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asahicore · 1 year

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cherry pits - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. dad!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis. Your alarmingly empty bank account forces you to find a last-minute summer job so that you can afford a trip with your friends. The extremely handsome customer that comes into the store just happens to be a young single dad who's renovating the old house next to yours. The tension that settles between the two of you as you start helping him fix up his house soon becomes unbearable, but it's all one-sided anyway, right?

(Spoiler: wrong.)

genre. DILF AUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!, neighbors au, s2l, summer au, slight age gap (reader is 21 and hoon 26), reader is so down bad over sunghoon its actually crazy but also extremely relatable cause this is sunghoon we're talking about, fluff and smut, sex gets freakyyy ngl

word count. 12.9k

a/n. hey sisters had no time to write anything this week so i am coming back (everybody boos) with a repost yayyy!!! i actually love this story idkw i just find it fun so i hope you guys will enjoy rereading / reading it !!!! as always let me know ur thoughts.. even if they're just incomprehensible screaming (bad or good).. im happy w anything ok bye!!!

You’ve always wondered about the ratio of cherry to pit. Such a big pit for so little flesh, isn’t it? Yet that’s never stopped you from biting into the small fruit, eating what you could and spitting out the unwanted part. You actually rather enjoy this whole process. Bite, eat, spit. You could repeat this with huge bowls of cherries at a time until they upset your stomach and you had to stop for your own good.

Bite, eat, spit is exactly what you’re doing when, with a trembling finger, you finally brave to open your banking app and check your balance. It’s the beginning of summer, and after two semesters of intense studying and too-much-coffee drinking, you think you deserve three long months of doing nothing but hanging out in your childhood bedroom and eating the food your parents buy and make. You’re especially looking forward to the vacation in Mexico you have planned with your friends at the end of August.

One look at your bank account and your dreams of white beaches and seas so blue you couldn’t tell them apart from the sky shatter around you, the sad, low numbers on the screen sneering at you mockingly. You were sure you had saved enough money from part-time jobs and generous relatives, but now you regret all of those night-outs and lazy takeaways. If you had cut down on those, maybe you wouldn’t have to go through the hassle of finding a summer job at the last minute, which you would definitely have to do if you wanted to eat something on that dear beach of yours and not just starve to death under the glaring sun.

That was it - tomorrow, you’d go and get a job. Today, however, you’d enjoy your last day of respite and eat some more cherries, or maybe make some jam and a pie so your parents wouldn’t chide you for eating them all, and then go pick some more from the three trees in your backyard. You’d sit outside, enjoying the warmth of the sun while you read or, if you couldn’t be asked, while you listened to the bustle of the old and worn-down house next door being renovated. You’re surprised someone had the courage to buy it and give it a new life, but you assume that’s the kind of courage that comes with having time and money.

Yesterday night, you’d heard a little girl playing outside until her mom called her in saying it was time to go, so you made up a story of your neighbors being newlyweds that had decided they’d had enough of the city and wanted to raise their daughter in a calmer town far from busy streets and loud honks. You could bring them some cherries, maybe in jam or pie form, as a housewarming gift.

Unfortunately, the day passed and you were too busy doing nothing to actually get around to baking, so you decided to do nothing some more and then go to bed, needing rest before your big job hunt.

You’d gravely overestimated the amount of job opportunities in your small hometown, only receiving apologetic looks from the store owners as they tell you they don’t need any help, or worse, already have someone. Damn those 16-year-olds who only get summer jobs so they can blow their whole pay in a couple weeks before school starts again. You, on the other hand, need that money for important things, like sipping on a cocktail at a bar with a seaview.

The local hardware store next to the train station is your saving grace. It looks quite small from the outside, but once you step inside, rows of lamps and mirrors in all shapes and sizes along with all kinds of household needs welcome you, followed by a section for gardening and pet caretaking. The basement is where all the paints and brushes were, as well as the more technical (technical to you, at least) products, like bolts and tools or kitchen and bathroom appliances.

A lot of people undertake renovations in their homes during their free time in the summer, so it’s important for the store to have their experts helping out customers in their dedicated aisles rather than working behind the till and restocking the shelves, which is what you will be doing for the next two months. The pay is slightly above minimum wage and with twenty-one hours of work a week, you’ll earn more than enough to enjoy your vacation. You start tomorrow.

Your co-workers are happy to welcome a new face into their team. They’re nice even if they have the tendency to drone on about different types of tools and the importance of choosing the right brush for the surface you’re painting, which you don’t particularly care about, but you think you might as well learn as much as you can during your time here; it might always come in handy later.

As you expected, it isn’t the most stimulating job ever, but you aren’t bored out of your mind either. You make small talk with customers as they explain their purchases, some more defensively than others, even if you didn’t ask. You make sure to restock the shelves correctly and sometimes ask for help when you feel your arms giving out after hours of carrying heavy stuff. When no one’s in, you like to rearrange the cute bathroom decorations so that they make a little rainbow of toothbrush and soap holders.

You were daydreaming about what you would do with your friends in Mexico and all the cherries you could eat there when a man so handsome you thought he was a part of your dream walks in. He doesn’t notice (or maybe he just ignores it, you’re not sure) your gawking and smiles at you, saying “hello” before turning his attention to the map which details where everything is stored at the entrance of the shop. You manage a small “h-hello” back that probably doesn’t even reach his ears, and you curse yourself for doing a poor job of greeting a customer just because said customer looks like he’s been pushed from the heavens above onto this unworthy earth by the other angels who were jealous of his beauty.

You stay put behind the counter the whole time he’s there to avoid the potential embarrassment of running into him in a random aisle and making a fool of yourself. There isn’t much to do anyway, so you rearrange the organic protein bars and chewing-gum at the counter and count all the money in the cash register to distract yourself. He doesn’t spend a very long time browsing and after twenty minutes, you see him approach with a cart full of the biggest cans of paint the store offers. It’s mostly white paint, but there are some browns and grays, and one of pink as well.

You thank God for those twenty minutes because they allowed you to get a hold of yourself so that you didn’t gape at him like a dead fish instead of scanning his articles, which is what you are very professionally and expertly doing. “That’s a lot of paint,” you comment lightheartedly, partly just to prove to yourself that you can also speak in front of this man.

“I know,” he chuckles, and it seems unfair that his voice should be just as attractive as his face. “The previous owners of the house I just bought had terrible taste in wallpaper and wall colors, so I have to repaint basically the whole house. Everything has to go, really. The floors, the furniture, the lights.”

“Sounds like you’re going to have a busy summer. That’ll be $132.76, please.”

“I’ll pay by card,” he says as he brings his wallet out from his back pocket and inserts his card into the reader, which allows you to look freely at his tanned arms and the veins that protrude here and there. He can’t be older than thirty, so there’s probably not that much of an age difference between the two of you, but damn does he look more mature in the sexiest way possible than all of the male college students you’re used to seeing on a daily basis. If anything, he reminds you of the hot young Linguistics professor your whole department likes to drool over.

The beep of the payment being accepted snaps you out of your daze. “And yeah, it’ll sure be a busy summer. I’ll need a lot of stuff from here, so you might have to get used to seeing me around,” he says with a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this walking Greek god of a man is actually flirting with you, but the glint in his eyes tells you it wasn’t just an off-hand comment.

“I could get used to that,” you surprise yourself by replying confidently, your smile mirroring his as pretty dimples appear on each side of his face.

You hand him the receipt and notice his eyes flickering down to your name tag before trapping yours in his gaze once again. You don’t think you ever want to look away. “I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he says and walks out with his cart and his tons of paint before you can say anything, lest ask his name, except for “see you.”

You take a deep breath in and another out when he’s out of sight, trying to calm your racing heart. You can’t wait to rave to the girls’ group chat about this, but one of your coworkers calls you for help and you have to put the handsome stranger to the back of your mind for a while.

—

That weekend, your parents ask you to do something about the cherries slowly starting to spoil in the fridge, so you put on your headphones and listen to an audiobook for entertainment, then get to pitting. It feels wrong to listen to The Kiss Quotient and its many smut scenes when your parents are coming and going out of the room, but what they don’t know won’t kill them; you just try to keep your reactions to a minimum during the extra spicy scenes.

Pitting cherries is an arduous task that always takes longer than you think it will, but you never complain about it. You’ve found the perfect technique of cutting them in half around the pit, turning the small fruit without squeezing it, extracting the stone and making sure it doesn’t get confused and end up in the bowl with the pitted cherries, all without tiring your wrists after ten minutes. A surprise pit in a cherry pie can add to the charm of a homemade dessert, but you’d rather not have to spit out five of them while trying to eat one slice.

You prepare a crumbly dough to make two classic American-style pies and fill four jars with cherry jam that you cook while the doughs rest. It’s almost offensive how small the cherries become as they cook, the amount that fills those four jars having filled eight before, but you decide there’s no reason to take it personally since the cherries don’t do it on purpose, and put the jars away to cool down. You roll out the first rested dough and despair for a bit when it keeps on falling apart, but it just makes it more satisfying once you have it perfectly thinly rolled out and covering the tin. The second one is a bit nicer to you and you only have to try rolling it out twice.

Two hours later, as the sun finally starts to relent and a cooler breeze flows through the air, the pies are all baked, cooled and ready to be eaten. You leave one for you and your parents to enjoy later, then head over to the next house to greet your new neighbors with the other pie. You knock and wait for a good thirty seconds before getting any sort of response, making you think no one’s in.

“Y/N?” a semi-familiar voice calls out, and your head whips in its direction. If this were a cartoon or a 2012 teen show, you’d probably drop the pie tin, but thankfully, your hands aren’t that sweaty, and the shock of the man from the other day at the store being your neighbor isn’t that great, because of course, of course he’s your neighbor. You’re Y/N, after all; the almighty gods above would never let you have a boring, uneventful summer. Of course the hot new man in town is your neighbor.

“Oh! Hi! Guess we’re neighbors. Ha,” you say with a clumsy smile, holding the tin over your forearm as your other hand shields your eyes from the sunlight so you can look at him without squinting your eyes.

“Neighbors?” he repeats as he joins you on the front porch, taking off his gloves dirtied by the mud and using the back of his hand to wipe off some sweat from his forehead. The sweat makes his hair stick to his face and there are small beads of it falling from his hairline down onto his white t-shirt. You detect the slightest of stubbles on his chin and upper lip, probably from not having shaved for just a day or two. He’s even tanner than when you saw him a few days ago, and his thick eyebrows form a straight line as he frowns in what you guess is tiredness and perhaps confusion from seeing you in regular clothes and holding a pie tin on his porch. For a second, you’re scared he might think you’re some kind of stalker, but you nod and tilt your head towards your house.

“Yep. That one just over there behind you.”

He turns his upper body to take a look at your house and nods slowly as he turns back around, gaze finding yours again like the other day at the store. You have no idea who this man is - hell, you don’t even know his name - but good lord are you attracted to him, especially when he gives you that unreadable smile that shows off his dimples.

“Huh. What a coincidence,” he says, and that could mean anything in the world, but you hope he means it in a good way. “I’m Sunghoon, by the way.” he adds, extending his hand for you to take, which you do, and the simple action of shaking his hand without eye contact ever breaking is enough to send shivers down your spine. Hopefully, this goes unnoticed by this Sunghoon.

A walking wet dream. That’s what this man is. He’s walked right out of your deepest Wattpad-induced fantasies and into the house next door. Probably doesn’t help that you’d been listening to literary porn just fifteen minutes prior.

“Is that pie?” he asks as he releases your hand.

“It is, cherry pie I made myself with cherries from our backyard. A housewarming gift, if you will. Here,” you reply, offering him the tin.

He takes it from your hands, the tips of his fingers slightly grazing yours, on purpose or not, you’re not sure. He lifts some of the aluminum covering the pie and peeks underneath, then hums appreciatively. “Thanks, it looks really good. I’ve been living off of ready-meals and casseroles from the neighbors, so this’ll be really nice.”

“Well we’ve got tons of cherries, so feel free to ask whenever you want some,” you offer, and he nods. A small silence settles between the two of you and you’re about to excuse yourself so it doesn’t get awkward when he invites you in, asking if you’d like to have a piece with him.

“If you want to, I mean. I was gonna take a break anyway,” he says somewhat coyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. You’re surprised to see him being anything else other than confident and self-assured, but it only makes him look cuter in your eyes.

“Sure,” you accept with a smile, letting him lead you inside the house.

“Sorry, it smells like paint all over the house. That’s why I was outside, doing some gardening while I aired the house out,” he explains. “Let me just get some plates and a knife out. And something for us to drink. Do you want to drink something? I’ve got water, or some iced tea or lemonade. The grandma across the street made some for me,” he says all at once, and you suppress a giggle at his sudden nervous behavior.

“Sunghoon?”

“Yeah?” he responds almost immediately, turning to you just as you both reach the kitchen.

“Just water is fine.”

A shy smile makes his dimples appear once again as he nods. “Okay, sounds good.” You help him carry everything to the back porch and set down the glasses and a jug of water on a table with two chairs around it.

“The porches are the only parts I won’t have to fix up too much, for some reason.”

“You’re going to redo the whole house yourself?” you ask, surprised, as you pour two glasses of water and he serves you a slice of cherry pie (“there might be some stray cherry pits, so be careful,” you warn as he sets a slice on his plate).

“A lot of it, yeah, but I’ve also got some people to help out. My dad’s a carpenter so I know my way around these things, but I also know it’s better and faster to have more than one man on the job, so some guys he works with come a couple times a week.”

“Yeah, with the state this house is in, you’d need more than a summer if you did everything yourself,” you comment, and he chuckles, agreeing. “My friends and I used to make stories about how this place is haunted, you know,” you say jokingly.

“Please don’t jinx my house from the get-go,” he says, making you laugh.

“Sorry, sorry. It’ll be nice seeing it all fixed-up, actually.”

“Have you lived here long?” he asks, looking at you thoughtfully as he takes another bite of the pie. “This is really good, by the way.”

“Thanks. And yeah, my whole life. I go away when semester starts but come back for the holidays and the summer.”

“So you're a student?”

“Yeah, just at the state university a few hours away. Not too far away that it’s a hassle traveling back, but not too close that I go home every weekend. What about you, what do you do?”

You wait for his answer while he swallows his mouthful and take another bite yourself. “I teach,” he starts as he dabs the corners of his lips with a napkin. “Fifth graders, on the other side of town. I used to live in a small apartment near the school I work at but it’s nicer, having more space. I saved enough money to buy this house and fix it up, so here I am now,” he says, gesturing to the house and the garden with his arms.

You notice his use of the first person pronoun when he talks about where he used to live and his house now, which makes you wonder if it’s just him, even though you were sure you heard a woman and a young girl’s voices the other day. Surely, if he wasn’t single, he wouldn’t have invited you in or given you flirtatious looks, right? Or were you reading totally wrong into this and he was just an exceptionally friendly person?

You put these questions to the side and continue chatting with Sunghoon, letting the subject of his marital status come up on its own during your conversation. And indeed, you get your answer when he tells you about the different parts of the house he plans on having, one of them being a bedroom for his daughter.

“Oh, so you have a daughter? How old is she?” you ask as you take a sip of water, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Considering his age, you expect that his child will be one, two years old max, so his answer makes you almost choke on your drink.

“She’s turning eight this summer.”

“Eight?” you repeat as you set your glass down, looking at him wide-eyed. So much for nonchalance. “But you’re so-”

“Young? Yeah, I know,” he interrupts with a knowing smile, probably used to this kind of reaction. “I’m 26,” he adds, then watches as you do the simple math in your head. When you turn to him with a surprised look, he answers your question before you’ve even asked it. “Yep, I had her when I was 18.”

“Wow,” is all you can say. “Can I ask what happened?”

“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing extraordinary or anything. I was in my last year of high school, and I got my girlfriend at the time pregnant. We’d only been dating four months but her parents wouldn’t let her get an abortion. They’re really religious. They took care of our baby, with the help of my parents, while I went to community college and she retook senior year since she had to drop out halfway through the year. No, we’re not together anymore, if you’re wondering,” he says, catching you off guard, as if he’d read your thoughts.

He chuckles before sighing and continues. “If none of this had happened, we’d probably have broken up before going off to college and proceeded to forget about each other. We started out living with her parents, then got that small apartment I told you about when she found a job. We’re not on bad terms by any means, but we’ve just not been in love since Chaeryeong turned 2, probably. We’ve been more roommates than a couple for the past six years. And you know, we kept on living together for Chaer mainly, but she’s found a new boyfriend and I wanted to have my own place. Which has led me here.”

You nod slowly, letting the whole story sink in. “You’re both handling this situation really maturely, it sounds like. I’ve heard of so many teenage parents fighting all the time and not taking care of their kids properly.”

“She’s already got a weird parental situation, it’s the least we can do for her to behave like adults, you know.”

“Right, of course,” you say, nodding again. Your hot new neighbor was actually a DILF, you realized a bit inappropriately, perhaps. Cherry on top.

He tells you a bit more about his daughter and you keep talking until your dad calls you, asking you why you’re not home at dinner time, and you only notice then how long you’ve been sitting there with Sunghoon, just talking. You tell him you feel bad for taking up so much of his time but he shakes your apologies off.

“It was my pleasure, really. And thanks again for the pie, I think Chaer will love it.”

He walks you to the front door and calls out your name after you’ve waved goodbye and started walking. You didn’t know you had been expecting him to do anything until you heard the hopeful tone in your own voice. “Yeah?”

“You any good with kids?” he asks, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms and a smirk that makes your heart flutter.

Although you’ve only got one older brother, you have younger cousins as well as older ones that have babies of their own, so you’re not a complete stranger to kids, but more importantly, you like them. They have the world to learn, but they say surprisingly smart things and have really cute faces.

“I’d say that I am, yeah,” you reply, a smile growing on your face, mirroring his expression.

“Good,” he says, and pauses a second for good measure. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you later, Sunghoon,” you say as you turn back and head to your house, letting him enjoy the view of you walking away.

On the short way home, you realize that you completely have the hots for your neighbor, although you probably knew that before. Is it twisted that you like him more now that you know he’s got a kid? Probably a little bit, but you’re not going to fight it. He’s single, after all. And not even thirty. A five-year gap isn’t unheard of.

Your parents ask you where you’ve been as you set the table and get ready for dinner. “Just over at our new neighbor’s house to give him some pie and say hi,” you say as you toss the salad in its bowl, spreading the dressing evenly.

“Ooh, the neighbor,” your mother echoes knowingly, wiggling her eyebrows, and steals a leaf of lettuce when it falls from the bowl because of your vigorous tossing. “We should have him over at some point, welcome him into the neighborhood. I’ve seen him a bit, you know. Out painting on his front porch or when he was in his garden the same time as me. He’s a very attractive young man,” she says, lowering her voice so your dad doesn’t hear even though he’s outside grilling the meat. “Do you know how old he is? Looks a bit young for a homeowner to me, but who knows what young people are up to these days.

“He’s twenty-six, and he’s saved a lot of money. Plus, I don’t think that house was very expensive. From what he’s told me, the renovations will basically cost as much as the house itself. He’s also got a kid.”

“Aw, must be a cute baby,” she says as your father walks in, carrying a tray of steaming barbecued steaks and potatoes.

“She’s eight,” you say bluntly, causing them both to look at you with wide eyes.

“Oh, right, then. Happens,” your mother says, bringing her glass of water to her lips and taking a sip from it. “Is he still with the mother?”

“They broke up a while ago, but they’re on good terms,” you say, and your mom nods slowly at the information.

“So, he’s single, huh?” she says, trying to hide her smile, earning herself a groan from your dad and a chuckle from you.

“C’mon, mom!”

“What? You can’t deny that he’s attractive, and he’s single. Plus, you two must get along well if you spent a couple hours talking. Sure, he’s got a kid, but you love those, don’t you?”

“Mom, you of all people would know kids aren’t pets. Dating someone with an eight-year-old isn’t the same as dating someone with a cat.

“No one’s asking you to be that girl’s mom,” she says, dishing out some meat for the three of you. “I’d go get that man, if I were you.”

Your dad shakes his head and you eat your food as you listen to them bickering with a smile. You think about what your mother said - should you go and get Sunghoon? Your heart says yes, but your brain is a bit more reluctant. Another part of your body, lower down there, is screaming ‘yes’ at you.

He does live right by, after all.

That night, you FaceTime your roommate and best friend from college and bring her up to date about ‘the hot man from the store the other day.’ She paints her toenails but listens intently as she always does when you talk about boys, humming and chuckling here and there.

“God, Y/N, I didn’t know you had daddy issues, of all things.”

You gasp fake-dramatically. “Excuse me, I do not! I was attracted to him before I knew he was a dad, I’ll let you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let me know when you guys actually hook up, I’m curious whether older men are actually better,” she says, making you scoff.

“I hope he is. I’m very much tired of those boys that don’t know where the clit is and use too much tongue.”

“You know, when I complain to my mom about guys, she always tells me to wait it out a few years. She says they get more mature and, well, she didn’t say that outright, but she very heavily implied that the sex is much, much better. Kinda gross hearing it from her, but it’s good information.”

You hum. “Well, he’s not that much older… But let’s hope that it still makes a difference,” you say, and then move on to another topic.

—

One thing that eating cherries has taught you is that if you want to enjoy eating the sweet flesh, you’ll need to deal with the pit as well. Ever the grand philosopher, you realized soon enough that this was applicable to real life and not just your favorite fruit. Wanna get a good grade on your test? Gotta study for it. Wanna go on holiday to Mexico? Gotta find a summer job and earn money.

Wanna make your way to Sunghoon’s bed? Gotta seduce him.

Over the following days, you stand behind the counter at the hardware store, elbow perched on the hard surface, head resting on your palm and vision fuzzy as you daydream about your next encounter with Sunghoon. More often than not, a customer will clear their throat to awkwardly let you know of their presence and you’ll have to exchange your imagined dialogue with Sunghoon for a quick apology and some pleasantries; more often than not, a coworker will call out your name for some help just as you get to the juicy part of your reverie. In those moments, you always feel like you’ve been caught red-handed watching softcore porn, even if no one knows the last thing about what goes on in your head, nor do they care.

Much like the first time he walked into the store, when he does again on a Thursday morning, you think your daydreams have just gone too far and you’re now hallucinating. But, lo and behold, this is the true Park Sunghoon in the flesh, and he smiles and waves at you as he strides in before disappearing behind one of the many aisles.

You spend the next fifteen minutes going over witty conversation starters that will surely make him fall for you, only for you to stutter out a “h-hi, Sunghoon,” when he finally reaches the counter.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he jokes, and you laugh a bit too hard for a comment that isn’t that funny.

“How are the renovations going?” you ask as you scan his articles - some more paint and brushes, lots of tile glue, a bunch of nails and two different sizes of turnscrews. He frowns in concentration at the snacks next to the counter until he caves in and gets a chocolate protein bar that’s more sugar than protein.

“Pretty okay,” he starts. “I’m in a bit of a rush, cause Chaer is already coming in two weeks and I need to have finished at least the interior by that time. My dad’s friends helped me get the roof done, so that’s good, but now they’re all busy with other sites so it's just me. Right now I’m redoing the tiles in the bathrooms. You need so much damn glue,” he says with a chuckle.

You think for a second, then timidly offer, “I could help out, you know. If you needed me to.”

He looks at you with raised eyebrows, halfway through getting his card out of his wallet. “Really?”

“I mean, I don’t have much experience with this kinda stuff, but I’ve picked up a few things here and there from working here. If it saves you time, I could do the easy things. This job isn’t particularly physically demanding so I’ve still got energy at the end of the day. That’s $78.96, please.”

A small smile appears on his face as he inserts his card into the reader. He punches in his code and then returns your gaze. “That could be nice, actually.”

And that’s how you find yourself over at Sunghoon’s house in denim shorts and your dad’s old t-shirts almost everyday for the next two weeks, helping him fix up the old two-storey home. He measures out the perfect length for wood planks or marble tiles that you assist him in fastening to the floors of different rooms and he fixes holes in walls that you paint over afterwards. Sometimes on your breaks, you share a bowl of cherries that you brought from your garden. (One morning, you tried to make cherry juice out of them, but when after almost two hours of pitting the liquid barely filled a glass, you decided that it was too much effort and that you’d keep on just eating them and baking the occasional pie.) You asked him to tell you what each of the rooms upstairs would be and you realized that the window of his room faced yours directly. The blinds were down as they had always been, so you hadn’t known what the room would be.

“I’ve been sleeping on the couch since I haven’t gotten around to fixing up this room yet. Guess I should get to it, though,” he says, giving you a look that blurs the meaning of his words so that you’re not sure what he’s implying, which happens a bit too often with Sunghoon.

And you’d think that spending the better part of two weeks with the current man of your dreams would be amazing, right?

Wrong. It’s unbearable.

Maybe that’s exaggerating it - it’s mostly fun, and sometimes unbearable. Usually, you’re an avid fan of sexual tension, especially with attractive men like Sunghoon. Lingering gazes, eye contacts when there shouldn’t be any, remarks with a deeper meaning that they let on, barely-there touches on the back of your hand or on your waist that manage to take your breath away. These are all very fine things that keep your heart bouncing and a blush on your cheeks, but they are supposed to amount to something more in the end. Maybe you’re impatient, but after two weeks of sending sex through your eyes to Sunghoon, you get the feeling that he doesn’t reciprocate your desire. One afternoon, you’d made sure to go and sunbathe in your bikini at the exact moment he was doing some work outside, and even then, he merely gave your body a one-over and disappeared a few minutes later inside his house. When he came back about ten minutes later, he could still barely look at you.

At the same time, there’s no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he stands close behind you, letting you feel the warmth of his chest against your back, big, rough hands enveloping yours as he demonstrates how to cut a plank of wood with the machine. There’s no way the way he smirks when the action turns you into a stammering mess is innocent, either.

Yet nothing happens. The tension is thick enough to be cut with a knife, but maybe Sunghoon hasn’t bought cutlery yet. The air is already heavy from the heat and the relentlessness of the sun, but this thing between you and him makes it almost suffocating, in somehow the best yet worst way possible. You’re this close to simply throwing your naked body at him, and it doesn’t help that you see his flexing, working muscles and beads of sweat on his hairline everyday. On the days he wears shorts, which is most days, all you can think of is getting off on his thick thighs, of his hands holding you tightly by the waist, of the way he’d look at you, eyes clouded over, of the words he’d whisper in your-

Your phone buzzes, interrupting you in your horny downward spiral. It’s your dear mother telling you to come home for dinner. As you pick up your phone, a second buzz. Ask Sunghoon if he wants to eat with us.

You find him in his bedroom, adding the last touches to the walls. “I think I’ll be able to sleep here starting tomorrow night. I just need to go buy a bed,” he says when he sees your figure standing in the doorway.

“We can go together if you want,” you blurt before you can stop yourself. Hoping it’ll make you seem less weird, you add, “I’ve got really good taste in furniture.”

“Is that so?” he questions, turning to you with a smile. “I’d appreciate the second pair of eyes, actually. There’s a lot of things I need to get.”

“Yeah, I didn’t wanna comment on it, but I think you’ll end up needing more than a couch, a plastic dining table and two chairs,” you tease, making him roll his eyes lightheartedly. “We can go to that huge second-hand store they have just outside of town. You’ll be surprised how good - and cheap - the furniture is there.”

“Sounds good,” he nods, and checks his watch. “Are you going home?”

“I am. My mom’s invited you over for dinner, if you’d like,” you say, tilting your head at him.

He raises his eyebrows in delighted surprise. “I’d love to. Just need to shower first.”

“That’s fine. I’ll go home, just come over whenever you’re ready.” You exchange quick see you laters and you head home, taking a shower yourself and making sure to use your best-smelling body lotion.

Sunghoon arrives half an hour later with a bouquet of roses in his hands and an award-winning smile on his face. You let him in and he greets your parents, offering your mother the bouquet. “Sorry I took so much time getting here, I wanted to pick these out as a thank you.”

You can tell your mother is pleased to the heavens as she waves him off, leading him inside your house. “That’s awfully nice of you, Mr Park-”

“Call me Sunghoon, please,” he says with a warm smile.

“Right, Sunghoon. And no worries, you’re just on time. Please, sit.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Oh, no, you’re working all day fixing up that house, just sit and relax. We’re very happy to have you over, aren’t we?” your mother says, sending a very obvious smile your way, which makes you furrow your eyebrows and shake your head lightly at her, silently telling her to shut up. Sunghoon chuckles at the exchange but says nothing and you want to bury yourself and your mother ten feet underground.

Sunghoon sits across from you at the dinner table, which allows you to stare unabashedly at him as he works his charm on your parents. He’s the neighbor, so technically, he’s not a boyfriend you brought home to meet them, but still, you can’t help but compare him to those few boys that you did bring home. None of them were a disaster, but none of them went as smoothly as this, either. There were always some awkward silences and dry chuckles with your past boyfriends, but Sunghoon clearly knows how to make parents happy. Maybe because he lived with his ex’s parents for so long, or maybe because he’s a parent himself. Either way, it only adds to your desire to take all of his clothes and let him rail you into next week. Too bad he clearly doesn’t feel the same way, you remind yourself with an audible sigh, which makes him look curiously at you, but you brush it off with a smile.

You watch as he accepts a beer, compliments the food and the house, talks football with your dad, accepts another beer, and shares teaching anecdotes with your mom, who herself is an elementary school teacher. You jump in every now and then when you have something witty to add or someone asks your opinion on something, but most of the time, you sit back and enjoy, happy that everything is going well.

You bring out your infamous cherry pie that you’d baked the previous day along with some vanilla ice cream for dessert, and smile when Sunghoon tells you how much he’d been waiting to have some of it again, trying not to blush as his gaze stays focused on yours for a second too long. Thankfully, your parents don’t notice, too busy cutting themselves a slice.

He stays for another hour or so, until the sun has set and the streetlamps and the moonlight are the only things keeping the world visible. Your mom forces him to accept tupperwares full of leftovers from the night and makes him promise to come back with his daughter. Sneakily, she tells you to help him carry the tupperwares home even though he’s more than able to do it himself, then hugs him goodbye, hurrying you out of the door.

Sunghoon hasn’t yet changed the lightbulbs to more efficient ones, so his kitchen bathes in the faint glow of the overhead lighting as you put away the leftovers in his fridge. He stands a bit to your right close behind you, closer than needed to simply hand you the tupperwares he was holding. When everything is stored, you turn around, but you’re trapped between his body and his arm that holds the fridge door open. With his free hand, he takes you by the waist and pulls you gently towards him. “Careful,” he says so quietly, it’s almost a whisper, and closes the fridge door behind you.

He’s never been this forward with you, and even though you’ve fantasized many times about this exact moment, now that it’s really happening, you don’t know what to do except to search for an explanation in his eyes. His eyes that are looking right into yours and are a bit clouded over, from the alcohol or the proximity between the two of you or both, you don’t know, but that also have the twinkle of a smile in them.

His lips are close enough to kiss, you think, and as if on cue, his gaze drifts down to your slightly parted lips. “You’re very pretty, Y/N,” he says, before sealing your lips with his own. You respond immediately to his kiss - you’ve thought too much about it to stand there and do nothing - but it’s all so slow and so soft that you’re not sure if it’s actually happening, so dreamlike it all feels.

You’re called back to reality when his other hand finds your waist, your own hands coming up to his shoulders before one of them snakes its way to the nape of his neck, tugging lightly at his hair. This seems to change something in Sunghoon, who all of a sudden tightens his hold on your waist, his arms wrapping around it to bring you closer to him. His kiss gets faster and deeper too, and, to your surprise but not your distaste, a bit desperate. You’re happy if you have on him half of the power he has on you. You taste sweet vanilla ice cream and tangy beer on his tongue, and it’s not at all unpleasant. It makes you want to eat cherries together so you can then taste them in his kiss.

A lustful sigh escapes your lips and then the warmth disappears all at once. Sunghoon looks at you like you just woke him up from a deep slumber and takes a step back away from you. You call out for him worriedly and the sound of his name seems to make him think he did something terribly wrong.

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N, I don’t know what came over me. We shouldn’t do this, it’s not- I shouldn’t have done that,” he sighs, looking defeatedly at the ground.

“Why?” you ask quietly, almost inaudible.

“You should go home,” he snaps, then closes his eyes as if in pain, cringing at his harsh tone. “I’m sorry. I think you should go home, it’s getting late,” he repeats, softer this time, but the words still sting.

“O-okay,” you say to the floor, already feeling tears well up in your eyes. You feel like you just got rejected by your high school crush, and the humiliation makes you want to crawl into a hole and die.

Sunghoon sighs again. “I’ll let you know tomorrow about the furniture shopping, yeah? Chaeryeong is coming in the morning so we can go with her.”

“O-okay,” you repeat, surprised he still wants to do that with you. “Good night, Sunghoon,” you say without looking at him and scurry out of his house.

“Good night, Y/N,” Sunghoon answers to the emptiness after you’ve left, touching his lips with the tips of his fingers and feeling the ghost of your kiss there.

—

Truth be told, you haven’t always loved cherries. Because of a heinous lie your older brother had made you believe when you were just six years old, you hadn’t eaten cherries for two summers in a row. It was the summer your parents had finally allowed you to eat cherries as they came from the trees in your backyard - beforehand, they’d been too scared that you’d choke on the pit or swallow it unknowingly, and had always prepared purées or other forms that cherries can take for you to eat, so to be finally handed the small fruit and told “go ahead, try it,” felt like an honor.

A simple “don’t forget to spit out the pit” from your mother had sufficed for you to be careful, and yet, your brother had thought a fear tactic would be more effective. “If you swallow it, a tree will grow inside your belly and make you puke out cherries,” he’d lied when it was just the two of you at the outdoor table.

“Really?” you asked him in disbelief, horror written all over your face as you looked at the seemingly harmless yet deadly fruit in your hand. You’d already eaten two and were in the middle of eating a third; your brother nodding ‘yes’ in response was all it took for you to spit out the cherry furiously and immediately start sobbing, afraid you’d swallowed one even though all three pits were right there on the table, a guarantee that no unwanted flora would grow inside of you.

Your mother rushed outside at the sound of your wailing and quickly put two and two together when she saw your brother laughing uncontrollably while you hid your face in your hands, desolately imagining your future as a walking cherry tree. She held you tight in her arms as she told your brother off and reassured you that he was just playing a stupid prank on you. Still, the simple thought of swallowing a pit had terrified you and you were unable to eat cherries for the remainder of the summer and the one after that.

This is the story you tell Chaeryeong and her dad as the three of you sit outside together, making them laugh - although, a few minutes later, when Sunghoon is gone to the bathroom away, Chaer leans over the table and whispers, “It’s not true, is it?” so you reassure her that you’ve eaten cherries your whole life and have never had one single root take life in your tummy.

It’s been a bit over a week after you shared that kiss in his kitchen, and the awkward atmosphere is just starting to fade. You’re glad he didn’t ignore you after that night, even if pretending nothing happened when both of you are very aware that something did happen is only the slightly better alternative. It’s a refreshing change from boys that sleep with you and then act like you don’t exist, for sure.

The kiss hasn’t done anything to burst the tension; if anything, it’s made it even more electric. You catch him looking at your lips more than once and you wonder why he still acts the same way as before when he’s made it very clear he didn’t think kissing you was a good idea. Catching him shirtless one night in his bedroom doesn’t help, and neither does him catching you staring at him - you’d quickly shut the curtains, but it was too late, and he’d seen you ogling his toned chest and abs.

At least, the fact that Chaeryeong is here forces a bubbly atmosphere upon you, and you hope you’re not crazy when you notice him fondly looking at the both of you interacting. Chaer is an outgoing little girl and seems to have liked you as soon as you complimented the toy puppy in her hand, saying you used to have the same and it was your favorite.

The day you went food shopping was practically hell to get through. One evening, you were holding onto Sunghoon for dear life, finally kissing him, and the next afternoon, you were browsing through the endless aisles of your local IKEA, holding his daughter’s hand and pretending like you hadn’t kissed her daddy.

When it got to the bedroom part of the store, you and Chaer decided to try all the mattresses and find the most comfortable one. You usually were never one for seating and laying on random beds in stores, but there was a kid with you, so you were sure it’d be fine. When you found the one you liked most, you looked up at Sunghoon from your position and said, “This one’s pretty good, Sunghoon.” His immediately reddening cheeks told you everything you needed to know and you quickly sat up, clearing your throat. He tested the mattress by pushing his palm against it and muttered a “yeah, it’s pretty good” before scribbling down the number of the mattress onto the small sheet of paper customers use to remember which products they wanted.

Of course, now that Chaer is with him and most of the work in the house is done, save for some minor things that Sunghoon can finish up on his own, you spend a lot less time together. You hate that you miss him so much. You miss the way he makes you feel, like your whole body is on fire with just one look or one touch, the way his stupid jokes make you laugh or how endeared he looks when he talks about his daughter. Seeing him with her only adds to your stupid crush - he’s doting, protective and caring, makes sure she has everything to be happy and manages to treat her at once like the kid that she is but also like a human that has opinions and feelings. He’s a really good dad, and that does nothing whatsoever to stop your DILF fantasies, although now, it’s really Sunghoon that you want, and the fact that he’s a dad isn’t a dealbreaker, it just makes him that much better.

You hate that you miss him, and yet being with him is somehow worse, because you can’t do any of the things you want to do. You fall asleep one two many nights dreaming about his lips and how nice it’d be to feel them again - on your lips, on your neck, everywhere. You want to feel him everywhere, and this longing lust is starting to drive you crazy. You’d never wanted anyone this much.

He invites you over for dinner one night, and the look he gives you when he opens the door sends a shiver right down your spine. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Sunghoon.”

He leads you into the kitchen with a hand on your waist, even though you’ve been in his house many times before and need no assistance getting there. A small, horny voice at the back of your head tells you that tonight may be the night, but you quickly shut it down, not wanting to get your hopes up all on your own.

Sunghoon serves you a glass of red wine, and you ask him what the occasion is. “Just to celebrate the house being almost done,” he answers with a smile.

Dinner would have gone as usual if Sunghoon wasn’t practically staring you down the whole time, eyes full of something you can’t quite put your finger on and that drives you crazy. His gaze lingers on you every time you speak, and he punctuates the syllables of your name like he’s trying to get a feel for them on his tongue.

Your heart is pounding in your chest when the clock strikes nine p.m. and it’s time for Chaeryeong to go to bed - you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle being alone with Sunghoon, and you might have to make a run for it, Cinderella-style.

Chaer goes to the bathroom to wash up and change into her pajamas, and when she comes back, she asks - no, demands - that you’re the one who tucks her in, and who are you to say no to the cutest little girl on Earth? She holds you by the pinky as she drags you up the stairs to her room then buries herself in her covers, tapping on the bed next to her body for you to sit there. “Okay, now we can talk without Dad around,” she says all business-like.

She tells you about the boys at her school and the birthday party she went to last week and the latest drama with her friends. The both of you are too busy chatting and giggling to hear footsteps coming up the stairs and stopping at her door, hiding behind the wall. After ten minutes, she yawns loudly and says, “Can you call Dad? I think he’ll be sad if he doesn’t wish me good night.”

“Of course,” you reply and kiss her on the forehead, wishing her a good night yourself. You’re only half-surprised to find Sunghoon at the doorway, waiting for his cue.

“Wait up for me, yeah? I’ll just be a minute,” he says, that smile still on his lips, that smile that keeps you hoping.

“Okay,” you whisper, and head downstairs, nervously taking a sip from your wine glass as you wait for him on the living room couch.

He is indeed back in a very short time, too short a time for your nerves to settle, so when he sits down close to you on the couch, body turned towards yours, you can feel your heart in your throat. He traces the rim of his glass with the tip of his pointer finger and you both watch the slow movement for a bit, a heavy silence hanging over both of your heads. You wait for him to talk because you’re too scared of what you might say if you start the conversation.

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking,” he starts shakily, “about um, our kiss, the other day-”

“Oh, we don’t need to talk about that,” you quickly interrupt, waving your hand in dismissal at him. “You made it clear you didn’t like it-”

“No, that’s the thing-”

“And that you thought it was a bad idea-”

“No, just listen-”

“So let’s just forget about it, and-”

“Y/N,” Sunghoon says in a stern voice, raising his tone just enough to make you stop in your rambling.

“Yeah?” you look up at him, eyes wide open. Expecting, as always.

“I haven’t once stopped thinking about that kiss,” he says, sounding out-of-breath. “I handled it awfully, and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t like it, because, God, I liked it. A lot,” he chuckles. “Maybe even too much.”

There they are, the words you’ve been dying to hear. Yet all you can say is a stupid “Oh.”

“I just… I was tipsy, and Chaeryeong was coming the next morning, and I panicked. I didn’t know what to do for the rest of the week, and you didn’t say anything, so I didn’t, either. But I can’t pretend like it isn’t there.”

“Like what isn’t there?” you echo, voice almost low as a whisper.

“You know… this,” he replies, voice as low as yours. Slowly, one of his hands comes up to trace your jawline. You release a shaky breath as you set your wine glass on the coffee table and rest your hand on his knee.

“Are you sure about this? ‘Cause if you tell me that you want me… then I’ll be all yours, Sunghoon,” you murmur, hands slowly sliding up his thigh. He takes you by the wrist and puts your hand right on top of his already growing erection, letting you know exactly how he feels about you.

“God, can’t you see what you do to me? I want you so bad, Y/N,” he almost growls, and with that, his lips are on yours, trapping you into a kiss far hungrier and more ferocious than the previous kiss, your mutual intentions finally laid out in front of you for you both to see.

Sunghoon wastes no time as he grabs you by the waist and brings you to his lap, sitting you on top of his crotch so that you can feel his hardening cock against your core. The kiss turns desperate in mere seconds, and you’re relieved to see that Sunghoon seems to have been waiting for this as long and with as much ardor as you have. Your hands are fisting his hair, tugging almost harshly, while his hands roam the expanse of your back until they settle on your ass, grabbing at it to press you closer to him. You can’t stop yourself from moaning into his mouth when his erection rubs over your core in just the right way, and he takes that opportunity to add tongue to the kiss, deepening it.

You start to grind yourself against him, which he helps you do by slightly rutting his hips into yours and bringing your ass closer at every movement. Quickly, you fall into a rhythm so perfect and that feels so good, you think you might explode right then and there. Forget riding his thigh, this is infinitely better.

Needing to catch your breath, you pull away from the kiss, but your lips find his jaw immediately and you start pressing wet, needy kisses there and down his neck, sucking in some spots so that light bruises appear. “Fuck, Y/N, that feels so nice,” he breathes, eyes shut closed. His scent drives you crazy, and his small praise makes you double down on your actions, almost biting the soft skin of his neck.

As you continue kissing him there, occasionally returning to his lips for more, his hands roam your thighs and then up your back, snaking themselves under your t-shirt and finding the clasp of your bra, quickly doing away with it. He pulls away just so he can help you out of your top and takes your bra off of you, hands caressing your sides as he admires your half-naked body in all its glory. You take his hands and bring them to your chest, resting your hands on top of his as you continue grinding onto him and let him play with your boobs. “You’re so fucking hot,” he practically moans, making you chuckle. You reach for the hem of his t-shirt, because it’s only fair that you get to see him too, and you bite back a moan when he uses the absence of your hands on his to pinch your nipples lightly, then takes one in his mouth, catching you off-guard. You forget all about your plan of undressing him as his tongue flicks at the perked bud, your hands finding his hair again as you moan unabashedly.

“S-Sunghoon,” you breathe, the combined feelings of his now fully hard cock pressing against your clothed but soaking cunt and of his warm mouth around your nipples really getting to your head and making you see stars, so that all you can say is his name. “Please,” you beg, you’re not sure what for. Mercy, perhaps. Or release.

“Please what, baby?” he asks, and the nickname goes straight to your core.

“I don’t- just, please, Sunghoon, please,” you say incoherently, making him chuckle.

“Okay,” he says as if he can read your mind, and you think he actually does when he lays you down on the couch, fingers finding the zipper of your shorts. He unbuttons them and slides them down your legs along with your soaked panties. He makes sure they’re fully off of your body before running his palms up both of your legs, from your ankles to your hips.

“Don’t tease, please,” you plead, too desperate for him to take his time.

“As you wish, princess,” he smirks, and brings a finger to your folds, sliding it down to gather some slick before pushing it inside your hole. Your back arches as an instant response to his touch and you let out a small whine, already craving for more. “Fuck, so wet, and all for me, yeah?” he questions, his eyes not once leaving your glistening pussy.

“Yes,” you breathe out, mind too fuzzy to produce a longer sentence.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos, and adds another finger, pushing all three of his knuckles in and massaging your sweet spot as soon as he finds it. When he’s found a rhythm for his motions, he finally looks up at you and curses himself for not having watched your face earlier. Head tilted back in pleasure, mouth agape as your breathing gets more and more irregular and eyebrows scrunched together, you look like the definition of sex, and it takes everything in Sunghoon to not start touching himself.

He forces himself to look away from you only to focus back on your pussy and notices your swollen clit that is begging for attention. He licks it tentatively, and when your back arches at the feeling of his tongue on you, he dives in completely, licking a stripe up your folds before wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking at it like he did with your nipples earlier. The pace at which his fingers are pumping out of you quickens and you’re pulling so hard at his hair, you think you might rip some strands off. You feel yourself getting close, and you’re reminded of all those frustrating encounters with college boys where they stopped right before you came, so you can’t stop yourself as you desperately chant “oh my God please don’t stop please don’t stop,” not even noticing the way you’re holding his head down against your clit and bucking your hips into his face.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck - this is probably the first one you’ve received from someone other than your own hand or your vibrator in the past year and a half. It takes your breath away, and you’re left gasping for air for a good thirty seconds, your mind reeling from the intensity of such pleasure. When you calm down, you lift your head to look at Sunghoon who’s already watching you with a grin on his face, your slick coating his chin and mouth.

You plop your head back down with a groan when realization hits you. “I’m sor-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Sunghoon commands, hands rubbing your still-trembling thighs. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he marvels, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Really?”

“Really.”

After another couple of seconds, you sit up on the couch and send Sunghoon a mischievous look. My turn, you think, and if his smile is any indicator then he seems to have understood. “Let me thank you,” you say, gesturing at him to sit up himself as you lower yourself to your knees on the couch in front of him.

You look up at him from between his thighs then unclasp his belt and undo his jeans. He lets out a shaky breath and says, “You don’t need to do this, you know-”

“Don’t be a gentleman, Sunghoon. I want to do this and I know you want it too. It’s pretty obvious,” you tease as you run your hand over his erection, watching in delight as his eyebrows furrow and his eyes close. “Now help me get these off of you.” He nods and raises his hips so you can take his jeans and underwear off, imitating his actions from before as you take your time to get them over his ankles and caressing his legs until they reach his crotch, watching as he takes his t-shirt off as well so that you can finally see him entirely. You’d caught glimpse of him shirtless before as he worked in his garden, but the sight still manages to take your breath away. Taut muscles and sun-tanned skin, laid bare right before you. This is what they mean by sculpted like a Greek god, you think.

You haven’t done anything, yet his head is already laid back against the top of the couch, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he gulps in expectation and chest rising visibly at every intake of breath. You must’ve saved a thousand souls in your previous life to be deserving of such an image.

You spit in your palm before taking him, starting out by slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft, then rubbing small circles against his tip, the small moan-like sighs that leave his lips letting you know you’re doing a good job. You gather some saliva in your mouth and spit on his length to add some lubricant and smirk when he lets out a low fuck. You bring your head closer and lick his balls, taking one at a time in your mouth and sucking very gently, making the volume of his moans increase. “Just like- fuck, just like that, Y/N.”

You then lick a long stripe up his cock and swirl your tongue around his tip when you reach it, humming at the taste of precum there. Sunghoon gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail so it doesn’t get in your way, and finally looks down at you, blown away by the beautiful sight of your flushed cheeks and your mouth around his cock. He groans when you take him deeper and unconsciously bucks his hips into your throat, making you gag around him. He loves that feeling but doesn’t want to hurt you so he grabs your face and makes you look up at him, lust and worry written all over his face as he apologizes, but you quickly stop him. “It’s okay, I like it. You can do it again,” you say, and smile before wrapping your lips around him once more.

“Fuck, are you sure?” he asks and you hum, sending vibrations all over his body.

“God, o-okay,” he says, in disbelief that you’re okay with him practically fucking your throat and even liking it. And you do like it - you love letting him use your mouth to get off, just like you had earlier with him. He must have amazing core strength because he’s able to buck his hips into your mouth rapidly as he holds your head tight in his hands. The way you keep coming back for more every time he lets you breathe is enough to drive him crazy, but after a couple minutes, he stops you from taking him in your mouth again.

“I can’t- I don’t wanna cum like this,” he breathes, looking just as fucked-out as you do.

“Where, then?” you ask, kissing him all over his thighs as he trails his fingers through your hair. “Inside?”

He groans at the offer but shakes his head, eyes shut as if trying to calm himself down. “I haven’t got any condoms.”

“I’m on the pill,” you tell him, still pressing kisses on his warm skin. You’re far too desperate to feel him inside you to let a lack of condom stop you, especially when you don’t even need one.

He lets out an umpteenth shaky breath and makes you look up at him. “Are you sure?”

“Sunghoon,” you say, looking him dead in the eyes, “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” You’re relieved when he smiles and nods, bending down to trap your lips in a heated kiss for good measure. Something about being in this position, kneeling in front of his spread thighs and having to look up at him, turns you on even more.

“Okay, then,” he says, still smiling as he pulls away, holding you gently by the chin. “I don’t think I’ll be able to last long, and I want to feel you cum around me. So, tell me, what’s your favorite position, princess?”

The question takes you aback but you answer it anyway, looking at the ground. “Reverse cowgirl…” you admit shyly, a small smile spreading on your lips.

“Reverse cowgirl, huh?” Sunghoon repeats, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking. “Come here, then,” he says, and helps you up, making you turn around so your back faces him and seats you down on top of him, keeping your hips raised. He takes his cock inside his hands, pumps it a few more times before guiding it to your entrance, pressing kisses to your shoulders and nape to make you relax.

You moan at the simple feeling of his tip teasing your entrance and Sunghoon whispers “I know, baby” against your skin. “Sit down for me,” he commands gently, and you oblige, lowering your hips slowly to feel all of him stretching you out, the both of you moaning in synchronization when he bottoms out.

Sunghoon wraps an arm around your middle and pulls you onto him so that your back rests against his chest and you can let your head hang back next to his. “Let me do all the work, yeah?” he murmurs into your ear, and you hum in response. He doesn’t move for a bit, roaming his large hands all over your body until he feels your walls relax around him. One of his hands finds your breasts, playing with each nipple in turn, while the other finds your clit. It’s all so much but so good that you’re already a moaning mess before he’s even started moving. “Ready?” he asks, but you’re too far gone to answer.

His pace starts out slow, but you’re impatient and whine as you try to move your hips against his to go faster, which makes him tut. “I told you I’d do the work, didn’t I?” he asks, pinching one of your nipples in reprimand. “So be good for me and stay still, Y/N. I promise I’ll make you feel good.” You whine again but stop moving, heeding his words.

“Perfect,” he whispers and kisses your neck before picking up the pace, shushing you when your moans get too loud.

“I’m sorry, just feels too good,” you manage to let out.

“I know, but you need to stay quiet, baby,” he says, yet gets rougher with his thrusts, which does not help in the slightest. His hand that was on your breasts comes up to cover your mouth, but he quickly decides to make you suck on two of his fingers instead, muffling your moans a bit.

His fingers on your clit haven’t relented this whole time and after just a few minutes, you feel that familiar knot tying itself again in your stomach and you know you’re mere moments away from it coming undone. Judging by his rapid but clumsy thrusts, Sunghoon must be close too. He pounds into you like you’ve been wanting him to ever since you first set eyes on him as he entered the hardware store, hitting your g-spot over and over again. Tears roll down your cheeks and you whimper around his fingers, biting down on them as your second orgasm hits you.

You’re practically sobbing as he helps you ride out your high, his movements sending your body into pleasant overstimulation until he reaches his high too, the feeling of your pussy clenching tightly around him pushing him over the edge. Ropes of his semen paint your walls white, and there’s enough of it for him to become a father of two. You whine as he pulls away, and feel his cum slipping out of you and onto the couch underneath you. Before you can catch your breath, he asks, “Baby, can I do something very dirty?” and you nod without thinking much. This man could do anything he wanted to you, and you’d thank him for it.

He settles you back down onto the couch, kneels on the floor, head level with your core, and sticks his tongue inside your hole, making you yelp in surprise and overstimulation. You don’t understand what he’s doing until he comes back up and makes you open your mouth with his thumb, then spits inside it, telling you to swallow. You do as he says and taste his cum, laughing in disbelief at what he just did - and at how much you liked it. “Fuck,” you giggle.

“Was that too much?”

“God, no,” you say, and he smiles. You open your arms, gesturing for him to get back on the couch. He rests his head between your breasts, the both of you sighing in contentment as he rubs small circles on your belly and you graze your fingers through his hair. He’s so silent that you think he’s fallen asleep, but he speaks up after a while, voice soft and calm like you’ve never heard before.

“We should go get cleaned up…” he says, and you hum in agreement, “...but it’s so nice here,” he finishes, making you giggle.

“If we get cleaned up quickly now, we can cuddle in bed right afterwards,” you argue.

“You’re right. Infallible logic. You’re so smart, you know that, Y/N?” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Of course I know that,” you joke. “Let’s go,” you say, kissing the top of his head.

You take a shower together, cleaning each other and leaving kisses here and there, or touching in places you shouldn’t touch and that maybe lead to more, right there in the shower. Now that you’ve had a taste, you’re insatiable, and you warn Sunghoon that the both of you are in for a very long night, to which he answers that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Once you do fall asleep, (which isn’t until two rounds later, and you’re surprised either of you have this much energy), however, you’re holding each other tightly, the fan on high so that you don’t feel all sticky, being so close to each other. Even if you wake up here and there because he shuffled or he snored too loudly, it’s one of the best sleeps you’ve ever had.

—

You wake up the next morning by small giggles and snorts that come from none other than Park Chaeryeong herself, who’s buried herself between you and her dad, shaking her body to wake the two of you. You’re glad that you listened to Sunghoon when he told you to put on a t-shirt of his as well as some underwear so neither you or Chaer would have a fright when she came and woke you up as she liked to do every morning. “You had a sleepover!” she exclaims excitedly when she sees you’ve finally opened your eyes, looking at her with a sleepy expression and a smile.

“We did!” you reply, trying to keep the same level of excitement.

“We did,” Sunghoon repeats, taking his daughter in her arms to hug her tightly and blows a raspberry in her neck to make her laugh.

“You didn’t invite me!” she shrieks when her dad’s left her alone.

“Sorry, sweetheart. It was just me and Y/N.”

“No fun,” she pouts, laying on her back and crossing over arms before turning back to her dad. “So, is Y/N my new mom?” she whispers even though you’re right there. You gasp at her question, making wide eyes at Sunghoon who just snorts, and you can’t tell if she’s genuinely asking or if she’s an eight-year-old with an advanced sense of irony.

“Of course not. Is Heeseung your new dad?” he asks, mentioning his ex’s new boyfriend. Chaer shakes her head.

“No. He’s Mommy’s boyfriend.”

“Exactly, and Y/N is Daddy’s girlfriend. Isn’t she?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you, smirking.

“She is,” you reply, and Chaer turns back to you, giggling. She snuggles close to you, wrapping an arm around your middle, and you’re taken aback by the sheer cuteness of it all. You look at Sunghoon with a fake pained expression, and he smiles endearingly at the two of you before sighing and joining you in your hug. He rests his arms around you and his daughter, kissing the top of your heads in turn.

“My girls,” he mutters in your hair, and you smile peacefully.

There’s a lot of things you have to talk about with Sunghoon. You know your parents - especially your mom - will be okay with the two of you together, but will his parents be? And once semester starts again, what will happen? You’ll have to go back to campus and he’ll have to stay here - will a three-hour drive be a dealbreaker, or will you make it work?

The thing is, there’s no point in thinking about all of this at this moment. You’ve got the whole summer to figure things out. For now, you’ll eat cherries and spit out the pits, and everything will be perfect.

this is a one shot, there will not be a part two!

permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts (ask to be removed/added!)

#enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #enhypen hard hours #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfiction #sunghoon fanfiction #enhypen imagines #sunghoon imagines

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t3ag3rs · 5 days

Text

♡ younger! s/o x bakugou headcannons !

YALL DONT THINK OF THIS IN A P3DO SENSE, I MEAN IT IN A WHOLESOME WAY. PLS DONT ATTACK ME. fair warning: this is HEAVILY unedited...

you first meet each other when your mom invites his family over for lunch due to her and his mom working together. (yes this is gonna be a moms friends son trope bc thats whats happening to me 😈).

you walk down to greet the family- completely expecting to see the ugliest boy youve seen in your life. only to find out hes a ua student, built, and ofc... super fucking hot...

bakugou just stares at you blankly as you walk up and say hello to his parents and him.

recognizing his mom, you give her a hug with a big smile as she does the same.

"y/n! meet my son katsuki! hes a year older than you, but you two should get along just fine!" introduces mitsuki happily.

all you manage is a nod in response as you meet his gaze again. "um... nice to meet you bakugou.." you say smiling slightly. "just call me katsuki..." he responds gruffly as he stuffs his hands further into his pockets.

"y/n.. why dont you take katsuki upstairs and let him play on my ps5?" says your dad jokingly as he nudges your shoulder. you roll your eyes with a grin before motioning him to follow you back upstairs.

as you turn on the ps5 you hand him the controller, "we only have cod right now..." you say apologetically. "so, i heard you go to ua right...?" you ask questioningly as you sit on the other side of the couch facing him.

"yeah im in the hero program" he responds focusing on the game playing in front of him. you nod you head thoughtfully at his response "what year are you in katsuki..?"

"im in my final year, what about you...?" he says finally glancing back at you with his carmine eyes. "uh... im in 3rd year" you say fumbling over your words slightly.

"damn your young.." he chuckles as he shakes his head slightly, "hey at least im not about to go to college.." you retort with a small smirk.

bakugou cant help but grin at your response, "you calling me old shorty?" he asks with a slight smirk.

you internally melt at the sight but remain composed, "hey, im just being realistic here.." you respond as you raise your hands up.

"realistic my ass.." he mutters quickly turning back to the game, "what ass are you talking about katsuki?" you ask with a laugh.

suddenly, you hear the sound of laughter and turn to see his head thrown back as he struggles to keep himself composed, "you- you should not being saying stuff like that shorty..." he says in between chuckles.

throughout the rest of the time you and bakugou start talking more and more, almost as if you two were old friends reconnecting. heck, even his parents were surprised to see him actually talking to you like a normal person.

just before they leave you stand by the door quickly responding to a friends message. "shorty.." he calls, making you look up to see him handing you his phone. "lets stay in touch so i can keep an eye on ur bratty ass.." bakugou gruffs blushing slightly.

you widen your eyes but quickly agree as you type in your number. "ill text you soon shortcakes.." he grins before ruffling your hair and walking out right beside his parents.

All you can do is stand there rooted in your spot with flushed cheeks, grinning like a delusional idiot

#bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #kacchan #kacchan bakugou #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou #mha #katsuki headcanons #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha headcanons #mha bakugou #katsuki x reader #bakugo katuski #katsuki #t3ag3rs

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sebscore · 1 year

Note

gen-z driver chaotically taking over martin’s grid walk? thank you!!

KEEPING UP WITH THE GRID

pairings: f1 team principals, drivers and ex-driver x driver!reader (im too lazy to name everyone im sorry)

warnings: swearing. christian horner. mention of a nipple tweak.

author's note: anon, you are a legend for requesting this! I'm not too proud of the writing, since I wrote this in the middle of the night and my brain doesn't function normally then. but i hope you like it anyway, darling! let me know your thoughts!!

masterlist

• • • • • • •

Y/N was mindlessly scrolling through her phone when a sudden loud voice interrupted her peaceful time. ''How are we feeling about today, Y/N?'' Martin bent his knees, so he could hold the mic up to her face as she sat on the ground.

''Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me.'' She cursed, quickly covering her mouth as she knows she isn't supposed to swear on Sky Sports. ''Uh, I'm feeling pretty good about it, I'm starting on the second row, so not too bad.'' The driver answered his question, smiling sheepishly.

''You like having alone time before a race?'' He continued, a grin on his face.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. ''I just happen to be alone right now, sometimes I'm chatting with my team or with some of the other drivers.''

''Martin, you look a bit tired, you want to sit down?'' She patted the space next to her, feeling bad that he was crouching down while she comfortably sat on the grass.

The former F1 driver held a look of surprise on his face. ''In all my years I've been doing this, no one has ever offered me to sit down.'' He gave the camera a glance before slowly letting himself sink to the ground.

''You know, people always wonder 'Where is Martin?' But no one ever wonders 'How is Martin?' We need to take better care of you.'' The man seemed clueless about what she was saying, but he was amused either way.

''I'm alright, all that walking takes a lot of energy.'' He responded, pretending to wipe sweat off his forehead.

Y/N chuckled. ''Yeah, I mean, you've been doing this longer than I've been alive, so I understand that you're tired from all the walking.'' She never let the oppurtunity slip to make him aware of their age gap.

''Well, let's not talk age,'' he sighed, making her laugh, ''anyway, I think I might just hang around here for the entire segment.'' Martin concluded.

An idea popped into her head as she heard his words. ''Can I do it? I've always wanted to do it.''

Martin was surprised for a second time since joining the young woman. ''You mean I let you go around the grid and talk to people?''

She nodded. ''Yes, I love bothering people with my presence.'' Y/N said, matter-of-factly.

The Brit looked at his cameraman, who adamantly nodded his head to the idea of letting the driver do her thing around the grid.

Martin let out a deep breath, but handed his mic and headset over. ''Just don't get me fired,'' he said, trying to sound stern, ''and don't curse!'' He quickly added.

''I won't, I promise! I'll see you later!'' She got up from the ground and put the headset on, slightly altering it so it fit her head perfectly. ''Alright, let's make some controversy.'' Y/N exclaimed, pulling the cameraman along.

She glanced around the grid, trying to find some interesting people to talk to. ''So, I just need to find a person and ask them questions about whatever I want?'' The athlete asked the cameraman, who simply nodded his head, making the camera shake as well.

''Oh, I love this program!'' She giggled into the microphone, doing a small jump out of happiness.

Y/N observed the grid, knowing her first ''guest'' needed to be a good one. ''Okay, I've found someone!'' She let the cameraman know, pointing in the direction she wanted to go.

''Alright,'' she tapped the person's shoulder, having them turn to the camera in confusion, ''the first guest on Y/N's grid walk is the team principal of Mercedes… Petronas… Benz…,'' she tried remembering the full team name, ''Whatever, his name is Susie's husband! Welcome, Susie's husband.'' She introduced Toto.

The Austrian man was incredibly entertained by the young woman's antics. ''Hello, Y/N.''

''I have to ask you- how does it feel to be married to the greatest woman alive?'' She asked him, glancing around to find the woman in question.

Toto laughed at the question, but proceeded. ''It's great, Susie is an amazing person who has done countless amazing projects and campaigns- I'm a very lucky man.'' The sincere smile on Toto's face when talking about his wife brought a smile to Y/N's face.

''That's so cute- where is she? I only came over here, because I thought she would be here.''

''Unfortunately, she's not here today,'' he told her in a sad tone, ''I know that upsets you, Y/N.'' The driver's girl crush on Susie had been an obvious thing for many years, amusing everyone involved.

Y/N pouted at his words. ''Well, yeah… that upsets me a lot actuall-''

''What is going on here?'' A British accent interrupted her interview with the team principal.

''Go away, Russell George! I don't want you on my show.'' Y/N teasingly dismissed George, slapping his arm to get him out of frame.

The Mercedes driver feigned offense, placing his hand on his heart. ''Why not? I thought we were great friends, Y/L.''

''Crikey, crikey, crikey! Don't you have shirtless pictures to post somewhere? Bye bye!'' She quickly got away from the Mercedes team, practically running at one point.

Y/N let out a big sigh into the mic. ''Martin was right, this is tiring,'' she momentarily stopped in her steps, her hand on her waist, ''OH! Look! It's Charles Lechair!'' Her tiredness from a few seconds before was long forgotten as she strided over to her Monégasque friend.

''Charles, hello, Charles!'' She put her hand on his back, guiding him to the camera. ''How are you feeling about the race today? What are the strategies? Do they know that word at Ferrari?'' She teased the red team.

''Uh, we're feeling optimistic today and yeah, I'm ready to give it my all.'' He smiled, putting up his tv-friendly facade, not wanting to trash talk his team on television.

Y/N raised her eyebrow. ''You're so cute being all positive! Keep that attitude, Perceval!'' She patted his shoulder. ''Thanks for talking to me and good luck!'' She bid him goodbye.

The young driver walked in all sorts of directions. There were many people present on the grid, yet Y/N had quite a hard time finding people to talk to. It was when she walked by the Red Bull team that she found her next victim.

''Christian! Christian Horner, hello, welcome!'' She and the team principal didn't have the best history, but she knew the viewers would enjoy the interaction as they knew said history.

''Everyone, I'm joined here today by Red Bull, uh, Orange, Racing or whatever, F1 Team's team principal, Christian Horner.'' She butchered the team name again, although it was one purpose this time.

She turned towards the man. ''Christian, I won't hold you up too long, but there is one question that our viewers have been dying to ask you and I think this is the right time to finally do it.'' Y/N build the question up.

''Yes?'' He seemed a bit nervous, attentively listening to her words.

''Can you say one nice thing about Y/N Y/L?''

The Brit visibly looked relieved at the question, thinking it would be something controversial. ''Of course, she's, uh, a very talented race car driver.'' He nervously smiled at her.

''You heard it here first, ladies and gentlemen, Christian Horner thinks Y/N Y/L is the most talented driver in the history of Formula One!'' She overdramatized his response.

''You know what they say, keep your friends close, but keep your enemies even closer.'' She patted Christian's shoulder. ''Thanks for the talk, good luck and I hope you don't win.'' Y/N told him before walking off, hearing him laugh behind her.

''So far, I've talked to Toto Wolff and Christian Horner,'' she said to the camera, ''enemies to, uh, even worser enemies, I guess.''

''Guys, we're here with Yuki's boyfriend, Pierre Gasly.'' Y/N stood next to the Alpha Tauri driver, shoving the microphone in his face. He took his airpods out of his ears, already chuckling at the girl's actions.

''How are you doing?''

''I'm-''

''That's all the time we have for you, I'm sorry.'' She didn't let him finish his words and walked away from him, quickly giving him a smile so he knew she was entirely joking.

She stepped further onto the grid, continuing to look for people. ''A bunch of green outfits, not very fashionable- oh, it's Aston Martin! Let's find Sebastian!'' Y/N mixed herself with the Aston Martin team, trying to catch the German driver.

''Seb! Seb! Can I ask you a few questions?'' She eventually reached the man, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek.

His signature bright smile covered his face. ''Yeah, but where's Martin?''

''Me and Martin made an agreement, I get to do the grid walk and he gets to drive my car later- although, he never won any races, so that might not have been a great decision on my part.'' She told Sebastian, who seemed confused and fascinated at the same time.

''Well, I think you're doing a great job as reporter.'' He deflected her words, not wanting to get in trouble by saying anything about Brundle's lack of GP wins.

She smiled. ''Thanks, anyway… I know qualifying didn't go too well for you, but are you optimistic about the race?''

''Yeah, quali wasn't what we were hoping for,'' he sighed, ''It's gonna be difficult today, but we're gonna try our best to get as much points as we can for the championship.'' Sebastian finished his answer with an encouraging nod.

''That's great to hear! You've been- oh my god, is that your dad?'' Y/N had glanced away from Sebastian's face for one second and saw Norbert watching them, waving at her once he noticed her looking at him. ''Okay, bye Sebastian! I'm gonna talk to your dad now.''

She walked past the Aston Martin driver to approach his father. ''Can I ask you some questions? I swear it's very short.'' She didn't want to burden him for too long.

Norbert gave her a thumbs up, not minding being interviewed for a short time by her. ''It's okay.''

''Amazing! I mean, you're a legend of the paddock, Norbert! The drivers love you, the fans love you, everyone just loves you! Do you feel the love every time you attend a GP?''

Y/N had a good relationship with him as he and Sebastian would sometimes attend her karting tournaments together. Norbert had given her parents advice on how to support the young girl as best as possible. In a nutshell, the Vettel family were some of the greatest people she had ever met.

''I do feel it, it's a great feeling and everyone is so nice to me.'' He wasn't very confident in his English, so he kept it short.

Y/N smiled at him, delighted she got the chance to talk to him. ''You're always super sweet to everyone, so it's only right that we reciprocate your kindness,'' she nodded, ''okay, last question! Apart from Seb, who is the driver you're rooting for today? Is it someone you know very well? Or someone who is standing next to you and is asking you amazing questions?'' She played with a strand of her hair, pretending like she wasn't talking about herself.

He laughed at her words. ''I'm supporting you, of course!'' He exclaimed, his arm going around her shoulder.

''Oh! You're the best, Norbert! You're my favorite Vettel for a reason!'' Y/N said extra loud, knowing Sebastian would hear it that way.

''I'll leave you alone now, thank you so much and I'll see you after the race.'' She gave him a brief hug and he wished her good luck, which she thanked him for.

The cameraman had difficulties keeping up with her, used to the slower pace of Martin. Y/N noticed this and slowed down, sending him an apologetic look. ''Alright, I've talked to Seb, so I feel obligated to talk to Lewis now.'' She commented, trying to look for the 7x World Champion.

''Where is he? He shouldn't be this hard to find…'' The athlete always saw the Mercedes driver hanging around the grid, chatting with his celebrity friends or getting ready with Angela.

Y/N frowned. ''I should lore him or something…,'' she thought for a moment, ''vegan food, I have vegan food! Uh, free skydiving session! Oh my god, is that Roscoe on the track?'' She tried making him appear, but the only thing she got was weird looks from bypassers.

However, a certain blond man caught her attention instead. ''Okay, I can't find Lewis, but this person knows him very well… or used to at least.''

''Britney Spears! Can I interview you for the highly respected tv-show, Y/N's grid walk?'' She snuck up to the former Mercedes driver, catching him off guard, but he played it off. ''Sure, I'm very honored.'' His monotone voice almost made her cringe.

''First question: is it alright if I call you Britney? I don't know how you feel about the nickname.''

Nico chuckled at her. ''You can call me that, Y/N.''

''Ooooh~ I'm getting special privileges! I like it!'' She was impressed by Nico's answer, not being sure if he would go along with her humor.

''Next question! How does it feel to be a Monaco based Youtuber? Do you enjoy the influencer life?''

The former World Champion snickered at her question, not expecting her to bring up his Youtube channel. ''It feels great, I'm, uh, yeah, enjoying the influencer life.'' She could tell Nico was doing his best to come off as positive as possible.

''Nice, good for you, dude! Anyway, this was Britney, the man who beat the 7x World Champion, Lewis Hamilton, in equal machinery in 2016!'' She quoted the meme that was often made online when people talked about Rosberg.

Y/N didn't wait for Nico's reaction, a bit too scared if she was honest, and made a run for it again. ''I've talked to three German guys- wait, is Nico German? He said once that he doesn't drink beer, so I don't know if he's considered German.'' She rambled on, not even listening to the words that were leaving her own mouth.

''There's Jenson.'' She caught the Brit talking to his Sky Sports colleagues. ''You know what? I've embarrassed myself enough already, I'm not making it any worse.'' Y/N went in another direction so as to not cross paths with him.

''Too bad he doesn't drive anymore, I would have loved to give him a lucky nipple tweak.'' Martin and Jenson used to have this running gag of the older man giving him a nipple tweak for good luck before a race.

Y/N didn't see where she was going and almost tripped over someone's foot. ''Oh, shit!'' She loudly exclaimed, balancing herself so she wouldn't fall. ''Oh, fuck I can't swear- wait, shit! Ugh!'' She pulled the microphone away from her face, that way her curses wouldn't be picked up.

''This isn't live, right? Cause then I'm in trouble, I think.'' She glanced at the cameraman, who mumbled a small ''It is live.''

''THIS IS LIVE?'' Y/N gasped, looking absolutely horrified at the thought of thousands of people watching her at that moment. ''Let's find Martin then, I think I've done enough damage.''

She headed back to the place where the presenter had approached her. ''Martin! Where is Martin?'' The driver glimpsed around, but no Martin in sight. ''I have oatmeal!'' She yelled, before making eye contact with the camera. ''Old people love oatmeal, right?'' He simply chuckled, not wanting to shake the camera too much with his laughing.

''Oh, there he is!'' Y/N spotted the man and made her way over to him as fast as she could. ''I definitely didn't say anything controversial or cursed throughout the entire thing.'' She greeted him.

Martin looked relieved as she handed his microphone and headset back over to him. ''I was out of my element for a while,'' he joked, ''did you have fun, darling?''

Y/N nodded her head. ''Yes, I'm even considering changing career paths.'' She chuckled.

''That's great,'' Martin smiled, confident she made some amazing television, ''well, I think you're gonna have to go, cause I can see your, uh, coach not looking too happy.'' He pointed towards her performance coach staring daggers at her.

''Oh, fuck, yeah, bye Martin! Thank you so much!'' Y/N quickly thanked the man for letting her take over his segment and she dashed out of there, hoping her team wouldn't be too upset about her disappearing into the grid to ask everyone ridiculous questions.

''She's a special one for sure.''

taglist :: @i0veless @missskid @missthem @rosesintj @evans-dejong @thehistoryone @dreamycloudsworld @formulazeesworld @muushmeg @topguncultleader @the-great-adventures-of-me @love13tter @xcharlottemikaelsonx @kiwisa @starkwlkr @nora_moon @princesselle2111 @valluvsu @thatsadsmallchild @babyyoda89 @milkbreadforlife @fxllfaiiry @hc-dutch @its-ash-not-grey @princessbetsy123-blog @mehrmonga @nyenye @screechingtrashkid @ahnneyong @holybatflapexpert @itsnotgray

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#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 x oc #sebastian vettel x reader #charles leclerc x reader #toto wolff x reader #pierre gasly x reader #formula 1 oc #female f1 driver #f1 x y/n #f1 imagines

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livinahey · 7 months

Text

Random astro obs bcs y not

Warning ⚠️ mentions of abuse and trauma

scorpio luminaries & luminaries aspect to pluto (especially harsh aspect) almost be always know when something/someone is gonna do no good to you. If they warn you ab something then just follow them. Bcs what they say is scarily often end up being true

Also, if from the first meet these natives STRONGLY dislike you even though you didnt do anything then yeah.... Youre the problem lol. No matter if youre everyone crush, everyone sweetheart, or whatever is that. Again, like I said before, they seems to always know when something/someone is not good

These natives can also scared of themselves bcs of this

I think we admire ppl who have our mars sign as their sun sign

Sag sun with water moon women makes the loyal partner 🥺🤧 be it business partner, in friendship, or as a lover. Don't leave them.

When you see mars square pluto native gets bad mood or even angry.... RUN

Bcs they can be so violent at that time and you dont want to see that

Same goes to cap moon 💀

Women with moon square bml (black moon lilith) always have the best glow ups ✨✨🤧 im so proud (and bit jealous lol) of you dear

Mercury in leo degrees (5, 17, 29) being sooooo charming. They be say "hi" only and you already weak(???) lol

Leo venus 🤝 cant go a day without boasting what they love, be it their hobbies, their job, their loved ones, their pet, or even the place where they live lol. So passionate

I'm not surprised if theyre the one that have many posts on their social media account

Ppl with big 6 at 6 degrees (virgo degree) can be seen as villain

Moon conjunct jupiter synastry: when the moon person getting humiliated/disrespect, the jupiter person be defending the moon person. Also, the moon person can have soft spot for the jupiter person

Natal aspects to sun i like are sun conjunct mars and sun-pluto any major aspects. The word "sexy" is literally made for them lol.

TW ABUSE

women with cap or cancer mars plsssss check again the man you choose to date or even marry. Bcs i often see these women end up experience being abused severely by their man in their relationship. Men often being intimidated by these women yet still wanna date them. These women do dating man that seems cool and amazing or even adorable person outside BUT UNFORTUNATELY it turns out that the man are the worst person ever. At worst case, the man's family dislike these women due to jealousy towards them. No matter how bad these women get treated by the man, the man's family will still defend the man and treated these women as if theyre the problem 💔

Also, these women can dealing with fucking crazy men that cannot accept being rejected by them atleast once in their life. Scary af

Gemini moon/mars are naturally funny without even trying ✋😭

Sag/pisces rising 🤝 always have ppl crushing over them and even become worshipping them

Libra rising are so beautiful and it seems unbelievable

Cancer rising and their terrible mood swing 🤕 yet still look like the most calm and unbothered person ever

Mercury-bml aspects culture is having what they say being questioned. And if they have sun-uranus aspects too then.... Good luck trying to understand them 🥴

Mercury-bml aspects is underrated funny placements imo. They be say questionable thing but idk i find it funny tho 😩

Scorpio rising and having traumatic experience/memories when they young that seems keep haunting them even until they become old :(

Also they often get disappointed by their family :( they can give all their family members a mountain of gold, being so kind to them to the point they forgetting their own needs and this scorpio rising still getting unappreciated & bad treatment. PLS APPRECIATE SCORPIO RISING IN UR LIFE !!❤‍🩹🫂 they are one of sincere people that often attracts evil eye that doesnt wanna see them being success

Whats with earth rising and having this disgusted/judging look 🥲

They can look at you normally and you will feel that theyre judging you even if they arent

Sag rising and leo rising 🤝 having beef with eachother

Same goes to taurus sun x gemini sun

Cap sun x virgo sun friendship be the weird yet funny pair

Every leo placement always have virgo placement in their life

They can have love-hate relationship with eachother tho lol.

And the same goes to every cap placement that always have aries placement in their life

You either love the opposite sex that has the same mars sign as you OR going "mehh" of them

Earth rising 🤝 secured financially. Maybe you never catched them worry ab not having money to save their life

Hey thank you for reading this so far!! I do these obs not bcs I wanna gain followers or what but bcs I found these things give me joy hehe ✌🏻 english isnt my first language so apologize for any grammar mistakes. be safe out there!! 🫂✨

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wonfilms · 2 months

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enhypen & the ways they say "i love you" (without actually saying it) ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

warnings : n/a : gen: fluff a/n: im back?!? after almost 6 mths .. but yes i'm back, (finally..) school has been HELL, BUT yrhome is back in action, i hope this is alright even though i feel a little rusty hehe, reblogs & comments are very much appreciated

heeseung -> "this song reminded me of you." - heeseung's love is constant, never once wavering. he sees you in every little part of his life.. he thinks about you constantly never once do you leave his mind he discovers a melody that seems to capture you within mere musical notes... so he shares it with you.. each song that make his heart swell just like you do.

jay -> "you wanted this right? i saw you looking at it at the store last weekend?" - jay's love is bold yet gentle, almost like a first love and a last kiss paired in one. jay remembers everything about you, your favourite colour, which perfume you use, what shoe size you are, what makes you tick and what comforts you after a long day? so it's no surprise that when he caught you eyeing that lipstick at the store he just had to buy it for you, whatever makes you happy is all he wants.

jake -> "give me one more kiss, please babe just one more..??" - jake's love is exhilerating and yet comfortable all at once, like the fond nostalgia of a childhood fair-ground ride. he should be out of bed right now, rushing to get ready for work but he can't help himself.. not when you look that damn beautiful laid in his arms , he kisses you softly letting the feeling linger. just one more kiss, he pleads.. but you both know that's never the case

sunghoon -> "have you eaten yet baby?" - sunghoon's love is soft, sweet and it feels warm like a bowl of soup. he never fails to ask you whether you'd eaten yet, always. he takes comfort in knowing you're still safe and healthy. he shows his love through words, whispered confessions against your neck and gentle squeezes of your hip as he kisses you to sleep at night.

sunoo -> "i wish i could see you all the damn time" - sunoo's love tastes like oranges and frozen grapes. he didn't think he'd ever want someone's company like he wants yours.. he needs you he wants you by his side even more with every passing minute. it feels almost natural to see your smile and your pretty eyes every minute of the day, it's like a second nature to him to admire you. jungwon -> "i wanna grow old with you one day" - jungwon's love is like rainy days spent cuddling next to the fire. he's never been one to shy away from the words 'i love you', but that's probably just because it's you. hell, love is terrifying but he knows you're the one for him. his other half the last little missing puzzle piece in his life, you're perfect for him. niki -> "you make me wanna try." - niki's love is like a gentle studio ghibli movie. it's not perfect but yet it still it. his love is encouragement, soft words of affection exchanged in private and heart-wrenching embraces that make you feel like melting. you're both young, and maybe thats completely okay, love is also helping the person you love most grow and change and still staying by each other's side.

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spaceycowboys · 2 years

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starry eyes sparking up my darkest night

pairing: aemond targaryen x female!tyrell!reader

summary: aemond has only wanted two things in his life. a dragon and to marry the pretty tyrell girl, now he has both.

warnings: smut, literally almost all smut very little plot, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), creampie, breeding kink, light innocence kink, light size kink, use of pet names, blood is mentioned two (2) times, aemond has a huge cock i don’t make the rules, and breeder balls, eye patch gets taken OFF when aemond fucks his lady wife, implied jealousy, implied voyeurism (? just incase?), out of character aemond (?), i think thats all?

notes: i am a whore for a villain. aemond is so hot i love him. this is a side blog, i just didnt want to post on my main blog, im fairly rusty at writing smut, so any and all feedback will be greatly appreciated!! please interact if you see this because i think tumblr hates me:((!! title credits: call it what you want by taylor swift

word count: 5.3k

The wedding had been lovely, truly, but you think everyone could tell your heart wasn’t really in it. Few smiles reached your eyes, and you couldn’t lie that a part of you had felt slightly devasted you were being married in the Dragon Pit in the sight of the Seven, and not the Godswood in Winterfell that you’d come to love during your time in Cregan Stark’s presence many years ago.

You’d thought it was a grand wedding, perhaps too grand for the marriage of a second son, but Aemond is a Prince, so what did you know, besides that and the feeling that the Hand and Queen were trying to sway your father’s loyalty to them when King Viserys joins his late wife, perhaps even go as far as to hope for the favor of your lady mother’s family.

An extravagant weeklong event. Tourneys and hunts and beautiful dinners with lots of dancing. Many lords and ladies had come, many of your friends from childhood present and even your eldest brother. It made the evening feel less lonely for you to be in the presence of people you know so well.

You had been surprised, however, to see the Princess Rhaenyra present with her husband (uncle?) and their children. You heard often of the animosity between the two families, and you were sure she wouldn’t have come. You’d been even more surprised when she had approached you at, a smile on her pretty face.

“Lady Tyrell, you make a most beautiful bride,” She smiles fondly at you.

Aemond tensed next to you, so did the Queen when her next words left her mouth before you could even let out a proper thank you for her compliment, “Though, I must say I am disappointed that your father had not chosen my own son to be your husband. We were heavily in discussion regarding it.”

Your eyebrows furrow as your head turned over in the direction of your father who was seated to your left, “I must say, Princess, I did not know I had many suitors.”

“Why would she want to marry your Strong son, dear sister, when she had better offers?” Aemond spit the words out hatefully at the same time you try to answer her, glaring over her shoulder at the son in question. Jacaerys.

You’d met him on a few occasions, and he was a kind boy. A little closer to your age than your now husband. You didn’t think you knew him well enough to warrant any sort of affections from him, but you suppose that doesn’t matter, since you’d only met Aemond once as children before your father received the letter of the marriage offer from the Hand of the King.

“Aemond,” Alicent had hissed through gritted teeth, “this is a joyous occasion, one you had wanted so desperately. So, please, do not.”

Your now husband huffed out a bitter laugh before grabbing his cup and drowning the rest of his drink. You furrow your eyebrows at her words and look to Aemond slightly confused. He wanted to desperately marry you?

Rhaenyra ignored his comment and stayed looking at you, eyebrows having a slight furrow at your words, “You are a beautiful young woman and you come from one of the great houses, I can promise you that your father was drowning in marriage offers. But I do hope you will be happy here, with my dear brother.”

She walks away before you could say anything, tensing to stop a flinch when Aemond slammed his cup down harshly.

“That fucking cunt. How dare she come over here and say all those things. As if we did not just get married. As if your husband is not sitting right fucking next to you.” He was seething, and it honestly shocked you. You have barely even spoken to him; you really didn’t think he even liked you much.

“Aemond, you will watch your mouth in front of your wife,” Alicent spoke out, slightly baffled that he would say such things in front of you, in front of your family.

Your father is tense next to you, and you place your hand on his own and squeeze. This can’t be that bad. You can endure it.

As you look at Aemond, you can’t help but wonder if he will even be so bad. As if he can hear your thoughts, his hand moves to rest tenderly on your own.

The rest of the evening blurs together until Aegon stumbled his way over to where you were seated, “I believe we should be approaching the bedding ceremony soon, dear brother?”

And though his words had been directed at your husband, you felt his lust and drunk eyes on you. The mention of the bedding ceremony had you tense, and Aegon’s eyes don’t do anything to soothe your nerves.

“There will be no bedding ceremony.” Aemond spoke without a waver in his voice. What?

Aegon’s head snapped towards his brother, “And why the fuck not? It’s tradition.”

Aemond hummed, unamused, “I will not make a spectacle of my lady wife.” His words make your heart soften slightly

“She will not be your lady wife for long if there is no proof.” Aegon tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.

“There will be blood on my sheets come morning and a babe in her belly,” Aemond spoke as he stood up, towering over his older brother before he moved his face close enough to where no one, except you- much to your embarrassment, “though I do suppose if you are that concerned, you may stand outside my quarters and listen for the confirmation that my marriage has been consummated.”

Aemond takes your hand and pulls you from the room after that, moving quickly as if attempting not to be noticed.

“Why are we not doing the bedding ceremony? Is it not tradition? Will we not get in trouble?” Your voice is slightly panicked at the idea of getting in trouble for not doing what you are supposed to do, causing him to stop outside the door of his chambers and look at you.

“I would not feel like a very good husband if there were a bunch of old men with greedy eyes seeing your bare body before I got to see it,” He looks serious, and he sounds it as well. Though his voice lowers slightly into a possessive tone when the next words come out, “I also would not like anyone to see it after I do.”

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Large hands take the many pins out of your hair before gently starting to unknot and remove the many intricate braids the servant girls spent hours doing not long ago. It feels like a waste, makes you feel as if you are a spectacle for viewing and gawking at only.

Which you suppose you are- if you were being honest with yourself. You’d been lucky to inherit not only your mother’s beauty, but as well as the charm that all the women from your lord fathers house seem to have.

You wonder why he insisted that the handmaiden leave, from what your mother told you it was typical of them to prepare you for the upcoming moments.

Your hair is abandoned for the strings at the back of your dress once Aemond has removed all the braids. The air is cold on your back and your hands are shaking when his own move to touch your bare skin in a way that no one else has. One hand is on the nape rubbing in an almost affectionate way as the other moves to pull the extravagant gown from your body.

You didn’t think you could get anymore tense than you already were, until your wedding dress dropped from your body unceremoniously onto the cold ground.

Goosebumps cover your body as you’re fully exposed to the cold air, despite the fire going in the fireplace. His hands move to map your body, starting at your shoulders and slowly moving down to your hips.

His lips on your neck causes you to gasp in surprise, your belly warming at the feeling of not only his lips on you but his hands on your hips, squeezing softly at the skin and biting back a grown when the reach your ass.

His mouth moves from your neck to your shoulders, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses on your skin as he makes his way down your back. You close your eyes at the unfamiliar feeling stirring inside you, a surprised gasp escaping you when a dull bite lands on your hip.

You feel his smile against your skin as he does the same to your other hip before he stands up to make his way around your body.

He stands in front of you, fully clothed still despite having taken off all of your clothing, leaving you bare for him to feast upon with his eye.

Aemond’s hands are calloused and rough, you assume from years of sword training and dragon riding, as they caress your face. His bright eye locked on yours, watching for any reactions. Thumbs trace under your eyes, over your nose, and your lips.

“Have you ever been touched this way?” His voice is quiet as his hands move down your neck towards your collarbones.

“No, my Prince,” Your voice pitches up at the end when his mouth finds your neck again, his teeth piercing your skin again.

“Not even your own hands?” His tone is serious but the smirk you feel against your skin lets you know he’s teasing.

You feel your face heat up at his implication. “No. Never.”

Aemond lets out a pleased hum at your words, soft voice stirring something primal in him.

His mouth is on yours before you can think of something else to say. His lips are a little dry, something you didn’t notice when he kissed you earlier at the wedding. One hand grips your hip as the other tangles into your hair, tugging lightly causing you to gasp. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

It’s an unfamiliar feeling, all of it is, though. You’re overwhelmed and throbbing at your core.

Can he hear your heartbeat as well as you can? It’s pounding in your ears along with a rush of heat that takes over your whole body.

His tongue coaxes yours to move against it, and you wonder if this is how it’s supposed to feel. If you’re supposed to feel this good. Are you even allowed to feel this good? Your handmaiden had told you on many occasions that men only cared for their own pleasure, and you would be feeling a lot of pain. This didn’t feel like anything she described.

Aemond pulls his mouth from yours and looks at you with a hooded eye, pupil so blown you can’t see the blue of it. There’s a light flush on his cheeks as he looks at your swollen lips.

“You are quite beautiful, my lady.” It’s said so quietly, you wonder if it was supposed to be a secret. You’d like to know all his secrets, you think.

When you don’t respond, his mouth attaches itself to your neck. A sharp pain if him biting is followed by a light sucking as if to soothe it.

You aren’t sure where to put your hands, they’ve stayed at your side due to your shyness and uncertainty.

“Have you been with many women?” The question leaves your mouth before your mind even processes that you’ve asked it.

His mouth stops moving against your skin as your blood runs cold, shaking, and wide eyed when he pulls away to look at you.

Sharpe eye studies your features, like a lion about to eat a lamb. Or, perhaps, a dragon ready to burn a rose.

He steps back, taking your hand as he sighs and looks away from you in, shame?

“When I was thirteen, Aegon took me to a brothel. Told me it was time to get it wet,”

You grimace at his word choice, but when you see how he’s looking at you, you squeeze his hand.

“To put it lightly, my dear lady, it was not a very nice experience. I have been with very few women since,”

Shame fills you at his words, and before he can continue you speak quickly, “I am so sorry, I did not mean to push you into speaking about an event you-“

His hands are back on your face, holding your cheeks, “You are my wife.” It’s a statement, and his words come out slightly harsh, “You are entitled to every piece of me. I will tell you everything you wish to know about me,”

His kiss is full of fire this time, claiming your lips with such an intensity. His body is pressed full against yours; you can feel his toned chest through his shirt. The fabric is soft against your chest, and as if they have a mind of their own, your hands start grasping at them hem of it desperately.

“Aemond,” It’s the first time you’ve spoken his name that way, he likes the way it sounds. Desperate, needy. Maybe he just likes that it comes from you.

Aemond was nine the first time he saw you, still had both eyes back then. You’d been visiting the Keep with your father. The King wanted updates about something, Aemond didn’t know or care what it was. All he knew was that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

You had such grace and were so kind. Helaena didn’t have many friends at court due to her fascination with insects. But you held all the creepy crawlers she held out to you, spent the day reading to her so she didn’t have to pull herself away from the bugs.

You were younger than him, but he didn’t care. He liked the way your voice sounded as you read to Helaena, how you laughed when she would whisper out name ideas for her bugs and then look to you to see if the name suited the bug, how you smiled at him when you would catch him sitting just far enough to not be seen but to hear.

You left with your father, and then a year later he heard a servant that you’d been taken to Winterfell to see how you’d pair with Cregan Stark.

After he lost his eye, he told his mother it was a fair trade, and that he’d gotten Vhagar in return, so it didn’t matter. But after he heard Rhaenyra speak of you to Daemon, of her hopes to marry you to Jace, he back tracked.

When they returned to King’s Landing from Driftmark, he told his mother he felt like he deserved to choose his future bride- and that he would want you in return for his lost eye. Truly the rest was history; she brought the request to Viserys stating that it was the least he could be given after what was taken from him.

Viserys allowed it but stated that it would have to be on your father’s terms on when and how if he agreed. It was no surprise that he did agree, though. Lord Tyrell is a proud man and agreed after a few years of discussion and persuasion.

“My lady,” Your thighs involuntarily press together at the way he says it, like he owns you; and he does.

He smirks at the way your body reacts to him just speaking, “May I touch you?”

You moan and breathe out a whine, “If you’d like,”

He pulls away from you just enough to remove the shirt from his body, and then he grabs your hands and places them on his chest.

“I’d like it if you would touch me as well,” His request comes out confident, almost like a demand. Almost everything he says causes more and more heat to flood your body and your lower stomach.

Your shy hands trace over the whole expanse of his chest, rubbing, squeezing, light scratching. Your eyes stay on his face, drinking in every reaction. The way he opens his mouth and lets out a breathy gasp, how his eye closes, and head goes back when you scratch lightly over his pectoral muscles.

With a sudden surge of confidence, you slowly move closer and place a light kiss on his neck. A quiet groan leaves his mouth in response, and you take it as encouragement to continue. A hand moves to your head, lightly holding the back of your neck in place as you suck and bite as he did to you.

You don’t register that he’s been moving you backwards until your knees hit the bed, causing you to gasp and pull away.

Both his hands are back on your face as he slowly lowers you so you’re lying flat, you go to question him when he doesn’t join you, but to your confusion he moves to his knees between your legs.

“What are you-“ The question dies on your tongue when you feel his hands move up your thighs and close to your core.

This is definitely not normal. You’ve never heard of this being part of any bedding. In a panic your hands rush to his face as it gets closer to your core, “What are you doing?”

His eye finds yours and studies your face before smirking, “Just lay back and let me make you feel good, wife.”

Before you can respond you feel his tongue on you, no- in you.

“Oh, gods.”

It’s really unlike anything you’ve ever felt, it’s nearly overwhelming. All you can feel is him. His hands on your inner thighs holding you open for him, his fingers gripping so hard they’re surely leaving bruises, his tongue, gods his tongue.

A finger lightly traces at your entrance, teasingly. The finger makes its way inside you as he sucks on your clit.

“Aemond,” He pulls away at his name leaving your mouth, eye finding you with your head back and hands clutching the bedding at your sides so tightly your knuckles are turning white.

His free hand reaches for one of your own, intertwining your fingers, eye not leaving your face as he adds another inside you, scissoring the two of them lightly while his thumb rubs circles on your clit.

“Do you feel good?” His tone is slightly cocky, but when your eyes look at his face, you see he looks slightly shy.

Before you can respond, his fingers curl inside you and you’re eyes are squeezing shut as a sharp whine leaves your mouth. He hums thoughtfully at your reaction before doing the same thing again, again, again until.

“Oh, please, please, please,” Your nails are digging into his skin, so hard it may be drawing blood, and your thighs begin shaking by his head when his mouth finds your clit again. His fingers don’t falter inside you until your voice pitches up due to the overstimulation.

You finally open your eyes and watch as he sticks the two fingers that had just been inside you into his mouth before looking at you with a smirk as he leans his head back down to lick from the bottom of your cunt back up to your clit.

Wheezing, your thighs move to close themselves as both your hands reach for his head to push him away from you.

Aemond lets out a laugh as he pulls away from your cunt and crawls up your body. Big arms cage you in as he looks at you with something akin to adoration.

“You taste so good,” He says it in such an attractive manner, you’ve never though any words like that would sound so good coming from someone’s mouth. “Would you like to try it?”

You flush at his words, embarrassment filling you before you nod shyly. His smirk deepens as he presses his mouth to yours.

You moan at the feeling of his mouth back on your own, gasping when his hands places itself on your breasts and tweaks with your nipples, and Aemond takes the opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth when you do.

The taste is slightly sweet, slightly bitter. Tangy, would be a better word, maybe like a Dornish wine or an orange. His cock is straining in his pants as he presses himself up against your cunt, the size takes you by surprise. It feels large, much bigger than his fingers and much too big to fit inside you, but between the feeling of his hands on your breasts, the heat coming off of his bare chest where your hands dig into his shoulders, and the taste of yourself on his mouth as his tongue maps out the inside of your mouth.

A surge of boldness fills you and you remove a hand from one of his shoulders and reach between the two of you, grabbing lightly and unsurely at his cock. The action causes him to pull away from you as a surprised moan leaves his mouth.

There’s a fire in his eye as he looks at you, watching you as you look up with him with uncertain yet shining eyes at everything you’re feeling for the very first time. At his hands no less.

A smirk crawls it’s way back on it’s face, “Do you want to make me feel good, little wife?”

“Yes,” Your answer causes him to let out a pleased hum, but to your confusion he pulls your hand away from his cock.

“Next time I’ll teach you how to please me the way I did you. I don’t want to overwhelm you this time,” His eye holds tenderness as he says the sweet words that light your body on fire.

“This is not how I expected tonight to go,” Your shy words cause a sympathetic smile to show on his features.

“Many husbands don’t care for their wife’s pleasure,” His hands are untying the laces on his pants as he moves up from the bed to strip himself of them. Pride fills him when your eyes widen at the site of his cock.

It’s long and thick, it sits hard and proud up against his stomach, almost hitting his naval. It’s as pale as the rest of him, slightly red at the tip. A bead of precum drips from the tip and down his shaft, your eyes follow it to his balls. There also big, no surprise. The hair so pale that if there is any, you can’t see it. They look heavy, almost uncomfortable.

“Does it hurt?” The question spills out of your mouth, and Aemond wants to laugh until he sees how serious you are.

“No, it’s just uncomfortable,” You’re wide eyes find his face again, another question that almost makes him laugh.

“Will it fit inside me?” You really don’t think it will, or if it does, it’ll be in your stomach. The though makes you nervous.

“We’ll go slow, if you’d like,” He crawls back on top of you, hands finding your thighs so he can fit his body in between them.

His cock is hot against the skin of your thigh, the tip lightly brushes your folds causing you to shiver. His hand grabs at the base of his cock, guiding the tip from your clit to your hole, then back up. Little gasps leave you every time it bumps against your clit or catches on your tight hole.

Aemond holds a lot of restraint, but he can only hold so much, “I’m going to put it in now,”

He looks to you for you to consent, but tenses when your hands shyly reach up at the leather straps of the patch covering his eye.

“Can you take this off?” Your eyes hold no fear, just slight uncertainty.

His face doesn’t change at all, “I’d rather not scare you-“

“I am bare before you, as your wife. You could be bare for me as my husband, as well.” You’re voice doesn’t shake at all, for the first time all evening, he notes.

With a sigh, he takes his hand from your thigh and closes his eye as he takes the patch off. He doesn’t want to see your inevitable reaction of fear or disgust before you turn over and have him take you from behind.

Aemond flinches when he feels your hand tracing his scar, from his forehead, over the sapphire in place of where his eye should be, down to where it ends.

He hears you take in a shaky breath before your mouth is diving up towards his, and for the first time all evening you’ve taken control of something. He enjoys it, the way your tongue forces its way into his mouth.

He kisses you back with the same amount of energy, sucking on your tongue and nipping at your lips until you pull away. His eye studies you, the lust filled look in your eyes and flush covering you with swollen, wet lips.

“You may take me now, Aemond,” The words are but a whisper, but he hears you clearly.

His cock is, now, painfully hard as he nods and tightens his grip so he can carefully guide himself inside you.

He hisses though his teeth at the feeling of your cunt, slick and warm and tight, enveloping his cock. You’re the tightest thing he’s ever felt.

An animalistic feeling nearly overcomes him. He feels a primal need to shove his cock all the way inside you, rip through your maidenhead and fuck you full of him. He want to see your blood on his cock as he thrust inside you, fill you full of him, fuck you so hard there’s no questioning if his seed took tonight.

The feeling is slightly different for you. The stretch is uncomfortable, and it stings slightly, it causes you to feel so full you may burst or overfill. He goes slow, like he promised, but you can feel his body shaking above you as he restrains himself from taking you like an animal.

When he reaches the barrier of your maidenhead, he halts, “I have to push a little harder, here,”

A flash of fear flashes through your eyes for a brief moment before you nod for him to continue.

With a shaky exhale, he pulls back slightly and then pushes forward sharply, a little too sharply. Because the next thing he knows you’ve got tears streaming down your face and his pelvis is flush with yours. It’s hot and so, so tight. It, you, feel so fucking good.

His mouth is hanging open slightly as he breathes heavily, trying to gain control over himself. When he looks down at you, he feels guilt coarse through him.

“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry,” You take not that while his voice doesn’t sound sorry, his eye shows that he is. Hands reach for your cheeks so he can wipe the tears that have been falling from your eyes away.

You remove an arm from around his shoulder and move your hand to grip at a wrist that is by your face, “It’s okay-“

His voice is strained, “Oh, fuck, it’s not. I told you we would go slow,”

His eye holds guilt, but you can’t help but notice how beautiful he looks above you. No eye patch covering his features, his hair, though still pulled back, slightly messy, sharp facial features gleaming in the moonlight and the light from the fire.

He thinks you look unreal. Hair, still slightly curled, sits around you beautifully, eyes are gleaming with stars in the despite the tears from the pain still lingering, lips bruised and swollen from his own mouth.

“You can move now,” He looks unsure at your words and goes to speak his protests, but you interrupt. “Take me, husband.”

He obliges to your demand, pulling his hips back before pushing them forward. He goes slow at first, in and out at a steady rhythm, relishing in the moans and gasps and whines that leave your mouth, the chants of his name Aemond, Aemond, Aemond.

He dips his head to kiss your cheeks, down your jaw and latches onto your neck, sucking bruises into your skin as he starts thrusting deeper, harder. His pelvis grinds against your clit, and between that sensation, the pace of his thrusts when his cock hits the same spot his fingers found earlier and up to your cervix, his mouth on your neck, it doesn’t take long for your cunt to start clenching on his cock harder.

A deep groan leaves him at the way your cunt grips his cock, sucking him in and trying to keep him there forever. He would gladly stay inside you forever.

He pulls away from your neck to look at you, wanting to look at your face as you cum around his cock, as you feel his cum inside you.

Your eyes are rolled back so far he can only see the whites of them, bruises litter your collarbones and neck, marks of him all over you. Your nipples are hard and brush against his chest as your back arches while you lose yourself in the pleasure.

His balls tighten up more the longer he looks at you, and he moves his thumb to your clit, pushing you over the edge after one, two, three circles over it.

“Aemond!” Your voice sounds heavenly when you moan his name. His hips don’t falter their pace nor does his thumb stop rubbing until your cunt has loosened its vice grip on his cock. He fucks you through your orgasm and through the aftershocks before he grabs one of your legs.

You’re still shaking from your orgasm when you feel him lift your leg up and over his arm and onto his shoulder before he’s leaning over you. Your eyes shoot open at the newer, deeper angle.

“I don’t think-“

Before the sentence can leave your mouth, his hips pick up a pace very unlike the one you had just grown accustomed to. Your eyes cross as your hands shot up to his shoulders, trying to push him away and stop the overstimulation.

His head is thrown back in deep pleasure, groans and low moans of your name leaving his mouth as he listens to the wet slap, slap, slap of his body meeting yours. His pace picks up and becomes less rhythmic as his orgasm hits him.

You cry out his name with tears running down your face as your cunt clenches down for a third time, squeezing him so tightly that all he can do is push all the way in and let his cum flood you. His hips lightly move back and forth, fucking himself and you through your orgasms as you feel his cum fill you so much it starts slipping out around his cock and down your ass.

He stays inside you as your shake in the aftermath, feeling sweaty and sticky as he presses his cheek against your own, breathing you in and just feeling you for a while before he finally pull back just enough to look at you. Bodies still pressed together, cunt still plugged with his cock to hold his cum in, to make sure it takes. To make sure his son is filling you.

His eye is holding yours in a stare, and a soft smile takes over his face as you smile up at him tiredly. He feels something warm ignite in his chest as you look at him, the glow of the orgasm, the smile on your face, a sparkle in your eyes that looks like stars.

Aemond presses his mouth to yours before you can say anything. He wonders to himself if he can light your world up the way you’re already doing his.

#aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #hotd x y/n #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x y/n #aemond imagine #aemond smut #house of the dragon smut #hotd smut #aemond x reader smut

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luvt0kki · 2 months

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INTERLUDE | OPENING SEQUENCE

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ s.w.m masterlist ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ taglist ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧

This scene that locked me up The sequence that's like forever Stay for me, stay for me, stay for me I can't get used to it, used to it, used to it

🎧: Opening Sequence - TXT

previous | INTERLUDE | next

pairings: ot8 x f!reader (san x reader)

w.c : 10k ( im sorry for any errors)

cw: mature, ,minors do not interact, nsfw, reader is afab, slow burn, polyamory, smut , bittersweet, angst, MC's background is inspired by Black Widow's background with the Red Room, reader is called sweet heart/baby, hints of abuse/manipulation, mc’s past, mention of their training days, injuries, scars, loss of virginity, first time, very very very longgggggg chapter I’m sorry

REMINDER: my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n : surprise? SPECIAL CHAPTER!!!! I hope you guys like this one. I didn’t initially plan to write this but after posting chapter 005 I wanted to write something different or something else and this came about. I hope you guys like. Thank you for being so patient with me 🥺💗

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE, OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF MY WORK HERE. I DO NOT NOR WILL ALLOW IT.

“How long do you think before they find us here?”

The young assassin paused, his heart dropping. Never has he ever heard you, YOU, out of all the graduated students of the Academy, sound like this.

You were always so sure of yourself but now, he was hearing a completely different person yet so familiar. When was the last time he heard you like this? He was quick to recall it and that ache in his chest began to feel as if he was burning from the inside. This small, unsure, and weak voice belonged to the little girl he grew up with before the academy changed everything and he never heard you like this again.

Til today.

He was scared to turn around.

If your own resolve was shaking then the situation was worse than he thought.

San shook his head and continued to look around the padded room looking for any signs of a possible escape. Even if you two did get out, you two would have nothing but your knives and your fists.

“No one’s going to come for us, aren’t they Sannie?” You choked out his nickname so softly, that he felt his heart broke. “At the end of the day…” you went on, the fears of a little girl that San had failed to protect breaking through the facade the Academy molded and chiseled you in. “I’m just one of their many weapons. The other girls in the Academy…they’re good. Better. I will be of no use soon.”

San’s hands were beginning to tremble uncontrollably as he reloaded the gun. You were the Academy’s proudest creation, you had set the standard. Though those things were true, these were your fears. They were just as real.

“We’ve sent a Morse code to them. They’ll find us soon. They won’t let you go as easily.” San swallowed the lump in his throat trying to maintain composure and not let the impending doom of you both get to him.

What made him sadder was that he was right. The Academy won’t let you go. You were chained to them in a way, he wasn’t.

“Sannie…”

They could afford to lose him. He was a part of the top three of those who graduated with him but he wasn’t the first of the batch.

“They’ll come for you.”

The room that confined you two was dim. The skylight let some moonlight shine through to illuminate what it could in the darkness you two were submerged in. Did your captors really believe the Academy would buy their ransom for two of their assassins? They would come with a brute force that would leave them nothing in ashes. If no one came for the two of you, they’ll kill you both or worse, sell the two of you off to the market.

San would kill them before they even thought of selling you as a slave.

“Sannie, it’s cold.”

His composure broke then.

Gone was the weapon the Academy created.

Without any hesitation, San went to where you had been sitting (on the white sheet mattress in the room they threw you two in) then pulled you onto his lap with his arms wrapped around you. Your skin was cold to the touch and his desperation to hold you only grew. He cradled you so gently in his arms, scared that if he embraced you tighter you’d shatter.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, resting his chin on the top of your head as he kept his gaze up, fighting back tears and the urge to press his lips on the the crown of your head. “I’m here. I'm not going anywhere.”

You were taught to never take anyone’s words seriously. Always doubt them, they once said. Doubt them until they prove it because you can never know what they mean and yet, you believed every word San said.

Every promise he has ever made, he kept them. Everything he said he would do, he did. But even if he didn’t prove to be a man of his word, the part of you that you pushed in the dark, would believe him blindly.

His strong arms held you in a way you never knew you needed to be held and the warmth of his body was giving you, melted away the armor you didn’t have the luxury to take off.

“Sannie,”

He loved it when you called him Sannie. Since you two met, he was your Sannie. If you asked him now, just once, to be yours, he’d be yours forever.

“Yeah?” He caressed your back in gentle circles, taking note of how your shivering lessened and your breathing calmed.

You didn’t continue your thought. It got stuck in your throat. How could you possibly say what you wanted to? Instead, you opted to bury your face into his neck. You’ll think about it for a bit…because what if it was the wrong time to say it?

“Can I hold your hand?”

Your voice was such a soft whisper, that San almost didn’t hear it. It was like you were embarrassed to have even asked, even though he’s held your hand so many times in secret during your training days when it was an evaluation day.

San hummed in response and carefully, still cradling you in his lap with your head leaning on his chest, slipped his hand with yours. He stared at your hands as he did. His hand was bigger than yours and his heart dropped when he realized you had taken off your gloves. Such delicate hands were bruised at the knuckles and hands that only ever touched or brushed him so gently.

He knew in your head you could only see how stained your arms were with blood.

“Your hands are cold,” he pointed out, pouting a little at the fact and like he did when you were younger, he took both your hands and brought them close to his mouth to breathe warmth into them.

You felt your heart thump particularly strong in your chest. The feelings you’ve had for San that you had hidden away because you were told you could never be loved nor love for you were only a weapon, returned.

Because you are a weapon, you would only ever hurt the people you love.

“How are you so warm?” You chuckled, falling into a comfort you denied yourself for so long. “If I remember correctly, you were such a small petite thing when we were younger. I was afraid you wouldn’t make it past the selection.”

He laughed softly at the memory. “I didn’t want to be left behind. I need to be with you no matter what.” He let himself speak freely and honestly, letting his hands warm yours.

“I would’ve purposely failed if that was the case. I wouldn’t want to continue on without you.” You admitted, feeling the ache of your muscles finally hit you.

“They would’ve known if you did.”

“That’s true.”

“I would catch up to you no matter what. To be by your side…” San paused, afraid to say what he wanted to in fear that you may not feel the same. “For a long time, I believe that’s where I belong.”

His words caught you off guard. Did Sannie know? Did he know that you loved him? There was no way he could but the possibility of attraction between the two of you could not be ruled out so easily. It was there. You both knew it. You two just never spoke of it.

“Do you still believe that?” You asked, feeling a little braver and desperate.

What if this was it? It had been four days since the enemy got the upper hand and immobilized you and San and sealed you two up in this room. What if the Academy did abandon you both? Weapons are replaceable.

“I’m here with you now, aren’t I?”

He’s always been there.

You lifted your head off his shoulder to gaze up at him.

Gone was the little boy you worried about whenever you two trained separately. The one who was easily thrown and bullied around by his much stronger contenders. You were afraid of losing him even then because you had wondered why someone with such a gentle heart could ever hurt people. For goodness sake, he continued to let himself get beaten up just because one of the much younger trainees out of desperation and hunger, stole a piece of roasted sweet potato.

Before you now was a man. San still had the handsomeness he’s had since he was younger except it matured and bloomed into sharp features and a striking beauty that lost all the softness of his younger self. His body was no longer frail and sickly. His back and shoulders became broad, lean muscles had grown and given him more shape that reminded you of the prowess of a black panther.

But when he smiled.

He was the Sannie you cared for and loved so deeply…so quietly.

“Can you promise me something?” You asked, feeling your heart begin to ache.

“Anything for you.” He smiled softly down at you and you wished he hadn’t because it’d made your heart want him even more.

“If we get out of this alive…” you felt tears begin to form in your eyes. “Promise me you’ll leave the academy.”

“Y/N—,” he began to protest, sitting up a little bit you shushed him gently and changed your positions.

You cupped his face gently with your hands and looked straight into his eyes.

“When we get out of here, you need to disappear. Leave this life behind.”

San has never seen you cry since the Selection. Your eyes which were usually blank and cold, and that only ever warmed when you looked at him were glassy with tears and there was fear in them. Pure fear and hurt.

“P-please, Sannie. Leave the Academy.”

Why were you asking him something so difficult?

“You deserve more than this life. You should be able to live freely and to love freely. Leave all this behind. Leave me behind.” You were begging him now, your hot tears falling onto his beautiful face. His eyes were so gentle as they looked up at you.

“Don’t ask me of this, Y/N.” He tried to be stern to mask the breaking of his heart. “You know I can’t do that!” He wrapped his arms around your waist. “I can’t. I can’t…I can’t.” His voice was trembling, both your fears breaking you down.

“Do it for me, Sannie.” You wiped his tears away with your thumbs, fighting the urge to kiss the beauty mark on his upper cheek. “If one of us gets to be free, it should be you.”

“That’s not fair, Y/N.” He grabbed you by the back of your neck while his other hand brought your leg to be able to wrap around him, consumed by the need to be close to you. He pressed your forehead against his.

“We both deserve to live. If we’re talking about who should be free, it should be you.” He said through gritted teeth, still not letting all his composure go. How could you think so little of your life? “You’re not a weapon.”

He took your hand and placed it over where his heart would be. “We both have hearts that beat. We both have tears to cry. You breathe just like I do. You feel just like I do…you can love just like I do.”

San’s words echoed in your head, they rang like an alarm as those words breached the codes that the Academy programmed into you.

You couldn’t think straight. None of you could.

‘You can love just like I do.’

Could you, really?

Your bleary eyes searched San’s glimmering onyx orbs. You were scared to find nothing but conviction and such surety that made you believe him that you could. The hope in his eyes frightened you.

You didn’t know how to love. You only assumed to know that love was a precious emotion you could never have. The Academy said love was a weakness but all the training and programming they did, seemed to not exist at this very moment. Neither did it for San.

Well in his case, you had always been his exception to every rule. He’d break rules, laws, and bones for you.

“I don’t know if I can,” you sobbed softly. The fact you don’t even know how to love makes you feel as if you weren’t human.

Love was different from lust. You knew that. Everyone, even those under the Academy, had needs and everyone was left to handle it themselves as long as it didn’t compromise their abilities or get in the way of missions.

To put it simply, they just fucked for the feeling of it.

But no one touched you. You wouldn’t let it happen. You couldn’t. The other girls were nice enough to tell you how to do it yourself and you wondered if San has ever needed to get those needs out of the way…and the thought of who it could’ve been with made your chest ache at the thought.

“You can.” He smiled, so soft and gentle, it made you wonder if anyone else in the galaxy could look at you that way. So fondly and not the monster and killer you really were.

San held your hand that was against his heart tightly, still smiling up at you so sweetly you didn’t think you could handle that look. It was so foreign to you.

“Y/N, if you’ll let me,” San didn’t care anymore. If you two were going to die tomorrow and if he was going to do as you made him promise, he’d hold you and speak as if this was his last night in this life. “Let me make you feel. It doesn’t have to be love. But please, let me make you truly feel.”

You knew you could say no and it would be okay. All your time in the Academy, you realized the only time you ever felt safe was when you were with San. You didn’t have to keep your guard up with him and you didn’t have to lie to him.

Throwing all caution out the window and focusing on San, just him, you exhaled softly, unaware that you had been holding your breath.

“O-okay.” You held his face softly once more, telling yourself he was real. That he was here, he had never left you not once and he wouldn’t leave you til you told him to. “P-please Sannie.” Your voice quivered. “I want to feel alive.”

“Don’t cry, my darling,” he cooed, wiping your tears away. “You know I’ll do anything for you, right?”

You nodded, letting yourself enjoy the soft touch of his hands in your hair and on your face, and the warmth of his embrace.

“Can I kiss you?”

You felt heat bloom in your cheeks at the question. San knew you’d never been kissed. Well, he knew because first of all, he was your closest friend in the Academy and you told him everything, and secondly, he may or may not have scared off anyone else who wanted to.

“O-okay.” You’ve never felt so shy.

“I won’t ever hurt you, Y/N.” He leaned closer, your heart racing you felt as if it was going to jump out of your chest. “With everything I am and as long as I’m around, I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Your lips parted the slightest bit as his sweet words overwhelmed you with a sensation you’ve only ever felt in tingles whenever you were with him and now they were bursts of warmth that radiated throughout your body.

The plumpness of your lips and that innocent and pure way you gazed at home made him lose all his resolve. Softly as if handling the finest and most fragile porcelain, he pressed his lips against yours, their softness and their warmth, and the closeness of it all, made him feel as if the world had stopped.

You didn’t know what to do but when his lips gently moved against yours, a part of you made you do the same. It’s like your body needed to reciprocate his actions naturally. Maybe it was because you had thought about kissing him and wondered about it late at night til your face was hot and you were flustered at the imagination of what it’d feel to be closer to Sannie in a different way…

Gently, San helped you sit comfortably on his lap, supporting your back as he kissed you, tasting the sweetness of your lips that had a hint of metallic taste from the small cut on your lower lip. He’d kiss away all your cuts and bruises if you’d let him. He’d kiss them to make you forget the pain.

San was still holding back though.

He didn’t want to do anything you didn’t want.

But the way you had begun to kiss him back with the same need as he did, only made it harder for him to not lose himself.

Pulling away reluctantly, he looked at you. Your pretty lashes fluttered so prettily as you blinked dreamily at him, your lips were a glistening pink and your cheeks were glowing.

What made San fall even harder in that moment was the way you shyly looked away when he had been staring.

“Sannie…” you murmured, squeezing his shoulders nervously and completely aware that you were sitting on his lap, straddling him.

You just had your first kiss. San had just kissed you.

“Can I touch you?”

You felt your ears grow hot. “Aren’t you already?” You murmured. His hands were already on your waist and when they weren’t there they were in your hair or caressing your face.

“Let me rephrase that,” He chuckled and pressed his lips onto the corner of your mouth. “Can I…” he kissed your cheek, each kiss making warmth bloom wherever they touched you. “Touch…” He caressed the curve of your spine, your lower back tingling at the gentle touch. “All of you?”

“Y-yes.” You had uttered out so quickly and softly, that you felt embarrassed. You didn’t even think twice.

“You can touch me too,” San began to kiss along the column of your neck, the sensation making you shiver. “You can touch me however you want, Y/N.” He gripped your hips just a little bit tighter, enjoying the way you cutely squirmed.

“Sannie,” you softly called out to him, making him part from your neck which he had been kissing and licking.

His brows rose at your call, waiting for whatever you needed to say but in all honesty, you just needed to feel his lips on yours again.

So without a word, you cradled San’s handsome face in both hands before crashing your lips onto his, surprising not only him but also yourself at how greedy you had become. You didn’t know you could feel such sensations and the kiss just sparked a flame you never knew could come alive, and now that it was lit, it began to burn.

“T-touch me,” you whispered desperately between kisses, his own lips hungrily kissing you back.

San felt as if he was dreaming when those words slipped past your lips and even more so how prettily you moaned when caressed the underside of your breast with his thumb. He was surprised with how sensitive you were. You were still in your cat suit and yet you reacted so quickly to his touch.

His lips and your lips messily danced with desperation to drink each other's heat and passion. Your own hands had begun to tug at his armored protective suit while he also made quick work of your catsuit. San not wanting to leave the warmth of your lips, took his time to unzip the front of your suit. He wanted to be gentle with you despite the lust that was burning him from the inside out he just wanted to feel you and make you feel.

His lips finally left yours only to attack your neck with hot kisses, making you moan out softly. Gently he laid you on the worn-out mattress, parting from you completely so he could kneel between your thighs. Your eyes remained on him as he removed his protective vest, discarding it somewhere in the room before he peeled off his long sleeve over his head. His muscular chiseled body was illuminated by the moonlight, every ridge and ripple of muscle was accentuated by the shadows of the room. You felt a familiar heat pool in your lower body the more you stared at San’s physique and you blushed and turned away when he caught you staring.

The edge of San’s mouth twitched into a small smile, finding your timidness to be rather adorable. He liked how flustered you became because of him. San reached for your hips to pull you closer, your eyes widening when he did.

San found the zipper of your catsuit again, his heart thrumming in his chest as he slowly pulled it down. His breathing grew heavy as yours quickened with how the suit slowly opened revealing glimpses of your naked skin beneath. The rise and fall of your chest along with the sight of the valley of your breasts and hints of your body before him, made his throat dry.

He wanted to take his time but at the same time, his long infatuation that had turned to something more over the years made it difficult.

When the cold air kissed your bare skin, you felt your nipples pebble and harden against the fabric of the suit, making you want to rub your thighs together but that was impossible when San was knelt between your thighs.

“Can I keep going?” He asked you, pausing the pull of your zipper before it could go lower than your belly button. He searched for any uneasiness in your eyes but instead, he found such a sweet yet sinful look in them.

You nodded. “Y-yes, please.”

Gently, he helped you slip your arms out of the suit, his breath hitching at the sight of your bare pretty breasts bouncing free as he bunched the specialized Kevlar-like fabric at your waist. His palms were at least a micro-centimeter away from your skin. Almost afraid and hesitant to truly feel you. An assassin without their suit was just as deadly as them having one but with you, he felt as if without it, you were just a woman. A woman who wanted to be loved…a woman he loved.

Kissing you drove him crazy enough but to get to touch you? He’s going to crumble.

It seemed you had noticed his hesitation and driven by your silent desire, you took his hand and splayed fingers and pressed his palm over the middle of your chest, close to where your heart would be.

You didn’t say a word as his eyes snapped to meet yours. All it told him was that this was consensual, that you wanted him to touch you, and that he could keep going.

If this was truly yours and his last night in this world, none of you wanted to hold back.

“Sannie…” his heart stopped when you softly called out his name. Your eyes looked into his as if he brought you peace, there was no turmoil nor anxiety in them. The cold and dark blankness that they held when you’re on a mission or on Academy grounds was absent.

Right here, before him was just you. The young girl he once knew that the Academy caged and programmed to be a weapon in their beck and call, a woman who did not have the time to love or be loved, nor was allowed to. But if you were to tell him you were incapable of loving, he’d prove to you that you were wrong.

Maybe you didn’t know it then but the compassion you had shown him during your trainee days when he was nothing but the runt of the litter of kids with no future chosen by the Academy to be given a chance, that in its own way was love.

The way you stuck by him, took time to check if he was okay and to defend him from higher ranking assassins, even if it was platonic or more, it was love.

You slipped your fingers into his, intertwining them.

“Keep going.”

There was a hint of sadness in your smile despite the way you looked so longingly at him as if he were the warm shining sun.

He continued to unravel you. Gently, he rolled the fabric to slip past your hips. Despite your line of work, your skin was close to perfect in his eyes. No deep scars nor wounds that left a memory of your missions plus the Academy took good care of their favorites.

But the sight before him proved him wrong.

His heart dropped into his stomach and he felt your hand squeeze his.

Below your belly button and not fully hidden by the waistband of your black underwear, a long jagged scar curved along your lower abdomen. The scar was healed but it left its mark. It sickly smiled at him in a deeper shade than your complexion with pinkish hues.

“W-what is this?” He held your hip gently, his thumb caressing your hipbone afraid to touch that area skin, should you not like it.

He felt his heart break when you only looked at him sadly. “Y/N, w-what is this?” He croaked out hoarsely, his heart breaking when you looked at him that way and continued to hold his hand in yours.

“My graduation.”

The world stopped and he heard nothing but a dull ringing in his ears.

The Academy.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it didn’t matter. Why should I speak of something that I could never get back.”

“D-don’t talk like that. Y/N you should’ve told me.”

You sat up, heart breaking when you heard his voice crack. San didn’t even realize that tears were falling from his eyes as he stared at that mocking smiling scar. Just when he thought the Academy couldn’t take any more from you, they took everything.

Well, almost everything. But not him. They were not taking him away from you. Never.

“Sannie, don’t cry.” You smiled, wiping his tears away. “I didn’t tell you 'cause I knew you’d cry.” You took a deep breath, finally telling your closest friend of so many years the secret you’ve kept from him. “This is why you should leave the Academy and live a life you truly deserve. You have a chance for a future you want. Mine…well…mine was taken from me. It was a silly dream I had when we were kids.”

“When we spent time around the towns and I’d see people getting married and having families, I thought I could have that. I thought I was going to marry you and have a family. At twelve years old.” You laughed softly at the childhood memory. “At twelve years old, I looked at you, my best friend, and thought ‘I’m going to marry San’ and that we’re going to be as happy as the families I’ve seen. That I would have a child and give them the life I never had…but then the Academy happened.”

San’s tears streamed down his handsome face and you held his face in your hands once more, making him look at you.

“I don’t want to think about that tonight. I don’t want to think about what I went through to stay alive.” You leaned down to kiss his jaw and your breath was hot against his ear as you uttered words that shattered his heart even more. “So don’t touch me like I’m made of glass. You can’t break something that’s already broken. Make me forget, Sannie.”

You kissed him again then took his hand that was on your hip and guided it to cup your breast, your body tingling and warming at the touch. The simple gesture told him one thing. Throw caution out the window. Nothing else mattered now except you and him. If both of you were going to die tomorrow, you both wanted to feel love and act on desires that both of you held back on.

Driven by the love he harbored for you for so long, he attacked your neck with heated kisses and caressed your bare torso with such a need to feel your skin.

Your warmth and your scent, he could die in it.

Sloppily, he licked and nibbled at the juncture of your neck and shoulder before going lower, and hungrily taking the soft peak of your breast into his hot mouth.

You gasped and moaned at the sudden and new sensation, your body tingling over and your hips mindlessly grinding on San’s thigh. You shivered at the spark of friction and loosely wrapped your arms around his head, your fingers combing through his hair as his tongue flicked and swirled over your sensitive nipple while his other hand gave your other breast attention. He squeezed and massaged them just as greedy as his mouth was latched onto your right tit.

Soon, clothes were haphazardly thrown away and you were on your back completely on display for San’s eyes and his eyes only. The coldness of the room was forgotten as your bodies began to burn with lust and yours continued to grow hotter as he kissed along your inner thigh, his slit cat-like predatory gaze never leaving your face.

Your thigh was hooked over his left shoulder and San took his time kissing your soft plush thighs, nipping and biting where he wanted and enjoying the way you squirmed and trembled. But when he came face to face with your pretty pink pussy before him, he felt like he could cum untouched.

His gaze was hot as he stared at your core and you wanted to close your thighs but it was impossible with San’s position. He rested his hand over your lower belly as he licked his lips.

“You’re dripping,” he said lowly, eying your slick pink folds and your little pulsing hole that pushed more arousal out the more he teased you. He brushed his thumb over your clit and your hips bucked.

Fuck, he swore to himself. You were so sensitive.

Biting his lip, he collected your arousal and messily spread it all over your cunt. You could feel the warm sticky slick over your skin and you only grew more needy for his touch. You’ve touched yourself plenty of times when you needed to…but it was different when it was someone else, it was different that it was San.

“Fuck,” he hissed softly, feeling how wet you were and how easily his thumb was able to circle around your sensitive clit, enjoying the reactions he was eliciting from you. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You nodded, shamelessly.

“Have you ever been touched here?” He asked, wondering if you were like the other assassins who deal with their desires by sleeping with another assassin. If you answered yes, he’d be jealous. He’s already jealous at the thought of someone else being as close as he was to you right now.

But your answer was more than he expected.

“N-no. Just me.” You breathily replied, biting back a moan when he pressed a little more as he massaged your clit in slow languid circles.

“Yeah? Just you? All alone?”

“Mhm Hm.” You bit your lip, your hips bucking into his hand for more.

You were driving him crazy. He was imagining you touching yourself in your room. Pretty little hand in your panties playing with yourself underneath the covers and biting back your moans like you were right now.

“You know…there’s something better than just your fingers,” he inched closer, his breath fanning over your pussy, the heat of it making you clench around nothing. He hooked his arms underneath your thighs to hold you down and keep your hips still.

“Your fingers?” You guessed, blinking at him and watching his every move. You found it rather embarrassing that he was this close to your intimate area.

“Definitely,” he chuckled at your response. “But not that, sweetheart.” He kissed the top of your pubic bone. “Something even better.”

Before you could ask what, his pink tongue peeked from his lips and licked a long stripe from your dripping hole and up your clit. You moaned at the feeling, squirming in his hold. Not one second did his eyes leave yours, the intensity of them made you need him more, and when he slowly flicked his tongue around your clit, tasting you, the pleasure went straight to your head.

“A-ah, Sannie,” you gasped but it didn’t end there.

As he had done with your breast, he latched his hot lips onto your core and began tasting you.

San moaned against your pussy at the sweet taste of your cunt, slurping and hungrily licking at your arousal as if he didn’t want to let a single drop go to waste.

It was downright dirty. Pornographic.

He kissed and made out with your core like he had with your lips. You never knew that you could feel such mind-numbing pleasure like this. His tongue was so hot and his lips were so soft, and just when you thought it couldn’t get better, you felt the tip of his finger tease your entrance.

It was almost too much.

You gripped his dark hair and tugged when you felt him slip a digit inside of you. His finger was thicker than yours, longer too. A rush of arousal washed over you when you heard him moan against your pussy when you pulled his hair.

“You’re so wet, fuck. You taste so good.” He briefly left your clit then licked at the pearl before saying. “My finger slipped in so easily, sweetheart. I think you can take another one already. Can’t you?”

“Y-yes. San, please. I-I need more. Please.” You panted breathlessly. Just as you asked, he delivered.

He added another finger into your hole, slowly slipping them in and losing his fucking mind at how tight you were sucking his digits in. He could only imagine how heavenly it must feel when it was his cock instead.

“So fucking tight, sweetheart.” He bit his lip, slowly beginning to pump his fingers in and out of you, his fingers completely covered in your slick. “You like that, darling? Love how my fingers are filling you up?”

You nodded, gripping the mattress below you as your hips moved on their own, and words you’ve never thought you’d say out loud slipped past your lips. “W-want to feel you deeper. M-more please.”

San could only smile at your reaction before he latched his mouth again onto your clit while fingers curled inside of you. You swore at how easily he found that spot you desperately tried to find on your own in the privacy of your room. His fingers were thicker and your chaste walls welcomed them so easily. The way he touched you and pleasured you felt so good, you didn’t care about the lewd squelching sounds your pussy made as he fucked his fingers into you. You could even feel your arousal drip from your hole and onto the mattress.

His eyes were peacefully closed shut as he tasted you. It was as if he was savoring every single bit of you and this kind of attention was making a familiar warmth bloom in your chest.

“S-San, w-wait, I-I’m,” you stuttered out, feeling your core tighten, the familiar sensation of being on that edge far more intense than when you touched yourself alone.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay,” he murmured against your core, releasing your overstimulated clit with a soft wet pop. “Cum for me. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Something about what he said and how he flicked his tongue against your clit as his fingers mercilessly pumped and curled inside of you, sent you over the edge. You gasped as your hips trembled and your walls convulsed around his fingers, your climax making you shake and your mind go blank momentarily.

San hummed deeply, the vibration of the sound along with how he slowly lapped your release and moved his lips as he did, made some part of your brain melt.

He couldn’t get enough and he quite literally was acting as if this was his last meal on earth.

“S-Sannie, wait—ah!” He prolonged your organs with his lazy kisses and languid kitten licks.

Once he had gotten enough (though he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough), he parted from your lower lips to look at you through hooded eyes full of hunger and lust. It made your heart race.

With his eyes locked on yours, he thought his two fingers that had been inside of your heat to his lips and licked your essence off of it, a sudden heat passing through your body at the visual.

“You taste like heaven, sweetheart.” He moaned deeply, taking his time to taste you on his fingers.

“H-how about you?” You asked, your voice breathy and higher than its usual tone.

He caressed your thighs, lovingly as you came down from your high. “What about me sweetheart?”

Your hands caressed his toned stomach, tracing the lines of his abs and stopping before the waistband of his briefs.

“Do I get to taste you?”

San’s cock throbbed at your question that sounded so innocent from your lips. He wants to make this all about you but you were making it difficult for him to not be selfish and focus on making you feel good.

Still lightheaded from your orgasm, you sat up and crawled to San, the man before you gulping at the visual of you on your knees and seeing the beautiful shape of your back, it was like looking at a cat. You knelt by him, meeting his height before placing your hands on his shoulders and moving him to sit on the mattress with his back against the wall.

“I want to taste you, Sannie.” You purred, sitting a top of your folded legs, his own legs spread to make room for you.

He raised a brow watching you, amused at your actions. Even like this, he looked so attractive.

San smiled softly at you and caressed your cheek as you looked at him with round wide eyes. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

You nodded, experimentally teasing the imprint of his length in his briefs. His breath hitched at the mere touch of your fingertips, his excitement making his thighs tense.

“Teach me how?” You looked at him through your lashes and the sweet determined look you had turned him on even more.

You were rather shy that you asked him to show you but little did you know, that just sent his mind places. Was he really your first?

Curiously, you palmed his length making a shaky breath leave him. “Did that feel good Sannie?”

“F-fuck… y-yes. It felt good sweetheart.”

“Can I take it off?” You tugged at the waistband lightly and he nodded eagerly.

You pulled down his boxers and once the garment was down past his hips, his cock sprung free from its confines. It slapped against his hard abdomen and you felt your mouth water at the sight.

Not knowing what it’d do to him, you slowly wrapped your hand around his length to gauge his size and San hissed at the warmth of your soft palm. He was hot and stiff, and the pink head was glistening with a slick liquid. With your other hand, your fingertips spread his precum all over the bulbous round tip.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re torturing me.” He groaned the more you massaged this sensitive tip.

You felt your core tingle at the sight of his furrowed brows and his parted lips as you touched him. You wanted to make him feel good too.

“What do you want me to do, Sannie?” Your voice was so sweet.

“F-fuck, baby, spit on it a-and then wrap your pretty hand around me, okay?” His hand gently cupped the back of your neck.

A little hesitant but doing as he said, you spat on his cock, and the dirty sound and act of it made his cock twitch. You were guessing that you should spread it around and when he hummed, it told you, you were doing something right.

“Such a good girl, sweetheart.” He cooed. “Now wrap your hand around me. Fuuuck. Just like that.”

Feeling excited with all the praise he was giving, you kissed his neck slowly, doing as he did to you earlier.

“M-move your hand up and down, sweetheart.”

“O-okay.”

Your saliva mixed with his precum gave lubrication for you to easily glide your hand up and down his shaft.

“That’s it, baby. That feels so good. Fuck.” He moaned. “Come here, let me kiss you.”

You do as he says and kiss with his, moving your lips with his, and your core clenched when you could taste a sweet yet slightly salty flavor on your lips. Was that you? The fact you were tasting yourself on his lips turned you on.

The two of you stayed like that; making out while your hand pumped his cock, feeling his girth and his length. You couldn’t help but wonder how he’d feel inside of you but you wanted to taste him first like you said.

You pulled away from his lips and they pouted at the loss of them but he couldn’t stay disappointed for long, not when your tongue just did a kitten lick on his sensitive tip.

“Fuck, sweetheart, are you really sure?” He moaned, not wanting to force you. He was happy enough that you had been jerking him off. You really didn’t have to return the favor if you didn’t want to.

“Mhm.” You hummed, following your instincts and taking his leaking tip in your mouth, while your hand continued to move up and down his shaft.

His taste made your head spin and your clit throb. You liked the taste of him, it was a little salty but it was just him.

“Shit-,” he threw his head back, his other hand gripping the mattress as you licked and suckled at his tip. “That feels so good. Fuck. Don’t stop. Such a good girl using your pretty mouth on me. Do I taste good?”

You hummed so cutely as a yes. God, he’d do anything for you. How were you this cute?

“Do you think you can take more of my cock in your mouth? You think you can take it?”

His dirty talk made you even wetter and you were sure that you were dripping at this point.

Could you take it? There was only one way to find out.

Breathing through your nose and flattening out your tongue, you slipped his cock deeper almost choking when the hot tip touched the back of your throat but you against your gag reflex and tried to mimic what your hand had been doing. You slowly moved your head up and down, bobbing rhythmically on his cock.

San moaned breathily. This was your first time taking cock in your mouth? “You’re a fucking natural, baby. Fuck. That feels good. You look so pretty like this. Could cum just watching you.”

What you couldn’t take in your mouth, you made up for with your hand, earning more moans from San. You liked this. You liked making him feel good. You liked having his cock inside your mouth, you wanted to taste more than his cock.

You wanted more.

“Fuck,” he swore when he felt you bravely take a little deeper, feeling the way the start of your throat constricted at the intrusion of his cock. “Sweetheart, if you keep doing that—,”

You bobbed your head faster, not caring that you were making such lewd slurping and sucking sounds. He had done the same for you and at that moment you understood why he had enjoyed tasting you.

San’s thighs began to clench and his core tightened further. His knuckles were turning white at how hard he was gripping the mattress in one hand while the other grabbed your ass, making you yelp and take more of him deeper in your throat, which pushed him over the edge.

There was a cute surprised squeak that came from you which was the cherry on top of him spilling his load inside your mouth. Your eyes widened as you felt his hot release go down your throat and they fluttered close as you savored the taste of him.

San was losing it when he felt your throat move as you swallowed his cum. He didn’t know you were going to do that. What’s making his head spin further and making his hazy orgasmic bliss last longer was how you kept him inside your mouth, just the tip, and licking the slit of his cock head.

You pulled away, his cock falling on his stomach, still hard and you sat so cutely in between his legs as he panting and coming down from his high.

You wiped the edge of your mouth and licked what was left of him on your lips.

“Sannie tastes good.”

You didn’t know you had said that out loud in such a soft manner that made San swoon.

San like a cat, pounced on you.

He was once again all over you. Your back was against the mattress as he found his place between your thighs. You eyed his cock, still hard and glistening from when it had been in your mouth. Your walls clenched when San wrapped his own hand around his pretty cock and pressed the head against your clit making you whimper.

San rubbed the tip of his cock through your slit, spreading your slick and coating himself with it. You were so drenched that it was driving him crazy, he wanted to bury his cock deep inside you so bad but when his eyes met the long scar smiling from one hip bone to the other. He wanted to take his time. For you.

“Y/N,” he said softly, holding your hips with care. Even though you told him that he couldn’t break what was broken, he wouldn’t want to think of breaking you. In fact, he wanted to make you feel full, whole, and complete. He wanted to care for you in a way you deserved. “Am I your first?”

The sudden question threw you off. It made you realize that he was going to be your first. Concepts like those shouldn’t matter to you especially since you didn’t have the time to think of such a thing.

“Y-yes…” you admitted, relaxing a little. “You’re the first person to ever kiss me too. I want you to be my first, Sannie.” Your heart was aching while your body burned for him. “And if this is our last night alive, I wouldn’t have imagined anyone else being my first and my last. I’m glad…it’s you.”

San didn’t know if this was the right time to say the three words he’d been dying to say to you for so long. “For me…” he slowly moved his hips, rubbing his length between your slick folds, making your face relax into that flushed blissful expression.

“It’s always been you.”

You didn’t have time to think or question what that meant. Not when the tip of his cock teased at your entrance, just pressing against it.

Slowly, he let the head pop inside your cunt, both of you gasping. The girth of his cock stretched you out more than you could ever with your two fingers and there was a slight sting as he entered, making you bite your lip and whimper.

But he was attentive.

San intertwined his fingers with yours while his other hand held your hip still as he slowly, little by little, inch by inch, pushed his cock deeper into your tight wet heat. The velvety warmth of your walls made his head spin and the way they hugged his cock was heaven. The carnal part inside of him wanted nothing more than to thrust deeply into you and have you falling apart for him.

“S-Sannie, m-more.”

He growled lowly. Despite this being your first time, the wetness of your heat made his cock slip in so easily. Both of you watched as his cock split your lower lips apart and how his length slowly disappeared into you. You were bewildered that San was inside of you. You never knew just how badly you wanted to be close to him until tonight.

The circumstances were dire, it was hopeless but you had him.

“I want to feel more.” You squeezed his hand as he pushed his hips a little further. “Y-you’re so thick.”

San must be dreaming.

You brought your free hand over your mouth as the sensation of being filled up was such a pleasure you’ve never felt before. It was too much and not enough at the same time.

“You’re taking me so well, sweetheart. You’re doing so well.”

He cooed and praised you for each inch you took of him and there was something about the heat of him inside you, spreading apart your chaste walls that made your thighs shiver as he bottomed out.

San let out a long exhale, cursing as he felt his whole length be snuggly embraced by your velvety warm walls. He could even feel your arousal coat him and drip out of your entrance. He was ascending. He was the closest he could ever get to the person he’s only ever seen as the love of his life.

You looked so beautiful before him. How could you be so bashful yet exuding such allure? Your hand squeezed his as you adjusted to his cock inside of you, he could even feel the way your walls squeeze and contracted as you did. Fuck. He was your first. The first man to ever have the privilege to be this close to you, to feel you, and to see you in a state so vulnerable that you hid from everyone.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” San asked, massaging your hips to help you relax. You were squeezing him so tight. “Does it hurt?”

His sweet voice and the care in them made your heart crack. What did you do to deserve someone like Choi San?

“N-not really. It’s just…new.” You whimpered when the head of his cock that was in your mouth earlier was snug against your cervix. “I-I can feel you.”

That made San’s head spin. “Y-yeah?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, holding his hand and looking into his eyes. “I…feel…you.”

Each word held so much weight and emotion that San couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and crashing his lips on yours. He could feel you too and he loved the feeling of you. He drew his hips back just a little, slowly giving you shallow thrusts to get you used to him. You gasped at the sensation of his cock gliding and scraping your walls, the friction so sinfully and mind-numbingly good.

San continued to kiss you, his tongue delving into your warm wet mouth, the two of you kissing messily as his cock eased its way out of your walls leaving only the tip in. You squirmed. The first taste of the motion of his length inside you sparked a rush that felt addicting and when he easily slid back into you again, it confirmed that growing addiction.

“S-Sannie!” You cried out, arms wrapping around him, holding onto him as he stroked your walls deeply.

“F-fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.” He groaned, burying his face into your neck, kissing the spots he hadn’t marked with love bites.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, your lust mixing with greed as you needed more of the feeling that San was giving you. You’ve never felt so much in your time of being alive. It was new. It was something you never had before.

The deep passionate rolls of hips with every intention to make you feel pleasure, the hot kisses on your neck, the sweet nothings he’d whisper, and the gentle caresses on your body. It made you dizzy, you’ve never lost yourself in something so…euphoric.

As San continued to glide his cock in and out of your tight heat, with his forehead against your chest, his eyes met that scar on below your belly once more, his heart aching. Why did they take that away from you? It was so cruel of them.

His emotions were all mixed up. You two might not live to see another day after this night and the two of you acting on your emotions and passions that had been suppressed for so long were both overwhelming. Plus the truth of what happened to you during your Academy days hurt him.

All he knew was he wanted to you to feel all of him. To make you feel his love and desire for you with every touch, every kiss, and every strong drive of his hips.

The passion and the way you two had been showing it to one another became more carnal as the lust muddled both your brains with nothing but unspoken love and the need to just fuck.

San’s hips picked up their pace. He thrusted and drove into you so deeply, each scrape and glide of his length inside you made his fat cock head kiss your cervix and pound into that one spot that sent you shivering and moaning.

San liked those sounds of yours. Accompanied by the lewd wet squelching and the sound of skin slapping against skin, it was driving him crazy.

“You feel that, sweetheart?” He placed his palm just below where your scar was, where he was fucking you. “That’s me.”

“C-can feel you, Sannie! Oh god,” you cried out, nails digging into his back. You could feel him waking up every fiber of your being with pleasure. “Want to feel more of you. D-don’t stop, please. Want you. I want you.” You were rambling mindlessly too lost in the pleasure, too lost in the heat of his thick cock filling you up.

“I won’t stop, baby. Can’t stop. I need you so bad. You need me to right? Fuck,” he felt you squeeze him tighter. “I’ll make you feel good, Y/N.” He moved his palm lower to find your sensitive pearl all puffy and sticky with your arousal.

Your back arched into him as he massaged your clit.

“You look so beautiful,” he whispered, fucking you til you both get your fill. Even if you both came now, he doesn’t think he’ll have enough of you. He wanted to fuck you so passionately. He wanted to drink what he could of you as this might just be your last night together. “Are you close, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes!” You croaked out, panting with each thrust of his cock. “W-wanna cum, Sannie. P-please.”

“Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll make you cum. I’ll fucking make you cum.” He growled, his hips picking up their pace. Your mouth fell open. The new pace had his cock hitting your g-spot at such a rapid pace you couldn’t think at all. All you knew was you wanted him to keep fucking you.

“H-harder. Need to feel you deeper.” You whined, hugging him close and your words only made the man before you go feral.

The snap of his hips shook your whole body with pleasure that only crescendoed your bliss further into euphoria. That tight knot within your tummy was reaching its limit. With how San was moaning and groaning against your neck, and how his fingers on your clit glided so easily with your slick was sending you over the edge.

You chanted his name over and over so breathlessly, your nails digging deeper into San’s back.

Snap!

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as your walls clamped down around San, your thighs and hips convulsing uncontrollably as pleasure swooped through your body. You couldn’t help the way your nails clawed down his back which made the man before you moan brokenly as his hips stilled and glued against you.

Heat began to fill your walls and your womb as you came hard. San’s thigh muscles were taut as he emptied what he could into you. It was driving him crazy. Your walls were sucking him in a way where his cum just kept flowing til he had nothing more to give you.

“S-Sa—,” you didn’t have to finish calling out for him before he leaned forward to capture your lips. The kiss was slow and lingering…it was gentle and deep.

“I’ve got you,” he said briefly leaving the kiss to take a moment to straighten his back to look at you before him.

You were glowing. Your beautiful skin was covered with a thin sheen of sweat that made you glisten beneath the moonlight and your face was flushed. Your eyes looked up at him hazily, blinking prettily as you were still in your high. His eyes then drifted to where the two of you were still connected. Your puffy lips were split around his cock and you couldn’t help but look down there too.

Slowly, he slid himself out inch by inch. You whimpered at the loss of fullness but when you saw the pink cock head slip out and his length slam against his abdomen coated in your slick and pearly white release? Your walls clenched around nothing. With his thumb, he pulled one of your lower lips gently to get a good look at your pink pussy and his eyes darkened once more when he saw his cum leak out your pulsing hole.

San spread his release all over your pussy, his cat-like eyes curious and staring deeply at where he ‘marked’ you in his way.

“M-more.”

Did he imagine that?

“S-Sannie,” you spread your lips apart for him, making him swallow the lump in his throat. His eyes went to your face, his head spinning when you looked at him with such want and need. Could you look at him like that forever? “M-more. Need to feel you more.”

With San….you never had to ask him twice.

With the same passion and desire as he did earlier if not more, he was on you again. This time the two of you didn’t care about being gentle. You two were desperate for one another. Utterly desperate.

Then you found yourself locked against San with his arm around your waist, your back pressing against his body as he fucked deeply into you without thought. Your bodies were sticky as your shared heat kept you both hot, the cold forgotten as he pounded into you.

You moaned over and over for him, the sound a beautiful melody to his ears.

“I-I don’t think I can stop.” He rasped against your ear, slamming his pelvis against your ass filling your cunt up to the brim with his cock. “I don’t want to stop,” San growled while you cried as he slammed particularly deep, the new position making him reach that spongy spot inside you so fucking easily.

He’s gonna make love to you til you both are absolutely spent. Til he was empty and til you fell apart and had enough of him.

In that little walled-off prison you two were in, the two of you indulged in ways you both could never have during your time in the Academy. Boundaries they programmed into you were broken, lines were crossed and two beating hearts were fully awakened…and for the first time, truly, alive.

Then…when it was done…when that night passed and dawn broke. Those two hearts remained in each other’s arms, embracing one another as they feared for what the morrow would bring.

Not knowing that San would have to keep the promise he kept you.

“You deserve more than this life. You should be able to live freely and to love freely. Leave all this behind. Leave me behind.”

But he wasn’t going to leave you behind.

He could never.

-- feel free to scream in my askbox!

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#tokki;sway with me #ateez fanfic #ateez au #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez ot8 x reader #ateez smut #san x reader #choi san x reader #san smut #Choi San smut

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yeokii · 2 months

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⌗ ADORE YOU ﹕이희승 (TEASER)

꒰ synopsis ꒱ all hopes were crushed when you realized there was no way to get close to your crush, choi beomgyu. your advances to get close to him never seemed to work. so, you decided to get closer to his best friend, heeseung, by joining the broadcasting club. but as scripts change, so do crushes, and you end up falling for his best friend instead.

▸ auditions are open . . . !

ㅤ❕MATCHMAKER ── crush bsf ! heeseung x reader

fast forward ⃕ [ genre ] : written, fluff, angst, 90s au, unrequited love

meet the members ! beomgyu, gaeul, jungwon, taehyun, juyeon [more tba.]

warnings 𖧷 [only in this scene] unrequited love, yn kinda uses hee, thats all I think

ㅤhe's a real catch ▹ est. 2OK

⌕ [ archives ] one result found . . . hi (still on hiatus kinda) js came here to post the fic teaser :D (im prolly gna post this after mocks or after my igcses) also ty @yenqa sewlmate for writing the synopsis (ly dookie) send an ask or comment to be added in the taglist !

THE FALL OF NINETEEN-NINETY SIX MARKED A PIVOTAL MOMENT IN YOUR LIFE. Ever since you came into the world, you never really could grasp the concept of love.

You wrapped your head around the myths and tales your mother would read to you every night. You thought that every princess would have her own shining knight in armor. So, after thirteen years of living, where was yours?

Your knight in shining armor, or knights in shining armor, existed within the pages of the comic books you read. You often wondered if they would magically pop out of your books and transport you into their world. Similarly, you wondered whether any of the characters from your adored TV shows would step out and bring you into their lives.

So, it wasn't a surprise when your jaw dropped to the ground as you saw the most beautiful man in your life (well, technically, boy). If the epitome of beauty was a fourteen-year-old boy, it would be Beomgyu.

But it wasn’t just his face that made your thirteen-year-old self swoon over him, it was also the way he acted. You loved the way he conversed, his smooth way of talking at a young age and the way he smiled at you every time he made jokes with his friends. You loved how his eyes lightened every time he’d pull a silly prank.

But the problem was, he never talked to you. You admired him from afar. You never actually had the guts to talk to him, as if. You were content with watching his funny actions from a distance.

There were some moments when you pushed aside your nervousness and talked to him. You remember having butterflies in your stomach the moment you first talked to him. There were times when you both were paired up as project partners for a biology assessment and at that moment, you swore you could’ve worshiped the floor that your biology teacher walked on due to her giving you an opportunity like this.

You knew this was an opportunity to make your move. And you did. You brought him small snacks with little notes on them. Gave him gifts regularly. Maybe even took lessons from your best friend on how to subtly flirt with him. You really thought you had him. Because whenever you used to play out these little acts, you saw the subtle smile on his face. You were so close. It’s like the universe laid it out for you. Gosh, how lucky you were!

Luck. The luck that you thought you had. If luck was a person, you would’ve tackled it to the ground already. Because the day you were about to confess to him was the day he announced his new girlfriend.

His first girlfriend. You doubt you called it ‘love’ since the only thing she cared about was that he was popular and pretty. That’s it! All that girl could get from Beomgyu was his looks and his reputation. You could’ve scoffed at the sight.

Beomgyu was so much more than that. He was loyal, kind, and trustworthy. And she went for his looks. Even though she had him, you felt as if she was missing out on so much. You were partly sad due to them getting together and also due to Beomgyu getting used to his looks.

So, you were practically prancing when you heard the news of their breakup a month later. Did you care that Beomgyu was absolutely heartbroken? Well, yes, but you felt relieved that Beomgyu was finally unleashed from that mean troll's wrath.

And as he got older, he grew more handsome. And God did you love it. When you entered high school he was a completely different person. He had gotten more flirty and way more pretty. He was way out of your league.

Out of the years you were in this crappy high school, you made absolutely no improvement in your and Beomgyu’s relationship. Beomgyu, who kept getting new flings every summer and tons of situationships seemed to discard your existence. One could only say ‘What the fuck?’

Your thoughts swirled, and you had a collection of emotions roaming around your head until your best friend jolted you back into reality with a gentle nudge on the shoulder.

“Are you even listening?” Seori’s voice cut through your thoughts, annoyed, since she had to explain what she was talking about in the first place.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You blinked, focusing your attention on your best friend.

She sighs, “I was saying that I think Doyoung is going to ask me out.” Seori pouts “Why does he not get that I don’t like him that way, jeez.”

Her ramble about her current boy toy washed out in the background. You were once back in your thoughts until you saw him heading into the cafeteria. Beomgyu entered the cafeteria, his smile widening at something his best friend said.

Lee Heeseung, Beomgyu’s best friend. His ride or die. As long as you can remember, they were attached to the hip. They were basically the package deal. If Beomgyu was the life of the party, Heeseung would hold up his hair while he threw up in the host’s toilet. While Beomgyu was the exact depiction of a social butterfly, Heeseung remained aloof, keeping people at arm’s length. You could only wonder how he dealt with Beomgyu’s outbursting personality.

“Earth to Yn!” Seori snapped her fingers in front of your face which once again, brought you back to reality.

“Sorry.” You sheepishly smiled looking at your best friend's annoyed face. Your friend followed the gaze you had fixed before looking over to her. And her eyes followed the trail of your alleged ‘man’–– Beomgyu.

“Him again.”A sigh erupted from Soeri, having enough of your rambling over your four-year-old crush.

“I’m sorry, alright!” You pouted, your back hunching over the disappointing development between you two which was nowhere to be found. “He’s just so cute, God!”

Your sigh was followed by your best friend. Not long after, your best friend’s fed-up expression converted into a rather eager one.

“I got it!” She exclaimed, her hand hitting your back while she practically screamed. You winced in pain as a few fellow students gave you judgemental stares.

“All you have to do is be close with his best friend, Lee Heeseung.” She slowly said, almost like a mastermind coming up with a villainous plan–well, you would consider your best friend to be some sort of evil criminal.

But this, this opened new angles in your head. It felt like the universe–or more like your best friend–laid it out for you again. Your once unsolvable puzzle showed a new direction, and the missing piece was all in front of you.

Okay, maybe you felt bad that you were going to use Heeseung like that, even looking forward to it. But, you were really desperate. To the point where you would actually be eager to attend Sunday mass just to ask God for Beomgyu to like you back or even spare one glance at you. Well, what could you do?

Out of excitement, you pulled Seori in for a hug with a squeal while giving her a kiss on the cheek which she in return, yelped. “Seori, you’re a genius!”

“Yes, I know.” She laughed a bit, escaping your tight grip on her before wiping the spot you kissed her hastily with her hands.

“I mean, how hard could it be?”

You smiled and your gaze wet up to the boy you loved for most of your life, then slowly to the equally handsome boy.

Jackpot.

adore you tags . @wonsbaer @isoobie @armydrcamers @heegyuwrld @nxzz-skz @txtlyn @enhastolemyheart @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @sumzysworld @eleanorheartschishiya @petalsofink @bluujeans @jvjsssnaa @iamliacamila @m3chigo @oldjws @kyrjnie @heartswonn @aeminju @en-dream @yeahsspider

tags . @flwoie @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @haknom @redm4ri @hanniluvi @haechansbbg @taejaysreads @shinunoga-iie-wa @teddywonss

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jinkicake · 1 year

Text

After A Long Night...

He returns home to you.

Diluc, Kaeya, Ayato, Xiao x Reader

A/N: I originally wrote this for my beloved Kaeya and then i did the same for Xiao and then Diluc and surprise, Ayato. Anyway,,,, i need fluff and all things sweet. forgive me! this might be my fav fluff... i think im getting better at it!

WC - 2.2k

~~~

Diluc R.

When it comes to his everyday life, Diluc doesn’t regret it very much. The young tycoon owner knows exactly what role he has to play and what needs to get done.

Despite his strong resolve and fortitude, it still physically pains his sensitive heart to be away from you.

Diluc knows how lucky he is to have you, he’s aware of the fact all too well. He cherishes you and loves you day in and day out, spoiling you rotten in the hopes that his actions will convey his own intimate feelings for you. Somedays he worries that his double life will be too much for your kind soul to handle.

If you were to disappear from his life, the winery owner fears he would never see light in his own dark world again.

He tries his best to return from his nightly missions at a reasonable time, just when the moon is descending from its peak position. There is nothing more Diluc looks forward to than you asleep in his bed. Knowing that he gets to hold you in his arms and rest is what gets the man through each day.

Although he can’t stand the teasing from his brother, Diluc is a sap for you and everyone knows it. He’s not ashamed of it.

His love for you is what carries him quietly through the house once he locks the main doors of the large home. Diluc checks to make sure all doors and windows are locked before quietly taking off his external accessories, hanging them by the door to his office, and then finally making his way to your shared bedroom.

At the sight of you asleep in his bed, messily splayed out (because you can never get comfortable without him), Diluc sighs. He tugs at the loose ponytail holding his hair up and lets his fiery strands run freely against his back. Most nights, he would brush his hair and maybe apply some oil to the ends but all Diluc can focus on now is you.

He happily sneaks under the covers and carefully presses his body into yours. The way you melt into his embrace is almost instant. Diluc softly kisses your temple before moving his arm to wrap around your waist. Gently, he squeezes you in his hold and runs his nose along your jaw.

“My love,” He can’t help but murmur against your skin, sometimes it becomes too hard to fight the hold you have over him. However, the moment you begin to stir, Diluc freezes. There’s nothing he hates more than waking you up, knowing how highly you value your sleep. It’s as if an internal alarm is ringing in his mind and Diluc all but holds his breath as your fingers tighten against his hold.

“Diluc?” Your sleepy tone melts into a whine as you shift and turn on your side to press your face into his chest. “When did you get back?”

The large man couldn’t pretend to be asleep even if he tried.

Diluc kisses your temple again.

“Not too long ago,” His comforting voice, deep and kind nearly lulls you back to sleep. It’s hard fighting fatigue when you’re in his arms. “go back to bed.” When you look up at him and Diluc sees the pout on your face, he doesn’t hesitate to kiss it off.

“We can talk in the morning, dearest. I promise.”

Kaeya A.

Most nights, Kaeya prefers a drink. He often works late and into the evening so one of the only things that provide him with a sense of pleasure is the tart fruity taste of wine on his tongue.

Every night before he sets out in search of a bar, he finds his way back home to you. Regardless of his alcoholic desires, there’s something special about sharing extra time with you in the evening. Sometimes, the captain finds himself skipping the drinks and staying inside to enjoy your loving embrace.

Tonight is no different than his other nights. Kaeya is caught up in work, having to check through documents and give them a seal of approval, and he finishes his tasks late. It’s nearly so late that the bars are almost closed and the moon is high up in the night sky.

For once, closed bars are not a concern to Kaeya because when he is most exhausted he always searches for you. He always returns to you.

“Oh, my love,” Kaeya’s quiet coo does not reach your ears from where he stands in the doorway to your apartment. The cavalry captain is extremely careful as he maneuvers the space and makes sure to be extremely quiet as he shuts and locks the door. He slips off his shoes and places his keys on a hook against the wall before making his way over to you.

Kaeya loves to watch you sleep. You’re completely angelic and the sight always makes him feel as if he has been punched in the gut, he’s absolutely winded by your beauty every single time. He can’t help but reach out and brush his cold knuckles against your soft cheek.

In the morning, he’ll have to chide you for falling asleep at the table but he knows this wouldn’t have happened if he came home earlier. It’s more his fault than it is yours, he can never find a flaw in you. In his eyes, you can do no wrong.

Keeping his touch light and soft, Kaeya cups your shoulders before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. His lips turn incredibly warm at the feeling of your skin and Kaeya attempts to fight off the flush he is feeling. You aren’t even awake and you’re still making the man flustered.

When you lightly begin to stir in your sleep, Kaeya only places more kisses along your face. He pecks your cheek and then your nose before gracing your forehead again.

“Hello, angel,” He whispers against your temple before leaving his lips glued to the spot. You grumble at him, just as he expected, before trying to rub the sleep from your eyes.

“Kaeya,” Your quiet whisper makes his heart skip a beat and any fatigue he was feeling earlier in the night is nearly washed away by your voice. The way your eyes flicker over his features, darting from his eye to his lips makes the captain burn up inside. You’ve always been so shy with him. “how was work?”

“Dull, boring, slow.” He answers as he gently tugs on your wrist, pulling you up from your chair. There is no fight in you as Kaeya leads you toward your bedroom. “However, I did hear new speculations about Donna’s love life. Lisa spoils me whenever I drop off a book on time, would you like to hear about it?”

By the knowing smile on your face, as you fall into bed with Kaeya in hot pursuit, it’s going to be another evening where you both talk through the night.

K. Ayato

Ayato hates being away from you. He detests impending work and having to be locked away in his office for days on end, running on little sleep, just to see that deadlines are met. The thought of you alone in your shared room with your lone futon spread on the floor makes his heart ache.

For the last couple of days, Ayato has been in a time crunch. He has to get some official documents between two clans under wraps before their political marriage or the entire relationship will be in shambles. The task itself is not hard but, it is incredibly tedious.

When all Ayato wants to do is spend some time with his beloved, small pesky tasks become the bane of his existence.

“Would you like some tea, my lord?” Thoma’s gentle knock on the sliding door reminds Ayato to stay focused, that he still has work to finish.

“There is no need for that, Thoma. I’m almost finished up, please get some rest.”

As Thoma excuses himself for the evening, the head of the Kamisato clan smiles knowing that he can continue working at night knowing he has such formidable people beside him. Ayato thumbs through the documents again and mulls over the agreements two more times. He ensures that each of the bargains balances out the other before stacking the papers in a neat pile.

One more time, he will go over each and make sure that they’re in proper order and format.

When the mind-numbing task is complete, Ayato places the documents in the bin on his desk for it to be carried out in the morning. He stands tall from his low workstation and stretches until a satisfying pop reaches his ears.

It’s now early in the morning with the sun sure to rise in just another few hours. Ayato wastes no time in making a quick trip to your bedroom. He is silent in his steps as he presses against the hardwood of the floors and slides open your door.

He could almost sigh at the sight of you curled up and deep in sleep. Ayato makes quick work of closing the door and then kneels beside you, he lifts your hands up to his face so that he can kiss the inside of your wrist. In his own way, it’s like a silent apology for making you spend the last few nights alone.

Ayato doesn’t even bother himself with getting into his own futon, neatly made and laid out since earlier in the night. He settles in right beside you and squeezes into the tight space. With his long arms, he wraps them around your torso before tracing your hip.

Kiss after kiss, he places soft pecks of his lips underneath your ear. He doesn’t mean to wake you and he certainly doesn’t want to but, he just can’t keep his hands off of you.

Luckily for him, you are a heavy sleeper.

Fatigue finds the commissioner easily and he shuts his eyes to try and catch a break from the feeling. In your touch, Ayato finds himself at ease. Relaxation is of second nature to him and it is all because of you.

“Thank you, darling,” He sweetly kisses your ear before melting into the sheets, slumber is sure to find him just as it had found you.

Xiao

Xiao doesn’t often feel fatigued. There are some nights when he almost wishes something new would happen in his monotonous battle of protecting Liyue but, he doesn’t get tired of it.

Well, in the past, Xiao did not get burned out so easily.

The adeptus thinks you’re partly to blame if he could ever find a fault in your character. You’ve got him in some sort of routine.

In the past, Xiao would stay out until the sun came up patrolling one area before moving on to another. It was a cycle that he would consistently keep up with day in and day out.

The schedule he has now is a little different. Instead of clashing with hostile creatures throughout the night, he finds himself before your door once the moon peaks past the highest point in the starry sky. Xiao is still adamant about protecting Liyue but, he also prides himself on making you happy too.

He doesn’t understand why his heart tugs in his chest at a certain point during the night every single day. It’s a tug that demands him to return home, to find his spot in your bed and hold you in his arms until you stir awake and kiss his fingers.

Xiao melts whenever you pamper him, it makes him feel less alone.

Like most nights since your entry into his life, tonight is not so different. Xiao finishes his duties once the moon reaches high into the sky and when his heart starts to become impatient, he finds himself outside of your window with simple teleportation.

The adeptus tries to remember that he has a key and walks around to your door to quietly unlock your apartment. He places his staff beside your coat rack and takes off his shoes, dropping his mask on the nearby table, after he locks the door and ensures that it is shut. Your apartment is small and cozy and Xiao focused his eyes on you as soon as he walks into your bedroom.

It’s not a surprise that you’re asleep, but Xiao softly gasps when he reaches the foot of your bed. Whenever he is in your presence the eternal ache that he feels starts to dull. The sharp pain in the ends of his fingertips and the tips of his ears become numb. For a mortal, Xiao considers you to be quite special.

He doesn’t say anything as he softly gets into your bed and gently lifts up the covers to get beside you. The adeptus can’t help himself from touching you as soon as you are within his reach. Almost immediately, Xiao wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest. He remains quiet as he buries his face into your neck but, his heart leaps at the feeling of your stirring awake.

The man hates to wake you, he truly does, but the feeling of your hand reaching for his own is something Xiao will never get tired of.

“Welcome home,” Your sleepy tone and sweet whisper keep him grounded and alive each day. The way you kiss his knuckles soothes all the aches the adeptus has ever felt. “I missed you.”

#diluc ragnvindr x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #Kamisato Ayato x reader #xiao x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #ayato x reader #xiao x you #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #diluc fluff #kaeya fluff #Ayato fluff #xiao fluff

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erikatsu · 1 year

Note

slutty old man welt 🧐 😋 monch 😋

tw: fem!reader. [n]sfw. age gap (cuz welt's like 80 lmao). mention of masturbation (m). oral (m!receiving). reader refers to welt as "mr. yang". pussy job (sorta). clothed sex. creampie. a bit rushed but oh well. maybe a bit ooc but i tried my best :,)

note: i went from idc for welt to okay im simping for welt LMAO. i love slutty old guys sue me. also lala im so sorry, i got carried away

welt yang often thought himself to be an ethical man. he'd been taught responsibility from a young age, always tried to do the right thing. at least he did until he met you. you'd caught his eye, but he knew better than to get involved with someone so young. however, the more he got to know you, the more he couldn't help himself.

it started out as looking at you for a little too long, knowing that he shouldn't. it's wrong the way his eyes linger as he watches you walk away, and you don't even realize you have his complete and undivided attention with your back turned to him. he knew that it wasn't okay, that he was old enough to be your grandfather even if physically he looked old enough to be your dad.

he didn't know when the lines began to blur– his inappropriate attraction to you turning into something much more than that– and he didn't know if it would ever go away. then again, welt wasn't even sure that he wanted it to. there was no harm in having a crush, especially if he didn't act on it. but, that was just wishful thinking– something he told him himself to rationalize his thoughts and feelings.

unfortunately for him, it got worse as time went on and those thoughts he tried to keep at bay were crossing his mind more often. and eventually, he stopped trying to hold them back all together. he stopped feeling guilty for thinking them too. so long as he wasn't trying to pursue you, he could maintain his integrity. even if at times he had to leave the room due to this. it's not as if it were entirely his fault. after all, welt had the power of his imagination.

every time you paraded around in shorts, he couldn't help but try to picture what you had on underneath them– was it lace, or silk, or perhaps nothing at all? he couldn't help himself when he'd see you had a sucker in your mouth, imagining what it would be like if it was your tongue swirling around the tip of his cock instead. that imagination always led him to where he is right now, sitting at his desk in his room with his head tilted back as he fisted his cock to the thought of you.

it wasn't an uncommon occurrence for him. although, you walking in on him just as your name almost fell from his lips was. a gasp fell from your mouth, one that would sound even prettier if he was the reason behind it, and he tried to react quick enough so you couldn't see what he was doing. but, it was too late.

you could see the embarrassment painting his cheeks a bright pink, and instead of turning around like you should have, you stayed. it surprised him when you asked, "mr. yang... do you need some help?"

of all the scenarios he imagined, this certainly was not one of them.

he cleared his throat, about to shake his head. not that he didn't want it, because he did. he did and the thought of it becoming a reality had him throbbing. but what kind of man would he be if he took advantage of your kindness? if he crossed that fine line? words, however, seemed to fail him when he went to speak.

its not as if you were being kind. you had also taken an interest in him– maybe not to the extent he did– and the curiosity and excitement were definitely there. you weren't quite sure what exactly it was about him, but he'd drawn you in without even trying. and the way he hesitated to answer told you what you already knew. he was interested, but he had his morals.

it wasn't until you approached and knelt in front of him that he let them all fly out the window. your hand replaced his, gentle yet firm. he let out a shaky breath, eyes closing before you took him in your mouth. he couldn't help the noise that escaped him, one of the scenarios he imagined finally playing out in real life.

it was ten times better than what went through his head.

he could tell you were enjoying how much of a mess he became so easily– purposely taking your time going down before coming up and teasingly snaking your tongue along his pink tip. you couldn't help but wonder just how long it had been since the last time a woman had touched him like this, seeing how he was already so close to the edge. possibly years, you figured as your free hand came up to cup his balls, giving them a light squeeze. perhaps even longer, you concluded upon hearing the groan that escaped him.

you pulled away, leaving your hand where it was, still toying with him as you looked up at him, "mr. yang, just how long has it been since someone properly took care of you?"

too long, he wanted to say. but his mind was overran by all the sensations he was feeling due to you. luckily, you were sharp and your assumptions were correct. you hummed to yourself before standing, his eyes flying open once your touch was gone. imagine his surprise when he saw you sliding out of those cotton shorts you always loved to wear.

he couldn't believe how one person left him utterly speechless, unable to process what was about to happen as you sat in his lap. he watched as your eyes left his, briefly glancing down to his lips. almost as if you were hesitant to make another move. although he couldn't muster the courage to speak, he could certainly pull you closer and press his lips against yours with ease.

his hands flew down to your hips, rocking you against his length. you whimpered against his mouth, already aching for him. you definitely didn't need the warm up– his reactions alone were enough to get you going– yet you allowed yourself to enjoy it for the moment. the two of you crossed a line there was no coming back from, and the possibility of this being the only time had the both of you engrossed in the other. trying to memorize the way you two fit together as if you were puzzle pieces.

the thought of this being the only time flipped some kind of switch in his mind, his hands moving to your thighs before standing up and taking you with him. he took just a couple of steps before lying you down on his bed, eagerly slipping out of his before hovering over top of you. his eyes searched yours for any sign of apprehension or nervousness. but he found none. a simple nod of your head was all it took to have him pushing one of your legs back and lining himself up with your entrance.

as he sank into you, he once again caught you by the mouth. you whined as he slowly stretched you out, trying to keep quiet so you didn't catch the unwanted attention of the others. the express had thin walls, and everyone throughout the hall would hear you if they were in their rooms.

"let it out," he muttered, rolling his hips with a slow steady rhythm, allowing you to adjust to him. "dont get shy now."

it didn't seem to be an option, using that moment to fully bottom out inside you. your back arched and a choked noise left your mouth. he did this a few times– keeping his thrusts short yet deep– picking up his pace until your whines and whimpers turned into moans. you could feel your toes curl as the tip of his cock lightly kissed that sweet spot, finally crying out, "mr. yang. r-right there."

he thought the two of you were now well past formalities, but he couldn't help but groan that escaped him at your use of "mr. yang". it had him rutting quicker, and with a bit more force. you were panting, clinging to him while squeezed your eyes shut. his hips were moving at an alarming rate as you dug your fingers into his skin, clenching around him as you cried out. a knot quickly built up in your stomach, releasing just as quickly as it came.

cursed left his mouth as you tightened around him, excited moans leaving you and a euphoric sensation sweeping over your body leaving you a shaking mess underneath him. he hadn't even heard his warning that he was going to cum too, but you didn't seem phased when he pushed into you with one final thrust.

you tried to catch your breath, staring up at him through your lashes. he was still hard, cock twitching inside you as he also tried to cool down. you briefly bit down on your lip, unable to stop yourself from asking, "are you up for another round, mr. yang?"

TAGS: @dottores @dxlucs @mxnjiros @suyacho

#honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #welt x reader #welt yang x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you

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moonchildstyles · 6 months

Text

oleander

oleander part one: nothing could draw y/n in the way harry could

wordcount: 11.7k+

cw: this leans into some darker themes including a description of a dead body, mentions of a parent who has passed away, some panic attack descriptions, and just in general some doom and gloom vibes! but I promise this is a love story im just doing something diferent!

—————

(Y/N)'s eyes followed the immaculately dressed figure floating through the shop. Barred from getting closer with the counter in front of her, she could only watch as he made his way through the small apothecary. He never glanced in her direction, though she doubted he was unaware of her eyes on him.

Dried herbs hung around his head like a dreary halo, the muted tones falling in line with the rich brown of his hair. He was tall enough that he just barely grazed the line of lavender sprigs strung up and dehydrating above his head. His coat was of a deep green velvet, tailored to show off the broad of his shoulders and strength of his arms. The matching cravat around his neck stood out starkly against the white shirt under his grey waistcoat, his skin appearing almost as pale as the starchy collar standing stiff against his throat. She wished that he would turn around for just a second; she wanted to see his eyes. Were they really as dark as she remembered, or had the town's gossip altered her memory?

As if hearing her thoughts, he quickly picked his head up and made to turn and match her gaze. She urgently dropped her eyes to her hands, pretending as if she had been preoccupied the whole time by the bundles of sage she was meant to be tying. Now her wishes turned to that of hoping he didn't catch her staring. She was sure he got enough of that as is when he bothered to venture down to their small village; he didn't need any more when he was simply trying to shop.

Forcing herself to keep her eyes down, (Y/N) tried to forget the Count's presence (was he even a Count? She wasn't sure, but that was what she had heard the women at church calling him, and no one seemed to object). She hoped he couldn't hear the sound of her heart as easily as she could, the beats pounding through her ears just from the fact she knew he was traipsing around her father's shop. Casting her gaze out the small window situated by the collection counter, she tried to see past the thick fog that had gathered that morning and done little to dissipate through the hours. If not for the fact she had lived here all her life, she would have had problems navigating through the mist. She wondered how someone like the Count fared under these conditions. He barely left that castle of his, how did he or his footmen know where they were going this time of year?

Granting herself a single peek in his direction, she saw he had gone back to shopping. He moved so silently, she wondered how he was able to cross the apothecary so vastly without a single footstep being heard. She watched as he brought bundles of herbs to his nose, taking in the heady scent. He always did this, she noticed. He always looked around until he found the strongest smelling bundles.

Truthfully, to (Y/N), all the bundles smelled the same. She couldn't notice if one sprig of lavender smelled richer than another, but maybe he knew something she didn't. It wouldn't surprise her if he spent his young years studying herbs and reading books about all of the healing plants, or whatever it was that young gentlemen did in their formative years.

Though it was a hard task to pull her eyes away from him, (Y/N) made the effort to do so. Her father really would be upset if she didn't tie up all these bundles before sundown; he barely liked her working at the apothecary as is, he didn't need any other reason to boot her from the counter.

With her eyes trained on her fingers and the clumsy bows she was tying out of twine, (Y/N) practically jumped out of her skin when she caught movement from the corner of her eye. Pale hands dropped bundles of herbs on the counter, just barely in her line of sight. Her breathing stuck in her throat when she whipped her head up, finding the Count looking at her with his dark eyes.

She hadn't misremembered, it appeared. His eyes really were almost black, just barely tinted a forest green on the edges—if the forest in question was being spotted in the pitch of night, only a sliver of the moon and stars above allowing any distinction.

Her heart jumped in her throat, running faster than it had any reason to when their eyes met. She forced herself to swallow it down.

"I'm sorry, sir," she muttered, unable to pull her gaze away from his even if she instinctively wanted to look anywhere else. "Did you find all you were looking for?"

"I did, yes." His voice was a lulling rumble, rounded and heady as if the goal was to lure her nearer. If not for the table separating them, she would have fallen for it.

Offering a quiet smile, she gave him a polite nod.

No other words were exchange, as per usual for his visits. The Count wasn't much for conversation and idle chatter like the rest of the village. Instead, she could feel him watching her as she counted up his herbs and the price of each bundle.

He was buying the same ones he always did: winter savory (he switched to chamomile when out of season), tobacco, and lavender.

The buds together created a confusing scent, adding to the mishmash of what the apothecary already was. She couldn't imagine how he would put these three together in any space of that castle, the mixture too aggressive.

Though she tried her best to concentrate on only the herbs, (Y/N) was too aware of the static of his presence. She wondered what he thought when he came down to the village, what he thought when he interacted with people like her. He was always so stoic. He never gave anything away, though that didn't stop the village gossip from running wild about him.

Swallowing around her dry throat, heartbeat bubbling against her ribs, she matched his gaze. The pricing for his bounty came out on buzzing lips, "Sixteen shillings please, sir."

He didn't bat an eyelash at the price despite it being the biggest single purchase her father's apothecary would see until the next time he ventured down. Instead, he looked at her with his dark eyes and a tic in his jaw. He was unbearably handsome, made of cut edges and smooth planes, but he always looked at her as if he were angry and working to bury it down. She could never figure out why or what exactly made his nostrils flare or his jaw tight when he spoke to her, but she hoped she wasn't the only one he reacted to like this.

His hands moved quickly, pulling out a small pouch of tinkling coins before he plucked out the exact amount for her. For a moment, she could see bank notes tucked inside the pouch as well. While she wasn't surprised that someone like him would have that kind of wealth, she had never seen it before with her own eyes.

Passing off the change to her, his pale fingers grazed her open palm. Goosebumps immediately raised across her skin, his touch feeling as if he had been standing in the dawn's dew for hours, allowing the chill to cling to his skin and leach away all hope for warmth. The graze was quick, barely a heartbeat long, but she swore she could feel the lingering touch for moments after. Maybe he really did have a hard time navigating the village when the fog was this thick, having traveled in winding routes and wrong turns for so long he still hadn't been able to heat up even after spending time in the shop.

Flicking her gaze up to his on instinct, she saw he was looking at the swatches of skin exposed from her dress, eyeing the goosebumps he had plucked up on accident.

(Y/N) cleared her throat, nothing more than a reminder to herself to keep professional and not to gawk at the man. She placed the change in the small cup underneath the collection counter before reaching for his herbs of choice. A length of twine was used to tie up his product, ensuring he didn't lose anything on his way back home.

"Thank you," he muttered once she passed them back, their skin no longer grazing this time.

"Have a pleasant journey back home," she chirped, her voice decidedly pleasant against the bubbling she was feeling inside, "Stay warm."

The Count didn't give any kind of reaction to her before he was leaving the shop in a flourish. Taking advantage of the window at her disposal, she watched as he ventured out into the fog. The mist mingled around him, making him appear as if he were a ghost—one with the Earth-bound clouds. She was only vaguely aware of the way her body heat ticked up some now that he had left.

Though she could hear the sound of footsteps descending the stairs that led up to their home a floor above, (Y/N)'s head was outside the shop and away from her father. She didn't turn even when she could tell he had made it to the landing. He was used to it by now, she knew. Her head was always miles away as far as he was concerned—thinking too big for the village with daydreams that were only going to hurt her in the long run.

The air around her shifted, telling her that her father was just behind her, likely watching to see what had caught her attention this time.

"Is that Harry?" he grumbled, spitting out the name while dismissing the faux-title since they were alone.

Her father didn't much like the Count—Harry, as he bitterly spat out. (Y/N) was never sure what precisely had set off her father's distaste for the man, just knowing that he thought Harry to be something of a boogeyman against the village. He didn't even go to church, her father regularly complained. What kind of man was he if he couldn't even bother to trudge down from his palace to spend some time with God, even if it was in the presence of commoners?

(Y/N) never really minded. Though she'd never tell her father, church was boring. She couldn't blame Harry—the Count, whatever she was supposed to call him—for skipping out. Especially with the peeks at the castle she could garner if she trekked through the woods far enough. She wouldn't want to leave that place for anything.

Nonetheless, (Y/N) answered with a soft, "Yes." Her eyes were still locked on the form of him she could barely make out through the mist.

A grunt of disapproval left her father's lips. She didn't have to look at him to know that he had his arms crossed over his chest. "Are you okay?"

It was when he settled a hand on her shoulder that she snapped out of her staring.

"Yes, I'm well," she answered as placidly as possible when she turned to face him. She didn't want to show just how affected she was by the Count. Her father would do more than just grunt and disapprove if he knew just how drawn to the man as she was.

He peered through the window, his eyes surely finding the one dark figure filtering through the fog. His brows slanted into harsh slashes over his eyes. "From now on, I want you to find me when he comes in, and I will take over. I do not want him talking with you."

Her fingertips buzzed at the new instructions, matching the kickstart to her heartbeats. As much as she heard her father's concerns, and had listened in to all the of the stories and webs spun about this man, those did little to deter her interest in Harry or quell the bubbling in her chest every time she saw him step inside the apothecary.

"I can handle him, father," she countered, trying to sound as uninterested as possible while attempting to hold her ground, "We barely talk when he comes in, anyway."

The creases between his brows only deepened when he matched her gaze. "I do not want you becoming one of his victims, (Y/N)."

Her lips thinned at his words. "All of those stories are rubbish, father, you know that," she pressed, her words lighthearted despite the argument she was wagering by not immediately giving in, "Since when have we started listening to what Mary and Ethel have to say?"

He didn't break any, even when she knew she was making a valid point to him. Gossip was prohibited according to the Bible, and yet he was citing stories she had heard the worst of gossipers weave?

There was no real reason for anyone to believe that Harry had anything to do with what had been going on just outside of the village, he was just easy to pin it on seeing as no one really knew him. She doubted any of them—including Ethel and Mary—could actually believe that he was the one behind the bodies that had been found in the woods, and the disappearances that had been added to the murder count.

From what she'd heard, all signs pointed to animal attacks—wolves, or bears, or anything viscous. Though her stomach curdled at the thought, she couldn't see the Count being the one to rip out commoner's throats, to leave them crumpled in the brush with blood sinking into the earth. All of it was gossip and evil rumors that had not even a shred of truth inside.

"Still," her father stated, countering her argument, "There's something wrong with him, (Y/N)."

Wrong was very far from threatening as far as she was concerned, especially when it came to Harry. Though, this most likely wasn't the time to share that opinion. She would keep her thoughts about him to herself, her own small secret against the rest of the village.

Harry didn't scare her like he did the rest of them, but they didn't need to know that.

"Okay," she relented with a quiet nod, turning back to the collection cup so she could pass off the earnings to her father. "I will come grab you next time."

(Y/N) wasn't sure if it was the additional shillings added to the cup or her pleasant agreement that had her father's features relaxing with a small smile on his lips, but she wasn't going to object.

Besides, she wasn't going to actually follow through on her promise. Harry was her favorite customer, even if she wouldn't admit it out loud. Her father would have to try harder to steer her clear of Harry.

—————

(Y/N) struggled with the strap of her shopping baskets, one hanging from her shoulder over her back with another dangling from her hand. They were stocked full and heavy, filled with everything her father requested that morning before she was sent off. She hadn't even realized how late she was running with her errands, how many items she had picked up and how heavy her bags were becoming until the sun had already gone down and her shoulder ached with the amount she had packed in.

With the season's change, the sky was almost pitch by the time she made it to the edge of the village, the air chilled and crisp. Her father was going to have her head for making it back so late, but what could he have expected, really? He was the one that wrote the list, knowing half of the items were only available in the neighboring village.

She hummed as she followed the path, giving herself some company and filling the silence. She hated being out this late—the dark scared her more than it probably should at her age.

Her steps slowed as the bag hanging from her shoulder once again began to shift. No matter how hard she tried, it wouldn't stay put. She attempted to adjust the strap once more as she cautiously stepped over the path.

With her attention placed elsewhere, she didn't notice the man in her way until she bumped directly into him.

Her heart started in her chest, rattling against her ribs. She jumped back, whipping her head up with wide eyes. Before her stood the familiar dark-haired figure she had seen just a week prior, pursuing through the apothecary.

Harry's cut features were pinched with a furrowed brow, his dark eyes trained on her. He was pale like a ghost compared to his dark clothing that blended in with the rest of the night. He reached out to steady her, baskets and all, when she tottered on the low heel of her boot.

His touch singed her like snowflakes as he grasped at her bare arms.

"H-Harry," she gasped, his name falling from her lips before she had a chance to collect her bearings. Her skin warmed when her brain caught up with herself; she'd never called him by his name before—or called to him at all now that she thought about it. "I am so s-sorry."

What exactly she was apologizing for—using his name so brashly or running right into him—she wasn't sure, but she could cover for both, she figured.

"It is alright," he murmured to her, his hands lingering on her biceps, "I didn't mean to frighten you. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, thank you," she asserted, "I wasn't looking where I was going. It has been a long day."

Tipping his head, as if her word wasn't enough, Harry looked her over before dropping his hands from her arms and taking a calculated step back.

"I'm sure it was," he said to her, his voice still a low whisper, "Is what why you are out so late?"

(Y/N) eased into the conversation, despite knowing it was more than a little inappropriate to be alone with a man this late into the evening. She was flattered the Count wanted to speak to her at all, honestly. He always seemed so eager to flee from the apothecary and the rest of the village during his visits. In her dreamland, she liked to think that he actually enjoyed seeing her, this run-in being his opportunity to speak to her without all of the prying eyes trained on him.

"Yes," she sighed, shifting the small basket on her aching wrist to the other, "I had to do the shopping today, and my father always requests things he knows I have to search all over for, so I've been busy since I woke up."

Harry hummed at her words, his dark eyes seemingly lighting up with amusement at her trivial complaint. He eyed the heavy bags she was carrying before he met her eyes once more. "Would it be alright if I accompany you back home? It's too dark for a lady like yourself to be walking alone."

Biting back a smile, (Y/N) felt her blood warm under her skin. Someone of his status would know a lady when he looked at one, and (Y/N) definitely wasn't. He had to be teasing her.

"I'm no lady," she explained, though she didn't sound that convincing under her smile, "But, I think I would really enjoy some company. Thank you."

(Y/N) was well aware of what it would look like to be walked home by Harry at this time of night, alone on the path and unchaperoned. It would have been bad enough with any man, but seeing as this was the Count, she could only imagine the kinds of rumors Mary and Ethel would spin. The fluttering in her heart urged her to ignore those worries, though; Harry most likely knew better about societal standards than she, given their stations, and he had enough rumors swirling about him that he wouldn't want to add to if he could help it. If he wasn't worried, then she wouldn't either.

"Lead the way," he said, smiling at her with dazzlingly perfect teeth.

"Its not too far," she started, peering down the path to see the late night tavern still boiling with people and the small homes that decorated the mouth to the village. "It's just down that way," she told him, nodding her head in the direction they were to take.

Before she went too far, she adjusted her grocery-laden baskets once more, barely holding back a wince at the weight on her shoulder.

Harry still seemingly noticed even if she had tried to be discreet. He didn't immediately follow her steps back home. "Let me carry those for you. They can't be too comfortable after such a long day."

While she was sure it was good form to decline his offer, feign strength she didn't have and continue on without complaint, she wasn't going to pass up on the offer to relieve the stress on her shoulder.

"I would really appreciate that, actually," she sighed, shifting the basket off her shoulder in a haste, "Thank you."

"No need to thank me," he answered simply, a pleasant lightness to his features as he took the strap from her hands. He slung it over his own shoulder with an ease (Y/N) could only dream to have. He didn't stop there, taking the smaller one from her wrist as well.

She was free to roll her joints and feel circulation return to all limbs, more than gracious for her impromptu partner for the night.

"You said it was this way, yes?" he prompted, starting down the path towards the edge of town where both the apothecary was as well as the flat above it where she and her father resided.

"That way," (Y/N) affirmed with a smile, falling into step beside him as they started off through town.

A careful silence fell between them, full of opportunities that twinkled like stars. This was her chance to know him, bask in his presence, learn who she had only gazed at from afar. Though every time she looked at him from the corner of her eye, she felt her throat dry. He was even more gorgeous under moonlight.

"You know," he started first, unbraiding the silence, "I don't think I've ever seen you come out from behind that counter. I was starting to think you never left; like you were some kind of spirit attached with manning an apothecary at all hours."

A bubbling peal of laughter felt from (Y/N)'s lips, her hands a fumbling bundle at her waist. "It feels that way, sometimes," she smiled, "But I promise I do have more hobbies than only drying herbs and counting coin."

"And what might those be?" the Count pressed, looking down at her. In the low light, (Y/N) expected his eyes to look impossibly dark, more like coal than even in the daylight, but she found that ring of green to show more prominently now under the moon.

"Um," she floundered, tearing her eyes away from his when she felt goosebumps raise over her skin and her heart bounce against her lungs, "I-I like to tend to our garden—for the shop."

"I didn't know grow everything yourself. That must keep you rather busy."

(Y/N) shrugged, "It can, depending on the season. But, I've figured it out through the years, and made it easier on me."

"You grow everything for your shop, then?" Coming up to a fork in the path, Harry paused, waiting for (Y/N) to take the first step in the right direction before he followed.

"Most of it," she mused, an immediate list of their inventory coming to mind, "There's still a few things that I have to scavenge for, but I've become rather good at that as well."

"I don't doubt that," Harry smiled, the curl audible in his voice, "Was it your idea then to start the shop? Fill it with all the things you could grow?"

"Oh, no," she declined, a furrow appearing in her brow, "My father and mother started the apothecary when my sister and I were still babies."

"I don't think I've met your sister or mother," Harry shared, casting his gaze towards her once more, refractions of green shimmering in his irises.

While (Y/N) dreaded the subject, she couldn't exactly complain since she had been the one to bring them both up. Truthfully, it wasn't hard to talk about any more, it was harder to field the reactions of those around her when she shared the story. It was never easy to quell retroactive grief.

"My sister married and moved to the country almost two years ago," she started easy, keeping her gaze forward, "My mother passed away when I was a child."

When the Count didn't immediately answer, (Y/N) peeked up to find him looking at her differently than before. She didn't find pity swimming through his eyes, only sympathy. He looked at her like he knew her pain.

"It is a hard thing, losing family," he murmured, shifting his gaze towards the sky, "But, it can only grow easier as time goes on."

Tracing her eyes over his profile, through the immaculate stone-like chisel of his features and unblemished skin, she swore she could spot the same fine lines by his eyes and slight crease between his brows that she and her sister had sustained since their mother passed.

She swallowed, hoping her next line of questioning didn't breach too far. "Have you lost family before?"

"I have," he smiled, though it didn't completely reach those fine lines by his eyes, "It was a long time ago. It's funny how after a while, you can forget what it was like before."

Though (Y/N) loved her mother dearly and cherished those memories she had with her, she had been without her for longer than she had been with her. She knew what Harry was talking about, exactly. Missing her mother was just a part of her now, and it wasn't anything she tired to push away or get over. She grew around the grief and held onto her mother in that space.

"Exactly," she agreed, relieved to not be trying to quell someone else's grief and pity for her, "I've remembered her for longer than I actually knew her, but it does not upset me any more."

"Good," Harry cemented, "She wouldn't want you to be bothered by her memory."

Looking ahead, the town square was approaching with the town's tavern still full despite the late hour. That was the one place that could be bustling at any time of night, any day of the week. (Y/N) hoped no one would peer through the windows and catch her late night stroll.

"I apologize for speaking so morbidly," (Y/N) laughed, though she didn't exactly feel guilty to be learning that much more about Harry, "Since you know more about me, I would like to know more about you."

"I'm sure we could arrange that," he smiled that dazzling smile, "What would you like to know?"

"I don't think I've ever seen you out in the village before, except for when you do your shopping," (Y/N) mused, hoping to learn a little bit more about what he did up in that castle of his.

She watched as he shrugged, still completely unbothered by the weight of her shopping. "I come out every once in a while," he prattled, "But I suppose we never have run into each other until now. What a shame."

Her blood warmed at his final comment. He really must be teasing her, trying to pull those shy reactions from her.

Before she had a chance to say much in response, the rowdy tavern only a few meters ahead burst open with sloppy patrons spilling onto the street. The men were undoubtedly drunk as was apparent in the slurring of their shouts and the stumbling of their feet. Everything was too loud for the quiet of the night, including the calls coming from inside the bar, urging the few that had escaped to come back inside. The night couldn't already be over, it was still early, those beckoning voices said.

Maybe it was the dark of the night, the fact she had never been around anyone drunk enough to slur their words, or the stark sound of it all, but (Y/N) startled at the disturbance. She almost jumped out of her skin, her feet stumbling with her heels digging into the crumbling sidewalk. She could hear a gasp falling from her throat though she couldn't remember making the noise herself.

Before she had time to recover, Harry had swiftly tugged her to his other side. She was now covered by his body with her other side sandwiched with the walls of the other buildings lining the street. From where the drunken men stood, she doubted they would be able to accurately spot her given her new cover.

"Thank you," she murmured, her thrumming heart beginning to slow finally.

When he didn't respond, she looked up to find him shooting daggers towards the men that were being pulled back into the tavern. His sharp jaw was clenched shut with his eyes narrowed in their direction.

"Harry?" she sounded, breaking him from whatever he had running through his head.

He whipped his head to face her once more, blinking with a flutter of curling lashes.

"Yes, sorry," he finally responded, "My apologies, I would have pulled you away sooner had I seen them coming."

"It's alright," she tried to soothe, giving him a small smile, "The shop is just up there, I think I can survive a little while longer."

He cast his gaze over her form for just a beat longer, his shoulder relaxing some by the time he met her eyes again. "I'll make sure of it," Harry teased, cracking a smile at her.

They shared those final paces in silence, (Y/N) feeling rather proud of herself and a bit giddy to have had him at her side for this long, his attention on her. By the time the dark apothecary topped with the small flat came into view, she almost wished they would round the block once more. She still had more she wanted to ask him.

"It has been a pleasure, Ms. (Y/N)," he bowed to her, carefully pulling her shopping baskets from his shoulder and wrist, "I hope I will see you again soon—maybe we'll run into each other like this more often."

"Maybe," she smiled, taking the bags from him, "Thank you for escorting me home, and helping with my baskets."

"It's my pleasure," he repeated once more, the green in his eyes flashing with amusement, "Have a good night."

Inching towards the door, (Y/N) gave him a nod. "Good night, Harry."

A soft lipped smile on his marble-perfect face was the last thing (Y/N) saw before she was stepping inside the apothecary. The bell above the door tinkled, alerting her father who would no doubt still be awake upstairs.

"(Y/N)? Is that you?" he called down the stairs, the creak of his favorite rocking chair sounding as he stood.

"Yes, sorry!" she answered, bracing herself to trek up the steep stairs to the flat with her body weighed down with all of the groceries. "I didn't mean to take so long."

"I don't like you staying out so late after the sun goes down," her father chided her, pulling the bags from her form and taking them towards the tiny kitchen, "There's no telling what could be waiting in the dark."

(Y/N) kept her mouth shut as her father went off on his complaints. She didn't mention Harry once.

—————

Dressed in her favorite nightgown with her hair braided back with the same twine she tied her herbs with, (Y/N) peered once more out her window, finding the same black cat that had been out there since she readied for bed still sitting in the garden.

Her moon-yellow eyes were bright in the dark as she stalked and played with the bugs that threatened the state of (Y/N)'s herb garden. She had never seen the cat before, but she was tempted to convince her father to let her bring the creature inside. She would be a good pet, (Y/N) decided.

Laying back against her pillows, only dim candle light allowing her to see her ceiling, (Y/N) cast her mind back to the hours earlier. Her day had been terribly uneventful, but had ended in heart-fluttering territory.

Though she realized, thinking back to the conversation she had indulged in on her walk home, she never caught why Harry was out so late by himself, anyway.

—————

Grey clouds crowded the sky as (Y/N) carefully stepped over the vining brush at her feet. The hem of her dress snagged once or twice on some of the thorny bushes and the rough bark covering unearthed roots. Acres of towering trees formed a canopy above her head, barely letting any of the limited light through. She had her eyes on the ground as she tried to scope out those few herbs she wasn't able to cultivate at the home garden. The basket at her hip was already teeming with a good handful of different bundles, but she still needed to find some winter savory.

More than once, her mind wandered as she trekked through the trees. It had been a week since she had last seen Harry, and yet he was still the one thing that floated through her mind whenever she drifted to her daydreams. She could still see the line of his profile, backlit by the cloudy moonlight. In her dreams, she had the courage to reach out and trace over the line, grazing the bridge of his nose and the dip of his cupid's bow. He grew more and more gorgeous every time she revisited her memories.

She was already known to have her head in the clouds, dreams too big for the village to contain, but she definitely floated upwards more and more since seeing Harry.

A small smile worked its way onto her lips the longer she wafted through her reverie. (Y/N) liked to think that if she had acted on that impulse—dragging her fingertip along the planes of his features—that he would have cracked a smile, showing off the thumbed dimples and dazzling teeth. Maybe, he would have even looked at her, wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her to his chest before dipping her in the middle of the street. He could kiss her then, the moment romantic and brazen and—

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks the second she saw the dead body on the forest floor.

If not for the pallor of her skin, she could have assumed this woman had fallen asleep peacefully among the brush. She looked to be around (Y/N)'s age, unbound hair spilling around her head. Her eyes were closed with her features set in a serene scene and arms crossed over her chest. Her palms were pressed flat over her collarbones, the same way those in coffins were laid to rest six feet under. The pose reminded her of her mother.

Though all of that tranquility went to hell when she saw her throat.

While the woman had been laid to rest with utmost respect, that didn't take away from the fact her throat was ripped open. (Y/N) swore her own esophagus grew sore and tight while looking at the women. The skin had been slashed out of the way by something sharp and angry, revealing frayed sinew and torn muscle. The raw red hue stood out starkly against the snowy pallor her skin had taken on. Something had attacked her, taking out her throat and leaving her to die right where she lay.

The most unsettling part, (Y/N) realized the longer she stood there, was that there was no blood. Where she expected to see a crimson crust forming around the wood or a puddle haloing the woman's form, there was nothing. Her wound didn't even look that gruesome, truly. It was clinically clean instead, as if a healer had already cared for her and planned on bandaging the tear before letting her head home. She had been bled completely dry, leaving her with rubbery skin, thin veins, and a clean white dress.

She had heard about these incidences—people going missing only to turn up later dead—but she never pictured it was like this. To her, everything sounded as if wanderers were attacked in the woods are lost through the elements. Never once through her forages in the area had she ever met the face of someone whose life was taken so decidedly.

(Y/N) wanted to scream, she wanted to cry and panic and run. But, she just stood there.

Time was stuck as she saw the woman with long red hair, unblemished skin, and a fine gown.

All at once, the severity of the situation flooded back to her.

Her sore throat was split open with a loud scream, blood-curdling and eye-watering. She dropped her basket to the floor, returning the herbs to where she had plucked them, before she sprinted towards home. Her dress caught on the thorns of the brush, her feet stumbling over the unearthed roots. None of the obstacles slowed her. She tugged her dress free with every pump of her legs, keeping herself steady with nothing other than the will of adrenaline and fear pushing he along.

She didn't realize she had been crying until she saw the edge of the village in sight, her cheeks burning with her hands going numb. A man she recognized as one of her father's friends was out in his garden, cultivating the family vegetables when he looked up to see her, concern striking his features.

"(Y/N)," the man called out, his voice echoing over the space.

Stumbling in her tracks, she fought to keep herself steady. Instinctively, she wanted to keep running until she made it back to her bedroom with her safety intact. She knew she couldn't do that, though. She had to tell someone about the woman, find her family and lay her to rest properly.

Find who had hurt her.

"Th-There—She's—Dead," (Y/N) panted, floundering around her jumbled mind. She couldn't find a single coherent thought in her head.

The man's thick brows only furrowed as he cautiously approached her. "Dead?" he pressed, making himself appear smaller as if she were the creature to be cowering from for survival.

Hearing someone else say the word had another round of sobs wracking through her body. "Sh—The girl—She's dead. In the woods, there's been another."

Horror took the man's features. Blood drained from his face, leaving him shades paler than just moments before.

"Another?" he asked, "Like the others?"

"I-I think so," she stuttered, moments away from crumbling to the ground. She couldn't be sure if the state this young woman had been in was what the rest of the others had gone through. She hope it wasn't.

A curse was uttered under his breath before he shouted towards his home. He called for his wife, a woman (Y/N) vaguely knew from church. It only took a moment for a woman to stick her head out of the doorway, her features screwing up in worry the second she saw (Y/N)'s blubbering form.

She was only vaguely aware of the man explaining to his wife what (Y/N) had shared, and that he was going to get the others together to recover the body and care for her. His wife needed to take care of her, inform her father of what (Y/N) had seen today.

Time moved impossibly slow while racing through each second simultaneously. At some point, she checked out, shock setting in as she came to terms with everything she had seen. By the time she returned, she had been deposited on the stoop of the church, a knitted blanket around her shoulders. Shivers wracked down her spine though she could feel herself breaking into a thin sweat. Many of the women of the village had swarmed around her, including Mary and Ethel. Feet away, her father was speaking with the vicar of the church.

"Drink this, dear," Mary said, shoving a warm mug of something in her hands.

(Y/N) made no move to follow her given directly, loosely gripping the cup in her palms. Her gaze was barely focused, tears still running down her cheeks, as she absently stared at the cobblestone under her boots.

Every time she blinked, she saw the bloodless wound on the woman. Her thin, lavender eyelids masking unseeing eyes. Her thin fingers, the pale skin barely covering the bones underneath. The sections of her neck that were frayed and ripped, matching that of the hem of her dress.

Murmurs arose once more around her. (Y/N) had no doubt there was already speculation about who could have done this—who would have killed someone in such a way that an onlooker end up as traumatized as the dead. A part of her brain pinged, knowing that Mary and Ethel would no doubt be peering accusingly at the castle in the distance, their accusations known without a single word leaving their lips.

Now more than ever, having seen a body, (Y/N) had no doubt that Harry had nothing to do with these disappearances.

No human could do what she saw in the woods.

—————

"Let me grab my coat, and John and I will escort you back home."

(Y/N) did her best to school her features, regulate her reaction before reaching a gentle hand on Margret's shoulder to keep her from ascending the stairs.

"Oh, no," (Y/N) declined, canting her head with a soft smile, "You've already been too kind tonight. I can make it on my own—home's barely a block away."

Margret chewed her lip between her teeth, looking over her shoulder to where her parents were standing by the hearth. So many eyes were on them and their interaction.

"Really, Marg," (Y/N) tried again, "My father and I appreciate everyone's kindness enough, I would hate to put you out even more and make you go out in a storm like this."

"But," Margret started, "I don't want to leave you alone. The storm is bad enough without everything that... happened."

Almost two weeks had passed since (Y/N)'s run-in in the woods, and yet the village's paranoia was at an all-time high. Her father had been at her side near constant since he had finished speaking with the vicar, promising her that he wouldn't let that happen again—finding something so gruesome, as well as a silent promise that she wouldn't become the gruesome sight. He had been shaken by her reaction, telling the vicar that he had never seen her so vulnerable, on the edge of hysterics.

Any herb they couldn't grow in the garden would now be out of stock until he himself could forage through the woods, but she would never be tasked with going by herself. Otherwise, he was going to be at her side as often as he could be, ensuring she was never alone. If he couldn't be there, then he had pooled together a batch of close family friends who would be willing to stand in for him. She would never be by herself, never vulnerable to another fright.

(Y/N) was losing her mind.

Everyone walked on eggshells around her, having seen her breakdown in real time. They heeded her father's request as if law, never allowing her even a second of alone time if not in the safety of her bedroom. Even her time in the garden had been reduced to a field trip for every young woman who was tasked to be at her side, chattering about the most lighthearted of subjects.

While in a few ways, (Y/N) couldn't blame her father, she selfishly didn't really care. She needed her freedom, even if that freedom came in the form of a short walk to her home by herself.

"I promise I will be alright," (Y/N) tried to soothe her friend, offering her beaming smile to Margret's parents and brother as well. "Thank you all for dinner, please don't let me add to the burden by making you all escort me home in a storm. I would never forgive myself if any of you fell ill."

It was Margret's mother that seemed to waver from (Y/N)'s reasoning. She most likely didn't want her children out in the rain, either. (Y/N) wasn't the only one in the village that needed to be protected from whatever lived in the woods.

Peering over her shoulder, Margret searched for her parents blessing that came in the form of a small dip of her father's chin.

"I will come visit you in the morning, then," Margret cemented, "to make sure you're alright."

"I look forward to it," (Y/N) chirped, bringing her friend in for a small hug before inching towards the front door. She gave her beaming smile to the rest of the family. "Thank you again," she said, "Dinner was wonderful. I'll have to steal the recipe sometime, Mrs. Wayfield."

"I'll send it with Margret in the morning, dear," she said, her smile tight, "Get home safe. Don't linger longer than you have to."

"Absolutely," (Y/N) promised, pulling the hood of her purple cloak over her head.

Final goodbyes were shared before (Y/N) stepped outside, the raging storm that had been rattling the roof of the home now whipping against her form.

As much as the wind stung her eyes and the rain chilled her skin, she reveled in the experience. She was alone, finally.

Despite what Mrs. Wayfield said, she definitely lingered longer than she needed to, allowing the rain to soak her cloak and begin to seep through her dress. She had never been one to steep in the rain or bask in storms, but that was going to be changing tonight.

The direct walk home was decidedly short, taking less than a block's worth of steps to take her there, but she was going to make it as long as possible. She might even take the scenic route, stepping through the center of town for no reason at all other than she wanted to.

Heavy droplets of rain weighed down her cloak the longer she took outside, the wind whipping the hem around her in waves. Taking her time, she ambled over the cobblestones of the town square, ignoring the drops that slipped over her warm cheeks.

Suddenly, the storm changed once she reached the center of town.

Before, it had been nothing but rain and wind, the kind of storm that would put her to sleep in a matter of minutes. Something shifted in a matter of moments, taking the wind and amping it up into swirling chills. A crack of lightning lit up the sky, making shadowy ghosts of all the buildings and turning the trees into bony hands reaching towards the heavens. Thunder rattled the Earth a moment later. The large drops of rain quickly became a heavy downpour, slicking down her form until her clothing was stuck to her body and her eyes were struggling to blink through the droplets. Every time she peeked through slitted eyes, the sheets slammed down thick enough she could barely see through it.

The scenic route no longer seemed fun now that she was out here. She should have just gone home like she promised.

(Y/N) had to step carefully over the cobblestones, not trusting the grip of her boots over the cracks. She wished she could sprint though the barrage, but she would no doubt lose her footing and smash her face into the rocky ground if she did.

Instead, she kept her head down and tried to navigate back home through the rain, lacking sight. She kept her pace as steady as possible, giving all her focus to the task of making it home, though she was vaguely aware of a familiar panic growing in her chest.

As much as she had wanted to be alone, take time by herself and live in the village without her father's word being law, she still saw the gruesome body every time she closed her eyes. (Y/N) had nightmares of that moment she had come across the young woman, though this time she blinked her eyes open when (Y/N) grew close enough before snatching at her foot. A shaky breath expanded (Y/N)'s lungs at the childish fear that something could even be following behind her at the moment. She would have no idea if there was; every sound was drowned out by the pouring rain, her sight impaired by the water running over her eyes and the heavy sheets acting like a fog over the village.

Unable to resist the urge, (Y/N) whipped her head around, trying to catch the monster in the act of following her. Unsurprisingly, no one was there.

She was alone, just as she had wished.

Spinning around, the village was completely vacant. No one knew she was out here. No one would even know if she had been snatched like that young woman. Not until she was found again.

That flare of panic in her chest rose again, clogging her throat and thickening her head.

She needed to get out of here. Being alone wasn't worth this. She should have just taken up Margret and John on their offer and gone straight to her room. She could have found her alone time on another day.

Picking the first direction in front of her, (Y/N) stormed through. This had to take her home, right? She had lived in this flat almost all of her life, she wouldn't forget where it was.

Until, of course, (Y/N) noticed she had taken the complete wrong direction, heading towards the opposite end of the village. A strike of lightning lit up the grey sky, showing off the vague shadow of the towering castle in the distance.

The Count's home. She had to turn around; she was no where close to the apothecary.

This time, when (Y/N) spun around, trying to find a direction to head through her woolen throat and mounting panic, she couldn't decide. What if she went the wrong way again? What if she ended up back in the town center?

What if she died out here?

The morbid turn of her thoughts took her breath away.

She was stunned in place, unable to make any move in any direction.

Suddenly, a hand settled on her shoulder, stilling her shaking form.

"(Y/N)? What are you doing out here?"

(Y/N) stumbled, turning around to face to familiar voice speaking right behind her.

There, backlit by another round of lightning and thunder, was Harry.

His hair was almost black under the rain, near soaked despite having barely been out in the elements for longer than a few moments. His velvet jacket grew darker with every drop absorbed into the thick fabric. He pale skin was a beacon in the gloom.

"H-Harry?"

"You can't stay out here, (Y/N). You're going to fall ill, or worse," he told her, concern dripping from his tone the same way the rain clumped through the length of her lashes.

When she gave her body permission to do so, she wasn't sure, but in a heartbeat she was clinging to his form. He was her safety in the middle of his storm, keeping her from falling victim to the most morbid of her thoughts. It was beyond improper, but she didn't care as she dug her fingers into his waistcoat. He couldn't leave her here.

"I-I was trying to go home," she whined, her voice fragile under the weight of everything. "I think I'm l-lost."

She felt pathetic to utter something so silly given she knew this town like the back of her hand, but it was a truth.

Harry lingered in front of her for a moment, seemingly assessing her before he sprung into action.

"That's alright," he murmured, speaking as if she were an injured animal, "Let me take you home. I think I remember the way. Is that okay? I have my carriage over there."

He pointed behind himself, where another slice of lightning revealed a black, boxy carriage led by regal white horses. She could see the vague form of someone sitting in the coach box.

When she didn't immediately answer, he wrapped a tentative arm around her form. "Let me get you home, (Y/N)."

She gave an absent nod, willing to let him take her anywhere—anything was better than this, she decided. He bundled her against him as he took her to the side of the carriage, sacrificing an arm holding her middle to open the door. He helped heave her inside, getting her in as quickly as possible.

"Thank you," she peeped when she settled on the bench seat. She kept her eyes on him as he waited a moment, relaying to the driver the new destination.

Her body shook with unstoppable tremors as Harry climbed in after her, her soaked clothing ruining the red velvet under her. She would have to apologize to him later.

It was here, in the dry of his carriage, that (Y/N) realized she was sobbing with rivers of hot tears pouring down her cheeks. It wasn't just the chill of the rain that had her feeling as if she couldn't breathe, she realized. In the safety of the cover, wracking sobs kept her from properly filling her lungs, her inhales way too short to be safe.

The carriage spun around her despite the way (Y/N) tried to focus on her hands on her lap. This wasn't good, she knew.

"(Y/N)," she heard, the voice firm and commanding, "Look at me, darling."

Absently, she pulled her head up to face Harry.

He was inches away from her. (Y/N) could make out the the shattered shards of green around his black pupils. The strong line of his nose and pillow lips were right there.

Harry was dazzling. Breathtaking.

Unfortunately, breathtaking was the last thing she needed right then.

Before she knew any better, (Y/N)'s lashes fluttered as her eyes fell closed on their own accord, her breathing stunted in her lungs. The last thing she was aware of was Harry's panicked call of her name before she spilled over the velvet seat as she lost consciousness.

—————

When (Y/N) finally cracked her eyes open, her limbs felt impossibly heavy as if she had rocks tied to each end as she sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Her bleary sight took it's time clearing, allowing heartbeats to pass before the blurry streaks around her came into focus.

She was in an immaculate bedroom, she realized. Her body was cushioned by luxurious velvet, dyed a deep crimson. The mattress underneath was plush and inviting, urging her to sink deeper and deeper into the dreamy bedding and warmth it offered. A length of fur ran across the end of the bed, tickling her bare ankles as she stretched.

Sitting up where she had been nestled atop the bed, more and more of her head came to her. The bed was even more opulent that she thought. Four posters shot up from around the frame, holding curtains made of delicate black lace. Her hands ached just looking at it, thinking about how long it would take to make something so beautiful, even with the help of one of those sewing machines. More furs and velvet decorated the large space; everything honing in on the darker spectrum of colors. Here and there, pops of gold thread appeared like minute rays of sunlight. At the bedside was a bouquet of cut flowers, all in rich violet hues and smelling sweet enough to draw her in like a butterfly. And she almost did, sticking her nose into the tall stalk of trumpet shaped flowers until she realized what kind they were and jerked back.

Foxglove, she recognized them to be. Poisonous.

Around the stalk were wisteria blooms and plumes of baby's breath. The wisteria was another set of flowers that were gorgeous to look at, but deadly in the end.

Pulling away with a stiff back, she set her bare feet on the ground. Now that she was free from the flowers, the woody scent of winter savory and spike of tobacco in the background were the prominent aromas taking her attention. Looking around her, her cloak was dry, laid on the end of her borrowed bed alone with her boots set up in a neat row by her feet.

This place was extravagant. A fairytale daydream, perfect for her head-in-the-clouds mindset.

This had to be a castle. No random hut could have something this indulgent.

There was only one castle she knew of.

Memories came back to (Y/N) in pieces.

The storm. She had left the Wayfields' home, telling them she would head straight home despite knowing she was lying. She had wanted some time alone, away from her father's overprotective gaze. But the storm was too much. She had pathetically lost her way and panicked, remembering the woman she had found in the woods.

Then, there was the gleaming black carriage. The ghostly pale face of the Count who offered to take her home, get her out of the rain and into safety before he would be on his way. She remembered him helping her into the carriage, telling the coachman that they needed to drop her back at the apothecary. Her emotions had fluctuated to opposite ends of the spectrum: extreme panic under the sheets of rain to the deep relief she felt at seeing a familiar face who could help her.

The last few things she could remember was the guilt she felt at ruining the luxe seating in the Count's carriage before looking up to see him facing her directly with his breathtaking features. That was all that had been left before she tumbled back and lost consciousness.

This was no doubt the Count's home. There had been times she had wondered what kind of interior a building as magnificent as this one would have, but she had never thought of something this indulgent.

Though, despite her admirations, she couldn't stay here.

She was never supposed to take even the long walk home, let alone travel all the way to the gargantuan home that the most notorious member of the village resided in. (Naming him as a member of their village was a stretch, but the easiest way for (Y/N) to think at the moment). There was no telling how long she had been out, but her father was going to kill her even if it was ten seconds.

Despite the ache in her bones and the stiff fabric of her ill dried dress, she forced her boots back on, the laces pulled into clumsy bows. Her cloak was grabbed in a haste before she started towards the door. She didn't know what she was going to do, but she needed to get back home as soon as she could.

Swinging open the heavy door, (Y/N) swayed on her feet, stopping in her tracks when she saw who was on the other side.

Propped against the opposing wall, between more cut flowers and immaculate paintings, was the Count himself.

He was at attention within a second, but (Y/N) had caught the way he had been slumped against the wall, his shoulders a sullen slope. In an instant, he had crossed the grand hall to meet her at her door, his hands reaching out towards her. His eyes looked darker than ever, only light shatters of deep green apparent in his iris. His usually flawless hair was left in disarray. Somewhere, he had shed his coat and cravat, leaving the billowed sleeves of his shirt and grey waistcoat the only articles on his torso. Even the neckline of his white shirt had been left loose, a stretch of creamy skin on display.

"Are you okay?" he breathed out, his gaze immediately tripping down her form before she had a chance to answer, "I-I tried to make sure you hadn't injured your head, or-or worse when you fell faint, but I couldn't be positive."

Her lashes fluttered in a blink as she startled over his concern. She had never seen him so discomposed, his demeanor world's away from calm.

"I-I'm alright," she breathed, finding her tongue in her dry mouth, "You brought me to your home?" She could vaguely remember him ordering the coachman to take her home, back to the flat above the apothecary.

He wet his lips, his eyes searching through hers as he collected his words. "When you fell faint," he started, "I was not sure if you would have been alone if I took you home. I was worried; I decided to take you back here, so I could keep an eye on you. That's all, I swear it."

She was sure he knew just as well as she that being alone like this—unchaperoned, neither of them dressed as they typically should be, no one aware of her whereabouts—was more inappropriate than a single moonlight stroll through town. This could ruin both of them if anyone found out; (Y/N) would be deemed unbecoming for marriage, and the small amount of reputation Harry had would be buried six feet under.

Throughout all, (Y/N) still found her skin warming, seeing how genuinely he spoke of her and his worry of her well-being. Other than her cloak and boots, she could tell none of her clothing had been tampered with. He had done nothing more than keep an eye on her.

"Thank you," she swallowed, nodding her head as she allowed a small smile to curl her lips. She felt a bit desperate then, hoping he knew how deep her gratitude went. "Truly, thank you. I-I don't know what happened to me, it was scary."

"I'm sure it was," he murmured, the tight set to his features loosening the longer she stood in one piece before him. "I am glad I found you when I did."

"How long has it been?" she asked, noticing not a single window that could give away the time of day. She wasn't even sure if it was still night time.

He deflated some at her words. "A few hours, I think" he shared, dropping his gaze as if realizing just now how long he had been her self-appointed guardian, "The storm finally ended not too long ago. You were exhausted, (Y/N)."

She had never heard her name wrapped in his voice before. Looking at him now, she was back in that carriage with her lungs stunted and mind only on him. She swore she could see his eyes lightening before her gaze, more and more green coming to the surface like a murky pond under sunlight. The panicked urge she had to race home slowly melted out of her.

"I'm not surprised," she agreed, finally breaking her gaze from his for no other reason than to allow her breath to come back. She cast her eyes around the opulent space, taking in the priceless art around her, the glossy flooring and detailed decor. "This is your home?"

"For as long as I can remember," he smiled, pride straightening his shoulders as he followed her line of sight, "It's my sanctuary. If you'd like, I can have the kitchen make something for you and I can give you a tour of the grounds in the meantime."

Instantly, she wanted to accept. She wanted to see what kind of creations a place like this could make in the kitchen. She wanted to know where he had found such gorgeous, but deadly plantlife. She wanted to know if any of her daydreams had been right about this place.

Unfortunately, there was that niggling worry that popped back up in the back of her mind.

"As much as I would love to, I can't," she reluctantly let out, "I have to go home. My father... he's probably rallying the village as we speak, trying to find me before he loses his mind."

Harry's expression fell, losing that pride over her praise. Nonetheless, he gave her a relenting nod. "I understand," he said, cracking a small smile, "I have had you hidden away for long enough, I suppose. I'll have my staff ready my carriage, and I'll have you home by dawn."

"Thank you," she said earnestly once more, "Really, Harry. I fear where I would be if you hadn't come across me."

"I do as well," he shared, his voice low as if sharing a secret with her.

This time, (Y/N) didn't wipe the smile from her lips as she looked up at him. Another shade of green seemingly appeared in his gaze.

—————

"You're not coming with me?" (Y/N) asked, poking her head out of the door of the coach when Harry didn't immediately follow after her. The first rays of sunlight were beginning to crest the horizon, giving away just how long she had been far from home, though that didn't stop her from stalling.

"Unfortunately," he said, keeping his feet planted on the ground outside the carriage. He looked up at her from where he stood, holding the door open as he spoke to her. "I have business to attend to very soon; I wouldn't have time to arrange everything if I escorted you this morning. I hope you'll accept my apologies, anyway."

Though she was disappointed she would lose out on time with him, she couldn't blame him. He must be a busy man if he had this place to call home and a full staff to take care of it. He didn't have time to chauffeur her around the village, even if that was what she wanted. He didn't even have a chance to tell her where he had found the flowers for his bouquets.

"I suppose I'll forgive you this time," she said, a sly smile on her lips that had Harry's own lips blooming, "But next time, I won't be so lenient."

"I appreciate your grace, my lady," he played along, offering her that dazzling smile and dimpled cheeks. "I promise to see you soon. I feel like I'll need to visit the apothecary sooner rather than later."

(Y/N) could take that promise. "I will make sure we stay stocked, then."

"Until next time," Harry said, inching away from the carriage with reluctant steps deeper into the shadows.

"Until next time."

With that, Harry closed the door to the coach, relaying the destination to the driver.

With her hands in her lap and heart bubbling in her chest, (Y/N) allowed her cheeks to split with her smile. Definitely better than any kind of daydream her cloudy head had come up with.

—————

As soon as she approached the church, (Y/N) was grateful for the instructions she had given to the coachmen to drop her at the edge of the village, leaving her to be the only one who had seen the carriage at all. As she had suspected, her father really had rallied every able body in the town. She could only imagine she had caught them right before they started combing the woods and terrorizing the neighboring villages until they found her.

It was Margret who had seen her first, breaking down into tears with a bursting sob before she was running towards (Y/N).

"Where have you been?!" she screamed, collapsing around (Y/N) in a steely hug, "I—We—Everyone thought you were—"

Margret didn't have to finish her words for (Y/N) to know what had been on the village's mind.

Before she had a chance to do anything more than reciprocate the hug and draw a breath, her father was barreling over. "(Y/N)!" he shouted, a mix of relief and anger tinting his tone. She doubted he even knew how to feel in that moment.

"I'm sorry, Margret," (Y/N) muttered, offering a consoling smile before pulling away from her hug. The Wayfields stepped forward to collect their daughter while (Y/N) went towards her father, already dreading the lecture she would receive. "Father, I—"

The air was stolen from her lungs the second he scooped her into a tight hug. "My daughter," he murmured into her hair, nestling her against his chest, "I thought the worst."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, aware of the eyes watching their embrace.

"What happened?" he asked, pulling away to face her with watery eyes and warm cheeks, "Why didn't you stay with Margret and her family? They said you went through the storm alone, promising to come back home."

(Y/N) felt immense floods of guilt bubble through her system. This wasn't the welcome home she had thought she'd garner.

"I hadn't meant to frighten anyone," she started, hoping the rest of the village overheard, "I only wanted a minute alone, but I was planning on coming home right away. But, the storm was so heavy, and I scared myself. I was disoriented and ended up a village over. I stayed in their church for the night, until it was safe to come home."

The lie slipped off her tongue like water, the story planned from her time in the carriage. Her guilt only worsened knowing she was deceiving her father, but she didn't want anyone to know where she had spent the night. Despite the impropriety of the whole thing situation Harry, she didn't want Mary and Ethel chattering to her father that the Count was trying to steal away his daughter and flay her before dropping her in the forest.

She didn't want Harry to be dragged into this.

His features tightened at her words, but she could see as he ultimately accepted them. "Okay," he relented before flexing his arms around her in a pulsing hug, "Never again, (Y/N). Do you hear me?"

"I hear you," she promised, holding him back just as tightly.

Over his shoulder, she could see the gleaming of a black carriage ascending the trail towards the large castle in the distance.

—————

oleander, if consumed, can slow the heart and cause death within hours.

ahhhhhh! super super super different for myself ngl! I changed a couple of ideas I had just bc I started scaring myself but thank you so much for reading! im so happy im finally putting out a halloween fic! so sorry for any mistakes and if theres any ideas or thoughts please send them in!

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