#this got a bit ... more in depth than I intended

[gojosprettyprincess]

Both are twenty, degradation n praise, overstimulation. reader is cockdrunk n has a high sex drive :3 Not proofread!!!.

“S’good Yujiii Soo good, Mmm! Can feel your cock throbbing inside of me, ohh fuckkk!” you moaned out through gritted teeth, too caught up enjoying how deliciously his achy, abused cock was repeatedly curving into your sensitive g-spot over and over just the exact way you intended it to. You can’t even remember how long it’s been and well frankly you don’t really care. Too distracted by the overwhelming pleasure you're receiving by frantically bouncing your ass on his swollen cock.

“F-fuckkk, you’re so greedy baby Goddd, you look so sexy like this!” he huffed, letting out breathless curse—his fingernails digging into the plushy sides of your bouncing ass as goosebumps and adrenaline coursed through his bulging veins. He’s trying his very fucking best to keep up with you but God you were killing him. It got so bad that you’re more of a filthy sex fiend than he was in the past few overestimating days. Not that he was complaining but the way you’d randomly grab him by the shirt—fucking wrinkling it and pulling him into the clustered janitor closet just to feel his hard dick in your slobbering cunt at school with him pushed up against the cool wall and you manically throwing your bouncing ass back at him eagerly like little cock-hungry slut—forcing every last drop of cum from his thick balls to drain out into your horny pussy then pouncing on him four more times throughout the day at home has become a bit overwhelming…he’s trying his best to keep up with your crazy ass sex drive but fuck he was shooting blanks at this point.

His sweat-covered pinky bangs tickled his forehead as the moonlight from the illumining window glistened onto his milky abs. He bit his lips so many times that he probably ruined his gums by now, in a futile attempt to restrain his perverted urges at the way your tits were bouncing in fast circles. He’s sooo tempted to grab and fondle them but it’s like he can’t even control his own fucking body.

“Ohooo fuck! You’re stretching me so good around you Yuji, fuck I love you—Looove your cock so muchhh baby!” You cried out, tears welling up in your eyes as his pink tuffs of slick covered pubic hair grazes against your sticky clit—making the pleasure even more intense as more and more creamy rings formed at the base of his pretty cock.

They were hearts in Yuji’s eyes seeing just how much his little horny slut of a girlfriend was creaming on him, seeing you so desperate and addicted to his cock like a brainless zombie whore unlocked something primal inside of him that he never thought existed. He fucking loved being your human dildo to fuck yourself on, the thought of it made his cock throb feverishly right against your gushing, gummy walls.

“Jesus–mmmph! You’re such a nasty slut. Ohh shit-, is my cock all you ever fucking think about baby? bet you couldn't even last a day without my cock being up this needy, little pussy yeah?” His groans along with his filthy mouth filled the air as he gropes both of your fleshy ass cheeks—his fingers purposely kneading into it pervertedly as he feels you up like a creep.

You felt the mushroom tip of his length brushing against the depths of your cervix as you clamped around him harder, you playfully smirked down at him as you bent down slightly towards him to grab his biceps—moaning sweetly as you felt them flexing against your touch. “Y-yess! Need your cock inside of me at all times Yuji, gonna make me lose my mind, hnngh!”

“Yeahhh? My cock making you that dumb baby??” His sultry voice is weighed with exhaustion as he grants you a fucked-out smile. “Yuji, Yuji m’gonna cum again, fuckfuckfuck yessss!”

You continued bouncing faster and faster—grinding your hips against him fervently in the process to make it even more intense causing you to spasm around his girth, you can’t see it, but you are 100% sure his entire cock is covered in your cream. You can feel it.

Your head falls back, the strands of your hair cascading down like a waterfall. your lips parting to release loud, needy moans that mingled in the air as Yuji gazed up at you in awe, seeing you like this was one of his favorite things. You were such a mindless slut for his dick and he enjoyed it.

“I- m’cummming!” You cried out in a certain tone that was like filthy music to his ears, your cunt pulsated around his jumpy cock as streams of liquid gushed out of you, spurting every fucking where, on the bed sheets, spattering on Yuji’s abs, his thighs everywhere. Your body trembles as you try to process everything. You fucking came and squirted at the same time.

“Did you just-“

“I-“ was all you could let out before you felt the wind getting knocked out of you as Yuji suddenly gripped your branded ass that’s filled with his handprints and lifted his legs up a bit, thrusting with constrained force and fucking his throbbing, soaked cock into you with vigor. The lewd, nasty sound of “plah plah plah!” reverberated throughout the room your hands clutching the pillows tightly beside him, overwhelmed by the intense sensations.

“Yujiii, stop fuck! Too much—tooo muchh” you screamed in a frenzy. your thighs shivering as he relentlessly thrust deeper, splitting open your cunt even more with his animalistic pace. His pistoning cock brushes further against your sweet spots as it twitches inside of you. His poor, fucked out cock sooo desperate to cum.

“Such a lil fucking slut for squirting on me like that baby—God I’m gonna stuff you sooo full after this, it’ll be entwined into your slutty fucking brains”

You were so fucked out you couldn’t even fucking register what the hell he was babbling about.

It was so fucking nasty and hot, the scent of raw sex filled the air as both of your moans echoed throughout the room, at this point your eyes were rolling to the back of your skull in ecstasy as you were being overstimulated, your pussy pouring more juices onto his cock as beads of sweat glistened on his entire body.

“M’cumming m’cumming m’cumming Godddd love this fucking pussy!!” His hoarse voice exclaimed as he bit his lips, thick gooey ropes of warm cum filling up your womb as the two of you cried out in unison. You were so full, every inch of your pussy was stuffed so full of just Yuji, Yuji, Yuji. You’d be surprised if you weren’t actually braindead from his cock by now.

Your body collapsed on his sticky skin and you landed on his toned chest. both of you attempt to regulate your breaths as you cockwarmed his soft cock. Unfortunately Succumbing to exhaustion, you both drifted off to sleep in that position but within the next three hours, you were fucking him again.

[angelic--kitty]

dilf arlecchino stretching out a virgin reader on her fat cock

dom!dilf arlecchino x sub!fem reader

warnings: smut (minors/ageless blogs dni), wlw content, transfem!arlecchino, virgin!reader, age-gap (arle is in her late 30s, reader is in her early 20s), size kink, fingering, penetration, handjob

a/n: tagging my favorite silly @myfriendscallmebun who i hope enjoys this ♡ this is so long

she first hired you merely as a form of entertainment for her children. someone eager to please who wouldn't require such a large salary. someone who, at least, would never ask someone like her for more than she offered.

it's a surprising decision, on her end, to select a college girl to watch over her precious children. though, you presented yourself so nicely at the interview, and your references and resume did you well.

besides, it might be nice for the children to be around someone closer to their age for a change. they often spent time with arlecchino herself and occasionally her coworkers.

and, you had grown on her.

it's been nearly two months since you started working for her, and a few weeks since you began passing flirtatious remarks to one another.

the thing that finally melted her heart was an evening she worked late. she was already irritated her children would be asleep when she got home, but she felt guilty making you stay hours late at her home.

much to her surprise (and inner delight), when she came home, she found the children tucked into their beds, and you standing so sweetly at the door.

you had slipped her jacket off, hanging it up and tugging her into the kitchen. sure enough, you had saved her a plate of the spaghetti you made, along with a glass of her favorite red wine.

that was the day when she finally asked you to accompany her on a proper date.

and, now, here you are, standing in front of your mirror, fussing with your dress and jewelry. the dress she had bought for you special for tonight. it was black, falling just below your knees- rather classy for someone so young.

20 minutes. in 20 minutes she was picking you up.

nervous as you were, you couldn't believe you were going on a date with her. especially to somewhere so expensive and exclusive.

it was some sort of upscale bar with expensive alcohol and food. somewhere arlecchino claimed to frequent often when she needed alone time.

you almost broke out into laughter when she admitted she hired childe, her younger coworker, for the evening to watch her children.

"oh, i'm not concerned for my childrens' safety. if anything, he should be afraid for his own." was her reply, a small smirk on her lips that you nearly missed.

she lead you into the restaurant with confidence, turning heads, eliciting whispers as she kept her hand on the small of your back while the waiter brought you to your table.

"what do you think so far?" she asked, her wine glass already being filled, no need to speak her order.

"it's...definitely different than what i'm used to. but it's really nice. i like having an excuse to dress up a little." you smile at her and she raises her glass to her lips.

"i want to spoil you for the evening. for not only treating my children so well, but because you are an exceptional woman. i only hope my gestures come off as genuine as i intend." she sips her wine, setting it down to begin rambling to you about the menu.

but you're not quite listening, distracted by her hands, her lips, her eyes. how could someone be so perfect?

she's quite a bit older than you, probably much more experienced. does she truly feel the same way you do? and-

"sweetheart?" she breaks you from your thoughts and you stiffen up.

"i'm sorry- i'm listening!" you squeak, but she sees right through you.

although, she finds it rather cute. she's noticed before, obviously. your wandering eyes, the way you bite your lip when she picks up something heavy like it's nothing, or how your thighs press together when she takes a stern tone.

she simply wants to know the depths of your affection for her. after all, she has similar thoughts of you.

"which dish would you like then?" she asks pointedly, allowing you to hold the menu with shaky hands.

"ah...um..." the words blur together, not registering. "what do you recommend?"

she tilts her head, taking the menu back. "allow me to order for you then."

you like when she takes control. she knows what she wants, and she will have it. you wish it a quality you embodied more, though she fascinates you. it is almost natural to her.

dinner goes rather smoothly, and you get to taste test a few different wines, but not nearly enough to get you even remotely tipsy.

"i much prefer coherent company." her lips quirk up as she says this, and you laugh behind your hand.

she's funny, you admit. her dry humor is one of your favorite things about her.

it's a shame when dinner comes to an end, but you two mutually draw it out as long as you can. you share a dessert, and plenty of good conversation about yourselves. you learn things about her you never would've thought, and likewise for her.

the ride back to your place is just as pleasant, though you feel nervous inside. you want to make a move. you want to ask her to come inside. to stay...

but you couldn't possibly. that would be absurd... right?

regardless, she walks you in, ensuring you get into your place safely. she's a gentleman in how she holds your bags and all the doors at every stop.

the little bit of wine in your system has you feeling bold, stopping her in her tracks before she could put her shoes back on. "wait! why... don't you stay for a little? i could make us some tea. herbal! so you won't...uh... be awake all night."

she merely tilts her head, nodding either way. she listens to your rambling about the tea and the coffee mugs you have, her eyes wandering your walls when she sees familiar art.

"did the children draw these?" she interrupts, taking one off the wall.

it's a rather rudimentary stick-figure drawing, but she can tell who each one represents. this is one of lynette's drawings. she's drawn herself with pretty blue bows, along with her brothers, and, of course, their father.

and you.

there you are, standing on the other side as if you were the mother to complete their family portrait.

"oh- those? yeah, the kids drew them for me... i thought they were really cute, so i kept them." you smile and her heart flutters.

she skims her fingers over the papers, pausing when she sees one from freminet. he's drawn a flower field of green scribbles and rainbow dots, the children playing on a swingset while you and arlecchino watch.

with the words 'mom' and 'dad' written above your heads.

she can hear you nervously talking to fill the silence, and she turns to you. "they really do seem to enjoy having you around." she murmurs. "as do i."

you look up at her, feeling her lean in, gently holding your waist. "am i being too forward?" she asks, breath fanning over the side of your face as you shiver.

"not at all-" you breathe out, trembling as she lifts your chin gently. she can see your anticipation.

"you're not phased by our gap in experience?" she asks. "it's inevitable. i cannot change it, but i do not want you to feel forced."

"i actually like it. i really like it." you blurt, catching her off guard.

"oh?" her voice is low, sultry as she cups your jaw. "is this alright with you, then?"

"please-" and that's all she needs to connect your lips, kissing you so softly at first. her tongue gently prods for entrance, and she can instantly tell you truly are inexperienced.

she pulls away, gently swiping a thumb over your cheek. "is this your first time?"

"you could tell?" you groan, and she nearly melts.

"it is not shameful to wait. i only want you to be sure this is what you want." she explains, stroking your cheek as your eyes flutter shut.

"i want you. please? i want you to take it." you leave it open for interpretation, but she knows exactly what you're referring to.

"if you're certain, then i'd be honored, sweetheart." she says so gently you'd think she was someone else.

you bring her to your room, cringing at the mess. "i know it isn't what you're used to but mmph-!" you whimper when she kisses you, pulling you onto her lap on the bed.

she trails kisses down your neck, watching you tilt your head back instinctively. you pant, overwhelmed so quickly she almost feels guilty.

keyword: almost.

instead, it makes her twitch within the confines of her expensive suit slacks.

her hand tangles into the back of your hair, tugging you firmly so she can nip at your jaw. she takes it slow, easing you into things until you're practically begging her to go further.

your dress slides off slowly, a treat waiting when she sees the pretty matching lingerie set beneath. it's white and lacy, delicate, something she could easily tear right off, and it drives her mad.

"aren't you full of surprises? naughty ones at that." she tuts, squeezing your jaw as you gasp.

she unclips the bra, her gently squeezing your breasts as you moan for her.

she teases your nipples until they go pert, wrapping her tongue around them as you arch up into her.

you're being vulnerable with her; she knows this much. she holds you steady, ensuring you feel safe on her lap before pulling away with a soft 'pop.'

she unbuttons her shirt, tugging it off to match you. she watches your eyes go wide, eager yet embarrassed as she tosses her bra aside with the shirt.

"you're so...pretty." you gasp quietly, eyes wide.

"you can touch me, sweetheart." she pulls your hand to her chest, allowing you to explore. your fingers clumsily rub her nipples and she grunts, guiding them into place.

"does it feel good?" you ask her so hesitantly, and she kisses the top of your head.

"you're doing well." she watches your gaze slide down, eyeing the growing bulge in her pants. she dryly grunts, lifting your chin up. "something catch your eye?"

"i... i'm sorry- i didn't mean to stare-" your words are mumbled, your face hot as your mouth goes dry.

"you're curious. that's alright." she brushes a thumb over your lips, coaxing you to open up.

she slides her thumb over your tongue, gently easing it a little further until you gag, keeping you just like that. your eyes are so wide and pretty, glazed over with untapped lust.

she hums thoughtfully before withdrawing, using the thumb to brush over the front of your panties. you gasp, thighs snapping shut as she pushes them back apart.

she lightly smacks your thigh. "keep them open." she rubs gentle circles on your clothed clit, your body clearly unsure how to react. she can see it doesn't take much to bring you to the edge, and she lightens her touch, able to control her own desires with ease.

her hand comes back to your lips, sliding your wetness over your tongue while her free hand slides your panties to the side.

something you've missed before, but she's filed her nails down on this hand. just for you, though only she knew that.

she gently slides her fingers through your folds, hearing you whimper and squirm on her lap. she tucks your head under her chin while she eases a finger into you, feeling you squeeze so tight around just one digit.

she gives you time to adjust, feeling you clutch her wrist. you're such an angel, aren't you? holding so tightly to her, so cute, all while you fidget right above her confined cock, inevitably making her grow harder.

her second finger slides in slowly, with an intent to stretch you out enough to take her cock more comfortably. she curls them inside of you, hearing you whine loudly into her neck.

"ah- that feels-!" you squeal when she brushes against your g-spot. her finger pads rub into it, and you tremble, thighs clamping down on her hand.

"relax." she reminds you, pumping her fingers in and out, slick sounds filling the air. she stretches you out every so often, spreading her fingers slightly and hearing you whimper so sweetly.

your hand clumsily rests on her bulge and her fingers still as she inhales sharply.

"i... want to- try and make you feel good too..." you whisper, looking up at her.

and who is she to deny such a sweet girl?

she pops open the button, unzipping her pants and freeing her cock, allowing you to see her.

your eyes go comically wide, shocked by the size. "that's... i-"

she can feel your walls fluttering around her fingers and she nearly moans. "it's alright. don't be nervous." she practically reads your mind, soothing your concerns as her free hand unwraps itself from your body, collecting some of the messy slick from your thighs, sliding it over herself.

"you haven't done this before, i presume?" she's met with a shake of your head. she proceeds to guide your hand in wrapping around her cock. she hisses through her teeth. "archons-" she groans lowly, her fingers resuming their gentle in and out motions while she guides you to stroke her cock.

"tighter." she tells you, feeling your hand grip more firmly, her pre-cum oozing over your hand, spreading across her cock. "good girl-" she praises and you clench around her fingers once more.

she says nothing, but she knows exactly how her words affect you. such a sweet little thing you are, curled up on her lap, fingers stuffed inside of you while your hand wraps around her cock.

her hand covers yours still, dwarfing your hand and guiding you into her preferred rhythm. "that's it. you're doing well-" she tips her head back, hips grinding into your hand as she lets go.

she allows you to move your hand on your own, finger-fucking you faster. she knows you're losing focus, too overwhelmed by your own need to cum, though she doesn't mind too much. you're just so sweet with how your moans pick up in volume, your eyes closing as your hips chase her hand.

"go on." she tells you, her voice stern as you release around her digits like such a good girl for her.

she slides her fingers out, admiring the webbed slick coating them, cleaning them in her own mouth as you shyly hide in her chest.

she pulls you away, laying you on the bed. "wait! you didn't get to..."

she shakes her head, pushing her hair back. "hush." she simply says, spreading your thighs, pushing them up to your chest. it exposes you perfectly, allowing you to feel shy, yet unable to cover yourself as she studies your twitchy cunt.

arlecchino uses one hand to guide herself through your slick, sensitive folds, gathering the remnants of your orgasm. she is gentle when she slides into you for the first time, a thumb on your stiff, swollen clit to ease the stretch.

she watches your eyebrows furrow, nose crinkling as she stretches you out. "so big-" you whine, chest arching up against her own.

your moans are melodies to her, feeling you flutter around her was like heaven. she lifts you up to sit on her lap while she leans back, guiding you to slowly take more of her in.

"too much!" you whine, looking down.

"you haven't taken all of me yet." she hushes you, easing you down to swallow her all in your pussy until you're mewling incoherently.

"full-" your head falls back and she grabs your hips, her nails leaving sharp little indents as she guides you to shallowly fuck yourself on her cock.

"such a pretty little thing." she coos, slowly growing more harsh, grinding up into you.

and, oh, you sing for her the rougher she gets. you urge her to grow bolder, now using your body as a toy while you desperately try to match her tempo.

you're inexperienced, but oh, so eager to please, aren't you? what a good girl.

she grabs your ass, fucking you on her cock while you keep a vice grip, your tits bouncing with each thrust. "oh- archons!" you squeal.

arlecchino picks you up like you weigh nothing at all, settling you beneath her instead, fucking into you with boundless energy.

she knows the right spots to fuck, where and how to grind herself into a woman, she knows exactly when to speed up and slow down. yet it seems you don't even know your own body fully.

and the thought of helping you explore with her is enough to have her twitching inside of you.

your incessant mewling and moaning of her name is driving her mad for you. her hand wraps around your throat, earning her breathless gasps as she urges you to cum for her.

"be a good little pet and cum." she orders, slick sounds penetrating the air, the smell of sex coating you both. "cum for me."

she rubs your clit harshly, watching you shake as you do cum, tightening up around her cock, sending her eyes rolling back into her head.

the moment you loosen up, she pulls out, cumming onto your tummy, creating a filthy mess as she moans deeply for you.

"fuck..." she sighs, squeezing her cock to ease the rest of her cum onto your skin.

you pant, looking up at her. your eyes are blown wide, but you look exhausted as you lay limply beneath her.

and, well, you'll soon learn her cock may need time to recover, but her mouth and fingers certainly don't...

[wandagcre]

i got what you need | wanda maximoff 🔞

(College!Perv!Bestfriend Wanda Maximoff x Innocent!Fem Reader)

You're walking on eggshells with Wanda. She's unaffected and you're confused. It doesn't help that your encounter with your best friend unraveled new sensations for you, that it made your small break a huge challenge as you spend it with her.

WARNING: jealous!wanda, corruption kink, defiling childhood bed (r), dirty talk, degradation, almost fingering while in front of other people, perverted actions: using inanimate objects as plushie and hairbrush for sex, unconsented pictures, guilt-tripping, steve and tony as your parents bc why not | +18 men & minors dni. Words: 5.1k Notes: i'm back, kinda! i hope everyone enjoys this :3

[perv!wanda series] | [masterlist]

Your best friend, who lent a helping hand – pun intended – is coming home with you during your break. 

While you were beyond appreciative, you were nervous more than anything on how to act normal while being on the receiving end of Wanda’s affection without the flashes of the sensual touches and little adventures she took you on. It played like a crazy loop in your mind. Not only that, but it definitely shed a light on your feelings for the woman. You’re certain now that you like her more than a crush, more than as a friend.

Wanda revolved tenfold inside of your mind. Your little thoughts grew into a garden of filth, her consummate touch and moans playing like a broken loop – distinct and even agonizing.

You can’t help but worry still. Sure, Wanda has been increasingly affectionate – you didn’t even know that was possible. She barely let you go and her stares that lingered weren’t that slick even to your own observation – yet, you weren’t sure how Wanda feels about it. She never spoke about it, even after blowing the fuck out of your mind…

Little did you know, Wanda had a lovestruck fool of a grin on her way to her room, after accompanying you back to your own. You were a blushing mess, both hearts pounding as you walked through the carpeted halls, your best friend truly lived up to her words – expanding your horizon of taste when it comes to bed activities. 

It was a torture to still feel Wanda’s fingers exploring your depths, her coaxing tone clear as a day, all while she brought you to a high you’ve never had before.

Shortly after, you went back to your normal routine. Your smile was wide as ever, Wanda mirroring yours with her head against the doorframe, checking you out from top to bottom. The thump on your chest didn’t ebb when she met you for a study session.

There was enough space between the two of you, and it’s safe to say how it was unnerving and Wanda didn’t like it one bit. Why were you holding back?

The chair creaked as she moved it closer to you. 

“I can’t do this,” Wanda whispered vulnerably, slamming her book close which startled you. One moment she was busy flipping through the pages as you, who tried so hard to contain the thoughts, and suddenly you feel Wanda’s breathing by your side.

“What?” Was all you could say until you saw her head tilted and unmistakably leaned closer to you – feeling her soft lips pressed against your chapped ones, her scent washing over your senses. 

The action was so chaste that it made Wanda feel her stomach flutter. You held her waist tenderly and gave her an eskimo kiss. She smiled at the contact and the woman was wrapped up into a softness she loved about you. It slightly made Wanda feel ashamed of her dirty thoughts. 

All it took was for her to recuperate her mind and look down to your v-neck shirt that emphasized your breasts and made Wanda’s mouth water. You met her in a liplock, hers filled with an edge of roughness and wanting that churned up your resolve. She’s fast and devouring your pretty lips, that it wasn’t long before you caved in to Wanda’s frantic touches and she adored how you tried to keep up with her. Your best friend made sure you remember the traces she left you, reigniting the rush from the other night.

It honestly brought you to a point of being overwhelmed. The questions rattled you and Wanda can feel the gears turning in your head. Nothing else happened but her words struck you. 

“Don’t you dare leave in the morning.” She muttered while caressing your nape, her arm snaked around your mid waist as if you were to disappear in thin air. And so you didn’t. 

You woke up embarrassingly wet again. Was it the flashbacks? Had Wanda spilled her drink in the bed again? Or perhaps it was the so-called discharge you’ve learnt from her? You immediately fled from the scene, timidly asking Wanda for set of new clothes you could borrow.

Each day progressed badly. You remained baffled at the events even more that it led you to slowly slip away from your closeness and routine. It aggravated the woman, you can see her neat eyebrows crease every time you made up a poor excuse. Though, you were thinking that it’s Wanda; beautiful and you didn’t have an inch of worth to her standards. Whatever that relapse was, it bothered you. 

Meanwhile, Wanda was motivated to get you both out of this funk.

Though, you rushed out of your dorm that made Wanda’s beautiful emeralds become puzzled as soon as you saw her in front of your doorstep, holding a paper bag full of love – her words, not yours. You can’t help but internally coo at her effort, which made you act before you even think of it. All you did was leave a kiss on her soft cheek and left her with nothing but a cryptic reply of meeting a friend.

It was a whiplash to the two of you. You weren’t this impulsive and intimate; while a part of Wanda is appreciative, reddened with your initiative, she was unaware what was the pushing force. Especially when you have been practising unspoken boundaries for the past few days – now she has to overthink who was this friend you speak of.

Were you hanging out with someone new? The girl from the library whom you shared a table with and constantly smiled at you, maybe the one who was too touchy and friendly with you at your student org? Her mind ran for miles. Was that what you craved? A new thing that could offer much more? Wanda huffed in disagreement. She doubts that someone else can be better than her.

There Wanda was, struck, a little humiliated and crestfallen. It felt like you were teasing her. The frustration builds up her chest as the woman couldn’t do her usual moves to you as workload took both of your time. 

As much as Wanda possessed and adored her collection of erotic polaroids that contained you, nothing could beat the real thing now. Not when she successfully coaxed you to open Pandora's box – the memory of you riding her pillow to the brink of wetness and first orgasm, how she luckily had another time with you, still anew to her perverted mind.

She’ll make sure to make you pay back for this.

Around noon, you met up with your best friend. You guys were still following through your original plans for the break – your filthy rendezvous be damned. Zipped up in her black sweater, her denim jeans and chunky shoes. To your surprise, the emerald eyes were already looking at you. Your lips were caught in a twist, looking away in embarrassment.

“You’re barely covered up.” She nods over you, her tone amused.

It caught your attention. “Why? Doesn’t it look good?” You’re clueless, doing a small twirl for your best friend and self-consciousness has begun to eat you. 

“Great. Wonderful, actually.” Wanda’s rasp stoked something in you, making your eyes quickly flit in her direction only to be met with dilated pupils that raked over your figure – one you were acquainted with. “But look at the skies, it could rain.” 

You looked up at the gray clouds and shrugged. “We have your car. We’ll be fine, Wands.” 

She concedes and it falls silent. Being in her car was the closest you two have been besides the previous incident. Though it was awkward for you, Wanda looked just fine. You stole glances of her side profile every now and then as she inspected her stuff in the visor and glove compartment. A small smile escapes your lips as you see the little trinkets you gifted her proudly displayed on her dashboard and still thoughtful as ever, Wanda adjusts the car’s AC towards you. She smelled wonderful, the awareness of your Wanda-deprivation kicking in.

“Where were you?” Wanda finally asks. Your eyes narrowed in confusion. “When you, uh, kissed me on the cheek. You seemed to be in a rush.” She clarifies with an adorable blush on her face. That was new.

Your eyes fluttered rapidly, not meeting the woman’s inquisitive green eyes – a telltale sign of you hiding something.

“Um, just ran some errands.” You sheepishly reply.

Wanda merely hummed in disbelief. She leaned to your side, fastening the seatbelt for you. 

“Uh-huh. And I’m not buying that, you know?” Her honeyed voice washed over your neck so lightly, making you suck your breath in. It doesn’t help that you feel Wanda’s hand clasped and brushing over your front. “You suck at lying. What’s bothering you?”

“Let’s… let’s not talk about it right now, Wands.” How odd, Wanda thought. Still, her mission of riling you up was on the move and this motivated her even better.

Wanda bit the inside of her cheek in disappointment. You’re lucky that she loves challenges and she’s nothing but persuasive. 

She sighed, letting go of the topic for now. “Okay.” Wanda will crack it out of you.

The pitter patter of your heart only grew with Wanda's feather-like touch, the woman softly hummed along the songs in your playlist. You're graced with her perfect side profile that your eyes cannot help but flicker back and forth, from her eyelashes up to her plump red lips and the slight movement of her wetting them with her tongue. It didn't take long for your mind to get sucked in flashbacks; how they felt against yours and the expanse of your skin...

“Are you alright? You look a little flushed, dorogaya.” Wanda murmured. 

Your breath hitched and both your hands were gripping onto the seatbelt across your chest, the need to lessen your lightheadedness constantly increasing. 

“We’re visiting your home to relax, (y/n/n). Maybe I can help you to de-stress again.” The woman feigned innocence in her words. You didn’t pick it up but she knew your mind was running a mile, recalling how good her definition of ‘de-stressing’ was.

How your best friend took you carnally on her bed… twice. At least the ones you remembered.

“Like a massage?” Your voice cracked, looking unsure over Wanda.

A devious smile is painted on her face. 

“Sure, something like that.” 

After a few hours, the two of you pull up into your hometown’s driveway. There’s a newfound feeling that stirred between you two after that life changing event – albeit Wanda coming over wasn’t exactly foreign, it felt as though your relationship progressed further.

Like she wasn’t here as your best friend, but something more. That had you nervous like a hopeless teenager again, barely normal around the woman you’re crushing into.

She was greeted with shoes being left on the doorstep and saw the picture frame that she cannot help but coo at each time she sees it. You look away which only tugged at Wanda's heartstrings. She pulled you close for a side hug. You were so fucking adorable. Both of you arrived at your hometown near dinner time and the more Wanda sees the parts of your house, her excitement grows more to finally see the room you grew up in.

Amongst other things…

Your best friend naturally takes the seat beside you. It was getting harder for her to restrain herself as she saw your outfit that went along with the breeze of the night. You changed into comfortable shorts and an oversized shirt, a contrast with your mostly covered self at the dorms.

Wanda’s eyes kept fleeting over the bits of your exposed skin and the whiff of your scent and lotion that got into her senses.

She absolutely cannot control herself.

“How's university life treating you, honey?” Steve asked, turning the rotating table on your way. It brought Wanda back to reality as seeing you shift uncomfortably in your seat, for a split second you halted on taking a spoonful of the meal. You were not willing to unpack the stress that you momentarily left miles away.

Wanda senses it and bites onto the opportunity of lending a supportive touch on your arm – a comfort to you and for herself. She orbits around you at this point and one thing Wanda knows well is the feeling of handling it on your own. 

“She’s wonderful. This one is always trying her best at all times, sometimes I find her sleeping at her study table. I have to find ways for her to relax on multiple occasions.” Wanda smoothly took over with a charming smile.

Suggestiveness may not have been your strongest suit, but you learned enough from your best friend by this time enough to be nervous to the next words she was about to drop. You remember the ungodly activities that only your dorm can ever know. How uninhibited you were under Wanda’s voice and touch… the floating and inexplicable sense of relief that it gave you.

You feel your palms sweat. “No need to tell them all that, Wands,” You quickly chewed on your food, feeling slightly bothered.

“All I’m saying is I make sure (y/n) over here is in good hands. She keeps me grounded and I intend to return that gesture as well.” The grin on Wanda’s face was seeping through her tone. “She’s… quite a hard worker. Always deep once she’s locked in the learning zone.” 

While you knew what she meant – you’re thankful that your fathers only took her words with a sweet smile as they listened intently with hands clasped at the table, taking Wanda's words as a reassuring reminder that you weren’t alone.

Conversations occurred again and it somehow led to a fit of chuckling and sounds of agreement at the dining table with more stories of your other dad, Tony's raging party days – refined into an appropriate storytelling, of course with your Pa Steve around – telling you the do’s and don'ts, and Wanda’s caresses had progressed into tiptoeing across your arm, then placing her hand atop of yours. She takes it as a win when she sees your slumped shoulders become less tense.

Among all things, you haven’t noticed Wanda's eyes that raked over your legs right now. She tunes out a little. As much as she loved being in this opportunity with you, your bestfriend still craved you and you were there, unknowing. Hers for the taking. She couldn’t help but ogle at your thighs through your short jeans, exposed before her own eyes, and clearly recalling how addictive they were to caress and mark.

Hands slithered on your left thigh, a ghosting touch that was beginning to rile you up. Wanda was on a mission to grip you softly by your thigh. It made you visibly hitch your breath, making Wanda chuckle. It made you flustered, hands tense around the utensil and so was the muscle of your thighs. Your best friend notches it up, feeling her fingertips stroke on your plush inner thigh. She feels so warm over your cold skin. Dangerously near your core. You’re familiar with it now – sensing the overflowing need and desire in Wanda’s grasp over you.

You gave her a pointed look. What was the point of this? You didn’t want your parents to catch you. It was beyond exhilarating. “Wanda, what’re you up to?” You utter close, only audible for her to catch.

“Nothing.” She shrugged as though her actions weren't anything scandalous.

By gods, Wanda cannot wait to have her hands and lips all over you again.

After the weird encounter you had at the dining table with Wanda, you both changed into indoor clothes. Nothing is ever that too normal with Wanda, you suppose. God, the teasing! It was torture. You were close to combusting into a mortifying pool of distress and lust – perhaps it was Wanda’s plotting all along because of the unwipeable grin etched on her gorgeous face.

She playfully (or so you hoped) suggested taking a shower together but you became a mess at the thought alone, you were stammering and barely making eye contact in front of your best friend. Wanda seemed to take mercy and left you to gather yourself, but not without a kiss on your cheek and a light slap on your ass.

Almost like she was mocking you for the same thing you did a few days ago.

She was cuddled up to your side, mindlessly tracing your arm and the soft skin of your slightly exposed stomach. The bed was better than the one from your dorms, offering a decent space for the two of you. Even enough for some of your plushies to lay in. It was driving her to the wall, looking at your fitted shirt that emphasized the swell of your breasts nicely, and the sweatpants combo that you wore for tonight. To Wanda’s mind, it was like you paraded yourself like fresh meat for her, ready to be taken once again. Your free hand stroked her brunette hair as the movie played on the television in front of you, occasionally pulling back when your phone rang. 

You hear Wanda huff ever so lightly beside you at the divided attention she was getting. 

“Just some project stuff,” You lean your phone to Wanda’s eyesight for affirmation. The group chat came into her view.

Her eyebrows creased once again. “At this hour?” 

“Yep. Probably overthinking. More than me, which is surprising.” You humorously said to ease her protective nature and thankfully, Wanda snorted at. 

“Hmm. Don’t respond now,” Wanda whispered as she burrowed her face on the crook of your neck. “You smell so good.”

You smiled nervously. Her breath tickled against your skin. “You smell just the same. Well, you used the same products as I did…”

You were talking nonsense out of nervousness, she could tell. Thankfully, Wanda didn’t call you out. You typed away, itching to wrap the conversation and enjoy your time with your best friend. Wanda can see it from the way you responded, she was so proud that it filled her with delight. She’s happy to know that a time with her was a bigger priority.

Underneath the light interaction, there was the desire that continues to brew in the pit of Wanda’s gut. She couldn’t do anything for now. As much as she wanted to stay up, the driving tired her out. So Wanda rested her eyes for a couple of minutes, hugging your bunny plushie.

Until there was a sigh of content that stirred Wanda to wake into consciousness.

Her brain didn’t register it for a few seconds. It continued, so pitiful and mewl-like. That can’t be right. She paled in realization. When Wanda woke up, she caught your hand in the cookie jar – the arched neck and eyes screwed shut, biting your bottom lip to suppress the moans. God, Wanda raked over your exposed legs and halfway pulled down underwear, as though you were so desperate — in a rush to touch yourself.

“And you were going to invite me, when?” You turn your head too quickly at the sound, you pull your fingers back like you were burned, eyes flutter just as rapidly.

“I didn’t think–”

“Clearly you weren’t. Touching yourself like a whore that wasn’t treated properly,” She snarked back. “You could’ve asked me this – days ago – and I would gladly give it to you, dorogaya. Now tell me, what were you thinking about?”

She scooted closer to you, on her knees and Wanda’s brunette hair still messy yet beautifully cascading. Her green eyes were filled with nothing but mirth. 

“I didn’t know what to think about… it was better when you, um, led me a few weeks ago. I mindlessly just went for it,” Your center was wet, Wanda notices, but not as it was when she was deep in you a few nights ago when you were fast asleep.

“See how much you need me? That’s why you should’ve told me. Instead of roping me into a limbo with you.” Wanda settled between your legs. You audibly groaned when she took off your underwear, your legs feeling less restricted. “Maybe you need to be taught another lesson.”

She sees you visibly gulp. Your throat felt dry all of the sudden. “W-whatever you think is best for me, Wands.”

“Best for you, huh.”

She called you a whore but it didn’t phase you that much. You suppose it was the truth, no decent woman would touch themselves with their best friend innocently laying beside them. Wanda loved seeing your doe eyes. So compliant, the fear of being punished and talked down while simmering in careless yet a raunchy act reeled her in the most filthy thoughts once again. 

“Did you get your fingers nice and wet?” 

“Y-yes,”

“You sucked them good enough for me?” The thirst was unmistakable in Wanda’s saccharine tone that made you drip every second in your underwear.

She saw your inner thigh muscles become tense, as though you were grounding your mind, preparing for what was about to come. You hesitantly nod – embarrassed that even in suppression of your feelings, Wanda remained as the star of your lust and pent up desires. Maybe honesty will serve you well.

She pinned your wrists above your head. It embarrassingly made your back arch at the slight recoil due to the firmness of her grip and action. You were cruel for igniting a spark of hope, the icing of it all she got was a random kiss on the cheek. Wanda had enough of playing nice. 

“We’ll start with the game of truths before you get rewarded. Is that fair enough for a whore like you?” The term rattled you – oddly in a good way. It sent you on a submissive headspace, being degraded by a different version of Wanda was satisfying. It made your stomach do flips and your cunt pounding. “Tell me who was the friend you met up with.”

It caught you off-guard. You feel bad at the realization that Wanda was racking her mind over it.

The friend in question was no other than her own brother. You wanted clarity on Wanda’s headspace, how to woo her, how the woman was like when it comes to… relationships. Naturally, her twin Pietro came to your mind. You spoke of your conundrum but nothing more than that – you can never share whatever happened in the dorms, of course.

“It was Pietro,” Your voice cracked at the confession. “I had some questions to ask about you.”

Wanda's fingertips skimmed over your ribs, trailing lower. Your breasts were practically begging to be groped – the way it flopped perfectly as you laid down. Did you say it was about her? She muses what it could've been about. She doesn't like being excluded from it.

"You're already with the better Maximoff twin. You should have asked me instead, whatever it was. I thought I was your favorite," Your bestfriend said, hurt. She caressed your knee and the action sent tingles right up your southern part. You shivered in pleasure. “My brother always gets everything. He can’t have your attention as well.”

You didn’t Wanda to misconstrue things from here on. "I know and you are, Wands! But it was about relationships, I wanted to know if uh, you were in one from the past and what you think of them,”

It seemed to do the trick, her aura calming down at your words.

“Let me get this straight, you wanted to know if I fucked someone before and if I’m a girlfriend material, so to say?” It was shameful when she said it out loud. Like you were frenzied to know Wanda outside of her comfort, making you avoid eye contact. "Oh dorogaya. If you wanted me, you already had me from the beginning. I'm definitely your girlfriend now." 

Wanda has a devious smirk. It warmed her heart you consulted her twin and she basically had your mind hostaged. The smell of your arousal though was affecting her slowly.

She continued, “You left me high and dry. Do you think that’s fair for me, dorogaya?” Wanda raised an eyebrow, her tone condescending.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s always like that. You know I would never do you wrong, yet still…”

“I-I’m sorry,” You repeat hopelessly. “How can I make it better, Wands?”

She gave your mound a slap. Hard enough to startle you, yet your hips chased and bucked for more of Wanda’s touch.

“We can start with a few things. I wanna know if you used something else other than your fingers when you first explored masturbation.” Wanda wanted you to sit uncomfortably in your hole of shame it seems. 

Her dexterous fingers bristled with intent, sensual and motivated to turn your gears. Wanda’s finger pads skimmed on your folds, just above the surface. Albeit each stroke did not come with force, it didn't stop you from slowly spreading your legs apart further and further.

"You just can't help it, hm?" Wanda’s eyes darkened when a sheer wetness covered her fingers. “Maybe it was mister bunny over here. Have you thought about grinding your pretty cunt against this soft plushie?” You breathed rapidly at the implication, heat spreading at the tips of your ears.

Wanda held the toy by its neck, the face of the innocent bunny being rubbed at your bare skin. It descended from your mound to your cunt. When you attempted to shut your legs at the teasing, she clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, unamused as your erotic mewls of desperation bounced off the four walls. 

You felt the fur of the material, getting tainted by the sinful act. Wanda stretched your folds as she dug the toy deep as it could get, rubbing it back and forth. You closed your eyes as you reel at the foreign sensation, it tickled you – almost near as grinding over Wanda’s pillow – remembering her words; gyrating your hips, letting your weight fall completely. To simply feel. So near your clit. But it was futile with its barely cuddle size.

“No, I’ve never,” You breathlessly reply, on edge. 

A smirk fell onto her lips. “But you enjoyed that, didn’t you? I don’t think you used it either. It’s too small for someone as needy as you. You’re a big girl who wants a big reward,”

The striking difference of Wanda was moving you in ways you never thought it could. She was unnerving and demeaning, yet it was palpable with pleasure. You look over your side – the nightstand. Wanda follows your line of sight and it clicks to her what the object was.

“You used this?” Wanda humorously says, her green eyes dilating further. She held your hair brush, right at its bulbous tip and it made you feel so ashamed. “So adorable. I can definitely see you fucking yourself with this. Some good old penetration. Now, open your legs wide for me.”

You hesitantly spread them. Wanda clamped her teeth over her bottom lip, looking at the hot mess that you were. She went in slow with your pretty, wet hole intruding with the bulbous tip that you haven’t felt for a while. You felt the impatience in Wanda’s motions, pushing and pulling until all of its length was inside of you. Granted, it wasn’t much, but it stimulated you nonetheless.

Oh, it drove Wanda crazy.

“Maybe next time I’ll fuck you with a better toy,” She pushed the tip and you feel her tongue flattened, licking across your neck. A better toy? You wondered for a brief second. “A double-ended strap. A slut like you would enjoy a pleasurable length and girth, I can tell. Now say it how bad you want it,”

“I’m–I need you so bad, Wands!” You whined with bucked hips. "O-oh! Please, please. Wands..." You grasped on her nape and peered over the unrecognizable emerald eyes. 

Her pupils blown, cheeks visibly flushed, and holding you tighter by your love handles. You bucked your pelvis by instinct and it made Wanda sport a knowing smirk before latching her lips onto yours; a kiss fueled with rough need. Her thrusts with the hair brush’s tip didn’t falter. She thrived on this sight of yours.

Wanda shushed you. She roughly pulls you by the cheek, only to give you the softest kiss to the expanse of your tense jaw – slowly easing to her ministrations. Yet again, you have fallen under her spell. Was it the dark or lightness you see; that, you can’t quite figure it out. But you know that you craved Wanda just as much.

She pulled the bulbous tip away, rubbing the length across your slit. It progressed harder right on your throbbing clit.

"Please, please.” She mocks you. You squirm and feel the soft sheets rustle against you. “Be patient, dorogaya. This isn't meant to be fun for you. Can you imagine how torturous it has been for me for a month? I'm simply walking you through it, baby."

Your spine arched until your front chest met Wanda's clothed own and it naturally gravitated in return, making your bodies pressed in heat. She feels the tip of your nipples, all pebbled that she can’t resist but suck on them, giving them ample attention.

Even when Wanda slowed down her ministrations, it didn’t help with the pressure she applied over your clit. You feel her in circles and all determined, your legs spasming and arms slung around her, wanting to hold something to gravitate you through this fucking.

Wanda’s grip over you was strongly reminiscent of a leash; you’re whining like a hopeless puppy. Cheeks heating up as you squirm.

What else is there to detest? Wanda is here touching you in all the right ways. You beam at her all eager, like the woman has shown you colors you never thought ever existed. You felt the familiar release that sent your body and mind into cloud nine with Wanda slumped over your body. She kissed your forehead and during the moment of you temporarily passing out, you saw a flash of something flicker for a second.

She took pictures of your fucked out face.

You felt something that was poking your lips apart. You opened them mindlessly, soon it registered that Wanda had inserted the hair brush’s tip – she wanted you to clean it off. And so you did, putting up a best attempt to suck them off dry. You tasted sweet and salty. It felt raunchy and dirty… how her mind worked when it came to lust, you were certain that Wanda was a succubus sent to devour you and your well of innocence.

Wanda ravished you thoroughly. She took off her own clothing, deciding that she’ll have her time of pleasure later on. Who knows, maybe she’ll introduce you to tribbing. Imagining your determination of wanting to please her, grinding harder against her cunt – Oh how it excited Wanda now that you were hers.

“Next time you want something, just tell me.”

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

[milla-frenchy]

6 PM

4k6 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist Summary: Joel comes home earlier than expected, and catches you during a time alone Warnings: 18+ mdni. Established relationship, sex toy, mention of oral (f/m) and consensual somnophilia, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, mutual masturbation, fingering, dom!Joel, soft!Joel, intimate sex, feelings, piv, creampie, rimming, light spanking and biting, spit as lube, anal play, anal No age specified

a/n: same couple: 5 days collection, but fics can be read alone These two are becoming my favorites, chapter after chapter. It's kinda funny, when I think that I wanted to throw the first fic in the garbage after writing it, but Kate convinced me not to (I owe you 💕💕). 

Anyway, I'm adding some depths to what was mostly pwp, originally. Well, this part is still full smut, but some details add to their backstory. I still intend to write a chapter about how they met and became that couple, but emotionally it's not that easy (I'm in love with them). Enough talking, I hope you'll enjoy ❤️

Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing and for stopping me from throwing my fics in the trash 😌💕💕 and @saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

The slight “buzz” is the only sound coming out of the bedroom. 

That and the moans that sometimes escape your lips, as your second hand tightens around your breast. You play with the vibrator and your sensations, brushing it against your clit, then moving it away a little.

You think about Joel. 

His hands, his lips. The way they have tasted every inch of your skin, so many times. The way he knows your body and how it responds to him. Not a single spot hasn’t been touched, kissed, licked by him. 

You press the sex toy a little more against you, trying to feel the sensations you get when you're with Joel, even though you know it's impossible.

You think about his cock, when your saliva drools from his shaft to his balls, while you focus on the moans he can't hold back anymore.

“Shit, baby, yeah, just like that, keep goin’ a bit. Then I’ll fuck you, ok? Just wanna feel your lips on me a little more.”

The way you nod, not letting go of his cock, giving him what he wants and trying your best to drive him crazy. Sometimes he can't hold back and comes in your mouth with a groan. And when he opens his eyes and sees your little proud smirk of having him break, he growls "c’mere." Then grips your hips to make you straddle his face, and eats you as the sweetest revenge until you come on his tongue too.

You think about how your two bodies are made for each other, like two jigsaw puzzle pieces, whether it’s day or night, whether you’re awake or not.

He should be home in a few hours, but the heat in your crotch hasn’t left you all day, since this morning. When barely awake, he settled between your thighs, your pussy still dripping from the night, burying himself gently in your snoozy body, murmuring “good morning, baby” in your ear with his sleepy voice. His hair disheveled, his eyes barely open. He fucked you slowly, until you clenched on his shaft. He growled in your neck before adding more cum to your core, your fingers tightened on his biceps to keep him against you, while his hands were cupping your cheeks.

You think about all that, while using the vibrator against you. How you took a shower when you got home, put on some comfortable clothes, then went to the bedroom. You’ve been planning to read your book but the sheets still smelt of this morning and one of Joel’s shirts was lying on his pillow. You undressed, keeping only your panties on, and put on his t-shirt. You didn't even open the book. Your hand slid between your thighs and played with your pussy through the garment. 

But it wasn’t enough. Your panties joined the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed, then your finger slipped easily between your dripping folds and over your clit. You came quickly, mechanically, but you needed more.

So you grabbed the vibrator from your nightstand drawer and placed it lightly against you after turning it on, not to overstimulate your swollen bud. 

And now you’re moaning, whispering “Joel,” squeezing a breast over his shirt, before sliding your hand under the fabric and grabbing it roughly. Trying to replicate Joel’s gesture, even though his hand is way bigger than yours, stronger than yours. “Joel,” you whisper again, as you bring the toy closer to your most sensitive place.

“ ‘m here, sweetheart.”

You get startled and snap your eyes open that land directly on Joel, who’s leaning against the doorframe, his lustful gaze roaming your body. You turn off the sex toy and it gets quiet in the room.

“Keep going baby, don’t stop.”

“I… I can’t. I can’t if you’re watching me.”

“‘Course you can. Lemme see how beautiful you are when you make yourself come, right in front of me.” His voice is soft but firm. His gaze is intense, as always. His broad body, leaning against the bedroom door, is the perfect representation of a quiet strength and self confidence. He has all of it in him naturally, it exudes from him. You don’t need more to feel your limbs weaken and your pussy drooling onto the sheets.

Your hand relaxes a little on the vibrator and you release some pressure in your taut legs while you tell yourself that yeah, you can do it. That you’re safe with Joel, that he just wants you to feel good.

“Close your eyes, baby. And turn it on,” he adds, nodding at you, knowing that you need it to relax totally.

So you do as he says, without pressing it against you at first.

“Show me, baby. Spread your legs for me, and show me how you do it.”

Encouraged by his praise, you spread wider, feeling his heavy gaze on you and you press the vibrator against your clit. You moan, even though you are desperate for more, hungry to feel more. To feel him, his lips around your clit sucking on it, or his tongue pointing perfectly at it.

“Yeah, just like that, that’s my good girl. Making me so fuckin’ hard.”

“Fuck, Joel,” you pant. You feel warmth rising in your core, stronger, hotter than when you were alone in the bedroom. 

You hear rustling of clothes, as he takes out his hard cock. You hear him spit, then his wrist slowly fucks his shaft. You hear him growl, while he strokes himself. And it’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever experienced. Touching yourself in front of a man, and it turns him on so much that he needs to touch himself too, and it makes him growl.

You come again, harder, as you listen to him, and you barely finish shaking when the bed lowers under his weight, and he takes the vibrator from your hand. He turns it off and throws it on the mattress.

“You’re such a bad baby girl. Couldn’t wait for me, huh?” he says above you, leaning down to smell your hair, then running his nose over your cheek and neck. He spreads your thighs with his hand, firmly, claiming his territory like a hungry beast in front of its prey. Eager to devour it. Prey who lets him reach what he wants, how he wants, to finally being touched by the body she has been thinking about all day.

He lays down between your thighs, and his hand cups your mound in a possessive way, as if he was taking back what was his, making you whine with desire. He doesn’t wait more, and two of his fingers dive into your core. You hold your breath, eyes fixed on him, as his dark gaze is on your lips, while his digits find their favorite place in the world. Your hands are lost in his curls, his neck, you already don’t really know where you’re touching him, just being needy to feel him.

“So fuckin’ wet. Just for me,” he groans, and you love that he doesn’t ask if it’s for him. He knows it is.

He pulls up the shirt to your neck to grab a breast. “Fucking yourself in my shirt? It's fucking hot, baby,” he breathes needily, sucking one of your nipples.

“Fuck me, Joel,” you whimper. “Please. I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

“Yeah? All day you wanted me to fuck you? This poor little pussy needed my cock?” he asks, as he nestles his fat, throbbing tip at your entrance, to answer your need. He waits for a few seconds though, time for your walls to get used to his thickness, a sensation that nothing else will ever be able to match. Your mind realizes that the room is no longer filled with the sound of his thick fingers pushing into your wet pussy, as if it mattered.

“I’ve been thinking about it all day, too,” he says, as he thrusts in slowly, making you moan against his ear, bodies rushing to finally get their fix. “Thought about ruining you, again and again,” he adds, nibbling your earlobe. 

“Thought about your cunt wrapped around my cock,” his voice is needy, showing his eagerness to take more of you, his pants scraping the inside of your thighs indecently open for him.

“Thought about how perfect she’s always for me. So tight.” The growl comes from the depths of his chest, his shaft sliding into you. 

“How you're mine.” He slips his arms under your shoulders, holding you against him. “You’re always so perfect for me, sweetheart.” He stops for two seconds, buried inside you. Just to hear your breathing stop, too. 

You let out a moan. Unable to do anything else, to formulate words that would be totally incoherent anyway. You let him use your body as he pleases, because he acts exactly how you need him to.

“See what you’re doin’ to me, baby? I left the meeting. We were supposed to go to a restaurant with a client but I let Tommy take care of it.”

“Y… yeah?”

“Yeah. Said to Tommy I needed to go home.

He told me to have a good night, but he knew what I was about to do to you.”

“What… what were you about to do to me?”

“Wreck you. Make you clench on my cock.” He thrusts faster now, but still just as deep. His breathing is panting.

“Oh god… fuck, that’s good, Joel. Don’t stop,” you add, even if you know he won’t.

“Make you milk it, to the last drop. Fuck… You’re squeezin’ me so goddamn hard. You’re gonna milk my cock, baby? Gonna be a good girl for me?”

“Yes… yes, I’m your good girl, Joel.”

“Yes you are. I want you to come, baby. Come on my fuckin’ dick. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah… Keep fucking me, Joel. Just like that. Want you to fill me up, as soon as I come.”

“Fuckin’ dirty girl. So perfect. Come on, sweetheart, soak me.”

“Shit, oh shit, Joel. I’m…” you whine, just before your climax overwhelms you. It’s like your soul is leaving your body. You think that no man has ever managed to make you come like this, just with his shaft in you. His cock tirelessly brushing the right spot, in the right way. His tip stopping just where it has to, creating a mixture of pleasure and light pain, animal.

“Yeah baby. Just like that, fuck…” His grunts turn into moans. You love hearing him become so vulnerable, just for you. Your feet are crossed over his back as your pelvis keeps jerking him off, feeling him twitch inside you, over and over, until his body relaxes, balls empty and your cunt full. 

He kisses you, and his mouth travels a path from your lips to one of your nipples which he takes in his mouth, sucking on it like a man who can't get enough. You squeeze his cock again at the sensation. He smiles, lightly nibbling your nipple.

“I’m not done with you for tonight,” he says.

“I hope so. I need...”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” he asks, sucking on your nipple.

“Need more. I need to feel you everywhere,” you answer, feeling the heat reaching your cheeks.

He straightens up towards you, still buried in your warmth. You vaguely feel him twitch in your core.

“Greedy, filthy girl. Always damn perfect.” He pulls out and you feel his cum dripping from your pussy. He removes his shirt from you and manhandles you so that you’re kneeling, and he presses the back of your neck to let your cheek rest on the pillow. He made it all so quickly that you barely realized you were now naked, ass in the air. 

And now he’s taking his time, savoring this vision of you. His hand runs down your back, and makes you shiver, until his fingers brush your ass.

“Everywhere, huh?”

“Yes,” you almost beg. He stands up from the bed and removes his clothes then comes back behind you. He spreads your ass cheeks and looks down, from your glistening pussy to your tight ring, totally offered to him. He spits on your ass and brushes your ring with his thumb, making you whine again.

“Gonna make me fuckin’ hard again, with that ass, Jesus... Tell me what you want, baby. I need to hear it.”

“Want you to lick it,” you stammer. “Please.”

“Mmm... And then?”

“Want you to fuck it.”

“Christ… Yeah, I’m gonna give you what you want. But I’m gonna fuck you with my cum, first. Want it where it belongs,” he says, pushing his load back in your core, then pumping your pussy with two fingers. He keeps fucking you with his digits as his tongue comes to lap at your ring. You're already moaning, not only because of his tongue and fingers, but thinking that some of his cum has leaked all the way out here, and that he's tasting himself as much as he's tasting you.

“That ass needs to be fucked, is that right?” he asks, nibbling the tender flesh of it, before adding “that tiny, little asshole wants to be spread by my fat cock?” and biting a little harder.

“Shit…. fuck Joel!”

His hand falls on your ass cheek, right where his teeth sink in lightly, making you whimper.

“Answer me, sweetheart.”

“Fuck! yes, yes! Need it.”

“Dirty girl,” he says as he leans down again. Licking your ring, pressing his tongue against your entrance in an attempt to open it. Over and over. Until it softens.

“I don't know if I prefer to eat your pussy or your ass. Both are so fuckin’ good,” he says, before diving in again, pressing his nose against the crack of your ass.

“Oh fuck, your damn mouth,” you whine, ass in the air, pushing it as far as possible towards his mouth.

“You love it,” he chuckles, making you hum in the pillow. You do love it. His dirty talk made you see stars as soon as he started to use it on you. Still sometimes makes you choke on his cock.

“You’re gonna take it? You’re gonna take my cock like a good girl?”

“Yes,” you whine pathetically.

He grabs his cock tightly in his hand, jerks it a couple of times. It twitches under his fingers, and points towards your entrance, as if it has a will of its own.

“Fuck baby… I'm so hard.”

He spreads your ass cheeks again, unable to resist the sight of your two holes. He feels, hears himself moan. Afraid to cum already, just with this view he has of you.

“Please, Joel…”

“Yeah, just… gimme a minute baby, please? I’m gonna fucking shoot my load in the sheets if you keep begging me like that.”

He smiles when he hears you groan. “My needy, precious girl,” he replies almost automatically, while his mind goes blank. He doesn’t think, lets his instincts guide him, and pushes his cock into your dripping pussy, his thumb breaking through the barrier of your ring.

“Oh fuck,” you whine. 

“Yeah? You love that?” he asks, as his hips thrust into you. His other hand is hooked around your hip, using it as leverage. His eyes are glued to your ass and his thumb buried up to the knuckle.

“I still wonder how your ass manages to take my cock,” he asks, trying to regain his wits and his breathing, even though he’s not sure if talking about your ass is the right way to do it. He slows his pace and removes his thumb just long enough to spit there and watch his saliva flow down it.

“Fuck,” he growls, as he licks two of his fingers and then pushes one into your ass, the other just pressing against your entrance. He keeps fucking your pussy and works your ring. Your fist is clenched in the pillow, knowing that in a few minutes he will be thrusting into your other hole. You wait for it and it obsesses you. How you can take him is a mystery to you too. Since the first time he fucked you like this, when you asked him to, you didn’t understand what was happening. This need to feel him everywhere, the way your body wanted to be his. You assumed that was why it was possible, almost so easily. The pain not so strong, and the desire so heady in your mind that you were able to welcome him physically.

His two fingers slide in now, and he spits steadily at your opening, while he slowly keeps fucking your cunt. So slowly. Focused on your ass. Marveling at the sight of you tightening around his fingers, as your pelvis strains as hard as it can towards his digits. His mind is definitely lost now- in his desire, and in your croons.

“Joel…” his name falls from your lips, half moaned, half whispered. He doesn’t answer, keeps the same pace. You manage to smile, thinking he’s already on ground 0 looking at your ass, then repeat a little louder, “Joel.”

“Yeah?” he answers finally, slowing down and removing his fingers, caressing the curve of your buttock. He grabs your hips with his hands, fully buried in your cunt.

“I want you to fuck me, baby. I need you there. Please.”

“Shit. Ok, ok. I don’t wanna hurt you, need to prepare you properly,” he says, as he leans forward, his chest surrounding your back, and kisses the back of your neck.

“You won’t hurt me, Joel,” you breathe. “I’m ready.” He never hurts you, and will never. You know it, as he should. 

He kisses your back, says “ok” against your skin. Licks you one last time, from your pussy to your ring, pressing his tongue against it again, making you shiver at the sensation. 

He hesitates when he grabs your hips, he doesn’t really know why. You’ve taken him here dozens of times. But right now, he feels invaded by an emotion that grips him, even though you know each other perfectly. 

He remembers when you met. Heart broken, your trust in men destroyed. How you rebuilt it, both of you, patiently. And he’s moved by your total surrender, by the way you trust him. He thinks that you’re the best thing that ever happened to him. He tries to focus while his cock flows with precum, but he’s lost in his thoughts.

“Joel? Are you ok?” you finally say, feeling him static. He’s so different from usual, not… feral. He clears his throat before answering “yeah… huh… Yeah, sorry, baby. You’re just… you’re so beautiful and I love you so much. I’m sorry.”

He takes his cock in his hand and is about to position himself at your back door when you straighten on your hands and turn your head to look at him over your shoulder. Offering him the most beautiful of your smiles, which makes him melt even more.

“I love you too.”

You look at him, and god, he’s so beautiful. A few beads of sweat are dripping from his curls and his cheeks are slightly red. He seems so vulnerable at this moment. Your gaze falls down on his shoulders and chest. His biceps are tense, as he grips your hips and presses himself against you, his hard cock molding perfectly into the crack of your ass.

“You won’t hurt me,” you repeat. Nodding at him as he did about the vibrator.

“Fuck… you’re making me lose my damn mind. Come here, sweetheart”, he says, making you lay on your back. He settles between your thighs and caresses your cheek, as his lips land on yours. Then he presses his cock softly against your ring.

“I wanna look at your pretty face while I fuck your ass, baby,” he says, spreading your thighs with his knee, then grabing one of them with his hand to put it on his back. You do the same with the other, open, offered, and he pushes in slowly. Eyes fixed on you. You close yours as you feel him slide into you and he brushes your cheek with his thumb.

“Look at me, sweetheart. Lemme see you. Lemme see what you feel.”

He’s so sweet you could burst into tears. So perfect. So you nod, ready to give him what he needs. And he sinks in, slowly, and like always you feel like you’re almost suffocating, for two seconds. Your brows furrow, as his do. He caresses your cheek, and the sensation disappears, replaced by the pleasure of feeling him there, that it seems so natural, that he’s made for you. You think about all of this, your eyes fixed on his, and he’s lost in yours. 

Until he comes to his senses, a little, and leans down to kiss you. His lips press against yours, and you feel him moan into your mouth. You nibble his lip before licking it with the tip of your tongue and he chuckles. He kisses you again, and it gets messier. His tongue slides between your lips and searches for yours, swirling against it. Your salivas mix together, while he rocks his cock fully inside you. He straightens up slightly and looks at you, before pressing his forehead against yours. “Damn, baby…” he breathes.

You hold him close. Tighten your legs around his waist, your arms around his shoulders. You freeze for a moment, as if you want to mark this moment in your mind forever.

“Fuck,” he says.

“I know, baby,” you reply. “But, can you move for me? It feels like you’re gonna tear me apart soon.”

He chuckles again, then slowly pulls out, leaving just his tip inside you. Pushes back in, letting out another “fuck.”

He takes a slow, steady pace, as you stroke his cheek and then tuck a strand of hair back into place.

“What are you doin’ to me sweetheart, mmm? Wanted to fuck you all night. To wreck you, just like you love it. But you're the one wreckin’ me.”

“Don’t I do it every time,” you tell him mischievously.

He laughs then whines playfully “You’re so right. I’m the victim here.” 

It's one of your favorite things about Joel. Laughing when you fuck. Laughing even when he fucks your there.

He slides in and out, tirelessly, and his crotch rubs against your clit.  

“And you can still fuck me all night, by the way.”

“Is that right?” He smiles, but you see him twitch. As if his emotions were taking over him again. “You’re mine, he pants. “All…fuck…fuckin’ mine.”

“I'm yours,” you reply, eyes fixed on him. “You're the best thing that happened to me, Joel.”

He kisses you again, as he keeps sinking in. You cup his cheeks in your hands to look at him, and he kisses your wrist.

“It's good, Joel. To feel you like that. So softly.” You feel yourself melting and put your hand on his heart. To see if he feels the same, even though his eyes don't lie, never.

“You're gonna make me come,” you whisper. “You feel it?”

“Yeah,” he smiles softly. He's so beautiful. So protective, so careful. Even when he's rough, he is. But right now, you feel like he's made of glass, ready to explode into a thousand pieces. A fragile material, hidden under a hard, reliable, calloused layer. Shaped over the years. Whose core he's let you see, step by step. 

And his thick layer is chipped, ripped open, just for you. Thanks to your senses, your sensations, your feelings, to both of you. And even if he is inside you, in your most intimate place, you feel that his fragility is exposed, and that he willingly offers it to you. Because he is safe with you. You think that there is nothing more erotic than a man who shows all his rough edges, all his cracks.

He's still thrusting in, slowly. You know he's trying not to come, not right away. Not before you do.

“Sweetheart, damn…you know how much I love to fuck you rough,” he murmurs, his hips and shoulders thrusting towards you. “But this. This is… so special. To feel you like this, and facing you. Being in you there, so slowly, and looking at you.”

“I know. I never felt something like this before.”

His lower belly still rubs against you, every time his shaft pushes in and out. He’s so big inside you. So… in his place. Your moans get louder as you feel your orgasm building. From afar. Like a ball of heat that keeps growing inside you. Your pelvis moves slightly more too, perfectly accompanying his movements. You squeeze your ankles together behind his back.

“You’re gonna fill me, baby?” you ask, keeping him against you, your hand on the back of his neck, his nose buried in yours.

“Shit… don’t say that. I’m already about to combust.” His voice is muffled, breathless, against your skin.

“I wanna feel you spurt in me. Right there. Want you to fill my ass.” You keep talking, because it turns you on. You want to come at the same time as him. You want the intimacy to continue and reach its peak until you both come. You want to lose your senses in his arms, at the same time as he loses them in yours.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… you… brat.” He groans, moans, a mixture of all of that, and your eyes roll into the back of your skull.

“Please I need you to come sweetheart… oh fuck I’m gonna… I’m gonna…. fuck, baby…” he explodes in you, sending shots of cum deep inside you, and his jerks against you are the last push you need. You pulse, clench on him, your pussy empty and your ass full. “Oh fuck”, he growls again, feeling how hard you’re squeezing his shaft. He nibbles at your shoulder as your limbs go limp. His body leans against yours, and he’s out of breath as you slowly stop shaking.

He doesn’t move, until he manages to regain his senses, his breathing, and everything that brings him back to earth, to the present moment. Then he straightens his torso, relieving you of his weight even if it feels like a weighted blanket, reassuring.

“Are you ok?” he asks, hands on your cheeks as he pulls out, making you feel desperately empty. His cum leaks out and you miss him already.

“Sweetheart?” His thumb brushes your cheek.

“Yeah… Yes,” you breathe. “Let me just… remember my name. And yours,” you smile, eyes still closed.

“You, little minx,” he laughs, grabs your waist and kisses your neck, and you wrap your arms around him again. You laugh too. You feel good.

“Damn, what was that? It was so intense, sweetheart.” He shifts and lies down facing you, pulling you towards him so that you’re facing each other.

“It was perfect,” you reply, nestling in his arms, in the middle of his chest, where nothing can reach you.

“Are you trying to bewitch me? Cause it’s… kinda working.”

You lift your head to look at him, and say, “You’re such a softie,” giggling.

He looks fakely outraged, before answering “oh yeah? You won’t be allowed to whine when this softie will make you use your safe word, next time he fucks you.”

“Mmm… remember me, when did I use it?”

He rolls his eyes exaggeratedly without answering.

“That’s right. Never,” you answer before kissing his collar bone.

He takes you in his arms and laughs, rolling you over so that you’re lying on him and kisses you.

“Come take a shower with me. Wanna take care of you.”

“Softie,” you taunt him, giving him your most mischievous smile.

Same couple: 5 days collection

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[feral4daryl]

I would love to see a fic of Daryl with pregnant reader (bonus points if there’s a breeding kink [if you’re comfortable, I didn’t see it in the list] that results in her being that way). She’s concerned about the changes in her body and that he doesn’t find her attractive in her condition. So, Daryl gets to share his love for pregophillia. :)

masterlist || MDNI

depths of your despair.

daryl dixon x pregnant!reader

summary: after a series of misunderstandings, insecurities regarding your pregnancy start affecting your relationship with daryl. but as soon as he becomes aware of that, he makes it up to you, worshipping your pregnant body like he should've done since the beginning.

warnings: 18+ smut, pregophilia, dirty talk, pet names, praising, cunnilingus, degradation, daddy kink, creampie, impregnation, arguments, rough sex, pregnancy sex, outdoors sex, slight choking, dacryphilia, self-consciousness, manhandling (if you squint), squirting.

word count: 8.1k

a/n: tysm for your request, i really enjoyed writing this one <3 it turned out a tiny bit more angsty than i intended it to but i promised it has a happy ending!

<flashback>

“Tha's righ', doll” Daryl cooed against your ear, harshly gripping your hips to keep you in place while he pounded your tight cunt at a fast pace. His chest pressing on your back, making your body shake with intense pleasure at his every thrust, each one deeper than the previous. You could feel his sweat wetting your body, barely able to keep your eyes open.

“Takin' daddy's cock so well like a good lil’ slut” The contrast between praising and degrading turns your brain into putty. That man knew all your weakest spots, he always knew exactly what to say to make you weak in the knees, struggling to keep yourself on your feet. You couldn't think of anything else or anyone else in that moment but him and the feeling of his big cock almost ripping your little cunny apart.

Daryl's always been the sweetest to you, always making sure you were safe, giving you all the shoulders when you cried, but when it came to sex, he was always just so eager and desperate for you that he couldn't help but be rough. He made every fucking feel like the last one, as if it was his last chance to ever lay his hands on you. He made it count, making you wonder how you were capable to have lived so many years without that man before you met him.

You tried to keep quiet, careful not to catch the attention of any of those walking dead fuckers' roaming around the woods while Daryl harshly abused you against a tree, whispering the dirtiest words into your ears. But he wasn't making it easy on you, and despite your effort, your moans and cries were getting louder and louder as you got closer to your high. He reveled in the way you bit your lips and threw your head back to rest it on his shoulder. He took the opportunity to let go of your hips and wrap his big arm around your throat, his other palm now pressing against your lips in an attempt to muffle your sounds.

“Shhh...” He shushed you. “Be nice 'n quiet fer daddy, yea?” His teasing words and a small nibble on your earlobe from him were all it took to make your legs finally fail as you sank to your knees. Instead of holding you up, he nearly finished throwing you on the dirt, laying your body flat on it. The tickling of the leaves and the rough texture of the ground could almost bother you if you weren't so lost in pleasure. He got even rougher, if that was possible, banging his hips against your ass so hard that made your moans shaky and your eyes start tearing up.

He loved whenever he gave you so much pleasure that you cried on his cock, the sight of thick tears running down your cheeks only fueling his twisted desires for you.

“Aww, wha's the matter, sunshine?” He mocked you, his voice coming out a bit louder than he expected. His piercing blue eyes looked around for a moment, searching for any threats but never stopping railing you. When he found none, he fully returned his attention to you, noticing the way your moans had practically dissipated and your had your eyes shut tight, a clear sign that you were dangerously close to cumming.

“Gunna cum fer daddy?” The volume of his groans and grunts getting harder and harder to hold back. You weren't able to speak with his hand pressed against your mouth and almost couldn't breathe with his big bicep wrapped around your throat, but you managed to nod slightly.

“Fuck, 'm gunna cum!” His needy voice filled your empty mind and you felt his hips stuttering when the rhythm of his thrusts started faltering. “Gunna fill ya up, make ya heavy w' ma babies.” You widened your eyes out, it was the first time he ever said something like that. But you were willing to give that man all he wanted, make his every wish come true like your life depended on it. You wouldn't say no to him and honestly, the thought of caring his children strangely turned you on even further. A faint smirk managed to creep on your face.

“Ya wan' tha', beautiful? Ya wan' Daddy ta make ya pregnant, hm?” How could you ever say no to him when the neediness in his voice was so obvious?

“P-please, fuck a baby into me.” The strangled sound of your voice while you begged him to fill you up was the fuse for him to finally start shooting ropes of cum into your velvety walls. Your tight pussy clenched around his cock as you weren't able to stop your own orgasm from dominating all your senses. It was like the world stopped spinning and the whole Universe contributed to make that moment perfect.

As both of you came down from your highs, Daryl gently brushed a strand of hair off your cheek, tugging it behind your ear to place a soft kiss to your temper. In that moment, the sounds of your labored breathing as you struggled to catch your breath was all that could've been heard until he let out a light chuckle.

“Can't believe we did this.” You could hear a smile in his voice while he pressed his cheek against the back of your head for a last time before adjusting his position, sitting down on the dirt and gently grabbing your arms, helping you do the same. Even though you were in the middle of the woods, you couldn't care less about it. All you wanted was to be in Daryl's strong embrace. “But I'm glad we did” You whispered, snuggling his chest.

<end of flashback>

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀~4 months later~

It still felt vivid.

It's like you could still feel his love from 4 months ago, the way he groped your body and made love to you like it was the last time. How ironic, if somebody told you that was actually the last time, you would have laughed right in their face. Now, as you unwrapped the towel off your naked body and tossed it aside to stare at yourself into the mirror, you wondered if you'd made the right choice, if you really should've let the heat of the moment get the best of you.

Your belly was round and your bellybutton was puffing out, an unusual look to you but it's been your reality for the past 4 months. You didn't really know how to feel about it. You were happy to be the one having the privilege to carry Daryl's baby, but at the same time it still felt so new and strange to you. And the way he felt so distant since the day when he knocked you up was not helping you feel any better about it.

He wasn't exactly neglectful of your needs as a pregnant woman. He was always around you, making sure you were safe, helping you through the symptoms of pregnancy, holding your hair up whenever you threw up. He was there, but at the same time, he wasn't.

4 months ago Daryl used to be so eager for you, always so thirsty for you. And now, he just left you aching for his touch. Whenever you tried to initiate some intimacy, he turned you down, leaving you confused at his strange behavior. He definitely wasn't the type of guy to refuse sex, at least not after knowing you, so you started wondering if you were the problem.

The stretch marks on your belly were getting more and more obvious as the time passed, your breasts all swelled up with milk. You gained some weight, and as you leaned in closer to check on your face on the mirror, you could see how round your face was getting.

Disgust.

That's what you felt when you looked at yourself. You were so sure your looks were the reason why Daryl wanted nothing to do with your body ever since you got pregnant. As that feeling filled up your whole body, you quickly started putting some clothes on, not able to look at yourself like that not even for one more second. Maybe he didn't like you in dresses, you wondered, trying to find a reasonable motive for his absence when it came to the moments of intimacy between you two that used to be so frequent and special in your relationship. Anyways, loose dresses were all that fit your body as your belly grew bigger and bigger each day.

It just broke your heart. The feeling of helplessness took over you as thick tears ran down your face, smearing the makeup you started to put on to see if it would make him even just a little bit interested in you. But just as all your other attempts, it was useless. You brought your soft palm to your mouth to muffle your sobs, but that only reminded you of how Daryl used to do the same exact thing to muffle your moans when he loved your body. More and more tears streamed down your cheeks as you reminisced your last time together like that.

You made a decision. You didn't want to suffer like that anymore, so you decided that you were gonna try to get his attention for the last time before shutting down completely. You didn't wanna give his love up, but you were so tired of practically begging for him only for him to brush you off every time. You sighed and looked at yourself on the mirror for the last time, wiping your tears away and taking a deep breath before going about your day.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀~Later that same day~

It was dark and Daryl still hadn't come home from his run. He was out scavenging, or hunting, you weren't even sure since you didn't bother to ask much. You had promised yourself that you were going to try to be intimate with him one last time, but that day he just vanished, leaving you waiting for him all day until you gave up waiting. You weren't only disappointed, you were almost angry at him, trying to give him a taste of his own medicine. But who were you trying to fool? That didn't make you feel better at all and you weren't sure if he noticed it.

It was happening again, that one familiar knot started forming in your throat as your lips pouted and you pulled the blanket over your head, feeling embarrassed at your own vulnerability. You brought a hand to your own belly, gently stroking it. Oh, how you loved that little bundle of happiness that was growing inside you. But at the same time, you felt so strange about it. You loved your baby, that's for sure, but you felt like it was the reason why Daryl didn't want you anymore. At the same time it made you hopeful of a new beginning in life, it was reminder of the day when Daryl stopped finding you attractive, even remotely.

Once again you weren't able to hold your sobs back, but this time, you were forced to abruptly swallow them down when you heard the creak sound of the door being gently pulled open. You knew who it was, and you almost wish you didn't.

“Pumpkin'?” Daryl's quiet voice filled the room as he called you that stupid nickname he only used when he knew you were feeling down. You didn't answer.

Light footsteps could be heard getting closer and closer to the bed before you felt the weight of his body on the edge of the mattress. “Y/N, hun'?” He called for you again, but when he got no answer for the second time, he reached for you, gently touching your arm from over the blanket.

“What do you want?" Your tone sounded a bit harsher than you intended to, but you didn't care. He sighed.

“I think we need ta talk, pumpkin'” He voice, making you even more frustrated.

“Quit calling me that, alright?” The muffled sound of your voice reached his ear, and he flinched a little at your sudden aggressiveness, removing his hand from you.

He was silent for a moment, digesting your strange reaction after speaking again with an even softer tone. “Aigh'.” He sighed. “Listen, Y/N...” It's like he was struggling to form a sentence. He was never really the type of person to have the right words or to know what to say to comfort somebody, but he tried nonetheless.

“I need ta know wha's happenin' if ya wan' me ta help.” He muttered. You almost felt guilty at the way you were treating him, but you had enough.

“Ugh, Daryl.” The way you said his name had a hint of scorn, a clear reflexion of the troubled feelings in your heart. You finally pulled the blanket off your face, lifting your body up to sit down on the mattress in a quick and almost aggressive motion. “Who the fuck said I need your help? Just leave me alone, ignore me like you always do.” You spitted out, looking deep into Daryl's widened out eyes. “I don't want you here.” You continued. You knew damn well you were saying all that because you thought that's how he felt, like some sort of revenge, but your heart was broken because of him. It was his fault and you were tired of pretending everything was okay. “Why don't you go fuck some other slut out there? Maybe they're better, thinner, prettier than me!” Your tone was filled with hurt as you voiced your insecurities. “Maybe you should be with them once and for all.” You practically whispered that last line, muttering under your breath.

The truth was you started considering the possibility of Daryl having an affair behind your back ever since you got pregnant. And you just couldn't take it, you couldn't help the way your heart shattered at the thought of Daryl putting his hand on another woman, making her feel good just how he used to do when he still loved you. You were so sure he hadn't left you yet just because he wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing that he left a pregnant woman behind. You knew that was the only reason was he still bothered to even talk to you.

Daryl was so dumbfounded by your attitude, since you were usually such a sweet and caring person, that he freezed. He didn't know what to say or do, so he just sit there, looking obviously negativity affected by your harsh words, wondering what the hell did he do to deserve that kind of treatment.

“Y/N-” He started talking, but you were having none of it. You spent so long begging him attention that now you just didn't want it anymore. When he threatened to scoop closer in a final attempt to ease things out, you surprised him by pushing him away from you with your hand pressed on his chest. “Get out!" You practically yelled. That was the most shocked you've ever seen Daryl's face before. After a moment, he averted his gaze to the floor, looking lost in thought before standing up and nodding slowly, knowing better than to push you harder. He walked to the door and closed it behind him, finally leaving you alone as you wanted him to. Or at least that's what you thought.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ *One week later*

You haven't seen Daryl since your last one-sided argument. If you missed him before, now the feeling got even worse. Ever since he closed that door a week ago, you haven't even heard of him. Maybe he'd left you for good. But could you blame him? You literally kicked him out of your life like it didn't matter. But after all, he was the one that made it feel like it didn't matter. That's what you had to keep feeling yourself, trying to comfort your poor soul or make yourself feel any less guilty. It didn't really work, though.

You tried. When he was gone for the first day, you wasted no time before trying to make it up to all the time you lost longing for him. You flirted with random men and women, trying to catch a glimpse of that feeling you used to get when Daryl gave you attention, but it wasn't the same, it didn't feel remotely similar. Maybe pushing him away like that was a mistake, maybe you had really lost him.

But fuck it. You were pregnant with his baby and he still had the gut to leave you behind. You had every single right to be mad and to try to restart your life, this time away from him. Even though it had been only one week, it felt like an eternity, every second he wasn't there made you feel every cell on your body begging for him, but you couldn't give in.

Sigh.

Spencer. You noticed the way he looked at you before and after you got pregnant. His gaze didn't change, he still licked his lips and looked you up and down with that stupid smirk on his face everytime you walked by. He was often the reason for arguments between you and Daryl when you were still together, but now, there was nothing stopping you. Not that you were attracted to him exactly, to be honest, he kind of annoyed you, but you just wanted to try. You just wanted to give yourself a chance to be loved, actually loved, not only for your looks. Deep inside, you knew you were just needy to feel something, anything, but you couldn't be blamed for wanting to feel okay after such a long time of feeling neglected.

You turned your head to search for him just to notice he was already staring from afar. You turned your head to face forward again, feeling a bit uncomfortable at the way he looked at you. Now that Daryl was gone, that type of behavior wasn't unusual coming from Spencer. He got even more spunky than before, flirting with you every single time he had the opportunity to. You swallowed your pride, trying to convince yourself that you were actually into him, taking a moment to decide whether or not to approach him and try something. You knew he wouldn't reject you, you just needed to dominate your heart that was still very much in love with Daryl and move on with your life, and maybe trying something with someone new was the first step to finally get over him.

As you gathered up the nerve to walk over to Spencer, slowly turning your body, you gasped in surprise noticing that he was already standing behind you. You were so lost in thought that you didn't even hear him approaching you.

“Easy there, doll.” He uttered. It felt weird to have anyone else that wasn't Daryl calling you pet names, but you quickly shook those thoughts away, trying to focus on the present. “Hey.” You answered, sounding significantly more uninterested than you meant to.

“What's eating you?” He pondered with a hint of playfulness in his voice and that stupid grin once again when he noticed your stiffness.

“Nothing.” You faked a smile. “What you been up to?” You tried to remain polite but flirty at the same time, trying your best to cover up how much you found him annoying. It was for the best, you thought. You just needed to adapt.

“Well...” He came closer. You had to fight all the urges to step away. “You know, the usual. I was just...” His fingers brushed your cheek before tugging a strand of hair behind your ear. Too close. But you continued playing along as he resumed his speech. “... Admiring your beauty.” God, could he get any cornier than that? It's like everyone that wasn't Daryl just looked so stupid trying to get your attention. There was you again, thinking about the archer. You sighed, failing to mask your lack of interest towards Spencer, but you managed to speak either way.

“Uh... Thanks...” You scratched the back of your head, feeling uncomfortable at his advances, but you tried to remind yourself that that whole thing meant a new start.

He looked so full of himself when he puffed his chest and had the audacity to say: “Can I follow you home?” You tilted your head in confusion. “Huh?” For the first time since you acknowledged his presence, he actually had your attention.

“Cause my parents always told me to follow my dreams.” He said that as if it was the most genius thing one could say. You had to make physical effort not to throw up or burst out laughing right there and then. The hell was that supposed to mean? Were you really the type of woman to fall for corny pick-up lines? But... You didn't really had other options. You had to give him a chance, maybe he was the one.

Either way, you couldn't bring yourself to say anything, so you just stood there with a stupid fake smile on your face. Spencer must've interpreted that as an invitation, because he leaned in, his face inches away from yours. You two weren't even 3 minutes into that conversation and he was already all over you. You wondered if that whole situation was awkward just for you, because he behaved as if he had you wrapped tight around his finger.

You really, really wanted to start running right away from him, but you were paralyzed, trying to decide if you should stay or go. But before you could make up your mind, he pulled you in by the back of your head, connecting your lips together.

Ugh.

It was probably the most awkward kiss of your life, as if you just forgot how to kiss in that moment. You widened your eyes out at the uncalled situation, and as he licked, bit and kissed your lips, yours remained stiff, like he was kissing you but you weren't kissing him. You felt deeply disgusted. What were you doing? Just like your lips, your arms were rigid on your sides, but his hands were roaming all over your body. You felt assaulted, even though you were allowing him to do that.

You wondered how the hell you ended up there: pregnant, with a missing boyfriend and making out with some douchebag out of emotional deprivation. In that moment, it finally clicked, you were just trying to fill the hole Daryl's absence left in your heart, and putting up with Spencer's audacious manners was no way of dealing with grief.

You finally pushed him away, accidentally sounding too annoyed. “See you around.” You spitted out before turning around and leaving him standing there in confusion, or maybe confidence, you didn't know since you didn't bother to study his reaction before quickly entering the house you were settled in in Alexandria.

You closed the door behind you, pressing your hands on your face, fighting the urge to scream and let all that frustration out. You slowly slid your back against the wooden door until your bottom reached the floor. If one word could describe you right now, it was helpless. For the hundredth time in the past few months, you started crying. It was like it was all you knew how to do since you lost control of your life. Oh, how you regretted that one moment 4 months ago where you slipped, causing your life to be destroyed right before your eyes while not being able to do a thing about it. Now not only you felt ugly, but you felt ugly and lonely. Your sobs got louder and louder as you wrapped your arms around your legs, lowering your head to press your forehead to your knees.

Knock-knock

Suddenly, you heard a knock at the door. You abruptly interrupted your crying, feeling embarrassed at the possibility that someone's heard you like that. After a few seconds, you heard another knock. You sighed.

“Leave me alone...” You muttered loud enough to be heard from the other side of the door. You knew it was probably Carol coming to visit, maybe bringing you some cookies or something like that to make you feel better. It was so sweet of her, but you hated how everyone was treating you ever since Daryl disappeared. You just couldn't take the look in their eyes, the so obvious pity they felt. After all, you were a recently abandoned mother, and Carol along with your other group mates, just wanted to be there for you. Little did they know they were just making it worse.

When you were starting to think the person finally left, you heard a third knock on the door. Whoever was there, didn't seem to be giving up soon. You almost felt grateful for having someone give a shit about you, but deep down you just wanted to be left alone. You breathed out for a last time before standing up with difficulty due to your heavy pregnant belly and reaching for the doorknob, contemplating whether you should let them in or not. Then, you turned it and slowly pulled the door open.

Your eyes remained glued to the floor, not having the courage to look into anyone's eyes right now. Then, to your surprise, a familiar hoarse voice made its way to your ears.

“The hell was tha'?” You swiftly lifted you chin up, locking eyes with him, the man who left you when you needed him the most. He definitely had seen your pathetic attempt of feeling appreciated with Spencer. For a millisecond, you were actually relieved to see Daryl, but quickly enough anger flooded your senses once again. It's like it was all coming back to you, the same exact feeling from one week ago when you saw him for the last time making your blood boil once again. How did he dare to disappear into the world and then come back as if nothing happened?

You didn't wanna waste no more time with him and that situation anymore, it was just too nerve-wracking and you just needed a break from all that. So you aggressively pushed the door aiming to slam it on his face, but he was more cunning and placed a hand on the way, stopping it from closing all the way.

“Please, Y/N!” He almost shouted, visibly impatient. You turned your back and started walking further into the house, ignoring his calls for you.

“Can ya please just talk ta me?!” He continued, following you around. You remained trying to disconsider his presence.

“Why r ya doin' this fer, woman?!” Now, he finally yelled. It was the first time he ever raised his voice at you. In that moment, you felt like any hint of the caring man you once loved had faded away forever. The feeling hit you like a truck and you stopped your angry steps, turning around so your back was facing him. You couldn't stop your tears from falling not even if you wanted to, and suddenly, all your anger was replaced with a deep sadness. You weren't even trying to muffle your loud noises, sniffing and sobbing hard. When he saw you like that, he decided to just drop it and pretend like he hadn't seen you kissing that bastard. It felt a sacrifice to him, but he didn't want to make you feel worse than you already did.

For a few moments, Daryl gave you some space, not trying to startle you or make things worse. Then, after a while of silence and almost feeling as if you were alone in the room, you felt a warm breath hitting your ear. Shivers ran down your spine, something you hadn't felt in such a long time.

He studied your reaction, and when he felt it was okay to touch you, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling your back closer to his chest. That made you cry even harder, the sting in your heart getting worse. But at the same time, it felt so good to finally be in his embrace once again. You had missed his strong arms and his warmth so bad, it was a mix of confusion and relief. You wanted to push him away, yell at him, tell him to go, but the second his scent of cigarettes and wet grass filled your nose, you knew you wouldn't be able to. That's how much you missed him, though you weren't ready to asmit it just yet.

“Jus'... lemme talk to ya..." He whispered, placing a soft kiss to the skin behind your ear. And just like that, you melted in his hands. You had no idea what to say, but you were willing to listen to whatever came out of his mouth.

“I jus' wanna know wha' happened. I understand, 'm s'pposed ta know and 'm a dick fer not knowing, but... If ya don' talk ta me, I... I jus' won' know how ta make things righ'.” He was so gentle with his words, so caring. He sounded actually worried, making the situation so puzzling to you. You opened to mouth to speak, but nothing came out of it.

“Ya said sumthin' 'bout me goin' out with other women...” He spoke after a few seconds. “Wha'... Wha' was that all about? I would never...” Daryl didn't really have a way with his words, but you could see he was putting effort into talking to you and trying to fix things. The way he kept you tightly into his hug and his fingers brushed gently against your arm were actually being helpful, and your sobs slowly faded away as your tears stopped falling.

“You don't want me anymore." That's all you managed to speak before you felt tears threatening to fall once again, but you inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, trying to keep calm. You couldn't see his face, but Daryl furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Wha'd'ya mean, hun'?” Those pet names never failed to make you weak in the knees. “I couldn't ever, ever stop wantin' ya. Ever.” He whispered the last word. As he did so, he traveled one hand down your plump belly, caressing it ever so gently. It almost made you want to cry again.

“Then where did you go? Why'd you leave me? Why'd ya even come back?” Even though you stopped crying, your voice was still unstable.

“...'Cuz ya asked me ta and I... I wanted ta respect yer choice. 'M here now 'cuz... I can't live withoutcha. I... need a second chance.” Now, he was the one with a shaky voice. Seeing him like that broke your heart.

“I told you to leave because I didn't wanna force you to be with me. I didn't...” You gulped. “I didn't wanna baby trap you or something like that, I don't know...” You sniffed. Throughout that whole conversation, you kept your arms stiff. But then, you lifted one of them to wipe your nose with back of your hand.

“...I don' get it.” He mouthed. You sighed, finally turning to look at him. After such a long time, looking into his eyes was a remedy to your infirm heart.

“Look, Daryl, I know I'm not in my best shape, alright? I know this whole 'baby' thing changed me, I know that my body ain't the same anymore. All these stretch marks, my face, my belly, I know it all deforms me and...” He just stood there with an unreadable expression. “...And you have every reason not to find me attractive anymore, and I'm just so sorry that I kept pushing you into having sex with me, I should've just given you some space, I...” Those stubborn tears you've been trying to hold back finally get the best of you. “I'm sorry that I snapped at you, I'm sorry that I've been such a bitch, you... You shouldn't see me like this, and... And I-”

Daryl interrupted your babbling nonsense, grabbing your face with both of his hands and pulling you in for what felt like your first kiss. It was probably the most gentle you've ever been kissed in your whole life. You didn't know you craved the warmth of his calloused hands against your wet cheeks that badly until you had it. Everytime a thick tear dared to run down your beautiful face, he quickly wiped it away with his thumbs. After what felt like an eternity, he slowly broke the kiss, but remained with his forehead pressed against yours.

“Yer the most beautiful woman 've ever seen.” His sweet whispers made you finally feel safe after feeling lost for so long. “N there's nuthin', nuthin' in this world tha' could ever change tha'.” You were left speechless as he contradicted you. “If only ya knew how badly I wanted ta touch ya... It's not easy seein' you walk 'round all heavy with ma babies, knowin' I was the one tha' made ya like this n not bein' able to eat you up alive... God, ya look so...” He let out a guttural grunt. “...So fuckin' hot.”

Your mind was rushing. So this whole time he didn't think you looked terrible? He actually... Liked it? In your head, it made no sense.

“If you wanted me so badly, then why did you reject me over and over again?” There was a very obvious hint of hurt in your voice, like you were trying hard to believe his words but your own insecurities were stopping you. He averted his gaze from your eyes for the first ever since you broke the kiss. For a moment, he looked in a contemplative state.

“I got scared.” He admitted. Your eyes narrowed.

“...Of what?” You asked. What could ever make Daryl, the most brave man you know, scared?

“Hurtin' ya.” You tilted your head, still not convinced of his reasons. Your silence served as a cue for him to resume speaking. “Seein' you like this... I jus' wanted ta protect you. I... I never thought I'd ever have a child of my own 'n... I don' know how ta say this, but...” His thumb brushed against your cheek once again. “...I thought ya were doin' this fer me. I thought maybe, I dunno... Maybe you felt like ya had to be there fer me, y'know, sexually...” He was stuttering and struggling to speak his mind. “I felt like if I said yes... I'd be forcin' ya.” He placed a peck on your soft lips. “But I do wan' ya. 'Ve been wantin' ta have ma way with ya fer so long...” He closed his eyes.

“Then what's stopping you?” You challenged him. You almost felt stupid for thinking he didn't want you that whole time and he was actually just trying to protect you. As those words left your mouth, his eyes snapped open, and suddenly, they had a different aura to them. They were darker.

I'm a swift motion, Daryl pulled you in for another kiss, but this time, a more needy one. Though his touch showed he was aching for you, it was still gentle. He didn't wanna hurt you, after all you were still pregnant.

He gently bit down on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth before letting it snap back. His piercing gaze found yours and the way he smirked at you made your body tremble in anticipation.

His hands found the strap of your dress, slightly fidgeting with the tied bow strap over your shoulder just to tease you. And when he finally undid it, your dress slid down your body and onto the floor, revealing your semi-bareness to him.

That's when it kicked again, your self-consciousness taking a hold of you and in a flash, you felt the urge to cover yourself up. Daryl hadn't seen you naked ever since the last time you were intimate together, you two even stopped showering at the same time due to all of the previous misunderstandings. It almost felt like one of those dreams where you're completely naked in school, vulnerably standing in front of the judging eyes of everyone else, even though you were still in your underwear. As you felt your face warming up in embarrasement, you shifted your hands to your swollen breasts and your legs instinctively closed.

Your shy manners didn't go unnoticed by Daryl's attentive eyes. “Hun'...” He brought his hands to your own, softly stroking them until you eased your grasp on your breasts. “Ya can trust me.” He murmured. You took a deep breath and you finally let your hands fall to the side, fully revealing your bra to his sight. A smirk tugged on the corner of his mouth and he looked lost in your beauty.

“God, look at those tits...” He said mainly to himself. The way your breasts were all swollen, all heavy with milk awakened desires within him he didn't even know he had. He reached behind your back to unclasp your bra, removing it and tossing it aside.

He wondered how he was able to deny his attention to those beauties for so long. If he had properly talked to you about his intentions from the beginning, probably none of that misinterpretation would've happened, he thought. But that time wasn't one to mourn, but to cherish. Without warnings, he grasped one of your nipples with his mouth like a starving man while gently but firmly squeezing your other one. You let out a small squeak of pleasure, blushing at his sudden eagerness. Some of your milk leaked, and he was quick to lap at the liquid, wasting none of it. The sweet and mild taste of your essence coated his tongue, sending shock waves of ecstasy all the way down to his cock and in no time, his pants started feeling way too tight. But in that moment, he just wanted to make you feel good and appreciated, so he payed little to no mind to his forming erection.

“Ya taste so fuckin' good.” He groaned against your skin. You were too embarrassed to say anything, but you loved when he talked dirty like that to you, it made your pussy even wetter if that was even possible. He kept his attention to your breasts for a while, teasing, flicking and sucking on them until your nipples felt sore. Then, he made a trail of kisses from your under boob until his lips reached your belly button, slowly sinking down on his knees. He placed soft kisses all over your round belly.

“Look at ya, carryin' ma babies like a good girl.” He looked up at you for a moment, biting his lips at you. You gave him a shy smile, clearly affected by his sweet praising, and he found you so adorable like that. He'd been wanting to put his hands on you for so, so long and he finally had the opportunity to. You looked prettier than ever and he was determined to convince you.

“Let's get ya settled, yea?” And with that, he carefully picked you up bridal style, paying attention not to hurt you. He carried you to the couch, laying you down on it on your back, too eager to go upstairs and to your room, he wanted it there and then. Now, feeling a little more confident thanks to all his praising, your legs instinctively spread themselves out for him, revealing a wet stain on your white panties, clear sign of your arousal.

That sight made a smirk creep on his face, his hands roaming up and down your legs as he pulled them even further apart. “Is this all fer me?” He asked, even though he already knew the answer. You were so visibly surrendered to him, he could see how much you missed him because he shared the same exact longing.

His hands slowly made their way down to your core, his thumb gently rubbing your clit in circling motions over the fabric of your panties. You were so desperate to feel anything that you felt like his most subtle touch could make you cum in the same second. Still, you wanted more. You needed more.

“D-Dar...” You muttered under your breath, throwing your head back as his finger starting working your clit a bit faster and adding a little more pressure. “Wha' is it, doll, hm? Tell me what ya need.” His teasing words only made you more hungry for him. “Mmm...” You protested, struggling to put your desires into words. “C'mon, jus' say the word and I'll give it ta ya.” He encouraged you with the sweetest tone, slowing down his motions against your extremely sensitive clit just to tease you.

“Eat my fucking cunt like you mean it.” You spitted out, your voice all shaky with need, and even you were surprised at your own bold words.

“Don' need ta tell me twice.” He said before pulling your panties to the side in one swift motion and diving into your wetness, quickly starting his assault on your clit and lapping at your folds. He practically buried his face into you, eating you out like it was the last time. Your back arched in that same second and you already felt embarrassingly close to orgasming. He noticed the way you squirmed and moaned for him, grasping his hair with both hands and humping his face, smearing your slickness all over his handsome features.

And he let you use him for your pleasure however you pleased. That night was about you and about making up to all that wasted time. “D-Daryl...!” Your tone was one of warning. You were barely two minutes in but you could already feel the first orgasmic contractions forming in your lower belly. The way you said his name, he knew damn well you were about to make a mess on his face, and he was all in for it.

You threw your head back and let out a loud high-pitched moan as you coated his tongue with your wetness, and all he could do was hum against your sensitive skin, sending vibrations all over your cunt and intensifying the sensation. Despite your first signs of overstimulation, he continued enthusiastically lapping at your juices until you were a quivering mess under his tongue. You had to manually give his head a very gentle push so you could have a break from that intense pleasure. You chuckled at his excitement to please you. If you had ever felt insecure about any of that before, you couldn't remember it.

He lifted his head up, placing tender kisses on your pregnant belly once again, stroking it lovingly. “Ya want me ta fuck ya, darlin'?” He said as he crawled up your body, getting face to face with you. You wrap your arms around his neck, forcing his lips against yours in a sensual dance. “'M takin' that as a yes” He voiced with a hint of playfulness. The thought of being inside you made his cock throb even harder inside his pants, and he knew he just couldn't wait any longer. He reached for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and taking it off. Then, he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pushing it down his thighs alongside with his black briefs just enough to free his cock.

Oh, you missed it so fucking badly. You two used to fuck like rabbits before, and after going 4 whole months without getting dicked down by your man, you were more than desperate to feel him. Now, you finally understood your pregnancy wasn't any type of obstacle for sharing pleasure with him.

You stared down at his now visible erection. He was girthy, and you could feel your cunt stretching out just by looking at him. A small droplet of pre-cum threatened to run down his length, from the tip all the way down to his full balls. When you averted your gaze to his face, you could see he was admiring you while you took in the sight of his cock. Your eyes got all sparkly in anticipation, sharing a knowing look with him. You didn't have to say anything and he was always brushing his tip on your slit.

He gently tapped your clit with his tip, watching closely for your reaction, his smirk not fading away not even for one second. Your pussy was so slippery with your wetness that when he pressed his cock against your slit, it went in with ease.

“Fuck.” You moaned in unison. The feeling of his cock going in for the first time was always one of your favorite parts of fucking Daryl. He tried to hold back a little, still careful not to hurt you since you were pregnant after all, but when you wrapped your legs around his waist, he couldn't help but bury his whole cock inside you in one harsh thrust, yearning loud moans from both of you.

You didn't care at all if it hurt or not, you just needed to feel him inside you. He shut his eyes tight and it was obvious that he was fighting the urge to burst right in that same second. He gritted his teeth and leaned in to press his forehead against yours, slowly starting to move his hips. He wasn't exactly thrusting, it was more like humping his cock inside you, which made you grow more and more impatient. You needed him to pound you.

“P-please, Daryl, just... just fuck me already.” The clear frustration on your voice did it for him, and in no time, he started harshly banging his hips against yours, giving you no time to adjust to the pace. Squelching sounds, your moans and the sound of your skins slapping against each other filled the room in a dirty orchestra. The intense smell of sex made you dizzy.

You were so cock-hungry you could fuck that man for days straight without breaks, and as he gently groped your pregnant belly, you knew he wanted you just as much. You couldn't hold back a smile at the sensation of his palms and fingers gently caressing you, contrasting with his hard thrusts inside your pussy.

It was your favorite whenever he treated you like that, with a mix of tenderness and an urge to absolutely rail you. “Fuck, feels so fuckin' good inside this wet cunt.” The archer almost sounded vulnerable. “'M gunna give ya even more babies, princess.” He whispered, his voice a little more high-pitched than usual. The thought of feeling his warm load inside you again made your mind rush and once again, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your high.

As the pleasure grew more intense, your tight walls clenched around Daryl's thick cock, making his legs tremble as he struggled to keep his composure. “Shit baby, if ya keep squeezin' me tight like tha' 'm not gunna last long.” He admitted through gritted teeth. “Don't hold back, give it to me.” Your encouragement words only fueled Daryl's desires even further.

You felt so full, his thrusts getting deeper and deeper, filling you up to the brim. He was still holding onto your round belly, gently not to hurt you, and when you clenched your cunt around him one last time, he moaned louder than ever before.

“Fuckin' take it!” His whole body was shaking as his orgasm coursed through his body. The sight of him like that was so sexy, so dirty and raw that you couldn't help but squirt all over his cock. You didn't even know you could do that, and Daryl looked just as surprised as you as you drenched his cock and lower belly with your arousal. He buried his length deep inside you one last time as the final spurts of his warm cum coated your insides, keeping that position.

“I love ya, Y/N. Dontcha ever forget that again, woman.” He said, placing sweet little pecks all over your face, making you giggle like a little child. “Yer stuck with me. Both of ya.” His hand never left your pregnant belly that whole time, and now, he gently brushed his thumb on it.

“I love you more.” You confessed, bringing a hand to his cheek to cup it, feeling the rough texture of his salt-and-pepper facial hair against your soft hand. As he slightly shifted his position with his cock still deep inside you, you felt how he was still rock hard and ready for you. After such a long waiting, he wasn't ready to stop just yet.

“Round two?” You asked, already predicting his answer.

“Fuck yeah.”

a/n: hi there!! just passing by to thank you for reading this. i know it's not even close to perfect but it took me 10+ hours to write, so i really appreciate you if you read it this far! as i've said before, i'm a beginner writer, so i'm still on the process of adapting and i'm really thankful for all the support you've been showing me. see ya!

[kiesbrainjuice]

— HOW THEY WOULD BE AT YOUR FIRST MATCH AS HIS GIRLFRIEND ! nekoma

pairings (separate) : kenma x fem!reader; kuroo x fem!reader; yamamoto x fem!reader

warnings : none, pure fluff

synopsis : with their team they assist to one of your match for the first time as your boyfriend and how they act.

word count : 1.4k

As……sat with the rest of the Nekoma volleyball team, observing your match together for the first time as a couple, the gymnasium was alive with the energy of competition. The squeaking of shoes on the polished floor, the sharp smacks of palm against volleyball, and the thunderous cheers from the crowd created an electric atmosphere. Each member of the team had their own distinct reactions and interactions, adding depth and commentary to the scene unfolding on the court.

KOZUME KENMA

Kenma, with his usual composed demeanor and sharp focus, was sitting attentively, his cat-like yellow eyes fixed on you as you moved across the court with agility and skill. His fingers twitched slightly, as if itching to set a ball himself. Beside him, Kuroo Tetsurou, Nekoma's charismatic captain and Kenma's closest friend, couldn't resist teasing him.

"Hey, Kenma," Kuroo whispered teasingly, nudging him lightly with an elbow. "Looks like you've got yourself quite the talented girlfriend there. Bet she could kick your ass on the court, huh?"

Kenma glanced at Kuroo, a faint blush tinting his cheeks, though his expression remained calm. "Shut up, asshole," he replied softly, a hint of pride in his voice as he watched you execute a perfect receive.

On Kenma's other side, Yamamoto Taro, the enthusiastic and lively wing spiker, leaned forward eagerly, nearly falling off his seat in excitement. His mohawk seemed to quiver with each point you scored.

"Holy shit, did you see that spike?" Yamamoto exclaimed, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and excitement. "Your girl's a fucking beast out there, Kenma!"

Lev Haiba, the towering middle blocker known for his straightforward nature, nodded enthusiastically, his long legs bouncing with pent-up energy. "Damn straight! I wish I could spike like her," he remarked, his admiration evident as he watched your every move with awe. "Maybe she could teach me a thing or two, eh Kenma?"

Yaku Morisuke, the meticulous libero with a keen eye for detail, observed with a nod of approval. His sharp eyes followed your movements, analyzing your technique with professional interest.

"Her defensive plays are solid as fuck," Yaku noted, his voice quiet yet filled with appreciation for your technique and strategy. "She's got some serious skills, no wonder Kenma's into her."

Inuoka Sou, the energetic and enthusiastic wing spiker who often wore his heart on his sleeve, leaned towards Lev with a mischievous grin. His spiky hair seemed to bristle with excitement as he watched the match.

"Hey Lev, think she'd mind dating a guy who's always this hyper?" he joked, earning a playful shove from Lev in response. "Or is she more into the quiet, brooding type like our Kenma here?"

Kenma, who was usually more focused on strategy and analysis, found himself enjoying the banter and camaraderie of his teammates. Despite his reserved nature, he appreciated the playful teasing and supportive atmosphere they created around him. However, as the match progressed and the comments became more frequent, he started to feel a bit overwhelmed.

Kuroo, noticing Kenma's growing discomfort, couldn't help but push a little further. "Come on, Kenma, spill the beans. How'd a gaming nerd like you land such a hottie?"

That struck a nerve with Kenma, who was feeling a bit more sensitive than usual. His fingers clenched tightly around the edge of his seat, knuckles turning white.

"For fuck's sake, Kuroo, can you lay off?" he muttered, his tone sharper than intended. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes briefly narrowing as he refocused on the match, trying to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks.

Yamamoto, sensing Kenma's discomfort, quickly changed the subject, trying to lighten the mood. His voice boomed across their section of the bleachers, drawing curious glances from nearby spectators.

"Holy crap, look at that save!" he exclaimed, clapping enthusiastically. "[Name] really knows how to keep us on our toes. She's got reflexes like a damn cat!"

Lev, noticing Kenma's reaction, exchanged a concerned glance with Inuoka. His usual carefree expression sobered as he realized they might have taken the teasing too far.

"Hey, Kenma, sorry if we're being assholes," Lev said sincerely, his usual straightforward demeanor softened. "We're just stoked for you, you know?"

Kenma glanced at Lev, his expression softening slightly. The tension in his shoulders eased a bit as he realized his teammates' intentions were good, even if their execution was lacking.

"It's fine," he replied quietly, his tone more resigned now. "Just… dial it back a notch, okay?"

Yaku, ever perceptive, decided to steer the conversation back to the game. He leaned forward, his eyes never leaving the court as he spoke.

"Alright, you bunch of idiots, let's focus on supporting [Name]," he suggested calmly, his voice a reassuring presence amidst the playful banter. "Save the relationship gossip for later, yeah?"

As the match continued, Kenma gradually eased back into his usual focused state, his mind analyzing the game and your strategic plays. He appreciated his teammates' support and their willingness to lift his spirits, even when their teasing occasionally rubbed him the wrong way.

Throughout the rest of the match, the gymnasium echoed with cheers and encouragement from the Nekoma team. Kuroo's strategic insights, Yamamoto's enthusiastic shouts, Lev's amazed gasps, Yaku's approving nods, and Inuoka's excited commentary all blended together, creating a symphony of support for you on the court.

Kenma found himself swept up in the excitement, his usual reserved demeanor giving way to small smiles and quiet words of encouragement. He realized that despite their occasional teasing and crude language, he was lucky to have teammates who cared about him and respected his feelings, making the experience of being your boyfriend and a member of the Nekoma team all the more meaningful.

As the final whistle blew and you emerged victorious, Kenma felt a surge of pride. He stood up with the rest of his team, ready to congratulate you on your win, grateful for the unique and boisterous family he had found in Nekoma.

TESTURO KUROO

Amidst this chaos, Kuroo Tetsurou sat with his team, his sharp hazel eyes fixed on the court where you were playing. It was the first time he was watching you compete since you'd started dating, and the usually composed captain found himself on the edge of his seat.

Kuroo's wild black hair seemed even more disheveled than usual, a testament to the number of times he'd run his hands through it in excitement. His trademark smirk played on his lips, widening every time you made a particularly impressive play. The red jersey of Nekoma stretched across his broad shoulders as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

Beside him, Kenma Kozume sat hunched over his handheld game, the blue light illuminating his face. Despite his apparent disinterest, Kenma's cat-like eyes flicked up to the court periodically. During a lull in the game, he nudged Kuroo with his elbow.

"Your girlfriend's not half bad," Kenma muttered, thumbs still working the controls of his game. "Maybe she could teach you a thing or two about receiving."

Kuroo's grin widened, revealing teeth that glinted in the gymnasium's harsh lighting. "Oya? Sounds like someone's jealous. Don't worry, Kenma, you're still my favorite setter. No one sets a ball quite like you do."

Yamamoto Taketora, sitting on Kuroo's other side, was a stark contrast to Kenma's calm. The wing spiker was practically vibrating with excitement, his mohawk quivering with each enthusiastic movement. He leaned forward so far he was almost falling off his seat, eyes wide as saucers.

"Holy shit, Kuroo!" Yamamoto bellowed, his voice carrying over the crowd noise. "Did you see that spike? Your girl's a fucking monster! She just blew past their blockers like they were standing still!"

Kuroo chuckled, a deep, rich sound that rumbled in his chest. "Language, Yamamoto," he admonished without any real heat. "But yeah, she's pretty incredible, isn't she?" Pride colored his voice, his eyes softening as they followed your movements on the court.

Lev Haiba, all 194 centimeters of him folded awkwardly into the spectator seats, craned his neck to see over the heads in front of him. His green eyes were wide with wonder, a childlike enthusiasm painted across his features.

"Kuroo-san," Lev called out, voice filled with awe, "do you think she'd teach me how to spike like that? It was so cool! The ball just went 'whoosh' and then 'bam'!"

"In your dreams, string bean," Kuroo laughed, reaching over to ruffle Lev's silver hair. "You've got a long way to go before you're on her level. Maybe focus on receiving first, eh?"

Yaku Morisuke, the team's libero, sat with his arms crossed, a look of professional appreciation on his face. His sharp eyes hadn't left the court once, analyzing every move and play.

"Her receives are solid as fuck," Yaku commented, nodding approvingly. "She's got quick reflexes and good form. No wonder she caught your eye, Kuroo. You always did have a thing for skilled players."

"What can I say?" Kuroo shrugged, his casual tone belying the warmth in his eyes as he watched you seamlessly transition from defense to offense. "I've got excellent taste. In volleyball and in partners."

Inuoka Sou, unable to contain his excitement, was practically bouncing in his seat. His spiky hair seemed to stand even more on end as he turned to Kuroo, eyes shining with curiosity.

"Man, Kuroo-san, how'd you score such a badass girlfriend?" Inuoka asked, voice filled with a mixture of awe and mischief. "Did you use some of that sneaky captain charm? Or was it the hair?"

Kuroo raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning decidedly mischievous. The gymnasium lights caught the angles of his face, accentuating his sharp features. "Now, now, Inuoka. A gentleman never kisses and tells. But let's just say my killer looks and sparkling personality didn't hurt. Plus, I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be."

The team erupted in a mixture of groans and laughter. Even Kenma looked up from his game, rolling his eyes but unable to completely hide the small smile tugging at his lips.

"Your head's getting too big, Kuro," Kenma muttered, using the childhood nickname that only he was allowed to use. "It'll affect your jump serves. You won't be able to get off the ground."

"Aw, don't be like that, Kenma," Kuroo grinned, draping a long arm around his friend's shoulders and pulling him close despite Kenma's half-hearted protests. "You know you love me. Who else would set for you during our late-night practices?"

As the match progressed, the team's commentary became more animated. Kuroo found himself caught between watching you play and managing his rambunctious teammates, his captain instincts kicking in even off the court.

"Oi, Lev!" Kuroo barked, noticing the first-year's wandering attention. "Stop drooling and pay attention to her footwork. You might actually learn something useful for once."

Lev straightened up so quickly he almost toppled backwards, eyes wide. "Yes, Kuroo-san! I'll watch carefully!"

Yamamoto, never one to miss an opportunity for mischief, leaned in with a sly grin on his face. "So, captain," he drawled, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, "when are you gonna show us some of those moves off the court? You must have some pretty smooth lines to land a girl like that."

Kuroo's eyes narrowed playfully, a dangerous glint in them that made Yamamoto gulp. "Careful, Yamamoto. Don't make me assign you extra diving drills at practice. I'm sure Yaku would be more than happy to spike for you."

"Shit, sorry!" Yamamoto backpedaled quickly, hands up in surrender. "Just curious, you know? No harm meant!"

Yaku snorted from his seat, a smirk playing on his lips. "As if Kuroo needs any encouragement to show off. He's got an ego the size of Tokyo Tower."

"You wound me, Yaku," Kuroo placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt, his expression one of exaggerated pain. "I'm the very picture of modesty. A paragon of humility. A beacon of-"

"Bullshit," Kenma interrupted, not looking up from his game.

This elicited a chorus of disbelieving snorts and chuckles from the team. Even Kuroo couldn't keep a straight face, his laugh joining the others.

As the match neared its end, the energy in the gymnasium reached a fever pitch. The score was close, and every point was crucial. Kuroo found himself on his feet, previous cool demeanor forgotten as he shouted encouragement.

"Come on, babe! Show 'em what you've got!" he yelled, voice hoarse from cheering. His fists were clenched at his sides, body tense as if he could will you to victory through sheer force of will. "You've got this! One more point!"

When the final whistle blew, signaling your team's victory, Kuroo let out a whoop of joy that was nearly drowned out by the roar of the crowd. He turned to his team, grinning from ear to ear, pride and excitement radiating from every pore.

"That's my girl," he said, voice filled with a intoxicating mixture of pride, admiration, and a hint of playful challenge. "Think any of you can top that performance? Because that, gentlemen, is what we're aiming for."

Lev, ever eager to prove himself, jumped up so quickly he knocked Inuoka's drink over. "I'll train hard, Kuroo-san! I'll be just as amazing someday! Maybe even better!"

"That's the spirit, rookie," Kuroo laughed, slinging an arm around Lev's shoulders. Despite the height difference, Kuroo managed to make the gesture look effortlessly cool. "But for now, let's go congratulate the real star of the show. And remember, best behavior, cats. We're representing Nekoma."

As they made their way down to the court, pushing through the crowds of spectators, Kuroo felt a surge of affection - for you, for his sometimes annoying but always entertaining team, for this crazy, volleyball-filled life he led. He might give them hell during practice, but moments like these reminded him why he loved being Nekoma's captain.

"Alright, you bunch of alley cats," he called out to his team, voice carrying over the post-game chaos. "Let's show [Name] how Nekoma celebrates a victory! And if any of you embarrass me, I'll make sure you regret it at our next practice."

With a chorus of cheers, catcalls, and a few nervous gulps, the Nekoma team descended upon the court. They were ready to celebrate your win and, despite Kuroo's warning, no doubt find new and creative ways to tease their captain. But as Kuroo's eyes found you amidst the crowd, your face flushed with victory and eyes shining, he knew he wouldn't have it any other way. This was his team, this was his life, and he was loving every minute of it.

YAMAMOTO TAKETORA

But no one in the building was more fired up than Yamamoto Taketora. The wing spiker with the signature mohawk was practically vibrating in his seat, his eyes wild with enthusiasm as he watched you dominate the court.

"HELL YEAH!" Yamamoto roared, pumping his fist in the air as you scored another point. His voice, always loud, seemed to shake the very foundations of the gym. "That's my girlfriend out there! Did you see that spike? Holy shit!"

Kuroo, sitting next to him, winced and rubbed his ear. "Yamamoto, we're right here. No need to burst our eardrums."

But Yamamoto was too hyped to care. He leapt to his feet, nearly knocking over Kenma's handheld game in the process. "Sorry, cap! I can't help it! She's just so… so… AWESOME!"

Kenma sighed, rescuing his game console from Yamamoto's flailing arms. "We know, Tora. You've only said it about a hundred times in the last ten minutes."

"But Kenma!" Yamamoto whirled around, eyes blazing with passion. "Did you see how she received that serve? It was like… like… GWAH! And then BOOM!" His arms windmilled wildly, nearly taking out Lev in the process.

Lev ducked just in time, his long limbs tangling as he tried to avoid Yamamoto's enthusiastic gestures. "Yamamoto-senpai, please be careful! But you're right, [Name]-san is amazing! How did you get such a cool girlfriend?"

Yamamoto's chest puffed out with pride, a grin splitting his face from ear to ear. "Well, you see, Lev, it's all about confidence! You gotta be bold, you gotta be brave! You gotta-"

"You gotta stop scaring every girl in school with your loud voice and intense staring," Yaku interrupted dryly, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Yaku-san!" Yamamoto wailed, clutching his heart as if mortally wounded. "How could you say that? I'll have you know, [Name] loves my passion!"

Inuoka leaned forward, eyes wide with curiosity. "But seriously, Yamamoto-senpai, how did you and [Name]-san start dating? You used to get so nervous around girls!"

Yamamoto's face softened, a rare moment of calm settling over his usually energetic features. "Well, you see…" he began, but was cut off by a collective gasp from the crowd.

You had just pulled off an incredible save, diving to keep a seemingly impossible ball in play. Without missing a beat, Yamamoto was on his feet again, bellowing at the top of his lungs.

"THAT'S MY GIRL! DID YOU SEE THAT? DID YOU FREAKING SEE THAT?" He turned to his teammates, eyes wild with excitement. "Tell me you saw that! It was like… like… she flew! Like a tiger! A flying tiger!"

Kuroo chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "We saw it, Yamamoto. The whole gym saw it. And heard you."

But Yamamoto was beyond caring about volume control or public decorum. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "[NAME]! YOU'RE AMAZING! YOU'RE THE BEST! I LOVE YOU!"

His face immediately turned beet red as he realized what he'd just yelled in front of the entire gymnasium. The Nekoma team stared at him in shock for a moment before bursting into laughter and cheers.

"Wow, Yamamoto," Lev grinned, clapping him on the back. "That was so cool! So brave!"

Kenma, despite himself, cracked a small smile. "Well, that's one way to confess."

Yamamoto sank back into his seat, face burning but eyes still fixed on you. "I… I didn't mean to say that out loud," he mumbled, but there was no real regret in his voice.

Kuroo draped an arm around Yamamoto's shoulders, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Well, well, well. Our little Tora is all grown up. Confessing his love in front of the whole school. I'm so proud."

"Shut up," Yamamoto grumbled, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face. "It just… came out."

As the match neared its end, Yamamoto's energy seemed to only increase. He was on his feet for every point, cheering so loudly that people in the next prefecture could probably hear him. When the final whistle blew, signaling your team's victory, Yamamoto let out a roar that put his previous shouts to shame.

"WE WON! [NAME] WON! DID YOU SEE THAT? MY GIRLFRIEND IS THE BEST VOLLEYBALL PLAYER IN THE WORLD!"

Before anyone could stop him, Yamamoto was vaulting over the seats, pushing through the crowd to get to the court. The rest of the Nekoma team scrambled to follow, equal parts amused and mortified by their teammate's antics.

As they reached the edge of the court, Yamamoto skidded to a halt, suddenly nervous. You were there, flushed with victory, surrounded by your celebrating teammates. Yamamoto's usual bravado faltered for a moment as the reality of his public confession sank in.

Kuroo gave him a gentle push forward. "Go on, tiger. Your flying tiger is waiting."

Taking a deep breath, Yamamoto stepped onto the court. His face was a mixture of nervousness and unbridled joy as he approached you. The rest of the Nekoma team watched, grinning, as their boisterous wing spiker prepared to face his greatest challenge yet: talking to his girlfriend after accidentally confessing his love in front of the entire school.

As embarrassing as it was, Yamamoto wouldn't have had it any other way. This was who he was - loud, passionate, and utterly devoted. And as he saw the smile bloom on your face when you spotted him, he knew that's exactly why you loved him too.

@kiesbrainjuice do not copy or translate !

[p1hypen]

TERRIBLE TWOS — P. SUNGHOON

SYNOPSIS! A rash decision on your end causes you and Sunghoon to break up. What you think is for the best turns out to be the complete opposite, actually. Cue two years later when a random encounter with your ex forces you to revisit past feelings that has never quite fully departed from either of you. PAIRING! Chairman!Sunghoon x Fem!Reader WC! 11.4k (Got carried away)

GENRE/CW! Exes getting back together, fluff, slight angst if you squint, smut (fingering, brief mentions of fem oral receiving, sunghoon has a 7 inch cock; i headcanon that, unprotected sex, missionary, creampie, lots of tongue kissing), swearing, reader is in denial just a tad bit, ft. non-idol!yunjin, reader is a struggling fine arts major, etc. MDNI

A/N: originally, i intended for this to be a simple one shot but it somehow turned out to be greater than that in the end lol. this was also my first attempt at writing smut; i've always wanted to try it but damn is it kinda hard. i feel like the title doesn't match or capture the story as good but whatever-- it used to be called 'seasons,' yet that didn't make sense either so... terrible twos it is! i hope you enjoy <3

“Y/n?” 

A trace of uncertainty laces the man's voice, his mind racing with the possibility that he might have mistaken a stranger for someone from his past. Internally, he winces at the prospect of this awkward mix-up, dreading such an encounter with a random person. He clings to the hope that his intuition proves accurate.

Could it really be her? Amid the bustling crowd, she always managed to stand out, an unmistakable aura surrounding her. Her presence eclipsed even the most vibrant of settings, radiating a unique energy that outshone a field of flowers.

When he tentatively calls out her name in a hushed tone, she spins around on her heel, and for an ephemeral moment, Sunghoon feels as though he's stepped into a scene from a classic romance film.

Time stills and so does he. 

Each of your movements steals his breath away. The way your hair dances in harmony with the wind, and how your eyelashes cast the most delicate shadow upon your high cheekbones. Your gradual unveiling leaves him struggling to swallow past an inexplicable lump in his throat. 

Sunghoon notices the moment your eyes widen. Behind those enchanting orbs, he discerns a flicker of nostalgia and a touch of melancholy. During your time together, he had the uncanny ability to read those emotions hidden within the depths of your eyes.

“Sunghoon…” You say no louder than a mere whisper that could easily get lost in the summer’s wind that passes through the both of you. 

Your heart throbs in your chest. The biological response is far too overwhelming that you can feel your stomach tying itself in double knots. You think you might need to be pointed to the nearest bathroom so you can barf up the swarm of butterflies that disturb your system. No doubt, does crossing paths with an ex whom you share a long history with manage to do that to you. 

“H-how are you?” You’re the first to strike up a conversation despite that being Sunghoon’s unspoken responsibility. 

How am I? Sunghoon has to brace himself to collect his messy thoughts. 

“I’m pretty good, and yourself?”

His response is curt and short. In any other setting, he would have elaborated on his answer but he wasn’t sure how much information was too much to reveal to an ex regarding the state of his well-being. You nod at his words, not really expecting much nor having high hopes that he would give you more to work with in this conversation of playing catch-up between an ex. 

See, your relationship ended amicably, with both of you acknowledging that the spark kindled between you two had faded out. With your mind elsewhere, too focused on your academics (so you like to say), and Sunghoon preparing to inherit his family’s business, there was little room for romance in either of your daily routines. Your typical weekend dates were swapped out for meetings with major corporations and other soon-to-be-chairman-related activities so that he could fully understand what the rest of his future held for him. 

Even though you missed having your boyfriend's undivided attention, you refused to act as a temporary roadblock that prevented him from making significant progress. Despite your heart and brain being at war with each other, you made the conscious decision to slowly back down from being his lover and tucked your face in the pages of your academic textbooks.

With Sunghoon too busy to even acknowledge that his girlfriend was distancing herself from him, you were the first to come forward, bearing the news that breaking up would be the optimal solution to your and his fading presence in one another’s lives. 

That night when you bid goodbye, he felt half his heart shatter inside of him. Little did you know that you carried the other part wherever you went, but now that you were no longer capable of sheltering that missing piece, it almost made him want to die inside more than just a tad bit— a lot, actually.

He pretended to play it cool as your back turned to him and he watched you retreat to your car, feeling both helpless and defeated. With an unflinching countenance, a tightly clenched jaw, and fingers gripped at his sides, Sunghoon longed for his feet to have chased after you, preventing your departure from his life. He yearned to undo whatever had driven you away, to rewrite his mistakes and reshape your shared history.

Sadly, not even the first star in the sky he saw at night could grant him something as demanding as that.

On the contrary, had those things happened, he wouldn’t be here today on a Thursday afternoon rekindling a connection that got tossed up in the air and fell through his fingertips.

“I—“ Before you get a chance to deliver your sentence Sunghoon’s hold on your arm prompts him to draw you to his chest. 

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat, eyes simultaneously widening for the second time thanks to a certain ex. You look up at the taller one with crinkled brows. A mixture of confusion and a looming feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach that hasn’t quite left, tugging at your heartstrings. His intoxicating scent of Dior Sauvage is all too overwhelming for your nose to take in. You swear your head could start spinning any minute now. 

He’s so close to you. You’re so close to him. If someone were to come by and accidentally bump into you, you would be pressed up against his chest, breaking what limited distance is keeping you two apart. 

A bike rider disrupting pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk whizzes by, obnoxiously ringing the bell attached to their handlebar as if they aren’t to be blamed for riding on the concrete pavement, and it’s only then do you realize that Sunghoon was protecting you from getting hit. His body relaxes once he declares that it’s safe for you to comfortably stand in the open from any oncoming obstructions. 

“Sorry… acted on impulse.” His grasp on you immediately retreats to the inside of his pant pockets and you swear that his touch leaves a ghosting sensation on your skin. 

Sunghoon refuses to meet your lingering gaze, eyes averting to some random couple walking their dog across the street from where the two of you are standing. It’s almost funny how he fully believed two years ago that one day both of you would be exactly like that: dog owners who take their beloved fur baby on walks together and enjoy the simplicity of the little things that a relationship has to offer. 

“It’s okay, thank you,” You murmur, unsure of where things should go from here. 

A beat of silence comes and goes before Sunghoon has the chance to take the initiative to prove he’s different from his past self. 

The past self you witnessed throughout the duration of your shared romanticism. The past self who failed to convince you to stay because he never wanted you to leave his side. What he wanted was to work things out and to understand what he could do to change and make things better for the two of you.

Even if that meant you breaking up with him first to realize this.

“Listen, why don’t we…” He suddenly starts. Sunghoon analyzes your face and when your features evidently show that you’re all ears for what he has to say, he takes a deep breath to compose himself. “Get dinner. Together.“ 

Although the question comes out more like a demand rather than a request, you’re slightly taken aback because you were almost certain Sunghoon probably resents you for the breakup— at least that’s what you tell yourself— and that he doesn’t want any business involving you entering his life for a repeat performance. The only different thing is that you’re his ex.

Can you blame him? It was so sudden.

The concealed hurt he tried to mask but failed to do so when you told him you wanted to end things, hoping it’d be left on good terms, rambling about how much you do and will continue to care for him no matter what he does in life or who he chooses to love after you. It seems you did more talking than he got the chance to, and Sunghoon wasn’t sure if you had this all planned leading up to that moment, or if he should’ve seen it coming. 

Whatever it was, Sunghoon could never hate or repent you, but you’re no telepathic mind-reader and wouldn’t know how he feels about you now unless you asked. 

Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth as you ponder the idea of sitting in a fancy restaurant with Sunghoon and sharing a long conversation over an expensive meal that is highly overpriced for its ridiculously small portions. 

“On one condition,” You quip. Sunghoon gestures for you to keep going and you clear your throat. “No five-star Michelin places, okay? I just want a simple dinner to make up for lost time.” 

The older male chuckles, nodding his head sensibly. If there’s one thing Sunghoon learned about you is that you were never hard to please and preferred the opposite of a high-end luxury lifestyle that he naturally grew up with. 

“Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 8, how’s that sound?” 

“That’s perfect but um—“ you purse your lips. “Do you… Do you still remember where I live?” 

“Of course. It would take a lot more than time and distance apart from each other, for me to forget your every being.”

Sunghoon leans in to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The underlying intimacy hiding beneath his actions has you contemplating what the course of your relationship would have looked like for the two of you, had you not broken up with a man as sweet and thoughtful as him.

Was calling it quits between you two a mistake? Should you have stuck it out just a little longer? 

You can only shove those thoughts to the farthest point in the back of your mind and recenter your focus to the handsome ravenette. 

Sunghoon, sporting a warm grin that gradually grows into a pearly white showcase of his perfect teeth and adorable canines, makes it worth marveling if second chances are a thing that people still stand by. 

The next evening, Sunghoon unexpectedly arrived at your front door 20 minutes ahead of your readiness. While you were trying to situate yourself into your cami dress that paired well with the current season, a knocking sound coming from the entrance to your studio unit startled you in its wake. You tapped on the screen of your phone to check the time and crinkled your nose when the numbers staring back at you read 7:40. 

Sunghoon’s habit of arriving for an occasion earlier than expected was not unusual for his character. The taller's mannerisms crept into other facets of his social life after years of being trained to believe that "early is on time" and "on time is late." However, 20 minutes ahead of schedule was definitely new to you, and part of you can’t help but think if this is stemming from anxiety or if that’s just you projecting your nerves onto his much early arrival. 

“Just a sec!” You struggled to reach for the zipper to your dress, stress-sweating due to the pressure of having to rush through the rest of your routine.

After what felt like a millennia you finally managed to seal yourself shut into your attire and scurried to the front door where poor Sunghoon was waiting for you to answer.

“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t get to the zipper of my dress and I don’t think me flashing you or my neighbors in semi-public is socially acceptable.” You awkwardly laugh, strands of hair sticking to the back of your neck and forehead from the accumulated sweat you managed to produce. 

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head at your guilty tendency to overshare too much information for the dramatics.

“No worries. I know I showed up earlier than expected. Don’t worry about me, do what you need to do.” He smiles softly and for a second it almost slips your mind that you’re no longer romantically involved with each other. 

Oh, how you wish you could leap at him and smother the dashing man with kisses all over his Greek god-like, beautiful face…

“Here,” The taller unveils a bouquet of flowers that he attempted (underline, attempted) to hide behind his back. In reality, you could already see bits of it peeking out but chose to play coy about the item he was holding back from giving you. 

You fawn at the striking arrangement of tulips that come in different shades of the prettiest of pinks. Tulips. Of course, he would remember that those are your favorite. His words from yesterday ring in your ears, and believing them, you truly start to confide that Sunghoon could never boot you out of his memory as easy as a snap of his fingers.

“The prettiest bunch of flowers for the prettiest girl.” Sunghoon cautiously says, unsure if that would be stepping a line. To be fair, there isn’t an official handbook on what you should or shouldn’t say to an ex— except for some of the more common phrases; whatever that may be.

You let out a lighthearted laugh at the bold, yet cheesy, compliment and invited Sunghoon into the safe haven of your apartment, ignoring the way your heart practically skipped a beat when he said that. 

He’s been here on plentiful occasions so he’s really no stranger to the arrangement of your flat and could probably draw out an entire floor plan if he wanted to. At one point he almost committed to the thought of moving in with you, but you were a firm believer that it would be best if he stuck to the minimalist mansion he decorated himself; it was passed down to him from none other than his father. Needless to say, Sunghoon was a pouty puppy that day.

“I’m almost ready I promise.” You say. “I just need to add some finishing touches and then I’m all yours for the night.” Immediately your hands fly to your mouth when realization dawns on you about the delivery of your words. 

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, and luckily, you miss the faint smirk that tugs at the corner of his plump lips teasingly.

“You know what I mean!” You panic, waving off the metaphorical atmosphere that surrounds both of you.

You excuse yourself and escape to your room as the tips of your ears start to flush with embarrassment.

Once the door leading to your bedroom shuts behind you with a mellow thud, your back presses up against the surface of the entryway. A loud sigh that you weren't even aware you were repressing since Sunghoon arrived breaks out past your tinted lips. With your mind a foggy mess and your heart threatening to leap right out of your chest, you’re under the impression that you resemble the stereotypical anime school girl the way your entire demeanor changes when you’re around him. 

But that’s the thing.

It’s only Sunghoon. 

It’s just Sunghoon.

So what if you guys dated in high school and partially during college? So what if he was the first and only guy you’ve been with, and even though you have no one to compare him to, he would still be the best ex you could ever have? So what if you regret breaking up with him because you got ahead of yourself and refused to be transparent with him? 

So what if you want him back…

You pat both sides of your cheeks to wake yourself from a philosophical dilemma. you refuse to go down a rabbit hole of emotions especially when you’re about to go out to dinner. 

You shuffle through your wardrobe in search of a certain pair of Converse that a special someone gave to you as a birthday gift. When you find it neatly stored away in its original packaging and the box that it came in you’re almost too eager to slip your feet into the collar of the Chuck Taylor’s.

You halt in your steps when you reach your vanity and grab your everyday bottle of perfume, spritzing one pump, then two, then three, and four more of the floral scent, that you’re showering yourself in it at this point.

When you've deemed that you’re completely ready and satisfied with your appearance for the evening, you exit the inviting comfort of your cozy chambers. Sunghoon’s back is facing you as you ascend into the living room. You can’t make out much of what he’s doing and he’s seemingly too preoccupied to notice your footsteps stalk across the wooden paneling. His neck is craned downward looking at something on the decorative table where you have a neat arrangement of framed pictures. 

“You still have this?” He turns around revealing the photograph that he was referring to, now in his possession. There’s a distant glimmer of emotion that you can’t quite make out peeking around the curves of his irises. 

You let out a resigned sigh. 

You’ve been caught red-handed for leaving a single trace of the past out in the open. 

Of all the furniture and miscellaneous objects that collect dust on different surfaces in your flat, Sunghoon chose to go for the photograph of you and him standing under a cherry blossom tree in Ilsan Park. Your arm was hooked around his waist and his was wrapped around your shoulder. The brightest of smiles stretched across your faces as petals danced around you. It was the perfect moment captured in stillness and you wish you could leap through pictures to relive that special day. A distant memory that feels like it happened not too long ago.

“I couldn’t get rid of it. It’s— That’s one of my favorite pictures of us.” You simply explain. 

It was true, because out of all of the selfies, candid photos, and other pictures you shared together with Sunghoon, your date to Ilsan Park remained your number one core memory as a couple. 

You watch intently as Sunghoon places the photo back where it originally belonged on the console.

“I think that’s one of my favorites, too.” He says as a matter of fact. “That or the one where we went to Lotte World and wore matching uniforms together.” The taller laughs.

You giggled, the recollection of your amusement park date flashing across your mind. You dragged him to go on each and every attraction with you as he stumbled in your tracks, struggling to keep up with your social battery. You felt like two high schoolers in love at the ripe age of 20 because being with Sunghoon gave you the impression that you were your 15-year-old self again. 

“I like that one as well! I thought I looked pretty cute in that uniform.” You grin sheepishly.

Sunghoon chuckles and it causes you to whip your head to survey him. His eyes crinkle before they’re no longer crescent and back to their original doe-eyed shape. 

“You’re still cute, y’know that?” 

The comment sends your heart ablaze along with the blood that rushes to the surface of your cheeks. You can only hope that the thin layer of makeup and blush you applied is strong enough to camouflage the effect that sunghoon has on you. It’s no secret that he was always a smooth talker and still is. It makes you wonder if he’s ever used that flirtatious skill on other women he’s come across after you— or if he has. 

You tut your tongue at him and reach for your crossbody purse draped on the couch that you lazily tossed aside yesterday after coming home. 

“Ready, m’lady?” Sunghoon twists the knob and pushes the front door open, supporting the weight with his broad frame to keep it from closing in on you two when you exit. 

“Wait!” You pip, halting in your steps. You briskly retreat to your room and grab the bouquet of tulips you left on the side table next to your bed. 

You scurry over to Sunghoon, cradling the arrangement of florals like it was your baby. The haired boy opens his mouth to say something but you’re too fast to retort, 

“I wanna show it off. They’re too pretty to be left at home.” 

He nods and motions his hand for you to leave the unit first. The taller gives himself a mental pat on the back for inquiring in a floral shop before coming to retrieve you for dinner.

Tulips are a girl’s best friend, after all. For you, at least.

Coincidentally dinner happens to occur at the one restaurant you frequently visited when you and Sunghoon were dating. It was a simple ma and pa spot only locals in the area knew of. They were popularly known for their cold noodles and ginseng chicken soup. You like to think of it as a secret only two of you know about and continue to gatekeep it from your friends or families from ever coming across of it. 

The owners grew familiar with both of you through your frequent visits and friendly conversations. your rapport with them resulted in a warm welcome every time you returned, often accompanied by a generous discount as a token of their appreciation. Since your last visit to their restaurant, a while has gone by, and you both have been overdue to make an appearance at the restaurant.

“Aigoo, Sunghoon-ah, it’s been so long!” Mrs. Kim exclaims, wearing the biggest and brightest smile that brings out the crinkles in her complexion when she notices two familiar faces. “And Y/n, it’s good to see you too!” She turns to you with the same mien still permanently plastered on her face. 

You bow your head. Her contagious smile has you mirroring her grin. 

“Come, come, sit.” She waves her hand for the two of you to follow in her trail as she leads both of you to your— undesignated but designated— table that you and Sunghoon would constantly sit at.

Before you even have a chance to pull out your chair, Sunghoon beats you to it with surprising swiftness. The aged wood scrapes gently against the floor as he courteously pulls the chair back for you. A warm smile tugs at your lips as you appreciate this chivalrous gesture, unable to contain a soft giggle of delight. 

Mrs. Kim watches the interaction between the two of you and smirks, completely out of the loop that you have broken up; still under the assumption that you’re both dating to this day. Who could blame her when in her eyes you were the perfect missing piece for one another in this world like you were made for each other from the start. 

“The usual?” She asks despite already knowing the answer to her question. 

“Yes please,” Sunghoon nods.

He sits after folding his blazer in half so that it can rest neatly on the chair's backrest. To add some fuel to the flame, he unbuttons the cuffs to his long sleeves and rolls them past his forearms so that they stop an inch below his elbows. The expensive watch that rests snugly on his wrist glistens, almost blinding you. You’re reminded that the man sitting across from you is responsible for an entire company under his name and capable of powerful things.

You gulp. You feel like you’re watching something you shouldn’t be and instead take an interest in the condiments that are pushed to the side of your table. 

Soy sauce, vinegar, napkins… 

When you think that you’re ready to re-center your attention onto Sunghoon once your racing heart has calmed down from its high, the taller has his eyes closed as he combs his fingers through his hair. His lips are parted ever so slightly and there’s a shine to his plush tiers.

He has to be doing this on purpose now.

You watch the way his Adam apple bobs when he swallows and you swear it should be a sin to look this effortlessly good in warm overhead lighting. 

You huff, a little too audibly for the male across from you to hear and his doe eyes flutter open. The sudden eye contact catches you off guard and you’re struggling to maintain yourself from the tension your mind is projecting. You shift around in your chair trying to find a more comfortable position.

This is going to be a long dinner.

After Mrs. Kim returned with your delectable dishes, the food vanished quickly as you guys delved into stories and shared the exciting highlights of your respective journeys. You and Sunghoon spent the rest of your meal at the table reminiscing about the past two years including the many ups and downs you’ve dealt with.

You learned that a month after your breakup, Sunghoon’s father officially stepped down, handing over the reins of the company to his son as the new successor. The ravenette confided in you, revealing that even though he had been groomed for this role his whole life, the transition wasn't as smooth as he had envisioned. The weight of responsibility felt overwhelming. Taking charge of a major company brought with it a level of pressure he had never experienced before. The expectations were high, both from the company's board and the employees who had known him since he was young.

As he grappled with the complexities of his new position, Sunghoon couldn't help but reminisce about a simpler life. He missed the carefree moments he used to share with you, the laughter, and the ease of his unannounced visits when he would turn up at your door with snacks he bought from the corner store and canned beer. 

Eventually his determination and drive to persevere kept him standing strong in the face of these obstacles. With his family behind him, a supportive workforce, and you in the back of his mind, he knew he had people to look back on and make them proud. 

You praised the older for his character development, gushing at his transition from uncertainty to confidence, while sympathizing with the initial troubles he first started off with. Being a chairman at his age is bound to weigh heavily on his mental and emotional health, and you can’t help but wish that you had stayed by his side through it all in order to be that support pillar he needed at immediacy.

“So, what about you? I didn’t really get to hear your answer yesterday.” Sunghoon asks.

You blinked. “Me? Well, uhm…” 

A bubble of insecurity creeps into your stomach. Your mind races through a mental checklist of your own achievements, or rather, the lack thereof, especially when compared to Sunghoon’s impressive journey. While your lives have taken very drastically different paths, you can’t shake the feeling that at the end of the day, the two of you are worlds apart from each other. He’s the chairman of a highly respected company. And you? You’re just a college graduate with a bachelor’s degree in fine arts. A pursuit that feels miles away from Sunghoon’s milestones. 

During the period that he was absent from your everyday life, all you managed to build was your art portfolio, which you eagerly sent to numerous galleries in a desperate bid to gain recognition as a struggling artist. Rejection letters became an all too familiar sight, each offering the same hollow praise— impressed but not interested. Those were dark times, where self-doubt loomed large.

Thankfully, your situation started to improve when you summoned the courage to step out of your comfort zone. You took to social media, opening art accounts on Instagram and Twitter, and sharing your artistic odyssey on TikTok. Yunjin, one of your closest friends and best friend since middle school, commissioned you to paint a mural inside a cafe she was working at. “I begged my boss for this to happen!” She said enthusiastically over the phone the night she asked you for the favor. Everything to you was a leap of faith, a glimmer of hope that prompted you to fully believe in the light at the end of every tunnel. 

In spite of your situation turning out for the better, it was impossible to ignore the inescapable sense of solitude and loneliness that clung to you like a shadow. It followed you everywhere you went. A mental reminder that, no matter how bright life was starting to seem, you still felt trapped and not completely content with yourself.

You convey these exact thoughts and feelings to Sunghoon in a messy ramble, hoping that this unintentional therapy session you’ve turned dinner into won’t scare him off. You can only hope that you’re not ruining the evening with a sob story of another art kid struggling to make a name for themselves in a society, where choosing art as a career path is at a greater disadvantage in comparison to your stronger counterparts. 

When you find yourself coming to the end of your rant, a wave of silence washes over the table, and you grab the nearest cup of water to gulp from. Ignoring the condensation that sweats around the glass and soils your palms. Your eyes look everywhere, purposefully avoiding Sunghoon and the tragic visage he’s probably giving you right about now.

“Y/n, look at me.” 

You raise your head, complying to his soft demand. 

“I’m proud of you,” he begins, and in that instant, a surge of emotion that has been suppressed for far too long wells up within you. “It takes a lot of courage and willpower to continue to follow a path you’re uncertain of.” The comment makes Sunghoon chuckle dryly, closely reminded of himself, shaking his head. “But look at you, you’re doing so great.”

The warmth in his voice, the sincerity in his eyes— they combine like a gentle storm, and suddenly, tears brim your eyes, begging to spill over. Your vision is splotchy and you refuse to blink, save for ruining your mascara. You weren’t planning on being an emotional wreck tonight, especially over dinner with your ex.

“I understand how hard it must have been dealing with those struggles alone, and I wish I was there by your side to help support you when it happened.” Sunghoon continues. He pauses to take in a breath before resuming, “But I’m here now… I’m not going anywhere, and if you’d let me— I want back into your life again, Y/n.”

A solitary tear breaks free, followed by another, and then another, until suddenly your eyes unleash a torrent of waterworks like a relentless downpour from a stormy sky. You hide your face in a handful of napkins you hastily grabbed, unaware that Sunghoon got up to move from his seat and slipped into the chair next to yours. His touch catches you off guard but you immediately relax as he guides you into his embrace, allowing you to hide yourself in his arms; your face tucked away in his chest. He caresses your hair, his slender fingers thread through your styled locks as he lulls you to comfort from your shaken state.

The two of you stay rooted in that position until you confidently and mentally reassure yourself that you are okay; you’re going to be okay. Your breathing has calmed down from its high and returned to a normal, healthy rate as your tears subsided and are non-existent.

No longer conscious of your makeup— a matter far from substantial to care for anymore— you wipe away the mess around your eyes. Black clumps of mascara and some concealer transfer onto the napkin. Seeing the stains garner a weak laugh to emit from you. Sunghoon cranes his neck to survey what you’ve become engrossed with. He sees the ruined makeup and laughs lightly into your hair. 

You’re thankful that there aren’t many customers dining in tonight and that it’s just you, Sunghoon, and three other parties who are far too busy drinking, conversing, and laughing amongst themselves to acknowledge the young couple tucked away in the corner.

Mrs. Kim leads both you and Sunghoon out of the restaurant with a warmth akin to a grandmother bidding her grandchildren farewell, her heartfelt wish for your safe return home evident in her loving smile.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Kim. Thank you, again, for another delicious dinner.” Sunghoon bows at a 90-degree angle and the formality stirs a boisterous laugh from the frail old lady. You mimic his actions, also expressing your gratitude for the lovely meal and free dessert she served to you guys ‘on the house.’ 

“When you guys come back I better see a wedding ring on her finger, Sunghoon-ah.” Mrs. Kim scolds lightly. You almost choke on your own saliva at the remark, coughing awkwardly to cover up your bewilderment. Sunghoon does his best to maintain his composure for the sake of the elder’s oblivion.

“You guys disappear for two years and still no diamond in sight. I was hoping some big change happened!” She clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth, crossing her arms.

Sunghoon dips his head again in an apologetic manner. “You and Mr. Kim will be the first people we come to with a wedding invitation.” 

You whack the taller’s arm giving him a what-the-fuck-are-you-talking-about look, eyebrows scrunched with perplexity. The last thing you want is to continue to feed into Mrs. Kim’s false reality that the two of you are still a couple. Who’s to say that Sunghoon isn’t actually on the same page as you and everything is just a facade? I mean, sure, he’s been flirty here and there, bought you flowers, comforted you at dinner, and practically asked you to take him back… 

Your trust in Sunghoon has clearly waned, a result of your fluctuating self-confidence that leads you to confide in the pessimistic "what ifs." Your clouded judgment and self-doubt gnaw at your thoughts, casting doubt on the possibility of a reunion between the two of you. 

Sunghoon ignores the daggers slicing at the left side of his face and the buzzing pain you inflicted on him from the harsh impact of your hand. His digits dig gently into your side, drawing you closer to him. You stumble ever so slightly and flash an unconvincing awkward smile to the old lady.

You situate yourselves into the driver and passenger seats of his Hyundai Ioniq. You’re quiet when you pull the seat belt over your upper half, and for the first 10 minutes, not a single word was uttered from either you or the male sitting behind the wheel. Your mind loiters as you watch the building lights illuminating the dark troposphere of Seoul whizz by at 2x speed.

You and Mr. Kim will be the first people we come to with a wedding invitation.

Yeah right… You almost roll your eyes but catch yourself prolonging the idea of a hypothetical engagement and wedding ceremony with Sunghoon as your groom. 

Would he have gone down on one knee to propose to you had both of you remained lovers? 

You shake the contemplation loose from your prefrontal cortex. 

“Is it okay if I roll the window down?” You’re the first to break the ice. Sunghoon nods, his attention still focused on the road in front of him. Without looking, his fingers find the car’s air-con button to turn it off and he gives you the ‘go’ to proceed with your desire. 

The tempered glass descends and you’re immediately greeted with the beating rush of the summertime air. You giggle and rest your arms on the weatherstrip trimming of the Hyundai, your head poking out like an excited dog who’s riding in the car with its tongue hanging from its mouth. You close your eyes, taking in the wind that messes with your hair and brushes past your skin. It’s enough to transcend you into a different headspace, almost forgetting that you’re in a moving vehicle and not on some speedboat skidding across the water in Europe.

Sunghoon looks your way, unable to suppress the natural smile that lights up his face whenever he sees you. You truly are a surge of energy he needs when he wants to uplift himself if he’s feeling down. You’re his happy pill— so much so, that he wishes he could keep a chibi version of you for him to carry in the pocket square of his suits and let you rome on the wooden surface of his office desk to help him get through the work day. It’s silly and love-sickening, but Sunghoon only knows how to act a fool with you around him. 

His fingers drum against the padding of the steering wheel, waking you from your daydream. You hadn’t realized that you’ve already made it back to the city and are soon approaching your apartment complex. Your neighborhood is only a couple of turns away from your current destination as the two of you sit at a red light. You roll the window up, at least it was fun for the duration it endured. 

When he pulls up on the side of the street in front of your building, you try to find some lame excuse to stay with him for another minute longer, not wanting to say goodnight to him. You’re scared that this evening will be a one-off event and you'll return to your old ways, enveloped once more in the arms of self-isolation that consumes you completely.

Your grip on the door handle tightens. 

“Sunghoon,” you shift your view in his direction. “You don’t mind walking me to my front door, do you?” 

The male smiles with his eyes.

“Who am I to not accompany a lady when needed.” 

Sunghoon makes quick work to unbuckle himself from the driver’s seat and rounds the front of the car to open the door for you. He holds out his hand for you to take, which you generously do so, and grants him the unspoken permission to whisk you away into the levels of your residential building. 

The elevator ride is a close resemblance to the trip back to your place, however, there’s a contrasting atmosphere waiting to burst like a champagne bottle and spill over. Sunghoon’s holding your hand the entire way and you don’t resist the notion. 

When you approach your unit at the end of the hall, you fish for your keys that are sitting at the bottom of your bag. Sunghoon’s hand slips out of your grasp and you almost whine at the loss of his warmth and touch, but you know he’s only doing it for you to use both free hands to ultimately unlock your door. The click! of the lock coming from the other side is an indication that you can push past the door once the knob is turned.

You stand there, hesitant to enter your own home. 

“I guess— this is it?” You murmur tentatively to yourself and the taller. You rock on your heels purposefully stalling time as you force both him and yourself to stare a little longer at the iron numbers detailing your front door. 

You let out a rigged breath.

“Tonight was great. The longest I’ve been out of the house in a month, really.” You cringe pathetically at the confession knowing that a month ago Yunjin was the one who pulled you out of bed to get some fresh air and sunlight because you were hiding away like a vampire. "Thank you... Sunghoon, for treating me to dinner and spending the evening with me..."

He remains stoic and unusually quiet, making it challenging to decipher what he’s thinking or feeling. You wish you could enter his mind to get a glimpse of how his brain functions. You’d hate to seem pitiful for hoping that his advances from today were, if at all, genuine.

If what he said at dinner was coming from the heart.

As you contemplate what might be your last encounter with your 'the one who got away,’ Sunghoon astounds you with yet another trick up his sleeve, when he secures your wrist in his delicate grasp. Forever one step ahead of you, his lips collide with yours in a passionate fervent. The only appropriate reaction that you can give him in response is to return the kiss with just as much fervor. The strap to your purse slides off your shoulders and lands below you with a little thud thanks to Sunghoon’s antsy hands pushing it out of the way.

He cages you against the surface of the door, your back bumping into it when he forces the distance between your bodies to dissipate. Bothered by the tiny gap that prevents you from being as close as you possibly can to him. The only active barrier is now the layer of clothing he’s wearing and the tiny dress that nearly clings to your every curve. He can’t wait to impatiently rip you out of it and slip in a “I’ll buy you a new one, princess.”

Your hands find sanctuary in his soft hair. How you missed tugging at their roots when he’d go down on you in bed, on the kitchen counter, and in the shower with your one leg supporting your entire weight as Sunghoon made the other side dangle over his shoulder. Those positions are tempting, and biologically the flashbacks of your sexual activity with the male feed into the expansion of your slick that gradually soils your panties.  

You squeeze your thighs together. The pressure of your inner fat is an empty feeling of pleasure that you wish Sunghoon could replace with his tongue, fingers, cock, or all three one at a time. The male notices this cry-for-help and trails his right hand down the sides of your waist. He stops at the lace hemming of the cami dress, bunching the material to provide easy access to your mid-thigh. His fingers dance on your skin, traveling upward ever so slowly in an antagonizing fashion that almost infuriates you for his teasing manner in the heat of the moment. 

Sunghoon reluctantly breaks the kiss. The evidence of your already smudged matte lipstick has left a faint trace on his plump tiers. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, mouth ready to latch onto the sensitive area he knows best that will cloud every crevice of your mind with nothing but want and lust. At the end of this night, all that you will know is how to be his obedient cocksleeve like the good girl he’s conditioned you into.

The sound of someone clearing their throat on the opposite end of your apartment’s hallway is akin to a record player scratch. You’re grateful that the construction workers, or whoever built this place, designed the structure of your building to be a certain way so that the split-off point from the elevator wasn’t a simple corridor style where you could see both fire exits at each side. Instead, it was more so a wide V-shape. 

In other words, no one really caught you and Sunghoon in semi-public eating one another’s faces. 

You stop to share a quiet laugh with Sunghoon and ultimately enter the safe space of your flat, out of your neighbors point of view where they could have had a free, front-row seat to some juicy content. The door closes behind you, you can barely get out of your shoes and make it past the front step leading to your living room when Sunghoon’s haste to have you underneath the sheets with him in your bed has you stumbling backward. He catches you before you can register that you would have fallen onto your ass against the hardwood. His lips serve him well, contributing to the situation as a distraction that redirects your every inner thought bubble. 

Sunghoon casually kicks off his shoes, adding them to the haphazard pile alongside yours— the least of his concerns at the moment.

The kiss from outside repeats itself, and this time, Sunghoon can contently resume what he intended to do had another tenant not interrupted the mood. But the voyeurism exploration kink in him would have liked either sequence of events. 

His tongue traces a wet stripe up your neck, sending a shiver cascading down your spine. You dully bite down on your bottom lip, trying to stifle the whimper that is sanctioned at the back of your throat, trapped by a surge of lust and anticipation. Sunghoon’s mouth ghosts over the shell of your ear, and his hot breath tickles. 

“I wanna hear you, baby.” He slurs. “Don’t be shy on me now.” 

Sunghoon’s lips sheathe that sensitive spot on your neck, causing you to gasp. Your shoulders tense at the foreign feeling of his mouth on your body, and you’ve forgotten how good it was to receive a hickey. You relax under his touch when he gives the soft fat of your waist a reassuring squeeze.

His canines graze your skin while he sucks on the same patch, switching interchangeably to lap his tongue at the area when he begins to see a blossom of red and purple hues mix together, creating the prettiest bruise that would surely take more than a couple of days to fully heal. You groan when his teeth apply the right amount of force onto your flesh, leaving indents in their wake. His perverted mind relishes in the fact that only he is capable of marking you in ways that no other man could ever come close to.

He steps back to fully appreciate his canvas, that is you, and the absolute masterpiece that you are to him.

He leans in, pressing another kiss to your lips, this time with a gentler, more tender spirit, devoid of any sloppy motions. It’s delicate, a striking contrast to the heated lip-locking session the two of you were entranced with just moments ago on the other side of your apartment door. His larger palms cup your face as the pads of his thumbs caress the apples of your cheeks, making you feel loved and cared for.

Sunghoon lures your tongue into his mouth, clamping his lips around the muscle. He suckles at it, eliciting the cutest whimpers that he missed hearing from you since you’ve been gone. 

“Hnngh… Hah,” you pry yourself off of him, a string of your shared saliva connects the two of your equally moist lips. 

Your puffy lips shimmer in the moonlight streaming into your livingroom, as if the moon itself decided to play a starring role tonight. You squeeze his bicep, noticing that the muscle has doubled in size since you last touched it. You peer up at the taller through your eyelashes and Sunghoon has to conceal his primal instincts from fucking your throat with his raging hard-on. 

Your fingers graze the fabric of his long-sleeve collar, tracing delicate patterns across the black tie donned around his neck. Something about being able to witness a man up close in a suit never failed to provoke a flood of arousal from overwhelming your erogenous zone. Specifically, Sunghoon. It’s a shame— not really— that it eventually has to come off. With a deft touch, you begin to unravel the four-in-hand knot, a testament to Sunghoon’s meticulous self-preparation. The silk unravels, revealing its intricate texture beneath your fingertips. 

You assist Sunghoon in removing his suit jacket next, observing it gracefully descend to the floor. You briefly wonder why he's so nonchalant about leaving such an expensive garment on the ground, but he dismisses your concern with a wave of his hand. After all, as a chairman, he has the means and privilege to easily replace such clothing items.

You decide that it’s your turn to take the lead for once and initiate another heated session of sultry lip service. Your mouth kisses Sunghoon’s with primal hunger. Teeth clash, and you see no remorse for your hostility sponsored by pent-up sexual frustration and longing for some sort of relief that only Sunghoon can render. 

In a poor attempt to unbutton the last layer of clothing that shields Sunghoon’s upper half, your fingers fumble with the small disks that are fastened by the slits. You whine frustratedly against his lips once you realize you’re not making much progress. It is incredibly hard to multitask when your tongue is being manhandled by his.

“Here, lemme do it.“ Sunghoon mutters in a low growl. 

He tears open the placket just like he would to a bag of chips, and the buttons you were struggling to relieve him of pop off in ease, taunting you for your lack of efficiency at getting him out of his attire. He wriggles his arms free from the restraints of his sleeves and shrugs the apparel from the summit of his shoulders, allowing the ruined piece to join his suit jacket on the floor.

“Your turn, babe.” 

He twirls you around, your back fully pressed against his front as the tent in his pants pokes at your globes. The thrill of his length nestled between your ass spurs you to grind yourself on him, a staggered exhale of his hot breath fans the curvature of your trapezius, prickling your skin. The cotton material of your underwear cultivates a sticky sensation the longer you stay trapped in it.

“S-shit baby, you’re a fucking tease.” Sunghoon grabs your chin, forcing your head to turn his way so that he can seize your lips in an inconsistent kiss. Alternatively, it’s a tongue duel of him wanting to shove the muscular organ down your throat.

“A-ahh,” You moan helplessly.

He yanks the zipper of your dress. The item peels off of your bust, exposing your bare skin and naked torso simultaneously. You have to wriggle your hips past the remaining fabric in order to fully reveal your bare figure to Sunghoon— besides your damp panties that is.

“No bra today? It’s almost like you were expecting this to happen…” Sunghoon taunts.

“N-no…” You squeak, shaking your head.

“No? Use your words baby.”

You turn to face him, your perky mounds that come into his view are a sight for sore eyes. Even in the dark and scant amount of natural lighting from the celestial object in the night sky, is Sunghoon competent at reading your flustered features. How you manage to be cute yet look so lewd all at once is beyond his comprehension.

“I-I didn’t wear a bra because I thought it’d be easier to go without one.” You mumble, telling the truth.

“That’s better,” Sunghoon coos. He pecks your cheek and you smile at the reward.

“Eeek! S-Sunghoon!” You burst into a fit of shared laughter and giggles when said name scoops you into his arms, your body cradled against his chest, as your legs dangled over his one arm while the other supports your back.

“Just practicing when we’re both walking down the aisle at our future wedding.” Sunghoon jests.

Tenderness fills your eyes when you look up at him. He’s joked about the hypothetical conception of marriage twice in the night that you’re fully convinced it wouldn’t be all that bad of an idea. Given that both of you are ready and first rekindle the status of your relationship, of course.

Sunghoon grins. There’s a gentle kindness to his pearly whites, and you reach up to press a chaste kiss to his jawline.

He relocates to your bedroom. Gently, he lays you down on the bed, your body propped up on your forearms, bearing the weight of your upper half. With an unwavering gaze, you study Sunghoon closely, every detail of his expression and every nuance of his presence.

His eyebrows knit and meet in the middle, fixated on undoing his pants to escape from their restraints, followed by his underwear soon after. His stiff member rebounds off his lower abdomen, precum leaking from the mushroom tip. A satisfied exhale leaves his mouth. He stalks over to you with a sly smirk, towering your smaller frame when he crawls on top of the bed, his knees plant themselves into the mattress and his additional weight dips the space where you lay.

You whine when his length ghosts at the expanse of your inner thigh, suspense and arousal continue to bubble inside of you. Sunghoon murmurs for you to lay back. “Make yourself comfortable,” were his initial instructions before hooking the waistband of your panties with his fingers and dragging them below your legs. The undergarment was tossed to the side.

You nibble at your bottom lip and screw your eyes shut when a slender finger circles the perimeter of your labia.

“You’re so wet babe,” Sunghoon purrs.

Your breath hitches at the back of your throat when he slides his index finger through your inner lips, gathering an abundance of your slick to bring to his mouth for a taste. Both eyes flutter open in time to witness Sunghoon suck at the digit drenched with your arousal. The sight is sinfully lewd, nearly too much for you to handle. Your face reddens and you fight the inclination to hide behind your hands.

“You taste so good, too.“ He licks at his lips. “Wanna try?” Sunghoon cocks his head to the side, and you can’t find it in you to turn down his offer when he looks so innocent— yet acts like the devil himself when he’s overcome with lust. You nod your head with approval.

His duality needs to be studied at Harvard, you think in the back of your mind.

Sunghoon plunges his index finger past your hole, triggering your back to arch an inch off the bed. He chuckles lowly and watches as your hands grab desperately at the sheets beneath you to steady your sanity. The singular digit curls inside of you. Your unforeseen shock is vocalized in the form of a moan and Sunghoon repeats the motion several times.

“O-oh my god—“ You gasp.

The ravenette withdraws his finger and taps at your mouth, signaling you to open. You submit to his implicit dictation. Your lips encase his pointer, tongue swirling around it like a piece of sweet candy you’re tasting for the first time.

You bat your eyelashes prettily and moan. “Mmmh…”

“Dirty girl,” Sunghoon sniggers. He retracts his finger and you let it slip past your mouth with a ‘pop’ sound.

“Can you please give me your cock now?” You plead with a pout, doing your best impression of an endearing set of puppy eyes.

Sunghoon chuckles. “Let me at least prep you first, baby. How long has it been since you’ve had someone’s cock inside of you, anyways?”

You part your lips but close it just as quickly. To be candid, you've never been one to actively immerse yourself in the 'I'm single' scene. Your only foray into it was with Yunjin, roughly three weeks after your split with Sunghoon. The two of you ventured to a club, but it proved to be a brief endeavor. Within two hours, the fifth shot became a catalyst, turning you into an unending fountain of tears.

“Y/n?”

“Huh? Oh. Sorry…”

“I’m sorry baby. Did I overstep your boundaries?” Sunghoon cups your face with his right hand, his eyes scan yours, sincerity and concern laced in those chocolate orbs of his.

You stifle a giggle. Of all boundaries he could have crossed he draws the line at asking for your body count and not him fingering you.

“What? What’s so funny?” He asks.

“Nothing just… I think it’s ironic you ask me that now and not before we did all of this.” You motion to your bare bodies when you say ‘this.’

Sunghoon’s ears redden.

“But don’t worry, Hoonie.” You hook your arms around his neck and pull him closer to pepper his face with several reassuring kisses. “I don’t mind it all. Now can you please fuck my brains out!”

Your ex (whatever he is to you at this point) throws his head back to share a quick laugh, shortly pressing his forehead against yours.

Without warning, he buries three fingers in your pussy; your hips twitch at the sentience. They slide in and out without strain and together the two of you watch as he finger fucks your hole to “prep” for his cock. The squelching noise of your juices fill the room in addition to your moaning, and Sunghoon confronts a hurdle of his patience wearing thin, wanting to fuck you senseless.

His digits leave your hole and you whine immediately at the loss. Sunghoon uses the mass quantity of slick as a substitute for lube to lather on his angry cock. He shuffles against the bed, forcing your legs even further apart to fit himself in between them. The stretch burns your muscles but is soon forgotten when the tip of his length is rubbing your folds, occasionally bumping your swollen clit which generates a needy whine.

Sunghoon’s face screws with ecstasy when his shaft inches past your entrance. Your walls hug his length and he whimpers at the tight muscles that suffocate his erection. You squirm under him, tensed and breathing heavily. It’s hard to relax when seven inches feel like it’s splitting you in half after a long hiatus from sex. Sunghoon notices your discomfort and stills his hips from pushing further, allowing you the necessary time to adjust.

“Sorry baby, I know it’s been a while. You can take it, right? Like the good girl you are?”

You nod. He kisses your forehead, cheek, and lips to soothe your anxiety, using his lips as a distraction to keep your mind from zoning in on his cock. He seizes the opportunity to fit the rest of his length inch-by-inch, and you feel like a virgin all over again when the burn of his cock stretching you open is almost too unbearable.

“Sshh, it’ll be alright, baby.” He wipes away a loose tear. “I’m gonna move, tell me when and if it’s too much, okay?”

“O-okay, Hoonie…”

Steadily, Sunghoon recedes his hips, cock following in suit, just enough for the tip to be the only thing that your pussy clenches on. He snaps forward, your boobs jiggle at the motion and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head when he repeatedly thrusts at a steadfast pace. The pain you were once scared of is no longer a fear you have to worry about, as pleasure is the only thing you know how to feel.

“F-faster, harder, p-please Hoon.” You fight through broken moans to let your voice be heard.

“Shit—“ He curses.

Sunghoon’s fingers dig into the plush fat of your waist while his other hand presses into the space of your bed next to the side of your head. His eyebrows knit, focused entirely on increasing the speed of his thrusts. He continues to piston fuck your pussy, abusing your hole in the utmost gratifying procedure. Your thighs jiggle each time that his balls slap against your skin. Everything reminds him of an amateur homemade video he’s seen from other couples perform on Pornhub. He’ll have to ask you some other day if you’d ever be open to filming your own tapes to watch back.

“Mmh, right there, Hoonie.” You sigh dreamily, locking your legs around his waist and linking your ankles together. “You’re fucking me so good— Aah!” A high pitch squeal slips from your vocal box when his tip probes at your G-spot.

“F-fuck,” Sunghoon leans in close, relying only on one forearm to hold himself up from crushing you with his entire weight. He hides his face in your boobs, tongue flicking at the sensitive bud that hardens in response. He persistently thrusts deeper, his cockhead pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Hnngh… Y-yes, yesyesyes!” You chant. Your fingers tangle themselves in his hair, scratching gently at his scalp and tugging whenever his mouth would suck or massage at your breasts. “You’re gonna— make me c-cum!“

Sunghoon’s unrelenting despite your warning. He can feel your walls clamping around his shaft, signaling your impending orgasm, and it taunts him to force himself deeper within your warm cavern at every jerk of his hips. Your hands fall to his biceps. Nails digging into his skin as your face distorts into extreme pleasure.

“I’m so close too, baby.” He groans. “Just.” Thrust. “A.” Thrust. “Couple.” Thrust. “M-more!”

“I’m cumming! I’m c-cumming—“ Your hips tremble with a frenzied urgency as your pussy pulsates around Sunghoon’s cock. Your mouth opens in a silent gasp and a long, impassioned moan escapes your lips. The sheer intensity of the moment leaving you incoherent and lost in ecstasy.

Sunghoon twitches inside of you. “Hah— you’re so— fuck!— s-sexy,” He grunts. Your head thrashes at the overstimulation of his length continuously pumping into you and you push at Sunghoon’s chest weakly, crying on his cock for him to slow down. You whine, whimper, plead for mercy so that your pussy can recover from the intense orgasm you just experienced not too long ago. In spite of that, he ignores your pleas and concentrates on finishing. It isn’t until white ropes of cum are shooting at your walls when his thrusts start to get sloppier and progressively come to a stop.

“Fuck.” Sunghoon exhales through gritted teeth. Both of you are a panting mess trying to catch your breaths as your chests rise and fall synchronously. The ravenette pulls out slowly and he groans when he sees his seed spill out of your hole, it closely reminds him of those hentai comics he’s read through illegal websites.

“I’ll get something to help clean you up.” Sunghoon lifts his weight from the bed but you reach for his forearm to grab him. You don’t have to say anything for him to understand that you don’t want him to leave your side. He brings a hand to yours, the pad of his thumb grazing the hills of your knuckles soothingly. “It’ll be fast, I promise.”

Not even 30 seconds has gone by when he re-enters your room with a damp cloth. He wipes at the areas where a mix of your cum and his seed litter your skin with sticky residue. He discards of the ruined cloth before joining you in bed where you welcome him with open arms. He plops down next to you and you turn to lay on your side so that you can get a proper view of his handsome face in post-sex afterglow. You reach out to gently touch his moles that adorn his features. The moles you missed seeing as the first thing in the morning when you’d wake up with him by your side. He grins lazily and cranes his neck to bring his lips to your forehead.

“Sunghoon…?” Your faces are merely inches apart from one another. Though the close proximity is not a foreign situation— especially after just having sex— you speak to him with a hushed tone.

“Yes?” He inquires.

“At the restaurant, you implied that you wanted to get back together again… Is it true? Do you really mean it?” Your lips are quivering and you mentally berate yourself for being so soft hearted in these types of scenarios where emotions are high, vulnerable, and transparency is called upon.

Sunghoon breathes shakily. “I really mean it. I miss you, Y/n.” He tucks away loose strands of hair that fall on your face. “These past two years without you have been hell. The first couple of months were so bad, I almost reconsidered being the chairman for father’s company so I could fight for us. Fight for you. I’m sorry if that part of my life got in our way as a couple, and I wish I had made more of an effort to be around you.”

You sniffle, “It wasn’t just your fault. I should’ve communicated instead of thinking I know better and that I thought what I did was for the greater good— because it wasn’t. And you’re right, the two years I spent without you were awful. I never wanna go through that again.”

Sunghoon loops an arm around your waist and guides your head to bury against his chest.

“We don’t have to.”

Morning rays gently infiltrate the room as Sunghoon stands before the full-length mirror in your shared master bedroom. His voice carries across the space as he greets his loving wife, 'Good morning, Mrs. Park,' while he meticulously adjusts his tie.

You stir in bed. The unwelcome intrusion of sunlight forces you awake despite the supposedly blackout curtains you requested when you first moved in with Sunghoon. You sigh in irritation. Dismissing the hope of another ten minutes of sleep, you push yourself upright, your arms stretching above your head, accompanied by a vibrant yawn. Sunghoon, amused by your morning ritual, chuckles softly.

“Still sleepy?” Your husband turns to face you after successfully finishing the Windsor knot of his tie. You blink away the fog of grogginess from your eyes and grin when you get a clear vision of your husband clad in his usual work uniform.

“Mmm… you’re so handsome.”

Sunghoon's face lights up with a genuine smile, touched by your kind words that always seem to set the perfect tone for his day. He approaches your side of the bed with a confident saunter and takes a seat beside you.

“Any plans for today, my lovely wife?”

You can't help but giggle at his endearing habit of calling you 'wife' and 'Mrs. Park.' It's become a sweet tradition between the two of you, a reminder of your loving bond that has grown since your wedding day. You twist your hand to observe the silver band that ornaments your ring finger. The diamond twinkles back at you in the bask of the light.

“I think Yunjin and I are getting brunch, then we’re going shopping right after, and later in the evening we’re gonna drink some wine and paint as we gossip about our husbands.”

Sunghoon laughs. “You’ve got a busy day ahead of yourself then.” He nudges your side playfully and you giggle. “Don’t forget to fit me into your schedule. Let’s go out for dinner tonight.”

“Cold noodles and ginseng chicken soup?”

“Where it all started.”

You envelop yourself in your husband's embrace, showering him with affectionate kisses. Starting from his moles and moving to both cheeks, his nose, forehead, and, ultimately, his irresistible lips, you express your love and absolute adoration for him with each tender peck.

“I love you, Mr. Park.” You murmur against his plush tiers.

His fingers delicately sweep aside the loose strands of hair obscuring your face, as he lovingly takes in every captivating feature, examining them with deep worship.

“I love you more, Mrs. Park.”

Two years ago you and Sunghoon sealed the knot in California. The ceremony took place at the Alila Ventana wedding venue, perched on a cliff along the rugged coast line of Big Sur. It offered a dramatic landscape, nestled amidst towering redwood trees, and a breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean; the perfect picturesque backdrop for photos and videography. The outdoor spaces, gourmet dining, and coastal elegance were truly significant factors of your reception.

Sunghoon kept his promise to Mrs. Kim when the time came to send out the wedding invitations. Her excitement was beyond words as both of you entered the restaurant, radiating a newfound delight. Her gaze immediately fixated on the sparkling diamond ring on your finger— the same one she had scolded him for, which was now complete.

Come time to exchange your vows, Sunghoon's heartfelt declaration to cherish and devote himself to your love made it extremely difficult to keep your makeup in tact. Yunjin, your appointed maid of honor, had to step in to hand you tissues one after the other. The audience laughing to themselves at your showcase of emotions.

True to his words, Sunghoon carried you bridal style as he stalked down the aisle. Your families and friends cheering from their seats, their joyous applause resonating through the air. The warmth of their smiles and the happy tears in their eyes mirrored the love that enveloped you both in that moment.

Since then, life with Sunghoon after marriage was anything but dull.

[cece693]

tony stark x male reader who’s kinda shy and quiet but crazy good at math and science and all those equations. something fluffy and cute thank youuuuuuu

Brilliant (Tony Stark x M! Reader)

Announcement: for those who have been following my Velvet Ring trilogy fic, I've created an AO3 account where I intend to flesh out the story. Here's the link! Also, since I'm not smart myself, I didn't go in-depth about science and calculations, so forgive me :(

Tony Stark was many things: a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist—but being in a committed relationship? That wasn’t exactly the headline he wanted plastered all over the news. Not because he was ashamed—far from it—but because Tony had learned the hard way that the world had a way of ruining what mattered most. And you? You mattered more than anything.

You were everything Tony wasn’t—quiet, thoughtful, reserved. While Tony thrived in the spotlight, you thrived in the solace of your work, diving deep into equations and theories that would leave most people with a headache. You were a prodigy in your own right, a quiet storm of brilliance and ingenuity. The kind of man who didn’t seek recognition, only results. Tony couldn’t help but admire that about you—and, though he’d never admit it out loud, you kept him grounded in a way no one else could.

Tonight, you were sprawled out on the couch in your shared apartment, wearing a faded hoodie and sweatpants you’d stolen from Tony long ago. A notebook rested on your lap, filled with scribbled formulas and diagrams. The room was quiet, save for the occasional scratch of your pen against paper.

The sound of the front door opening broke your focus. Tony stepped inside, tie loosened and suit jacket draped over his arm. He looked tired, but his eyes lit up when they landed on you.

“Hey, handsome,” he greeted, his voice warm as he crossed the room. “What did I say about math after ten?”

You glanced up, rolling your eyes. “You said it’s a house rule. I said it’s not enforceable.”

Tony smirked, plucking the notebook from your hands before dropping it onto the coffee table. Sitting beside you, he wrapped one arm around your shoulders, your head tucked into the crook of his neck. “You were late,” you muttered, resting your head against his shoulder. “Everything okay?”

“Just the usual corporate nonsense,” Tony replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You know how it is—saving the world, keeping the board happy. Exhausting, really. I’m practically a saint.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, but instead of responding, your eyes kept flickering toward the discarded notebook on the table. After a moment, you shifted slightly in his hold, trying to reach for it. Tony groaned dramatically, tightening his grip.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he said, pulling you closer. “I just got home, and you’re trying to ditch me for math? Do you have any idea how lonely I’ve been? I’ve been deprived of your presence all day, and this—” he gestured at the notebook—“is more important?”

You bit back a laugh, managing to wiggle out of his grasp. “I promise it'll be worth it."

Tony crossed his arms, slumping back against the couch like a sulking child. “Fine, but if I die from lack of cuddles and attention it's on you.”

Grabbing the notebook, you turned back to him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You look fine. And for the record, this 'math' you're referring to is yours."

That caught his attention. His brows furrowed as he sat up straighter, his earlier theatrics forgotten. “Mine?”

You nodded, flipping open the notebook and holding it out to him. “You mentioned the other night that you were having issues with stabilizing the power output on the Iron Man suit. I’ve been working on it.”

Tony’s eyes scanned the pages, his expression softening with each line he read. Your neat handwriting detailed calculations, theories, and possible solutions. You’d even diagrammed potential fixes, complete with annotations on how they’d improve efficiency. “You’ve been working on this?” he asked, his voice quieter now. “For me?”

“Well, yeah,” you said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “I know it’s been frustrating you, so I thought I’d try to help.”

For once, Tony Stark was speechless. His eyes flickered between you and the notebook, the weight of your gesture hitting him like a freight train. You’d spent your time—not for your own research or projects, but to solve one of his problems. It wasn’t just the effort or the brilliance of your work—it was the care behind it, the way you always seemed to go out of your way to make his life a little easier.

Tony set the notebook aside, reaching for you instead. His hands cupped your face, his gaze warm and filled with an emotion he rarely let himself feel this deeply. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with gratitude. “I don’t deserve you.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, soft and full of affection. It wasn’t the usual teasing kiss he’d steal when he was being playful—it was deeper, more vulnerable. A silent thank you, a promise that he’d never take you for granted. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he smiled. “You’re too good to me.”

You laughed softly, your hands resting on his chest. “You’re worth it, Stark. Even if you are a little dramatic sometimes.” Tony chuckled, pulling you into another kiss, his heart full and his mind already spinning with ideas. If this was what it felt like to be loved by you, then he never wanted to let it go.

[iid-smile]

#02 for ୨ৎ ⸝⸝ @whispytrees ⋆

hi! thank you for your order! i see you got yourself 5, 10 and 21, a little bit of everything. also you love what i write omg???? got me squealing, giggling, kicking my feet just a bit... (i screamed) you're so sweet <3 no pun intended here hehe. dazai we shall! went with headcanons since you didn't specify, i hope that's okay!

#5 🍰 | having kids together

dazai is either a suspiciously good girl dad, or the type to scare his kid whenever he can

would use the time between pregnancy or adoption process as an "excuse" to get off work, except he's actually doing a lot to make sure the little girl has the best environment to grow up with

wants to give her the childhood he never got, so he'll say yes to everything she wants unless it'll get her harmed or in danger

has no filter around your daughter, so please beware and stay close at all times!! he can and will go into deep depth about... multiple not-so-safe-for-kids topics and cause her to cry, so make sure you're ready to give her a big hug

anyways! he loves dancing with her more than anything. will buy his daughter all sorts of cute dresses no matter the age (big skirts are the best!) may even get her into dance classes; most likely ballet or ballroom. it's always cute to catch them in the act

sasses his teenage daughter back. NOTHING is getting past him. he takes treat people how you want to be treated seriously in this household

#10 🍓 | cuddling during the morning / night

morning

quite often, dazai is too lazy to get up (especially if it's for work) if you have to get up too, then you're not. keeping you in bed is most effective when he's the big spoon, because he holds you tight and squishes his cheek against your nap

tickles you because he knows his fingers get really cold sometimes. actually, he's just a really cold guy in general, it's weird.

mumbles about random things as if he's drunk. it's just him ranting about how much he love you and how much his life has changed for the better since he met you.

sleepy dazai is just clingy overall. every single one of his body parts has to be touching yours

night

you have to hold hands! it's a requirement. facing each other, spooning, on top of each other, upside down or whatever, his hand is always linked with yours

if you're already asleep, he'd quietly yap about how his day went, making sure to whisper so you wouldn't wake up.

eventually goes quiet, and just stares at you. every single detail on your face. he's not picky about looks, but you're the most attractive person he's ever seen

gently nudges your head towards his chest and tucks it under his chin, falling asleep while smiling. his biggest fear is not sleeping by your side after all.

#21 🍦 | where they like to kiss you

we all know dazai loves hands.

the back of your hand and knuckles are obvious ones, but he kisses your fingertips and wrists a lot too. fingertips are his favourite! he does this thing where he'll kiss your middle and index finger, and pulls your hand over to place them on his heart.

lips, but it's not really a kiss. it's just pressing your lips together, no smooches </3 he mostly does this to tease you, because you can always feel the small smirk he has.

shoulders too because why not? shoulder blade is where he loves to kiss you. no particular reason, it's just a nice spot for when he's behind you.

your neck would be another spot where he loves to tease, and he does the same thing where he just presses his lips against it, not kissing. sometimes just ghosts his lips over your skin to feel you shiver.

event masterlist

[hyog-blog]

Fangs of Fortune: The Game of Yin and Yang

I love how Zhao Yuanzhou is basically embodying the philosophy of Yin and Yang, which is much more flexible and practical than the old-fashioned Christianity-inspired good vs. evil dichotomy.

And because it is Chinese philosophy, we don't get too much of that black-and-white nonsense in the show, but instead, we get to explore 50,000 shades of black, white, and gray playing with each other beautifully. And what better way to convey the ambiguous nature of this world, which seems so bent on the Duality of literally everything, than to take the Evilest Force in the world and attach the most gentle, caring, and loving soul to it (to torment both that soul and everyone who gets to witness this torment).

I mean, the recipe is nearly perfect, it really is. And not only do we get to see this evil mixed with a hefty portion of good (like that drop of white inside the Yin-Yang symbol), but we also get to see the perfectly good and innocent characters mixed with a hefty drop of black (like Bai Jiu who got possessed by Li Lun).

Children are considered by society as the most innocent creatures (okay, Bai Jiu is a teenager, but he could still pass), that's why getting him taken over by someone so dark and broody and ill-intended like Li Lun hits even harder. Like all that innocence becomes tainted by something so bad. And at the same time, being a supposedly innocent child, we also see that Bai Jiu really isn't stainless himself (and he got to explore a bit of his darker side when he betrayed his friends).

And yet, it is also Li Lun, who is not someone abysmally bad (he's just lost, and wounded, and a bit more on the demonic spectrum when it comes to ethics and morality), who gets attracted to that light and purity to get a chance at redemption (which he does get in the end!). It's as if being in that body, chatting with those people, experiencing some friendliness before he got exposed actually mattered to the point that it changed him as well (and thus, that droplet of light in the blackness of Yin started doing its magic, slowly transforming the darkness, giving hope to someone who has seemingly lost it).

There's also Zhuo Yichen and his ability to see the good for what it is and his inability to see evil where there is none. Like, if it was someone else (even in real life probably) they would righteously hate Zhao Yuanzhou no matter what (maybe even knowing that he had no choice but to kill all those people). But this young man not only sees the good in Zhao Yuanzhou, that droplet of light that shines brighter than all that malicious energy, but he actually has enough goodness in him to forgive ZYZ.

Because Zhuo Yichen's beautiful soul, no matter how innocent and pure, has seen despair and lived through so much grief that it also changed him, making him more empathetic than most people (and that's yet another thing that Zhuo Yichen and Zhao Yuanazhou have in common - they both got transformed by the heaviness of their grief, two perfectly gentle creatures who just had to explore the depth of human and demon suffering, and that's why they meet on level ground).

And what makes their relationship especially beautiful, is that they both came to the same point, but moving from different directions of the spectrum - Zhao Yuanzhou was clinging onto his own light in the Ocean of Darkness, but that light was piercing enough for him to survive and remain himself. Zhuo Yichen was light that had lived through pain and grief of unimaginable proportions, and it changed him, but it didn't drag him down into that Ocean of Darkness.

It's a type of equilibrium, and they both, each in their own right, continue looking for ways to find balance in their lives (and then they meet each other and it changes them again). Zhuo Yichen sees that there's always light in the darkness (and Zhao Yuanzhou is a stark example of it), for Zhao Yuanzhou - Zhuo Yichen is that light shining brightly, reminding him that it actually exists, and it grants him absolution. And it also makes things especially painful for him because his darkness (that malicious force) tainted that light (but it didn't, really, it transformed ZYC into something more).

And when Li Lun gives his energy/life force to Zhuo Yichen, and then when ZYC gives all those powers, adding his own, to Zhao Yuanzhou for him to break the barrier and kill Wen Zongyu - this is the reflection of the same Yin and Yang principle, the all-pervasive energies penetrating into each other, becoming one another, ever-changing. Basically what they're saying with this is "I am you and you are me and there's no difference." And not even some magic barrier can stop those energies from becoming one.

Zhuo Yichen actually understood Zhao Yuanzhou even before he got turned into a demon himself (and once again we're shown that it's not that the demons are all bad, you can still choose what to be even if you turn into one, and if you have that droplet of light inside of you, like the Yin and Yang, there's always a chance it will overpower even the borderless Darkness, be it inside a human or a demon heart).

We also get to see how that droplet of light comes in the form of love into Zhao Yuanzhou's life (from Wen Xiao, Zhuo Yichen, and the rest of their little gang), and it slowly transforms him, a very depressed being, who's already suicidal, and in the end, he actually feels alive enough to not want to die. That transformative power of light is actually limitless.

In the show, we see people come out of the darkness of their souls and bad states and depressions to see the light of something more, but then there's also the main bad guy who turned full-on evil because his wife was killed, and we see how that droplet of darkness pushed that person to the brink of becoming a murderer and torturer of both humans and demons.

And there's also the notion of Li Lun with that one thing, one betrayal, one drop of darkness changing him and bringing him close to the brink of turning full-on evil himself (he pretty much is at some point, but he never loses the ability to feel, it's just that he can't process his own grief, pain, and all those emotions that are eating him up). And even for him, who has gone so far, there was still a chance to get back (which he does, having experienced the transformative power of Zhao Yuanzhou's love that has never disappeared). So Li Lun's life is spared and he transfers himself into that piece of root that Zhu Yan saved, for he never stopped caring about Li Lun, and the latter could finally see that in the end.

Even with Wen Xiao, we see how something 'bad' (the death of her father) leads to something 'good' - she is found by the Goddess and later becomes a Goddess herself and gets to meet Zhao Yuanzhou. It's all so relative and nuanced that we can't really say that something is actually good or bad, just like with the show's characters and their personal journeys.

And don't get me started on Ying Lei, the ultimate sunshine boy, who gets dragged into the dark world of human-demon relationships, vengeance, and doomed narrative to pave a path of his own. Sometimes a droplet of light does drown in the Ocean of Darkness, but it still makes a huge difference and transforms everyone's lives before it finally fades away (that, and other people's doomed narratives may also be contagious if you go deep into those relationships). Well, we can argue that his narrative was also doomed from the start but that's a topic for a different essay XD

I just love how the show is not only about good fighting evil, the whole fight is like a veil, a premise, a stage to tell a story about characters that are much more complex than that very familiar dichotomy. And just like in life, good things sometimes lead to bad consequences, and bad deeds can bloom into something wonderful against all odds.

[divinesangel]

— 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮?

pm me for an affordable, in-depth personal reading!

— 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞!

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏

this person envies you for being very attractive + attracting many people. i see that this person feels quite bad about the situation you are going through right now, and it seems that part of their envy has to do with how you attract others, even without intending to do so consciously. this person feels that you have always had many opportunities that they have not had and they feel as if they are in a situation of no return, as if they have hit rock bottom and do not know how to come back outward. they see you as someone who has always had many opportunities and who has always been able to do what they wanted because of it, something that this person has not been able to do in their life or has not felt that they have been able to. in addition to that, i feel that this person is capable of seeing that there are other people very interested in you, very interested in how you handle yourself, in how you are, and who are interested in being with you, and that is something that makes them feel quite insecure. i feel they have been able to realize that there are people who look at you a lot, and in particular, i see that there is a person who has realized that there is another person who is quite interested in you, and they have ended up feeling quite bad about it. perhaps this person has had feelings for this other person, and that's why they feel this way, but they can see that there is something about you that attracts others and makes them like you, and it makes them feel very victimized or like they are victims of the circumstances surrounding them. they see you as a very independent person, someone who could have anyone they wanted, and that makes them feel insecure because they feel they are not that type of person, and even if they tried, they could not achieve it. your energies are completely different, as is the way you express yourselves to others. they are also able to see that you are a very sensitive person and someone whom people treat very well. and there is something here about you having more opportunities than them, which is what mainly makes them feel quite bad. and for many of you, i do not think they are job opportunities or material opportunities, but opportunities in terms of love or friendships. they feel that you are superior to them, and they are not comfortable with that.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

in this case, i see a feminine energy that doesn't seem to harbor much animosity toward you. i feel that in the past, this person may have been attracted to you and may have thought that you could be good friends or just get along well, but that changed and took a downturn. i see that this has to do with a guy who may have been involved with you or with her. if you haven't had anyone or haven't been in a relationship recently, it could be that this person was interested in someone and that person didn't pay much attention to her, but did to you. i definitely think it's someone you know, but apart from that, i see that this person has changed quite a bit in terms of their feelings toward you, and i feel that in the past you got along well or at least this person had good intentions toward you, and that changed completely and turned into something not very pleasant. i feel that this has to do with some relationship since i keep seeing that guy i mentioned earlier. i feel that your name was mentioned in a conversation within her circle, and that changed her opinion of you. besides that, i feel that part of her envy has to do with seeing you as a very charismatic person who also gives a lot to others, meaning you're always there for others and are very compassionate with everyone, and that's something that repels them. in this person's mind, they feel that life hasn't treated them very fairly, and they feel very conflicted about it. they feel like they're still finding their place in the world and need that intimate connection with someone. something they haven't been able to have and they think you do with the people you know. this person feels hurt by something that happened between you and another person and it's eating away at them.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

there's someone in your circle who envies you because of all the things you've achieved so far. it seems to be related to work, maybe from your professional sphere, or perhaps someone you study with. undoubtedly, it's someone you know. and this person might be experiencing feelings of dissatisfaction or jealousy because of your success and abilities, which could lead them to act somewhat unfairly or confrontationally towards you. furthermore, i feel like this person might be driven by competition or the desire to surpass you in some way. they feel somewhat inferior to you and feel like they should be in your position. they feel like they have to prove themselves all the time in order to get to your level and feel sort of like enough, not even for other people, but for themselves. i feel like this is someone that you hold some affection for. i don't think that you guys are that close, but i do see that you may have helped this person in the past, or you just may have had some affections for them. i feel like things were good at the beginning, but for some reason they started feeling less secure with the things that they had, and they just felt like you were sort of like a rival that they have. they definitely see you as someone quite powerful, and this is not in terms of power dynamics, but more of the way that you portray yourself, and also how well you do your stuff. i feel like they're very intimidated by that, and that creates conflicts within them. they feel kind of torn apart by how they're feeling, and i feel like sometimes it hurts them that they feel this competitive towards you, but it's not something that they can avoid since it stems from their own insecurities. i also feel like this is a feeling that comes and goes, so it's not like that all the time, but it's definitely kind of damaging for them.

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

hi! it's daphne here.

i'm currently offering personal readings for €5 ($5.43) so don't hesitate to send me a private message if you're interested!

thank you for being here!

[feelbokkie]

L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 17

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

WARNINGS: swearing, emotional breakdown

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

TAGLIST: open

W♡RD C♡UNT: 1,539

SCREENSH♡T C♡UNT: 9

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©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

Exhausted and in pain, you drag your feet across the floor as you scan the hotel room number.

Against medical advice, you ended up on a flight to Chile. The soonest the airport would let you on a flight after getting your cast on was 48 hours. Even then, you had to take a longer trip with multiple stops rather than one to reduce the stress on your body. Luckily for you, the kids flew to Chile a few days before the second leg of the tour started because of projects they were working on. Meaning that you arrived before the first show.

Wonseok and Frankie weren't happy when you told them you were still planning on going. They spent the two days you were home resting trying to convince you to take more time off. Under normal circumstances, you'd listen to them. If your sister hadn't called you the day before asking for money to help your mother and the rest of the family, you would be at home resting until you could get back to work.

Yet, because life doesn't work out the way you want it to, here you are 38 hours later jet-lagged with a throbbing arm and head trying to find room 148.

You've spent the past few days replaying the events of the airport in your head. It's all could do. You've been too tired or in too much pain to work. It all happened before you even realized what was happening. One second you were taking pictures of the kids while they were walking through the airport, the next you were on the ground with a searing pain coursing through your arm. You were pulled up before you could process the sudden crowd of people and all of the pushing and shoving and shouting from fans and other media professionals. You were pulled up from the ground before you could hurt more. Everything is such a blur, that you can't even remember who helped you.

"Noona?" A familiar voice rings through the hallway.

You set your rolling bag upright in the middle of the hallway as you lock eyes with Changbin. You adjust your backpack over your good arm and watch as Changbin types something into his phone and closes the door to his hotel room. After a moment, he looks up and stares at you, his brows drawing closer in concern.

"What are you doing here?" His words come out slowly, chosen with care and caution.

"Tour officially starts tomorrow, where else would I be?"It came out a bit more serious than you intended it to be.

“Back in Seoul,” Changbin scoffs, his eyes widen in disbelief. His phone chimes a few times before he types something again and then slides it into his pocket. “Honestly noona, you make Seungmin look like a slacker.”

“Well, some of us can’t afford to take time off.”

“You got hurt while working. You’d be taking time to heal, not going on vacation.” The phone in his pocket continues to chime, but with his eyes trained on you he ignores it.

You rubbed your eyes aggressively as if that might clear the heaviness from them. You’re too tired to argue with him and yet you still have an overwhelming urge to justify your actions. To validate them, mostly for Changbin to understand but also for a small part of you deep down that’s trying to understand exactly why you’re there now. “Can we do this later? I’m tired and I don’t feel good,”

“You’d be less tired and feel a lot better in your own bed,” Changbin says gently.

“Don’t you think I know that?” You snap. You’re not sure why, maybe it’s the tone in his voice. How his words come off a little condescending. Or maybe you’re so exhausted and used to how the two of you used to be on each other’s bad side, but something about what he said sets you off.

“Look, I don’t want to be here either. I just got done with 3 flights totaling 37 hours—not including layovers. My body hurts from sitting in stiff seats that I couldn’t recline because I didn’t want to be rude even though one flight had a screaming baby and another one had a kid kicking my seat for most of it. And my arm was throbbing so much that I thought it was going to explode mid-flight." You speak quietly, unable, it seems, to put any more effort into being louder. Changbin maintains gentle eye contact while waiting patiently through silence, his features softening from his usual sharp lines as he watches you carefully.

"I wish I could stay home, resting in my bed so I can heal properly. But I can't afford to do that because my boss depends on me. And on top of that, my family--despite me being the youngest with parents and siblings who are very much capable--rely on me. And the only time they remember I exist is when they need or want something, despite being the least favorite." A flicker of recognition crosses Changbin's eyes as you speak. You're oversharing more than you intend. With your level of exhaustion, you're unable to properly filter your words and prevent further word vomit from spewing out of your mouth.

As you speak the words that have been dwelling inside you for months--years even--they linger in the air, somehow heavier than they were before as they suck the oxygen out of the room and weigh down on you. Thick and heavy, your thoughts force you back into your own head, almost as if building a wall between you and Changbin. You don't notice, how much closer Changbin is than he was before. He didn't even notice at first how he seemed to inch closer to you the more you talked. Or how much his hand twitches while resting at his side, unsure of its own actions.

You rub your eyes aggressively once more--so hard you see little stars. You don't register how wet your hand is as you pull your hand away. You do, however, feel a dry lump in your throat as you try to breathe. Finally feeling pin pricks on the back of your eyes, your good arm covers your eyes as you try to choke back the sob threatening to escape your lips. You try to take one deep breath to calm yourself down to no avail. Unable to keep it together any longer, a choked cry escapes you. And then another, and another until you're full-on sobbing.

"I-I'm just so fucking tired," You gasp between sobs, barely able to catch the breath needed for the next.

Changbin's hands hover uncertainly before they gently graze your good arm, softly urging you to put it down. When you refuse, protecting whatever shred of dignity you have left, he places a firm grip on your wrist and slowly pulls your arm down. You're forced to make direct eye contact with Changbin, who is now staring at you with such tenderness that it hurts. His gaze studies you carefully, almost like he's trying to read you before his arms wrap around you.

Being mindful of your broken arm, his grip around you is firm. The scent of his cologne fills your nose, giving you a warm sense of comfort as your face is pressed against his chest. You can't help but cry harder as he murmurs soft words of comfort into your ear while his hands move in small, unconscious gestures of comfort on your back and head.

"It's okay, noona," He mumbles quietly.

"Bin, I told you to stop talking to her," Chan's panicked voice comes up behind you.

"I did," Changbin breathes, "This is about something else, hyung."

You grip Changbin's shirt and bury your face deeper into his chest. It's bad enough he has to see you like this, you're not going to let anyone else.

"You're fine, noona," He whispers to you. "She just needs some rest. She's had a long day."

"Let's get her to her room," Chan says quickly. Changbin's grip around you tightens again as Chan approaches the two of you.

"I got her, hyung. Can you just open her door? Her key is on the floor."

Chan presses his lips together before grabbing your room key from the floor. A weight is physically lifted from your shoulder as Chan grabs your backpack and slings it over his shoulder. He stumbles for a moment, caught off guard by how heavy your backpack is, before grabbing your carry suitcase and walking down the hall to find your room.

Changbin loosens his grip on you, allowing some air to go to your lungs. The atmosphere around you feels a bit lighter, having been absorbed by Changbin and his hug it appears. The heavy words slowly but surely dissipate from the air the more you stand there, listening to Changbin's strong, steady heartbeat. He pulls your head off his chest and watches you for a moment. His hand slides forward from the back of your head, resting on your cheek for a moment before the pad of his thumb breaks the flow of now-silent tears falling from your eyes.

"I got you, Y/n,"

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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@binchive

[wellofdean]

I read your post about Supernatural being queer somehow from season 1 and I have two questions.

1. Don't you think it straight-appropriates the word "queer" to say it just means "not normal"? That argument seems disingenuous to me, and a lot of us want representation, and to see that word applied to explicit depiction of queer sexuality, and it's a cheat that they don't. Queer studies did start as the study of queer sexualities and the experience of queer people.

2. Are you saying that the makers of Supernatural intended for it to be "flesh on queer bones"? Do you think they intentionally sat down to tell a queer story?

Those are good questions my anonymous friend. Thank you for asking. Here are my thoughts:

To answer your first question: no, I don't think it appropriates anything. Here's why: firstly, if we're talking about sexuality and gender, it's queer 101 that no one owes anyone a justification of their queerness, and not everyone who is queer is interested in labeling it or making it legible to you, and they have no obligation to do so, and not doing so doesn't make them any less queer. Furthermore, some people who are queer are not interested in sex, so what about them?

All of that together is why, for me, the entire queer project is much more deeply about non-compliance with hegemony, and specifically with hegemony around gender roles, sexuality and to put it under a big umbrella, patriarchy, than it is about who you fuck. Those things extend into so many other aspects of life that I think you can easily talk about "queering" a very wide range of topics, and possibly? ANY TOPIC.

You are responding to this post, I think, and in it, I made a choice to talk about family and hunting, and our heroes roles and characterizations in that, and did not talk about gender shenanigans or sexuality, because my point was that even before we get to anything to do with it, Sam and Dean are immersed in a queered world in a fundamental, structural way. That said, I assure you that if you go back into season 1 of Supernatural, you will find LOADS that could be said about gender and sexuality, too. As well as other things, and a particularly important area, as @ironworked pointed out in the tags, is blue collar/white collar class issues.

As I said, the depth of queerness in Supernatural is actually dizzying just in terms of the story's BONES to say nothing of how they flesh it out. Queerness is about deviation from the norm. It's about rebellion and disobedience against hegemonic systems for the sake of personal authenticity and love.

Think about Cas for a minute. Cas's whole story is that he rejects his role in a hegemonic heaven. He rebels for love, and that is pretty explicit as early as season 4 when he tells Dean "We're making it up as we go". Fellas, that is THE QUEEREST SHIT EVER even if he didn't do it for Dean, and like... HE DID IT FOR DEAN. Cas did not have to tell Dean he loved him for me to know it, and for Cas to be a deeply queered character. When he DID say it, I wasn't the least bit surprised he was in love with Dean, because seriously, we been knew. I was only surprised I got to have the immense pleasure of hearing him say it and looking at Dean's face while he took it in. Jesus. I will NEVER RECOVER.

This is my perspective on representation in Supernatural: It's excellent, and I relate to, and feel seen by it as a queer person. Nobody needs to get fucked on the maps table for me to do the math that this is a queer story. It is very, very, very thoroughgoingly canonically queer in so many ways, and not all of them are to do with sex. I think some fans will only allow it to be called queer if dudes make out in it. I am not one of those fans.

As to your second question, I think there is a wealth of evidence in the filmic oeuvre of Eric Kripke to suggest that as an artist and a writer, he is concerned or maybe even preoccupied with masculinity issues and issues around family, and around the way patriarchy fucks men up. So, yes. I think he knew what he was doing and he knew that queerness was part of the mix. For fucks sake, it's a family of men who hunt monsters. That is very fucking on the nose. Do I think he kicked off Supernatural in 2005 planning a 15 year operatic queer romance between Cas and Dean? No. I don't think anyone planned for it to go as long as it did, and it's a matter of record that some things were influenced by fan response, actors' chemistry, different writers and showrunners' preferences and etc. What I will say is that when they had a choice to "straighten shit out" or lean into the queerness, they fucking leaned in, nearly EVERY TIME. Like, it's pretty amazing how consistently they lean the fuck in.

I'll admit -- I wasn't watching it with those eyes the first time, and I didn't give it much real estate in my mind when I watched it as it aired from 2006 to the end, but the last three episodes reshaped it for me and made me angry, and also made me need to watch it all again, this time with an explicitly queer lens, and BOY HOWDY let me tell you this: the Supernatch rewatch journey is a wild and wonderful trip to Queertown. It is legit more difficult to argue that Dean is straight than it is to argue that he is queer. There is a full on CORNUCOPIA of story evidence to support that read and relatively little that convincingly counters it on the straight side, and that starts right at the beginning, when they bend pretty baby Dean over a police car in episode one, and he smirks insouciantly in his lip gloss. Do I think everyone involved knew how that looked? Sexy, submissive and a bit gay?

YES I DO.

[starlight-eclipsed]

Rockets Pointed Up at the Stars (Pt 1/2)

Inspired by this braindead rejected soulmates au post by @im-totally-not-an-alien-2. More art at the end!

Part II

Tim slumped down on the edge of an apartment building, leaning his weight against the rooftop’s fence. The alleyways below were deserted, criminals retreating to get a couple hours of sleep before sunrise. A perfect setting to catch a breather before ending his patrol for the night.

The Red Robin suit still felt wrong on him. He thought waiting a week to get accustomed to it would help, but he might have made a mistake when he tried to adjust it to be as close to his Robin uniform as possible without it being obvious. He’d have to remember to alter it further the next time he got the chance, to see if wearing something entirely different would finally make him stop checking the shadows for Bruce. Patrolling Gotham alone felt too much like admitting he was really gone.

Just as he was about to move on, the rooftop access door slammed open.

Tim nearly jumped out of his skin as he whirled around, ready to either apologize, attack, or flee, when he met familiar glowing green eyes.

Subconsciously, he let himself breathe easy as he took in the other’s appearance.

Phantom was an anomaly at the best of times. A phantom thief by definition, the criminal had simply appeared one day to cause chaos—lingering only to taunt his pursuers as he made a daring escape with whatever priceless treasure of the month. His motives were unknown, as was virtually anything about him besides his calling card (a green sticky note with nothing but ‘BOO’ written in permanent black marker), appearance, and a meta ability to phase through objects.

Of course, one couldn’t be a phantom thief without a detective rival (or so the thief in question claimed). For some reason, Phantom had outright declared not Batman, but Robin for the role. Tim couldn’t count how many sleepless nights were spent chasing after him, face red from a mixture of exertion and embarrassment. Because it wasn’t enough for the admittedly good-looking criminal roughly his age to run circles around him. No, the jerk had to go out of his way to flirt with him the whole time.

He hadn’t even thought about how Phantom would react to there being a new Robin. But looking at him now, a small part of Tim couldn’t help but feel selfishly glad. From what he could see of the furious expression on his shadowed face and glowing eyes, it wasn’t hard to see that Phantom was taking the change about as well as Tim was.

“I leave for two weeks, and suddenly there’s a new Batman and Robin?! What the fuck, Detective—you’d think to at least have the decency to tell a guy, but nooo, I had to find out through goddamn Victor Fries!”

Tim blinked, “Didn’t Mr. Freeze retire after someone brought his wife back?”

Phantom paused his fury, shrugging a bit. “Nora keeps track of everything happening in Gotham in case something her husband did to save her comes back to bite them.”

“Huh.”

“Anyway! It took me going after Victor to ask why there was a new Robin for me to hear that the actual Batman was dead, Gotham went berserk for a while as every other guy tried to take up the position, and somewhere along the lines you got the grand idea to add ‘red’ to your name! Which makes no sense, since you practically lived for that mantle and I would’ve bet that you’d take it past the grave if given the chance.”

Tim winced. As per usual, Phantom’s words hit home in more ways than intended.

The thief stopped short, the glowing of his eyes intensifying as he looked over Tim’s new identity. Tim didn’t move as soundless footsteps strode forward, not even pausing as Phantom phased through the chain link fence to sit a couple feet away from him.

He could count on one hand the number of times Phantom had done this. One second they’d be exchanging insults, and then suddenly the criminal would stop and stare, feeling like he was gazing into the depths of Tim’s very soul. Each time, he called off their chase, insisting that Tim take a break and talk to someone about whatever was troubling him. It was uncanny how he could somehow tell when Tim’s negative feelings were overwhelming his rational thought—Batman himself would use Phantom encounters to measure Tim’s wellbeing at times.

Looking back, it was odd how Phantom would insert himself into every aspect of Robin’s life, but back off the second he sensed something was wrong. He’d call attention to whenever Tim was particularly anxious, once even physically dragging Bruce over to ‘talk to your son when he’s sad’, but never offer any comfort himself. But here they were, Phantom obviously seeing something Tim could never hope to conceal, with no Bruce nearby to summon and make things better.

Tim’s throat clogged at the reminder of yet another little thing Bruce might never get to do again. He couldn’t be dead, not with how many times Tim checked the body and struggled to recognize the man who’d become like a father to him. 

“...I…I know we’re not exactly friends, Detective. But if you need to get something off your chest, I swear to never use it against you.” Phantom fidgeted with his cloak. From this close a distance, Tim could see the faint glimmer of sparkling purple constellations embroidered on the inside. For some reason, the sight of the soft fabric never failed to calm his nerves.

(It reminded him of a time long ago, when he held a gel ink pen and asked a mystery person to quit whatever they were doing that left his arms covered in star charts that didn’t match anything in the Earth’s night sky.)

He didn’t dare force himself to speak, for fear he might break this tentative peace. Thankfully, Phantom seemed to be taking initiative that night.

“...did you know that I used to be a teen hero?”

Tim’s head jerked upright, meeting Phantom’s eyes. It was impossible to tell exactly what expression he was making behind the mask, but he got a sense of bitter nostalgia. “You never talk about your past.”

A scoff, “Yeah, ‘cause it’s depressing as fuck. Not exactly the sort of thing you can talk about causally.”

He chewed his lip, thinking. “Your suit…minus the cloak, it looks reminiscent of a uniform.”

Phantom fiddled with a cylinder hooked on his belt. It was the only piece of tech visible on his person, a modified soup thermos that somehow served as a near infinite item storage. Impressive, if not odd.

“Yeah, the cloak is more of a blanket than anything else. I added it on when I got tired of looking at the same clothes I used to save my hometown in. It…I didn’t become a hero for fame. It was more trouble than it was worth, honestly. You guys nowadays have so much better support systems than when I was in the business. Makes me wonder if…” he trailed off.

“...why’d you stop?” Tim asked gently, more than willing to throw himself into this new mystery now that he knew it was there.

“It was too much. Everyone wanted me gone, even the people I was protecting. I was hated for my powers, for not always being on the scene when I was needed, for not ending fights faster and for the property damage my villains caused. I didn’t live in a place with metahuman protection laws. The few people that knew my secret identity got tired of superhero life and ditched the first chance they got.” He sighed, “I was hurting, and was desperate for a way out.”

Tim frowned, “So you moved to Gotham and started stealing?”

Phantom snorted. “Nah, I was fucked up for a while after I ran away. It’s funny, one of my rogues was the first to track me down and drag me to a hospital to get my injuries checked. Like a dozen of them got together for an intervention, I thought I was finally losing my grip on reality. I spent a couple months recovering, then took one of them up on a suggestion to try causing trouble for a change. Not anything super bad, but…”

“...enough to feel more in control?” Tim suggested. It wasn’t uncommon for people in bad situations to commit minor crimes, both for the adrenaline and the power rush. Tim himself had once poured his whole soul into tracking and photographing Gotham’s nighttime birds. A hobby that was more than a bit cringe-worthy in hindsight, and definitely creepy considering how much effort he put into stalking his idols. Honestly his young age was the only reason he didn’t get put on a watchlist when he revealed himself to Bruce. That, and the whole I-know-your-secret-identity thing.

“Oof. Yeah, that’s a way to put it. Being hated hurt less when that’s what I was aiming for, y’know?”

Tim tilted his head. “I never hated you.”

A derisive laugh, “Uh-huh. And you loved being led on goose chases when there were more important ways to spend your time.”

“I’m serious.” Tim shifted so that he was better facing Phantom. He didn’t know why, but couldn’t stand the thought of Phantom leaving tonight convinced he was universally hated. “You only make a scene on quiet nights, and you always slowed down for me whenever I had to stop and intervene on some other crime. And you only target the private collections of rich people. Not anyone whose life would be ruined by something getting stolen. You even go out of your way to make sure the guards on duty don’t get in trouble, even when it puts you in a strategically worse position. And…”

He hesitated. Bruce wouldn’t approve…but then again, there was that weird relationship he had with Selina.

“And it was fun. To chase you. It was challenging and frustrating, but your appearance meant that there was nothing else to worry about that night. We could just run regular patrols.”

Oracle was the one to make the connection. Tim didn’t know where along the lines it became an accepted fact, only that Bruce was more comfortable about Robin patrolling alone when Phantom was making a move. A miracle considering what happened to the last one.

Phantom blinked, frowning a bit before his eyes went wide, a shaky smile forming on his lips. “Thanks…it was fun for me too. Kinda the whole reason I kept setting up scenes for Robin to find.”

Tim laughed. The sound startled both of them—he didn’t remember the last time he genuinely smiled like this. It had to be sometime before Bruce was gone, at least.

“So…” Phantom hopped down on the railing of a balcony below, balancing precariously in the way that only he could. He looked up at Tim with an easygoing smile that did little to hide the concern underneath. “As your self-proclaimed favorite rogue, wanna tell me what’s up with the sudden change?”

He shifted a bit, grin fading. “Well…Batman died. He was facing Darkseid and got hit. After the chaos died down, Nightwing took up the mantle and made Batman’s son the new Robin, to help him grieve or something.”

“I don’t know where to start with that.” Phantom adjusted his hood, briefly revealing tan skin underneath. “You sound like you didn’t have a say in it. Wasn’t Robin yours?”

Something bitter worked its way up through Tim’s chest. “It was a borrowed title anyway. I only took it up to help Batman, so it makes sense that I was dismissed—”

“No.”

“—after huh?”

Phantom strode up to him, poking a finger at his knee. “You love being Robin. You don’t have to justify losing your identity. It could’ve been taken in the name of world peace for all I care, that doesn’t make it any less shitty. You just lost someone super important to you, and your connection to them was taken because someone thought your grief was less important. I don’t care who the current one is, you are just as much Batman’s son.”

Tim couldn’t help the small sob that escaped. Or when it doubled, and tears started burning at his eyes. He rubbed at them in an attempt to stop them before they could make his mask go hot and sticky, but was startled out of it by a soft weight being thrown over him. He looked up to see Phantom leaning over him, securing the hood of his cloak over Tim’s own head.

“You looked like you needed some comfort. It’s weighted.” Phantom shrugged.

“...thanks.” Tim pulled it closer, more than happy to latch onto yet another new focus. “How do you move so easily in this? It feels like I’m being hugged by gravity.”

Phantom chuckled, and it was at that moment Tim suddenly realized the other was floating in the air over him. Since when has he been able to fly?

“I use intangibility a lot, but it’s not my only power. It felt like overkill to use more than that in my heists. So I didn’t.”

Tim groaned, “You were going easy on me this whole time?”

“Oh, definitely not. I’m sure you’ve noticed, but intangibility is arguably the most pain in the ass thing to counter. I’m being annoying on purpose.”

Phantom grinned, and Tim couldn’t help but analyze the full sight of him. Everything from his teeth to his ears was pointed, a sharp contrast to the wispy white hair that flowed smoothly in a nonexistent breeze. The most attention grabbing was a glowing green mark resembling a gash across his chest, roughly in the place where a hero would wear their logo. The sight of it made Tim’s own chest ache.

“I don’t think Batman is dead.” He said suddenly.

“What makes you say that?” Phantom asked, reclining on empty air. 

It wasn’t denial, not calling him insane or lost in grief. For the first time since his fight with Dick, Tim felt as though he could breathe again. “I know it sounds crazy, there’s no proof—”

“Woah woah woah,” Phantom reached forward, gently pulling Tim’s hands away from where he had started pulling at his hair. “Slow down. Walk me through your thought process.”

“It just…it doesn’t feel right. Not that I can’t believe it if he died, but this specifically doesn’t feel right. I’d feel it if Br-Batman was dead…there was a whole cloning facility where Batman’s body was found.”

That seemed to spark interest in Phantom’s eyes. “You think the body was a clone?”

“Why would someone as powerful and precise as Darkseid drop everything and kill someone he was in the process of cloning? Why was he even trying to clone Batman specifically? We’re missing something, and I think Darkseid is using everyone’s grief to cover his plan.”

Phantom propped his chin on his hand, deep in thought. “Darkseid…I’ve heard that name before. Does he have something to do with time or space?”

Tim practically sagged in relief. “He can travel freely through both, and has a host of other abilities that give Superman a run for his money.”

He snapped his fingers, “Ah, that Darkseid! Yeah, if he wanted Bats dead there wouldn’t be a body left. I’d bet my collection he’s lost in time somewhere.”

“Thank you!” Tim gestured wildly, “You’re officially the first person to hear me out. Like, is it really so hard to believe?”

“No probs, Detect-o. It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve heard, by far.”

“Exactly,” Tim huffed, leaning back and sighing. “Now I just have to convince the Justice League so they can go back in time and grab him.”

“Why not just get him yourself?”

Tim glanced over to where Phantom hung in the sky. “Unless you’re also hiding time powers in there, we kinda need the League to get to him. Plus I don’t even know when in time he is.”

“Lucky for you, I know a guy,” Phantom grinned. “The Master of Time messaged me this mornin’, something about stopping Batman from breaking the time space continuum. It’s why I’m back in Gotham so soon.”

“You…know the Master of Time.”

“Yep!” He popped the p.

“And they messaged you.”

Phantom hummed, “You can imagine how it went when I tried to confront Batman a couple hours ago. The new Robin’s a menace, if I was any slower you’d have to deal with a Phantom shish kebab.”

Tim winced. It was never fun to be on the wrong end of Damian’s katana. Still, he focused back on the insanity at hand. “So you’re saying you can just go back and rescue Batman right now?”

“Now that I know what’s happening, yeah. Clocky probably already has a portal ready for me. Batman will be back before you can say ‘Gotham’!”

It was inconceivable. To think, the living nightmare of the past weeks would be over, just like that. His brain was screaming at him that this was some sort of cruel setup, that there was no way Phantom was telling the truth. There had to be a catch somewhere, some kind of punchline in the sick comedy that was the life of Tim Drake.

But his heart, the part of him that just wanted his dad back won out.

“What’s stopping you? You’re not usually one to wait for a window of opportunity.”

Phantom rubbed the back of his neck. “No, but I distinctly remember waiting for a certain vigilante. I was wondering if…you’d like to come with?”

Tim’s jaw dropped. “You’re inviting me, a vigilante who has attempted to arrest you dozens of times…to travel back in time to save Batman, another vigilante who has tried to put you under arrest.”

“Emphasis on tried,” Phantom joked, before turning serious. “I mean it—it’s your family. Besides, it could be fun. You come with me on a time heist, instead of sitting back here worrying your pretty head off with all the ways things could go wrong. And you get to tell everyone else ‘I told ya so’ when you save Batman on your own.”

He tried to work his mind through what Phantom was offering. To be able to fix things, maybe not go back to the way they used to be (Damian might actually kill him if he ever wore Robin again) but to have Bruce back. It wasn’t even a question.

No matter how smart Tim was, how he tried to plan things in advance the way Bruce did, he never stopped being the lonely kid who would sneak out at night to shadow his heroes. When Phantom reached out to offer a hand, Tim didn’t hesitate.

“You’re wrong, though.”

Phantom blinked, firmly gripping Tim’s hand without hurting him. “About what?”

“I wouldn’t be saving Batman on my own. We’d be doing it together.”

A fanged grin matched his own, blinding him to the swirling green portal that formed around them. Before Tim could so much as wonder if he maybe should’ve messaged someone about what he was setting off to do, they were already gone.

— - —

This was supposed to be a oneshot, but it got a bit long so I decided to split it up.

I really love this au, but I noticed that everyone has a tendency to hone in on the angst so much that the characters behind it get a bit lost in the process. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I wanted to try my hand at writing the misunderstandings without making either of them at fault.

(Insert rant about how the whole point of soulmates is that this person is a match for you, so even if you fundamentally are not good for each other you still get where the other person is coming from. There's so much more angst potential in not being able to hate someone no matter what they do to hurt you, but I digress.)

But yeah, let the boys heal and be happy! Also this is the closest I've gotten to actually writing romance and that's not saying much XD

Here's the design I drew for Phantom Thief!Danny. Feel free to drop an ask, I'd love to ramble more about this :D

[katyawriteswhump]

I do, I do, I do 💝

For @steddieholidaydrabbles day 29 prompt, fairytale, and @whumpcember day 29 prompt, choked.

Rating: E; WC: 987 CW: sex, knotting, biting. Tags: Omega Steve, Alpha Eddie, fluff and angst, sex, fairytale-ish setting, cracky tbh, happy ever after. Summary: Omega Princess, Steve, has been conducting an illicit affair with devilishly handsome woodsman, Eddie. When his mother, the queen, announces an unwanted marriage for him, he has nobody else to run to…

💝💝💝💝💝

Steve stumbled into the forest, with his corset laced so tightly it choked him. He’d not intended to flee in this stupid pink ballgown. However, his mother had announced that he was to be wed to Lord Breedemhard.

At midnight tonight.

He ran.

Now, fear and cold congealed his blood. Mud clogged his silken slippers. Worse, the horses and hounds of his royal mother’s search party drew nearer. He was beyond exhausted, barely able to breathe… and now he scented another kind of beast, barrelling toward him.

They pounced, body-slamming Steve into a patch of fortuitously springy-soft moss. A wild-haired, mahogany-eyed Alpha pinned his wrists, growling:

“What’s an edible Omega like you, doing in a forest like this?”

“I… I…”  Steve trembled too hard to think. The Alpha licked Steve’s unbroken mating gland, then backed off, frowning.

“Baby, you’re scared. I know we didn’t arrange a tryst today, but I scented you and now I smell sadness. Don’t wanna play?”

Steve threw his arms around Eddie’s neck, told him everything: “I know our secret liaisons are a game for you, but I have n-nobody else.”

Eddie muttered under his breath. Steve, sniffling, braced for rejection. Then Eddie enfolded him tight, rocking soothingly. Steve cursed the corset more than ever, because he could barely feel Eddie’s kind caressing hands:

“I thought you were the one playing games with a lowlife woodsman, Princess.”

“Then I’m sorry! I know I can be a tease, even a bit of a bitch, but… I’m very much in love with you.”

“Seriously, you can’t mean—”

“I do, I do, I do!” Steve got right in Eddie’s baffled face, searching it desperately. “Tonight, I’ll have to say that to an Alpha thrice my age, after being punished for ruining my gown. Unless you’ll help?”

Not that Steve could hear his pursuers anymore. He wasn’t even that scared. Eddie’s comforting closeness overwhelmed his senses, as did Eddie’s words:

“I love you too.” He cupped Steve’s face and smiled, setting Steve’s heart flipping. “I didn’t dare hope. I ache when we’re apart… Mmmmf!”

With an un-Omega-like boldness, Steve initiated the kiss, which Eddie returned hungrily, plundering passionately to Steve’s depths. It was like being swept away over the rainbow… till Steve started seeing stars, and not in a good way.

Bloody corset! Can’t breathe!

Eddie broke the kiss. “What’s wrong? You’re safe now. They won’t find you.”

“Oh… um, crazily, it’s not mother.” Steve tugged his ballgown from his shoulders. “Omegas are supposed to have tiny waists and perfect deportment. This stupid corset suffocates me.”

Eddie nuzzled tenderly at Steve’s nape, while loosening the laces. As his breathing grew easier, Steve filled his lungs with Eddie’s potent Alpha musk. Finally, Eddie eased Steve out of the torturous whalebone cage and tossed it aside.

“Thank you!”

Steve whirled around so they could kiss again, and Eddie pressed him back into the moss. He’d never felt so loose and relaxed, so pliant and ready to play. Eddie’s nearness and kisses ignited a nectar-like glow inside him. The gush of slick from his cleft had him squirming with glee.

“Claim me now, Alpha!”

He anticipated a brush-off. To be fair, they should probably hide from his mother.

Instead, Eddie beamed wolfishly: “With pleasure, my Princess.” 

Eddie unlaced his britches, and his Alpha cock sprung free, weeping in a fashion that made Steve rather proud. Meanwhile, that candied glow became a nigh-torturous ache of emptiness. Fortunately, Steve’s tattered petticoats hitched up easily, and Eddie inserted his steel-rod of an erection between Steve’s wet folds.

“You sure?” whispered Eddie. They’d only played games before, and Steve was a virgin.

He gaped, nodded. Eddie’s tongue breached Steve’s mouth for another kiss the same instant that cockhead split him.

“Good?” asked Eddie.

“Sublime.”

Eddie nudged deeper, stretching Steve’s oh-so-wet-and-ready tunnel impossibly wide—plowing slow and sweet, while Steve adjusted, any slight pain fading. Steve soon rocked his hips, silently pleading. Eddie let rip. Everything disintegrated beyond the feel of Eddie inside him, kindling hitherto unknown sensations of rapture that built and built. Even better, Eddie made love—his adoring gaze penetrated Steve’s soul. All Steve could do was bask in it, whispering, “l-love yoooou… ooooh!”

The wondrous friction gradually grew too much, bordering on torture again. When an unexpectedly high-tide of it burst, Steve cried out, clamping so hard around Eddie that Eddie howled too. His knot caught inside Steve, and he stopped moving, while his dick swelled even larger, pumping out molten heat.

“Sorry, Princess.”

“D-don’t you dare apologise for giving me what I’ve craved since we met.” Steve loved this stuffed feeling as much as anything. He still wanted more: “Bite me!”

Eddie’s fangs pierced Steve’s mating gland, and the sharp pain robbed his breath yet again. He saw stars again too. They were almost as beautiful as his mate, whom they only briefly eclipsed.

Eddie nested with Steve in the velvet moss, his knot buried deep. He kissed Steve’s sore neck and smothered him with love, while in the distance, the search party danced in fruitless circles.

“I ruined their ball.” Steve snickered. “Thank you for ruining me.”

“You’re more perfect than ever,” whispered Eddie. “No more games.”

“One thing confuses me, tho’. How did you know we’d not be found?”

Instinctually, he’d trusted his Alpha to keep him safe. It was still befuddling.

“Sweetheart, I might look like a devilishly handsome woodsman. I’m also a wizard on the lute and… a powerful mage. I cast a protection spell when you told me about your pursuers.”

“Oh.” Steve let that sink in, then returned to enjoying the fullness of Eddie’s knot, while purring more madly than he’d believed possible. “Thank you, Alpha.”

A few hours later, Steve’s mother was handed his corset—covered in fake blood that Eddie had conjured—and presumed he’d been ravaged by beasts.

Steve and Eddie, meanwhile, returned to a cosy cottage, raised six pups, and lived happily ever after.

💝💝💝💝💝

(yes, um... sorry. Again. Set very loosely in the same universe as this fic, which could be read as following on, although the tone is rather different.)

tags: @wheneverfeasible 💚 My stranger things fic on AO3

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Vaggie Redesign! (1/7)

Welcome to my new quest of redesigning the entire main 7 Hazbin cast! First on the chopping block is Vaggie who I will be addressing as Evangeline/Van for the rest of this post.

I’ve designed a good 100+ characters in my lifetime so I think I can manage a decent moth lady.

First thing, she was supposed to be a moth. Why not keep her as a moth. Vivziepop is a coward. Second but much more important, she is not grey anymore!!!!! All colours I used were picked from this wonderful little Gaudy Sphinx moth so everyone thank you Gaudy Sphinx moth!

For her scars, she didn’t have nearly enough to begin with. What even is this.

She deserves som recognition for yknow. Killing people. And yes I know she has that whole thing where she thought Angel’s couldn’t be injured but these are from Lute when her eye got ripped out so! Checkmate. The X is supposed to resemble Lute marking her for death so sinners could notice it and then probably torture Van because betrayal yknow. The scar colours and placement on her neck are supposed to resemble angel blood and also the swoopy things exorcists have on their necks but imagine they got more like. Burnt into her skin. Also it’s not immediately recognizable as angel marks cause theyre moth colours anyway!

Her hair looking like wings was a cool idea though I’ll give them that. Obviously she can’t fly with her hair but it’s the silhouette that counts. Oh and her short hair was cuter so I just mixed them

Also her colours were ugly!! I love myself a good black and red—i mean who doesn’t—but we know of hazbins little addiction to that colour palette and why would I use just black and red when I can divulge into insanity and refrence @bluehazardanonymous’s colour wheel again!!!!!!!!

YAAAAAYYY!!!!!! I think the greenish red suits her a lot with her protective nature and honestly probably a little bit of envy from heaven stuff. Justified of course because genuine why is heaven like that. Also the reds are definitely red but theyre a little subdued so she doesn’t come off as incredibly angry and all that. Plus red can look very elegant and I think she deserves that. As for her dress I tried to keep it inspired based off the traditional dress of El Salvador while still using colours picked from the moth.

I also really wanted to include the lace from these dresses because it is genuinely beautiful but unfortunately my lace pattern was too big and got smushed when I tried to use it so the most I can do is show it of separately😞

The blue also is a much cooler colour of course so it gives that little bit of approachability to her character. I am latino and I think I can safely say for every other latino/latina person the spicy latino character archetype is stupid and she needs more depth than that. Give us more Charlie and Van being sweet and having Charlie pull her weight instead of just standing off to the side crying all the time.

Hopefully you all enjoy the new design, I am working on a certain ssomebody next 🐍 and I intend to get it out soon (hopefully)

I am not Salvadoran and I am not super familiar with the culture there so if I messed up anything with her dress and whatnot please don’t be afraid to call me out on it so I can improve in the future. Thank you!