#Exquisite Scenery

[techdriveplay]

Lamborghini Esperienza Giro Oceania 2024 roars into the Apple Isle for an unforgettable Tasmanian odyssey

Automobili Lamborghini welcomed over 40 passionate Lamborghini owners across the Oceania region for the highly-anticipated Esperienza Giro Oceania in Tasmania, marking its first venture beyond the mainland Australia. Set across five fascinating days, the convoy of more than 20 Lamborghini super sports cars and super SUVs embarked on an unforgettable journey, covering over 600km of Tasmania’s…

[tswhiisftteedr]

Wings ☆ Drabble/Really Short One Shot

☆ Adam x Wingless Angel!Fem!Reader :

They were just so pretty, you couldn’t help but touch your boyfriend’s beautiful golden wings. And hey, what was the worst that could happen’ probably nothing too bad, right?

Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Praise & Degradation, Adam is a bit condescending and forceful, but hey, it’s Adam we’re talking about. Oral Sex(Female Receiving), Penetrative Sex, First Time As A Couple. NOT PROOFREAD.

Words: 2330

Ask: Hi! ^^ Omg I saw that your requests are open!! I have one for Adam from Hazbin Hotel. I have a headcanon that his wings are very very sensitive and when you touch them it drives him crazy. Could you please do a Nsfw/ smut headcanon, or scenario with him and his female S/O just hanging out, him eating and she gets curious and touches softly them (not knowing what the affect it)? I hope you have a beautiful day!

Note: Of course!! And thank you, hope you also have a beautiful day/night!! Thanks for the request, right now I’m going to work on my others lol. Hope you like what I wrote!!

☆ more under the cut. ☆

Ever since your ascent to Heaven post-mortem, a sense of exclusion lingered in your heart. Unlike most heavenly beings with wings, you were one of the few soul that lack that part of the brand new heavenly anatomy. While everyone in Heaven remained kind and courteous, the infrastructure, were obvious designed for winged inhabitants. That posed you quite the challenges, especially when you where in need of transportation— the lack of automobiles was your greatest nemesis in the afterlife, as everyone effortlessly soared using their wings they didn’t need them.

Despite a subtle feeling of inferiority, your fascination with wings endured. Their majestic allure captivated you, and the desire to experience the softness of the beautiful contraptions persisted. ‘You just had to feel them!’

And you were determined to do so today, as you had received an invitation from Adam to come over.

Currently, you find yourself enjoying takeout on the expansive balcony of his penthouse. It was nice scenery, a comfy outdoor couch with a coffee table full of food.

As he rambled about his day, you nodded along, your attention solely fixed on the captivating golden wings adorning his sides and back. Sneakily inching closer to him, captivated by their beauty. “—Anyways that chick had a huge rack,” He pauses to take a bite of his burger, “So I guessed even Karen ass bitches can be hot.” he finishes with gulp.

Then you finally had a hold of them, ‘his marvellous wings!’ You were engrossed at their exquisite softness, surpassing any feathers from animals you had ever touched. Lost in the delicate material for about a solid five minutes, it had than dawned on you that Adam had stopped talking. Looking back up at him, you notice he had dropped his burger on the table. Then when you glanced at his face, you noted that he looked ‘different’, if you had to describe it, his face almost looked feverish.

In a blink, you were flipped onto your back and hit the couch cushions, then one of Adam's hands pinned both of your hands above your head.

“Fuuuck, babe! You don't need to get so handsy just because your jealous, you could've just fucking said so instead of acting a little tease, feelin’ me up and all.” He informs you while staring down at your perplexed expression, because, while Adam talked dirty in general, you had  no idea  what  you had done to be a tease in this particular  situation.

While that question spun in your head, Adam moved closer to your ear, his words jolting you out of your thoughts.

“if you were feeling needy, you just had to speak up. You know I would never leave my girl hanging, especially if getting her little brains fuck out is what she wants.” His voice low, full of desire and malice. He then playfully nip at your ear, ‘now who was the tease again?’

“Wait what— Um, Adam, where is all this coming from?!” You speak up, clearly nervous as a result of your boyfriend's statements and how close your bodies were together.

“The fuck you mean? You started this shit.” He begins, slowly sliding his free hand up your thigh. “Getting in my personal space, touching my wings to get me riled up, are you really gonna play the clueless card now you slutty little thing.” His hand now reaching under you shirt. “Think you can mess with me and just act like nothing happened, huh?” He says as he fondles with one of your breast.

“What do mean get you riled up, I barely touch you!?” You speak out anxiously; this was going far beyond anything you had done before. You two would kiss passionately at most, never doing anything remotely close to, 'well this!' It was strange; he almost acted like he did when he was mad, but this was somewhat different.

"Bold lie for an angel, like you wouldn't know— Oh, riiiight, you don't have wings." It had now dawned on him that you were utterly clueless of the affects the soft petting you gave to his wings had on him, and how depraved it made him feel.

"Yeah. I am not sure what I did to you when I touched your wings, but let me make one thing clear: it was unintentional. Seriously, they seemed soft, and I wanted to know how nice they were to the touch. So I'm sorry for making you mad; I should have asked before touching them.” You explain.

"Aww babes, don't worry, you didn't make me mad, and I'll tot's forgive you,"

You briefly relax as he speaks, well that is, until he opens his mouth again.

"Yeah I'll definitely forgive you if take care of my raging hard on for me'." He emphasised his words by grinding himself against you, making you feel his erection, and oh boy! Was he big; his self-appointed title of 'dickmaster' didn't seem so baseless anymore.

Your heart races faster as you feel a wave of panic wash over you. Despite his words, you couldn’t help but feel anxious about the situation. It was a big milestone to you, ‘the first time the two of you would have intercourse’.

You squirmed slightly, attempting to break free from his hold due to nerves but soon realize it was futile with him pinning your hands above your head. "I... I'm not sure that—," you started to say, but before you could finish, he cut you off.

"Shut up and enjoy the ride, babes." He growled softly, taking advantage of your momentary hesitation to quickly roughly kiss your lips. His tongue thrusts aggressively into your mouth, demanding entry while his other hand continues cupping your breast, squeezing and groping roughly. His erection presses harder against your thigh, digging into your sensitive flesh.

Despite your initial protests and confusion, you can't deny the familiar thrill coursing through your veins. You knew better, yet you still arch into his touch, moaning softly against his rough treatment.

As a warning to quit your shifting around, Adam's grip tightens around your wrists, almost painfully so, causing you to whimper in discomfort mixed with arousal.

And when he finally breaks the kiss, his breathing is heavy and labored.

"You like it, don't you?" He asked, his voice low with desire. His hips rock back and forth, grinding against you harder, making sure you felt every inch of his member. "Admit it, Y/N."

"A-adam, please... I—," you pleaded while being out of breath, but your words were cut off by another deep kiss. His tongue forced its way past your lips, exploring your mouth hungrily yet his hand didn't stop its manhandling of your chest. Meanwhile, his cock throbbed painfully against your thigh, leaving a trail of precum on your clothes.

The sensation was too much for you to handle; despite your original nervousness, the thoughts of messing up or not being enough had dissipated, and you couldn't bring yourself to refuse him anymore. You wanted him and he was totally into you.

Plus your body responded to his touch in ways you didn’t expect it to, it was incredibly in tune with his wants. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as he continued his assault on both your body and mind.

Suddenly, Adam pulled away, his breathing heavy and short. "Good girl," he praised, his tone laced with satisfaction. "Now, spread those legs for me."

While being aroused, you still reluctantly spread your legs wide apart, letting him take off your shorts and exposing your wet panties. "Please, Adam," you whimpered, unable to resist his advances any longer.

With a growl of lust, he ripped off your remaining clothes, revealing your naked body to him. His eyes devoured every inch of you—your stomach, to your hips and obviously your beautiful pussy. Without further ado, he leaned forward, his mouth descending upon your navel, tracing slow, hot lines with his tongue before moving lower still. "Mmmm, you smell so fucking good toots," he murmured against your sensitive flesh.

His hands trailed downwards too, cupping your thighs in his palms, squeezing and kneading them. Soon switching to one free hand and one holding down your legs, inching his face to your then and lapping at your heat.

“Adam, what in the heavens are you doing!?"

“Uh, trying to eating you out, pretty obvious babes”

"Yeah, I get that, but like, why?? You always complain about 'bitches being annoying for demanding you go down on them.' when you mentioned passed relationships"

"Oh yeah, I did say that lmao. Honestly, I just feel like it. You look so pathetically adorable; I couldn’t help myself."

“Did— did you just lmao out loud?”

“Do you want me to stop eating you out with all your interruptions.” He threatens.

"No! I mean, I'm alright. Please continue."

"That’s what I thought too, babes," he grinned around your wet folds, sucking and licking at your sensitive spots. His tongue traced along your cunt, flicking against your clit before returning to tease your entrance again.

You moaned softly, your hands grasping tightly onto Adam's horns as he continued to pleasure you. You arched into him, letting out a soft whimper when his long tongue brushed against your G-spot. "Mmmhmmm... More please..." you managed to mutter between heavy breaths.

He chuckled lightly against your sensitive flesh before pulling away slightly. "Alright, alright." With renewed vigor, he returned to his task with even more enthusiasm, sucking harder and faster on your clit while his fingers teased her opening. He could feel your wetness increasing rapidly, seeping down onto his hand.

Your body trembled and shook in response to the intense sensations assaulting every inch of your being; you were close now—very close. Your breathing became increasingly shallow as she fought the impending orgasm building up inside of her. Then finally you reached sweet climax.

Adam momentarily let go of you to undress himself, now cock in hand."Tell me you want it," he demanded between kisses to neck, his breath hot against your sensitive skin.

"I... I do," you managed to choke out, your voice barely audible above your heavy breathing.

"That's my girl," he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. Without warning, he thrust his cock deep inside you, filling you completely. A sharp cry escaped your lips as the unfamiliar yet familiar feeling washed over you. His thrusts were fast and hard, pounding into you relentlessly. Each powerful stroke brought forth a moan from your throat, mixing with his growls of pleasure.

Your body adjusted quickly to his size, accommodating him easily despite initial discomfort. You arched your back against him, meeting his rhythmic thrusts. The sensation was unlike anything you've ever experienced before—it hurt, but in the best possible way. Your chest bounced with each powerful thrust.

As Adam continued to ravish you, his fingers found their way between your legs, rubbing and massaging your sensitive folds. He teased and tormented your clit mercilessly, causing waves of intense pleasure to ripple through your core. After staring at your lower half for a minute, “I should totally get my name tatted on you, like a crotch tattoo or some shit.” he tells you in his usual goofy tone, yet the look behind his eyes seem to say that he wasn’t completely joking. You on the other could only cry out his name between ragged breaths, begging for more.

“That's it, you filthy little whore," he murmured between labored breaths. "Tell me how much you love this, slut." His pace picked up even more, slamming into you harder and faster than before. Your moans echoed around the room as he relentlessly claimed your body.

In response to his demand, you managed to choke out, "I... I love it!" Your voice cracking with desire, filled with honesty despite yourself.

"Good girl." He growled, picking up speed. His hips slammed against yours in a brutal rhythm that left you gasping for air. His fingers continued their relentless assault on your sensitive spots, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. As a reflex you grabbed at his back, well in this case, his wings.

And that action fucked with him so bad. So Adam bit down hard on your neck, leaving a mark that would later turn into a pretty obvious hickey. Blood trickled down your skin, but it only served to heighten your arousal. "Cum for me, babe," he groaned, his voice hoarse with lust. "Let go, don’t think too hard about it"

You were close, so close to the brink of orgasm. The constant barrage of stimulation was too much for your body to handle, and you couldn't hold back anymore. "A-Adam... I'm..."

"That's it, baby," he encouraged you, his words thick with desire. He increased the pace even more, pounding into you relentlessly.

With a loud cry, you release around him, your pussy contracting tightly around his cock as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over you. Your entire body shook with the force of your climax, and sweat trickled down your body, mixing with his saliva and cum.

Adam groaned in satisfaction, following suit moments later, filling you up with his hot seed. Panting heavily, he lifted his head to stare into your eyes, his gaze filled with lust and satisfaction. "That was fucking amazing, shit, that’s why your my fav."

After momentarily going inside to get cleaned up, you had returned to the balcony.

“Shit my burger is cold!” Adam bitches.

“Well what did you expect it was left on a table while being outdoors— Oh, shit, did someone-?” You begin, than the realization of the what just happened hits Locke a truck.

“-Hear us? Yeah most likely, but doesn’t really matter, they won’t do shit about it, well probably.” He says followed by a laugh.

Sometimes you wondered why you were dating someone so irresponsible, but after today, you did have another bullet point to add to your pros list. ‘The dick was good’

Thanks @starlightfire97 for requesting!

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[rennalaqotfm]

𖤓 DRAGONSPEAR | J.V (PART II)

Pairing: Prince Jacaerys Velaryon x Martell Princess! Reader

Synopsys: Upon discovering Aemond Targaryen's alliance with the Triarchy, the Blacks are pushed to the point of desperation. With the war looming over the horizon, they have no choice but to turn to an unlikely ally: House Martell.

Content Warning: Smut (MDNI 18+), incest, step-sibling incest, gangbang (-ish?), nipple stimulation, cunnilingus, fingering, getting caught, mentions of death, alcohol consumption, and a lot of 'fucking politicking,' as King Viserys said.

WC: 5.0k

Series Masterlist

(A/N and taglist at the end of the chapter)

As war brewed in Westeros, the land of Dorne basked in the golden sun and its sweeping dunes. The ravens from House Targaryen had been met with little favour, and House Martell found their desperation rather amusing. 

In the Old Palace of Sunspear, Princess Y/n and Prince Elyas Martell lounged in the Solar, a secluded chamber reserved for their idle indulgence, always with a cup of wine in hand. The space, bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the thin organdy curtains, was filled with the scent of magnolias, a flower that so rarely thrived in the harsh conditions in the desert. 

The siblings had been raised under a veil of extravagance, tasted the rarest delicacies, worn the most exquisite fabrics, and known pleasures that most could never fathom. Yet, they sat in the heart of Old Palace, gazing out at the unchanging arid scenery before them, left with a lingering sense of disillusionment. The world outside their palace walls offered little more than echoes of what they had already experienced, and each new day arrived with the inevitable savour of anti-climax.

The company of the siblings was never without their sworn protectors, the bastard sons of Prince Qoren, Casymir and Leoran Sand, whose presence was like the shadows of the Prince and Princess, mostly unnoticed, but part of them nonetheless. The twins were leaning on the double doors, their golden spears placed against the wall as they listened to the Prince and Princess' idle conversations with a hint of amusement on their faces. 

"Can you believe them, sister?" Elyas licked the wine off his lower lip. He was slumped on the settee with Y/n’s legs resting on his lap. "Asking for your hand through a raven? That boy of three-and-ten from House Briar showed more courage than those Dragonlords," he chuckled, remembering how the young lord showed up by the gates of the Old Palace with nothing more than the promise of a life free from hardships and an heir that will make Dorne even more prosperous than it already was.

"That boy looked like he still fed on his mother's tit," Casymir, the older twin laughed.

Princess Y/n merely rolled her eyes, too tired to jest with them. She took another sip of wine as her eyes lazily stared at Elyas' hands gently massaging her legs. 

"What bothers me is that Father is still taking his time to send ravens back to those Dragonlords," she muttered. "He usually wouldn't bother to respond to any plea for support involving other houses, so it's possible that he might be considering our alliance."

"You read both messages Father sent them, he clearly refused any deal they proposed," Elyas' hands crawled to her thighs, disappearing under the silken fabric of her dress and began kneading her lean muscles.

"Of course he did. He wouldn't want to make it seem like we yield so easily," Y/n traced the edge of her cup with her finger. "Father is many things, but he's not a fool. He knows that they're expecting him to refuse. The longer he plays this game, the more desperate they'll become, and... mayhaps he sees more value in keeping them on edge."

"And what about the Velaryon boy?" Leoran asked.

"What about him?" She sighed, growing irritated as the past few weeks' conversations seemed to circle back to the Targaryens.

"How does it feel to have the future king of the realm seeking your hand?" He asked.

"He's no different from the others. A man is still a man, no matter his title. And so far, they've all shown me nothing I haven't already seen," Y/n’s gaze drifted out the window, her expression indifferent. 

"Be truthful now, sister," Elyas teased, moving his hands even closer to her womanhood as he continued to massage her thighs. "Don't tell me the idea of marrying a dragon rider doesn't excite you."

"Those dragon riders tried to conquer our lands before, why would I want to marry one of them?" She asked with a hint of annoyance, realising shortly how Elyas was just trying to provoke her. She took another sip of wine. Although it was typical for her brother to irritate her on purpose, she still enjoyed the touches that came along with it.

"So you wouldn't even consider marrying him?" He parted her legs slightly, snaking his hand between her thighs as began to tease her clothed slit.

"No," she frowned, growing frustrated as Elyas kept teasing her, knowing all too well how to pull her strings and make her surrender under his touch. 

The twins' eyes were fixed on them, a smirk spreading across their faces as they watched her grind her hips against his palm. Y/n sat up and Elyas got on his knees, hiking up her dress and fully exposing her legs to them. Leoran began to palm his cock through his trousers at the sight of Elyas peeling away Y/n’s undergarments, his eyes never missing the thin string of her arousal that clung to the fabric. He pushed her legs further apart, making sure that the twins could see how her tight hole clenched and unclenched, welcoming even the slightest touch.

"Even if he's the Crown Prince?" Elyas purred. He felt his erect cock painfully straining against his trousers as his fingers sunk into the soft flesh of her ass, pulling her closer to him until her cunt was merely inches away from his face. He was tempted to delve his tongue into her needy hole, yet he resisted and began to nip and suckle on her inner thigh. "Answer me, sister," he demanded, his dark eyes looking up at the Princess.

Y/n huffed at his words, growing impatient as she knew that Elyas was going to keep up his sweet torment until he heard what he wanted to hear.

"Even if he's the Crown Prince," she echoed his words, her skin prickling as she felt his hot breath fanning on her entrance. 

The Prince seemed to have been satisfied with her response as his tongue lapped at her wet folds without a warning, tearing a moan from her as his nose occasionally nuzzled against her clit, making her buckle her hips against his face. 

She lazily tore her eyes from her brother and fixed her gaze on the twins, whose trousers and breastplates were already discarded on the floor, exposing their lean muscles akin to a bronze sculpture. They were pumping their cocks at the sight of her wet cunt being feasted on by Elyas, who was still fully dressed, as he was too lost in devouring the sweet taste of her juices. When the Princess made eye contact with them, they nodded and stood up, understanding her silent command. They sat on either side of Y/n, their cocks twitching as she placed her hands on their thighs. Then she turned to face Casymir, cupped his cheek and stared up at him with half-lidded eyes before leaning forward for an open-mouthed kiss, his tongue swirling around hers. 

Leoran tucked the Princess' hair back, exposing her neck. He began to trail wet kisses from under her ear and stopped at the hollow of her neck as he fondled her breast, teasing her erect nipple with his fingers through the thin fabric of her dress. Still unsatisfied, he pulled the strap down, partly exposing her chest. Leoran pressed his face against the soft flesh, taking in her sweet scent before he brushed his lips against her nipple and began suckling on it like a hungry babe. 

Casymir slipped the other strap off her shoulder, and her dress bunched around her waist, fully exposing her chest. The warm breeze caressed her skin, sending shivers down her spine. Imitating his younger twin, Casymir's lips latched on to the other nipple and pulled, almost painfully, and he released it with a loud pop before repeating his actions. When he was finished tormenting the sensitive bud, he took as much of her breast in his mouth, hungrily swirling his tongue around the soft flesh.

As the twins sucked on each of her tits and Elyas had his face buried in her cunt, Y/n reached down to grab the twins' cocks that jolted with her touch, already oozing with precum. She began stroking their lengths, feeling how the thick veins pulsated against her palms. 

Y/n’s eyes rolled back in pleasure, unable to bear how they feasted on her flesh as if she were a lamb being devoured by wolves. No one in the room was holding back their moans, filling the space with obscene noises. The Solar, which had just been meticulously tidied by the servants, had now turned into a chaotic scene of disarray: cushions from the settee were scattered haphazardly, some thrown onto the ground, whilst their cups of wine had tipped over, leaving dark red stains that seeped into the rugs.

Feeling the fire pooling low in her abdomen, she knew that it was up to Elyas whether she got to cum or not.

"Swear it to me, sister," Elyas stopped sucking her clit, only to slide two fingers into her weeping cunt. "Swear to me that I'll be your betrothed. You and I shall rule Dorne together."

He alternated between curling his digits and pumping them in and out, hitting her sweet spot with ease and causing her to arch her back in delight. At that moment, the Princess only sought the pleasure of her own release. Enslaved with the rush that was coming, she parted her lips, ready to seal the promise.

"I—"

Just before she could finish speaking, the doors of the Solar flung open with a loud crash. 

The four of them snapped out of their trance, their faces clouded with irritation that someone had dared to interrupt the high they were chasing. Ser Domeric Uller, the informant of House Martell, stood unimpressed at the wanton scene before him, already used to the siblings' shenanigans.

"My Princess, my Prince," Ser Domeric began, "Rhaenyra Targaryen is in the Hall of the Sun, and your presence has been requested immediately."

The unexpected arrival of the Targaryens on dragonback had been received as a threat of battle. When the Dornish sails spotted the winged beasts tearing the clouds apart, their hearts pounded with dread. The three dragons shattered the peaceful Dornish skies with their deafening roars, sending shockwaves of terror through the port city of Sunspear. The smallfolk, who had never seen such creatures so close, scattered back to their homes, their fear spreading like wildfire.

Princess Y/n muttered under her breath as she made her way to the Hall of the Sun, trying to compose herself as she had barely taken a moment to ensure she didn't appear dishevelled. Her previous dress had been crumpled, forcing her to hastily throw on another while urging her handmaiden to make her hair look presentable. With each step, she could still feel the uncomfortable cling of arousal on her thighs. She was closely followed by her brother and their sworn protectors, who weren't any less irritated than she was, as they fumbled with their trousers. 

Their youngest brother, Prince Farien, was already waiting for them outside the hall with Ser Domeric, who couldn't stand still.

"Is everything alright, Farien?" Y/n asked the boy.

"D- dragons..." he whispered. "They brought dragons..."

Y/n and Elyas exchanged a look of concern, but her eyes widened, catching how Elyas' chin was still glistening with her arousal. 

"Wipe your chin," she hissed.

Elyas complied, wiping his face with the sleeve of his tunic, staining it in the process. The siblings and the twins stared at each other, ensuring that there was no trace of what had just happened moments ago. With one final nod, Casymir and Leoran pushed the doors open, clearing a wide path for Prince Qoren's children.

The three Martells, adorned in their house's colours and draped in golden jewellery that chimed with each step they took, resembled the radiant rays of the sun. Y/n and Elyas sauntered across the hall with their heads held high, feeling the piercing gaze of the Targaryens they had yet refused to look in the eye. Elyas' eyes swept over the hall with a dismissive air, trying to mask the dread running down his spine as he heard the dragons' deafening screeches nearby for the first time, while Prince Farien ran across the hall and jumped onto his father's lap.

There was no way to read Prince Qoren's expression. How must he have felt at that moment? The Targaryens, their rivals, had arrived in Sunspear unannounced with three dragons, no less, inciting fear among his people and sparking rumours that they had come once again to conquer their lands.

"Father," Y/n greeted Prince Qoren with a quick peck on his cheek. 

Prince Qoren hummed in response as he rubbed his youngest son's back to soothe him. Even at his advanced age of five-and-sixty, Prince Qoren's striking features weren't any less noticeable. If it weren't for the shadows in his eyes that had seen countless battles and tribulations, and his silvering curls that were once as black as ink, he would've been easily mistaken as his son Elyas in his youth.

Y/n perched herself on the armrest of her father's seat, while Elyas casually leaned on the other side. The four Martells stared at the Targaryens, their poised, disinterested stance akin to a nest of vipers, coiled and ready to strike at anyone who dared come too close.

"House Targaryen, you stand before the presence of Prince Qoren Martell of Sunspear, Prince of Dorne; Princess Y/n Martell of Sunspear; Prince Elyas Martell of Sunspear; and Prince Farien Martell of Sunspear," Ser Domeric announced, his deep voice reverberating through the hall. 

Ser Domeric finished introducing the Martells, their faces refusing to betray their racing thoughts, showing nothing more but contempt in their dark eyes. 

"House Martell, you have been graced by the presence of Queen Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, Rhoynar and the First Men; the King Consort, Daemon Targaryen; and Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, the Crown Prince, who have travelled all the way from Dragonstone."

The Targaryens strode to the centre of the hall, followed by three guards who never stopped pointing their spears at them, though that didn't prevent them from exuding the same air of superiority that marked their bloodline. Rhaenyra took a step forward, and Daemon and Jacaerys dutifully bent their knees in reverence to their queen.

A suffocating silence fell over the hall as the Martells remained motionless.

"Bend the knee and show respect before your Queen," Daemon commanded, his gaze defiant against the Martells.

Y/n and Elyas shared a quick look before bursting into laughter, their father joining in until his face turned red. 

"Have you forgotten where you are, my King Consort?" Prince Qoren asked with a deep, mocking chuckle, unbothered by the palpable tension brewing in the hall. "We Martells refuse to bend the knee for you, Dragonlords. Never have, and never will."

Daemon Targaryen's face twisted in indignation, not tolerating the blatant disrespect. Had they been in Dragonstone, their heads would no longer be attached to their bodies. His fingers tightly curled around the grip of his sword, but Rhaenyra's subtle gesture made him stop. 

"Has your independence also prevented you from learning manners, Prince Qoren?" Daemon asked through his teeth. 

"Mayhaps our independence has spared us from the Targaryen's arrogance that comes with sitting on the Iron Throne too long," he raised his cup at him.

"Unbowed, unbent, unbroken..." Rhaenyra recited House Martell's motto, trying to defuse the tension. "Prince Qoren, we are well aware that House Martell has proudly stood on its own. We have respected your sovereignty throughout the years, and we have no intention of disturbing that peace. We did not come here to conquer, but to forge an alliance."

"Yet you arrive in our lands with three dragons, ready to reduce Sunspear into ashes at your command?" Y/n raised her brow, her gaze locked with Rhaenyra's, each daring the other to look away.

"If we intended to burn Sunspear, Princess, we would have done so already," Daemon retorted.

"Oh, so now we're to be grateful we're still alive?" Elyas scoffed.

"Prince Qoren, let me ask you, you would not want history to repeat itself, would you?" Rhaenyra asked.

"Is that a threat?" Prince Qoren asked back, any trace of amusement in his face now gone.

"I am merely stating that once the Greens win this war, they will seek to bring the whole of Westeros to heel, and Dorne will not be spared."

"We have successfully stood our ground in the First Dornish War. What makes you think we can't do it again?" Prince Qoren asked.

"No house will be safe from Aemond's wicked hand, my Prince," Daemon stated. "That boy honours nothing but cruelty, and is seduced by the promise of his own ascent."

"Doesn't sound so different from the rest of you," Prince Qoren scoffed. He reached for another cup of wine, taking a swig before he continued speaking. "Greens, Blacks... What does it matter? Why would we want to get involved in this war in any way, if we could just sit back and watch you burn your own house to the ground?"

As they bickered back and forth, Y/n and Jacaerys shared a look. The Princess couldn't deny the Velaryon boy was rather pleasing to look at, but she already had her fair share of good-looking lords who met the same fate as the rest of her suitors. 

"Prince Qoren," Prince Jacaerys spoke for the first time, "I know that with the history of our houses, it is easy to dwell in the past, but we did not travel all the way from Dragonstone to reopen old wounds. We came here to heal them. We intend to make amends for the past and to forge a new path forward, one that begins with my request for the hand of your daughter, Princess Y/n," he rose from the ground, his eyes defiant.

"And you couldn't come alone, boy? Did you need your mother to hold your hand while you do so?" Prince Qoren chuckled, his eyebrows lifted in mock surprise. "Prudent of you, I suppose. But Dorne has danced with dragons before, and I would sooner sleep with scorpions. However, if it's the hand of my daughter you seek, she will be the one to decide whether or not you are worthy."

Prince Jacaerys clenched his jaw, trying to ignore Prince Qoren's attempts at ridiculing him. 

"I know the Princess must have faced countless suitors and is growing restless about their never-ending courtship, all promising her wealth, power, and lands she already possesses in abundance. But let me ask you, Princess, have any of them offered you the chance to become the Queen?" 

"How bold of you to ask for my sister's hand without first proving yourself worthy," Elyas spoke in his sister's stead, seeing how she didn't seem completely opposed to the Velaryon boy's proposal. "The Princess wouldn't entertain any proposal without a trial by battle, as you may have noticed from the rotting corpses of her suitors in the desert," he taunted the Velaryon boy.

Y/n shot her brother a sharp glance and he merely shrugged back, as if to say that it was his duty to put the arrogance of the Crown Prince in place.

"It's a tempting offer, my Prince, but I don't care much for titles. I'm of sun and sand, and my duties lie here in Dorne," Y/n said, examining the young prince before her. He stood with confidence and poise, yet there was a naive glimmer in his eyes as if he believed his proposal would be accepted without question. "However, if you wish to seek my hand, I won't deny you the chance, but as my brother said, you must prove your courage in battle if you wish to be taken seriously. You've shown me what you're willing to offer, but what are you willing to sacrifice?" She smirked, challenging the young prince.

Jacaerys stiffened at Y/n’s words, feeling the weight of her challenge. He recalled the lifeless body of a boy from House Briar in the desert, just one among countless lords from other houses who were once known for their swordsmanship skills but had been reduced to nothing more than a feast for crows. His expression faltered for a moment, the confidence he had displayed wavering under the pressing gaze of the Princess. He glanced at his mother and Daemon, seeking reassurance, only to realise they also shared the same look of uncertainty.

"I came here to forge an alliance, not to shed blood," he replied, his voice steady despite his heartbeat thundering against his chest. "But if it is courage you seek, then I will show you that I am not one to shy away from a challenge," he said, forcing himself to meet Y/n’s gaze. 

"Very well," the Princess replied, a satisfied smile curling on her lips. "The trial shall commence on the morrow. I trust the Prince is weary from his long journey, so let him rest well."

It was the hour of the wolf, and the unease in the Old Palace was palpable. The restlessness wasn't only confined to its walls as even the smallfolk were on edge, since word had spread that war was imminent. The distant screeches of winged beasts echoed through the night sky, stirring memories of the First Dornish War.

Prince Elyas kept glaring daggers at the back of his sister's head as he followed her to the Council Chamber, where their father awaited them.

"What was that?" Elyas grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to face him. "What happened to not considering his proposal, sister?" 

Prince Farien, who walked hand in hand with his sister, cocked his head as he watched his older siblings exchange words heatedly. 

"Are they going to feed us to their dragons if you say no to the Prince?" He asked, looking up at his older sister. 

"You'll be the first one they'll be eating," Elyas muttered, causing the boy to shudder. 

"Don't listen to him, Farien. I won't let that happen," she cupped the little boy's cheek and glared at Elyas.

"I could see it in your eyes, sister. You were tempted to agree," Elyas kept pressing her, trying to mask the pain in his voice with anger.

"Mayhaps your jealousy is clouding your judgement, brother," she said, continuing her stride and not giving him the satisfaction of engaging with the argument. "The Prince is merely another suitor, like the many lords who have previously sought my hand. It's only fair that I give him the same opportunity as the others."

"Then let me fight for you this time, and once I defeat him I shall finally take your hand like we've always planned. I've waited far too long, sister."

"This isn't your battle to fight, Elyas," she muttered, entering the Council Chamber as Casymir and Leoran remained outside, guarding the doors.

"Father," they said in unison, taking their seats around the golden table. 

Prince Qoren rubbed his greying beard, lost in thought, with an empty cup in hand. Y/n caressed Farien's wild curls as he plopped himself on her lap, his legs barely able to reach the ground. 

"I wish to speak with Y/n, alone," Prince Qoren said.

After a moment of silence, Elyas stood up begrudgingly, never tearing her gaze from his sister, who didn't shy away from glaring back.

"Very well, Father," Elyas replied, taking his younger brother in his arms, and trying to not let his father's dismissal affect him. 

The doors closed behind them, leaving father and daughter alone in the Council Chamber.

"Is something the matter, Father?" She leaned back into her seat, taking the cup of wine that her father poured her. 

"I must admit, I'm at a loss," he sighed, defeated. "Gods... how has everything come to this? These bloody Targaryens have nothing better to do than start wars they can't finish on their own," he sighed as he shook his head. "We always used to laugh at the Old King Viserys, but he would've never allowed this to happen. Twenty-six years! That old man has given us twenty-six years of peace, only to be disrupted by his children's tomfoolery!" he took another swig from his cup, wiping the droplets with his sleeve. "I truly had no intention of taking part in this war, but if the Triarchy is involved, then we are left in an extremely vulnerable position."

Y/n nodded her head, listening intently to her father, already knowing where his argument would take a turn.

"Tell me, daughter. What do you think the Greens offered the Triarchy in exchange for their support?" He asked.

"The Stepstones," she replied firmly. "Up until Daemon's conquest, the Stepstones haven't belonged to anyone. But if the Triarchy ends up getting a hold of it, then they would have the leverage to disrupt our trade routes and invade our territories."

Prince Qoren hummed with satisfaction at his daughter's words. 

"What are you implying, Father?" Y/n asked.

"There is no way out for us in this war, Y/n," he said in resignation. "It only leaves us with two options. Join Rhaenyra, or face the Triarchy once their war is over."

The Princess pursed her lips, refusing to accept either of the choices they had.

"We'd be fools to wage war against the Triarchy," the Princess shook her head. "And if they have the Greens' support, whatever fate befell them in this war could easily become our own. As the Blacks have blockaded the Gullet, they could just as easily set a blockade in the Narrow Sea."

"So that leaves us with—"

"There must be another way. How could you even think of that, Father?" She cut him off, unable to control the anger that was bubbling in her chest. "You wish to aid the house that tried to burn ours to the ground?"

"And you think I haven't dwelled on that already?" Prince Qoren asked. "They're offering us to make an alliance, and we have the upper hand—"

"They want to make us think that. We don't have the upper hand if they're doing it on their own terms, Father. It should be us who set the conditions, since they need us more than we need them," Y/n slammed her fist against the table, standing up, not expecting her father to give up so easily. 

The Princess took a few deep breaths, feeling guilty after raising her voice at her own father.

"Forgive me, Father. I overreacted," she looked down. "I appreciate your trust for only letting me hear your thoughts, but I don't think Elyas nor the rest of the council would take your stance well, either."

"Your brother needs to learn from you. He has a long way to go, but his unruly temper will be his demise."

"Truth be told, we aren't much different from one another," she smiled sadly. "But please, Father. We must tread carefully. I know these are dire times and we can't keep running away from conflict forever, but there must be a way around this."

"Listen to me, my dear daughter," Prince Qoren looked at the Princess with solemn eyes. "Your great-grandsire had told me about the First Dornish War when I was merely a boy of five. He still recalled how his father, Prince Nymor, told the events as though they were a tale of glory. But he saw things differently. He saw things as they truly were. Our people paid in blood, and the sands of Dorne were stained red with the lives lost during those dark years.

When Aegon Targaryen and his sisters came to our lands, they brought a storm of fire and death. Countless were burned alive in their homes as they ran for their lives. The dragons did not distinguish between soldiers and children, between the rich and the poor, and mothers watched their children burn as fathers tried to protect their families in vain.

And yet, despite all this, we endured. But at what cost, Y/n? At what cost did we keep our independence? Hundreds of thousands of lives were lost, families were destroyed, and our lands were left in ruins. The legacy of that war is not just our freedom, but the memory of the suffering our people endured. That is the burden we carry, the price that was paid. 

And if what they say about that boy Aemond is true, if he plans to bring the whole of Westeros to heel, then I fear that'll be the beginning of the Second Dornish War... and as your father, that is something I don't want you, your brothers, and our people to ever live."

Once Prince Qoren stopped speaking, his eyes were filled with sorrow, and Y/n couldn't help but reach for his hand.

"Why are you telling me this, Father?"

"You are to become the Princess of Dorne once I pass," Prince Qoren smiled sadly. "I wish I could carry the burden of this choice, so you won't have to bear its consequences but..."

"Father, I—"

"Tomorrow's trial will determine more than just your marriage with the Velaryon boy. It will shape the future of Dorne. We may well find ourselves bound to a war that is not our own, or face the Greens and the Triarchy, marking the start of the Second Dornish War. I'm truly sorry that you have to bear this burden, but the decision rests with you."

A/N: Hello my lovelies! I want to thank you all for the overwhelming support on this fic. I already have a couple of ideas for Chapter 3, and we will be seeing even more action!

Some of the lines might sound a bit familiar, for example, 'each new day arrived with the inevitable savour of anti-climax,' which is inspired by TGG when Nick was talking about Tom Buchanan, and I thought it perfectly described the life the Martells siblings had been living.

Another one is 'Dorne has danced with dragons before, and I would sooner sleep with scorpions,' which is actually Prince Qoren's reply to Otto Hightower's letter when he was asking for support during the Dance of Dragons (according to the asoiaf wiki).

Also, idky but at first I was imagining Qoren Martell as Mario Cimarro (Pasión de Gavilanes, anyone?) because I can just totally see him playing the role of someone being a super sarcastic bossbitch ruler while having a soft spot for his daughter. I'm curious to hear your thoughts on which actors the rest of the OCs remind you of, especially the twins and Elyas! And if I have time, I might do one of those 'get to know your OC' posts hehe.

If you wish to be added to the taglist, please fill out this form for easier management.

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Until next time ;)

Taglist: @happinessinthebeing @deltamoon666 @dark1paradise @elz-zalarrr @v0dka4a @yohanseyebrowmole @dracaryxzs @ladyofvelaryon @burningwitchobject @lovelyteenagebeard @redtragedyarcade @dragonrider-3000 @labellapeaky @winter-soldier-101

[withleeknow]

moonstruck.

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, angst if you squint; they're in love <3, mentions of menstruation, there's a bit about orpheus and eurydice so you're not familiar you might want to look it up beforehand idk, not as edited as i'd like. not a lot of warnings here tbh it's just pretty mild and mellow saur 🤷‍♀️ (also i don't exactly love this but i hope you'll still tolerate it anyway lol) word count: 4.7k playlist 🎧: moonstruck - enhypen // this is how you fall in love - jeremy zucker ft. chelsea cutler // pansy - taemin // tightrope - zayn

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

Minho is the kind of love that you thought only existed in movies and fairytales. Make-belief, too good to be true, out of reach.

When he rests his head on your shoulder, drifting in and out of sleep like he’s been doing for the past hour or so, you give into the urge to stare at him in wonder. An angel on earth, if there ever was one.

His long eyelashes that you could only dream to have, the slope of his nose, his pink pouty lips, his impeccably sharp jawline, and even his fluffy hair that’s ticking your cheek as you look at him as if you don’t get to see him like this every day. But that kind of beauty is something that demands to be showcased in the world’s most exquisite museum and admired by anyone who comes across it.

Minho is beautiful in every sense of the word.

And you adore him. You do. You love him with every single beat of your pathetic little heart and then some.

Surely, you must’ve saved a nation in one of your past lives to deserve someone as ethereal as him.

Turning your face to the side, you press a kiss against his forehead. The touch makes him stir awake, eyelids fluttering open as he groggily looks around and stretches out his limbs, in the limited space that he has anyway. His sleepy voice asks you, “Are we there yet?”

“Not yet. I think they said we still have about forty minutes before we land. Do you want to go back to sleep?”

Minho shakes his head, covering his mouth when a yawn forces its way out. He straightens his back to his full height sitting down, then slumps against the seat a little bit. He rests his cheek against the top of your head while his hands find one of your own to hold in his lap.

He rubs the skin of your fourth finger for a moment before he eventually stills, lightly snoring again while you look out the window, gazing at oddly shaped clouds and blues and the reflection of the sun on the waters below.

–

After you’ve checked into the hotel, freshened up and readied yourselves to explore the scenery, Minho takes you down to the beach. It’s a little chilly, spring hasn’t yet settled into summer. Even with a light jacket on, you still shiver every time the wind rushes by like it’s playing with the waters. But it’s nice – the sea breeze in your hair and the sunlight on your face, your lover by your side, his fingers intertwined with yours as you walk along the shore together. The blue of the sea almost blending in with the sky where they meet somewhere out there on the horizon. Seagulls flying overhead, families enjoying their relaxing vacation, children playing in the sand way down the shoreline where all you can make out are blurry silhouettes dancing about.

It’s paradise on earth. It’s an escape that you desperately needed. Exhilarated doesn’t even begin to describe how you felt when he told you that he’d booked a Jeju trip for your anniversary.

He’s always been the perfect partner. Always knows just the right thing to do for you whenever you need a pick-me-up. He may not seem like it, but Minho is beyond caring and considerate. He’s a man of few words but he certainly makes up for it with his actions.

“Hey,” he says, pointing somewhere ahead of you. “Remember what happened there?”

“Hmm?” Your eyes try to follow the direction of his finger, until they find a spot where two people are sitting, watching the water in front of them, content smiles passed between lips as they talk animatedly. “Didn’t you confess to me there?”

He smiles as the memory resurfaces in his mind. “Did you know I almost chickened out?”

You two started out as friends way before you got together.

Three years ago, just a few months after you’d both graduated from college, Minho asked you to go to Jeju island with him. You thought it was a little strange – though not that strange since you had been on trips with him before, but it was always in a group setting with all of your other friends. Never just the two of you.

Nonetheless, you agreed. You wanted to get out of the city anyway. You needed a change of scenery to clear your head and to recharge. Everything was starting to become too much for you - being 22 and in limbo. You felt like you kept falling behind no matter what you did. Everyone was moving forward and you were running in place no matter how hard you tried to get out of that slump.

Everyone around you was outgrowing you and your little life, and all you could do was pretend you were fine.

It was one of the lowest you’d ever felt, and you suppose that was why you said yes to Minho’s invitation. A vacation didn’t seem like it would help much, but it certainly couldn’t hurt.

A few days away, with nothing but the sun and the sea to help you get out of your own head.

A tropical paradise and Minho. It wasn’t the end of the world. There were worse things you could think of.

That, and the fact that there had always been something between you and him. Not crazy sexual tension or anything, but just enough of a noticeable spark. An inkling of something that neither of you ever acted upon.

“Did you?” you ask. “Didn’t you plan the whole trip back then to confess?”

“What? No. Why would I willingly do that when you could’ve rejected me? Then I would’ve been stuck in a hotel with you and on the plane ride back.”

You squint at him. “Then why did you take me on that trip?”

Minho shrugs. “Friendship trip to cheer you up.”

Years with him and he still makes you feel as warm as he did the first time you kissed. You gaze at him with what must be the world’s most lovestruck look plastered on your face. You reach up to press your lips to the corner of his mouth, then watch as a blush spreads across his cheeks.

“You did confess though,” you argue.

“Well, yeah, but that wasn’t planned,” he tells you. “You just... We were sitting right there,” he tips his chin toward the same spot again, “and you had my jacket on because you were cold. You were watching the sunset and you looked so pretty. I couldn’t help it. Almost chickened out though.”

You stop walking, and this makes him stop too. Minho glances at you with his head slightly tilted, wearing a puzzled expression.

“You never told me that,” you say.

“You never asked.”

Pouting, you tug him toward you until he’s close enough for you to wrap your arms around his neck. Minho is good, so incredibly good for you that sometimes you can’t possibly fathom how you even deserve him. He never meant to get anything out of it; he just saw that you were struggling and wanted to make it better for you.

Maybe you didn’t do a very good job at pretending, not if Minho could see right through you.

Before him, you had a fear of heights. Not the literal kind, but rather the kind of heights that often accompanies big leaps, big changes. A fear of falling, maybe that would be more accurate. Falling and failing and hitting rock bottom with no way to climb back up. A fear that you would always be stuck with this life forever, trapped in an existence you never asked for. A fear that no effort to escape your reality would be enough, and you’ll always be trailing ten steps behind even if you try twenty times as hard.

You pull him down so you could properly kiss him, your lips slotting together perfectly like he was made for you, like he’s the only person you’re ever meant to kiss in this lifetime. You can taste his smile, minty and happy as he moves against your mouth, his arms sliding around your waist to hold you to his body by the small of your back.

“If I had known,” Minho pulls away slightly, mumbling against your lips, “telling you that would get me brownie points, I would’ve told you ages ago.”

You roll your eyes with affection.

“So all this time,“ he says, “you thought I asked you on that trip just to get into your pants?”

“You did get into my pants on that trip!”

“Let me remind you that I only wanted to do something nice for you. You were the one who almost jumped my bones right then and there after I said I liked you.”

You slap his chest as he throws his head back in a hearty laugh. Minho takes your hand in his once more as he drags you along, savoring the cool sea breeze and the golden daylight dancing on glittering waters before the sun bids you goodbye.

Minho is the kind of love that makes you want to curl up into a ball and ugly cry for an hour straight.

In a good way, of course. In the best way possible.

So that’s what you do, on a fine Tuesday afternoon, sitting on a couch surrounded by three cats as you wait for him to come home, perfectly sheltered from the harsh sun outside.

He returns eventually, toward the end of your crying session. When he sees the pile of tissues on the coffee table, soaked with your tears and snot, his heart nearly falls out of his ass.

Minho drops everything, rushing to you like you’re on the verge of spontaneous human combustion because clearly, this is a normal reaction to have when you come home to a girlfriend who’s been sobbing in the dark for god knows how long.

That, and the fact that said girlfriend doesn’t cry very often. Not by herself and certainly not in front of others.

Doesn’t mean that you’re immune to the occasional bouts of tears whenever shark week closes in, though.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Another rush of tears breaks as you look at him. You wipe your eyes and your nose with the tissue you’re currently holding, before throwing it on the table to join the pile you’ve accumulated.

You launch yourself forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. The sudden force takes him aback, makes him gasp a little.

He freezes as you cling to him like a desperate koala, before his hands slowly land on your back, rubbing slowly, hesitantly, as though he’s afraid he’s hurting you.

“What’s wrong, baby? Why are you crying?”

“PMS,“ you hiccup your answer out, to which Minho only responds with a relieved Ah, his hands now moving more assuredly on your body.

“Anything hurt? Sore?”

“No. Just… missed you today. Love you a lot.”

There’s something saccharine in his gaze when he pulls back and regards you with his big doe eyes, softened and endeared, yet there’s still a twinkle of mischief peeking through the sugary glaze.

He moves to make himself comfortable next to you on the couch but still makes sure to keep a hand on you so you don’t grow impatient.

Once he’s effectively squished between you and the armrest of the sofa, he says, “You missed me so much that you started crying? You could’ve texted me, or called. I would’ve come home sooner, crybaby.”

“I didn’t cry because I missed you. I cried because I love you.”

He pretends to think for a moment. “I honestly can’t tell if I should be offended or not.”

You jab a finger at his ribs.

Sure, the mere thought of Minho brings tears to your eyes sometimes. It’s not really a secret anymore.

There’s something about him, just him, how wonderful he is and how all of the stars in the sky must have aligned themselves to make you and him happen. He’s the love of your entire life, there’s never been any doubt about it. Your other half, perfect for you.

You’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and you’re positive that you will never feel this way about anyone ever again. Your love for him runs so deep, so powerful that it overwhelms you at times, drowns you in nothing but affection for him and only him. A love that spreads like wildfire through your calm and sacred forest.

It’s cliché beyond words, that one day you would be having these thoughts about someone. You used to watch this kind of sentiment romanticized in movies, used to cringe and laugh at sappy lines in books and TV shows though there was always a part of you that longed for that kind of love.

You didn’t talk about it often, not even with the people closest to you. You always found it a little embarrassing to admit that you wanted love. To love and to be loved. There was something so utterly vulnerable in the act of yearning and isn’t it such a scary thing? To be vulnerable? You never saw the appeal in showing someone the deepest, darkest parts of you.

What if they leave? What if you bare yourself to someone and they deem you not worth staying for? How would you come back from that kind of rejection?

You suppose it always held you back - the fear of being open that goes hand in hand with the fear of being left behind. Maybe you have more fears than you’d like to admit.

Then came Minho.

No, that doesn’t sound right.

He didn’t come crashing into your life like a tidal wave and unraveled your every belief.

He was always there by your side, a calming presence that you could lean on when things got tough. A friend, a solid foundation. He’s the relief after every monsoon, the first day of sun after a long and harsh winter.

He saw you for who you were, all the messiest parts of you, and loved you anyway. In spite of your mess? Because of your mess.

He taught you that love isn’t always extravagant gestures and grand declarations that Shakespeare would applaud.

Love is acceptance. Love is staying with you on your gloomiest days and holding your hand through your dreariest moments. Love is lingering glances by the doorway before he goes to work because you’re half asleep but you’re still trying to reach for him even in your dreams.

It’s sharing joys and burdens alike. Reminders to eat and gentle wake-up calls. A photo of you in his wallet, a silly picture of him as your phone’s wallpaper. Giggling with him after he tells a joke not because of the punchline itself, but because his manic chortle is even funnier.

Love is Minho cradling your face in one hand and holding onto your shaking fingers with the other, his steady gaze holding yours, and his voice whispering gently in the darkest of nights, “Your storm is my storm.”

At the end of the day, love is pretty simple. Love is him.

“Do you ever think about Orpheus and Eurydice?”

Minho laughs, the sound vibrating where you lay your head, his hand still absentmindedly rubbing the skin of your waist over your shirt. “No, I don’t think about Orpheus and Eurydice.”

You figured as much.

Your fingers trace invisible patterns on his chest as you hum your acknowledgment. Then you ask, “If it was me, if you were Orpheus, would you look back?”

His hands pause their ministrations, a little taken aback by the question you suppose. Your brain tends to pingpong between the most random things sometimes.

“You know,“ he says with an even voice, though the corner of his mouth still curls upward in amusement. “Other people just ask the worm thing.”

“The worm thing is boring. And we both know you wouldn’t love me if I was a worm.”

“You wouldn’t love me if I was a worm either.”

“That’s true. I don’t like worms,” you agree, chuckling while your boyfriend scoffs. “Answer the question, would you look back?”

There’s no right answer because you’re not expecting a correct response. It’s a hypothesis that can never be tested because you aren’t a nymph and Minho isn’t a bard with the ability to sway all life with his music. It’s a silly thought but it’s one that you’re curious about nonetheless, just to hear what he would say. Why not?

You’ve read many interpretations of the tragedy. In some, Orpheus hears Eurydice stumble and turns to catch her fall. In others, he can’t hear her at all. The story will forever be among your favorites, one of the things that never fails to turn you inside out no matter how many times you mull over it.

Minho is quiet for a moment. You think he’s about to shoot back with a witty retort that he always has up his sleeves, probably something about how he would find a loophole and trick his way out of the deal, or that he would personally fistfight Hades to get you out of the underworld. This wouldn’t surprise you at all.

Instead, he says, “Yes, I would look back.”

But regardless of how you choose to view the myth, the ending does not change. Orpheus always turns around.

He turns around because he loves her.

Minho’s fingers slip under your shirt to brush your bare skin, angling his head sideways so he could kiss your forehead. 

Maybe he’s just saying it for the sake of being romantic, for the sake of saying what seems to be the right thing. It’s an answer that you can never give substance to, but you believe him with all your heart.

You believe him. You do.

“If it’s you, I would look back.”

Minho is the kind of love that eclipses the sun and dims the light of the moon. The kind of love that drowns out all the noise and makes everything a little more bearable. Not just the most horrible things – your fears and struggles alike – but even the smallest, most mundane things.

If there’s one thing that you absolutely hate, it’s the smell of nail polish. You hate the way it lingers in the air even after the bottle has been capped, hate how the smell of toluene stains your fingertips even after washing your hands several times with scented soap.

Though, the only time you try to tolerate it is when Minho convinces you to stay in and pamper each other. Pizzas that he picks up for dinner and tiramisu ice cream for dessert. Face masks and fancy candles that you save for special occasions. SoonDoongDori napping on various surfaces in your living room, an old vinyl playing from the record player he got you for your first birthday you shared together after you started dating.

You each take turns doing the other’s nails on the carpeted floor. It’s become somewhat of a tradition that you indulge in every month, where you would spend cozy Friday evenings indoors just because neither of you can be assed to indulge in a “proper“ date night. Being hermits together sounds infinitely more appealing to you than any other alternative.

“I’m not done,” you say, snatching Minho’s hand back after he pulls it away to admire your work. You blow on his fingers to make sure that the layer of black polish you applied earlier is dry, then you’re reaching for a bottle of beige polish sitting amongst the ones scattered on the floor. You take a tiny brush from the nail kit - one that’s rarely ever touched because neither of you knows how to do nail art - and dip it into the sand-colored polish.

“What are you doing?“ he asks, watching as you trace some squiggly lines on his middle finger, the lighter color settling nicely on top of the black even if he has no idea what you’re trying to draw. “What is that?”

“Soonie,” you say simply. “When you flip people off, you can show them Soonie.”

You don’t need to look at him to know that his attention is fixed on you even though he doesn’t give you a response. You feel his gaze on the side of your face, soft and warm and never leaving for even a second. He doesn’t say anything while you work though, maybe he doesn’t want to mess up your concentration while you’re so engrossed in what you’re doing. He only chuckles at your answer, then nothing afterward.

You don’t mind the lack of conversation. It helps you focus better on what you’re doing because you’re no artist by any means. You can’t draw to save your life, let alone master something as intricate as nail art, but this is therapeutic. It’s perfect to help you unwind after a long week - doodling your beloved cat on your boyfriend’s nails while Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls sets the ambience. You’ll get the ice cream when you’re done with your impromptu project, along with a little headache from inhaling too much of the polish scent perhaps, but isn’t that a small price to pay?

You take your sweet time with the teeny tiny details, like Soonie’s delicate whiskers and the darker strips of fur on his face. He still turns out a little wonky, a little lopsided here and there but it’s not like you expected it to turn out like a Picasso.

The real Soonie seems to sense a disturbance in the force when he wakes up from his nap and saunters toward you curiously. You pick him up and sit him in your lap so he doesn’t come too close to the fresh polish on Minho’s nails. “Look,” you say with a proud smile, pointing toward the small cat doodle. “That’s you.”

He studies it for a moment, focused on your portrayal of him but then he’s quick to decide that he’s not interested anymore before wiggling away from your lap to go join Doongie on the couch. You chuckle lightly, watching him as he walks off, wondering if this is what it will feel like when your future children enter their teenage years.

When you turn back to Minho, he’s still staring at you, a dazed look in his eyes as he blinks slowly, his hand resting limply on his thigh.

“What?” you ask. “Do you not like–”

“Marry me.”

The rest of your question dies in your throat, wilting away like cherry blossoms when summer nears. He doesn’t break eye contact, still that dreamy gaze when he peers at you. Nothing has ever changed in the way that he looks at you.

For a moment, you’re too stunned to speak. You think anyone would be when their boyfriend drops a proposal out of nowhere while you’re doing each other’s nails in your comfiest sweatpants.

Everything that you’ve been afraid of comes bubbling to the surface, every doubt, every fear, even every fleeting insecurity. They manifest as a ringing in your ears, a buzzing in your head that makes it hard to think about anything at all.

But then he shuffles closer, closer and closer until his warm breath fans your cheek, his nose nudging your cheekbone gently. It’s similar to what Doongie does sometimes when you’re lounging in bed and he just wants some love.

When Minho takes your hand and laces your fingers together in his lap, everything stills. The rumbling comes to a halt, the distant thunder fading slowly into the background of your mind palace until it’s reduced to mere white noise. “Marry me,“ he says again, and his voice is so tender that you ache. Tender and sweet and so full of wonderful adoration. If you ever have to describe what love sounds like, you would say it’s him and his voice, right here and right in this exact moment.

“A little dramatic to propose just because I drew your cat.”

He chuckles, presses a kiss to your cheek before he ducks down to deliver another kiss on the side of your neck. Then he pulls back, just enough to get a clear view of you and your now glassy eyes.

“Bottom drawer in our bedroom,” he tells you. You can’t lie; you have half a mind to leave him here and go check. “I bought the ring two months ago, but I knew I wanted to marry you two years before that. I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to do it but I realized the perfect moment doesn’t exist, because every minute I spend with you is perfect. I love you so much. It’s not because you drew me my cat, by the way. I think I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you.

“I love your weird brain and your blanket-hogging ass. I love that you’re crazy enough to listen to a song literally over a thousand times without getting bored. I even love you when you set ten alarms in the morning and still manage to sleep through all of them. I know you hate your smile but it’s my favorite smile in the world. Did you know my favorite color is the color of your eyes? The best part of my day is when I get to come home to you and the kids waiting for me. I want all of you forever. I promise I’ll love you twice as much on days that you don’t love yourself. When we’re old and gray and we look like raisins, I’ll let you go first so you won’t have to spend a single day alone. I’ll–” He stops when you let out a teary giggle, no bite in his voice at all when he says, “Please don’t laugh at me during my big romantic speech.” 

It only makes you laugh harder, though it’s just as emotional. If you focus on the other part of his sentence, you’ll only crumble into a million pieces right here.  “How very romantic of you to include the visual of us as raisins in your speech.”

Minho rolls his eyes – fondly, of course. When he pretends to squirm away from you, you tug him back by the collar of his shirt to plant an apologetic kiss on his lips which he eagerly accepts.

“Please continue,” you say, smiling against his mouth. “Tell me all the ways that you’ll love me.”

“You ruined it. I retract my proposal,” he grumbles, but his arms betray his words when they tighten around your frame, holding you close to him to steal another kiss. Then another, and another, until your faces are wet with tears and you realize that you’re both crying.

“I’m sorry,” you say through sniffles and tears. “Please keep going.”

“Make it up to me first.”

“How?”

“Marry me,” he repeats a final time. “I’ll give you a better speech on our wedding day.”

Years and years from now, when you’re old and gray and look like raisins – as he so poetically put it – you’ll remember this moment down to every miniscule detail. How the cats’ peace is disturbed by your tearful giggles and the strange look they give you before wandering out of the room, in favor of somewhere without two crying idiots. How the record starts skipping but neither of you can be bothered to do anything about the obnoxious sound. How the material of his shirt feels when you bunch the fabric in your hands because you need to kiss him, need him to be as close as humanly possible.

You’ll remember the sob that he hiccups when you tell him through choked up whispers, “Yes, I’ll marry you,” and how his lips feel when they tremble against your skin. You’ll remember the way he holds onto you like a lifeline, because he’s always been your salvation for as long as you’ve known him. You’ll remember what happens after, later that night when he finally slips the ring onto your finger. The words he whispers into the crook of your neck, “You mean the world to me,” and the emotions in his voice when you both realize this is the start of the rest of forever.

You’ll remember everything, all of it, every clumsy touch and every graceless kiss. Ugly crying on the floor and yet, it’s more perfect than anything you can ever dream of.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 13.07.2024]

[crazyinluvfix]

DON’T NEED SAVING - a klaus mikaelson oneshot

summary: when klaus brings his girlfriend to meet his family for the first time they don’t exactly welcome her with open arms. namely, rebekah. but as soon as she takes a dagger to her pride she gets ANGRY, and it makes klaus love her even more.

WARNINGS: swearing, depictions of anger / fighting, physical violence ( not domestic )

request: @ranisingsnew

3.7k words

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Klaus swore he would never let his power be dampened by something as frivolous as love - that he’d never be with a woman for more than a fling. He was too good for it. Too strong. Especially to fall for a human.

That was until he met Y/n.

One of his worldly escapades had led him to a place with architecture so beautiful, life so pure, and a certain spark so bold it could capture even him in its wonder.

All of this held his attention so tightly that he didn't even notice what was right in front of him until he hit it. Literally.

His typically sly, dark blue eyes seemed to flash a shade lighter for just a second when he looked up, growing wide at the sight before him. Something even more exquisite and awestriking than the scenery - something he never thought possible. Her.

She looked at him expectantly with an arched eyebrow as his brain practically short-circuited at the smell of the sweet blood beneath her veins.

“I-” he paused. “Sorry, love. Forgive me, I was in my own world,” his stare piercing, gaining back his usual strength after that brief moment of weakness, his signature smirk at home on his lips.

But his face practically dropped in surprise as her’s stayed just as it was; unmoving, unyielding, unimpressed, with arms crossed over her chest as she eyed him up and down.

Klaus felt unusually insufficient under her cold gaze, one that could rival his. He took a step forward, shaking out his shoulders to regain the intimidating presence he was so known for, folding his arms back at her.

“You’re not in a rush, are you?”

The look she gave was incredulous. “That depends, why are you asking?”

This one was feisty, he liked that, he liked a challenge.

His tongue swiped over his teeth with a slight chuckle before speaking again, the lilt in his voice that he used to woo any woman when he wanted to watch them crumble. “I’m new in town, I was hoping you could show me around,” he moved closer, “I’d love to get to know… the place.” A ring-clad hand reached forward to brush a strand of hair from her face.

But she got there before he could.

Her silence was deafening as she mulled the offer over. It wasn’t often that a woman could resist his charms for so long.

“If you’re so desperate to be in my company then fine. You can tag along but I’m not gonna be your little tour guide.”

The stark contrast between her sweet appearance and her fierce attitude was beyond alluring.

Klaus was willing to take anything he could get, feeling more like a lost puppy than he had in over 1000 years, and he was on her leash.

For days he managed to seek her out, every chance he got.

It was a means to an end, the usual end. At least, that’s what he told himself

But the less she fell victim to his charms, the more he was weirdly captured by hers.

Compulsion didn’t seem to work either - did she really make him so weak that he couldn’t perform such a basic function?

Instead, when she got defensive to his advances, it was like she put a spell on him of her own. She wasn’t a witch, but her mind games felt more powerful than any that he had met.

“What do you say we go and get a little drink, huh?” he leaned forward and looked into her eyes, waiting for her pupils to dilate so he could have her right where he wanted her.

“What are you doing?”

Klaus was abruptly taken aback, blinking rapidly as he let out a confused, breathy chuckle. “What do you mean? I’m not doing anything, love,” his eyes never left hers.

“No, that thing with your eyes,” she nodded, dead set on what she saw.

His only instinct was to try again, “You didn’t see anything.”

“There!” she caught it once more, causing him to take a step back; it was safe to say he was completely and utterly perplexed.

“You just did it again! What was that?”

Her eyes seemed to control him instead and he almost stuttered - he never stuttered.

This woman had him - the most powerful man on the planet - wrapped around her tiny little mortal finger.

~

She and Klaus had been dating for a few months now. After weeks of his constant flowers, letters, paintings, and smooth talk she finally gave in. He couldn’t help but think she only accepted his efforts because she had wanted a break from trying to resist them, and this is what she thought at first too; that she’d let him win for a little while, maybe a couple of weeks, and then break it off.

But as the months passed, she too fell head over heels for him. Over this short time he had already revealed everything to her about his supernatural world, he trusted her with his life and knew that she wouldn’t say a word. Klaus hadn’t thought his attraction to her could get any stronger, but he was now the most whipped he had ever been. She was more than his usual affair or snack. She was his soulmate, he was sure of it.

But Klaus was a family man through and through, and he felt as if it was finally time for them to meet the love of his immortal life.

~

“I will never let anything happen to you, you know that, right?” Klaus turned to look at his beautiful girlfriend who sat calmly in the passenger seat of his car - he seemed more nervous than she did.

I simply rolled my eyes and laughed, he was so protective it almost hurt. “I know, Nik. You’ve told me about a thousand times already.”

He just smiled. “I have. But I just wanted to warn you that they’re not always the most friendly bunch - obviously that skipped me.” He tried to end on a quip to ease my mind, something he wouldn’t have thought to do for anyone else.

His family had a very complicated history, and a lot of it revolved around him, so their feelings toward him fluctuated on the daily. It was a fact that he was the strongest; and even though he wasn’t the oldest he was by far the boss of the Mikaelson group. So if any one of them put even one bad word on my name he was more than ready to tear them apart.

I had heard all about the family drama - Klaus was undoubtedly one to gossip - but I knew I could handle anything they threw at me on my own, even if it was from an original vampire.

~

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Klaus turned the key to the ornate wooden doors, swinging them open with his usual dramatics as he took my hand and led me inside.

My jaw immediately dropped. ‘Humble,’ definitely didn’t do it justice.

I had expected it to be nice, but this house was beyond lavish, stunning, massive - not the dark cave many would expect from a bunch of ancient vampires.

Klaus had obviously noticed the look of awe sweep my face because he laughed, that low chuckle he always did that set my heart on fire.

Subtleties in his eyes told me that he was glad I liked it so much. I had heard from many that they found my boyfriend incredibly hard to read, which was actually quite a shock to me because I had pried open the windows to his soul the very moment I met him.

He never freed my hand from his he led us into the main room. “Where are they?” he scanned the area and listened for footsteps upstairs since they did know we were coming.

“Kol! Elijah! Rebekah! Come down!” he shouted throughout the grand house and made me giggle. He really was the leader of the family.

A variety of shouts called back before three figures sped down to the bottom floor.

Two men and one woman. One of the men wore more casual clothes, a jacket over a button-up shirt and some jeans - much like how Klaus typically dressed - while the other wore a full suit at 4 pm on a Tuesday. They both practically scowled at the sight of me, but the blonde girl was the worst. I couldn’t tell if that was how her face fell or if she was purposefully staring daggers through me as if to telepathically wound me with her attitude - she looked like a blast…

Klaus then stepped forward, bringing me with him, a happy grin on his face, “Brothers, Rebekah, this is my wonderful Y/n.” His hand gestured towards me with a softness none of them had seen before, not that they cared.

I noticed how they all seemed to size me up. They were silent, but their mannerisms spoke louder than their words ever could’ve. The vibe that was given off immediately was that I was being judged.

Nevertheless, I chose to be polite, to be the bigger person - you’d think for people who had been alive so long they would’ve had the time to learn manners. “Nice to meet you all,” I offered a warm smile that none of them returned. Tough crowd.

Soon, the awkward introductions were over and we all went to sit in the living room. As we walked over Klaus leaned in close to my ear and whispered, “They’re always a bit cranky around this time,” smirking as he knew that they were vampires and would most definitely hear him. I could not help but let out a small laugh.

Klaus, of course, made sure I sat as close to him as physically possible when we got to the couch, his arm around my shoulder as everyone else sat on the other chairs around the room.

The conversation started light; ‘What do you do for work,’ ‘Where are you from,’ etc.

Meanwhile, the blonde who I now know to be Rebekah had not spoken a word, that was until she shouted out in the middle of my answer to one of Elijah’s questions.

“So, what do you want with him?” she referred to her brother and I could practically feel him roll his eyes behind me.

“Is it his money? Or is it that you want to become like us?” she assumed, the thought making her laugh out loud.

I felt Klaus’ hand tighten around mine and the way his chest rose when he took a deep breath in, “Rebekah.” His tone was strict, warning.

“Shh,” I ran my fingertips over his knuckles, quickly looking back to tell him it was okay before turning back to Rebekah.

“Neither, believe it or not,” my smile was sweet, but also slightly condescending. “I’m with him because we love each other, is that so hard to believe?” I made sure to keep my words friendly, even though I could not help the undertones of my annoyance at her insolence slip through.

“Hm,” she hummed shortly, practically looking down her nose at me from across the room. “It is, actually. Nik has never been one for love, right brothers?” she gestured to the two men for them to back her up, but it seemed like they knew to say nothing.

The scoff that left my lips was very much involuntary, but it seemed to add to her frustration which I admittedly took some pride in. “Hm,” I mimicked her sound, “that’s funny because he seems to love me an awful lot, at first I thought too much,” I giggled and the man in question did too, an effort to keep the tension light while subtly trying to keep her in her place. Which didn’t work.

“Interesting,” she didn’t sound like she cared in the slightest, giving up on making conversation with me and directing her next question to her brother. “It just shocks me, Nik, that you would go for her when you could have any woman in the world. I never thought you’d choose such an… average human.”

Klaus was practically seething, the more she spoke the tenser he got and the closer he approached to his tipping point.

“I mean,” she continued, clearly incredibly amused at both of our reactions, “why don’t you just dump her now and we could all just have a little snack? That’s what your plan is anyway, right? Dinner’s on you tonight.”

My hand stayed firmly on his leg to stop him from getting up, telling him softly that it was okay and that I had got this - I didn’t need saving, not from her.

“Where did you even find this chick?” Rebekah let out a shrill laugh but was quickly taken aback when she saw someone stand up in anger.

And it wasn’t Klaus.

It was an instinct to shoot up, and when Nik brought his hand to mine to get me to sit down I removed it and laughed back at her myself. “You know, you have some serious audacity, Rebekah,” I spat out her name as everyone watched on in suspense, waiting for the incoming catfight.

Her jaw dropped in disbelief, a choked sound coming leaving her throat before she returned, “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh,” I chuckled darkly, “I’m serious alright. You have no right to say anything about my relationship just because you obviously can’t get someone of your own. He’s your brother, you’re not his little lap dog. So hop off my dick little vamp girl and go find someone else’s to ride.”

The longer I sat there and listened to her kick-off, the more strength bubbled up inside of me ready to burst. Now that it was out I felt even better, especially when I saw her expression; eyes wide, mouth open, too stunned to get out more than a few intelligible stutters. Shocked that some ‘average human girl’ could fire back so strongly.

Meanwhile, as I spoke Klaus was watching over, but the smirk on his face was nothing but a proud one. He had to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing at how amazing this was - she usually carried such a sweet disposition, but the fieriness he was seeing now was definitely something he could get used to. He had always been a sucker for confrontation and riling his family up, and the fact that she could add to that made him love her even more.

“You little-” Rebekah spat furiously, slowly going to stand up herself.

I cut her off. “What? What else could you possibly have to say?” I looked at her expectantly, putting my hands on my hips, but she said nothing. “That’s what I thought. Now I see why Nik put you in a box for a hundred years. It’s been what? Fifteen minutes and you’ve already questioned my love, my loyalty, and shouted out death threats. You may be immortal, Rebekah, but you need to learn that that doesn’t make you a God.”

Every word I came back at her with only strengthened the grin on Klaus’ face - he loved his siblings in his own way, but nothing made him happier than seeing his girl stand up for herself and put them in their place. A few times he had to stop himself from getting up and intervening, but he couldn’t. He would’ve stepped in if he could tell this was taking a toll, but deep down he had always known that I was just like him, we were both just having too much fun.

Rebekah looked utterly defeated, clearly not used to having someone push back at her snarky comments so this was seemingly long overdue. So much so that I even earned a smirk and a look of newfound respect from the brother in formal wear, Elijah.

But that’s when blondie had finally had enough.

Within less than a split second, she sped over and grabbed me by the throat, pinning me to the wall at the back of the room and squeezing so my air supply was restricted, my feet dangling just above the floor.

“You dare speak to me like that, you filthy little…” she hissed, bringing her face close to mine and watching maliciously as my eyes grew wider.

But if I thought she moved fast, Klaus travelled at twice her speed in the blink of an eye, rushing to my rescue. His hands made quick work of prying her off of me and shoving her to the wall instead, reaching down to the back of his shoe where his trousers were baggy enough to conceal - and he pulled out a shiny, silver dagger.

I could do nothing but stand there stock still while the scene played out in front of me, the other brothers shooting up too but doing the same as me.

“Don’t you ever speak to her like that again,” his voice was low, yet scarily loud, but that’s not what seemed to panic Rebekah. No, she was focused on the dagger he held against her sternum, the point brushing against her top.

‘You take a dagger to her pride, I take a dagger to your heart.’ Klaus’ mind whirred with anger.

Just as she opened her mouth to plea for her brother's forgiveness or offer some half-assed apology which she would prove false the moment he let her go, he plunged the dagger into her chest. She let out a high-pitched wince as his eyes still burned into hers with pure loathing.

“Now, say you’re sorry,” he snarled darkly - so this was the Klaus I had heard about. Cruel, righteous, formidable. And the worst part; I wasn’t even scared. I may have gasped at the suddenness of his actions, but I could not help the feeling that arose within me when I saw him choose me over his own flesh and blood without so much as a second thought.

She choked on her own words, “I- I’m sorry.” Her eyes never left his.

His hand moved to twist the knife, releasing another squeak from the victim of his wrath. He spoke firmly and finally, as if this was her last warning, “To her.”

That’s when she finally turned her head to face me, “I’m sorry… Y/n.” It looked like it killed her to force out those words, but it was better than being killed again with the dagger that was hairs away from causing her to be put in a coffin for another century.

As soon as Klaus felt she had been sincere enough he ripped the blade out, his face still serious as he wiped the blood off on the fabric of his jacket. “Go,” he said plainly, not even wasting his energy on looking up from his hands. All three of them listened - I assumed that upon his revelation of the dagger (which none of them knew he had so close), they now were thinking only of themselves, fleeing the scene before they met their fates again.

They all vanished in one quick woosh leaving only me and Klaus who had shifted back into my sickeningly sweet Nik once more upon their departure.

I hadn’t even noticed that I had been clutching my chest this whole time, only taking it off when he moved his gaze to me and that wicked look in his eyes softened instantaneously into one that made me feel right at home, hurrying to me to make sure I was okay.

Without having time to even register everything that just happened I was encased in the arms of my saviour, him resting his head on top of mine while a hand moved up to gently stroke my hair. To anyone else, thinking of him acting in such a caring manner after being so ruthless would’ve been unimaginable. But to me? It was all I’d ever known.

“Shh. You’re okay, love,” he cooed before pulling back slightly and cradling my head in both his hands, bringing his soft lips to plant a tender kiss on my forehead.

I looked up at him like he was the only thing in the world; the way he had looked at me every time since the day we met.

“I’m sorry that I exposed you to that part of me, it was something I had hoped you’d never see.” Apologies didn’t come naturally to Klaus… that was, to everyone but me.

Nothing was said, I let my actions speak for themselves as a genuine smile formed on my face and I hopped up onto my tiptoes to kiss him fervently. He seemed rather shocked at the sudden change in tone, but it’s not like he was complaining. Instead, he happily reciprocated my movements, a mischievous, goofy grin left on him in the wake of my lips as I pulled back.

“Don’t apologise,” I shook my head at him in reassurance, “I thought it was sexy,” biting my lip in a teasing manner as I put his racing mind at rest - he truly was such a sweetie behind closed doors. It was honestly a shame the world would never see him the way I did - but then again, that would mean I would have to share him, so maybe it was a blessing in disguise.

His bright blue eyes lit up as I spoke, in a way as if to ask ‘Really?’

In response to his silent appeal for confirmation, I nodded.

“At least you’ve met them now so you finally know what I mean when I complain about my family,” he used a tone much lighter than before now that he wasn’t shouting or apologising.

A laugh escaped me, causing me to quickly cover my mouth, “I guess you weren’t joking, huh?”

Sighing in reply he shook his head in embarrassment, thinking he should’ve never taken me here in the first place. “Come, let’s go somewhere else, somewhere nicer.” His head cocked to the side as he held out an arm for me to cling to, signalling for us both to leave.

My hand graciously slipped forward to meet his request as we walked toward the door, looking up at him one last time. “You’re my hero, Klaus Mikaelson.”

Upon hearing the giggle I let out after my words his smile only widened. “Always and forever, my love.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚

requests in bio x

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[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Airport Chaos.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

blurb masterlist is here.

authors note - seeing how agitated that harry looked when he was just trying to get out of the car actually made me so cross, just be grateful that you got to see him, learn to give people personal space.

word count - 2.5k

in which, harry’s just finished his show in barcelona, and is en-route to madrid, but there’s one more hurdle that needs to be jumped when fans bombard him, you and your one year old son finley. this results in a very agitated harry, a tearful toddler and a wife that’s claustrophobic.

As the car glides through the vibrant streets of Barcelona, a serene ambiance envelops you and your family, casting a veil of tranquillity over the world around you. The bustling energy of the city has retired for the night, leaving behind an exquisite symphony of solitude.

As your car glides along the deserted thoroughfares, the city unveils its timeless secrets. The ancient buildings, guardians of Barcelona's rich history, stand tall and proud, their façades adorned with intricate details and ornate balconies. Illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights, their colors dance in harmony with the moonlit sky, creating a spellbinding kaleidoscope of hues.

The streets, devoid of the usual crowds, are yours to explore, each corner leading you deeper into the heart of this vibrant metropolis. The gentle breeze whispers through the leaves of towering trees, lending a symphony of rustling whispers to the nocturnal symphony. Their branches reach out like gentle arms, swaying gracefully overhead, creating a celestial canopy above the cobblestone lanes.

Occasionally, you catch glimpses of life seeping through the silence. A few solitary figures make their way along the sidewalk, their silhouettes casting elongated shadows upon the ground. Some are still adorned in the attire of a long workday, their weary steps echoing the rhythm of a day well-spent. Others, just beginning their nocturnal duties, are cloaked in the promise of a vibrant night ahead. Their presence adds a touch of mystique to the ethereal scenery, reminding you of the shared humanity that underlies the city's nocturnal tapestry.

The intoxicating scent of the sea lingers in the air, carried by the zephyrs that dance through the city streets. It mingles with the aromas of nearby cafés and restaurants, teasing your senses and igniting a hunger for adventure. The distant echoes of laughter and faint strains of music beckon, hinting at hidden pockets of life that come alive when the sun sets.

The drive continues with you cradling your sleeping one year old son, Finley, in your arms. His tiny mouth remained gently attached to your breast, having drifted off while nursing in the backseat after Harry's exhilarating concert. The rise and fall of his contented breaths provided a soothing soundtrack to the journey ahead.

You, Harry, and Finley were en route to Barcelona–El Prat Airport, preparing to catch a flight to Madrid. The excitement of the concert still lingered in the air, yet a hint of apprehension crept into your thoughts. The prospect of manoeuvring through a bustling airport with a sleeping baby nestled in your embrace weighed on your mind. Your nails became the focus of your nervous energy, as you absentmindedly picked at them, a telltale sign of your discomfort in crowded spaces.

Aaron, the driver, broke the silence, his voice cutting through the air with concern. "There's quite a crowd near the parking area," he informed you and Harry. "It might be a bit tricky to navigate through when we arrive."

The words sent a ripple of anxiety through your body, tightening your grip on Finley. You couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability in the face of such a boisterous crowd. The conflicting emotions swirled within you, knowing that your partner, Harry, thrived amidst the adoring masses that followed his every move.

As if sensing your unease, Harry's gaze shifted from the passing scenery to your nervous gestures. His touch was a lifeline, lifting your spirits and grounding you in his unwavering support. He reached out and gently grasped your hand, lifting it to his lips.

With a voice filled with reassurance and tenderness, he murmured, "M’love, don't worry. Everything's going t’be fine."

His words echoed in your ears, resonating deep within your heart. Harry's touch, warm and comforting, conveyed a sense of security, reminding you that you were never alone in facing your fears. Even though he was accustomed to crowds, he understood your anxieties and was always there to offer solace.

A soft smile danced upon your lips as Harry pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, his lips grazing your skin with tender affection. In that moment, the outside world faded away, leaving only the connection between the two of you—an unbreakable bond forged in love, trust, and understanding.

And as the car continued its journey towards the airport, you clung to the strength and reassurance Harry provided. The touch of his lips upon your knuckles served as a soothing balm, instilling you with a renewed sense of courage and confidence.

The car slowed down as it approached the bustling parking area, the clamour of the crowd growing louder. But in that moment, with Harry's kiss lingering on your skin, you felt a surge of determination. The chaos outside the car could not overpower the love and support that encompassed your little family.

Gently shifting Finley off your breast, you carefully disengaged him, causing him to let out a soft whinge in protest. Worried that he might fully wake up, you quickly began to sway and soothe him, hoping to lull him back into a peaceful slumber. As your soothing motions took effect, his eyelids fluttered, and he settled once again into a deep sleep.

Glancing up from Finley's serene face, you caught Harry's attention. His eyes met yours, and you could see the concern etched in his features. Taking in the scene outside through the tinted windows of the Mercedes, he turned back to you, his voice filled with determination and care.

"I'll get out first, sign a few things, and then I'll come back t’help you and Fin," Harry explained, his unwavering support shining through his words.

As he prepared to step out of the car, a surge of fans already surrounded the vehicle. They clamoured for a glimpse of their beloved idol, desperate to show their adoration. Harry's body shifted, one leg still anchored inside the car while the other extended towards the crowd, his calm demeanour serving as a shield of tranquillity amidst the chaos.

With a graceful balance of firmness and kindness, Harry skillfully kept the fans at a distance, ensuring their safety while maintaining his own. He exuded a rare sense of composure, navigating the sea of adoring faces with a genuine smile and a genuine touch, making each person feel seen and valued.

As Harry prepared to fulfill his promise of signing an album for a dedicated fan, the crowd's energy buzzed with anticipation. He stepped out of the car with a gracious smile, navigating through the throngs of adoring fans who eagerly stretched out their arms, hoping to catch a glimpse of their idol.

Amidst the excited voices and outstretched hands, one fan appeared particularly adamant about getting close to Harry. They pushed forward, disregarding personal boundaries, driven by an overwhelming desire to be near him. Sensing the fan's persistence, Harry raised a hand, creating a barrier between them.

"Chill out, mate," he spoke firmly, his tone laced with a mix of assertiveness and exhaustion.

You observed the situation unfold from the comfort of the car, your heart filled with concern. As the encounter unfolded, you could see glimpses of Harry's fatigue creeping in. The long hours of performing, travelling, and constant interaction with fans were undoubtedly taking a toll on him.

His initial patience and composure began to waver, replaced by a growing agitation. Lines of weariness etched themselves upon his face, and his eyes betrayed a longing for a moment of respite. Despite his efforts to maintain his poise, the relentless demands began to chip away at his stamina.

And as the crowd's clamour continued, you sent a silent message of understanding and support to Harry, hoping he would find solace in your presence. In that moment, you yearned to offer him the calm and tranquillity he deserved, to shield him from the world's demands and allow him to simply be himself, away from the spotlight.

The image of Harry, his hand held up in a gesture of boundary and weariness, remained etched in your mind. It symbolised the delicate balance he maintained between his role as an artist and his own need for rest.

With a resolute expression, Harry addressed the persistent fans surrounding him, his voice carrying a blend of urgency and determination.

"I need to get m’wife and m’son out of the car," he asserted, hoping to convey the importance of their privacy and the need for a moment of respite. “Could y’please step back a little please.”

Some fans responded to his plea, relenting and creating a bit of space, while others continued to plead for photos and autographs. Recognizing the challenge at hand, Harry turned to the security team, issuing a request for them to create a pathway, guiding you and Finley safely through the crowd.

After ensuring that the security team was in position, Harry returned to the car, a mix of concern and weariness etched upon his face. Sensing his presence, you looked at him, seeking his guidance and reassurance.

"Is it okay for us to get out?" you asked, your voice filled with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety.

Harry's gaze met yours, his eyes reflecting the immense love and care he had for his family.

“As okay as it can be," he replied, his voice holding a gentle understanding of the challenges that lay ahead.

Reaching out, he took Finley from your arms, his touch filled with tenderness and protectiveness. As Finley nestled his face in the crook of his father's neck, the exhaustion and overwhelm washed over him, causing tears to well up and spill forth. The flashing lights and the cacophony of the crowd became too much for the little one to bear.

Harry's embrace tightened, one arm wrapped securely around your waist, the other ensuring that Finley was cradled with care. His fatherly instinct kicked in, providing a sense of security amidst the chaos.

As the crowd pressed closer, their excitement reaching a fever pitch, one fan extended a hand towards Finley's tiny arm in hopes of capturing Harry's attention. But the innocent gesture had an unintended effect. Finley recoiled, pulling his arm back with a sudden jerk, his wide eyes filled with fear and uncertainty.

Witnessing your son's distress, a surge of protectiveness welled up within you. Your heart ached for Finley, his innocence disrupted by the intrusion of a stranger's touch. At that moment, the proximity to the airport entrance offered a brief respite, as the number of fans thinned out. However, the incident had stirred something within Harry, a mix of concern and frustration that flickered in his eyes.

Harry, usually known for his composed demeanour, could no longer suppress his emotions. He addressed the fans, his voice tinged with a touch of agitation.

“Please, don't touch m’son," he implored, his words a plea laced with a protective urgency.

Rubbing his hand up and down Finley's back, Harry sought to soothe his distressed son. His touch carried a mixture of tenderness and firmness, a comforting gesture aimed at calming Finley's frayed nerves.

In that fleeting moment, the world seemed to pause, the weight of the situation resting heavily upon Harry's shoulders. The love he had for his son radiated through his touch, as he tried to ease Finley's unease and offer a sense of security amidst the unexpected turmoil.

As you finally made your way into the airport, the bustling atmosphere shifted to a slightly calmer pace.

“I’ve just got to go to the loo, quickly.” Your fiancé told you and the rest of the security who nodded their heads as he quickly handed Finley into your waiting arms. Fatigue and weariness were evident on his face, etched by the demands of the day.

In a tender exchange, Harry spoke softly to Finley, their bond evident in every word.

"I'll be back soon, little one." he murmured, his voice filled with affection and a touch of exhaustion. Finley looked up at his father, their connection palpable even at such a young age.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy for Harry as you observed the tiredness etched on his face. He had given his all on stage, then faced the excitement and challenges of the crowd. Yet, even in his weariness, he remained attentive and loving, making sure to reassure Finley before attending to his own needs.

Leaning in, you pressed a gentle kiss to Harry's cheek, a gesture of support and understanding.

“We’ll be waiting here for you," you whispered, letting him know that you were there, ready to provide the stability and comfort he deserved.

Harry swiftly made his way to the restroom, seeking a momentary escape from the clamour and demands that surrounded him. He entered a closed cubicle, the solitude offering a brief respite from the outside world. The heavy door closed behind him, enclosing him in a quiet space.

Seated on the closed toilet seat, Harry took a deep breath, his thoughts swirling in his mind. The facade of composure he wore for the public began to crumble, revealing a vulnerability that few had the chance to witness. He reached into his pocket, retrieving his phone, and with a trembling hand, he unlocked it.

The screen illuminated with a picture that held his heart captive—a snapshot of you and Finley when he was just born. The memory flooded his senses, the pure joy and love captured in that moment forever etched into his soul. The time displayed on the phone read 12:06 am, a reminder of the countless sleepless nights he had spent caring for his family.

Overwhelmed by a surge of conflicting emotions, Harry's composure shattered, and he silently sobbed. His tears fell in solitude, unheard by the world beyond the closed cubicle. He held his phone against his chest, clutching it over his heart, seeking solace in the tangible reminder of the love that anchored him.

The weight of his responsibilities and the unrelenting demands of fame bore down upon him. Despite his unwavering love for his fans, a sense of suffocation enveloped him at times. Guilt gnawed at his heart as he grappled with the fear that his son, the embodiment of his deepest love, had been placed in harm's way due to the adoration of his supporters.

Feeling the weight of his emotions and the need for comfort, Harry pulled his phone away from his chest and dialled a familiar number. The phone rang, each passing second heightening his anticipation.

Finally, the call connected, and he heard his mother's voice on the other end.

"Mum... I'm sorry. I know it's late, but I just needed to talk to you," Harry spoke softly, his voice laced with a mix of vulnerability and relief. Despite the unwavering support he found in his partner and in you, he longed for the familiar embrace of his mother's understanding.

His mother was one of his best friends, and he knew it was late over in England but he just needed to hear her voice. He knew you would always listen to his thoughts and feelings but there was something about hearing his mothers voice that made him feel better.

Don’t get Harry wrong, this was undoubtedly one of the best tours he had ever done in his life, but he desperately needed a break.

He was craving the feeling of his own bed, with Finley laying against his chest and you laid asleep in his arms.

[hanafubukki]

Summary: “Marry me Lilia Vanrouge! I’ll make you the happiest fae in the world.”

You and Lilia walked through Malleus’ garden. The roses were in peak bloom, making the scenery perfect for a stroll.

The floral scents in the air calmed your racing heart…somewhat.

It’s not as if you were nervous being around Lilia, you dated him for many years now.

It’s more…what you planned to do that made you nervous.

“You seem nervous, my dear.”

“I’m not nervous…just overthinking.”

Lilia hummed. Knowing him, he probably knew something was up but chose to let you come to him in your own time.

You love him.

It was a fact.

Looking at him, amongst the roses. His gaze fond as he took in the nearby flowers. The scenery framing him exquisitely as if he is a work of art that belongs to a museum.

You couldn’t keep your next words in even if you tried.

“Marry me Lilia Vanrouge! I’ll make you the happiest fae in the world.”

Lilia stilled, looking at you in surprise.

You wanted to clam up, but for some reason your mouth didn’t listen to your brain.

“W-well, I’ll make you the happiest fae in the world in the romantic sense! I mean, your sons and Sebek already make you happy in the platonic sense…what am I saying? Why am I saying-”

Lilia burst out in laughter. Your mouth decided to stop sprouting words at the beautiful sound.

You started walking away, feeling shy and embarrassed.

“You know what? Forget what I said. I’ll think of a better one. Oh Sebek is going to-”

A hand stopped you, you looked to see Lilia gazing at you with love that would last centuries.

“Yes.” Lilia pulled you closer to him, his forehead touching yours, “Yes, I will marry you.”

Hiding away from the recently engaged couple, three young men watched the scene with varying reactions.

Silver smiled at the scene before him before sighing at his fellow knight who’s yelling up a storm. Luckily, the barrier Lord Malleus made around them not only hid them, but deafened Sebek’s voice.

“You call that a proposal YN?! Did you learn nothing from the books we had read?! That proposal was the least romantic method you could have gone with!”

“Sebek, father agreed. YN’s proposal was a success.”

“That’s not the point!”

Malleus had a slight smirk on his face, enjoying the unexpected situations you always brought about before an unexpected thought came to mind.

“I wonder if we will hear the pitter patter of tiny feet soon.”

The shining eyes that faced Malleus conveyed how excited they were at such a prospect.

It has been a long time since such sounds were heard.

They all looked forward to it.

As was promised in my poll ☺️💞🫶, hope you enjoyed. 🌺🌸

The need to marry this fae increases ever day 🥹💞 I love him so much.

[absolutebl]

BLs with Strong Historical Elements

Costume dramas, historical BLs, and BLs with time travel or flashbacks to historical locations & times.

These are in order of my personal preference, best at the top.

I Feel You Linger in the Air

2023 Thailand

IFYLITA is an exquisite BL, from filming techniques to narrative framework (much like Until We Meet Again). It's about a gay man from our time who falls into the past, becomes a servant to a noble house, and falls in love with the heir. It turns out this has all happened several times before. Steeped in history and family drama it edges into lakorn (but not as much as To Sir With Love and with way less scenery chewing). This is an elegant and classy soulmates BL... from Thailand which normally doesn't even try for classy. The main couple (both as a pair and as individuals) were excellent, particularly Bright (Yai) whose eye-work acting style is a personal favorite of mine. Pity about the ending. Oh it wasn’t that sad but it wasn’t good either. This show could easily have earned a 10/10 from me except that it fumbled the… erm… balls in the final quarter. Argh. Whatever.

Nobleman Ryu's Wedding

2021 Korea - WeTV

A boy cross-dresses to take his runaway sister's place as a bride to a shy scholar, turns out they like being married. A historical setting allowed this BL to use some seriously old fashioned romance tropes (arranged marriage, evil step-sisters, Cinderfella) but also modern BL stylings like fake relationship & secret identity (drag) plus some cute gay panic. It reminded me of 12th Night more than anything else which just happens to be my favorite Shakespeare play. For all these reasons, I adored it.

(the ghat kiss!)

Tinted With You

2022 Korea - Viki

Fun stylish time travel meets portal fantasy with a likable cast, historical setting, and two actual kisses that mitigate the rough plot and issues around anachronisms.

Word of Honor

2021 China (censored) - Viki/YouTube?

I don’t rec Chinese stuff often, because I believe in censoring the censors, but this show is one of my favorites of the post 2016 censored bromances. It’s two murder-gay assassins (pining sunshine/tsundere), and they are so insanely gay for two boys who will never be allowed to kiss. Tropes include: wuxia, soulmates, paranormal, historical, and fantasy elements.

To Sir, With Love AKA Khun Chai

2022 Thailand - YouTube?

This is a true lakorn (basically Thai tellenovella or soap opera) with scenery chewing performances, especially from the mother characters. Gone With the Wind + Days of Our Lives but gay. That said? I loved it: A glorious central brother relationship (the best, made me cry), het romances, class divide + gay *gasp* main romance - oh my word, the campy drama of it all! Arranged marriage, rebellion, cut sleeves, over-the-top death with curses and regrets, beautiful if inaccurate costumes, secrets unraveling, cover ups, sparkle murder, sex herbs, coils within coils including snakes and murderous green metallic sequins (is anything gayer on this earth?). It’s a WILD ride but it does end happy for our gay boys. A man cries when he finds DEATH GLITTER. Come on! You haffa watch it. That said, like Manner of Death I struggle to rate something on a BL scale when it patently isn’t a BL. So I ended up giving this exactly what I gave that show, 7/10 I enjoyed it a whole lot, but not as a BL.

The Untamed (Special BL Edition)

2020 China (censored) - YouTube

Censored wuxia bromance, amorphous ending. Probubly the best known BL of its kind out of China and responsible for bring many fans to the BL side.

Our Skyy 2: Never Let Me Go

2023 Thailand - YouTube

I was nervous to watch this PondPhuwin vehicle but I liked it a lot! Doomed soulmates + paranormal time travel to fix the past. I’m happy for the outfits and the dancing (if not the singing). It’s not a bad premise and it’s nice to see GMMTV lean into its high production values for a change. I'd adore a full historical starring these two and this was definitely the best of the second series of Our Skyy. I don't think you have to have watched the original Never Let Me Go to enjoy this.

Legend of Long Yang: Rebirth

2017 China

Gaga

Whipping boy trope... literally, servant character takes the strap for the prince, who then makes him his bodyguard and lover when he becomes king. Low budget historical, comes off as kind of cosplay wuxia version of Irresistible Love, but we get (in the credits) an actual kiss, and they both live. So yay for small mercies.

The Director Who Buys Me Dinner

2023 Korea (historical flash backs)

iQIYI

A new employee at a film company encounters a director who claims to have lived 300 years and insists that they have to date (eat, hug & kiss) if baby doesn't want to die. It has a lot of Japanese elements, not the least of which are: an office setting, the fact that every character in this show is unhinged, and a killing of the gays. Featuring a gorgeous & stellar cast, TDWBMD should have utilized them less for melodrama and more for chemistry. This BL surprised me by going there with a lipstick mark AND an actually gay idol. But (you knew there was a but) while it's a unique twist on an office romance it is NOT a unique twist on the doomed red thread trope, resulting in it feeling less than the sum of its parts and ultimately unsatisfying. This might have also had to do with the fact that this was one of those KBLs where I felt how very short it was the whole time I was watching, like I was missing something constantly, in every episode. Worth watching for some but seriously flawed.

First Love Again

2022 Korea (historical flash backs) - Viki

A popular novelist who remembers his past lives meets his soulmate for the third time, only to find she has been reincarnated into the body of a man. This one started out a touch mean-spirited, but we eventually got a good kiss. The confession/rejection scene was justified and the reconciliation and ending was... fine. All in all, the pacing felt rushed and the romantic arc was underdeveloped. They go from like to love to boyfriends in a red hot minute. But that’s par for the course with Korea’s short form. If you don’t mind a heavy does of melodrama in your BL this one has a solid story with a strong concept that’s well acted and produced, making it a classic KBL with better than average chemistry but ultimately a touch forgettable.

Love in Spring AKA Spring of Crush

2022 Korea

This show was all over the place with uneven acting, narrative, and focus (sometimes it wanted to be a slapstick comedy, sometimes a depressing melodrama) which meant no one, actors or viewers, took anyone or anything seriously.... AND it’s a bromance. I was left wondering if SalHyung is now code for “they were roommates” in Kdrama historicals but otherwise largely apathetic and unimpressed. Korea, I now know you can do better. Do better.

Mermaid's Jade

2019 China (censored-esk) - Gaga

Kills the gay.

The Male Queen: Han Zi Gao

2016 China - Gaga

Kills the gay. Schrodinger's BL, both a BL and entirely not one at the same time.

Diary of Heong Yeong Dang

2014 Korea

Kills the Gay

I was gonna do a top 10 list, but there aren't enough by my metrics, so many end sadly.

This post at the behest of @verymuchof thank you for the idea!

Dated April 2023, includes only BLs that had finished their run by that date. Not responsible for cool costume flix that come after that. But you should check the comments to see if any have been added by others!

I might have missed a few that only have time historical elements since I don't always track those.

Also I would like to point out a decided lack of Japan on this list. My ninja yaoi consuming tiny past self is VERY upset about this void.

WHERE ARE MY GAY NINJAS??!!!

(source)

[latenightdaydreams]

Please can you write about ex boyfriend Konig can't moved on from reader. He sneaked in her house and raped her. She resist him at first but then he just dicks her down.

You Can't Leave Me (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, rape, stalking, toxic ex, p in v, oral

1.8k word count

🚫

.

.

It’s now been eight months since you’ve broken up with König. When you found out about the trackers he put on your phone and car, it was just the straw that broke the camel's back. Since then, you’ve moved into your own apartment an hour away from König. Your phone number has been changed along with all social media deactivated.

The last several months have been hard, but you’ve been pushing through so well. Too well, actually. König never lost track of you. He knows your new address, phone number, job, and schedule. You changed your scenery, but not who you are. So, when you left one day, he knew where to look.

Of course, you move to your favorite city. You know König hates the city. He never wanted to move here. You move into the apartment that is only ten minutes from a bookstore, one that you become a frequent customer of quickly. König knows you like the back of his hand. There is no escaping him.

One thing he didn’t expect was you finding someone so quickly. It’s only been eight months. You were together for five years. It should take you longer to move on before realizing there is no one else for you. What the fuck is this?

König walks behind you at a distance as you walk to your date. Wearing a yellow summer dress compliments your body, paired with white sandals. Is that…make-up? That’s not right, you don’t wear make-up; you don’t need it. You’re so naturally beautiful. 

He watches you walk into a café. A very handsome brunette man stands and hugs you. His hand resting above your ass, comfortable with your body as if he’s touched it already. When did he miss this? He glares at the two of you before walking away and going to your apartment.

While you’re out on your nice little date, König breaks into your apartment. Not really breaking in when he finds your spare and uses it, right? He enters your apartment for the first time, taking a deep breath. It smells just like you.

König walks throughout your home, looking at the new photos on the wall of your city friends. One of you with this new guy. He knocks it over. He continues on to your bedroom, seeing your bed is messy; you never make it. His eyes drift to the floor where he sees a pair of black underwear. With little thought, he stands and walks to them. A little white stain, you were aroused? By what? Who?

König lifts the underwear under his mask and to his nose, taking in a deep breath. Exquisite. He shoves the underwear into his pocket and keeps looking. Stepping into your bathroom, he turns the light on. His eyes fall to a little purple case near the sink. It can’t be. Is his little Schatz on birth control?

A sharp stinging feeling deep in his gut travels up to his heart. The mental image of that pathetic worthless man going raw into his Kleine Perle disgust him. You’re whoring yourself out, he knew you’d be lost without him.

He turns the light off and sits on the toilet, pulling out your panties to sniff while he waits for you. An hour passes and he began to grow worried that maybe you went back home with that loser. Right as he was going to check his phone, he hears your keys in the door.

You enter your apartment while on the phone. For safety, you always call a friend while walking.

“Yeah, I’m home now though. I love you, Ann. I’ll see you Tuesday.” Once you hang up, you kick your shoes off and place your purse on the hook.

As you pass your photos in the living room, you notice the photo of you and Finn has been knocked over. A wave of anxiety rushes over you. You try to reason with yourself. It’s almost been a year and you’ve never seen König. He’s probably moved on the same way you have.

You enter your bedroom and turn the lights on. The door closes behind you as you take off your dress, tossing it into the hamper. You grab out a pair of pajamas, placing them on your bed. Reaching behind your back, you unhook your bra, tossing it aside. When you do, you look down at the floor and notice your black pair of underwear is missing.

Maybe you put it in the hamper? Slowly, you walk to the hamper and look inside. At that moment, your bathroom door opens. Your eyes go up and meet the dreadful pale blue eyes. Your heart beat sky rockets, your feet moving ahead of your brain as you turn to run.

König is fast. He reaches out and wraps his arms tightly around your stomach. Lifting you in the air as you kick and scream, slamming you down hard on the bed. The air leaves your lungs and your screaming stops. König pulls out your underwear from his pocket and shoves it into your mouth. He grabs your arms and pulls them behind your back, pulling off his belt with one hand and tying your hands together.

When you try to kick him to get away, but he just climbs on you, resting his weight on you. “Where are you trying to go, Hase?” He growls.

Your screams are muffles as you try to squirm away from König.

“I saw your birth control pills.” He grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls your head back. “That is still my pussy. You are still mine.”

You shake your head no and try to break free from his grasp. His 6 ’10 280 lb body is just too big to fight back against.

König’s hands begin to travel along your mostly naked body. Your skin is just as soft as he remembers. His finger hooks your panties and moves it down. You buck backwards like a horse and try to kick him. A heavy hand comes down and spanks your ass cheek, you whimper.

“Stay still. I don’t want to have to hurt you.” König finishes pulling your underwear off completely before standing off of your body and getting undressed.

“It’s a shame you thought that you could get away from me. Bigger shame you decided to give away my body to another man. You know I don’t like that.” You can hear his pants drop to the floor finally.

König walks to your body and drags you to the center of the bed. He joins you on the bed, spreading your ass cheeks and pushing his face between them, taking a deep breath.

“That’s still my fucking pussy.” He grabs your ass and jiggles them before climbing over you, one leg on either side of your thighs.

His heavy cock slaps against your cheeks. He spits in his hand and rubs it around the tip of his cock, rubbing the tip along your folds. The feeling of his cock being pressed up against your entrance makes you squirm your hips, but that doesn’t stop König.

König spreads your ass cheeks with his hands so he can have a clear view of your pussy. He looks down at you and pushes himself into you. You tense up, only making yourself tighter for him. A loud moan leaves his lips as he buries his cock deep inside of your pussy.

He doesn’t allow you any time to adjust to his enormous dick as he slams his hips into you. You shake your body, trying your best to break free of his belt around your hands. Eventually you manage to spit your underwear out.

“Stop!” You cry out as you kick your legs as you writhe under him.

“Just take my cock.” He groans.

One of his hands comes down on your head and pushes your face into the pillow, holding you there as he picks up his pace. He rams his cock hard enough to cause pain, forcing the full length of his cock into your tight cunt. Your cries are muffled.

König yanks his head back and forces your head up. “What? You can’t handle my cock anymore?”

“Fuck you! Get off of me!”

“What? You don’t like my cock anymore?” He asks in a condescending tone.

“No!”

“Shut up.”  He pulls his cock out of your pussy, grabbing you by your hair and dragging you to the edge of the bed.

König puts you on your back and slaps his cock on your lips, rubbing it back and forth. You try to turn your head but he grabs your jaw and forces you to stay still. The tip of his cock presses against your lips pressed tightly together.

“Open.” He lightly taps the side of your face.

Your mouth opens and König shoves himself inside. He forces his way into your throat, finger tracing the outline of his cock appearing. You gag, causing spit to come out of your mouth and on to your face. König keeps pressing in until his balls are resting on your face. Not being about to breathe, you kick and arch your body.

“Shhhh, calm down. You can take it.” He pushes even further.

König begins to rock his hips, fucking your throat. His heavy balls hitting your face over and over. This causes you to gag again and you throw up, turning your head to the side and vomiting on the floor. He laughs, “Are you going to be a good girl or should I keep going?”

“I’ll be good.” You pant with tears in your eyes.

“Gut.” König growls as he walks to the other side of the bed, joining you.

He lays behind you, lifting one of your legs and tells you to hold it. His hand covered in your spit handles his cock as he slips it into your pussy. Your gummy cunt welcomes him back. König grabs your face and turns your face to his.

“Whose pussy is this?”

“Mine.”

“Say it, Schatz.” His voice trembling as he bullies his cock deep inside of you.

You try to suppress the orgasmic feeling his cock gives you. As much as you like Finn, his cock is nothing compared to König’s. No matter how toxic König is, you can’t help but to miss him.

“Yours.” You moan out bashfully, hating yourself.

“What was that?” A grin crosses König’s lips.

“It’s yours!” You angrily moan.

“Fuck yes!” König rolls his body on top of yours, your leg pushed over as he grasps your hip and thigh. As he thrust into you, he pulls your back to meet his thrust.

Pitiful mewls freely leave your lips; a mixture of shame and euphoria consumes your whole body. You look back at him, your eyes meeting, as you see the same possessive glare in his eyes as he always has. Will you ever escape this man?

[yanderestarangel]

✩ 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑!𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐗 𝐅𝐓𝐌 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ✩

TW: smut, porn plot, sex without a condom, johnny cage porn star au!, ftm reader, compliments, degradation, oral sex -m!receives, fingering, male pronouns used, afab anatomy, aggressive sex, dom!johnny cage, sub!reader, not reviewed, vaginal sex.

You needed money and started making videos for onlyfans, some videos just masturbating, but your body and beauty caught the attention of some powerful people, including Johnny Cage's manager, who asked you to make a porn video with Johnny Cage himself, that the fee would be high and that you would gain even more subscribers for your OF.

So, you accepted.

You went to the film set, it was a luxurious apartment on the twentieth floor of a high-class building, you were nervous, soon seeing Johnny Cage, smiling sideways while waiting for the producers to leave after adjusting the camera and scenery, and just staying you, him in the room.

"-Fuck, you're even more beautiful in person pretty boy, are you ready for our little debut?..." -Johnny said, serving you a martini, so you would feel lighter.

You sit on the sofa next to him, the lights of the apartment/porn film set slightly warm your skin, while you refuse the martini offered by Johnny, after all, you were going to debut in porn, it wouldn't be a good idea to be slightly drunk, the smell of expensive men's perfume left Johnny while you became even more anxious about what was to come, you introduced yourself to him quickly, with politeness and as much calm as you could manage at the moment.

Johnny Cage smirked as he admired your beautiful appearance and the way you carried yourself. He took a step closer, closing the distance between you, his eyes scanning your body hungrily.

"-Well, (Y/N), it's a pleasure to meet you." -he said, his voice low and seductive, his hand instinctively reaching out to touch the fabric of your clothes.

"-I'm sure you'll do just fine. Just remember, we're here to make a captivating performance. We'll give them a show they won't forget."

He leaned in closer, his hot breath grazing your ear as he whispered: "-And who knows, maybe we'll have a little fun outside of the cameras too." Johnny hand trailed down your side, tracing the curves of your thigh.

The atmosphere in the room grew thicker with desire, as Johnny Cage's hungry gaze met yours. "-Are you ready for our little show (Y/N)?"

You agree, taking off your clothes, still with a shy feeling in your body, but the fabrics soon slid off, making you vulnerable in front of the cameras, and the Hollywood actor. Johnny Cage's eyes widened at the sight of your exposed body, his breath hitching in his throat, he couldn't tear his gaze away from your perfect curves, your skin calling to him.

"-(Y/N)..." -He said, his voice filled with a husky desire as he took a step closer to you. "-You have an exquisite body. You're absolutely stunning, my sweet pretty boy." -As he approached, his hands reached out to touch your bare skin, his fingers tracing along the curve of your waist and grazing your breast. His touch was confident, yet gentle, as if he was admiring a work of art.

"-I can promise you, that our scene together will be unforgettable. I'm going to make you moan, scream, and beg for more." -Cage breathed, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

His fingers trailed lower, teasingly brushing against your thigh before swelling closer to your wet pussy. Johnny eyes never left yours as he continued to speak.

"-And maybe, just maybe, after the cameras stop rolling, we can explore our desires even further, shall we begin, my sweet (Y/N)?" -With that, he pulled back slightly, his dark glasses reflecting the studio lights as he smirked suggestively.

Johnny Cage's touch was electrifying as his fingers delved into your wet pussy, the sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, causing you to moan into his kisses. As the scene continued, Johnny's skilled fingers moved with purpose, teasing and pleasuring you to the brink of ecstasy. Each touch, each stroke ignited a fire within you, making you writhe and gasp for more.

The chemistry between the two of you was undeniable, your bodies entwined in an erotic dance that left both of you craving for more. Johnny's kisses trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of lust and need in their wake.

With a low growl, Johnny broke free from the kiss, his voice filled with primal desire. "-You're doing so well, (Y/N). I want to hear every moan and whimper, let the world know just how good I make you feel."

His fingers quickened their pace, driving you closer to the edge. Your glistened on his fingertips, proof of your pleasure. The room was filled with the sounds of your passionate cries, a symphony of desire.

Just as you were about to reach your climax, Johnny abruptly removed his fingers and stepped back. His eyes gleamed with anticipation, his voice dripping with arousal.

"-Save it, (Y/N). Save that release for me. There's so much more to come."

And with those words, he directed you to move to the next scene, leaving you aching and desperate for the release only he could provide.

Johnny quickly placed you on your knees in front of him, his cock was elevated in your face, making you part your lips in a gesture of lust and submission, nothing mattered at that moment, your core burned with excitement, you took him inside your mouth, his cock throbbed in response to his skilled ministrations, and a low rumble of pleasure escaped his lips.

"-That's it (Y/N), Take my cock like a good little slut. Show the world how much you want it." -He tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding your movements as he fucked your face with a rough urgency. His hips surged forward, filling her mouth completely. The room was filled with the wet, lewd sounds of his oral worship, a tantalizing symphony that echoed his power over you.

You eagerly complied, your lips wrapping around his hardening shaft. You took him as deep as you could, bobbing your head up and down, your tongue running along the underside of his length.

As he pulled his dick from your mouth, a trail of saliva connecting your lips to the throbbing member, Johnny took the opportunity to belittle and degrade you, exactly as the script called for, but also because he wanted to, your submission made his feel weak in the knees so much excitement.

"-You worthless bitch, you thought you could handle a celebrity like me? Please, you're nothing but a desperate cocksucker, begging for validation." -Johnny said in a growl, as he pushed his dick down your throat, making you roll your eyes and gasp in pleasure, he slapped your cheek lightly, the sting sending shivers of pleasure through your body. His commanding presence filled the set, catching your attention.

"-Look at you boy, on your knees, all wet and desperate, that's all you're good for, isn't it? A filthy little toy..." -Johnny spoke between hoarse moans, his hair short and combed. His hair was now slightly messy, with the front strand coming and going, disconnected from the others, shining in the light, his face was one of pure pleasure, as he pushed it to the limit of his mouth, leaving a trail of saliva and cock juices. As the scene reached its climax, Johnny's grip on his hair tightened, his voice husky with need.

"-You better suck me dry, (Y/N). Drain every drop from my pulsing cock. Do it now."

You took him deep into your throat, your relentless sucking and swirling tongue pushing him over the edge. He moaned, his body tensing as he spilled his hot cum down your throat.

"-You're doing so well my boy... such a good little slut, taking my cock like the obedient toy you are." -Johnny praised, his voice a sultry mix of pleasure and dominance.

With a final sigh, he pulled away, his chest heaving with the effort.

"-Good job, beautiful boy." -He spoke hoarsely, his lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he watched you gasp for air, his cock glistening with your saliva. The sight of your wet pussy, the embodiment of your desire, only fueled his own.

He brought his hand to your cheek, caressing it softly before delivering a sharp slap against your flushed skin. The sting sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, intensifying your arousal.

"-All eager and desperate, begging for more. And here I thought you were just a delicate pretty boy. But oh, how wrong I was."

Johnny pushed you gently onto the floor, your back against the cool surface as he towered over you. With a firm grip on your chin, he directed your gaze to his hard cock.

"-Look what you did to me your mouth was so delicious, sucking me like the desperate slut you are." -he hissed through clenched teeth. As he spoke, he stroked his cock, spreading the pre-cum over the glistening head. His voice was rough and demanding as he continued, your eyes boring into his.

"-You awakened something in me..." -He confessed, with a voice hoarse with desire, there was a twinkle in his eyes, something intimate, as if he were looking into the depths of his soul, as if he wanted to tell you something.

"-I want to see how much of a filthy whore you can be. I want to fuck you senseless and make you scream my name... Fuck (Y/N), look how wet you are, craving my touch..."

Johnny pulls your face hard again, he looked like an animal hungry for you, you looked like his prey at that moment.

"-And remember, bitch, this was all your choice. Your pretty little body was practically begging for my touch from the moment I laid eyes on you, now spread those legs and expose that pussy to me, I'm going to fuck you like the fucking dick-desperate boy you are." -Cage spoke loudly to you, but that made you wet even more, opening them for him to see, the light from the set warmed his body temperature even more, while the floor was soiled by the wetness of your pussy.

the sight of your wet, exposed entrance drove him to the brink of madness. Johnny could practically taste your arousal in the air and was eager to claim your.

"-Such a greedy little bitch, You're just a filthy idiot, ready to take anything I give you, a pretty face like yours is made for fucking, for getting dirty."

With one swift movement, Johnny positioned himself between your spread thighs, his cock pressing against your dripping entrance. Anticipation electrified the air as he teasingly rubbed the tip into your folds.

"-You're a naughty little boy with the most delicious pussy." -Without a hint of hesitation, he thrust his hips forward, entering you with a force that made you gasp and moan.

"-Fuck, you're so tight, so fucking perfect for me." -Johnny started with slow, teasing thrusts as he savored their beautiful, needy expressions beneath him. His hand came down over your exposed ass, leaving behind burning heat as he pounded you mercilessly. The mix of pleasure and pain took you to new heights, your body trembling under his touch, and he loved it, he was obsessed with you, how you reacted so well to his touch, how you wanted him.

As you swallowed him whole in your pussy, Johnny's voice became hoarse as fine beads of sweat fell from his skin onto his.

"-Fuck, your pussy feels amazing boy, so wet and tight around me. I've never experienced anything like it." -He spoke with a smirk, as he enjoyed the feeling of your smooth, velvety walls around his pulsing shaft, you could see his defined abdomen contract with each stronger thrust into your pussy, like Adam's inch elevated in his throat, rising and falling with each involuntary swallow of saliva that Johnny took.

"-You're such a filthy, needy little slut, you want my cum, don't you? You want to be filled with me, marked by me." -Johnny continued, as he kissed you with force and desperation, your tongues fought for control, as he continued to thrust deeper and harder into your pussy, the tip of his dick hitting your uterus countless times, making you scream his name, echoing off the walls of the film set.

"-You're nothing but a cum-hungry whore (Y/N), a pretty little face that hides all your desires, such a beautiful little boy exposing himself as a porn actor? Damn baby I was lucky to catch you on my debut in this world."

You see him stand up, taking you with him with ease, strong muscles flexing against Johnny's skin, heading towards the luxurious sofa in the living room, with a smug smile, he positioned you on top of his erect member, allowing the camera to capture every moment, he wrapped his arm around your neck, applying gentle but firm pressure, as Johnny thrust up into you, his other hand found its way to your clit, working the sensitive bundle of nerves relentlessly, with the intensity built, the room filled with the sounds of your combined moans, mingling with the click of the camera capturing your every movement.

"-Give it to me (Y/N), take my cock. Take it all, and when we're done, I'm going to make you mine in ways you've never imagined." -Cage's grip tightened around your waist as he felt the walls of your pussy clench around his throbbing member, the power dynamics between the two of you were intoxicating, the chemistry palpable as pleasure surged through your bodies.

"-Fuck, be my good boy, cum for me now. Show me how much you enjoy being my obedient slut."

Johnny's fingers dipped into your wetness, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he brought them to your lips.

"-Taste yourself, suck my fingers like it's my fucking dick (Y/N) be a good boy for me."

As you obediently sucked and licked his fingers, Johnny couldn't help but praise you. "-Such a good slut, You know how to please daddy, don't you?" -he murmured, his voice smug and satisfied.

Johnny continued to thrust into you, his movements growing more powerful and urgent, with every stroke, every moan of pleasure, he drove himself closer to the edge.

"-I'm almost there my boy, but first, I want to see that pretty face of yours coated in my cum. Are you ready for it, my sweet little boy?"

Johnny Cage's sighed in satisfaction as he watched you weakly stand, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm. He wasted no time, quickly positioning himself between your spread legs, ready to claim your body once again.

"-You're such a filthy little slut, taking my load like the insatiable whore you are."

He thrust a few more times into your sensitive pussy, relishing in the way you moaned and whimpered under him. His words grew even dirtier: "-Absolutely stunning... the camera loves you, (Y/N), And so maybe I do."

As he pulled out, his cum spilled over your body, painting you in his dominance. Johnny hand greedily worked his length, ensuring that every last drop was released onto his skin.

"-That's right, my sweet little boy. Take every drop of my cum. Let it coat your belly, your breasts, your pretty little pussy. You're marked by me now." -Johnny said, sighing heavily, his muscular chest rising and falling, while he used his fingers to spread all his seed over your stomach and pussy, massaging the soft and sensitive edges of your hole, while the camera stopped recording, the director of a positive sign to you both, but Johnny doesn't move away from you, just bending down and whispering in your ear:

"-You were incredible, my little slut, but our fun doesn't end here. Oh no, we're just getting started."

[mimismenu]

ℋis palette ⸝⸝

꒰ 🎨 ꒱ 𝒩ishimura ℛiki [니키] : 𝒪neshot!

𝓰enre : soulmate au, fluffy fluffy fluff!

𝓹airing : non-idol,,artsy ni-ki x artsy fem reader.

𝓢ynopsis : in which people see the world in shades of black & white until making contact with their soulmate.

𝔀arning(s) : bumping into each other cliche.

꒰ 💬 ꒱ 𝓂i 𝓃ote!

remember, this is a work of fiction. i did not proofread, so please excuse any mistakes. if you enjoyed this, please like and reblog. it would be much appreciated.

enjoy, my lovely readers. xoxo, mimi.

NISHIMURA RIKI was the quiet, loner type at decelis high, considering the fact that his best friends were all upperclassmen that had since graduated. he often sat by himself during lunch period, headphones on blast as he drew in his small sketchbook. his art was beautiful to anyone who had the privilege to see, yet it lacked one element; color.

the boy greatly envied those who had gained their palette, straight from the source of interacting with their soulmate; to which he had yet to meet. at least that’s what he believed, since he’d never came in physical contact with them.

currently, he was sat beneath a tree in the courtyard, hoping to sketch the scenery of campus, humming along to a track playing in his ears. his legs were entirely outstretched, laid before him as he used his thighs as a surface to draw upon.

a figure, obviously in a rush, had approached with hurried steps through the grass, tripping over his limbs with a soft ‘oof’. glancing up in surprise, riki’s gaze met the back of your kneeling figure. he recognized you immediately, as you shared multiple art classes throughout the years, and many labeled you as the campus sweetheart.

but…

wait, your outfit was a different sprawl of hues from the generic blacks and whites that he could see. in fact, his view was anything but grayscale. he assumed that you’d realized the same, your head tilting a few degrees in curiosity as you stared at the green grass beneath your palms.

pulling himself from the initial shock, the boy removed his headphones, placing them and his sketchbook aside to help you gather what had fallen from your grasp, knelt beside you.

“are you okay, y/n?” the boy questioned, his fingertips grazing yours as you’d reached for the item. when your eyes met his, he felt the air leave his lungs, your features far more angelic than people had described. his sight was one that people would’ve fought for, and yet he had the privilege to witness you in such beautiful color. your expression mirrored his, the honey of his skin, the blush of his lips– it was an exquisite change, leaving you in awe.

“y/n?” his voice drew you from the daze of his beauty, causing your eyes to flutter in rapid blinks that showcased your nerves.

“s–sorry, riki.” you murmur, reaching to take your sketchbook from his hands, only for him to pull it back. leaning your upper half forward, you found yourself a mere few inches from him– your breath mingling with his.

“y/n.” riki called with a low tone, causing you to gulp, averting your gaze. his fingers reached up, gently caressing your chin as he turned your head to meet his eyes.

“why were you in such a rush, bunny?” he questions, his brows furrowing in worry of any possible injury you may have gotten. flustered by the pet name, your cheeks flushed an adorable shade of pink, catching his interest as he waited patiently for a response.

“well.. well i wanted to..” you begin, stumbling over your words in embarrassment. you were actually on the search for him, hoping to find a vantage point in which you could draw him for the day. your fingers reached to grasp at the sketchbook, your name sprawled across the front; only for riki to cheekily grin at you.

“what’s in here, hm?” he questions with a playful wiggle of his brows, glancing down at the sketchbook to flip the front page.

“w–wait!” you attempted to protest, only for his lips to part in surprise, having found a drawing of… himself?

“y/n…” he whispers in disbelief, his eyes casting between the drawing and you, his gaze landing on the paper once more. his fingers gently flipped through the pages, finding a multitude of sketches you’d made of him; most of them during lunch period, where he peacefully sat alone.

“oh, pretty...” he murmurs, folding the sketchbook shut before placing it aside, practically tugging you onto his lap. “stop admiring from afar.” he mutters, pressing gentle kisses against your cheeks, to which your skin flushes even further. he was honored to have been the apple of your eye, as you were his.

after all, his staring sessions during class were rather obvious to everyone but you.

“riki!” you squeal in shyness, hands pressed against his chest as he lovingly smothers you.

“see, it's a sign that you should’ve joined me all along, baby.” he coos, glancing up at the sky and pointing with his index finger; the colors sprawled across your vision as you turned your head.

“not only can you see colors, but you have me to grace your presence.” he grins at you, ticking your sides as a giggle falls past your lips, your gaze returning to his.

“oh, yippie!” you sarcastically respond with a playful smile, earning a gasp of feign hurt from the boy; to which you place a gentle kiss to his lips.

now it was his turn to be flustered, your action catching him off guard before he pulled you in once again, your smiles meshing as you expressed your affection, no longer hidden.

taglist : @greentulip @nshmuras @wonsdoll 📎

[princessaxoxo]

Malibu

Summary: You and Henry take a dip in the ocean

Warnings: 18+ Only, NSFW, Breeding kink, public sex, unprotected sex (p in v), cussing, fingering, Oral (f receiving), dirty talk, pet names; if any is missed please let me know.

Word count: 1.2k+

You and Henry were driving down the coast.

Henry had the top down, and you were standing up from the passenger seat with the Malibu wind blowing through your hair. The scenery in front of you was breathtaking, causing a smile to form on your face.

You plopped back down in your seat and looked over to him. He was focused on the road ahead, one hand gripping the steering wheel and the other caressing your thigh. Biting your lip with a smile, you brought your foot to his lap and started to rub. He clenched his jaw as his cock hardened under his jeans.

“Baby, let’s go for a swim.” He turned and looked at you with his sunglasses covering his blue eyes, and you brought his fingers to your mouth and sucked on them each.

He inhaled deeply to calm himself. “Just a quick dip, darling; afterward, we’ll need to be back on the road."

You leaned forward and planted a kiss on his lips. “Thank you, baby.”

You felt the smooth sand between your toes as you inched closer to the water. The sea glistened with a shimmer as the sun started to set. You pulled your dress over your head, revealing your lace bra and thong underneath. Once it dropped, you looked behind you to see Henry staring at you from a distance. "Hurry, slow-poke.”

The water was perfectly warm when you dove into it.

Henry’s strong arms suddenly wrapped around you, pulling you backward into his chest. He planted a kiss on the side of your neck as you wiggled your ass against his crotch, causing a groan.

You faced him directly, his blue eyes becoming darker in the dusk. He took your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist after giving you a smack on the ass. When you noticed he had removed his boxer briefs, you arched your eyebrows in shock. He whispered in your ear, "You are ever so tempting, my girl."

Henry began to kiss you; the beard he had grown felt exquisite as his tongue started swiping over your bottom lip, and your mouth opened in submission for him as it always did. Henry’s fingers found the lining of your thong; he pushed them aside, exposing your pussy to him. He moved his fingers through your folds, finally arriving at your clit to begin massaging your tiny nub.

You licked your lips and uncontrollably threw your head back. Henry whispered to himself silently as you felt him move his lips up your neck. "All mine, mine, mine."

He slowly moved his fingers downward and entered them into your waiting opening. “How does that feel, darling? Hm?” He wore a knowing smile on his face.

“It feels so good, baby; faster, please."

Henry increased the speed of his fingers inside you; the pleasure you were receiving from his fingers alone made your thighs twitch. “Let me have your cock; I want to come all over it.”

His cock replaced his fingers inside your cunt, and his movements were slow at first, wanting to get the feel of you first. “This pussy was made for me. Always warming my cock so perfectly.”

You deepened your kiss with him as his pace quickened, tongues dancing with one another. You could feel his balls smacking against your ass as his stern fingers tightened around you and his hips slammed against you.

“Take my cock, darling, taking it so fucking good.”

“Oh, yes, give it to me, baby.”

Your eyebrows knit together, and your mouth is agape and breathless. You leaned your forehead against his. “Shit, I’m going to come.”

“Yeah, going to come all over my cock? Are you going to make a mess all over my cock?"

“Ah, yes,” you said as you came undone.

Henry carried you both out of the water, not caring if anyone was nearby, and spotted you as he laid you down on the sand. “I need to get a taste of you, darling."

He bent down in between your thighs, first kissing the inside and then kissing your navel, and made his way down. When he was aligned with your pussy you felt his breath, and a shiver ran through your spine.

Henry removed your thong and bra and threw them haphazardly behind him.

You watched as he spat on your tiny bud, rubbed it with his fingers, and then sucked the juices off his fingers. His eyes rolled back to his head. "Oh my god, so fucking delicious."

He began to devour you, licking and sucking. Watching him pump himself while feasting on you made you even wetter. You grabbed his hair, grinding your pussy against his face. It vibrated through you as he moaned.

The salty taste of the sea and the sweetness of you combined were heaven for Henry.

He felt himself close to the edge as he watched you come for the second time today. He moved his body upwards, watching his come cover your pussy and your stomach. “Hands and knees now,” he said, and you turned over onto your stomach and lifted your ass into the air.

You jerked forward as Henry gave both of your ass-cheeks hard slaps, leaving a handprint.

Afterward, he pulled you back harshly and, without caution, slammed his cock into your awaiting entrance again. He wrapped your hair around his fist and began to pound into you. “Shit!” you cried out. The only sound around was both you and Henry’s heavy breathing and the sound of slapping wet skin.

Henry relentlessly slapped your ass, making you wince. You had your eyes shut hard, making you see stars behind them.

With his other hand, Henry ran his hand down your spine and said, “So gorgeous, and all mine, all for me."

“Oh, god, Henry," you mewled out.

“This pussy is going to be full of me, filled all the way. Want to be filled with my kids, baby?"

“Fuck, yes. Fill me with your kids."

He let go of your hair, and you looked back at him. The sunset was gone, but you could still see the beads of sweat that had formed on his face. You shook your ass on his cock as his eyes watched and never drifted.

Henry pulled you up, leaning on his chest. He grabbed a hold of one of your breasts and another around the front of your body; in this position, he went deeper into you. His thrust slowed down but was harsher.

You turned your head, gave him an open-mouth kiss, and sucked on his tongue.

His orgasm exploded inside of you as he groaned into the kiss. His movements didn’t falter, and you felt his come down your inner thighs.

He rubbed your nub fast. “Come for me, darling."

From his whispered voice, you did. He held you in his arms as he sat back, giving you both time to relax and regain your breath.

You both were back in his car, covered in a blanket, watching the night sky scattered with stars.

Henry looked down at you and moved a piece of your hair out of your face. “I thoroughly enjoyed our little trip to the beach.” That brought a laugh from you. “Yes, I think it was a wise decision. Shall we do it again, hm?"

“We shall.” 

[applesandpavenders]

Things that made the battle scene in The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe still the best battle scene I’ve ever seen:

Epic scenery

The MUSIC

The moment the music stopped and you just hear bodies colliding and shouts and the clatter of weapons. So chilling

How Peter’s battle strategies clearly reflect his experiences and values; he uses the griffin’s to essentially bomb the witch’s army and keeps Edmund safe out of range on the cliff. He uses the air space over the enemy as an important battle field which is often forgotten in fantasy battles (but was such a big deal in blitzed London)

The variety of of creatures in each army. The film uses this as a moment to world build on who lives in Narnia and establish what they value by who’s side they’re on

It emphasises how each unique creature is built different and how that effects the battle. A good example is how the tiny guy with the sword takes down the rhino (it’s a split second scene where the rhino looks like he trips but he was actually attacked)

There a unicorn, like, come on

Again, the silence that comes when the music stops just before the two armies collide. Exquisite

It’s not an overly gory battle, and it’s not made to look super grey or gritty, but it doesn’t glorify it either. It’s made to look epic but also terrible - there’s broad daylight and colour in each shot but the music adds weight to the deaths that happen

Just a huge amount of fantasy creatures that don’t look like robots. Those fauns look genuinely nervous

The way Peter consults the other leaders like the griffin and Oreius. He respects them

Peter’s glance over his shoulder to Edmund for reassurance

The way Edmund gives him a nod. SO cool.

It demonstrates how they’re both kings and although Peter is leading the army Edmund is also playing a vital role in the battle

[hazslover]

ooh, love

18+ fingering. smut. love making.

listen to the song while reading this Xx

she lays her head on his shoulder, staring out at the ocean. the cool breeze dances softly, blowing lightly through their hair while the setting sun paints upon their skin.

she admires the horizon. the sun dipping bellow the sea. a hazy light blue and citrus tangerine colour the sky. it’s exquisite.

but to him she is.

when they turn and stare at each other, breaking away from the stunning scenery, there’s a sexual tension between them. eyes swimming in lust. heat radiating from their skin.

he admires her for a second. tan skin, cute freckles, messy curls. she’s breathtaking and all his.

he lays down in front of her, bunching her dress over her thighs and tugging her panties down. the sight of her cunt has him spinning. her slit is glistening in a gold reflected by the sweet honey tones of the sun. it’s a slick, pearly cream. so delicate and beautiful and begging for him.

he slips in a finger, eliciting a small gasp from her. god she’s so tight. so perfect for him. her cunt is practically desperate for his cock, fluttering around his finger.

he curls his finger deep inside of her, eliciting a soft moan from her. it hits the spot perfectly.

he adds a second finger. then a third until she’s breathless and clenching hard around him.

‘m’close’ she whines, nails digging into his scalp which earns a small grunt from him. the hot vibration sends her over the edge, orgasming around his digits.

by now she’s a mess. her top half is falling off her shoulders, showing the beginnings of her breasts. her hair is tangled in every direction and she’s panting.

he tears her top half down with greedy hands and her breasts bounce into view. they’re round and perky, tits waiting for his lips and he immediately dives in, attacking them with his eager mouth. soft moans fall from her lips. his head already desperately nudging at her entrance when he pulls his bottoms down.

they see stars, soft sighs falling from their lips as he sheaths in.

‘so fucking beautiful, m’darling’ he whispers, nudging the tip of his nose against hers. his thrusts are slow but deep. so intimate. so perfect. she thinks she’s in heaven.

her orgasm comes down heavy as he makes love to her. his own coming hard.

he stills inside of her. balls deep. head falling into the crevice of her neck, pressing gentle kisses there.

‘i love you, angel’ he whispers softly to her skin.

‘i love you too’ she whispers back.

and for a while they lay under the stars, the sun finally setting.

this right here was their little piece heaven..

[woahhitsbee]

Perfect: J.Y

YunhoXReader

Fluff

Everything was coming together, it had to, Yunho spent 2 weeks planning this date so it had to go perfectly. Each and every detail was carefully picked from the blanket to what food he packed. He didn’t tell you what he had planned wanting to see your expression when you saw the scene. He found a gorgeous clearing filled with beautiful daisy’s in full bloom, he picked a time when the sun shone bright but not too bright where it hurt your eyes, he forced Wooyoung to make food that he KNEW you would love. Everything had to be perfect.

As soon as you arrived to the clearing all his hard work paid off. Seeing the look on your face made everything worth it “oh Yunho! It’s amazing! You didn’t have to all this” you gushed as he guided you to blanket “I wanted to make sure our first date was everything you could ever imagine” he smiled as you both sat down. The warm of the sun could not compare to feeling Yunho was making you feel, no one had ever gone to the lengths he had and you couldn’t help admire him in the golden sunlight. Everything was exquisite from the food to the scenery and you didn’t want the date to end.

Yunho was over the moon that everything was going according to plan that is until he felt a raindrop fall on his forehead. His eyebrows furrowed hoping it was just one. His disappointment grew as more raindrops fell and he scrambled to gather everything into the basked, taking your hand and rushing back to the car. The rain fell heavier with each step you took until you were both drenched to the bone. You stoped Yunho halfway to the car “come on Sunshine, we’re gonna get sick” he said confused as to why you stoped.

You said nothing as you stepped up to him and pressed your lips to his. His eyes widened in surprise not registering the warm feeling of your lips. You pulled away a little embarrassed that he didn’t kiss you back that is until you hear the sound of the basket hitting the floor and in an instant his hands grab your face before slamming his lips against yours. He didn’t care that he was soaked, he didn’t care that he was most likely going to be sick tomorrow, all he cared about was that he was here, in the rain, kissing you.

The next morning you texted him a picture of you bedridden with a nose red from sneezing. Even though you bother were very sick you didn’t regret a thing. The date was perfect.

[theflashesoflove]

obstacle I

Larissa Weems x f!reader (nsfw) – series

part I :: part ll :: ao3

summary: Could you be more careless? Talking to a stranger online and sharing the most intimate moments of your days with her? The way you trusted her was almost ridiculous, but the way she talked to you made you sure that this grown woman wouldn’t even consider harming you in some way. One would think you were a fool who would regret her messages one day, one would even point a finger at you and say how perverse all of it was. Luckily, no one knew. Except for Lydia, your mistress, to whom you granted not just your body, but also your heart.

a/n: i always dreaded writing series, but this woman inspires me so much that i'm finally up for the challenge. i hope i will be consistent with my writing enough to bring this story where i want it to be. filthy, angsty and gentle. i think there will be two or three more chapters and it is also crossposted on ao3. btw i have a vague idea of what architects do so if you notice some factual mistakes let's pretend that in my silly imaginary world things work this way. the names of the chapters are lyrics from interpol's 'turn on the bright lights' album (it's brilliant, a huge recommend if you like male manipulator music like i do haha). proofread, and i hope it doesn't sound as broken as i think it does. (bracing myself) let's set this little bird free into the wild.

general warnings/tags: unhealthy online relationship, dom!larissa x sub!reader dynamics, sexting, nudes, masturbation + angst and all that stuff to come

chapter word count: 4k

Part I: you are linked to my innocence

Sitting on the balcony, you admired the sun slowly crawling up from its slumber, painting the sky with faint yellow and pink shades, warming up the cool earth. The view before you made you smile. Perhaps having trouble sleeping had its benefits – you could admire such a beautiful sunrise and feel at peace for at least the next hour, before the world would wake up and start swirling around you, overwhelming and demanding. 

Thinking of someone who was also so very demanding, you pulled out your phone and started recording the serene scenery. You tried to hold your phone still, though it was hard because of the chilly wind that made you shiver. Ending the video, you opened the messenger and sent it to a woman who made your heart sing just like the morning birds sang, greeting the sun.

You scrolled up your message history with her for a bit, smirking. What a sweet little relationship you had, one time you would send her a beautiful view out of your window, the next time – a picture of you touching yourself in the most sinful way.

Couldn’t sleep again? and What a lovely view, she replied an hour later. Not as lovely as you, though, she added after.

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Her name was Lydia and she had just the right way with her words. She would text you, Send me a picture, and you would rush out of your meeting to the bathroom to send her a selfie. She would text you, What a beautiful shirt you are wearing, unbutton it for me, and you would spend a bit more time in the bathroom sending her picture after picture. 

You didn’t know what she looked like. She rarely sent you pictures in return, and you had only one 10 seconds long video of her touching herself. Her fingers were slender, her nails were painted a burgundy red colour, and she had those plush thighs that you wanted to squeeze with your hands. She was a woman of exquisite taste – taste in music, in foods, in lingerie.

You never asked her for more. It was entirely your choice to reveal your face on one of the first videos you sent her. She once told you, Don’t call me by my name on those videos, call me your mistress. You obliged. You always did. An impulse to ask the woman if she could reveal her face bubbled up inside your chest from time to time, but you pushed it away, never willing to make her uncomfortable. Perhaps there was something she didn’t like about herself, perhaps she wanted to be more mysterious and enticing, perhaps she just needed a bit more time – and it had been a year! Never being a selfish one, you suppressed your questions and played by her rules. 

She knew a lot about your life. You didn’t realise that you barely knew about hers. You knew that her work was stressful enough to make her speak to you in an especially dirty way in the night, urging you to send new videos for her to let off steam. You could only imagine her, spread on her bed to your sinful sound and pleas. You would tell her, i wish i could see how pleased my mistress is right now, nudging her to send you a picture in return. The woman would just answer, Don’t doubt it, I am very pleased with my darling girl, thank you and end the conversation until the next morning. You knew that she played piano and was popular in high school, though a bit overshadowed by her best friend at the time. You knew that she liked long walks in nature, ice skating and that her favourite season was autumn. She never pressed you to share any details about your life, but you did it nonetheless. 

It all started rather accidentally, and you told her millions of times how glad you were that she found you. There was an old record player that you wanted to sell online, and you even gave out a Fleetwood Mac vinyl in addition to it for free. The woman contacted you, anonymous at that time, though she contacted you too late, and the record player was already sold. It didn’t stop the two of you from continuing the conversation, talking about music and antique pieces of furniture she adored. After that, everything escalated quickly – topics changing topics and bringing you into dynamics you didn’t know you would enjoy this much. She teased you a lot, and at first you acted shy and hesitant, bending under her dominance and unravelling your own fantasies over time. She wrapped you around her finger, and on one particular evening you sent her your first video. The woman made it clear that she was hopeful to receive more of those in the future. 

Could you be more careless? Talking to a stranger online and sharing the most intimate moments of your days with her? The way you trusted her was almost ridiculous, but the way she talked to you made you sure that this grown woman wouldn’t even consider harming you in some way. One would think you were a fool who would regret her messages one day, one would even point a finger at you and say how perverse all of it was. If you told any of your friends about Lydia, they would tell you that you went nuts. They would tell you to stop texting her immediately and delete the chat to destroy the blackmail material that you’d shared with a stranger. Luckily, no one knew. Except for Lydia, your mistress, to whom you granted not just your body, but also your heart.

Back in the day, you suggested moving the conversation from reselling website direct messages to a more convenient messenger, one that the woman hadn’t heard of before. It took her two days to create an account for contacting you there. Her profile picture was a bush of red flowers, her personal information included just a lyric of a song she liked, and all of it was only for your eyes to see. Not much, but her empty profile on an app which she signed in just for you never aroused any suspicions. Well, sometimes it did, but then she would ask you how your day went and the sweetness of the texts the two of you shared washed your worries away. 

In fact, it wasn’t all about sexting. You could see that she was genuinely interested and caring, and you didn’t send her pictures and videos every day, after all. Maybe… three times a week? Five if she was desperate. She woke up earlier than you if you managed to fall asleep the night before and always brightened your day from its beginning with a sweet ‘Good morning, darling’ message. She always wished you a good night and checked in throughout the day, answering your texts and moving the conversation forward. Sometimes she would even send you flowers, and a delivery man would call you and ask for the address. The man would appear on your porch with a delicate bouquet later, a card attached to the wrapping would say, ‘To my favourite girl – L’. You could only giggle and smile to yourself for the rest of the day. No matter how hard you tried to get her number to send something in return, the woman would always brush you off. You can send me a picture in return, she would text you. That was exactly what you would do next. 

You’d always start with pictures. On days when you felt especially good about yourself, you didn’t even wait for her to ask. Undressing, you would send her several pictures, losing yet another piece of closing on every photo. Sometimes it would take her too long to reply, and you would record a video for her in advance. There wasn’t any surface in your house that wasn’t caught on camera while you would thrust your fingers inside, making it all pretty and appealing to look at. The sounds you made were an absolute turn on for her, and you always ensured that you put on a good show. It wasn’t even necessary to try hard, you would just recall all the dirty messages she sent you over the course of your relationship, you would imagine how it would feel to be held by her, how those long fingers would pound into you, how her lips would tease your flushed skin. You had a good imagination, and it was enough. The tiniest bits of her that were available to you – all of it was enough, that was what you were trying to convince yourself of. A hopeless romantic you were, blindly expecting that one day she would surprise you and reveal herself, and tell you how much she wanted to meet you in person. Still, it never came. That day never came, and you tried not to overthink it. You were supposed to be grateful for what you already had, after all.

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I have a very important meeting today and I just know that it won’t go easy on me. Can you please bend over your desk for me this evening, dearest? Lydia texted you a few hours later after receiving the video. 

of course, mistress, you answered playfully. your boss doesn’t give you a break, huh? ;)

Thank you, darling girl, I’ll be waiting, she replied, ignoring the message about her boss. 

You made sure to text her during your lunch break, checking if she didn’t forget to eat in between her piles of work. She told you that she had a snack and it was very nice of you to bother. A couple of hours later she asked how were you feeling since you didn’t get any sleep last night. You told her that you were running on energy drinks and green tea and she jokingly scolded you for the energy drinks part. It made you bite your lower lip, how caring she was for you in return.

The desk in your office was never neat. Scattered papers, your laptop always on charge, heated up with architect software. You hunched over the plan with a pencil in your hand, making sure that the plumbing system of the building made sense at all. Working in a reconstruction and restoration company, you never really got a chance to do the part you studied for in the first place. Always checking other architects’ plans and fixing their mistakes for them, not having the opportunity to do something of your own. Your days were filled with somewhat ridiculous tasks yet even those managed to make you feel the struggle of workload.

The surface of your desk shuddered when your phone buzzed with a reminder about forthcoming meeting, and you straightened, feeling a familiar ache in your lower back. You threw on a jacket, took your phone and notebook and left your office, politely smiling at coworkers passing by. 

The meeting went as smoothly as always – at least you enjoyed the working atmosphere of the company. Your boss talked about the updates in the company policy and proceeded to inform the staff about upcoming projects. He announced that the Principal of Nevermore school contacted them for the reconstruction work, and your coworkers didn’t even try to hide their opinions on outcasts and how infamous the school was, especially after the causality that happened a few months ago. Not paying attention to their grumbling, you thought it would be a great opportunity to finally show your skills, and your boss thought so too.

“Y/N, you will take over this project. I’m passing you the papers with details, I feel like the time to shine has come!” he said, approaching your seat with a folder in his hands. Some of your coworkers sighed in relief, glad that they wouldn’t be involved with Nevermore. It made you wince – you never thought badly of outcasts like the majority of others did, the idea of being hostile towards someone just because they were different made you nauseous like it would do to any decent person. “The Principal insists on cooperation, and I have to warn you – you will probably have to visit the site more times than would be necessary for a usual project. I hope it won’t be a problem,” he said with a light smirk.

You smiled and bit your cheek, anticipation tingling on your fingertips. “No, it won’t be a problem. Thank you,” you uttered, taking the folder. “When am I supposed to start?” 

“Next week. We arranged a meeting with Principal Weems, she said it was very important for the school, and I quote, ‘to thoroughly negotiate the reconstruction process’.” 

The school was enormous, but the work was connected to a relatively small part of it, a tower that was destroyed recently. You spent the rest of your evening studying the documents – an old plan of the school that included the tower. It was impressive how old this building was. Besides, you would be taking part in preserving and reconstructing the historic site, the whole prospect of reconstructing a part of Nevermore ensemble sounded like a dream coming true. The fact of such a project being granted to you to work on would be unbelievable if deep down you didn’t know the reason for it. It seemed that no one from your company wanted to work with Nevermore, but the school was about to pay generously, so they had to find someone to 'deal with the outcasts'. How foolish your coworkers were for declining such an opportunity, you thought, smiling to yourself.

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Back home, you didn’t bother to change into your indoor clothes, knowing full well that you would need to be completely naked soon anyway. Having had a quick meal and relaxed on the couch, closing your eyes for a little too long than you planned, you finally entered your bedroom and started setting a scene. Sometimes the lengths you went to make a perfect video for Lydia made you embarrassed, but how could you do it any other way? The woman’s attention was worth all of your efforts. You cleaned up your desk, returning previously forgotten mugs to the kitchen, shoving papers into the desk drawer and moving the pile of laundry laying on the floor out of frame. The curtains had to be closed for the last sun rays entering your bedroom not messing with the lighting on camera, the cosy shine of a garland and the dim light of a bedside lamp would be enough to illuminate your form in the most lovely way. You checked your reflection in the mirror and wiped away a few particles of mascara from under your eyes. For a second you tensed, your insecurity taking over. Would Lydia like you as much if she saw you in person? Wouldn’t she be disappointed that a flawless image you tried to create for her wasn’t as flawless in real life? Perhaps that was why she didn’t want to meet up in the first place? Did she already know that wasting the time of her busy schedule would completely disenchant her perception of you? You took a deep breath and shook your head, backing off from the mirror. It was alright. She liked you. Still you desperately wanted to be perfect for her. 

The next thing you did was distract yourself with having fun and a bit of a struggle with setting up a phone stand out of books. After you were sure that your phone wouldn’t slide down halfway through the recording, you set a 10 seconds timer and started slowly unbuttoning your shirt to catch the process on camera. The photo turned out just the way you wanted from the first try, revealing the right amount of skin and a glimpse of your lingerie. It didn’t even matter in the end, but you were always attentive to details. Completely taking off your shirt, you grabbed your phone and took the second picture – a close up of your lacy bra, nipples visible through the fabric, collarbones calling to be showered with your mistress’ kisses. The sound of timer counting down rang across your bedroom once again, you unhooked your bra to send it down onto the floor and stepped back, already topless, unzipping your pants and craning your neck to the side with a soft smile on your lips. Oh, how much you loved spoiling Lydia even if sometimes it stressed you out to the point of worrying about your imperfections. Your pants made their way onto the floor as well, out of the frame, of course, and as the next timer started counting down, you rushed to your desk to bend over it prettily, exposing your cheeks for the last photo. Then, you returned to your phone and sent pictures to Lydia, smiling to yourself at the thought of her ending her tedious day of work and seeing your message.  

It took you a fair amount of time to warm yourself up for the video by bringing yourself to the edge with a vibrator, uncomfortably sprawled in your chair and growing hotter with every second. You barely managed to stop yourself from climaxing, removing the vibrator from your clit and standing up on wobbly legs to continue your filming session. The phone was settled into its makeshift stand again, the sun finally settled, not peeking through the curtains anymore, which made the scene look especially intimate in the dimmed lights, and you were ready to absolutely ruin yourself for Lydia. After pressing the record button, you bent over your desk once again, and massaged your cheeks, squeezing and pulling to reveal your glistening sex. Having satisfied your need to tease the woman a little more, you spread your legs wider and took a toy that rested on the desk the whole time.

Teasing your wet entrance with the toy, you pleaded into the silence of your room, “Oh, please, fuck me… fuck me, mistress, please…”

By the time you finished, you were worn out – the position was rather uncomfortable, especially when you had to work with your hand from behind. You pressed the side of your face against the surface and sighed happily, “Thank you, mistress, you are so good to me.” There was a deep red mark of the edge of the desk on your knee, the wood was digging into your skin almost the whole time you were filming after you decided to move your leg higher for better access and view. The awkward scene of you grunting as you lifted yourself from the desk and padded over to your bed to stop the recording was cropped out later. 

An hour passed by, and Lydia finally answered your messages, saying that she was done with the meeting and work for the day, ready to witness you coming undone for her. 

You look absolutely ravishing, dear. Let me see how you used that toy on your pretty pussy?

are you already in bed? You asked, trying to withhold the sweet video a little longer.

No, darling. I’m taking a bath right now, she answered, arousing the urge in you to ask her if she could give you at least a glimpse of her body basking in the warm water. You didn’t ask her. 

I need you, came a text seconds later, and you couldn’t resist her anymore. 

The video went on for about 11 minutes, you didn’t know if you should have made it shorter or longer for her liking. You wondered how long it would take her, you wondered what she would use to pleasure herself and how it would feel to be with her in that moment, spreading shower gel all over her breasts and teasing her with your thigh pressed against her core. You wondered how it would feel to just settle in her lap, wrap your hands around her shoulders and hide your face in her neck, revelling in her presence.

The waiting after sending her those kinds of videos was the most tortuous one, you didn’t yet know if she liked the video or not, you didn’t know if it met her expectations, you didn’t know if it even made her wet and eager to pleasure herself. Sometimes you were afraid that she wouldn’t even bother to watch it or to reply to you ever again. Fifteen minutes later, you got a response – 1 attachment. Your heart somersaulted against your ribcage, and you hesitated for a moment before tapping on the notification, prolonging the excitement of not knowing what she sent you.

Those beautiful thighs. Oh, how much you thought about them wrapping around your head, how many times you rewatched the only video she sent you, remembering the patterns of stretch marks along her skin. She looked especially soft and rosy, her wet pubic hair neatly covered her sex, and the foam melted around her body, glistening on camera. The water was steamy and her hand rested on the rim of the bathtub – you could only assume that she was completely spent. 

i would eat you out until those gorgeous legs are shaking, you texted after a while of staring, unable to think straight.

Not before I would be done edging you for hours, she cheekily answered. And before you could think of a suitable response in the same dirty fashion, she sent her next message, Thank you, dearest. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.

A smile spread across your features, so wide it almost started to hurt. You plumped down on the bed and nuzzled your nose into the pillow, vainly seeking her scent that was never there in the first place. Contented that the woman felt about you this way, you closed your eyes and tried to imagine her. Imagine, imagine, imagine – it was the only thing you could do. In that moment, you hopelessly wanted to press yourself into her, to cling to her body and dissolve in her warmth. How much you yearned for her to give you real proximity, to caress your sides as she would bury her face in your hair and fall asleep next to you, breathing peacefully. Or she would let you lie down on her chest and listen to her calming heartbeat, holding your hand and circling your skin with her thumb. 

A couple of red heart emojis were sent Lydia’s way and you locked your phone, turned on your back and looked at the ceiling. Fulfilled and deprived at the same time.

by the way, i was given a new project today! You texted Lydia five minutes later, remembering that you forgot to share the exciting news. i’m so happy, they finally gave me the big girl stuff to do haha

That’s amazing, dear. I’m very proud of you, Lydia answered, making you blush. 

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The next Monday you were on your way to Nevermore – it felt very exciting to leave the office for once to see the site of reconstruction. To your surprise, it wasn’t that long of a ride, you expected the school to be more distant from Jericho than it was. Driving along the road that was framed by thick forest made you want to pull over for a second to take a picture of towering trees, branches tranquilly swinging in the wind, the sun peaking through the leaves. However it would be a bad idea, unless you wanted to be late for the meeting more than you already were.

The building of Nevermore astonished you from the first glance. A dark fantasy, elaborate decorations and old-fashioned high ceilings. You arrived at the brink of evening – Principal Weems didn’t have time for the meeting until 5 p.m. – and the golden hour made the school look even more otherworldly. You didn’t need a tour since you had an insight on what the building was like inside, and the location of classrooms and halls didn’t really change over decades. Approaching the Principal’s office, you adjusted the collar of your shirt and fixed your hair – this was serious, you had to make a good impression on the client. 

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a/n: oh, larissa... honey, you've got a big storm coming