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#DID I MISS ANY SILVER TAGS
hoegender · 7 months
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YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO CRY.
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holllandtrash · 6 months
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say don't go | charles leclerc
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
based off of taylor swift's 'stay don't go' why'd you have to lead me on? why'd you have to twist the knife? walk away and leave me bleedin'
word count: 5.2k tags/warnings: slight angst, mentions of being disloyal, this is kinda sad, mention of smut i guess but blink and you miss it
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You weren’t one to let your past haunt you. It was the past for a reason, it belonged behind you, all you could do was grow into a better version of yourself.
But what the hell were you supposed to do when Charles showed up at your door after six months of silence? 
It was a week into December and you were reluctantly putting up Christmas decorations because you were tired of the comments your friends made, telling you to get into the holiday spirit. Now you had the silver tinsel gripped in your hand as Charles stood on your front step, light flurries landing on his coat only to melt immediately after. 
It was the middle of the day and you lived in a crowded area, but passersby on the sidewalk and those driving past had no idea there was a Ferrari driver only metres away from them.
But no one would guess that Charles Leclerc would be travelling to Bristol during his holidays.
“What? Were you in the neighbourhood?” You asked, flicking the tinsel off of your hand and shaking off any remnants. You watched it fall to the floor before looking up, “Felt like stopping by?” 
“Can I come in?” Charles asked, glancing behind you. Was he looking to see if you had company? If you had moved on? Regardless of what, or who, he was looking for, his shoulders relaxed when he could tell you were alone. All that was behind you was cardboard boxes labelled Christmas. 
“Give me three good reasons why I shouldn't shut the door in your face,” your demand was laced with your usual sweet tone, the same one that always intimated Charles because he never knew what to make of it. Never once did you raise your voice, you never yelled, never showed signs of anger. Even when you were annoyed, you always sounded calm. 
He sucked in a breath, “Well, it’s cold out.” He chuckled, but when you didn’t see any humour in his words he just nodded and moved on. “I was, in fact, in the neighbourhood- well I was in London, just figured I’d make a quick trip out west.”
Those weren’t good enough reasons and he knew it. You moved to grab the door and Charles reacted by holding his hand out to stop it from shutting, eyes trained on yours. 
His cheeks were red, not accustomed to the British winters. He wasn’t wearing mitts and you could see how his hands had responded to the dry air by cracking at the knuckles. His lips trembled, not because he was nervous but because this was probably the coldest his body temperature had dropped to in a long time. 
Which had you questioning how long he had been standing outside your door before finally knocking.
“There’s some things I’ve been meaning to say for a while now,” Charles spoke softly and you could see his breath with each word. “And you don’t need to say anything, but I’d love it if you’d listen.”
Maybe you felt bad that he was cold. Maybe you were curious as to what he had to say to you after so long. Maybe part of you still missed him and if these were the last few minutes you’d get with him, you weren’t going to let them pass.
Whatever the reason, you held the door open and he stepped inside. You watched as he ran his fingers through his hair and slid his coat off, hanging it on the empty hook on the wall. Your eyes darted down to the shoes he wore and Charles recognized that look, knowing better than to walk any further with his shoes on. He smiled, sort of, remembering the first time you asked him to take his shoes off when he entered your apartment. 
If this was six months ago, you would have had slippers waiting for him to put on, but instead Charles was left to just his socks. You, though, seemed quite cozy. The matching sweats and jumper was only a shade darker than the slippers you wore and Charles almost asked where you purchased the set from, but he held his tongue because now wasn’t the time for casual conversation.
“Tea?” You offered, glancing at the kettle sitting on the stove. It had started whistling only minutes before he showed up but you hadn’t had a second to pour yourself a cup, too caught up in trying to untangle tinsel.
“Don’t want to put you out,” he shook his head, but when you manoeuvred past him to step into the kitchen, he didn’t stop you from grabbing two cups from the cupboard. He watched, standing at a cautious distance, as you made the two drinks the same way you always did. 
Charles was brought back to the time he walked into his own flat in Monaco and you were kneeling on the counter, trying to find a suitable cup because all of his mugs were too big and bulky for tea. He held his hand to your back, worried you’d tip backwards, which you didn’t, but you were happy he was there to help you off the counter and greet you with a kiss. 
“I’ll invest in new cups,” he said. He never did.
He didn’t like the silence that lingered between you now, probably the first time it ever bothered him, so he cleared his throat, “I like your new place.”
You nodded, “Thank you.”
He glanced around at the decor and spoke up again, “So you’ve been well?”
“You don’t need to pretend to care about how I've been.”
“I do care.”
The slow yet icy stare you gave him as you peered over your shoulder had Charles wondering if showing up here was a good idea. Instead of opening his mouth again, Charles looked at the decorations littered on the floor. 
He was drawn towards the open box of ornaments that was placed on the couch. He noticed the tree in the corner, but all you had put up so far was a string of lights. Curious, he looked closer into the box and smiled to himself when he saw a vintage Formula 1 Ferrari, no bigger than the palm of his hand. He also spotted a racing helmet, but couldn’t recognize the driver it belonged to.
It wouldn’t have shocked him if the rest of this box was F1 inspired Christmas ornaments. Either ones you had purchased yourself or ones that were given to you as gifts. 
Charles was always amazed at your knowledge of Formula 1. With your father being a retired driver himself, he shouldn’t have been surprised when you swept him under the rug during a trivia night. He admired your passion for the sport and maybe that’s why when he met you in the Ferrari garage, he wasn’t as quick to judge you like he was to everyone else who had purchased VIP passes for the weekend. 
You were there for the sport, for the racing, you didn’t care who was driving the car, it wasn’t like you had favorite drivers.
You were raised to appreciate the history of the sport, the roots, the beginnings. Because of that, you were drawn to the older teams, the classics. Williams, McLaren and against your fathers wishes, Ferrari. So of course you wanted to experience the Ferrari hospitality during a race weekend at least once. To see the cars up close, to be in the garage, to see the race from an entirely new perspective.
It was Australia, the third race of the 2023 season. It was a race that Charles tried hard to forget due to his DNF at the first turn, but there were highlights he cherished before the incident. 
He remembered standing in the garage before the first practice session and turning his head to flash a smile towards the VIP members standing at the back. He paid no attention to any of them in particular, but you stood out. The way you were so focused on the screen, taking in the Tech Talk segment that was playing on F1TV. You hadn’t even noticed Charles looking.
He saw you again the second day, closer to the front of the group before the start of FP3. You were wearing a white set, arms crossed over your chest with the headphones resting around your neck. You weren’t watching anything this time, instead you were in the middle of a conversation with a few of the mechanics. 
At first, Charles thought they were flirting with you. But when you pointed at the rear wing, lines drawn across your forehead and eyebrows pinched together in studious fashion, Charles got the hint that this wasn’t just a casual conversation. 
And then you held out your hand to introduce yourself, your once serious expression turning soft. You smiled at the mechanics as you shook both of their hands, seeming truly grateful to have met them. 
Naturally, Charles was curious as to what sort of conversation just took place. He waited a few minutes before asking Mark, the one of two mechanics who seemed to be doing most of the talking. 
“What was that about?” Charles asked.
Mark looked over his shoulder at you, but you were too engrossed in the screen again to notice the few sets on you.
“You don’t know who she is?” Mark asked. 
“Should I?” Charles glanced your way. This time, you caught it. 
You were also the first to look away.
“Damon Hill’s daughter,” Mark chuckled, probably in disbelief himself over who he just met. “She’s also got her masters in engineering. You know what she pointed out- the activation time for DRS is delayed compared to everyone else on the grid. I don’t know how she noticed it, but we’ll take a look at the data and if she’s onto something we’ll fix it before qualifying.”
Damon Hill’s daughter. The 1996 world champion. He had made a name for himself, known for being one of Schumacher's rivals during his prime. Charles knew he had kids, but didn’t know who they were. 
He wanted to introduce himself, but he waited till after qualifying. 
Was he a little taken aback when you seemed to be paying more attention to Carlos’ side of the garage at the end of the day? Maybe, but you had been watching him all weekend so far so he didn’t like the sudden change. 
His P7 starting position was nothing to be overly proud of, but the congratulations was the first thing out of your mouth when he approached you.
“Thank you,” he nodded, suddenly feeling a bit more pride now than five minutes ago. He glanced at the car and then back at you, at the VIP lanyard resting over your chest, at your eyes that momentarily had him forgetting why he walked over to you in the first place. 
You held your hand in the same polite manner you had with the mechanics and you introduced yourself as Charles shook it slowly. 
“Damon Hill’s daughter,” he stated. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”
You cocked your head slightly, “Is that a line?”
A blush crept up to his cheeks when he realised how flirtatious he sounded without trying to, “No- I mean,” he licked his lips. “I guess it could be but I wasn’t trying for that.”
“I only just graduated,” you answered his question, which wasn’t really a question. “Figured I’d watch a few races, check out a few teams before I decide if I want to dip my toe in the motorsports field.”
“Driver?” He asked, eyebrows raised even though Mark had told him what you studied. But you laughed and Charles was glad he brought up the idea of you getting behind the wheel. He could get used to your laugh. 
“Engineer,” you corrected. “To be honest, I think IndyCar might be more my thing. Plus I know Arrow McLaren is looking to expand, hire a few more performance engineers. Mind if I use you as a reference? I saw those mechanics working on your DRS set up, don’t let them take the credit for catching the activation error.”
It was his turn to laugh. He liked your humour, something else he could get used to.
“Mark mentioned you pointed it out,” Charles nodded, unable to keep from smiling. He liked the way you spoke. Not only did he find your accent endearing, but he liked how sure you were of yourself. You knew your talents, you knew what you were capable of. He admired it. 
“Good luck tomorrow,” you said, taking it upon yourself to end the conversation. You adjusted the purse over your shoulder and gave him a soft smile. “It was nice meeting you, Charles.”
And then you walked off, happily letting someone else from the team accompany you, probably an engineer. Probably someone who could match your expertise in a conversation.
Charles didn’t know when he’d see you again, but he took it upon himself to make sure it was sooner than later.
Following Australia, the drivers had a bit of a break. Almost an entire month.
It was only a few days into the break when he asked his manager to get Damon Hill’s contact information. 
Confused was an understatement when your dad called you and said ‘Tell me why I just got an unsolicited text from Charles Leclerc asking if he could have your phone number’. 
By the end of the week, Charles had flown you from Paris, where you resided at the time, to Nice. He was there at the airport to pick you up and drive you to Monaco. 
You spent that entirety of the break together. 
Charles was smitten. As were you. 
But you were cautious. 
You knew first hand that racing was at the top of his priority list. You weren’t about to get your hopes up and think that these few weeks meant anything. He just had time on his hands and you showed interest. 
However, it was hard not to fall for Charles. He treated you well when you were together. He was easy to talk to. He made you feel safe, admired, wanted. He asked all the questions he could think of to get to know you. He made you breakfast in the morning, or at least he tried to. The mornings when you woke up to the smell of burnt eggs were just as entertaining. Plus you figured you could get used to the way he wrapped his arm around your waist as you took over. The kisses he peppered on your shoulder that tempted you towards pulling him back to the bedroom.
By the time the season picked up again for round 4 in Baku, you were so used to being around him that you had to tell yourself not to be hurt that he didn't suggest you go with him.
You and Charles did a lot of things during those few weeks, but never once did you label what you were. That conversation never came up. Neither did the exclusivity talk.
He still called. He texted you daily. He treated you like you were special, but racing came before a relationship. Even your dad reminded you of that. He told you not to dwell on it, that Charles would come to his senses when he felt secure with the team, with the season. He didn’t need the support of a girlfriend, he needed the support of his team.
And then Charles informed you he was flying you out to Miami. He wanted you to watch the race again. He wanted you there. 
You didn’t accompany him to the track, but he greeted you with wide arms and the brightest grin when you showed up at the Ferrari garage. His hand stayed on your lower back for a bit as he showed you around, giving you a proper tour but when you came across Mark it was almost as if Charles passed you off. 
He said ‘Here, chat with Mark for a bit, I’m sure you’ve got some opinions about the car’ and then he walked away.
You tried not to think too much about it, maybe he had obligations, media, signings, something. He wouldn’t fly you out to Miami and abandon you the first chance he got. He was a driver, he had priorities. You weren’t one of them, not yet.
It was a difficult situation to be in. When Charles gave you his attention, he gave you every ounce of it. But when he was gone, he was gone. Distant, on his phone, sometimes he quite literally disappeared like at the end of the day on Saturday and you were left in the Ferrari garage wondering where the hell he got off to. 
But then he knocked on your hotel room door at a little after 10 and who were you to turn him away? 
Charles pulled you towards the bed, dragging you with him as he laid on the mattress. He asked about your day between the kisses he left down your neck. You answered as best as you could, but when his hands found the button of your trousers, it became a little more difficult to collect your thoughts. 
When he gave you his attention, he gave you every ounce of it. 
You had forgotten all about his disappearances earlier. They didn’t matter, he was here now. His lips trailing every inch of your skin as your back curved off the bed. You tried to remind him that he had a race tomorrow, that you both could just go to sleep if he wanted but Charles only smirked and raised his face back to yours.
He hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with a ghost of a kiss, “Ma chérie, I’m not going to sleep until I hear you scream my name.”
He kissed the corner of your lips and then trailed down towards your ear, adding a quiet, “At least twice,” to the end of the original statement. 
And Charles was true to his word. He had you seeing stars with just his tongue alone in a matter of minutes. 
Charles worshipped you, he took care of you. In a short period of time, he came to know your body and how to get the reactions he desired. He loved seeing you come undone, loving being the one to bring you to the edge and watch you spill over. 
Maybe it was a pride he was chasing, but you wouldn’t think of that possibility until it was too late.
When he climbed under the covers next to you at the end of the night, you could still make out the shape of his body, his gentle features, even in the dark. Your hand found his chest, sliding upwards until it wrapped around his shoulders, pulling yourself closer to him.
He traced his fingers over your cheek, pushing a strand of hair out of your face as he whispered, “Comment ai-je eu cette chance?” How did I get so lucky? 
That did it for you.
You weren’t just smitten anymore. You were in love. 
Another impromptu break after Miami meant you had a few more weeks with Charles before he had to give his attention back to racing. You didn’t spend it all in Monaco this time. After about a week, Charles suggested the two of you go back to your home. Back to Paris.
Paris with him was heavenly. 
The rest of the world didn’t matter when it was just the two of you together. Your days were spent taking in the city, your evenings were spent in a variety of restaurants, lounges, anywhere he could spoil you, it seemed. 
It was nearing your last few days before he had to leave when he suggested you take a midnight stroll. The weather was perfect, the streets wouldn’t be too busy. You had no reason to say no. 
And there was something about walking the streets of Paris with Charles at night, holding his hand while he spun you under his arm beneath the glow of a street lamp. The Eiffel Tower was sparkling in the distance. Charles’ eyes lit up brighter than it. 
There was something about him. About this moment. About the last few months. All of it led up to standing here with him now.
And you knew better, but that didn’t stop you.
“I love you.”
And just like that, you faded into madness. Slowly, silently, but it was inevitable. 
Charles didn’t say anything. His lips parted like he wanted to, like he thought about it, only to ultimately lick his lips and inhale a sharp breath. 
By saying I love you, you plunged a knife into your own chest, opening yourself up to vulnerability, but his silence only twisted it in deeper. 
You backed up, hand dropping from his. Was that his doing or yours? He whispered your name, but only out of pity. He didn’t love you. He didn’t love you. 
Suddenly Paris didn’t seem so heavenly.
Charles left that night. Maybe he thought you were asleep, but you heard the door swing on its hinges. You heard the wheels of his suitcase being dragged out into the hallway. You turned over in bed, despite knowing you’d find his side empty, but you didn’t think it would turn cold so fast. 
A few days later, Charles was spotted walking into the paddock of the Monaco Grand Prix, but he wasn’t alone.
Next to him, the stunning Alexandra Saint Mleux. Even her name was beautiful.
You had heard whispers that Charles and her had a history, but you didn’t think anything of it. Why would you worry yourself with speculation when he was putting you on a pedestal when you were together? 
He had a way of making you feel wanted, but you weren’t the only one who felt that way.
Did she know you two were together? That he was with you in Paris? Was he seeing both of you or did he run back to her the second you told him something he wasn’t ready to hear?
You tried to move on, really. There was no relationship for you to cling to, Charles never said you were exclusive. He just knew the right words to say to make you feel like you were. 
You flew to Indianapolis for the Indy500. A rash decision, but the further away from Monaco the better. Your connections at Arrow McLaren gave you the chance to get a closer look at the inner workings of the team, had you momentarily forgetting about Charles. You wanted to be an engineer, not the girlfriend of a driver. You told yourself to get it together.
But then you returned home and seeing the slippers you had bought for Charles had you wondering why you couldn’t be both. You would have been both if he just said something, if he just told you he loved you. 
You should have distanced yourself from Formula 1, at least for a little while. You should have turned down the invitation from a partnering brand of Ferrari, enticing you to come to Spain for the race. You should have flown back to the states, reconnect with Arrow McLaren.
Instead you found yourself in Barcelona. The entire time you were there you knew it was a mistake and if you couldn’t figure that out on your own, seeing Alexandra chat with some Ferrari team members below while you sat up above in the hospitality was a painful reminder. 
Part of you considered talking to her. You wanted to know if she was in the same boat you were- and if she was clueless, maybe give her a heads up that Charles was going to say sweet nothings to her at night only to leave her in the dark. 
But Alexandra wasn’t the one you needed to talk to.
Between practice and qualifying on Saturday, you made your way to the paddock knowing that’s where Charles would be. You walked past Alexandra chatting to someone a few motorhomes down, so you felt better knowing she wasn’t currently with him.
Luck would have it, you ran into Mark outside of Ferrari. He invited you in of course, always happy to chat about the sport with someone who appreciated it on the same level and you assured him you would, you just had to talk to Charles first.
You knocked on the door of his driver's room, not even sure what you were going to say. You were hurt, you were saddened, you were angry but you hadn't had time to think about what you would say to him when you were finally face to face again.
The door swung open and there he was. Shocked to see you, first of all, but not upset. You stood in the hallway and watched as Charles took a breath of relief, a sliver of a smile creeping up on his lips as he held the door open for you to walk in.
Your heart jolted at the idea that maybe, he still wanted you. The look he gave you was almost enough for you to forget he hadn’t said a word to you since you told him you loved him. 
Almost. 
You stepped in and leaned against the door after it shut, keeping a safe distance as he stood back against the massage table. 
Your lips parted, but before you could get a word out, his phone started to ring. You both glanced at the contact, at who was trying to get a hold of him.
Alexandra.
You swallowed, waiting until he let it go to voicemail before your timid voice filled the room. “You love her?”
Maybe Charles didn’t know how to love anyone. You’d believe it, with the way he tensed the second the word passed through your lips. He didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no, either.
“I can’t commit, Y/N.” He tried to say, like that made up for everything. Like that’s the answer you were looking for. 
“No, you can, Charles, but not to me.” You stated, keeping your voice calm. You weren’t one to yell. Causing a scene wasn’t your thing. You were always so soft spoken. Soft spoken, but straight to the facts. “Were you seeing both of us at the same time?”
“She knows, if that's what you're wondering." Charles quickly slid that piece of information in there. “She found out- about us. Threatened to leave me if-”
“If you didn’t choose?” You raised your eyebrows. Once again, his silence spoke volume. “So did you make up your mind before or after Paris?”
Charles averted his gaze for a second, “I realised in Paris I couldn’t love you the way you loved me.”
“You probably realised that a lot earlier,” you pointed out.
Charles must have known you adored him. There was no way he didn’t see the way you looked at him, the way you worshipped him. He knew and still strung you along, making you think he could love you back if you were just patient.
“You didn’t need to lead me on as long as you did, Charles.”
“I didn’t want to lose you.”
I didn’t want to lose you, he says. Bringing light to the fact that he had you. You were his, in a sense. Despite never saying the words out loud. 
But he was never yours.
“So I was there, for what?” You asked. “As a backup? In case things with Alexandra didn’t work out?”
Charles was intimated by how calm you were. He would have preferred if you yelled at him, if you fought with him. It would make it easier on both ends to put whatever this relationship was to rest. Instead, you were serene. You came here to talk, to get answers, you didn’t come here to form a divide. 
Because if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t ready to let go. How could you let go when you hadn’t spoken? He hadn’t given you closure, he didn’t say I don’t love you he just…didn’t say anything. 
You weren’t going to beg for him to come back, but in the far corners of your mind you were hoping that your appearance here would make him question his decision. You were banking on the idea that when he saw you, he’d remember what he saw in the first place when you met in Australia. 
If he changed his mind right now, you’d put all of this behind you. You’d stay at his side, you’d be there for him, you’d be his for real this time.
If he, once again, said nothing, you’d go. You’d go and you’d stay gone.
“I loved you,” you whispered. The past tense striking Charles more than he thought it would, but he didn’t show it. Loved. You loved him, and you still could. 
Thirty seconds passed. Then a minute. Almost two and the only thing that lingered between you was silence. Heavy, loud, painful silence. 
You grabbed the handle of the door and decided enough time had gone on. You deserved better than this, than a man who couldn’t make a decision, than someone who played with your feelings because they couldn’t figure out their own. 
The second you pulled the door back, your name fell from Charles’ lips. You were one step into the hall, halfway to gone, and he stopped you. 
All he had to do was say don’t go. All he had to do was tell you he wanted you. 
With your back still to the Ferrari driver, you waited for those next words but they never came. You knew they wouldn’t. 
That was the last time you spoke to Charles. You knew how to stay true to your word too. 
So why was he suddenly here, six months later, sitting on your couch and looking at you like he was waiting for you to say something first when you made it clear a long time ago if you were gone, you were gone.
Charles only took a sip of his tea before putting it on the coffee table. He then moved the box of Christmas ornaments, not liking the divide it put between you as if he wasn't the one to create the wedge in the first place. 
You were stupid, to speak first, but you were tired of the silence. He came here for a reason and if he wasn’t going to tell you why in the next two minutes, you were going to send him back out into the snow.
“How’s Alexandra?” You asked, not that you were interested in knowing if he was happy or thriving in his relationship. You were, however, impressed to see that he could in fact commit, but you were right about that. He just didn’t want to commit to you. 
“Do you care?” He asked in return. 
You shook your head slightly, “I do not.”
Charles smiled at your honesty. Your gentle tone didn’t match the brutal truth.
“So let’s not talk about her,” Charles said and you nodded in agreement. He shifted in his spot, glancing at the decorations, the tea, really anything but you. 
And you weren’t about to wait again, not if this was going to lead to the one thing your silence always led to. 
You sucked in a breath, “Charles if you don’t tell me why you’re here…”
He nodded, knowing that this was all on him. He was lucky enough to even be allowed into your home, and he knew you were slowly regretting that decision the longer he just didn’t get to the point. 
Charles lifted his head, eyes finally meeting yours. He even flinched, like he was trying to reach for your hand only to decide against it at the last second, relying on just his words for a change.
“I shouldn’t have let you go.”
Part 2 - now that we don’t talk
1K notes · View notes
lovelettersfromluna · 7 months
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⋆。˚☾ Silver Springs☽˚。⋆
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Summary: A step by step guide on how not to get over Ellie fucking Williams
an: AHHHH!! Here it is you guys! I wanna start off by thanking every single one of you for all the support not only did the first part of this series receive, but how much support my return received! I missed you all so so much and I’m so happy you’re enjoying this series just as much as I am enjoying writing it! I had some trouble tagging a few if you guys, as it wasn’t allowing your users to show up, so I really do apologize about that :( if any of you would like to dm me so we can solve it, feel free! I hope you all enjoy the second part to this series, and so much more is in store for this one! So stick around 🖤🖤🖤
Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+, MDNI, Alcohol and Marijuana usage, jealous!Ellie, slight asshole!Ellie, cheating, oral r!receiving, edging, fingering r!receiving, pet names, kissing, let me know if I missed anything!!
You can read part 1, here!
Tag list: @eveshyper @mattm1964 @teawithnosugar @macaroni676 @ximtiredx @gold-dustwomxn @mina-281 @aethelwyneleigh27 @abbysmainbitch @lil-elliesgf @franreadss @fairyysoiree @r3wbeef @liizzygrant @elliewilliamsgf69 @mabelle-cherie @cauliflowerpatch @forelliesposts @lunasolac @nil-eena @pillowprincessleia @pedropascalsbbg @ellieswifeyy @lesbiantothemoonandback @dummysimp011 @miniaturebananadefendor @sweetpumpkins @thesmutconnoisseur @miksde @delicategirlie
Ellie had always been possessive.
Over anything, really. Over her father, or her favorite forest green hoodie, or the bracelets you two made for each other when you were both in middle school. If it was hers in any way, there was a pretty good chance that she’d be possessive over it.
She was also, very possessive over you.
You never really noticed, mainly because she’s usually extremely discreet about it. Often time, it’ll go unnoticed by those around her, because Ellie knows not to make a scene over someone tugging you along to ride home with them after a party, or to have you stay in their bed instead of hers. And she only does it because you’re her best friend, not theirs. They shouldn’t be trying to take you anyways.
Yeah. That was the only reason.
So the shock you felt when she acted the way she did in front of Alex was something you’d never really seen before. Sure, your best friend had a temper. You couldn’t count on your hands how many times you had to talk down a very drunk Ellie from fighting some idiot jock because they told her she couldn’t beat them at arm wrestling, but that was stupid party banter. What happened at the beginning of class? That was just unwarranted.
And as much as you hoped it was simply Ellie being in a mood that morning, that wasn’t the end of it.
After that day in class, you and Alex grew nearly inseparable. You showed her around to all of her classes, she followed you to the library to study, and to the cafe to have lunch, she even ended up coming back to your apartment to play video games one night when your study session ran past the opening hours of the campus library. Days had gone by, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, Alex had almost fully taken Ellie’s spot as your best friend.
But then again, Sofia took your spot too.
That was another thing, what used to be like pulling teeth to see your best friend after she had gotten herself a girlfriend, had suddenly taken a drastic change.
After the first initial situation with Alex, Ellie was suddenly almost always in the picture.
It first started with the text messages. When Ellie first started dating Sofia, there were only a few messages here and there, a few stupid tiktoks sent between one another, and the less than frequent plans that you’d try to make with each other that would almost always be cancelled due to last minute plans Ellie ended up making with Sofia.
Now? Now Ellie would text you all the time. She’d send you video after video telling you what kind of cat you were, or which season you were, and she’d make sure to never miss out on sending you pictures of her homework, asking you if it looked good enough to submit, and she was constantly trying to make more plans with you. It was just like how things were before Sofia, back when it was just you, and Ellie, and the little traditions that you and her had every weekend.
Only it wasn't just like those times...now she was...so much more.
It made things a bit awkward when you were studying with Alex one afternoon, the silence of you and her falling comfortably between the both of you as you simply scribbled notes in your books, enjoying each others company, when suddenly your phone went off. It was a message from Ellie.
Waddup dorrrrk
U busy tonight?
You frown softly as you look up from your phone, catching a glimpse of Alex's face as she types away at her computer before you looked back down at your phone, typing out a response to Ellie.
Yeah
prob gonna head home after this and sleep
wya?
library
lemme come pick you up then
no thats okay. Im with Alex
You stare down at your phone as you await a response from Ellie. you see her little chat bubble pop up, stay for a moment, and then disappear. It does this for a minute or two, and you know she's struggling to find the right words to say. She always does this whenever she doesn't know exactly what to respond with
u know Alex is a prick right?
what makes you say that?
she just is
mmm
good to know
ditch her for me
im not gonna do that
where's Sof?
at her dorm
cool
well I'll catch you later Ellie
Ellie never responded after that
and thats how things were for the most part. You would spend your time with Alex, and Ellie would try her best to intervene between that time that you spent with her. Whether it was swooping in and trying to pull you away from Alex while you were walking together, or blowing up your phone whenever she knew you were together, she’d make herself known.
And you still had that damn party to go to that following weekend
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You let out a soft sigh as you stared at yourself in the mirror. Your hands came up, smoothing down the clothes that you had on. The strapless black top you wore hugged your middle perfectly, a contrast to the usual baggy, comfy clothes you wore, and the denim jeans hung low on your hip, hugging your curves perfectly. Your hair was styled, and your makeup was done, but you couldn’t help but pout softly at yourself, turning around and eyeing yourself in the mirror, shaking out your hair, pursing your lips together before releasing them.
God….you really didn’t wanna go to this party.
And you were very close to cancelling. You already had your excuse thought up too, you were going to text Ellie and tell her that you had come down with a cold, and that you couldn’t make it out tonight, that you’d catch her and Sofia at the next one.
But she was already pulling you aside after class to make sure you were going.
You were walking out of your last class for the day, the idea of the party on your mind the entire afternoon. You didn’t want to deal with Ellie, as bad as that sounded. She had been so weird ever since you and Alex became friends, and it bothered you how clingy she had suddenly become now that your time was suddenly taken up by someone else.
She was being possessive, and childish, and it wasn’t your job to make her feel better about you having other friends or apologizing for the fact that you were finally moving on-
“Hey! Hey wait up!” The familiar voice called out from behind you, and it almost made you wince. Ellie’s footsteps grew closer and closer as she ran behind you to catch up. You almost wanted to put your headphones on, a silent gesture that you didn’t want to deal with any of Ellie’s antics in that moment.
But she was still your best friend
You gave a tired smile once she finally catches up with you, and you can see the way her eyes twinkle the second she’s looking down at you. You figure it’s because she’s catching you on a rare moment when you’re not with Alex.
“There you are…” She mumbles softly, and you’re sure that if you weren’t so annoyed with her recent behavior, you’d be swooning over how fucking good she looked. Despite the fall weather, it was a bit warmer that day, so she opted for a loose fitted white t shirt, her signature baggy blue jeans, and of course her favorite rings. Her brown hair was tucked into a loose bun, and she wore a backwards faded maroon colored baseball cap.
Once again, Ellie Williams was a fucking dream.
“Here I am…” you mumble awkwardly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear before you watch her, prompting her to get out whatever it was that she needed to talk about. Instead, she simply stares for a bit, seemingly taking in your appearance for a moment before she hums softly.
“No Alex today?” She questions, looking around to see if she just missed her. You could hear that tone in her voice, the one that was hopeful for a specific answer from you. You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head as you push past the doors of the building that lead to the campus courtyard. “She left early to run some errands” you explain, a soft frown on your face as you catch the familiar smug smirk of triumph on your best friends lips.
“You know she isn’t that bad, right? I think you two would get along…you have a lot in common” you tried, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you looked up at Ellie.
It was true, Ellie and Alex were extremely similar. In the time that you’d been spending with Alex, there were frequent moments where you felt like you were with Ellie. Certain things she said or did, or the type of jokes she’d make, or the music she listened to. Hell, they even dressed similarly, you were sure that if they gave each other a shot, they’d become just as close, if not closer than you were with either of them.
Or should you rather say, if Ellie gave her a chance.
Your words make Ellie scoff, the girls veiny hands shoving into her pockets as she strolled along with you. “Get along? Yeah fuckin right…I’d rather drag my bare ass along the concrete than hang out with that moron” she huffed out, her words making you scrunch your nose in disgust at the vivid picture she was painting for you, meant to express her distaste for the girl.
“But why? You really don’t have any reason to hate her, Els…because she sat in your seat? You don’t even sit there anymore…” you mumbled the last part of your comment under your breath, your eyes trailing down towards your feet as you frown softly, thinking back to the times before Alex showed up. How lonely it was sitting alone, walking to and from classes by yourself, spending the weekends cooped up in your home with nothing to do, no one to talk to.
Ellie frowned with you, her own green eyes zeroing in on the ground similarly to the way you did as she found herself deep in thought. It confused her too, why it bothered her so much. When you’d ask, her excuse was that she just felt Alex was bad news, and that she didn’t want anyone taking advantage of you or ruining your friendship with her.
That was always her excuse.
She inhaled deeply, replacing her frown with a bright smile, almost as if she were trying to distract you from your question before she changed the subject entirely. “Do you know what you’re gonna wear tomorrow? I heard this parties gonna be fuckin dope” she breathed out, turning towards you and flashing her pearly whites.
It almost gives you whiplash. She’d done it before, completely disregarded your attempts at trying to figure out why exactly she hated Alex so much, wanting more of a reason beside Ellie’s ‘bad feeling’ about the girl. It made you feel even more confused and frustrated with her and how she was acting towards you.
But every time she flashed those pretty teeth your way, it was like your mind went blank.
You blinked a few times as you stared up at her, clearing your throat before your mouth started moving before your brain could properly form a the sentence you wanted to say. Which was something along the lines of ‘im not feeling well! I’ll probably skip this one’
But that isn’t what leaves past your lips.
“I’m uh…not sure yet. I guess you’ll see once I’m there” you breath out softly, followed by a soft chuckle that sounds similar to a sound of defeat, because that’s exactly what’s happened, you’ve been defeated. Ellie has once again wiggled her way into that little soft spot she knew she had for you, and managed to have her way with you, no matter how annoyed you were with her.
Ellie beams the second she heard your words, nodding as she gives you a nudge with her elbow. “That’s why I like to hear! Hey, I’ll text you, okay? Keep you updated on what’s happening” she promises, giving you a nod. Before you can respond, her phone vibrated in her back pocket, to which she pulled out to check it, and you already know who it is. It rips you away from the little interaction you’re having with her, and it makes you sigh softly as you give Ellie a soft nod. “I’ll see you there, Els” you promise, adjusting your bag on your shoulder before you began walking ahead of her.
“I’m pretty tired so…I’ll head home” you nod, not giving her anymore room to stick around and tell you how she can’t stay with you any longer because she has to meet Sofia somewhere. That hurts much more than whatever the hell it was that was happening between you and her within that moment. She watched you, opening her mouth to stop you from leaving but you were already giving her a small wave, paired with a soft smile as you began making your way home.
And that was that. You went home and spent the rest of the day hating the fact that you had said yes to Ellie. You hated that she still had this weird power over you to get whatever she wanted whenever she wanted it.
It’s how you found yourself staring blankly at yourself in the mirror, feeling ridiculous in your outfit, unable to even recognize yourself, and feeling even more ridiculous for going to the stupid party in the first place.
On your bed, you hear your phone buzz, and you already know who it is. You let out a soft huff, grabbing the platform sandals you had settled next to you in the mirror and sitting on your bed to put them on. You open up your messages to read through them while you do so.
yooooo
What time u want us to pick you up?
The messages make you frown, and for a minute your eyes trail towards the bubble at the very top of your phone, the one that has a silly picture of Ellie that you had taken of her when she was high out of her mind and babbling about something that was too incoherent to understand. Once you’ve put your shoes on, you grab the phone and begin typing out a message back to her.
sup
you guys head out without me, I’ll meet you there
huh?
I stg if ur flaking on me
I’m not
I’ll be there relax
ok who’s bringing you then?
The text makes you frown further, because you can practically hear the tone of accusatory thick within Ellie’s words from the text alone, and it pisses you off. Because why the hell would she be prying on who’s taking you to the party? And why does it even matter in the first place?
You sigh softly, eyeing the text for a few more moments before you stand up off the bed, shove your phone into your back pocket and leave your room to head out into your kitchen.
Once you’re there, you open up one of the highest cupboards, you’re glad that your sandals are platforms, because if they weren’t, you wouldn’t be able to reach the single bottle of tequila that sits at the very top of the cupboard. You huff in annoyance, because you can vividly recall the night you and Ellie bought the bottle. She was complaining about your lack of provisions, to which prompted the both of you to make a late night run to the liquor store to buy it. The only contents from the bottle that was missing was from that of which came from nights that you and Ellie wanted to let loose a bit, other than that, you never touched it. And with Ellie being Ellie, she made sure to tuck the bottle away at the very top of your cupboard with ease, where she knew you’d struggle to reach it, just so she could piss you off a bit.
Funny, Ellie seemed to always have a way of pissing you off.
When you finally managed to take the bottle down from the cupboard, you grabbed one of the only two shot glasses that you had in your house, the other belonging to Ellie, and you poured some of the clear liquid out for yourself.
Because lord knows with how this night was already going, you were going to fucking need it.
You threw it back, wincing as the vile liquid burned down your throat, making its presence in your body known as it traveled down into your stomach, settling in and making it feel as though a match was thrown into your body. Instantly, it was already making you feel looser, less tense, the worries you had about the party were still very much there, but they didn't seem to matter as much.
And when you heard the knock on your door, you knew your date was there to pick you up.
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Did you end up inviting Alex to be your plus one to the party that Ellie invited you to? Yes.
Did this somehow morph into a date between you and Alex? Yes.
Did you know what you were getting yourself into by inviting Alex, knowing how much worse this would make things with Ellie? Sort of, but you couldn't really find it in you to care in that moment.
Not when Alex was showering you in compliments the second you opened the door for her. Not when Alex looked amazing in her outfit, and smelled even better, making you swoon for her the second she was wrapping her strong arms around your waist and guiding her out to your car. And definitely not when Alex's hand on your thigh on the way there was making your little heart flutter and dance, thanking the heavens above for granting you such a pretty girl to take along to this party with, and hopefully make it so that it wouldn't have the bitter ending of you sulking home while Ellie and Sofia made out in a random room, making it so that you were forced to catch the bus home.
Yeah, there was no way in hell you were letting Ellie ruin this for you.
It wasn't long until you both arrived at the house where the party was being held. Had it been any other day, the sight of drunk college kids, loud music, and the smell of beer and weed would have made you scrunch up your nose in disgust and walk back to your cozy little apartment, to make a warm cup of tea and cuddle up in your bed. But you were tipsy, you felt really fucking hot, and the longer Alex had her hands on you, the needier you felt.
It was time you finally give into the cliche world of being a college student, and lived a little. Because if not now, then when?
Alex had her hand slung loosely around your hips, her strong fingers slipped into your belt loop as she kept you close, toying with the soft sliver of skin that peeked out between the waist band of your jeans, and the bottom of your top. Upon walking into the house, you were glad to see that it wasn't a huge frat party. It was a bit more laid back, with the majority of the party goers splayed out within the living room, already having drunk or high conversations. Or they were in the kitchen, making drinks, or some even opted to head outside in the front yard or the back, the cold autumn air acting as an escape from the warmth that emitted from inside the house.
You feel glad that you don't spot Ellie and Sofia as soon as you walk in, knowing that, that was a confrontation that you were not drunk enough to face. You hum softly as Alex leans into you, your hand slipping down between the both of you as you interlock your fingers with hers, and drag her along to the kitchen.
That's how you find Alex pressed up against you, her strong hands resting against the edge of the counter top, hard chest pressing into your back, chin resting against your shoulder as she watches you pour out two drinks into red solo cups for you and her. She whispers sweet words in your ears, and to remember that she's driving you home, to make sure that you don't add any liquor to her cup. You giggle softly as you nod, melting into the girls touch, her soft caress and her even softer words. It's hard to remember the last time you were touched like this, given this sort of attention, told these sort of words. You figure that you could get used to it, especially when it's coming from her.
When you turn around in her arms, her hands are on your hips, giving them a slight squeeze as she smirks down at you. Both drinks are in your hand, and you simply stare up at her, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth, an overwhelming sense of warmth spreading throughout your chest, making it feel as though you could pounce this girl at any given moment-
And then it all stops.
Because suddenly, through the lust that you feel for Alex, your lips merely inches apart, the sound of someone clearing their throat somehow makes it through the music, cutting right in between the two of you and forcing you to look in the direction of where the sound was coming from, and you’re only met with Ellie.
A very angry, and annoyed, Ellie.
Her green eyes are dark, casted downward as she stares at you and Alex. She has a solo cup hanging loosely between her strong fingers, sharp jaw clenching as her eyes slowly drift between you and Alex, finally settling on you and giving you a look of disbelief, almost as if to ask if you were serious, and if this was some stupid fucking joke that you had.
And it’s so fucking awkward, that you have no choice but to break the silence.
“Ellie!” You chirp out, handing one of the cups to Alex before you turn to her, giving her an apologetic look, to which she simply sighs and gives you a nod before she briefly glares in Ellie’s direction.
You inhale deeply before you make your way over to your friend, clutching your cup slightly as you give her a smile. “Hey…sorry I didn’t come looking for you, did you and Sofia get in alright-“ Ellie immediately cuts you off, because you’re clearly trying to ease the burn of Alex being there, and you aren’t even sure why, because you truly don’t owe Ellie a single thing.
“What the fuck did you bring her for?” She gets straight to the point, and you can tell just how much she’s been smoking from her voice. It’s low, and rough, and if the way she was questioning wasn’t making you so fucking annoyed.
You would’ve been soaking wet just from the sound of it.
You raise your eyebrows in disbelief, a soft scoff leaving your lips as she give her a shrug. “Because I can? I didn’t know I was suddenly banned from bringing people places with me” you challenge her, your eyebrows furrowed as you stare up at the tall girl. Ellie chuckles softly, her tongue pressing against the inside of her cheek as she looks down at the floor before she nods slowly, smirking down at you.
“You know what? You can…don’t mind me” she hums out, a bit to casually for how angry she sounded mere moments ago. Her sudden change of tone makes you blink a few times, trying to see if you heard her correctly. You were convinced that this weird situation was going to turn into an argument, and you’d finally blow up on your best friend for acting fucking weird…
But that wasn’t at all what was happening.
“Oh…okay then…” you mumble out awkwardly, suddenly feeling small under Ellie’s gaze. Her eyes are low, and you can feel the way she’s eating you up, taking you in and shamelessly raking down every inch of your body with her emerald orbs that just seem different tonight than they have on any other night.
You both stay there for a few moments longer, and your skin begins to burn with the need to get away from the extremely awkward situation, making your mind cloudy with confusion as you’ve never once felt that way about Ellie. She’s a person you relate with the feelings of comfort, and warmth.
And now? You just needed to get away from her.
You inhale deeply, taking a large gulp of your drink that was far too strong, the contents burning your throat, which makes you wince as it travels down your body and settles in your stomach. You give Ellie a nod, clearing your throat as you avoid eye contact with her at all times. “Right, so….I’ll uh…I’ll catch you later” you try, giving your friend a half smile as you’re already making your way out of the kitchen to find Alex.
Ellie on the other hand? Simply gives you a slow nod, her eyes still shamelessly eating you up as you walk o it of the kitchen.
The only thing on your mind? Was that you needed to get drunk and forget about everything that just happened.
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The laugh that leaves your body is almost too much to handle, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you lean into Alex, your face mere inches from your neck as you rest your weight against her, your feet feeling wobbly underneath you. Her hand was placed loosely on your hip, smiling lazily as she watched you lose yourself at another one of the jokes she had made.
The night had carried on after the situation with Ellie in the kitchen. After that, you had quickly found your way to Alex, relief settling in once you were finally able to enjoy the party with your date. You two were stuck to each other like glue from that point on, the vibes of the party making it easier to loosen up around Alex and truly get to know her outside of an academic setting, which was the main place of your relationship with her thus far. However, there was a looming presence that you simply could not shake from your spot with Alex at the bottom of the stairs, tucked away from everyone else.
Ellie.
Her eyes never left yours from her point on the couch. A blunt was loosely hanging from her tattooed hand, lifting it up and taking a drag ever so often, a beer in the other, and to make things even worse? She had Sofia propped right on her lap the entire time she watched you.
And as much as you tried to ignore it? Ellie’s glares were lethal. She made no attempt in hiding it, or pretending like she wasn’t keeping an eye on you and Alex like a fucking hawk the entire night. After about the tenth time of catching her run her tongue along her teeth every time Alex tried getting closer, you’d had enough.
Its how you ended up in your current position. You had dragged Alex to the kitchen with you, and she had taken a seat on the island, where you made your own spot standing between her spread legs. The more you drank, the funnier Alex got, and you suddenly couldn’t breath every time she spewed another silly joke your way.
You hummed softly, coming down from your laughing fit and finally catching your breath. Alex smirked softly at you, watching as you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, glossy eyes growing hazy, and giving the dreamiest look, strands of hair cascading down into your face, which made her push to the side to get a better look at you. It was like a movie, the universe setting up the most perfect time for you and her to finally do it, to finally break the barrier and press each others lips against one another…
But this isn’t a movie, and none of this is perfect.
You realize that, when you feel Alex’s body get shoved to the side, causing you to gasp softly and grip your cup a bit tighter, as well as grip Alex’s arm to make sure she isn’t pushed off of the island counter entirely. You’re ready to yell at whatever asshole made it a point to sit right next to you and Alex, when there’s not only an entire kitchen, but an entire house with thousands of other places to sit, because who on earth would do something so inconsiderate.
Ellie. Ellie Williams would.
Her laugh is something you’d always loved, when she was high, it was loud and boisterous and electrifying, and it had the power to make even the saddest person laugh. You especially loved it, when her voice would crack, and she’d shed a tear because whatever she was laughing at was far too much to handle.
But right now, in this very moment, her laugh was like nails on a chalkboard.
She laughs loudly, taking a seat right next to Alex on the island counter top, adjusting her worn out backwards baseball cap on her head, blunt perched between her lips, and taking a long drag before she blows the smoke right into Alex’s face. “Shit…my bad, man. I’ve just been looking everywhere for my two favorite people!” She chuckles out. Her words make you wince.
You’re frowning right at her, because you know exactly what she’s doing, her eyes are red, lips are plump and pink from all the biting and sucking she’d most definitely been doing, and her eyes never leave Alex’s, studying her face like she was a predator studying their prey, looking for all the flaws they could use to wiggle their way into the cracks.
And you realize, Ellie Williams was fucking cock blocking you.
You inhale deeply, trying to control your temper before you give Ellie a very exaggerated smile. “So nice of you to join us, Ellie….but I’m sure you have other things to do, why don’t you just…catch us later?” You try, your voice desperately trying to get Ellie away from the both of you, your eyes practically bulging out of your head as you try to silently tell your friend to leave.
But she ignores you completely.
Alex, being the angel that she is, simply chuckles softly as she shakes her head. “Not a problem…the more the merrier, right?” She nods, her words genuine. Her hand reaches down, wrapping around your waist and pulling you forward to be tucked into the side of her body, which warms you up.
A flash of anger ripples through Ellie’s expression, her face hard as she eyed the way Alex pulls you in before she quickly shakes it away, giving Alex a nod as she lifts the blunt to her lips once again. “You smoke?” She questions casually, her eyes drifting towards you for a brief moment before she blows the smoke away from you and Alex. Alex hums softly as she nods, “I do…but I’m DD tonight, so I’ve gotta pass” she politely declines, her long fingers rubbing a sliver of your exposed skin mindlessly.
Ellie rolls her eyes, giving a playful scoff “ahhh don’t be stupid, do you see this house? You and the princess here can crash in any one of’em” she smirks softly, eyeing you for a moment, watching the way you become bashful at the nickname. Alex sighs softly, looking down at you for a moment before she gives a half shrug. “Why the hell not…” she mumbles under her breath, taking the blunt from Ellie and bringing it to her lips, Ellie watching with the most mischievous look on her face, it almost looks fucking comical.
And that, was Alex’s first mistake.
Because sure, Alex had smoked a few times. She liked to pop an edible on nights where she couldn’t sleep or she needed a bit of rest and relaxation. So of course, she wasn’t at all a stranger to the angel that was Mary Jane herself.
But she had no idea, what Ellie was packing.
Ellie had always prided herself on having the best weed on campus, the college kids flocking to her every time she rolled up at a party. She had anything and everything you could think of, each strain providing something different for its users.
And for her? Her tolerance was high of course, so she would opt for something a bit stronger. The thing about that, is that not everyone could handle what Ellie smoked.
Alex was a prime example of that.
It only took about three passes between her and Ellie for Alex to be stumbling off of the counter and towards the couch, mumbling something about needing to be somewhere ‘soft’. You knew things were trouble as soon as Ellie was giving that smirk as she watched Alex pull from the blunt, one that looked like she’d already won whatever stupid battle she was playing with Alex.
Before you knew it, you were helping Alex up the stairs to a spare bedroom, struggling yourself because you were still very much drunk, helping her into bed, and watching her as she shoved her face into the pillow, let out a loud groan, and promptly passed out.
Alex had indeed, greened out.
You let out a soft huff as you stood back, watching the girl for a moment and thinking about everything she was experience, wishing you were able to take it all away and rewind time back to that moment in the kitchen, when your lips were mere inches apart, so close to tasting one another and cutting through this stupid slow burn that you had between one another.
But by the looks of that stupid smirk of triumph on Ellie’s lips as she watched you tug the girl to the stairs and to a spare bedroom, that wasn’t written in the stares for you.
You were so confused, and as you walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind you and making sure no one would walk in and interrupt her slumber, all you could think about is why Ellie was doing this. She was sabotaging you, that was without a doubt, but you just couldn’t understand why. Surely, you weren’t so blind that you wouldn’t be able to see that Alex was a bad person. You felt like your judgment of character was quite good, looking back at everyone you’d ever trusted, and trying to figure out if you’d ever gone wrong with who that wasn’t
But you couldn’t, nothing came up.
You pouted softly, making your way back into the kitchen and grabbing another cup and filling it with a drink. You figured, you might as well get your moneys worth through this damned party, and as much as you wanted to confront Ellie, you weren’t sure you could handle her reasoning behind doing what she did to you.
But alas, Ellie seemed to have continued her streak on making herself present in places that you wished she wasn’t, because as you were making your way to sit down at the bottom of the stairs, staring down into the orange color of your drink that was being distorted by the lights floating around in the party, you suddenly felt the familiar presence standing over you.
“Damn…a few pulls and that’s what takes her out? I think I’m doing you a favor, princess” you don’t even have to look up to know that she has that stupid fucking smirk on her lips. You let out a low sigh, resting your forehead against the palm of your hand before you bring your cup to your lips, taking another sip.
“I really don’t have time for this right now, Ellie. I’m finishing this, and then I’m going to bed with Alex” you explain, trying your best to put an end to this pointless conversation. You finally look up at her, giving her an unamused look. She’s seemed to have ditched her blunt and her baseball cap, a red solo held lazily between her hand as she takes a sip as well. Her smirk is gone once she hears your words, rolling her eyes as she leans against the wall next to the stairs.
“Seriously? You’re still interested in that idiot after what just happened? Isn’t she even the slightest bit pathetic to you?” She tried, and you swear you can hear her voice falling to a desperate tone. You scoff, unable to pay her tone any mind as you raise your eyebrows in disbelief.
“Her? The only one pathetic here is you, Ellie. I’m not stupid, I know exactly what you’re doing…the fact that you even had the time to do that was pathetic. Where even is Sofia? Don’t you have her to keep you occupied?” You practically spit out, unable to stop your words from sounding as harsh as they do. You know you’ll regret it later, despite the fact that Ellie very much deserved it.
Ellie eyed you carefully, bringing her cup to her lips before she gave a shrug that was far too nonchalant for what she was saying. “Dunno…she left a while ago” she mumbles out, staring at the bottom of your cup.
The way she says it, the way she had almost zero regard for the girl that she was raving about with stars in her eyes was almost scary, a chill running up your spine as you watched your friend.
You blinked a few times before you inhaled deeply, looking around at the house you were sitting in. The amount of people had lessened greatly since when you first arrived. What used to be a couch full of people was now only filled with a couple, passed out and wrapped up in each others arms. You sighed softly, throwing back the rest of what was in your cup down your throat before you shoved the empty cup towards Ellie’s chest. “I’m gonna go to bed….let me know when you wanna start acting normal again” you sigh out softly, turning around to begin walking up the stairs. A strong hand on your wrist stops you.
You frown, turning around and looking down to see Ellie’s tattooed hand squeezing your wrist, making you sigh softly. You try tugging your hand out of her grasp, clearly not in the mood for anymore of her tricks. “Ellie…come on. Im drunk, I’m tired, I am severely touch deprived, and right now, I just really wanna go to bed” you mumble out, your voice tired as you try wiggling your way out of her right hold on your hand, your hazy eyes looking up at her for a moment.
Thats when you catch it, that look of desperation that had become so frequent in your best friend. It was like she was begging you for something, begging for you to understand what she was saying, or what she was feeling. It makes your heart hurt, because it makes you realize that for the first time in the many years of your friendship with Ellie, you can’t understand her. You can’t read her feelings like you can your own, and the worst part of it all?
You can’t help her.
It makes you frown deeply, and you open your mouth to say something, to speak softly to your friend and try to come to a moral high ground where you could put aside her behavior, and try to understand what the root of it was. But before you can speak, you’re suddenly being dragged up the stairs.
You nearly trip over your own feet, the chunky sandals you decided to wear, paired with the alcohol in your system made it extremely hard to keep up with Ellie’s quick pace. You aren’t really sure how someone who’d spent the entire night drinking and smoking was able to move with such dexterity. You open your mouth to try and protest, to try and ask Ellie where on earth she was taking you, but those questions are all answered, because soon she’s tugging you into another spare bedroom, and locking the door behind her.
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you watch your friend lock the door, and remorse you felt for her suddenly gone as it was now replaced with pure annoyance. “Seriously, Ellie? I told you I don’t have time for any games” you groan out, moving your arms so that they were crossed over your chest. You expect her to give you another witty remark, one that was about you or Alex, about how stupid you are for going for someone like that. But she doesn’t do that, in fact, she doesn’t say anything. Ellie begins pacing back and forth in front of you, her strong hand coming up to run through her short brown hair, making it fall down in front of her face again as she stares down at the ground deep in thought.
Her actions make you scoff, rolling your eyes as you sigh out loudly. “And now you’re pacing…you know I was going to cut you some slack. I was going to let all of this go because frankly, I don’t want to deal with your bizarre behavior, but now that we’re here and you’re literally in front of me pacing as it I did something wrong, I can’t let it go anymore! You know what, Ellie…I’ve been so patient with you and I think that-“ your rant is cut off, and at first you aren’t really sure what’s happening. Your brain struggles to register what it is that’s happening, what it is that’s forced your rant shorter than you had wished. But when you finally come to, you aren’t sure if any of this is even real anymore.
Because suddenly, Ellie is kissing you.
You were too caught up in your rant, that you didn’t even realize Ellie had stopped pacing, and was staring at you with a conflicting look, before she inhaled deeply and was nearly stomping towards you, cupping both of your cheeks with her hands and pressing her lips on yours.
All of your words die down in your throat, and you’re melting into the kiss, and you can’t remember how many times you’d though about this. You can’t remember all the times you’d dreamed of Ellie doing this exact thing. Grabbing you, and kissing you like her life depended on it, like she needed your lips to breath, acting as a lifeline that kept her connected to the real world. Your hands went up to grip her wrists softly, a quiet whine leaving your lips and going directly to Ellie’s, and it makes her groan.
Her hands leave your face, and the lack of warmth on your cheeks makes you whine softly, but you aren’t without it for long, because her large hands slowly travel down your body, running along your soft skin until they settle on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze before they slide down further, resting on your ass, to which she gives a firm squeeze.
Her grip makes you gasp, and she takes the advantage of pushing her tongue into your mouth, exploring you entirely and making you moan into her. Her mouth is warm, and wet, and it makes all of the blood in your body rush to your core. Your hands go to her chest, tugging at her shirt slightly as you let her dominate the kiss, playing with your tongue as she pleased, your head clouded with the an ever growing lust for your best friend.
“Ellie…” you moan softly into her mouth, the sound makes her groan, giving your ass a firm squeeze before her head drops down to attack your neck in kisses, her mouth licking, sucking, and biting on the soft skin of your throat. She isn’t sure she’s ever heard a sound so sweet, a sound that had the capability of throwing her into a frenzy of lust so quickly. “Lemme take care of you…” she mumbles out against your skin, giving your throat a playful nip.
It makes you whine softly, and before you can nod, beg her for everything you’d ever imagined, everything you’d ever wanted from her, a heavy, looming thought settles in. It’s like a dark cloud, one that quickly rains down on you and drenches you from the inside out, reminding you of why you couldn’t do this.
Sofia.
The name echos throughout your mind, and it makes you frown deeply, because it reminds you that this is wrong, and you couldn’t do this. You refused to be this, to be the other woman to your best friend of all people.
You frown deeply, shaking your head as you try to push Ellie away from you. “But…Sofia…” you mumble out, opening your mouth again to explain why you couldn’t do this, why she couldn’t do this, but Ellie quickly cuts you off with her lips on yours. She swallows down the words that were hanging off the edge of your lips, shaking her own head as she gives your hips a gentle squeeze.
“Isn’t here….you don’t need to worry about her right now…” she hums against your mouth, kissing you once more before she breaks the kiss, staring deep into your eyes, her own one’s blown out and lust filled. Her strong, calloused fingers go to grip your chin, angling your face so you’re staring up at her. “This is about you, and me right now…okay?” She promises, her words genuine, her eyes filled with something you can’t exactly make out.
And as much as the little voice inside your head screams at you to stop, to leave and go elsewhere, your heart is doing something entirely different, and the look in Ellie’s eyes is one you can’t deny.
So, you give in to her.
You stare into her eyes for a moment longer before you give her the tiniest nod, giving your trust to the girl. With that, she presses her lips against yours, the kiss was needy and sloppy and there were so many emotions put into it. Your head was spinning because you couldn’t understand the fact that this was actually happening.
You were actually kissing Ellie.
Through the clouds of your mind, Ellie begins pushing you back until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, her hand pressing against your chest gently and pushing you back to sit on the bed. You stare up at her when she does this, your eyes wide and needy, and it makes Ellie groan. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty…” she mumbles out, more so to herself than to you. You bite your lip softly, watching closely as she crawls over your body, pressing kisses against your exposed collar bones and neck until she reaches your lips again, taking the breath from your lungs away once again.
Ellie hums against you, relishing in the taste of your mouth, her hands traveling down your body until they reached your jeans, her skilled fingers undoing them. You pout softly, breaking away from the kiss and looking down at Ellie’s tattooed hand tugging at the waistband of your jeans. Ellie chuckles softly at the look on your face, to which she leans in and presses a kiss to your pouty lips.
“I told you…M’gonna take care of you…you trust me, don’t you baby?” She questioned, her green eyes staring into yours, hand massaging your waist gently. It feels like you can’t breath, because the look in her eyes, and the names she’s calling you are all things straight out of a fairy tale, and it makes you wonder whether this is all a dream or not. Even if it was, you decided you’d enjoy it to its fullest.
You stare down at Ellie’s lips before looking into her eyes and giving her a nod. “Of course I trust you, Els…” you hum out softly, giving her a gentle smile. The sound of your voice, and the little smile you give her makes her heart feel like it’ll burst, and she’s smiling with you, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips before she gives you a nod and kisses down your body until she’s on your knees in front of you.
Ellie brought her hands up to the back of either one of your knees, pulling you so your legs were spread, and you were at the edge of the bed. You propped yourself up on your palms, pressing them into the bed as you stared down at Ellie. You inhaled deeply, trying to fight off the intense butterflies you felt in your stomach, the feeling enough to make your head spin. Ellie stared up at you, gently tugging your jeans off your body and tossing them to the side. She presses a kiss to your inner thigh, humming softly as she kissed her way to your clothed core, her lips ghosting over the place you needed her most. “You’re in good hands with me, Angel…I promise” she assured you, giving you another slight nod before she presses the softest kiss to your pussy.
You gasp softly, watching as Ellie’s eyes never leave yours, scanning your face the entire time to make sure you liked what she was doing. She smirks softly against you as she watches the way you tug your bottom lip between your teeth, the way your eyes grow darker, filled with lust as you stare down at her. Both of her strong hands grip your thighs, keeping you spread for her as her kisses on your pussy grow firmer, making you whine. “Ellie…please…” you beg, and it makes her smirk against you again.
“So needy…tell me…what is it that you want, baby? Who’s tongue are you needy for?” She purrs out, her voice low and dripping with lust as she pulls your panties to the side painfully slow. You whine softly at the feeling of the cool air of the bedroom hitting your bare, wet pussy, it forces your hips to buck forward a bit.
“Yours…I want your mouth on me Ellie…please…don’t tease…” you moan out, your head tilting to the side as you watch her movements closely, hoping it’ll somehow make her speed up. She chuckles softly, a low hiss leaving her lips as she watches a string of your arousal connect to your cotton panties. She bites her lip, tugging them further to the side to get a good look at your core.
“Fuck yeah…look at how fucking wet you are, princess…so needy for me…” she hums out, getting a good look at your pussy before she slowly brings her mouth to your core, tauntingly slow, eyes never leaving yours. “For me, right? It’s all for me?” She questions, voice low. There’s a hint of desperation, like she needs to hear that it’s for her, she needs confirmation that this is her doing, and no one else’s.
It makes you moan loudly.
You give an eager nod, your hands fisting the sheets underneath you. “Yours! It’s all…all for you Ellie..” you confirm, because despite the cloudiness in your head, through all of it, there’s no doubt that she’s doing this to you, that Ellie is the reasoning behind the state you were in. Ellie smiles, and it’s like she’s so proud of you, like you’ve made her the happiest girl in the world just by telling her the truth.
You want to stick with that for a moment, look deeper into it and figure out what it is that you’ve said that’s made her so happening, but you can’t, because your head is spinning once Ellie latches her plump lips against your core, latching onto your clit and sucking like her life depended on it.
You throw your head back, back arching in pleasure almost painfully. Ellie watches in awe, because you look like a work of art, the prettiest painting, the most detailed sculpture, none of it can compare to the way your chest rises and falls, the way your lips swell, or the way your eyes become low and dreamy. You’re better than any work of art in the world, and it makes her feel lucky to even be here with you.
Her tongue is lapping at your core, watching as jolts of electricity travel through your body with each flick of her tongue to your sensitive little bundle of nerves, and she feels proud of herself for giving you this pleasure, for making you feel this way. You moan out Ellie’s name loudly, your head falling down and tilting to the side as you watch her closely. You want to remember it forever, you want to take this moment and burn it into your mind so you know that it’s real, and that this actually happened.
“So…so pretty…” you moan out, finding it hard to form coherent sentences through the blur of pleasure to felt, and the cloudy feeling that came with the alcohol. You felt numb and hypersensitive all at the same time, and the sensation of that made your head spin. Ellie groans softly against you, giving you an encouraging nod as she flicks her tongue against your weeping core.
And you suddenly feel it, that tight, coiling feeling at the pit of your stomach. It makes your legs shake, it makes your hips grind agains Ellie, forcing your pussy to grind against her face, desperately seeking your orgasm, needing to feel that familiar feeling of bliss wash over you, and you suddenly can’t help but wish that this doesn’t end, that this moment lasts forever.
“Ellie…Els I…fuck….mmmph…m’close!” You announce, your back arching further as you feel it growing closer, and closer and closer and the second you’re right there at the edge….
Its gone. And you realize, you need to be careful what you wish for.
You look down, a soft whine leaving your lips as you look at Ellie below you. Her face is soaked with your arousal, pupils blown out with lust, and bottom lip tugged between her teeth. You open your mouth to complain, to whine and tell her how close you were, but a shiver runs down your spine when Ellie brings her fingers to your core, rubbing circles ever so slowly into your throbbing clit.
“Look at you…poor baby wants to cum so badly, hm?” She hums out, voice tauntingly low as she stared up at you, eyes shining as she slowly toyed with your pussy. You can’t even respond, your hips buck up into her fingers, and she’s quickly clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and bringing one of her hands down to hold your waist steady
“Ooh, not so fast…I think you need to wait a little bit longer, baby” she explained, voice so low and sweet, it made your head spin. You let out a soft huff, tugging at the sheets beneath you further as you try moving your hips again. “Ellie..that’s…it’s not fair…I’m so close..” you explain, your demeanor clearly switching to one that was needy and huffy.
Ellie chuckles softly, nodding slowly as she continues toying with your pussy so slowly, it feels like torture. “No…no it isn’t fair” she hummed out, slowing her fingers down even more, which was something you weren’t sure was even possible.
She hums softly as she looks down at your poor, weeping pussy, biting her lip softly as she continued rubbing small circles into your clit, pulling you closer towards the edge, just to rip it all away from you, all over again.
“You know what else isn’t fair?” She questioned softly, her eyes now trailing up to yours, her fingers speeding up a bit. As much as you wanted her mouth, anything was better than nothing at this point, and you barely had the mind to give her a proper response. You whined softly, arching your back as you felt it again, growing closer to the edge. Ellie smirked softly as she watches you, going even faster before she leans in and gives your pussy a long lick, which makes you nearly scream.
“How much you hurt me, baby…” she mumbles out, and you can hear that she’s pouting. Her words make your eyebrows furrow, and you look down at her, whining and moaning through the pleasure as you try to see if you’ve heard her correctly. “W-what?” You whimper out, and it causes her to chuckle softly again.
“God, you’re so fuckin cute…” she whispers softly before she nods, a soft hum leaving her lips before she continues speaking. “You hurt me so much, princess….you and that stupid fucking girl…makes me so upset seeing you together, especially when I know I’d treat you so much better” she pouted out again, watching you as you fell apart above her. You’re sure you aren’t hearing her correctly this time. You’re sure that it’s the alcohol, and the pleasure, and everything else you’re experiencing that’s making you hear things.
There’s so much going on in her head, and you can’t even focus on it because she’s clicking her tongue again, and it’s almost like she feels sorry for you, for how much of a wreck you’ve become at the hands of her, at the workings of her tongue.
“And you don’t even fucking realize it too…that’s what pisses me off the most…” she groans out, speeding up her fingers, watching as you whine and wither for her. “You never fucking have…” she mumbles out that part a bit quieter, as it she hopes you don’t here it, or as if that part isn’t for you to hear.
She smirks softly, green eyes trailing up to watch you as she hums. “I think for the at…I shouldn’t give this to you so easily, huh? Pretty girl?” She continues, and you’re shaking your head before she can even finish her sentence. Somehow, out of all the outlandish things that have passed her lips within the last few minutes, that’s the only thing you can focus on and respond to, and that makes her chuckle.
“Ahh, but you can respond to that…” she teases, humming softly as she gently pushes her pointer and index finger into you, watching as your face contorts with pleasure, and it makes her groan softly. “I can’t even imagine how good you’d look taking my cock…you’re made for it…” she groans out through gritted teeth, watching as you moan and whine while she slowly fucks her fingers in and out of you.
At this point, you’ve been denied your orgasm so many times, you’re sure she’s going to do it again. You’re practically preparing for the second she stops, egging you on further until you’re crying for her. You let out a pathetic little whine, your legs threatening to close, and keep her out, to which she pouts. “Shutting me out already? But I haven’t even made you cum yet” she taunts, watching you with a look of pity before she leans in closer to your core, her warm breath wafting against your weeping pussy.
“I know you want it…you always have, haven’t you baby?” She smirks softly, eyeing you as her fingers come to a complete stop inside of you.
And that, that is what throws you over the edge.
Because you can’t take it anymore, one of your hands goes to the back of her head, grabbing a fistful of hair and pressing her face against your core. This results in a low groan from Ellie, one of her hands squeezing your thigh the second you push her in, and her tongue working on your core immediately. She’s just as desperate as you are, tongue lapping at your cunt like a hungry dog, wet noises of squishing and squelching echoing throughout the room, bouncing off the walls and making you feel even more aroused than before.
Her fingers inside of you begin pumping once again, and you finally feel it, that warm feeling you felt earlier, yet this time it’s stronger. All of the orgasms you’d been denied had built up together to create something explosive, electrifying, you could practically feel the energy building up within your body, begging to be released.
And the second you looked down into Ellie’s eyes, seeing the way she was watching your every move, watching the way your face contorted in pleasure, the way your lips parted to let the most wonderful noises escape…
You were done for.
You came so hard, you saw white. It was like you’d died and gone to an afterlife where there was nothing but bliss, a euphoric state that left you almost feeling like you were no longer a body, but a soul. Your back arched so hard it was painful, you were sure to be sore in the morning. It was all too much, too powerful, too erotic.
When you came down from your high, all you could hear were Ellie’s praises. She called you a good girl, she called you her good girl, and she was so proud of you for how well you did, how well you took her. And all you could feel, was Ellie’s strong arms pulling you back into the bed, into her arms as she tugged the covers over your limp body, everything you felt was distant, it was hard to even compute what was real and what wasn’t.
And the last thing you felt before you fell into the most blissful sleep you’d ever experienced, was Ellie’s lips pressing the softest, sweetest kiss to yours.
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momodita · 2 months
Text
snapshots. [—chilchuck tims]
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TAGS / WARNINGS: gender neutral reader, modern au,       minor pining, background marcille/falin WC: 1,000 NOTE: divorced father of 3 save me... save me       divorced father of 3...
✗ MINORS / AGELESS / BLANK BLOGS DNI.
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“Move over.”
Chilchuck’s voice startles you. The bowl in his hands is steaming: a hearty stew made with Falin and Marcille’s collective effort—(“Senshi’s tried and true recipe!”). A thick slice of bread perches on its rim. It smells just as heavenly as it did at dinner.
“Here?” you ask, stupefied. The armchair you’ve claimed is wide; there’s easily enough space to fit a Chilchuck-sized person, but your mind jumps—unbidden—to the reason he’d been late in the first place.
“Where else?” He nudges you with his knee. “As if I’m gonna sit near that love-fest over there.”
“You’re not welcome anyways,” Marcille tuts, midway through dipping the maraschino cherry from her sundae into Falin’s mouth.
“This is my apartment!”
You concede with a laugh: it’s just your bruised heart working overtime. The moment his body settles, shoulders touching, you stop being able to taste the ice cream Laios had scooped into your bowl. Existence narrowing to that point of contact with a familiar little rush.
It’s Laios’ turn to choose tonight’s movie, much to Marcille’s dismay—(“A documentary classifies! This is a really interesting one!”)—and he scrolls to find it as Chilchuck digs into his food.
Midway through, you engage him in a thrilling mock-battle of fencing spoons. Falin dozes, lulled from the careful stroke of Marcille’s fingers through her hair. By the time the credits roll, they’re folded onto each other, soft snores drowned out by music.
“They fell asleep again,” Chilchuck drawls, chin cushioned against his hand.
“Must be crashing after all that sugar,” Laios suggests, drapes a blanket over them.
“They were pretty high energy tonight. Eager to hear about how Chilchuck’s date went, I guess,” you tease, taking up the mantle with Marcille fast asleep. “You didn’t even tell us her name.” Keeping the tone casual despite the haunting little pit in your stomach.
(It’d been a shock to hear about it: for as long as you’ve known him, Chilchuck has been eager to keep his life private—even from long-time friends. And there’d been no signs of anyone—except you and your little group—coveting his time and attention; no extra, unexplained toothbrushes, no brands you don’t recognize in his pantry, no missed get-togethers.)
“Huh?” He gives you a look, confusion twisted in his features. The TV’s light illuminates a silver hair. “I wasn’t with any girl.”
Your brow furrows. “…His name? Their name?”
Chilchuck stares. This close—where the minuscule twitches in his expression are noticeable—it’s strangely evaluating.
“You know Marcille was joking when she said it was a date, right?” Heat sears along your cheekbones; embarrassment flushing hot under his gaze—the realization of your mistake.
“Of course I knew,” you say stupidly. Chilchuck’s eyebrow quirks. “Shut up. Don’t look at me like that.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Well, then if it wasn’t a date, who were you with?”
“Senshi,” he says. “He was—we, uh,” his eyes slide off to the side, “I asked him for a favor.”
“Oh?” you hum, relief and mirth creating a warm hum behind your ribs. “Looking to get a side hustle as a cook?”
“Not even close,” he grunts, looking away.
“Should we start calling you our little master chef?” You nudge him with a grin.
“Chilchuck is already quite good at cooking,” Laios pipes up without taking his eyes off the screen. “Maybe he’ll learn to make something else after mastering ramen.”
“Hey—”
“Ramen?” you ask, head tilting. “Like, the instant kind?”
Chilchuck splutters. “No!”
“From scratch!” Laios beams. “Senshi’s said he’s been making really good progress since his first day.”
“Oh?” you grin. “Our little master chef is gonna open a ramen shop?”
“Shut up. No way. Not ever,” Chilchuck grumbles, the high curve of his ear a soft pink.
“I hope you’ll make it for us one day—I love ramen,” you say. “Very tedious, though, so I’ve never done it myself.”
His face scrunches, mouth pursing together like he wants to speak, but doesn’t. His cheeks puff with air, releasing as a long, quiet sigh.
“Oh, hey, so after ramen”—you lean a hand on the chair’s opposite arm, boxing him in with a cheeky little smile—“you should look into French onion soup. It’s probably easier than ramen but caramelizing the onions takes so long—”
“You—!” he leans back, shoulders tense and eyes wide. “Don’t go making requests before I’ve even cooked anything decent.”
“Why not? I bet it’ll be great! You’re good with your hands, so soup is probably a piece of cake for you.” You watch—with no small amount of pleasure—as Chilchuck’s face flushes with vivid color.
“Get away from me,” he mumbles, but his tone is so insincere all you do is laugh. He knocks a loose fist against the inside of your elbow. A surprised noise jumps out; you retreat back against the chair, rubbing the spot.
“Mmh?” Marcille rouses with a sleepy hum. “What’re you requestin’?”
“Chilchuck is making us ramen,” you joke, relishing the way he knocks an admonishing leg against yours. “He’s our little master chef.”
“Oh, yeah. Did Laios end up spilling the beans?” Marcille yawns. Falin stirs, eyes fluttering. “Congratulations, you two.”
Chilchuck goes stiff beside you. “What do you mean?” you ask.
Marcille pauses, head tilting with a drowsy look of confusion. “Huh? Didn’t you ask why he’s learning to make it?” she asks. Falin tugs her sleeve.
You blink. “No. Should I have?” Marcille doesn’t respond right away, head bent to put an ear by Falin’s mouth, expression pinched as they whisper. Then, with a sigh, she reaches up to stretch.
“No. Never mind. Forget I said anything.” Laios is quick to grab her attention.
“Hey, so are you actually opening a ramen shop?” you whisper to Chilchuck.
“You’re such an airhead,” he grunts against his palm.
“I’m great,” you reply. His eyes meet yours, holding your gaze. When next he speaks, his voice is soft—acquiescing easily to your jest.
“Guess you are.”
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Note
Would you mind writing a Fic about daughter of Selene and son of Poseidon, Percy? And their Relationship is sort off based off how the moon affects the ocean tides?
⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson x daughter of selene! reader hcs
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content: percy jackson x daughter of selene! reader hcs warning: language as per usual author's note: i made it hcs bc i didn't feel like i had enough plot to make a fic and a blurb wouldn't do this fun prompt justice so this is what we get folks!!!
bro is quite literally drawn to you
can't stay away
you just keep pulling him in
if you have a good day, he has a good day
if you have a bad day, he has a bad day
you affect this dude in ways you don’t even know
what can he say, he's an empath
just for you tho
listens to 'moon song' by phoebe bridgers and crys bc he thinks of you
oh, and 'moon river' by frank ocean
oh and basically any other song that mentions the moon
will def send you constants texts like,
'you look just like your momma. beautiful.'
this is followed by the most beautiful picture of the moon you've ever seen
this bitch got you in yo feels
also sally is adopting you without a doubt
you are now her precious moon child, no arguing or stopping it now
you both get into some crazy shit at night
like, no, officer, we did not break into sea world and free the sharks, sir, why would we do that???
actively wearing sea world shirts that still have the tags on
sally and paul laughed the whole time bailing you guys out of jail
also, i like to imagine you're more active at night, so that makes you a sleepy girl during the day and percy is just your walking pillow
you can take a nap nearly anywhere and that includes percy's shoulder as he's trying to pay attention to whatever will is trying to teach them about healing but he can't focus with your breath puffing out against his neck
and then even when the class is over, he refuses to move and wake you up
would actually rather die than wake you up
also i like to image that you glow at night similarly to apollo kids but in silver tones
which is why your name in percy's phone is glowstick
he finds it amusing
you, not so much
also percy has grown very fond of night swims since getting with you
just you and him, floating somewhere in the lake and letting the only light being from the moon
he finds it calming and so do you
this, upon a joking dare, would turn into skinny dipping one night but thats a story for another day fr
let's just say you two also accidently became streakers that night too
chiron was not happy
the hermes cabin thought it was very amusing, seeing as they were the ones who stole your clothes in the first place.
the night swims ended after that, in fear of another streaking incident
everytime percy's back home for school, he fr goes out on the balcony and plays 'talking to the moon' by bruno mars (cheesy mfer)
and cries bc he misses you
and i just know your mommas laughing at him from her spot at the moon
the boy who's lovesick for her baby girl
the boy who reminds her of his father's waves
drawn in and away but always back in again
855 notes · View notes
forjongseong · 7 months
Text
pine-fresh // jay (ENHYPEN)
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pairing: slytherin!jay x gryffindor!fem!reader
genre: hogwarts!au, somewhat rivals to lovers, smut (minors dni)
warning: profanity, a lot of making out, fingering // word count: ~4k
summary: a dash of bickering and a whole lot of miscommunication in Potions class landed you and Slytherin's Park Jongseong in detention. did you ask for it? no. did you regret it? also, no.
author's note: at last, the Slytherin!Jay of my imagination has now, sort of, come to life...
ever since I came across that edit you see on the header, I've thought about him A LOT. now that his hair is actually silver, I have thought about him MORE. especially when @jaylaxies made this, which I thought about ALSO a lot... let's just say that Slytherin!Jay has been occupying my mind a lot more than I expected.
my knowledge on the HP universe is quite limited, so please excuse if some scenes don't seem too believable (like Snape somewhat being less strict here, or detention being scrubbing the bathroom). the title of this fic refers to the password that is needed to enter the Prefects' bathroom.
now, I know I say when I post oneshots I intend for them to be standalone fics, meaning that I most likely won't write a part two. but for this one??? if a lot of you like it, and a lot of you ask for it, I might be open to writing a sequel (once I conduct a lengthy research on Hogwarts grounds)
anyway, I hope you enjoy this little treat! I'm trying to shake off my writer's block, so please expect secretary!Jay to return soon.
taglist: @jaylaxies @excusememissiloveyou @thots4hee @end-hyphen @nyanggk @maggstar @bucketofhiros @shinkenprincess-oh @mydarlingjay @mochimchimo @jongseonglogy @strawberrification12 @xiaoderrrr
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As your House’s Prefect and one of the smartest students at school, you thought it would be impossible to dislike a class. Getting good grades in almost every subject seemed to prove that you liked learning everything, but by God, you hated Potions. Other than the fact that the lessons took place in a literal dungeon, which made it colder than any of the classrooms above, you always had to deal with the unpleasant smell of whatever was brewing in the room. Add the inconvenient detail that half of the class consisted of Slytherin students, which was more than you could tolerate.
You did not know when it started, maybe since the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor or when you witnessed one of your classmates getting teased by a Slytherin, but you had a strong aversion to anything related to that house. It became so bad to the point that whenever you got paired with a Slytherin for an assignment, all you wanted to do was to get the job done quickly for the both of you so you could leave the class as soon as possible.
“Miss L/N,” called Professor Snape. Your head snapped up and you locked eyes with him, somehow convincing him that you had been listening to all his instructions despite staring into the empty vials on your table. “Today you’ll be working with Park Jongseong.”
You nodded softly and once Snape turned his head towards another student, you made an audible groan and leaned back on your chair.
“You don’t sound so happy to be paired with me.”
Jay took the now unoccupied seat beside you and sat with a force that made his robe flutter. The flash of green caught your eye, and you hesitantly pulled your books to your side, making room for his on the table.
“I’ll handle the mixing,” you replied, completely unrelated to his remark.
Jay frowned before letting out a soft chuckle. “Wow, I guess you really aren’t in the mood today.”
You turned your head only slightly enough to shoot daggers at him with your eyes, and his response was just a huff to his face, messing up the silver bangs on his forehead. The sound of Professor Snape’s voice caught your attention, so you straightened up and listened intently, but also noticed how Jay was mimicking you. Once you were all instructed to begin, Jay grabbed his quill and started making notes for the recipe.
For the first couple of minutes, the process went well. You were mixing and adding stuff according to Jay’s dictation. However, after he misread the measurements for a certain ingredient, causing your brew to bubble uncontrollably, you began scolding him and blaming him for everything.
“What’s distracting you? How could you have misread that?” You half-shouted, a handkerchief in your hand as you attempted to clean up your surroundings.
“Maybe if you weren’t shaking so much when you’re holding the vials then I could have paid more attention,” Jay retorted, snatching a vial from your other hand to prevent more spills. “We should switch. You tell me what to do and I’ll redo everything.”
“That will take us even longer, and everyone else is already halfway done,” you complained as you looked around the class. You saw Professor Snape eyeing your table.
“Do you have another solution?” Jay asked, staring back at you.
You reluctantly agreed to switch tasks, but it turned out that Jay was worse than you. He kept spilling liquid, pouring more than needed, and overall causing more chaos than when he was just giving you instructions. Your grunts and groans were starting to gain the attention of the whole classroom, and by the time you were almost done, the bell rang.
The sound of your quill hitting your book was silenced by the footsteps of the other students exiting the classroom. They had finished their potions, and your table was literally the only one in the room that was still messy, with a mixture that looked too suspicious to be called a potion.
“I have been patient enough to let you two bicker the whole time, but for you to not finish making your potions,” Professor Snape said as he walked back to his desk, his cape almost floating behind him.
“Great, he’s gonna put us in detention,” you muttered to yourself.
“That is correct, Miss L/N,” Professor Snape continued. “Once you’re both done cleaning up your table, meet me in my office.”
The frown you wore on your face was so bad that anybody who saw you could easily tell that you were pissed, but between gathering the books and papers and wiping off spills with a cloth, you could have sworn you saw Jay smirking to himself.
---
As you placed a bucket of water in the middle of the Prefects’ bathroom, you sighed at the exhaustion that you felt despite not having even started your detention. You and Jay were both assigned to clean up the bathroom, which, despite only being restricted to use by the school Prefects, Head Boys, Head Girls, and Quidditch captains, was in an alarmingly grimy state.
You purposefully steered away from the side of the room with the toilet stalls and stood by the large, swimming pool-like tub sunken into the ground with bath taps surrounding it. The tub was drained, and you much preferred scrubbing it to cleaning all the toilets.
Jay was standing by the bath supplies on one side of the pool, staring at the different kinds of soap, bath oils, bath salts, shampoo, and conditioner. It took a while for him to realize you were glaring at him, basically waiting for him to start working already.
“Damn, it would be worth becoming a Prefect just to be able to use this bathroom,” Jay muttered, placing a small bottle of bath oil back in its place. “You must take baths all the time.”
You snorted, audible enough to make it echo throughout the whole room. “I don’t have time for baths.”
“Really? What a shame,” Jay sighed, rolling up his sleeves. “How long do you think it would take for us to finish?”
“If you keep using your mouth instead of your hands, probably a lot longer than I expect,” you replied without a pause, sounding annoyed.
Your snarky remarks did not bother Jay at all. In fact, it amused him, and the way he was laughing softly was not helping at all. He walked over to the stalls and finally began to work only minutes after you started.
“Today is really not your day, huh?” Jay’s voice echoed behind the stalls.
“Thanks to you, it’s not,” you answered, polishing one of the hundred golden bath taps that surrounded the tub.
“You know,” Jay started, only to pause to flush the toilet so he wouldn’t have to compete with the sound. “I have a feeling that you don’t like me.”
You rolled your eyes and moved your bucket to polish the other bath taps. Jay cleared his throat as he waited for your reply.
“Is it because I’m a Slytherin?” He asked. “I mean, it’s kinda unfair that just because I’m in this House, you automatically hate me—”
“I don’t hate you,” you finally responded. “Hate is a strong word.”
“Alright then,” Jay walked out of one stall and looked in your direction before entering the next stall. “So, what’s the story?”
You let out a heavy sigh and wrung out the cloth you were holding. It was a long story, you thought to yourself. You came from a family of Slytherins—both your parents and your older brother were—but since you were old enough to understand and remember things, you had always been the odd one out in your family. They would excel academically and go on to achieve things you never even dreamed of. Your interests were always different, and what got you far at school was thanks to your personality and smart work.
It was still a vivid memory to you, the moment you sat down and let the Sorting Hat analyze you. You thought you would hear a confident ‘Slytherin!’ from the Hat, but after a couple of seconds of deciding, it placed you in Gryffindor. Switching houses was never a thing, so you did what you could and made good friends, studied hard enough to make the professors notice you, and eventually, you earned the title of Prefect as you entered the fifth year.
Despite that, throughout the years in Hogwarts, you kept hearing and witnessing stories about Slytherins, how they always happen to achieve so much but at the same time are notoriously problematic. The house you once dreamed of being a part of quickly became one that you were relieved to be excluded from, but somehow, the longing remains.
Around your third year in Hogwarts, you began hearing chatter about Park Jongseong. He became popular, it seemed, after he was assigned to be the Keeper of Slytherin’s Quidditch team, and also after he had an insane glow-up. You then noticed that he was the quiet nerd who used to bury his nose in whatever book he was reading in a dark corner in the library, but since then, he had ditched his glasses and styled his luscious silver locks in a way that—
“Y/N, are you okay?”
Jay’s voice woke you up from your extensive daydreaming, and it made you realize you were polishing one bath tap for way too long.
“How long were you polishing that tap?” Jay asked, tilting his chin towards your hand.
His question spooked you, and you were beginning to think he might have heard your thoughts. You cleared your throat before moving to the next tap. “Not long, why?”
“Because I’m done with all the toilet stalls, and I noticed you haven’t moved an inch.”
Well, that’s embarrassing, you thought. How long exactly did you zone out for?
“Should I start cleaning the pool’s floor then?” He asked, fixing his folded sleeves before squatting down and then jumping into the empty pool.
“Sure,” you said, immediately picking up your pace and trying your best not to steal any more glances in his direction.
“Listen,” Jay began, both his hands firmly holding a mop. “You got really silent after I asked a question, so I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable. We can continue to work in silence if that’s what you prefer.”
You smiled as you moved on to the next tap. “It’s fine. I was just tired.”
You refocused on your own task, determined to leave the bathroom spotless, but after a moment, you noticed Jay moving oddly around the pool floor, dragging his mop in a way that was not normal. When you lifted your head to look at him, you saw that he was singing, no, lip-syncing a song and using the mop as a mic stand, completely immersed in his imagination but being considerate not to bother you with noise.
At this sight, you burst out laughing. Jay stood up straight and turned his heel to face you, looking surprised.
“Please,” you said after you contained yourself, “do continue.”
“Miss Prefect,” Jay sighed, “this bathroom is way too huge for only two of us to clean. Do you think we can sneak out and get our wands from Snape’s office?”
You shook your head. “The door is locked with a password.”
“But you’re Miss Prefect,” Jay said, matter-of-factly. “Don’t you know the password?”
“He literally changed it after leaving us here with these cleaning supplies, Jay. I don’t know the new password.”
Jay paused and for a moment you thought he was figuring out a way to escape, when in reality, his stomach just did a backflip from the way his name rolled off your tongue.
“So, what you’re saying is there is literally no way to get out of this bathroom unless we finish cleaning it?” Jay asked.
“That is the point of detention, yes,” you replied, shrugging.
Jay groaned and turned around, pushing his mop and reluctantly continuing to clean the pool floor. You were almost halfway done with polishing all the bath taps, and you sighed as you looked at all the mirrors waiting to be scrubbed clean too.
After a while, Jay finished scrubbing the floors, and you began to wonder if you should have taken his work instead since the bath taps seemed like a never-ending task to complete. He loosened the tie around his neck and undid the first few buttons on his shirt, making you quickly look away.
“Should I help you with the bath taps or start doing the mirrors?” Jay walked over to your side before pushing himself up the edge and then standing up, towering over you.
“Mirrors, please,” you answered, this time tilting your chin to point at the direction of the sinks.
“Really? Because you seem like you’re taking your sweet time polishing all those taps,” Jay said, tilting his head to one side.
You looked up at him and he had this teasing, lop-sided smirk. Meanwhile, the unintentional doe eyes you were giving him made him almost choke on his own saliva.
“Just do the mirrors, Jay.”
You saw him smile the second you finished your sentence, and when he turned his back to you, it somehow looked like his shoulders were happy. He stood in front of the sink and did a quick count on the number of mirrors he had to clean. You saw him start from the far left, where one of the mirrors was cracked on the edge.
“Be careful with that one. Ravenclaw’s Head Girl almost—”
“Fuck!”
You heard Jay groan as he stumbled a few steps back, wincing in pain and shaking his left hand.
“Jay,” you sighed, standing up and throwing the cloth you were holding to the floor. “I didn’t even finish my sentence.”
You walked up to him and stood before him with your hand out. He looked at you questionably before lifting his left hand for you to take a look.
“Is it bad?” He asked, slightly looking away. “I don’t like the sight of blood.”
“That explains a lot,” you muttered, placing your hand carefully over his. “Oh, my God.”
“What? What is it?” Jay asked, his right hand shaking in panic.
“Your fingers are so thick and stubby, like cocktail sausages.”
Jay snorted before pulling his hand away and you giggled.
“It’s just a scratch,” you said in an attempt to calm him down. “You can carry on.”
“Well, do you have something I can use to treat it?” Jay asked.
You were already sitting by the edge of the pool to continue with your polishing. “Do I look like a walking first aid kit to you? Just spit on it and move on.”
Jay looked at you, unsure of your advice. He then turned around and decided to wash his hands with soap. The suds obviously stung, so he was flinching and wincing quietly, but he could see you giggling silently from your reflection in the mirror in front of him.
“Do you really mean it?” Jay spoke, looking at you through the mirror.
“Mean what?”
“That I have stubby fingers,” Jay clarified.
You were unsure what to make of his tone. He sounded curious but also hurt, or maybe…
“So what if you do?” You asked back, not paying attention to him.
The strands of your hair were becoming loose and covering your eyes, and you were dying to fix the scrunchie on your ponytail, but both your hands were wet and occupied with polishing. You kept huffing and puffing and even attempting to move your hair using the movements of your shoulders until Jay sneaked up behind you and tapped you on your arm.
“Here, allow me,” Jay said calmly, tugging on your scrunchie.
You sat up straight and let him pull your scrunchie off, letting your hair cascade to your back. He began brushing your hair with his fingers before gently bunching it into a ponytail. He skillfully tied your hair up into a bun that was less messy than before. You were about to thank him, but he moved from behind you and jumped back into the empty pool, standing in front of you and tucking the loose strands of hair behind both your ears.
His fingers brushed against your ear, and for a moment, you were lost in his eyes. The next thing you felt was his hand behind your neck, pulling you closer as he stood in between your legs, his lips crashing against yours. You sighed as you let yourself be enveloped in his warmth—his tongue tugging yours, his lips devouring yours, his palms pushing against your back, and his breath mixing up with yours.
You felt his hand travel lower down your back, settling on your ass before he pushed you closer to him, earning a soft yelp from between your lips. His mouth detached from yours only to give you a sly smirk before he dove back into you. Your hands rested comfortably on his shoulders as you gave into his every move, and when you felt one of his hands grazing the exposed skin of your thigh from the gap between your skirt and your knee-high socks, you gasped.
“Wanna see what these fingers can do?” Jay asked, speaking right against your lips.
Your eyes searched for his before you nodded a little too eagerly. He chuckled before sliding his hand between your legs and under your skirt. His fingers easily found their place on your clothed cunt, and despite his gentle moves, you could not hold in your moans.
“Jay,” you whimpered, hands bunching up his shirt.
“Oh, I like it when you say my name like that,” he teased, leaving a wet peck on your chin. “Can you say it again?”
He pressed his thumb on your clit before sliding it down your folds, and he could already tell that you were soaked. You were biting your lip, and he chuckled, bringing the same hand that was caressing you up and towards your chin.
“Come on, now,” Jay cooed. “Prefects are usually good students. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”
His thumb slid upon your bottom lip, and you could almost sniff the scent of your own arousal. You were trembling at this point, desperate to feel more of him, so all you could give as a response was a nod.
“Say my name.”
“Jay—”
Your voice was muffled as he slid in a finger when you opened your mouth. You instinctively sucked on it before he entered another one, and then he hurriedly placed his hand back between your legs, pushing your panties to the side before easily sliding those two fingers inside of you.
“Jay!” You moaned loudly, spreading your legs wider so he could do whatever he wanted to do to you comfortably. Your fingers reached for the back of his head, pulling on his silver locks before you pushed his head to your neck. He began licking the soft skin under your chin before placing wet kisses down your neck. With one hand, you unbuttoned your top and pulled your collar open, giving him more access to your skin. He sucked on your collarbone softly and, at the same time, curled his fingers inside of you.
You repeatedly moaned into his ear, and at some point, you thought you sounded way too pathetic, but the way Jay was thrusting his fingers in and out of you and the way the squelching sound was echoing throughout the whole bathroom made you believe that the sounds you were making were actually quite tame.
“Jay,” you sighed. “Oh, my God.”
Jay lifted his head from your neck and flashed you a proud smirk before leaning in to kiss you again. You whined at the contact, and as your hands found his face, you began to caress him, pull him, and do whatever was necessary to send the message that you wanted him bad.
You felt the increasing pace of his fingers between your legs, and you began to feel the ache in your ass for sitting on the edge of the pool for too long. Jay pressed his thumb on your clit, and you threw your head back in pleasure, grabbing onto his biceps for support. When your moans started to sound higher and more in sync with the movements of his fingers, Jay leaned in and pressed his cheek onto yours before speaking right into your ear.
“Cum for me, will you?”
The deep tone and gentle vibration of his voice sent shivers down your spine, and with that, you finally reached your high. Your legs were shaking, and to soothe you, Jay began kissing your cheek softly. He kept kissing you and moving towards your lips, giving you a long peck before moving down to your chin and neck. He kissed the parts of your skin that were beginning to turn purple, and once he heard your leveled breathing, he pulled away to take a good look at you.
“Good girl,” he said right to your face.
You playfully, and very gently, slapped his face. He let out a wholehearted chuckle before pulling his hand from between your legs. Just seconds later, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching the bathroom door. Your eyes widened, and Jay quickly registered the situation. He fixed your collar for you to button up before he sprinted back to the mirror he was supposed to be polishing while you frantically searched for the abandoned cloth that you had been using the whole time.
“Why am I not surprised that you haven’t finished cleaning the bathroom?” Professor Snape stated after scanning the area. “It’s almost curfew, so wrap up and continue cleaning tomorrow. I’ll consider your detention done once this place is spotless.”
You stood up and observed as Professor Snape reached into the pocket in his robe and took out your wands. After he handed them over to you and Jay, he turned around without further question and left the bathroom. Jay looked at you, and you sighed in relief, almost collapsing to the floor because of your weak knees, if not for Jay holding you up by your elbows.
“That was too damn close,” you commented, standing uncomfortably since your panties were not fixed the right way.
“I’d say it was exciting,” Jay said, leaning into you and sniffing your neck.
“Jay, stop it,” you said, placing your palm firmly on his chest.
“That’s not what you wanted me to do when I had these stubby fingers inside you,” he teased, raising his hand and wriggling his fingers in front of your face.
You smacked his hand away, and he cackled, almost making the room shake from the echo.
“We still need to come back tomorrow and whose fault is that?” You asked, your back turned to him as you were tidying up the supplies.
“Fault?” Jay tilted his head. “No, favor. You’re missing the point. We get to come back here tomorrow.”
You stood up straight before turning to face Jay. He boldly took a couple of steps towards you, closing the distance and pulling you by your waist to press your body against his.
“Are you honestly telling me you’re not looking forward to it?”
With Jay’s arm firmly around your waist, the heat of his body against yours, his eyes boring into yours, and his silver hair messy from the way you were pulling on it earlier, there was no way you could lie to his face.
“Okay, I am looking forward to it,” you said after gaining enough courage. “Maybe instead of your stubby fingers, you can show me something else.”
Jay’s eyes twinkled at your daring tone, and you both chuckled before letting each other go, nagging at him as he collected your supplies while shamelessly ogling your body.
-END-
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© forjongseong 2023, all rights reserved dividers by @cafekitsune
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yuyu1024 · 4 months
Text
Prisoner
Pairings: Yoongi × y/n
Genre/tags: Arranged marriage
Warning: 🔞🔞 smut, mention of food/eating, cursing, sensual touching, unprotected sex, making out, needy/clingy, Pet name, lies, kinks, Smoking [lmk if i miss anything]
Words: 3.0k
Disclaimer:
- this story is just made up
- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊
Note: repost. Likes and reblogs are much appreciated 🫶🏻
Check pinned post for more
***
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The sound of the wedding bells and the people cheering for your union are still ringing in your ears. You could also still envision your friends and families' warmest smiles and tearful hugs as they congratulate you. Everyone is so happy. They kept on saying that your wedding is the most magical and happiest they've ever seen.
Yes. Your wedding is the grand. The whole castle like church is filled with the whitest flowers that gives an illusion of the place is floating in clouds. You could also see shiniest silvers and krystals all over the place. It felt unreal.
You requested for a simple wedding but you are given more than that and you love it.
The wedding is also filled with people you both love and cherish. So you feel comfortable and loved all through out the ceremony and the party afterwards.
Yes. The wedding is amazing.
Yes. The wedding is to die for.
Yes. The wedding is like a fantasy.
It's because it is... it is a fantasy and no where near reality.
It is only for show to make people believe that you and the man you married is real.
Little did everyone know, your marriage is just arranged. You were just handpicked by the groom because he had no other option. He didn't like the women his parents are suggesting. So he decided to himself to pick someone from the ground and carry to his world. A world filled with darkness and resentment. A very, very, very cold world.
"Miss..." a voice echoes waking you up from your daydream
You slowly open your eyes to see the barely lit room that you are still in. You get up from leaning onto the edge of the bathtub and see your personal maid near the door. Her head lowered not making eye contact with you. She's holding your towel and bathrobe.
"I'm sorry, Miss. But Master asked for dinner to be served soon...he's on his way home."
You look down at your hands peeking from the warm milky water and then pick up the rose petals floating on it. "He's early today..." you mumble quietly
"I heard that the meeting with his father, Mr. Min finished early..."
"I wonder why..." you got up from the bath. She immidiately rush towards you, handing you the towel and bathrobe to use.
"Mr. Min told Master to go home early... because of you Miss..."
"Ah... really..." there is no hint of excitement in your voice. "You can leave now and help them prepare... I'll get ready myself..." you tell the maid, who is still not having any eye contact with you.
You don't sound happy nor sad. Actually, you do sound like a robot with no feelings when you talk.
You were not like this before. Yes you are a quiet person, an introvert and reserved but never like this. You changed quite a lot after getting married. It's not by choice. You just have to adapt with your surroundings.
Living in a big ass mansion with more than fifty staffs and bodyguards but no one to talk to. You have no one to spend your time but yourself. Your world became, quiet.
Yes you do have a husband. You married him. But the man is never home most of the time. And when he is, he does not even make conversations with you unless it's related to his parents; asking you to do this and that. To be present here and there. Telling you what to say and not to talk about. Basically, he only talks to you when its about your deal. Yes, deal.
Funny isn't? You married bound by a contract but that's it. Just by contract. No love is involved.
You know this since the beginning. You signed the marriage certificate plus the contract. You are aware. But you never thought that this will be the kind of life you will have. Alone. But what choice do you have? He offered your parents a huge amount of money for your hands. A money that could let them live a good life even when they retire early. That's how big it is.
And you agreed to it, not because of the money, but because you thought; that maybe, just maybe this is the universe's doing. Him and you meeting under this circumstances but then in the end, getting to know each other and that Maybe...... maybe learn to love each other. But you're wrong. You and Yoongi have been married for more than a year now and its already had taken a toll on you emotionally and physically.
"Miss... Master is just a few minutes away..."
You pause brushing your hair, staring at yourself through the full body mirror. You are wearing the plain black, fitted halter dress that you received as a gift from him. You like this dress because it emphasizes your figure and shows off a little skin because of the slit. He gifted you this dress during your honeymoon. It's probably the cheapest clothing you have in your closet but for you this is the most valuable.
"Do you want me to fix your hair, Miss?"
You put down your hair brush. "No thank you."
Then you sit down and start to put on your shoes. But instead of heels, you put your white canvas shoes.
"Ahm, no heels today, Miss?" She sounds a bit concern
"No." You stand up to look at yourself one last time before going. "My feet hurts so I'll wear something comfy for now..."
"I understand." She hurriedly puts down the heels she had on hand and runs after me.
It is true that your feet is hurting. You've been wearing heels everyday when you go to work. 'Work' meaning is socializing with your husband's family friends and circle. You represent him for charities and parties he can't and won't attend. It's not everyday but these past few weeks, you've been busy. You were away too most of the days of the week. That's why you also barely saw your husband. He's been away for a week and when he came back you got busy too. And tonight, this is the first time you'll be eating dinner with him.
"Tell him to reschedule... I won't be available tomorrow. I have other plans."
You hear him talking to the phone when you enter the dinning room. He's so focused that he didn't even bat an eye when you sit down across him.
"What do you prefer, Miss?" The male servant asks. "We have tender lamb chops braised in wine. Served with pea puree and then wild sea bass with sautéed smoked bacon, red chicory, runner beans and red wine sauce."
"The latter, please..." You try to give a smile to show appreciation but then you halt as you hear your husband slam his phone on the table. It starlted you a bit.
And also, up to now he still hasn't dared to look at you. He just went on to eating his lamb after his phone call.
You want to watch him eat or even glance at him every now and then, just so you could update his image from your memory. You just want to see him, Even just a tiny bit silhouette of his face behind the boquet of flowers between the two of you.
'Fuck.' You curse in your mind.
You always ask yourself why do you even bother wanting to see him or make conversation with him when you know you don't mean anything to him. For him, you are just one of his staff. The only difference is that he talks to about life when he wants to because its part of your business with him. And to add to that, you're only his 'woman' when he needs to release stress. Meaning you two have sex when he needs it. There is no date or time. When he calls you or he comes to your room unannounced, that's it. Saying no is not an option.
But come to think of it, the last time you two had sex was quite a long time ago. It's been months.
'Does this mean... even in sex... he's not satisfied with me? Did he looked for a different woman to do it with?' You talk to yourself
"Leave us." He orders to the servants.
You didn't dare to glance up. You just kept yourself occupied by poking the fish on your plate.
"Your hair got longer..." he says making you pause
Your eyes goes up and see him looking straight at you."Ah... yes..." You answer before looking back down.
"Why ask for the fish if you're not going to eat it?"
You raise your head up again, "hmm?"
He tosses his one up like it's water. "Someone reported to me that you've been eating less lately."
"My appetite is fine... I'm just...off a bit..."
You put down your fork and try to think before you speak again. You can tell him you're tired because how can you be? You have all the assistant you need and more. Plus you are living a lavish life. You could ask for a massage, a facial or swim in the pool whenever you want. You have everything. Except him.
That. You can't mention. You can't dare ask for his attention. He'll get mad. You know he will. He said it in the very beginning of this relationship. That 'You are just his wife in papers. And never expect something more from him.'
"I'll be fine..."
You look straight back at him. You can finally see him clearly. He slightly moved to the side, giving you an amazing view of his face. He's still look as beautiful as you remember. His long hair, sharp eyes, pinkish lips and the scar.
"How's the auction?" He pulls out a cigarette from the pack he have on the table and lights it off. "You bought a vintage jewelry?"
"I did."
"How much is it?" He puffs smoke. His eyes are still fixated to you.
"It's a bit expensive... I'm sorry." You look down at your knotted fingers. "I got it for 1.5M."
"Reasonable."
"I tried to intimidate the other wives... but it didn't work..."
"You need to work on that."
"I will."
"But don't worry about the money... it's going to a good cause..." He stands up and puts off his cigarette on his used plate. "My mother liked the the jewelry set. She said, thank you."
Relief fills your heart and made you relax a bit. You are thankful that his mother liked the one you picked.
It's the only one you bought in the auction. The event is for charity and Yoongi gave you the go signal to throw money like dimes. He said you can buy anything you want.
You liked a lot of things there. Everything is grand, beautiful, meaningful and unique. But none of them bring joy to you. You don't need them so your heart can't afford to splurge.
"I'll go and get ready for bed..." he says as he stand by the window, looking outside.
"Ah... okay..." you look down at your plate and pick up your fork, to continue eating.
"When you finish..." he starts to walk towards the door, "Come to my room."
"Hmm?" You blink, confused. "Your... room?"
He stops just as he got outside the door and adds before totally closing the door "Ask the maid to braid your hair..."
'Braid your hair'. That means he wants to have sex.
"Sure..." you answer in a whisper though he's already not in the room.
***
You are finally walking in the hallway, on the way to his room. Barefoot and naked. Almost naked.
It has been a routine of you to braid your long hair and then just wear a silk robe over to cover your body. He likes it this way. He have particular things he likes and you follow them.
It's almost 9pm. All the staffs are now in their houses. Yoongi asked them to leave earlier so no one could hear and disturb us.
You took a deep breathe before you get ready to knock on his door. But then to your surprise the double door swings open and you see him, in his black jogger pants and a sheer robe over his naked body. "What took you so long?" His brows are furrowed.
"Sorry..." you lower your gaze from his beautiful face to his toned body.
"Get in." He orders, turning his back on you.
You slowly enter the forbiden room. It's like how you imagine it to be; spacious, dark and earth tone colors everywhere. But the things you've never imagined seeing in there are towers of books and comics on the floor. Then there is a gaming area too.
"Do you play?" He asks as he sits down at the corner of his massive bed.
You shake your head, "No... I'm sorry."
He's smoking again. "Come here." He orders as he puff the smoke in betwern his lips. You move closer to him, cautiously. "Why do you look nervous? It's not like it's our first time."
You are now standing in between his legs. "Sorry..."
He rolls his eyes slightly as he puts his cigarette onto the ashtray. "Why do you keep on apologizing?"
"I..." you pause and wait for him to look back at you. "I don't know."
He snorts, "whatever."
He takes off his robe and throws it somewhere behind you. You were about to do the same as his but he stops your hand from untying your robe.
"Are you on birth control?"
You shake your head. "No... we... I mean... you use condom..."
He didn't say anything after that. He just continued; picks up your braided hair thats lying on your chest and pushes it away. Your breathing picks up as you could feel and see him gazing at you. You even felt your body jerk a little when his finger tip brushed over your hard nipple. The sensation is on max. You needed him to touch you. You missed him touching you.
Yes, this relationship may not be real for him but to you, it's something. Plus, we all have our needs. And when it comes to sex, he delivers. More than you can imagine. And you like playing along with his needs.
He pulls the string keeping your robe on you and just watch it fall off your skin like feather.
You feel your cheeks heat up. You are exposed. He can see that you are already turned on. Your breast giving it all away.
"Come closer..." he orders and you follow.
His hands slides over your hips then goes up to your torso, for him to hold on to you. Hug you. He begins to suck one of your boobs like a baby. His eyes are fully close and his grasping onto your skin like he had been so hungry for so long. He's really enjoying it.
You as well.
"Ahh..." you exhale as you throw your head back. His tongue doing all the works and tickling your insides by just playing at your tip.
After a few more seconds, he stops and looks up at you. And you looking down at him.
"You're so beautiful..." you whisper to him as you run your fingertips over the scar on his face.
You lower your head to meet his lips. He welcomed your kiss like it was meant to be there five minute ago overdue. He is into it more than usual.
He finally gets naked like you. His length is hard and up. It's already leaking and looked very inviting for you to sit on. But you're too shy to make the first move.
You did try to sit on his lap though, legs spread out and core is so wet and ready; just a few inches away for his throbbing length. Then his hand goes in between and starts to rub you in the most sensual way possible.
"Holy shit!" You gasps breaking off from the kiss for a second just to take it all in.
A smug on his face can be seen catching you off guard. He had never reacted to you reacting to his touches like this before.
Your hips begin to rock just to feel his fingers on you.
"Y/n..." You look at him after hearing him say your name. "No condom today."
"O-okay..."
"Make me feel good." He says softly but sturn, pulling you close to his length.
The tip touching your opening already made you roll your eyes. He's so warm and big.
"F-fuck!" You cry as he eases himself into you. "Holy shit! Ugh!"
You start to move slowly, feeling it all in you, finding the pace and ryth. you think you could do all night but at the same time make him satisfied.
"You got tighter." He grunts as you go up and down on him while holding on to his shoulder for balance support.
"Holy fuck!" Your eyes starts to get filled with tears. You found your spot and his length is hitting it perfectly. "Fuck!"
You watch him close his eyes and his face showing how good you're making him feel. His broes is furrowed and his mouth open and hissing tiny breathes with you.
You can't believe it. Someone like you who was inexperience with sex, is now married and making your man look so damn sexy moaning.
"I'm gonna come." He hugs you tigh and begins to kiss you again. "I want to come in you." He opens his eyes and meets yours.
"Fucking come in me." You say
He then carries you as he stands up, changing your positions. Now you're the one on the bed and he's on top of you.
"I will rip you apart." He snarls.
Every fucking thrust is mean and yet satisfying. You feel like your insides shuffled from every hit. But it's not pain. It's heaven.
"Fuck!" He hisses as he climaxes with you.
The warmth inside you feels like a warm blanket during winter. It's felt relaxing.
He is breathing heavily, your hands are intertwined and his still on top and inside of you.
"Yoongi..." you say breathlessly as you admire him over you.
He moves in for a kiss. A soft gentle kiss. "Stay with me tonight..."
*****
Part 2
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Text
How they are Handling your Disappearance. Hello all, get ready for some more Nightbringer Angst! This is a little drabble (bullet point style) of how I think the "Present Day Demon Brothers" are handling your sudden disappearance. Honestly I hate thinking too deeply about NB, it brings me to tears. I can't even imagine the pain and anxiety the brothers are feeling without knowing where their beloved human went and why. Anyways, grab your tissues and I hope you enjoy! Feedback and reblogs are super appreciated!
Taglist: @delphi-dreamin @bite-sized-devil @sassykattery @amberrskiies @obey-me-posts @a-hidden-gem @otomefoxystar @siofrantic
Part 2 : Side Characters
Part 3: MC Returns
Rose divider by @/firefly-graphics
Fill out my form if you'd like to be tagged in my work!
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They’ll always remember the exact day and time you disappeared. It was their day off from RAD, and you had been in the Devildom since Solomon had brought you by for some training sessions. You practically begged the sorcerer to allow you to visit the House of Lamentation, and Solomon happily obliged. You really didn't have to convince him too much, though. The brothers were so happy and surprised to see you again so soon, and they had planned on taking you out for dinner that evening. Except you never showed. They spent hours searching for you. Those hours easily turned into days. Then the days turned into weeks. There was no trace of you left behind. Where did you go?
💙Lucifer💙
He’s terrified. He doesn’t know why or how you disappeared, but he feels responsible.
He spends every waking moment looking for signs of you. Trying to piece together what or who took you from him.
Knows he has to be strong for the rest of their brothers.
But when he can no longer feel your bond with you through the pact, he feels the unbearable weight of despair crack through his usual stoic demeanor. 
He cries. He hasn’t cried like this since their fall.
Lucifer hardly sleeps. His brothers notice the bags under his eyes. How he no longer cares what he looks like in front of them. 
He becomes distant again, shutting himself in his room or study. 
If you thought his hatred for Solomon was strong before, it’s infinitely worse now. 
He doesn’t know who else to blame, so the silver haired sorcerer becomes his reasoning for your disappearance. 
The eldest demon has his hands around Solomon’s throat, Mammon and Beel having to pull him off. 
“Lucifer are ya nuts?! We gotta have him alive if we have any hope in finding MC!” Mammon had scolded him as he became limp in Beel’s strong grip.
Solomon promised he’d bring you back.
He better not dare to show his face back here until you are with him, safe and sound. 
💛Mammon💛
The normally confident and self assured demon becomes silent. Angry. Afraid. 
 Aside from their initial searching for you, he doesn’t leave your room. 
He can’t feel your pact with him anymore, and it sends him spiraling. 
He buries himself into your pillows, inhaling your lingering scent.
It’s faint, but he takes what he can get
His eyes are puffy and red from crying, and he can’t stand sitting around doing nothing.
He goes out every night, flying over the Devildom, searching.
When he can’t, Mammon sends his familiars out searching for you too, exploring the areas that he can’t reach. 
The ravens are good at finding things, and if they can’t find you, then he’s screwed. 
Each time they come back with nothing. 
Occasionally, they bring him Grimm they’ve found or a valuable piece of treasure. 
But you’re the only treasure he gives a shit about right now. 
When he goes to retreat back to his room, he runs into Lucifer. 
He looks terrible. 
But Mammon can’t blame him. He probably noticed his swollen face and unwashed hair, too. 
He sends you texts every day. Even if you don’t get them. 
Normally he’d be grossed out by his own sappiness, but he doesn’t care. 
He needs you.
MC, wherever you are, just know I love you. So goddamn much. Please come back.
I miss you.
I hope you’re thinking of me, too. 
🧡Leviathan🧡
Leviathan always told you he wouldn’t know what he’d do without you. 
But he really didn’t want to really experience what life would be without you!
Is this some cruel joke?!
It’s got to be! One of his alternate universe video games went wrong again right?
Except it isn’t. You’re actually gone, and he actually has no idea what to do with himself. 
He cries. Alot. 
To mask his tears from his brothers, he spends a lot of time in his fish tank with Henry 2.0. 
Don’t get him wrong, he loves Henry, but he longs for you. His soulmate.
He sends Lotan to search the Devildom seas, far and wide. He had asked him to listen for any information of sightings of you. 
 But so far, there’s been nothing. No word. No trace of you.
He lays curled up in his bathtub, a laptop balanced on his lap as he watches anime to try and distract himself from you.
But oh no, is this your favorite episode?! He turns it off, shoving the laptop away and fresh tears falling down his cheeks. 
I’m so useless, he thinks. The Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy, and I can’t even find a human!
Levi’s self depreciative behavior gets worse.
He blames himself for not being with you when you disappeared.
He begins picking at his skin and nails, an old, nervous habit resurfacing from back when he first fell into the Devildom. 
His brothers do what they can to reassure him, but it’s no use. 
He needs you. Please come back home soon, MC.
💚Satan💚
Satan’s temper tantrums are back.
He didn’t ever think he’d revert back to this, but now that you’re gone….
Accidentally lost his temper and in a wrath filled frenzy blew through the wall in the living room. Lucifer threatened to tie him up. 
Normally the prideful demon would have just done it, but something about his older brother was different nowadays.
He feels it too, he thought. The pacts are gone.
Spends sleepless nights in the library reading any book he can find about curses.
Did you become invisible? He had no other explanation.
Was it the work of some demon on the street who decided they didn’t like you that day?
He’s frustrated because he feels like he doesn’t know anything.
He knows nothing of your sudden disappearance
Like Mammon, he sends his cats out looking for you. Any sign of you. 
But they also bring back nothing but a dead mouse here and there. 
Normally he’d be delighted by their gift to him, but it’s lost its appeal.
When he’s worried about you, nothing else matters. 
Lucifer did allow him to keep a cat in the house though. 
Also uses his personal connections from all three realms to look for you. 
But it’s no use. 
When he’s not in the library, he’s shut away in his room. 
His brothers think for a moment that he’s disappeared as well, but they find him asleep on his bed, his cheeks tear stained and a book on his chest. 
Please come home, MC. I need you.
💖Asmodeus💖
Asmo’s love for you rivals the love he feels for himself. 
Now that you are gone, he feels he has no love left to give for anyone.
He feels empty. 
The Avatar of Lust takes pride in his appearance, always making sure he’s presentable and looking his best. 
But not knowing where you are and if you are safe or not is driving him mad. 
His brothers haven’t seen him this way in a long time. 
Asmo’s eyes are puffy and red, his cheeks and nose raw and swollen from the endless tears. 
He spends hours in the bath, thinking of anything he may have said or done to cause you to leave him like this. 
He takes up the habit of sleeping a lot. He wasn’t sure how Belphie could do it all the time. But now he understands. 
Asmo can also throw a good temper tantrum. 
The day he realized he could no longer feel your pact with him sent him over the edge.
But afterwards he felt embarrassed, even though his brothers will never blame him for expressing his feelings for you. 
When Solomon leaves to go find you, he feels hopeful, putting all the trust he has in your master to find you.
But it also hurts. He hasn’t left Solomon’s side since your disappearance, taking comfort in the bond he still has with him.
He’ll never take it for granted again. 
MC, I can’t take this! If you can hear me, please come home, my lost little lamb… I love you…
❤️Beelzebub❤️
Beel is quiet. 
He’s another one that feels responsible for your disappearance.  
His heart is aching, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 
Thankfully, he has his twin by his side to reassure him. But it’s not enough. 
He needs to know where you’ve gone. 
He needs to save you. 
Beel’s appetite is all over the place. One minute, he can’t stop eating and the next, he’s not hungry at all. 
His brothers got really concerned when he didn’t eat for 2 whole days.
The only hunger he feels is the need to figure out where you went. 
Not only is he worried about you, he’s worried for his brothers. 
He knows they are suffering too, especially with the noticeable absence of your pact. 
Beel has always been protective of them, after all.
He stops going to the gym. He doesn’t feel like it. 
Instead, he cuddles up in bed with Belphie, holding him close with tears silently rolling down his cheeks. 
Beel you’re squeezing too hard, he hears his twin mumble. But he doesn’t care.
He’s almost lost his brother before, and now your disappearance has him terrified. 
Please, don’t take anyone else away from me. 
I love you, MC, please wherever you are, stay safe…
💜Belphegor💜
Belphie’s temper is a short fuse. More than usual, anyways. 
He doesn’t want to talk to anyone but Beel. 
He tries to retreat to the attic to get some peace and quiet from his brothers losing their collective shit. 
But he ends up drowning in a wave of memories as soon as he walks through the door. 
He collapses on the bed and hugs his cow pillow to his body as he sobs, his body curling in on itself. 
Dammit MC, look at what you do to me…you need to come home…
When he isn’t sleeping, he helps soothe the rest of his brothers to sleep. He sees their dreams, knows the thoughts that are keeping them awake.
He wants to help, but figures this could be the only way he knows how. 
He doesn’t feel your presence at all, though. 
That must mean you aren’t anywhere nearby, or even in the same Realm. He knows your pact with him is gone. 
He felt it break the day you disappeared. 
But sometimes he feels a flutter of something in the place where the mark used to be. 
He can’t explain why. 
Belphie often finds himself slipping into bed with his twin at night. 
They were inseparable before, but even more so now that you aren’t around. 
I can’t lose him too, I have to stay by his side, he thinks. He snuggles into Beel’s chest as his brother holds him close, afraid he might disappear too at any second.
He misses the days when you were nestled comfortably right between the two of them. 
You need to come back MC, you’re our missing piece. 
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eydi-andrius · 9 months
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Clear Lilac Eyes (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)
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summary: Aemond had bowed and prayed, something he had never done before no matter how hard his life had been.
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cw/tw: fluff, a bit of angst and hurt, aemond is a good husband, a dad and a king, childbirth, blood, implied war, patriarchy, threats, mentions of violence, threats and tags are not exhausted. Let me know if I miss anything
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a/n: Wrote this as an alternate ending for Don't Get Sad, Get Even but I thought it was too positive so I wrote it as a standalone.
Also, I posted this as a celebration as my blog turned THREE (3) today! YAY! 🎉🥳 Mannnnn, I used to be a lurker on this app then I started craving for my whatifs then wrote them. To celebrate, I will post for all the characters I have written so far and it includes this one. And maybe I have something in store for the others. 👀 A much awaited comeback hehehehehe if you have any request, you may send me an ask! 🥰 I may write them. 👀 Anyway, without further ado, ENJOY!
Likes and reblogs are welcome!
💚
There was an air of uneasiness that chokes out the life of those who breathe it in. The flicker of fire from the torches and the quiet of the hallways made an eerie atmosphere in the Red Keep. 
The shadows, the footfalls and the swish of clothings intensifies the feeling of distress in every mortal present at the birth of the King's child. 
This was an important event for the realm as this child may become the first heir to this new era of dragons. 
All the dragon-blood and silver-haired were almost wiped during the dance of dragons which happened for only a year.
Except for one. 
With his wit and strategy, Aemond Targaryen was able to win the war and was crowned king.
He was vicious and no one could deny him of his throne. Once the swords were down and the white flags were raised, all heads bowed to him.
However, right now, the King's head was bowed to only one, the Mother. The Goddess of Birth. 
While the realm was weary for his heir, he was scared to lose the love of his life.  
She had always expressed her fear of giving birth. When they were young, she had said to him that if she had a choice, she would rather not give birth. During that time, he thought it was silly. No one can run from their purpose. Especially her, whose sole purpose was to continue her family's lineage. She was a noble and a girl. There was no way for her to continue life without giving birth. 
Another blood curdling scream broke from her inside the room. It was loud. Terrifyingly loud. His gut twisted in fear. He had promised her not to enter the chambers while she gives birth but something was egging him on to force his way inside and to stay by her side. 
The room was filled with the familiar sweet metallic scent of blood. He had grown accustomed to it on the battlefield and never once the sight repulsed him. However, the white sheets and the white clothes worn by the maester and midwives were all covered in blood. Her blood. There was too much blood around her. The sickening feeling swirling inside of him tore new fear as he rushed forward and watched her delicate face, pale and deathly. Her lips dry and her hands cold to the tips. 
"My Lady wife, look at me, my dear. I beg of you " He watched her closely as her eyes fluttered softly at the sound of his voice. She looked at him and tried her best to give a smile but the look of it made him regret forcing her to go through the pain of giving birth. She slowly opened her eyes and looked at him before it closed with a deep sigh. He squeezed her cold hands with worry - he prayed that the Mother will show his wife mercy, as she did to all the mothers who had gone through similar pain.
A tiny scream of life caught his attention. He looked behind him and there it was, his child. He never saw that she had finally given birth and was blinded with worry as he rushed in. His small bundle of joy was wrapped in the familiar green and gold linen his mother used for him when he was born. His pride and joy finally came and his heart was filled with unfamiliar warmth. He had never felt like this before.
Without removing his hand that held his wife, he asked the maester to help him place his little dragon on his free arm. The silver protruding hairs on his head had proven he was his child. He looks so small, so full of life as it cries and he shushes him. He had never felt more at ease as he was surrounded with his family. The family he chooses and who chooses him. His love for them runs deeply and he could never express how grateful he was for them.
"It is a girl." The sound of the maester's voice brought him back to where he was sitting and he looked at him. The maester's face did not hide his disappointment but he will forgive him for now.
A girl? 
A smile broke through him and he apologized inside his head to his daughter as he called her wrong. With a gesture of love, he placed his nose on top of hers and his heart was full as he heard her stop crying and coo at him.
He was overfilled with happiness. It feels like nothing could go wrong. 
However, his joy was short-lived when he felt his wife's hand loosen its grip to his. He had now realized her palm was colder, almost like ice. His head whipped in her direction and he saw the familiar feeling of impending death. 
No. Please. Not her either.
The wrong feeling in his gut came back again and he ordered the maester to help his wife. They rushed forward and he stepped back as he cradled the child, who was now peacefully sleeping on his arm. She must have been tired as she forced her way out to this world. She was so innocent and pure that she did not realize the terror that was eating away at his father's core.
He had watched them closely as they tried their best to bring his lady wife back to life. She looks so small, and fragile. He was afraid that they would break her as they moved back and forth to revive her.
The wet nurse of his child had asked and begged him to go out but he refused to do so and did not leave the room until the maester had told him that his wife was safe from harm. No one could tell when she would wake up but he was relieved that she could recover now.
At last, he had entrusted his child to her caretaker and asked the others to leave them be. Him alone with his wife. He waited for the sound of the door closing, before he broke down. With shaking limbs and eyes blurry with tears, he cried and kissed her hand.
He apologized for what he had put her through. He apologized for what she had to witness. 
He apologized for exposing her to violence. 
He apologized and apologized until there wasn't anything he could say to her. 
If the life of his wife would be the retribution for his sins then he would never forgive himself. 
That night, on his knees, he prayed and prayed for her to get better until there were no words he could utter to the Mother.
💚
Three days had passed and she was still asleep. He had smiled at her sleeping form as he recalled his interaction he had with his daughter. She was fussy and loud, just like her mother. He knew she would grow up with her mother's tenacity and boldness. 
Ignoring her pale face and thin body, he bit the inside of his cheek and continued his story. This was worse than war. Sitting beside her and watching as she fights for her life. Waiting and not being able to help her. He hoped that his stories would make her feel strong. 
He never liked the idea of her missing the growth of their child. He knew her better and this will make her sad. She had expressed that she had always wished for her mother to see her grow when she was young but she died too early for her to even remember her face, which people had claimed that they looked quite a lot like each others'.
He could never deny that there is no moment that he never missed her. Every inch and corner of Red Keep reminds him of her. Half of his life was him being with her. He wanted each and every waking moment of his was to be with her.
Swallowing his selfishness and pride, again, he prayed for her to get well and wake up soon. He bargained to all of the Gods that he will do anything and pay for it in his power to make it come true. 
💚
The council room was obnoxiously loud. He watched them quietly like a hunter, staring down its prey.
If he had the choice, he would be with his daughter and wife. But alas, he had to create a strong foundation for this new nation for his lovely daughter. He had to muster all the patience he had to stay still and listen to them. 
After the discussion about the trade and economy, suddenly, all the old men present looked at him warily. Even without them uttering a word, he knew what they would tell him. 
A searing hot anger rises through him but he feels calm. Calm enough to not hesitate to stab and kill with ease, just like what he did during the war. Or maybe he could ask Vhagar to bite them off in half or burn them alive. 
"Congratulations on having a girl, your grace. How was she?" He forgot that man's name but he believed the one who first opened his mouth was a Baratheon. 
"My girl was doing well." He replied curt and short. 
He saw how some of the men gulped in nervousness at the sound of his voice. He intended for them to feel the venom and challenge them to continue so he can cut their tongue. They looked nervous and fear was all over their features. Only Larys and Cregan, looked somewhat calm and remained quiet. 
"We're happy to h-hear that." The Baratheon continued with eyes wandering around his allies, like a helpless sheep waiting to be slaughtered. Aemond moved back and leaned on his chair, he wanted to see them all on a better view. He lay his head to his hand as he stared them down.
The silence was loud as everyone stayed seated and waited for each other. No one dares to. They were afraid. Aemond, the King, was ruthless. They knew bloodshed would be inevitable if they opened their mouths to speak about the dying Queen and the King having no heir after she gave birth to a daughter. 
Each one prefers their head intact, except for one. Or maybe the wise old folk of the North had better places to be and so he started the conversation with a tired sigh. 
"I thought you have something to say about the Queen, boy." He looked at the young Baratheon who was seated across him with emotionless eyes. 
The Baratheon stared at Cregan and the air shifted. The old wolf calling his name had given him confidence to open his mouth and talk about the real reason why this council meeting was held in the first place.
"Your grace, as much as we all pray for the Queen to get better. Please understand that we talk about this with the clearest intention in mind. After what happened to the Queen and the uncertainty of her health, we believed that it would be better to take another wife…..for the sake of our budding kingdom. In that way, we could secure an heir." He spoke with an air of superiority. As if he truly knew what he was talking about. 
Aemond stared at the man. He doesn't know how long it was but he just looked at him. The silence was uncomfortable and some of the gentlemen in front of him looked nervous as they waited for him to speak. 
"Y-your grace?" After some time, the Baratheon spoke again. 
He breathed in and finally, with an intense stare at the fool in front of him, he spoke with a neutral chilling tone.
"Did you know how the war started in the first place, boy?" He tipped his head and waited for an answer. 
Not knowing what to reply, the Baratheon boy blinked and looked around for help. But when no one could give him an answer he replied, confused. 
"Your grace?" 
"When my beloved lady wife was almost dying from childbirth, I suddenly remembered how and why we were all here. Why thousands of lives were lost. Why did dragons almost die and were wiped out?" He said with a menacing smirk. 
"You see, it started on this very council. Who were greedy for power to have the dragon blood on their lineage. To have their blood on the throne. And a foolish king who wore his heart on his sleeves. Those greedy old men pretended to truly care for him by using the memory of his wife and in the end feasted on his heart, voraciously. "He was way too lenient for his own good and once he realized he was being used, it was too late to change anything." My mother once told me. 
And I — I always saw my father as someone who swims along the current because he trusts way too easily, not knowing that there were sharp rocks waiting for him at the end. Even if I knew he wouldn't give me the love of a father as he should, I respect him for being the king. I believed he did his best to be a good one and a fair father to us. It doesn't mean it was enough though." 
Aemond stared from afar as he recalled how he envied his sister. How she got all the love they deserved to have too. It was never their fault to be treated that way and so he blamed all of it on her. But after the war and during the time his wife had suffered the similar fate of the former Queen, he realized how lonely his father might have felt. He realized how his sister might have suffered from being a girl. It was a strong slap on his face as he sat in the middle of this council and watched how these men didn't care about what he had to endure and how the life of his wife was the only reason why he was keeping sane. They will never understand, never. 
"Your grace, w-we cannot understand-" 
"Of course you wouldn't. None of you would." He cut him off before he could continue to rebuke him. 
"If the Queen dies right after this meeting, those who had agreed to have me married for another one would be beheaded for treason. If she did not survive even though her body has been doing well for days, I will treat her death as intentional from all of you. Speak again of her that way, head will roll, and blood will soak the iron throne. The only reason why you do not have a mad King, who craves death, was because of her." 
He stood up and did not care with the way the men yelled in unison of their protest against what he said. The only ones who stayed seated were Larys and Cregan, who both shook their heads. He did not care if they agreed with him. His wife will not die and he will protect her even if it means he has to be a Mad King. 
💚
He stayed seated beside her, just like what he has been doing these days. 
He chooses to be with her at night. He cannot stand to sleep in their room without her. It feels empty and cold. 
The barren room, even though filled with gold and riches, feels like another room in a gloomy castle. 
Each night, he stayed with her. Talk to her until he falls asleep on her side. He will either hold her hand or weave his hand through her hair, to soothe her. Sometimes, he even sings to her in High Valyrian, hoping that she will hear him and finally open her eyes. She always tells him she loves his voice when he speaks his native tongue. 
He waited and waited but it seems like today was like any other night. She needed a whole day of sleep to recuperate. He slowly closed his eyes after he kissed her goodnight. And prayed again that tomorrow, is the day she will smile at him again. 
A caress…
He cannot help but smile at the soft feathery caress on his face. It reminds him so much of how she wakes him up in the morning. What a beautiful dream..
A dream…
He frowned when he realized it was just a dream. She was still asleep and sick. And with his brows knit together, he relinquished the soft touch of fingers on his face. It feels familiar and welcoming. 
Just a bit more, he wanted to feel that she's with him. 
He was slowly going back to sleep, after what happened today, he seemed tired than usual, and it did not take long as the sleep tugged him back again when a tap jolted him awake. 
Even though the war ended a long time ago, his senses were still heightened and he was glad he wasn't wearing his sword or so he probably would have killed whoever forcefully woke him up. 
A smile….
He stared, mouth agape, when he saw you giving him a tired smile. He blinked and then, he panicked as he rushed forward at you, careful not to hurt you with his weight.
"My love.." He said with so much worry in his voice. He was feeling the tears threatening to come out of his eyes as he gazed at her pale face and dry lips. He doesn't even know how he will touch her. A moment of hesitation, his hands stopped midair as he panics that he might break her. What if he hurt her unintentionally and she fell asleep again?
He watched her as she tried to move her mouth but failed. She swallowed and tried again. This time he went to where the water and cup was placed and he helped her up to drink. She was thirsty and her mouth is probably dry from being asleep for a long time. Aemond calm yourself! She needed you more than now.
Once done, he carefully assisted her to lean on the headboard and she sighed with relief. 
He was just looking at her. And she was looking back at him. It took a while, the staring, until his face contorted with relief and then, he cried. He was shaking as he held her hand. She felt her fragile hands weave through his hair as she shushed him. He knew she was smiling. Glad to be back on his arms. 
He never felt so relieved and so thankful. 
All his life the people, his loved ones and even the gods did not like him. 
No matter how much he tried his best. No matter how much he was better he will never be chosen for he was only a second son. He was there as a safety but never the one.
But you choose him. And never did your love wavered. 
He never felt so hopeless when you were in pain and bedridden. 
He never felt so useless despite doing his best to be the strongest for his family. 
It was the first time he felt so inadequate and weak. That he gave all of his strength to kneel and pray for you whenever he could. He begged and promised that he would do anything in his power just so he could have you back. 
And now, crying in your middle like a child, as you held him as tight as he did, he prayed for gratefulness. 
💚
A week after you woke up, you are still not strong enough to walk outside. 
You relinquished the sun on your window and watched as Aemond carried and sways your daughter. 
You have a feeling that the reason why he was able to be in your room, as much as he could, was because he threatened the nobles every time they tried to stop him. You tried to talk to him once, compromising that he doesn't have to be with you, almost the whole day, but he shrugged and rolled his eyes, stating that he would rather be with his wife than be surrounded by men. 
Aemond can be stubborn but he never runs from his obligations so this was truly new for you. 
You giggled as you watched your lord husband's eyes widen from surprise. He was teasing your daughter by placing his finger in her small palm, when she closed and squeezed him tight, never letting go. His eyes softened when she cooed at him. 
He looks so different from when they call him the one-eyed prince for being vicious and fearsome. You were truly loved by the gods for witnessing this interaction and being one of the centers of his affection. 
"I will make her my heir." He said with a plain voice, as if he was asking you how you were. 
"My love?" You frowned, confused. You have witnessed Rhaenyra being crowned heir and how the war started from there. What is going on?
"I will change the law to make the eldest an heir. No matter what gender they may be, they will be given the same education and treatment, fit as the next ruler. If the nobles disagree, not that I care about them, I will also add that a female heir and noble will always have a noble child. Compared to a prince, a boy, the one she would carry will have noble blood in their veins. I will use my life, my reign to establish this. My daughter will be heir and no man, no noble, will be able to take that from her." The initial worry and confusion you felt from earlier vanished, as you watched him share his plan with the softest eyes. The setting sun at the window, creating a soft silhouette of him carrying his daughter. He loves her more than the throne. Something you have never witnessed before. 
It warms your heart and you never thought you would fall deeper in love with him this much in this lifetime. You will forever be happy that he chose you. 
"My love…..you always prove to me why I choose you every single waking moment of my life." Without thinking you opened your mouth and spoke the words that always lingered in your end. 
Surprised, he stared at you and then, he smiled in awe. You don't even need him to speak for you to know that his eyes and soften feature was him telling you that he loves you. 
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sunfl0werlevi · 1 year
Text
HOME
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ʚ✩ɞ ratings: sfw, angst to fluff, comfort
ʚ✩ɞ cw/tw: jjk manga chapter 221 spoilers! slight angst and depressive tones. slight sexual tones hehe.
ʚ✩ɞ wc: 10.5k
ʚ✩ɞ tags: gojo satoru x fem!reader, husband gojo and wife reader are teachers
ʚ✩ɞ an: hi! yes, this is the first time ill be sharing one of the many works i have in my drafts (that im confidently not sharing ever). idek how it got this long. gojo being unsealed triggered something in me so i hope u enjoy. ( ˘ ³˘)♥
italicized texts are past dialogues! FEEDBACKS are highly appreciated.
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you stared at the golden band around your ring finger, toying it around. your bed seemed to stretch twice its size and grow colder every morning that you wake up.
every morning, you trace the outline of the dips on his side of the bed. you left it dismantled the way he did, since 19 days ago. you could still see a few strands of silver hair on his pillow glowing under the daylight.
"satoru, please."
"you know there's a lot of souvenir shops in shibuya! maybe i'll take you to some if you're a good little wifey."
"you told me we're working together on this. just let me fight alongside with you-" you pouted and so he gives you a wet smack on the cheek and booped your nose.
"babe, my honey, sweetiepie, you're on children duties!"
"no fair!"
"don't worry, ijichi will take you there. toodles!" and then he warped out.
fools. you didn't even know half of the shit that was about to set loose.
the wooden sliding door of your shared room slammed open, startling you out of your thoughts. there stood an out of breath yuuji with both his hands clinging on to either side of the door frame.
"sensei," he looked at you with determination, a sense of sparkle behind his eyes.
no. no.
you can't have this right now. not right now. you were not ready--not when what you've been preparing yourself for was the worst. but this? this wasn't in your plan.
any indication of hope from him has all been but failure. you were under the high of false hope but now...now, you don't even know how to respond with this pressing matter in front of you.
what kind of wife are you to even think that way? will he even understand if you feel this way?
but you are here now and he is here now.
his frame stood patiently behind your student, waiting for you to say anything. but only the sound of your shallow, shuddering breaths filled the room.
the pink-haired boy staggered backwards to leave, as to give room to your man.
doors were always never tall enough for satoru so he has to duck down in order to grace the room with his presence. his presence that is so invigorating, with his own hint of charisma.
and there he is. he is still so beautiful. his alabaster hair unreasonably still glimmering. your eyes were met with the color of the sky--lustrous and comforting, anticipating you.
but beneath this façade, they were chagrin and desolated, designed with heavy lids and undereye bags that loitered his skin.
the man that came to face you is not your satoru. although indulging with the fact that he looks bigger, more rugged, with his toned arms filling up the sleeves of his shirt--this satoru is only the shell of the man that you used to know.
he scratched his neck, his eyes crinkling into a smile as he gave you a small assuring grin. he opened his arms, wide and warm, welcoming you into a zone you knew all too well.
"c'mere."
though against your will, your body seemed to have a mind of its own--lunging forward to the sense of familiarity that is in front of you. amidst the unconvinced and confused face you held, your body knew how much you ached for this moment and alas your feet brought you towards him.
he gripped your waist so tightly, so much that he could break you in half like--like there were no tomorrow.
words could not even begin to detail this feeling. missing him is an understatement. no--you yearned for him--for his touch, for his smell, for his warmth. for this moment.
you sank deeper into his broad chest. the feeling and the sound of his heartbeat confirming that this is all true and not just a pigment of your imagination, or not you going insane.
he stuck his nose on top of your head, breathing in your smell. god, he could cry. he missed you so much and he was going insane because he was beginning to forget what his favorite shampoo you use smells like.
the silence was both so comforting yet so delicate. there are both no words yet too many words to tell. one pin drop could make or break the atmosphere. a paradox in the flesh. just in character for your husband.
but just in time, he spoke up, breaking the tension. you had imagined this moment, him apologizing or saying i love you, over and over. but no, he yet again breaks the record.
"thank you."
the last thing you wanted was to ever forget him. so, you listened to every voice messages, voice mails, and videos that he sent you every day like it was a routine and a lullaby before you sleep.
you would not forgive yourself if you forgot what he sounds like.
with the sound of his voice triggering the turmoil in you, your chin quivered and your throat burned in an agonizing pain. all of the weeping and mourning you've suppressed poured out onto his shirt.
he brushed your hair and cooed you into silent hushes.
"i'm sorry."
"satoru, she never cried," shoko said.
gojo sat silently on shoko's loveseat chair with both his arms resting on its armrest. he is finally relaxed which unfortunately meant that he has the time to think.
all of the guilt is finally blossoming inside of him.
for the longest time, he wished that he'd be rid of all the burdens that are pushed onto his shoulders. he wanted to run away. with you.
but he knew that his being makes everything complicated and you'd be in greater danger beside him than staying with everybody else.
so, him being in that damned box? his wish came true. was he selfish to somehow feel relieved while being isolated, knowing everything he left behind and all the chaos that ensued?
his colleague and good friend, nanami, who all but strayed away from jujutsu, was pushed towards it again by gojo. and now he's gone.
his teacher and a parent that he considered, principal yaga, lost his life fighting for everyone--especially for the children that gojo was supposed to protect.
his students--tiny but fighter nobara, with half of her head barely even of any shape and unresponsive on a pale hospital bed. yuuji who always graced a smile, now looked like he aged a dozen. and megumi--his son, who always quietly rooted and stood for everyone, lost his hope and is now a vessel to sukuna.
and you. he could not even begin to think how much of a toll it took on you.
"she kept everyone glued together, you know. when everything was falling apart after you...you were gone, she held all of their hands."
shoko blew a smoke out of her office window then tapped her cigarette onto an ashtray. "every day, she cleans nobara's body with a wet towel. when the students would come back with all unimaginable injuries, she tended to them with all of her reversal."
"satoru, i had to clinically force her, just so i could tend to her own injuries for a day. she did not want to stop working as if..."
"as if she will lose it, if she stopped," he finished the sentence, holding a firm gaze with shoko.
she and him knew what it was like to grieve for someone but still having all the responsibilities demanded at every second.
gojo, whether everybody admits or not, was their source of hope. the students gravitated towards him, and even curses do not fail to see the light that he shines--attracting them like moths to a flame.
he tended to everyone's troubles, to the bullshit of the higher-ups that even led to him killing his own bestfriend.
but you-you are the damned closest thing to him. you were his half. you are his half. and everybody knew you are a gojo too.
so they all went to you. for 19 whole days, you shared, albeit, owned his responsibilities. and you had to keep it together.
you should not fall apart. you cannot fall apart. the children relied on you for their strength and you kept them all stuck together like a little patched-up family of your own.
you became him. a true gojo. although it sounds gratifying, it was the last thing that he wanted for you to ever encounter.
he never wanted to share his pain and bare all of his weaknesses to you. but you unconditionally took them all, without any words nor complaints.
"she-she wasn't there."
"she didn't want to be disheartened and defeated if it had failed. you were gone and she is here. still here. you know where to find her, so go."
it wasn't just you. he also does not have the heart to see your face yet--he never really had a say on when he was getting released, anyway.
but he went to you.
your palms cupped his face, searching every inch of his skin like it is something foreign. his large hands held onto them, rubbing slow and soft circles on it.
"i've missed you...so much." you mumbled, risking a hiccup and another bout of tears to pour out of you. he dried your cheeks with both his thumbs.
"i know. i know, sweetheart," his voice was soft, barely a whisper, as he brought his lips towards your eyes.
he kissed your eyes tenderly, as if commanding for them to close for a minute. satoru knew how much you needed to crack--he wanted you to fall apart on him and he can pick up all of the pieces. he can make you whole again.
he can hold you together with his warm hands, thawing and melting you into a puddle of your own unresolved emotions. molding you exactly, to fit perfectly right where you belong.
right here. right next to him.
to him, you are the apple of his six eyes. the immeasurable devotion of his limitless. and the bottomless beloved of his infinity.
he could never leave you again. not like that. not ever.
he pressed his forehead against yours, his proximity tickling you with his breath and his pillowy lips brushing against yours. he rubbed his nose on yours and his eyelashes feather on your cheek.
"i love you," he rubbed his thumbs on both your cheeks while holding your gaze, accessing all of your senses with his presence.
he wants you to know, he's here.
he tentatively leans closer, only kissing you daintly. "kiss me. kiss me, satoru."
and so he planted his hand at the small of your back, leaning forward, obliging to your words. he kisses you--deeply and passionately. your mouth presses eagerly, gliding with his lips fervently without any lapses, like your life depended on it.
you put your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss even more. he gripped your hips tightly, pulling you impossibly closer to him.
satoru is trying his best to not tear your clothes off, on behalf of his student waiting outside.
"god-" he retracted, staring at your eyes.
"i-" he kisses your neck "-missed you-" your chin "-so-" your nose "-much."
there is no reason for the both of you to be separated at all. not anymore.
and so he interlocks your pinkies together like he always did. you giggled and he grins widely.
"i'm here. i'm home."
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onlyseokmins · 1 year
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show and tell • l.s.m.
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Pairing: lee seokmin x afab!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), best friends/idiots to lovers!au Warnings: swearing, lotssss of teasing/switch dynamics, tickling, reader is obsessed w/ seokmin's body, they're idiots your honor and they're a lil bit in L-word 🤮, mingyu thrown under the bus as always, ONE BAD PUN BC I THINK I'M FUNNY, sex is as silly as me, BIG COCK SEOK 🗣️ like he's fucking huge okay, oral (both rec. kind of), attempt at 69 but seok's a menace the entire time, fingering, CRYING/TEARS, possession, biting, marking, multiple orgasms, squirting, lil bit of cumplay ig?, mentions of prev partners, overstim... i think that's it lmk if i missed smth 🥵😰 WC: 6.5k A/N: um so this is the most self-indulgent thing i dared to post you're WELCOME i shall now go die in a hole to never be seen ever again... happy belated birthday to the loml ugh ty to all the frens that let me sob in their dms and to @onlymingyus for helping me with a damn title 💖
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The commonly shared belief among your friend group was that Seokmin is abnormally soft when it comes to you.
You thought they were full of shit. 
The bestest buddy in the world was also the softest ray of morning sunshine to ever exist in general. You could barely count on one hand the number of people he genuinely ever showed disdain towards or didn't get along with. All in all — it was extremely hilarious in your opinion because Seokmin's fluffy personality greatly contrasted with his lean, sharp physique. 
Ironically, the main reason you ended up in this position.
Just moments before, you were on his bed and caged between his arms. The dog tag necklace you'd gifted, engraved with his birth date and initials, swinging in the same rhythm that your heart rapidly beats with the small space separating your bodies. A sly grin raises the corners of his lips, the long fingers of his left-hand creeping up to trail lightly at your sides.
"I know you have abs."
Seokmin's hands fly up to wrap defensively around his body, though all in good jest. "You can't just ask a dude how many abs he has!"
"And you can't lie to me by saying you don't have any! Do you know how many of your dude-bros have blabbed about your crazy gym routine to me? Can you even guess how many girls bitched at me 'cause you weren't shirtless at my pool party? As if that's my fault?"
"But it's mine?"
"No, all I have to do is prove them wrong. So, show me the goods!"
You sucked at making up your mind — what to eat, what to wear, what to watch, what to do — okay, but who doesn't? It's something Seokmin was very familiar with, hence him always having to pick up wherever you left off. He also knows just as well that once you've settled on something, you'll see it through to the very end. Eventually. 
Which normally works out in his favor except in moments like now. So he resorts to a different preventative measure — tickling the decisiveness right out of you.
Like hell you'll let him do what he wants.
Maybe the whispers about him being soft for you were right. After all, it's to your utter benefit when you push at his shoulder. Only a bit unbalanced, he easily falls onto his side and you scramble to climb on top of him at record speed, one arm pinning Seokmin's wrists against the pillow beneath his head. 
Unfortunately, this looks like one of your 3,718,493,842 very bad choices in life. Once again, something you didn't think all the way through. Sure, you've bested Seokmin at light wrestling and play-fighting before — back when you were toddlers and all he did was cry.
Now, at adult ages, it seems like a horrible, terrible, very bad idea to have him beneath you. Your fingers play with the hem of his black t-shirt that's ridden up ever so slightly, unbearablely close to the leather band of his silver belt buckle. 
Seokmin's pupils are blown wide as he looks up at you with a strange, almost starry-eyed look of surprise. Black bangs flipped up across the dark gray of his blanket, silver chain askew shining against his collarbones, mouth slightly ajar.
Suddenly you're hyper-aware of sitting right on top of him, completely obliterating the distance between your bodies earlier, and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination from what you can feel nestled in between your legs. 
"Would it be inappropriate of me to take your shirt off right now?" you can't help but ask.
He laughs, all breathless and high-pitched like he does when he's nervous. "You're asking for permission?"
"Seokmin," you whine and shift your hips in protest without thinking. Another bad move. Oops. "I'm trying to be polite."
"You have me pinned to my bed with the intent to strip me and you're worried about being polite?"
"Oh, please, you could easily break free."
It's true. His wrists twitch a bit under your grasp, almost like he's attempting to do just that but you're faster once more. Or he's just letting you have your way with him. Whatever the case, your other hand firmly holds both of his down which only brings your faces closer together.
"Don't move."
"Okay," Seokmin agrees and licks his lips, "at least you know what consent means."
"Are you consenting?"
"Depends on what to."
"Me taking off your shirt."
"… Should I be flattered?"
"Very."
Brown eyes close, his brow furrowing. For a minute, you think you've accidentally taken things too far and are about to quickly apologize and backpedal before things backfire until his lips quirk up and Seokmin snorts.
"Never imagined you'd be stripping me like this."
You would agree because what the hell? All this for some abs? But the way he says it makes you pause.
"Have you imagined this before?"
Expecting him to panic or something, you're even more taken aback when he bites his lip like he's holding back more laughter. 
"And what if I have? You'll be offended even if I lie." 
You narrow your eyes challengingly while his sparkle. "Are you… flirting with me?" 
"That is not how I flirt but okay." 
"You're being weird. Weird weird. Like super-duper weird." 
"Says the one soaking my jeans, right now." 
You want to scream. Instead, you let out a scandalized gasp, eyes widening. The effort it takes to bolt away means you must release Seokmin. Something that doesn't even cross your mind with the shame heating up your cheeks, mortification setting off every sirening alarm in your nervous system.
Your first mistake.
Countless other mistakes will be made after this, but looking back — could they really be watered down to just a mistake after the end results? Why you're even so embarrassed in the first place is beyond you. And your best friend has zero intentions of letting you get away from him.
The minute Seokmin's hands are freed, one flies to keep your hips pressed against his while the other gently braces your back. Lifting his torso up with insane core strength he clearly was lying about not having, you have no choice but to wrap an arm instinctively around his neck like a koala. Your other hand curls into a fist, clinging against the fabric straining with the flex of his chest muscles while simultaneously attempting to push him back in a futile effort.
"Breathe," Seokmin murmurs in mild concern. His eyes crinkle as he smiles encouragingly. "Breathe for me, babe."
You hadn't even realized you were holding your breath. If you inched any closer forward, your nose would brush against his, and leaning too far back would end up with him on top of you again.
"This is all your fault, babe."
"You're the one that started this in the first place, babe."
"All I wanted was to see your abs," your voice drops to a pathetic whisper, "babe."
"All you had to do was ask, silly."
"I did!"
To your horror, he leans in even closer with a devious smirk so his nose brushes tenderly against yours. "For yourself. Not others."
"What… what are you playing at Seokmin?"
"It's like you misinterpret everything I do on purpose."
"I — "
"If you think I'm just playing around you're sorely mistaken."
A beat of silence. "Then what are you doing?"
"Nothing," he says innocently even though the hand on your back trails upwards and not-so-innocently unclasps the bra underneath your shirt. 
Your jaw drops. Of course, your modest top is still on and the shoulder straps keep your undergarment in place. Yet, you feel naked with the way Seokmin shamelessly ogles your covered chest and lets out a satisfied groan, pleased that you weren't wearing a sports bra. After all, it's not the first time he's done that for you — but it is under this strange context.
"Seokmin — "
"I'll do whatever you want me to do. Tell me." His voice is low, rougher than you've ever heard, causing tingles to shoot down your spine at the way he says your name. "I should take full responsibility for whatever happens."
His last sentence echoes over and over inside your head because yeah, what the hell is going to happen? — until you blurt out, "You find me attractive?"
Finally, Seokmin acts the way you expect and are familiar with, his shy demeanor coming out like sun rays peeking through overcast clouds. Bowing his head, forehead flopping on your shoulder, he admits defeat. 
"As if that's even a question, goofball."
"No way — there's no way! My bestie, you, find me, your bestie, like. Hot?"
"Look, I know it's cliché to fall for your friend and all that stupid shit," he grumbles, "but you don't have to sound so shocked. I already know thanks to Mingyu."
You freeze. "Know what?"
"… You're really going to make me say it?" he laughs in disbelief and shakes his head against your shoulder, causing your loose strap to slide down. "When my pride's already in tatters?"
Urging Seokmin to pick up his head and look at you, you face his brown eyes straight-on and cup his flushed cheek. "What did Mingyu say that crushed your pride?"
He sighs. "He told you I liked you before I ever got the chance to say it myself to you."
Your eyebrows raise. "He did?"
"Yeah. And I thought you just. Well. I don't know, I thought you were just ignoring it out of consideration or something. Obviously. Since you didn't say anything."
"… All 'cause I was pretty sure he blabbered about accidentally spilling the beans to you about me liking you."
The both of you pause, silently cursing poor Mingyu. He did mean well. Somehow.
"You're joking right," Seokmin whispers, "is this real?"
"What makes you think it's not."
"Because you've only ever returned my feelings in my dreams."
Your pride swells at that, wrapping your arms around his neck daringly. "Dream about me often?"
He falls backward on the bed, taking you down with him with your bodies pressed tightly together. You admire his handsome features with renewed thirst while he shuts his eyes, no longer forcing yourself to view him through the platonic lenses you'd kept on for so long.
Then his eyes flash back open and you flinch at the burning desire blazing within them. He's never looked at you like that, at least not directly and it ignites the equal yearning you feel for him like a match.
"Yeah," he answers your teasing question, "I do."
Just the thought alone makes you dizzy. Your best friend, your sweet and lovely Seokmin who puts up with all your bullshit, laying here on this exact bed with thoughts of you consuming his mind. Pining for you. Wanting you. Shit, you think he deserves to have all his fantasies come true. And you're more than happy to help him out. 
"What do we do in your dreams?"
"Everything. Anything."
An iron-clad grip will probably leave bruises behind but it's not enough to stop you from a slow, lazy grind of your hips. You sit up for more leverage, hands on his broad shoulders for support, watching with smugness oozing out of your smile as he struggles to continue his wholesome thoughts.
"Holding hands, cute dates, buying you pretty things… "
"C'mon babe," you tease, "what else?"
"Ah… " Seokmin sighs, throwing an arm over his face to hide his eyes though it can't hide the flush creeping up his neck, to his cheeks, and coloring his cute ears. "You know… "
"Nah, I don't. Not unless you tell me." 
"… Just gets lonely in bed. At night. Cold."
"We've slept together before when I've stayed the night and vice versa."
"Mhm, but never with my dick inside of you."
You coo, trying to keep up your unbothered façade as though the quickening pace of your hips isn't making an insane mess of his lap. 
"Poor little Seokminnie had to jerk off all by himself." Leaning down to whisper maliciously in the ear that isn't shielded by his elbow, "Or did you do it while I was laying next to you because you were so frustrated?"
"As if," he scoffs, "and I'm not sure what you mean by little."
Like a switch has flipped, two hands return and grip your hips, keeping them stationary. To prove his point hard, it's Seokmin's turn to grind his pelvis up into the moist heat of your covered cunt while holding you still to feel every agonizingly delicious drag of his cock. The way he can feel you pulse against him even through your thin shorts, the devastating whimper that leaves your mouth when the rough fabric manages to catch your clit just right make up for the mildly gross stickiness of precum inside of his jeans.
A sadistic grin leers at you, almost a snarl. Such a jarring contrast to the normally soft, fond looks you're used to and a shudder runs through your body at the shock, another rush of heated arousal dripping from your pussy.
It's cute, Seokmin thinks to himself, how you put up this act and think you're the one in control when it's really me, the one whose lap you're on.
"Can you even blame me?" he growls, not waiting nor expecting any answer as he sits back up, jostling your body in the process. "I was so good, so well-behaved in front of you. And yet you waltz around me with barely anything on all the damn time, flirting with all my friends in that skimpy bathing suit without a care in the world… "
You don't even know when you ended up on your back. Staring wide-eyed into Seokmin's narrowed ones, his eyelids fluttering as he recalls these memories, fist clenched and arms tense as he towers on top of you once again. He's panting, lower body still pressed against yours.
"Batting your eyelashes at me, giggling, grinding that sweet ass all over me on the dancefloor and then skipping away even though I wanted to touch you so badly… and if that's not torturing enough, constantly showing up in my dreams, always out of reach… So yeah, I'm just a little frustrated, sorry."
"I'm… I'm… I-I didn't know — "
"I know that. I know that and that's why I felt like utter trash. You didn't mean any of it and here I am throwing my disgusting fantasies on you."
"Don't say that," you plead and cup the side of his face, running your thumb repeatedly across his mole. "You're not trash, Seokmin. I wasn't thinking — I mean I didn't realize… I just — "
"Please," he interrupts suddenly, desperately begging. "Please tell me… if this… if this is going to be a spur of the moment, out of pity, and a one-time thing… please tell me you don't want this. That you don't want me — "
"I want to kiss you." 
You watch his body tremble before he takes a deep breath, smiling up at him as his eyes gradually open. They blink owlishly at you, nearly crossing in his attempt to scan your face if he really heard you correctly as you guide him by the jawline close to your lips.
"I want you, Seokmin."
To be honest, you've never really imagined what it'd feel like to kiss your best friend. The movies you've watched make it out to be magical, enchanting, and something out of a fairy tale. Sure, maybe they're not wrong but the majority of entertainment is the bad boy turning sweet or a soft boy remaining a gentleman.
Nothing's prepared you for awakening the beast in a good boy.
He kisses you with a ferocity that steals your breath from the get-go. A sensual clash of teeth, tongue, spit, love bites, and nips. Seokmin always had an enjoyable, pleasing tone to his voice and it sounds even better when he's grunting and groaning in the laidback battle for dominance.
Somehow, your clothes are merely disheveled and not ripped off despite continual tangling and grabbing at each other. Once again, you find yourself back on top as you gasp for air — having to push him away when he chases after you for more kisses. If you thought he was pretty before, he's even lovelier with shiny, swollen lips and a dazed, hungry look in his eyes.
Despite pouting at the sudden distance, the man astonishingly looks at you like you've hung the stars in the sky. As if he's never seen the ugly sides of you, your lowest and most embarrassing moments. His gaze trails from where you sit on his thighs to the rise and fall of your heaving chest to your blown-out pupils with such appreciation and awe that your cheeks are set aflame.
Although maybe you're just seeing a reflection of your own adoration. Running your hand down the toned length of one of his arms, you intertwine your fingers together. A smirk returns to your face as he squeezes back, distracted.
"So, can I see your abs now?"
Seokmin groans your name and chews on his lip, uncertain. You shrug and toy with the hem of your own shirt before decisively pulling it over your head. A blissed-out sigh escapes his mouth at the reveal.
Your bra is undone — thanks to his earlier mischief — and barely covers your breasts. Threatening to fall off at the slightest move, you pretend to protect what little modesty you might have and keep it in place with a free hand. 
"Tit for tat?" you tease.
He audibly gulps and you watch his Adam's apple bob. You wait patiently, letting him go at his own pace and back out if he wants. Though he does relent because he feels at comfort with you, revealing his gorgeous tan skin and upper body you hadn't seen in what feels like years.
"Omigod…" you gasp out and he cringes, upper body taut with nerves. "You've been hiding a six-pack away from the public for so long?"
"I — "
"I want to touch them."
"Why are you so obsessed with my abs?"
"'cause they're mythical. Like unicorns or… or Bigfoot."
"You're comparing me to a yeti?"
"Not yet…i!"
He rolls his eyes at the ridiculous pun. "I thought I was getting a 'tit for tat'?"
"Yeah," you nonchalantly slide off your loose bra and toss it somewhere on his bedroom floor. Seokmin doesn't even get to relish the bare sight of your tits for his own enjoyment because you're grumbling, "can't even show his best friend his fine ass abs," and he has to correct you.
"Maybe if I was your boyfriend, I'd show them to you all the time."
"Oh? Is that a promise? A threat? A distraction?"
"An offer. A suggestion even."
"It's pretty tempting," you play coy, "can I touch you if I say yes?"
"Only if I can touch you too."
"Then yes." Your pointer finger travels down the flexed crease of his skin to right above his belly button. "Can I see your dick now?"
"But I want… I'd like to… taste you."
"Later," you assure and daringly place a kiss above his waistband. Your hands tug at the belt when his hips stutter upwards. "Please?"
He's gone the moment you flutter your eyelashes at him and so are his ruined jeans. Discarded on the floor to join the growing number of other clothing when he says yes. 
Even Seokmin himself would admit he is indeed too soft for you but his cock certainly isn't. Your eyes nearly bug out when it flops against his stomach, angry red and leaking tears of precum. He grits his teeth at how much it aches, perfect jawline even more prominent. 
His self-esteem would have been dashed to pieces at the devastating frown on your pretty face but it's greatly inflated when all you can do is whimper out, "You're so big… "
"Yeah?"
Your best friend — no, now your boyfriend, you suppose — hisses when you blink at him. 
"There's no way you're gonna fit."
"Hah, 's never been a problem before." Nails dig into his thigh, the little show of possession at the mention of his previous partners wickedly giving Seokmin another ego boost. He's quick to try and appease you though by saying, "don't worry, babe… let me prep and taste you, I'll make it fit I promise and you'll feel good."
"Fuckin' sweet talker." You feel a hand reach out to temptingly slip under the band of your shorts. "Everything about you is always so sweet."
"'m sure you taste even sweeter." 
"Seokmin…" 
"Hm?" His touch grows bolder at the moan of his name, squeezing at the plumpness of your ass. "Will you please let me have a taste? Just wanna help you out." 
You won't be thinking I'm so sweet after this. 
Eager to touch him, you nod and start to take off your shorts but Seokmin is faster. Nearly tearing them off your body in excitement and somehow managing to position your bare lower body right where he wants it. 
Luckily, you're able to face his neglected cock. A shriek leaves your mouth, though, because the hardened tip of his tongue is searching for your clit, lathing and suckling on it when he does find it. 
You try to focus on your prize but it's difficult with the vigor he's attacking your throbbing, needy pussy. Seokmin holds you up high enough that he can leave occasional nips on the inner crease of your hips before harshly licking and sucking up your messy arousal. Shaking his head back and forth with an animalistic growl, all you can do is resort to pitiful kitten licks and slobbering mindlessly on just the side of his cock. 
The more you attempt to wrap your lips fully around the tip, the further down he brings you to his mouth until you're almost suffocating him. A brutal assault where you can only twitch your hips to which he agreeably grunts, gliding you across his open mouth ever so slightly. Unable to escape the throes of pleasure, not that you would want to — you give up and give in. 
Tears fill your eyes as your body convulses and shakes, staring longingly at his cock through bleary eyes. Seokmin's muffled moans as he gladly helps you ride out your orgasm with your fluttering hole clamping around his tongue barely registering in your ears. You feel like you're floating while underwater in the most delicious of ways. 
Seokmin manages to nudge you enough so he can catch his breath while waiting for you to come back to him. A fond smile on his lips when you're finally able to move and he helps you flop by his side. 
"Why on earth are you a pussy-eating pro?" 
"You keep complaining about things most people don't find fault in." 
"I wanted to suck the life out of you, not the opposite." You reach for his cock again but he stops you — again — and rubs the back of your hand consolingly while he wipes the wet mess you'd left on his face with a smirk like a badge of honor he takes pride in. "Lee Seokmin!" 
"Shhh, don't whine, baby. Almost there, I'll let you have my dick soon. Give it to you real good. Now that I've confirmed what a tight, good little pussy you have for myself, gotta make sure you're stretched out enough. Don't wanna hurt you." 
"It already hurts, 'm so empty, 'min." 
"Greedy," he snickers, knowing you're full of shit, and sits up. "After I just stuffed you with my tongue so well that you complained about it, now you want me again?" 
"Always want you. Always have. Didn't realize it before but it's true. 'm sorry, Seokkie, need you so bad though." 
"Lucky I like you so much. Now turn around, let me see that lovely ass of yours." 
You do as he says, clambering up on all fours and arching your back prettily, looking over your shoulder to see what he'll do next. 
The sight alone is a wet dream. He's licking his lips, brown eyes honed in on your puffy, seeping cunt until he's snapped out of the trance when he realizes you're watching him. He sticks out his tongue to pull a silly face and you shake your head in disbelief. 
A finger traces up your spine before it turns into his palm pushing down between your shoulder blades so your cheek is pressed into the pillows. You can just feel the heavy heat of his cock but he pulls away before you can savor it for too long. A constant tease that leaves you whining again in frustration and wiggling your hips enticingly, a futile effort. 
"I know you're desperate. 'm sorry, don't wanna cum too fast and disappoint you though." 
"You won't disappoint me." 
"Nope, I'll make it worthwhile. Promise. We can do whatever positions you want after this. I'd like to see you riding me like you do in my dreams, personally." Watching how you clench at his words, he chuckles. "Knew you'd like that too. Now, let's see…" 
He slips a digit inside your hole muttering, "There we go," and adds another. And another. Three fingers explore your gummy inner walls and he hums in contemplating tones before he begins scissoring motions to get your pussy to further open up. 
Your moans are muffled by the bed and Seokmin simply increases his pace to make them louder with a sneer of satisfaction you don't see. You do feel him kissing down the length of your spine, more love bites that make you squeal at each pinch. 
"So cute and perfect. What 'm I gonna do with you?" he asks and pretends to understand the unintelligible garble to his rhetorical question. "Yeah, that's right, babe. Fuck you even more stupid than you are now 'cause it's what you deserve." 
Retracting his fingers, licking them clean, and mumbling how pretty you are — then he's finally wrapping a veined hand around his even veinier cock to tease at your entrance. 
He plays with your wetness, coating his tip with it and making both your mouth and pussy drool. And god, does Seokmin relish the vision before him. 
You're everything to him and that thought alone makes him bite down on his lower lip, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. He doesn't want to fuck this up. Every muscle in his body tenses when he takes a deep breath and eases himself inside, enraptured with the way your soft pussy lips part and cling around his length to welcome him. 
When he glances up to check how you're doing, he has to reign himself back from exploding or thrusting insensitively all the way in. The way your eyes roll up, a stain of drool left on his blanket, and the feeble thank you's followed by a filthy series of moans — he lets out a string of curses that would make even a depraved whore blush out of shyness. 
"S'big, s'full," you hiccup, clenching and unclenching in rapid successions that has Seokmin wheezing, though he tries to comfort you. 
"'m not even all the way inside, sweetheart. Bear with me, babe. Breathe. I've got you." 
"Got me… hella fuckin' full."
"You can take it. I know you can." He pushes his hips forward a bit more. "There you go, sweetheart. Relax just a tiny bit… Yeah, that's it…" 
Praises fall from his lips and you sob at both the goddamn stretch and unfathomable pleasure. You already feel him buried in your gut reaching spots you didn't even know existed by the time he's almost bottomed out for his pelvis to press temptingly against your ass — you're pretty sure you can feel him in your lungs at this point.
"S'deep…!" 
"Feel so fucking good… d'ya need me to pull out a little, baby? You still with me?" 
You answer him by bravely using whatever strength — or more like the urge for him to split you open and take it all because you want to be as good as he's telling you that you are for him — and push yourself back so he's fully seated within your tight cunt. 
You're probably screaming if your raspy throat and ringing ears are anything to go by. He's panting and rubbing his forehead with a groan. 
"Fuck, what are you so hot for?" 
The air feels like it's been punched out of his lungs, the same way his cock is being suctioned and squeezed. In an effort to wrangle whatever control is left within himself, Seokmin focuses on your body and how it reacts. Laying over your arched back to press your bare bodies close together in an intimate fashion. 
You can feel his necklace and its cool touch on your burning skin. The recollection of never seeing him without it since gifting it to him reignites a possessive streak in you and has your pussy pulsing around him more fervently. Suddenly you long to have his mark engraved on you permanently, etched into your body and soul just like the inanimate object. 
It's almost a shame when he pauses to tug it free so it doesn't break and let it hang over your shoulder instead. Not that it matters much, for you'd only have a temporary imprint of a dog tag shape on your back. 
As if he can read your muddled mind (he probably can), Seokmin makes up for it in his concentration to delay his dizzy cloud of absolute unbridled lust. He's already left many physical reminders of his touch where you'll definitely be sore later scattered around your body and as a bonus — bites down where your neck meets your shoulder. 
(You have no idea how you'll explain the obvious teeth marks to your friends the next day but you know they'll know. Especially when Seokmin — the little shit that he is — shamelessly shows off the various marks you'll leave all over him later tonight.)
But you don't think about that right now, any and all thoughts consumed of him, him, and him. You're full. So full. Oh, how you ache to run your fingers across his gorgeous body the same way he's able to yours, sneaking a hand underneath to fondle at your breasts and tug at your nipples. You suppose that can wait, already inching toward another crashing orgasm when he's unable to stay still anymore and starts shallow, cautious thrusts.
"Mm, ah, 'min… Seok… min… "
"'m here baby, you're gonna cum for me already, aren't ya?" He pulls his dick out far enough to see the way your essence glistens and coats his length and then smoothly stuffs you full again. "Go on and cream on my cock, make me yours."
Shockingly you shake your head. "No, too soon!"
"S'kay, I know you can give me another one after. If you let go now, it'll feel even better after. You're still so tight, I can barely move."
You really can't believe you're about to climax so soon again. There's not really a choice to hold it off anyways, especially when his hand moves away from your tits and mercilessly rubs your clit. He could've just fucked your throat raw with how hoarse your voice is now with all the sounds he's drawn out of you.
As you recover from the fuzziness of a second orgasm, he'd taken out his cock that's basically gone numb at this point (he's not sure if that's a good thing or not), and appreciates the delectable view of how your hole has been stretched out perfectly in the shape of his cock to accommodate him so sweetly. It all screams I am Seokmin's and he fucking adores it. And you.
There's only one thing left to do. Paint you with the color white.
"You ready for me?" 
You breathlessly huff out a yes but honestly, you're unsure if you will be able to handle another peak without passing out. Seokmin soothes you, whispering that this will be the last one for this round accompanied by two chaste kisses on each of your shoulder blades. So wonderful and perfect, he reminds and suddenly you can do anything he asked of you.
Which is good because he's finally snapping his hips hard and fast with better ability, drilling into your warm, wet pussy he calls his that confirms that ownership itself with filthy noises of agreement and gushes of more arousal. You moan out a mix of yes, yours, and his name — growing so fucked out that when he asks you where you want him to cum, all you do is feebly bounce your asscheeks against his abs when he refuses to move.
"Shit, you gotta tell me now or I'll… fuck, I'll do it inside. I-I know you're on the pill but… "
"Please…"
"You'd look pretty with it all over your back but also spilling out of your pussy… "
"If you don't cum right now anywhere… I'll cry."
"You're already crying." His thumb brushes at the trail of tears that spilled over your eyelids.
"Seokmin…!"
"'m sorry, let me give you what you want."
His hips resume slamming at a rapid pace, hitting deep within that magic bundle of nerves without fail. Stars swim in your vision and the mind-numbing pressure twisting in your lower gut builds up without warning.
It's a silent scream this time and a peak that doesn't seem to end. As your body violently shudders and shakes for what feels like hours at its intensity, Seokmin's release is triggered. Gently thrusting as you spasm around him, milking his cock as it starts to fill you up with a comforting warmth. In a daze, he's forced out by the end of your explosive orgasm and watches with a slack jaw in awe.
He's managed to leave beautiful lines of white across your ass and back as intended. Though the bit he'd left inside of you is mostly expelled by you squirting and coating his thighs with your release, if he looks close enough, there are still globs of cream left around the outer lips of your cunt that has him groaning.
"This is better than what I've dreamt about."
"Of course. Real thing is always better."
"In this case, yes." 
"… Do you still think I'm sweet?"
"… Somehow, yes."
Seokmin laughs as you collapse flat against the bed. You need to clean up but both of you can afford to rest a little first. He lays down next to you on his side, bringing you into his arms and you immediately snuggle your face into his chest before fixing him with a serious gaze.
"I don't get it."
He stiffens in fear. "Wh-what?"
"You fucked your previous partners, right?"
"Um… most… of them… "
"Like this?"
"Uh… " he narrows his eyes. "What… what do you mean?"
"There's no way they would've wanted to let you go if you got a stroke game and stamina this good. Unless you were just too much of a beast in the sheets — which I could understand."
His arms tighten around you. "I'm sorry, did I go too hard on you? I just didn't wanna cum too fast."
"No, you're insane but it was… incredible. You're the unreal one here."
"Didn't expect that when you harassed me about my abs, huh?"
"I did not harass you and of course not, did you?"
"No, but… I'm glad it did. You… don't…  you don't regret it, do you?"
"No, why would I?" He breathes out a tiny sigh of relief which has you raising an eyebrow but you continue on. "I don't get why they didn't try harder to stick around. I mean you're perfect. In all aspects. I one-hundred-percent mean that."
"They weren't you, though. I'm sincere when I say you've always been the one. I was just afraid…" 
"You're a damn good actor, you know that. I had no idea."
Your favorite smile beams at you. "I did major in theater. And we're both kinda idiots."
You slap at his chest playfully and he covers your hand with his. "I like you too, you know that? Like really mean it when I say I do. Even if you just obliterated my fucking vagina out of existence."
"There's no way, I most certainly did not." He kisses your forehead. "'cause you still have to ride me like promised."
"I don't think I'll be able to."
Your eyes close, ignoring Seokmin's gasp of shock and protests about cleaning up. He can tell you're pretty exhausted and acquiesces, shifting you into a position more comfortable for you to be able to doze off for a bit.
But you take that opportunity to spring to life, sucking the nastiest hickey on his neck right above his silver chain. One that will take weeks to heal. He lets out a moan as you do it and when you back away, the atmosphere has heated up again.
"You're giving me a hard time," he points out with an eyebrow wiggle and you giggle. 
Urging him to roll over, you lug your aching limbs up and over so you can straddle his upper body. Adding more and more love marks and bites on his chest, neck, and arms. It's your turn to stake a hushed claim of mine whispered into his ears that you nip at. And he giggles, loving the attention you're showering him with.
His cock is stirring to life under your ministrations as is another pool of arousal swirling in your gut. Despite the hiss of oversensitivity and slight pain you both feel, you ease his length back inside. Nearly crying out because this new angle means he's stuffed in you even more, you don't know if he can fit until you're gasping in relief once you're successful.
He tentatively brushes his fingers against the bulge that appears in your lower tummy, wanton moans erupting from both of you at the gesture. It sends chills down your spine and you shiver.
"Gonna have to help me move, dunno if I have enough strength to make your dreams come true."
"S'kay, we have forever to act them out again and again," he reassures you which erases your pout. "You'll get used to me with enough practice."
"You think so?"
"Well, we can only test that theory to make sure."
You giggle as he pulls you in for a tender kiss by the back of your neck. "You're naughtier than I could've ever imagined."
"But you love it. You love me." His smug look only grows at your agreeing hum and when he flexes his abs. "Now, shall we see if all the work I put into my abs is worth it, babe?"
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onlyseokmins: February 2023 ©
Taglist: @joshibambi @junhui-recs @pandorashbox @rubyscoups @woozluv @darlingvernon @charcharfairy @httpswonwoosglasses @yeosayang @buffhoshi @horanghae8star @noraehey @misssugarlips @tinkerbell460 @aceofvernons @dejavernon
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littlejuicebox · 3 months
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Beach babies.
Man oh man Dadstarion! My mind could probably come up with a thousand scenarios for this theme.
This one might make you all cry. But like, happy tears? Maybe?
Summary: It’s a day at the beach with toddler Gale, pregnant Tav, and Dadstarion. Gale loves his Papa and always wants to look just like him; this presents a problem.
Tags/Warnings: fluff, light mentions of Astarion ptsd/trauma, in game spoilers, kids, parenthood, toddlers, pregnancy, light angst w comfort, comment if you see anything else I’m missing
*
Astarion didn’t particularly enjoy the beach. It was often crowded, feeling coarse grains of sand stuck between his toes unnerved him, and it was impossible to find a good vintage for miles unless you brought it yourself.
Which, today, he did.
“Loving the sun and loving the beach are two different things, entirely, my sweet.” The elf drawls as he takes a sip of wine from his goblet.
You, Astarion, and almost-three-year old Gale are all sitting on a woven blanket inside a rather ostentatious canopy tent, taking a respite from playing in the water with the toddler. The canopy had been Astarion’s choice — he’d refused to have any beach days without it this year. As it was Gale’s last summer as an only child, and your first born adored the beach, you’d reluctantly agreed to the ridiculous shelter in exchange for two more planned beach days on behalf of your toddler.
Astarion remarked that perhaps you should have used your strong negotiation skills rather than your community service as the main focus of your political platform all those years ago.
And then you won the familial negotiation. Though you still think your old camp tent would have sufficed just fine.
You sigh at your husband, “I suppose. But I seem to remember you being quite content with rolling around in the dirt once upon a time.”
You’re watching Gale as he scoops sand into a bucket. His face is covered in the remnants of fruit juice from his lunch, and his little silver curls are bouncing around in the wind. He’s wearing a thin, white cotton shirt and striped cotton swim trousers — the outfit is basically a child’s version of your husband’s.
Daddy and his mini-me.
Astarion chuckles, “Yes, well… we didn’t have much choice in the matter back then, did we, little love. And for the thousandth time, I did have a blanket set up in that clearing—“
“I never saw it!” You interject, “So for all I know, you’ve simply decided to tell me that to cover your ah— butt.”
A huff from your husband as he rolls his eyes at you, “My love, have I ever lied to you?”
Your eyes narrow, and you open your mouth, about to retort when the elf catches his mistake and is quick to amend his statement.
“Have I ever lied to you after our talk at Moonrise Towers all those years ago?” He asks, cocking his head just slightly, convinced he’s proven his point.
You pause as your mind plays through years of memories. And then you grin playfully, “Yes! The night you proposed and told me you found those gold coins on the dock.”
The elf scoffs incredulously, “You are a pain in the ah— butt. You know what I mean, Tav. Have I ever lied to you to intentionally hurt or manipulate you since then? Or to gain your favor?”
You chuckle and turn yourself slightly — it’s no easy feat, given the size of your pregnant stomach — moving to peck your husband on the cheek, “No, my love. I don’t suppose you have.”
Astarion hums happily as he finishes off his goblet, “Very well then, dear. I trust that means you believe me when I say I did have a blanket in that clearing and you simply couldn’t keep your hands—“
“Mommy! I too hot!” Gale suddenly cries.
When the two of you turn to acknowledge the toddler, he’s thrown his shovel and started thrashing his feet, kicking up grains of sand in the process.
Today was sweltering in comparison to the other days you’d spent at the beach. The canopy was unable to protect all three of you from the worst of the mid afternoon heat.
You sigh and hold your hand out to the toddler, “Gale, come here and let mommy take your shirt off. It’s too hot to be—“
“NO!” The little boy shrieks before standing up and stomping on the sand castle he’d just spent several minutes building, “I want look like daddy!”
“My love, you and daddy will still be in matching pants even if your shirt is off.” You coo, hoping your voice will soothe Gale, though you know the logic is far beyond what an almost-three-year old can understand.
Astarion does not take his shirt off in public. He hasn’t since your days in camp all those years ago, when it had been an unfortunate necessity from time to time. But he always hated it.
His scars are not something Astarion is particularly fond of revealing; even your former campmates have never caught sight of his back since the old days. You know as much. So your only choice, really, is to try and reason with the child.
It’s not working.
Gale is crying now, and his growing frustration is quickly making him overheated. His face and body are both turning red as he wails. Despite the magic dampener around his neck, you both know there will soon be a gust of wind knocking the entire tent down if he isn’t soothed.
“Gale, darling, won’t you please let mommy—“
You’re cut off by a shrill scream. The toddler becomes more red; large patches of crimson are splotched across his face and arms. The breeze is starting to pick up quite suspiciously. It won’t be much longer before—
“Look, Gale! Look at daddy!” Your husband exclaims, and when you glance to the side, you see that Astarion has willingly ripped off his own shirt. The muscle feathering in his jaw shows his discomfort, despite the fact the tent is shielding his back from any potential onlookers.
This catches the little boy’s attention. His green eyes snap open and he begins to relax as he examines his father and realizes the older man is, in fact, shirtless. Gale giggles and then tries to rip his own shirt off, though it gets caught around his neck and Astarion has to lean forward to help him.
The toddler grins at his father, “We match ‘gain, daddy!”
And then he’s back to playing in the sand, the entire tantrum all but forgotten on his part.
You quietly watch your husband, where he is still sitting nearly frozen, clearly working through something in his own mind. He’s wearing that faraway, glassy look in his eyes. The look has become exceedingly rare over time, but still rears its ugly head every once in a while.
Your hand finds its way to Astarion’s, where he’s dug it down into the sand, simply trying to clutch onto something in an attempt to keep himself together.
When your fingers brush against your husband’s, his eyes snap to you, and he’s pulled from whatever thought had been racing through his mind as he threads his fingers through yours. Now he’s clutching onto you.
“You’re a good father, you know.” You murmur, focusing your eyes on your husband’s as you rub the back of his hand with your thumb. A moment of silence passes between the two of you as he simply nods in acknowledgment, unable to bring himself to say anything as he sits in discomfort. Gale is singing happily as he scoops more sand into his bucket, oblivious to the two of you.
You flash a wide grin at Astarion and his eyebrows crinkle as he watches you, not understanding why.
“I think the twins think so, too, daddy.” You whisper, and you bring his sandy hand to your stomach, where the first few flutterings of movement can barely be felt beneath the stretching skin.
For just a moment, Astarion forgets himself as he beams and moves to place a kiss on the swell of your abdomen. Anyone looking at your family might have caught the quickest glimpse of his scars in that single, fleeting instance. But then the moment is gone, and he lays down with a sigh, obscuring his back completely.
“I just did it because I couldn’t be bothered to pitch the tent again if Gale accidentally blew it down, my love.” Your husband says in that offhanded, airy way of his that he uses whenever he’s feeling particularly vulnerable.
And right there, you think that may be the second lie Astarion has ever told you since your discussion at Moonrise Towers all those years ago.
But you’ll let that one slide.
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bunnylovesani · 5 months
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Miss Congeniality
Chapter 4
Content warnings: MDNI, soft dom ani, smoking weed, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, humiliation kink, dirty talk, ani likes getting slapped, aftercare, general smut with fluff
WC: 2.7k
Your last competition marked the end of pageant season, giving you plenty of time to figure out how you were gonna break the news to your parents that you were done with it all. You’d finished high school over a year ago and were now stuck in a rut; what’s next for you? If you weren’t going to college and weren’t competing for any more titles, what did life have in store? You struggled to imagine a world beyond the 4 walls of your room and your plushy pink bed laden with stuffed animals.
You'd gone out with your family last night to the fancy new Italian place- with your pageant victory and Jaden landing his first job since dropping out of college, there was plenty of cause for celebration. It quickly went awry when you made some distasteful jokes alluding to your status as the golden girl; your father didn’t much appreciate your increasingly rebellious attitude and left the restaurant before dessert could be served.
To your surprise, his displeasure didn’t affect you nearly as much as it normally does. When someone’s mad at you, you’re unusually unbearable about it: you follow them around like a puppy who’d lost its ball, whining and apologising until they caved and showed you affection. But not today. How could you when all your thoughts were consumed by someone else? You looked for him everywhere, sitting on the chair at the edge of your bed or round the table at dinner- Anakin’s absence was sorely felt now that you'd grown accustomed to his frequent pop-ins and tag-alongs. You wondered if it would be strange for you to be the one coming over for once.
You'd always imagined him living in either a frathouse hovel or some kind of unsanitary bachelor pad- but standing in front of the steel gates of the apartment complex, you were pleasantly surprised. You punch in the code he texted you when you announced your arrival and the gate doors swung wide open. Climbing into the elevator to reach the 7th floor, your hands feel clammy and there's bile rising up your throat. You'd never visited him before and the fact that you'd invited yourself over on an impulsive whim had you second-guessing everything.
The elevator doors open and he’s right there, leaning against his apartment at the end of the hallway. You wonder if he waited outside for you so that you wouldn't have a chance to turn back at the last minute. Clearly, he knew you better than you gave him credit for.
“There you are. Took you long enough.” He smirked, leading the way into his apartment as you followed behind him like a lost puppy.
As soon as you stepped foot into the place, your nostrils filled with the musky scent of weed, smoke wafting over from the sizeable brown blunt he held between his silver ring-clad fingers.
“It’s barely noon.” You scolded him as you took a seat on his black leather couch.
“Did you come here just to nag me? Maybe you should take a hit, it’ll chill you out.” He plonked onto a bean bag opposite you, spreading his long legs out and inhaling another drag.
“I didn’t come here to get high.” You huff, wondering why you were acting so high-strung when in fact, you weren’t opposed to the idea.
“No, I don’t suppose you would. You probably couldn’t handle it anyway and I have no interest in spending the night babysitting. In more interesting news, I heard you had a fight with daddy last night.” He spat cockily- damn Jaden and his big mouth.
“Bold of you to assume I’d be spending the night. And it’s none of your business.” You cross your arms, slowly filling with regret for coming here. Why was he being such a dick?
“Wow, you’re acting even more bratty than usual. Didn’t think that was possible. Why are you even here?” He puts the blunt out half-smoked, leaving the remainder resting against the ashtray.
“I, I don’t know…I just thought-“
“Let me take a wild guess. You wanted to piss daddy off by sneaking off to see your brother’s older, bad influence of a friend. Thought you’d push some boundaries and try to prove to yourself that you’re not just a stuck-up little good girl. Well, you failed.” He cocks his eyebrows at you.
“I am neither stuck up nor a good girl! Just because I choose to behave myself instead of acting like an animal doesn’t mean I’m not capable of all the things you are.” You feel your blood pressure rising.
“Prove it.”
“Oh and I bet you would just love it if I put out and debased myself for you. All you want is to get me high and fuck me- I know what your intentions are and it’s not gonna happen buddy.” You get up, marching across the room and heading for the door.
“That’s rich coming from someone who screams my name when she cums.” He states matter-of-factly and you stop in your tracks.
“That’s right, sweetheart. I heard you. Acting all high and mighty when you’re the slut here. Admit it, you want me.” He walks towards you and turns you around to face him. Before your brain can catch up with your body, your palm swings around and makes contact with his right cheek, smacking him with the intensity of a whip cracking.
“Feisty. I like it.” He holds his hand up to his reddened face, somewhat shocked but not angry. “Are we done now? I’m really not in the mood to argue.” He smirks at you, pulling you in by the waist and instantly softening your attitude.
“I’m so sorry! Oh Ani I don’t know what came over me, ‘m sorry!” You attentively caress his cheek, inspecting how hard you slapped him. You acted like your reaction was a result of him calling you that word- but if you were honest with yourself, you knew it was because he was right. If you weren’t in denial, you’d realise you loved the way the insult rolled off his tongue and loved how it made you feel even more.
“I’m so embarrassed.” A blush creeps over your cheeks at the thought of him eavesdropping on your most intimate moments.
“Over assaulting me or over touching yourself thinking about me?” He traces his hand along your shoulder.
“Both.” You give him a snarky glare. He was enjoying this too much.
“Well if it makes you feel any better, you’re not the only one who’s done that.” He flashes you a grin before relighting his blunt and scurrying down the hallway into his room.
“Huh, done what? Ani? Not the only one who’s done what?” You follow him down the hallway giddily and stop outside his bedroom door. Blunt in mouth, you see Anakin right before you - taking off his hoodie, shirt getting caught by the tight material and revealing his tanned v-line and happy trail on full display. You couldn’t help but stare at the veins trailing down his lower stomach and leading into his boxers, gulping as you admire the perfect dark blonde tuft of hair growing in a neat line below his belly button.
“God it’s hot in here. What were you asking again?” He asks, folding away his hoodie and taking a long drag.
“Umm, uh it’s nothing. Hey, can I have a puff?” You point at his blunt in curiosity, trying to banish the sinful mental images flashing through your head.
“But princess, it’s barely noon.“ He berates you mockingly and you roll your eyes.
“I was a little tense earlier, ‘m sorry.” You sigh and twiddle your thumbs. “It’s just that I’ve never tried it.”
“Come here.” He beckons you over to his bed and sits you on his lap. “You can try a few drags but only a couple. I don’t wanna see that attitude of yours come out when I cut you off. Now are you gonna be a good girl and listen?”
“Yes Ani, I promise!” You nod along and wrap your arms around his neck.
“Alright sweetheart, here ya go.” He hands you the joint and you take your first hit, coughing and spluttering as a burning sensation spreads through your lungs.
“Ani, this is awful! How can you smoke this?!” You scrunch your face up, disgusted by the strange new feeling.
“That’s because you’re doing it wrong, silly. Inhale slowly, like this.” He demonstrates and you follow his lead, taking a smoother drag this time.
“There you go baby, you’re a natural.” He chuckles and snakes his hand round to rest on your bare thigh. “What kind of outfit is this, huh? Are you trying to seduce me or something?” He snorts, playing with the short frills of your mini skirt.
“No! I just thought it was pretty.” You chirp innocently.
“Pretty slutty, yea.” You gasp and slap his chest.
“Will you stop hitting me?!” He exclaims, digging his fingers into your thighs.
“I will, just as soon you stop calling me a slut!”
“Why, when I know you like it.”
“So do you.” You’d noticed him shuffling around and adjusting his sweatpants every time you’d playfully hit him and you weren’t that oblivious as to what that meant.
“Is that why you do it then?” He says after a little pause, gaze dropping to focus on your parted lips.
“Um…uh, I” You stutter as you feel your panties getting wet and your brain getting hazy- partially from his intense gaze and partially from the blunt.
“Aw, is it getting to you now? I see your eyes glazing over.” He takes the blunt out of your hands and takes another puff himself before putting it out. “That’s enough.”
You’re too busy fixating on his thumb which is rubbing feather-light circles into your inner thigh to notice.
“Stop it, you’re making me feel tingly.” You bat his hand away.
“Oh yeah? What kinda tingles?” He disregards your command and returns his hand to its original position.
“The kind that make me feel fuzzy inside…” You utter in a hushed tone, starting to sway a little now that your high had hit you.
“Lie down f’me babe.” He guides you off his lap and onto his bed. “So you’ve never had anyone help you make those tingles go away?”
“Nuh uh.” You shake your head innocently and he grins, starting to lift your shirt and press light kisses up and down your tummy.
“And would you like it if your Ani was the first?” He looks up at you, speaking so softly you could barely hear him.
You choked out a “yea!” before covering your face with a pillow, embarrassed by Anakin’s insistence on eye contact as he slid your skirt off and started fiddling with the waistband of your pink panties.
“Don’t be shy baby, I wanna see that pretty face of yours.” He groans as he hooks his fingers around your underwear and slides them off before spreading your legs and admiring what’s between them.
“Anii, what are you doing?” You squeal, face burning with shame, barely able to meet his intense gaze.
“Stop squirming, will ya? I’ve been dreaming about this moment for months, let a man take in the view before he dives in.” He grazes his thumb lightly over your clit and lets out a moan. “Goddamn baby, I’ve barely touched you and you’re soaked. You have a habit of ruining your panties, don’t you?”
You whine at his patronising comments, feeling overwhelmed with arousal and embarrassment.
“What a pretty pink pussy…” He mutters to himself and you feel yourself being pulled into a narcotic-induced daze, everything around you growing hazy and numb.
You’re brought back to life when his tongue dips into your folds, licking a wet stripe up your clit that makes your body jolt with pleasure.
“Fuck!” You yelp unexpectedly as your thighs start trembling- you don’t ever swear. He looks up at you as he flicks his tongue repeatedly over your swollen pussy, maintaining a tight grip around your hips to ensure you can’t escape.
“Already shaking, princess? You virgins are so sensitive.” He sneers before resuming his torturously pleasurable routine. You moan and pant as waves of euphoria wash over you like never before. You’d touched yourself a few times but you’d never experienced such mind-numbingly sensual gratification.
Just as you thought the pleasure couldn’t possibly escalate, he pushes one of his fingers inside your tight little hole. You gasp at the intrusion and before you can properly adjust, he shoves another one in until he’s massaging your insides with a beckoning motion.
“Shh, baby. Shh, it’s okay.” He hushes you comfortingly as you squeal and whimper. He resumes tonguing your bundle of nerves as you grab onto his unruly blonde curls, needing something to ground you in case you floated away in ecstasy.
“You taste so good princess…you like my fingers, huh? I can see you do, you’re gushing all over me.” You blush at his crude words as he slaps the side of your thigh and dives back in, continuing to eat you out for what felt like hours. He worked you up to the brink of your orgasm several times- before stopping abruptly, ensuring you were sobbing with pleasure before he even considered releasing you.
“Bet you’re gonna think twice now before coming to my house with that attitude again.” He grunts, silver rings pounding against your pussy as he continues stroking you with increasing intensity.
“Mm, please! Please Ani, please let me cum. You were right, I am a good girl, I’m your good girl! Please daddy, I can’t take it anymore!” You wail, half out of your mind and nauseous with pleasure.
“Daddy, huh?” He smirks, satisfied that he’d tortured you for long enough. “Alright baby, let go for me. Cum all over my fingers sweetheart.”
With one final resounding moan, you cum so hard the world starts spinning and you see stars, glistening brightly and jumping across the room. You take deep gulps of air to try and calm your erratically beating heart as Anakin lifts himself up to lie down beside you.
“Breathe baby, just breathe.” He pulls you into his arms and places his hand in an open palm over your heart. “You did so good. Here angel, drink some water.” Handing you the bottle, you only then realise how dry your mouth feels from the blunt.
“Ani? How did you manage to get it all so wet after smoking?” You ask weakly after taking a few sips.
“Most of that wetness wasn’t from me, sweetheart.” He mumbles into the crook of your neck, before planting a few kisses there. “Do you wanna spend the night here?”
“Mhm! Yea Ani I’d love to!” You chirp sweetly.
“Alright baby, why don’t we get you changed into something more comfortable and then we can watch something?” He plants a delicate kiss onto your lips and gets up to peruse through his wardrobe. “How about this? It’s my favourite band tee.” He throws you a black shirt with a metal band graphic printed across it- you recognise it instantly as one of his most worn articles of clothing and your heart swells with joy. Eagerly, you throw it on and giggle at how oversized it is on you.
“I love it!” You wrap your arms around yourself and take a deep inhale: woody cologne, weed and peppermint gum. “It smells like you too.”
“Oh no I’m sorry, maybe I forgot to wash it- let me get another one-“
“No Ani, I love it! You smell amazing.” You pull him back down into the bed with you and roll on top of him, wanting to be as physically close as possible. “Baby? I feel bad, you made me feel amazing and I haven’t...well, done anything.”
“I couldn’t give less of a fuck, princess. Now, what do you want to watch?” He rolls you over, wraps his arm around you and reaches for the remote.
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bonny-kookoo · 7 months
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Jungkook
𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Helping Hand
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Jungkook isn't kind, or at least he doesn't seem to be. But one look beyond the surface reveals that he's a lot warmer than one might think.
Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, angst, potentially triggering content, mentions of prostitution, fluff??
Length: 2k words
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You're sitting in the command center where Jungkook is busy steering the ship and putting in coordinates, while you're busy staring out the giant rounded window, watching planets in the distance and meteorites pass by, as well as the occasional star flutter around.
Jungkook had offered you to spend time at the command central outside of your room for once- though he made sure to emphasize that 'one wrong move' and he'd put you right back in there for sure. It's a little odd, how contradictive he sometimes is- but you believe it might just be what his kind usually behaves like. You're not sure- you've never even asked which species he belongs to, down the line. He looks like he might be a Bolku, with his color changing eyes and tall build- but he's missing the distinctive pale skin and horns on his head, so you're not sure. Maybe he's of a different kind?
"Do you.." He starts, not looking up from the control panel as he looks at something on the display down at his hands, "..have any hobbies?" He asks, a little awkwardly, but you welcome the attempt at a conversation.
"No." You shake your head. He frowns a little to himself, taps around on the screen.
"No?" He wonders. "Then what did you do all day back on earth?" He wants to know, and you shrug, before looking outside again, watching a large meteorite slowly moving past the large ship.
"Sleep, if there was no work." You answer. "But sleeping a lot can make your head hurt." You giggle. He doesn't seem like he finds it funny, though, as he sighs, sitting down on the actually pretty worn down chair.
"But if there.." he begins, watching something load on the screens in front of him, a soft, gentle pinging sound signaling something in progress as the system scans the ships's surroundings, "..if there was something you could do, to pass time and.. amuse yourself I guess, what would it be?" He wonders, eyes slowly moving up without his head turning at all, greenish blue gaze watching you from his spot at the control panel.
"..I guess, maybe crocheting?" You wonder, thinking to yourself. "Yeah. I saw older people sell those.. small crochet animals on the side of the street sometimes. I think.. I'd like to know how to make them." You say. He scoffs, clearly not impressed.
"That's nothing practical at all." He says. "What about productive things?" He wonders, arms crossed as he keeps looking at you from beneath his lashes, light sometimes catching on the two silver balls from his pierced brow.
"Well I mean- I'd produce those tiny animals?" You try and joke-
and as he scoffs at that, there's the hint of a smile, his head shaking as he returns his attention to the screens in front of him, scan now complete.
You're about to ask him if he himself has any hobbies, when something similar to an alarm sounds, red Warning label pulsating on the large windows to indicate something dangerous. Jungkook is instantly alert, eyes flashing a sharp yellow before they turn red, while he assesses whatever is going on on his control screens. And then, a loud bang and whaling noise can be heard, before the ship moves suddenly, as if pushed side to side by giant waves of water. It makes you fall from the ledge near the window you were sitting on, tumbling down the floor before you hit the wall on one side, shoulder harshly crashing against the edge of a metal console.
And then, it's quiet, only a slight small pinging sound again, while the system checks for any damage.
"Fuck.." Jungkook curses, before he walks over to where you're sitting up now, ship having stabilized again. "You okay?" he wonders, squatting down near you to watch you roll your shoulder before you nod.
"Yeah- just fell. What happened?" You wonder, looking at him, and he sighs, before he picks you up like a ragdoll with his hands under your arms to stand you up again.
"Scanner's got an issue." He shrugs, arms crossed as he walks back to the control panels. "Probably nothing too bad, but we can't fly like this." He grumbles to himself, while playing with the piercings of his bottom lip, eyes an icy and stressed color of turquoise, signaling his inner emotions. "We'll have to stop at the next Ship station to get it fixed." He informs you, and you nod.
"How long until the next planet?" You wonder, now a little worried about the safety of not only you, but the entire ship with the scanner not working properly.
"Not long. Crion is pretty much only a few hours away- I can get it fixed there." He says, and you nod.
It's quiet, except for the low rumbling of the ship and some beeps here and there, before he talks again, awfully soft.
"Don't worry." He says, sitting down in the chair again. "It'll be fine."
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Crion is a pretty, but very, very crowded planet. It's a sanctuary for many different species all across the universe, and it shows in the absolute variety of languages, foods and other items sold on the streets.
"Here." Jungkook tells you, before his hands come into view from behind you, clicking the tracking collar back around your neck. "I really don't want to have to search for you just because you strayed around- so please just try and stay within my sight." He says, clearly stressed about the whole situation.
The ship has a very obvious dent in one of the sides, damage that needs to be repaired before the scanner could even be talked about. You're not quite sure why, to you the dent isn't actually that bad and just.. aesthetically maybe a bit ugly, but you don't question it. Jungkook is the pilot after all- he'll know what's best.
While Jungkook walks over to talk to a greenish humanoid with multiple arms about his ship, you stay close, just like he told you to- though you can't help but look around here and there, loud metal noises and large bird like creatures in the skies making you a little anxious. "My people already looked at damage-" The humanoid alien says, a tablet in one if his four hands, as he taps with one finger. "Scanner B3 and E2 software. Scanner A1 and A2 fluid damage. And big case damage!" He argues, making Jungkook roll his eyes.
"Yeah I already figured that out myself- can you fix it?" He asks, a greenish yellow that underlines his clear suspicion of the person in front of him.
"Fix it I can-" The man says, three eyes suddenly watching Jungkook with challenge. "You can pay?" He asks.
Jungkook grows tense. "How much?" He wonders, and the man uses one of his three fingers to tap away, quickly calculating something in a program.
"Sixteen-" The alien starts, before his eyes move back to look at Jungkook. "-hundred."
Jungkook takes a deep breath, clearly not able to just say yes to that price.
"Is there any way we can push that down?" He asks, and the alien shrugs, putting the tablet away, before he looks at you.
"You can pay with slave." The alien person offers, leaning forward a bit to sniff with his cat-shaped nose. "Very young. I like- can work for us." He begins.
"Okay-" You start without thinking, when Jungkook's head snaps towards you, eyes an angry red.
"Excuse us for a second-" He offers the man, before he grabs you by the back of your collar, pulling you to the side and out of hearing range for the man. "-have you hit your head on the ship?!" He hisses at you, frown on his face as he talks down towards you due to the height difference.
"What? No." You shake your head. "You just- need to get your ship fixed and if he wants me instead of sixteen hundred that's a great deal-"
"I'm not selling you into prostitution just to get my fucking ship fixed, you lunatic!" He growls again, breaking eye contact as he looks around, taking a deep breath. "There has to be a different planet where we can get it fixed-"
"Jungkook it's fine-" You start, but he turns around and stares at you with a gaze so unfocused in it's emotions that it almost looks like his eyes portray every color they can at once.
"No!." He says, pupils flicking from one of your eyes to the other rapidly. "… I don't care. Anything but that. There has to be a different way." He decides, and maybe from sheer shock over his outburst alone, you don't question him any further. "Come." He instead tells you, and you follow obediently, no longer really feeling like going against his word.
"Have decided?" The man says, and Jungkook crosses his arms.
"I'll pay 850 up front." He says. "The rest after you're finished." He offers, and the man laughs.
"You crazy!" He says. "900 up front."
"Okay." Jungkook agrees, before he pulls out a small, phone-like device to transfer the money to the alien mechanic.
"You really not want sell slave?" The man tries again.
"No." Jungkook denies, finishing up the transfer before he puts his device away, and grabs your hand rather roughly, pulling you away from him after making sure to turn around one last time.
"And she's not a fucking slave."
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"I can't believe this is the third time I'm asking you.." Jungkook sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What. Do. You. Want. To. Eat." He tries once more, because true to his word, he's been trying for the past hour or so to get you something to eat.
"Nothing." You say, yet again, almost a little amused by the game you're playing.
Jungkook clenches his jaw, clearly looking like he's either praying to gods above- or like he's really trying hard to contain himself.
"Jungkook you need the money to pay off the ship's repairs-" You start, but he simply tugs you by your hand again to a small, open food stall. "Jungkook-"
"Can I have something to eat for this thing?" Jungkook asks the short man grilling the battered.. fish? You're not sure what it is, but it smells pretty good.
"Hey!" You argue at his choice of words for you, and the man chuckles a little.
"Sure. That'll be five." He mumbles, and Jungkook pays before you can even argue- steaming fried pieces of.. whatever placed in a Styrofoam container that Jungkook puts into your hands.
"Eat." He demands, sitting down on a bench under a small roof with you.
You simply do as he tells you to, biting into the still steaming food, really pretty uncaring as to what it might be. It tastes sort of like fish- a little spicy, but very pleasant. He's simply sitting next to you with his back curved and his elbows resting on his knees, eyes constantly roaming around like he's some guard dog ready to defend at any given point.
He's probably still thinking about how to get the money for the repairs- and you still don't understand why he was so.. aggressively against the idea of just selling you. It almost felt like there was an emotional response to it rather than just regular sympathy for you. But it doesn't matter- because you want to help as well, considering he's been somewhat taking care of you for a little while now.
You poke his biceps before holding out your box with one piece of fish eaten, and the other just having been bitten once. "What?" He asks.
"I'm full." You say. He rolls his eyes, sighs, but takes your scraps anyways, eating them while swing your legs on the bench next to him. You're yawning, clearly tired- and he finishes your food next to you, before he leans back on the bench, and rather clumsily pushes you by your shoulder to lay over his lap, thighs surprisingly comfortably and warm. And after a moment of surprise, you finally put your legs up and use your hands to support your head a bit more-
his own resting on your shoulder, as if to make sure you know he's still there.
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starryevermore · 3 months
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the house of snow (5) ✧ coriolanus snow
the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3
pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 
chapter summary: snow does not like the idea of others playing with his toy.
word count: 2,665
series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later
chapter warnings?: jealous!coryo, pet name (petal), not proofread
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“How does it feel to be Mrs. Snow?” Clemensia Dovecote asked as one of the maids poured you a cup of tea. 
You watched the maid glance at you, curiosity evident in her eyes. Though you trusted your own lady’s maid with much of your thoughts and feelings you thought best to keep hidden from everyone else, you knew that maids in general liked to talk. Or, rather, people liked to talk. You had little doubt that your concerns in marrying Snow had spread throughout the working class. Had it been a mistake to even discuss your feelings, or lack thereof, for Snow with her? Perhaps. But you couldn’t keep silent about it. You had to talk to someone. 
“I am hardly Mrs. Snow yet. I am only engaged, Clemmie,” you said. 
Livia Cardew reached for your left hand. You allowed her to take it. She examined the ring Snow had placed on your finger with much scrutiny. It was a silver band with leaves snaking up to the center, where the silver was molded into rose petals. At the center of the flower sat a large, glittering diamond. Livia loved jewelry and all the finer things in life. She could appreciate a nice ring more than you could. “With a ring like that? The King is making a statement.”
“That I am his?” you clarified. It took everything in you to not roll your eyes. If Livia thought that you were not pleased with your engagement, it would spread through Panem faster than maids’ gossip. Who knew what Snow would do if that happened. Livia nodded. “I was already well aware of his interest, as was the rest of the ton.”
“Perhaps you should remind Lord Plinth of that, then?” Livia said. 
Your brows pinched together. Had she someone found out about how you once argued that you would rather marry Sejanus? Had word somehow spread? You knew Snow would say nary a word about it. At least, you would assume so from how he acted when you only mentioned Sejanus’s name. You tried to think back. Were there any maids or butlers around when you talked to Snow about this? When you talked to your parents? None came to mind, but the mark of a good servant is to not be noticed. (Or so your mother says.) It could be possible that you simply missed them?
You decided to feign ignorance. “Lord Plinth? What do you mean?”
Clemensia laughed. “We all saw how he looked at you while you danced at his mother’s ball! That man looked at you like you were made of diamonds.”
Livia crinkled her nose. “You may as well be, at least compared to him. I can still hardly believe the Former King Ravinstill ever granted that family a title. A dukedom at that! It just wasn’t right.”
You decided to ignore Livia’s ramblings. It was true that the Plinth family did not have the same sort of respect the rest of the ton, who had been born into their titles for generations and generations stretching all the way back to the formation of Panem. It was why your parents were so adamant that you not marry Sejanus. But he was a good, and kind, and gentle man.  “No, that cannot be. Lord Plinth is only a friend. He was the one who told me that…” You stumbled on the word. It felt foreign in your mouth. “…my fiancé was interested in courting me. Why would he do that if he would want to marry me himself?”
“Oh, you poor, naïve thing. It’s a wonder you even got this far in your courtship,” Livia teased. “He was hoping that you would swear off the King and marry him. An act of true love, or whatever the fairy tales say.”
Could that be true? Could that be why Snow was so irate at you speaking of Sejanus? But why would Sejanus ever reveal that to Snow? Snow was so possessive. He would hardly let such a slight go by unpunished. And, yet, Sejanus still lived and breathed. Maybe, then, Snow had deduced this all his own, just as Livia and Clemensia had done.
“Well, it hardly matters now. I am engaged now.”
“If the King is as smart as he was at the Academy, he would marry you soon. To dissuade Lord Plinth from arriving with any last minute confessions that might steal you away,” Livia mused. 
You looked out the window, where Coriolanus the Cat perched. In the distance, you could see the Royal Carriage being pulled down the road. It was nearly time for your daily luncheon with Snow. Though you would always dine at the palace, he insisted on picking you up from your home. To anyone who knew of the routine, it seemed like such a romantic ordeal. A man so desperate to spend time with his love that he would do the silliest things. To you, it was merely another way for him to attempt to control you. 
“That would hardly change anything,” you said. The carriage stopped outside of your home. The coachmen stepped down, then opened the door. Snow stepped out, his eyes immediately seeking yours as he looked up at the window. Despite the distance, you could see the smirk on his face. It made you feel ill. 
“Because you are in love?” Clemensia asked. 
You wondered if Snow could read lips from so far away as you repeated, “Because I am in love.”
Livia looked out the window as Snow walked up to your home. “Do you think he knows about Lord Plinth?”
You blinked. You were wondering the same yourself. However, you knew that this was a question you would probably never get answered. You hardly could even figure out how to talk to Livia and Clemensia about this. How could you ever bring it up to Snow, with his quick temper? “It has never come up.”
“And why would it? I’m sure they have much more…exciting conversations,” Clemensia said with a grin. 
Your heart thumped at the implication. Truthfully, you did not know what happened when a couple were married. Your mother only ever told you that, after the ceremony, the union ended in consummation and that that was where children came from. She always said she would tell you more when you were older, but that day had not yet come. “We…talk about our future together,” you said. 
Clemensia’s grin grew, but before she could tease you further on matters you didn’t have a full grasp on, Snow entered the room. “Good morning, Miss Cardew, Miss Dovecote. Good morning, petal,” he said with a charming smile. “What are we talking about today?”
You opened your mouth to answer, ready to say you were discussing your impending nuptials. You knew that would please him enough to put him in a good mood. But Livia beat you to it.
“Lord Plinth’s infatuation with your fiancé.”
Snow’s jaw ticked. For a moment, you wondered if his mask would fall. But he recovered quickly and said in a teasing voice, “Should I be worried?”
“No, they have deluded themselves into thinking he is interested,” you said, careful to not even refer to Sejanus by his last name. “I told them that it would not have mattered even if he was interested because—”
“Because she’s in love,” Clemensia interrupted, elongating the word “love,” making it sing-songy.
A more genuine smile settled on Snow’s face. His eyes flitted to you. “Is that so?”
But, for as much as you were attempting to placate him, you had to have your fun, too. So, you smiled, and said, “Oh? We were talking about you? My mistake, I thought we were talking about Coriolanus.” 
You picked the kitten from his perch on the windowsill, pressing kisses around his face. He purred, curling up in your arms. For a moment, you thought you saw Coriolanus the Cat look smugly at Snow. But, even if he hadn’t, the annoyed look on Snow’s face was joy enough. 
“She teases me too much with that cat—”
“—our son—”
“—our son,” Snow corrected. “I almost regret giving her the little thing.”
Clemensia laughed and nudged Livia. “They already argue like they’re married.”
“Well, as lovely as this was, we do have a luncheon to attend,” Snow said, holding his hand out for you to take. You moved to cradle Coriolanus the Cat in one arm and slipped your hand into Snow’s. He helped you to your feet, then flashed another smile at Livia and Clemensia. “And do let me know if you have anymore theories about Lord Plinth’s affections. I have to ensure I do not have any competition, don’t I?”
“Oh, stop being silly,” you protested as Livia and Clemensia nodded. 
At that, your mother, who sat quietly in the corner of the room with her sewing, rose from her seat and followed you and Snow out of the home. Since the engagement, she had hardly spoken a word when he was around. A part of you wondered if that was because she no longer felt the need to quiet you since Snow put a ring on your finger. Another part of you wondered if Snow had included her silence in the terms of the engagement. You would, after all, need a chaperone with you until you were actually married, but that did not mean that Snow would want to listen to her protest over every thing you did. 
When you reached the carriage outside, Snow helped you climb in. For a second, you wondered if he was going to ignore your mother. But then he held a hand out for her to take as she lifted herself inside, taking the seat across from you. She had learned after the first luncheon that the spot beside you was to always be occupied by Snow. 
Once Snow took his seat, the carriage began its trek to the palace. You tried to distract yourself, looking out the window and petting Coriolanus the Cat, who was curled up on your lap. But then Snow reached for your hand, which you allowed him to take. From the corner of your eye, you saw your mother wrinkle her nose. You weren’t sure it was inappropriate for him to hold your hand, but perhaps she knew so archaic social rule you were unaware of. Or perhaps she was regretting her scheming, you mused. 
“I do not want you to spend any more time with Sejanus,” Snow said. 
This got your attention. 
You turned to look at him, your brows pinched together. “Because of what was said this morning? Lord…he is a friend.”
“I believe Miss Cardew and Miss Dovecote were correct in their assessment. I do not wish for you to be around him.” At your frown, he added, “At least not until after the wedding. It will only be a month. Give me this.”
“I have given you so much already.”
Snow squeezed your hand, tight. You tried to pull away, but he refused to loosen his grip. He leaned in to you, his breath fanning over your face. You did not like how close he was to you. “I cannot tell if his intentions are pure. I do not wish for you to be harmed.”
“Sejanus would never,” left your lips before you could think of what you were saying.
Snow’s face turned red. “What did I tell you about—”
“He is a friend, Snow. He. Is. A. Friend. You cannot isolate me from my friends—”
“—not your friends. Only him.”
“—just because you have concocted this delusion he is trying to take me from you. Sejanus may act impulsively from time to time, yes. He may not always think matters through. But he is your friend, and he is mine. Do you understand? As far as he is concerned, we are in love. Even if he had been interested in courting me, he would not do anything to hurt either of us. He is not like you.”
“Not like…You are toeing the line, petal.”
“I am not going to stop talking to a friend, even if it is only until we are married, because you are insecure. Snow, have I given you any reason to think that I would not follow our agreement?”
“No.”
“Have I done anything, save for admitting that I once considered marrying Sejanus, that would indicate I have feelings for him?”
“You have not.”
“Then why are you acting like a petulant child whose favorite toy has been stolen away?”
You watched as Snow’s jaw clenched and unclenched. But before he could say any more, the carriage came to a halt and the door was opened. Your mother was helped out first, then you, and finally Snow. He said not a single word as the three of you were led into the palace toward the dining room. Not until you had passed Coriolanus the Cat off to the butler. 
“Join me in the library for a moment, petal,” he said. 
You caught your mother’s eye. Oh, how you wished for her to say something. But instead, she took her seat at the table and said not a word. Sucking in a breath, you nodded. Snow smiled and took your hand, placing it around his bicep. You had half a mind to dig your nails into his arm, hoping that it might hurt him. You were already walking on thin ice, and you could not imagine such an act would go over well with Snow. 
When you entered the library, Snow shut the large, oak doors behind you. Your blood ran cold. He had not done that the last time you visited the library. Had you crossed the line? Had you gone too far? You were not sure if Snow was a violent man. He had spent some months after leaving the Academy as a Peacekeeper. He was certainly capable of violence. But would he inflict it? On you? 
“Snow, I did not mean to—” you began to apologize, hoping that it might placate him. 
If you thought Snow had been too close to you before, it hardly compared to him grabbing you, one hand on your waist, the other on your face, his lips pressed against yours. You gasped, trying to pull away. This was not right. This was not…You were not even sure if married couples kissed this way. You had only ever seen chaste kisses, never something so…animalistic. You weren’t sure if Snow was kissing you more than he was trying to eat you alive. When his tongue darted out, swiping against your lips, you finally managed to push him away. 
“What the hell was that!?” you shouted. “You cannot just, just kiss someone! We are not married, Snow! You promised that you would not ruin me!”
“Did I? I only recall saying your reputation would never be harmed.” Snow reached for you again. You could not find it in you to push him away, not when he had such a crazed look in his eye. “And it will not be, I will promise you that. If I wish, however, to kiss my fiancée in private, I shall do so.”
“You only did this so I would feel guilty if I tried to leave you for Sejanus, which I have already told I would not do!”
“No,” Snow said. “I did this because you drive me mad.”
“Then lock yourself in an asylum. Do not kiss me.”
One of Snow’s hands left your waist. He reached up, caressing your face. When you did jerk away, he pinched your chin between his fingers. “You are to be my wife. You are to be the wife of a king. I shall treat you however I see fit. Do you understand?”
When you said nothing, he pinched harder. “Do you understand?”
“Only if you understand that I will hate you until the day I die.”
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itsmealaiah · 3 months
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hiii so i have a request for a bill smut
so basically bill is a teacher and y/n goes to his class to get some extra credit 😁 if you know what i mean 😉 and bill has dreamt of y/n giving him head and what not. 😨 he also had pictures of her in his desk that he jerk’s off to
🤭 teacher smut 😏
A lil' extra "credit"
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tags/ warnings: teacher smut, y/n being bent over a desk, age difference, begging, cursing, teasing.
if this seems weird please don't read and leave hate ❤️
pairing; teacher bill x fem
Bill's POV:
I can't help but smile to myself as I watch her walk into my office. It's been a long time since she's graced my presence, and I've missed her dearly. Her long, dark hair cascades down her back like a waterfall, and her chocolate brown eyes meet mine for only a moment before darting away shyly. She's wearing that tight, black skirt that hugs her curves in all the right places, and the white blouse that's buttoned all the way up to her neck - almost like she's trying to hide something. Something I know she's not ashamed of.
No, this isn't just any student. Her name is y/n, and she's here for extra credit. But to me, she's so much more. She's the girl who's been the star of my late-night fantasies for far too long. The girl whose picture I keep hidden in my desk drawer, the one I've jerked off to more times than I can count. And now, she's here in front of me, offering herself up like a gift on a silver platter.
"Ah, good morning, y/n," I say, trying to sound professional despite the thunderous pulse in my ears. "What can I do for you today?"
She bites her lower lip, her gaze darting back and forth between me and the floor. "Well… I heard about the extra credit opportunity through some of the other students. I was wondering if I could… discuss that with you." Her voice is shaky, and I can tell she's nervous. I can't help but smile to myself. It's the sweetest sound I've ever heard.
I gesture for her to have a seat on the couch in the corner of my office. As she sits down, I can't help but notice the way her skirt hikes up her thighs, revealing a hint of her black lace panties. My heart begins to race. I take a deep breath and try to regain my composure before I make an ass of myself in front of her.
"Of course, y/n. I'm always happy to discuss extra credit opportunities with any of my students who are interested." I walk around the front of my desk and take a seat. "Now, what did you have in mind?"
She swallows hard, her throat bobbing visibly. "Well… I know we talked about the presentation, but… I was thinking maybe there was something else I could do. Something a little more… personal." Her voice is barely above a whisper, and it takes everything in me not to reach out and touch her.
"Oh?" I ask, pretending to be surprised. "Like what?"
She glances up at me, her cheeks flushed. "I… I could give you a blowjob. Or, you know, let you fuck me… if you're interested." Her words tumble out of her mouth in a rush, and she instantly regrets them. She buries her face in her hands, mortified.
I can't help but chuckle. "Well, that's quite the offer, y/n. But I'm your teacher, and that wouldn't be appropriate." I lean back in my chair, trying to appear nonchalant. In reality, my heart is racing and my pants are starting to feel a bit tighter. "But since you brought it up… I do have something else in mind. Something that might help you out."
I stand up and walk around the side of my desk, positioning myself behind her. She stiffens slightly as I reach around and unbutton her blouse, revealing the lacy black bra I've fantasized about so many times. I palm one of her breasts over the cups of her bra, feeling it through the fabric, and she lets out a soft moan.
"Why don't you tell me what you were doing before you came into my office today?" I whisper in her ear. "Were you thinking about me touching you like this?" I pinch her nipple through the bra, and she arches her back, gasping.
"Y-yes," she whispers, her voice shaking. "I was… thinking about you… wanting you to touch me."
I smile against her back, enjoying the feel of her breasts in my hands. "And how about now?" I ask, tracing my fingers over the lace of her bra. "Are you thinking about that?"
She lets out a shuddering breath, her body trembling beneath my touch. "Yes… God, yes…"
I unclasp her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her breasts spill free, heavy and full, and I can't help but bury my face in them, inhaling her sweet scent. She moans, arching her back further, and I can feel the hardness of her nipples against my cheeks.
"That's it, y/n," I murmur, nipping at her nipple before sucking it into my mouth. "Just let yourself feel it." I slide my hands lower, down her flat stomach and into her panties, feeling the wetness there. She's so turned on, so ready for me. I pull her panties to the side, exposing her wet folds, and rub her clit with my thumb.
"Oh, fuck," she gasps, her hips bucking into my touch. "That feels so good."
I stand up and turn her around to face me, pressing her against the desk. Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me closer, as she grinds against my thigh. I lean down, kissing her roughly, tasting myself on her lips. She reaches down between us, unbuckling my pants and pulling them down, freeing my cock. She stares up at me, eyes wide with need, and I can't help but groan as she takes me in her hand and guides me to her wetness.
"Fuck, y/n," I whisper, my voice hoarse. "You're killing me." She pushes forward, impaling herself on my cock, and I let out a gasp, feeling her tightness surround me. I bury my face in her neck, biting down gently as she starts to move, riding me with a ferocity that takes my breath away.
Her nails scrape down my back, drawing little lines of pleasure and pain, and she leans forward, kissing me deeply. I can feel her orgasm building, tightening around me with each thrust, and I know I won't last much longer. I pull her hair gently, urging her to go faster, harder, until she comes with a shuddering moan, her inner walls milking my cock in the most incredible sensation I've ever felt.
My own release follows close behind, and I groan into her mouth as I come, feeling the hot rush of climax wash over me. She collapses forward onto the desk, panting heavily, and I lean down, kissing her hair as I slowly begin to regain my composure.
After a moment, she looks up at me with a smile that spreads across her face like a ray of sunshine. "That was… incredible," she whispers. "Thank you." Her words send a shiver down my spine, and I can't help but smile back.
"You're welcome," I reply, my voice still hoarse. "But remember, this was just something I thought up to help you out. You shouldn't feel like you owe me anything."
She laughs softly, a delicate sound that fills the room. "Oh, I don't know about that," she says, looking at me through hooded eyes. "I might just owe you a few more favors." And with that, she leans in and kisses me again, her lips soft and hungry against mine.
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