, drawing a tired moan from your lips, before he exploded with one final thrust, spurts of thick, white cum filling you up, splashing against your walls. You whimpered at the sensation, overwhelmed – you hadn’t anticipated just how warm his cum would feel, the added heat feeling delicious inside your sore, battered pussy.

Hyunjin collapsed onto you, his arms too tired to hold up his weight any longer. You pulled him into your chest, letting him nuzzle into your breasts as he caught his breath. His cock was still buried inside of you, slowly softening as he relaxed – you found that you liked the warm, full pressure.

“Ugh,” Hyunjin tore himself away from your chest with difficulty, rubbing his face as he sat up. “I made you so messy, angel – let me clean you up, it must be uncomfortable.”

You were going to disagree, telling him that you felt perfectly fine, but your words turned into a whine, both of you wincing in sensitivity as Hyunjin pulled out of you. Hyunjin’s eyes widened as his cum started dripping out of you as a result, running down all over your folds.

“Mine,” he muttered possessively. “All mine,” he looked up at you, the heat in his gaze almost tempting you to push him down all over again – almost. Instead, you let Hyunjin drag himself out of bed, getting a pleasant eyeful of his pert, shapely ass as he wet a washcloth to clean you up with.

“Like what you see?” Hyunjin grinned down at you, leaning over you to gently wipe you clean.

“Very, very much,” you smiled back, running your fingers through his hair as you watched him take care of you so lovingly.

Once he was done, you yanked him back down next to you, curling into him and his warmth like you’d never let go again.

“Was that good for you, love?” Hyunjin asked quietly, head buried in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry if I was too rough or intense or –”

“Hyunjin.” You put a warning hand on his back, stopping him from going on. “It was perfect. You were perfect.”

You felt his lips curl into a smile against your skin, his arms pulling you in even tighter. The two of you lay there quietly for a moment, just enjoying each other’s warmth.

“In that case then…” Hyunjin lifted his head, gazing straight at you with a teasing glint in his eyes, running his fingers up and down the soft skin of your waist.

“Round 2?”

Your mouth dropped open, and Hyunjin immediately cracked up at the look on your face. As his face scrunched up in laughter, you smacked his shoulder, pushing him away in mock outrage.

“Not unless you want me to pass out on you, Hyunjin!”

“But what if I do?” You hated yourself for the shiver that passed through you, at the flicker of heat in your veins. You were going to hold him to that – one day. But for now, you were going to sleep. So, you rolled onto your other side, turning away from your tease of a husband with a dramatic huff.

But, of course, he wasn’t just going to leave you like that. You smiled to yourself as you felt toned arms wrap around you, pulling you back into Hyunjin’s warmth. “I’m sorry, love,” he giggled into your ear, pressing placating kisses to your neck and shoulder. “I’m just messing with you. I know you’re probably tired and sore…and anyways,” he ducked his head into your neck again, piping up with a small, shy voice.

“Right now, I think I’d rather learn what it feels like to have you fall asleep in my arms, if that’s okay.”

And that was perfectly, perfectly fine with you. 

For a short while, at least.

In reality, Round 2 ended up being your fault. Hyunjin had wanted to stay cuddled as the two of you slept, you the little spoon to his big spoon. But, when you woke up in the middle of the night to the pleasurable feeling of his length half-hard against your ass, you couldn’t help but grind back on to him, waking him up with your moans as his cock brushed through your folds.

He ended up just taking you in that position, propping your leg up on his arm as he fucked you from behind, growling into your ear about how desperate and naughty you were for him. He filled you up, yet again, and this time, the two of you just fell asleep connected like that, too tired to clean up or do anything else.

The third “round” though – if you could even call it that – was all Hyunjin; you woke up in the dim light of early morning, already dripping, to find your husband laying between your legs and unwilling to move until you’d released onto his mouth – twice.

There probably could have been a fourth round too, in all honesty. But, when you both woke up for the final time, bright morning light streaming into your chambers, you found that you were content just holding each other, exchanging soft, heartfelt kisses and staring into each other’s eyes. 

After all, this was your first morning together – just the first of many, many more to come.

You and Hyunjin both limped into breakfast the next morning with bloodshot eyes and matching scarves tied closely around your necks. You did your best to mask your wince as you sat down, sore and tender beyond belief from your husband’s incredibly thorough attentions, but you weren’t entirely sure if you succeeded.

Minho looked like he didn’t know whether he should throttle you or Hyunjin first.

Chan, despite all his snark and bluster beforehand, couldn’t look either of you in the face. Ironically, he somehow had been forced into taking guard himself outside your chambers last night – and he’d heard enough to keep his ears flaming bright red around the two of you – permanently.

And the rest of the boys just seemed fit to burst.

Jisung kicked it off, opening his round eyes wide in a display of fake innocence. “Oh no, did you not sleep well, Your Majesties? They do say parts of the castle are haunted you know…with all of this weird moaning and things going bump in the night.” Felix, leaning against the wall at your side, couldn’t hold back a snicker; a dark, ominous glare from Hyunjin, however, quickly shut him up.

“That’s ridiculous, Han – you know the castle isn’t haunted.” You gave Seungmin one of your most charming smiles, thinking that maybe he was on your side this time – but you should have known better.

“I’m just worried about your health, Your Highness. I mean – scarves? In this weather? The only way that makes sense is if you’re both getting sick – and in that case, you should probably be back in bed.”

This time, it was Jeongin who cracked up, trying to hide his smirk behind a serving tray. Hyunjin glared at him too, but it didn’t faze Jeongin at all. You were honestly impressed.

Either way, your husband had clearly had enough.

“Shut up, right now, or I’ll throw each and every one of you in the stocks for a week…yes, even you, Minho, I don’t care if it starts a war.” Hyunjin’s ever expressive face was positively seething with annoyance – if glares could kill, all of you would have been incinerated.

You, however, just found it all funny at this point. While you tried to be serious, maintaining an appropriately stern expression at Hyunjin’s side, you couldn’t help but let a small giggle escape. Hyunjin’s eyes snapped to you, face contorted into his best “you too?” expression; but, at the happiness on your face, he couldn’t hold back a grin either. Looking on, the boys decided to pipe down, secretly pleased to see the two of you so happy together.

As Seungmin roped Hyunjin into a discussion about new letters and updates, you turned to your brother, who was sitting on your other side, and softly slid your hand over his.

“Minho…do you have to go so soon?” You’d been startled when Hyunjin told you, on your way to breakfast, that Minho was planning to leave almost immediately afterwards.

“Yeah, I really should.” Minho looked at you, a wistful smile on his face. “As much as I want to stay with you and Hyunjin for a while, I know I shouldn’t antagonize them too much.” You knew he was right – still, it really, really hurt to think about him going.  

The two of you sat quietly for a second, hands clasped together tightly.

“But honestly, I’m not worried.” Minho paused, a small, soft smile on his face as he looked between you and Hyunjin.

“I think you’re in good hands here.”

A matching smile crept onto your face as well as you turned to contemplate your husband. While Hyunjin was still engrossed in his conversation, he still somehow managed to pick up on your thoughtful glance. Covertly, under the table, he slid his hand into your lap, holding your free hand and rubbing his thumb over your palm: a quiet acknowledgement of you, and a small modicum of comfort before he could see to you fully.

Yes, you smiled to yourself, squeezing Hyunjin’s hand tightly in your own. You were in really good hands.

[bukojuiice]

get you.

ೃ pairing: (husband! executive levi ackerman x wifey! reader)

ೃ  warnings: nsfw (18+) - the rest of the tags are below the cut! c:

ೃ genre: smut

ೃ word count: 2,696 words

ೃ  my nav  →  my college au! eren x fem! reader (fluff)

ೃ song inspo: get you by daniel caesar ft. kali uchis

ೃ  please do reblog if you enjoyed!! it really helps writers and content creators on tumblr! (feel free to add tags too because i love reading them and my heart swells with happiness when people love my work!)

ೃ “visit your husband at work” day is an actual event that happens every 3rd Thursday of the month at the company Levi works in. however, after he’s become too focused on the workload for the day and you’ve grown impatient as he wasn’t paying attention to you at all, you had to find a way to grab his attention. 

additional tags: fem dom! reader, slight bondage, sub! levi then a dramatic shift to dom! levi 

hope you enjoy reading!

Today is the 3rd Thursday of the month.

Which meant “Visit your Husband at Work” Day.

No. Like, it was literally an actual holiday that existed in the company.

One of Levi’s fellow executives, Hange Zoe, created a whole-ass holiday just so to tease you and Levi.

Not that it was a problem though, it was always so fun to watch your husband work so sternly and seriously. Even if he ignored you most of the time, especially when you were being annoying and were asking too many questions.

This month’s iteration of the holiday though… left much to be desired.

Your ever so busy husband promised you a lunch date at one of the swankiest restaurants in the business district, however he was so swarmed with papers, business plans, and taking calls from important clients that could he not take 1 hour out of his day just to spend time with you and keep the spirit of this “holiday” alive?

It really doesn’t make any sense. He could relay the client calls to his secretary, Eren, for an hour and a half, then once he gets back, he could go through them and call them back again.

Was it that hard to do?

Despite your many pleas of asking him to just stop working for a few minutes and eat some take out McDonald’s chicken nuggets with you, he still refuses to do so. He even remarked about how unhealthy they were, but you corrected him by telling him that it was alright to eat from time to time at least.  

The whole chicken nuggets exchange you had with him, put you into an even more sour mood.

Before he could even ask where you were about to go, you stormed out of his office, trying to get a reaction from him, so that he would try and make it up you. However, that did not happen and your romantic fantasy of Levi holding you by the wrist, whispering huskily into your ear, not wanting you to leave was not achieved.

So, you then head over to Hange’s office where they were eating lunch with their secretary, Moblit, and surprisingly, the company’s very own Erwin Smith, the CEO of Survey Corp. (get it? Because survey corps? Mwahahaah ok I’ll see myself out)

This got you even more confused, because why are both Hange and Erwin able to eat lunch so casually whilst your husband is so tense and stressed about all the paper works that he has to go through?

“AHH! Ms (Y/N)!” Hange beams at you as soon as they see you enter the room. “What brings you here? Does Levi not want to leave his office again?” They giggled. You greet the three of them back with a wave, but a sad smile present on your face. Erwin raises his eyebrow at you in worry.

“Ms (Y/N), is everything alright?” The blonde man asks worriedly, taking another sip of his afternoon tea. “Did you get into a fight with our most loved and hardworking executive?” He teases, trying to keep the atmosphere light and carefree.

“That’s the problem actually.” You laugh exasperatedly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “He promised me that we would go out for lunch, but he didn’t commit and told me he was caught up in a lot of business calls, and he didn’t want to miss any of them as they were very important.”

“Oh? He can just give them to Eren though. They aren’t extremely important calls. We’re not even trying to bag some huge business deal right now. I told Levi to loosen up a bit, but he continues to want to see through with everything.”

You breathe out an irritated sigh, crossing your arms in disappointment. “I’ll be going back to his office now. I’ll be talking to my husband about this and his workaholic tendencies.” You bite your lip, trying to muster a smile, waving goodbye and leaving as soon as you arrived.

“Aw. I wasn’t able to ask if she wanted some sashimi.” Hange pouts, holding a small paper bag that contained the premium dish. “Erwinnn should I go after her?”

“Nope. Don’t.” Erwin shakes his head, laughing, clearly in a very good mood.

“Huh!? Why can’t I-“

Erwin gives them a knowing look, raising his eyebrow suggestively as if referring to something.

“Ohhhh.”

You arrive back at Levi’s office, your arms crossed, waiting for the raven-haired man to greet you. The man you know and love so well, was still very much engrossed with the materials and blueprints he was reading.

He looks up at you then goes back to what he was doing.

You lock the door behind you and then proceed to sit at the long velvety couch situated in the middle of Levi’s huge ass office. Your arms remain crossed, so were your legs as you begin to read a random book laying on the coffee table.

Levi steals some quick glances at you from time to time and your petty self pretends that you don’t notice him doing so.

You hear him sigh and take off his black rimmed glasses that he only wears during work. He then rubs his temples and clear his throat, to try and get your attention.

“(Y/N) love, I know you’re disappointed over the fact I didn’t push through with our lunch plans. I know that you know how much I love you but this is a very important-“

You stand up from the couch and throw the book carelessly to the table. Approaching him with a rather alluring aura surrounding you, your husband giving you a puzzled look as you arrive in front of his table.

He stands up, thinking you were about to envelop him in a hug and accept his apology until…

You grip the lapels of his suit and yank Levi hard against you.

“Prove it.”

Your lips clash with his. Kissing him with every ounce of frustration and heat in your body. But even as Levi’s arms come around you, holding you flush against him, he suddenly pulls back with a questioning look on his face.

“(Y/N)…”

“Maybe you might be too busy for this too Mr. Ackerman.”

You push his jacket off his shoulders before your fingers slide along the back of his neck as you guide his wet, hungry mouth back to yours.

Levi spins you around, pushing your back against the cold glass of the windowpane, the beautiful city skyline as your backdrop whilst you make love? It was perfect.

He lifts your wrists up above your head, holding it there with one hand while the other explores your body, caressing the skin he could touch even though you were still fully clothed.

“Levi…”

You feel exposed in a way that makes your pulse race, the intensity and the heat between the two of you continue to escalate as his fingers find a strip of bare skin at your waist, then slide up beneath your clothes to trace the curve of your breast. He continues fondling it whilst his other hand slowly unbuttons your blouse, revealing the beauty that was your upper body. Levi takes in the view, breathing

You arch your back, pressing your body against him. His tongue continues to tangle  with yours, and he moans into your mouth.

“Can you even get back to work after this?”

“It depends how much you can keep me busy.”

Levi picks you up easily in his arms. You lock your legs around his waist as he carries you across the office.  He sweeps everything off his desk with a loud crash and lays you down.

Again, you were seeing a different version of him. Not only was it not typical of him to be careless and thrashing things around like this, but the way you can feel his heart beat and his emotions just by these gestures and the two of you haven’t even arrived at the good part yet.

Your head swims, going wild over the thought of what the two of you could end up doing as he unfastens your clothes and throws them across the room. Very out of character for a man who wants to be clean and organized all the time.

His lips trail kisses all over your body, pausing to skim his teeth along your side, caressing each soft spot, turning you on even more.

“I want to eat you up…” He whispers, continuing to smother you with all the love that he can give, touching you everywhere he can.

You look down your body at him, taking in the intense look in his eyes. You want him…

But you also want to make him pay for how he treated you today.

“You have to earn that privilege, Mr. Ackerman.”

You sit up from the desk, pushing him back lightly.

“(Y/N)…”

“You’ve been a naughty boy, Levi.” You wink at him, sucking your finger and waving it in front of him. “And you know what that means…”

“I’m going to tie you up.”

Levi, lets out a soft curse, as you hop down from the desk and motion for him to take a seat behind it. He has no choice but to follow you, albeit a bit surprised as this was something new that the two of you haven’t experience yet. He starts to move around the desk when you call out to him.

“Wait.”

You lean in and skim your fingers over the exposed skin of his chest, then tug lightly on the open flap of his shirt.

“I don’t want to have to deal with this later.” You wink at him again, running your fingers through his abs, caressing them, and you know that something was stimulating inside of your raven-haired lover.

Levi then quickly strips out of the rest of his clothes, then takes a seat in his office chair, arms on the armrests.

You grab a spare cord from one of his desk drawers, then tie his wrist to the chair. You do the same for his other hand, letting your fingers trail along his bare body, noticing the bulging erection in his pants before you step back and admire your handiwork.

“Aren’t you a sight?” You tease him, your husband smirks and shakes his head at how you were the one showing dominance this time around.

Levi tries to reach for you but stops when he pulls against the cords. He sits back with a pout.

“This isn’t fair.” He cursed under his breath. “I want to touch you.”

“Oh… you want to talk about not fair? What have you been doing all morning then?”

You lean over the chair, careful not to touch him, to try and tease him even more. You let your breasts idle near his face… so close, you can feel his breath ghost over your skin. He visibly gulps.

“And now you’re being punished for it.”

You hop back on the desk, facing Levi. You spread your legs so he can see every inch of you, you hear him gulp again and you were loving the attention as you slip your fingers under your panties.

“Tch…” He cursed under his breath.

Your head lulls back as you let the pleasure course through your veins, trying your best to stop yourself from mewling in pleasure. You call out his name, as if imagining that you were pleasuring yourself whilst he wasn’t around. “A-ah…”

Touching yourself in front of Levi is a power trip like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. You can barely control your movements as your hips buck up. You continue to rub your clit in a circular motion. Your husband continues to watch.

Levi licks his lips as he struggles against his restraints. You slow your fingers as you consider him…

“Hmm… have you been punished enough yet?”

“No… but I can’t make it up to you properly unless you let me touch you.” He continues to breathe heavily, still trying to free himself from the restraints.

Selfishly, you know he’s right. You reach out to untie the cords, and he’s all over you, quickly pressing your body onto his, before the ropes even fall to the ground. Levi continues to kiss you deeply, pressing you back against the desk as his hands work your panties down your thighs.

“I haven’t been able to think about anything else all day. I know we could have just done this at home.”

“And now? What do you think is the point of this work holiday?”

His fingers make their way back up your bare legs, stroking you teasingly.  “And now… I can barely control myself. I want to devour you.”

You lean back and let your legs fall open as wide as they can. You fight back a blush as he hungrily takes in every inch of you. Levi bows at your feet, lowering his mouth between your thighs and working his tongue against you. He slowly licks the inside curves of your pussy, taking in every inch of you. He continues to make work of exploring your insides by a finger, pushing it in and out.

You shiver and grip the desk, reeling from the sensation.

“Levi!”

“If you want me to make this up to you properly, then you can’t come yet.” He stops for a second, now it was his turn to tease you.

“Can you do that, Ms. Ackerman? Can you hold back until I tell you?” Levi punctuates his question with a devilish twirl of his tongue, and you gasp.

“Yes. I can.”

“I can take whatever you have to give. Don’t hold back.”

Levi smirks at you, and you know he’ll rise to the challenge. He licks his lips… then dips his head and licks you. His tongue continues to ravish you, deeply and heavily, unrelenting.

“A-ah I’m going to!“ You mewl, your hands looking for something to grasp.

“Already? I thought you said you could take it?”

Your body trembles as he sucks and nips on your nipples, leading you toward the brink. He makes his tongue rigid as it flicks against your clit. You lift your head enough to see Levi’s hand working between his legs, touching his cock in rhythm with you as he groans out your name.

“L-levi…” You gesture him to enter you, your finger pointing down as your breath continues to hitch, craving more for him.

He slowly enters as if teasing you, and you feel your juices stimulate as you become one with him. He continues to thrust in, shifting from a normal to a fast pace, still relentlessly teasing you. How the tables have turned.

Levi’s pace grows even faster and faster, it was as if his dick was enlarging inside of you too. Your moans were in sync with his and with one final thrust…

That’s all it takes. Your body clenches, and you fly over the edge, ecstasy crashing over you.

You both exchange your I love you’s, leaning in for one last kiss as you feel the last pump enter inside you.

Levi slowly holds you and helps you down from the desk. It was such a smooth release that not one drop fell onto the desk. If it did though, his clean freak tendencies would probably show by now.

“Let’s clean up. I have a meeting at 3.” He says, still catching his breath, picking up his clothes that he threw from the other side of the room.

“So… you’re telling me that we can still have our lunch date!?” Your eyes lit up; the raven-haired man offers to help you clip your bra.

“Yes. Then let’s go to the spa after.” He smiles, combing a hand through your hair, kissing your shoulder before you finish wearing your blouse again.

“Does that mean we can also do it in the spa?” You ask, suggestively.

“No.”

“Aw. You’re no fun.”

Fin.

me after writing this and as i hit post now:

[theladyofdeath]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 20}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby’s blogs! >> @snelbz​​ 

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

A/N: 18+, mature readers only, nsfw.

Cassian moved before he’d even realized what he was doing.

His lips met Nesta’s before he could think better of it, and the second their mouths met, he was done for. 

One time.

They had agreed that the last time would be the one and only time.

And yet, when he kissed her, she fell into him and her arms wrapped around his neck. 

He stepped closer, closing that small space between them, and pressed his body up against hers as he lifted her up and set her on the counter. 

Bracing his hands on each side of Nesta’s ass, her legs wrapped firmly around his waist. 

They’d been dancing around this for days, weeks even, and Cassian wouldn’t have been lying if he said that he’d been happy when she broke it with the doctor a couple weeks before. He wanted her to be happy, she deserved to be happy and if that was with someone else, he’d accept it. But the feeling of her lips on his had him feeling alive, the way her lithe hands gripped his shoulders lit a fire within him.

One of his own hands gripped her hip, the other slipping around her waist, and he slanted his mouth over hers. His tongue brushed against her lips, and she opened for him, the kiss slow but searing.

She took his breath away.

Years ago, if someone told him he’d be kissing Nesta Archeron, that he’d have feelings for her, he would’ve thought them crazy. Now, however, he couldn’t believe he didn’t see it sooner.

Sure, she was a pain in the ass, but he wasn’t exactly a walk in the park, either.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, into her mouth. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.”

Nesta pulled him closer to her, gripping the back of his t-shirt, almost as if she was afraid if she let go, he’d pull away.

He wouldn’t, though.

If she wasn’t going to tell him to stop, if she didn’t want him to stop, he sure as hell wasn’t going to.

There was no alcohol coursing through them this time, this was all of their own free will. Their need for each other.

And gods, he wanted her. He needed her. He’d thought of no one but her for months, especially after the first time before. And now here they were again, as if fate were putting them back together, as Rhys and Feyre had tried to do before.

His tongue explored her mouth, taking his time, so unhurried, so different from the last time he’d kissed her. Cassian had been so lost in his lust for her that he hadn’t taken the time to appreciate her, to note the noises she made or how soft her lips were or how she smelled like a crisp, autumn night.

But this time, he wouldn’t waste a second. He wanted to learn what made her moan, how to make her writhe and just what he needed to do to make Nesta Archeron lose control.

For someone who was typically so damn put together, he needed to see her wild, free, untamed. 

Nesta seemed to feel that want, that desperate need, too, because as Cassian nipped at her bottom lip, she whimpered and her thighs on either side of him tightened. 

Cassian was done wasting time.

In a quick, fluid motion, Cassian pulled her top off and tossed it somewhere behind him. He didn’t know where. He didn’t care where. As long as it wasn’t left on her body, hiding her beautiful skin, the roadmap that he was about to spend his sweet, cherished time exploring. 

She did the same to him, but she was much more deliberate in tossing his clothes aside. She gripped the fabric in her hands for a moment before dropping it down, next to his feet.

Cassian pulled back and Nesta ran her hands down the defined muscles of his abdomen. She watched her fingers attentively as they made their way from his shoulders, to the band of his sweatpants. 

His chest was heaving, and he could barely contain himself as she gently tugged on the band. His lips found her neck and he bit and licked the sensitive skin there, listening to the quiet gasps that escaped her. He lingered at the spot beneath her ear, his hands pressing against her bare back, feeling her, pressing her against him.

“Take me upstairs,” Nesta breathed, gasping as he sucked along the base of her neck.

Cassian shook his head, slowly, continuing to kiss down her neck, along her collarbone, tracing the outline of her bra. “I can’t wait that long,” he whispered.

Nesta’s breath left her as she pushed the band of his sweats down with her fingertips, then her heels until he was slowly stepping out of them in nothing but his boxer-briefs.

“Can’t wait that long to do what, exactly?” she asked, and Cassian pulled back, his arms remaining around her. 

He kissed her forehead, then her nose, and her lips. “What I’ve been dreaming of doing for weeks,” he promised. “And taking my damn time, this time, doing it.”

Nesta’s palm found his stubbled cheek before reaching around the back of his head and tugging his lips back to hers. 

His only lips stayed there for a moment before they were trailing down, down, down, between the valley of her breasts. He pushed her back until she was laying down against the counter and his mouth hovered over the waistband of leggings she wore.

She watched him, mesmerized by the gentleness of the kisses he pressed to her abdomen, his warm breath heating her skin, until he reached up and pulled on the fabric. She lifted her hips in earnest, letting him tug them down, the lace panties she wore going with them.

Cassian stood again, gazing down at her. She was bare before him, save for the pale, pink bra she wore, but he’d make short work of that soon. For now, there was only one thing he could focus on.

His fingers brushed against the inside of her thigh and her legs opened wider subtly. Watching him, her cheeks flushed and eyes wild, Nesta thought she may combust as he crouched between her legs.

His mouth was even with her sex.

“Have you thought about this as much as I have?” He asked, and she could feel his breath against her. “Thought about my mouth on you?”

She nodded, the ability to speak long gone.

Cassian went on, but he moved no closer. “About my tongue between your legs?”

“Yes.” The word was a whisper, but it was all she could manage.

He was right there, so close to where she needed him, where she’d imagined him for weeks.

But first he admired her, and took in the image of her smooth, pretty pink pussy before him. He parted her folds before leaning in and dragging his tongue slowly down the center.

Nesta’s body tensed, then soon relaxed as a soft curse fell from her lips. 

Cassian said he would take his time with her, and it wasn’t a lie, wasn’t an exaggeration. 

His tongue slid between her folds, once more, then again, and again, and again. She tasted so sweet, so addicting. 

Cassian gripped her ass and pulled her closer into his mouth. His tongue circled her clit, slowly, tauntingly, then he began to suck. Slowly, at first, his eyes wide open, looking up at her, memorizing every movement of her body.

Her fingertips turned white, one hand gripping the countertop, the other cupping her breast. 

Her lips were parted, her eyes closed, her face relaxed, perfectly at peace.

Lost in bliss. 

She moved her hips, a sign for him to keep going, a sign for him to move quicker, but he wouldn’t.

He would take his fucking time. 

She seemed to realize that as he gently flicked his tongue over her clit again, because even as she gasped, her hips stilled. She seemed to be restraining herself, trying so hard to keep her body still, but he noted every squirm, jerk and bow that her body made off of the counter.

Nesta’s fingers found their way into Cassian’s hair, the only part of her body that moved freely. Other than that, her body remained still, although those beautiful, long, delicate fingers gripped Cassian’s dark waves and pulled, her grip tightening every time his tongue flicked over her. 

It wasn’t until her knees began to shake on either side of his head that Nesta began to lose control.

He loved it when she lost control. 

She moaned, the sound making Cassian enthralled enough to repeat it, the noise muffled by the fact that Cassian’s mouth was satisfyingly full.

He wouldn’t tease her tonight. No, he wanted her wild, unleashed.

He wanted to make her cum as many times as he could.

He knew she was approaching that crest, knew her release was imminent, as her fingers tightened in his hair to a point of near pain. Her voice was climbing, the moans turning into cries of pleasure and when she at least cried out his name, Cassian thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.

Nesta’s thighs were wrapped around his head and if this was how he died, he’d consider it a blessing. She shattered, repeating his name over and over again, and he lapped up everything she gave him. He bit and licked and sucked until she was a quivering mess on the counter, until she fell still at last, her heavy breathing the only sound in the house.

Carefully, slowly, Cassian gripped the edge of the counter and pulled himself up, only to look at her. 

She was beautiful.

Sprawled out on the counter without a care in the world, Nesta’s eyes were shut. Her chest was heaving, her body limp. 

“Cassian,” she breathed, and he kissed the inside of one thigh, then the other, before kissing his way back up her body. “Shit.”

“Those sounds…” Cassian began, shaking his head. “You have no idea what they do to me.” Nesta’s eyes fluttered open, and she met his hungry gaze. “What do they do to you?”

Cassian continued to shake his head, slowly. He felt drunk, even though he hadn’t had a drop of alcohol. “Makes me forget where I am, who I am. The rest of the world fades away. All I can hear, all I can think about...are those damned sounds.”

Nesta pushed herself up into a sitting position, and ran her fingers through Cassian’s hair, once again. Her breaths were still uneven.

Her eyes went wide as she looked up at him and he was about to ask what was wrong.

There was no way she hadn’t enjoyed it, he knew she wasn’t faking her orgasm, there was no way. The proof of it was still on the counter beneath her, on his face.

But then Nesta glanced down at her own hand and then back at the cake behind her.

She burst out laughing.

Her hand was covered in frosting, the cake half smashed. It was a mess.

And in his hair…

Cassian reached up to touch his hair, where she’d run her fingers through it.

Frosting coated most of the strands.

When he looked back at her face, she was blushing, biting her bottom lip, but that smile still held firmly in place. He could tell she was trying not to laugh, even as she said, “Sorry.”

Tugging her to the edge of the counter, stepping between her spread legs, he let his lips brush against hers as he asked, “Is something funny?”

She shook her head, laughter still dancing in her eyes, and he could tell she was physically restraining herself from kissing him.

Wearing nothing but his boxer-briefs, he ground against her, the thin fabric the only barrier between them now, and she gasped. He asked, “You sure?”

Nesta’s restraint snapped and she crashed her lips against his again. Cassian lifted her, his hands beneath her ass and carried her up the stairs, into her room and into the bathroom beyond.

Neither of them said a word, neither of them broke that kiss, as Cassian turned on the water in the shower. Without letting her go, he slipped out of his underwear and Nesta gasped at the instant contact made between them. 

He made sure it was warm before he stepped inside and pressed Nesta’s back up against the wall.

Nesta clung to him as if her life depended on it. Their mouths didn’t break, their tongues continued to dance along one another in a steady, fluid motion. 

The water poured over them, the sound of the water hitting the tile nearly drowning out the sound of heavy breathing, panting. 

“Cassian,” she breathed, head falling back against the tiled wall. Cassian’s lips didn’t part from her skin. They trailed down her neck and sucked on her collarbone. 

Nesta rotated her hips, trying to get some sort of friction, but Cassian wasn’t ready. His cock was hard, of course, there was no denying that.

Nesta could feel it.

But that foreplay… He wasn’t done.

Cassian was not a selfish lover. Some men came and went so fast the whole ordeal was nearly meaningless, unmemorable. 

Cassian, however, wanted his lover to be pleased, especially when it came to Nesta. Nesta had never felt so important, so focused on.

She wanted him to feel the same way.

With one hand cupping the back of his neck, the other pushed lightly against his chest. He let her feet touch the floor again, but his lips continued their worship of her skin. Her bra had been discarded at some point before they got in the shower, but Cassian wasn’t sure when, nor did he particularly care, not as one of his hands covered her breast. He loved the weight in his hands, adored her breasts. He’d thought about them constantly, but his memories were nothing compared to seeing them again, of rolling her peaked nipple between his fingers. He lived for the sound of the whimpers she made.

His head was dipping to take the other between his lips when a sharp tug on the back of his head had him pausing and looking at her face.

Nesta’s grin was positively feral as she put a hand on his chest and pushed back until he gave a step and then another. And then his own back was pressed against the cool tile wall.

And then Nest dropped to her knees.

Cassian closed his eyes.

He prepared himself for what was coming, but nothing could prepare him for the ethereal feeling that would soon flood his body.

Nesta’s hands rested on his thighs, and her lips wrapped around his hardened cock. 

At the contact, Cassian took a deep breath. 

Her tongue swirled around the head and he nearly lost himself right there. Nesta Arheron was a tease. A beautiful, definite tease when it came to pleasing him.

Cassian wouldn’t trade it for a thing. 

Nesta’s tongue slid across his dick, slowly, as her head began to bob.

Cassian planted himself firmly against the tile wall, careful not to move, afraid it would break the tension. 

He cursed.

His curse seemed to light a fire under Nesta. 

She moved quicker, lit by his reaction. Cassian’s hand found the back of her head, although she needed no guidance. Nesta knew exactly what she was doing, and Cassian happily let her do it.

One of her hands wrapped around the base of him, covering what she couldn’t take into her mouth and she squeezed gently. He hissed and her eyes found his, the stormy blue sparkling, as if she were remembering how he’d told her he liked it.

Her other hand slid up his body, lingering on his abdomen, before she gently dug her nails into his skin.

Cassian’s own hand tightened in her hair as she did it and the delight in her eyes told him it was exactly what she wanted.

He watched as she took him deeper and deeper with every pass, until that other hand fell between her own legs. He didn’t think he was breathing as her fingers slowly began to circle her clit then teased her entrance.

She was getting off on getting him off and the buck of his hips into her throat was involuntary. He was about to apologize, would have pulled his cock out of her mouth entirely, if it weren’t for the moan and the way she plunged her fingers inside of herself.

Nesta gagged quietly as she took him as deeply as she could, her hips writhing against her own hand and Cassian’s eyes rolled back into his head at the feeling.

He didn’t expect it, how open she was to sucking him dry. But the way she dropped to her knees and took him in, Cassian wouldn't have asked her to do anything differently. She was perfect.

At least, she was perfect for him. 

Her tongue slid along his cock, her lips moved freely around him. Cassian was falling into paradise.

She picked up her pace, and Cassian’s fingers gripped the strands of her golden-brown hair a little bit tighter. His hips bucked again, he couldn’t control it, but Nesta didn’t seem to mind. She gripped his ass a little tighter as she moaned, and it only made Cassian do it again and again and again.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Nesta, fuck.”

She thrived on his curses, bobbing her head just a little bit quicker to let him know she cared.

She cared about his satisfaction.

She cared about him.

He had to have her. He had to be inside her now, not because he was close. No, he could hold out all night if that's what she wanted. But he needed to feel her, all around him, needed her to consume him and needed to be one with her however he could.

Cassian brushed a hand along her hollowed out cheek and under her chin. She stilled and gazed up at him, giving him her full attention, and he ran a thumb along her full bottom lip. His cock still between her lips, Cassian knew he would never tire of the sight.

As if she knew what he was thinking, Nesta stood, her hands trailing up his body, running over every divot and plane of muscle. He was about to reach around her and shut off the water, but Nesta hadn’t forgotten the reason they’d ended up in the shower in the first place.

Grabbing the bottle of shampoo off the small ledge, she squeezed a bit into her hand and, with surprising gentleness, began to work it into his hair. Cassian wasn’t sure if he was breathing as she tipped his head back into the stream and rinsed the bubbles and remaining frosting from his head. When she was through, she got some of her body wash and soaped him up, doing the same to herself, before rinsing them both off.

After she shut the water off, she opened the shower door and grabbed a towel before handing it to him, and grabbing one for herself. She toweled off her hair and body, before stepping out into the open air of the bathroom.

Cassian couldn’t help but watch her as Nesta dropped the towel on the bathroom floor and walked into her bedroom, wearing nothing but her skin.

She glanced over her shoulder as she reached her bed and crawled onto it.

Cassian didn’t instantly follow. No, he watched and waited and took in the sight. After drying himself off, he followed her into the bedroom, towel dropped.

Nesta’s eyes lingered down his body, watched as he approached, bare. For someone so big, so strong, so tall, he approached her with a serene gentleness. 

She could hardly breathe. She thought back to Balthazar, and maybe that was wrong in such a moment as this, but she couldn’t help it. She would never feel this way with him, could never feel this way with him.

In this moment, with Cassian, she felt utterly free.

With Balthazar, he was too perfect. She would feel the need to impress, would feel the need to be tamed. With Cassian, though, there was no being tamed. Nesta was free, ready. All she wanted was Cassian, and she needed him right then.

Cassian crawled on top of her on the bed and kissed her, slowly.

With nothing between them, she could feel his hard length pressing into her, and gods, she wanted him. She couldn’t think straight when his lips were moving against hers.

It was perfect. It was like everything that led them there, every horrible thing that had happened, was to bring the two of them together.

He pulled away, just a touch, and leaned back to look at her. Moving on its own accord, her hand reached up and brushed his wet hair out of his face. She wanted to see him, wanted to see every expression in those hazel eyes she’d come to know as well as her own.

He didn’t take them off of her as he lined himself up at her entrance and slowly slid in.

She was so wet, so ready for him, and there was no resistance, but he still let her adjust to him as he settled into her as deeply as he could.

Nesta’s eyes remained on his, and Cassian didn’t dare look away. There were a thousand things he wanted to tell her, felt the need to tell her, but was afraid to speak. He hoped that, in that moment, his words were as plain as day, laid bare in his eyes.

He was buried deep inside of her, and for a moment he remained still before resting one hand next to Nesta’s head, and with the other, lacing his fingers with hers.

She let him. She took his hand and held on tightly as Cassian began to pull out, only to push back in again in one long fluid motion.

Her breathing was the only sound in the room, the soft gasp she let out like music to ears each time he pulled out and pushed back in. Eventually, her eyes fluttered shut, unable to stay open as he moved inside of her. He took the chance to glance down her body, to watch as they were joined again and again, marveling at how good she felt, how perfectly he fit inside her.

It was like being home.

It was in that moment that he realized, at some point in the past few months, that that was exactly what it had become. This house, their little routine, Nyx. Nesta.

She had become his home.

A family. That’s what they were and it was overwhelming, that fact.

Cassian buried his face in the crook between her head and shoulder, his lips finding that sensitive skin as he thrust into her a bit more roughly than he had before.

Her hand clasped the back of his neck as she cried out, his name tumbling from her lips.

He had never felt this way with anyone, and it had become much more than just sex. It became a desire. Nesta had become desirable, and for much more than just her body.

Yeah, the sex was good.

Amazing.

Incredible.

Ethereal.

But it was more than just his body and hers doing the most intimate of acts.

Their souls were connecting in a way that Cassian had never felt, had never even considered possible.

She was his family.

She was his home.

And Cassian wasn’t even sure she realized it. 

Nesta’s fingers dug into the back of his neck, and he picked up his pace.

“Cass, please…”

Her voice was a breathy moan in his ear and he groaned as she wrapped her legs around his waist. The shift in her hips made the angle deeper, allowing him to fill her to the hilt, and her name tumbled from his lips as he thrust into her again and again.

Her fingers dove into his hair, tugging on the strands and he drove his hips home harder.

“Shit,” she moaned. “I’m— I’m about to—”

Nesta didn’t even finish her sentence before she cried out, her release cresting over her like a wave, dragging her under. She tightened around him and Cassian fought his own rising orgasm as her nails dragged down his back, as she clung to him, like he was her only lifeline back to herself.

He couldn’t hold on for long. He had always been insecure about the sounds he made while orgasming, but Nesta seemed to thrive on those little moans, those grunts, coming from his mouth. They were muffled by the skin of her neck as Cassian fell deeper and deeper, meeting Nesta in a state of utter bliss.

He slowed until nothing was left, and stilled, his body still covering hers, his cock buried deep inside.

They remained quiet as they fought to catch their breaths. 

As he calmed, Nesta ran one hand lazily up and down Cassian’s back, the other through his hair.

Cassian kissed her neck, softly, before pulling back and meeting her eyes.

They were full of lust, lovedrunk lust, and something that Cassian hoped he was not mistaking for adoration.

He was still breathing heavily, still trying to calm his racing heart, when he realized he’d come inside of her. She’d told him last time that he didn’t need to wear a condom, so he assumed this time was no different.

After he’d finally caught his breath, Cassian said, “I should clean—.”

“Stay with me,” she breathed, interrupting him.

He blinked, wanting to make sure he understood her words. “What?”

“Stay with me,” Nesta repeated, tucking some of his loose, unruly hair behind one of his ears. “Tonight, I… I want you to stay in here. With me.”

Swallowing harshly, Cassian nodded. He didn’t trust his voice, not when it was what he’d been dreaming she’d say, but never in a million years let himself hope that she would.

Nesta nodded as well, smiling softly. “Okay?”

His voice was hoarse and gravely. “Okay.” He couldn’t stop his own smile from growing.

Leaning down, he kissed her again, gently, softly.

He let that kiss convey all the words he was too terrified to say.

[landprince]

what do you feed a blood covered werewolf that you just dragged into your apartment from off the street? cereal? you feed them cereal right?

[ito-itonomen]

An owl house au type thing I would write if I wasn't wrapped up with What Big Claws

(up for adoption to whoever wants it)

Start scene in the middle of the day Market. Three Coven guards are about to arrest a wild witch in rags.

The two taller guards leer and push the shortest of the three forward.

Guard 1: alright newbie, time to show us what you got!

Guard 2: yeah, shrimpie, show this freak who's boss!

The short guard stands before the wild witch on her knees and slowly points their staff at the wild witch for a few seconds only to let it clang to the ground.

Guard 1: hey what gives!

Slowly, with shaking hands, the guard takes off their coven mask to reveal a young girl, maybe 18 or 19, with short cropped hair and a scar going down her face. She has withstood the horrors of the Emperor's coven training and desperately wants out. A whispered rumor of a way out escape fuels the girl to squeeze her teary eyes shut and raise her Marked wrist up into the air.

Coven girl, singing in a shaky voice: I-I am my mother's Savage daughter~

The wild witch looks at the girl with wide, knowing eyes, she has heard the rumors too.

Guard 2: what the hell, shrimpie!

Coven girl takes a shaky breath and continues: The one who r-runs barefoot, cursing sharp stones~

Guard 2 lurches forward to snatch the coven girl only to hit a golden force field.

The shield spreads to cover the striken girl.

A figure hidden beneath a red cloak steps forward and sings in a husky voice that carries over the crowd.

Red figure: I am my mother's Savage daughter, I will not cut my hair, I will not lower my voice!~

The figure raises a pale arm into the air, revealing a bare wrist. The wind blows off the figure's good to reveal Eda.

A second wrist lifts over the heads of the crowd, it is bare but covered in a shiny pink burn scar. The crowd parts to reveal Lilith who joins her sister's song.

Eda and Lilith: My mother's child is a Savage! She looks for her omens in the colors of stones, in the faces of cats, in the fall of feathers, in the dancing of fire, in the curve of old bones ~

More wrists, some burned, some smooth, but all barren, raise into the air as the wild witches hidden in the crowd begin to close in on the coven guards.

Wild witches: I am my mother's Savage daughter! The one who runs barefoot cursing sharp stones! I am my mother's Savage daughter, I will not cut my hair, I will not lower my voice!

The witches all use their free hands to rest upon one another's shoulders, linking them all to Eda who stands in the front. Thick, golden ropes of magic spread over the witches and channel to Eda who's eyes turn gold and her voice takes on a possesed quality.

Eda: my mother's child dances in darkness! She sings heathen songs by the light of the moon, and watches the stars and renames the planets, and dreams she can reach them with a song and a broom!

Eda extends her hand to the coven girl who looks up at Eda with fearful eyes. Eda gives her a comforting look.

The girl takes her hand with her Marked arm and cries out when gold ribbons envelope her arm.

The two coven guards are trying to intervene, the shield has spread and it's too strong for them to break.

Wild witches all sing the chorus so loudly it vibrates through the air and rattles all who stand witness.

The coven girls wrist begins to burn and she nearly falls but the wild witch who she had nearly been forced to arrest holds her up with gentle hands.

Vines rise out of the girls skin all over her body, then start to recede down to her wrist where her coven mark is.

Eda: we are all brought forth out of darkness. Into this world through blood and through pain! And deep in our bones, the old songs are waking! So sing them with voices of thunder and rain!

Eda sings along with the wild witches as the girl's mark is burned away along with the vines.

When the song ends and the magic fades, the girl is breathless and crying tears of pain and relief. Her wrist is bare save for a shiny red burn.

Eda, to the crowd: The Emperor is a tyrant! He enslaves you all through his currupt system! He brands you like livestock! Today, another child has been saved from his grasp, and welcomed back to the the wild just as the Titan intended for true witches to live!

Eda, to the girl: what's your name, kid?

Girl: A-Amity blight.

Eda: Welcome home, Amity blight!

Wild witches: WELCOME SISTER!

Eda takes Amity by the shoulders and leads her away from the market along with the procesion of wild witches into the woods.

The Owl Mother has welcomed another into her nest.

-------

[hanniiesuckle17]

Fireworks

A/n: this is not requested but i needed to write something for me and I always love writing best friend!jisung (this turned out to be hella long btw). Also i just realized this is the 16th jisung fic on my masterlist wtf. Welp happy sweet sixteen jisung. 

Tag List: @mini-meanhoe​ @leggomylino​ @hanstagrams​ @desertofdessert​ @hoes4hoseok​ @yangomangos​ @jeonqqin​ @geminirules​ @crscendoforsung​ @mrsunshine999​ @jisungsjheekies​ @hannie-squirrel00​ @cotccotc​ @kodzu-ken​ @konenichi​ @yangs-jeongin​ @binniebutter​ @skzwriternet​​

Warnings: cussing probably, lil distressed jisung, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: Y/n and Jisung practically grew up together. Y/n always dreamed of getting her fairytale happy ending. So, Jisung is surprised when she is settling for an all but labeled ‘arranged marriage’ to an asshole that Jisung knows doesn’t love her. Not like he does. Can Jisung convince himself to go after what he really wants and take the risks that come with it? Can Y/n face the facts that what she has wanted has been in front of her all along?

Genre: romance, fluff, angst, non-idol!au, bestfriend!au, friends to lovers!au, wedding crasher!au, Fem Reader

❃

“Please, come today!”

Jisung sighed over the phone. “Y/n. I have no knowledge whatsoever about dresses. Especially wedding dresses! They’re all white! What’s the difference?” I could hear the murmurs of Changbin and Chan on the other side of the line. “See. I will be no help at all!” Despite the negative connotation of his words I could hear the tiny smile in his voice.

“So, we’re meeting outside the shop at five.”

“Y/n, I’m not going.”

“2146 Chyeongsong Ave, got it?”

“Yes, I’ve got it.”

Letting out a happy laugh I hung up on my best friend, sure that his attendance could be accounted for. The wedding was three months away. Jiho, my fiancee, had no desire for a big wedding and it seemed the sooner we were married the happier he would be.

But, I had always dreamed of a magical wedding with hundreds of people watching me marry the man of my dreams. So, we compromised. He said I could plan as big I wedding as I wanted as long as I could get it done in three months and he would pay for it.

Jiho was the son of one of Seoul’s big company presidents. His family was very kind and seemed to welcome me with open arms despite my less than formal upbringing. Jiho grew up in a penthouse apartment and went to the best university in Seoul.

I grew up in a tiny house in the rundown suburbs next door my best friend, Jisung, and busted my ass to get scholarships and pay my way through a cheap college. Jisung was beside me in all the big moments in my life. He was my best friend and I loved him more than anything.

“So, what did he say?”

Sooyoung’s head of curly dark hair popped over the cubicle divider separating our two desks. I laughed and gave her a thumbs up. “You doubted my power of Jisung persuation?”

“Never. You could convince that boy to run around Gangnam with his shoes on his ears and screaming at the top of his lungs if you wanted to.” Laughing at the thought, I turned back to my computer, desperately watching the minutes tick by before I would get to start searching for my wedding dress.

❃

A slightly chilling breeze blew across the street. Jisung regardless of his lack of enthusiasm on the phone picked me up from work to walk with me to my dress appointment. My mother, other best friend Yuri, and Jiho’s sister Bo Rim were already waiting outside. Everyone greeted us with a smile as we walked up. My arm was looped with Jisung’s and my hand was stuffed in his jacket pocket since it was cold. 

 My mother smiled and embraced Jisung with a kiss on the cheek before motioning us inside. My entourage and I were quickly greeted by a consultant. “Hi! My name is Hyunsoon, I’ll be your consultant today. You must be the gorgeous bride, Y/n!” She smiled looking me up and down before glancing at my arm linked with the man beside me. “And is this handsome young man your husband-to-be?” 

 Jisung shook his head dark hair falling in his eyes. A tight smile sat on his lips as he answered the woman. “No, I’m just the best friend. I’m not going to stay for the whole appointment.” She nodded looking at Jisung with new eyes. “I want to be surprised. Regardless, Y/n will look radiant in whatever she chooses.”

 After a few questions about my wedding Hyunsoon led me back into a dressing room and my family and friends to a couch with mirrors around it.

 “Are you excited for your wedding?” She asked with a kind smile, placing dressing on the wall of the dressing room for me to see.

 “You could say that,”

 Her brows furrowed. “You don’t sound very excited?” I shrugged and laughed nervously. The dresses she had picked out were very pretty. Sensing I had nothing more to say on the topic she helped me into the first dress. 

It was weird to see myself in the garment. I watched her fix the dress with clips so it would fit as it should before looking over to me. The dress was more of a ball gown style. It poofed out just above my hips and was strapless with a sweetheart neckline.

“Do you want to go out and show them?” I nodded and helped her pick up the many layers of tulle skirt. Hearing fabric brush against the ground as we walked out of the hallway, the heads of my entourage turned. Several smiles were seen from my view in the mirror as I stepped up onto the pedestal.

 I gazed once again at the dress in the mirror. It was a gorgeous gown; there was no doubt. Feeling ready for their opinion, I turned around to face the peanut gallery. “What do you think?” My mother was quick to gush over the skirt. Bo Rim and Yuri both raved over the shiny beading on the bodice. Mrs. Nam, Jiho’s mother seemed to like it just fine. My eyes fell on Jisung who said nothing. He looked at me, arms crossed and fingers brushing over his bottom lip. “Ji?”

 “It’s....nice...”

Struggling not to laugh I replied, “One of the most incredible song writers I know and the only thing he has to say is ‘nice’?” My friend chuckled and his stare raked over the fabric before looking back up at my face.

“It’s not you. You don’t look like you. You look like some frilly puffy marshmallow girl.”

From anyone else the comment would offend but all I could do was laugh. “He’s right this is definitely not me.” Nodding the consultant ushered me back into the dressing room. Five dresses later, nothing felt right and I was beginning to get stressed out. “What do I do, Hyunsoon? Nothing feels right. I’m not feeling those....fireworks.” The beautiful woman looked at me in question. “Sorry, it’s something Jisung and I say to each other. It’s like our wish for the other to find so much happiness that it feels like...actual fireworks.” I explained with a light laugh. 

She sat down on the floor with me, moving the short silk robe further over my thigh, a gentle gesture. “Tell me more about your fiancee,” She kept her hand on my knee and rubbed soothing circles on my skin.

“Ummm....well...his name is Nam Jiho. He’s really nice and very very smart. Like holy fuck, he is insanely smart. He spends most of his time at work and he really likes to run as well.”

She looked at me expectantly. “That’s it?” I nodded, a little unsure of what else she wanted me to say. “And you love him?”

“Of course! What kind of a question is that? I’m getting married aren’t I?” Though I smiled, she could tell there was the smallest bit of insecurity. She thought for a minute tapping her fingers softly on my knee.

I felt somewhat lost among the mountains of white fabric scattered about the room. “Okay then! Whose opinion matters the most to you out of everyone you brought with you today?”

“Oh- Jisung. Of course.”

“Tell me about Jisung,”

A hefty sigh left my lips, but a small happy smile soon replaced it. “Jisung is....he’s like....my person you know? Like anytime I need him- even when I don’t need him- he’s always around. We grew up together. He is my everything. I trust him with more than my life. He’s just....Jisung. He is fully himself and unapologetic about it.” Ilaughed recalling thousands and thousands of memories with him. “He is a total asshole. Way too confident. But, he gets really shy sometimes. He’s also very genuine and has the biggest heart. Without Jisung...I wouldn't be who I am today.”

She smiled and pushed herself off the ground. “I will be right back!” Just as she closed the door, Hyunsoon winked over at me and left me alone in the dressing room.

❃

Jisung’s POV

I was beginning to feel restless. Y/n hadn’t come out in at least thirty minutes. My leg was going to bounce off my body at this point. Unable to sit still any longer I pushed myself off the plush couch. It was getting harder and harder to control my heart seeing Y/n walk out in all these gowns knowing she was going to marry another man.

Wandering through the labyrinth-like rows of white frocks, I found myself thinking once again about Y/n. Not bothering to cage my thoughts they ran wild with daydreams of Y/n choosing dresses imagining what I would think of her walking down the aisle. Her smiling at me instead of that asshat, Jiho. 

Turning down an obviously dead end, my eyes fell on the mannequin standing in the center of the row. A delicate dress hung on the figure.Tattooed lace around the bodice and down the front of the gown to the hips fading like waves on shore. The back was low and open and my mind filled in the gaps, picturing Y/n’s soft skin laying beneath the fabric. My fingers brushed over the long thin sleeves. 

The sound of the a door closing snatched me from the my tantalizing reverie. “Oh- You’re Jisung right?” The woman asked walking closer. I recognized her as the one helping with Y/n’s appointment. I gave her a short nod, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket. “I actually need your help.”

“Anything for Y/n.” The beautiful woman’s brow quirked up and a smile slid onto her painted lips. “I mean....anything...for the bride.” 

Her tongue slid over her white teeth. There was so much white around, my head was starting to physically hurt. “Uh huh. Anyway! Y/n basically hates everything not only I have picked, but also everything she’s picked.” I stood waiting for the part where I could possibly help. “She trusts you. She wouldn’t stop talking about you.”

“I’m sorry....I don’t see how-”

“I see you’re looking at dresses. Have you seen one that you like? Maybe....one you would like...on Y/n?” My eyes fell to the floor, glancing over at the mannequin briefly. My quick gaze did not go unnoticed by Y/n’s consultant. “Well...Jisung....don’t you have good taste.” She walked over to dress form and checked the price tag before giving the gown a once over. “Revealing taste too....” She sang with a smirk. 

I looked away rubbing the back of my neck, the area feeling very itchy all of a sudden.  “I-I- uh...the dress just seems like her. It’s very.....mesmeric. Her.” 

“She did say you have a way with words.” Hyunsoon, I think her name was, walked over to one of the racks pushing past dresses until she pulled out one I assumed was in my bestfriend’s size. “Go sit back down! I know she’s going to love this one.” 

My head tilted back and I let out a sigh. As much as it pained me, I knew seeing that dress on Y/n and knowing it was ‘the one’ would be it for me. I’d snap and in front of all her family, soon to be and current, I’d confess how much I loved her and that I didn’t want her to marry that dick. I’d ruin what would be her perfect happy ending. Well...in her words....her ‘Moderatley-Happy-Fiancially-Stable Ending’.

“Actually...I’m gonna head out. I know she’s gonna love it. Tell her I hope she gets her fireworks.”

Willinging myself to start moving, I walked past Hyunsoon and towards the door, only stopping once. A glimpse. I caught only a glimpse. The door of Y/n’s dressing room opened and I saw the bright smile on her lips as she looked at the dress being brought to her. “That’s your last look, Han.” I mumbled under my breath. “Now turn around and walk out.” 

With every ounce of willpower left in my body, I did.

❃

The TV droned in my rundown apartment. My two closest friends, outside the one I was deeply in love with, were half drunkenly lounged in my tiny living room. I scowled at the television, taking another drink from the bottle in my hand. 

“Dude- slow down. That’s like your sixth drink.” The eldest chided, tossing a balled up fast food wrapper at my head. 

Ignoring the fellow musician’s advice, I chugged the rest of the beer shooting Chan a look. “Chan let him be. You know what tomorrow is.” Changbin sighed. Turning, I found him hanging off an armchair upside down, scrolling through his phone. It was silent for a while until the inverted boy spoke up again. “I still don’t get why she’s marrying that douchebag.”

Knowing where this conversation was going I escaped to the kitchen, preoccupying myself with grabbing another beer from the fridge. the other two boys paid me no mind and continued the discussion as if I was invisible. Chan’s attention turned back to me as I plopped down next to him on the dusty old couch. “Han, didn’t you say you caught the guy cheating like....multiple times....” 

It was true. I had caught Jiho not once, not twice, not even three times, but four times I had got him with other women. Jiho liked to go out to clubs. The scumbag would pretend that he was working late so Y/n would be none the wiser, then he would stay out until three in the morning drinking and getting with random girls he met. The bastard didn’t even have the decency to frequent establishments he knew I wouldn’t be at. My music career was in the dumps lately and I had resorted to DJ-ing at downtown clubs.

That fucking asshole even had the audacity to flirt with other girl while Y/n was around. She had invited me out with the two of them for drinks  after a promotion at work. The second she leaves for the bathroom Jiho starts making moves on the waitress. Right in front of me. 

“Yeah....well, there’s nothing I can do about it.” On multiple occasions I had tried to tell Y/n about her terrible fiancee. Every time I tried, all I could see was the look of hope on her face. the look that practically begged for me to tell her that Jiho and I were finally getting along. And....I couldn’t do it. I could never do it. 

“Boo hoo. Horton hears a bitch ass liar!” Changbin slurred from his awkward position. 

“What?”

“That is quite possibly the biggest lie you have ever told.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. Chan yanked the beer out of my grip and handed me a water bottle instead. “Oh and what do you suppose I do then?” I managed to get the words out before Chan less than gently shoved the water in my face. 

The man beside me sighed and shifted to face me fully. “You love Y/n. Yes or No?”

“Yes.”

“She needs to know that.” I shook my head. No, she did not need to know that. I was not going to be the reason Y/n ruined her chance at a good life. Looking around my apartment I saw nothing but disappointment. Most months it was hard to make rent and I could barely afford to do anything but the bare necessities. She deserved better than what I could give her. “We all know Y/n is only settling. This is definitely not the fairytale ending she always talked about.”

“Chan, there’s no such thing as fairytales. Even Y/n knows that.” Inwardly, I grimaced at my own words. Had Y/n been around to hear those words I would have been slapped upside the head. 

“How do you know that? Do you have proof?” Changbin mused, a drunk smile on his face. “Let’s say this is a fairytale. You and Y/n have to be the main characters! The prince and the princess always get to together in the end! Duhhh!”

Even in my sour and depressed mood it was easy to laugh as Changbin slid off the armchair and landed on his head. “He does have a point, Ji.” Chan said, listing his head back onto the couch. Two of his fingers pushed the bottom of the bottle back up towards my face. “You’re the leading man in your own life, dude. Stop acting like the best friend. If you want her go get her.”

My thumb brushed over the grooves in the plastic . The alcohol was quickly clearing out of my system. A numbness filled my body as I contemplated the options put in front of me. Maybe it was time for me to be selfish. Maybe it was time for me to get what I wanted. 

Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself off the sofa and headed for the door. 

❃

Thirteen hours. Thirteen hours before my best friend’s wedding and I was walking to her house at two in the morning to confess my feelings for her. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I mumbled under my breath. The view of her parents house was growing closer as I walked down the street. Y/n told me earlier in the week she would be staying there the night before the big day. 

Just like so many nights in our teen-dom, a familiar yellow glow from Y/n’s bedroom window illuminated the street below her house. Through the second story window I could see glimpses of movement. For a moment I just stood, doubting all the decisions I made in the last twenty minutes. I could chicken out here. Turn around and go home. She would never know. 

Just as I was about to turn around, I was caught in daze by the image in the window. Y/n stepped into view, radient like a new morning. From the little I could see from the street, she was wearing the dress I had picked from the boutique. Her hair was messily pushed back and strands fell in front of her eyes. The glint of the standing mirror flashed across from where she stood. Her beautiful E/c eyes trained on her reflection. 

She was breathtaking. My chest got tight just looking at her and a cold sweat was born on my palms. I watched as she rung her hands together, nervously twisting the rings on her fingers; a habit we both shared. Y/n let out a shaky breath before returning her gaze to the looking glass, this time with a smile. 

Her delicate fingers reached up and brushed her cheek before they stretched out as if to shake some invisible person’s hand. Her smile grew brighter as she talked to this imaginary person. She laughed and looked truly the happiest I had seen her in a long time. 

My eyes fell to the road, scuffing my shoe on the asphalt. She was happy. No matter how badly I wanted her.....there was no way I was going to take that away from her. Y/n’s happiness mattered more than mine. I could find comfort in the knowledge that she would be happy. That she would be taken care of. That she got everything she deserved. Everything I could never give her. 

Turning on my heel, the cold air and truth bleeding me sober, I walked back into the city away from my happy ending. 

❃

Y/n’s POV

Thirteen hours. Thirteen hours before my wedding and I was questioning everything for absolutely no reason. The rest of my family was long asleep. Yet, here I sat in my wedding dress feeling like everything I was doing, every decision I made.....was wrong. I felt like crying for no reason, my throat refusing to be anything but tight. 

Coming to my feet, I smoothed out the gorgeous gown and walked with no purpose until I found myself staring at the mirror on the far side of the room. The girl on the other side of the glass looked like a bride. Why wasn’t I happy with that?

Standing up tall like my mother lectured many times in the past few days, I pursed my lips and put on a pained smile. “Hi, I’m Mrs. Nam Jiho,” The name felt unclean coming from my lips. Tilting my head, I rubbed my face before staring back at my reflection. I sighed pushing back the feeling of tears begging to spill over. 

“It’s nice to meet you, my name is Nam Y/n.” I shivered, swallowing the last bit of moisture in my mouth. “Nam....Y/n.....Y/n Nam....Mrs.Nam Y/n.” The more I tried to look at the person who I would become the more I felt like crying. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Mrs. Nam Y/n....” Before I could finish the words I broke into tears. Loud sobs filled my room and all I could do was stare at the hollow shell reflected in my mirror. 

My heart ached. The air in the room around me felt heavy, like a weight on my shoulders, pushing me down into the ground. Pushing past the lump in my throat, my eyes returned to the mirror, this time fixating on the photos framing the glass. Pictures of my friends and family.

 My heart lifted seeing a photo of Jisung and me. It was an old picture from highschool, probably taken on one of those disposable cameras you could get at corner stores. His school uniform was slightly too big for his then thin frame. My skirt was just a little too long and my shoes were never quite the right size. We were seated on the bleachers outside the school. Jisung sat on the row above me and let me rest between his legs. His arm was wrapped around my shoulders, as he leaned around to kiss my cheek. I was caught in the middle of a laugh and Jisung looked so happy right next to me. 

I smiled remembering the day from the printed memory. A friend we both had lost touch with had taken the photo while we weren’t looking. We then got teased for days afterwards. My fingers brushed over the delicate fabric of the dress. The dress that Jisung had chosen. Jisung. Almost every happy moment of my life....was tied to Jisung. Taking a step forward, I looked back in the mirror. Sniffing away the tears, I smiled. 

“I’m please to meet you....I’m Mrs. Han Jisung,” 

The smile on my face grew bigger and my heart swelled. Reaching up I brushed away the tears that spilled over before holding my hand as if meeting one of the guests at my wedding. “Jisung and I are so pleased you could come to our wedding,” 

The feeling in my chest had me wishing to cry all over again but for a different reason. I wanted to jump and scream at the top of my lungs the name ‘Han Y/n’. The more I said it, the more I felt like a teenager again. 

All I could think about was Jisung. His dark hair, dyed one too many times, leaving it slightly damaged but somehow still soft. His big, round, doe eyes. The way he told the stupidest jokes. His voice- not just when he sang, but even simply speaking his voice was one of my favorite sounds. Pressing my hands to my cheeks, I pulled away finding them hot. 

“Fuck...I’m in love with Jisung.”

❃

“Okay, I need everyone to give me some fucking space!” I shouted, effectively silencing my dressing room. One by one, my maid of honor ushered the ladies out. I let slip one time that I am having second thoughts and all hell breaks loose. 

Sitting at the vanity, my head fell into my hands. I was dejected. Confused. And obviously sitting with a pretty big headache. I hadn’t heard from Jisung since the dress appointment and he didn’t answer any of my texts this morning. It was like he was avoiding me. Eyeing the champagne on table I contemplated drinking the whole damn bottle then just going through with the event. As much as I wanted to get married, I didn’t want to do it to someone I didn’t love. 

Standing up, I manuevered the champagne filled vessel away from my body and popped it, the sound letting loose a satisfying echo. The bubbly liquid filled the glass flute I picked up. My first sip was interrupted by a knock on the door. 

“I told you guys I needed space! Just fuck off!”

Downing the glass, I turned to pour another one. Drunk ceremony was looking like my best option right about now. The click of the dressing room door opening caused my ears to prick up. “I said fuck off-”

“That’s not very nice language coming from the bride.” 

Jisung stood in the doorway, hesitant smile on his face. His hair was almost styled, pieces still falling loose over his forehead. A black blazer hung over an untucked slightly wrinkled white dress shirt. His slender hands were shoved in the pockets of his blue jeans. 

“Coming from you that’s rich,” He watched me drink in his appearance. “Jeans, Ji? You come to my wedding in jeans and Doc Martens?” 

My best friend rubbed the back of his neck, eyes trained on the carpeted floor. “To be honest....I wasn’t sure I was coming at all.”

I blinked, trying to process the words just said to me. My best friend....the man I loved more than anything in the world...said he almost didn’t come to my wedding. “Excuse me?”

“Y/n....we need to talk....” 

My chest tightened in anticipation as I watched Jisung close the door. He stayed on the opposite side of the room seemingly nervous or afraid to even look my way. A hint of a smile appeared as I watched Jisung anxiously turn the silver rings around his fingers. “Ji, have you been avoiding me...”

Instead of answering, the man’s eyes fell to the bottle on the vanity. He motioned to it, wordlessly asking for a glass. Stepping away, I allowed him enough room to cross and pour a glass for himself. He downed the flute like a shot almost making me laugh at the similarity between us. “Didn’t you want to get married outside? In a forest if I remember correctly?”

“Don’t change the subject, Jisung.”

“I’m not.” For the first time I felt like Jisung really looked at me. His eyes seemed to soften. Before I could once again appreciate how beguiling his eyes were, they retreated back to their place on the floor. “Y/n....this isn’t you. You deserve a fairytale ending. Your fairytale ending. You don’t deserve a shotgun wedding in some church with nobody watching just waiting for the hour de vours to be passed out.”

“I’m not pregnant. This isn’t a shotgun-”

“Please just let me finish, Y/n....”

Nodding, I leaned against the vanity and watched my friend’s hands brushed through his dark locks. The silver hanging from his ears glinted in the bright fluorescent lighting. “Y/n...Don’t....don’t get married.” He seemed encouraged by my reaction, or lack thereof. “I think about you a little more than I should. A lot more actually. For a long time. Y/n/n, I’ve been in love with you since grade school.”

A familiar lump began to form in my throat and a pit formed in my stomach. Gaining confidence, Jisung’s eyes met mine. “It’s been killing me...seeing you with that asshole. I know you’re happy. I know that you’re better off with him. He can give you everything that I can’t, because you deserve to have a nice house. You deserve to be spoiled with gifts and trips. You deserve to not come home every night and worry whether the rent has been paid.” Jisung stopped and stared at the empty glass in his hands. 

“You always talked about fairytales when we were little. Well...my fairytale would just be us. No magic. No princes and princesses. Cause you’re enough for me. More than enough. Y/n, you’re it for me. You’re my fairytale.”

His eyes widened seeing a single tear rolling down my cheek. Before continuing Jisung watched me with shaking hands carefully set the glass flute on the vanity behind me. 

“I- I want you to be happy. If you’re happy with Jiho then I will go out into that church and clap when you get hitched. Because, that's what friends fucking do and that I can give you. But...if there is any chance....any part of you...that loves me at all....even a little bit....”

He gulped, fingers ferociously twisting the rings on his right hand. Not many would believe it, but Jisung was shy. Introverted. It was rare to see him like this. Jisung wasn’t afraid or nervous, but more timid or demure. I could almost see his heart physically stop beating as I opened my mouth to speak.

“I’m not happy, Ji.” He blinked, big, brown, doe eyes trying to understand what I meant. “I want to be. But, I can’t be happy with someone I don’t love. I don’t care about the money or the gifts. I just.....want my fireworks. I think you can understand that more than anyone.”

Jisung nodded dejectedly, shoving his hands into the pockets of the blazer that seemed to be holding itself together with only a few threads. He seemed to not understand what I was saying. “I do....understand- I mean. That’s all I want for you. If you can’t be happy with Jiho or me then-”

“Fuck, Ji. You really are dense aren’t you?”

“What?”

Reaching forward, I twisted the collar of Jisung’s slightly unbuttoned shirt and pulled him closer. Before our lips even touched I could feel electricity in the air, sparking and making room hotter. Finally feeling my lips against his sent my stomach on a rollercoaster; twisting, turning, loop de loops, and free falls giving me the greatest feeling spreading to the rest of my body. 

The feeling of my fingers sliding up his neck, must have brought Jisung out of whatever shock induced daze he was in. Like second nature his arms wrapped around me, cool hands pressing into the bare skin of my back. There was nothing but fire in my stomach as Jisung dragged his lips over mine at a painstakingly slow pace. The man smiled feeling me pull and tangle my fingers in his soft dark tresses. 

“Fireworks?” I asked, pulling away with my bottom lip snagged between my teeth. 

“Millions.” Jisung’s thumb brushed over my cheek before he leaned back in capturing my lips in another death defying kiss. “Did you drive here? I took the train.” He mumbled between kisses.

I laughed feeling happier than any moment before in my life. “My car is out back. You’re driving.”

Opening my eyes, I saw that signature smirk my best friend was famous for. For the first time I knew why my insides did flips when it was directed at me. Lacing his fingers with mine he dragged me from the dressing room and led me through the halls as fast as we could run with one of us in a wedding dress. As we reached the car, slamming the doors shut, the bells in the chapel started to ring making the both of us grin. Jisung leaned over, fastening my seatbelt before kissing my lips like they were his only source of air.

“You make quite the gorgeous runaway bride,”

❃

Masterlist

[axwalker]

CREEP: I’m a creep

HIGH SCHOOL AU 

Pairing: Drake Walker and Lexie O’Brien -- Book TRR 

A/N 1 This came up to me after I got an ask from @nestledonthaveone

I was listening to my iPod on my way home from work yesterday & Radiohead's Creep came on. One of my favorite songs, and I think the lyrics are great for an angsty Drake fic. It reminds me of him. Could you please write an angsty fic inspired by the song? I love how you write angst!!

I used to hear this song when I was a teenager, so when I read this ask, I immediately wanted to write something angsty but situated in high school.

This is part one of two. 

I hope you enjoy it @nestledonthaveone 💕

A/N 2: Because they’re younger than usual, I decided to change my  FC --just for this fic. I’m still picturing Michiel and Valerie when they’ll be older though. 

A/N3: I’m participating in @wackydrabbles Prompt #105   It's definitely ... interesting.”

Thank you ladies! 

WARNINGS: Parental abuse. Eventually some lemons.  ALL MY FICS ARE 18+ 

Tags in the comments. 

LEXIE 

I’ve always loved sunsets. The entire sky is painted orange and pink, streaking with white light and many other colors; I can’t take my eyes away from it. Sunsets remind us that no matter what is happening in our lives, the sun will be out again tomorrow. It’s raw, beautiful, and comforts me—the thought of the sun watching over me. I sit on my porch, my knees against my chest. I’m wearing a white tank top and jean shorts to fight the intense heat that invades Cordonia in early September.  I fix my eyes on the sky, wishing a miracle. Something that takes me away from my father and his new wife. Away from the pain of losing mom.

“What are you doing?” The voice is so resonant, deep, and rasping. Slowly, I sit up and look around, pushing my long, brown hair out of my eyes. I raise my head, and I see him. Drake Walker. 

 My breath catches, and I cross my arms over my breasts, knowing the thin material of my shirt isn’t keeping me remotely modest. What is he doing here? At this time, no less. I go to school with Drake. We’re both sophomores at Valtoria High School. He’s six foot two, with strong shoulders, and has a knowledge of life in his eyes that boys our age simply don’t possess. We have five classes together, and he sits through them like a statue, his chocolate eyes unreadable. Tall, dark, and angry. Handsome in a hard way that makes the other girls nervous when he walks down the hallways. Not me, though. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve stared at him from behind my locker door, breath trapped in my lungs, wondering what he’s thinking of behind his brooding eyes. 

“I asked, what are you doing? This isn’t a safe place to be alone at night. You should get inside.” 

“Inside is no safer.” Why would I say that? My first time talking with this boy, and I tell him my deepest secret? His eyes narrow at me.“I mean, there’s not a lot of crime in this part of Portavira.” That loosens the tension in his broad shoulders. “I’m looking at the sunset. I love it. It’s so beautiful and wild.” I bit my bottom lip noticing his eyes dip to catch the action. 

“It’s definitely ... interesting,” he says, noncommittally. “There are things I like more.” 

“Like what?” I ask. 

He shrugs but looks back down at me, wrestling with something. He lifts a hand, brushing the very tip of his fingers down my cheekbone. “You,” he rasps.

Drake’s deep brown eyes look at me with something I’m only on the cusp of understanding. Is it…lust? His fingers move down my jaw, traveling slowly over the hollow of my throat to tease one of my tank top’s straps. “I like you. I can’t seem to stop…wanting. Wanting you to look at me. Wanting you…period. It’s why I sit behind you in all your classes, O’Brien. You don’t know that?” My knees start to tremble. I’ve always wondered how we end up in the same classes every single semester. He’s arranged for it to happen? He…likes me? That much? Say something, dork. Don’t act like it’s not mutual. 

 As if I haven’t lain my bed after school, when no one is at home and touched myself while thinking of Drake Walker. I must be doing a terrible job of keeping that secret to myself because Drake’s breath begins to grow shallow. “O’Brien.” He drops his forehead to mine, the pads of his thumb rubbing the soft skin of my neck. “Have you ever been kissed?”

I can’t talk, so I shake my head. 

“Please,” he groans. “Let me.” 

My head is spinning. “Let you what?” 

“Kiss you. Finally.” His hands move to cradle my head, making me feel delicate, like something special. His minty breath is close to my ear, setting off an ache low in my belly. “I need to kiss you, O’Brien. I need it.” He leans down and kisses the corner of my lips in the most torturous, exquisite way. My heart is beating wildly in my chest when he puts his soft lips on mine for the first time. My first kiss is an amazing one. He bends his head, and his mouth finds mine with soft pressure. I thought he would be rough or impatient may be clumsy, but I didn’t expect the gentle way his lips caress mine. The way he coaxes my own lips apart before I’m even aware of it. My knees buckle, but he holds me firmly against him. He kisses me as if this wasn’t our first time but our last. It’s the most erotic moment of my life, but all too son Drake leaves my lips. I only feel urgency. Want so deep that it burns inside of me.  It has existed between us all along, hasn’t it? Not one-sided. A yearning pull between two people, orbiting each other in the earthly, incongruous setting of school. 

Drake opens his mouth to say something, but my name is shouted in the distance. From inside the house. With glittering eyes, Drake drops his hands to his side, though it obviously pains him to do so. He gives me a chaste kiss on my cheek. One second later, the back door of my house opens, revealing my father, his imposing frame backlit by the interior. 

“Alexis!” I start to tremble; I try to speak, but I can’t. ““What are you doing out here this late?” There’s a tight smile in his voice. “Did you come out here to retrieve the handyman?” I do a double-take, noticing the strain forming around the corners of Drake’s mouth. 

“Handyman?” 

“Yes.” My father chuckles, coming forward to clap a hand down on Drake’s tense shoulder. “He’s here to repair a leak in the attic. Liam called you by the way.” Drake can’t look at me now, his gaze cast over my shoulder. Empty. A minute ago, we were equals. But my father’s words have called into focus one very important thing. I’m rich, and he’s very poor. It just didn’t matter. To me, it still doesn’t. But the economic divide between us is deepening by the second. 

“Why don’t you get to it?” My father suggests to Drake, his tone hard. “Alexis has to study. She is going places.”

 I down my gaze to the ground, humiliation burning up my throat. My father is an expert at belittling people, and he’s just done it to Drake. I want to say something to make it better, to defend Drake, but I know I’ll only be making it worse. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to offer Drake an apology. At school. I’ll talk to him then. 

“Yes, sir,” Drake responds stiffly, turning on his boots and stalking toward the house. Behind his back, my father reaches over and digs his thumb into my bicep until I double over, releasing a silent scream. He lets go a moment before Drake glances back over his shoulder, eyes hooded, and my expression is serene. Because I know better than to let anyone see the pain. My father has never been physically abusive, but his temper is getting worse. He hated mom and he’s taking it out on me. As soon as we’re in the house, I run up the stairs to my room and lock the door, leaning back against it. Listening to Drake’s boots walk back and forth in the attic. More than anything, I want to go up there. Feel his hands on me again. Cherishing hands, instead of hateful ones. I ache for that. For him. But an hour later, Drake leaves, and that’s when I face the consequences. My father knocks on my door. When I open it, the look on his eyes let me know it’s going to be worse than usual. 

“If I ever see you talking to that boy again, so help me God, I’ll kick you out of this house.” His face is contorted with rage. “Then, I’ll ruin him, too. I’ll make his life even harder in this town. You know I can do it. I can have him cast off that filthy land and no one will ever hire him again. Is that what you want?” 

“No,” I whisper. 

“No,” he sneers, mocking me. “Never look at him again. Do you hear me? My daughter does not associate with penniless dirt. The only boy you’re allow to date is Liam Rys. No one else.” 

“I won’t. I promise.” 

“See that you keep that promise. Or you’ll both pay the price.” And I pay a good deal of it that night when dad slaps me for the first time. The next day at school, I don’t look at Drake in the hallway. I don’t pause in the doorway of our classes, absorbing the sight of him waiting at the desk behind me. I simply keep my head down and try not to show the bruise on my cheek. On my body and my heart. I could never have predicted he would hate me for it.

 Drake

 Two years later 

I walk past O’Brien in the hallway and slam my fist against the locker to her left, making her jump. Shame, frustration, and resentment have been like a poison inside me, rotting my bones every second of the last two years, ever since that night in her garden when she tricked me into thinking she felt the same. Maybe she did. Until her father reminded her that I’m nothing but a poor handyman. Yeah, she remembered pretty quickly that she’s better than me. Good enough to date a rich quarterback like Rys but definitely not a low life like me. Rich, stuck-up brat. What’s worse is that she fucking ruined me with those lips. She brought me to my knees. Made me reveal myself in ways I’ve never done with anyone. And now? Now she’s left me lonely and fuck-starved for two years. Obsessed with her, unable to let her go and hating her guts for it. Because she won’t even look at me anymore. I’m nothing but the dirt beneath her spotless sneakers. Two years ago, I decided that if she was going to make my life hell by ignoring me after what we shared, then I could return the favor. So I do. By tormenting her. That’s the only term for it. I torture her, and I hate that—I fucking hate it—but so be it. My jaw is close to shattering as I watch O’Brien calmly collect the books from her locker and hurry toward our next class. On top of being a bully, I’m also a masochist because I still trick the school into having the same five classes every year. My aunt Leona works in the front office, and she feels bad for me because of my dad dying and my mom abandoning me when I was still in middle school, leaving me in the trailer alone. Not bad enough to invite me to live with her family, but bad enough that she slips me O’Brien’s schedule every semester so I can match it to mine. Before I follow her, I stop at her locker, sliding something in it, and continue on my way. When I walk into class behind her a moment later, I slow to a stop in the doorway at the sight of Rys kneeling to speak with O’Brien where she sits at her desk—cajoling a smile out of her. She refused to date him two years ago, but fucking Liam didn’t get the memo. No one has as much money as his father in this town. If  Rys is asking her out again, she’d probably say yes. If I let it get that far, which I won’t. I never do. She’s mine. Only mine. 

[thisisthehardestthing]

18+

GOLD

TENDŌ SATORI X FEM!READER

Pleasant & Strider Present: Fantasy AU Writing Collab. This is a loving dedication to my favorite fairytale as a child: Rumpelstiltskin. 9k words of smut, I apologise for it’s length, but it has to mirror Tendo’s big dick energy, y’know. wordcount: 9,300 Warnings: yandere-ish, virgin reader, oral (receiving), fingering (receiving, penetrative sex, one derogatory word (whore), cheating (this is just to be safe). Nothing too wild, but it’s hella dirty. Tags: @joyousandverywarlike​​ I love you wifey, thank you for beta-reading before we both crashed. Thanks for the eternal hype @whats-her-quirk​​ you make my heart sing! @pleasantanathema​​ , @present-mel​​ and @linestrider​​ . I am so, so happy to have met you three xx

> MASTERLIST HERE <

GOLD.

You pace the small space of your house, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath your weight. The King summoned your father three days ago, and by your calculations, he should be back any minute with news. Your eyes are downcast, watching your bare feet shuffle across the floor, the tattered hem of your skirt rustling with each movement. You sigh, smoothing down the white of your apron and catching a glimpse of your reflection in the polished tin on the wall.

Huffing, you turn away and close your eyes, not wanting to see the worry laced in them. You are a pauper, your father a poor miller. There must’ve been a terrible reason for his presence to have been so urgently demanded at the court. The land has been in crisis for a while now; businesses have started shutting down, and you fear that it is now your small family’s turn to be thrown out onto the streets.

The doorknob twists and the heavy door swings open as your father steps across the threshold, removing his grey cap, cheeks sallow. His best clothing no longer looks dapper but rather worn in, lackluster.

“Father! Welcome home,” you exclaim, throwing your arms around his neck, bringing him in close to smell the lingering scent of a mare and travel. You can tell something is off from the way he half-hugs you, grip weak around your waist. You pull back, that gnawing fear in your gut itching its way up your spine.

“Pray, tell me, what did the King want? Must we shut down the mill?” you ask, helping him to undress, taking his single-breasted coat from his frail shoulders. Was he this small when he left? He chokes back a sob, clutching his chest with one hand to cup your cheek with the other.

“Oh, daughter, my sweet, beautiful daughter,” he begins, his palm sinking to your shoulder, his voice watery as he continues, “that was his original intent, yes.” You feel the weight of his hand pull you beneath the earth, yet there is some hope in your chest as you suck in a sharp breath.

“And what of now?”

“I’m sorry, my darling, I’m sorry,” your father repeats his words, hanging his head before meeting your stare with a shaken one of his own. His lower lip trembles beneath his thick moustache, and you clutch his hand in a vice, it’s ice cold. “I don’t know what I was thinking, it’s madness.”

“Tell me, please.”

“The King asked me if I had anything worth more than the mill to barter with, to absolve us from not affording the tax, and I replied with you, my daughter. You’re worth more than any precious metal to me.” Tears begin to pool in your fathers eyes, and your hands tighten around his, unsure of where the conversation is heading.

“I had told him that you are the most beautiful maiden in the kingdom, however, he cares not for beauty but for material possessions, and without thought I exclaimed that you could spin straw into pure gold,” he says. You gasp, releasing his hand as if made of ice, the cold burning you.

“Father!”

“I am to send you to him by tomorrow evening. You’re to leave on the morrow. I will pray that your beauty is enough for our King to be merciful.”

Merciful? The King is anything but. You feel your world begin to crumble. How are you to spin straw into gold? That is a power only the Fae possess, and you tremble at the thought of what will happen once the King realizes your father has lied.

***

The looming gates of the castle are opulent, brass shining bright in the late afternoon, glinting against a peach and lilac sky. You have ridden on your father's mare through the day and can feel your thighs twitch from the exertion. You’re weary from the hot sun, the travel, and your frantic nerves twist knots in your stomach. Soldiers in fine armor stand to attention, and although they do not move, you can see how the men leer at your features, feel the difference in status crawl over your flesh like spiders.

Although you are wrapped in a dark green cloak, you feel bare beneath their stares, as though they can see the beige shift dress. Clutching its opening tight against your body, you keep your eyes straight ahead to avoid contact with any lingering gazes. You dismount, giving your horse a final stroke before you follow servants into the stone castle.

They walk fast, and you struggle to keep up, taken aback by the marble floor. The stained glass windows litter a rainbow of colours against the white stone, dancing across your skin as you walk through it and into a large hall where King Ushijima is waiting for your arrival. He’s handsome, but the scowl on his features twists your intestines, knotting them intricately. As you move closer, however, his eyebrows begin to relax and lift, his eyes widen, only slightly, taking in your appearance. You keep your head bowed in respect, eyes on the tips of your leather slippers peeking out from beneath the cloak.

The servants excuse themselves, and the doors close. All you hear is the beating of your heart and the drumming of the Kings fingers against the armrest of his throne.

“Lift your chin, girl.”

The King’s voice is gruff, commanding, and you find yourself obeying and straightening up tall so that he can see your face. He huffs, standing up and walking down grey stone steps that seem to glitter in the candle light and the last of the sun. The red of his coat is akin to blood, and it sweeps graciously around his tall frame as he stands over you.

“I thought your father was lying when he said his daughter was the fairest maiden in the Kingdom, yet he has proven me wrong. It gives me hope that the other claims he has made are not false and you may not hang in the morrow after all,” he announces, peering down over his nose at your frame. “Follow me.”

“Your Majesty,” you curtsy, and trail behind the King as he leads you through the high ceiling hallways of the castle, up and up and up the stairs, to a wooden door.

He pushes it open, the weight of the door pulling a groan from the iron hinges and steps aside for you to enter. The smell hits you first, earthy and overpowering, and you see towering piles of straw completely covering the floor and walls. In the center sits a spinning wheel in a pale birch. Your heart drops to your stomach and you feel the colour drain from your face. This must be a dream, a cruel, cruel dream.

“You have until the sun rises to transform all this straw into the finest of gold, or I will have to sentence you for trickery.”

With that, the King shuts the door. You hear the lock turn with a resounding clank. The room is shrouded in darkness and you fall to your knees, sobs uprooting in your chest at the predicament you find yourself in. You tug at the ribbon of your cloak, letting it fall open to the floor as you cry, the tears silver in the light of the full moon shining through the window.

You sob for a while, tremors shaking your body as you curl in on yourself. You barely notice the door open an inch, pale fingers curling around the side before a head with hair the shade of pomegranate peers at your sunken figure.

“Oh, ho ho! What have we here~?” a lilting voice shocks you. Your head snaps up to watch a figure bound into the room. He is tall, waif-like, with heavily lidded eyes. Your breath is snatched away as you gaze upon his hair that seems to stand on end, as though wind travels through the air, but the room is still and the window shut. The door was locked, how did he enter?

“Why are you crying, little girl?” The strange man asks, bending over at the hips with his long fingers reaching out to lift your chin up, wiping at the tears under your eyes. You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry, feeling embarrassed for your weakness, and being called young. You are of proper age at three and twenty.

“I have to spin all the straw into gold before the sun rises or I will be hanged. It’s an impossible task and I’m not sure what to do!” you begin to cry again, the tears streaming down your face and slipping down the nimble fingers that hold your jaw. The stranger tuts, tilting his head as he regards your solemn appearance.

“It’s not impossible. What will you give me if I complete this task for you?” There’s a smirk on his lips, and a glint in his garnet eyes that ensnare you to fall into them.

“I have nothing on me to give, I am a pauper,” you whisper, ashamed of your low class. The hand withdraws and you see him stretch up, a hand on his hips as he waves at your body in a grand gesture, fingers seemingly bending backwards.

“False, you have your beauty, and I am a lover of beautiful things~,” the song in his voice then drops an octave as he asks again, his eyes narrowing as if you’re prey, “so what will you give me in return?” You ponder his words, feeling blood flush your cheeks at being complimented by someone so boldly.

“I can only gift you a kiss,” you finally say, pushing up to stand. He eagerly grabs your arms, tugging you close, against his chest. You smell spice and the green of the forest after a heavy rain, transporting you to a far away land, an escape.

“I accept this trade~.” His lips crash against yours, soft pillows melting into your skin. He tastes like molasses, sweet yet dark. The kiss is bruising and his hands wander across your back and down to your waist, pulling you ever closer, letting you fall drunkenly into the taste that is him. He pulls away too soon and you have to bite the protest from escaping your lips.

Humming an odd tune, the stranger sits down at the spinning wheel, picks up a handful of straw and weaves it into a glittering gold thread. It takes only three turns of the wheel before the bobbin is full and he picks up more straw. Like this, he works throughout the night until all the straw has been transformed into precious metal. You’re still drunk from his touch, mouth agape at his elegant movements, and when you next blink, the work has been completed with plenty of time before the sun is to rise.

Wordlessly, he rises from his seat to tower over you, cupping your face delicately between both palms, he plants a lingering kiss to your forehead. He resumes humming, a devious smirk on his mouth as he saunters out of the room and the door closes behind him, the click of the lock echoing in the stillness.

The sun rises, and the King walks through the door with a purpose, expecting for you to have failed at the test. When he sees the glittering gold in the morning light, his eyes darken and a smile splits his face in half as greed consumes him.

“You can live for another day, but do not think you are liberated yet. I will need you to prove it to me once more as this could be the work of illusionment and fade throughout the day,” King Ushijima booms. Turning on his heel, he strides out the room, ordering you to follow.

He leads you into another stone room, this one larger than the previous, filled with even more straw to the top of the ceiling and you start to feel dread claw up your ribs, piercing your skin. There’s no telling what would happen the following morning.

“Turn all this straw into gold by the morrow and I will let you live,” the King states, and curtly exits to leave you alone with the scraps of your freedom.

You spend the entire day in the room, pacing and crying at the thought of failure. When night falls and casts its shadows, you hear the door click open and a familiar tune carry through the air. The handsome stranger from the night before curves around the door, peering at your frightened yet hopeful body. The moon is brighter tonight, almost full, casting a glow around the room and onto your skin.

“Miller’s daughter, you need not cry~,” he sings, making you freeze at the mention of your father’s profession, but the tears continue to pour down your face. He closes the distance between your bodies with two steps of his long legs. His flaming hair wafts around him as he wipes the salted water from your cheeks.

“What will you give me tonight if I spin this straw into gold?”

He notices your brow furrowing and sees how you swallow down your nerves. It makes him want to chuckle at the depravity of his question. You are so innocent, and so desperate for help.

“You are a maiden, are you not? Unwedded, unbedded?” The stranger asks you and he feels how your cheeks warm beneath his palm, letting his smirk twist into a wide smile. You nod, shifting awkwardly under his hold. He drops his cool hands to your shoulders and his skin is the colour of porcelain in the moon’s light. “Then give me your first sexual death in return.”

You step backwards, bewildered, unsure of his advances. You can’t let a man defile you in a way that is meant for your husband, yet here he is, requesting something so perverse. The memory of his lips against yours, the weight of his palm into your waist, flood your mind and you forget to breathe. The straw seems soft enough, your head swims. The King’s warning echoes in a chill up your spine, so you agree to his offer, which is met with a cunning grin.

Either you weigh less than a feather or he’s strong as an ox when he lifts you by the waist and over his shoulder, the round of your ass in the air, which he playfully taps and elicits a squeal from your tear-swollen lips. He hushes you while spreading a pile of hay with his foot.

“You cannot be too noisy, little girl~” he sings, placing you gently on your back, crouching between your ankles, “we wouldn’t want anyone to hear you.”

He seems utterly feral as his deft fingers ghost over your calves to thumb the hem of your simple shift dress. The fire in his eyes burns with impatience as he bunches the fabric up over your knees, to the gentle curve of your thighs where the hem of your breeches end, until it's on your waist. He takes a deep breath, you hold yours, and with your heart beating in your ears, the drawstring of your undergarments comes undone.

You realise he’s humming that strange tune when you shimmy out of your modesty, and the song hitches in his throat when your untouched cunt comes into view. It turns into a low moan and then a whistle, throwing the cotton pants behind him.

“Your sheath is as beautiful as your face, cunning as it calls out to me.” There’s no hint of rhythm in his voice, but rather a deep vibrato as lust takes over and he licks his lips. It makes your heart throb, pounding in your chest and in the delicate skin of your sex.

He lets his strong, long fingers knead the flesh of your thighs, smooth and supple under the glow of the moon, inching them upwards. You bite your bottom lip to keep from sounding out, sure in the fact that a guard may pass at any moment. The wine-haired man shuffles forward, pulling apart your legs until you’re spread for him, accessible. You can feel the blush start from your pubic bone and catch fire all along your body to heat the very top of your head. His intense stare summons your need to shut your knees but he lays down to his stomach, wedging his body so that you are at his whim.

“Has anyone ever touched you here before?” he asks, the palms of his hands so large they cover the meat of your inner thigh, his thumbs ghosting over your outer labia. Your head falls back in shame— no, anticipation. His movements are precise, teasing, and you shake your head to answer him.

“No one, you are the first.” You say silent thanks to the Lord that your voice is unwavering, breathy, and the strange man’s eyes darken to sangria.

“Lucky me to be the first to taste the sap of your fruit, your ripe nectar~!”

His thumbs glide over the soft casing and into the fold between your inner lips, unfurling them, your clit jutting out as the skin pulls taught. You suck in cool air as the nerves tingle against his warm breath. A second passes, and then three more and you’re almost tricked to relax when you feel a wet muscle press against the opening of your cunt. You shiver as he moans, the tight muscles tingle within you; your spine lifts into a delicate curve in response.

He wastes no time in making you writhe, lips encasing the displayed clit and sucking powerfully. You feel yourself drop into him, hands flying down to grab his hair, fingers burying themselves in his locks. There’s immense pleasure, instantly. Tiny shockwaves travel outwards from his mouth into your feet, and they curl in the straw, bending, snapping, folding them beneath your toes.

Soft whimpers escape, struggling to keep them contained as you bite down on your lip. No sooner than a minute must’ve passed for you to feel the heat building in your chest, the tips of your ears burning and your core clenching.

It feels as though a spring winds itself, tighter and tighter, your walls oscillate and spasm around nothing and his warm tongue laps at your slick and sucks at your clit. It draws alphabets and circles, spinning you into a dizzy haze and when he inserts the tip of one of his long, magical fingers, you lose it, snapping that cord within you.

The moan you’re holding back releases, freeing your soul as your eyes roll to see the stars in your mind, a bright light, la petite mort. Your body goes rigid and you can only see black, think of nothing but your own ecstasy as it rolls through your body, tremors in your skin.

The finger withdraws, the mouth gives a final suck, jolting you, and then a lick to lap up any remaining juices before the nymph-like man in front of you sits back onto his haunches. He leaves you trembling in your orgasm, analytical eyes absorbing the far away look on your face.

“And how did death feel~?” he asks, likening your orgasmic wave to an ascension to heaven. His voice returns to a playful tune, coaxing you back to earth.

“I’ve never known such pleasure,” you admit with tears in your eyes and longing in your voice. There’s a small bout of shame in your chest from greed at wanting another, from him.

“Now, you do, hmm,” he hums, trailing off into his signature beat as he stands and begins work on the straw.

You watch him from the ground, tugging up your undergarments with heavy limbs and smoothing your shift down. With three spins of the wheel, the handful of straw is transformed into a full bobbin of gold. The curve of his spine hunching over the machine ignites a curiosity in your mind. Who is he? What does he want? Why is he helping you? But the focus in his eyes, the cheery tune he hums and light tapping of his feet forbids you from asking him these questions.

He’s a savior of your life, there’s no need to know the reason.

The nymph works until two hours before dawn, at some point you drift off into a light, sex-induced slumber, but wake the moment he stands and stretches his popping spine. He gives you a final look, sucking on the finger that was in you, before skipping out the door, humming. It shuts with a click, the lock back in place. You are to live another day.

***

You hear a cock crow thrice before the door opens and the King stands, almost as broad as the frame. The gold in the room reflects in his amber eyes and in the glint of his adornments on his cloak and crown. You curtsy low until his voice booms.

“Arise, girl. You have kept your word and so I will keep mine, your father is free from his debt.” He rubs his chin, rings catching the rising sun as he muses out loud, “however, with a daughter like you, it’s a wonder there were dues to be paid.”

You curtsy again, saying your thanks, expecting to leave the castle and be back in your village by the following day, but King Ushijima has other plans. The sight of all the gold has swallowed his mind with greed, and the thought of being the richest King in the world is a goal that is so near, so attainable. He peers at your frame, slender from malnourishment, your simple garb, the way you instinctively shrink under the gaze of someone with so much of a higher rank than your own. It’s enticing.

He leads you to a third room in the granary, larger than all the others, the center of his stores. He sees the confusion and worry on your features, waving his hand around the room as he explains.

“Turn all this straw into gold by sunrise tomorrow and I shall take you as my wife.”

The glint in the Kings’ eyes is dangerous. He thinks that even though you are but a miller's daughter, low born, he will never find a richer wife. There’s no room for refusal as he turns to leave, ruby red cloak flurrying behind his tall frame and the door shuts for the third time that week.

You’re dazed, swaying uncontrollably as you fall to your knees, the stone floor bruising. The thought of becoming queen makes you giddy, nauseous, terrified. Although you’ve had help these last two evenings, what’s to say the stranger will appear again? And at what cost will it be? Tears prick your eyes, and you think of the last time you were happy; when you weren’t trapped in an exchange for your life.

The sky melts into orange, geranium, the sun falls below the skyline. Your heart follows, dropping to your stomach as it turns and you dry heave. The lock clicks, the door swings open, and that familiar, welcoming hum returns. The stranger practically hurtles into the granary, fingers like the crest of a wave as curls and swings from the ends of his arms.

“Innocent girl, why are you crying again~?” he sings, stooping low to cup your tear-stricken cheeks. His fingers are cold against flushed skin.

“I am to turn all this straw to gold by sunrise. He will make me queen if I succeed and if not, I cannot bear to consider the consequences!” you wail, peering into the quizzical vermillion eyes of the waif, nymph, or whomever this magical being is. His laughter echoes in the room, deafening your ears with it’s cadence.

“And what will you give me if I complete this task for you?” the question is not a surprise, but you have no answer, shaking your head as your lower lip pinches between your teeth in regret.

“There’s nothing left to give.”

The hands on your cheeks grip harder, fiercer, beneath your jaw to pull you up to standing.

“Nonsense, you are a virgin, are you not? Let me do this for you and in return, give me your maidenhood.”

His request is so shocking, so taboo, that it takes you several seconds to comprehend. Your mouth drops, heart hammering away at an unfamiliar beat in your ears. You tremble. There’s no way you can give him what is meant for your husband. He seems to register that thought as soon as it flies through your mind. His hair crackles like lightning, standing on end, his eyes are dark and stormy, and although he speaks with a song, his words are dangerous, dragging you beneath the waves.

“Surely, your virginity is not worth your life?”

With nothing to barter with but your body, you wonder if there is an alternative. Will the King realise you have been tainted if the marriage is consummated? You hope he does not. The stranger's tongue clicks, his hands fall from your face to leave the skin cold and you feel the desire for their return coursing through your veins.

“Time is wasting, Miller’s Daughter, do we have a deal?” his question flips over in your mind, your fingers wring together as you stare up at the looming figure. There’s impatience in his eyes.

“Yes.”

He claps his hands together gleefully, before interlacing them and stretching overhead. Tonight, he doesn’t collect preemptively, sitting down at the spinning wheel to begin. A hand full of straw is scooped up, the wheel spins thrice and the bobbin fills with glittering gold thread. It clatters to the floor as he begins on the next spool, his work methodical and timely. You watch him for a while, the way his heart shaped face is complacent, as though it was second nature to practise this magic. He hums that strange tune. His skin is milk under the pale glow of the moon, and suddenly, you’re thirsty.

Memories of the previous night play through your mind, clear as though a mirage. The way his eyes surveyed you over your mound, the obscene noises you made when his tongue dipped into your tight hole. It leaves you dizzy, breathless, and the enormous room is all of a sudden too small, too confined. You begin to pace. He never stops his humming. The sound bleeds into your pores, into your veins and pumps through you. It calls you to touch him. It’s wrong. You can’t. The night drags on and you don’t notice his song stops, or that he’s standing behind you.

His hands snake around your waist, pulling you back against his chest so that your head hits the firm muscle beneath his tunic. His nose finds refuge in your hair and with his inhale, your breathing stops.

“Mmm, you smell like fresh snow,” he mumbles into your skin, the meaning behind his words not lost on you: uncorrupted, untainted. It sends shivers down your spine and there’s a crackle in the air as every muscle in your body freezes.

His palms drift lower to rest on the meat of your thighs, digging to inch the fabric up slowly, methodically, until the hem is in his grasp and he pulls it over your head to leave you near-naked in the gold-filled room. Your bloomers are tied in a simple bow that loosens with a tug, the cotton dropping down your legs. You haven’t taken in oxygen yet, your lungs screaming at you to breathe, your knees trembling under his shadow. You gulp air hastily.

It is not that you do not want him, in fact, your body craves the very touch he bestows. You’re frightened, anxious at the implications of the act you’re about to perform. He spins you around, and you find those ruby eyes glinting down at you with ravishment, devouring the apex of your nipples in the full moonlight before tracing the length of your collarbones, the line of your neck and jaw, and feasting on your lips.

The way the lid of his eyes wilt, pupils widen, instinctively ushers you forward and into his waiting kiss. Your lips barely touch before his tongue darts out to swipe yours, tasting you impatiently. He’s waited far longer than he usually would to take what he wants, and he’s almost reached his limit. You’re pliable in his grip, body bending and arching with his palms, pressing your bosom flat to his chest. With rough fingers, he trails them up your spine, inciting a moan from your throat, filling the room with a richer sound than the clinking of golden yarn. He almost falls apart at your whimper when his teeth nip at your lips.

His hands advance up, scorching before touching the base of your skull, fingers wrapping around to grip the soft skin of your neck beneath your ears. His palms are so large, manipulating your body so that your jaw tilts up, away and you lean back onto his forearms. His lips slide from yours, trailing fervent kisses down the column of your throat. It’s all you can do to keep up with his strokes. Your lack of experience is evident when your hands dangle lifeless at your sides, almost touching the floor as he bends you backwards to lay down on the hard stone.

It’s sobering, clammy, welcome against your heated flesh. The stranger continues his descent. You feel gravel pressing into the blades of your shoulders, and you shift unpleasantly. All is forgotten when your right nipple, trembling and painfully erect, is captivated by a silky, moist touch. Your saviour suckles, bites, licks, and the static in your skin begins to crackle at his touch, threatening to spark. Luckily, there’s no more straw to ignite a fire. Your left breast is stimulated by massaging presses, five fingers gripping roughly, but not enough to bruise. No, there will be no trace of his defilement on you tonight, for now.

The other hand trails down between your legs, dipping experimentally into your slick folds, testing the waters. Your wetness had begun to grow when your imagination raged earlier, in truth, you don’t think it disappeared from the night before. You bite back a moan as a finger toys with your clit, the shivers current your spine in small convulsions. There’s a warning that you might come undone with just this, and he feels it too, the pulses of your walls contracting the muscles of your lower abdomen.

As though controlled by the impending orgasm, your body moves. Gripping his wild hair harshly, your jaw goes slack, eyes rolling to see nothing as the explosion rips through your body. He does not stop sucking at your nipple, flicking the bud harshly, a finger tracing lazy circles to your clit as you fall back into your body. His lips move to the side of your breast, planting increasingly desperate kisses into the plump flesh. Your grip does not loosen, it follows the winding of his head as it trails to overwhelm your collarbone, your throat with heavy licks.

You can feel a fresh burst of slick drip from your slit. He catches it knowingly and his face lifts from your skin to peer into your eyes. He brings his coated finger to your parted lips, pressing your nectar onto your tongue. It’s tart, musky, unlike anything you’ve tasted before. You swallow it down into your aching stomach, feeling the flames of your orgasm dwindle. You want more, and he sees it in the hungry way you suck. And oh! How he wishes it was his cock sheathed between your plump lips.

“Isn’t it splendid~?” he sings, pumping his finger in and out of your mouth, your tongue curling around to massage the individual knuckles automatically. There’s a heavy silence in the air, your breast is squeezed. You realise he’s waiting for you to answer, even with your mouth full.

“Yesh,” you fumble with the syllable, warmth spreading to your cheeks and he seems glad with the answer. Removing his finger for his palms to push up a knee, he leaves a gentle kiss on the bruise from your morning fall into despair.

You’re spread for him. He only then realises how clothed he is. He retracts his touch, tugging his tunic over his head to reveal smooth, unblemished skin that reflects the golden thread and garnet hair. He’s a stained glass window of colours, an inferno burning bright. It’s breathtaking. There’s a trail of red hair, enticing you to look lower, beckoning you to discover what is underneath. He doesn’t remove his breeches completely, choosing instead to loosen the leather lacing on the front, the fabric splaying open to unveil phallic gold. It makes you squeal, the implications of what is upcoming ramming into your chest, your body humming with ferocity. An eyebrow quirks up in response, along with a simpering chuckle.

“How amusing,” he quips, wrapping his large hands around an equally thick and long cock.

“Will it fit?” you can’t help but ask. Surely not. His laugh is raspy in response, erupting from deep within him rather than on the tip of his tongue like his usually lilting words.

“It will. Or I will make it.”

There’s something in his tone, in his ambitious stare, that sends your skin into overdrive, shivering and vibrating with anticipation. You’re openly waiting, nerves fissioning and calling out. He answers. Your mouth drops open, gasping in shock. It's so soft. And wet. The head of his cock slides up between your folds, tapping your sensitive bundle of nerves teasingly. He’s teasing you, making your hips shake and twitch. A hand comes to stabilize you, pinching the bone. Your eyes are wide, heartbeat in your ears and cunt and when you lock stares, time freezes as his hips move.

You’ve never seen a wider grin on someone’s face. It’s wild, face splitting, imitating your stretching slit as he slowly inches in. There’s a low whistle, a hum, turning into a chuckle as you feel a pressure unknown begin to build within. It’s choking, your throat swelling and with no inhibitions, you moan. Heaven above, hell below, all listens attentively as the desire to be sinfully fucked explodes in your womb. Your hands scramble to grip onto something, him, slinging them around his neck to pull him low. There’s a grunt, his breath tickling your ears, and a jerk of his hips as he sings,

“How needy, how desperate, How infinitely tight and perfect~”

It melts into your skin, the same rhythm as the hums you’ve grown accustomed to. The wind of his words fan flames, your eyes rolling back to escape the heat. But oh, how it’s inside you, boiling in your veins and you clutch on tighter as his hips rock into yours. Each pulse of your walls around his cock makes him vibrate, giddy as he pulls out an inch, only to sheathe himself in completely once more. He hears your whimpers against his neck, so soft, so delicate, not enough.

He sets into motion, plucking your limbs from around his neck, pinning them above your head as each snap of his hips jostles your being. Your simpering cries turn into moans and before you realise it, you’re screaming out for God and his Angels to witness the rapture happening within these stone walls. The man keeps a hand on your wrists to secure you, the other to your sensitive breasts, pinching and massaging as he grins salaciously.

Those fingers trail down the soft skin of your stomach, watching as it leaves indents against your skin before the flesh plumps back up. He raises goose-pimples, your shivering spine clenching your cunt tighter. Each thrust sends a ricochet through your body, bouncing it up before it falls back in rhythm. His blunt nails trace from bone to bone of your hips, lowering until it runs over the tuft of hair on your mound.

There’s enchantment in his eyes, reeling you in deeper, lulling you into a sense of security. A thumb finds your hooded nerves, grinding down until you see stars on the roof of the granary, past the glowing face of your savior. Has the ceiling fallen away? How magnificent. They reflect in your eyes, in the shine of drool on the corner of your lips, your tongue darting out to lick it up before you suck down.

“More.” The words are a caress to his ears, and the smile on his face splits wider until it swallows you whole. All you know is his touch.

He can feel you slipping beneath the waves, your silken walls oscillating around his girth. He leaves your wrists to grab your right thigh, lifting it so that it rests on his shoulder. With your hands now free, they fly out, pressing into the stone floor like trying to stay afloat as the swell of the ocean begins to ripple within you. It’s torrential, the rain within, and unlike before, when it was just his fingers, the dam explodes.

You feel perfect wrapped around him, dragging him down into the depth of the sea along with your desire. He doesn’t want it to end, no, he can’t let it end. He pistons his hips, the rhythm knocking the air from your lungs as he nears his release. The stars above give way to black, then white, and he sees it in your face as you reach a higher plane of existence, one he knows only he can provide. That fire returns, lighting up your insides, evaporating the spray of the ocean, making room for the foam of his seed to take place and fill you.

His hips slow, the fluids within you stirring around until you’re dizzy. Your thoughts can’t be strung together, mind blank. Satisfaction ripples in every corner of the room: carnal and raw. It can be tasted on the air, like the salt on your skin. He withdraws from your swollen walls, adamantly watching as the efforts of three days trickle out of you. His pounding, soaring heart drops as he thinks of the morning. He’s grown addicted to you, he realises. You’re his. This cunt should be no one else's, he’s ruined you for all men, he’s sure of it. It’s dangerous, this feeling in his chest, the plan hatching in his mind. You will not be able to forget him soon.

The rise and fall of your chest is soft, your body exhausted and blissful as you’re already in a post-orgasmic slumber. He traces your skin with open palms, seeing the way you react, even asleep, to his touch, committing your curves to memory. You’re angelic, surrounded by gold. His gold. He stands, limbs heavy, before snapping up to stare at your splayed out frame from above an upturned nose.

“I’ll see you soon, Queen,” he hums beneath his breath, waving his hands so that you’re dressed again, clean and tidy, prim and proper for the King to inspect the room within an hour. He skips out the door, the bounce in his step a little more pointed, sharper, and the lock clicks back in place.

***

You’re sour, like wine stored in the sun. Once married to the King, he promised you that you never had to work another day in your life, the gold spun from straw enough for twelve lifetimes over. And he was right. Your days are spent doing nothing. You have time to spare, and more often than not, you find your thoughts drifting to a red haired stranger, his face contorted in lust, desperate for the taste of your skin. It has been a year since your encounter with him.

It’s midnight, a waning half-moon. There’s no sleep. It has been avoiding you every night, so you lay awake next to your husband. The rise and fall of his deep breathing does little to lull you, and your body is charged with a sexual fire. You’re unsatisfied; richer than you could’ve ever dreamed, but unsatisfied.

Like many nights now, your fingers creep beneath the silk bed sheets to swirl at your ignored sex. A soft sigh kisses your lips as your nerves tense up at the touch. Before you can stop yourself, you hum a familiar tune that melts into your skin as you stroke to the rhythm. With your eyes closed, you picture that strange man that brought you to a place of such intense pleasure, something you had not felt since that night. The next morning when you woke, you had only the residue of what he left behind between your legs. That was the only proof that it was not a dream.

Like the swell of a wave, it begins to crest. You spread your ankles slightly wider, tapping the King’s legs delicately. He stirs but doesn’t wake. He never does. Your hums come out in ragged breaths as you imagine every thrust, every pinch against your body. And when his hands grip around your neck, you almost break against the shore of your orgasm. The familiar smell of forest wafts around you. Are you so starved that you can conjure up scents and touch?

Your eyes fly open, staring up at twinkling rubies above. A dark grin is spread onto a face you had not seen for a while. A cool hand is against your throat, floating up to palm your lips and halt a squeal that would’ve flown from between them in shock. He raises a finger to his lips in a signal to keep quiet, eyes darting to your husband face up next to you. He hums lowly before he whispers to you.

“What do we have here~?” his voice carries a jovial, teasing tune, releasing your face to peel back the edge of the sheets and reveal your naked form. You cover your breasts with one arm, the other snaking down to press flat against your quivering sex. Your orgasm had been so close before it was snatched away, the thoughts blazing through your mind nothing except immoral.

“Does the King not satisfy you, millers daughter?” he pokes at your thigh, hard fingers trailing up, leaving burning lines that sink into your pores greedily. You swallow down the rising heat in your body, the shame of being seen touching yourself.

“I am queen now,” the husk in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by the strange man.

“Ah yes, but you are still your father’s daughter,” the pinch of your hip jolts your being, and you snap your legs shut, the bed bouncing slightly. King Ushijima grunts, rolling to face away from you and the intruder. You let out a shaky breath that you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“What are you doing here?” you ask the man, slowly sitting up right, shielding your lower body once more with the covers. His grin falters at your actions, feeling a tightening in his gut at how you hide what’s his. He swallows down his fury, standing upright. His form blocks out the little light trickling in from the moon outside the window.

“I had come to steal you away from the comfort of your new life,” his eyes flicker to the back of King Ushijima, his voice hushed and low, disdain dripping into his words, “it’s the only proper way to pay for my skills, afterall.”

You swallow down your nerves, feeling a pooling of heat between your legs at the thought of being carried far away, somewhere wild and unknown. It’s an escape you would not be against. Long fingers reach to caress your hair, picking up a strand to twirl it. He inspects the way you shiver under his touch, feeling pride at the reactions he can evoke from your body, but his eyes are hesitant. You may very well not want to leave behind all you have gained in the year.

“Please do.”

That same grin reappears on his lips, splitting his face wide open with giddy pleasure. Oh! How he was not expecting the night to unfurl like this at all. He can feel the desire roll off your skin in waves, and he drinks it in. He can’t give you what you crave so easily, he must play a game with you first.

“Oh ho ho, miller’s daughter, how desperate you are! I can taste it.” he sings, palms boxing either side of your thighs. The touch doesn’t dip the bed, as if he is made of air.

“I will give you three nights to find out my name, or I will leave you here with your eternal longing for more than what he can bequeath,” he propositions, the words dancing around you. How badly do you want to feel such pleasure again? You barely have to think.

“Three nights,” you agree.

With a squeal, he leaps away from your bed, skipping over to the door of the chambers. It’s a miracle the sleeping King besides you remains asleep. Or it’s magic. Head swinging around to looking at you with such intensity, you almost melt as he says one last thing.

“Don’t touch yourself until then.”

***

That night, you have no rest. All the names in the world run through your mind, but how are you to know which one is his? You spend the day compiling a long list, feigning it as names for a future child with the King. ‘You are getting old, I must have an heir within the year.’ It was a curt discussion, not one open for arguing. It is also why every night has been loveless tumbles, only leaving your core soaking with his seed, but nothing grew inside you.

The sun sets below the horizon, the moon rising and you sit next to a warm fire in your chambers. The King is passed out on the bed, fast asleep and unaware of your musings. You can feel how the slick inside you trickles out, unwanted but you resist the urge to wipe it away. It is your wifely duties, after all. Instead, you focus on calming your nerves, trying to untangle the knots in your belly before the strange man visits. He enters, skipping soundless as he hums under his breath.

“So, miller’s daughter, what is my name~?” he flops unceremoniously onto the floor next to you, head coming to rest on your lap. His lidded eyes stare up at you expectantly, a knowing smirk on his face at just how difficult of a challenge he has given you.

You begin to list the names compiled, with each name, he shakes his head, ‘that is not my name,’. As the night drags on, he tantalises you with what you so badly want. The laced hem of your night dress is hiked up around your knees, his unabashed fingers cloying with the soft skin of your thighs, inching closer to your dripping cunt.

“Abel, Balthazar, Oikawa, Hisoka,” you recite, each name getting huskier as he teases you. He barely touches you, instead feeling the remnants of the Kings spill, before pulling back and standing. The movement jostles you.

“The sun is rising, you have two more nights.”

His usual lilting tone is gone, voice hard. He wipes the semen on his finger against the black of your dress, leaving a patch of white, and strides out the door without looking back.

The next day, you send out messengers and knights to scour the town for new names, asking every servant in the castle for theirs. As evening creeps up and your nightly tossle with the King ends, you clean up all that is left over with a dampened washcloth. The stranger peers around the door, taking in the sleeping figure of the King before floating into the room. The static of his gaze as it rakes over your skin catches flame, and the fire beside you seems to dim against the red of his hair.

He leans over you, hands gripping the arms of the wooden chair as he asks you the question. You begin to list the stranger of the names you’ve heard, Martinko, Rumpelstiltskin, Melchior, but each time, he replies that it is not his name. His breath ghosts over your face as you speak, his eyes closing to listen to the whispered cadence of your voice. Instinctively, you widen your legs for his to slot between. He falls to his knees, cheek once more pressed against your thighs, lips mumbling quiet no’s into your hips. With a deep inhale, he smells that you are clean tonight, and it makes his heart soar. His fingers come back to stroke beneath your dress, a deep forest green. You don’t stop saying names.

“This task is impossible,” you whisper out of breath. He had two fingers up to his knuckle inside you, pumping lazily as you recite. Like many times throughout the night, he stops his movements at the brink of your collapse, pulling back to suck at your nectar. He licks his fingers off fluidly, trapping your gaze in a trance.

“You have one more night, or you remain unsatiated,” his grin splinters at your will, a groan tearing from your lips in the quiet room. The crackle of the fire had stopped hours ago. The King twists on the bed, mumbling under his breath at the noise.

“Hush, miller’s daughter, don’t be so desperate.” the man warns, standing and skipping over to the door, humming as he shuts it behind him.

On the third day, you ache for sexual release. The opulent castle walls seem too small for you, and so you wander around the forest just outside the walls. With the sun shining overhead as you stroll, it warms your skin to the degree of the never ending heat between your legs. The earth is soft, and with each step, you seem to fall in deeper to the ground, wanting it to swallow you until you’re no longer charged and lusting.

You are seconds away from turning back when you hear a familiar hum, except this time, there are words. You hide behind a tree, peering out at a small clearing in the woods. Red hair dances like the fire in front of him. The stranger moves around the fire in a trance, celebrating something unknown. You strain to listen in on the words he sings.

"Today I dance, tomorrow I sow, In the evening, I will steal her away from home. And oh! I am glad that she does not know, That the name I am is Satori Tendō!”

That night, you can barely contain your gaiety. You even enjoy the love-making your under enthusiastic partner pounds you with. You take in his heavy touches, the way it doesn’t bleed into your skin, but rolls off like oil with water. It’s your last night with him after all. He’s deep asleep, you had slipped something into the drink he has after the ritual.

You’re waiting for Tendō to enter the room, humming his tune under your breath as you pour wine into your chalice. The nightdress you’ve worn is a red, like the seed of a pomegranate or the sky when the sun sets, the colour of his hair. Sturdy arms wrap against your waist to pull you back against a muscled chest. He laughs into your ear, nipping at the sensitive skin.

“Tell me, Queen,” he spits the name out as though it was too bitter for his taste, “what is my name?”

Feigning ignorance, you list names for the final time. ‘Jack, John, Harry’, hands stroke up the back of your legs, dragging the linen up until your bare ass is on display and pressing against a growing bulge behind you.

“That is not my naaame~” he sings, kissing the side of your neck. Cupping your breast with one hand, the other snakes between your thighs to swirl around at the mess he coaxes from you. You can’t hold in the whimpers, tearing up at the touch given to you after almost a year of loveless sex.

He had introduced life beyond living in those three days, and it was so close now, you can feel it between your fingers. His name is on the tip of your tongue, but you bite it back. It’s not the right time. He folds you forward, your chest resting on the table top, your head turned to see your sleeping husband, so blissfully unaware of the presence in the room. Tendō pulls at the strings of his pants, letting the leather slip down his toned thighs, lining up the head of his cock with your pulsing core.

“Daichi, Bokuto, Ryunosuke,” you mumble out, shifting back against him to feel the silken hardness poke at your folds.

“No, that’s not my name, miller’s daughter,” and he presses in. With all the strength you can muster to not scream out, your knuckles grip the table's edge at feeling so stretched out.

“Oh, fuck,” you swear, the crude word not suitable to pass from a lady’s lips. It sparks a chuckle from the man thrusting into you. He inches in, knees going weak at feeling your walls wrap so deliciously around him once again.

“What’s my name?” he asks, the snap of his hips with each word. Your body jostles against the table top. You moan, clenching around his thick dick.

“Tendō.”

He freezes, twitches inside you, and you hold your breath in anticipation. A large hand wraps around your hair, pulling it up so that your back curves, tightening the space that clamps down on him between your legs.

“Who told you?” the question seeps into your skin, chilling your bones with their weight. He begins to pound into you again, pace picking up considerably to attempt to rouse your husband from his sleep. The sleeping aid you gave him is strong, but you still worry he would see you, not that it would matter after tonight.

“No one,” you moan, pushing up against the wooden table to try and lessen the tug on your scalp.

“Lies!” he roars, fury fueling his thrusts. Although he is getting what he ultimately wants, he has lost the game of cat and mouse. You have won. Oh, how his blood boils. A hand snakes around your throat, squeezing as he fucks into you with ferocity. You cry out, whimpering his name over and over again. Each time it leaves your lips, he feels his anger dim, and instead begins to revel in how the syllables tease his ears, echoing in the room.

“Who told you, whore?” he asks yet again, not expecting you to react to the rude name. It’s all it takes to fall off the cliff within you after three days of bringing you near the edge. Your skin is on fire, being called a ‘whore’ bristles your nerves, scratches you, and you need more, another orgasm, another death to ascend higher.

“No one, I swear,” you retaliate by bouncing back against each thrust with as much vigour as what he pours into you. “I saw you- uh, in the woods, singing.”

He slows, stills, and leans to kiss at the moist skin of your exposed shoulder. With a smile, he manages to twist you around, unsheathing for a second, only to reenter when you’re seated on the table. Legs spread around his waist, you cross your ankles behind his back to draw him closer.

“A promise is a promise, Tendō,” you whisper, arms locking around his neck to pull him close to your lips. “Take me away from here.”

You close your eyes in the kiss, tasting sweet molasses, smelling rain and dirt, and when you open them, you’re not in the castle anymore. Trees reach up past where you can see, multicoloured stars shine in the night sky. You laugh, the sound bubbling from your chest, and Tendō grins, dipping to litter kisses along your neck. His hips begin to move, your fingers curling into his hair as you moan louder than ever before.

You are free.

-------------

fuck, this is long. sorry! I hope you enjoyed it.

MASTERLIST HERE

[ladyaj-13]

28th Appreciation - October edition

Welcome to my (still just about October 28th in my timezone) appreciation post! Under a cut as usual, this month featuring Lilo, Tomlinshaw, Nouis, Narry, Ziam and, of course, buckets of Larry recs too. If I missed any tumblr people tags just let me know.

Lilo

slow to acknowledge the knots in our laces - dicktective - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] – 14k, M – gay chicken, canon compliant. I love me some Lilo and I love oblivious Louis and this fic has both of those things in spades – so if that's your thing, give it a read.

Do it right - MissLii - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own]@pandadepanda – 2 k, T – wedding pact. So sweet. This is like little shot of serotonin, just lovely.

Tomlinshaw

Use You As A Warning Sign - Jiksa - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @jiksax – 2k, M (and it's sequel, also 2k, M) – These fics. The perfect balance of spice and sweet, some clear issues on Louis' part (and behaviour accordingly) and Nick's refusal to put up with that. One minute it's all cute quips about coats and then it wallops you in the feels and even both parts together its only 4000 words, how did she do that?!

Maybe I'm A Liar (But For Tonight I Want To Fall In Love) - orphan_account - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] – 22k, T – fake relationship, arranged marriage, Nick is pretty much Nick but Louis is AU, as are the rest of 1D. This is layered. Louis is the wild child, but as the fic progresses you see why that is, and the way the relationship slowly grows between them is wonderful.

Nouis

how the heart bends - temerity (forsanethaec) - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @1dgaf – 46K, E – amnesia, exes, post band – I thought I'd read all the long plotty Nouis fics and then I stumble across this one, and it's amnesia fic as well! So good.

Marcel/Louis

City of Blinding Lights - Anonymous - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] – 13k, E, WIP – Miss Congeniality AU. One of my favourite films and this fic (currently 2/6 chapters) is such an amazing start, keeping true to the feel of the original without being scared to make changes. I'd love to read more if the author chooses to continue it.

Narry

So Much Love Hidden Beneath This Skin - FallingLikeThis - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @fallinglikethis – 10k, T – friends to not friends to friends to lovers, internalised homophobia, self-acceptance. I think my first Narry fic? I liked it; the conflict and then the resolution were done in a really natural and realistic way, and I loved the extra dimension of their past friendship.

Ziam

you're like a sunshine - lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes) - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @lightwoodsmagic – 6k, M – comic book artist!Zayn, personal trainer!Liam who is muscly enough to be a pose model. This is full of awkwardness and sexual tension and so very sweet.

Imagine it's already broken - wordsnnotes - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @quelsentiment – 6K, T – enemies to lovers, musician and YouTube music critic. Listen, new Ziam fic is like gold dust to me. And this one is so well done and tips from this great antagonistic dynamic into something really hopeful. Happy sigh.

Larry

The Only One (when it's said and done) - LadyLondonderry - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @londonfoginacup – 6k, T – alpha/beta/omega dynamics, nesting, packs. Soft, warm, and lovely. Louis taking care of people, which I love. It only posted in June and I've already read it three times.

Don't Let It (Me) Break - falsegoodnight - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @falsegoodnight – 168k, E – AU, exes to lovers, insecure and sad Louis, potentially difficult themes so check the tags. Delicious angst and a great resolution that felt worked for and realistic instead of a sticking plaster.

A Hungry Heart - jacaranda_bloom - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @jacaranda-bloom – 27k, E – GBBO AU, famous/not famous, clichés. Who doesn't love a baking AU? This is really cute, and so much fun to play spot the cliché with! (Written for the cliché fest, the clichés are intentional :D)

led by your beating heart - missandrogyny - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @missandrogyny – 33k, E – famous/not famous, call or delete, radio 1. A new chapter added six years later?? Be stillmy beating heart!

I Didn't Fall For You (You Fucking Tripped Me) - allwaswell16 - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @allwaswell16 – 20k, E - alpha/beta/omega dynamics, pet lizards, pick-up lines, hate to love. This has to be a frontrunner for best title award, and the fic is just !!! Chefs kiss. Love it. It's cute, funny, and the dialogue is brilliant.

Shake Me Down - AGreatPerhaps12 - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @agreatperhaps12 – 208k, N/R – American/university AU (so I guess college AU, actually!), enemies to lovers, religion, internalised homophobia, OT5 friendship. It feels a bit reductive to describe such a sprawling epic in a few tropes like that, though. This fic is complicated, and I mean that in the best way. It's so utterly engaging and immersive that I read it, long as it is, in a single Sunday. Make sure you check the tags.

Cameras Flashing - juliusschmidt - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own]@juliusschmidt – 81k, E – famous/not famous, coming out, alpha/beta/omega dynamics. I love famous/not famous (you can maybe tell from this list) and this is such a good one with lots of great details like a (sort of) fabricated Louis/Zayn popstar rivalry.

(Won't You) Stay to the A.M. - lululawrence - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @lululawrence – 15k, M – famous/not famous, homelessness, fluff. This was really cute. I loved the attention to detail in this fic, as well as the treatment of a relationship within the context of differing power dynamics which was handled really well.

burn to ash - bethaboo - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own]@bethaboolou – 116k, E – canon compliant band reunion (but written 2014), alcoholism recovery, exes to lovers. This was so engrossing, so engaging, very well written, and I found it really interesting to read a fic that dealt with the band breaking up that was written before it happened.

Hold You Now - solvetheminourdreams - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @solvetheminourdreams – 131k, M – exes to lovers, slow burn, weddings. I was genuinely on the edge of my seat with this, there are so many twists and turns to keep you guessing! Poor Harry (and then poor Louis), so much beautiful tension and so much pain, it hurts so good. And Niall. Love Niall.

A Conspiracy Of Fanfiction - Almondtreeflower - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @almondtreeflower – 9k, T – marriage proposals, Louis writing fanfiction as a dare - this is super sweet and funny at the same time, with some really lovely details. A cute five times fic!

For Better, Worse And Mischief (I'm All Yours) - RedOrchid - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @actuallyredorchid – 37k, E – fake relationship, friends to lovers, canon. So, so wonderful. They're both complete pine trees. It gave me heart pangs.

I No Longer Feel I Have To Be James Dean - justletmegohome - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] – 35k, M – married at (almost) first sight. So much fluff! This is completely sweet and feel good and lovely.

How It Would Feel To Be Free - lovelarry10 - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @chloehl10 – 90k, E – royalty AU, kid fic. I had to stop reading this to work and it made me mad. Such a lovely story, full of feels!

If I Loved You Less - allwaswell16 - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @allwaswell16 - 36k, E - alpha/beta/omega dynamics, regency AU. I couldn't put this one down. I literally made myself late because I was 'just another paragraph-ing' for far too long!

Better Mistakes - lovelarry10 - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own]@chloehl10 – 117k, E - mpreg, cheating (not H/L). This is one I'm still thinking about weeks later. So, so good (and mpreg, generally, not really my thing).

The First Year - parmahamlarrie - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @parmahamlarrie – 47k, E – university AU, friends to lovers. This has so much lovely softness and snuggliness in it, it's like wrapping yourself up in a blanket. So much bed-sharing!

And Then a Bit - infinitelymint - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @infinitelymint – 158k, E – canon reunion, fake relationship, friends to lovers. Louis is... oh, Louis. Louis is so oblivious it's a wonder he can even function. This fic is a classic for a reason; so much deliciousness, just read it (or re-read, probably. This was my first time but I think everyone else has already got there before me).

Drifting, Weightless - dinosaursmate - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @dinosaursmate – 41k, E – canon compliant, post-1D, exes to lovers, cruises. I mean. What a fantastic idea for a story?! Maroon them all on a boat together with a load of fans and then sit back and watch. The author really pulls it off. Love everything about this.

The Murmur of Yearning - MediaWhore - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @mediawhorefics – 93k, M – regency AU, upstairs/downstairs. I got completely lost in the world of this one. Love estate steward!Louis and a special mention for valet!Niall, of course; Narry friendship is my weakness.

One More Time Again - orphan_account - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] – 232k, E – canon compliant/divergent, time travel, X Factor era. I think I skipped over this a few times; X-factor era is not my fave, over 200k is absolutely huge, etc. Then I clicked on it, and wow. Just wow. It's SO well written and deftly handles the age difference issues and I love the twist on time travel. I couldn't put it down. When I wasn't reading it, I was thinking about it. So good.

World Turned Over / Fireproof - orphan_account - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] – 15k, E - canon compliant/divergent, time travel, companion fic to the one above but the other way round. Also very much worth a read!

Lately You've Been On My Mind - lululawrence - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @lululawrence – 9k, NR – famous/not famous, YouTuber Louis, reaction videos. Louis trips over himself into stanning Harry Styles and of course, Harry stans him back (relatable on both sides). This is very embarrassing for Louis but super entertaining for us to read :P

one sole will survive - starryharry - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own] @lt2soon – 70k, T – Survivor AU, side Ziam, fake relationship. OMG. The twists and turns of this story were just delicious. The alliances formed and the backstabbing, and the Zouis friendship, and it all just rollicked along, it was wonderful. I don't know how people write this kind of thing though, just imagining trying to do so makes my brain hurt.

[ughseoks]

asterismos ⋆ 4

PAIRING; jungkook x reader

GENRE; angst, fluff, eventual smut / enemies to lovers / fantasy au

RATING; 18+

WORD COUNT; 4k

WARNINGS; swearing, weapons, blood, injury, fighting, ~magic~

SUMMARY; As far as you’re concerned, things like magic, prophecies, and fate are nothing more than fairytales. But when you accidentally bind your soul to a mysterious amulet you found at an antique shop, a group of seven warriors from a magical world inform you that you now hold the key to saving them all. The fate of the realm Elodia now rests in your hands, and you realize that you couldn’t have been more wrong.

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— banner created by the most talented human ever aka @kimtaehyunq​​ 🥺

Author’s note at the end!

“You know she’ll never join you, right?”

The man scoffs at the statement coming from the Elodian collapsed on the ground behind the metal bars of the cell. “You shouldn’t speak of things you know nothing about. I know that she’ll choose the right side; she’s my sister.”

The Elodian in the cell’s returning smile is a broken one. “Your time away from Earth has caused a rift to form between the two of you. She doesn’t even think you’re alive.” He stops to cough, the sound grating against the other man’s ears. “But beyond that, she’s no longer the little girl you once knew. Unlike you, she didn’t grow into a person driven by hatred and revenge. No matter what her relation to you is, she would never turn her back on innocent people. Your father holds no power over her decisions—although I’m afraid I can’t same the same about you.”

“Don’t you dare speak of my father in that way.” A wild look dances in the man’s eyes as he takes a few steps towards the occupied cell. “He was a man with a vision. You and the rest of the world were—and still are—too blinded by your foolish ideas to see it.”

The man behind bars smirks. “Those are bold words coming from someone who’s only half Elodian.”

An angry roar escapes the taller man as he thrusts his fist into the rocky wall beside him, a sickening crunch resounding in the small chamber upon impact. He lets out a small grunt of pain and allows his arm to drop back to his side. A soft blue light begins to emit from the wound, the broken skin and bone expertly weaving itself back together. When the glowing finally stops and all that’s left on his skin is dried blood, a tense sigh escapes the man’s lips, the angry glint in his eye giving away just how unstable he is despite his calm exterior.

“You were a fool for giving her the amulet. I know that she’ll choose my side in the end.” He turns to exit the dark room, only pausing to throw a final comment over his shoulder. “The glamour you placed on her is wearing off. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Which one…” you trail off, your eyes scanning the various weapons laid out before you, “Which one should I, uh, try first?”

Seokjin shrugs. “Whichever you want to, Y/N. You’ll know when you pick the right one.”

You nod slowly and continue to gaze at the various sharp, slicey, and spiky things being presented to you. The boys are peeking over your shoulder, and as much as you need their guidance for this, you also feel a bit overwhelmed with the amount of pressure on you. What if you make a fool of yourself trying to wave around Namjoon’s enormous greatsword? What if you accidentally shoot yourself in the foot with Hoseok’s bow?

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when Taehyung lays a large hand on your shoulder. “I know that this all feels a little overwhelming, but you don’t have to be embarrassed or worried about your lack of training, alright? We’re here to help you.” His voice is soft and soothing, and you find yourself feeling a little  more confident with his gentle encouragement.

You nod and take a deep breath before stepping forward to pick up a small throwing knife. Taehyung grins at your choice, stepping forward to demonstrate how to use them. You attempt to copy his expertly executed movements, but the knives all end up scattered across the ground rather than stuck in a tree.

“At least they didn’t end up stuck in any of us,” Taehyung jokes and ruffles your hair.

Slowly but surely, you make your way through every option until you’re left with Jungkook’s weapon—a broadsword.

None of the weapons have really clicked with you so far. Although you feel a little bit like you’re living out one of your childhood fantasies when you swing the various swords and knives around your body, none of them feel quite right in your gentle hands. The weight of them resting in your palm is foreign, and despite your best efforts, you just can’t seem to find a weapon that works with you.

When you raise the (almost comically) long sword into the air to test it out, you note that you can feel Jungkook’s presence from where he stands only a few feet away. Chancing a glance over at him, you’re surprised to see that instead of the irritated or exasperated expression you were expecting, he’s wearing a look that almost seems interested.

With a determined huff, you attempt to swing the sword in a wide arc, only to fall onto your behind when the unexpected weight knocks you off balance.

“It’s useless,” you sigh and hand the sword over to Jungkook with a downcast gaze, “The human in me just… cancels out the ‘warrior’ part of being Elodian, I guess.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Hoseok interrupts, “That isn’t necessarily true, Y/N. There’s still something we haven’t tried.”

“If it’s another weapon, it probably won’t end well,” you pout. “I think it’s pretty clear that big, sharp, pointy things aren’t really my specialty.”

“They aren’t mine either.”

You turn to look at Jimin. He’s standing a few feet away with his arms crossed against his chest, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. When your brows furrow in confusion, he drops them to his sides with a chuckle, taking a few steps forward to close the distance between the two of you.

“I never had an affinity for ‘big, sharp, pointy things’ when I was training to be a warrior,” he explains. You don’t appreciate his usage of air quotes around the former part of his sentence. “That’s why I turned to magic. It came way more naturally to me than physical weapons ever did. You might be the same way, Y/N.”

“Y-You think I could be a magic user? Even though I’m only half Elodian?”

Jimin shrugs. “We won’t know until we try. Here, give me your hand.”

Jimin’s fingertips are soft against your skin, the palm of his hand pressed to the back of yours. He crouches on the ground and guides your hand so it’s resting on the green grass below. Despite being warmed by the sun, the grass is still slightly damp from the morning dew, the small droplets wetting your fingertips where they press against the soft blades.

“Close your eyes,” Jimin murmurs from beside you, shifting his hand so his fingers are nestled between yours as you follow his instructions. The grass pokes at the palm of your hand from where it sticks out of the cool soil, and if you weren’t holding your breath in anticipation of what Jimin is about to do, you might’ve giggled at the ticklish sensation.

“I want you to picture a flower. It can be any kind you want; just make sure you stick with the one you choose.” He pauses for a moment to let you decide before speaking again. “Have you chosen?” You nod. “Okay. Now, I want you to create a clear picture of that flower in your mind. Be as detailed as possible, like you’re looking at the real thing right in front of you.”

Your eyelids flutter closed as you follow his instructions, your brow knit in concentration. Jimin’s hand is warm on top of yours, and as the image of the flower in your mind grows clearer, the heat from his hand grows warmer along with it. Tingles of warmth climb up your arm all the way to your shoulder, your heart rate increasing as the sensation grows stronger.

After a few seconds, the feeling of the grass on the underside of your palm begins to increase from a light tickle to a steady pressure—it takes you a moment to realize that it feels like something is growing beneath your hand.

When the pressure ceases, Jimin retracts his hand from yours, allowing you to pull your own hand away once your eyes are open again with a gasp.

“Did I…” you trail off as you stare at the beautiful tiger lily sticking out of the ground where your hand once was. The vibrant orange hues of the petals are just as bright as you imagined them—brighter than any tiger lily you’ve ever seen in real life. “Did I do that?”

Jimin nods whilst smiling proudly.

You gulp, “I… but you helped me, didn’t you? When your hand was on top of mine.”

“Here in Elodia, our full powers and connection to the magical realm must be ‘awakened’ by a magic user,” Hoseok speaks up, “Jimin awakened yours.”

“All I did was teach your body how to tap into its magical abilities,” Jimin smiles, “The rest of it was all you.”

“Woah…” You trail off and reach out a hand to touch the flower. The petals are soft against your fingertips—and surprisingly warm, too.

“Jungkook, wasn’t your awakening flower a tiger lily too?” You hear Taehyung speak up from beside you, a knowing smirk lighting up his face.

“Yes.” If the blush on his cheeks means anything, Jungkook seems uncomfortable with Taehyung’s line of questioning.

“You know what they say about matching awakening flowers…” The blue-haired man trails off meaningfully as Jungkook shoots him a glare.

“Shut up, Tae.” Jungkook growls the command, but there’s no real malice behind it, and Taehyung simply snickers in response.

“What are awakening flowers?” You pipe up from your spot on the ground below. In all honesty, you’re starting to feel a little bad about asking so many questions all of the time—but you’re in a totally different realm where magic exists. You’re bound to have at least a few questions.

“They’re the first flower that an Elodian grows during their magical awakening,” Namjoon supplies helpfully. “Taehyung was referring to the popular belief that having identical awakening flowers is a sign of being each other’s Bonded.”

Jungkook is blushing furiously now, his gaze trained on the ground at his feet. You don’t blame him—you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as well.

“It’s just a myth, though,” Seokjin reassures you before placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Lots of people have similar awakening flowers. No need to worry about being Bonded with grumpy over there.”

“Hey! I am not grumpy, hyung—”

“Yes, you are.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“Are you two going to keep arguing?” Yoongi interjects with a sigh, “Or can we get on with saving Elodia?” Jin stifles a chuckle at the angry look on Jungkook’s face, only to let out a yelp when the youngest juts out an arm to elbow him in the stomach.

“Anyways,” Jimin smiles at you, “I think that you have a lot of potential. I would love to train you and teach you how to use your magic to its full extent—that is, if you want me to.”

“I…” you trail off, unexpectedly strong emotions bubbling up in your throat.

Maybe it’s because for the first time since you’ve arrived in Elodia, you feel as if you just might belong here.

“I would love to train with you, Jimin.” You get a little choked up at the end of your sentence. Jimin’s gaze softens, and the amount of love that you see sparkling in his deep brown eyes is enough to open the floodgates.

Tears begin to slip down your cheeks, the salty droplets leaving streaks as they fall relentlessly. You do your best to wipe them as they fall, but it’s of no use—they’ve already seen your tears, and you’re too emotional to keep them at bay.

“I just…” you sniffle, “The entire time I’ve been here, I’ve felt like a burden. Like I’ve been holding you back and somehow preventing you from completing the mission. But now—now I feel like… like I can finally do something to help other than just... stay out of the way.”

Jimin nods in understanding. “You’re not useless, Y/N, even though you often believe yourself to be.”

“Thank you.” Your voice is barely a whisper, but you know they hear it anyways.

“So, Jimin will work with you on your magic skills,” Namjoon speaks up after a few moments of silence, “And those will most definitely prove useful in our journey, I have no doubt. However,” he sighs, “I believe that there is still the matter of your lack of hand to hand combat skills—which will inevitably be crucial to your survival at some point in the future.”

You nod. “Can’t Jimin just help me with that as well? Since he’ll already be teaching me magic.”

“I don’t think I’m the best suited to teach you,” Jimin frowns. “Although I can most definitely defend myself, I’m not the person you should be learning from—especially considering that we have such little time to prepare you for what’s to come.”

“Jungkook can teach her.”

You turn to face Seokjin fast enough to feel a twinge of pain in your neck. But before you can say anything, Taehyung is already speaking up.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Seokjin?”

You flinch, expecting Jungkook to scoff. But he never does. Instead, he looks ashamed, gaze downcast as he clears his throat nervously.

“What happened last time… it won’t happen again.” He lifts his head to lock gazes with Seokjin, a hard look of determination set on his face. “I promise.”

“Y-You really don’t have to if you don’t want to—”

“Nobody is forcing him to help, Y/N,” Seokjin cuts you off with a reassuring smile, “He volunteered.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook is looking everywhere except you, the tips of his ears tinged red. You have to fight to keep from staring at him in shock.

“Shouldn’t she have her own blade?”

Your attention is pulled away from Jungkook at Yoongi’s question-comment, a curious look in your eyes. “Am I even allowed to have one? Aren’t they only given to warriors?”

“You are a warrior,” Hoseok smiles, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Sure, you need a little training, but the mentality of a warrior is what’s most important—and you have far more courage than you seem to know.”

What the hell is with these insanely attractive men complimenting you? You swear, you’re going to have a heart attack one of these days.

“It’s not that I disagree,” Namjoon interjects, “But where are we even going to find her a blade? They’re normally gifted during our warrior officiation ceremonies, and

“I have one she can bond with!”

Namjoon turns to Taehyung in shock, his look of disbelief mirrored on the other six Elodians in the group. “Taehyung! That—That’s illegal! Why the hell do you have a spare sacred blade?”

Taehyung shrugs. “Someone dared me to steal it a few years ago, so I did. I’ve been holding onto it since in case of an emergency like this.”

“You stole a sacred blade because of a dare?” Namjoon balks. “You could be stripped of your title as a warrior!”

“It was a triple dog dare! I couldn’t just chicken out!” Taehyung defends, “Plus, it came in handy, didn’t it?”

Namjoon lets out a heavy sigh. “I can’t believe you. We’re going to have a serious talk sometime about who you choose to hang out with.”

“Okay, first of all, you’re not my dad. Second of all, Jungkook was the one who dared me to steal it, so why isn’t he the one getting in trouble?”

Jungkook makes a noise of protest when Namjoon’s sharp eyes land on him. “I was only kidding when I said it! I swear.”

“Liar,” Taehyung pouts, yelping when Jungkook gives him a harsh shove.

“Anyways,” Yoongi interrupts, a small smile tugging on the corners of his lips, “Since Taehyung is conveniently in possession of a highly sacred blade, you can simply bond with it and use it as your own.”

“Bond with it?” You question, “How do I do that?”

“I’ll show you,” Jimin smiles, “Don’t worry; it’s really not that complicated. I’ll explain more tonight when you’re about to bond with it. Okay?”

You nod, and Seokjin reaches out to give your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Half-Elodian or not, you’re going to become a true warrior tonight, Y/N. Be proud.”

“Jimin. Could you be any more vague?” You mutter in frustration, “I know literally nothing about magic and sacred blades and Elodian sparkles and shit. You’re gonna have to be more specific than telling me to ‘let the blade take control’. Like, what does that even mean?”

Jimin raises an eyebrow at you as you continue to speak, mouth quirking up at the corner when you end your small speech with a frustrated huff. “I’m sorry that I can’t give you more concrete instructions, Y/N. But I’m telling the truth when I say that the blade will do most of the work for you, and this experience is different for everyone. It’s deeply intimate; the sacred blade is making a connection with your soul. I can’t tell you how your bond with it will form, only give you what I hope is helpful advice.”

You groan, dragging the palm of your hand across your face tiredly. “Sorry. I’m just… I’m nervous, I guess. What if I do it wrong?”

“It’ll be alright, I promise. Just the blade—and trust yourself. You’re part Elodian; I know you have it in you.” He reaches up to give your cheek a gentle pinch before taking a few steps back. “I’ll leave you to it. You may feel emotional when the bond is formed, and that’s completely normal. Just shout if something goes wrong, alright?”

“O-Okay. Thank you, Jimin,” you smile, eyes never leaving his back until he disappears from your vision altogether behind the trees.

Once you’re alone, the noise of the forest around you is nearly overwhelming. Excited chirping and the rustling of leaves assaults your senses, the subtle sounds mixing together into a cacophony of chaos in your mind.

“Focus,” you whisper to yourself, reaching into the satchel handed to you by Taehyung to pull out the sacred blade.

Your fingers wrap around the hilt of the knife, pulling it out of the satchel so gently that one might think it was made of glass. The blade itself is only a few inches long, the sleek, black material glinting in the moonlight that filters through the tree leaves above.

Allowing your eyes to fall shut, you take a deep breath and try to focus on the way the blade feels in your hand; the grip is surprisingly soft against the skin of your palm, and it almost feels like it’s moulding to fit the shape of your hand.

As the seconds pass by, you begin to feel a tingling in the hand gripping the knife, the feeling growing in intensity until shivers are suddenly wracking your body. You open your eyes at the onslaught of sensations, eyes flying open when what feels like a bolt of electricity shocks you to your core.

When you open your eyes, you aren’t met with an image of the forest bathed in milky moonlight. Instead, you see a beautiful array of bursting colors—some of which you didn’t even know existed. They’re vibrant and filled with every emotion you’ve ever felt to the strongest degree; it feels like you’re tangled in the threads that weave your very soul together, but in the most beautifully inexplicable way.

It feels like years rather than moments before the colors fade and you’re left standing alone in the clearing. When you glance down at the knife in your hand, you’re shocked to see that it’s extended to become the length of your forearm, a swirling magenta pattern snaking around the meat of the blade as opposed to the blue lines in Jimin’s knife.

“Y/N?”

You glance up to see Jimin watching you carefully, a gleeful grin spreading on his face when he notices the glowing blade in your hand.

“You did it!” he cheers, running up to you to wrap you in his tight embrace. He pulls away moments later, hands immediately coming up to wipe away the tears on your cheeks that you didn’t know you’d been shedding. “I’m so proud of you, Y/N. You’ve come so far.”

“I’m a warrior,” you giggle, causing a bubbling laugh to fall from Jimin’s lips in return. “I-It’s so pretty, Jimin. And I feel… I’ve never felt… when it bonded with me…”

Jimin nods in understanding. “Your emotions are probably going to be running a little high until you get some rest. It’s expected after performing such an intimate ceremony.” He reaches out his hand for you to take, squeezing your palm comfortingly when you interlace your fingers with his. “Come on. I know a place where you can be alone with your thoughts for a little while; you probably need it.”

The place that Jimin shows you is beautiful. He parts with a gentle goodbye and a promise of returning within the hour, leaving you to take in the beauty of the scenery in stunned silence.

It’s a scenic overhang that gazes out across the expanse of the hilly forest of Elodia, a sea of glowing flowers illuminating the grass that sways in the gentle breeze. Seeing as the overhang isn’t shielded by any surrounding trees, a blanket of moonlight kisses everything you can see, the sight beautiful enough to nearly bring you to tears again.

You aren’t sure how long you sit out there, feet hanging over the edge of the rocky edge of the overhang when a voice announces its presence from just a few feet behind you.

“Is this seat taken?”

You nearly topple over the ledge at the sound of Jungkook’s voice, clearly not expecting to see him out of all people right now. Too shocked to speak, you simply shake your head no and scoot over a bit, holding your breath when he plants himself just a foot away from you.

“I wanted to say… that I’m sorry.”

That catches your attention, head swiveling to look at him with wide eyes. His gaze is focused on where his feet are swinging back and forth in the open air—a nervous habit that you seem to be mirroring.

“You’re… sorry?” you finally manage, voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook nods. “I’m sorry. For the way I’ve been acting towards you. It’s—It’s unfair to you, and no matter what my personal feelings are regarding the situation, it doesn’t warrant me treating you so terribly. You didn’t ask for this, yet you left your entire life behind to fight for Elodia.”

“It’s not like I had much of a choice,” you mumble humorlessly. Jungkook tenses beside you.

“I know. But you’re still doing your absolute best to help, despite it all. Despite the treatment you’ve received from me.” He exhales slowly. “So I’m sorry. You’re not a burden, and you never were. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Jungkook…” you murmur, trying to find the “I…”

“It’s alright; you don’t have to say anything.” He finally looks up at you. “But I’ll make it up to you. I promise I will. Nothing bad is going to happen to you again; not on my watch. You’re Elodia’s last hope.”

He pulls his feet back up onto the ledge and stands before extending his hand out for you to take. You stare at his outstretched palm for a few moments before acquiescing and allowing him to pull you up from your spot on the ground.

“We should head back so you can get some rest,” he says once he releases your hand, nodding in the direction of the campsite in the woods. “We have a long journey ahead of us.”

a/n; wow. it has been quite a long time since i’ve updated this fic. i’m sorry that this update is so short & for it taking so long :( school has been A Lot & i’ve been working really hard on a big project to post later this month. but! i finally got off my ass and finished writing this chapter. think of it as an early christmas gift.

i apologize for any inconsistencies 🥺 it has been a long while since i dusted off this fic & worked on it, so not all of it is fresh in my brain. i also did not edit this before posting so i’m sorry for that too. i’m also sorry for how utterly horrible the pacing is for all the previous chapters bc i went in and reread them a while ago and... oof. ya girl really rushed that ish. maybe one day i’ll get to rewriting them so they’re better <3

TLDR; thank y’all so much for continuing to support this fic even though it’s been slow going with updates. your encouraging comments keep this fic alive 🥺 i love y’all!!! idk when the next update will be but i’ll do my best to have it out as soon as i can.

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[pastelsandpining]

Whumptober Day 3

sticks and stones may break my bones but...

taunting | insults | “who did this to you?”

kingdom come - corrupt!zelda au part 2 | part 1 | part 3

warnings: gaslighting, manipulation, death mention, cursing, survivor’s guilt

--------------------

From what little he could remember, Princess Zelda was nothing short of lovely. She was the sort of kind that came from a genuine place, unlike the fake kind that so many had offered him because he was the one burdened with the sword. Even when she was mean to him in the beginning, he could see the good in her heart, the passion in her voice, the brilliance in her mind. She was a girl willing to do anything for her kingdom and for people who didn’t even bother believing in her. She was so painfully human beneath the crown and the gods and the sealing power that it was impossible not to like her. The only thing she wanted above all else was to save her people.

And now, a century later, she was nothing short of cruel. 

For days, Link could not go outside of the Sanctum for fear of Zelda setting the Calamity loose on him. On Hyrule. 

“You can go,” she’d told him from her seat in the throne, looking every bit the queen she was always meant to be, “but he will follow you, and wouldn’t it be a shame if the Calamity was brought about by the very hero destined to slay it?”

And when she wasn’t in the throne, gazing out at her kingdom with blank eyes, she was toying with him in whatever means she saw fit. She’d long since made him discard the Champion’s Tunic in favor of the Royal Guard’s Uniform, telling him she’d always preferred how formal he looked in it. It disgusted him after that and he fought tooth and nail to keep the last piece of his Zelda he had left, because this was not her. 

“How loyal you are to a girl you remember so little about,” she said, tangling her fingers into his hair. He’d shoved her hand away from him and replied, for the first time since his imprisonment began, “You know nothing about me.”

Zelda smiled then, gripping his chin with enough force to dig her nails into his cheeks, and answered him very simply, “Oh, Link, I know everything about you.”

The worst part was that there was no malice to her. Her skin was pale and soft and did not hurt to touch, and her eyes were green and familiar with no trace of the pink or orange Calamity Ganon made him so familiar with. She was completely, wholly herself, and not herself at all. 

She was not terrible to him, either. She took caution not to hurt him, even when her grip became too tight or her nails caught his skin. It was the things she said, the empty gaze behind her eyes, the twisted smile that made her so unlike the Zelda he hoped to find. He almost rathered she bite him with teeth instead of words, hurt him physically instead of where she knew it would hit closest to home. 

Something had made her particularly agitated today. He didn’t care to know what. As long as she stayed far from him, he could continue his brainstorming of just what he had to do to get out of here without the Calamity or Zelda following him. The Calamity did not sleep. Neither did he–not peacefully, at least. He wondered if it was the same for her, then decided he did not care. Zelda didn’t stay in the Sanctum. Hylia knew where she went, but she would always return to torment him further, looking so much like the girl he’d once worn his heart on his sleeve for. It was painful, and he would be ever frustrated by his inability to grasp the stoic mask he’d mastered all those years ago. Something would always slip. She would always get him, whether it be a flicker of his eyes, a tug of his mouth, a twitch of his hands. She did know him, far better than he wanted to admit, and he needed to get out of there before she learned how to use that against him.

“Link,” she called out, her voice soft enough to float to him in the gentle breeze. “Come here, please.”

He did not move. He turned his back to her instead, continuing his work of cleaning the Master Sword. It wasn’t dirty by any means, but it gave him something to do and he quite liked the way Calamity Ganon reeled back at the sight of it glowing in his hands. 

“Link,” she repeated. He could hear the edge of growing annoyance this time. Link spared her a glance of his eyes in acknowledgement, but nothing more. Then she was in front of him, pulling the sword forcefully from his grasp and holding it out of his reach. “It goes against conduct to be so rude to the princess. Shouldn’t you know that? You’re supposed to serve. Answer when you’re called like the loyal little dog you used to be.”

“You’re not her,” he argued simply. Her laugh was deranged, bitter, and she used the tip of the sword to lift his chin, forcing him to meet her eyes.

“You don’t even remember her,” Zelda taunted, so bitterly cruel, and it twisted his heart just as it always did. “What did she do for you, Link? Left you pictures? Thirteen measly little shots of Hyrule, and they were all about her, weren’t they? So much for the Champions.”

Link pursed his lips in stubborn silence. He would give her no response, no satisfaction, but her eyes glittered as if he already had. He hated when she talked like that, because it solidified that she was not his Zelda, and stoked the flames of the fiery fear that she was long gone before he could ever get to her.

“You’re not the girl I died for,” he spat at last, leaning away from the sword before she could use it to impale him. He wanted a rise from her, to affect her in the way she was affecting him, but as soon as the words left his lips, he wished they hadn’t. Something in her eyes darkened and she tilted her head, regarding him with a frown.

“No,” she agreed quietly. The way her lips curved up into a beautiful smile was cruel. “She died with you.”

With those simple words, she threw the sword onto the ground by his feet, discarding his heart along with it, and turned from him to walk away. The skirts of her blue dress trailed the floor behind her and the sense of anger, of guilt, that washed over him did not want to let her walk away from him. She shouldn’t be able to. She shouldn’t have the right to keep him here, to toy with him, because of an obligation he had a century ago. When he’d agreed to face the Calamity, to find her again and free her of her prison, it was not this Zelda he’d made that promise to. So he did not hold his tongue.

“Who did this to you?” he snapped, standing to follow her. She paused in her stride and he took the opportunity to grab her wrist, but she yanked it from his grasp and spun on him with a sea of anger in her eyes. “Tell me, Zelda.”

“You will know your place, soldier,” she ordered, her voice cold as her hand gripped his chin again. “You will be careful of your tone when questioning my authority.”

“Zelda,” he repeated, softer this time. “Please. You owe me this-” 

Her grip tightened, her nails digging into his cheeks, and he knew he’d greatly displeased her.

“I owe you nothing,” she said, but her grip loosened and she turned away again. 

“I came here for you,” Link replied, the growing desperation evident in his voice. “Everyone asked me to help you. You asked me to help you. And everything I’ve done– It was all for you, Zelda.”

“It seems I was wrong to call you a loyal dog.” She turned back to him, the smile on her face wicked. “Perhaps the more fitting term is bitch. I called, and you obeyed. But now, the little puppy wants to bite back.” 

She set her hands on his shoulders and shoved before he could do so much as back away. His knees hit the marble floor and he had to stick out a hand to catch himself.

“Your bite always was bigger than your bark,” she taunted, and her expression was suggestive. Whatever she was implying, he couldn’t remember it.

“You’re being cruel.”

“Do you want me to be cruel, Link?” A slender finger lifted his chin. “Because this is nothing.”

“I want to know who did this to you, because this is not the Zelda that I-“

“Remember? Pray, tell, what do you remember? I’m actually rather curious.”

“I remember a girl so bitterly human that she gave everything for her kingdom.”

“And look where that’s gotten me!” Zelda exclaimed, stepping back from him so she could turn away. Link took the opportunity to rise from his embarrassing station, his eyes ever studying the fallen princess before him. Her shoulders did not sit as high as they usually did. Something in his words had stung her. If she wasn’t so mean, maybe he would have apologized.

“Human. Tch. Is that what you see? Perhaps you fail to realize that humans are capable of terrible things. Did you know that, long before our time, the horrid Calamity you see before you was nothing more than a man?”

Link reeled back, looking at her through furrowed brows. 

“Something like that did not come from a man,” he argued–it couldn’t have–but Zelda did not look at him. In fact, she carried on as if she hadn’t heard him at all.

“A simple Gerudo chief, longing for nothing more than to help his people. A people that distrusted him. Hyrule distrusted him. Sentenced him to death because they couldn’t bear the thought of a man who wanted to use power to improve lives. No matter how genuine he was, it was never enough. The Calamity and I are quite alike in that way.”

Calamity Ganon had shuffled closer, bowing to the princess before it, and she extended a hand to run her fingers through the matted, wild mane of red hair on its head. Link wanted to pull her away, to convince her that she was not like that thing at all, but he was too rooted to his spot in surprise to make a move.

“Hyrule tried to have him killed,” she continued, her voice quiet and far away. “As it would turn out, it is not easy to kill someone who holds an ancient power of the gods. You know that already, don’t you, Hero?”

She turned her head, looking at him out of the corner of her eyes, and his breath caught. He shifted, the struggle to maintain his composure getting the best of him, and he took a step backwards. 

“When they could not kill him, Hyrule chose a different route. They took him beneath this very castle and brought forth the Sheikah to pry the energy out of his body. For lifetimes, we have been living off of a dying man’s life force. How else was the Calamity able to possess ancient technology so easily? It is no wonder that Ganondorf harbored enough hatred to transform into malice–into the beast you see now. And Hyrule would expect me to seal him away, bury our sins along with him for another ten thousand years.”

It was all too much to hear. Too much to take in. But Zelda turned to face him and was relentless in her story. She did not give him time to breathe, to process all she’d said, before she was speaking again, backing him into one of the Sanctum pillars. 

“I sat alone, for one hundred years, and the Calamity was my only company. I was surrounded by malice, by whispers of his hatred, echoing in my head until it was all I could hear and I couldn’t breathe, but it was too late for anyone to care because everyone I’d ever held dear to me was already dead by the time I thought about letting it consume me, too. And then, when I thought all hope was lost, when I spent years watching that stupid shrine on the hill, waiting and waiting for your body to show any sign of life, it started to speak to me. And it was sweet. It understood me. It understood how so many of my people doubted me, how I doubted myself. It helped me in those lonely years, Link. I was going mad.”

She brought a hand up to his face, holding his cheek so tenderly that he couldn’t help leaning into it. He could see, now, the tears glittering in her eyes, the pain in her expression. She was familiar, then–just the girl sobbing in his arms as the world burned all around them. 

“I watched you die,” she whispered out, rubbing her thumb over his skin. “How am I supposed to be alright after that?”

Her words wrenched his heart from his chest. How guilty he felt then, for failing her. For selfishly letting her hold him in those final moments. For making her watch as the breath left his body. He would never quite be able to forget the way she looked down at him in such horror. 

“I’m sorry,” he replied, quiet as the wind. For failing. For making her wait so long that she’d been driven mad. Her smile was soft, weak, but genuine. He wondered vaguely if, when he held her in those woods in the midst of the Calamity, he’d wanted to kiss her then, too.

“Do you know who decides right from wrong?” she asked softly. Link shook his head. “The side you’re on. My side has changed, because I’ve decided that I don’t want the help of gods who turned their back on me as I groveled at their feet for the salvation of my kingdom.”

“So you side with the being that brought it to its knees?” he argued, pulling his face away from her touch at last. He felt so empty without it.

“What choice did I have?” Zelda fired back, her voice raising as she crumbled into hysterics. “The Calamity brought down the strongest people I knew. I’m hardly a quarter of what you all were. I did what I could, I sealed it, and then I realized that it was right. Hyrule should be destroyed! And if you think you’re here to slay it, then I suppose you’d better shove your sacred sword through me, first.”

Link stepped backwards, hitting the pillar again, and he felt like crying. 

“I can’t seal the Calamity without you, Zelda,” he tried, reaching a hand for her. She swatted it away, fixing her once vulnerable gaze into an icy glare.

“Then you’re not sealing a thing. You asked who did this to me, but you fail to see the obvious. I did this to myself, Link. You have no idea what it was like.”

She turned away again, filling him with an overwhelming sense of panic. No, he couldn’t let her walk away. This conversation couldn’t be over. There had to be something he could do, something he could say, that would bring her back, keep her from the hands of the Calamity.

“Why do you keep me here?” he asked, stepping after her. “Why do you—“

“I should think that would be obvious,” Zelda replied, pausing to glance back at him. “I loved you, you know, and you’re here on your own accord. You could leave rather easily if you pleased, but you stay. Why? Is it out of fear that Ganon would follow you? No, I don’t think it is.”

Link frowned, feeling sick. He wanted more than anything to ask what she meant by that, to press her further, but she kept walking and only said,

“You should pick up your sword. Wouldn’t want to offend the Goddess.”

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