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#-to protect his newfound loved ones
littlegalerion · 5 months
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I see all these "barbie doll" and "boy band" Dark Urge characters, and all I can do is laugh at the fact so many people want to ignore the canon Dark Urge is a reasonably older dragonborn sorcerer with the voice of a tired librarian that just mentally snapped after seeing someone litter in the non-fiction section.
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pawphin · 10 months
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long ramble in tags tldr: kindness rules
#was it genocide that got them to the human world or was it her kindness and promise at the expense of her past#who was ultimately the reason the goldy pond kids were able to survive and escape#who got stabbed by a demon and was in a coma for four weeks trying to protect her newfound family#ultimately shifting his perspective on humans and hunting in general and becoming a driving force in their efforts for freedom#who became best friends with the literal ''evil blooded girl'' and was able to come up with a sound solution to demons needing human meat#in order to maintain their forms#do you think norman would be happier knowing he had to be the sacrificial lamb killing children with his bare hands and fully executing it#do you think ray would be happier if emma had simply let him die instead of giving him a firm dose of reality and helping him to#live a life full of love and support and kindness#of course she isnt perfect and i most definitely would change a lot of things if i could but this is just one of the many comments i see#when youre blinded by hatred you cant think objectively#i understand that norman went through freakish amounts of hell but to put it in my perspective: if i were a demon#i highly doubt that i would fully understand how intelligent humans truly are#you know those videos of people boiling crabs alive and saying ''it doesnt hurt them''#there would probably be a lot of rhetoric around that nature and all i would know is eat human fingertip = go play tag#so why would my parents deserve to die? what difference is there between cattle like pigs and cows in our world to humans in theirs?#anyways. im sorry for liking stories where kindness prevails and opens doors to opportunities previously thought imaginable#i hate constantly seeing this stuff when looking up tpn and it irks me it really does
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liliacamethyst · 11 months
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Web of Secrets - Miguel O'Hara 
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Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader
words: 3.7K
warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut
Part I Part II Part III Part IV
In your universe, you are known as the Sun Spider. It all started on a school field trip to a solar energy research center, where you were accidentally exposed to a spider that had been subjected to intense solar radiation. You woke up with a white-hot surge of power, and your life changed forever. You donned a suit of pure white, taking the name that reflected both your newfound abilities and the brightness you brought into the world: Spider-Sun.
Your ability to harness solar energy and transform it into powerful blasts or create protective shields made you a formidable superhero in your home city, Nea Yorkey. Your ability to bring light to even the darkest corners of your city earned you the love of its citizens.
However, everything changed when you were suddenly pulled into the Spider-Verse.
Upon arriving, you were greeted by the gruff leader of this interdimensional team of Spider-People, Miguel O'Hara. His reputation preceded him - the genius intellect, the imposing figure, the gruff demeanor. Everyone respected him, and some even feared him. You, on the other hand, were drawn to him. There was something about that guarded demeanor that called to your own sunny nature.
You became an integral part of the team, fighting off anomalies and working hard to maintain the balance in the Spider-Verse. And despite Miguel's stern exterior, you felt yourself falling for him.
One mission was particularly rough, and you found yourself alone with Miguel in a safe house, nursing your wounds. His usually stern face softened as he tended to your injuries. The distance that he usually maintained was nowhere to be seen.
"Thank you, Miguel," you whispered.
He looked at you, his usually hard eyes soft. "You fought well, mi sol."
There was a moment of silence, a strange tension hanging in the air. Then, Miguel leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was filled with unexpected passion.
In that moment, you were not the Sun Spider, and he was not the Spider-Man 2099. You were just two people, seeking solace in each other.
Afterwards, as you laid side by side, Miguel turned to you, a serious look on his face. "This...this can't be more than what it is. Just...you know, stress relief," he muttered, his voice just above a whisper.
His words wounded you. Naturally, they did. He had reduced your relationship to mere stress relief, as if you were some object devoid of feelings. Yet, in spite of it all, you fell for him. Perhaps you were naive, even foolish, but you didn't care. You yearned for him and were ready to accept any fraction of affection he was willing to offer, no matter how small.
During the day, as you fought alongside him against the anomalies threatening the Spider-Verse, his attention toward you was sparse. He mostly shared only necessary information, barely making eye contact. Sometimes he didn't speak at all, and you and the rest of the team would receive mission orders and briefings from Lyla, his AI assistant.
But at night, when the two of you were alone, he became a different person. He'd whisper praises into your ear, telling you how exceptionally you fought, how much he desired you. He showed you his hidden vulnerability under the cover of darkness, the sheets their only witness. He'd gently stroke your hair and peppered your jaw and temple with kisses until you fell asleep, only for you to wake up the next morning to an empty, cold spot where he once lay.
This cycle - his coldness by day, and the fervor by night - repeated itself relentlessly for months.
And so, this is how you find yourself: disoriented, frenzied, and on the verge of tears, seated on the couch of your best friend, Peter B. Parker, in Earth-616. Cradled in your arms is his sweet daughter, Mayday, who, with her innocent touch, tries to console you. Yet her wide eyes dart anxiously to her father, reflecting her own alarm at your distress.
Peter rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe we should wait until MJ gets home?" he suggests, then, with a furrowed brow, he asks, “Have you tried talking to Jess about this?”
You shake your head vigorously. "No, I haven't told anyone. I have no idea what to do," you confess, your voice breaking.
Peter, ever the caring friend, gently takes Mayday from your arms and sets her down. He turns back to face you with a sympathetic gaze. “Do you..eh.. know who the father is?” he inquires softly.
You shake your head again, even though deep down, you know the truth. “The father is out of the picture. He doesn’t know, and he never will because he doesn’t want kids,” you whisper, fighting back tears.
As you and Peter sit down on the couch in his cozy living room, you find a sense of comfort being around him. His experience as both a superhero and a parent seems like it could be a beacon in this storm you're facing. The room is quiet, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall.
“You know, Peter,” you begin, your voice almost a whisper. “I’m terrified. What if the baby has powers? How am I going to protect them, especially if...if I can’t stop fighting anomalies?”
Peter looks thoughtful. “That’s a valid concern. First, you should know that you don’t have to do this alone. There’s a whole community of us, and we stick together. If the child does have powers, she or he will be badass like Mayday, right?”
You nod slowly but then anxieties pile on top of each other in your mind. “But... how can I hide this? Nobody and I mean nobody is supposed to know that I’m pregnant. Especially not...” You trail off, not finishing the sentence.
Peter rubs his chin, deep in thought. “We could look into modifying your suit, maybe talk to some tech geniuses in the Spider-Verse about creating something that can shield or conceal the pregnancy.”
You roll your eyes. “That kinda defies the ‘nobody is allowed to know ‘ordeal, Peter. You have to promise me that this stays between us.”
“I promise,” Peter says sincerely.
Silence fills the room again, and then you voice another fear. “Peter, what if...what if I’m not a good mother? What if I mess this up?”
Peter smiles warmly. “You know, I had those same fears when Mayday was born. I think it’s normal for any parent. But, take it from me, the fact that you’re worried about being a good parent means you’re already on the right track. You’ve got a good heart. Trust it.”
You look down at your hands, fingers interlaced. “Thank you, Peter. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“You’ll never have to find out,” he says with a reassuring smile. “We’re family, in this weird, Spider-Verse kind of way. But maybe… and I am sayig this as a father myself… reconsider telling the father. I can’t imagine any guy wanting to give up this.” He says, pointing to his precious daughter playing with a napkin she found on the floor.
"Maybe you should reconsider telling the father," Peter's words are echoing in your mind like a haunting melody. A part of you yearns for that possibility. Perhaps you're not alone in this. Maybe, just maybe, Miguel wants this as much as you do.With newfound resolve, you set off for the Spider-Verse headquarters, expecting to find Miguel tucked away in his office, immersed in maintaining the spider verse or as he calls it "arachno- something-multiverse-thingy” or something similar to that.
Upon reaching his office door, you pound on it sharply. No response. Frowning, you knock again, a little harder this time. When silence continues to greet you, you slowly turn the doorknob and peek inside. There he is, hunched over his desk, lost in a world of numbers and codes.
"Miguel, I-" you start, but his sharp voice cuts you off.
"No," he interrupts, his tone cold. "Did I say you can come in? Dios mio, why are you always so damn clingy?"
His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stare at him, taken aback by his blatant disregard for your feelings. You can feel the beginnings of tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but you will them away.
He doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it like that. This mantra plays over and over in your head, like a broken record. You take a deep breath, forcing down the hurt his words cause.
"Look, Miguel," you begin, struggling to keep your voice steady. "There’s something we need to talk about, and I think it's important for you to listen to me."
“Fucking hell, woman! What exactly don’t you understand. I’m busy. I don’t care about your little problems, right now.” he barks, not even looking up.
“Miguel,” you speak up, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, “ I’ve never asked anything from you. Not once have did I ask you to stay, to feel the same I feel, to fucking talk to me when people are around. Please all I am asking you is to just ... listen to me, fpr once.” Your voice grows stronger as you speak, a determined fire igniting within you.
Miguel finally looks up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, he seems taken aback by the resolve he saw there.
He rubs his temples. “Can we do this later?”
“No!” you shout. “It’s always later with you. You’re like...like a ghost. Just a figure in the hallway. I don’t need a figure, I need a person! I need someone who listens when...”
He glares at you, his eyes narrowing. “Okay, okay I will listen just not now. Whatever it is, it can wait.”
“No, it can’t,” you retort, your voice shaking a bit. “Why is it that every time I try to talk to you, you just brush me off? Am I that insignificant to you?”
He stands up abruptly, the chair skidding behind him. “This? This is what you want to talk about?” he says with a tone of annoyance. “Look, I have a million things to deal with and-”
“And what? And I’m not one of them? Just five minutes, Miguel! That’s all I ask!”
The room is tense. Your heart is racing. His eyes are fiery. It's a standoff.
“And what is so important that you have to disrupt everything right now?” he challenges.
Your breath catches in your throat. This is it. You're about to say it.
“I...” you stammer. “I need to tell you that...”
Suddenly, the door to the office swings open and Jess storms in.
“Miguel, we have a major issue in Sector 12! The anomalies...” she starts, then catches sight of your tear-streaked face. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”
Miguel seems to shake off the tension and slips back into commander mode. “No nothing important. What’s happening in Sector 12?���
You can't believe it. Just like that, he turns away. It feels like your heart is being squeezed.
Jess starts rattling off data and scenarios. The two of them are talking, but you don’t hear it anymore. All you can think of is how you almost told him. How you just wanted five minutes.
Your hands shake and you quietly step out of the room. The door closes behind you, and it feels like a chapter that you can’t read has been sealed away.
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The next day you are on Earth-8311, an anthropomorphic animal-dominated universe. It's the home of Peter Porker, the Spectacular Spider-Ham, and you can't help but find it amusing.
The mission: to transport an anomaly, which resembles an enormous floating jellyfish, back to its home universe. It's been pure chaos here, and you are determined to set things right.
The team: Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker. You're all in your suits, eyes sharp, and webs at the ready.
"Alright, Spiders. Let's round this jelly up and send it home," Peter B. Parker takes charge, shooting a web towards a nearby building.
You swing alongside him, your thoughts a whirlwind. The world around you blurs - the animal citizens, the bustling cityscape, the strange yet familiar surroundings.
The anomaly appears before you, thrashing and pulsating as it floats through the sky. It releases blasts of energy that ripple through the air.
"Watch out, Sunny!" Gwen calls out as she dodges a blast.
You, however, are a split second too late. Your reflexes are off, your movements sluggish. The blast sends you spiraling towards the ground.
Hobie swings in and catches you mid-air, his guitar strapped on his back. “Get it together, Sun!” he shouts over the noise, his punk-styled hair waving wildly.
You shake off your daze and look up to see Peter B. Parker shooting webs to pull the anomaly back down, while Gwen is deploying a device to open a portal back to its home universe.
Your heart races as you focus on the task at hand. You need to get this right, not just for yourself, but for the life you’re now carrying. Your suit seems to glow even brighter in the chaos.
With a final combined effort, you manage to lasso the anomaly and push it through the portal. The anomaly disappears, and the portal closes behind it.
The team regroups on a rooftop. Gwen is catching her breath, Hobie is tuning his guitar, and Peter B. Parker gives you a concerned look.
“Are you okay?” Gwen asks, her voice laced with worry. “You weren’t yourself up there.”
The weight of the secret you’re carrying feels unbearable. But you're not ready to share it.
“Promise me you won’t tell Miguel about this,” you say, your voice barely audible.
Gwen raises an eyebrow, while Hobie crosses his arms. Peter B. Parker simply nods.
“Nah, Bossman doesn’t need to know about this,” Hobie says, and there’s a firmness in his voice that is strangely comforting.
Back in the HQ, your head spins, and your stomach feels like it's doing somersaults. You mumble a quick excuse about feeling nauseous and practically sprint to the nearest restroom.
Meanwhile, Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker head to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.
As they sit down at a table with their trays, Gwen breaks the silence. “Is it okay if I say that this mission was kind of easy? Like, I’ve seen Sunny take down Doc Ock from Earth-818, and she did that without any problem. So what was that today?” Gwen’s concern is apparent.
Hobie, munching on a sandwich, nods in agreement. "Yeah, it's like her spidey senses were jammed or somethin'. Never seen her like that before."
Peter B. Parker looks thoughtfully at his sandwich, then glances up at Gwen and Hobie. He’s torn, having promised you to keep your secret but also wanting your friends to understand why you were off your game.
"You guys remember when she fought Morlun on Earth-001? She was a totally smashin’ it, and today, she nearly got turned into spider-paste by a floating jellyfish. That ain’t right," Hobie adds.
Gwen’s eyes suddenly widen. "Oh my God! Do you think she’s in trouble? Like, something from her universe? Or maybe she's having an identity crisis! Should we stage an intervention?"
Peter B. Parker clears his throat. “Maybe she’s just having an off day.”
Gwen’s eyes narrow as she scrutinizes Peter. “You know something, don’t you?”
Peter scratches the back of his head, obviously uncomfortable. “Nope, no idea.”
Hobie puts down his sandwich and leans in. "Oi, mate. Spill your guts. There's something dodgy going on. She's always been our burst of sunshine, lifting the mood. But now she's... dimmed. What's going on with our Sunny, Parker?"
Before Peter B. Parker could answer Gwen’s barrage of questions, Jess - Spider-Woman - appears, her belly showing. She takes a seat at the table and, oblivious to the serious conversation that was taking place, asks them about their latest mission.
"So, how did your mission go?" Jessica asks, while munching on her Burger.
"Nothing to report, Jess," Gwen answers, a little too quickly, her face all sunshine and false smiles. Peter simply nod in agreement.
“Yah, all good!” Hobie chimes in, flashing a grin that seems a little too bright.
“How about you? How are you holding up?” Peter asks Jess, trying to steer the conversation away from the mission.
Jessica shrugs, not overly concerned, and bites into her burger. "'M good. You know,  I'm so glad I can finally eat a burger again. At the beginning of my pregnancy, practically every food made me nauseous, especially after swinging around on missions.”
Suddenly, there's a moment of collective realization among Gwen, Hobie. It’s as if their spider senses are tingling in unison. They exchange knowing looks, all of them silently putting the pieces together.
Gwen’s eyes are wide, Hobie’s eyebrows are raised, and they both turn to look at Peter, who simply nods.
Jess, noticing the silent exchange, squints at them. “What is up with you guys? You’re acting weird. Well, weirder than usual.”
“Uh, nothin’!” Hobie says, a little too quickly.
“Yeah, just tired from the mission,” Gwen adds, trying to play it cool.
Jess rolls her eyes and stands up. “Alright, weirdos. I’m gonna go find some normal people to talk to,” she says jokingly and walks away.
After she leaves, the trio leans in.
“Sunny’s pregnant, isn’t she?” Gwen whispers.
Hobie's eyes are as wide as saucers. “That would explain everything!”
Peter B. Parker nods. “We need to be there for her, but remember, it’s her news to share when she’s ready.”
They make a pact to support you without pushing you to reveal anything before you're ready.
As you walk back into the cafeteria, you find your friends huddled together. They break apart when they see you and welcome you back with smiles and light conversation, but something in their demeanor is different but you can’t put your finger on it. They are being more attentive, considerate, and frankly, a little too curious about your well-being.
"Are you sure you're okay, Sunny?" Gwen asks for the third time since you sat down. Her concern is genuine, but her intensity is slightly off-putting.
"Yeah, do you need anything?" Hobie offers, his eyes gleaming with unspoken curiosity. "Food, drink, or maybe... pickles?" Pickles? Thats oddly specific.
There's a burst of laughter from Gwen, and even Peter is suppressing a chuckle.
"What's up with the pickles?" You ask, looking at them suspiciously.
"Oh, nothing!" Gwen says, a little too quickly, trying to hold back her laughter.
"Hmm, pickles and ice cream, a weird combo, innit?" Hobie wonders aloud, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
Again, there's suppressed laughter, and you look at each of them, a realization slowly dawning on you. You turn to Peter, your gaze steady and serious. "You told them, didn't you?" Peter looks shocked, but quickly composes himself. "I didn't exactly tell them, per se," he confesses, "I might've confirmed their suspicions when they asked, but they figured it out on their own. Spider senses and all that jazz.”
Before you could respond, Gwen and Hobie jump in, both talking over each other in an attempt to apologize.
"We're sorry, Sunny," Gwen says sincerely. "We didn't mean to invade your privacy, it's just that... we're worried about you. Please don’t be mad."
Hobie nods, adding, "And we're right behind ya, whatever comes our way. We've got your back, no doubt about it."
You are happy, while the situation isn't ideal, but at least you're not alone. You have friends who care about you and, despite their unconventional way of showing it, they are there for you. You smile, comforted by their concern, and grateful for their support.
"Yeah," you finally say, "I guess we’re gonna need a lot more pickles and ice cream around here, huh?"
“Sooo...who’s the dad? Is he hot?” Gwen, leaning on the table with her elbows, asks shyly after a while.
You let out a long sigh, “He’s very hot... but also a colossal jerk.”
Peter raises an eyebrow. “You took my advice and talked to him then?”
You shake your head, your eyes starting to well up. “No, I tried. But he wouldn’t listen to me. He was busy, and I guess I wasn’t important enough. So, the baby won’t be either,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
Hobie's eyes narrow, and his face is flushed with anger. "Who's this bloke, eh? I swear on me nan's grave, I'll give him a right proper earful! No one treats our Sunny like a tosser and gets away with it!"
Gwen jumps in, her eyes wide with speculation, “Wait, is he a Spider? Is it Peter? Or the other Peter? Or—”
“Guys, guys!” you cut them off, your voice cracking. “Please, it doesn’t matter. He made it clear where I stand, and it’s not with him.”
There’s a silence that settles over the table as your friends look at each other and then back to you. Their faces are a mix of concern, sadness, and frustration.
Peter B. is the first to break the silence. “You don’t have to go through this alone. You’ve got us. If the dad doesn’t want to step up, then he’s missing out on something amazing.”
Gwen nods, her eyes firm with resolve. “Yeah, we’re family. We’ve got your back, no matter what.”
Hobie, still fuming, finally calms down enough to say, "All you gotta do is whistle, love, and we'll be there in a blink. Even if it means thumping some manners into this mystery idiot."
You can't help but crack a small smile, despite the tears. You’re overwhelmed by the love and support your friends are giving you.
“Thanks, guys. You don't know how much this means to me.” 
They all reach out and there’s a group hug right in the middle of the cafeteria. You didn’t know how much you needed this until it happened.
Part 2 “Webs of Fate”
a/n: Thank you guys for all your love on this fic so far.I really appreciate each like, comment, reblog <3. I still can’t reply to your comments so please if you want to tagged (and are not already) comment on part 2 and I’ll do my best and add you.Also I am open to requests, critic and wishes. Have a wonderful day. xx
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anantaru · 3 months
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— cute things they do unintentionally
including wriothesley, zhongli, neuvillette, diluc x gn! reader
꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, established relationship, neck kisses, lots of physical affection
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— wriothesley + always walks closest to the street
in the early stages of your relationship, wriothesley has shown the first, out of the many following, indications of his overall protective nature towards you— and do not misunderstand him, because obviously he wasn't making it somewhat overbearing.
he knows you are capable of doing things on your own, but he wants to be the one who does them for you instead. it fills him with joy, and the duke finds himself squeezing his eyes shut, indulging in the memories and thoughts and hope that they would never cease to invade his newfound paradise.
so to speak, it's sort of a way to show you his love in a contrasting kind of sense other than telling you his affection through words or physical touch— with his heart-melting gestures and tender warmth, wriothesley will stop to walk for a split second before softly pulling you farthest from the street as he walks closest.
it was silly— and romantic, and there's a drop of silence before you hear him hum in merriment, his eyes sparkling like the stars.
full of feeling, your cheeks were poignant of a flaming prickle, your whole body burned like fire at his touch as you eagerly listen to what story your boyfriend was telling you about, his smile bringing you the most lustrous light when you entangle your fingers into his arm to press his frame against you.
and suddenly, your lips are tingling with the desire to kiss him, his lips as pink as pink delights. what's the sweetest part about it all was that wriothesley wasn't doing any of this intentionally— in fact, it had always come down to the way he has been all of his life, protective and sheltering, benevolent to the people closest to his heart.
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— zhongli + kisses your forehead whenever you meet
"hello, my love," zhongli's face lights up the moment he sees you, and it's a lot more personal by how particularly he smiled at you— because before catching your frame in midst the busy streets of liyue, his facial features were stern and a little frozen, although when he finally finds you, he smiles and it takes away his cold instantly, a slow upturn of his mouth revealing small dimples around his sides.
"i missed you," he admits, and zhongli moves closer before capturing your cheeks in his warm palms, planting a subtle kiss on your forehead as he presses you against his chest firmly— his golden eyes bright enough to make even broken glass glow and shimmer like a treasure on its own again.
you mumble out through a chain of muffled words at the slightly tight embrace of your boyfriend, "i missed you too," and listlessly wrap your arms around his waist, "in fact, i missed you more," you tease as he presses dozen of little kisses on your head.
as much as zhongli would love to hug you for what he sought out to be eternity, he knows he cannot remain like this forever, at least not while being crowded by the people of liyue— although pondering about it more deeply, he figured that theoretically speaking, he could be able to hug you from day to night without letting you go, but people might start looking at you both so that'll be a negative and turn things uncomfortable.
"you know it's impossible for you to miss me more?" he slowly pulls you off his chest before pinching your cheek, "i long for you day and night," as his grin shines in tandem with the dancing joy of his eyes, unable to tear their focus away from you.
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— neuvillette + can't stop worshipping you
after a long, arduous day consisting of responsibilities, you plopped onto the giant, comfortable bed you shared with neuvillette before you felt the mattress slightly dip under the added weight of his body as he climbs over to lean one arm around your frame.
as he does this, his face instantly burns into the nook of your neck before he begins to caress it— obviously in those moments he was content with you, starting with a handful of soft, warm kisses until he could feel you smile, or notice your body heat raise.
it's pretty clear his senses were sharp, you cannot hide anything from your boyfriend, even if you tried.
you yawn out, opening your arms for his body to properly nestle in before wrapping your limbs around his frame to keep him close, "what did i do to deserve this?" you whisper sarcastically, squeezing him a little tighter into you, "is something the matter?"
neuvillette hums deeply before smothering one hand from your chest to your hips, his lips stretching into a lazy smile, creating a swirling haven on his handsome face, "nothing at all, everything is fine," he assures you with another kiss, his hot breath fanning over the dampened skin on your neck.
basking into the comfortable engage of your arms around his frame, he continues, "i have simply missed what's mine, that is all,"
"and you deserve this," you hear him mumble, "each and every day to be admired and loved,"
he places a kiss on your shoulder, the softness of his lips compelling, "i want to give you this," as he slowly continues to slide his lips over your collarbone, full of passionate crescendos.
your skin trembles and goosebumps arise on your neck as you unwind to his skilled. tender interludes, precisely in neuvillette taking care of you, shooting you a gentle smile before he searches for your lips next.
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— diluc + likes to hold your hand all the time
it doesn't matter where the both of you were or what activity you participated in, because for neither diluc nor you this was something out of the ordinary anymore and began to become a necessity— like breathing, he required your touch, and his heart fluttered every time he felt your energy invade his.
your laugh was his favorite sound and your voice was the last tune he needed to hear before he'd close his eyes, always awaiting the flicker of longing in your caress.
but before you have found each other in this relationship, the master of the dawn winery has never considered himself to be an overly touchy individual, in fact, he was everything else but pleased whenever someone would become way too comfortable with him and overstep any boundaries.
what's funny about love is that how fast it can change things in someone— beyond looks, touches or shared smiles, there were feelings that only you two were able to understand.
diluc hadn't realized how easy and effortless it can be the moment you meet your soulmate, it's transparent and pure and you cannot get enough of them, it's useless to even try and you want to feel them again and again, until their warmth swathes through your skin and intertwines like dancers in a ballet.
in the beginning, it had started with quick and easy placements of his palm on your back or around your shoulders, but after a while, diluc wanted to turn it a little more intimate— he didn't say anything or mention it to you, but one day at a silent night in mondstadt, when he looked at you, really looked at you, he held your hand, his thumb tracing your knuckles in a silent confession of love and affirmation.
to diluc ragnvindr, the act of falling in love was the acknowledgement that he was in the presence of someone so special that it aches his heart, a journey with unexpected twists and turns— for the first time and in that moment, he knew that you were deserving of love to the fullest, without holding back.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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emilicious0 · 3 months
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Oooh, I got a request!
Can I get a Lucifer X reader headcanons or fic where reader is like fascinated with his wings? Bc let's be honest, it angels were real, I definitely would be fascinated with their wings and he got three pairs of them!
lucifer x gn! reader
pt.2 !!!
after rebuilding the hotel, charlie's dad, lucifer himself, decided to stay with his daughter. done with living alone for so long, he started to create a bond with all of the residents (except alastor). with you, however, he finally found a true friend.
your friendship began when he visited the hotel before the battle, and charlie introduced you as one of the sinners looking for redemption. you were one of the first ones to ever believe in charlie's idea, and seeing how you supported her made him respect you. after the battle with the extermination army, he saw you protecting his daughter, which led to you two officially becoming friends.
of course, there is more to your friendship than just love for charlotte. you shared many similar interests. you were always interested in art and all of its aspects, which lucifer gladly discussed with you (he was amazed by different kind of art aspects that humans created). also, you happened to be a good listener, so the king of hell used you as his personal problem dump (not that you minded).
you were surprised by how well you two got along but weren't complaining about this newfound relationship whatsoever. lucifer was kind, protective, and someone to trust.
this evening was surprisingly peaceful by hell standards, and you decided to spend your time on the balcony, reading. you don't get many chances to do that peacefully in a place like this, so you were making the most of it.
while sitting there, you heard the flapping of wings, which made you tense up for a second, only to hear a familiar voice:
“well, look who it is!”
you looked up and couldn't hide the fascination forming on your face. lucifer landed on your balcony with three pairs of his beautiful wings behind his back.
when he landed, he did not hide them, noticing your shocked expression. you stared at him, which made the man blush a little. he loved it when you gave all your attention to him.
“y/n?” he asked, and you snapped out of your shocked state.
“can I touch your wings?”
you slammed your hands over your mouth, embarrassed and worried that this question was too rude.
lucifer got more flustered but smiled rather shyly and came closer to you.
with a low whisper, he said: “you can.”
you stood up and carefully put your hand on his shoulder, then on his right top wing. lucifer gasped quietly but stood still.
meanwhile, your hand moved across the wing, then lower to the second one. you carefully touched his feathers, shocked by the softness.
the man was melting at the feeling of your touch, loving how your fingers brushed his wings. he never really wanted that moment to end.
for this one moment, you both looked into each other's eyes, and sparks flew between you.
both of you wanted to say something, but words stuck in your tongue. you felt lucifer's hand on your waist and sensed your cheeks warming up.
your hands moved to his shoulders, and you both came closer to each other, somehow enchanted by one another.
“dad!” charlie's voice came from behind you, and you jumped away from each other. “there you are! I need your help! y/n, come with us too!”
“y-yeah, char, coming!” you said and followed the princess, but stopped to look at lucifer. “you coming?”
he, red in the cheeks, nodded and slowly followed both of you.
today, you two realized your feelings.
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austinbutlerslovers · 1 month
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Feyd Fantasy 4
Madness & Mayhem
Label Mature 18+
Summary
The Baron has fallen severely ill. Feyds older brother Rabban is flown in for a reunion of the Harkonnen men. With the role of leadership looking like it will transition to Feyd Rautha if the Baron dies the entire galaxy awaits in suspense.
Feyds main obsession is for you and your well being. Though he never outwardly shows it Feyd has a deep attachment to his unborn and goes out of his way to ensure you are both healthy and safe. Even if that means sacrificing his uncle the Baron to do so.
Starts Harkonnen brothers reunite Ends Deep rooted sexual depravity
🚨 Depraved Smut 🚨
coercion•manipulation •rough sex•Feyd in heat•passionate sex•forced lactation• multiple orgasms •simultaneous orgasms •cream pies•aftercare
🫦Smut consultant @burnthheparaphilia
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⚔️ Feyd Fantasy Series ⚔️
Part 1•Part2•Part 3•Part 4•Part 5• Part 6•Part 7
⏳Extreme Dune Inaccuracies ⌛️
💝Softie approved (non-violent) there’s one swift kick
Part 5 Will be Series Finale 🙏🏻
⚔️ Multiple anonymous requests combined ⚔️
-Feyd obsessed with the pregnancy -Feyd protective/aggressive over pregnancy -Manipulating the Baroness into a sexual kink -Rough semi public sex -Love making passionate sex -Feyd is madly in love with the Baroness -Feyd Going insane over the Baroness’s milk. -Feyd Breastfeeding from the Baroness -Feyd calling the Baroness his bovine
*Feyd really needs milk ?? thank you for the requests ☺️🙏🏻
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Madness & Mayhem 
Feyd waits with twenty armed guards at the front of the fortress. An ornithopter swoops in and lands on the arrival pad creating strong gusts of wind.
Out of the craft steps Feyds towering older barbaric brother Rabban. A pale bald gargantuan figure of a man, he has deep set hunter eyes his face rests in a permanent scowl.
He is the tasked enforcer to secure the Barons empire. So animalistic and savage his given name is “the beast” due to his outbursts of uncontrollable rage.
He sees his stoic younger brother at the entrance of the fortress with his guards. Still the most handsome Harkonnen now dressed with a more regal flair than the plain black uniform he is accustomed to. Feyds confidence has increased tenfold Rabban can see the newfound look of determination blazing in his eyes.
They have been raised in competition from child hood. Feyd out performing Rabban at every single opportunity. It hurt him terribly when they were younger to always be cast aside for the more calculated and handsome Feyd Rautha. That was until he came to the realization it was Feyds destiny, it was his right. How else could someone be so perfect.
Feyd watches his older brother bounding down the gangway to greet him. Feyd feels a nagging of annoyance as he clasps his hands behind his back. He stands taller as his brother grows near.
Rabban has failed to secure the spice fields on Arrakis his entire campaign. The spice supply and profits have been decreasing at an alarming rate. The Baron was already preparing to have Feyd arrive on Arrakis and be the savior of the people after Rabbans tyrannical rule.
“ BROTHER!” Rabban yells excitedly. “My eyes are so pleased to see you even under these circumstances. Look how well you are dressed how was your birthday celebration!” Rabban asks gleefully.
Feyd begins to walk with his hands clasped behind his back. Rabban matches his pace “All went well brother, uncle allowed me a real warrior for my 100th kill unsheilded ,and I received the ancient stones of ascension” Feyd revels in sharing his achievements over his brother.
“Our uncle?“ Rabban laughs out loud “let his precious Feyd Rautha engage in unsheilded combat!” Rabbans laughter continues even louder and more tormenting. Until it ends swiftly with a kick to his ribs from Feyd. The hit causes a direct injury Rabban falls to the ground in pain.
Feyd stands over his older brother enjoying watching him gasp and struggle to breathe from the harsh blow. “For the embarrassment you have caused the Harkonnen name on Arrakis you should be kissing my feet not insulting me brother.” Feyd hisses. ”Now that I am set to be Baron” Feyd pauses and steps his foot next to his brothers head. “Kiss or Die” Feyd commands as he kneels over him.
Rabban hesitates to kiss Feyds boot. He is overcome with humiliation that his younger brother is superior to him in every way possible. Rabban does however feel the shame weighing on him of weakening yet another family legacy.
He reluctantly turns his head and kisses Feyds boot in reverence. “We are even now brother ” Feyd asserts standing tall. “Come let’s go see uncle” Feyd leads the way back into the fortress as Rabban follows clutching his ribs
Clever Boy
Feyd and Rabban stand on either side of the Barons bed in the medical wing. The healers have determined he does not have a contagious disease, but his body is heavily contaminated with toxins. They do a skin test but find no reaction from contact. The poison they fail to find has already metabolized in his system.
The Baron is attached to a breathing apparatus. An intravenous mechanism pumps opium to control the pain. His fat body looks even weightier on the normal size medical bed hovering in place. His fingers are decorated with opulent silver rings, the remnants of Feyds birthday celebration. His hands rest across his chest.
“What happened to him why does he look so …purple?” Rabban asks out of curiosity. “Strange disease perhaps” Feyd says casually.
“What if he was POISONED?!!” Rabban yells as he continues to unravel the mystery “It looks like the effects of the dried root plant from Arrakis, there is no mistaking that purple color!” His eyes widen in fear as he clutches his chest.
Feyds impressed his thick brother even narrowed it down to the right plant. “Who would poison our dear sweet beloved uncle? Feyd asks with a mocked concern. “Whoever it is I WILL KILL THEM!” Rabban yells and lifts a medical table tossing it across the room. It crashes into a wall contents scattering across the floor.
The guards rush in and check for the immediate danger only to see Rabban falling to his knees wailing as he clutches his head. Feyd signals them to leave.
Rabban drags on his knees to the bedside of his uncle and grabs his purple hued hand “UNCLE OH WHY !YOU ARE OUR ONLY FATHER YOU HAVE RAISED US TO—” his wailing is cut short by Feyd pulling him up gently by his shoulders “You mustn't touch him too long remember? Diseases?” Feyd says hastily.
Rabban snarls in disgust looking at his hands and runs to the room basin scrubbing them furiously. “Good boy” Feyd says with a grin as he approaches him. His brother may be a raging maniac but he doesn’t want to risk him dead.
Feyd checks the vials of decontaminants. “This one should work much better” Feyd says handing Rabban a solvent that neutralizes toxins. “Thank you brother” Rabban says looking to him graciously.
Rabban was Feyds only childhood companion. Feyd out smarted him ruthlessly at every turn to gain favor from his uncle. Whatever bond they had was broken once the Baron pitted them against each other for his favor.
Feyd noticed how his uncle always underestimated Rabban. Without the pressure of failure Rabban’s nerves would decrease and his rage would cool. He could work effectively, but under pressure Rabban would crack every time. If he could keep Rabban calm during stressful events he would be an unstoppable force.
After Rabban scrubs his hands. He suddenly drops to his knees in front of Feyd. “Feyd I pledge my life to your service you are the future Baron of Giedi prime. I will do everything in my power to serve your reign, I will die for you brother” he says almost in tears.
Feyd slaps the back of his bald brothers head “Get up I know, come meet my Baroness pregnant with my heir” he says hiding away his contentment.
As Feyd and Rabban leave the Baron stirs with a wheeze he was only pretending to sleep. The opium dulls his pain but not enough. He listens intently whenever he hears an important visitor will be arriving . He knows his death is imminent and he spies to confirm his suspicions and loyalties.
‘The cold calculated Feyd Rautha will inherit the throne after all just as I foretold’ the Baron thinks to himself pleased. He lets out a weak startled cough coming to a realization. ‘Ah the cleverness of the boy.’ He sighs. The Baron realizes exactly who poisoned him and why. He presses a button to alert his mentant .
Tumultuous Family
You are sitting in a spacious open viewing room overlooking the large center fortress courtyard. Resting in a chair you enjoy a new book from Feyd ‘The Barons of Giedi Prime.’
Feyd wraps his knuckle at the large open door and you look up from your book and smile. Feyd is standing with a much larger imposing man dressed in Harkonnen military armor. You recognize him from the meeting hall portrait.
As they approach you put your book down and stand to greet them “My brother Rabban this is my wife and Baroness” Feyd says eyeing you with pride. Rabban looks slack jawed.
You are a healthy beautifully shaped woman with radiant skin and full head of hair. Your eyes and confidence immediately intimidate him. He was expecting a pale bald tamed Giedi Prime woman he can not contain his shock.
“Baroness you are stunning. I had no idea my brother could have a wife as beautiful as you are. I pray to the ancient ways the future heir will inherit your striking resemblance. You are like sunshine brightening a gray sky, your beautiful body will grow a healthy child. I am honored you will bear a Harkonnen, you… “ Feyd firmly grabs Rabbans shoulder to stop his unfiltered ramblings about your looks.
“What he is trying to say is congratulations” Feyd interjects. Rabban is already lost in thought transfixed by the thought that you are pregnant with an unborn.
He stares at your abdomen then back to your eyes “May I touch?” he asks reaching to your womb in fascination. Before you can even utter a word Feyd yanks him back full force “You do not touch what is mine brother” he snaps angrily.
Rabban bows his head respectfully and Feyd coldly gestures him to leave. Rabban exits the room quietly and shuts the door behind him. The silence is deafening after the interaction.
Feyd goes to your reading table and pours himself a water to drink. He sits and you join him. After a few moments of silence he formulates a way of giving you a piece of what you’ve been yearning for. His tumultuous family history.
“My older brother Rabban though vastly different from me is in fact related to me by blood.” He says with a contemplative smirk. “He was so unfit as a son my parents hastily sought to have another” you almost question his statement as vanity until you see he’s serious.
You decide to pry now that he has opened the conversation to his parents. Especially being tormented about his mothers death being matricide. “So you were your mother’s favorite?” you ask gently.
“My mother didn’t have a favorite, she didnt love any of us. She did as she was told. She was a Bene Gesserit” your stomach pulls in apprehension at his cruel inflection of the word.
“Rabban came out ….differently , obviously not the superior son they were expecting. After him there were several failed pregnancies. My father began having my mother pumped full of hormonal drugs. One cluster of drugged cells finally developed into a fertile embryo… and here I am” he sets his empty cup down tracing his finger around the rim to distract himself from his own painful admission.
Realizing his mother was a Bene Gesserit entails Feyd was rarely nurtured or loved. As a Bene Gesserit you do not attach to your child in love because it is considered to detract from the order. You are a vessel that serves a greater purpose and may need to lie or even harm your child to lead it to the path that aligns with the order.
Feyd slumps down in his chair and folds his hands. You see his deadened eyes lost in the complexities of a traumatic memory. You come and sit on his lap. He allows you space and you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his head. He reaches around your waist clinging to you as he still stares off into the space of the courtyard.
You press a kiss onto his forehead transferring feelings of love into his mind as you caress your fingers at his temple. He relaxes instantly closing his eyes and resting against your bosom. He feels safe as he presses his cheek along your breasts loving the comfort and warmth.
The way you nurture him so lovingly always causes maddening thoughts to form in his mind. He doesn’t understand why he must corrupt something so good but he has already set in motion a way to satisfy his newfound dark desire. “Come let’s prepare for dinner with my brother. I will need him as an ally in the coming days” he says trying to shift his mind back to rational thought. He helps you to stand from his lap and you both leave to his chamber.
Liquid Lactation
Unbeknownst to you Feyd has been invested in the health of you and his unborn to an obsessive degree from the start. He assigned a Doulah who confirmed you were implanted with his unborn.
At the verification he immediately coerced her to be a spy for him without any limit to your privacy. She is loyal to her leader and reports all details to him without reservation. He was informed the unborn is smaller than expected but healthy. However the pregnancy was draining vast amounts of iron and minerals from your blood.
He immediately had the meal consultant switch your sustenance to iron rich and enhanced with trace minerals for your consumption. You are completely unaware but he notices you are not tired as often and your energy has returned.
Feyds newest dark desire is at the forefront of his mind each time you hug him or press your warm breasts against his face. He wants to drink milk from you. He withholds his small sounds of pleasure when he clings to you and your breasts press against his face. He wants nothing more than to escape into ecstasy with your warm milk spilling down his throat.
When he divulges his sick obsession to the doulah she only wants to accommodate him. She believes the underlying cause is severe maternal neglect. Maybe the maternal affection will heal him in some way.
When she informs him your milk will not be ready until the final month Feyd conveys he does not want to interfere with his unborns supply he wants to create his own for a short time.
She readily comes up with a solution to appease her Na Baron. She is able to track down a water soluable substance that will force your lactation for up to six hours.
It is used for bovines when the milk harvest decreases on Giedi Prime due to toxic conditions.
It will be completely safe for a pregnant human female at the correct dosage. He readily accepts the translucent liquid studying its contents in the vial with a grin of satisfaction on his face. A new emotions over takes his body that he can’t describe. He thinks it is joy.
Just The One
As you get dressed for dinner in the basin room he unclocks a secret compartment in his kink cabinet. He retrieves the hidden vial and slips it into his pocket. He plans to secretly drug you into lactation tonight and have his fill of milk.
Once you emerge fully dressed his eyes fall to seduction. You’ve worn your hair up and have on a dark crimson red gown with sleeves that rest at your shoulders. The gown is low cut and snatched to your curves. “My Baroness” he says alluringly caressing you all over the shimmering fabric.
He trails his fingers along your covered breasts leaning in and placing a heated kiss on your collar bone. The ornate necklace you wore to cover your love marks is quickly snatched from your neck by Feyd.
He sucks onto your skin forming even more bruises where he finds space. He steps back to admire you trailing his thumb along the marks that make a collar. He smiles in satisfaction taking your hand and leading you to dinner.
As you enter the dining hall it is a quiet affair just you Feyd and Rabban at the expansive dining table. The Lord in waiting and advisors are in a frenzy completing the decrees and changes necessary to instate Feyd as the new Baron while his uncle lays dying.
Feyd sits at the head with you to his left and his brother to his right. The food arrives and is placed in front of each of you. You look at down at your plate to see your third serving of seared bovine meat with root vegetables of the day. You begin eating the vegetables first.
Feyd slips the lactation liquid into your drink with inherent skill. It goes unnoticed by all. He slides the vial in his sleeve and continues reaching for your knife cutting up your meat for you.
As you innocently take a sip from your glass Feyd wickedly smirks, his eyes glinting with delight. Realizing his ‘bovine Baroness‘ will be producing milk for him tonight hardens his cock. He palms himself under the table at the mere thought.
During the dinner Feyds attentions are focused entirely on you. His brother Rabban eats and rambles about the subservient ‘rats’ on Arrakis that he hunts and kills daily to protect the spice harvesters and the ever elusive rat leader Muad'Dib.
Feyd watches you finally empty your glass and hums to himself with a naughty smirk. He slips the empty vial from his sleeve placing it hidden under the ledge of his plate. You look over at him and smile your brows raise in curiosity due to his mischievous mood for the evening.
Rabban continues rambling and changes the topic one more time to himself before finally asking:
“How many children do you plan to have with my brother Baroness? How many nieces and nephews will I see running through the Harkonnen halls “ he smiles to you as he takes a bite and chews his dinner awaiting your numbered response.
Feyd finally pays attention.
You look up surprised and completely caught off guard by the question. You have not been initiated by the Bene Gesserit to have more than one. With the specialty of this child you realize all of your focus and energy will go into instructing the child in the ways on your own.
Once an adolescent the child will be warded by the Reverend Mother who will advance the inherited skills of the genetically supreme child to surpass all of the Bene Gesserits.
Feyd knows none of these limitations.
“I would like to focus all of my attention and energy on just the one” you answer honestly.
You glance over to confirm with Feyd and instead see defeat in his eyes.
It would give him no greater joy than to have several children with you. Growing up with only one tyrannical brother he wished he had other siblings.
Finding out you only want one is even more difficult for him to accept. It awakens the barbarian in his blood. He will get you pregnant as many times as possible. He smirks to himself how could you even deny him when he’s pinning you down thrusting you full of his seed.
Once the meal is completed and the table is cleared you bid farewell to Rabban. After walking only a few paces from the dining hall Feyds desires overtake him and he can not contain his sexual urges on the long walk to his chamber.
He pulls you into an empty darkened state room. It is reserved for hosting large banquets. Six stone pillars support the large atrium in the enormous space He pushes you against the nearest pillar kissing you hard as he unbuckles his pants and steps out of them.
He bunches your dress up to your hips as his fingers reach between your legs finding your panties and pulling them to the side. He presses his chest against you and pushes his fingers into your mouth. His panting grows heavier as he collects your saliva and pushes it into you folds.
Before you can even think he thrusts himself inside of you . He sheaths himself all the way to the hilt. You cling to him and moan into his ear as he lifts your legs around him and presses his hips between yours.
He holds your body up with his and begins fucking you against the pillar. You are moaning as he continues to rail you against the beam. He stares at your neck and sucks more bruises, the pain almost unbearable from his double markings on your tender neck.
You are overwhelmed by the intensity of his thrusts wracking through your body. You almost beg for mercy until your clit begins to throb as your nipples harden against your gown. You become so wet as he continues passionately thrusting it begins to feel pleasurable. He stares into your eyes conveying his wild unyielding love for you.
You love him too. You panic at the overwhelming intrusion of the thought and try to change your mind. You close your eyes to enjoy the carnal pleasure instead. His voice regains your attention “ look at me”’ he commands.
You open your eyes, as you do he presses his chest to yours and thrusts his cock its deepest inside of you throbbing your core. You cry out from the sensation of him fully sheathed inside of you. His eyes gaze unto yours full of his undying love for you.
It sends a chill all over your body. You become so aroused you wrap your arms around his neck and cling onto him, your face is pressed to his shoulder. He re-grips higher under your thighs and plows his cock into you against the pillar. Your moans in unison fill and echo throughout the giant space.
As you orgasm he cums with you. Your walls milk his cock as he spills his seed. His grunts against your neck soften as his thrusts grow weaker. He stays stilled inside of you panting and looking back into your eyes uncertain if he should describe to you what he’s feeling.
He removes his cock as he settle you to the ground. As you both redress he speaks up “I will want more than one child with you.” He asserts.
It makes you go mute you know the order may never approve of this and you turn away from him not knowing what to say.
“Why do you mock me with your silence woman?“ he says with concern. “Because we have not even had the first” you admit “Then I want seven” he says pulling you closer, holding the back of your neck.
He places his hand over your heart “You will be a good mother” he says tenderly looking into your eyes “How do you know if someone will be a good mother” you ask naively.
You look and see the anguish you’ve caused to form on his face remembering his childhood. You quickly shush him pulling him closer wrapping your arms around him. You caress his back as he works through his pain.
After a moment of silence you try and cheer him up “Maybe you can tell I will be a good mother because of the way your uncle hates me so” you say sweetly. Feyd grins menacingly “he will will learn to accept you …or he will die.”
Bovine Baroness
As you study your body in the mirror, you notice your breasts have doubled in size. You turn to the side cupping them to be sure. Your pregnancy hasn’t even begun to show.
With confusion on your face you cover in Feyds black robe tying the waist as you return to him in his chamber. He is sitting up in bed waiting for you. As you settle next to him he peeks over at your enlarged breasts and maddeningly craves for them.
He pats his lap and you come to him. He easily pulls you to straddle him. He sees the concerned look on your face “What worries you?” he asks. He can already guess as he strokes your cheek with the back of his hand.
You just bring his hands to cup your prominent chest. His entire body caves in as he smiles lustfully without giving away his intentions. The pill is taking effect and he’s going to milk you dry.
He slowly parts open your robe exposing your full breasts. His cock hardens beneath you from the sight. He tries to contain his heavy breathing.
He slowly cups your swollen breasts in his hands “There is milk inside” He says breathlessly feeling how they’ve grown heavier. “But it’s too soon“ you confess. “Well go see your Doulah in the morning” he says absentmindedly.
You see his breathing increasing even more, his eyes transfixed on your chest. He purposely kneads your soft full breasts in his hands. He pulls you closer and presses his face into each one softly caressing his cheek against them. The scorching heat of your skin warms his face. His length hardens solid
“Disrobe for me” he commands. He is near salivating wanting to drink from you.
You rise into a kneel and pull your robe from your shoulders. He grips the sheet on his lap bringing it down and releasing his firm standing cock. It slaps against his abs before settling straight.
He grabs your waist and pulls you close until your entrance is hovering directly above his cock. With your breasts in his face he squeezes them together in his hands “such a good mommy look at all this milk” he says softly peering up at you.
You feel so aroused by him and yet confused why your body is creating milk at this time. Your core aches for him. You watch as he opens his wanting mouth and sucks your nipple inside.
Your walls clench involuntarily as shocks of pleasure run down your spine. Your breasts are so full they tingle as your nipple hardens in his mouth. It sends chills all over your body as his warm mouth sucks you so gently. You feel his teeth graze onto the tender flesh making you softly moan.
He releases one and goes to the other sucking it in his mouth and tenderly biting down on the bud. “Feyd it feels so good“ is all you can say. “I haven’t even started yet” he says peeking up at you through his lashes with a smirk played on his lips.
He places your hands where his neck meets his broad shoulders. He begins squeezing and kneading your breasts a second time. He sucks them hard until your nipples are so taught they feel like they will burst.
All of his sucks and licks send shocks directly to your core. Your folds are soaked for him. He places his hands on your hips and pulls you down slowly penetrating you onto his large cock. He’s harder than ever as he pierces through your walls. Once you settle on the base you gasp and hold tighter to the back of his neck.
He leans in and presses his lips to your throat placing small kisses across the front. He grips your thighs and guides you with his hands making you move filled with his cock. He stretches you open rocking you back and forth on his lap as you sweetly moan.
He places his hands under your thighs lifting you slightly before settling you back down on his length in a rhythm. Your walls throb each time you settle on the base of his cock. Your core pulls tighter as you give into him lost in pleasure.
He parts his legs wider and slowly pushes his cock up inside of you as you settle down on him. You moan out his name as your mind goes fuzzy. You tilt your head back in satisfaction as you form a new rhythm working into each other until you both start panting.
As you grind slowly onto each other you let out sounds of pleasure in tandem. He watches your face in ecstasy as you make love to him. You moan in the air louder when he thrusts into you slightly harder. The smacks of his skin to yours growing louder with his increased stamina.
Your tits begin to leak due to your arousal and you look down stunned. He stops his thrusts as warm droplets pitter off your nipples onto his abs and into his lap. You are making a mess all over him you try to get up but Feyd holds your hips down firmly.
A shiver runs down your spine seeing the psychotic look in his eyes. This is what his depraved mind has been waiting for, his pupils slowly expand to black.
He goes insane and lunges his mouth onto your breast latching to your nipple. He cups your breast and whimpers as he sucks and his mouth begins filling with your warm milk.
He think he is dreaming as soft whines emit from his throat. He takes swallow after swallow wetly sucking milk out of you. Feyd releases your nipple from his mouth with a wet pop and tilts his head back gasping.
A deep guttural moan emits from his throat as his cock twitches inside of you. He tilts his head up hungry for more and grabs your other nipple pulling it into his mouth. He makes pathetic whimpering moans as he suckles from you. He begins to powerfully fuck you thrusting his cock up inside if you as he nurses. He wants to suck you dry as he refills you with his cum.
His sucking becomes sloppier as he thrusts into you with wild abandon. He isn’t focused on anything his cock and mouth are being too satisfied at the same time.
Your clit swells and throbs as you become so wet you are soaking his lap. You let out moans he sucks and fucks into you. He switches and latches on your other nipple again.
His teeth are tugging on you as he nurses. He’s becoming violent sucking your nipple harder and wanting more. You cradle the back of his head to calm him and he lets out a sickly little moan. You slowly rock back and forth on his cock with his thrusts “Feyd I’m going to cum” you cry out.
He swallows his last mouthful completely draining your breasts of milk. His body trembles and tenses as he lets out a range of deep moans. You cradle his head to your chest as his cock ejaculates inside of you. You orgasm sliding up and down on him milking his cock hard. He clings to you with his eyes shut tight as you ride through your orgasms together.
You slow to a still in his lap both of you panting heavily. His body twitch’s and you caress your hand on the parts of him that spasm involuntarily. He had a mental overload of emotions. You look into his dazed out eyes down to the milk that still covers his chin and his chest. You want to clean him.
You carefully slide him out of you and climb off of his lap. He lays down wearily he can hardly keep his eyes open he reaches his hand for you and trails his thumb down your jaw “my bovine baroness” he says with a milk drunk smile. You smile back at him and stroke his temple.
You leave his side to collect a cloth. When you return he is laying peacefully asleep. You clean him of all or your milk dabbing his mouth and his chin softly. His face is so soft and angelic lips curved in a smile eyes shifting in a dream.
You pat the cloth down his abs and cock. Once he is clean you climb into bed behind him and place your arm over his ribs pulling him against you cuddling your face to his back. You quickly fall into a deep sleep.
Long Live the Baron
Feyd awakens from a nightmare he sits up in bed in the dark breathing heavily in a light sheen of sweat. It wasn’t the usual sex dream of you. In this nightmare you were screaming being taken away from him by force.
He quickly reaches and checks you are by his side. Feeling your soft warm skin under his hand he lays and presses a kiss to your neck. He loves you with a newfound ferocity after drinking from you. He pulls you closer to him and rests with his head at the back of yours inhaling your scent trailing his fingers through your hair. His heart rate returns to normal with you in his arms and he rests his eyes.
There is a sudden sharp knock at the door making Feyd sit up. He doesn’t answer he waits for his Page to intercept. Once his Page collects the message he speaks through the door knowing Feyd is a light sleeper and will already be awake. “m’Lord It is your uncle you must come to his chamber at once” his page relays.
Feyd gets dressed in his traditional Harkonnen attire. A plain black uniform with chest pockets and a high collar. He knows the outcome of this urgent request. He kneels next to you sleeping, and plants a kiss on your temple. He places his hand on your womb to his unborn. This is the moment he has waited his entire life for he leaves his chambers heart racing with adrenaline.
He is brought to the Barons main chamber and enters a somber scene. All twelve of the Barons advisors and his Mentat with their heads low surrounding the bed of the clearly deceased Baron Vladimir Harkonnen. He is dressed in traditional black attire clutching the Harkonnen crest at his chest. Feyds brother Rabban is trying to remain stoic but every so often his sniffling can be heard.
Feyds newly appointed Lord in waiting makes the announcement “Siridar Vladimir Harkonnen is dead, long live the Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen“
“LONG LIVE BARON FEYD RAUTHA HARKONNEN!” They all chant bowing in reverence to Feyd.
His breathing increases as his eyes dance wildly. He glances around the room at all the advisors and his brother bowing to him. Seeing his uncles dead lifeless corpse in the back ground he feels the elation rising in his chest. This is real, his honor fulfilled he is now the reigning Baron of Geidi Prime. He has a maniacal look in his eyes as the corner of his mouth twitches into a smile.
Next Chapter->
Feyd Fantasy Part 5 Endless Empire (Series Finale💜) Plot =Baron Feyd | Feyd Supremacy | Harkonnen Heir
Special thanks warranted for following the series this far so happy to entertain you 😭🎉 anon requests for part 5 fic are closed TBA soon☺️
⚔️ Fic Tag List: @burnthheparaphilia @elvismylove04 @lindszeppelin @obsessedvibee @abswifey @jessica987 @hardcoredisneynerd @faegoddessog @austiebuttbutt @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @purejasmine @i5uckersblog @phil2135561 @lovereadingfanfic @steph-speaks @rougegenshin @maloribarnes1999 @meetmeatyourworst @moony-artemis @xxxstormyninixxx @prettypinkblogger @thegabbyh @magicovento @aoi-targaryen @austinswhitewolf @skinny-baby-4eva @mimsie95 @the-wanderer-2022 @jakesullyissopookie @francis-writes @shiranai-atsune @berlinalv @everyonelovesavalet @dacreshoney @caroline334 @szapizzapanda @berlinalv @landlockedmermaid77 @moonsoulk @sophroniaclark @emeraldsgirl @aaaaaaamond @cooliosthings @alana4610
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ghostgirl101 · 1 month
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I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting
Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ
|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||
A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha... Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩
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You can't escape fate.
It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.
At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.
"You aren't resting."
Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.
"What troubles you?"
You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.
"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.
But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.
"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"
"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."
"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"
You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.
You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.
"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."
Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.
"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."
"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"
"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."
The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.
"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."
And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."
Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.
"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."
You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.
"Won't you tell me?"
Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.
"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.
"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.
"Not like you do," you answer steadily.
"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."
Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.
"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."
"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."
"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"
Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.
You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.
"A queen?"
"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.
"To being desired?"
You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."
"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."
You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.
"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."
"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."
"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."
══════════════⊹⊱≼ fin ≽⊰⊹══════════════
Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie
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emthimofnight · 3 months
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Name ✨Stellar the Hedgehog✨
Age Varies based on what age I draw her, but let's say 16!
Pronouns She/Her
Basic Description The product of Project Stellar—a secret government operation aiming to perfect Project Shadow—Stellar is a genetic experiment combining the DNA of the Ultimate Life Form and the fastest thing alive. Designed to be a living weapon, Stellar was born in a hidden facility where she would have been raised to be an unstoppable weapon for the military. Thankfully, Shadow the Hedgehog (with help from Rouge the Bat) discovered her existence, destroyed the lab, and rescued her as an infant. Shadow then went on to begrudgingly inform his long-time rival, Sonic the Hedgehog, of their newfound child, seeing as she was technically just as much Sonic's problem as she was Shadow's. From there, the duo (along with help from their friends) raised Stellar as their daughter, sheltering her from the knowledge she was created to be a force of destruction for her masters. Along the way, Sonic and Shadow found themselves truly falling for one another, dissolving the barriers they had placed between one another as rivals, finding new appreciation for each other in their new parental roles.
Stellar herself is a bright, warm-hearted person. She has a strong sense of justice and never shies away from standing up for what is right. She takes after Sonic in personality, always cracking jokes and finding it hard to sit still. Despite this, she inherited Shadow's finesse and ability to plan out her choices, not to mention his abilities to utilize chaos energy. She has a love for figure skating, ballet, and make up (thanks to Auntie Rouge!), but don't let her feminine side fool you, she is not afraid to get her hands dirty! She would love nothing more than to spend her day smashing badniks into the ground with her skates if her dads would let her! Stellar loves both of her parents dearly, but sometimes wishes that they wouldn't be so protective of her. After all, what could they possibly have to be worried about?
Extra ✨Stellar's favorite color is red. ✨Her favorite food is chili dogs. ✨She is bisexual. ✨Her favorite flower is lavender, because it reminds her of home! ✨She learned how to skate from Shadow. ✨She calls Shadow "papa" and Sonic "dad". ✨She desperately wants to make her family and friends proud. ✨Her best friend is Camellia the Cat, the daughter of Blaze and Amy. ✨She loves racing Sonic, but is frustrated he always lets her win. ✨She can be VERY impulsive when angered, much like both of her parents! ✨She is SUPER dense when it comes to romance. She has no idea ✨Camellia has been in love with her since they were little! ✨The inhibitor rings she wears keep her powers under control, but they also prevent her from truly mastering them. ✨Her powers are designed after collapsing stars/black holes. Extremely destructive to both herself and everything around her. ✨She has no awareness to the extent of the latent power inside her.
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yoonia · 3 months
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A Christmas Fix — 01 (m) | kth
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⟶ Summary | One-night stands are supposed to be nothing more than just. It shouldn’t have involved seeing those two red lines looking back at you weeks later without a name or a contact number linking you back to your mystery man. Nothing more but his face. The unforgettable face that would sometimes appear in your dreams at night. So unforgettable that you immediately recognise him the moment he walks into your family home at Christmas, hand-in-hand with your older stepsister.
With special collab prompt: "the holidays aren't so bad with you around."
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⟶ Title | A Christmas Fix
⟶ Pairings | Taehyung x female reader
⟶ Genre | Secret Baby!au, Second Chance!au, Strangers to Lovers!au
⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; including: alcohol consumption, mentions of pregnancy, vomiting/morning sickness, surprise babies, miscommunication, profanities/swearing, minor body insecurities (implied), some family drama; involves multiple explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, one night stand, drunk sex (with clear consent), minor dom/sub dynamic, brat!reader, size kink, rough sex, light choking, restraint, hair pulling (M, F), protected & unprotected sex, fingering (F), oral sex (F), clit play, breast play, stripping, biting, minor hand job/groping, grinding, masturbation (M, F), dirty talk, implied pain kink, praise kink, body worship, marking, multiple orgasms (M, F), overstimulation.
⟶ Word count | 25,363 words (of 54,773 words)
⟶ Story Notes | Part of the Jingle All the Way collaboration with @leahsfavefics, @kithtaehyung, @kpopfanfictrash, @cybrsan, and @sugaurora | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs) | Moodboard was done by me | Posted in: January 31st, 2024 by @yoonia
⟶ Author Notes | I know that this is so late, but December has always been a rough month for me and this time it continued until January. I hope you can still enjoy this story regardless. Happy belated holidays and happy new year, my loves!
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⟶ Jingle All the Way collab masterlist | A Christmas Fix: next chapter ⇢
⟶ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi
⟶ Read on AO3
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One month ago…
You already had everything perfectly planned out when you first thought of this trip some long months ago. 
Everything. 
From your personal bucket list full of wonderful things that you wanted to experience during your time away and the places that you wanted to see, down to the smallest details that you could possibly think of to be able to enjoy every single moment of your secret getaway.
Just like the red dress that you had chosen to wear tonight. The dress you had meticulously picked and bought to wear on the trip as you went to celebrate your newfound freedom. 
In your well-thought-out plan, you were supposed to have landed on the tropical island you were headed to by sundown. The warm tropical breeze should have been embracing you at the start of your trip instead of the cold, chilly wind flowing right outside these walls. 
By this evening, you should have already settled in nicely in the comfort of your hotel room right by the beachside. The calming sound of the rushing waves outside your window was the sound that you should have been listening to while resting from your long flight. 
You had pictured yourself embracing your freedom in a foreign land. To feel the soft sand slipping between your toes as you were playing chase with the rushing waves, and to find calmness that you could only get far away from the treacherous city where you came from. 
The trip was meant to help you mend your soul. Perfectly planned out as an escape from reality and leave all of your past hurt behind before starting a new chapter of your life. 
And yet, no matter how thoroughly you had it all planned out, somehow life simply found a way to mess it all up. Just like how it had always been. So perhaps you shouldn’t have been so surprised when it happened to you again, just when you thought that you had everything under control. 
You should have seen the signs long before everything started crumbling down.
The sky that kept growing darker ever since you left the city. The constant turbulences happening during your first flight that made the trip feel intense. The unsettling feeling you met the moment you landed in this place for your transit. The constant announcements echoing through the airport about flights that were getting delayed and cancelled while you were getting no news about your transit flight’s departure. 
You should have been prepared to face reality, keeping in mind that life hadn’t been so nice to you lately to let you slip away that easily. Yet your stubbornness prevailed. And after your most recent predicament, you needed this trip to happen. You needed to be right. 
After all, you have made it all the way here. It would have been impossible for you to return home, wouldn’t it?
So you remained in denial and were so stubbornly holding onto hope that you would soon be taken away from this place towards your dream destination. Even when the world around you seemed to be falling apart. 
But after long hours of waiting, you were finally forced to accept your fate, letting go of any hope you had left to escape this place when they officially cancelled the rest of today’s flights due to unresolved weather issues. Including yours.
“I’m sorry, but we really can’t promise you anything at this moment. There will be no flights until the storm passes and our pilots are cleared to fly again. Until then, we have nothing to tell you.” 
The staff’s swift response to your inquiries about getting on the first flight available to take you to your destination only left you with a dead end. Even flying back home was no longer an option, only because that would only mean that you were admitting defeat. 
And that was how you ended up here tonight, stranded right between the daunting city that you called home and the paradise that you wished to be in until an unforeseeable future. Your dream of enjoying the night in the comfort of the beachside hotel room overlooking the wide, clear ocean, had been replaced with the reality where you had to spend overnight at the airport’s transit hotel that the airline staff helped book for you. 
You released a sigh as you leaned back against the elevator wall. Recounting the events again only brought back all the terrible mood you were having. And it didn’t help that the last message that your roommate sent you only reminded you of your setback. 
From Skye: Just checking on you on your secret getaway. I hope you’re having a blast right now. I wish you’d tell me where you’re heading so I can have a good reason to be jealous. Be safe!
Another sigh came from your lips as you wondered—
Now how am I supposed to answer her text? 
Before you could find an answer, the elevator doors opened as it reached the lobby downstairs. You put away your phone as you stepped out, and immediately got lost in your thoughts. Your mind once again getting too loud as it keeps you company. 
At first, you had no intention of hiding this trip from her. Yet all the circumstances leading to this weekend had made it hard for you to share anything to anyone.
You were planning to wait until you were finally there so you could surprise her with pictures from the beautiful beach or your comfortable hotel room. Showing her the pretty nighttime scene from the tropical island would have been a nice way to flaunt your secret getaway rather than boasting it when your fate had been filled with uncertainty. 
But instead of having an evening walk down the beach, you were trudging across the lobby inside an airport hotel, accompanied by the sound of your heels clicking on the marble floors instead of having sand soiling your feet. 
And the view outside the window that you got to see earlier had been nowhere close to the pretty beach with its white sand and rolling waves. Instead, you had a clear view of the dark night sky, painted with the raging storm and its blaring thunders so strong they almost caused the entire bedroom to shake. Neither showed any sign of calming down any time soon, leaving you with no other choice but to do what you could to enjoy your temporary stay.
And you were going to start doing so by having a quick drink to help you unwind for the night. 
The red dress that you were wearing might seem a bit excessive for a nightcap, but for a short while, it helped you forget where you were. It felt almost as if you were walking in a dream as you strolled down the lower lobby in search of the hotel bar. 
Entering the hotel bar, however, became another wake-up call. 
The bar was quite large for a transit hotel, accommodating the patrons filling the place tonight. You had hoped that you could have a dance or two with a friendly stranger before retreating to your hotel room to rest, yet the closed-off lounge area had more space filled with box seats than the open dance floor. The seating area was the only place in the bar which was dimly lit, allowing the guests some privacy while they settled in with their drinks. 
The small chandeliers glittering from the ceiling were far from the hanging lights that you pictured hanging in a beachside bar. Just like the one place you had seen pictures of while planning for your trip. The lights you were seeing here made the entire space beneath seem luxurious, spreading a soft golden glow over the wary faces trying to enjoy the night. 
The pulsing bass that came out of the speakers was enough to drown the sound of the violent storm happening on the other side of these walls, further helping to create an illusion that you were in another place. That you were somewhere else instead of being stranded inside an airport hotel, together with all the strangers who seemed to be facing the same fate as you did. 
You made your way towards the main bar, suddenly feeling hyperaware of your surroundings. Even without looking, you could feel people’s eyes following your movements. Yet you paid no heed to them. You were only here to quiet down the raging storm happening inside your head, after all. 
A strong scent of old wood took over the bar area. Mixed in with the excessive scent of air fresheners and cleaners, it was enough to remind you that you were miles and miles away from the beautiful island where you had been so desperate to be. 
Smoothing your palms down your red dress, you took one empty seat at the bar. You caught the bartender’s eyes as he walked past, and within moments, a glass of strawberry daiquiri ended up in your hand. 
This feels nice, you wondered to yourself as you sat back and tried to relax.
One sip of the sweet alcoholic drink was all that it took to refresh your mind. As the warmth from your drink ran smoothly through your body, any doubt and wariness you felt began to fade. 
The next sip of the drink managed to ease your thoughts down a bit more. It helped push away the reminders of your troubles to the back of your mind. Finding calmness, you took another quick look at your surroundings.
The seating lounge seemed to be filled with guests more than the main bar was. Stranded travellers like yourself. At first glance, the nicely dressed men in suits made it seem like you were in a bar downtown. As if they were nothing more than a group of businessmen seeking leisure on a Friday night with drinks. 
It only took you looking a few seats away from them for the illusion to shatter. Your eyes fell on a group of men and women wearing their summer clothing who were making a toast, acting as if they were at the peak of their vacation. 
Looking at the scene made you realise that you weren’t the only one feeling miserable tonight. You wondered just how badly these people here needed to forget. How many of them here might be similar to you, stranded in an unexpected situation while trying to escape reality? 
You raised your glass to hide your bitter smile. The smooth liquid continued to flow through your body and you slowly began to find some peace of mind. Before you knew it, you had finished your drink, though you weren’t exactly ready to return to your cold bedroom. 
“Can I order you another glass of drink?” 
A deep voice invaded your senses after a long period of silence, and it was coming from your side. You had been far too deep in your reverie that you didn’t even realise that someone had taken the empty seat right beside you at the bar. 
Curious to see this friendly stranger, you slowly turned around to look at him. And what you saw in him nearly took your breath away. 
A tall, lean man was sitting there. His slick hair had a few curls at the end of each strands, and he had combed them back, leaving nothing more than a few stands framing his handsome face that looked almost as if it had been sculpted by the fine hands of masters in art. His sharp nose and jawline drew your attention, while his deep and soulful eyes that appeared like pools of rich mahogany drew you in, as if he was hiding a story behind his intense gaze. But it was his plump lips that formed into a smile which caught your eyes the most.
At your silence that stretched out while you were busy being captivated by him, he raised his eyebrows. It made you realise that he was waiting for your answer. An answer to a question that you had so obviously missed. 
“I’m sorry?” 
He tilted his chin to point at your now empty glass. “You look like you could use another glass, and I’d love to get one for you,” he said with an amused tone of voice. 
Once again, his deep, velvety voice hit you deeply. It resonated through your body, and a shudder ran down your spine. You refused to believe that he was able to cause this effect on you solely through his voice or his pretty smile. 
But how else would you explain the reaction that was drawn from your body? 
I don’t think I’m that drunk already, you wondered.
It was probably the way he spoke to you which affected you so much. The way he was asking a question with pure confidence. As if he already knew your answer, and that it would be impossible for you to refuse his offer. 
And he wasn’t completely wrong about it. 
What remained from your sullen mood immediately shifted in his presence. And while you have no intention of turning him down, you decided that you were not going to make things easy for him. 
“An interesting offer that seems like such a waste for me to refuse,” you sweetly said to him, smiling as your eyes fell on his empty hands. “But how would a woman feel at ease to accept such an offer from a man who isn’t even holding a glass in his hand?” 
He squinted his eyes at you, which only made his gaze feel more intense. “Are you afraid that I might be planning to get you drunk?” 
You softly laughed. “Not sure if I should be so worried about that. Getting drunk tonight has always been my initial plan all along,” you coyly said, hiding the fact that it was never your intention to get wild tonight. But his appearance intrigued you enough to change your mind about ending the night so soon.  
The mysterious man remained oblivious to this as he laughed with you. His wide, almost boxy grin mesmerised you in an instant and you were once again left speechless. 
He waved his hand to grab the bartender’s attention. It was nothing more but a simple gesture, yet you were somewhat drawn to it. To him.  
While he greeted the bartender, you took the chance to have a better look at this man. You noticed that he was a bit different compared to the other men that you saw around you earlier. 
Dressed in a black jacket over his plain white shirt, he didn’t seem as sophisticated as the stranded businessmen in their flashy suits sitting together at the bar’s lounge. Yet he had a different level of confidence which was enough to make your cheeks feel warm. 
In your eyes, he was alluring, almost as intensely as the dark storm happening outside. And you couldn’t resist being pulled towards him. 
“Another glass of the same drink for the lady and a glass of grasshopper for me,” he smoothly spoke as he ordered the drinks for you.
The bartender nodded and went to work, while you slid closer to him. His fresh-scented cologne immediately hit you, and your confidence nearly wavered that you almost slid back. But then he caught you with his gaze as he turned back to you, giving you the kind of attention which boosted every bit of ego you had. 
“So you also prefer something light and sweet. How intriguing,” you teased him, bringing back his alluring grin. 
“Why do you think I came here to join you? It was obviously for the fruity drinks and to have someone to drink it together with,” he joked.
You rolled your eyes at him and smiled. Before you got to say something in return, the bartender came back with his order. The man took a sip of his drink first before you took yours. Once again, the sweetness from your drink swirled through your body, chipping away at the tension that had been weighing you down ever since the day’s saga began. 
“To be honest, I also thought that you were looking a bit rough.” His remark brought your attention back to him. The tease was gone from his voice. All that was left was a gentle concern that seemed genuine. “And you looked like you needed a friend. That’s why I invited myself to join you.” 
It makes you feel uneasy to think that you were being so transparent. So much so that a complete stranger like himself was able to see right through you. 
“You think so? Wait until you hear how rough I’m feeling inside as well,” you bitterly said to him, drawing a soft smile to his face. 
“That makes the two of us then,” he said to you gently with his eyes on his glass of drink. There was a forlorn look in his eyes as he slowly twirled the glass, causing the liquid to swish around before he took another sip from it. 
“Care to share?” you questioned him before you could stop yourself, only to pull yourself back. “Sorry, that sounds creepy. We just met and here I am, prying into someone else’s business,” you nervously laughed.  
His gaze softened when he looked at you. Furthermore, he also seemed intrigued. 
“No, not at all.” His voice was calm, and it somehow helped to calm your nerves. “I was just about to lend an ear in case you needed someone to vent to. I never expected that you would be a step ahead of me before I could make the offer.” 
The comment he gave you made you feel warm inside. 
“Mine’s a long story,” you bitterly said to him as you raised your glass, almost giving in to the urge to take a hefty drink and finish it off when everything started coming back to you again.
The reason behind this trip, why you were stranded here on your own, while being far, far away from home, and all the drama that had gotten in the way when you had been so desperate to get away from everything. 
Unsurprisingly, the man merely shrugged. “I’ve got time to spare. My flight won’t leave until tomorrow. And that is if they’re allowed to fly out of here at all.” 
You smiled at him. “Same here. I guess we’re both stranded here all night, huh?” 
He leaned in just then, invading your personal space and filling it with his presence. And you didn’t even mind it as you leaned into him, meeting him halfway to welcome him into your little safety bubble. 
“And I was worried that I might get stuck feeling lonely while being stranded in this place,” he gently murmured, drawing a smile to your face.  
“I doubt that you would end up alone tonight,” you teased him, simply because there was no possible way that someone as attractive as he was would be returning to his hotel bedroom alone. 
His smile grew, yet the deep, dark look in his eyes shifted into something else. Something naughty and sinful. It made you feel a new sensation brewing inside even without him ever having to touch you. 
“Is that an invitation?” he asked with his deep voice that came grazing at your skin. 
Normally, you wouldn’t know what to say in return. It had been so long since you played this kind of game with someone. With anyone. But his presence and his words were drawing something out of you. A part of you that you never thought existed. And you surprised yourself when you played along, taunting danger head-on as you challenged this handsome stranger before you— 
“Would you like it to be?” 
Something flashed in his eyes. It was dark and intense, and it was sucking you in. It brought a myriad of sensations that unexpectedly went straight down to your core. 
In the deep silence that fell right after, the world around you faded. Even before you got to know his name, before you had the chance to share your story, you already knew the answer that he was about to give you as a response to your question. 
And you also knew right then, that the sparks that came rising around you were something that you would never be able to easily forget, even if every bit of memory you had about him would fade over time. 
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Present…
Why do I keep thinking about that night all over again?
You can only wonder, as you keep being reminded of that eventful night. 
Weeks, nearly a month have gone by ever since, yet the memories seem to have been engraved deeply in your thoughts. And today, even though you haven’t really been thinking about it since, you suddenly find yourself having no trouble recounting everything that happened then. 
Well, almost everything. 
Some parts may seem blurry now. All due to the passing of time and the fact that you were partly inebriated at the time. But you can still recall some parts of the night that had clearly left a strong impression on you—the first encounter and the conversation you shared before alcohol took over, the instant attraction that you felt, but most of all, his entire presence. 
And they all have been coming into your thoughts while you are sitting here in the corner of your bathroom. Alone. With your arms wrapped around your folded knees and your eyes closed. As if you are waiting for a miracle to happen. 
You scoff at the thought. 
Right. Miracles. 
Years have long passed since you stopped believing that miracles do exist. Life always has its way of blindsiding you with its twists and turns that miracles no longer seem to matter anymore. 
Not for you, at least. 
Your past experiences have only caused you to look at it with sceptical eyes, sometimes even with bitterness, knowing that life has never been on your side. 
But here you are now, wishing, praying, holding onto hope that there would be a miracle to stop you from getting into a messy situation. One that you know you wouldn’t be able to handle on your own. 
After all, the perfect season of miracles is right around the corner. So it wouldn’t be so wrong for you to have some faith in them again now, would it? 
Your phone starts blaring with the sound of the alarm, snapping you out of it. Slowly, you rise on your wobbly feet. It feels as if your entire body has grown numb even before you get to face reality as it comes glaring back at you. 
Clutching onto the edges of your bathroom counter, you try to hold yourself together, and immediately failing, as you look at the two thin white strips lying on the cold counter and feel your entire world tilting off of its axis. 
All because of the two red lines that are clearly visible on each strip.
“Oh, fuck,” you softly groan. Deep down, you had already predicted this. Yet you kept denying it, hoping that you would be wrong.
“No, no, no—” you continue murmuring to yourself while wishing that you could somehow turn back time and change everything before things started going the wrong way. 
Back to this morning, when your roommate caught you—once again—throwing up last night’s dinner before handing you the unopened pregnancy test packs that she has been keeping safe in her room with the premise, “Just in case.” 
Or maybe you could return to last night when she pointed out your odd cravings—like dipping apples into peanut butter and eating leftover mac and cheese straight from the fridge without warming it in the microwave first—and joked about how you have been acting like a pregnant woman with your mood swings. 
Better yet, you wish you could go back to that night, back to that many weeks ago, when you allowed yourself to fall for a stranger’s charm which led you to spend the night with him. 
You close your eyes, once again murmuring to yourself, “This has got to be a dream.” 
But the moment you open your eyes again, nothing has changed. You are still standing there with your hands holding tightly onto the edges of the bathroom counter. And the two pregnancy test kits that you used are still lying on top of the counter for your eyes to see. 
A rapid sound of knocking on the bathroom door sends you jumping back. 
“Hey, ______? Is everything okay?” you hear your roommate, Skye, calling out for you. Her voice seems calm, yet when you recall hearing the sound of her footsteps moving back and forth outside of the door while you were taking the test, you know that she has been waiting just as anxiously as you were. “So—? What does it say?” 
Still in shock, and quite stuck in denial, you open your mouth only to have no words coming out of you. Your brain feels a bit hazy as you walk up to the door and open it for her. 
Skye takes one look at your face and her gaze softens. “What did it—” She shakes her head. “Oh, never mind, I’m dying to know. Let me see it,” she says as she brushes past you before you can say anything. 
Hoping that there is a chance that reality can change within the next few seconds, you refuse to turn around and once again close your eyes while she suddenly grows quiet.
Maybe you were just imagining things. Maybe you weren’t even looking at the test properly. Maybe—
“So, uhm—” you can hear Skye’s voice trembling a little as she hesitantly asks you, “Two lines mean it’s positive, is that right?” 
And just like that, every bit of hope you have in you flies out the window. “I wish I could say that it’s the other way around,” you softly murmur, feeling defeated. 
And the feeling grows stronger when you hear her cursing under her breath,
“Well, fuck.”
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“What are you doing?” you ask Skye as you gingerly take a seat on the sofa. 
Once you both stepped away from the bathroom, she guided you to the living room while she sauntered away to the kitchen without a word. You can hear the noises she makes as she is busy rummaging through the counters. Yet you are too far away to see what she is up to. 
“Hang on a minute. Stay there,” she calls out without even looking. 
“Okay.” 
It’s not like you have any energy to go anywhere, after all. Your head is still spinning and you can barely feel your legs. It feels as if you are stuck in a bad dream and you just can’t get out of it. 
It doesn’t take long before Skye returns to your side, carrying with her two clean tall glasses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. It was the same bottle that you opened when you celebrated your promotion a couple of weeks ago after coming back from the trip. 
Holy shit, you inwardly cry out. Your heartbeat rises as your hands find their way to your stomach. 
“Okay, let’s try to calm down,” Skye says to you as she places both glasses on the table before you, although it seems to you more as if she is talking to herself instead of reassuring you while you are panicking inside.
A couple of weeks ago? Wouldn’t I have been already pregnant then? 
These thoughts keep running through your head as you watch your roommate pouring wine into both glasses, just like the night she did the same when you first opened that same bottle. 
Dear God, how much did I drink that night? You ask yourself with a grimace as you try to remember. 
Wait, no. I didn’t drink anything, you remind yourself. Relief washes over you look back at the celebration night where you barely took a sip before Skye took the glass away from your hands. 
Because you were already feeling sick that day. 
You had been feeling nauseous for days, throwing up once in a while and mostly on the days when you were lacking sleep because of the workload you had to handle for the upcoming promotion. All you ever did was wet your lips with the wine after the celebratory toast. That was the only contact you made with the drink before Skye replaced it with a tall glass of alcohol-free smoothie that she made especially for your ‘upset stomach’.
Of course, how did I not see the signs? You wonder again as you remember the sickly feeling you had after vomiting each morning and feeling powerless for the rest of the day. It even got so bad that you had to skip work for a couple of days at the beginning of your ‘sickness’. 
If only you knew then. 
Your eyes are still on the wine glasses as Skye places them side by side and puts away the bottle. 
“Uh—I believe we both just saw the two lines appearing on the test packs.” 
She lets out a light scoff and waves her hand at you. “They're both for me. I’m going to need them while I process this,” she says, shaking her head as she sits down to join you on the sofa. “You get to keep that smoothie.” 
You follow her gaze and look down at the glass of smoothie that you left on the table during the whole fiasco with the pregnancy test. While you pick up your drink, Skye takes a hefty drink from one of the glasses of wine and sits back. 
“So—you’re pregnant,” she murmurs to herself. Her gaze flickers to your face for a brief moment and nods to herself before taking another drink. 
Why does it seem like she is the one panicking? 
She releases a sigh. Neither of you says anything for a moment. But you can tell when she grows more anxious by the minute. You don’t understand why, until she carefully asks you, “Are you going to tell Han?” 
Confused, you look at her with your brows furrowed and ask, “Why would I tell Han that I’m pregnant?” 
Skye looks genuinely confused, almost as much as you are, and you only realise the reason why when she asks you, “Isn’t Hansol the father? You guys have been dating for a long time and I can’t remember ever seeing you with anyone else while you’re on a break.” 
You wince, realising too late that you have yet to tell her the truth.
“Actually—we’re not on a break,” you slowly admit with a low voice. Months have gone by, and even though it no longer hurts whenever you start thinking about your failed relationship or to mention your ex’s name, you cannot help but still feel bitter about how it ended and you hate talking about it. 
That is the reason why you haven’t said anything about it to anyone. Maybe you were just too embarrassed. After all, it isn’t so easy to admit that you may have been the reason why the four-year relationship fell into pieces. 
“I lied,” you say with a burst of deep sigh, “It was over, done, finished—”
“So you already broke up?” she cuts you off with a calm voice. 
You bite your bottom lip as you slowly nod your head. “Yeah,” you whisper, suddenly feeling like your throat is tightening up. Not because you feel the sudden urge to cry. But only because this is all becoming too much to take at once.  
“And the baby?” she carefully asks you. “It wasn’t Han—” 
“The baby isn’t his,” you quickly answer before she even gets to question about it. 
It’s hard enough to hear his name being mentioned after a while. It feels harder to think that you might be carrying his baby. 
But the moment those words come out of your lips, reality finally sinks in. Grabbing the glass of your drink, you take a hefty drink out of it. You wish there was some alcohol in this thing. Maybe it would have helped you think more clearly. 
That’s right. It couldn’t have been his.
Sighing to yourself, you begin to do the math. “We’ve been broken up for months, so if the baby is his, I’m sure I would be showing already by this time around,” you say this while gently rubbing your palm over your stomach. 
Now that your suspicions have been confirmed, the gesture feels almost natural to you that your hand simply moves before you realise it, though it helps confirm that nothing much has changed with your body.
It feels odd to think that there is a life existing inside you, yet you cannot really see it with just one look. This convinces you further that the baby couldn’t have been conceived while you were still dating your ex. Looking back to it now, once you remember when exactly the sickness and craving started, it would only make sense that the baby was conceived on that specific night. 
“So—if Hansol isn’t the Dad, then who was it?” 
Biting your lip, you turn to look at Skye. Of course, if there is anyone in this world that you can talk to about this, it would only be her. Just like how she would come to you first whenever she is in a bind, whether it’s about her relationships, about work, or even the smallest things like having a bad day where you end up sharing a tub of ice cream to feel better. 
After all, she isn’t just a roommate, but also someone you have known the longest compared to the other friends you’ve made since moving into this city. You have known each other since college, since back in freshman year when both of you were nothing more but young kids from small towns being thrust into the big city. 
Being put together in the same dorm room led you to become fast friends. After years of enduring the same hardship in college, the two of you remained so close that you even moved to this city together and continued to live in the same place to keep each other company. 
You have gone through everything with her, and you have always been honest with each other. It should have been easy to tell her everything. If only you could find the right words to begin sharing your story. 
“I have no idea where to start.” 
“Well,” Skye patiently says while twirling the glass of wine she’s holding. You squint your eyes at her when you find it almost empty. So unfair. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?” 
“Right. From the beginning,” you say this with a nod. “Do you remember when I went away last month?” 
She nods. “Your secret getaway. Still jealous of that, by the way.” 
You give her a small smile. “Yeah, well—there’s a reason why I insisted on going alone on that trip. I actually planned it as a surprise vacation for me and Hansol. The original idea was for us to have a romantic getaway for our fourth anniversary.” 
Skye raises her eyebrows. “Well, damn,” she mutters. “Let me guess. You broke up before it happened?” 
You grimace as you recall what happened. “Close enough,” you answer with a bitter smile. “It was because of the trip that we got a huge fight in the first place.” 
Skye tilts her head. “I’m not following.” 
Sighing, you drink your smoothie to cool down and swallow the bitter feeling you are suddenly getting. Recounting the break-up isn’t so much fun to do. Not even after this long. 
“I planned the entire thing on my own. Booked the flight and the hotel, and rearranged our schedules to fit each other so we could go on that exact date. But I never shared anything with him, except to confirm that it was a place that he also dreamt of going so we could both enjoy it together.” You let out a defeated sigh. “I wanted it to be a surprise. He used to love those in the past, so I figured it could be fun to celebrate our anniversary this way and get away from all the stress both of us had been getting.” 
You stop talking for a moment to remember those days. Both you and Hansol had been so busy back then that you could barely spend time with each other. 
It was the exact routine every day. Having long hours in the office and since you weren’t living together, you could only keep in contact with each other through texts and calls. By the time the two of you were able to see each other, all the stress had been piling up that you were almost always arguing and fighting instead of making up for all the time you missed while being apart. 
“We were talking about moving in together but all of a sudden, we stopped discussing it and I could feel us growing further apart. I thought going away from all the stress for a while would help us get along and make up for all the fighting. Maybe we could have had a chance to talk things out and figure out what to fix.” 
You stop with a soft sigh. “We were getting bored. With work, with life, and maybe we did get bored with each other but neither of us could open up about it, much less admit it. Not even to ourselves.” 
Skye lets out a groan. “This is why I don’t do relationships,” she mutters before finishing her drink. The first glass. With the second one waiting on the table.
You give her a scoff, but smile at her comment before continuing, “He found out about the trip by chance. I was still logged in on his laptop after I borrowed it to check on my work email while I was staying over on the weekend. He accidentally opened the booking details when he was checking his email, thinking it was his account. He suspected me of planning to go with someone else, but even after I told him that the trip was for both of us, he wasn’t having it.” 
Skye leans forward when she hears this. “Wait, he’s pissed about a secret vacation?” she asks, looking unhappy and confused at the same time. You can’t really blame her. Because that is exactly how you feel about your ex’s reaction. “Why would he be? If it had been me, I would’ve been ecstatic about going.” 
“I wish I knew,” you groan, feeling just as frustrated as you had been then. “But he wasn’t just refusing to go. He started blaming me. Saying something about me holding him back or something. He said he had no time for a trip when he needed to be there and work for his promotion.” 
Thinking back to that day, remembering about the fight and the things you said to each other, you are reminded of the moment the fight left your body. Because you knew then that there was nothing left to fight over. 
“He never even brought up the fact that it was the date of our anniversary. I don’t think he even knew or remembered it,” you say with a bitter chuckle. “He broke it off, saying that he wanted to focus on his career and I would be keeping him behind. And I agreed because I knew that we’d wound up hurting each other if we’d stayed.” 
“I can understand that,” Skye gently says. The two of you share a sad smile when your eyes meet. “And you still went on that trip,” she guesses, sounding proud. She lifts her glass to you and says, “Good girl.” 
You merely shrug. “When I went to cancel the tickets for the trip, I thought it would be such a waste to throw everything away. So I decided that going solo would be a good idea and kept mine. Besides, I needed a moment to heal myself and get away from the city for a short while.” 
She laughs, agreeing with you. Then, just as she is about to say something, she suddenly stops. A knowing look comes across her gaze and she slowly gasps. “Don’t tell me—” she says, “You met someone while you were there.” 
You nod your head slowly and press your lips together. “Once again, you’re close. But that’s not exactly what happened.” Blowing out a deep breath, you slowly ask her, “Remember when I told you that I got held up for a day in transit?” 
“Yeah, I was so jealous of you that I still remember everything you told me about that trip,” she lets out a dreamy sigh, then her gaze snaps back at you. “But, it seems to me that you haven’t told me everything about the trip.” 
“No, I didn’t.” You grimace. “Anyway, that’s when I met him—” 
The memories return to you again as you share with your roommate about your encounter with the beautiful stranger. You remember vividly the way he spoke, the deep and gentle voice that he spoke to you with, and his captivating smile that made you swoon. Everything about him that made it hard for you to leave and say goodbye to him. 
You recount the way you enjoyed each other’s company that even after your terrible mood gradually became much better, and after you finished yet another drink, you simply couldn’t walk away and end the night with him so soon. You stayed longer, losing count of the time you spent with him and the drinks you had. 
“And then, one thing led to another, it just happened.” 
Skye’s eyes have grown so wide at this point, and her jaw has dropped in her surprise that she looks almost comical. “You hooked up with a stranger during your transit?” she asks you. The moment you nod your head, she switches her empty glass with the other. “I would drink to that.” 
You laugh just as she takes a hefty drink as if celebrating on your behalf. “Why do you sound so proud of me?” 
“Well,” she slowly starts, “We’ve known each other for so long. You have always been so put together, always followed the rules, and you are always so good at what you do. From school, to work, even the little things you have been doing on the side. But not when it comes to your sex life.” 
You know that she is right about everything. But it doesn’t stop you from picking up a cushion and hitting her with it. 
“Hey, you know I’m right,” she says while laughing and protecting the precious glass of wine. “Come on, you’ve never had any casual relationships or random hookups, and every chance I could have gotten to hook you up with my guy friends was gone when Hansol came into the picture.” 
Pouting, you pull the cushion back and hold it tightly in your arms. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you admit with a sigh. “How do you get to know me so well?” 
“That’s because I love you enough to pay attention,” she smugly says while waving her glass around, sloshing the wine everywhere. “Why do you think I’ve been so protective of you over the years?” 
You roll your eyes and hit her with the cushion one last time, making her laugh, even though she is right. For as long as you have been friends with her, she has always been like an older sister to you. Not only for coming hard like a shield against the guys you ever introduced her to but also for the trivial things that not many people would pay much attention to. 
Like reminding you to eat properly when you are stressed out or too busy with work and school. 
You feel bad for relying on her so much over the years. But you also feel grateful about it. Just like how you’re feeling right now once you notice that you’re no longer feeling as stressed as you had earlier once you’re done dumping everything to her. 
Skye’s eyes turn back to you, landing on your covered belly as she curiously asks, “Are you positively sure that Hansol wasn’t the father?” 
You slowly nod your head. As much as you wish that you were wrong, you couldn’t have been mistaken about this.
“What are the odds that it was a false positive?” you suddenly question her, while she shrugs. 
“It’s possible,” she says. “But we can get some more test kits and redo the test. Just in case. Or you could make an appointment with the doctor straight away to make sure.” 
“Right, the doctor—” You let out a soft sigh and close your eyes briefly. It has been a while since you’ve seen your physician. The last time was before—
Oh, shit. 
Your eyes snap open right then. How long ago has it been since you’ve gone to see your physician? The last time was when you went to your regular appointment for your birth control. But that felt so long ago. 
Long before the trip. 
After that appointment, and once the break-up happened, you simply threw yourself into work so much you completely forgot about everything else. And since you were newly single, getting your birth control was the last thing you had in mind at the time. 
Fuck me, you inwardly groan without saying a thing to your roommate who is busy chattering about the doctor, making appointments, and offering to take you there herself. You know that she would lecture you about safe sex like a mother hen if you ever share this with her.
But wait…he wore a condom, right? Yes, you are quite sure he did. The details are blurry when you try to remember, but you do remember protection being involved. 
Groaning to yourself, you fall back on the sofa. Your head starts spinning again when you start worrying about other things. Once you start thinking of a problem that you may have to face, another one comes to mind. 
“What am I supposed to do with this baby?”  
Skye once again raises her eyebrows at you. “I think the right question should be what do you want to do?” she asks, while you can only shake your head.
“I don’t know,” you answer with a small voice. The only thing you can think of right now is how you are going to get through this holiday while being pregnant. You are supposed to be home for Christmas in two weeks, and knowing just how crazy your family truly is, you cannot imagine how they would react if they found out you are with a child. 
You close your eyes and let out a sigh. “And my family still have no idea that I broke up with Han.” 
“For once, I’m not jealous of your life,” Skye says as she sips her wine. But she is ready for it when you fling the cushion back at her and avoid it without spilling her drink. “Don’t worry. I think they’ll catch on about your failed relationship as soon as you walk into your family home without that hunk by your side.” 
Huffing, you hug the cushion in your arms and lean back. “I guess if they’re going to find out either way, I might as well just tell them the moment I got home.” 
Besides, it might be even harder to hide the fact that you are pregnant. You might not be showing yet, but there is no possible way you could avoid the questions that may come if you are still feeling so sick right in front of your family, or if your cravings suddenly get out of hand. 
Especially if Honey is there. Despite the early signs of dementia showing on her lately, your grandmother has always been so perceptive. And there is no telling what random things she may blurt out once she has some rum in her system. 
With so many different things to think about, you almost forget one important matter that you should be thinking about when it comes to the baby. And just like always, Skye is there to remind you of it. 
“Do you remember his name?” 
You turn to Skye with wide eyes, suddenly panicking inside. You can tell that she can see it on your face and is now sharing the same feeling when she suddenly knocks back the rest of her wine and groans, “Fuck, I’m gonna need more.” 
You watch her pour more wine into her glass, hastily drinking it right after, before turning to you again. “You didn’t get his name? At least tell me that you got his number before you went separate ways.”
You bite your lips. “It’s Tae.” 
“Tae—what?” 
You shake your head. “That’s it,” you let out a frustrated sigh. “That was the only name he ever gave me.” 
“Seriously?” 
Skye is freaking out, you can tell. But you close your eyes and rest your head back, shutting everything down as she starts ranting about how she was supposed to teach you better about hooking up with strangers and keeping yourself safe. 
With her voice turning into white noise at the back of your mind, your memories return to you, taking you back to the eventful night. 
You can almost feel yourself being back there again—back in the cold hotel bar with the scent of old wood and liquor lingering in the air; the murmuring sounds of people chatting and laughing, accompanied by the sound of glasses clinking together resonating through the space around you; back to his presence that felt so strong and intense you could barely feel anything else other than him as long as you had your attention fully on him.
“What’s your name?” You remember him asking you with his voice that grew more gentle and deeper the more he drank. 
You leaned into him and giggled in response as if he just said something funny to you. “Does it really matter?” 
His soft chuckle rumbled around you. The voice was so soft, yet you could hear it clearly because of how close you were leaning into him. “I’m sure I remember being taught not to talk to strangers.” 
“Are you telling me that you’ve been a good boy for listening to what your Mom taught you?” you teased him. It was obvious how tipsy you were at this point, which may have been the reason why you were growing more confident. 
“Oh, I’ve always been a good boy,” he answered you while looking amused. He went silent right after. His gaze seemed far away just for a fleeting moment before he finally said, “My name is Tae.” 
“Tae? That’s it?” you asked, “Is that a codename or something?” You feigned a surprise gasp before you leaned into him further to whisper, “Are you secretly a spy?” 
You felt his chest rumbling when he softly laughed. “Something like that, yeah,” he said, as he played along with your joke. 
But the moment you leaned away from him, you were surprised when you got to see something in him that you couldn’t see before. His guard was down, allowing you to see the vulnerability that was buried deep under his suave and smooth talking. 
For a brief moment, he looked broken. Just like you did. 
And from the way he was hiding himself, not only under the short nickname but also from the way he was masking his emotions, you could tell that he was looking for an escape from reality. The same way you did that night. 
So you simply smiled at him, choosing not to pry further to see beyond the mask and play along. Because at the same time, you wanted to hide your broken heart and become someone else to be able to forget everything. Just for one night. 
“Then you can call me Red. It’s my special codename for tonight.” 
His grin widened. You could almost see the relief washing over him through his warm gaze when he looked at you.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you tonight,” he said, still with his gentle voice that almost felt like sin licking on your skin when he called you, “Red.” 
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Two weeks later…
“Here you go,” your mother’s voice snaps you from whatever stupor you have been stuck in. When you open your eyes, a glass of ginger tea has manifested right before you. 
“Drink this,” your Mom says as she points at the drink. “It should be good for your stomach.” 
Your breath gets caught in your throat. Furrowing your brows, you keep your eyes on the drink instead of reaching for it. Thoughts of those past mornings when you and Skye spent searching through the internet to find a way to get rid of your morning sickness come through your mind. 
Does she know? Did she figure it out already? Is it really that obvious? 
You clench your hands and resist the urge to rub against your stomach. It has become a habit of yours to rub around your belly as if trying to feel the baby that is hiding inside whenever you feel agitated.
After getting the positive results through the home test kits, you had gone straight to the doctor only days before you left the city to have it checked, confirming that a baby is growing inside you. It still feels unbelievable to think about it, even after you saw it yourself with your own eyes. 
“It’s still really early, and we might not be seeing much yet, but that’s your baby,” the doctor’s voice echoes through your mind as you tighten your clenched hands, thinking back to the day you went to have an ultrasound and saw for the first time the growing fetus that was said to be viable to grow fully as a baby. 
Just like how the baby inside you has been nothing more than a blob of mass floating inside your stomach in your mind, your belly itself has yet to change shape. Even if your full awareness of the baby’s presence has only been causing you to find small changes in your body that nobody else might be able to see. 
But Mom has been pregnant before, so wouldn’t she be able to see it? Will that be possible?
“Ginger tea is good for nausea and will give you some energy boost. Your grandma always made it for me whenever I had a stomach ache. I’m sure it’ll help get rid of your nausea and your upset stomach will turn better in no time.” Your Mom stops talking and sighs. “You should’ve told me that you were sick. I wouldn’t have let you drive all the way home if I had known.” 
Ah. 
You breathe a sigh of relief. You should be thankful that she believed you when you told her about having an upset stomach from the long drive home from the city. It was the only thing that you could think of as an excuse when your Mom wondered why you hadn’t been eating well since you got back home and why you were feeling sick.
It makes you wonder why you have been feeling unwell since you got home. Just when you had purposely waited until you were well enough and had stopped throwing up when you planned for the drive. 
It’s almost as if the baby is deliberately making you sick to let everyone know about your secret.
“Thanks, Mom,” you say to your Mom as you reach for the tea, hiding your relieved sigh as you gingerly drink in small sips. 
You have lost count of how many times Skye has made you this drink specifically to stop you from vomiting in the morning before going to work. It has been helping a lot to ease your ‘sickness’, and you are feeling it calming your stomach already as the drink warms your body. 
You can feel your mother’s eyes on you, making you feel uneasy to be under her watchful gaze. “I think it might be better if you get some rest and take things easy. But are you sure you’re okay?” your Mom asks again, still worrying about you. 
You continue drinking the ginger tea slowly while pressing down your guilt. You hate lying to your Mom the most, and now you are starting to regret driving home on your own. If the baby hadn’t been the one responsible for your current sickness, then perhaps driving the long distance has been the reason why your nausea is now coming back with a vengeance.
So much for trying to not draw any suspicions. 
“I’m fine, Mom. Really,” you sigh as you place the glass down. “The tea is helping me already. I’ll feel better soon, I promise.” 
Your Mom says nothing for a moment, but the crease you see forming on her forehead says differently. “I’m not just talking about you being sick. Maybe there’s another reason why you’re feeling faint?” 
You look up at her just then. The moment you catch the pitiful look she is giving you, you finally understand what she is trying to say. 
Just as Skye predicted, it didn’t take long for your family to take notice of your solo arrival. In the past, Hansol would have joined you to visit your family for a day or two during the holidays before he would return to his family on Christmas day. So his absence was quite obvious from the get-go. 
And with the big lie that you have to hide from everyone at home, you had to at least give them one honest truth the moment they started asking. 
“We ended things a few months ago,” you admitted to your family during the first dinner you had since you got home. By that time, you had already tried to avoid the questions for long enough. Nobody has brought up about it again since then. 
Until now. 
“If you’re talking about the breakup, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m okay, Mom. It’s been months since it happened. I’ve been trying to move one.” 
In fact, you haven’t been thinking about your ex at all for a long time. Not until you brought it up to Skye and then again when your family started questioning. The only thing you have been worrying about lately is the baby growing inside you and finding a way to search for the father of the baby. 
It was the one thing that you talked about with Skye before you left. While you are capable enough to raise the baby on your own, you decided it would be the best course of action to contact the father and let him know.
In Skye’s own words, “Just in case.” 
Just in case the father would care enough to know that he has a son or a daughter coming into this world and wants to be in their life. 
“But if we fail to find him or he wants nothing to do with the baby, then we’ll deal with it on our own. You just got your promotion, I got my good pay. We can raise the baby together. You and me, just like old times.”
Skye’s words put a smile on your face. She always knows how to lift your spirit up whenever you feel like giving up, and those exact words have helped boost your confidence and made you believe that you could get through this. 
But first, you just need to get through spending this holiday with your family. 
“I know you said that. But as your Mom, I can’t help but worry. I thought you were serious and we’ll be hearing some good news about you getting married this year.” 
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Sorry, Mom,” you tease her with a bitter chuckle. You don’t bother to mention that the two of you had never once talked about marriage throughout your relationship.
Yet another sign that you overlooked. At least you never got to waste anymore time with him.
“Things just didn’t work out between us. It happens when a couple grow into two different people in the course of their relationship. Which was exactly what happened to us. Hansol wanted to focus on his career, in return, I also got the chance to focus on mine.” 
Just as you said the words, you realise that this is true for your case. 
Hansol has always been career-driven, and it has been growing stronger lately for him with the constant rise he was experiencing in his current company. And breaking up with your long-time boyfriend has allowed you to turn your focus on your job. The recent promotion you gained was a testament to your hard work to show you that there might be a silver lining to everything that has happened. 
“I suppose you’re right,” your Mom says with a smile. You are beginning to feel a bit relieved that she seems to understand. You are hoping that she would start talking about something else when she adds, “I just feel sad that it didn’t work out for you. And we were all expecting to have Hansol joining us again this year. I guess it’s too late now to let your sister know about this since she’s supposed to arrive today.” 
Stepsister. 
You lift your glass and slowly drink your tea to stop yourself from correcting her. For some reason, you feel a bit bitter having your mother mention her all so suddenly. 
It isn’t that you hate your stepsister. It’s hard to feel something so extreme when you barely had any relationship with her at all. Back when you were younger, your mother did try to get you two to get along and be friends. 
To make her happy, you tried your best to act friendly, or at least to be cordial whenever she was around, even when the only thing she showed you over the years had been nothing but contempt. 
But things changed after a drunken fit that she had last holiday season, when she got drunk and tried to make a move and openly flirted with your then-boyfriend. Even if nothing ever came out of it except for her own embarrassment, as Hansol openly rejected her and stayed away from her for the remaining time he was here, the incident still left a bad taste that made you feel bitter. 
That was when you finally decided that you would stop trying to be nice.
You put down the glass and try to remain calm. What’s done is done. All you have to do is focus on getting through this holiday before going back to the city and start with your mission to search for the baby’s father.
“What does Alia have to do with my break up?” you ask your mother, hoping that she wouldn’t bring up the drama from last year. 
“Oh, it’s nothing serious, really,” your Mom answers with a soft chuckle, “It’s just that Alia called home sometime last week, asking if she could bring someone over this Christmas. She said that she’s been seeing someone new and since she was bringing him to meet her mother, she wondered if it would be okay if she could bring him along to meet us too.” 
Your Mom sighs, looking a bit guilty when she adds, “We figured since you might bring Hansol with you, it would be okay if she has her new boyfriend along. Maybe the guys could get along and spend time together while you and Alia catch up.” 
You try to imagine you and Alia catching up like old friends or—just like what your Mom has been wishing you to be—as sisters, and you almost shake your head. 
Yeah, that seems unlikely, you bitterly wonder to yourself, yet you don’t have the heart to tell your mother that there is not much hope for you and Alia to be good friends. 
“I guess it’s a shame that Hansol isn’t here,” you simply say to your mother while you inwardly wonder just what your stepsister is really up to this year. 
“Yeah, it’s unfortunate,” your mother says with a sigh. “But I’m glad that at least both of you girls can make it home this year.” 
“Me too, Mom,” you force a smile, silently hoping that you can start talking about something else. Something that doesn’t concern your bitter stepsister coming home or bringing up any dark thoughts about your ex. “So, what are we having for dinner? Want my help in the kitchen?” 
Your question immediately puts everything into motion, drifting her attention away from your sappy story and the false hope of sisterhood that may never happen between you and your stepsister. Your Mom tries to stop you from helping out in the kitchen at first but finally gives in when you keep insisting. 
At least, this way, you can keep your mind busy enough to stop it from thinking about unnecessary thoughts the way it often does when you are alone. 
Things seem to be going on well enough at first, until your sickness returns and you have to give up trying. 
”See, I told you that you should be resting until you feel better,” your mother complains as she watches you bending over, keeping away from the stove and what is currently cooking on top of it which seems to be making you feel dizzy and sick. 
After garlic, lemon-scented air freshener, and coconut milk, seems you are going to have to add raw chicken to the list of things that may trigger your nausea.
“But then I’ll be bored like hell,” you argue, “I’m fine, Mom. Just let me take a quick break for a minute.” 
Your mother looks as if she wants to say something, but the sound of a car coming into the driveway interrupts her. Both of you turn to look out towards the living room, just in time to see your stepfather, Cliff, turning in the corner of the hall and rushing towards the front door. 
“Honey, they’re here!” he calls out, and you urge your mother to join him. 
“Go, Mom. I’ll finish things up and make sure nothing gets burned before I join you guys.”
Once your mother is out of the kitchen, you can no longer resist pressing your palm on your stomach. 
“Seriously, baby,” you whisper to the non-existent bump under your sweater, “Please take it easy, will you? I’m really struggling here, and you’re not making things easy for me. Trust me, it would be too soon for everyone to find out about you. At least wait until we can find a clue about your Dad, okay?” 
As if the baby inside you is listening, even if it is still barely full-grown at this point, your body grows calmer and the nausea slowly wanes. 
“Thank you, baby,” you whisper to your stomach once again before finally focusing on the stove and the oven, deliberately taking your time with what you do just so you can have a reason not to join the dramatic reunion happening right this minute. 
From this side of the kitchen, the front door isn’t completely visible. But you can hear everything as the door opens and your stepfather joyfully welcomes his daughter. 
Hearing his voice makes you smile. You may have had a tumultuous relationship with your stepsister, but the same cannot be said with your stepfather. Cliff has always been a great role model, and your relationship with him has always been great from the start. 
It makes you feel guilty when you think about the previous encounters where you and your stepsister simply gave each other cold shoulders or when you were met with altercations just because of how different the two of you are. But there is no helping it. Nothing has changed over the years no matter how hard you tried. Not even once you have become adults. 
You can’t even remember how it first started. And frankly, you no longer care. Last year’s incident was already enough to let you know that the sisterhood that your parents have been forcing you into was beyond saving. 
The voices coming from the front door continue for a moment longer. This time, you get to hear your mother’s voice joining in the conversation and Alia’s soft voice answering her questions. You make no effort to listen to what they are saying and tune out their voices, until your mother’s voice calls out to you. 
“______, your sister is here. Come and say hi.” 
Your mother’s words make you stop. Slowly, you turn down the heat on the stove and turn to make your way towards the front door to join the family reunion. 
“It’s stepsister,” you mutter under your breath as you drag your feet, taking your sweet time while you try to compose yourself before having to face the unwanted guests. 
As you turn around the corner, merely moments before the front door finally comes into view, you get to hear another voice speaking. The voice that you couldn’t clearly hear from the kitchen while you were tuning their conversation out. 
“I’m sorry for intruding. But thank you for having me here.” 
That voice. 
You immediately come to a halt. An uneasy feeling runs through your body when you realise that you recognise this voice and have grown to know it quite well. 
There is no mistaking it. You may not have gotten his full name on the night you met, and his face has somewhat become a faint mirage in your dreams at night whenever you are taken back to the night of your hookup.
But you cannot say the same about his voice. 
That deep and gentle voice will always be engraved in your memory. Even now, the only thing you would need to do is close your eyes and listen, and allow the voice to take you back to that specific night once more, where he used this voice to say sinful words that you could feel caressing your fragile heart while he was bringing you to the peak of pleasure.
And now you are hearing that voice here, at your home, idly chatting with your mother by the front door. 
“_______, are you coming?” your mother calls again, and you know that there is no avoiding it. You have to face reality, even if that means you must come face to face with the man who is responsible for placing you in this situation.
Tamping down the rush of nerves going through your body, you slowly march ahead. Bracing yourself as you turn around the corner and enter the living room where everyone is currently gathering in.
Your eyes fall on your stepsister first. 
Alia has always looked so vibrant and beautiful, drawing all kinds of attention from everyone in the room whenever she is present. Yet when you look at her now, there seems to be a new kind of light emerging from her. Even her smile seems brighter as she chats along with your stepfather.  
And you soon realise the reason why she is shining brightly today as you turn your gaze to look at the person standing beside her. To finally see him. 
He looks just like how you remember him. Tall and lean, with his arms and chest filling up his sweater. He has his hair falling over a part of his face, just enough of a mess that seems as if he has been running his fingers through the wavy strands. As he converses with your mother, he shows his boxy grin that seems familiar to your eyes. 
Too familiar. 
Because it looks just the same as the wide grin that was teasing and flirting with you on one eventful night at the transit hotel weeks ago. 
No. That can’t be.
The baby’s daddy is here. The man who you were planning to look for once you return to the city. 
He is here, today, appearing at the front door of your parents’ home together with your stepsister. His long fingers that had once entangled between the strands of your hair are now entwined with your stepsister’s dainty fingers. And there is no mistaking the matching couple rings that are glowing under the sunlight coming from their entwined hands. 
Before you get the chance to process what is happening, you hear him introducing himself to your stepfather, “It’s good to see you, Sir. My name is Taehyung.” 
No. 
You stifle a gasp. It feels like you have been sucker-punched right in the chest that you can barely breathe. 
Taehyung, you wonder. Tae? 
All of a sudden, you feel as if the ground beneath your feet is tilting over, slowly taking you down with it. And since you seem to have lost the ability to move your feet, the only thing you can do to stop yourself from falling is to clench your hands tightly by your side. Tight enough to feel pain as your nails are sinking into your palms, convincing you that this is not a dream. 
Yet you are still in denial as you watch the interaction happening right before your eyes. Because there is no way this is happening. There is no possible way that it is truly him. 
Please. Please don’t let it be him. 
It must have been your mind playing tricks on you. Because there is no way that he is here. Not as your stepsister’s new boyfriend. 
This must be a mistake. Yes, you are probably confused and all the thoughts of finding your baby daddy are messing up with your head, forcing you to believe that your stepsister’s new boyfriend is your mysterious baby daddy. The fact that they have the same name must have been pure coincidence. 
For once in your life, you don’t want to be right. You have to be wrong. 
Please tell me that it’s not him. 
Just then, as if life was listening to your prayers, as if life has yet to have enough of its games to play around with your heart, the man turns his gaze away from your parents. And those pretty eyes land on you. 
As if there is a switch turned, the brightness in his gaze fades. His beautiful eyes are filled with recognition. It is so subtle that you are quite sure that nobody else around you notices it, but it is enough to let you know that your memories have been right all along. 
Because those are the same eyes that you saw looking back at you with pure lust and sin while he was bringing you wanton pleasure, when you made love as if both of you had been under a spell, right on the very night that may have changed your fate forever. 
Fuck. 
Me.
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At one glance, this moment would seem like any other pre-holiday family dinner. It may seem picture perfect, even—if you had been a stranger looking in. 
There are still a couple of days left until Christmas Day, yet the festive mood has already filled the room. From the living room, all the way to the dining room, Christmas decorations are already plastered across the walls and hung from the ceiling. On the dining table, the delectable meal that your mother worked hard to prepare—with your poor assistance—had been perfectly laid out. 
With Alia’s arrival today, the immediate family is now complete. Ever the charming daughter, Alia takes up the attention of everyone around her as she shares her story—about how she has been travelling between different states and some neighbouring countries, changing jobs, finding new hobbies, and even planning to adopt a new pet. 
Sitting at the head of the table, your stepfather is soaking it all in, enjoying the time he has with his daughter whom he rarely gets to see throughout the year. Your mother sits on his right, getting the front seat of their merry reunion. She would sometimes chime in, never failing to try to get you into joining their idle chat even when you are not feeling up to it. 
Other times, you would have been able to easily play along. From making cordial comments and joining with all the light jokes shared by your family, or feigning interest in anything that Alia might be sharing at the table—even when she rarely would share the same courtesy when you did the same. 
Tonight, however, it feels like a struggle for you to focus on the conversation shared at the table, let alone pretend to be interested. Not when you are busy trying your best to calm your nerves. 
You can't even embrace the same warm atmosphere that everyone seems to be sharing. 
For you, the air around feels stifling and tense. It has been this way ever since you sat down right next to your mother for dinner. Because due to the seating arrangement, the special guest of the night is now sitting right across from you at the table. 
Taehyung. 
The last person that you had ever expected to see. Not here. Certainly not at your home or sharing the same space with your parents. 
It seems surreal to meet him here like this. Even more so when he was introduced to your family as Alia’s new boyfriend.
Judging from the way he reacted when he first saw you, you can tell that he never expected something like this could ever happen. You know that he has questions, perhaps just as much as you do, yet the situation that you found yourself in right now isn’t allowing you to even show any sign that the two of you know each other or to have met before today. 
But there is something in the way he is looking at you that doesn’t sit right with you. Aside from the lingering shock you see each time your eyes accidentally meet each other, there is a look that shows a semblance of guilt, despair, and at the same time, filled with wonder. 
Was it because he never expected to see you again after that night, much less to find out that you are somehow related to the woman that he is dating? Or was there something else going through his mind? 
“This is Alia’s sister, ______,” was what your mother said when she first introduced you to him. At that point, you and Taehyung were stunned to silence, and for a brief moment, neither of you reacted. 
Thinking about it now, you can’t even remember how you managed to join your family in the living room. The moment you saw Taehyung standing there, your legs nearly gave out. It was a wonder how you managed to stop yourself from falling or tripping as you walked over to them in a state of distraught. 
“Hi, it’s good to see you,” was all that you managed to croak out of once you snapped out of it. You didn’t even give him a chance to respond when you suddenly turned your attention to your stepsister, forcing a smile on your face when you greeted her, “Hey, Alia. It’s good to see you. You seem well.” 
You can’t even remember the expression that Alia gave you when she responded to you, “Uh yeah, thanks. You too.” 
“Right. Well, I’ll let you guys settle in. I left the stove on, so—” 
That was the last thing you said before you turned away and quickly left the room, practically running away from him to hide back in the kitchen. The last thing you heard as you walked away was your mother’s voice saying something about you being her assistant of the day in the kitchen while you were feeling unwell, as if excusing you for your unmannerly attitude. 
By the time you got back in the kitchen, your hands were shaking, your heartbeat was racing so fast you could barely breathe. It took a long time for the shock to wane, and you had spent the rest of the day staying away from both of them, avoiding him entirely until you were finally called to join dinner. 
And you are still avoiding him even now, keeping your head down as much as you can and resisting the urge to look his way. As if it isn’t hard enough for you to have him sitting right in front of you, you can feel the heat of his gaze constantly following you whenever you are not looking.
He doesn’t make it so obvious, and it doesn’t seem like anyone else has noticed it yet. Perhaps you are just too hyperaware of his presence that you caught on to it so easily.
You sneak a glance at your stepsister, wondering if Alia has taken notice of her boyfriend’s wandering gaze or where he has been directing his eyes. It takes you watching the conversation between her and your parents more closely to see it. 
Because it turns out that she also has her own gaze wandering to questionable places at the same time that she isn’t paying much attention to her boyfriend. 
Each time Alia turns to regard your mother or speak to her, her gaze flickers away briefly, ever so subtly landing on the seat to your right. At the seat that Hansol would usually occupy whenever he joined you during these holiday visits. 
It is easy to catch it when you are seeing it from your angle. And it is easy to guess what is going through her head when she keeps doing it with a curious look written all over her face. An unspoken question seems to linger, while the incident from last year keeps flashing through your head when you picture Hansol being present beside you. 
Even if nobody notices her intention, you doubt that anyone would question her about it, seeing that the seat that was supposed to be left empty has been taken by someone else. 
While you are busy trying to make sense out of everything, your grandmother makes a disapproval noise with her tongue, grabbing your attention. “Are you still feeling under the weather? You’ve been drinking that boring thing the whole day,” she says, referring to the glass of iced tea that you have just put down after taking a drink from it to cool down. 
You turn to look at your dear grandmother, Honey, and smile at her. She probably hasn’t realised what a saving grace she has been for taking the unoccupied seat to your right the minute she came in for dinner. 
And she is now helping you again by drawing your attention away from the source of your dismay. Immediately, you feel better the moment you are met with Honey’s smile. 
“I’m feeling much better, actually. I’m just being careful not to drink anything that might get me sick,” you answer carefully, hoping to sound reasonable enough without making anyone question your ‘sickness’ any further. 
The more you lie to your family about it, the more guilty you feel. You don’t have much choice at the moment but to hide it just a bit longer. 
At first, you couldn’t share the news with your parents simply because you were still clueless about how you were going to find the father of the baby with only limited information you had of him. But then things only got even more complicated for you to ever come clean when he walked through the front door of your parents’ home. 
What are the odds that the man you hooked up with turns out to be the man your stepsister is currently dating? And here you are now, stuck in the same room with them while hiding a secret which may change the course of everyone’s entire life.
Yeah, miracles don’t exist. Not for me, at least.
Honey taps at your hand on the table as you grow silent, oblivious to the thoughts running through your head. “You know what you need?” she asks, whispering in a conspiring tone that she barely keeps down so that everyone at the table can still hear her voice. 
And she does it while looking at you with her wide, expecting eyes, with the barely concealed mischief written all over her face. It makes you smile, knowing where this is going. So you simply play along. 
"No, Honey. What would that be?” 
Her mischievous smile widens as she leans closer. “A hint of rum. With a few drops into that boring tea of yours, you’ll feel better in no time,” she says, lifting her hand and showing you a pinching gesture with her thumb and forefinger nearly touching each other, “Just a pinch. Or better yet, just trade your whole glass—” 
The sound of your Mom’s frustrated sigh cuts her off. “Mom, I already told you, giving her alcohol isn’t going to make her feel better. I’ve already given her some herbal tea, that should be enough until she can get a proper rest.”
“Oh, posh,” Honey says, waving her hand at your mother. “Ignore your Mom,” Honey says just as you are about to respond. “I’m telling you. Alcohol is best to cure your heartbreak,” she adds, and you certainly have no arguments against that. Alcohol might be able to help you forget. 
But, alas…
But, wait a minute. You stop and look closely at Honey. What is she talking about? 
“What do you mean?” you question her while tilting your head, wondering deep down if she had noticed something. Surely, she wouldn’t be able to tell the high tension rolling between you and Taehyung through dinner. 
Nobody else could. But you also know that if there is anyone in your family who might be able to catch on with the tension rolling between the two of you, it would be Honey. 
Once again, Honey reaches out and taps her dainty fingers on the back of your hand. “Isn’t that why you’re feeling down, peaches? I know you’re still thinking about that good for nothing—” 
Honey stops herself and bites down her smile before you can figure out what she is about to say. But you have heard enough to understand who she is referring to. 
Relief washes over you when you realise that she was talking about your ex, Hansol. She must have thought that you have been stressing over the breakup and you have been feeling unwell because of it.
Honey leans in, this time lowering her voice just enough only for you to hear. “You must’ve taken it from me. I also get a stomach bug when I’m stressed out. Just like last summer when I lost a go-stop game against the ladies from the block,” she says, before she continues blabbering about how she had made bets during the game and went all-in only to lose everything. 
“You might think that they’re nothing but small pennies used for gambling coins, but I spent a whole week collecting them. How am I supposed to replace all of them before the next game?” she continues to complain, while you laugh at her. 
Her story takes away the tension on your shoulders for a brief moment before she adds, “And then you had to come here and watch these two being all lovey-dovey with each other.” 
As Honey mentions the pair sitting across the table, waving her hand at them to make a point, your eyes are drawn towards them once more. And your gaze lands right on Alia’s hand which is now resting on top of Taehyung’s. 
Seeing this makes you feel tight in the chest. Bitterness fills your mouth which you can barely hide with a tight smile. Honey may not have been entirely correct with her assumptions, yet her comment still hits the mark somehow. 
Not about Hansol, obviously, as he is the one to occupy your mind the least. Yet she wasn’t too far off when she talked about the new pair of lovers before you. Seeing them does make you uncomfortable, miserable even, but for entirely different reasons. 
Looking away from their joined hands, your gaze meets Alia’s. She is wearing an unreadable expression on her face as she listens in to Honey’s words. And the strange look that she is giving you now is making you feel uneasy.
Just as you start wondering if Alia has noticed something, she instead asks you, “You guys broke up?” 
She throws a quick glance at Honey’s seat with a frown. For others, she might seem concerned, yet there is a look in her eyes which tells you that there is something more. “I was wondering why I haven’t seen him around. He was with us last holiday.” 
Her comment rubs you in the wrong way. You have no idea why she would care when your relationship has nothing to do with her. But you try to not let it bother you. “Yes, it’s been months now since we broke up. I only told Mom and Dad yesterday when I first got home.” 
“I see,” she says. Her voice comes out so softly that it almost comes out as a murmur. She pulls her hand back and places it on her lap. “That’s too bad. I’m sorry,” she adds while offering a small smile. And for some reason, she also seems guilty. 
Does she think it has something to do with what happened last year? 
Her words remind you of something that she said to you last year, back on the morning you confronted her after her drunken blunder which happened the night before. 
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking. I didn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s just drunk talking.” 
That incident shouldn’t be bothering you today. Yet it still makes you feel bitter when you think about it. The feeling only grows worse when you glance at Taehyung who is showing a sudden interest in this whole thing. 
“It’s fine. Sometimes things just don’t work out,” you simply repeat the same thing you said to your mother earlier while biting back the real question that is hanging right at the tip of your tongue. 
But what’s in it to you? 
No matter how curious you are to know what kind of scheme that is going through her pretty little head, you know it’s not worth all the drama that it might cause. You cannot even possibly imagine the drama that would unfold once this whole baby thing comes out.
God, just thinking about it is already making your stomach churn. Your lower abdomen suddenly feels hard and heavy. As if you have a full-size lead inside instead of a small, growing blob that is about to form into an actual living baby within a few weeks from now. 
Thinking about the baby, your eyes find the man who is behind all of this. He has grown oddly quiet while you were conversing with your stepsister and is now staring at his food with a frown on his face.
“So tell me,” you ask calmly while clenching your hands, doing your best to hide the trembles, “How did you two meet?”
This question immediately draws Taehyung’s attention. His eyes snap up, but the moment he looks at you, his face seems to grow pale and he becomes awfully nervous.
“We, uh—we used to work at the same company before Alia left to venture into other things,” he says, almost stuttering. He also keeps stealing glances at Alia, as if begging her to help him out. 
Huh, strange.
What is it about answering your simple question which makes him so nervous? 
Or perhaps…
Have they been seeing each other when the two of you hooked up? 
Fuck. 
The moment this thought crosses your mind, you suddenly feel sick. Your stomach grows heavier with anxiety. Meanwhile, Alia’s smile seems to beam brighter. 
“We didn’t work in the same division back then, but we would frequently meet during breaks and company hours. Had it been, what, a year after we last met?” Alia turns to Taehyung, who stiffly nods his head. She grabs his hand once again and looks at him lovingly as she continues, “We met again last summer by chance while I was travelling and started talking since then.” 
Last summer? But that was before—
Your head starts spinning. You grab your glass and take a couple of small sips of your tea to regain composure, yet the drink suddenly tastes bitter on your tongue. 
Honey’s voice barely registers in your brain when she responds with a hum. “Travelling in the summer? That sounds like a charming way to meet a new lover,” she says, lifting her mug to her lips as she continues marvelling at your stepsister’s story. “You must have felt some sparks when you two met. I bet you’re still feeling it now, aren’t you?”
You have no idea what she has inside that ceramic mug, as she had been nursing the same drink since even before dinner started. You can bet money that she had more than a pinch of rum dropped inside that drink of hers, seeing how talkative she is becoming. 
Oh, how you wish you could have a taste of it. Just a sip would have been good enough. Maybe it can also help to stop your hands from trembling. 
“And the ring?” Honey asks again with a teasing tone as she points at their entwined hands. “I noticed that you two are wearing matching rings. You can’t possibly be engaged already, can you?” 
Almost choking on your drink, you slowly set your glass back down and pull your hands onto your lap, hiding them from prying eyes just in time as they begin to shake.
“But it wasn’t that different back in the day,” Honey continues, “I remember that Russ—that’s my dear late husband,” she explains to Taehyung, “he bought me a cheap ring at the beginning of our relationship to show me and my parents that he was serious about courting me.” 
On any other times that Honey would speak about your late grandfather, you would always enjoy listening to every word, admiring how she would always share her story with pure love in her voice and wonder glowing in her eyes. 
But not this time. 
Ever since she pointed out the ring and started talking about your grandfather’s old promises, you start having trouble breathing. The more she speaks, the worse it gets, and now there is a ringing sound echoing in your ear that seems to be coming from different directions. 
“I still keep the ring with me, side by side with the wedding ring that doesn’t fit anymore on these wrinkly fingers of mine,” Honey keeps gushing. She raises her hands and starts wiggling her fingers to show them off, while your whole body grows tense. 
Alia shares a nervous laugh with Taehyung and waves her hand at Honey. “Oh, no…it’s actually a part of a joke that we—” 
You try to tune out the voices, the words that are being said, while clasping your hands tighter together on your lap, but the shaking doesn’t stop. Alia’s voice fades in and out beyond the loud ringing in your head as she continues to tell her story about how they started dating and the ring came to be. With everything that is going on, added with your awareness over Taehyung’s intense gaze that doesn’t seem to waver, it becomes too overwhelming that you feel as if you are slowly being swallowed into the ground beneath you. 
With a sharp gasp, you slowly push yourself out of your seat. “Excuse me, I have to—” your voice cracks as you speak. As you stand, you notice that everyone has their eyes on you, all curious to know what is happening with you. 
“_______?” you hear your mother calling you.
You can feel the blood draining from your face under all the unwanted attention, making you wish that you could just fade away right at that moment. But then your hand find its way to your stomach, and it almost feels like there is a touch of warmth forming under your palm. It helps you force a smile and gather yourself just enough to say, “I’m sorry, but I’m not feeling well, so I’m going to step out early. I hope that’s alright. You guys enjoy the rest of dinner.” 
You don’t wait for anyone’s response as you turn away, finding your escape merely moments before you get into a full-blown meltdown right in front of everyone. 
Your legs are wobbly as you walk down the hall, yet you still manage to slip into the guest bathroom downstairs. With trembling hands, you lock the door behind you, shutting yourself from the world outside. 
And that is when you fall apart, turning into a heaving mess as everything that you have been bottling up inside comes flooding out of you. 
“Breathe,” you command yourself while you fight back against your nausea. Holding onto the bathroom counter, you keep yourself and try your best to focus on controlling your breath. 
Take a slow, deep breath. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. 
Little by little, all the tension, the trembling, and the tightness in your chest begin to wane. But once everything is gone, once you begin to find calmness, your emotions seize control of you.
The next thing you know, an unstoppable flow of tears comes running down your face and you start sobbing, crying in defeat. 
“Shit. Fuck. What a mess,” you curse between each sob, feeling absolutely helpless and alone. You close your eyes, hoping that you can clear your head by doing so. Yet your mind keeps going to dark places. Constantly wondering and questioning about all of this. 
About him. 
“Did he ever mention anything that was related to his personal life that night?” you cannot help but wonder out loud. 
Only silence answers. Because you hold little to no recollection of the details from the conversation you shared with him that night. Whenever you try to remember, it always feels like there was a part of your memory that had gone missing. 
You haven’t had the slightest clue of the things you shared with him at the bar once the drinks started coming more frequently. Which is a wonder, because you are completely sure that neither of you had gotten drunk enough to experience a blackout, much less lose a memory.
At least for you, the alcohol was just enough to burn through your nerves and help build your confidence to take the lead and openly show the attraction you had for him. Even if he did end up taking back control the moment the two of you finally gave in to temptation. 
Your head starts pounding, aching the more you try to remember the missing details. Meanwhile, all the questions won’t stop coming, making it harder for you to regain a peaceful mind.
Did he ever mention having a girlfriend, or at least give any hint that he was taken? 
Was he wearing that ring on his finger when he was touching your skin under the dim light of his bedroom suite? 
You shake your head and close your eyes again when you still remember nothing. The only thing that remains in your memory is the look you saw in his gaze that night. The pitiful look that seemed to mirror yours, making you believe that he was looking for the same thing you did that night. 
An escape. A way to forget even if for a moment. 
But what if that was all just another lie? 
Your stomach churns. A sharp pain comes shooting through your body. It starts from your lower abdomen, causing you to almost double over. 
Fuck. Now what? 
Your hand instantly comes down to your stomach, pressing and rubbing gently against it until the uncomfortable ache ebbs under your touch. 
Right, I’m supposed to avoid any form of stress, you remind yourself as you recall what your doctor told you the last time you went to see her. Something about getting your blood tension rising when you are stressed, and that it wouldn’t be good for both you and the baby in the long run. Closing your eyes, you try to think of happy thoughts, all while keeping your palm pressed on your stomach.
To your surprise, rubbing your palm against the barely-there baby bump on your belly isn’t just helping you to soothe the pain away, but also to calm yourself down. 
With a sigh, you gently wipe your tears and look down. “I’m sorry for swearing so much, baby. I promise to stop doing it once you’ve grown big enough to start hearing things so you won’t learn any of it too soon. But fuck, this is too much.” 
It feels odd to speak like this to the living being growing inside you that is barely more than a piece of flesh. Yet speaking to your growing baby seems to help ease your anxiety a little. 
Better yet, it helps make you feel less alone. 
“Let’s not think any bad thoughts. Let’s not assume that your Dad is an asshole, okay? Not until we get to hear the full story,” you whisper to the tiny human growing inside you. The more you speak to it, the more it seems to be helping you to find some ease of mind. 
But even if it turns out that he was…
“Then I can deal with it later with my head held high,” you murmur to yourself in a soft, yet reassuring tone of voice. And you repeat it again, and again, almost as if you are chanting a spell which would be able to give you a boost of confidence. 
It may not immediately change the way you look at things, yet you can feel it slowly rising within you. It feels like a ray of light, the first spark of hope that you get to feel amid all the uncertainty which surrounds you.
Soon enough, the strong urge to cry no longer overcomes you. Even your hands have stopped shaking. All that you have left is exhaustion. It rolls through your body with a vengeance, and there is nothing that you want more right now other than to curl up like a ball on your bed and sleep it off. 
You raise your head to look at yourself in the mirror, and instantly a bitter laugh escapes you at what you are seeing.
Because you look like a complete mess. Your life is slowly turning into shambles, and it seems to be mocking you through your own reflection that is now staring back at you. 
“Just exactly what I need,” you whisper with a sigh.
I need to be stronger, if only for the sake of this little one in me, you tell yourself as you splash cold water at your face to wash away all the mess—the drying tears, your swollen eyes, and the skin on your face which has yet to regain its normal colours. 
It feels therapeutic to be washing everything off, leaving nothing more but your swollen eyes which you can explain as a part of your sickness. You may not be strong enough to take on the world, but at least now, you are prepared to face the reality that is waiting for you right outside of this door. 
No matter how fucking messy it is. 
Having this new revelation should be giving you a newfound credence that could push you forward. And yet there is none of that here. The only thing you are feeling now is the new bout of anxiety rolling up through your body, starting from your stomach as it churns painfully.
“Yeah, now I feel sick,” you groan as you rush to the toilet bowl, seconds away before you start dumping the small amount of food you had during dinner into waste. 
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It takes a bit longer than expected before you finally find the courage to step out of the bathroom. 
Soft murmurs filter into the bathroom the moment you open the door. You can tell that the voices are coming from the living room, which means that the family has gathered there after dinner. It allows you to breathe a sigh of relief. At least this way you wouldn’t have to hide or make excuses if you have to bump into someone on your way to your bedroom.
Stepping out of the bathroom, you are relieved that nobody is around. Everyone should be in the living room, so you make haste, hoping to be able to escape before anyone notices. 
But as you turn to the next hallway, someone is standing in your way. The light is dim, yet you can easily recognise him before you get any closer. Standing with his back leaning against the wall, he has his hands tucked into his pockets and his eyes looking absently into the distance. 
As though he has been waiting for you. 
Taehyung turns when he notices you coming. Before you can start to wonder what he is doing here, a smile grows on his face.
“Hey, is everything okay? Everyone was worried,” he asks you, sounding genuinely concerned. 
The calm tone of his voice might be a bit deceiving if only you are not looking into his eyes. His gaze keeps wavering as he speaks, as if he is unable to look at you for too long. The same guilt you saw earlier is still present in his eyes. And you hate seeing it there. 
It only tells you that he has a secret that he is keeping from you. You have no idea how to feel about it. But if it has to do with his relationship with Alia, then—
“I’m fine, it’s just—” 
Your cheeks grow warm the moment you speak, feeling embarrassed at how dry your voice sounds. “It’s nothing. You heard my Mom, I’ll be better in no time.” 
You have so many things to say to him. So many questions that you would like to give him. But you are too tired to do anything. Much less to talk. As much as you can convince yourself that you are ready to face anything, now is not the right time to do it. 
So you keep your mouth shut and try to walk past him instead. Only that he isn’t letting you go that easily. 
“You know, it really is nice to see you again, Red.” 
His voice sounds so subdued that you almost miss it. You come to a halt. Your heartbeat starts picking up again. If you ever needed confirmation that the sinful night you shared with him truly happened, and that he remembered any part of it, then this is it. 
His comment which instantly brings you back to that fateful night. The nickname that he used to call you then.
You close your eyes, refusing to remember the way he managed to draw out a myriad of sensations with his voice alone. You refuse to be brought back there again. Not now, when your mind isn’t clear enough to be dealing with this. Taking a deep breath, you compose yourself just enough to face him.
Only to be met with his amused smile as he looks at you. 
“I was surprised to see you. I never would have thought that you could somehow be related to Alia.” He lets out a chuckle. It sounds empty and a bit bitter, mirroring exactly how you are feeling right now. 
Your chest feels tight, hating the way he is saying her name. Nor do you enjoy seeing the way his gaze changes when he does it. Annoyance fills your chest that you can barely speak, while he remains in his blissful ignorance as he continues talking, 
“Funny how life works, doesn’t it? I kept thinking about you after we met and wondered if we would ever see each other again. I regretted that I didn’t ask for your number before we parted ways. I didn’t even get to ask for your real name.” 
The tightness in your chest grows tenfold. 
You never admitted it before—not to yourself, and not even to Skye, when you first talked about him—yet there was some point between that night and the day you found out about the pregnancy that you spent your nights wondering if you would ever see him again. 
If there had been one thing that you regretted about that night, it would be the decision you made to leave the next morning without asking for his real name or leaving any means of contact. 
A night to escape from reality. 
That was all it meant for you at the time. So when the morning came, it was time for you to return to reality. Your reality. Your real life. And you were too busy preparing yourself to face all the hurt, the bad memories, and the stressful life that had nothing to do with the desirable woman that he brought into his bed the night before to even consider exchanging contacts with him. 
It didn’t matter if you were still riding the high of that night’s self-gratification and wanton pleasure through the rest of your trip. The moment everything ended, you simply moved on from it. Putting everything about that night to the back of your mind as you returned to your normal life and quickly fell back into your normal routine. 
Until weeks later, when life decided to fuck you over and you ended up with a baby growing inside you, and you had no way to find or contact him to inform him about it. 
“I guess it can’t be helped, given the circumstances.” Your conviction quickly melts into dread once you are reminded of the current circumstances. “It’s kinda too late now to talk about it and regret what didn’t happen, don’t you think? Seeing that you’re now dating my stepsister.” 
Taehyung winces. For a brief moment, you almost believe you can see a glimpse of hurt flickering through his gaze. And for some reason, it only pisses you off. 
So he doesn’t like being reminded of the fact that he is here for someone else? 
“Look, about Alia. I was hoping that we could talk. Maybe when all of this is done, or maybe after the holidays we can—” 
He continues talking, but you aren’t hearing anything. The questions that flooded your brain earlier come flashing back. The ringing that pained you returns. Everything lasts for a few more seconds before your mind clears out, and only one question remains. 
“Were the two of you already dating when we slept together?” 
He falls silent, taken aback. 
“No!” he immediately says, almost shouting. But he quickly reins himself before his voice would reach where everyone is and draw their attention. “Fuck, no. Is that why you’ve been sulking all through dinner?” he asks you with a hiss. He seems offended and hurt at the same time. “I’m not that kind of guy. Trust me.” 
“Sulking?” you let out an incredulous laugh. Is that how he saw it? When you were coming close to breaking apart right in front of everyone because of him? 
“How am I supposed to trust you when I barely know you? How am I supposed to know that you’re telling the truth?” you snap back at him with a hiss. “Just because we fucked it doesn’t mean that I’d magically know everything about you.” 
Again, he winces at your question. As if your words come to him like a slap on his face. He takes a deep breath and speaks more calmly in response, “Look, we should talk. Soon. I can explain everything. But not now, okay?” 
As much as you hate to admit it, or to agree with him, you decide that he is right. There are a lot of things that you need to discuss with him, and now is not the right time to do it. Not when your emotions are all over the place and when he has his girlfriend keeping him in close sight most of the time. 
“I agree. We do need to talk,” you finally agree, even though you know that both of you have different things in mind. 
You have no idea what he intends to discuss with you. The only thing that matters to you is to talk about the baby that you conceived together. And hopefully, decide what will happen next. 
“I should go,” you sigh, feeling exhausted and drained. “I need to lie down. This is too much for me to process.” 
You try to walk around him so you can continue on your way. Your head is pounding, and you have the dire need to rest in your comfortable bed, where you would be able to feel safe and hide away from all of this. 
“Wait,” Taehyung stops you before you can go too far. 
“What?” you ask him, feeling exasperated—both from the stress and from the way your body still tingles each time you hear his voice. You really need to get away from him. 
“Nothing, it’s just…” he starts, suddenly looking nervous with what he is about to say. The sound of laughter echoes from the living room, making him glance over his shoulder briefly before speaking to you with a lowered voice, “Can you do me a favour?” 
You frown at him. “What is it?” 
He looks wary, and it makes you feel uneasy in the stomach as you wait for him to speak. 
But what he says next makes you feel even worse. “Please don’t tell Alia that we’ve met before, more importantly that we hooked up that night.” 
You say nothing at first. Even if you are well aware of the situation and where Alia’s position in all of this, it still doesn’t stop the sharp pain you feel in your chest as he mentions her name, or to express his request. 
Taehyung steps closer when you remain quiet. His voice comes as a desperate whisper when he pleads with you, “Please? Can you do this for me?” 
You grit your teeth. “Fine, I won’t,” you finally say to him. But you refuse to give in that easily.
Taking a step closer to him, you point at him and demand him, “But you need to tell her.” 
He clenches his jaw as he listens to your demands, but you ignore it and continue to talk. “She needs to know—” your voice nearly wavers, because you know what would happen once everything is revealed. 
Telling your stepsister that you had slept with her boyfriend would not only be hard, but it would be ugly. 
But it would be better than keeping it a secret for much longer. Because secrets don’t always remain hidden, no matter how hard you try to keep them in the shadows. And things would even get messier once the baby comes while she is still being kept in the dark. 
It’s better to bite the bullet as soon as possible, rather than waiting and living your life in uncertainty until the day comes. 
“If you don’t, and we keep this a secret much longer, things might get messier if she somehow finds out on her own. The last thing I’d ever want is to get into any drama. Not with her,” you try to convince Taehyung, despite him looking like he would rather bolt and have nothing to do with any of this. 
After all the drama that happened last year, the last thing you need is to get involved in another. 
“I’ll tell her myself if necessary.” There is a bite in your voice when you are telling him all of this. To his credit, Taehyung—despite looking shell-shocked and cornered—seems to respect and understand your request. 
He lowers his head and nods. “Give me time. I’ll—” 
You are surprised to see him looking defeated. It makes you wonder if there is something more about their relationship that you need to know before going further. 
As Taehyung raises his head again, he seems more resolved. He looks straight into your eyes as he promises, “I’ll tell her myself once I get the chance to. I promise. But we’re going to have that talk first, and soon.” 
“It’s a promise.” You bite back the ache that suddenly pierces through your heart, seeing how he is so adamant about protecting his relationship with your stepsister. Trying not to look too deep into it and get yourself hurt further, you avoid looking into his gaze and start walking away from him. 
“Goodnight then—” you whisper to him as you turn away from him, biting back the sound of your defeat when you call his name, “Tae.” 
The moment you are within the safety of your bedroom, your knees buckle. Thankfully, you still manage to close the door and lock it behind you, once again shutting yourself from everyone to give you some moment of peace.
Although it doesn’t stop him from entering your mind in the silence that follows. 
As you lie down in your bed, curled up in a fetal position with your arms wrapped around yourself, your mind wanders back to the conversation you just had with Taehyung in the hallway. 
You can’t help it. His words keep coming back to you, and you keep finding yourself dissecting everything he said. You close your eyes, and keep telling yourself to stop. The situation that you are dealing with right now already seems absurd enough for you to waste your energy trying to understand him. 
You begin to wonder if things would have been better if you hadn’t come across each other again. Things would probably turn out differently. You may have to keep the baby’s existence a secret from him, and the truth about the father a secret from your family. 
You may have to deal with everything yourself. 
The possibility seems petrifying, but it still sounds a lot better than having to go against your stepsister. Better than causing your frail relationship to become even worse. This time, you know that this would be big enough to ruin any chance for you and your stepsister to have any kind of relationship at all. 
He was right. It’s funny how life works. If only it doesn’t have to be this hard to laugh it off. 
Stop it. 
Keeping your eyes closed, you let out a deep sigh and force yourself to think about something else. Anything. As long as you are not thinking about him. His face, his voice, the scent of his cologne, everything that belongs to him. 
Your head starts swimming. No, everything about him now belongs to someone else. 
Once again, you force yourself to start thinking of less stressful things. Like Skye’s text message from this afternoon suggesting that you could run away with her to a secluded place somewhere in Europe so that the two of you could raise the baby together. Or the little stories that Honey shared about the cute new gardener now working at her apartment complex—the complex specifically built for elders like herself—that she wanted to introduce to you the next time you come by to visit.
You regret forgetting to pick up the smoothie that your mother made for you while you were throwing up in the bathroom, all due to Taehyung’s distraction. You wonder if having the smoothie would be able to help you feel better. Picturing the drink being left attended in the kitchen, you can picture your grandmother—the sweet little mischievous angel that she is—sneaking in a few drops of rum into the smoothie when your mother isn’t looking. 
This thought makes you smile. It replaces every ugly thoughts that keep circling inside your mind and calms you down. 
Your heartbeat is no longer beating like crazy. The more you fill your head with wonderful thoughts, the sooner the uneasy feeling in your stomach begins to wane. 
And soon enough, you start drifting away to a restless sleep. 
But just like how he invaded your home with his sudden appearance, Taehyung invades your sleep once your mind is left unguarded. 
Speaking to him, albeit briefly, brings you back to that night. The moment you close your eyes, you start seeing everything from back then that you couldn’t remember in your waking hours. Even the smallest details that your conscious mind has forgotten. Everything comes crashing down on you as you toss and turn in your bed, unable to give in completely to a peaceful slumber as memories continue to flood your dreams. 
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Six weeks ago…
You opened your eyes and squinted. 
The overhead lamp above your head was bright, and it was hurting your eyes. You could barely see a thing through your bleary eyes, until your gaze drifted further, looking into the dimly lit bedroom far across the foyer. 
The room looked more spacious than yours, albeit a bit messy. The massive bed looked comfortable, and there were two lounge seats set up near the windows that looked more luxurious than the ones you had in your room. 
“Your bedroom seems a lot more cozy than mine.” 
The words came out of your lips with a moan. The sound seemed foreign. Barely recognisable through your hazy mind. But there was a familiar sensation slowly rising in your body that hadn’t at all come from the alcoholic drinks you were having tonight. 
“Hmmm…You think so?”
A deep, sultry voice spoke as a pair of hot lips made their way down the side of your neck, tracing your skin with delicate kisses that made it even harder for you to think straight. 
Shivers ran down your body. Heat rolled through your chest. And it almost seemed to you that your skin was becoming even more sensitive to the touch when even the most subtle caress of his fingers was able to light up your senses. 
Right after the voice spoke to you, he suddenly switched and started kissing his way up. You blinked, and his face came into view just as he looked down at you. The beautiful face that captivated you when you first met him at the bar was presented right before your eyes. 
So close. So tempting. And his eyes were so intense that you nearly lost your breath. He smiled and leaned down, capturing your lips with a kiss. 
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he murmured against your lips, drawing another moan out of you which snapped you from your daze. 
You sighed as you gave in to the chaste kiss he was giving you. “It’s kind of hard to look around and see anything when you have me pinned to the door.” 
He let out a soft chuckle and once again pressed his lips on yours. As if he was both pleased and amused that he got to put you in this position. When he pulled back, the look in his eyes softened. 
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. It’s all your fault for teasing me all the way here while I couldn’t allow myself to touch you with so many eyes paying attention,” he said without any hint of regret in his voice. 
“Well, forgive me because I wasn’t aware,” you taunted him back, knowing fully well what you had done to tease him until he was on the verge of breaking apart even before you reached his hotel suite. 
As much as you wanted to hold back, you were quite sure that you hadn’t gotten things wrong. You couldn’t have possibly mistaken the chemistry that kept sparking between you. And the way he kept openly staring at your body was enough to make his intention clear, as his eyes seemed more honest than the words he gave you. 
But back at the bar, you had let him be the first one to make the move. 
With his sturdy hands, he was the one who pulled your seat closer. By placing his arm on your backrest, it may have seemed as if he was marking his territory for anyone else at the hotel bar to see. Normally, something like this would’ve put you off. But there was something in the way he did it that made you feel otherwise, allowing you to give in and lean more into his warmth instead of pushing him away. 
That was when you reciprocated his actions with your own. The light and subtle touches of your fingers on his arm drew soft shudders through his body. The accidental brushes that happened when you moved against his body pushed him into wrapping his arm around you, keeping you close before he finally pulled you out of the bar. 
When you leaned close enough to whisper softly against his ear, you could feel goosebumps rising on his skin, his heartbeat escalating under your palm, and he could barely hold himself back from devouring your lips right there at the hotel lobby. Right where everyone could see you falling into pieces under your sinful desire.
By the time you were alone with him in the elevator, the tension between you just kept escalating until he finally snapped. 
He nearly dragged you across the hallway leading to his bedroom suite in his rush to get you alone. The moment he pulled you in through the door, every bit of his composure simply left him. He barely gave you a chance to catch a single glance of the suite, as he immediately pushed your body against the door and kept you there. 
Until this moment. 
His eyes grew dark after listening to your answer. His breath is still ragged after the hot kiss that he gave you once he got you pinned between his hard body and the locked door behind you. 
With his broad chest locking you in place, his hips pressing against your lower body, he left you with nowhere else to go. But this didn’t seem to be enough for him. Looking into his eyes, you could tell that he needed to see you become even more vulnerable. Almost as if he wanted to punish you for putting him on the edge. 
And he did exactly that as he slipped one hand around your neck and pulled your hair, tilting your head back so that he could continue exploring the column of your throat with his sinful lips. Instead of resisting it, you simply gave in. Arching your back to him further as he trailed kisses on your skin, your hands clutching on his jacket to hold on. 
He used his other hand to explore the rest of your body. Starting from your waist, he continued to move further down to your hips. Tracing every curve, every dent along your body with his firm fingers pressing through your thin dress. 
Just as he was about to reach the hem of your dress, he suddenly stopped and pulled back. 
“Tell me again. Are you sure this is what you want?” His voice was quiet when he asked you this. It sounded as though he was caught between convincing himself that this was happening while giving you an out for one last time before getting too deep. 
But you had gone deep. 
And you knew then that the moment you let everything happen, there was no going back from it. Everything about this was new to you; hooking up with a complete stranger while you were in the middle of nowhere, and knowing that once the night was over, both of you were going to move on with your lives. 
It felt thrilling to think about it, and the liquid courage should help you in letting go of your inhibitions. Yet you couldn’t deny the fact that you are feeling slightly nervous about jumping fully into this. 
When you failed to answer him, Tae leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss right below your ear and whispered, “Well? Talk to me. Because there is no going back from this once we begin, and I won’t let you go until you tell me what you want.” 
The way his breath tickled your ear and caressed your skin broke you out of the walls you put up. Every flicker of doubt you felt immediately melted. You brushed against him, allowing him to feel every bit of heat coursing through your body before you answered with a whisper, “Yes. I’ve never been so sure in my whole life.” 
You could feel the way his breath was caught as you pressed your palm on his chest. Pressing against him, you raised yourself up and nipped his chin with your teeth. 
“This is what I want.” 
You weren’t completely sure if you ever got to finish your sentence when all of a sudden, his lips came crashing into yours, pressing firmly as he kissed you, barely concealing his desire for more. 
The kiss unleashed your own desire. You opened your mouth for him in return, allowing him to devour you, to have a taste of your demands as he thoroughly kissed you until you were left breathless in his arms. 
His hand began to move again just then. Tracing down your hips, he pressed the tips of his fingers harder into your flesh. He made it seem as if your dress had melted into your skin with the heat of his touch that you felt completely exposed to him. And he didn’t stop until he finally found the exposed skin of your thigh. 
Your body quivered upon contact, and you could tell that he felt it too. He began stroking your skin, moving at a slow, agonising pace just to put you on the edge. 
And he easily succeeded. Already, you could barely breathe, even when he was still far from touching any part of your body that needed him the most. 
Overcame with need, your body started moving on instinct. As if his touches were controlling you as you lifted your thigh for him. His grip on your thigh tightened, helping you to keep your leg up and open yourself to him while his kiss became sloppy yet gentle as he released his hold on your hair. 
He moved his other hand down, brushing against your covered breast with a brief contact and continued trailing down. You felt him pressing at your hips, before pulling the hem of your dress upward until your lower region was completely exposed. His hand continued its travel as it climbed up your inner thigh. So you opened your legs to give him better access. A move which he appreciated with a deep hum, before you felt his thumb brushing up just an inch away from your throbbing core. 
“Should we move this someplace else? Somewhere that would be more comfortable for us?” he asked you with his lips hovering close to yours. 
It took a moment for his words to sink in. Too lost in the sensation that you were made to feel, you felt as if you were drunk and high, not from the alcohol that was no longer running wildly through your veins, but from his entire presence alone. 
All thoughts faded further as his thumb grazed across the front of your panties, finding your folds through the fabric before he pressed down, enough to give pressure on your covered clit. Sparks flew through your half-lidded eyes as pleasure came rushing through you in waves. You couldn’t stop the moan slipping out of your lips, nor the way your hips rocked into his touch to feel more. 
“So responsive,” he murmured against your neck before he planted a light kiss on your skin. “I would have loved to watch and enjoy every reaction that you would give me, every sound you make, while I have you lie down on my bed and fuck you senseless.” 
Your breath hitched and caught in your chest. Not only because of his words, but also from the way his thumb continued to rub against your covered clit. It felt sinful, yet so delectable the way he kept drawing more and more sparks and shuddering pleasure through your body.
After being deprived of such attention for quite some time, your body became more sensitive to every friction, every treatment he was giving you, and you simply wanted more. 
“Then take me there. Take me to your bed.” 
As if you had flicked a switch in his brain, his expression changed. His gaze darkened as he captured your lips with unrestrained need, yet he was careful when he picked you up, pressing you against his chest when he turned and moved to take you away from the door.
You wrapped your arms and legs around him for balance, while your lips remained locked in a deep kiss. You could feel his long stride as he began carrying you across the room. His kiss and his firm hold on your bottom cheeks were enough to draw your attention away from his clumsy footsteps, but not enough to deny you from sensing the changes happening around you.
The scent of his cologne grew thicker as he went deeper into the room, and you were getting more and more lost in him. Drowned in his heat, his kiss, and the traces that he had left behind all over his bedroom, you felt him everywhere all at once that you felt like you were being put under a spell. 
All so suddenly, you were pulled out of it when he broke away from the kiss. He laid you gently over the cold white sheets of his partly-made bed. Instead of joining you right away, he chose to pull back. His eyes seemed to glint in the dimly lit room as he took this moment to take you in. 
“Beautiful,” he murmured softly, drawing heat back to your face. 
He kept his eyes on you as he shrugged off his jacket and began peeling his shirt from his chest. Desire pulsed through your body as you watched every move he was making without ever drawing his attention away from you. 
The more you watched him, the stronger the pull that you felt towards him. Once the need to touch him took over, you reached up and tugged on his pants, hoping that you could quickly shred them off of his body. 
You barely grazed against his covered hard-on when he stopped you by catching your wrists. Like a disappointed teacher, he made a disapproval sound with his tongue. 
“Patience, Red,” he teasingly said to you as he grabbed the hem of your dress and pulled it off of you with one swift move. You fell back to the bed with a gasp, shocked to see how easy it was for him to take over until you were left with nothing more but your lacy underthings. 
The intensity you felt from his gaze made you want to wrap your arms around yourself and hide. But being half inebriated was making you slow in thoughts and movement that you couldn’t do anything but lay still. At the same time, you enjoyed the way he was looking at you, loving how he was losing himself to you the same way you did to him. 
But it was the words that he said next that further brought out your wanton needs.
“Be a good girl and stay still. I want you to stay just like this,” he said with a murmur while his eyes ran down your body, “I want you to lie on your back while you are screaming out my name.” 
If only you hadn’t been so lost for words, perhaps you would have challenged him in return. Instead, by the time every piece of his clothing was gone, you felt like you had melted further into the sheets. The raw passion you saw in his gaze and the way he was tracing his fingertips on your skin had locked you completely in place, leaving you with no other option but to surrender as he took control.
He bent down, his lips came down to your neck. Planting his kisses on your skin, he kept your attention away from his hands as he snapped off your bra and went down to pull your panties down your hips. As he dragged your panties down your bare legs, he continued his kisses further down, not stopping until he reached your heaving chest. 
You couldn’t even remember what happened to that flimsy piece of fabric that he took from you. Everything else faded as his tongue grazed across your chest, drawing a gasp out of your lips. His firm hands returned to your hips right then, holding you down while he captured your taut nipple between his teeth. 
The feeling that coursed through you was heavenly. A shooting pain came with a flare as he bit down, yet it was quickly replaced with an overwhelming feeling of pleasure when he lapped the pain away with his sinful tongue. 
“Tae—”
His body quivered against yours at the sound of your voice. He pulled away with a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he watched you arching your chest as if you were chasing him. 
He ran his gaze down your body. Perusing you while silently admiring what he was seeing while he licked his lips. As if he was picturing the way you would taste. 
“Tell me how badly you want this, Red,” he taunted you with his hand reaching out to the nightstand. You vaguely saw him grabbing a condom while you were struggling to breathe. Your eyes fell on his exposed, throbbing cock, and words simply left you. 
Seeing its impressive size and girth, your entire body erupted with a pulse. It started from deep inside your core, right where you wanted to feel him the most. Astonished, you failed to remember that he was still waiting for your answer with his eyes locked on your face. 
And he made you struggle further to find words when he reached down, wrapping his long fingers around his cock and started giving himself slow, lazy strokes. You could see the bead of his pre-cum glistening under the dim lighting. It took everything in you to stop yourself from leaning forward and lapping him dry. To have a taste, before you let him devour every drop of your essence. 
“Red? Talk to me,” he spoke to you again with a curious tone in his voice. 
He knew that he wasn’t getting any attention, as your eyes were locked only at one place that was not his face, and he seemed to be curious to know what was making you so lost in thoughts. 
Instead of answering him, you continued to watch, completely transfixed by his actions, as he slowly spread his pre-cum along the length of his cock. You licked your lips, almost as if you could taste him. A barely concealed whimper slipped out of your lips when you watched him slowly roll the condom to cover himself from the tip of his cock and down to the base. 
Seeing him covered with protection seemed to snap you back to the present. Even if your pulsing need still refused to tame down. 
Resting back against the pillows, you dragged your eyes away from his impressive cock to his beautiful face. 
“I want you here. Inside me,” you finally responded to his question. Placing your palms on the underside of your thighs, you parted your legs open, making him see the mess that had been building up right between your legs while you were enjoying the show he was giving you. 
Now it was your turn to give him a show. 
Reaching between your legs, you moved your fingers to find your folds. You bit back a gasp once the tips of your fingers were met with your wet arousal. It felt slick as you moved your fingers around, parting your nether lips so he could see your swollen clit, before you moved your fingers in circles, pressing at yourself the exact same way you wished he would. 
“Please, fuck me, Tae. Fuck me good.” 
His pupils dilated at the sound of your voice, at the pleading words you were giving him. You loved the way he was reacting to you just as much as he did with you, yet you decided to push his buttons further by adding, “And then I want to hear you scream my name while you cum inside me.” 
He raised his eyebrows. “What a little brat,” he said, chuckling. “So you like to play games, hmmm?” 
You bit your bottom lip, holding back a moan that was threatening to come out when your touch inadvertently pushed against the source of your heat. “Oh, I do. Games are always fun.” 
While he continued stroking his cock at a lazy pace, he used the other hand to grab your neck. His palm fit perfectly as he wrapped it around the column of your throat, putting pressure that was not enough to choke you, yet enough to show you who was in control. 
“Then let’s play,” he groaned while he pressed you back down on the bed. “But this time, I make the rules.” 
You felt the electrifying pleasure surging through your body as he brushed your hand away and lined himself against your entrance, shutting down the circuits inside your brain for a moment and stopping you from wiggling too much beneath him just to feel more friction. 
A sharp moan was drawn from your lips as Tae slammed his full length deep inside you. The sensation that you felt from being filled by his width was so feral and explosive that you were sure you immediately experienced your orgasm right then and there. 
Your body must have been shaking, which was a response that you failed to notice as you had your senses filled with the steady pulse of pleasure pressing across the girth of his cock. He must have noticed it when he came to a halt, giving you a chance to process everything and adjust to his presence inside you.
Nothing made sense to you beyond the pulsing pleasure that you felt from your hot pussy. Your senses were filled with the sound of your racing heartbeat, the soothing touch of his fingers on your skin, and the whispers of his voice calling you back to him. 
He only managed to bring you back to the present by pressing gentle kisses on your lips, nose, and then on the rest of your face, stopping only after he kissed your lips again to draw your attention back to him. 
Your legs were quivering when you opened your eyes to see him, yet you could already tell from the way the pulses that came right where you were joined started to settle, that your body had adjusted perfectly to his size. 
But it didn’t mean that you would simply take it without sharing your thoughts. 
“You’re—big,” you complained with a soft moan when you felt him growing harder inside you. It didn’t stop you from rocking your hips, trying to feel more friction, while he merely chuckled at your words. 
“And it’s perfect for your tight pussy.” 
His words drew a gasp from you. But he didn’t pay much attention to it, as he slowly began to move. He started with a slow pace, which was torturous and agonising, forcing you to feel the delectable way his girth was brushing against your pulsing walls. 
Back and forth he went, going so deep you could almost feel him pressing up your stomach before pulling out until only the tip was buried inside you. He kept moving at the same pace, until you began to feel more desperate. Even your body was shaking with the need to feel more. 
“More—!” you whispered with a strangled moan, “go faster.” 
Hearing this, instead of doing what you were begging him to, Tae denied your plea by doing the opposite. With a wicked grin on his face, the fucker slowed down, bringing the pleasure that had been rising back down a notch. 
You opened your mouth to protest against it, and he moved his hands down your hips, stopping at your thighs where he gave you a tight grip. 
“You want more?” he asked you, his voice almost seemed to grow deeper, and you could feel a tinge of danger when he spoke. The same danger you saw coming through his gaze as he slowly brought your legs up. 
You expected him to stop once he got your legs up his shoulders. But he just kept going. And going. Until you were nearly folded with your legs almost pressed to your chest.
“Tae—!” 
It made you feel vulnerable, with nothing but your hands to use to hold on while he had full control of your body. He was still buried inside you, and this position allowed you to feel him more. As though you had grown tighter around him and he was growing bigger. His entire length and width made you feel full, as his cock was pressing tightly against your hot walls. 
“You wanted more,” he murmured as he began moving, rocking his hips slowly back and forth, going in and out of you, drawing more and more of that shuddering pleasure out of your body as he continued fucking you gently. “I’m giving you more.” 
He began increasing his pace. Going faster the more he heard you moaning in pleasure. “Lift your arms, Red. Bring them up and hold the pillows.” 
It took a moment for his words to register in your head. Your hands had been clutching tightly on his forearms and it was a struggle to let go. And he waited, tormenting you by keeping his pace much too slow to your liking until you followed his command. 
Your hands trembled as you unlatched them from his skin. You could barely feel your fingers as you dragged your hands up, as every part of your body grew more sensitive the more you opened your entire self to him. Keeping your eyes on him, you got lost in his intense gaze. 
It was then when you finally came in contact with the soft pillows above your head, and your fingers easily sank into them, latching onto them as you did when you were holding onto his arms.
“That’s it. Good girl,” he murmured gently, and you were pleasantly surprised to realise how much you loved hearing his praise. Warmth bloomed in your chest, and it easily made its way down right to your core. “Now hold on tightly and don’t let go.” 
And you did just that. Holding on tightly the way he wanted you to. 
Only once he gained complete control of your body, once you fully submitted to him, he finally fulfilled your wish. He held firmly on your thighs to keep them folded and open for him, and he began ramming his cock deep inside you. 
He was doing it faster. Harder. Sending you high in pleasure while all you could do was take his constant pounding. The only leverage you had to hold on was the tight hold you had on the pillows and the weight of his body that was pressing you down each time he pushed deeply inside you. 
The anomalous sounds coming out of both of your lips kept bouncing off the walls. Followed by the sound of flesh clashing against flesh, the slick sounds that came from right where you were joined, and the creaking sound of the bed beneath you. 
He kept going, relentless in his rough thrusts and his need to push you over the edge, until you could feel the rise of your orgasm coming in waves. The wanton pleasure that was hot and intense came rising inside you, growing rapidly with his deep thrusts until you finally succumbed to it, coming into your climax with a scream. 
“Tae, I’m coming,” you cried out to him as you fell over the edge, though you weren’t completely sure if the words coming out of your lips were as coherent as you thought they would have been. 
The sound of your pounding heartbeat seemed to drown everything away. Except that you could still hear the sound of his breathless grunts as they grew clearer, and the strangled moan that came out of him when he shouted, “That’s it, Red. Fuck, I’m coming!”
With a sharp intake of breath, he came to his climax. You felt every pulse of his release as he came inside you, and the tremble in his chest that surged through him with his deep groan as he relished the pleasure. Even after his release, he kept moving, rocking slowly and steadily until the spasms of your orgasm slowly began to wane down. 
He remained buried inside you when he gently released you from his hold. You could barely feel his lips pressing on your quivering thighs before he lowered them back on the mattress, yet his gentle fingers remained hot on your skin when he brushed up against you. 
He reached up and gently pried your fingers away from the pillows before slipping his fingers between yours. The way your fingers were entwined together felt so intimate. So unlike anything that you had ever thought about what a one-night stand would entail. 
Your body felt hot, and your muscles were lax, but there was a series of small spasms still going strong from deep inside you, coaxed by his incessant rocking. You should have been pushing him off of you, instead of embracing his weight as he lowered himself, covering your body with his own. 
“Tae—” you whimpered against his lips as he kissed you. Holding your hands in his, he continued to rock his hips. 
How he managed to remain so hard and stiff even after his climax was beyond you. He still felt thick as he moved. His cock brushed against your pulsing walls as he went in and out, awakening all sparks of pleasure that were supposed to have dwindled. 
And with how sensitive your body was, it rose and peaked so quickly and you had no power to stop it. 
“Too…much…” you cried between the strangled moans coming out of your lips, right before he swallowed them with another kiss. 
“One more,” he groaned as he picked up his pace. “Just do it one more time for me, Red.” 
You were so sensitive it was beginning to hurt, but the pleasure was also maddening that you didn’t want to stop. This time, he wasn’t holding you down so strongly, allowing you to move beneath him. So you rocked back against him, pushing up each time he was thrusting into you. It only took a couple of more strokes before the coil in your core snapped, and you were sent to another climax. 
And he joined you in your release, falling into a smaller climax of his own as you clenched tightly around him. 
He came with a deep groan. His whole body quaked against you before he finally fell on top of you. While you were trying to control your breath, his lips came brushing your neck, kissing you gently to help soothe down the shudders running through your body.
“Fuck…so perfect,” he sighed between his kisses, his voice came in and out through your senses, and the sparks you felt rushing through your body started waning as you were slowly drifting away into the night, with his words echoing in your dreams,
“You are perfect.” 
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Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading so far. Any likes, kudos, comments, and feedbacks will be appreciated. The story continues in part 2.
© All rights reserved. 2024 Yoonia — Unauthorized use and/or duplication of these works, including reposting, translating and modification in any form, is strictly prohibited. 
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vandnana · 1 year
Text
Your Protector (i)
pairing: neteyam x female omaticaya reader (best friends to lovers)
summary: You and Neteyam grew up together, always knowing the feelings you had for each other, but too shy to vocalize it. But, when you leave with the Sullys to seek refuge with the metkayina people, Neteyam can’t help but finally tell you...after seeing you with Aonung
genre: fluff, *smut [at the end]
warnings: kissing, sensual scenes, jealousy
*characters are aged up*
word count: 6000+
— kinda slow burn, but definitely a lot of tension, follows the general story line with many moments between you and him 
[part 2 is here!] [part 3 (finale)]
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Neteyam. He always liked to call himself your protector and you hated it. You always told him you could protect yourself. It was one of those things that he admired about you. You could do just about anything. You were practically perfect to him. Nothing could ever change his mind about that. You were his best friend, but the pressure he felt everywhere else always stopped him from ever telling you how much he really loved you, how he sees you and no one else.
You and Neteyam were inseparable since the day you met and you thought that it would always be that way. He was the only person that made you feel courageous and shy at the same time, but you did a pretty good job hiding how you felt about him.
Until he told you that he would have to leave the forest.
“How can I stay here knowing that you are out there?” You yelled, tears falling from your eyes.
He stepped forward, yelling back at you, “Y/n, this is for the people, to protect you all. I-“ Neteyam stopped himself when you averted your eyes from him, not wanting to listen.
He took hold of your arms, but you pushed him away. “Do not touch me.”
Still, he inched closer to you, but you backed away, your tears pouring over your face, angry cries escaping from your mouth.
Seeing you cry hurt him, but Neteyam did his best to sound strong, even though the thought of leaving you broke his heart too.
“I cannot let you come with us, y/n! We are being hunted. You must stay here. It is the only way I will know you are protected. It is the only way I will know you are safe.”
You shook your head, your heart breaking as he took his steps toward you. You let yourself stand still as he approached, your hands hitting at his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.
You looked up at him, unblinking, your tone revealing your pained frustration, “Why am I the only one who should be protected? Did you ever think that perhaps I would want to protect you? I want to protect you too Neteyam. You are stupid for thinking I could ever be without you. Stupid.”
You felt out of breath after all that lay in your mind spilt out into the thick air between you. There it was. That courage you always had when you were with him, but as he stood, speechless, only looking at you, you became shy. Just like you always did.
His firm expression softened as he processed your words, his cheeks reddening, his heart racing in response to being so close to you, your foreheads almost touching, and butterflies finding a home in his stomach, whirling around as he looked at you. Butterflies had also found you, flying around as his eyes were on you, and you could not look away for that moment. Your heart matched his, rapidly pacing in your chest, the only thing separating the two of you were your hands still at his chest. You could pretend the butterflies weren’t there and you could pretend that your heart raced because you were angry. Yet, you could not hide the newfound blush that was forming on your cheeks, and once you felt the heat settling on your face, you pushed away from him, your eyes downcast.
“I am going. You cannot convince me otherwise.” You said before quickly leaving the tent, walking off to find Jake and Neytiri.
“Are you sure you want to? You can never come back here.” Jake’s expression was serious, his voice stern.
“What have you always said? Sullys stick together. The sky people killed my family. You are all I have left.” The memory was painful, but it was the truth, and Jake knew it.
Looking at Neytiri, she gave a doleful look, giving him a small nod, then turning to you, “You will come with us.”
When you and the Sullys touched down onto the Awa’atlu Village, the metkayina people surrounded you, tilting their heads at your odd appearance. They had clearly already made up their minds about you all. You were different. Foreign.
Two boys about your age approached you, Lo’ak, and Neteyam, the taller one taking hold of Lo’ak’s tail for a moment and laughing, “Is this supposed to be a tail?”
You eyed them darkly, as they looked at you, Neteyam inching closer to you as they walked by.
“Aonung, Rotxo stop it!” A gentle voice scolded. Looking over, it was a girl, their sister, you assumed.
When the chief, Tonowari, and his mate, Ronal came, the tension in the air was thick as Jake maintained his calm, pleading with the couple to give sanctuary to his family. Ronal’s hesitation worried you for a moment, but hearing Jake’s plea, they agreed to grant you refuge in their home and teach you the their ways.
“My children will teach your children how to live like us.” Tonowari proclaimed, much to Aonung’s dismay.
But, Tsireya, the chief’s daughter, smiled, motioning for all of you to follow, “Come, I will show you where you will live.”
Everyone followed, Jake taking the lead. You observed around you, in awe at how different everything was. People were casting nets out into the sea to fish, children were playing in the water beneath the walkways, and the weapons you could see were spears, not the bow and arrows you were used to, and all around, there were animals swimming peacefully.
After settling down in your hut, Tsireya guided you all toward the edge of one of the docks, starting your first lesson in the water. Her and her brothers dove into the water, Lo’ak and Neteyam following after them, then you, Kiri, and Tuk last.
While the others seemed to struggle more, you and Kiri were able to hold your own in the water almost instantly. The others swam after Tsireya and her siblings, but you stayed with Kiri, mesmerized by the creatures in the ocean. While Kiri did her usual thing, admiring the animals and plants, you simply loved how it felt to be submerged in the water, staring up at the surface, the sun creating glimmers in your surroundings.
It didn’t take long for everyone to realize the two of you had strayed off, but Tsireya was able to find the two of you quickly, and when you noticed her and the others coming, you nudged Kiri, swimming up to the surface with her.
Breaking the water, Neteyam swam to you, taking hold of your arms, his face etched with worry. “Do not scare me like that. You could have been hurt.”
“I am fine. I am not a baby.” You pushed him away lightly, your eyes bilious for a moment before softening as he continued to survey your face, making sure your weren’t hurt anywhere, “I’m sorry for worrying you.”
You and him still had not discussed what happened at the tent, so you both pretended like everything was fine, but the tension between the both of you was painfully obvious to everyone else. Lo’ak and Kiri glanced at one another, giving each other a knowing look.
Tsireya continued to teach you all, from breathwork to their sign language. Once the sun began to set, you went your separate ways. Heading back to the tent, Jake and Neytiri were on the floor, urging you all to sit and eat.
The day felt long, but you were determined to adapt, ready for whatever the next day had in store for you.
Everything was slowly becoming second nature to you as days passed. You fell into a comfortable rhythm with the others in the village, finding your way in the water, and connecting with the animals around you. Even breathing the metkayina way had become easier, but Neteyam still struggled slightly, and it was you who would help him practice.
You and Neteyam were in what you guys decided would be your spot on the island. You found it while the two of you were exploring the reef, you diving just a little too far down and Neteyam, worried beyond belief, catching up to you. There was a cave, hidden behind the giant anemones and coral, and somehow, entering it, you found that the cave itself was not submerged in water, preserving the air for you to breathe in. You and him were sitting across from each other, the pool of water that would lead you back out into the reef beside you, rippling slightly at the echoing in your voices.
“No, no you’re doing it wrong. You keep breathing from your chest. You have to slow your heart rate down and breathe from below.” You instructed, demonstrating it yourself.
“I know! I know. I’m trying. Why are you so bossy?” Neteyam replied, knowing the comment would irritate you.
“Maybe I would not be so bossy if you could do it right!” You let out in annoyance. Neteyam only laughed, amused at how easily he could get under your skin.
“You laugh now, but when you are drowning I won’t save you.” You punched him in the chest lightly, trying to keep a straight face. He had one of those laughs that made you want to laugh too.
Rolling his eyes, he scoffed, “Really? You would let your protector drown? I don’t think so.”
Annoyed, you pushed him again, “Or maybe I should just kill you now.”
He raised his eyebrows cockily, and again, you brought your hands up to hit him, but he dodged, grabbing your arms instead. Using all your body weight, you drove him back, sending him downward on the ground with you on top of him. The action caught him off guard and he let go of your arms and taking the chance, you pinned him down.
“It is just too easy.” You let out, a satisfied grin on your face. “Fine, fine you win.” Neteyam muttered. He was about to sit up, but you moved ever so slightly on top of him, making his breath hitch. He looked away from you, feeling his whole body heat up.
You mistook his actions, laughing maniacally, “Don’t tell me you are out of breath from just that?” You teased, putting your head on his chest, the sound of his heart beat rapidly beating against your ear.
“And your heart is beating so fast too.” You continued, bringing your head back up to look at him, but as you did, you realized your closeness, bringing a scarlet hue to your cheeks. You hadn’t been this close since the day at the tent.
Your gaze only made things worse for Neteyam, his tail raising underneath him at the movement, making him sit up quickly, taming it down before it brushed against you.
His face was red now, and with a frustrated sigh, he finally looked at you, “Of course my heart is beating fast. I’m with you.”
When the words spilled out of his mouth, he instantly regretted it. This was not how he wanted to tell you how he felt. His words came out too messily and he was ashamed.
You blinked at him, that shyness revealing itself again, his words stirring butterflies in your stomach.
“What do you mean?” You whispered softly, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at you.
You spoke again, leaning forward and placing your hand on his chest, “Neteyam, tell me.”
Clearing his throat, he spoke, trying to sound confident, “We should get going. I should go check on the others, make sure they are not causing trouble.”
You knew that was a lie.
You got up and he followed suit, still avoiding your eyes, “Neteyam—“But, he didn’t speak another word, only managing a weak smile at you, pretending he wasn’t bothered.
When you got back to the village, Neteyam said goodbye to you, hastily walking away. You followed him though, practically running through village. You were so focused on catching him you didn’t notice Kiri calling your name.
Grabbing your arm, she finally caught your attention, sensing the panic in your body language. “Y/n what’s wrong?” She asked, concern painted in her eyes.
“It’s Neteyam. He’s acting weird and I don’t know why. He just… ran away from me.” You explained, putting your hand on your head as you tried to piece together what happened.
Kiri rubbed your back, “I’m sure everything’s fine. You know Neteyam. Sooner or later he’ll tell you what’s on his mind. Especially if it’s you. I wouldn’t worry too much.”
You nodded at her words, taking a deep breath. “Why don’t we go into the water before dinner. It will be a good distraction.You smiled, nodding as she took your hand and led you to shore.
You planned on diving into the water but Kiri noticed something in the sand and as if she was entranced, she laid down, “Come, (y/n) look!”
Submerging her head in the water, she fixed her eyes on one spot and taking a breath, you did too, lying on your stomach across from her.You weren’t exactly sure what you were looking at, but you stayed with Kiri, observing what was in front of you intently. The two of you stayed like that for a while until the sound of voices made you lift your head out of the water.
It was Aonung and three other boys. You rolled your eyes, “What do you want?”
Kiri finally lifted her head, confused as to what was going on.
Aonung kept a vile smirk on his face, his eyes going back and forth between the two of you. “Nothing, we just wanted to see what the two freaks were doing.”
You grabbed Kiri’s hand and began walking to the shore, turning your head toward the boys, “Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you.” You spat back, Kiri laughing at your response.
The comment clearly angered them all as they stomped behind you, Aonung gabbing Kiri’s arm as a retaliation.
“Hey, get your hands off her!” You yelled, but he only laughed, his eyebrows raised slyly.
From the way you were balling up your fists, Kiri could tell you were beyond pissed now, taking hold of your arm to pull you away, “Come on y/n let’s go.”
You could have listened, but instead you threw a punch that caught Aonung off guard. Aonung and the rest of his boys stepped forward, but Lo’ak and Neteyam appeared to finish the fight, Lo’ak throwing another punch and Neteyam jumping in to help. Eventually, one of the men of the village noticed, breaking up the fight and sending you back to Jake.
As the three of you approached the hut, Jake turned to you, his face disappointed.
Neteyam watched his father, stepping forward, “This is my fault sir.”
“No it’s not. You gotta stop taking the blame for this knucklehead,” pointing at Lo’ak who looked away. “Go apologize. I don’t care how you do it.”
“But dad!—“ Lo’ak protested, but you stepped forward.
“Do not blame your sons. This is my fault, Jake. Aonung called Kiri a freak so I punched him first. It is me who should apologize.” You admitted, looking down at your feet.
“I expect this from these two, but not you y/n. You should know better. You both go apologize.” Jake scolded, his tone clearly frustrated.
You and Lo’ak nodded your heads before walking out of the hut.Lo’ak groaned, “Ugh. I can’t believe we have to say sorry to him.”
You slung your arm over his shoulder, “Let’s just get it over with, okay?” You gave him a reassuring look, which seemed to make him relax.
Appearing next to you, Neteyam slung his arm around your other shoulder, “Hey, you okay?”
You leaned the boys’ heads toward yours, hugging them both before grabbing their ears and pinching.
“Ow! Ow! Y/n that hurts!” Neteyam whined, his brother echoing the same cry.
“You guys are such a pain in my ass.” You lamented, before finally letting go.
“You’re the one who punched him first!” Lo’ak complained.
“Yes, but who came in and kept punching?” You retorted, the two of them avoiding your gaze.
You chuckled, “Thank you for doing that. It was stupid, but… you guys looked cool.”
Neteyam scoffed cockily, “Of course we did.” You glanced over at Neteyam, his mouth formed in a satisfied grin.
“Well, come on,” You motioned over to Lo’ak, “let’s go apologize.” You huffed.
“Y/n, wait” Neteyam called, grabbing your hand, you turned, your eyebrows raised expectantly.
Clearing his throat, he spoke, “When you come back, I have to tell you something.”
You nodded, “Wait for me at our spot, okay?”
Letting go of your hand reluctantly, he agreed, waving to you as you both walked away.
“I’m sorry I hit you. So many times.” Lo’ak apologized, and you reluctantly said sorry too, trying not to look indifferent. The boys looked at one another before accepting his apology.
You motioned for Lo’ak to follow you, but Aonung did something you did not expect.
“So what do you say? We are going hunting. Outside the reef. It is where the men hunt. Are you coming?” Aonung coaxed, glancing over at the other boys mischievously.
“No way. I’m not allowed.” Lo’ak said, starting to guide his ilu toward you.
Calling out, Aonung struck a nerve in Lo’ak, “I must be talking to the wrong brother then.”
Without any hestiation, Lo’ak turned around, “Let’s do it.”
You grabbed him, sensing something wrong, you gave Lo’ak a warning look, “Lo’ak, let’s go.”
He pushed you away, swimming after Aonung and the boys. Groaning, you looked back at the village before diving to follow them.
When you had reached Three Brothers Rocks, you dove after the boys, watching as Aonung began to swim up to the surface.
“What are you doing?” You hissed, your expression dark. Saying nothing, they only laughed, taking off on their ilus, leaving you and Lo’ak to the boundless ocean.
Not long after, Lo’ak surfaced, confused to find only you in the water, “Where are they?”
“Gone.” You flared, trying to calm yourself down as anger set its threshold in you.
Hopping on your ilus, you began to swim back, but a force from underneath the water sent you and Lo’ak flying, off of your ilu and back into the depths. As the water settled around you, you could finally see what had sent you back, a creature, intent on killing you both. You and Lo’ak glanced at one another quickly before swimming toward the coral, taking refuge in its labyrinth. The creature charged, biting the coral to get to you, but you continued to move inward. When it reached a point that it could not break, the creature retreated briefly, giving you a moment to calm yourself to control your breath.
You looked at Lo’ak, but you could tell he was panicking and you grabbed hold of him gently to reassure him. It seemed to work, but you knew he had reached his threshold of breath. You urged him upward quickly, hoping that the creature would not come back. Freeing yourself from the coral, you reached the open water, continuing to push him up. But, the creature had waited for you, turning its body to face the two of you. Grabbing your knife, you held it up, bringing Lo’ak behind you, but your chance to use it never came as another animal came, charging and killing the creature.
A tulkun.
Suddenly, you felt Lo’ak’s body go limp behind you, and you caught him, holding him as you approached the surface. The tulkun swam underneath you, taking you to the surface on its fin.
Once you broke the water, you breathed in deeply, turning Lo’ak over and pushing on his stomach, expelling the water trapped in his lungs.He coughed violently, before sitting up. Taking in his surroundings, unsure if he was alive or not.
“We survived.” You breathed, “Thanks to this tulkun.”
Its clicks sounded through the air in response and you smiled, looking into its eye, you signed, “Thank you for saving us.”
Lo’ak signed too, stroking above its eye.“Hey, look.”
You slid off its fin, observing the harpoon stuck in its flesh. Lo’ak gave an apologetic expression, his eyes sad from the sight. The two of you took it out, and the tulkun clicked radiantly as a thank you.
You were intrigued by the tulkun, watching as Lo’ak signed to the creature. You smiled as you watched him make a connection with it, but as you waded longer in the water, a stinging pain began to burn on your back.
“Agh—“ You hissed, pushing your hair away to reveal a large cut across your back. Seeing the cut, Lo’ak’s eyes widened, “We need to get you back to the village,” Turning, Lo’ak faced the tulkun, “Please take us to the village.”
As you swam, the salt water burned into your wounds, but you were able to bear it, gritting your teeth when the pain would intensify. The tulkun stopped at the edge of the village, and you both said goodbye to your new friend.
It was Neteyam who figured out you were both missing. When you didn’t show up at your guys’ spot, he knew there was something wrong. One of the warriors surveying the water caught sight of the two of you, taking you on the back of their boat to the edge of the docks where everyone was waiting.
When you saw Aonung, your expression was vicious, hissing at him as Lo’ak was readying himself to fight again, but Jake pushed the both of you back and Neytiri approached the two of you angrily. Your disdain was fixed on your face until you saw Neteyam, who could only apologize for not being there, his eyebrows furrowed in deep shame.
Jake and Neytiri scolded their son, apologizing for Lo’ak in front of Tonowari, but he refused. Tonowari knew Aonung knew better than to take Lo’ak outside the reef, and urged that it was his son to blame.
You felt relieved hearing this, but that feeling vanished once Lo’ak spoke.
“No sir. This is my fault. Aonung tried to talk me out of it, but I didn’t listen.” Lo’ak lied.
“Lo’ak!” You piped in disbelief.
Jake sighed, taking Lo’ak by the arm and Neteyam turned his attention to you, helping you up onto the dock. You and him walked forward, but a sudden shot of agonizing pain surged through you, your vision fading to black as your mind began to shut off, “Neteyam.” Your voice breathy and weak as he looked over at you, catching your body as you fell, your mind finally sending you into darkness.
When you finally awoke, you were lying down in a hut you had never been in before, the sun shining on your face as you opened your eyes. The pain in your back was gone and you took a deep breath in.
“You’re awake! She’s awake! She’s awake!” You heard, looking over to find Tuk beside you.
Then suddenly, the Sully children gathered around you, relief washing over their faces as you sat up.
Neteyam who had been standing in front of the hut rushed to you, kneeling and taking your hand in his, “I am so happy you are alright,” He beamed, smiling at you.
You beamed back, quickly repositioning yourself to hug him, sending him backward onto the ground.
“Okay. Barf. I’m leaving.” Lo’ak said, rolling his eyes at the two of you before walking out of the hut, Kiri and Tuk following after him.
You paid no mind to Lo’ak, your attention focused on Neteyam. You were not sure how long you had been unconscious, but it must have been agonizing for him, and the thought of him being in such pain caused you heartache. You leaned into his ear, your voice quiet as you spoke, “I am sorry for worrying you again.”
Your breath on his ear sent an instant flush to his body, concentrating at his cheeks, painting them a shade of pink. He gulped, trying to calm himself down. With you still on top of him, he sat himself up, never taking his eyes off you.
Sheepishly, he shook his head, “No, do not apologize. I am just…” he paused, taking a second to study your face admiringly, “I am just happy that you are alright.”
You laughed, standing up and holding your hand for him to take, “You already said that.”
He took your hand lifting himself up, sighing as he now stood, “Even at a time like this, you love to tease me.”
“Of course. I was knocked out for a while. I must make up for the lost time.” You joked, earning a laugh from him.
You guys stayed in a comfortable silence before you remembered the conversation you had before you left.
“Neteyam, before…you said you wanted to tell me something.”
“Right…” He began, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “Y/n, I wanted to tell you…”
You stepped forward, looking at him expectantly, “Yes?” He took your hand, gulping as he tried to piece the words together in his mind, “I wanted to tell you I—“
“Y/n.”
At the sound of your name, you pulled away from Neteyam, looking over at where the voice had come from.
Seeing who the voice belonged to you rolled your eyes. “What do you want Aonung?”
“I-I— can I talk to you for a second?” Neteyam looked your way, tilting his head as he wondered what you were going to do.
You let a breath in, “Fine, fine. Let’s talk.”
You walked toward the entrance of the hut, but Neteyam put a hand on your shoulder, “If you do not want to talk to him, you do not have to.”
“Who said I was going to talk to him? Maybe I’ll just hit him.” You grunted, giving him a reassuring look.
Neteyam knew what you meant, giving Aonung a warning look before exiting the hut.
When Aonung stepped inside, you could feel your anger returning to you as you looked at him, but you did you best to hold it in, “What do you want to say?”
“I am sorry. For treating you the way I did and for what happened to you.” His head was downcast, and seeing that annoyed you.
“If you want to apologize to someone properly, look them in the eye.” You hissed, placing your hand on his chin, you forced his gaze.
You expected him to be smirking like he usually did, but he wasn’t. His expression was, for the first time, apologetic.
“I’m sorry. I mean it. I-I really am.” It was all he could find himself to say, keeping his eyes locked on yours.
You studied him for a moment, still in disbelief. “It is hard for me to accept your apology, but for the sake of peace, I will.”
Outside, Neteyam watched you and him from a distance, wondering what conversation the two of you could be having for you to hold his chin the way that you were. He could feel a sense of unease rise within him as he watched.
“What are you doing?”
Jumping, Neteyam turned around to find it was only his younger brother, his face curious.
Looking back at the hut, Neteyam grunted coolly, “Nothing.”
Following his gaze, Lo’ak smirked seeing you and Aonung in the hut, “Are you jealous big bro?”
“I am not. Me? Jealous? Of him? No way.” He replied defensively.
“Really?” Lo’ak glanced again behind his brother, turning him around, “So that doesn’t bother you at all?”
Aonung stepped closer to you, putting his hand out, “Friends?” Aonung said.
You grabbed hold of his arm, “Friends.”
Neteyam gulped, but did not want to give Lo’ak the satisfaction of being right, “They are probably just making up. That does not means anything.”
Lo’ak, amused, continued to joke, “You better hurry up bro. He’s already making moves on her.”
“Shut up.” Hitting his brother on the shoulder, scowling.
“What’s happening?”
It was Kiri with Tuk by her side. Lo’ak couldn’t resist making fun of his brother again.“
Neteyam’s jealous because Aonung is talking to y/n.”
“I am not!” Neteyam protested.
“Come on, just admit it.” Lo’ak nudged, sparking another flow of arguments between the boys.
“This is so stupid.” Kiri said, rolling her eyes.
Tuk, who only caught ins and outs of the conversation, only really cared when she heard your name and had also caught sight of you at the same time.
“Oh look it’s y/n! She’s about to get in the water. Come on, Kiri, let’s go to her!” Tuk begged, latching onto her sister’s arms, running to where you and Aonung were.
The boys had finally stopped arguing, Neteyam running with his sisters in an attempt to catch you, but you and Aonung were already in the water with your ilus, swimming fast and far from them. Aonung had challenged you to a race and you couldn’t help but accept.
Neteyam was about to jump in the water too, but Kiri stopped him, “My god, you really are jealous. You’re really going to follow her?”
Neteyam scoffed, “That doesn’t mean I’m jealous.”
But even he knew that what he was saying was a lie, his siblings groaning at his response.
They elected to wait for you on the shore, Tuk running quickly, urging her siblings to hurry up, Neteyam trudging behind everyone.
Aonung was fast, catching up to you as you distanced yourselves from the village, but you were determined to win and as Aonung approached, tailing your ilu, you had built up enough momentum to shoot forward toward victory.
Disconnecting from your ilu, you got out of the water, a satisfied grin plastered on your face. The minute the Sullys saw you emerge from the water, they made their way over, Tuk running to you excitedly.
“Guess who just beat Aonung in an ilu race?” You said to her playfully, picking her up and spinning her. She giggled, sticking her tongue out.
Aonung stepped forward, scowling, “That was just beginner’s luck.”
“Maybe, but you still lost. You should not have triggered my competitiveness.” You sneered, putting Tuk down.
Lo’ak and Kiri gathered around you, proudly whooping as you approached, but Neteyam stood behind you all, his arms crossed, eyeing Aonung as he stood beside you, too close for his liking.
“I want a rematch.” He challenged.
But you shook your head at him, “I must refuse. I would not want to embarrass you a second time.”
At closer glance, you suddenly looked different to Aonung. The sun was reflecting off of you, your wet skin glistening, your smile radiating as you continued to tease him in front of everyone. You looked pretty to him.
He wanted to keep being around you, staring as the newfound thought stained his cheeks with a faint blush, a sudden confidence taking over him, “If you won’t race with me again, then go for a dive with me instead.” Holding out his hand to you, he nudged for you to take it.
Seeing this, Neteyam uncrossed his arms, his eyes shot at you as he waited for your response, hoping you would refuse.
You looked at his hand, then at him, tilting your head.
“Right now?” You asked, and he nodded eagerly.
Not waiting for your answer, he took your hand anyway, leading you toward the ocean, “Come on.”
“Wait, Aonung—“ You began, but you were interrupted as Neteyam came up beside you, pulling you closer to him, breaking you away from Aonung’s grasp.
Calling his ilu, he sat you in front of him, telling you to hold your breath before taking off, leaving everyone on the shore stunned.
Aonung watched as the two of you disappeared and once everyone processed everything, Lo’ak patted Aonung’s shoulder. “Sorry man, you never stood a chance.”
You were facing Neteyam as he rode, watching him as he concentrated on where he was going, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth slightly pursed. You looked at your surroundings, recognizing familiar structures of coral, and you smiled. You knew where he was taking you.
When you arrived at the entrance of your spot, Neteyam disconnected from his ilu, taking your hand and leading you into your cave. Breaking water, you both took a breath, his hand still in yours, you tightened your grip around it, causing him to look at you. You swam toward the edge of the pool, pulling him with you, the two of you pulling yourselves out of the water.
You took his hands into yours, feeling the heat in you rising and the butterflies in your stomach coming back to you, fluttering quietly as you waited for him to say something.
But Neteyam stood, speechless, looking at you, admiring you. He owed you so much, but did not know what to say, too abashed by the feelings that arose every time the two of you were this close.
“Why did you do that?” You asked softly, caressing his hand. But you felt you knew the answer. You just hoped that what you felt was true.
“I didn’t like it.” He let out nervously, your confused expression begging for him to say more.
“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you, how we was holding your hand. I-I hated it.” His head was downcast, ashamed at such childish feelings.
You took one of his hands up, placing it on your chest where your heart was. The movement made him look at you, his mouth open in surprise and the familiar heat in his face intensifying.
“Do you feel how my heart beats?” It was beating fast and was only growing in pace as Neteyam kept his soft gaze on you.
He nodded, looking at you with a dreamy smile, which you happily returned.
You placed your hand on his chest, feeling as his heart beat matched yours, “My heart beats like this because of you.”
You let go of him, turning away. It was only when you did this that Neteyam realized just how your warmth affected him, how cold it would suddenly feel when you weren’t beside him.
”But, you must choose me, Neteyam. There are many women, all beautiful women for you to choose.”
Neteyam shook his head, approaching your turned back, his voice confident, “I do not want another woman. I only want you, y/n.”
Instantly, you faced him, smiling brightly, taking his hands into yours again, returning the warmth around him, around the both of you. It wasn’t a feeling that Neteyam wanted to let go of.
He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours, letting go of your hands and instead taking hold of your waist, his grip tightening as he pulled you closer. As you wrapped your arm around his neck, you felt his tail brush against your leg, the movement slow, loving. You let out a slight moan, making Neteyam only deepen the kiss. The heat between the two of you burned with every movement, Neteyam lowering your bodies to the ground, taking hold of one of your legs as you wrapped it around him.
You weren’t sure how long the two of you laid together, but once you pulled away, the two you let silence fill the cave, your foreheads touching as you embraced. Neteyam grabbed his queue from behind him, and you leaned back, watching as he brought it in front of you.
“I see you.”
You brought your queue in front of you, looking at him before making the bond.
“I see you.”
When you felt the bond, your entire being connected with his, every sensation between the two of you charging as the amorous look in his eyes sent your heart into a frenzy. Neteyam, still with his forehead to yours, kissed your cheek before letting his lips explore every part of you. You closed your eyes with every touch, the core of you reaching a new state of bliss. Returning, Neteyam brought his lips to yours again and you savored the feeling, another wave of heat ready to burst in you. You reached down, and Neteyam pulled away, his look unsure, but you nodded reassuringly, bringing his head back down to connect your lips once more. There was nothing between you now, the little space that you once had now gone as Neteyam pushed into you, his movements passionate and loving. Your hand was at his back, the other clutching his hair as he kept going. The closeness between you and the love you could feel conjured up tears in your eyes, a moan escaping your mouth at every motion, your toes curling as the momentum continued, building and building until finally you both reached your bliss.
Pulling away breathlessly, Neteyam looked at you again, and not being able to contain how happy he was, smiled warmly at you before peppering your cheeks with kisses.
You giggled, lifting yourself up, him holding onto you. still, your tails curling around each other.
“So, this was how you felt… all this time?” You asked innocently, only wanting him to hear him say it one more time.
Taking your cheek in his hand, a mischievous smile took over his lips, “If it wasn’t clear…I can show you again.” His eyes suggestive as he raised his eyebrows.
You rolled your eyes at him, lifting your arm to punch him lightly, but he grabbed it, pulling you in for another kiss. You relaxed under his grasp, but gently pulled away.
“You can’t just kiss me now every time you say something stupid.” You tried to sound firm, but your heart was turning to mush by the second.
He leaned in, kissing your cheek gently before resting his head on the crook of your neck.
“I am yours now, y/n. All my kisses belong to you now, so I have to deliver.”
“Hmm… I don’t know, I think I’m still gonna go for a dive with Aonung after this.” You teased, he lifted his head, looking at you in disbelief.
“Don’t even joke about that.” His voice serious, as you put a hand to your mouth, trying not to laugh.
“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I’m yours, okay? I’m yours.”
[part 2!]
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neosvcr · 4 months
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you were anton's best friend. one of the most important people in the world to him. so how could anton not want to help you after your scumbag of an ex broke your heart. he could treat you so much better, he knew he could. and tonight he wanted so badly to prove that to you. to give you everything you've been missing.
"did that feel good, angel?" anton coos against you, pressing kisses on your clit. he already had you coming on his tongue twice. "come on, baby. you gonna let me make you feel good?" he whispers, absolutely smitten with how well you reacted to him. "what do you want now, honey? want me to dick you down the way you deserve?" the way you wasted no time in nodding your head eagerly, whiny begs leaving your lips had anton chuckling.
"so desperate for me already.." he whispered, his fingers gently stroking the skin of your thighs. he rests his head against your inner thigh and looked up at you, the look and sparkle in his eyes sparkling something novel inside of you. it would be a lie if you said that you'd never imagined him in this way – you had. more times than your like to admit. but this was way better than anything your imagination could come up with, and he could say the same. no other man had ever looked at you in that way before. "you're so pretty, love." he muttered. "so, so pretty. he didn't deserve you." you were the most precious thing in the world to him, and he'd do anything in his power to protect you. he adored you – cared about you perhaps more than a friend should – and you knew that. you knew that all too well. now that he's finally got you underneath him, you're damn right he's going to remind you just how special you are.
praises and reminders of his love and appreciation of you being whispered against your skin as he trailed sweet kisses up your stomach until he reached your lips. "i love you," he breathed against your lips, brushing your hair out of your face. he didn't even give you time to respond before pressing his soft lips against your own as you breathed each other in. it's not like you'd never told each other you loved each other before, you had. it's just that this time it was different.
it's not long until he's stuffing you full of his cock. and when he finally bottoms out, being balls deep inside his pretty girl, he could've sworn he almost came on the spot at the little noises that escaped your lips and the expression on your face. "too big angel?" anton cooed, his tone potentially coming across as condescending depending on how you interpreted it. you nodded, mewling softly as you clawed at his chest. that made him chuckle. "you're gonna have to take it for me if you want me to make you feel good," he said, his tone soft. once you gave him the okay to move, he began thrusting. his strokes were deep and slow, groaning softly against your lips as his fingers laced through your hair. you wrapped around him perfectly, so wet and warm and responsive, all for him. "such a good girl for me.. taking me so well," he whispered shakily.
"you gonna cum?" he asked as he held your hand tightly. "come on, angel. cum for m– fuck, you're so tight- cum for me. cream this cock.. cream my cock, princess." and when you finally do cum together, he kisses your forehead. "you did such a good job, baby. i'm so proud of you." the adoration in both of your eyes was almost overwhelming. you truly were the most beautiful girl in the world to him, but you were even prettier when you came around his cock.
soon enough, you were all cleaned up, in his arms, whispering the sweetest things to each other, the heartbreak you felt a few hours prior at the hands of your ex now being replaced with a newfound love and affection for your best friend.
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enviedear · 5 months
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Okay but Billy with an innocent reader>>>>>>>> LIKE HES SO PROTECTIVE OML
billy + innocent!reader
stop i love this. this should be an au hell i may just write more for it
tw— for use of a gun, toothrotting fluff
request
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"go ahead, honey. pull the trigger." billy's voice is sweet against your ear.
your face morphs into a coy apprehension, "and you're sure this won't send me flying on my rear?"
he chuckles, straightening your arms a bit, "m'right here, i won't let that happen."
your eyes focus in on the three rusty cans in the distance, set atop a dry rotting log. you know there's no way you're going to hit them all. you'd be lucky to hit one.
but billy is adamant in both that you need to learn how to shoot, and that you’ll be a ‘natural’. his driving objective, however, being that since he can't be with you from sun up to sun down, he'll have to settle with teaching you how to fend for yourself.
it's not unlike him to behave this way. in the months you've known the gunslinger, you've come to find that his urge to protect you is enormous.
his protection isn't reserved just against the infamous wild men of the west, but rather, anything and anyone. if it could possibly do you harm, physically or mentally, he's there to guard and defend.
like a knight out of the princess tales your mother used to tell you.
you let out a harsh breath before your finger begins to press into the trigger. too soft at first, the metal remains in its' spot, you muster up all your courage and pull the trigger. your eyes are screwed shut as the bullet whistles away, and you quickly turn into billy.
his arms ensnare you, wrapping you tight, "what're you hidin' for? you hit it dead center, sweetheart!"
you lift your head, staring unabashedly into his blue eyes, "did i really?"
he hums, using his dominant hand to steer your gaze away from him and toward the target. sure enough, the can on the left side has a small hole right in its middle.
billy chuckles, his chest rumbling against your back, "told you, my girl's a natural."
you can't help but grin, the tension releasing from your shoulders, "or i've got a good teacher." you tease.
he gives you a squeeze before letting go, gesturing toward the cans, "c'mon, let's see if you can do it again."
emboldened by your first success, you square your shoulders and take aim. this time, you focus a bit more, remembering the sensation of the recoil and trying to replicate it. the shot rings out, and you open your eyes to find another can hit.
billy lightly claps you on the back, "see? just like that, sweetheart."
as you reload, you can't help but appreciate the way the afternoon sun plays on his weathered hat, casting thin rays upon his lips, "m’not as hopeless as i thought."
he grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "do i e’ver lie to you?”
you ignore his sly remark, focusing back in on your targets. with newfound confidence, you continue to practice, the rhythmic sound of gunshots filling the air. as the sun begins its descent, casting a warm glow over the landscape.
the sounds of gunfire continue, each shot feeling more controlled and confident than the last. with every successful hit, billy's pride in your progress shines through his loving stare. he stands by your side, offering guidance and encouragement, a quiet guardian in the backdrop of your learning.
as the sun dips even lower, casting a dim hue over the landscape, you catch a glimpse of billy watching you with a softness in his eyes. he often got this way, completely lost in you. especially when you're doing things his way— not in the way you'd normally feel inclined. you're rather tame and harmless in comparison to billy, the entire west, really.
growing up away from the fast-growing townships and travelers, when you met billy he completely flipped your world upside down. you gave him all your firsts, shooting his pistol only adds to the expansive list of firsts you've given him.
you go to take aim again, eyes closing as you shoot, still too frightened to keep them open— your bullet flies past your targets, missing entirely. you've grown used to the sound of a hit and when you open your eyes to find the miss, you groan.
billy's safeguarding nature becomes even more apparent as you meet his winsome eyes, his gaze lingers on you, subtle worry etched on his features.
he knows you're inexperienced, a stark contrast to the harsh realities of the world he's accustomed to. he knows it isn't, but if this were a shootout, that big of a miss would have cost you your life.
the mere thought of you in that situation is something he's not willing to entertain.
"you're doing mighty fine, sweetheart," he reassures, a tenderness in his voice that speaks volumes, "but remember, there's more to this than cans and targets. gotta keep those pretty eyes of yours open, alright?"
you nod, appreciating his concern and the earnest care he extends. it dawns on you that learning to shoot isn't just a practical skill— it's a testament to the depth of billy's affection. he's arming you with more than just a handgun— he's giving you a piece of his own resilience and determination.
as the sun sets, casting long shadows across the landscape, you take a moment to stand side by side with billy, appreciating the warmth of his presence. the sky paints hues of orange and pink, a picturesque backdrop to the bond that's been forged between you.
"thanks, billy," you say, sincerity lacing your words. "for teaching me, for being patient."
he smiles, a softness in his expression that contrasts with the rugged exterior, "my pleasure, sweetheart. always want you to be able to take care of yourself."
with the last rays of sunlight fading, you holster the gun, feeling a newfound sense of empowerment. billy wraps an arm around your shoulders, guiding you back towards the homestead. as you walk together, the echoes of gunshots in the ears serve as a reminder that you're not just learning to shoot— you're learning to navigate billy's world, and with his protection, you're sure you'll do just fine.
—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !
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mayaree-darling · 6 months
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mastermind
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from aree: The Harbinger Trailer has consumed me yall are getting a brainrot. (I made this when the trailer first came out and have never posted it so here it is).
tw for yandere content
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Yandere!Harbingers with a "darling" who is the right hand of the Tsaritsa herself. Not a Harbinger, but nonetheless important because they're the main strategist of the Fatui. I can just imagine the pain for the Harbingers because although darling is within arms reach, they're not allowed to make a move lest they anger their ruler.
Childe who first sees you akin to a younger sibling amongst the Fatui - you're no underling, on par with a Harbinger in importance if not more, protected almost as much as the Archon Herself - it would be hard not to be protective of you. And yet as you fix his wounds after another fight he started, telling him off in place of Her Majesty, giving him tips on how he could've fought better in whispers in between, his growing need for your attention consumes him. When he kisses your cheek (as thanks, he says) in front of the other Harbingers he's already looking forward to you treating the injuries they're sure to beat into him.
Scaramouche who grins when the Harbingers bristle as you walk side by side in the halls of Zapolyarny Palace - he says you should consider it an honor to walk with him, and it inflates his ego when you reply with a small nod and a smaller smile. Behind the others' backs, he follows you like a lost child, always walking behind you, gripping on to the back of your clothes like you might slip away if he's not careful. He's obsessed with the way you look at him and ask him questions about his creation. He fails to see that the adoration you hold for him is as hollow as he is.
Signora wonders if you know when she is at her lowest, that would certainly explain things, wouldn't it? She thinks she has lost her mind when she sees glimpses of her lost love when turning corners too quickly, haunting her when she lets her guard down but then you're in front of her, greeting her with a soft smile that feels all too familiar and she realizes she has gone mad in other ways (she welcomes that newfound madness like the lover that it is, finally coming home).
Pantalone who believes that one of life's greatest pleasures is to own what others cannot - to collect the rare, the exquisite and the hard to obtain - and to have you, a person of great mind and ranking, be dangled right infront of him on a piece of gold thread held by the Tsaritsa, who was he to resist the urge to make you his? (after all, he deserves only the best) The longer he does not have you, the more your worth rises in his eyes.
Dottore who initially wants to pick apart your brain (quite literally) but his interest shifts and doubles when he reaches an epiphany that what he truly lacked from the Akademiya was someone who shared his intellect, a genius to match his own. Maybe you don't share his affinity for biology, but he loves the way your conversations keeps him on his toes (if you weren't a being close to perfection for him before, then you certainly are now.)
Arlecchino who watches as you care for the children in the orphanage, checking in on them even long after they've joined the ranks of the Fatui and compares it to the frigid ways of the other Harbingers. For the first time since being a part of this cold nation, she is envious of the warmth you give (why must you have so much love to share?) She thinks that should the day come she turns her back on this frigid country, she would surely take your hearth with her.
Marionette who finds herself being drawn to the way you move around a room and hold yourself up in front of people, marveling at the intricacies of each part of your body and the way they make up the being that is you (you could trip and fall and she'd still sigh in awe). Her fascination turns you from muse to future subject. Surely such a specimen must be preserved, right? Not to mention, there would be no greater honor than to turn the Tsaritsa's best into a perfect unchanging doll.
Damselette who usually goes quiet when you're in the same room as her, always eager to hear you talk, almost hissing when a Harbinger tries to speak over you. She finds your voice is the one in her head who speaks reason to her when she gets a bit out of control (Does she listen? No, but your voice is always ever so lovely). Wouldn't it be so nice if you're the lone voice she hears always, the same way you're already always in her thoughts?
Capitano who is thankful his mask covers the fond look he gets when you turn to him - not with fear like the lower ranking Fatui or haughty like the Harbingers - but as an equal, leveling him with a gaze that leaves him fooling himself that it means something more. He's less thankful for his mask when someone calls your attention away from him and he can't control the glare he sends their way (maybe if they saw the way he looked at them, they'd finally be put in their place).
Pulcinella is quick to put you in a pedestal - you are someone to be respected and someone to be kept at a distance. And yet as he watches the Harbingers fall deeper and deeper into obsession, he takes it upon himself to protect the Tsaritsa's favorite and the Fatui's brain from whatever his co workers are plotting. As he spends more time with you (making sure the others do not occupy all of your time), the pedestal he keeps you on crumbles until all he sees is another child to keep under his wing. He fails to see he has only fallen into a different hole as the rest.
Strategist!Darling who may pretend to be oblivious to the Harbingers' feelings but is actually letting it all happen to make sure they all stay under the Tsaritsa's rule one way to another.
Does Pierro know what you're doing? Maybe. It's not like he is blind to how the Harbingers act around you, subtle as they try to be. If you spend enough time with him, you might be able to tell that he enjoys watching you play the part of a fool, dancing around the others and making them dance for you, too. He might even step in once he thinks the other Harbingers are stepping out of line, but it all depends on what he gets out of sticking into your business.
I also like the dynamic where although the Harbingers cannot make a move to claim what is "their's", darling is just as trapped. Although they always sometimes want to leave, they know as much as anyone that the Tsaritsa is the only thing standing between them and the others. The moment they try to leave the Tsaritsa's side or they lose her favor, it's all fair game for the Harbingers.
Everyone is stuck in a stalemate until someone makes a misstep.
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✨ Masterlist ✨ 
Taglist: 💛@anime-allover  💛@faeriessky  💛 @prksolon 💛 @dai-tsukki-desu 💛 @wonpielle
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.
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x-uno · 7 months
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Hey! If it’s okay, can I request olpa x reader where it’s sort of a part two for your last zoro post where zoro and reader gets closers and it’s obvious they both have feelings for each other but they themselves don’t know about the other and it’s until after zoro wakes up from his coma, reader is crying and rambling on about how much he’s scared them and accidentally confesses to him, and he’s just stunned but he then quickly grabs reader by the back of the neck and kisses them breathlessly?
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Sword and Heartstrings PT.2
Pairing : OPLA!zoro x fem!reader
notes : Certainly! I had fun writing this one! ~ I hope it's up to your expectations, anon! :DDD
<< 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃
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After the grueling battle with Mihawk, Zoro found himself in a coma, his injuries severe and his life hanging in the balance. The crew was distraught, but none more so than you who had been training with him, heart aching with worry.
Days turned into a painful wait, and every moment by Zoro's bedside felt like an eternity. Your tears fell freely as you whispered words of encouragement and love, unable to bear the thought of losing the man you had come to care for so deeply.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the room was bathed in soft candlelight, You poured your heart out to him. "You mean everything to me," you confessed, voice choking with emotion. "I can't lose you, Zoro. Please, wake up and hear me."
As if in response to your plea, Zoro's eyelids began to flutter, and he slowly regained consciousness. His eyes now focused on your tearful face, and he was overcome with a profound sense of relief and gratitude.
Before he could fully grasp the situation, before he could form words, he acted on instinct. With a fierce determination born from the depths of his heart, Zoro reached out, his hands grabbing the back of your neck, before pressing his lips with yours.
It was a kiss filled with all the unspoken feelings that had grown between them, a kiss that spoke of their shared experiences, their undeniable connection, and the depth of their love. In that moment, as their lips met, everything became clear—they were no longer clueless about the emotions that had silently bound them together.
You gazed into each other's eyes, the unspoken emotions finally finding a voice.
Zoro was the first to break the silence, his voice husky with raw emotion. "I... I didn't know," he admitted, his brows furrowing in a mix of confusion and realization.
Your tears of worry had turned to tears of joy. "I didn't either," You confessed. "But when I thought I might lose you, I couldn't hold back anymore."
Zoro's thumb brushed away a lingering tear your cheek. "You're an idiot," he muttered with a hint of a smile, his thumb tracing your lips.
You chuckled softly. "You too."
Laughter filled the room, a shared moment of relief and happiness. You couldn't help but lean in for another kiss, it was no longer a kiss born of confusion or desperation. It was a kiss of love, a kiss that sealed your newfound understanding and bound your hearts together.
In the warmth of each other's embrace, you knew that you had found something precious, something worth protecting. And as you both held onto each other, the cluelessness of your past had given way to a love that was now undeniably clear.
The moment was short-lived though, when a loud, indignant voice rang out that you were both jolted back to reality.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH Y/N, MOSSHEAD?!"
The voice came from none other than Sanji, who had arrived to fetch you for dinner, completely unaware of the recent developments. He stood at the doorway, his eyes wide with shock, and his cigarette dangled from his lips.
Zoro and you quickly pulled away from each other, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Zoro's brows furrowed as he glared at Sanji. "Mind your own business, Cook."
Sanji, however, was having none of it. He pointed an accusatory finger at Zoro. "I knew it! You've been hiding something from us, you bastard! And with Y/N of all people!"
You couldn't help but chuckle at the dramatic scene unfolding before them. "Sanji, it's not what you think," you tried to explain.
But Sanji was already in full-blown outrage mode. "Don't you dare corrupt our innocent crew member! I won't allow it!"
The commotion drew the attention of the rest of the crew, who came rushing into the room, equally bewildered by the scene. Nami raised an eyebrow. "What's going on here?"
Sanji dramatically pointed at Zoro and you. "Zoro's trying to seduce Y/N!"
Zoro facepalmed at Sanji's absurd accusation, while you couldn't stop laughing. It was clear that Sanji had jumped to conclusions, and the crew's confusion quickly turned into laughter.
Amid the chaos and laughter, Zoro and you exchanged a knowing glance. You might have been clueless about your feelings in the past, but one thing was certain now — you had found each other, and nothing could change that.
And as Sanji continued his over-the-top protest, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected comedic twist that had brought your feelings to light.
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taglist: reply to be added !
© 2023 x-uno ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, edit, alter, or redistribute my work. 
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emsvertigo · 29 days
Text
Be My Angel ⋆·˚ ༘ *
"holding on to you, holding on to me, holding on tight 'till my love is crossed."
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summary & genre — fluff. a slow morning wake up with paul, perhaps it'll bring confessions of love.
warnings — mentions of pregnancy, sexual references, brief descriptions of death & injury, me being in love with paul
character & pairings — paul atreides x fem!reader
word count — 2.4k
a/n — this is a bit of a shorter fic than the others I'm planning as i'm trying to get back into the swing of writing after so long! i couldn't resist writing this about paul as i have fallen back in love with one of my favourite characters. i hope you all enjoy! <3
find my masterlist here!
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You awoke to his fingertips drifting their way across your frame, peppering the freckles and moles on your skin with smooth motions. His calloused fingers were careful not to apply heavy pressure, ghosting along your body, in fear of disturbing your slumber, something he had subconsciously accomplished.
The sunlight was trickling through the sheer curtains, material floating in the warm breeze that the Arrakis air had blessed you with. Shimmers of gold danced their way into the cascade of blankets that shrouded the two intertwined bodies in a covering of comfort. The tangled mess of limbs beneath the protective silk sheets radiated warmth, something that was in plentiful supply in the desert world. The bustle of groups in the courtyard below the haven where you rested began to rise in volume as your ears adapted to the surroundings.
You moaned sincerely, exhaling for as long as your lungs would psychically allow without a cough erupting from your throat. Your eyes slowly open in a drunkenly sleepy state, the sunlight from outside temporarily overwhelming your perception of the world for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut while your body lets out a whine of a yawn. You stirred, flushing your hips and rear against the build behind you, Paul breathed deeply in response sending tingles up your neck and into your thoughts.
His warm hands continued their travels around your body, wrapping their way around your shoulders to hold you close. You found your lips turning in a delirious smile, as you imagined the drowsy figure of devotion behind you, nestled against your warmth and the pillows behind him. Your back pressed into his chest as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, a careful whisper falling from his lips; “I did not mean to wake you.”
He tenderly planted a kiss against the skin that lay there, softly rubbing his cheek against the blemishes decorated along your skin, soaking in your very human spirit. You feel the curve of his jaw drift along your nape as his gentle, slow, kisses make their way along your neck, breathing in every inch of your scent he could take. You moaned in response, opening your eyes totally this time, your body used to the sudden shock of being alive.
“I’m glad you did.” You responded, your voice still groggy, clinging to the last linger of your immobile delicate state. You lay, basking in the calmness that enveloped your being, gently sneaking one of your hands along the front of your nightgown, careful not to disturb Paul’s peaceful position, as you brought a finger up to itch at your eye. His warm breath hummed into your neck in response, your heartbeat aching for him once more. A breath fell from your lips as he held you tightly, taking in the moment as he merged your bodies together into one tenderness engulfed by his power and strength. You savoured the moment like a sip of sweet wine after a hectic meeting, swirling the droplets of love like rivers of drink.
The room around you bathed in your tranquillity. You found your legs moving with your newfound sense of cognition, intertwined in your lover’s frame. The pools of light from the arched windows gushed down the side of the windowsill, soaking the bed and the corner of the room in a stunning haze of molten gold, almost blurry from the waves of blistering heat. The light reflected beautifully off the bed frame, dripping down the carved animal shapes etched within the golden slab, blinding your gaze as your eyelids fluttered. You breathed in, a wave of zesty air running through your nostrils, cleansing the inner workings of your mind with the very soul of the planet.
As you took your sudden breath, you felt Paul's hold shift beneath you under the weight of your slight movement. You seized the moment, taking advantage of his sudden loose grip, adjusting your position and surrendering the window for a better more perfect view. Paul followed your movements as if you were conjoined in thought, his strong arms instinctively enveloping your back, holding you close against his chest in a protective embrace, even though there were no instantaneous threats nearby. You felt his heartbeat slow against your chest, steady and reassuring, his bare skin shining in the light.
As you now faced him, you couldn't help the smile that thrived on your lips, taking in the sight of your betrothed so close. The boy you once knew had transformed into a man before your eyes, a thought which made your heart ache in the face of growing up, leaving adolescence behind. His jawline was more defined, leaving pudgyness behind him, cheekbones higher and his features so handsome and distinguished. A real Duke's son. You felt a sudden rush of rich emotion as your hand traced its fingertips along the side of his jaw, marvelling at how he had grown and changed. His eyes quivered with the sudden light pressure of your skin against his bones.
“Hello.” You beamed softly, his features soaked in the glitter of gold, sparkling along his face and drooping down his perfect nose. The side of his lips began to upturn with a small smile, a flash of his crooked teeth blessing your vision for the smallest second before they were covered by his beautifully pink lips. His eyebrows furrowed as he gazed your way, eyelids almost fighting to stay open, threatening to close because of your close proximity. His hair, messier than usual, fell in delicate strands around his face, framing the perfect bone structure laying there, his cheeks hugging the curls close to his flushed skin.
“Hi.” He breathed, the air fanning across your face as he left a short kiss on your nose, lingering for a moment longer than needed before retreating back to face you. Your heart fluttered, still slightly dozy, but ever so alert for your man. Your special, special, man.
The relationship between you two hadn't sprung up overnight, it had been a cocktail of emotions dancing in the embers of a powerful childhood friendship. However, every subject, noble, royal, or warrior thought the former, that your relationship had been a strategised plan by two houses in desperate need of strength. The concerns of your emotions had been thrown in a heap in favour of their taled hearsay, sheltering your true desires for one other behind a mask of misleading plot and scheme.
From the moment you had first met Paul, soft cheeks that burned deep crimson, green eyes that shone like emeralds in inquiring and thoughtful gaze, baby fat still hanging from his frame, you had known he would be yours. You had taken his hand, being the older of the duo, and whisked him through the castle grounds in which your residence was kept. You documented how he had blushed when your finger outlined his hand when trying to imitate your mother's palm reading practices, thinking it hilarious when he had goggled at you in disbelief when you had told him his death was nigh, throwing your head back, laughing at your own foolishness. You didn't know it then, too sheltered by the shadows of youth and innocence to understand the burning ache that overpowered your every meeting with the delicate boy.
Although caught in the memory, you pondered how these feelings had never been addressed between the two of you. Only acted upon in burning frenzies, unmarried and improper. The naked warmth laying beside you, arms holding you close, was a byproduct of one of these moments. Parents and advisers oblivious to the intense lust you two harboured for one other.
“Did you sleep well?” He pondered, retreating to face you, his eyes darting from eye to eye unable to focus on one, desperate to take in all your features at once. The shimmering green of his eyes almost opaque in the light, shining a shade of hazel into the retinas.
“I did.” You smiled, recollecting the dream that flooded your mind when nestled in between the pillows and Paul’s figure. How real it had felt, “I dreamt of you.”
He hummed in response, as your hands continued their journey along his beautiful jaw, the stubble of manhood ghosting over your fingers as a reminder of his age. The dream had been simple, a premonition, a glimpse into the future of you and your sweet boy.
The sand beneath your feet had glimmered, Spice dancing over the sunburnt dune in which you had been perched. Paul looked different, older, wiser, almost an image of his father, standing proud and bold against the Arrakis rays. His frame was larger as if he had started taking his role as sole heir to his house's name seriously, the unquestionable probability that his father may not be alive forever finally sinking into his mind. He wore a Fremen stillsuit, fitting him like a glove and hugging his newfound larger muscles in a promiscuous yet savage way. Your hands had interlocked as you looked out into the vast desert, your body also adorning a suit of a similar nature, modified presumably by Paul to fit your frame and protect your body's water, storing it for later consumption. A small tent village was buried in the sandy dip below you both, lights and laughter emulating in the dying sun.
When your fingers had interlocked Paul turned to face you, the difference in his features striking you. His hair was longer, as though it hadn't been cut for a few months. The curls still framed his face, which was now older and worn, blemishes patterning the skin from work in the daylight, the planet consuming his once delicate and prince-like qualities. Small wrinkles lined his face, and his mouth turned up in a small treasuring gin, the corners of his eyes creasing in a look of eternal gratitude. But his eyes.
Oh, his eyes. Plunged into the deepest pool of oceanic blue, the colour reaching all across the sclera of his optics, swimming in his iris like a monumental wave on Caladan. A trademark of the Fremen, indigenous people of Arrakis, a sign that he, even you both, had been in their company for a period. He had drawn you in for a kiss, closing his eyes and pressing your lips together softly. One of his hands had gradually reached down the front of your suit, landing carefully on your stomach as if you may break of fragility.
"How is she?" He had whispered, the tube in his nose directing filtered air into his lungs, a massive smile now plastered across his face. You looked down to the small bump in your suit, peaking out in a reminder that you were his forever, and your family was about to start growing.
At this sentence you had awoken, your precious lover’s hands roaming around your arms and as you faced him now, you allowed yourself to smile, a wide preposterous smile.
"Why are you grinning?" He pondered, his hands rubbing along your back. "Was the dream that good, perhaps a premonition?"
A sudden urge ravaged through your body at the sight of him, the gentle sound of his voice. Perhaps the dream had made you hormonal, the thought of pregnancy clouding your judgement in a flash of beautiful white light. Your heart soured, the beating now frantic in your ears, tiredness dripping from your brain as it filtered its way out of your consciousness. For the first time in what felt like years, you were thinking clearly. The flash of the tomorrow, speeding through time at a pace unimaginable to those lacking your incredible power, the Bene Gesserit bloodline rushing through your veins, a path which you could have easily chosen, but instead preferred your heart. The adoration you harboured for this young man, his hair messy, was enough to make your sanity blank.
"I love you." The confession dripped from your lips, carrying the weight of an over decade-long friendship shattering with it. Most would ponder, question, how the friendship was not ruined when Paul first carried you to his room, your arms wrapped around his neck as you planted small drunk kisses against his sweaty skin. The breathless gasps and tender touches could not be shared between friends, mere friends did not know what it felt like to bed each other, bound eternally by an action you frantically clasped when you were mere late teenagers. How, when he came of age, you found yourself laying in these very sheets, starkly bare before his lean figure.
The words hung in the air the two of you shared, your heart beating tighter and quicker than it ever had before, thumping in the back of your mind as you impatiently awaited his reaction. Yet, Paul did not flinch, did not squirm when the three words left your breath in a tiny whisper, barely audible. His eyes maintained their movements between your two visions, still unable and frustrated that he could not drink your very body immediately, he believed it would be more deadly than the Water of Life, it would destroy his very being from the inside out with the amount of admiration he felt within his gut.
He brought his figure forward, interlocking his lips with yours, needy for your taste against his tongue. Your hands scratched down the side of his cheeks, trying your hardest to pull, engulf, him in your worship. You were suddenly reminded of your premonition, the blink into the future, his lips feeling the same as they would then. The thing that would return the man with you now to you at any moment, his love returned you to your shared youth, his palm against your hand as you read his future. But now you saw it, you saw it oh so clearly, and his mortal peril was your last concern when you had him so vulnerable, only yours until the stars exploded into supernova and the planet's moons crashed into the sands.
When he pulled away, his hands retracted from your back to cup your cheeks, running his thumb along the underside of your eye, removing a piece of sleep under his tender grasp. As your proximity caused your breaths to mingle, he answered your statement, the words dripping like saccharine from his tongue. Your sweet boy.
"I love you."
˚ · • . ° .
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atyourmerci · 2 months
Text
⌘ enough for now ⌘
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⌘ ⌘
Summary: You’re left in the WLF interrogation room to be punished when you meet your attacker, the girl you can’t stand and one of her groupies.
Warnings: smut, MDNI, !!VERY DARK MATERIAL!! Talks of death/dying & pain but nothing inflicted, dark!abby, dom!abby, sub!reader, slight dubcon but there is verbal consent given, reader is a cuck (i don’t wanna hear it), knife play, spanking, degradation, praise, bondage, fingering, strap (not used on reader), no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, plot twist?? Idk either
A/N: soooo…hey. This has been sittin for a minute in the drafts. This is actually the first abby fic I ever wrote and I thought it might be a little much. Everyone can thank @littlegingerperson5 bc she encouraged me to share<333 I just want to give one more warning, this fic IS NOT FOR EVERYONE! it’s quite dark esp in the beginning. Just protect your peace and enter if you dare. Okay I love ya, enjoy this utter disgrace of literature. 
Your eyes flutter open to a dark room, your head is pounding, body weak. The only thing you can make out was the ceiling lamp hanging over an old wooden desk. You attempt to touch the drip on your forehead when you realize your arms are bound to ropes hoisted from above you. You pull on the scratchy ropes to no avail, your body was too weak to fight.
You groan at the pain growing in your arms, there’s no telling how long you had been here for, days, hours, weeks maybe. As your memory starts to flood back in, the prison had not been as foreign as when you once woke. This was the WLF interrogation room. Most people never made it out of it alive, but you still couldn’t come to understand why they had brought you here, you were apart of them.
A guttural scream escapes you once more, the newfound motion caused your head wound to trail blood down your cheek. Before you can make your second attempt at freeing yourself there’s a rustling at the door, you watch as two figures make their way in, one much larger than the other. You blink repeatedly as they make their way closer, still foggy from previous impact.
When the figures make their way to the lit desk you make out your captures, Abby Anderson and Jill Meyers, one of the many girls that threw themselves onto Abigail at any chance she might fuck them. You had never returned the same sentiment, you despised her, she was arrogant, selfish, and got anything she wanted from women or the WLF. She hated you just as much, probably since you refused to beg for her to simply give you the honor of touching you.
“Abby what the fuck is this,” you bark with gritted teeth. Abby stands smugly with her large biceps crossed, smirking at your position, “awhh did you think you’d just get off the hook for running off on mission like that,” Jill snickers at Abby’s snarky remark. Your memories start rolling back before you can respond. “I just got lucky enough having the honor to… fix your behavior,” Abby says almost pouting, digging into you.
You can’t understand what to be angrier about, the fact that the WLF sent Abby here to reprimand you or that fact that she brought the little bitch Jill with her. Your face turns to Jill that plays with her long brunette hair, twirling it around her fingers, inching her crotch into Abby’s thigh like a gloried toddler with tits. “What’s the need for your slut of the night? Cant trust you wont touch me before you kill me?” You jab at Jill but remain in eye contact with Abby with every word.
“Watch it bitch! Jus’ mad she doesn’t want you,” Jill says grabbing onto Abby’s arm, bulging with veins as she begins heating up. “Don’t worry Jill she’s all yours…and every other girl in the next 15 mile radius,” you say with a light giggle. Abby never takes her eyes from you, her breath growing heavier with anger, “will you shut the fuck up already,” Abby barks.
With no denial of your statement Jill hits Abby’s arm with a scoff, “can we just kill her now, take me back to your room, I need you abs,” Jill cocks into lust as if I wasn’t listening, I guess it didn’t matter if I wouldn’t live to tell the story. Abby’s eyes remaining on your beaten body, covered in only ratty panties and a cut up tank top that barely covered your midriff. Her eyes clung to you, making her way up and down your revealed body with her eyes making you shutter. You were always attracted to the brute woman but shoved it far back into your mind once she opened her fucking mouth.
“Get on the table,” Abby demands not moving an inch. “What?” Jill says confused, probably unsure of who Abby is even talking to since her eyes remain on you but sensing you are bound at the wrist... could she have at least brought a whore with at a few brain cells to torture you. “Get on the fucking table Jill,” her eyes finally fall to Jill, picking her up with ease and throwing her on the old wooden desk, Jill gasps at the suddenness.
Within seconds Abby rips down Jill’s pants and panties in one foul swoop, then trails her hands up to her blouse to bring it up above her breast. Jill taken aback from Abby’s manhandling throws her head back in pleasure, moaning out and gripping into the blonde’s head. Abby advances her open mouth onto the girls’ cunt, lapping her tongue at her slit. “God, are you fucking serious!” You say in disgust, ignoring the way your thoughts roam to how good she looked taking control of Jills body effortlessly.
Abby grins up at you, tongue still deep into Jill, she lets out a huff of satisfaction. Jill was so pleased she gave no attention to how Abby glared at your body as she ate her out. She was enjoying this, watching your arms aimlessly tug at your restraints while Jill was sprawled out whorishly for her use.
You couldn’t help the aching pain that now grew in between your legs, begging for attention. Abby moves her head up from the girl’s cunt into a standing position and begins drilling her pointer and ring finger into her sopping folds. She looks up into your eyes, head slightly cocked upwards, slick wet on her chin with parted lips. A reluctant whimper escapes your mouth at her gaze. Your response causes Abby to grip her free hand onto the edge of the desk, licking her lips pleased.
Your body becomes restless, squirming around in your restraints, you bite into your bottom lip for some type of release. “God you’re such a whore,” Abby directs to you with a smug look, Jill moans out in the assumption its for her since the blonde continued to beat into her cunt. Another moan escapes from your mouth at her words, muffled enough by Jills screams.
Abby suddenly shifts her direction and rips her fingers out of Jill, instantly shoving them into the girl’s mouth. Once Jill had sucked the slick from Abby’s thick fingers, she trailed her fingers to her belt unbuckling it herself. “Get on your knees,” She demands, which Jill eagerly agrees to dropping herself onto the floor.
Abby unsheathes her long black strap, veins trailing up it, the sight causes you to gawk. Abby takes notice of your gaping mouth and shoots you a pleased smirk while grappling the brunette’s hair roughly, shoving her cock into her mouth suddenly.
The ache growing in your pussy begs for release, you grip them tightly to create friction that sends your head back in pleasure, whimpers flowing out of your needy throat. A trail of slick begins trailing down your dirty thighs. “Not even touching you and your cunt’s that wet, s’fucking pathetic,” she says huskily. Your eyes are directed back to her, watching her biceps flex in Jill’s hair as she fucks into her mouth. You hear Jill begin to gag on Abby’s length as she relentless drills into her, like nothing would be enough to fulfill her needs. “Abby-“Jill muffles out in chokes in attempt to regain her attention.
Whimpers continue to spew out as you eagerly rub your thighs needing her touch. “Needy little slut, aren’t you?” Abby growls at you, ignoring Jills gags. “Abby, it hurts!” Jill blurts out ultimately regaining breath. Abby finally directs her attention down to the fucked-out brunette, “what is your fucking problem?” Abby says gripping her neck with her strong hand, now hovering over her. “C-can you just fuck me,” Jill says meekly under her grasp.
“You’re pissing me off, go back to the room ill deal with you later,” she unleashes her grasp on Jill. She scoffs at Abby’s dismissal as she pulls up her pants, throwing her blouse back on in an exaggerated sigh and huffing her way out like a spoiled brat. Abby had treated her like shit, but your pussy begged for her sole attention.
As the door slams shut Abby makes her way to your hanging body, cunt throbbing with slick. She begins circling around you slowly, “and what am I going to do with you huh?” she parks her body in front of you, inches away from your sweaty face. “Pathetic little girl, dripping down your thighs watching me fuck Jill,” her breath so close causes the hair on your body to spike.
Without warning she lays a slap onto your pulsing cunt that makes you yelp. She rubs your clothed pussy before laying another smack onto it, this time causing a pleasurable moan to discharge. “Abby please-” you beg her with weary eyes. “No… you don’t get to rush this,” she says with no remorse.
Her eyes are dark. Pitch fucking black. Like something had taken over her that you’ve never seen. Sure, you’ve seen her kill people with her bare hands, ripping people open at the tips of her fingers, but she had never seemed this menacing, this deranged. You looked like her next victim, and maybe you were ready for that, as long as she showed you a blissful summit before tearing your throat out.
She begins to pace around you again, slower, inching her eyes up your body, completely at her disposal. Trailing her fingertips gently down like she was deciding where she wanted you first, where she could inflict pain first that would keep you alive long enough for her full amusement. If you died too quickly that wouldn’t be fun for her, would it?
“wh-what are you going to do to me,” you barely mutter out as she’s behind you. You can’t see her, but you feel her gaze, the heat of her piercing into your skin without the need to even feel her. She doesn’t respond at first, enjoying the sight of you squirming under her touch-less gaze. The only noise in the room was the enthralled whimpers that couldn’t seem to be held back- until it was penetrated by the merciless breathy laugh from your capture.
You froze when that breathe was so close to the shell of your ear that it sent goosebumps flying down your figure, “I just want to play with you.” You bite your lip to hold back any reaction, but it couldn’t stop the subconscious tightening of your thighs in search of release.
And she saw it.
She began agonizingly dragging her calloused fingers up the tops of your thighs, inching towards your clothed core, still breathing deeply in your ear. Your legs were shaking restlessly, growing tired of pressing so harshly. “That’s what you want, hmm?” she taunts, as her fingers roam, catching the hem of your panties but never allowing you the satisfaction of pleasure.
“You want to get played with, like a toy? That’s what you want.” She answers the question for you, as you didn’t give her any sense of a verbal response.
“You don’t play nice with others,” bitchy response, but you were hoping she’d get on with punishing you for it. Any touch would be better than this, the lack of her. Her large hand darts to your core, handling you in her grasp, the suddenness mixed with the intensity sent your body flying back into her chest as she stabilized your body with her free hand gripped onto your breast, her fingers pinching at your hardened bud. She was so fucking close now, the heat of her transferring into your skin.
“Never said I did.” Her breath had increased in speed, just as affected by having you in this way. There were no words that could formulate as you both heaved, your body subconsciously grinding into her hand as a groan rang in your ear, finally allowing herself to inform you how badly she needed this, needed you, even if she didn’t want to admit it.
After aimlessly grinding into her hand, she finally began to pulse the edge of her palm start into your swollen clit, eliciting a guttural moan from your throat. As your moans quickened, her speed did as well. She pushed her body further into you, like she needed to be as close as she could get.
“Do you want this?” she says in almost a whisper, barely heard over the desperation in your voice. Your eyes dart open with her sentiment, a branch, an exit door, a way out. You should say no, tell her to stop fucking with you and get it over with, put an end to your suffering.
“Y-yes,” blurts out, you didn’t command the response rather your body spoke for you.
Her hand rips out of its grip on your pulsing cunt that provokes a whine of neediness from you. You feel her reach from behind her, and a click of a switchblade unclasping from the safety of its cover.
Fuck.
The hand adorned to your red bud darts back down to your panties, she hooks her fingers under and pulls them up harshly as she uses her other hand to slice them clean off your body, falling to your feet on the cold floor. A relieved breath falls from your throat. Her free hand now meets the back of your neck to stabilize you so she can watch you from below her.
She begins dragging the sharp tip of the blade from the bottom of your lip down, achingly slow, any sudden movement risking the consequences of penetrating your skin. She gets to your navel when she realizes your stillness, your strategy to walk out of here with no other wounds that you possibly came in with.
She lets out a smug sigh at your determination while she circles your stomach with the tip, “tell me why I shouldn’t mark that pretty tummy right now.” Your breath hitches, eyes widening. “I-I,” you attempt to muster up any plea for your life to no avail. At your pathetic attempt she tightens her grip on your neck, bringing your ear closer to her lips, “give me one reason.”
All morals leave you, the distain you had for the brute woman vanishing in mere seconds. “You fucking won okay…y- you have me. Fuck me like you fuck your whores.”
Pathetic? Absolutely. But a lie? No. Your body craved her, it always had, your mind wouldn’t let you have her. That’s when the tip began its decent down to the top of your cunt, inching down so close you’d accepted that you would get off on the simple touch of the shiny dagger on your swollen clit.
Your body tensed as the tip was so close to your clit if you would’ve breathed too harshly you could’ve done it yourself when you she darted her dagger clad palm above your head, slicing down the ropes holding you hostage.
Your body came tumbling down, crashing weakly onto the cold cement. While she had cut you loose the ropes still bound you at the wrist. She picked your body up gently, strangely kind, as if she was not here enforcing your demise. She carefully walked you to the wooden table, placing you where Jill had been, minutes, hours? ago. Time had left your senses with the connection to the wound now blood-dried on your forehead.
Your legs subconsciously opened for her, bottoms of your feet placed down on the cracked wood. She hovered over you, bringing her hands to either side of your face, closing in on you. For a moment she just watched you, a glimmer of almost curiosity in her eyes as you watched her.
Neither of you spoke, she was the one calling the shots but she just…looked at you, watched as you waited for her command, but it never came. She was frozen over your gaze.
“Kiss me.” You command her. It was a shot in the dark, a wild assumption, but you had to try.
A puzzled look contorts her face, “what?” It landed. She never kissed Jill, and definitely not you. She could kill, she could fuck, but she couldn’t handle the sense of connectedness, vulnerability.
“You know what I said,” you were getting head strong at this point, but you had already cracked her, the true light pooling over you wordlessly. “No.” She says in a breathy scoff, still unmoving from her stance, still frozen from after she placed you.
It was only long shot but your body made it for you, using the strength your elbows still had to hoist yourself up, so close to her face you could feel her breath falter above you. Her eyes trailing between your eyes and lips. “Kiss me.” You repeat yourself.
In seconds her walls break around her as her lips meet yours, hungry, unsatisfied, as if she never allowed herself the pleasure of true intimacy. One of her hands came up to cup your cheek as the other met the small of your back to support you while your arms are still bound at the wrist, in between your thighs uselessly.
Her hands only stray for a second to release your aching wrist, but her lips never left yours, she let herself have it, and now she couldn’t get enough. She would have Swallowed you whole if you would have let her.
As you were sat at the edge of the table, both of her hands met your back, pulling you as close as she could get to you. Your hands were finally able to touch the warmth of her, the scars that littered her skin, the lines and definition of her arms, the veins in her hands. You allowed yourself to roam every inch of her, while you gave her the time to indulge your mouth.
Her hand snaked from your back to your still throbbing core, only intensified by the withheld touch of her. When her calloused fingers met your clit for the first time your mouth gaped at the sensation of relief. Allowing her tongue to enter as you moaned out for her.
She couldn’t pace herself, rubbing quick circles around your puffy clit, your whimpers causing moans to slip out of her own mouth and into yours. Your legs were already shaking, nearing an early climax.
She brought you to the edge without letting you finish, moving her fingers down your slit, gliding easily with the pent up slick she had coaxed out of you. “Abby please-“
Her mouth still agape she begin to toy with your fluttering hole, “not yet,” she heaves out. She plunged her ring and middle finger deep inside you, groaning at the feeling of you pulsing around her.
“Fuck!” You scream out, latching onto her broad shoulders to stabilize yourself. “I know…I know,” she coos.
While her kisses came gently…her fingers did not. She drove them as deep as she could, making sure the palm of her hand left pressure on the swelling of your clit. Your body was giving out, you tried hold yourself up by digging your nails into her shoulders but in the state you were in, it wasn’t going to last much longer.
As your hands begun to waver, losing grip she lowered your back onto the table, never leaving your lips as she continued to stretch you out. You were finally ready to let go, give up complete control to your capture.
“A-abby I’m c-close I don’t-“ you began to breath out when she stops your pathetic attempts to warn her. “It’s okay pretty, cum on my fingers.”
Her words forced you to the edge, shaking under her while she watched you. As you rode out the bliss of your climax she continued to coax you through it with ‘there you go’ and ‘doing so good for me’. You were completely under her spell.
When she finally slowed the pace of her fingers, you lied there trying to regain your breath. Your body was completely spent, bruised, abused in more ways than one. You stared at her doe-eyed in adoration to your attacker. “Can I-“ you began to speak, seeking out the chance to return the sentiment, let her feel the same bliss she granted you.
She shook her head with finality. “That’s enough for now.”
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