#feeling better about writing after doing this

[jarofstyles]

Appetency

Okay so we've got a bit of a long one. Kinda enemies to lovers if you blink, fuckboyrry turned softrry, dedication galore, hesitant Y/N and confident H, you're gonna love it. This is the first half- the other half is already up on Patreon and will be here later on 💕

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Warnings- slight angst, mentions of anxiety, alcohol, cocky h turned into a loverboy... nothing too crazy in this part.

WC- 8.5k

“Why are you every-fucking-where.” Y/N stopped short, glaring at the man across from her. The entire party, she had been trying to avoid him- but he wasn’t letting that be at all possible.

Harry grinned widely at that, the most obnoxious and infuriatingly pretty smile with those stupid dimples. Leaning against the wall as he studied her for a good moment, there was no hiding the not so casual enjoyment he got out of flustering her. 

Finally, he broke the silence, standing up from his casually cool stance on the wall. She knew he was going to say something that annoyed her and it was proven as he opened his mouth. "C’mon, don’t be like that. Perhaps you just can't keep me off your mind, baby girl. Can’t stop thinking about me, seeing me everywhere…"

“Ew. Do not call me that.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust for the nickname, walking past him. He followed, of course, because he always did. “Just because we have a few similar friends doesn’t mean you need to be at every social event. I’d love a break from your smug face.”

"You can't possibly be getting tired of this handsome face already…" He protested as he followed behind, his words purposely trying to rile her up. Getting a rise out of her seemed to make his whole day, and usually she would laugh it off but this time… things were different. Finding a spot in the kitchen, he watched as she puttered around trying not to look at him. 

His eyes danced with amusement as he added in some more. "Or are you just mad that I always seem to steal the show, love? Not my fault that I'm effortlessly charming and captivating, darling."

“Humble, too.” She snorted, grabbing a drink from the cooler. Buzzballs were not the thing she’d want to choose when she was thinking about the next morning, but they were exactly what she needed when it came to trying to mentally escape right now. “You’re insufferable. Really.” His eyes were on her as she used her nail to pop open the cap. 

“So are you going to leave me alone, or follow me around all night?”

Harry chuckled in amusement at her sarcasm, enjoying the way she rolled your eyes at him. "Leave you alone when you look this lovely? Not a chance in hell, darling." He hummed, tapping his own bottle against the counter. He paid no mind to the new people who entered the space, eyes glued on the girl he was talking to. "But as much as I'd love to keep annoying you, I have a much better way we could spend time. Don't you remember, love?" He purred. “I certainly do. It’s hard to forget the way it feels when you moan-” The interruption was instant, her hand gripping onto him. 

“Harry…” she hissed, tugging his arm further down the dark hallway and into a bedroom. Who’s? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she had seen where this was going, and she didn’t want him to say it too loudly. Everyone was so god damn nosy and respectfully, she didn’t want to deal with any of that. Not after all she had said.

“Listen.” Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up at him as he stood a little too close. “We hooked up, it was a mistake. You know it.” Though it didn’t seem like he thought so considering how he trailed her ever since. “We… we were a little drunk and I was lonely and you were there.” 

Y/N knew she was slightly lying, but she was trying to fool herself. If she said it enough times, maybe she’d believe it. They’d always had chemistry. It was intensity that burned between them, her disdain and his addiction to getting a rise out of her. It was only a matter of time that they’d give into some sort of blow out- but she hadn’t expected it to be as good as it was. It couldn’t happen again. 

Harry had that knowing smirk on his face as she tried to deny it all, knowing exactly where this was headed. The thrill of chasing her, of getting under her skin was intoxicating, addicting. He loved making her growl and huff and glare at him, because it meant getting her undivided attention.

"Was it really a mistake?" He asked as he leaned against the door, finally giving her some breathing room.  "Or have you just been avoiding me because you couldn't stop thinking about it?"

The truth was that he had been thinking about that night ever since. Multiple times. Before he went to sleep, when he was in the shower.. It was hard not to. 

Her jaw clenched, placing her bottle down and crossing her arms. “Look. You’re hot, Harry. You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve got plenty big of an ego. But I’ve been avoiding you because it can not happen again.” 

Y/N knew that Nina was into Harry and she really didn’t want to start any drama. Not that he even seemed remotely into her, but because she acted like he was someone she had dibs on. As gross as it was, she tended to start shit with anyone Harry pursued and she just wasn’t in the season for drama. There were other things to worry about other than start a feud over a man. 

He had known about Nina's crush on him, but he didn't care about her. He never had, and he never would. As fucked up as it was, what they had, in his mind, was just a harmless flirtation, nothing more. Y/N knew that, but Nina didn’t. He couldn't have been more clear he had no interest in her, but some people took delusion to heart. 

It didn’t matter how good Harry gave it to her last time, how hard her legs shook, how sore she was in the best way. Didn’t matter if his tongue was hot and through and how he’d cleaned her up with it. It couldn’t be repeated.

Harry's smirk only widened as she openly admitted he was attractive, his ego inflating even more. But when she mentioned avoiding him, his smile faltered slightly.

"Why can't it happen again?" He asked, moving closer to her, his eyes darkened. Too close, making her take a deep breath. If there was one thing he would give him, his presence was commanding. Felt. Her body was very familiar with his now, wanting to lean into him, but she fought it.

“Because.” She sighed tiredly. “I really can’t deal with any drama. I’m exhausted, and the last thing I need is that she-devil going after me because she thinks I’m ‘stealing her man.’ “

The man let out a laugh, amused by the comment. Yeah, he knew exactly who she was referring to and found it funny. He knew she could be a drama queen, and he definitely didn't care for her possessive tendencies, but he had told her that they had nothing going on between them and never would.

He stepped closer to her, his greedy hands reaching out to touch her hips, his touch firm. "You're not stealing me, love. She never had me, and she's delusional if she thinks she does." His eyes gleamed with desire as he looked at her, his touch becoming a bit more possessive in his own way. "And I want you, not her."

“Harry, you don’t actually want me.” She groaned in frustration, trying to ignore how her tummy dropped as he pulled her into him, his other hand curling around her jaw. Stupid body, stupid hormones, stupid muscle memory.  “You think you do because you like a chase. You don’t actually like me or anything, you like how I fuck.” She said bluntly, glancing up at him.

Harry's smug expression faltered as she protested. He could feel the annoyance, but he also noticed the way her body responded to his touch. There was no denying that. "Is that what you really think?" He asked, his grip on her jaw tightening slightly as he looked down at her. "That I'm just chasing you only for the thrill of the chase, for the sex?"

His eyes darkened, his other hand moving lower on her hip, pulling her flush against him. He could feel her body against his, the softness, the warmth, and he wanted it all back. There had been no way she could tell him that she hadn’t enjoyed it, considering he’d made her cum 3 times, made her gush all over his cock. She’d clung to him, held onto him, whimpered his name. But he’d taken care of her, he had gotten her some pomegranate juice and a snack, helped her tie her hair up, driven her home. When the contact had been nonexistent, he was hoping she was just making him work for it- but that wasn’t all this was to him.

“Yeah.” She furrowed her brows. “Is it not?” Harry wasn’t the relationship type, not usually. Everyone knew that. Y/N had constantly reminded herself that when they’d first met and she had a bit of a crush on him, only to see that he liked to fuck em’ and leave ‘em. It lost the appeal and she had resented him a bit for it. 

Was it fair? No. She knew that. But their dynamic had been built on that resentment. 

Harry's jaw clenched at her response, frustration and something else flickering in his face. He loosened his grip on her slightly, his gaze searching her eyes, trying to convey something she obviously wasn’t picking up on.

"And what if I told you that you were wrong?" He asked, his voice low. "What if I told you that there's more to me than just chase and sex?" He tilted his face closer to hers, his hand on her hip keeping her snug. He hadn't realized it himself just how touch deprived for her he actually was. Did she really think it was all just… a game? Had he not proven himself to her that night? Granted, he had maybe fucked up in how he communicated after but… the ball had been put in her court. 

He could tell that she was skeptical, but he was determined to make her believe him.

"I want you." He said firmly, his hand on her jaw moving to wrap around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "I want everything. Your body, your mind, your heart." His hand on her hip moved lower, his touch a little needy. "And the fact that I can't have you is driving me insane. Want you to believe me."

“But why?” She sputtered. “All we do is argue. All I do is blow you off and all you do is follow me around to piss me off.” 

She had no idea he had his own fascination with her. How he’d silently watched her, observed, saw how she was with other people and wanted that chance to feel that. To have one of those smiles for himself.

Harry shook his head with a light laugh, his grip on her flexing slightly as he stared down at the girl he had been playing cat and mouse with. "Because I'll take the arguing, the blowoffs, all of it, just to be near you. I don't know when it truly started, but you've gotten under my skin, love." He pushed her back against the door, his body pressed against hers, trapping the girl. Looking down at her, his eyes were dark with desire, with honesty. It was a little unsettling.

“Harry.” She swallowed, eyes fluttering as his fingers stroked over her jaw and down over her throat, tenderness tinging the touches. “It’s not funny if this is a joke. It’s not.”

Harry's let out a tired breath, his touch gentle as he stroked her delicate skin, taking advantage of every touch. He could see that vulnerability in her eyes, and it only made him more determined to prove himself. "M’not joking. " He said firmly. "This is serious, I want you, and m’not giving up until I have you."

“Then you’re gonna have to work for it.” She exhaled sharply, pushing out of his hold and escaping back towards the party.

Y/N was almost fooled into giving in again- but she could give in without a real, true idea of what he was dedicated to. Maybe it was cruel of her to try and write him off as a bit of a slut trying his luck, but she’d never been awarded the chance to get to know him outside of their usual dynamic. 

That was why, the next day, seeing him on her front porch had her gasping in surprise. “Shit!” She yelped, keys falling to the wood below her. 

He looked good. The night of sleep seemed to refresh him, he’d showered, and he was bright eyed this morning. Determined. Why? She didn’t know. But this was not at all what she had expected when opening her front door. “ You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing here?”

"Good morning, love." He greeted her. “Nice to see you this mornin’. You look gorgeous.” That cheeky fucking grin, as usual, tilted on his mouth. 

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow in question. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

Harry flashed her a grin, completely unfazed by her skepticism.  "I'm here to see you, of course." He said, as if it was obvious. “Silly thing.”

“Why?” She didn’t want to get too huffy with him but he was nearly speaking in riddles and she didn’t have the patience for that. “Are you alright?”

Of course he was amused at how frustrated she looked, finding her impatience obviously endearing. Maybe it was just her, though. Y/N was a bit of a weakness of his, he found. Pushing himself up the final step, he grabbed her keys and handed them back to her, making no effort to pull his hands away from her own. 

"I'm fine, love." He hummed casually. "I just wanted to see you." Holding her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin. Casual intimacy that slightly caught her off guard.

The girl merely looked at him in confusion.  The plan for today had been to go to the grocery shop and do stuff around the house, not entertain the man who had admitted to wanting her last night- but she knew if he was here, it meant he was determined to get his way.

Aka, spending time with her. 

“Okay.. So now you saw me.” She said lowly. “Do you want to go home now?”

The sight of her looking so flustered and on edge fueling his determination, he shook his head.  "Not yet." He said, his voice low and firm. "M’not leaving until I get some of your time."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep inhale through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Meditative breathing did wonders, it seemed. Usually. She knew Harry well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let this go. He was going to keep prodding until he understood that he probably had no actual intention of being around her long term. He was looking at her with metaphorical sex goggles on. Yeah, she was good in bed, but that was only a tiny portion of her. 

He’d learn eventually.

“Well, I have to go to the store. So…”

Harry watched you closely as she opened her eyes from the attempting to calm herself. It was a little unnerving to know she needed to calm down from such a simple interaction but then again, he had been coming on a little strong. It was his nature, but he tried to relax his stance a bit. No way was he going to let an opportunity to spend time with her be wasted. He was dedicated now, wanting to win her over.  "You're going to the store?" He leaned in closer. “Looks like I'll just have to come with you, then."

Y/N sputtered as he took her handbag and totes from her, tucking them under his arm as the other held her hand. 

“C’mon.” He said smugly, pulling her towards his car. She followed, confused at how he had just agreed to go grocery shopping with her. Willingly. It wasn’t something he liked doing and she knew that- she somehow had found out one night that he had his delivered- but he seemed eager to do this with her. 

The last thing she expected was for him to open the passenger door and help her inside, but he did. Like it was second nature, opening it up and taking her hand to aid her into sitting sound, placing her bags on her lap.

Harry's smirk widened as he scooped up her handbag and totes, his grip on your hand firm as he guided her towards his car. He snickered under her breath at her sputtered protest, enjoying her disbelief that he was actually willing to go grocery shopping with her. Like it was some sort of hardship.

Once he had settled her in, he leaned in closer, the smell of cinnamon gum filling her senses. Keeping his stance, his eyes locked on her, his gaze intense. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and it only fueled his determination to make it second nature to her, to expect this sort of thing from him. . 

"You look cute this morning." He said, his voice low and smooth. "Did you get much sleep last night?" He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle.

Her cheeks felt hot as he tenderly touched her, the softness of it all surprising her. “Um… I did.” The compliment had flustered her too. It wasn’t something she was used to from him. Their usual dynamic was tense on her end and being a pain in the ass with a stupid smirk on his. This sort of treatment was new to her. 

“Thanks. You look….” It felt unnatural to compliment him, but she meant it. Strangely enough. All of this was so new to her.  “Nice.”

Harry chuckled at the slight hesitation in her words, enjoying the way she was thrown off by his tenderness. One day she was going to accept it.  He smiled at her attempt at a compliment, narrowing his gaze at her. "Just nice?" He teased, raising an eyebrow.  He placed a light hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her skin in small circles, his touch gentle and comforting.

“Well, handsome? I dunno.” She grumbled. “Just so you know, you’re carrying all the grocery bags. If you insist on coming along you need to be useful.”

"Oh, I can be very useful, love. You jus’ need to find out what else I can off s’all." He said, his hand continuing its caressing on her knee, his touch sending a little jolt through her body "And don’t worry, I’ll carry all the bags. You just worry about picking out what you need."

Harry could see the doubt in her eyes as he reassured her about carrying the bags, and he knew he had to prove it. Not just that, but the whole thing. He hadn’t won her over quite yet, but he would. 

Removing his hand from her knee, he ignored how much he missed the touch and stood up straight, standing tall and strong next to the car. 

"You don’t believe me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just watch, sweetheart. Gonna shock the shit out of you."

——-

Y/N was suspicious. 

Harry was… behaving. More than, actually. He was being sweet and polite, borderline charming. Standing beside her as she pushed the cart, grabbing the items at the top shelves, not rushing her at all. He was flirty, sure, but nothing insane that truly made her roll her eyes at him. His voice was soft spoken and held only a tiny bit of the arrogance it usually did… and she liked it.

Who the fuck was this? And what had they done with the normal Harry? 

“You’re freaking me out a little.” She mumbled, checking off another thing on her list. “Like, you’re being pleasant. That’s not normal for you.”

"What, I can't be pleasant sometimes?" He teased, giving her a look. 

He couldn't help but grin as he watched her check off another item on the grocery list, his eyes roaming freely over her focused expression. He was enjoying this, he realized, enjoying the chance to be close to her more than he would have ever expected. "Maybe I’m just in a good mood today." He said, leaning against the cart.

“It’s just suspicious.” She glanced at him from the side of her eye. “You’re always following me around and trying to get me to snap at you. So excuse me for being a little confused when you’re acting so normal and nice.”

Harry liked working her up and getting reactions out of her, but he liked her. Y/N gave him the tummy butterflies, the excitement, the hot cheeks, all of it. She just didn’t know that- or was heavily in denial. It was his fault, he knew, from never expressing how serious the desires were and expecting her to read between the lines. But fuck, could she blame him? Y/N was a spitfire.

“Can you- fuck.” She groaned. “This can not get any worse.” 

Across the aisle, she saw her. Nina. Glaring at the scene of Harry standing a little too close to Y/N, doing a domestic activity like shopping together… It looked like they were way more than friends. This wasn’t something he liked doing and of course, the other girl would know that… So the situation didn’t look too good.

Harry could feel the shift in her mood as she spotted Nina across the aisle, and he tensed up slightly, ready for the inevitable confrontation.  Fuck, and they’d been doing so good. Of course, someone had to throw him a curveball. 

Good thing he was willing to work for this. 

"Relax." He said quietly, his hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, thumbing over the fabric. "I'll handle it."

Harry could feel the tension in her body as he held onto her, knowing that she was on edge. He knew Nina could be a handful, and he didn't want her to add to the stress of the situation. Especially after Y/N was seemingly warming up to him.

He took a deep breath and turned to her, his expression neutral but firm. 

"Nina." He said, his voice calm and steady- almost bored. "Why are you glaring at us like that?”

Nina’s eyes flicked between the pair, her expression hardening as she spoke. “What are you two doing?” She asked, her voice dripping with disdain. 

Harry kept his expression neutral, his hand on Y/N unmoving as he spoke to her. “We’re shopping. Is that a crime?” He replied, his tone cool.

Nina’s lip curled up in a sneer, her eyes narrowing. "Shopping? Is that all?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Awfully domestic, isn’t it?”

Harry chuckled, unruffled by her attitude. "Yes, Nina. We’re just picking up some groceries. Is that so hard to believe?" he challenged, letting her try and intimidate him. It wasn’t going to work. 

The girl’s jaw clenched as Harry responded to her, clearly annoyed at the lack of reaction she was getting from him. 

She took a step closer, sizing Y/N up with an unpleasant expression. She really needed to not make that face- it was unflattering.  “Is this a date or something?” She snapped, her eyes flickering over to Harry.

Harry chuckled at Nina’s question, finding her assumption humorous. 

He looked over at the girl he wished would say yes, his eyes filled with amusement. "What do you think, love?” He taunted.  Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he didn’t particularly care. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. This wasn’t what she wanted out of this interaction. Hell- she never wanted his interaction at all. “We’re shopping.” She said lowly. “And we have to go.”

Nina pursed her lips as her response, clearly unsatisfied with the answer she was given. She never could leave well enough alone. Harry could see her gearing up for another snarky comment, so he quickly interjected. 

"She’s right." He said, his tone firm. “We do have to go. Bye."  There was no hint of remorse on his face as he motioned for her to get out of the way. 

With that, he guided Y/N forward, steering both her and the cart towards the checkout area.

“Christ.” Y/N rubbed her temples. “She’s gonna try and burn my house down. I know it.” She sulked.

Harry chuckled at the outburst. He continued steering the cart towards the checkout area as she went back over the list, a small smile on his lips. 

"Don't be so overdramatic." He teased. "She's not gonna burn down your house. She's just jealous."

“Harry, she’s scared like, 4 women away from hanging out anywhere near you completely.” Y/N sighed. “I know you don’t see it as much, but she’s tenacious. I don’t know what’s going to get her to stop, but you need to actually have a conversation with her to tell her you’re not interested. Or whoever ends up being your girlfriend is going to have to deal with her crawling around.”

Harry’s smile faded slightly as she mentioned Nina’s past behavior. He knew she could be intense and possessive, but he didn’t realize the extent of her actions. Considering he hadn’t even slept with her, it seemed like a massive overreaction. Of course there had been natural curiosity over some of the women in their friend circle had gone, but now that question had been answered. 

He bit his lip, mulling over the words as he helped her load the groceries onto the checkout belt. "You’re right." He said finally, his voice serious as it broke up the beeping of the items being scanned. "I guess I didn’t realize it was that serious. M’sorry. I don't particularly want to have that conversation, but it needs to be had. I’ll talk to her."

Harry continued helping you with the groceries, lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "I’ll talk to her soon, make sure she knows for sure me and her are never going to be a thing and if she wants to try and scare off anyone I talk to, she won’t be invited to anything else." He said firmly, his eyes serious. 

"But first," he added, breaking the tense air as his tone turned playful again, "We have to get these groceries home. I’m starving."

—

It was safe to say that she was even more confused than she had started off being. 

Harry helped her bring the groceries into her place. He helped her unpack. He even fed her cat while she washed the fruit so she could put it away. Helping himself to her house like he had a right to be there, a comfortability that had her a little spooked. 

It was hard to accept the thought of Harry actually liking her. First, she hadn’t ever seen him with a serious girlfriend. All she had been exposed to was seeing him fucking around with different people. Secondly, he was always so playful and unserious that internally, the most insecure part of her felt like maybe it was a trick, and it made her more apprehensive of him. 

It wasn’t fair of her to be so judgmental when she was not a virgin mary herself; she knew that she wasn’t giving him a proper shot, but it was scary. He was scary, in a way.  Maybe it was the idea of how far feelings could go if she gave in, but it felt hard to stop those original emotions she had towards him from coming back. 

“Thank you.” She said awkwardly as Harry sat at her breakfast bar. “Um, for helping put away the stuff and bringing it inside. That was really nice of you.”

Harry, who was lounging in a chair at the breakfast bar, chuckled at the awkward gratitude.  "S’no big deal." He said, his tone casual. "I’m happy to help." 

He leaned back in the chair, his eyes roaming over her face, his favorite thing to do. Watching her was the best part of being around her.  He could see the tension in her shoulders and the uncertainty in her expression, and it made him wonder what was going on in that head of hers. Why she was so apprehensive. Yeah, he knew he had a weird dynamic with her before, but no one thought of him as a bad guy.

The longer he looked, the longer Harry could tell that there was something bothering her, and he wanted to find out what. Call it morbid curiosity, but it was needed. He leaned forward a bit, his eyes locked on her pretty face.

"You seem a little tense." He said, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we got back."

She hadn’t expected him to call her out on it, but she should have. Harry was as blunt as they came, and she could have laughed at it if she didn’t feel a little anxious. 

“I’m okay.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at her feet for a moment the soft green ladybug socks he had given her a laugh over. “I’m a little anxious, I guess. This new dynamic kind of… put me off kilter.” The confession hung in the air before she continued.  “I’m used to you being annoying and… I dunno. It’s unfair of me, but I keep getting nervous that this is some joke to you and you’re gonna go back to being obnoxious once I let my guard down.” She winced. “And I’m sorry. That isn’t fair to you when I know I haven’t been the nicest to you either. But I guess you intimidate me a little.”

Harry listened intently as she spoke, his expression softening as she revealed the source of the troubled look on her face. He knew that he had been a bit of an arse in the past too, and he could understand why his sudden change in behavior had thrown her off. 

He leaned forward on his hands, his gaze still fixed on the girl’s tense stance, lips rolled into her mouth. "I get it." He said quietly. "And I’m sorry if I intimidated you or made you uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I wanted to do."  He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. "And as for this being a joke... it’s not. Not in the slightest. Trust me."

“I guess I’m a little confused too.” She admitted. “Where all of this is coming from. I know we hooked up a few weeks ago, but you didn’t call me or anything after. I wasn’t expecting you to, don’t get me wrong, but then I felt awkward seeing you at all the events and stuff and you were acting normal. I never let you get alone with me on purpose because I didn’t want to hear you tease me for giving into you.”

Harry’s expression soured a bit as she brought up the hook-up. He knew he hadn’t done anything to dispel her doubts about his intentions, and he felt a pang of regret.  He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. How could he explain it without sounding as stupid as he felt? “I know I didn’t call you after, and I should have. I was an idiot… I just… I thought maybe you wanted me to chase a bit, that the ball had been left in your court after I dropped you off at home and… and I didn’t think, honestly.”  He ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. 

“You have to understand why I’m a little uneasy.” With arms wrapped around herself, she let herself look back up at him. There was no trace of joking on his features and it did make her feel a tad bit better.  “It’s not that I didn’t like… what we did.” It was the best she’d ever had. “But I think I’m not cut out for just hooking up. I don’t regret it, even if I acted like I did.” She decided to give him a tiny bit of her vulnerability to see what he did with it. “I just know that hooking up, for me, never ends well. And I don’t know you really well, Harry.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, nerves shot. The last thing she wanted to do was seem desperate about locking him down or something, but she couldn’t lie to him or herself.

“I’m not trying to make you feel any sort of pressure to want to date me or anything. I’m just trying to lay down a boundary that for me, I think I’m one of those people that really needs an intimate connection and trust with someone. For some reason I trusted you that night, and I know you wouldn’t harm me in that way, but sobered up and standing in front of you, I feel a little apprehensive. Like, I don’t want you to feel any sort of pressure from me, but in order to have me in the way you said you want… it has to have some level of commitment is basically what I’m trying to say.”

Harry listened intently as she laid down the boundaries, his expression thoughtful. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes and in the way she fidgeted with her shirt, and it tugged at his heart in a way he hasn't felt before.  The last thing he wanted was for her to feel any sort of regret and he was glad she hadn’t so far, but he had to appreciate her laying out the law here. It gave him direction on where to go. When she finished speaking, he took a moment to process the words before responding. He can feel the seriousness of the conversation, and it's clear that she wasn’t making demands lightly.

He took a deep breath, his own vulnerability on display in his honest gaze. It was imperative to him that she understood how much he got it. How dedicated he would be to it if given the chance. "I understand." He said quietly, licking over his bottom lip. "I understand that you need a committed relationship, darling. I also understand that you need trust and intimacy in order to get there." he added, his voice soft. 

He took a moment to organize his thoughts, then continued speaking. It should be laid out in front of her. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… about us, I mean.”

“What do you mean?” She asked quietly, taking the moment to look him in the eye. It was the most serious she had ever seen him. Usually he had that smirk on his face, so smug or teasing, he’d be poking and prodding at her to get a reaction- but nothing about this interaction was insincere. It was almost off putting to see him this way.

Harry's gaze met hers, his eyes intense. "I mean that I've been thinking about us in a more serious way." he admitted.  He took a deep breath, his expression tentative. "I know I've been kind of hot and cold with you… and I know that I've played games in the past. But after we hooked up… I really couldn’t stop thinking about you. How different we were like that… How good it felt. So I want you to know that... I don’t want to play games with you. I want t’be serious about this."

Y/N hadn’t expected that answer. In all honesty she thought he’d reject her, say he wasn’t into it and keep it moving. That was what she was prepared for- not this. That sort of confession had her realizing that maybe she really didn’t know him at all. She knew some parts, sure, but seeing him like this was brand new. This man in front of her was a familiar stranger, at least this new side.

“I’d have to get to know you better.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, giving him a tentative look. “And it would be a little slow. I think I could give you a chance, though. I’ve been unfair to you, I think. I feel like we… kind of got off on the wrong foot.”

Harry lets out a small sigh of relief, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m okay with slow.” he says, his voice sincere. “I’m willing to work for it.”

He leaned back a bit, giving her a little more space as a hint of his usual playfulness returned to his features.. “And I think you’re right… we got off on the wrong foot. But I’m glad we’re taking the time to get to know each other now.”

——-

—— 

Harry was coming over again. 

It was strange. Since they’d agreed to explore something romantic, seriously, he had changed. Not completely, not to the point where she wondered who he was before, but enough to make her soften up. Hints of him being a pain in the ass we’re still there. But he was… sweet. Genuine. A little silly in a cute way that she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy before. 

One of the biggest shocks of all, was the fact that he was so gentle with her. He handled her with care, even if he was a little overly touchy. She was getting used to it because she found herself liking it, but he was the first guy to really be a bit of a clinger. 

That was the last thing she had ever expected from him.

His touches were soft and sweet and he looked at her with this little twinkle in his eye that she knew he couldn’t genuinely fake it. He liked her- liked her , liked her. 

She was still a bit shy with him, but it was slowly melting away each time they saw each other. Now the nerves were barely there, being overtaken by anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought would happen- being excited and antsy to see Harry, wanting him back in her house. 

He was coming over tonight and she had been prepping for a bit, primping and priming herself even though she wanted to look casual. There was never once so far that he hadn’t told her she looked gorgeous, and it had started becoming part of her daily routine. She wanted to impress him, make him say it again and mean it.

Her tummy twisted as she heard his car door slam shut, smiling to herself as she adjusted her cropped top and went towards the door. 

He was beautiful. Really, gorgeous as she opened the door to reveal him in the early evening light. He looked a little tired from work,slight bags under his eyes, but his smile melted her a little as he walked right into the house, dropping his bag in the foyer with little care for its well-being and picked her up in a big hug. Her feet dangled as she squealed, strong arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her effortlessly. 

“Hi.” She beamed shyly, feeling him set her down on the floor.

Harry couldn’t help but grin as he placed her down, his strong arms wrapping around her waist lazily.. He loved how delicate she felt in his arms, and he loved the way she squealed with surprise as he lifted her up a bit. Really, he loved most things that had to do with her. Taking a moment to admire her cozy appearance, his gaze lingered on her cropped top. “Hi.” He replied, his voice soft and warm. “You look beautiful.”

Like clockwork.

Before she could respond, Harry was pulling her back into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder as he held her, rocking slightly. A prime example of how touchy he was, unable to stop himself. He nuzzled her neck, letting his cool nose brush against the hot skin. “I missed you.” he mumbled, his voice muffled against her, leaving a little shiver in it’s wake..

When he said things like that it made her want to giggle madly, but also melt into a puddle. He truly meant it, was the thing, and she had a hard time understanding how this had happened. How he had gone from her little enemy to the person she looked toward to seeing the most. 

“I missed you too.” She admitted, fingers tracing down his back. It was an attempt to get more open about her feelings. Harry was being candid about his own, so she felt like she could extend him the same grace. Even if it was slightly terrifying, she had no reason to hold back anymore.

Harry pulled back slightly to look at her, a soft smile on his lips at her shy admission. "I like it when you say that." he teased, his voice low.  He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, his thumbs tracing small circles on the bare skin. He loved the way the cropped top revealed just enough to make him want more, and he found himself struggling to focus on anything but the feel of her body under his hands.

Harry wanted her, and there was obvious desire for her there. In all honesty, there was a lot of desire for her in general that he had done his best to keep under wraps  He’d been so good, trying so hard to prove himself- but that didn’t mean he was a saint. He was beyond attracted to her in every sense of the word, and it was hard to ignore that..

“Excuse me.” She let her smile grow, her tone playful. “My eyes are up here.” 

Y/N knew Harry wanted her in all of the ways, and he’d been exceedingly patient. He knew she was trying to build their connection before getting intimate with him again, and she appreciated it- but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy knowing he desired her. 

Or that she didn’t have those same urges.

Harry's gaze flicked back up to meet hers, a cheeky grin on his face. "I know where your eyes are. I look at them plenty, do I not?" He replied smoothly, his hands still resting on her waist, giving a gentle squeeze.  He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she shot him a look, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "But you can't expect me to ignore the rest of you when you're wearing something as distracting as that." Testing the waters, he was seeing how far his flirtation could go.

“It’s loungewear, you freak.” She scoffed, a hint of a smile turning up her lips. Leggings and a cropped top were a bit of a reward for him, though. She figured if he had been so patient with her then he could at least get to look at her. “But I’m glad you like it.” 

Taking his hand in her smaller one, she led him towards the kitchen to show him the pizza boxes and salad she had made to pair with it, feeling weirdly shy about it. That was the theme of today, considering she had come to a conclusion in her head- but he didn’t need to know about it quite yet. “I knew you’d be hungry when you got off work, so I ordered ahead.”

Harry's eyes lit up as he saw the food, warmth spreading through him. No one had been thoughtful like that to him before, but of course she would be. This sort of thing was why he had liked her. He’d seen it time and time again with their other friends and secretly wished for some of it for himself, that sort of care… and now that he got it, he felt that yearning for her get a little bit stronger. He let out a low whistle. "You knew exactly what I needed." he murmured, a grateful smile on his lips. 

Pulling her into him, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind. He nuzzled her neck again, his breath warm on her skin. "You're too good to me." he murmured, his voice showing just how grateful he was.

Y/N shivered slightly as he spoke against her skin, large arms wrapping around her and making her feel that same brand of delicacy that only Harry had been able to accomplish. His arms were just… beautiful. Built and muscular, covered in those tattoos, she loved every single thing about them. Looking at them, feeling them, how he used them… she couldn’t admit it out loud yet, but being in his arms was one of her new favorite places. 

“You texted and said you didn’t sleep well and you had a rougher day at work and… I dunno. I thought maybe you’d like something ready when you came over. I would have cooked myself but I had a workshop.” She rambled on a little bit, feeling the need to overexplain herself.

Harry squeezed her tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder. He inhaled her scent, his nose buried in hair as she spoke. 

"Mmm. " He hummed, his voice low and gravelly. He ran his nose over her throat, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. "You didn't have to do all this, you know." He moved his hands down over her hips, his thumbs tracing soft circles on the exposed skin there. "But I'm really grateful you did." He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his grip on her tightening slightly. "Can I ask you somethin’?"

“Hm?” She replied. It was hard to focus. Sure, it would be awkward if anyone else say them just standing in her kitchen with the large man wrapped around her body, but no one else was there to judge her for indulging both herself and him in this sort of cuddle. 

Harry's body was pressed against her, a small smile on his lips. He really did enjoy this moment of quiet intimacy just as much as he enjoyed the more energetic moments where they’d go out or he’d help her take care of her garden.

"Can I stay over tonight?"

It should have been a scarier question to her, all things considered, but the answer came out of her mouth naturally. 

“Sure.” She nodded. There was no second guessing it either. “Is that what that bag was?” She realized he had brought in a bigger duffle than his usual work one, but she had thought it was maybe just to change from his work clothes.

Harry's smile grew as she agreed so easily. "Mhmm." he hummed, his voice low. His hands moved up her sides, tracing the curve of her waist. "I wanted to be prepared just in case you said yes." Presumptuous? He’d prefer the terms hopeful, even confident. They’d been doing so well, he had to at least ask.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a hint of a smirk on his face. "So... where can I sleep?"

He turned her in his grip, letting her look up at his face now with narrowed eyes. Her heartbeat quickened though she tried to calm it down. He was teasing her a little bit, but he did genuinely want to know. 

“If you promise no extreme funny business… you can sleep in my bed.” She placed her hand on his bicep, squeezing a little. It was her own reward. “But remember, Harry. No sex. Okay?” Gliding her other hand up to cuff over the back of his neck, she decided it was finally time to tease him back a bit. “However… If you’re really, really nice to me… I may let you kiss me again.”

Harry's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a hint of challenge. He leaned down, bringing his face closer to the girl’s.  "You're being bold, darling." he teased, his voice low and playful. "Are you trying to tempt me?"

“A little.” She hummed. “I like when you’re sweet to me. So if you keep it up, I’ll let you kiss me as long as you’d like tonight. I know I’ve been holding all of that intimacy hostage…” 

It had been driving him wild. Near kisses and her letting him brush his hand over the curve of her ass a few times before putting them back up to her hips, he’d tested the waters but got rejected. Now, she was loosening up a bit. 

“So.” She blinked up at him. “Are you gonna be nice to me tonight so you can kiss me?”

Harry's eyes glinted with a mixture of desire and playful mischief. He loved it when she teased him just as much as he loved it when she got all shy and flustered. Which one he likes more, he couldn’t tell. "Oh, I'll be so nice to you tonight you won't be able to stand it." he purred, his voice low and husky. 

He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. "But I have one condition, little miss."

“What is that?” She questioned, unsure what it could be. With him, it could be anything.

"You have to promise me that if I'm being too... forward, you'll tell me to back off. I don't want to overstep. Even though I want to kiss you until you can't think straight. So promise me you'll speak up if I get too much." 

Her smile widened, nodding in agreement. He’d just earned himself quite a few points. Never had she expected him to be as respectful as he was, but she utterly adored it.  “I will. I promise, I’ll tell you.” She agreed, leaning up to kiss the curve of his jaw. “But it’s time for you to eat. I can feel your tummy grumbling.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering over her pretty face. He loved the way her smile widened, and the feeling of her plump lips against his jaw send a shiver down his spine. More. He wanted more, and more, until their mouths were tingling and numb. Until she looked drunk on the kisses, clinging to him like he could only hope.

"Mmm. Okay, fine." he grumbled. "I'll eat. But only if you feed me, since you were so kind as to order ahead for me." He gave her a puppy-dog look, his lower lip jutted out in a mock-pout. It was good, she’s give him that- but not good enough.

“Absolutely not.” She snorted. “Nice try.”

[gangplanksorenji]

Magnitude

Pairing: LE SSERAFIM’s Chaewon x Male Reader ft. ITZY’s Yeji

Word Count: 13,912

A/N: Hallo again Orenjideul! I don't know what or who possessed me to write this yet here we are. Thanks to @kooyabooya for betareading and the insights! Enjoy reading and hope you like this one! god this is the longest i've ever written i would need some nice hibernative lobotomy right after.

A sequel to Pulchritude

---------------------

---------------------

“Wait, this feels good—what’s happening?”

You’re in this lucid state, feeling everything is written to your own fate—you have the pen, writing your own story onto your own book yet this one feels different, and it’s more than this reality.

You break into this trance, cracking the code and guess what, the culprit was just a meter away, and down to your southern peripherals.

A faint blur distracts you from your drowsy state, far from regaining the peak state of your senses as you involuntarily call her name and hear her little chuckle. You wouldn’t expect waking up to such a delightful sight and moreover, making yourself closer to the edge.

“Hope you didn’t mind this—sorry for waking you up…” Yeji’s gaze shoots a primal instinct up in your spine, an instinct somewhat close to arousal as you quickly regain your senses to assess the situation that’s been happening.

“Hah—you’re clearly in need, Yeji.” Your voice feels raspy that usual and it’s no surprise. She smiles while still maintaining her eye contact, knowing that there’s no world she wouldn’t agree with. 

You’re in a vulnerable state, laying down as she audaciously coursed its way towards your nether region and it was clear what her need is. You could only succumb onto the pleasure she brings in every flick, twist and inevitable kiss. Her mouth never fails to amaze you and with such overwhelming factors with her expertise, it didn’t become long before your hands found the ginger blur and surprisingly, she stopped you from a leverage that just made everything fall down into utter deprivation.

It is the best of both worlds: shooting up gratification up your spine and inability to handle the situation better through a defenseless state, her body poised to assert control over you.

“No—not now—” Yeji’s hands were fast enough to stop you, and you could only utter a symphony of moans, mouth slightly agape as she continued her prowess. “—relax and let me do the work for you.”

Those words latched with lust and it illuminates on those very eyes of hers. You know this will be a long day full of secrets and surprises and for sure, it will be.

---

It’s probably the addiction that settles within her, unable to make herself deprived from the taste of you and you just succumb to her control, feeling every nerve in you invigorated with her pleasurable maw.

She takes it all and it earns a moan coming out of you, Yeji gleefully taking it as a signal to even elevate the experience and god, she doesn’t disappoint. She glides her mouth all throughout your length, glistening it with her spit and slobbering over it like it’s her last meal. There’s something about the way her pace compliments her techniques—not too fast, not too slow and focusing on how you derive pleasure, not hers.

You’d never get tired of this.

“God—fuck, that’s great Yeji…” You moan and she takes it as a compliment, dancing her tongue all over that insatiable muscle, never withdrawing and ultimately pleasing. 

You run your hands throughout her ginger hair, opting for leverage for her immaculate display of talent as she pulls up another trick that makes you weak—fondling those balls dying for a release.

She releases, and drives her attention onto those, suckling each one as she strokes your cock, making it hardly stiff and it throbs with the cool air the room permeates. You uncontrollably elicit streams of groans and pleas, calling out her name as the pleasure is stimulating you up to your limit and thankfully, you’re able to cope and fight.

“I’d need to start off the day with one hell of a breakfast.” You heard it loud and clear, and she’s not going to play, making up for the sluggishness she's shown earlier, taking you hard and fast and that was your breaking point.

You can’t even acknowledge everything she probably said as your sensitivity increases, feeling her simple touch could break you at any given moment. Her rapidly bobbing picture falls a little blur to you, just totally focused on succumbing onto the pleasure and you fall down deeper into the abyss, her in full control.

She looks at you, seeing your eyes closed, mouth able to just repeatedly groan makes her smile evidently even with your length fully plunged inside her tight throat. Her hands work like magic, around your spit-sheathed length, putting you up in a spell where you’ll ascend in no time and you can’t fathom how she’s great at everything like this—it’s heavenly sinful and rightfully wrong, because you could just feel her mouth parting away from your head and you don’t want it to end like that.

You surely hit the jackpot meeting a girl like Yeji, perfect in every inch and ultimately talented in various ways, mostly regarding the intimate scope of things but you could just assume there’s more to know about this girl. 

She gives you another chaste kiss, making you shudder in response as she utters a proposition you can’t properly decide, and it’s not helpful with the way her hands glide with such a moderate pace and the constant fondling of those balls that’s needing to be drained.

“I have options for you—thinking really opportunistically here, y’know?” Yeji’s elbows rested onto the mattress, laying onto her stomach as she didn’t stop her strokes, eyes gazed onto yours as she demanded an answer. “Would you want me to finish you, right down my throat or… ride you until you spill everything inside me—your choice.”

You’d die for a woman like her riding you like it’s her last, feeling that weight on her slam against you as she does all the work but you can’t miss out of that heavenly mouth of hers—she possibly have sucked you for god knows how long but it’s your drug that you can’t get enough.

Even with a clouded mind, the verdict was clearly decided without any hesitation.

Partly missing out of her expected tarnation with her walls clenching around you for like the third time, you utters words that seals the deal. “Your mouth, Yeji—can’t get enough of it.”

It was crystal clear and she didn’t waste time parting her lips against your swollen head again, clearly hungry for your taste as she enthusiastically thrusted herself with a pace unparalleled than before, full on the throttle. Her hands rests onto your thighs, a leverage for a greater velocity she’s evidently consistent of, not turning back as she knows how you’re getting closer to the promised land.

“Such t-talent you have there, Yeji—fuck!” And it was predominantly factual, your compliments simply fueling her for more as she works both her hands to stimulate whatever she can—those aching balls, ticklish touches and her tongue dancing around was a great element of utter gratification.

You melt under her touch, completely indulged to the pleasure as her eyes widen, feeling your persistent throbs a sign of your nearing orgasm and she doubles her efforts, hollowing her cheeks to emit a vacuum that elevates the pressure, driving you onto the edge with pace. With her commendable performance breaking your reservoir loose, you call out her name and this time, it’s different and it’s primal call for your utter need.

“Yeji—Yeji, I can’t t-take it any longer…” She knows this and she utilizes your exasperated state in bliss, not even responding to your words as she plunges her mouth deeper, nose flushed onto your abdomen as you groan beautifully. The signal was a carnal call of delight, releasing every spurt down her walls as she gags repeatedly because of it, fighting the urge to withdraw but was unsuccessful in the end. She chokes a little, coughing a little of your cum before her fingers catch it, not wasting a single drop and tasting it with a face so sullied it makes it even harder.

Her idyllic visage showing her ultimate work being a complete mess wins it all, and her day has never been better and it’s just the start of it.

“Thanks for the ‘breakfast’ you gave me—its taste never fails…” Of course it never does, fingers licking signifying utter satisfaction on Yeji’s end.

You know she swallowed it all, like the good girl that she has been all throughout the time you’ve met her. She continued cleaning you off, tongue swirling in every centimeter aiming to tidy the mess she made as her constant slurps derives the sultriest moans in you. The sensitivity is on the roof as her touch is kryptonite and with your softening cock, she knows her business is now over and let the both of you appreciate each other’s beauty for another time.

“You’re crazy at that, Yeji.”

Yeji chuckles, smiling sincerely enough to make you in awe as her crescent-like eyes accentuates her striking and beautiful face. “I just can’t help it—I already missed the taste of your cock.”

You shake your head and laughed a little, her words making you feel butterflies as the feeling are mutual, but you needed to really start the day in an acceptable fashion and can’t stay all day fucking each other’s brains out. 

“You know what, Yeji? Let’s actually get some real breakfast.”

“Yeah, you’re right…” She stands up, and away from the bed as you follow, raising your shorts up as the both of you get yourselves ready for another day, sun greeting you out as it shines once you open the window.

You never thought this would be such a riled-up start, yet you won’t complain if it’s the Hwang Yeji that greets you, the first thing your eyes would see.

---

It was surely such an exhilarating way to kick off your day, commencing her with the sloppiest morning blowjob (maybe minus the morning, it’s actually the sloppiest she’s ever been, and even your whole life) and a delectable breakfast, and it’s worth remembering as she earned her place. Hence the invigorating and promising fragments of an experience meet the inevitable obstacles, your own endeavors and your mind going in circles around it and it’s time to kill the cat for that curiosity, as they say.

You just end up on her balcony, frantically uncomfortable about the fact that she’s still not texting you—you’d say you overthink too much, but it’s a natural state of mind when it comes to being cognizant.

“Come on, come on—pick up the damn phone…” You let out breaths of impatience, tapping your foot as the constant ringing of the phone in your ear puts you in an anxious situation.

You can’t possibly wait for more hours until it’s the afternoon or whenever the sun sets because of anticipation and desperation. You walk around in circles around Yeji’s balcony as the constant ringing still lingers onto your eardrums and eventually, it ends up not in your favor.

“Why won’t she just answer my goddamn call—”

“Hey!” Yeji gleefully calls you behind the sliding door, slightly ajar as she seems worried with your agitated demeanor. “You should probably just give up on who you’re calling to—it’s been like seven minutes?”

“Yeji, this one is important.” Your voice is stern and composed but it wouldn’t break her thoughts of interrupting you.

“More important than me?” You heard her loud and clear, merely a meter away from her and that tone just exudes the spell you can’t quite fight: submission and breaking your temptation.

As much as it hurts to say that both sides are as important as it is, your soft side tends to prevail, sugarcoating a response that wouldn’t hurt her. “Both are, Yeji but like, now is not the ti—”

She closes the door gently, then inches closer towards you with a reassuring stare and caresses onto your shoulder “Come on—don’t stress yourself that much…” She then motioned herself onto your back as your eyes followed her movements, gazed fixated onto hers as her mouth inches near to your earlobe, whispering words of abstaining yourself to further tension. “Because you know what can happen if you are overdoing yourself too much and it won’t be great for you.”

She has a valid point and you’re in this state of recollection with her words of wisdom. Her slight massages on your back with her hands eases up the built-up pressure you’ve had since minutes ago and with a quick conclusion, you know she is right. “Yeah, hah… you’re right—I’m just—I just want to know what’s up with her.”

“Her?” Yeji’s seductiveness quickly fades from a piqued expression, curious about who you are calling and who she is. “Who’s her? Is it your girlfriend? Oh fuck—I’m sor—”

“Hey, hey, it’s fine.” You stop Yeji with your reassuring tone, gesturing to calm her down and there’s nothing to worry about. Such a roller coaster of events unshackled within seconds and with the tables being turned, you can’t help but feel to let off a little chuckle, and it’s even ignited with Yeji’s furrowed eyebrows and worried face of hers. “It’s really hard to explain, y’know? But just don’t worry that much about her, okay?”

“Yeah, okay… Also—” She nods before that, then Yeji’s countenance shifted onto an evident curiosity, feeling that her nerves are connecting the dots too well. “Was she the girl I saw you with at the bar yesterday?”

You almost forgot that you would totally steal glances with her at that time, luckily all being unnoticed by Chaewon (if she even cared if you caught glances with her coquette nature yesterday). You’re impressed with her adaptability to assume things that’s almost right, and there’s nothing to lie about with the given skill of hers.

“Yeah, she’s her. It’s nothing much though—we’re literally just friends.” It's a double-edged lie that you’d live with anyday, mostly on these times without a favorable conclusion to enclose onto a selected status. Like you said, her role in your life is pretty complicated in ways you can’t even explain and you won’t make yourself a burden to dissect every detail to Yeji.

Even if you had the chance, you won’t really bother to.

You dismissed the current topic and just continued to admire her pulchritude. Your stare could melt her as she smiles with a genuine lace of joy, then kissing the nape of your neck as she opens up about an experience. “Yeah, okay—I’m sorry though ‘cause like, you’re too hot to the point that I can’t resist you.”

Looking over your shoulder, her siren eyes probably does wonders over you and with that stare, you just can’t help but do the same. “The feelings are mutual, Yeji.”

You then face her and cupped her cheeks, initiating a torrid kiss that was fueling your desires over her, and they won once again. She quickly reciprocates and deepened the kiss, feeling such entanglement that yearns for need and gives out such pleasure. Your hands involuntarily seeks its way onto her waist, and her hands onto the back of your head, feeling the tension growing before pulling out of her embrace, breaking the trance which earns a definite whine escaping her lips. 

“Why’d you pull out?”

“Sorry, Yeji—” As much as it hurts to stop, you would want to as there are more endeavors important than this, and you’ll hope she understands it. “—I’ll meet someone this afternoon and I gotta go home and get myself ready.”

Yeji lets out a sigh, her hot breath brushing on your nostrils as she meets you eyes one more time, glowing with sincerity and understanding about the possible situation. “I don’t need to bother you for more time then…” 

You smile, relieved she won’t bear much of a nuisance to make you expound your reasonings. “Sorry again, Yeji—I’ll call you whenever all of this is over.”

Yeji paints a sly smile, the latter sending her limbics into delight and anticipation, knowing that you’ll be connected with hers as soon as you can. “Yeah, sure—just don’t stress that much, hm?”

It’s perplexing with such a thoughtful development over the span of hours since you met her, maybe of the reasons rewarding enough to be cherished or the intimate inkling deepening within the second. You fix your jacket, nodding reassuringly as you waved goodbye and mouthing the words See you soon before you close the sliding door.

As you were leaving her room and out of her place, you can’t help but think of what you’ve done with her yesterday and earlier this morning. With an emotion unparalleled from ever before, you let out little laughs and words of still and evident bewilderment. 

“She’s insatiable, it’s crazy.”

---

Thankfully, there wasn’t anything distracting you while driving your way home, not even the fact of a mental battle on keeping both hands on the wheel, eyes on the road while a slobbering mess is between your legs (this was supposed to happen and this was just a delusional imaginative outcome, but to your defense, you weren’t ready for such a risk costing more than what you could fathom).

Preparing yourself for what’s bound to come, you take some time to reflect on what you’ve been into—a mess worth indulging in, barely able to clean it up since the second it was ruined. As you were spraying that strong-scented perfume up the collar of your polo, your attention was diverted onto the buzz of your phone which to no surprise, is her.

kim_chaewon at 1:57 - “Meet me at the hotel where I told you to go and say the room number I told you to go, under my name, to the concierge. 4 PM, sharp and don’t you dare be late.”

Glad you have enough time for preparation but deep inside, you’re a bit conflicted on why she would send such vague details and tell them late. Well, it’s maybe of the twists and games she loves to play against you, and you won’t be surprised if she does call you and say something stupid—

“Ah shit—” Chaewon is calling you, and you knew this was going to be part of a well-written plan of hers. You know how things can boil down into the toxic pit of selfishness and need, and you can’t quite escape her leash because of you being the puppet under her string and it’s incredibly unhealthy—you want her, no, you fucking like her and her attitude wouldn’t stop you from proving her why you’re worth something more than what she’s used to see.

“You better stop calling on times like that—you know I’m still on my beauty slumber, tch.” Chaewon’s irk laced within her voice through the phone is evident and it was nothing less than expected. You gulp nervously as she lets her temper out within the phone and knowing it’s becoming too annoying, you wouldn’t sip your mouth and let her be as commanding as she is.

“Chaewon, I just wanted to ask you about it!” You raise your voice, fed up as Chaewon falls silent. You count to three, then swallow, feeling the instant regret with what you’ve done. “God, I’m sorry but you can’t keep me hanging on a thread like that.”

“What are you even trying to prove? I’ve already texted you about it, didn’t I?” It is true, but you’re trying to point out things that will probably develop her uphill and knowing her skull is as hard as titanium, your words aren’t able to penetrate through her brain to register and listen. 

You can’t fathom why you liked her in the first place, feelings probably mutual as it was deemed to be such a wicked relationship that’s even confusing. She wasn’t yours, yet but it’s only a matter of time before a verdict comes up, marking Chaewon as your territory and yours only. The roads you’re tackling stresses you out, considering how you grew something with Yeji and how divergent these are, making you suffer yet your mind yearns for both of them, can’t quite compute and let go of the other.

You are the problem, but they’re a drug you can’t quite stop to take.

You fall silent and Chaewon asserts her dominative approach with your lack of response. “See? You should trust me sometimes; I wouldn’t fail you as much as you don’t fail me. See ya’ later, I’ll even make myself appear prettier than what you think…” 

The latter is true—even if she doesn’t say so, her beauty is off the charts, alluring at its best—and somewhat, the former should be reconsidered for a while. Even with an unreadable mind that Chaewon possesses, it’s natural to be skeptical with her ways of controlling you (somewhat) but sometimes, you have to think optimistically and trust her. You’re just gaslighting yourself into thinking that she’s maybe right in every way, even if it means to dive you into a risk.

You faintly say your goodbyes as she hangs up immediately, letting out a breath as you’re punishing yourself for such a minimal act of regret. “Well, I shouldn’t have done that but this should be fine…”

As you should, it’s not a big deal on her end possibly and she’s not that kind of an immature, selfish woman that would take your little outbursts like something as a threat.

---

The staggering heights of the buildings around made such a metropolitan experience complete, and it’s even elevated with the luxurious ambiance the hotel exudes as you went inside it, the lobby doing wonders to enthrall its guests. 

You wouldn’t really waste time being in awe with the glamorous chandelier or the exquisite art the tiles have because you have a goal in mind: meet her at the designated time, not a second off or sooner. 

You roll off your sleeve, fixing yourself by a little as you advance towards the front desk, approaching the concierge as he meets you with a smile in which you subtly appreciate.

“Hello, excuse me—yeah. Room 018, for Ms. Kim Chae-won?”

His eyes widened, even enthusiastic as he was more eager to help you as soon as he heard the number of the room. “Oh yes sir, a presidential suite? I’ll just check the room again for further security and… may I get your name?”

You then say your name as you wait patiently, the concierge tapping onto the screen multiple times after he informs you that you’re now able to access the room. 

“And you’re set, sir! Here’s the card and that will be on the 40th floor.”You then thank him as he gestures a bow, uttering the words Enjoy, sir as you take the elevator hurriedly, tapping the buttons and getting in it as soon as they open.

You’re not going to sugarcoat it—you’re nervous. Feeling it onto an extent underlying anticipation more than the deterioration of confidence. It was a natural instinct when discovering new heights, and you reassure yourself with that given fact within the second you’re a floor higher. It was quick, less than a minute since there wasn’t a stop and you could only sigh as the elevator dings and opens.

You traverse down the corridor as the signs help in which way the rooms are. Left then right, walk a couple of steps and there meets the lair of the vixen—the room where anything could possibly happen, every achievable outcome that could possibly come into life.

You knock at the door, signaling your presence as you unlock the door with the card the concierge gave you, and there she is, at the other end, in all black of an outfit, facing opposite from you as the dark bob accentuates elegance and sophistication, before spinning her chair and welcoming you. 

Chaewon looks at the time on her phone, raising an eyebrow as she leisurely nodded. “Not too bad for you, hm? Take a seat, please.”

You then walked your way inside, aiming to sit on the couch as soon as she glared with a subtle gesture of her head, uttering something, “No, sit here—beside me.” Her index finger points onto the tall stool at the center table besides hers and you advance towards it, then facing her, your eyes scanning every inch of her impeccable features.

This kind of wardrobe is new to your eyes, and it’s a sight to see a refreshing set of fashion that was clearly unfamiliar at most times—you’d say she’ll almost let a skin on her exposed whenever she dresses up and will almost make herself look hotter than hell. You’re always vocal when complimenting her and you wouldn’t impede such flowery words from spilling out of your mouth. “God, Chaewon, this fit looks great on you—it truly is.”

She smiles with your words, you eyes telling the truth as she stares at them and of course, this is the best way to start the day with her. “Of course I do—” She proceeds to make a move, standing up, drawing herself closer to you as her eyes dart towards your chest and onto your eyes, letting you know how much she appreciates you being here even though it’s barely vocalized. “You look great too, honestly.” 

Chaewon’s close—dangerously close, inches away as you drown onto those alluring eyes of hers, getting lost into the dark abyss it holds and your next move wasn’t surprising to say the least: your hands making its way towards the hem of her blazer, and onto her slender, tight waist as her hands stop you, lips parted as she shook her head lightly, enough to bring you the message. “Well, that’s reserved for later—”

“How so? We’re already here—”

She interrupts you with an audible shh, smirking enticingly as her disposition is clearly ambiguous, and you can’t quite tell where she’ll indulge you. “You’re still up to my test—we’re still not done and you’ll have your reward when you’ve proven yourself.”

“Prove myself? Aren’t those enough of a statement?” You’re in little disbelief, shaking your head as you feel your efforts yesterday weren't enough and she knows it. 

Speaking of that, you should probably ask her about what you’ve done yesterday, assuming she might have eyes on you secretly that you weren’t aware of. You’re probably deluded to think about how she could do that to you but yet again, Chaewon’s that kind of girl.

Possibly set aside these thoughts and snap yourself into reality with her words. “I’ll just say it again—we’re still not done, am I right?”

You sigh, embracing defeat as her point is valid and true, and you won’t break the rules nor a promise between both parties. “You’re right, Chaewon, okay?”

“Of course I am.” Hubristically speaking, she knows she is right, even if you admit her confidence was doing the talking. She then distances herself from you, seating on her stool, picking some grapes for her plate as she munches on them, then inviting you to join her. “Help yourself here; grapes, juices, water or some biscuits—anything that can treat your hunger.”

You’re in little disbelief and hypocrisy, unsure on what she’s implying “What? I’m not that hungr—”

“Hey—” Chaewon shows a discontented demeanor, knowing lying through your teeth wouldn’t help you nor defend anything. “—if your stomach ain’t yearning, screaming for it to be fed then I wouldn’t say that otherwise.”

She draws the plate of grapes towards you with her hands, raising an eyebrow, signaling you to get some and help yourself. You wouldn't say another no because she knows you’ll be lying again, so you picked a couple and tossed one in your mouth, feeling the sour and sugary essence of the fruit revitalizing you, little by little.

“You’ll need energy for later—” Chaewon says, as she takes a sip from her glass full of some blueberry juice, looking at you with a seductive intent. “—and this—this will be a long day, for both of us.”

You’re clearly in the mood to set up a fire between the both of you, imagining the possible futures within both your accords—mostly Chaewon’s, but you won’t be bothered by that. “For now, you gotta help me shop for a—”

“Wait, Chaewon—” With all the introductory endeavors set for the both of you, you interrupt her with simple words that have been ringing in your brain since yesterday. “—may I ask you a question?”

Chaewon scoffs a breath, eyes interested with what you’re going to ask her. “Go on.”

“According to the text yesterday, how did you know?” It was straightforward, a little vague but she got what you’re asking her. It’s flummoxing knowing how she can act like a prophet but in reality, it wasn’t, and you’d like to know the reason behind such an act.

“Ahh—that?” She sips again, exhaling a fresh, fruity breath as her tone is more vibrant but still laced with her usual elegance. “Well, it’s a simple trick up my sleeve and I know you wouldn’t find suspicion through it.”

You scrunch your eyebrows by a little, a little confused on what she’s implying but you thought of a concept. “Did you just wait for me outside? What does this me—”

“Well, here’s the thing: I pretend to leave the bar and you didn't even notice if my figure was behind the door as soon as your eyes darted for someone. I watched from a distance, disguising myself against the flickering lights the stage provides and the dimness of the surroundings—” Chaewon leans into you, closer as your lips are inches against your ear. “—and I watched the both of you.” And then after that voice of her tickling you slightly, sending shivers down your spine, she leans onto her stool, but not enough for her to fall—just balanced. 

“That’s all? Could never know you can be such a voyeur—”

“Not really and yes, I like watching people go all out while I just sit there and let them unveil their true nature. Well—” Chaewon clears her throat, fixing her blazer and she isn’t done, her doe eyes hypnotizing you, making you listen under her dulcet voice. “—I saw the way you talked to her, those subtle glances and fun between your words was enough to make a conclusion—you passed the test. As soon as the both of you got up to your seats, went up to the balcony with god knowing what you'll do to her—oh…” She gets up again from her seat, facing you closer with her head slightly raised and there her breath tingling against your lips, brushing against your nose. “I know exactly what you would be up to. I wouldn’t waste my precious time watching you even from afar and let yourself be redeemed with what you can do.”

Your eyes are just fixated towards her, earning a little gulp from your throat due to her intimidating demeanor. “You’ve impressed me ever so slightly… And let me ask a question in return.”

Still inches away from her, you would just embrace what she’ll ask as you’re not in any authority to decline what her lips may escape. “What is it?”

“Did you fuck her?”

A question enough to stun you, reek fear within your skin as you can’t decipher her—it’s your kryptonite: her nuanced emotions unable to make your wonders be applied in certain situations. Was this still part of a test? Did she read your brain easily to come up with an assumption too right? It is an aligned possibility, these questions will be answered by her, and it’s for you to embrace it.

“Fuck… her? Why would you think I f—”

“I asked you a question—” Chaewon sips another desirable amount of that liquid, before smashing the glass a little too hard on the marbled table that made you feel a little nervous. “—didn’t I?”

Yes. Chaewon asked a question and all you need to do is answer it, plain and simple. You can’t dodge the mere thought of detouring the topic or even at least acting oblivious—the little shivers on your bottom lip says otherwise, and the defensiveness of your tone doesn't help with your persuasion. “But h-how are you even sur—”

“Okay, you don’t need to tell me anything anymore and don’t worry—” Chaewon’s hands caresses your waist, feeling a little tingle up onto your groin as her touch enables you into a reassuring plane, fending off the stress out of your body as the latter words falls right onto your ears. “—I won’t even be mad if you did it because I know you did and god, she’s pretty and sexy. Sometimes, you gotta be studied, y’know?”

Chaewon is steps ahead of you, as lying was too obvious to be kept shackled. You’re still unsure, feeling a little tick in your brain saying that she’s maybe just playing games with you and her emotions aren’t as sincere as you thought it would be as soon as she said those words.

“You’re not mad? Or anything?”

Chaewon sighs, a stoic expression paints her face as you find her deceiving and confusing. “So you admit that you fucked her, hm?”

“I didn’t say that I—” Chaewon’s fed up with your lies and she had to do something if she wanted to make a word for herself. Shutting you up with her hand, your eyes widen as you try to writhe, but you know that’s putting a nail to your coffin, and just being immobilized is the way to brush this off. Her disappointed and infuriated stare towards you earns another struggling gulp from you, which she took it down as a sign of asserting her dominance. 

“Another lie, I’ll make you see who the fuck I am.” It was churlish and candid, and you just nod in response, fearful that another volcano may spew out its anger. She smirks in total control, as she releases her hand onto your mouth and impressively, she returns onto her intimidatingly stoic and sophisticated demeanor, then continuing what you interrupted earlier. “Shall we explore and shop, hm? I’ll even treat you if you want…”

Of course, all you can do is nod and utter, “How could I resist that?” in which she likes and it’s genuine with her smile.

She’s right in every way—this day would be long for the both of you and you’re ready for what's about to come.

---

Expensive bags, new shoes, fashionable clothes, exquisite dinners and kilometer-long walks around the malls could never go wrong and all so right. It was a time well-spent between the both of you as it’s been a while since you’ve had some wholesome moments with her, even just in the slightest bits of it. 

This was just the tip of the iceberg because she has more in store for you, and a great way to end the night is in another place where it concludes down into madness, and it’s just the best of both worlds. 

“Really? In another club, Chaewon? We’ve been onto something like this yesterday…” You’re a bit disappointed it will all end up on this note, probably walking out with a drunk-dazed state and the absolute predicament: you having to carry Chaewon out because of such a drunken state you can’t tell.

Let’s just hope this thing of hers never meets that fate.

“Hey! It’s pretty great here honestly—I heard their snacks are top-tier, so I wanted to try it and let me tell you, yesterday was a bar, not that.” Chaewon corrects you and persuades you with all her might and you, a puppet, can merely do anything to reject her advances and honestly, she’s maybe up to something you can’t quite tell. 

“Same thing, Chaewon—”

“Hey it’s not! Also—” Chaewon tiptoes a little, brushing her lips oh-so close onto your earlobes as her breath whispers, “—I wanted to try something, in correlation to my final verdict.”

Well, if this is what it takes to prove yourself, then maybe you just need to embrace it.just need to ride with her highs.

“Let’s get in—I already reserved a seat for us both.” You then follow Chaewon, showing an actual identification card to the bouncer and traversing towards the dim hallway where the fun begins, and it’s already lingering within your eardrums with the ebullient sounds of such music. 

You anticipate with what she has in store, in full trust under her own accord as here it goes, an adventure of a lifetime.

---

You wouldn’t say an adventure, moreso, a memory but this one is audacious, risky and adventurous. Chaewon’s advancements towards elevating an experience is merely a branch in boredom, but rather, a connection towards amusement—her brain somewhat makes up such exhilarating events to be experienced, most likely in ways unorthodox to others.

The common noise didn’t get your sense preoccupied, taking onto the mouthwatering cheese-flavored nachos, crushing two pieces of it and licking your fingers due to its flavorful taste, then averting your eyes towards Chaewon as she calls your name. “What is it this time?”

“Enjoying the food, hm?”

“You know, Chaewon?” You fix your seat as the boisterous music distracts you slightly, a little bothered but that doesn’t faze the fact that she’s heard things right. “You’re right as I think about it—the food here is delicious. You seem to be enjoying your drink a lot, huh?”

Chaewon chuckles a little as she covers her mouth, flipping her hair as her features astound you, elegant even with her subtle actions. “Of course, a tangy and sweet cocktail could always go right—no doubts.” She then takes a hurried sip, the concoction hitting just right as she feels refreshed and satisfied. As the both of you are comfortable eating, a thought in your brain ignites, a shard from the earlier remarks that was left unattended until this very second.

“You said you wanted to try something, right, Chaewon?”

Her pupils dilate, lips slightly parted as she places down the glass down the table, and piques her total attention. “Oh well, about that…” She places down her purse on the table, crossing her legs as she shifts onto her smug behavior, confidence seeping out in every breath she exhales. “We gotta take this somewhere else—somewhere no one can see us.”

Those words alone were a fragment of utter lust and anticipation and you can’t miss that out. Her aphrodisiac tone was enough to invite, moreso her gestures that concluded the start of an act. 

You smile, a slight one laced with expectations defying heights. “Lead the way then and I’ll show you something too.”

You’ll let her but you’d like to finish anything first so you’ll have enough energy left in the tank, if it goes the other way you’ll expect.

---

It’s probably the climax of the music that was faint on both your ears, the room sequestering the background noise enough to avert your attention towards her. You take a moment to scrutinize her features, every inch a candy to your own liking.

Your hands finally ran onto her waist, caressing it a little as you eye on her with such admiration. “This outfit is just too good for you, Chaewon.”

Chaewon chuckles, and the both of you meet eyes as she replies with your piece of a broken eulogy. “You’ve said it for like ten times—you really liked it, huh?”

You shook your head, letting her know there’s more for her to be aware of. “No, Chaewon—I fucking loved it—everything—I won’t shut up about this.”

“But you can make me.” Her breath shudders once you hold your other hand onto the hem of her pants, feeling the curve of her butt inviting you to fondle it deeper but you resist, just how she wanted for now. 

“I’ve always wanted to say this for a long time now and for your final test…” Your eyes scintillate in lust and excitement, feeling her words will line up to the thoughts you’re thinking. “Break me.”

Break her. 

Seven letters, two words, numerous implications that can underlie an ambiguous approach that could always defy expectations. Here’s the thoughts you managed to come up with: either she wants you to break her in half (metaphorically) with your cock or break her usual classy, sophisticated demeanor.

Both can be applied, and it’s up to your own accord since you know you’re in control right now, Chaewon slowly submitting to you.

And it wasn’t even a second before she couldn't resist herself—you’d just feel her swollen lips meeting yours, entangling into such fervor no one can match. The taste of her lips is succulent and you're addicted to it—the apple-flavored does wonders, but it’s mostly the fact about the delightful chemicals messing up with your brain, optimistic and yearning for more.

Her arms rest on your shoulders, as yours caresses her waist, feeling every inch of her porcelain skin and how smooth it is everytime you caress it. It was a little platonic at first, but when you reciprocated deeply, you know there’s more than that and she knows it.

It hurts, but she needs to pull out to catch her breath and to clear her headspace because this wasn’t part of her plan—it was evident she got carried away, her actions tell those otherwise.

“Why the fuck do you always kiss me so good?”

You laugh, an evident hubris on your face that she found slightly annoying but there’s nothing she can do. “Maybe I just can’t help it that I’m kissing the Kim Chaewon. ”

A name worth remembering, and you absolutely will as she’s a remarkable and paramount part of your life now. 

“Shut up—can’t fucking wait to feel you inside me—” She’s impatient, vocally frustrated as you’re not fulfilling her desires. You always know how she always gets what she wants, having authority to make everyone her puppet but this time, the tables will be turned in your favor and you’d be smiling standing on your own ivory tower. “—what are you waiting for?”

“Patience, Chaewon—patience…”

“The hell do you mean patience—ow!” A harsh spank brings sting onto her, enough for her to feel and for anyone to hear but it’s muffled thanks to the clothing of her pants that you’re dying to undress. “Look at you—spanking me hard now, huh?”

“Yes.” You’re imperative and stern, gaining authority over her slowly as she’s starting to snap herself to reality. “And I wouldn’t hesitate to do so because I know you like this.”

You know she does, even loving it as it starts with her biting her lower lip with such a slap was enough for a conclusion.

“God, I always liked this, y’know?”

“Getting handled in a restroom?” 

“Not exactly that—” She inches closer towards you again, looking from left to right as her actions draws attention for you to be all ears. “—it’s mostly the fun of a risk—risking to be caught while I get pounded into oblivion.”

You sigh, a sinister smile curling your lips as this fetish of hers is somewhat amusing, to say the least. “You wouldn’t mind getting caught? Let the world know how much of a slut you can be?”

Here’s the thing: you’re trying to prove a point here, risking a reputation for the people who don't know you is somewhat important in a way, knowing how privacy can still be important so you’re skeptical of the repercussions of her own lustful nature.

“Don’t worry—” She tilts her head slightly, flashing a genuine countenance which reassures you slightly even with your venomous words that unleashed your other corrupted side. “—all of these fall down into a clandestine ending—just the both of us, nobody else, just us.”

Well, you’re pliant under her spell and you’d like to make her taste with your own medicine yet with all of these, you’re easily persuaded by her. There’s no other way to start such a spectacular act with her words of a green light. “At least getting your cock wet would do such a wonderful thing, won’t it?”

You hitch a breath, agreeing on what she’s about to show as you trust her expertise. “Of course, now do your wonders, Chaewon.”

She pauses, raising an eyebrow as she is probably hesitant with your profounded commanding nature. Of course she’s not used to this, but you’ll love to make a blissful introduction that lets you know that you’re deserving. 

“At least undress yourself for m—ow, ahh, what was that?” It wasn’t a spank this time, rather an aggressive grab onto her wrists, which caught her off-guard. She didn’t retaliate nor glare at you and it was surprising, since her expressions were far from what you expected: showing a faux class, eyes glistening in lust and fading of her so-called sophisticated demeanor. 

“You do it, Chaewon, but not here…” You point to the vacant bathroom stall for further privacy, and as much as she doesn’t care about it, you wouldn’t agree to her terms and had no choice but to follow your own accord.

She looks onto her shoulder, smirking as she knows where this can end. “Want it tight and confined, huh?”

“Hah—of course—” It's probably your guilty pleasure, a thing that should be addressed more often with her as it has its own advantage in favor of you, and you’ll enlighten her about it. “—so it won’t be much of an effort to handle you.”

Chaewon’s apparent shock at your shift of attitude impresses her, and she can’t wait to see what you can show her. “Oho—then let's get started.”

---

It’s rightfully confined, still enough for the both of you to move and her dexterous hands never fails you, undressing the clothing hastily and onto the cold floor. As her hands traverse its way onto your boxers, she asks for a favor in which you find bold considering the given circumstances. “Please hold my purse—”

“No.”

“No?”

“No—you find a way.” She looks up, annoyed with your own authority and the tone that’s laced with it—like you said, you'll get her used to her own doing, her own medicine. She reaches down to the floor to place her purse, only for her wrist to get caught up at the last second, informing her own what she should follow. “You’ll warm up my cock while holding that, is it clear?”

She rolls her eyes, finally grasping the situation as you get up off her nerves yet you didn’t care, not when she wanted that beast inside you for god knows how long. “Fine, whatever you want—yes…”

With only a single defense ready to be worn out, you fix your posture and prepare yourself for the inevitable. The tent only grew larger as she caresses it with care, dainty fingers tracing the outline as you voice out your frustration immediately. “Fucking undress me, Chaewon.”

It’s probably the first she’s been treated like this and this wouldn’t be the last—you’ll let her know how you work your expertise, wonders in the highest of ceilings. 

She complies, nodding as her hands yanks your boxers off and god, the sight—it’s possibly imprinted in her brain even though the mental image of your length is deeply buried within the depths of her mind. 

You moan, the swollen head meeting the cool air permeating in every corner as her hands made your breath shudder in response. “Now suck it.”

You have the vaguest of clues to open up a reliable reasoning—how is she this obedient under your accord when her touch falls you weak on your knees? It’s contradictory and it’s wonderful, a sight worth remembering as your spell falls effective at her end, parting her lips onto your leaking head that would matter at any given moment.

It’s agonizing, torturous and whatever-the-fuck of an abundance of euphemisms you can come up with and it’s gratifying, up your deepest nerves. Her tongue darts and swirls around the mushroom tip, earning moans that you won’t bother shackling and with a given encouragement, she dives deeper as her pace is more evident. She’s talented and gifted, like what she always said between a sexual tension and she doesn’t lie—her lips enough can make a statement, what more about the set of lips—

That’s stored for later but for now, you need to savor the moment until it lasts.

A talented mouth paired with a dancing tongue is almost lethal, making you unable to think straight as she’s way ahead of your league—possibly in a good way, and you’d like to adapt with her skillful oral intermission. 

Yeji and Chaewon could rival each other in terms of technique and pacing, and clearly, Chaewon’s sets of skills was far from the rest and it doesn’t help that she’s taking you deeper, spit covering all over your length as she pulls out, feeling the hint of repugnance that she most likely despises.

“God—fuck, it’s so messy—” Her hurried slurps marks her apparent modesty even in the engagement of such a sinful act and you didn’t care about it—as selfish as you sound, the pleasure your experience should come out in priority. “—you’re ruining my lipstick mar—gwah!”

It wasn’t a struggle fulfilling your desires, not when she’s talking as your cockhead rests between the muscle of her tongue—she gags a little with your profound harshness as she’s evidently caught off-guard with it. She glares and you don't care (again), not when she ups the ante, pace driven with unbridled lust and little-to-no care about the mess she makes.

“What a fucking mouth you have, Chae—” Grunts, moans and subsequent groans leaves your lips as the pace was just right, swirling her tongue as she thrusts herself deeper. The inevitable drool seeping out of her mouth and it dripping onto her pants is the cherry on top—her mouth is just heavenly and perfectly soiled, just how you liked it.

This wasn’t part of the show, on how messy she is—no, this was a pleasurable accident, clearly written thanks to your own accord. She locked her eyes on you, hollowing her cheeks, bobbing frantically and god, the sight is immaculately sinful as every second that passes feels surreal. 

Possibly, you’re thinking selfishly right now and unable to register some sort of concern and why would you be? This is what she wanted anyways, and you won’t stop her until she’s an indistinguishable, sullied mess of a woman between your legs.

She grips your thigh harshly with her right hand, a leverage as she impale her throat with more of you throbbing length. She’s hungry and slobbering over it and the sight was enough for you to meet an unparalleled demise which you would love to happen in the latter stages. Her technique sets up the standard of a spectacular blowjob and you would reckon she’s the best of them all—she could totally rival Yeji, and your judgment couldn’t be reliable since it’s too biased with her mouth hugging your cock tightly.

She takes you in, whole, nose buried onto your abdomen as gags are apparent and to her own experience, she managed to tame it as she displayed her talent once more. Tears flow down her cheek with her own actions, ruining the makeup she probably spent an hour on but it didn’t matter because it’s gradually turning you on.

“God—f-fuck, that’s just great there, Chaewon.” Her patterns of pleasuring you are somewhat predictable and audacious, clearly deprived of your taste as she alternates from taking you all in and her oral expertise.

All great things must come to an inevitable end, despite how successful it became and you can feel it within you.

Chaewon releases her mouth out of your succulent cock, panting as her face is flushed red, the vicinity of her mouth a seeping mess that compliments her pretty visage. “Fuck—I can’t get enough of your cock, y’know that?” Of course it’s rhetorical as she repeatedly slurps on your shaft, standing up to the words she spilled. 

As much as it hurts to put an end to this show of hers, it would be a great decision as you’re dying to live up to the main climax of events that would be surely worth both of your time.

Well, you guess she likes to dance while she party, but this would be the last dance for the day, for now.

“Chaewon…” You call out her name, falling deaf on her ears as the music of her slurps and slobbering outpowers it. You’d like to make her hear the message loud and coherently, clearing your throat and raising your voice. “Chaewon!”

Her pace gradually slows down, hindered with your voice as she pulls out and meets eyes with you again, back to her unbothered demeanor even though it’s all sullied with her spit and her makeup due to the tears she made. “Dying to fuck me, hm?”

“Get up.” Not even acknowledging her question, you’re straightforward with it, your words enough to build up an answer because she made you feel this way. “Hands against the wall, bend over and don't do anything stupid.”

She’s ready to comply even though there’s doubt permeating all over her—she hates being commanded yet this is her guilty pleasure and you’re glad being on the front row of such a rare find. Rhapsodies of anticipation glisten on her eyes as soon as you meet them into a distant contact, and you just know how much she’s liking this. You detest the confined spaces, the limited movement impossible to experiment on things but this an exhilarating challenge and you can’t wait to start it.

“That should be my line—ow!” Her voluptuous butt gets another spank in which she deeply appreciates despite her glare towards you as she looks back, onto her shoulder. You drool with a magnificent sight of her backside accentuated thanks to the tight, black pants she wore, caressing each side of each which earned a moan coming out of Chaewon’s mouth.

“Strip it out, p-please.” She’s pleading now, desperate for your touch and clearly breaking that class that’s in her. There’s no class in such a sinful circumstance, and Chaewon knows it well, not giving any fuck is she got to be the messiest she’s ever been.

You tease her, darting your fingers slowly to the edge of her ass, tugging the clothing that made her elicit a small whimper, and then teasing your index finger near her nether region. The heat it emanates makes your cock throb, imagining how spoiled she’s been under her garments.

She’s utterly frustrated, gritting her teeth and losing her patience by the second. “What the fuck are you doing—ow!”

“I’m in control here, Chaewon—” You lean on her after another spank, letting her know that all she needs to do is obey as she’s powerless against your own control. “—and I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.”

Her breath quivers, a sigh right after as she’s enlightened enough to shut herself from complaints for the time being. “Okay, j-just fucking strip me please—god, please—ow!”

Another one, striking her twice as hard within your own volition—a choice to punish her repeated protests. She whimpers with your roughness, feeding pleasure through the pain and as much as you don’t want to agree with her, you need to have a sight of those delectable ass and thighs of hers that’s been dying to be touched by you (possibly).

Finding the zipper of her pants, she yelps with your cold touch meeting her skin and as much as she wants to help you, she rests her hands completely onto the wall because there’s nothing that she can do but to embrace the unstoppable force. 

You could only think of the numerous complains she has on her mind right now, and you’re going to fuck it out of her—you live up to a promise, marking your words.

Finally, you peel the clothing off, smoothly undressing it and down to her ankles as you mentally drool over the meal that’s served in front of you. 

Your fingers course its way onto her radiating heat, earning an inviting moan as she’s too easy to read now. “Fucking wet, huh? I knew you’d always be like this around me.”

Chaewon struggles a little due to the pleasure streaming down within her but manages to articulate words with even the hint of elegance and vulgarity. “Who wouldn’t be this fucking wet if it weren’t for that big dick of yours, hm?”

You feed your ego—she’s right, factual as it's evident whenever she sees your promised treasure being savored by her.

You peel off that black-laced thong of hers as the sight of something unexpected surprises you: you could see a black-colored buttplug buried into her ass, the crystalized tip just hanging out nicely and this sight just made everything worse for the better.

You push down onto it, slightly earning a guttural moan from her as the amalgamation of pain and pleasure mix harmoniously, derived and taken wholeheartedly. “Feeling kinky, huh, Chaewon?”

“You k-know me—ahh, fuck, that’s great!” You continue teasing her with the plug, and the other doing an exquisite job between her folds which just puts her in a position of no-return. Clearly there’s no return in her current state: desperate, horny and weak, something that no one could ever take a sight of except you—maybe, only you can make her shift into this kind of façade and it’s outstanding.

“Just put it in, please—ow! Hmph…” Her body fully recoils with your strike, feeling more of that pain because of her exposed white, pristine skin that you’ll love to spoil. 

You would warn her but you know that she knows that she’s making these pleas and a disturbance to your authority intentionally to draw more spanks that just makes her folds wetter, and you can feel it with its constant squelches. 

You can’t tease her long enough because of your growing deprivation and frustration on your side, so with a single hindrance towards a climactic turn, you open your lips to mutter a consent. “You ready, Chaewon?”

“Of course I’m fucking ready for you—ahh—ah, god, oh!” The green light was said sooner, and you waste no time with the given opportunity. Albeit, this wasn’t more of an opportunity, but rather a necessity as this was planned beforehand and there’s no surprise with that.

No surprises but you just had it earlier—what a woman you are Kim Chaewon.

You plunge it deeper, almost up to the hilt as you draw back and slam again, the sounds resonate around the stall which nobody would probably care about. You grip her hips, stabilizing control as you continue your pace. “Chae—this pussy is something else.”

She moans in response, unable to think coherently yet she manages to still come up on an articulate response. “It shouldn’t be surprising a-anymore—you always love the way my walls hug around that big cock of yours.”

It’s mesmerizing to say the least—her words feel like a switch in you, flicking and activating something when the time comes and you love every second of it. You continue your pace, ramping up as time ticks and so is your harshness. You tend to alternate between spanks and thrusts, making her clench tightly around you and wince in pain, biting her lower lip to fight the sudden surge of emotions.

Her repeated cries and encouragement go well together to cook up a fuel that’s raging you to display your fullest potential—each thrust makes her yelp and moan uncontrollably, concerned with the fact that someone may come in and suspect such an activity inside the restroom. 

That didn’t stop you though, hammering her tight cunt like it’s your last and slapping those cheeks to ignite her masochistic side—you love the sight of a reddish mark imprinted on her skin, signifying your rapid harshness that will mark until the end of the day.

“Fuck me just like that—just—fucking—that, oh, oh!”

“Have I proven myself enough, Chaewon?” You need that answer out of her, let her know how worthy you are and how she can find nobody like you and possibly, you probably need to rail her harder than usual with a flabbergasting response. 

“You haven’t make me cum yet—it’s n-not even close yet—”

“Then why are you leaking like a faucet right now? Care to explain?” She can’t grasp the fact that she’s head over heels on you right now, and her denial is soon going to punish her for the time being, but for now, barrage of spanks will do, resulting in a rosy-pink hue imprinted on her porcelain skin that favors up to her own liking.

She continued to moan with your repetitive thrusts, aiming to fuck that egotistic and hypocrisy out of her and let her mind think of you and you only—maybe it’s working, ever so slightly with the constant submission she’s indulging in. You grasp her hips hard enough to probably bruise her, gripping on it in every thrust you do as she orchestrates such a symphony of moans that fuels you to go further.

You’re remarkable with your performance, she knows it and with her defenses crumbling down one by one, she would voice how much she loves this.

“Your—cock, fuck! So good!”

It wasn’t surprising, to say the least. She’s borderline screaming at this point as you hammer your length in her, up to hilt. The blazer probably doesn’t help with your concurrent thrusts, an annoying bit to your end and knowing how much better the sight is with most of her skin exposed, you pull her and command her to undress it and off on the floor, if she doesn't care.

“But w-why? This blazer is expe—”

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” You slap those red cheeks of hers, earning a whimper and a slight writhe on her end, whining about your wants and you’re utterly selfish to see more. She finds your hostile behavior attractive because deep inside, Chaewon waited for this for so long that she never would click her interests. “Fucking remove it—I want to see more of you.”

Chaewon sighs between her moans, placing her purse down to the tank of the toilet as she struggles a little bit due to your recklessness. “F-Fuck—whatever you say…”

She’s swift with her movements, effortlessly removing the nuisance of clothing and off to the floor. You marvel with those sharp shoulders of hers as you latch onto the visible skin, peppering it with kisses as you hiss onto her ear, “This cunt of yours, Chaewon—is perfectly tight.”

She’ll never get tired of your addiction to her tightness, vocally or physically because it’s all that you’ve ever wanted. You continue with your pace, slick covering your whole length and some dripping onto the floor until something unforeseen meets the both of you, and it’s surely a humiliating experience being exposed as one. 

The door creaks as the both of you hear multiple people laughing and singing along, and your reflexes work like a cat, quickly shutting up Chaewon’s mouth with your hands as you stop with your movements, burying your cock up to the hilt. 

Chaewon’s eyes are wide, flushed as your sudden movements make her retaliate a little and let out muffled moans. Her frame reels within your control and you didn’t like this, not when you’re in the edge of risky predicament—they are just a step closer to unveil how much of a slut Chaewon is and how you’re completely wrecking her, and you’d love to make it just exclusive between the both of you, behind closed doors.

Luckily, the lock says ‘occupied’ as the penultimate defense against a force worth intimidating. You grit your teeth, leaning in to her ear as you jeer, “You fucking slut—this is what I’m fucking afraid of—you better shut your mouth and not do anything stupid.”

Chaewon would want to fight you, complain or hurt you just to get what she wants but probably, the switch inside her flickers, only nodding as she struggles to breathe with your hand still covering her mouth. You move your hips leisurely as Chaewon lets out another set of muffled moans, feeling your length inside is enough to meet her own breaking point and you’d love to restrain her sinful sounds between the both of you. 

The ebullient sounds of the people inside the restroom sends your senses elevated, fully aware of how you can derive pleasure as silent as possible and you’re grateful that every noise reverberating around the vicinity of where you are at outpowers the sounds of sex happening inside this confined bathroom stall.

You’d never know such risk would make everything exhilarating.

“I may or may not like this place more now, Chaewon.” You whisper behind her ear with such unfathomable intent, ferocious about the situation as she desperately moves her hips in tandem with your slow thrusts, your hand handling her in place and making your hands as a makeshift cuff around her wrists.

You can feel her nostrils desperately blowing heat and air, aiming to get as much oxygen to release her emotions all throughout your manhandling. You wait for a bit as you stop, keeping your length buried inside her, observing the situation down to its last, minute details. They walked, laughed and seconds right after, the door creaked open and shut, releasing your grip on her mouth, Chaewon catching her breath as she gasped for air.

“Why—hah—why t-the fuck would you do that?” Chaewon angrily asks you, and you hold her in place with another slap on those reddened buttcheeks that just made her whine for the umpteenth time. 

“Because I want to? And also—” You moderately fuck her, then leaned onto her delectable back, licking the sweat off and peppering it with kisses as her walls grew wetter, knowing that she would be close. “—you’re dying to cum, aren’t you?”

Chaewon is silent but her moans, resonating as you didn’t like her inability to respond to you. “I asked you a question, didn’t I—”

“Yes! Yes, just—please, let me cum—”

You won’t stop her, not when you gradually thrusted deeper and hard, her velvety walls inviting you to do so as you can sense her nearing climax, giving everything you can within the last seconds and—

A blissful scream escapes her lips and god, this is a sight.

You pull out within the last second, only to see Chaewon spewing liquid after liquid, onto the floor, spoiling her pants a little and yours. It probably hit her like a train, feeling weaker as she pants in pleasure and sensitivity, her legs leaving her tight frame precarious yet your strength held her to stay still. 

“Gosh—you fucked me so well, huh?” Her pride still ensues even in an post-orgasmic state, and you wouldn’t break a sweat getting it off on her with your cock completely ravaging her again as she continues her words. “Aren’t you dying to cum, too?”

Of course you are, and it’s clearly mutual and rhetorical, but you’ll let her know your own gravitas. “Of course I am but I want it somewhere else.”

It was left behind, completely forgotten but not this time, as your fingers went onto her glistening buttplug, pushing it down as her legs shuddered in response. You thrust the given material deeper as she winces in pain and moans with pleasure. 

Chaewon knows the message well and it’s surely obvious—her little laugh of victory was enough of a statement, and you’ll live enough to fulfill that.

“Of course you always wanted to shove something deep in that hole—probably dreaming, drooling, manifesting—what words should I even u—ow, what the fuck?”

Her garrulous nature is a bug in your ear, clearly annoying yet you marvel with her ability to speak eloquently given the condition—maybe you haven’t fucked her enough to get her drunk with your cock and you can’t lie, she’s a tough woman to break.

As much as you don’t want her words to register through you, you can’t help but agree with her, reading you like a book and is aware of your eyes constantly eyeing her ass as you’re wrecking her folds into oblivion.

You carnally need her, primal instincts taking over you totally.

“Can you just shut your mouth for one second for fuck’s sake?” 

“No. Why would I—ow!” Another is what she gets as you point out something straightforward, clearly yearning for more of her.

Your hands caress that bent plane of her body and then her scrumptious ass, uttering words that are ultimately ravenous. “Do you have any lube? I’m dying to fuck this tight ass of yours right now.”

You’re feral and she knows it all too well. She opens up her purse, and you’re shocked to see a small bottle that contains what you think is pivotal for the latter stages. Chaewon looks over your shoulder, handing you the bottle as you grab it swiftly and immediately avert your eyes onto that plugged puckered hole desperate for such intimate action.

It would be cruel to hand such deprivation towards her just to tease her waiting butt, not when you’re corrupted mentally to do such things no one else would think of.

And you give in, wanting the awaited climax to be worth a memory imprinted in you and hers.

Chaewon wiggles her ass, inviting you to do the unspeakable as you tell her you’re going to remove that plug, easing her anal muscles and there goes the main event. She whines, needy and compliant for you and knowing the methods of yours is empirically derived onto experience (mostly just observing her), you immediately get onto work.

You squeeze a reasonable amount onto your fingers, lathering it onto your entire length, not leaving a single inch untouched and her waiting hole, clenching as soon as you inserted your fingers in and permeating those walls with aiding lubrication. 

Her moans are as pure as honey, sweet and tangy unlike her personality—a duality balancing her as a person and not going to lie, that dynamic is a guilty pleasure.

As you were about to insert your length, Chaewon uttered the words Stop as you ultimately did, piqued on what she had in mind and clearly in the mood to let this through.

“It’s getting uncomfortable here—want you to fuck me against the mirror—”

“Right outside this stall? What if someone barges in—” Interruptions, interruptions, interruptions. Of course, anything could be considered as a risk at this point as you feel your heart skip a beat, feeling this could be the worst and the best experience of your life—best of both worlds and utterly balanced, as someone may say.

“If you don’t want to, then I’ll call this as the end of a note.”

“Fuck no.” It was audacious coming from you as you don’t want this opportunity to be wasted, not when you’re just numerous steps ahead from your victory.

“Say it…” Chaewon’s voice is seductive and it’s making you pliant, akin to your nature earlier which made you think of a choice that’s obviously having an answer in her favor. “Say it to me…”

You lean and your words spit truth. “I’m going to fuck you against that mirror, gape this slutty, tight ass as I make you beg for more.”

Chaewon’s chuckle of triumph falls audible on your ears, and you’ll comply with her needs easily. “Good, now don’t get me waiting.”

---

It is euphoric to say the least, an ounce of energy equals surges of pleasure could never go wrong. This idea of hers can’t help just to aid you, making you even harder and your pace quickening as you pound her harsher against the sink. 

You’d watch her expressions of lust any day, alongside her frame getting railed with a vision on both sides.

“God—I—your cock! Oh fuck!” This is just one of the sentences she utters that isn’t anywhere near being coherent, and thankfully you can listen to her moans instead of her bratty blabberings that result into nothingness. She wants you to be rough onto her puckered hole and you’re entitled to do so, simply because you can easily control her frame right now with your arms in authority onto hers. 

You can sense her legs about to give out, enervated with your constant pounding that puts on a smile on your face, knowing your efforts are getting somewhere and she knows you’ll take advantage of this. The tightness of her snug hole provides is something remarkable—the way it hugs around your shaft hurts and wrings out pleasure, and it couldn’t be any better.

“So—fucking tight, Chae—god!”

“Stretch me out more, p-please—fuck me s-silly—ahh!” It revolves around those sets of words: continuous praises of her ass and your whole length inside it. You release your control of your arms onto her, now gripping her buttcheeks harshly enough for a leverage to opt for a better pace. You hiss as you withdraw and bury more, feeling that inevitable surge of gratification all over you as she aids you with her relaxation of her anal walls. 

You don't care if someone barges in, not even thinking to lock the door and if that does happen, let them have a seat for what will be the greatest performance you’re about to execute.

You can feel that it’s easing up and with her green light, it won’t be a difficult decision to wreak havoc onto that excruciatingly tight yet pleasurable asshole.

“God, please—fuck me until I can’t w-walk—oh shit—fuck!”

She’s a mess in distress, totally within the submergence of your astounding prowess as you bring out an onslaught of thrust, still wincing with her tightness and that didn’t stop you. She cries for you, arms almost giving out with how she grips the sink and with this state of hers, it’s a must to take this mental picture, her expressions shown onto the mirror as a cherry on top.

You throb persistently in every thrust you do and she can feel you getting near but there are words that strokes your ego, making you hubristically out of anyone’s league, matched with hers.

“Gosh—hah—hah, I—oh, l-love your cock so much—holy shit, I’m gonna cum so hard!”

You spank and her walls restrict in regards to your own actions, making you groan with her unparalleled tightness that surely rivaled her pussy. “Cum all over the floor—I’ll help you out, Chae.”

Removing your grip onto her hips, you didn’t waste time rubbing her clit, even inserting fingers onto that sullied cunt of hers and you can feel how wet and near her anticipated orgasm is.

It wasn’t going to take longer than what you expected—clearly close and to the point of no-return, you thrust your fingers in tandem with your thrusts, earning a guttural moan (mostly a scream at this point) from Chaewon and there she goes, fully sent onto the state of a blissful trance.

She’s tighter than earlier and you can feel it, clenching repeatedly as she pants and catches her breath because of such stimulation. Picture this: Chaewon extending her weak arms onto the edge of the sink, both holes clenching as she chases her orgasm and another fountain of that colorless liquid spurts onto the floor. She squirm under her climax, legs relentlessly shaking as you hold her in place, continuous with the extension of her high as she lets out cry after cry for more but to no avail, not all things lasts forever.

She rode the high and recovered quickly, pleading you to continue ramming your length into her and to constantly be rough on her, knowing she could take it well. “Don’t s-stop fucking me—fuck me until you paint my insides white.”

She’s struggling for a bit, groaning as you never backed down nor increased this pace—it is just right, ultimately filling her up to the brim and mixing up her insides, as someone would say.

Your cock is persistently throbbing for god knows how long, dying for an euphoric release as sweat drips down on her back, opting to lick in an inch yourself closer to your own high (maybe some praise onto that skin of hers would elevate you into an heavenly ascension). Knowing how dangerously close you are, you become a primal instrument of lust, relentless and selfish with your movements as every oscillating movement sends the both of you into overdrive.

You didn’t utter a word yet an audible moan as you bury deep inside her, painting her inside white as she clench with the warmth it brings, a stream of subsequent saccharine moans leaving her lips as after you’ve spilled everything inside her, you pull out slowly and you’ve probably broke her. 

The both of you exchanged breaths as you can see her snug hole drip some with your orgasm, completely lost in the trance as she snaps you back to reality, words invigorating you as a person and your senses.

“Oh s—shit… You’ve fucked me so well—” Chaewon’s legs shudders, sore from the fucking she took as she reaches for the buttplug and gave it to you. You know what to do with the plug you have in hand, inserting it inside her puckered hole that’s probably stretched out thanks to you, and she can’t help by gleefully smile, her blissful visage clearly a sunshine between the darkness you’ve unveiled and the dim lights the restroom provides.

“It would be a waste if I’ll just let your load drip on and spoil my pants, y’know?”

You’re mute and clearly exasperated, leaning against the wall of the bathroom stall as Chaewon turns around, facing you as she’s evidently limp and your eyes quickly lock onto hers. “Got nothing to say?”

You part your lips, a breath escapes as you utter, “I never knew this idea would work—you’re crazy for this.”

Chaewon laughs as she lifts her pants up on her waist, wearing and then fixing her blazer as she faces you close, “Of course I am—now let me clean you off.”

She did her wonders and you let her take over. You’d mentally imprint this onto your brain (you’ve said this for like umpteenth times) and will never forget this moment.

But a single question arises in the midst of all of these highs: Did you earn your spot?

Only she can answer that but you’re confident you’ve passed, her holes clearly being spent locks the supposed deserving final decision.

—

It’s crazy how all of these events unfolded probably in less than a day, unable to fully register these and assess every detail because it felt surreal and too fast. You stand by it, feeling these were too good to be true but as much as you want to snap back to reality, you are walking down victorious, all within your hand’s reach and that’s all that matters.

It’s deep of a night, you’re just driving towards the hotel now after such an exhilarating day and your focus is averted onto two things: reminiscence and the road ahead.

You’re playing with the risk of death but that would be slimmer than zero—driving is just in your blood right now, and this wouldn’t be much of a sweat. Chaewon and you are in an awkward silence, looking at your peripherals to see her on her crossed legs, looking at the distance.

You’re utterly curious about her final conclusion and it’s looking like she won’t say anything so you’ll take matters into your own hands.

“Did I do well, Chaewon?”

She’s the one who’s dead silent—you know it felt ringing onto her eardrums, so when she hasn’t responded for at least five seconds you know she’s ignoring you.

“Hey, Chaewon—”

“What?” Her tone is raised up, sulking and sharp, oblivious to where her newly profound attitude is coming from. A speculation is probably because she’s incredibly tired and her usual grumpy attitude is now being a part of her mood swings. You can’t blame her if that’s the reason behind her demeanor—who wouldn’t be tired when you’ve walked for like kilometers, shopped and had the filthiest sex in a public environment known to man so you empathize.

Guess the speculation is deemed incorrect.

“What’s up with you?” 

“Nothing, I just hate how you fucked me so good earlier…” She’s brutally honest and upon that conclusion, you derived a concrete reasoning and that was the shattering of her ego.

“Well, thank you I guess—but how about—” Chaewon wails as you advance with your words and she knows she accepted defeat and handed the crown onto you—you clearly broke her apart, even got her real feeling hidden as she acts unorthodox to her natural self.

“Okay, you earned it! You did a great job with that, okay, happy?” Even though her words laces as a mock and truly insincere, you can tell she clearly enjoyed that session of yours and you don’t need to wring it out on her and would inadvertently tell how much she loved every second of that.

“Woah—Ms. Kim Chaewon is getting grumpy again, huh—ow!” She slapped your thigh as luckily, it wasn't enough for you to lose control on the wheel or something worse. You chuckle with her sulking attitude and you can’t help but find it adorable (even though she is) and even if it means to tease her rapidly.

“Yah, shut up! But honestly though…” Chaewon fixes herself, eyes onto you as she speaks up with sincerity and none of that bitchy attitude because she knows how you deserved it. “You clearly passed this test and it shows—I could never scream like that if it weren’t for that big dick of yours.”

She’s brutally honest and you love it, everything is factual and earns that little smile curling up on your lips. You smirk as your other hand finds itself towards her clothed thighs, caressing it and earning a yelp coming from her. Thankfully, she did acknowledge your actions, holding you hand as your hubris grows exponential by the second. “I’ll be grateful to fuck you that hard, anytime, anywhere.”

Chaewon’s mouth lets out a gasp, a little shocked by your latter words. “Anytime?”

“Anytime.”

“Anywhere?”

“Anywhere.”

You’re clear with your words and you’d let her know your commitment.

You traverse down the streets, swift with it as you stop once you get near the hotel the both of you are staying in possibly for a night or two, and she takes this opportunity to lock her gaze onto yours and it feels magnetic. Chaewon sighs deeply, and this time, with a smile imprinted on her lips and then the verdict comes after. “Well, I guess it’s official—you’re mine now.”

You don’t know where this will end and you’re playing a cat and mouse game here: what if Yeji knows about this? Regarding that, would you even confess if given the chance when Chaewon’s all over your place? Does Chaewon really consider the facts about yesterday’s circumstances and knows how this will play out?

Behind all of these questions, the truth is what follows: you’ve made this mess by yourself and you’d just know what the future may hold onto you—the angel and the devil clashing into you will tell the tales and build the roads you step on.

But right now, you’ll savor this euphoric night and it’s probably going to be better with her corresponding words sealing the final deal. “Welcome to our world—my world. We’ll have fun—so much fun...”

Fuck, what have you done, and not going to lie, you’re excited on what may happen next as this was just the tip of the iceberg—and this iceberg is a deep one, in all likelihood.

[distantdarlings]

LET ME // t. nott

RATING: R / 4.8K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Theodore Nott has been harassing you ever since he found out you had a crush on him. Now, you’ve been paired together for a project for McGonagall’s class and he has nothing good in mind.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in V), unprotected, sub!reader, Dom!Theo, slightly rough!dom!Theo, marking kink, slight size kink, bulge kink, brief dumbification, brief spit kink, reader wearing a skirt, light enemies to lovers, language, one (1) slap, name-calling, praise kink, slight degradation, public sex, fem!reader, oral (fem!receiving), Theo is persistent, not proof read (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Echo - XANU

- - -

Merlin, forgive whatever you had done to deserve the treatment you were currently receiving.

You thought back on every negative deed you’d done in the last year and still hadn’t found anything worthy of your horrendous luck.

The arrogant boy turned to stare you down, malicious intent etched into the unfortunately gorgeous features of his face.

You could feel your face contort into an expression of horror as you tore your eyes away from him and turned to Professor McGonagall.

“Professor, I— you started.”

“All partner decisions are final—no exceptions!” McGonagall finished, as if trying to answer the question you had before you could even voice.

You deflated into your seat, your mood dropping like a brick. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have guessed the entire class was staring at you. The entire student body of Hogwarts knew how you felt about your new Transfiguration project partner, Theodore Nott. The bastard…

You glanced back at up—arms crossed and lips poured—just to find the boy still staring you down, evil smirk painted on his lips. He gave you a sardonic wave, wiggling his fingers tauntingly.

“Fuck,” you sighed, pressed an exasperated fist to your forehead.

Your knee anxiously bobbed beneath the desk, the heel of your uniform shoe beating against the floor in a flurried rhythm.

Luna Lovegood, your best friend, was sitting directly next to you. Intuitive as she always was, you knew she could feel the pure panic radiating off of you. Her hand rested on your shoulder in a small motion of comfort, but nothing could calm you now. You were utterly screwed.

McGonagall finished off the rest of her speech on the instructions for her project, then dismissed the whole class. Luna helped you to gather your things together as you struggled to force yourself to move.

Maybe you’d pissed McGonagall off? Merlin, what had you done to deserve this? You asked yourself the same question over and over again.

Out of the corner of your eye, you glimpsed Theodore flouncing over to you with an unnerving glint in your eyes.

“Well, aren’t I just the luckiest man on earth?” he said snidely.

“Fuck off, Theo,” you growled, intentionally not making eye contact with him.

You made to pick up your books and slide them into your bag, when he slammed his hand down on the cover of one of them, pressing them down against the desk. He pinned your fingers beneath them against the wood—just enough to keep them sturdy, but light enough so that it didn’t hurt you.

“Stop!” You yanked your fingers out from beneath the books, the heavy leather smacking against the table with a thud. Now, you made eye contact with him.

“What are we going to do our project on, baby?” he asked.

“Don’t call me that!” You yanked your books out from underneath his strong hold and shoved them quickly into your bag. “We can discuss it in the library after class.”

“I’m looking forward to it—I’ll be sure we get a quiet corner, you know…,” he stepped closer to you, “…so I can explore every inch of…the subject.”

You sneered in disgust and pulled away from him, his voice still rattling in your ears.

“You’re disgusting,” you scoffed. “I’ll see you later for nothing more than our assignment.”

“Looking forward to it…can’t wait to put those big brains to use. Lovegood.” He nodded politely to Luna before heading off.

You glanced at Luna and acknowledged her slight smile. Everything in you was telling you to snap at her and tell her not to encourage any of the delinquent boy’s behavior, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever be very mad at Luna Lovegood. At least, not for long.

Instead, you rolled your eyes and took off toward the door, bag swinging between your shoulder blades.

“Wait up, friend!” Luna shouted lightly, running to catch up with you. You snorted and laughed at her, letting her sunlight hair fall into step beside you.

- - -

By the time your class of the day dismissed and the sun had begun to sink beneath the Hogwarts skyline, you were soaked through with nerves. The saturation of your anxiety had managed to breach every protective barrier you held up, and fill your hands with shudders and your stomach with nausea.

The root of your nerves when it came to Theo came from the consistent comments he insisted on making toward you. It seemed that he loved nothing more than dropping sexual hints into your ear every few days just to watch you squirm. He’d only started this after he’d heard through the grapevine you had a bit of a thing for him.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive, and that his words had absolutely no effect on you, but you couldn’t deny that he was just as annoying as he was charming.

It had gotten to a point when he made these comments, that he loved to joke aloud about your reactions to him, effectively embarrassing you in front of all of your peers. That was your final straw. All resemblance of an attraction toward Theo had melted away and been replaced by hatred.

And yet, as your feet led you to the grand library, you couldn’t stop the rapid pattering of your heart beat. Something about the boy had always been so…irresistible to you. Whether it was the way he always knew where to place his hands when he “accidentally” brushed you, or how he knew exactly what to say when he pressed his lips against the shell of your ear. You figured you should be grossed out and tell him to get away from you, but, unfortunately, you kind of liked it when he did those things.

As you came up to one of the several library doors lining the wall before you, you decided to try and swallow your nerves and focus only on the project. That was what you were supposed to do anyway—this wasn’t a date.

You pulled one of the doors open and slipped into the warmly-lit room. It always seemed to be just a tad bit cozier here than anywhere else in the castle—whether that was from the multiple fireplaces or the sweet aroma that floated through the air. Either way, you loved it.

Your neck craned as you glanced about, trying to glimpse the cocky boy, but to no avail. Wherever he was, he surely wasn’t interested in making it easy on you to find him.

A sigh left you as you started toward the back of the library where a couple tables rested behind a few conveniently placed bookcases. Unfortunately, the feeling in your stomach told you that he surely would be sitting at one of those tables, simply because you knew how his dirty, little mind worked.

That corner of the library was…infamous for its concealed nature. Everyone in Hogwarts had heard the little rumors that fluttered about, of couples getting a bit too friendly with each other while the librarian was downstairs.

Because of those rumors, it had garnered a reputation. And if someone who had a penchant for gossip slipped past you and Theodore Nott studying back there, you’d be screwed.

Once you passed the last book case, zigzagging between the three that formed the perfect labyrinth, you came upon Theo comfortably waiting at the table in the middle. A groan of defeat left you and your head dipped back. You stared at the ceiling for a few moments while contemplating your options—you could still run away.

“Hello, beautiful,” Theo said, leaning his chin down on his propped up fists. “I’ve been waiting so impatiently for you.”

“Whatever,” you sighed. You crossed over to the table and sat across from him—the farthest away you could get. Your bag collapsed to the ground and unzipped itself on the way down. The things you needed for this assignment floated out and landed neatly on the table before you, including a few rolls of parchment, a quill and ink, and your books.

He marveled silently, seemingly trying to hide his fascination at your wandless magic. Perhaps if he studied as hard as you did, he would also be able to achieve it.

“Alright, shall we do this?” you asked, maintaining a bored expression.

“I’d love to,” he smirked. “But I’d love to showcase a bit of my magic as well, if that’s alright with you?”

“What—?” Your voice was cut off with a slight gasp as all four legs of your chair lifted off of the ground. Your fingers wrapped around the sides of your seat to keep you from slipping off.

Theo’s eyes followed your chair as it floated over the table and all the way beside him. Once your shoulders were inches from his, your chair dropped a few centimeters to the ground. A small yelp came from you as you regained your balance and glared at him. Perhaps he was a better wizard than you thought.

“What the hell, Theo?” you demanded, immediately scooting your chair away from him, putting a good few inches between you.

“I just thought we’d be able to work better closer together,” he purred, his arm dropping against the table to cage you against him and the bookshelf a bit to your left. You eased away from him so you were closer to the shelves than you were to him. His eyes never dropped from yours. “Merlin, what is that smell? You smell absolutely divine—”

“Okay, let’s just get this done,” you interrupted him, pushing his approaching body back away from you.

“Mm, alright,” he smiled. “Have you decided on a topic you’re interested in presenting on?”

“Actually, I have.” You pulled your books across the table over to where the two of you were sitting, flipping everything to the appropriate page. There were a couple pages in your notebook where you’d jotted some ideas down earlier today, and you’d figured he’d want to see the different ideas, as it was his grade, as well. “So, I threw a couple of ideas together in my fourth period. We can see what you think of them…”

As you explained the details of all of your ideas, it became increasingly obvious that Theo was not at all interested in what you had to say about the project. Though you refused to look directly at him, the corner of your eyes granted more than enough knowledge.

Theo’s eyes were ravenous as they drew down your body, curving across the most private areas of your body with no shame. You could feel your cheeks burning, but hoped the warm tones from the candles around you would conceal that.

When he scooted a bit closer to you, you kept talking. And when he laid his arm across the back of your chair, you kept talking. And when his fingers began to toy with the ends of your hair, you kept talking. But when he took your quill gently from your fingers and set it down on the table, you finally stopped. You barely made eye contact with him, constantly glancing away and down to the table. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears.

His fingers pulled away from your hair and dropped to your shoulder. They squeezed the hard muscles a few times.

“God, you seem tense,” he spoke lowly, his voice barely above a whisper. His other hand reached up and matched the opposite’s position on your other shoulder.

When he placed a gentle amount of pressure, it expressed a small sigh from your lips. He was right. You were very tense—in general, but especially around him.

“Here, let me…,” he stood and appeared behind you rather quickly.

“Theo, I don’t think this is appropriate. I’d really just—” Your voice cut off as soon as he began to roll your taut muscles beneath his nimble fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, pleasurable jolts of pain shocking across your neck and down your back.

“That’s okay, baby,” he whispered, dangerously close to your ear. “Finish telling me about your idea. I’ll just loosen some things up back here. Fuck, you’re so tight.”

He pressed an especially hard drive against your skin. You bit back a moan at the sensation. You don’t think you’d ever had a better massage in your life.

You wanted to tell him to stop, but it felt so fucking good. And you really were sore around your neck and shoulders.

“Theo?” you tried again.

“Read.” His voice had a commanding tone to it. One hand released your shoulder briefly to grab your books and slide them closer to you, before returning to its position against your skin.

His hands worked their way up around your jaw, cupping it gently, so he could press his thumbs against the back of your neck. You audibly sighed this time without intending to. Embarrassed, you attempted to cover it up with a clear of your throat.

You began to explain the rest of your project plan, small shudders rippling through your voice every time he’d hit an especially sore spot.

By the time he finished and pulled his hands away from you, your body was mourning the loss of him but relishing in the relief it felt. It honestly hadn’t felt far off from a professional massage.

“How’s that?” He walked around to your side, still not sitting back down.

“Er, good,” you chuckled nervously, rubbing your hand along the back of your neck, trying to spread the relief around.

“Perfect,” he smiled, gently swiping his index finger beneath your chin. He sat back down beside you.

“So, what do you think?” you asked.

“About what?”

“The project idea…”

“Oh, yeah, I think it’s wonderful,” he said, shrugging a bit. “I think we can work with it.”

“Theo, did you even listen?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

“Of course, I did,” he chuckled. “It’s just not easy to focus when you have such a gorgeous partner.”

There went your cheeks getting insanely hot again. He thought you were gorgeous? There was no way. Someone must have put him up to this, right? Or he was fucking with you because he knew you had had a bit of a crush on him.

“I—er…” you stuttered hopelessly, pulling your eyes away from his.

He placed a hand on your knee. You could feel the warmth of his skin through your tights. The heartbeat in your ears picked up wildly.

“Don’t be nervous around me.”

“What?” you laughed suddenly. “I’m not nervous, I’m just—you’re just really…friendly? I don’t know. Why are you pretending to be so interested in me? Did someone put you up to it?”

“Why would someone have put me up to flirting with you?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“Because they know I had a thing for you,” you blurted before thinking. “I mean—”

“Nope! Can’t take it back now, my love.” Theo chuckled, an evil smirk printing across his lips. “And, for the record, no one put me up to flirting with you. I just want to.”

His hand slid up to the top of your knee as he leaned a bit forward.

“Theo!” you hissed. “We’re in the library—you can’t do that.” Though you verbally protested his actions, you couldn’t deny the heat building in your stomach at his touch.

Despite the conviction you had for needing to decline him and all of his advances, you couldn’t seem to suppress the need you felt for him right now—a different kind. His eyes remained on yours and refused to look away.

The two of you were in the library, and had seemed to despise each other’s company only minutes earlier, but for some reason, you couldn’t force yourself to stop his rising hand.

Soon, his fingers were toying with the edge of your skirt and his lips were millimeters from your own. You could feel his gentle breath against your cheeks.

“Theo…,” you shuddered at his proximity. His thumb slid slowly down the side of your thigh, the contact eliciting chills along your legs.

“You’ve wanted me for months,” he murmured, lips brushing against yours. “Are you finally going to let me fuck you?”

You gasped slightly as the tip of his thumb just barely brushed your core through your panties.

“Say yes, or I’m not going to touch you anymore.”

As if on cue, his hands pulled back from you and his mouth seemed to hover a few inches away. The cold air hit the spot his hand had been occupying on your thigh and sent a row of shivers up your spine.

“I don’t understand. Is this a joke?” you shuddered.

He shook his head slowly. “Not a joke, I just want you. Say yes, baby.”

“Y—” before you were even able to get the singular syllable out, his lips were pressing against yours and devouring them like a predator.

His hand found its place against your thigh again, the other hand following suit on the other thigh. He pushed them up the expanse of your skin, inching your skirts up in the process.

You moaned against his lips in embarrassment at the sudden loss of dignity.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he sighed against your mouth. “Let me taste you.” He pressed his lips roughly back to yours.

You gasped for air and pulled away, noses brushing against the other. “Say please,” you managed to choke out.”

“What?”

“Say please,” you repeated. “What, did you think I was going to come here and just give you whatever you wanted?”

“Oh, that’s how you’re going to be?” he smirked. You stared back astutely, not yielding to any teasing he tried to give.

“Alright, baby,” he conceded. He pulled himself closer to you and worked his way up your neck and to your ear, pressing chaste kisses against your flesh. “Please let me taste this sweet cunt. ‘ve been dreaming about it for months.”

You shivered at his words before nodding. You weren’t in your right mind—you couldn’t be.

He slid out of his chair and dropped to his knees. His hands wrapped around your hips and yanked you to the edge of the seat. His fingers pushed your skirt up around your hips and angled you up toward his face, pulling your legs over each of his shoulders.

The cool air flushed against the hot wetness slathered across your thighs. But the shock of wintry air was canceled out quickly by Theo’s hot mouth placing against your clothed core.

Your head fell back against the chair as your hands flew to his honeyed curls.

He swirled his lips across you, gathering your lust on his tongue. Each time you let a little moan slip, he’d echo you with his own louder one. It wasn’t loud enough to be heard anywhere else in the library, but it was enough to vibrate against you and send your head spinning.

The second your thighs began to shake on either side of his sharp jaw, he pulled away from you, leaving you bare and wanting.

“Turn around,” he panted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Obstinately, you held your chin up and refused to obey him. You wanted to appear strong and resistant as payment for how much of a dick he’d been to you, but with your quivering lips and legs still spread wide for him, you figured you didn’t quite get the point across.

He suddenly grabbed your jaw in one hand, while undoing his belt buckle with the other. Anticipation boiled in your belly.

“Turn around,” he said before suddenly and mockingly tilting his head to the side. “Or do you not understand what’s good for you?”

When you said nothing, he pulled you out of the chair and bent you over the library table. You yelped as your chest collided with the table.

Once on your stomach, he flipped your skirt over against your back and ripped your panties and stockings down your legs until the soaked things were stuck around your ankles.

Then, without another warning, he was sliding into you and stretching you wide. You gasped aloud and gripped at the smooth table, begging to find purchase on anything.

He moaned slightly at the way you clenched around him. He pushed himself into you a little more with each slow thrust, the movement splitting you down the middle. His hands held you tightly in place by your hips, pinning you down against the table.

“Shit, you feel fucking perfect,” he moaned, fingers gripping into your flesh.

Every alarm bell was ringing in your head, telling you to separate and cover yourselves, because you were in public. But, for some reason, you found yourself loving the thrill of possibly being walked in on; of possibly being found with Theodore Nott buried deep inside of you, taking his pleasure from your body.

By the time he’d finally bottomed out inside of you, he was panting and willing himself not to come prematurely.

“I’ve never felt anything this tight,” he groaned.

You hadn’t been able to see the size of him before he started pushing into you, but you had to guess he was the biggest you’d ever felt. Just having his hips pressed to your ass felt like the tip of him was brushing your cervix.

“Ah, fuck, wait,” he said, panting heavily. He rubbed your back as he slowly pulled all the way out of you and stood you up. He turned you around to face him and laid your back against the table.

He brought your legs around him and you hooked them together behind his back. You watched him with deep admiration as his fingers stroked up and down your legs, preparing to explain what he wanted.

“I want to watch me fill you up,” he whispered, leaning down to press a slow kiss to your lips. It was sweet and thick with saliva but, despite everything else he’d so far, this set off a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.

His hands came away from your legs and wrapped around your waist. He watched addictively as his fingers wrapped entirely around your body, his large hands positively dwarfing your small frame. And you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes fill with an inky, black glint as he brought his hips to the underside of your thighs.

He placed his dick on your stomach, reveling in how far up your stomach it went. He moaned at the sight and pulled your right leg up and over his shoulder. He pressed a small kiss to the side of your calf.

“Theo,” you whined, still reeling from the loss of him inside of you. “Please, no more teasing.”

“Be patient, baby,” he whispered against your leg. “I want to remember this moment.”

“Theo,” you urged once more. But his hand came down hard against the outer side of your thigh. You yelped at the pain that radiated down the side of your leg.

“I said to be patient.” He soothed the pain gently with his fingers, still looking down at how big he looked compared to you.

One of the things he’d always had on you was height. No matter if the things he said were stupid and undermining, you couldn’t deny that his size was enough to have the high ground.

“Look, we don’t have all the time in the world,” you sighed, leaning up on your elbows to speak with him. “The librarian could walk in here at any—”

He pushed back into you, choking any other words in your throat. You gasped and fell back against the wooden table, the cold lacquer biting into your flesh.

“Fuck,” Theo all but whined. He pressed his fingers against your lower abdomen where his dick had created a perfect impression. Every time he pulled out then pushed back in, his sheer size forced the body wall up and simultaneously probed a spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling backward.

Without wasting another second, he picked up his pace while dropping his hands down to your still-tucked in uniform shirt. He ripped the material out from beneath the waistband of your skirt, and ripped the buttons apart.

The candles floating overhead illuminated the curves and dips of your stomach, highlighting The valley of your breasts.

Hips still pistoning into you, and left hand holding your waist still, his right hand reached forward again and ripped the clip of your bra apart. Luckily, you’d worn the front access one today.

At the force of the destruction, your breasts fell apart from one another, bouncing against your dampened chest.

“Fuck,” he growled. “Gonna mark this beautiful body. Gonna let everyone know you’re mine. My girl.”

His words sent shockwaves through your system. You tried to reach for him but you couldn’t reach. Your arms fell back down against the table, your lack of anything to hold on to leaving you completely at the mercy of the pace he decided to set.

“T-Theo,” you stuttered, your voice breaking beneath the weight of his abuse.

He leaned down, pushing himself all the way into you for a moment, and latched his lips around a mouthful of your left breast. He sucked roughly on the flesh, pulling the blood to the surface. You whined through the pain that mingled with the pleasure from him below.

Once he was satisfied with the bruise painted on you, he moved toward your neck, sucking and biting just as rough, hips never halting.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered. “Tell me how it feels.” He nibbled on your earlobe.

You said nothing, your lips unable to form enough to make any words come out. Your fingers still gripped uselessly at the sides of the table. One leg was held uselessly over Theo’s shoulder while the other dangled limply over the edge of the table.

He leaned up. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”

Still, you made no sound.

“Oh, you pathetic thing,” he whispered, lips pressing to your elevated leg once again. “Am I fucking you stupid? Is that what it is? Yeah, baby? Next time, I’ll shove this dick down your throat and see how quiet you are then, you dumb slut.”

Now, within the final moments before your finish, his thumb dropped to your clit and began to rub small circles into the nerves. Your mouth fell open and your back arched to the ceiling as his hips intensified. They forced your finish closer and closer until you were spilling all over him, coating your legs and his stomach.

At the clenching of your core, his release was barreling forward, as well. He came with a long groan and a slow walk down of the brutal pace he’d set with his hips. His spend mixed with yours dripped down your legs.

Finally, with him still inside of you, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours. He eyed you sweetly, caressing soothing lines across your temple with his thumb.

“My sweet girl, you did so well,” he whispered against your lips. “Has anyone else ever fucked you so well?” There was that cocky Theo again.

“Maybe like one other person,” you gasped, trying to catch your breath.

“Oh, yeah? Who?” he asked, suddenly grabbing your jaw again and forcing you to look directly at him.

“Hmm, I’m not sure,” you said. “I think I forgot his name. I’ll probably just forget yours tomorrow, too.” You teased him meanly, smirk building on your lips. This was further payback for all the months of harassment you’d dealt with from him.

He pinched your cheeks together until your lips were pushed open.

“You can forget my name, sweetheart,” he whispered roughly, “but you’ll never forget what I just did to this body.”

His eyes watched yours with an intensity like no other. Then his lips pursed, and you watched as a line of spit dropped into your waiting mouth. It was the ultimate display of humiliation, but also ownership. You belonged to Theo, now.

And even if you forced yourself to forget his name or this day in the library, you’d never wipe the taste of his claim out of your mouth.

“Now, let’s get to work on that attitude, shall we?” Theo asked, voice suddenly chipper again.

He pulled out of you and zipped his pants back up, before selecting his bag off of the chair—which you’d now noticed he hadn’t even unpacked.

“Tomorrow at 6?” he asked.

Then he Disapparated, leaving you entirely exposed and alone.

That son of a bitch.

- - -

Tag List:

@lilymurphy03 , @mypolicemanharryyy , @angelfrombeneth , @clairesjointshurt , @bunbunbl0gs , @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303 , @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw , @yhiiil , @xxrougefangxx , @thatblackthorn , @robinyx , @starsval , @jolly4holly , @blvebanisters , @chgrch , @ilovehotmenandwoman , @smutnyrobocikwrakiecie , @synicaljah , @abaker74

[starboye]

starring: simon "ghost" riley x male reader

request: Hey OP saw that you wanted some requests for Ghost and I was wondering if you could write some Ghost x male reader 🤭🤭 where they’re roommates (could be civilian AU or military) who both claim to be “straight” but are so gay for each other. I kind of make this opened ended there’s like zero Ghost x male reader stuff 😭😭

warnings: smut, some fluff i think, cursing, pervert!simon, pervert!reader, civillian!au, jerking off, fingering, making out

you and simon ended up as roommates after learning that he had nowhere to stay after getting of his mission and now every day is a struggle to stop yourself from pouncing on the man, you and him both claimed to be straight, casually bringing it up while on a mission with the 141 team but your actions tell a different story, longing glances and drawn out touches says that you both like each other, but both of you don't know that about one other, to sure that the other is strictly straight and doesn't hold any feelings.

the dynamic is kind of simple around the apartment, you usually cook and clean while simon is out working and he'd do the same when you're out, but recently simon has wanted to take the role of cleaning more often, that was a lie though he hated cleaning but when he realized he could use it for his own perverted nature he was eager to do it more, when doing laundry he'd steal a pair of your used underwear just to sniff it and jerk off with it.

fucking into his fist in the dead of night when he thinks you're sleep, using your underwear as a sort of gag to capture his deep groans, the imagination of fucking you senseless flooding his mind over and over till he came with choked back grunts that you heard unbeknownst to him, you both sitting on the couch watching tv the next morning as if he didn't imagine fucking you till you moaned every letter of his name.

and you well you weren't nearly any better than him, always sneaking into his room when he was at work to lay in his bed, sniffing whatever scent of him was left on his pillows and wrapping yourself in his blankets to then finger yourself to the thoughts of him using you like a cum rag, filling you up over and over till you cant think, and you knew that your fingers could never match up to what simon probably felt like but you wanted to know so bad.

you both wanted each other so badly but never knew if the other wanted it to, till one fateful night where you were both chilling in the kitchen cooking up some dinner when you turned around and bumped into simon, his hands quickly moving to hold your waist so you don't fall and you both stood there for some time, just staring into each others eyes "oh uh sorry" he stuttered releasing his grip on you and baking up "don't be" you quickly say wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss the man.

you having to stand on your toes just to reach his mouth with yours and with that you pulled back, a couple more seconds of silence following before he's picking you up and taking you to his room, and my god was that night good, you were both living out your fantasies of each other simon cumming over and over again till he was milked dry and you ending up a messy and incoherent mess splayed on his bed.

after that it was like to rabbits fucking constantly, over and over, day and night or even morning time by this point the neighbors were begging you guys to calm it down but that still didn't stop you guys, to drunk off one another love to even think of stopping, now here you were making out on the kitchen counter with simon after trying to bake desserts like you too didn't fuck that morning, after simon came home from work, and before dinner seems like tonight's gonna be a loud one.

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune@fuckshft

[scribblesofagoonerr]

under pressure | katie mccabe x teen reader x caitlin foord

thank you to the anon that requested this one. it's been fun to write it!

i think i'm gonna plan a part 2 of this maybe, depending on what reaction i get from this one...

pairings: katie mccabe x teen reader x caitlin foord

summary: there's a lot of pressure that comes with being the next big thing in women's football sometimes

warning: talks of a eating disorder and angst

It sometimes felt like you had the world at your feet. You were well aware of the word on the street that you were the next big thing in women’s football. The headlines were quick to label you as a future star, comparing you to legends like Marta or Sam Kerr, but of course being the youngest to sign a professional contract sometimes came with a certain level of expectations, and that was something that nobody could really prepare you for the weight that would follow.

Living alongside Katie McCabe and Caitlin Foord felt like a dream in itself like it would for any football-crazy teenager and you were no different, you moved in with them after your own parents couldn’t travel to England with you. 

Caitlin and Katie were quick to become more than just teammates or mentors, they became family.

It should’ve been perfect– It mostly was.

At least until the pressure started to become too much for you, the media scrutinised everything about you: your every move, every game, every slip-up. There felt like there was never any room for mistakes and it started to take its toll on you.

The expectations suffocated you and you started to believe the medias’ words, not only the media but the pressure of fans as well, you felt like you were weighed down by an anker of harsh criticism.

Maybe if you were smaller– lighter, you could be faster. You could be better.

It only started small, barely noticeable in fact, just skipping meals and convincing yourself that you were just too busy. The comments on how lean you looked pushed you further, but it didn’t take long for the innocent excuses to morph into something darker.

The hunger pains were a lot easier to bear than the suffocating pressure, but you should have realised that it would be harder to hide, and before long, it wasn’t just you who had noticed the toll it was taking on you.

“You seem a lot quieter today kid,” Caitlin was the first to pick up on your bitter mood as you made your way out of the London Colney and headed in the direction of where Katie had parked her car earlier on when you all arrived for training, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m all good,” You gave her a weak smile and kept your shoulders slouched as you opened the car door to climb in.

Are you sure, kiddo?” Katie noted the exhausted look on your face as she opened the car door and climbed in, “Cait’s right, you don’t seem like yourself today.”

“I’m fine Katie,” You all but growled in response and slumped down in the backseat of the car, “I’ve already told you I’m fine, so just leave it, will you?” You hadn’t meant to be rude but you really do hate all the persistent questions being fired at you.

You hated being the centre of attention, despite what the media said about you.

It didn’t take long for you to begin feeling the weight of guilt, “Sorry, didn’t mean to snap like that.”

“It’s okay kiddo,” Katie replied, glancing in the rearview mirror and giving you a reassuring smile, “How about when we get home, we order pizza. My treat?” She offered.

Your smile faltered at the mention of food. Your stomach was hurting from the hunger, but couldn’t give in to the temptations, “Um, it’s okay, I don’t really fancy pizza, thanks,” You respond, biting your bottom lip.

You missed Katie and Caitlin sharing a glance with each other, catching the hesitation in your voice. It was subtle, but they both knew you well enough to notice.

At one point, you used to jump at the chance for pizza nights– especially after a long day of training and now you barely even showed an ounce of interest.

“Okay,” Katie simply nodded and started the ignition of her car up.

The drive back home was quiet, too quiet. The hum of the engine mixed in with the quiet volume of noise in the car filled the silence, but your thoughts were still loud. You couldn’t help but stare out the window, feeling the familiar tightening in your chest.

You hated the fact that they were starting to notice more, it was easier when they didn’t and you could still pretend that things were fine, even if they definitely were not.

You couldn’t ignore the way that your hands trembled slightly from exhaustion or the pounding in your head that had become all too familiar lately.

You just had to pretend for a little while longer.

Back at the house, you immediately make a beeline for your bedroom while muttering something about needing a shower. As soon as you closed the door, you leaned against it and took a deep breath. 

The initial feeling of hunger gnawed at you but you try to shove it aside, heading into the bathroom to splash cold water on your face all while ignoring the mirror, knowing you wouldn’t like what you saw.

“Hey kid! We’re gonna watch a film, do you want to come and join us?” Caitlin shouted upstairs to get your attention and you jolted slightly in shock.

“Uh, yeah, I’m coming!” You respond, turning the tap off and dabbing your face with a towel before making your way back into your bedroom, you shove a cosy hoodie on and shove your hair up in a messy bun before you head back downstairs to join the two of them.

“Here she is,” Katie exclaimed, gesturing for you to join them in the living room, “Where just deciding what film to watch, do you have anything you’d like to watch?” She questioned.

“Um, I don’t mind. I’m fine with anything,” You told her, plopping down on the sofa beside them as you listened to the two of them argue about what to watch.

Usually it was pretty comical when that happened, but you didn’t have it in you to laugh this time round.

The tension in the room was thick, and you knew it was only a matter of time before they brought it up again.

After what felt like an eternity, Caitlin broke the silence, “Y/N, we’re worried about you.”

Your stomach dropped and you should have known this was coming, but it still felt like a punch in the gut.

“You’re not eating, you’re not sleeping,” Katie leaned forward, her expression soft but serious, “You don’t seem like yourself, and we know that the pressure is a lot, but you know that you don’t need to carry it all by yourself.”

“I’m fine,” You shook your head, feeling the familiar panic rise in your chest, “I just have a lot going on right now.”

“We get it kid, but starving yourself isn’t the way to handle things,” Caitlins’ tone of voice was gentle but still firm. “There’s better ways to cope.”

You couldn’t help the tears that pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them away and refused to let them fall, “I’m not starving myself,” You whispered, trying to convince yourself more than them, “I just… I need to be better. I’m not good enough.”

“Y/N, you’re more than good enough,” Katie’s heart broke at your words as she scooted closer and placed her hand on your knee, “You’re incredible, and not just because of football but because of who you are, okay. You can’t do this to yourself, you can’t push yourself to the point where you’re hurting, kiddo.”

Your resolve was crumbing, you suddenly felt the weight of everything that you’d been holding in starting to break down, “I just… I don’t want to let anyone down,” You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hey, come here,” Caitlin reached over and pulled you into a tight hug, “You’re not letting anyone down, kid. We’re so proud of you– so proud. We just need you to take better care of yourself, and we’re not just talking about football here either. We care about you.”

Burying your face in her shoulder, the tears finally spilled, “I’m scared,” You choked out, “I… I don’t know how to stop.”

Katie soon joined the hug, her arms wrapping around both you and Caitlin, “You don’t have to do it alone,” She paused, “We’re here, we’ll help you, but you need to let us in.”

It felt like for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable. To let them see just how scared and overwhelmed you really were, with all the added pressure of things.

It now made you realise that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to face it all on your own after all.

You could let them in.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[pacifierbby]

★ *. * · 𝑱𝑬𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑺

𝑹𝑬𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑫? you could write something about jealous Lando pleasee. Honestly, I don’t really know what it could be, fluff, smut, or angst. I’ll leave it up to you ♡

୨ৎ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 LN4 x reader

୨ৎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 none

୨ৎ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓

-𝑵𝑨𝑽𝑰-

He could never understand why you dated so many dickhead men all of them lead to you ringing him up in the middle of the night crying for him to pick you up because yet another fight has occurred leading him to console you over a bottle of wine and some much-needed cuddles he just wished that you would open up and see everything he did for you was because he fell madly in love with you he was just coward to even tell you scared to even ruin the friendship between the both of you making him move into self-pity when you go crying to him wishing he would tell you how much he loves you. The day you told him that you've got another boy on the block that you think it's going really well and that maybe he's the one and not one toxic trait coming from him did massively hurt lando he just wished for your sake that that was true and that you found the one.

You and Lando chilling in his Monaco apartment the sun shining through the big bay windows giving you a soft glow "Hey Lando what are you doing tonight?" looking over to you "Uh nothing tonight was thinking off chilling in for the night" shrugging "well me and ben thinking about going to that new club if you want to join" making his smile instantly fade quickly smiling so you didn't notice "uh yeah sure" making sure that you didn't notice which you were more engrossed in your phone than him at the moment having this small feeling that something was going to go wrong tonight but he keep that between himself knowing it will probably cause a fight between you both the last time he announced his thoughts about your ex you told him that everything was wrong and stopped being an arsehole and that he was using you to get to him was completely wrong when later down the line he was right and you apologised massively for that and ever since then he watched you figure your ex-boyfriends out yourself.

Lando always knew how you felt after that and you told him that a couple of guys before that did try and use you to see him and ever since then he promised himself and to you that he would never bring the conversation up again knowing how much that it affected you which you were happy that he listened to you and your feelings Lando didn't know that deep down that you wished he was something more to you but just like him you was a coward to even tell him and that all these guys are just to push your feelings away from him and with Ben that worked greatly. As much as it hurt him it hurt you seeing him with so many women daily making you separate from him for a little which he never understood why but it was easier for you like that.

"Ben said that's great and we are going at 8 o clock is that okay for you?" looking away from your phone towards him "Uh yeah will it be fine for me to invite Margarida? Making your heart stop a little "Yeah yeah that's fine" getting up from the comfort of the couch "Well I'm going to go back to my apartment to get ready I think Ben is going to pick me up so I'll meet you at the club?" making Lando nod walking over giving you a side hug walking you over to his door.

He knew he shouldn't have asked if his recent hook-up could come but he really needed to get you and Ben out of his mind for the rest of the night only he could think that Margarida would be a better option other than alcohol quickly sending her a text. He never told you that she was a hook-up he just wanted you to automatically think that they were together hoping for some kind of reaction from you which you didn't really show. he doesn't know how long he can put this charade up for...

8 o'clock came quicker than he hoped the sun slowly moving down behind the clouds sighing and looking at himself in the mirror "Hey babe do you like my dress" rolling his eyes " Marg haven't I told you to stop calling me that?!" he couldn't really stand her voice at the moment "but yes yes I do now come on they're here" not even give her another chance to change the godamn dress for the seventeenth time that hour.

The new club was lively tonight well obviously they are all here for the same reason you are. Looking towards Lando I saw that he was more interested in the glass than whatever Marg was actually saying to him which was odd but you cant deny Lando had picked a really gorgeous girl slim, blonde hair a model all-check box list that you couldn't really check for him yes you was jealous of Marg knowing that she has something that you don't which you truly wished you had "hey Lando shall we get the drinks?" ben spoke interrupting your thoughts which honestly you was actually thankful for but looking at lando it's like his thoughts been interrupted to "uh yeah sure"

Lando looks over towards you every chance he can get to make sure you are okay "So you and Marg eh?" Ben spoke making his eyes leave you "' we're really not together she's just one of my huck-ups" taking a sip of his beer while waiting for the other orders "Oh well if we're on that category" Ben paused "I'm only with her because of you" making Lando look back at him furious his hands tightly around his glass "What!" Lando automatically wants to meet his hands with his face but he knows he cant "Well you're cool and she's your friend so she is my better option" he laughed a little not really observing that Lando was mad "Are you joking Ben that women has everything that you need why!" "well the sex is another good thing" that was it for Lando his fist connecting to his face.

However, y/n saw everything running towards the boys "What the hell Lando!" dragging Ben next to her and looking at his face "Tell her what you told me tell her!" Y/N looked confused towards Ben but only he smirked: "I don't know what you're talking about?" Lando's hands fisted once again "this dickhead told me he only wants you Y/N because you are my friend and I quote that sex is another good thing" She didn't want to hear more "Please tell me he's joking Ben please" but ben just shrugged and nodded "then Lando had the right to hit you and hear I am stupid defending your dumb arse" she didn't want to see her cry that just shows that he won Lando grabbed her hand walking her out off the club

"I'm so sorry Lando I'm so sorry to defend him over you I don't know what to say" the tears slowly coming out Landos hand automatically wiping them away "Listen love I totally understand you didn't know you didn't listen you wasn't their I get it" out off all the words Lando know what to do or say he knew how to console you and everyday you was grateful for it "shall we go home" you just nodded wanting to get away from this club.

Both Lando and Y/n are wide awake in two separate rooms both of them thinking the same things after tonight y/n truly knew her forever was and it was under her nose forever and honestly it only took for tonight to find out the jealous thoughts when he had women surrounding him wanting to just grab him and just be hers she felt silly letting all these men degrade her when there was one man who praised her made her feel loved and praised the floor she walked on. For Lando, he thought the same the constant jealousy for all the men that she dated.

y/n walked into Lando's room she just about saw his shadow wrapped around the quilt in his bed "Are you awake" she whispered his figure slowly waking up "Come here" his voice responded lifting his quilt covers inviting in quickly jumping in "Thank you for tonight Lando I couldn't thank you enough" Lando grabbed her hand she was thankful that it was dark but the blush she had on her face will probably make her like a tomato "can I be honest with you?" Y/N nodded "Uh Y/N I like you no I love you. you honestly don't understand everything I feel when you tell me you got another boy but after tonight everything I think is because I fell for you a while ago and I'm so sorry that it took me this long to tell you" Y/N leaned over turning the bedside lamp on looking towards Lando's eyes "honestly Lando it took me tonight when in bed with my own little mind to finally understand what I'm actually feeling is that I'm falling in love with you as well I just want to say thank you for making me feel the way I should feel from a man" Lando leant over wiping the tear away from her cheek the one she didn't notice that even left her "can I kiss you" Y/N nodded both of them connected they're lips and after that she knew that Lando was forever.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ © 𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘣𝘺

[wolvietxt]

💭 thinking about…

𝗅𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍 𝗑 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

pairing : logan howlett x fem!reader warnings : anxiety, panic, angst, fluff, overstimulation, implied age gap, pet names, budding relationship au wc : 1.5k a/n : i’m thinking about maybe making the odd prompt list, not sure if anyone would be interested? idk i feel like i have so many ideas on what to write but not enough time to actually write them. lmk if it’s something anyone would be interested in😭

you'd always hated crowded spaces, but this - this was something else entirely.

the pounding bass from the club’s speakers seemed to vibrate through your whole body, and the flashing lights made it impossible to focus on anything for too long. it was all too loud, too chaotic. the mission had been simple: blend in, keep an eye on the target, and extract information. easy enough. except no one had accounted for the fact that a telepath like you could hardly stand in the middle of a packed nightclub without being bombarded by the overwhelming flood of thoughts and emotions from every single person around you.

the drinks, the laughter, the flirtations happening at every corner - they were suffocating. you tried to block them out, but your mental shields were already thin, your energy worn down from the mission prep. and now, with the music and flashing lights adding to the noise in your head, everything was starting to blur together. the alcohol from earlier wasn’t helping either.

you stood near the edge of the room, trying to focus on anything other than the mental cacophony around you. the team was scattered throughout the club, everyone doing their part to blend in with the crowd. but for you, it was becoming harder to concentrate on the task at hand. the target’s thoughts were buried under a thousand others, each one screaming for attention inside your mind.

you felt sick, like the world was spinning too fast. the room was closing in. your head pounded, and you could feel a sharp nausea creeping up your throat. you needed to get out of there, away from the noise, the thoughts, the people.

a warm hand suddenly brushed against your arm, pulling you out of the spiral you were falling into. you turned, blinking, and found logan standing beside you. his sharp eyes were locked on you, concern written all over his face. he’d always been able to read you better than anyone else on the team, even without telepathy.

“you alright, kid?” his voice cut through the haze, gruff but steady. it was like an anchor, something real and solid to focus on.

you nodded quickly, though it was a lie. “i’m fine,” you muttered, but the words felt weak, shaky.

logan didn’t buy it for a second. “yeah, bullshit,” he muttered, his hand still resting on your arm, grounding you. “you’re lookin’ pale as hell. c’mon, bub.”

before you could protest, logan gently but firmly led you toward the exit, weaving through the crowd with ease. you followed, grateful for his presence. the second you stepped outside, the cool night air hit you, and you felt like you could finally breathe again.

logan guided you away from the line of people waiting to get in and toward a quieter spot around the corner of the building, far from the pounding music. the noise from inside was muffled now, and without the sea of thoughts crashing into you from all sides, your head began to clear, just a little.

“better?” logan asked, his voice softer now, though still carrying that rough edge that was so inherently him.

you nodded, taking a deep breath. “yeah… yeah, much better. thanks.”

he leaned back against the brick wall, folding his arms across his chest, watching you carefully. he didn’t push, didn’t demand an explanation, but you could tell by the way his eyes narrowed slightly that he knew something was wrong.

“it’s just... the noise in there,” you said after a moment, your voice quiet, almost embarrassed. “not just the music, but the people. their thoughts. it’s... it’s a lot.”

logan’s expression softened, just a little. he might not understand telepathy the way you experienced it, but he got it in his own way. he knew what it was like to have too much going on in your head, to feel overwhelmed by things out of your control.

“should’ve said somethin’,” he muttered, though his tone wasn’t harsh. “i would’ve gotten you outta there sooner.”

you shook your head. “i didn’t want to mess up the mission.”

“the mission doesn’t matter if you’re about to pass out,” he shot back, his eyes flashing with irritation - not at you, but at the situation. “you gotta take care of yourself.”

you sighed, leaning against the wall beside him. “i know. ‘s just... hard. when you’re in a place like that, and everyone’s thinking all at once, it’s like - ” you shrugged, trying to find the right words. “it’s like being underwater. you can hear everything muffled, but it’s all too much at the same time. i couldn’t block them all out.”

logan was quiet for a moment, processing what you said. then he nodded, as if he understood. “well, you’re outta there now. you don’t need to go back in. the rest of us can handle it.”

you frowned, shaking your head. “no, i can’t leave the team like that. we’re supposed to - ”

“hey,” he interrupted, his voice low but firm. “you’ve done enough, kid. let us take it from here.” his gaze softened as he looked down at you. “besides, you ain’t leavin’ us hangin’. you’re just takin’ a breather. nothin’ wrong with that.”

you met his eyes, feeling a little less guilty under his steady gaze. he was right, of course. but it still felt wrong to step back when the rest of the team was inside, working.

“how about this,” logan added, his tone softening. “you stay out here for a bit, get your head straight, and if you’re feelin’ up to it, we’ll go back in together. but only if you’re ready.”

his words made you relax a little more. the pressure to keep pushing through was gone, and the idea of taking a break, even if just for a few minutes, didn’t feel so bad when he framed it like that.

“okay,” you agreed softly. “i think... i think i need a few minutes.”

logan nodded, satisfied with your answer. he pushed away from the wall and motioned toward a nearby bench. “sit down for a sec. no rush.”

you followed him, sinking onto the bench gratefully. the fresh air felt good, like it was clearing away the fog in your mind. logan sat beside you, silent but present, his arm resting on the back of the bench, his fingers grazing your shoulder lightly.

“how do you do it?” you asked after a few minutes, your voice barely above a whisper.

logan glanced at you, eyebrow raised. “do what?”

“stay so calm,” you murmured, staring down at your hands. “you’re always in control. even when everything’s going crazy, you just... keep it together.”

he huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “you think i’m calm?”

you looked at him, a little surprised by his response. “well, yeah. you always seem like you’ve got it under control.”

logan’s gaze softened as he met your eyes. “darlin’, i ain’t always calm. most of the time, i’m just as pissed off or frustrated as the next guy. but i learned a long time ago that lettin’ it take over don’t do any good. doesn’t mean it’s easy, but... you get used to it.”

you frowned slightly, processing what he said. “so... you’re just used to it?”

“nah,” he corrected, his voice softer now. “i’m used to dealin’ with it. there’s a difference. but i had to figure that out the hard way. you’ll get there, bub. more easily i hope.”

you nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. it wasn’t the same as what you were dealing with, but in a way, it felt like he understood more than anyone else on the team ever could. and the fact that he was here, sitting with you, offering quiet support, meant more than you could express.

“thanks,” you said after a moment, glancing up at him with a small smile. “for getting me out of there. for... everything.”

logan looked at you for a beat, his expression softening. “anytime,” he muttered, his voice gruff but genuine.

for a while, the two of you just sat there in the quiet, the night air cool against your skin. the noise and chaos of the club were distant now, and with logan beside you, the overwhelming thoughts and emotions that had threatened to drown you finally felt manageable.

“you ready to head back in?” logan asked after a few minutes, though his tone wasn’t pushy.

you hesitated for a second, then shook your head. “not yet.”

he smirked slightly, nodding. “good. let’s stay out here a bit longer.”

you smiled, leaning into his shoulder, and he didn’t pull away. instead, his arm settled around you, holding you close as the night stretched on, the two of you finding a moment of peace amidst the chaos.

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[xiao-come-home]

Thinking about post-story Jiaoqiu trying to find himself in the new situation.. and getting even more clingier 🤧

warning: spoilers for jaoqiu's story if you havent played the new quest. possible ooc jiaoqiu?

Word count: 1k+

a/n: its been a while from writing and even tho im not disabled in any way, i hope its alright bc im kinda nervous to post this. i just think hed be a lovely pain in the butt to get more love </3

The new reality has been a true challenge for Jiaoqiu - trying to navigate through the house was already a tedious task, let alone cooking, but he wasn't going to give up so easily. While yes, he did miss doing things by himself - which, once in a while brought dark clouds over his head - the foxian managed to find enjoyment through doing tasks together, with your help.

It's quite known that Jiaoqiu isn't afraid of craving affection from you anywhere and anytime - especially now, considering he's limited in what he's able to do safely without hurting himself. Now that you're welcome in the kitchen to assist him, the pink-haired foxian can't help, but pull you flush against him while you carefully guide his hands to cut vegetables in even slices.

The healer slowly trails the tip of his nose down your hair until he recognizes the familiar shape of your neck - Jiaoqiu nuzzles happily into you, ever so slightly tickling you and giving you goosebumps; he smiles against your skin when you let out a comically fake, tired sigh, only fueling him to continue pestering you further.

He purposely takes his chin off the top of your head and searches for your ears so he's able to whisper, but when you decide to playfully confront him, Jiaoqiu only plays dumb and tilts his head to the side, asking you a seemingly innocent question, "Hmm? What do you mean, love? I'm not doing anything, the kitchen is not a playground, remember?"

There's a chance you'd probably believe him if you two were mere coworkers - but his twitching ears always give away his attempts to lie to you.

Jiaoqiu is clingy. Absolutely no news to anybody. That's when you finally get done with cooking, it's time for the cunning foxian to get a break; he stretches his arms to you, waiting until you put his hands on your cheeks. He cups them gently, rubbing the soft flesh with his thumb, and softly moves it to find your lips - his mind paints a picture of your figure, the shape and every crease his fingers feel; he smiles at you yet again, with a glimmer of mischief.

He wants to kiss you.

He also knows he will most likely miss your lips more or less.

But instead of feeling hopeless, he uses it to his advantage.

Jiaoqiu begins to pepper your face in kisses until he feels you try to get away from him and hears your angelic giggles; he kisses your left eyebrow - oh no, that's definitely not the place he's aiming for! He moves more to the right and kisses the bridge of your nose - oh no, not yet! The softness of his lips meets the apple of your cheek - oh, that's closer, but still not the goal he has in his mind...

After a while of Jiaoqiu purposely changing directions (and probably missing some anyway, but it's not like he complains about it, since he can kiss you more this way), with a little help of yours, he places a kiss on the corner of your lips, barely giving you time to breathe and finally, finally reaching his awaited destination, pressing his lips on yours; he gives you a few quick kisses if he feels like he still misses the exact place to change the angle, melting into a puddle with butterflies in his stomach.

Is it hard sometimes? Yes. The heavy weight travels straight to his heart, leaving him clenching his fists; the foxian hates the helplessness that hurts twice as much, much worse than the wounds Hoolay has inflicted.

Nowadays, his ears pick up your step way better, even letting him guess correctly what jar of herbs you're opening from the mere sound. He uses his tail as some sort of object detector - but he only waves his fan innocently when it makes you yelp in surprise, as Jiaoqiu runs the tip down your spine all the way down.

"Ah, I wonder what that was?" Jiaoqiu wonders, the fluffy ears twitching and the pink tail swishing behind him, "Is something wrong, beloved? Did you mess up the measurements? No worries, we'll fix it right away."

Well, if you decide to leave the house for supplies, you now have to hold his hand all the time. Just to be sure, he also wraps his tail around you, so he knows you're by his side and he doesn't bump into anybody. Hey, he's just thinking about the civilians around him! As a doctor, there's nothing else that matters more than keeping them safe and healthy... Right?

Even though he's been braiding his hair for years and could probably do it by himself again - being only a tiny bit off on one side, he cuddles up to you in the morning and presses kisses onto your neck, silently asking you to help him once you get out of bed - you certainly can't miss his hair getting all up in your face... and therefore, what he's asking for.

Does he feel a liiiitle desperate? Mmm, a bit.

Does he feel like he's feeding the helplessness in the back of his mind? Sometimes.

But it's worth to look for happy moments regardless of the situation - and you being perfectly aware he's doing it solely to get even more of your attention - makes him feel a little better with it.

Though, he knows when to stop and give you space; he doesn't want to actually become your burden, even if he lost his sight, he's still trying his best to stay as independent as possible in terms of daily tasks as possible.

If you're tired, Jiaoqiu waits until you hand him the brush and he's the one combing your hair; if you're too sleepy in the morning, he's the one helping you put on your clothes with verbal help, even if it takes a bit more time than usual. Along with you, he organizes medicines so neatly, it takes a blink of an eye for him to bring a full tray of medicines when you happen to catch a cold.

Does he miss being able to see? More than he'd admit.

But the more he thinks, the pink-haired foxian always comes to the same conclusion - it'll probably be harder to unlearn the clinginess once his eyesight comes back...

But for now, maybe it's alright to indulge a little more?

[seungcheorry]

heyy i love ur writing so much and i was wondering that maybe can you please do something like how svt would act in fromt of their members? thank youu and have a nice day hehe

hi, thank you so much for suggesting! i wrote this thinking about how they would act in front of their members when they're in love. hope you have a nice day too. ❤️🍒

seungcheol tries to play it cool so much, but the way he's constantly smiling or how he acts when you call him is enough for his members to tease him. they're happy for him, though.

jeonghan acts like it's no big deal, but if any member asks about you, he'll answer "i'm gonna marry them" in a heartbeat. he just knows better than to give his boys a reason to tease him, you know?

joshua is a cinnamon roll through and through, so he doesn't hide that he's happy and in love. might even let some of his members (dk and boo) say hi to you whenever he calls you. if anyone tries to tease him, he just goes "yeah, so what?".

jun is very discreet, it's not like he doesn't want his brothers to know that he's in love, he's just... private about it? so they definitely only find out after months, but once they do jun makes sure to tell them everything about you (they're just high school girls giggling and kicking their feet atp).

soonyoung couldn't care less how his members see him. yes, he's whipped; yes, he's a simp; no, he can't stay for too long tonight because he promised he would take you out for dinner. are you listening to the members cooing him? can you see how bright his smile is though?

wonwoo is shy when it comes to romantic business, so he's doesn't act a kinda way. his members know better than to tease him, i mean, jeonghan and seungkwan might try to crack a joke just so wonwoo can open up a little about you, but other than that they just know that he's dating because he has this shy, silly smile on his face whenever he's on his phone.

jihoon doesn't have a specific way to act when he's in love. he might be more on his phone and paying less attention to his surroundings, but that also happens when he's really tired from work. he convinces himself that the members won't know that he's in love if he doesn't tell them, but seungcheol and probably soonyoung saw it coming for a long time now.

seokmin is another silly, whipped guy. he can't shut up about you, everything reminds him of you, and that's a whole plate for his members to tease him about it. he may get annoyed sometimes, sulk a little bit, but his brothers know the moment to stop and give him a break - they know seokmin probably better than anyone.

mingyu already gets bullied on a daily basis by his members, so when they know that he's in love that's just another excuse to mock him (lovingly). it's nothing that mingyu can't handle it, so he doesn't actually care when he tells joshua about the date you two had last night and seungkwan overhears and starts to make kiss sounds just to annoy gyu.

minghao isn't big on sharing his romantic feelings with his members, so there's nothing to tease him about it. they will accuse him of hiding that he's in love though, and minghao will literally be like "i'm acting normal, you guys are just dumb" - and tbh? he ain't lying, he really is acting normal.

seungkwan tries sooo hard to play it cool and pretends it's not a big deal, but at the first "how's y/n doing?" vernon shoots him he'll start to run his mouth about you and won't shut up for at least 1 hour. but no, if anyone asks him he is NOT in love and he is NOT a simp 🙄.

vernon is kinda shy to let everyone know that he's in love and in a relationship (shy, not ashamed!!), so he will try to act like nothing is happening. oh, that's no one on the phone, sofia just told him a really good joke, yeah. sorry he can't come to that restaurant with minghao tonight, he's sooo tired, he'll just head home- until seokmin asks him "so... who's the lucky one?" and he goes 🥹 and spills the beans.

chan is a mix of seungcheol and seokmin. at first he tries his best to be the cool, laid-back guy; but when his hyungs start to tease him about his new partner, he's like "you know what? might as well express my feelings", and then he won't shut up about it and any time someone says "oooh he's in love" he will reply "yes, i am 🥺". chan is a loverboy, i'm afraid.

[some-stars]

ok so like

what do we think are logan's actual flaws? like ways that he will legitimately make mistakes and hurt his partner in a relationship? (also totally interested in hearing people's thoughts about wade, but i feel like we as a fandom do have a slightly better handle on things he is likely to genuinely do wrong.)

because--and this is NOT a criticism of fic that is happy ever after romances where once the self-esteem and miscommunication is resolved they are simply Good For Each Other forever, i fucking LOVE fics like that and i plan on writing, at minimum, another dozen of them--but i am also deeply interested in stories about, like. they love each other and they probably do make it work eventually but it's hard sometimes, and what is that like? how does that look? how do they hurt each other?

and yes that's partly because i love dark sad shit but i also really love stories about repairing relationships, and you kind of have to damage the relationship first before you can put it back together.

so hit me, how does logan fuck things up with wade? or vice versa? i want to hear EVERYONE'S thoughts please.

[stylesispunk]

"Eternal whispers of you"

marcus acacius x f!reader

Summary: In a time of ancient empires, the forbidden love between a powerful general, Marcus Acacius, and the emperor's sister was met with tragedy. Their affair was discovered, and the emperor cursed his sister to live an eternal life, forced to witness Marcus die in every lifetime without the chance to love him fully again. After a thousand lives, would they meet again?

w.c: 13k (this was supposed to be 8k.)

warnings: angst, power imbalance, loss, separation, mentions of curse, some historical mistakes, the story also takes place in the modern day (I'm telling you) not proofreading. paragraphs in cursive indicate flashbacks.

a/n: This idea was better in my head, but the last Gladiator 2 trailer made me feel things and inspired me to write this. You will also notice inspiration from "The Age of Adeline" in this story. I hope you like it cuz it took me three days to write it. You will notice some inaccurate facts but it was for the sake of the story and my imagination, don't judge me, please. Happy reading and PLEASE share your thoughts with me. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. 💌

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

********"

You were cursed to a life without an ending. Lonely and loveless, every day of your life or any love you could find wouldn't reciprocate and you were going to be condemned to see them grow old and die, and you would continue to live a life in an endless cycle of tragedy.

You were condemned to just tell stories about the man of your life, the one who had been murdered and punished to die without honor for your brother's poisoned mouth.

You became a traitor for the empire. But not cries out of shame or the dirty words of people hurt as much as the day you hold Marcus’s hand for the last time as his eyes closed in a forever eternity that you were going to live without him.

Not even death could put you both together in the same path. You were cursed to remember his love, and you were cursed to never see him again and to live a never-ending life without the love who made your life a field of dreams.

The night after your love affair with Marcus was discovered. The emperor, your brother, furious with your betrayal, condemned both of you. You were summoned to the imperial court, where your brother delivered the punishment. His words sting like venom, cursing Marcus to die dishonorably in front of your eyes.

That night still haunted you.

The imperial court was dimly lit by the flickering flames of torches, casting shadows across the towering marble columns. You stood at the center, your heart pounding like war drums in your chest. Your brother, sat upon his gilded throne, his eyes dark with fury. You could barely hear the words that escaped his lips, but their venom poisoned the air between you.

“Traitor,” he spat, his voice echoing through the chamber. “You have betrayed not only your empire but your blood.”

Your eyes flicked to Marcus, kneeling beside you, bound and bruised. The strong, unyielding general was barely recognizable under the weight of chains and despair. His gaze, however, remained fixed on you, calm, resolute, and filled with love that no curse could shatter.

Your brother’s face twisted with rage as he stood, his robes sweeping the floor like the wings of a vulture. “You,” he snarled, his finger pointing at Marcus, “will die with dishonor, like a common criminal for taking advantage of my sister. And you,” he turned to you, his eyes burning with hatred, “You will be cursed to an eternal life, loveless and alone. You will remember this betrayal every waking moment for the rest of your existence, and you will never know peace again.”

Tears pricked your eyes, but you did not flinch. The emperor’s voice rose like a storm. “You will watch him die, over and over, in your memory. And with every death you witness, you will be reminded that this is your doing. You will live forever, but you will die inside every day.”

With a gesture of his hand, the guards dragged Marcus away. His eyes never left yours, filled with an unspoken promise of love that neither time nor curse could take from you. You reached for him, your fingers grazing his as they pulled him further from you, his touch slipping away like sand between your fingers.

You screamed his name, but your voice was swallowed by the cold, empty hall. The weight of your brother’s words crashed down on you like a wave, and you fell to your knees. The curse had already begun.

The day of Marcus’s execution came far too soon.

They paraded him through the streets like a criminal, his once-glorious armor stripped from him, replaced with the rags of the condemned. The crowd jeered and spat, but you saw none of it. All you saw was Marcus, broken, yet still impossibly strong.

You stood at the front of the crowd, the place of honor reserved for the emperor’s family, forced to witness the final blow. As they prepared to end his life, your heart pounded in your chest, each beat screaming for you to do something, to save him.

But you were powerless.

Marcus turned his head toward you one last time, his eyes soft, filled with a love that had transcended the horror of the moment. His lips moved, forming words meant only for you.

“I will find you again.”

With that, the sword fell.

The world shattered around you. You dropped to your knees as the crowd roared with approval, but the noise was drowned out by the sound of your heart breaking. You clutched your chest, feeling the jagged pieces of your soul tearing at you, but the pain wasn’t enough to free you from the curse. You couldn’t escape. The curse wouldn’t let you.

You watched as Marcus’s body was dragged away, knowing you would never hold him again.

++

After Marcus’ death, you begin to experience your immortality firsthand. You don’t age, but the world around you does. At first, the pain is too great, and you isolate yourself, haunted by the memory of his final moments. You visit his grave every day, talking to him as if he were still alive.

There’s a sense of numbness, a hollow ache where his presence used to be. You realize the gravity of your curse the first time you notice gray hairs on the friends and people around you, but none on yourself. While others grow old and die, you remain the same, a constant in a world of change.

You slowly started to see the empire fall, and with it the death caught your family, one by one. Geta was the first, the middle of a family you now considered cursed. The, your mother and father met the same fate, and finally, Caracalla met death too, murdered by a soldier. He died without honor and he would be remembered as the cruelest imperator, you would make sure of it.

You were the only left from the fallen family, you could have saved the empire from breaking into pieces, but you weren’t going to sacrifice any second from your eternal life on it, so you erased yourself from Rome and from the history of it.

You left Rome behind, watching the city fall to ruin, its power crumbling with each passing year. The empire you had once known, that had been ruled by your family, was now a memory, a fading echo in the vastness of time. You no longer belonged there, and you had no desire to preserve what had been lost. The weight of your curse consumed you, drowning out any loyalty you might have once felt.

Instead, you wandered, drifting across continents and centuries. At first, you tried to hide, retreating to the furthest corners of the earth, away from people, away from the pain of watching those around you wither and die. Each new connection, each fleeting friendship, was a reminder of the man you could never forget, of Marcus's warm touch and his promise to find you again, unfulfilled.

But the world was relentless, and no matter how much you tried to isolate yourself, it continued to grow, to change. Civilizations rose and fell, each one leaving its mark on history, yet you remained untouched by time. You began to realize the truth of your brother’s curse, not just the eternity of your life, but the eternal loneliness that accompanied it.

The worst part wasn’t just the loss of your family or Marcus’s death; it was the fact that no matter where you went or how much time passed, you could never escape the memory of him. The grief was always there, lingering just beneath the surface, a shadow following you wherever you went. You carried the weight of his death, not just as a memory, but as an unending, crushing reality that haunted your dreams and your waking moments.

In the centuries that followed, you watched as kingdoms rose from the ashes of the Roman Empire. You saw the birth of new religions, new governments, new ways of thinking, but you remained on the outside, forever watching, forever unchanged. While others lived their lives, you were a ghost, slipping through the cracks of history, unnoticed and unseen.

But you could never forget Marcus. No matter how hard you tried to distance yourself from the pain, he was always there in your thoughts. His memory became your only companion, the one thing that time could never take from you. You told stories of him, of his strength, his courage, his love, but never revealed the truth. They were just tales to those who listened, history that no one could verify, but for you, they were the only way to keep his memory alive.

You returned to his grave as often as you could, though as the centuries passed, even that became more difficult. The world changed around you, the landscapes shifted, cities were built and destroyed, and the places you had once known became unfamiliar. His grave, once a sacred place for you, was lost to time. It was one of the last connections you had to him, and when it was gone, it felt as though a piece of you had been taken too.

There were moments when you tried to end your existence, hoping to find Marcus in the afterlife. You throw yourself into battles, attempt poison, even seek out dark magic, but nothing works. The curse prevented any harm from lasting.

The curse ensures that you never forget Marcus, his face, his touch, the sound of his voice. You find yourself returning to places that remind you of him, like the old battlefield where you first met, or the quiet corners of the palace where you shared stolen moments.

You often found yourself returning to places that held memories of Marcus. The battlefield where you first met, where he had caught your eye in the midst of the chaos, remained sacred to you. You would stand there, recalling the way your heart raced when he first spoke to you. The palace too, though long gone, remained vivid in your mind. You could still hear the echo of your laughter as you shared secret moments in the quiet corners, moments stolen from the prying eyes of the court.

But none of these memories could fill the void that had been left behind. You were a shell of who you had once been, and your existence was now defined by the absence of Marcus.

You became a witness, watching people fall in love, create families, grow old, and die. It was a cycle you had been denied, and it filled you with both longing and bitterness. The worst part of your immortality wasn't the endless life itself, it was the endless isolation, the inability to ever truly connect with anyone again.

In the present day, the weight of centuries finally began to take its toll. You had lived through empires, witnessed the birth of new nations, and seen countless lives come and go. Yet, no matter where you went or how much time passed, you remained haunted by Marcus’s memory. He was always there, a specter in your mind, the only constant in your immortal existence.

After wandering aimlessly for decades, you found yourself drawn to history once again, not just as a passive observer, but with a deep desire to preserve the past.

You were in a quiet bookstore, surrounded by shelves of dusty books. Your hands ran over the spines of history texts as you stopped at a volume about Ancient Rome. The familiar symbols, the names, even the dates of battles were etched in your mind like scars. You paused on a chapter dedicated to General Marcus Acacius, your Marcus. He was remembered as a hero, a man of honor, but the truth of his death, the betrayal, has been lost to history. You smiled at the thought that even Caracalla’s venom words, didn’t tinted Marcus’s name on history.

The memories fled back in an instant, the first time you saw Marcus commanding his troops, his fierce yet kind eyes, the way he smiled when no one else was looking. It was a painful nostalgia, one that made your chest tighten. You’ve avoided facing the truth about the Roman Empire for so long, unable to face the weight of those memories. But you realized now that telling Marcus’ story was the only way to keep him alive.

You left the bookstore, a decision already made in your heart. You would become a history teacher, and through your lessons, you would keep Marcus alive in a way that no curse could take from you.

At the first day in the classroom. The desks were arranged neatly, sunlight streaming through the windows, and your students were filing in. You stood at the front of the room; your hands rested on the chalkboard. It was strange, being back on an important role where you were meant to pass on knowledge. But for you, this was more than just education, it was a form of remembrance.

You felt a mixture of nerves. This was a chance to talk about Marcus again, to give him the honor he was stripped of in life. You weren’t sure if you were becoming crazy through this endless circle, and you didn’t know if you still were twisting the knife of endless memories you had of him, but you know that this was the closest you had been to him. As you students settled in, you introduce yourself, with a new of the thousand names you had had during your long life. You dove into your lecture about the Roman Empire. When you mentioned Marcus, your voice faltered just slightly, but you pressed on, determined to honor him in the only way left to you.

As you stood before your students, your mind wandered back to the times when you were with Marcus, the memories flooding in, unbidden but unstoppable. The classroom around you faded, and the vivid images of the Roman Empire took over. You were no longer in the present, but back in the heart of ancient Rome, standing beside him, your love, your general.

It was a warm summer evening in Rome. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky awash in shades of deep orange and purple. You and Marcus were hidden away in a secluded corner of the palace, stealing a moment of peace amid the constant threat of discovery. His armor had been discarded, instead he was wearing his cloak as if it could erase the responsibility off his shoulders. In that moment, he was not a general, he was just Marcus, yours, the man you loved.

His hand brushed against yours, sending a shiver up your spine. You had to be careful, even here. The walls had ears, and the court was always watching. But with him, you found yourself willing to take the risk. The world outside your bubble of stolen moments didn't matter. Not the empire, not your brother, not the looming consequences. Just Marcus.

"You should go," he whispered, his voice low and rough. "It's too dangerous."

But you shook your head, stepping closer, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "I don't care," you whispered back, your heart racing. "Let them find out. Let the whole world know. I love you, Marcus."

He looked down at you, his dark eyes softening as they always did when he gazed at you. He placed a gentle hand on your cheek, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I love you too," he said, his voice filled with the same intensity you had come to depend on, but laced with sorrow. "But your family will not be kind to us.”

You knew he was right. You both did. The affair was treason, a betrayal to the honor of your family, to your brother. But the pull between you was too strong, too undeniable. It had started innocently enough, during the long strategy meetings Marcus held with your brother. You had caught glimpses of him, and over time, those stolen glances had become longer, lingering. Before you knew it, you were sneaking away from the palace, meeting him in secret, hiding your love from the watchful eyes of Rome.

In that moment, though, none of it mattered. He leaned down and kissed you, softly at first, as if testing the boundaries of your defiance, then more passionately, as if the whole world could burn for all he cared. You melted into his embrace, letting yourself get lost in the heat of the moment, your mind clouded by desire and the need to be close to him.

You snapped back to the present, your heart still racing as if you had just been pulled from Marcus’s arms. The students stared at you, waiting. You realized you had paused in the middle of your lecture, lost in the memory. Quickly, you cleared your throat, steadying your voice before continuing.

"General Marcus Acacius was one of the finest commanders Rome ever produced. He led with strength and honor, but..." you hesitated, a lump forming in your throat. "But history doesn’t always remember those who deserve it most. He died in dishonor, stripped of his title and his legacy.”

Your students watched you, unaware of the deep, personal meaning those words held for you. They were listening to a lesson, but you were recounting the loss of your greatest love.

And that’s how week after week, your lectures became more detailed. The students were captivated by your knowledge of the Roman Empire, unaware that you were telling them stories of your own life. When you spoke of the campaigns Marcus led, your tone softened, and the students sense the reverence in your words. They asked questions about him, and you answer with more care than you do for any other figure in Roman history.

Speaking about Marcus became a bittersweet ritual. You felt the same pain as you did centuries ago, but there was a strange comfort in saying his name aloud. With every story you tell, you feel like you were giving him a second life, bringing him back into the world if only for a moment. The students didn’t know it, but they were learning about a man who shaped you in ways that any book could never explain.

After class, you often sat alone in your office, a single lamp casting a dim glow. Old books of the Roman Empire were spread out before you, but your mind drifted away. You thought about the moments you shared with Marcus, the way he used to hold you after long days of battle, the whispered promises of a future that was stolen from you both.

The loneliness that had followed you for centuries still lingered, but teaching about him helped ease it, if only slightly. It was as though every time you speak his name, you were defying the curse, keeping his memory alive despite the gods’ punishment. But there were nights when the pain was too much, and you felt the weight of eternity pressing down on you. You wonder if Marcus could hear you, if somewhere, in some distant place, he knows you were still fighting to keep his honor intact.

It was late, the room lit only by the flicker of a single oil lamp. You were lying beside Marcus, the cool night seeping through the cracks of the window shutters. The war outside had raged on for weeks, but in this quiet moment, there was only the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of each other's presence.

His arm was draped across your waist, his fingers tracing delicate patterns over the back of your hand. His touch was gentle, a contrast to the hardened general the world saw. Here, with you, he allowed himself to be vulnerable. You shifted slightly, laying your head on his chest, feeling the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you.

"You know we can't keep this up forever," he whispered, his voice thick with weariness and something more. Fear, perhaps. Or resignation.

You didn’t reply right away. You knew the truth of his words there was always the looming threat of discovery, of punishment. But in this moment, you wanted to pretend, just for a little longer, that the world outside didn’t exist. That this wasn’t forbidden. That you weren’t living on borrowed time.

He caressed your hand, the roughness of his calloused fingers a stark reminder of the battles he fought, the sacrifices he made. "I would give it all up, you know," he continued, his voice soft, barely audible. "The empire, the glory, everything. Just to stay here with you."

Your heart twisted painfully at his words. You knew he meant them, and you wanted to believe in a future where such sacrifices could lead to a peaceful life together. But you both knew better. The weight of duty and the ever-watchful eyes of the emperor, your brother, were never far from your thoughts.

"You don't have to give up anything, Marcus," you whispered, bringing your hand to his cheek, guiding his gaze to yours. "I love you as you are. And for as long as we have, that will be enough for me."

But even as you said the words, a sinking feeling settled in your chest. You had always known that the empire was a ruthless machine, and it would not allow your love to exist without a price. Still, you closed your eyes, pressing your lips to his, letting the kiss linger as though you could keep time at bay, as though you could stop the inevitable.

When you pulled away, Marcus smiled faintly, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "If only we could stay like this forever," he murmured.

You leaned back in your chair, the weight of eternity pressing down once again. Could Marcus hear you now? Could he feel your longing across the vast time? You didn’t know. But you hoped, no, you believed that somehow, somewhere, he still held you in his heart, just as you held him in yours.

One day, a student stayed behind after class, intrigued by the depth of your knowledge about Marcus Acacius. “It’s like you knew him,” she said, half-joking. “How do you know so much about his life? There’s not much written about him in the sources we have.”

For a moment, you’re taken aback. You’ve been careful to keep your personal connection to Marcus hidden, but the student’s words strike a chord. You felt the urge to tell her the truth, that you did know him, that you loved him, that you were cursed to live on without him. But instead, you smile softly and say, “I’ve studied him for a very long time. Some stories just stay with you.”

The student nodded, satisfied with your answer, but as she left, you felt a pang of longing. You wished, just once, you could tell someone the truth. But you know the world wasn’t ready for your story. It’s a secret you’ll carry alone.

As the years passed, teaching became your refuge. You taught more than just facts and dates, you taught the human side of history, the emotions and relationships that shaped the past. Through your stories, Marcus lived on in the minds of your students, and that gave you a small sense of peace.

The curse still lingered, and the pain of losing Marcus never would fade completely. But through your lectures, you’ve found a way to keep his memory alive. You couldn’t bring him back, but you could ensure that he was remembered, not as the man who was unjustly killed, but as the honorable general who loved you. In that way, you fought against the curse, turning your suffering into something meaningful.

One afternoon, as your students filled out of the classroom, you noticed one student lingering behind, gathering his things slowly. You've been watching him for a few weeks now, and it hasn’t escaped your attention that he always sat alone, quiet and withdrawn. His name was David, and though he never caused any disruptions, he seemed distant from the rest of the class, lost in thought, barely engaging with the lessons.

You decide it was time to reach out.

After the classroom emptied, you approached David as he slanged his backpack over one shoulder. His eyes remained downcast, and you sensed a heaviness about him, something familiar in the way he seemed to carry the world on his shoulders.

“David,” you said gently, “can I speak to you for a moment?”

He glanced up, surprised, but nodded. You gestured toward the front of the room, and he hesitantly followed you. The two of you sat across from each other, the quietness of the empty classroom made the moment more intimate.

You saw something familiar on him, soft brown eyes

You looked at David and felt a strange sense of recognition. His soft brown eyes held a weight that was all too familiar, reminding you of someone you had long ago lost. The resemblance was subtle, but it struck a chord deep within you, like an echo from a past you had tried to forget.

"Is everything alright?" you asked gently, hoping to break through the wall he had built around himself.

David shrugged, staring down at the desk in front of him. “I’m fine,” he mumbled, but you could tell from his tone that he wasn’t.

You leaned forward, trying to catch his gaze. “It’s okay if you're not. You don’t have to pretend with me.”

He glanced up briefly, then away again, the silence between you heavy with unspoken thoughts. There was something more than just teenage angst weighing on him. Something deeper.

“Do you live with your parents?” you asked, thinking you could reach out to them, perhaps offer a meeting to better understand what was troubling him.

David shook his head slowly. “No, it’s just me and my dad.”

His words were like a key, unlocking a door that had remained sealed for centuries. The moment he mentioned his father, a strange chill ran down your spine. You couldn’t explain it, but something inside you shifted, as if the ground beneath your feet had suddenly become unstable.

Before you could ask another question, David continued. “He…he works a lot, doesn’t talk much about stuff. But he cares. I know he does.”

You nodded, sensing a familiar loneliness in his words, one that mirrored your own. “I’d like to meet him,” you said, though the idea stirred something unsettling within you. “Maybe we could have a talk, see if we can help you feel more connected here.”

David shrugged again but didn’t resist. “I guess. I’ll let him know.”

A few days later, you arranged for a meeting with David’s father. As the time approached, you couldn’t shake the unease that had settled into your bones since the conversation with David. There was something about him, about his eyes, his manners, that reminded you of Marcus in a way that felt impossible. But centuries had taught you that the impossible often had a way of finding you.

The classroom door creaked open, and you looked up from your desk. David walked in first, looking a bit anxious, followed by his father. The moment you saw him, your breath caught in your throat.

It was Marcus.

He stood there, lingering by the door, his eyes locking with yours. Though time had passed, and he appeared as someone entirely new, the essence of him, his presence, his soul, was unmistakable. He looked at you with a furrowed brow, as if trying to place you, the same soft brown eyes that had haunted your dreams staring back at you in the flesh.

He stepped in slowly, a tall man with broad shoulders, dark eyes, and a calm yet commanding presence. He looked almost exactly the same as he did all those centuries ago, his hair was streaked with gray, and there was a tiredness around his eyes, but the face, the face was unmistakable.

It was Marcus.

Your heart pounded violently in your chest, and for a split second, you felt dizzy, as if the ground had shifted beneath your feet. Memories fled back, so overwhelming it was as if you were living them all over again: his voice, his touch, the way he smiled at you in those quiet moments when no one else was around. Your throat tightened, your hands trembled, and you could barely breathe. You waited for centuries, living in the shadow of his absence, knowing he would never return to you. And yet, here he is.

You’re stared at a man who didn’t remember the life you shared. A man who looked like Marcus but had no idea of the love, the pain, the eternity you’ve endured without him.

He didn’t recognize you, of course. How could he? You’ve lived for centuries, unchanged, while he, he’d been given a new life, one free from the curse that bound you. He cleared his throat, clearly waiting for you to speak, and it was only then that you realize you’d been standing there, staring.

“Uh… I’m David’s father,” he says, extending a hand. His voice was deeper now, worn by time, but the tone. It was Marcus. It was him.

You forced yourself to take his hand, and the moment your fingers touched, the air in the room seemed to thin. The connection was immediate, electric, and your mind spun with the impossibility of what’s happening. You shook his hand, trying to steady yourself, trying to keep from falling apart.

“I’m… I’m David’s teacher,” you managed to say, your voice shaky. You gave him your name, though you were almost certain the sound of it, the familiarity of it, would spark something in him. But nothing. He was just a man, living an ordinary life, unaware of the past you shared.

He sat down across from you, unaware that this is the most surreal moment of your long, cursed life.

“David’s mentioned he’s been struggling,” he began, looking down at his son, and there was concern in his voice. “I’ve been worried about him. I thought maybe it had to do with his schoolwork.”

You forced yourself to focus, trying to push down the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. How could Marcus be here, sitting in front of you, unchanged yet completely different? He didn’t recognize you, he couldn’t. He had lived and died, while you had remained frozen in time. This man, David’s father, had no knowledge of the centuries of pain you had carried or the love you had lost.

“Yes, David has been a little distant,” you managed to say, your voice barely steady. You glanced at David, who sat quietly next to his father, unaware of the storm brewing inside you. “He’s a bright student, but I’ve noticed he’s been… struggling to engage.”

Marcus—no, not Marcus, David’s father—nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, we’ve had a rough few months,” he admitted, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “I’ve been working a lot, and it’s been just the two of us since his mother left. I think it’s been harder on him than I realized.”

The way he spoke, the cadence of his words, the soft concern in his voice, it was Marcus. Your heart ached with the familiarity of it, but the reality crashed down on you just as quickly. He didn’t know who you were. He didn’t remember anything about the life you had shared, about the love you had lost. To him, you were just another teacher, another stranger.

“I understand,” you replied, trying to keep your voice level. “Maybe we can work together to help him feel more connected. Sometimes, just having a consistent presence can make all the difference.”

As you spoke, your eyes couldn’t help but drift back to him, trying to reconcile the man sitting in front of you with the one who had held you centuries ago. He was so close and yet so impossibly far away. He had no memory of you, no recollection of the love that had once bound you together. It was both a blessing and a curse—he was free from the torment that had plagued you for centuries, but you were left alone in your knowledge of what you had once shared.

“I’ll do whatever I can,” he said, glancing at David with a softness that made your chest tighten. “I want to make sure he’s okay. It’s been tough on both of us.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. This was your Marcus, but not your Marcus. He was a father now, concerned about his son, living a life you had never been a part of.

The meeting wrapped up quickly after that. You offered some advice, discussed possible ways to help David, but all the while, your thoughts were consumed by the impossibility of the situation. As they both left the room, Marcus lingered for a moment by the door, his eyes meeting yours once again.

“I appreciate you taking the time,” he said quietly. “I know it’s not easy, but… it means a lot.”

You nodded, unable to trust your voice. “Of course.”

He gave you a small, almost hesitant smile before he turned and left, his footsteps echoing in the hallway. And then you were alone, the weight of your endless existence pressing down on you once more.

As you sat there, staring at the door through which he had just walked, you realized the cruel twist of fate you now faced. Marcus had been given another chance at life—a chance to live without the burden of the past, without the curse that had chained you to eternity. But you, you remained the same, trapped in an endless cycle of love and loss.

As you sat there in the quiet, the memories of Marcus flooded your mind—his voice, his touch, the way he looked at you all those centuries ago. You were lost in the whirlwind of it when you suddenly heard footsteps approaching. Your heart quickened, and before you could even turn, you knew who it was.

David’s father-Marcus- stood in the doorway again, hesitating for a moment. His brow furrowed in thought, as though something was tugging at the edges of his consciousness, something familiar that he couldn’t quite place. He cleared his throat, and when you finally met his eyes, your heart nearly stopped.

“I know this might sound strange,” he begins, his voice softer now, uncertain. “But… have we met before?”

The question hit you like a punch to the gut. For centuries, you had dreamed of hearing those words, of him somehow remembering you, but now that it was happening, you didn’t know how to respond. How could you explain what was beyond comprehension? That you had loved him deeply, that you had lived lifetimes while he had been reborn, oblivious to the pain you still carried?

You forced a smile, trying to hide the turmoil inside you. “I… I don’t think so,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly.

He looked at you closely, his eyes searching your face, as if trying to pull a long-forgotten memory to the surface. For a fleeting moment, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—the curse wasn’t as strong as you thought. Maybe some part of him did remember.

“There’s just something familiar about you,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, a gesture you remembered all too well. “It’s strange… like I’ve seen you before. Or… I don’t know.” He gave a sheepish laugh. “Maybe I’m just overthinking it.”

You felt your breath catch. It would be so easy to tell him the truth, to give in to the temptation of finally revealing who you really were. But what good would that do? He was living a new life, and you had no place in it.

“Maybe we’ve crossed paths somewhere before,” you replied, your voice steadying even as your heart ached. “The world can be small like that.”

He nodded, but you could see the doubt lingering in his eyes. “Yeah, maybe.” He looked down at the ground for a moment, then back up at you. “Thanks again for everything. I really appreciate it.”

You nodded, offering him a smile that felt like a lie. “Of course. Take care.”

With that, he gave you one last look—one that made your chest tighten—and turned to leave. As his footsteps echoed down the hallway, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had made the right choice in keeping the truth hidden.

For the first time in centuries, you weren’t sure what your future held. All you knew was that Marcus was out there again, living a life you could never be a part of. And once again, you were left with the memories, the only thing that time and the curse had not been able to take from you.

Alone in your office, the weight of eternity pressed down on you more heavily than ever before.

A few days passed, but the encounter with David’s father lingered in your mind like a ghost. You went through your routine, teaching classes, grading papers, keeping up the mask you had worn for centuries. But beneath the surface, the storm raged on. You could still feel the weight of his gaze, the unspoken recognition that had passed between you. He didn’t know the truth, but something inside him remembered.

Meanwhile, across the city, Marcus found himself wrestling with a strange, unshakable feeling. It had been there ever since he met you at the school, a persistent pull that gnawed at him in quiet moments. He tried to push it aside, rationalize it as nothing more than stress, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

At first, it was just small flashes—your face as you had looked at him, the way your voice had trembled ever so slightly when you spoke. There was something familiar about you, something that stirred a sense of déjà vu he couldn’t explain. And then, the dreams began.

They started out hazy at first, fragments of images that disappeared as soon as he woke. A battlefield, the clash of swords, and always…you. Standing there in the distance, watching him. He couldn’t make sense of it, and every morning he woke with the same unsettled feeling gnawing at him.

It got worse with each passing day. He found himself driving by the school on his way to work, glancing at the building as if he might see you standing there. He caught himself wondering what you were doing, if you remembered him in some strange way too. It didn’t make sense, but the pull was real, undeniable.

One night, after tossing and turning in bed, Marcus sat up, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The dreams had returned again, this time more vivid than ever. In them, you had been lying beside him, your fingers intertwined with his as he whispered something he couldn’t quite remember. The sensation was so real, so intense, that he had woken with his heart racing, the image of your face burned into his mind.

He couldn’t keep ignoring it.

The next day, after dropping David off at school, Marcus found himself walking back to the classroom where he had first met you. He didn’t have a clear plan, only a need to see you again, to understand why this strange connection existed between the two of you.

When he arrived, he stood outside the door, hesitating for a moment. What would he even say? He didn’t know if he was ready for whatever this was, or if you would even feel the same pull. But the need to know, to see you, overpowered the doubts.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked softly on the door and waited.

Inside the classroom, you had been in the middle of organizing papers when the knock startled you. You weren’t expecting anyone, and your heart leapt in your chest at the possibility that it could be him. You took a deep breath before opening the door, bracing yourself for whatever was to come.

When you saw Marcus standing there, his familiar brown eyes looking at you with that same confusion and intensity, you knew this moment had been coming. His presence was overwhelming, and for a brief moment, it was as if centuries fell away and you were back in that palace with him, before the curse, before the loss.

“I’m sorry for dropping by like this,” he said, his voice softer than you remembered, though the same cadence was there. “I just… I’ve been thinking about our meeting the other day. I can’t shake this feeling that there’s something—”

He trailed off, searching for the right words, clearly struggling to articulate the pull he was feeling.

You stood there, your heart pounding, knowing that this conversation was teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something you couldn’t fully control.

“Something familiar?” you finished for him, your voice almost a whisper.

His eyes widened slightly, and he nodded. “Yeah. Exactly that.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking almost embarrassed. “I know it sounds crazy, but since I met you, it’s like I can’t stop thinking about it. About you. I keep having these…dreams, and it doesn’t make any sense, but it feels like I’ve known you before.”

Your heart pounded at his words, the weight of centuries crashing down on you all at once. His admission felt like a thread connecting the past to the present, something fragile and dangerous. You had never expected this—Marcus remembering, even if only in fragmented dreams. You could see the struggle in his eyes, the confusion he was trying so hard to make sense of.

You tried to steady your breath, knowing you couldn’t tell him the truth, not yet. It would unravel everything. But his presence, the way he looked at you as if he had known you for lifetimes, made it impossible to keep your emotions in check.

“I’m sure it’s just… coincidence,” you said softly, your voice betraying the turmoil inside you. “People get those feelings sometimes, don’t they? Like they’ve met someone before.”

He studied you for a moment, his brow furrowing. “Maybe.” But he didn’t sound convinced. He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “It’s not just that. It’s something more. And I don’t understand why, but I feel like… I should know you. Like I’m supposed to know you.”

Your pulse quickened. It was dangerous, this line you were walking. If he kept pushing, if he kept searching for answers, the curse could be exposed. Yet, the way his eyes searched yours made your resolve falter. It was Marcus standing before you, but not the Marcus you had known. This was a man who had been granted a new life, free from the past that had chained you both.

“I’m just a teacher,” you said, forcing a small smile. “We only met a few days ago.”

He nodded, but the crease between his brows deepened, as if he was debating with himself, wrestling with whether to leave things be or push further. He took another breath, as though on the verge of saying something else, but then stopped himself, shaking his head slightly.

“I don’t usually do this,” he said, almost to himself, his voice low, hesitant. “But… would you like to get coffee sometime? I mean, not as David’s teacher, but just as… us.”

The question hung in the air between you, and you felt the ground shift beneath your feet. You had lived through countless lives, avoided countless connections, and yet here was Marcus, in this new form, asking you to start something again. It was as if fate was daring you to test the boundaries of the curse.

You hesitated, your heart torn between the longing you had carried for centuries and the knowledge that this was a path filled with danger. If he remembered more, if the past began to bleed into the present, what would that mean for him—for both of you?

“I…” You swallowed, unsure of what to say. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

His face fell slightly, disappointment flickering in his eyes. But then he smiled, trying to mask it. “I get it. I just—there’s something about you…”

Your chest tightened at his words. He was offering you an out, a way to walk away from this, to keep the curse at bay. But deep down, the thought of letting him go again, of walking away from the man you had loved for centuries, felt unbearable.

“I’ll think about it,” you whispered, almost afraid of your own answer.

He nodded, offering you a small, understanding smile. “Take your time.” His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, searching for something he couldn’t quite find. “I’ll see you around.”

And then, he turned to leave, the weight of his unspoken questions hanging in the air like a ghost. You watched him go, your heart aching with the knowledge that fate was once again drawing you both into its web.

The door closed behind him, and you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. This was only the beginning, and you knew it. The past had a way of finding you, no matter how much time had passed.

A few days later, the school hosted a parent-teacher meeting. The hallways buzzed with the low hum of voices, the shuffle of papers, and the occasional sound of children darting between classrooms. You had prepared for a busy evening, but the thought of seeing Marcus again lingered in the back of your mind, an undercurrent to everything else.

You were speaking with another parent when, out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of him. He was standing near the entrance, casually scanning the room. For a moment, he looked lost in thought, his brow furrowed in that familiar way that tugged at your heart. And then, as if sensing your gaze, his eyes met yours.

The world seemed to pause.

The warmth of his smile was immediate, softening his features in a way that was both disarming and comforting. It was as though, in that brief moment, everything else in the room faded away. The connection between you, the pull that had been simmering beneath the surface since that first meeting, was undeniable. His eyes lingered on you, full of recognition that he couldn’t quite place, yet something deep inside of him understood.

As the conversation with the other parent wrapped up, you felt Marcus slowly making his way toward you, weaving through the crowded room. Your heart raced, knowing that whatever happened next, you wouldn’t be able to pretend that the past didn’t exist—not for much longer.

“Hi,” he greeted you, his voice warm and easy as he stopped in front of you.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice barely steady as you met his gaze.

He glanced around briefly before looking back at you. “Busy night?”

You nodded, the weight of the moment making it hard to find words. “Yeah. A lot of parents to talk to.”

Marcus gave a small chuckle. “I guess I’m one of them.” But the tone of his voice suggested he had more in mind than just the usual parent-teacher talk. His eyes searched yours again, that same sense of familiarity clouding his expression.

“You’ve been on my mind,” he admitted softly, leaning in just enough so that his words wouldn’t be overheard by anyone else. “I know it’s probably crazy, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the other day. And… about you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your chest tightening at his words. He was so close now, and you could feel the intensity radiating off him, the same intensity that had bound you together in another life.

“I…” You hesitated, knowing the danger in getting too close, in letting yourself fall into the old patterns. But something in the way he looked at you, the softness in his expression, made it impossible to resist. “I’ve been thinking about it too.”

His smile grew, a flicker of relief crossing his face. “I’m glad it’s not just me.”

You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the same battle he was fighting inside himself—the inexplicable connection, the way the past seemed to bleed into the present even though he couldn’t understand why.

“I know we’re at a parent-teacher meeting,” he said, his voice a bit lower now, “but maybe after this, we could grab that coffee? Well, we could make it, a dinner. I’m still trying to make sense of this, of what I’m feeling, and I’d really like to talk to you… if you’re open to it.”

Your heart ached at the question, knowing that whatever happened, this was Marcus reaching out to you again, even if he didn’t remember the lives you had shared. You felt the weight of the curse pressing down on you, but for the first time in centuries, the idea of keeping your distance felt unbearable.

“I’d like that,” you said, surprising yourself with how easily the words came out.

His eyes lit up at your response, and he smiled again, this time a bit more confidently. “Great. I’ll wait for you after the meeting.”

And with that, he gave you a nod before moving off to join the other parents, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding with anticipation, fear, and hope all at once. You knew this meeting would be the beginning of something far more complicated than either of you could imagine.

++

The rest of the parent-teacher meeting passed in a blur. You were aware of the conversations happening around you, but your mind was somewhere else—focused on what was to come. Marcus had invited you for dinner, a simple gesture that felt monumental in the context of your tangled past. Every minute felt heavier with anticipation, knowing that after so many lifetimes of loss, this was your chance to be near him again, even if he didn’t remember.

When the meeting finally ended, you gathered your things and made your way toward the entrance. You spotted Marcus waiting by the doors, hands in his pockets, eyes searching the crowd. As soon as he saw you, that familiar warmth spread across his face, and for a moment, it was like stepping back in time.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice casual but with an undercurrent of something deeper.

You nodded, offering him a soft smile. “Yeah, ready.”

Together, you made your way out to the parking lot. David was waiting by their car, playing with a small toy in his hands. When he saw you walking with his father, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Dad?” David asked, looking between the two of you. “Why’s my teacher coming with us?”

Marcus glanced down at his son, his smile never wavering as he reached over and tousled David’s hair. “She’s joining us for dinner tonight,” he explained lightly. “I wanted to say thank you for helping out with everything.”

David’s eyes widened, and he looked at you with a mix of curiosity and surprise. “Oh… okay,” he said slowly, clearly trying to process this new development. “So, like, you’re friends with my dad?”

You exchanged a quick glance with Marcus, both of you sharing a silent understanding of how complicated the truth really was.

“Something like that,” you answered with a gentle smile. “We’re just going to have dinner and talk about how to help you in school.”

David seemed to accept this explanation for now, though his gaze lingered on you a little longer before he climbed into the car. As you slid into the passenger seat, your thoughts were swirling. You were entering Marcus’s home, a place that was both familiar and foreign to him—a life he had built without any memory of you.

The drive to their house was quiet, but the tension between you and Marcus was palpable. Every now and then, you caught him glancing at you, as if he were trying to piece something together, to understand why he felt this pull toward you.

When you arrived at their home, Marcus led you inside. It was cozy, filled with the warmth of a lived-in space—family photos, toys scattered across the living room floor, the faint smell of something cooking. It was so different from the life you had known with him centuries ago, yet the sense of care and love was the same.

“Make yourself at home,” Marcus said, gesturing to the living room. “I’ll get dinner started. David, why don’t you help me set the table?”

David nodded and followed his father into the kitchen, but not before giving you one more curious glance. You settled onto the couch, feeling out of place and yet strangely at ease. This was Marcus’s life now, a life you had never been a part of, but somehow it still felt like home.

As they busied themselves in the kitchen, you couldn’t help but think about the enormity of what was happening. You were here, in his home, sharing a moment that felt so normal and yet carried the weight of centuries. It was a bittersweet reminder of everything you had lost and everything you still longed for.

After a few minutes, Marcus emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. “Dinner’s almost ready,” he said, his voice soft. “Thanks for… well, for coming. I know it’s kind of last minute.”

You shook your head, offering him a small smile. “It’s fine. I’m happy to be here.”

He sat down across from you, leaning forward slightly, his expression thoughtful. “I meant what I said earlier. There’s something about you… something I can’t explain.” His voice was quieter now, as though he was sharing a secret. “It’s like I’ve known you forever, but I don’t know how or why.”

Your heart ached at his words, the familiar pain of your curse tugging at you. He was so close, yet so far from remembering the life you had shared. But in this moment, it was enough just to be here, to feel his presence again.

Dinner passed in a warm haze, filled with laughter and the comforting sounds of family. You enjoyed every bite, trying to savor the moment as Marcus shared stories about David's antics at school, his love for art, and the curious questions he had been asking lately. You felt a genuine connection growing, like the threads of your past weaving together with the present.

Once dinner was finished, David excused himself, yawning as he dragged his feet toward the living room. "I'm too tired to finish my project," he declared, and Marcus smiled, understanding that he was ready for bed.

“Okay, buddy, let’s get you settled,” Marcus said, ruffling his son’s hair as David headed up the stairs. After a few moments, you heard the soft sound of David’s door closing, followed by the gentle hum of a lullaby drifting down the hall.

With David tucked in, Marcus returned to the living room, a comfortable silence settling between you. He sank into the armchair across from you, and you both took a moment to collect your thoughts.

“Thanks for tonight,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours. “I didn’t expect to enjoy it so much.”

“I’m glad you did,” you replied, feeling your heart race under his gaze. “I had a great time.”

Marcus leaned back in his chair, a contemplative look crossing his face. “David has been talking about your lessons a lot lately. He’s become really obsessed with the Roman Empire.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. “Really? That’s amazing to hear! What does he say?”

“Well,” Marcus chuckled softly, “he keeps mentioning this General Acacius as his hero. Apparently, he thinks it’s so cool that he’s a general and a fighter at the same time. I think he thinks he’s going to become a gladiator or something,” he said, rolling his eyes playfully.

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of the name. “Marcus Acacius? He’s a fascinating figure in history. He had a complex life—fighting for honor and trying to navigate the politics of his time.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “You really know your stuff, don’t you? It sounds like you’ve done quite a bit of research for your lessons.”

“I’ve always been passionate about history,” you admitted, feeling a warmth spread in your chest as you talked about your favorite subject. “Especially the stories of strong figures like him. I believe there’s so much we can learn from the past.”

“Do you think David sees himself in Acacius?” Marcus asked, leaning forward slightly, genuinely interested in your opinion.

“Perhaps,” you replied thoughtfully. “Or maybe he sees a bit of him in you” you said.

Marcus raised an eyebrow, surprise etched across his face. “In me?”

“Absolutely,” you continued, feeling the words flow more easily now. “You’re a dedicated father, and you fight for what’s best for your son, just like Acacius fought for his people. The way you support David, always encouraging his interests and nurturing his passions—that's heroic in its own right.”

He chuckled softly, a hint of embarrassment creeping into his features. “I’ve never thought of it that way. I just try to do my best for him.”

“Exactly,” you said, leaning in a little closer. “Being a hero isn’t just about great battles or glory; it’s also about the everyday moments—the sacrifices we make for the ones we love. That’s what really matters.”

Marcus’s gaze softened as he listened, and you could see him processing your words. “I guess I can see that. I want David to grow up feeling strong and capable, like he can achieve anything he sets his mind to.”

“And you’re doing just that,” you replied, your heart swelling with admiration for him. “He looks up to you, Marcus. Your presence in his life is already making a huge difference.”

The weight of his vulnerability hung in the air, and for a moment, it felt as if the world outside faded away. “You know, I never realized how much I needed this conversation until now,” he said, a genuine smile gracing his lips. “It’s refreshing to talk to someone who understands what it means to teach and inspire.”

“I’m glad,” you replied, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest.

Marcus nodded; his expression thoughtful. “Speaking of which, I actually bought a book for David the other day. It’s about Marcus Acacius—the general. I thought he might enjoy reading about a real-life hero.”

Your heart raced at the mention of the name, the connection striking a chord deep within you. “Really? I’d love to see it,” you said, your curiosity piqued.

With a spark of excitement, Marcus stood and walked toward a nearby bookshelf, scanning the titles. He pulled out a well-worn book, its cover faded but the spine intact. As he handed it to you, he said, “I thought it would be a great way to inspire him. The stories of bravery and leadership are so important, especially now.”

You opened the book and began flipping through the pages, the illustrations of ancient battles and heroic deeds instantly drawing you in. “This is wonderful, Marcus,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “David will love this.”

“I hope so,” he replied, his gaze fixed on you, watching your reaction with a mix of anticipation and pride.

As you admired the illustrations, Marcus leaned closer to look at the page you were on, his shoulder brushing against yours. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, and for a brief moment, it felt like you were back in another life, lost in a world where everything was simpler.

“This page really captures the spirit of what it means to be a hero,” you began, your voice soft yet earnest. “You know, once upon a time, a hero like Marcus Acacius fought not just for glory but for the love of those he held dear. It reminds me of the bond they shared—how love can be as powerful as any sword or shield.”

Your words hung in the air, the weight of history resonating in the silence between you. You continued, feeling emboldened by the moment. “In many ways, that love is what drove him, just as it drove someone else in a different time—someone who used to call her, mi dulce Cara’”

You glanced over at Marcus, watching as his expression shifted from curiosity to surprise. His eyes widened slightly, and he turned to face you fully. “What? How do you know that?”

The question echoed in the quiet room, and your heart raced at the realization of what you had just revealed. It was a nickname that only he had used, a term of endearment from a time long past, one that had been buried under centuries of memories and pain.

“I—” you hesitated, your mind racing as you tried to find the right words. “I guess I’ve always felt a connection to that name. It… it just came to me.”

Marcus studied you intensely, searching your eyes for answers. “But that have never been mentioned that to anyone. How could you know?”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you realized how the truth was slipping through your fingers, how deeply you yearned for him to remember. “Sometimes, memories linger in the air, even when we think they’re lost,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “It’s like a whisper from the past.”

He looked at you, a mixture of confusion and intrigue swirling in his gaze. “A whisper?”

“Something like that,” you replied softly, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you. “Maybe it’s just… a feeling, or a part of a dream I once had. I can’t explain it, Marcus.”

The two of you sat there in silence, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering emotions. You could sense the gravity of the moment, the delicate thread that connected your past with the present, and you couldn’t help but hope that perhaps, just perhaps, this was the beginning of something that could bridge the gap between who you had been and who you were now.

Marcus leaned closer, his gaze intense and searching. “Dulce cara mia,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I spent years looking out for you.”

Your heart skipped a beat as the familiar phrase hung in the air, a sweet reminder of the bond you once shared. It felt as if the walls between your past and present were beginning to crumble, allowing the sunlight of long-buried emotions to seep through.

“Wait… you remember that?” you asked, your voice barely a breath.

His words were a balm to your soul, igniting a flame of hope that you had thought long extinguished. “How could I forget about you, my love?” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I've lived a thousand lives trying to find you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the weight of his confession settled over you like a comforting blanket. “You really mean that?” you asked, unable to hide the tremor in your voice.

“Every word,” he replied, his thumb gently brushing against your knuckles. “Even in this life, it felt as if something was missing. A part of me always knew you were out there, waiting for me.”

You felt a rush of warmth at his admission, the love that had been lost in the ages flooding back to you. “I thought I would never find you again,” you whispered, your heart aching with the bittersweet pain of your shared history. “I thought the curse would keep us apart forever.”

Marcus shook his head, his expression fierce. “No curse can hold us back. It may take a thousand lifetimes, but we always find each other. Always.”

His gaze bore into yours, filled with a fierce intensity that made your heart race. The air around you felt charged with emotion, and you could feel the weight of the moment pressing down like the world had paused just for you two.

“Every word,” he reiterated softly, nodding as he leaned in closer. The distance between you evaporated, and your breath caught in your throat as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips lingering against your skin. “I’ve missed you, cara,” he murmured, using that endearing name that sent shivers down your spine.

As he inched closer, the warmth radiating from him enveloped you like a comforting embrace. “I’ve spent so long searching for you,” he whispered, his lips hovering just inches from yours. “And now that I’ve found you again… I never want to let you go.”

Your heart swelled with emotion, and the tension in the air seemed to pulse with life. It felt as though everything around you faded into the background—the world, the past, the curse—all that mattered was this moment, this connection.

“Marcus,” you breathed, your voice barely audible as you leaned in, craving the touch of his lips against yours.

But then, just before your lips met, he pulled back slightly, searching your eyes with a mixture of longing and caution. “I won’t rush this. I want to savor every moment we have, to make it count.”

You nodded, your heart pounding as you took a deep breath, grounding yourself in the reality of this second chance. “I want that too,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

++++++

You were standing in the dimly lit corridors of the palace; the cold stone walls a stark contrast to the warmth you felt whenever Marcus was nearby. The sounds of soldiers and servants echoed faintly in the distance, but here, in this hidden alcove, the world felt small and intimate. Marcus had pulled you into the shadows, his hand firm but gentle on your arm, his eyes filled with the same intensity they held now.

“We must be careful,” you had whispered, your breath catching as he leaned in close, the smell of leather and sandalwood surrounding you. “If anyone sees us…”

But Marcus had silenced your worries with a soft kiss, his lips pressing against yours in a way that made your heart skip. “I would fight the whole empire if it meant being with you.” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous.

His words had sent a thrill through you, but you both knew the risks. You were not just any woman; you were the emperor’s sister, and Marcus was the empire’s fiercest general. Your love, while passionate and real, was forbidden—an act of treason in the eyes of those who held power over you.

Yet, none of that mattered when you were in his arms.

“I can’t stay away from you,” Marcus had whispered against your skin, his lips brushing the curve of your neck as he held you close. “Every moment I’m not with you feels like torture.”

You had smiled then, your hands tangling in his dark curls, pulling him closer, as if you could keep him with you forever. “We will find a way,” you had promised, though neither of you knew how. “We’ll be together, one day.”

For now, stolen kisses and secret embraces were all you had, and in those moments, it felt like enough. The weight of your circumstances melted away, leaving only the raw, unshakable truth of your love.

As Marcus kissed you again, more urgently this time, the world outside your alcove seemed to disappear. His hands traced the familiar lines of your body, and you clung to him, desperate to make the moment last, knowing it would be hours—maybe days—before you could find each other again.

“I love you,” he had breathed into your ear, his voice filled with the kind of vulnerability only you ever saw. “In this life and every life to come, Cara Mia.”

++++++

As the memory faded, you were pulled back into the present, Marcus still inches away, his intense gaze fixed on you. The warmth of that ancient kiss lingered between you, and the weight of the moment felt just as powerful now as it had back then.

His hand, still gently resting on your cheek, was real, solid, warm, and the centuries that had separated you seemed to dissolve in the space between your shared breath. The flicker of recognition deepened in his eyes, and you saw it, the understanding, the knowing.

“Cara,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve been searching for you in every life. And now, here you are, right in front of me.”

You could hardly breathe, the intensity of his presence overwhelming. “Marcus,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “All this time… it’s been you. I knew it, I felt it.”

He nodded, his thumb brushing away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. “I never forgot. Even when the memories were blurry, even when I didn’t understand… something inside me always knew.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I met many women during my life, but it was always you. I was always looking for you.”

the years of searching, of waiting, finally melting away. You could feel his love, not just from this life, but from the countless lifetimes before. He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours, his breath mingling with your own.

“I won’t lose you again,” he whispered, his voice filled with the determination of a man who had lived a thousand lives in search of one thing, one person.

You closed your eyes, a rush of emotion flooding through you, knowing that, this time, neither of you would have to live without the other.

the reality of your curse loomed at the back of your mind, like a shadow waiting to resurface. You opened your eyes slowly, pulling back just enough to look into Marcus’s eyes. The intensity was still there, but now, mixed with something else—worry, doubt.

“But what about the curse?” you asked softly, your voice trembling with the weight of the question. “We’ve found each other again, but… what if it’s not enough? What if we’re torn apart, just like all the other times?”

“I Will break it” he said, sealing a promise.

Marcus’s words hung in the air, a declaration so filled with determination that it made your heart ache with both hope and fear. His hand tightened around yours, grounding you in the moment as he repeated, “I will break it.”

You stared at him, searching his eyes for any hint of uncertainty, but all you saw was a fierce resolve—a promise he intended to keep, no matter the cost. The weight of his vow pressed down on you, the enormity of the task, the centuries of separation, all coming to the forefront of your mind. “How?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “How can you break something that has kept us apart for so long?”

“I don’t know,” Marcus admitted, his voice unwavering. “But I do know that I’m not the same man I was before. None of those lifetimes matter without you by my side, and I will tear down the heavens if I have to, to keep you with me.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the intensity of his love for you overwhelming. You could feel the fear still lurking beneath the surface, the fear that no matter how much you wanted this, how hard you fought, the curse would come between you once again. But something in the way Marcus looked at you, the absolute certainty in his gaze, made you want to believe him.

“And if we fail?” you asked, your voice barely more than a breath, the question slipping out despite yourself. “What if we can’t break it?”

Marcus shook his head, gently cupping your face in his hands. “We won’t fail,” he said softly, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Because this time, I’m not letting you go. I’m not letting anything stand between us. I’ll break the curse or die trying.”

Tears welled in your eyes as his words sank in, the promise of his love wrapping around you like a shield. For the first time in centuries, you allowed yourself to hope. Maybe, just maybe, this time could be different.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips, breaking the heavy tension that had settled between you. “People will talk again,” you said, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “That hasn’t changed.”

Marcus’s eyes lit up, a playful glint dancing behind the intensity of his gaze. “Let them talk,” he said with a shrug, his voice full of warmth and mischief. “They’ve been talking about us for centuries. Let them have something real to talk about this time.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound breaking through the lingering shadows of fear and doubt. It was a familiar feeling, this lightness that always seemed to come when you were with him, no matter how dire the circumstances. In a world that constantly threatened to tear you apart, these moments of shared joy felt like a rebellion, a testament to the strength of your bond.

“They’re going to say I’ve bewitched you,” you teased, leaning in a little closer, savoring the warmth of his presence. “Or that you’ve gone mad.”

Marcus grinned, his thumb still gently caressing your cheek. “Maybe I have,” he said, his voice low and full of affection. “Mad with love for you.”

You rested your forehead against his once more, your breath mingling with his as you whispered, “Let them talk, then. As long as we have this, as long as we have each other, none of it matters.”

Marcus’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. “Forever,” he whispered back, sealing the promise between you with a tender kiss.

You kissed him as though every single one of the lifetimes you had lived without him was pouring into this one moment. The touch of his lips against yours ignited something deep within you—a longing, a love, that had spanned centuries. All the heartache, all the searching, all the endless years of waiting melted away as you gave yourself fully to the kiss.

Marcus held you like he had done a thousand times before, but this time, it was different. This time, the kiss was filled with the knowledge that you had found each other again, that no matter what came next, you were together now. His hands traced the curve of your back, pulling you closer as if he were afraid you might disappear again.

You could feel the weight of all those years, all the love that had been lost and found again, in every movement, in every breath. His kiss was not just a promise but a reminder—a reminder of all the times he had loved you, all the moments you had shared in different lives, and all the moments you had missed. And now, here, you were living them all again.

When you finally pulled back, your breath coming in shallow gasps, you stared into his eyes, searching for the same fire you knew was burning inside you. It was there—strong, unwavering, eternal. “I’ve waited lifetimes for you,” you whispered, your forehead resting against his. “And I’d wait a thousand more if it meant I could be with you like this.”

Marcus’s gaze softened, and his fingers brushed tenderly against your jawline. “You won’t have to wait anymore,” he said, his voice steady and filled with love.

After the kiss, you found yourself in front of a mirror, your fingers lightly brushing over your lips, still tingling from the touch of his. The room was quiet now, the world beyond the two of you seemed distant, as though the very air had stilled to give you space for this moment. As you gazed at your reflection, a glimmer caught your eye.

There, among the strands of your hair, was a single grey hair. You reached up, gently twisting it between your fingers, a realization dawning on you with a surge of emotion. The curse. All those lifetimes, the endless cycle of living and dying, never aging, never truly being free… It was broken.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you had changed. The grey hair was proof—proof that time, real time, had touched you. Proof that you were no longer trapped in the endless loop of waiting, searching, and losing Marcus again and again.

Your heart swelled with emotion as you stared at the grey hair, a smile tugging at your lips. It wasn’t a sign of loss or fear, but of life—of the future you could now build together. The weight of your immortality, the curse that had kept you apart, had lifted.

Marcus’s reflection appeared behind you in the mirror, his eyes soft but filled with a quiet intensity. He gently placed his hands on your shoulders, his warmth grounding you in this new reality. “You see it too, don’t you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, unable to stop the tears from welling up. “It’s broken, Marcus. We’re free.”

His arms slid around you, pulling you close to his chest. You could feel the steady beat of his heart, the sound of it a reminder that you were no longer bound by the past. “I told you,” he whispered against your hair. “No curse can keep us apart.”

[xosannie]

Hi! I’m new but I’ve been reading your works recently and HOLY they are very good! I especially love when you write subby ateez so I was wondering if I could request some sub seonghwa or wooyoung (or both if you feel inspired hehe) ideally with some mommy reader thrown in there? <33

Better Make This Quick

a/n:Your wish is my command 🫡 I think it’s about time I write about Wooyoung my beloved. (Sorry this took so long.)

Genre: smut 18+ MDNI

Pairing: sub!wooyoung x dom!reader (f)

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: pwp, established relationship, mommy dom reader, quickie, choking, begging, finger sucking, praising, degrading, unprotected sex (be safe y’all), cumming inside (lmk if I missed anything) if you see typos no you don’t

Summary: Rewarding Wooyoung for his hard work. Hopefully you can do it in time without getting caught. (Coach Wooyoung feat. boxer San)

—————————————————————————

“Another win in the bag,” Wooyoung grins.

He drops the duffle bag of money on the ground. You smirk at him, pulling him in for a hug. San stood beside you two. He was dirty and a little bloody. 

“My god San. I think you need to shower.” 

San giggled, pushing his sweaty hair back and out of his eyes. 

“Yeah I think I will.”

Wooyoung pats San on the back. They just came back from another boxing match, and of course San wins yet another one. You were waiting at their shared apartment since you were too busy with work to attend the match. But when you go out you promised Wooyoung you’d wait for him at his home. 

After nudging San’s shoulder playfully, he excuses himself and leaves to the restroom. It was just you and Wooyoung now. Wooyoung walks over to the couch and plops down on the cushion. He let out a long sigh, resting his head back. He pulls his sunglasses off his head to run his fingers through his dark locks. You smile endearingly at Wooyoung, walking over to straddle his lap.

“Aw baby you look exhausted. I know how stressful this match was for you two.”

“Yeah, we knew this opponent was gonna be difficult. We had to put all our focus on this match, it was draining for both of us.”

“Well you did it. Besides, San couldn’t do it without you.”

Wooyoung smiles at your words, his hands comes to rest on your waist. Poor baby, he looked so tired. You eyes examine him sitting back on the couch. His hair was slicked back in such a sexy way, and the way his shirt was unbuttoned just enough to see the skin of his tan chest. He looked intoxicating. 

You trace your finger up his bare chest, coming up to the thick chain around his neck. You hooked your finger on the chain and pull him in. He gasped slightly at your sudden, forceful action. But his shocked face was immediately changed into a sly smirk.

“Poor baby was so stressed. Maybe he needs a reward for doing a good job.”

You voice dropped in a lower tone. The sound of your voice makes him excited, he knew where this was going. He glanced at your lips, nodding wordlessly at your remark. He wrapped him arms around your waist, pulling you closer on his lap. 

“I do need a reward.”

“What’s the magic word?”

You cup his jaw, pulling him in closer. He grinned at the way you were being a bit aggressive and he began to grip onto your shirt. Already feeling a sense of need whenever you spoke to him in that dominant tone.

“Please mommy.”

Your eyes darkened at his words, and large grin spread on your face. You feel a shock of desire course through you and land in between your legs. Fuck you needed Wooyoung right now.

Your hand snakes down and wraps around his neck, you push him back against the couch and lean in. He gasped at your actions and already felt a stir in his pants. He loved when you were aggressive, when you treated him like a toy for your own amusement. He needed that right now, needed to be your plaything. 

His hands reached up to grasp your wrist and his eyes fill with desire. He felt a shiver run down his spine when you shifted your head to nibble at his earlobe.

“Better make this quick then. We don’t want San to walk in on us do we?”

Wooyoung whimpered at your words. The thought of getting caught making his body fuel with need. He shook his head no and you giggle when you take note of his shallow breathing.

You didn’t fail to notice his bulge growing underneath you. It was hard to ignore it when it pressed against your thigh, so cute how easily he got needy for you. You began to apply pressure on the sides of his throat while whispering seductively in his ear. 

“Better keep quiet too baby. Unless you want San to hear how much of a pathetic boy you are for mommy.”

Wooyoung gasped when your grip tightened around his neck, his head clouded With submission and his dick twitched in his pants. He lets out a moan, you words sending shocks straight to his cock. He shook his head no with a small pout on his lips. 

“I’ll be good mommy I swear. I can be quiet.”

You chuckle and release your grip on Wooyoung’s neck. Your hand snakes down between your bodies and unbuckles the belt around his waist. Wooyoung was already panting, he looked down and tried to help you with his pants but his hands were trembling too much. You coo at the sight and gently push his hands away. You managed to get his pants unbuttoned and pull his already hard dick out. 

It was so beautiful, the tip leaking while it pulsed in your hand. Pretty veins running down the sides, oh how badly you wanted to run your tongue along it. Gotta save that for another time though. Right now you were in a time crunch, and you had to be quick if you wanted to finish before San got out the shower.

“Such a pretty cock. All hard and ready for me.”

Wooyoung whimpers softly at your words, he gripped at your hips and tugged at the waistband of your shorts. 

“Please mommy I need you.”

You chuckle, leaning in to kiss his lips. Wooyoung was quick to kiss back, reaching up to cup your cheek. How could you say no to that.

“Don’t worry my beloved, I’ll give you what you need. You deserve it after all.”

You start to pull off your shorts taking one leg out the leg hole and letting you shorts dangle around your ankle. You grasp the base of his cock and gesture down toward it with your head. 

“Spit on it,” you commanded. 

Without hesitation, Wooyoung did as he told. He spit onto his cock and you smile at him, leaning down closer and spitting on it as well. That was so hot to Wooyoung. You began to stroke his dick, lathering your combined spit on him as lubricant. 

You adjust so you can hover over him and sank down on his cock. Wooyoung’s mouth flew open but you covered his mouth with your palm before any sounds could escape.

“Remember… stay quiet,” you say breathlessly.

You were also trying to remind yourself. Wooyoung filled you up just perfectly, you never got over the feeling of him sliding inside for the first time. You began to rock your hips up and down, Wooyoung gripped onto your hips helping you bounce on his cock. His brows furrowed as he struggles to keep his moans in. 

Wooyoung nodded at your words, you move your palm to prod your fingers against his lips. Wooyoung knew what you wanted, and he was happy to oblige. His lips parted then wrapped around your digits. He began to messily suck on them, bobbing his head slightly as drool rand down your fingers and palm. 

You groan quietly at the sight, your other hand resting on his shoulder for support. All of this was so exciting, you both could still hear the faint sound of the shower streaming down and hitting the bath floor. You knew you had to be quick, and the thought alone made you both more turned on then ever. 

“Yes good boy. You feel so good inside me.”

Wooyoung whimpers around your fingers and you pulled them out. His eyes were pooling with desperation and submission. He pulls your closer so he could kiss your lips. 

“Thank you mommy…mmm fuck me so good.”

The words coming out of his mouth only turned you on even more. You felt him tugging and clawing at your shirt, typically that meant he wanted you closer. He wanted to feel your bodies pressed together, so that’s what you did. You leaned in closer so your  chest pressed flush against each other and Wooyoung wrapped his arms around your torso. He hid his face in the crook of your neck and you cradled the back of his head.

You bite your lip trying to hold back your own moans. You hear Wooyoung quietly whimper in your ear and it makes your heart (and pussy) throb. You guys were pressed so close together that your clit rubbed against his pelvis every time you grind down on his dick. 

“Fuck… so good…” Wooyoung whimpered.

You raked your fingers in his hair on the back of his head and tugged at the strands. You pulled his head back making his gasp harshly. You watch his expression intently, loving the way his mouth flew agape as silent moans got stuck in his throat.

“Yeah? You like when mommy fucks you like this?” 

Wooyoung had to bring his own hand up to his mouth to muffle the moan that threatened to escape. He nodded eagerly and he started to subconsciously buck up into you which only caused more pleasure for you two. You felt Wooyoung throb inside you and by the way his eyes rolled in the back of his head you knew he was close. 

“Keep… fucking me please… please mommy.”

Your head perked when you heard the sounds of the water hitting the shower floor cease. Shit, San was done showering. You bounced faster on Wooyoung’s dick, and the thought of San walking in on you two like this brought you close to release.

“Cum for me Wooyoung….fuck before San sees us.”

Wooyoung whimpered, he leaned forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder and he held onto tightly to you. His hands reached down to grab a fist full of your ass and he guided you on his cock. 

“I’m cumming,” he whispered in your ear. 

And with that you both came together, you bit onto Wooyoung’s shoulder to silence your moans when you felt him fill you up with cum. Wooyoung grunted, letting out choked moans when you tightened around his cock. You continued to roll your hips, the sounds of Wooyoung sliding in and out of you was music to your ears.

Once you both calmed down from your highs you wasted no time to hop off Wooyoung’s cock and pull your shorts back on. Wooyoung adjusted his clothes, buckling his belt and he leaned back against the couch. He threw an arm over your shoulder, trying to remain as casual as possible.

You both heard the bathroom door open and light footsteps made their way down the hall. You grabbed a nearby blanket and leaned against Wooyoung’s body to appear as though you were both innocently cuddling the whole time. 

San walked in the living room, a towel draped around his waist and his hands on his hips. He had a soft smile on his face as he looked at both you and Wooyoung. 

“I say we get food to celebrate my win,” he chimes softly. 

You and Wooyoung both turn to San and smile back. You tried to ignore the feeling of Wooyoung’s cum oozing out your hole and onto your shorts. But you subconsciously shut your thighs tightly together, scared that the cum would drip down your leg. You felt Wooyoung’s shoulders bounce as he chuckled at San. 

“Okay we’ll get food. Just go get dressed, what did I say about walking around is just a towel?”

You giggled softly when you felt Wooyoung’s hand cover your eyes, obstructing your vision. San laughs as well walking out the living room and to his own bedroom. 

“Okay okay I’m going!” He exclaims back. 

Once you both heard his bedroom door close you were quick to hop back on Wooyoung’s lap. You smash your lips on his causing him to let out a surprised sound. Wooyoung chuckled in the kiss and wrapped his arms around you. 

“You’re dangerous…gonna get me in trouble one day,” he muttered against your lips. 

“Come on you liked it… you came so fast.”

Wooyoung smirked, well he couldn’t argue with that. You both kissed for a moment before you pulled away to stare at Wooyoung. He cupped your cheek, keeping you close and pressing a soft kiss on your nose. 

“Thank you baby, for everything.”

“You don’t need to thank me Woo.”

 He smiled at you, caressing your cheek with his thumb. 

“Yes I do, you take care of me so well.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and placed another quick, soft kiss on his lips.

“You’re my baby. It’s my job to take care of you.”

You wanted to stay like this, admiring each other while while staying in Wooyoung’s arms. But the wholesome moment was ruined when you felt the fabric of your shorts stick to your folds with Wooyoung’s cum. You glanced down then back up at Wooyoung. 

“Sorry to ruin the moment but I have cum dripping out my pussy. I need to shower.”

Wooyoung let out a hearty laugh, pulling you in closer and kissing your cheek. The smirk on his face never faded when he looked down your body. 

“You know if I could I would be licking all my cum off your pretty cunt.”

You scoff at his words, trying to ignore the way you core throbbed with arousal at the thought. You lightly smacked Wooyoung on the chest and pulled yourself off his lap.

“Aye, keep your dirty word’s to yourself.”

Wooyoung held onto you hips while you stood up, not wanting to let go of you just yet. He looked up at you with desire filled eyes and you could tell he was still horny.

“Why? Do they turn you on?”

You roll your eyes at Wooyoung and look down at him with a warning glance. You ran your fingers through his hair, pushing it back while you leaned in to kiss his forehead.

“I would never tell. Now let go of me so I can shower.”

Wooyoung pouts softly then reluctantly lets his hands fall to his lap. You found his pouty face incredibly cute and cupped his jaw to kiss his lips. His pout immediately changed to a smile when he felt your soft kiss. 

“If you behave we can go for a round two when we’re alone.”

Wooyoung’s head perks up like a puppy wanting a treat and he nodded eagerly.

“Okay! I’ll behave.”

You smile at Wooyoung, ruffling his hair before walking off. Wooyoung watched you the whole time, a sly smirk on his face while you disappeared in the hall. 

Right when you walk into the bathroom San walks out his room. He walked to the living room now fully dressed, unaware of everything that happened while he was gone.

“We’re still getting food right?”

~

[anyydidi]

WRITING THIS POST BECAUSE I'M SO SICK OF PEOPLE MISCHARACTERIZING FORD!!!!!!!!!

Before we begin, everyone is entitled to their opinion. If you really think Ford wouldn't truly care, you do you.

That being said, I feel like people who claim that Ford wouldn't do a single thing to bring Stan back if their places were switched do not understand his character at all.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think that he would open the portal. At least not right away. The one thing I agree with is that Ford wouldn't put the life of his brother above the whole planet like Stan did. He realizes the threat of the portal and Bill too much to do that.

But have people forgotten that Ford also loves his brother? Yeah, he was angry, bitter and resentful, but he wouldn't have just let Stan die in the multiverse. Especially since that would be entirely his fault he got stuck there in the first place.

For people thinking, "But Ford was too blinded by rage! He didn't care for Stan until after Weirdmaggedon!", have you seen the show? Have you read the journal? Through everything that happened, Ford kept a photo (tattered and worn, obviously taken out a lot) of him and his brother in his left, inner breast pocket which is the one closest to the heart. If that wasn't enough, for those who haven't read the journal, Ford kept reminiscing about and mentioning his brother before the portal incident. Even though those lines were often crossed out, it was obvious that at least unconsiously he had Stan in mind a lot. And at the end of the journal, it is written that he worked day and night, to the point of passing out, to bring Stan's memories (and essencially Stan himself) back. (Oh and have we forgotten about the absolutely shattered expression he had when he erased Stan's memories? You don't look like that for a person you don't deeply care about).

Still not enough to believe that Ford cared about Stan before Stan's sacrifice?

Let's talk about the fact that when Ford was at his lowest, that being paranoid, sleep deprived, tortured by Bill, drowned in guilt, and completely alone, he reached out to Stan? He says it himself, "I needed help, someone I could trust." After everything, he still trusted Stan to an extent and believed him to be his last hope. You don't give trust like that to people you truly hate.

Ford was self-absorbed and egocentric, but also hurt and betrayed. That feeling came from a misconception, but that doesn't make it any less valid. It is understandable that he acted towards Stan the way he did, with venom and bitterness. But we can be angry at people we love and still care for their well-being.

How I said earlier, I don't think Ford would really open the portal. He wouldn't risk the entire world for Stanley. But I do think he would do anything in his power to be able to bring Stan back safely. You cannot be telling me that he'd be able to live with the guilt and not do anything about it if he could. After all, in his head, it would be his fault. He got tricked by Bill, he built the portal, he made Stan come to him and showed him the portal and he wasn't able to let go of the journal and fought Stan for it. I'm convinced he'd still throw some blame at Stan for some of the fight to make himself feel better at first, but after some time he would just blame himself completely (the same way I think Stan did with the science fair incident). The guilt for all of that would eat him alive.

Let's not forget, Stanley worked for 30 years, basically half his life to bring Stanford home and I believe Ford would be willing to do the same. He would just go about it differently. He would either try to get rid of the threat of Bill and then be willing to upgrade the portal and turn it on again, or maybe try to find a completely different way to get Stan back from the multiverse, or in the end something entirely different, I'm not fully sure.

What I am sure of is that Ford wouldn't just let Stan be stranded in the multiverse without doing absolutely nothing. Maybe he wouldn't succeed, maybe Stan would actually have to find his own way back home because Stanford wouldn't be able to find a solution without risking their entire universe. But Ford would at least try, give it his all, because despite everything, he still loves his brother. Differently than Stan loves him, because Ford is a different person than Stan, but he still does.

So I beg you, people. Stop taking Ford's complex character from him. He can be a selfish, self-centered asshole, but he's not heartless.

[lusmeitli]

But like of each thing that in season grows

Summary: How a kind gesture can lead to something more. One shot.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Christmas fluff, mention of off screen assault, some swearing, lots of snow, books, poetry, smutty smut.

A/N: Okay, look. It just wanted to get out. You’re thrown in without a warning, nor a floatie. Apologies for the liberties taken to interpret and manipulate characters to dance after my will once more. Obviously don't read if you're a minor.

9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9

The greatest ideas were conceived in the shower. That was a scientific fact.

You liked facts. You did not like uncertainties or speculation. The feeling of being in limbo was something that didn’t sit right with you.

So as you were in the shower, working the conditioner in your hair, the idea was just there. It was simple, humble, but beautiful. Your hands slowed and stilled. And then your mind rebooted and went at lightning speed, planning things out. You needed to write things down.

You stepped out of the shower hurriedly, towelling down your body, before realising that your hair felt different. Cursing, you stepped back under the water to rinse off the conditioner.

*****

You hated staff meetings. Particularly third Thursdays staff meetings, because they dragged on and on. The weekly mission reports were presented and Fury insisted on inviting some guest speakers. He called it “Horizon Thursday”.

In your opinion it narrowed rather than widened it. Today’s guest speaker was Quinn Harris, cyber security specialist. You suspected self-proclaimed, but you hadn’t bothered doing a deep dive on him.

You were sat on the increasingly uncomfortable chair, rows of employees in front of you, the Avengers at the very front. Rogers had delivered his usual military style mission report, the other members of his team trying to look alive, though you suspected Romanoff and Banner were asleep, as they were both donning sunglasses.

“What you need is a quantum computer and it’ll solve all your problems with encryption.”

“They might as well propose using block ciphers,” you murmured under your breath, turning the page in your book.

Meanwhile, a hand shot in the air at the front. “Excuse me, Mr Harris.”

The man smiled. “Mr Stark, do you have a question?”

“Well, not so much a question for you, but I would very much like the opinion of another expert on what you just said. You know, before anyone here thinks about investing in your product, which, let’s be honest, would be me. I’d like to be sure it’s the right thing.”

Fury rolled his eyes and sunk back in his chair.

There had been talk about getting that dude in? You must have zoned out for that part.

Harris’ face fell for a second, but he honed his features and forced a smile. “Of course.”

“It just so happens that we have an inhouse expert,” Tony got up and scanned the crowd. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

Everyone uniformly turned to look at you. Everyone.

You felt the moment one particular pair of eyes set on you. The amount of times you had spoken to one another had been limited to the missions you were needed on, for hacking. You’d had his voice in your ear a few times and it did things to your body that made you feel like a system overheat. You never really saw him during missions though as your job was very much office-bound.

Today, he wore the damn leather suit. Whilst Fury didn’t give a fuck, Rogers very much was all about the professional appearance of the Avengers. What you didn’t understand was why everything looked better on him. The black and green possibly was the best colour combination there ever was. The other day Bucky had worn a Slytherin pullover and even though it very nicely accentuated his physique, it looked nothing like the colours did on Loki.

You swallowed hard when you felt his eyes on you. They seemed to see right through you, even over the distance of the seven rows of chairs.

And then you felt the weight of all the other pairs of eyes on you. That was a lot of people. You gulped and pushed your glasses back up the bridge of your nose - a habit you couldn’t break. 

“Y/N,” Tony called, bringing you back to the matter at hand. “Stand up and look at me.” His voice was gentle. “Start breathing again. Good. Now tell me what Harris is not telling me about the quantum computer.”

You adjusted your glasses again and cleared your throat. “It’s a solid proposition, I suppose,” you started, “however, one I would expect from a college freshman, certainly not from a cyber security expert specialist.”

Murmurs erupted, but you ignored them and rattled off your thoughts.

“Can a quantum computer crack asymmetric encryption algorithms? Yes. And yes, we all know that thanks to Shor’s algo the maths problems are only polynomial. Also, we know this applies to discrete log problems, too, therefore, all we’d need is a large enough quantum computer. Of course, he,” you gestured to Harris, “would have to build one first, which as you can guess is very costly. However, this entire presentation is based on the assumption that quantum computing is the end of asymmetric cryptography. And that is such a blatantly ignorant approach, with complete disregard for the safety of the members of our staff that are entirely reliant on the encryption cracking working on all their devices during operations and missions. And this whole quantum computer only works if you have a network connection.”

“So you’re suggesting there are hard problems that a quantum computer can’t solve?” Harris said, chin jutting out, arms crossed defiantly.

“Don’t be silly, of course there are,” you huffed. “I coded new post-quantum asymmetric encryption algos three years ago and tested them on several sites I am not authorised to disclose that have quantum computers. Not one of them cracked the simplest of those codes, in any of the over 5,400 attempts they ran over the past three years. So this presentation is… rather embarrassing in its sloppiness.”

“Well,” Harris’ lips were a thin line now. “I’m sure you have a ‘much better’ suggestion then?” He actually raised his hands to add the quotation marks.

“Actually, I do. I developed our own version of a quantum computer, at - and I’m only guessing here - a fraction of the price you’d charge Mr Stark, which can crack both symmetric and asymmetric encryption, works on all of our staff’s devices, portable and stationary, works offline and is about the size of, uh, a thumbnail.”

You pointed to your thumb, because in your humble experience men like him struggled to accurately size things.

Tony smiled and turned to Harris.

“Okay that concludes today’s meeting.” Fury got to his feet and patted Harris’ shoulder. “Looks like we’re good, but thanks for coming.”

People around you stood, some nodding at you as they passed. Tony caught up with you in the hallway. Before he could say something you blurted out: “Did I say something wrong? Was I rude again?”

He smirked and pushed the button of the lift. “He needed putting into place. Totally fine by me. You did great.”

“Stark!” bellowed Fury from down the hall and Tony winced.

“Excuse me, mother’s calling.” He turned and left.

You sidled into the lift with several other people. The cabin stopped a few floors up and people got off. That was when you noticed Loki on the other side of the lift. Up you went and after another stop you were alone with the Asgardian god. The cabin seemed to shrink.

You both watched the numbers climb, the lift hummed, Loki’s leather suit creaked softly as he crossed his hands behind his back.

“Could you please enlighten me about Shor’s algorithm?” he suddenly asked, looking at you.

You had a heart palpitation. Surely that was what it was. He was so impossibly tall and sculpted and… here.

“Um,” you pushed your glasses back up, “it’s a quantum algorithm for finding the prime factors of an integer.”

Loki’s face looked blank.

“It, er, essentially it finds the prime factors of large numbers a lot faster than conventional computers do. Which we use in encryption. The large numbers, that is. So it cracks codes faster.”

“Ah,” he said, head turning back to continue staring at the number display. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you croaked out.

The urge to facepalm burned under your fingers, but you resisted. As soon as the doors slid open on your floor, however, you fled and sought asylum in the ladies’ toilets, banging your head against the wall of the stall.

*****

Operation Great Idea was in full swing.

So you’ve had a little personal setback, but that didn’t deter you from the objective. You had compiled a list, one you were confident was accurate based on your intel and research. That very list was neatly folded in the deep pocket of your coat as you walked through the cold rain on this late November afternoon.

Yes, you did something you’d never done before - take an afternoon off - and were trying to evade puddles on your way to the bookshop. Could you have ordered the books online? Most of them, certainly. But your late mother, an independent business owner, had ingrained in you to support local shops. You liked bookshops, they reminded you of her and of simpler times.

Your timing was excellent - of course you had researched when the shop was least busy - and you practically had the shop to yourself. And so you walked, dragging a pull-along basket behind you as you searched the shelves for the books on the list.

Sometimes, there were different editions there and you stood for a while, feeling the weight of each book in your hand, the feel of the embossed letters on the spine, the scent of the pages. You wanted it to be just right, so you took your time.

Some of the books you would only be able to get in a little second hand bookshop, tucked away in a side street. You had called beforehand and the owner lifted a box from under the counter to show you what she had reserved for you. As soon as your fingers made contact with the books you felt absolutely giddy.

Back at the Tower, you spent two entire evenings wrapping books after work. When you were finished, you leaned back, looking at the neatly organised stack. Yes, you were ready. Now all you needed was an exorbitant amount of luck for the next 24 days.

*****

You watched Loki stare suspiciously at the first parcel. He was sitting in the communal kitchen, Thor next to him. 

“Why would it be hexed?” Thor asked. “Simply because the sender is missing?”

Loki just gave him a pointed look.

“Come, brother, aren’t you curious to find out what is in this gift?”

“Loki got a present?” Steve asked as he pulled a bowl out of a cupboard. “Did I miss his birthday?”

Before Loki could say anything, Thor shook his head. “He’s worried it has been tampered with.”

Roger’s brows furrowed. “How did it get into your possession?”

“It was on the floor outside my door this morning,” Loki complied, sighing.

“FRIDAY would have picked up on any foreign substances or intruders in the tower,” Tony said between gulps of coffee. “He now can detect traces of magic, too. ‘Course, he went apeshit over your magic, but we got it under control, eventually.”

“That’s what all this ‘Alert, alert, magic detected, caution advised’ blaring at five in the morning was?” Scott bustled in.

A slight tinge of red shaded Loki’s complexion. “I have to practise some time.”

“Thought you were born with it?” Scott interjected, helpfully.

This earned him a glare. “I was born with the aptitude for magic and sorcery. It takes a lot more than mere talent to achieve this level of proficiency.”

“Several centuries, in fact,” his brother supplied. “Now then Stark here says it’s safe. So open it, brother!” Thor clapped his hands together. 

Loki indignantly and very reluctantly slid the parcel towards him and pulled on the simple string that held the wrapping together. The paper fell open to reveal one of the books you had picked.

From your vantage point of, well, your computer screen, you zoomed in to get a better look at him.

“Oh, a book,” you heard the onlookers muttering disappointedly, quickly losing interest and going about their business once more.

But Loki just sat, staring at the book. It took him a good few minutes to pick it up. And he did what you had seen him do many times before. He weighed it in his hands, fingertips running over the cover, the spine. Then he opened the lid. To anyone else it might not have been noticeable, but to you it was: he inhaled the scent of the book. And finally, there was the smallest upturn of his lips.

You exhaled, relieved. One down 23 more to go.

*****

Over the next week you were too busy testing the new firewall you had developed to check on Loki’s reaction. Sometimes you felt a little self-conscious, scared even that he might not like the books or think this was from a stalker. Which technically you had indulged in, stalking that was, but only to find the perfect books for him. And then sometimes you would get worried that someone else might have found the presents.

But you knew he had received every single one of them, for every evening, when you passed the common area you saw him sitting on the couch with the latest offering in his hands. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but it looked as if his tense shoulders had started to relax a bit.

Another couple of days went by and as the decorations started to pop up in the Tower and the first snow fell that didn’t immediately melt or turn to mush you felt happy. Perhaps it also had something to do with the fact that a certain someone walked differently. Maybe it was your imagination. But he seemed even taller these days.

*****

“Did it work?” you heard his voice in your ear a couple days later.

The data set was streaming on the screen in front of your eyes. “It did. Give me a moment to inject the virus, then you can disconnect the USB cable.”

“Can I still talk to you?”

Your fingers on the keyboard stilled for a moment, surprised. “Of course. The program runs through your phone, not through comms.”

There was a little pause, before he said: “I have a question. About a Midgardian tradition.”

You wrinkled your nose, scanning the code rushing over the screen. “I’ll try my best, but I’m rubbish at traditions.”

The audible outbreath sent shivers down your spine. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“What’s your question then?”

“Tell me about the Yuletide calendar.”

45% done. “You mean the Advent calendar?”

“Precisely.”

This was dangerous territory you were treading on. “Oh, it’s a fun thing for kids, really. To make the wait for Christmas a bit more exciting and I guess more bearable. It’s nice to get a little something like a toy.”

“Is it always toys?”

69% now. “Well, no. My mum used to get me an advent calendar that had these lovely drawings behind each door. I hung it up in the front room and we’d open it together every morning.”

“I suppose it’s a nice custom,” he said, before asking, “What about grown ups, do they have advent calendars?”

83%. “Sometimes. There’s all sorts: beer, wine, beauty products, chocolates - you name it, it probably exists somewhere.”

“Books, too?”

The question threw you, did he know it was you? A light was blinking on your screen.

100%.

“That’s it, Loki, the virus is uploaded, you can unplug the cable now and get out of there.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

You heard a crackle and the comms was handed over to operations again. As you finished running the decryption programme on the data Loki had extracted, you kept hearing his voice in your head.

“Books, too?” Were you busted?

*****

Security breaches were both an insult as well as an admittedly welcome challenge to you. Someone had tried to flex their fingers - and you had a very good idea who - to break into Stark’s network. They had managed to pierce a little hole into the outer layer of the firewall, but they didn’t know that you had several back up plans in place and you enjoyed watching them work. However, as you scanned over the intruder’s code you devised a new security strategy.

You were in the middle of coding a nice little primer for a new layer - unexpected because of its simplicity, but a tough little nut to crack - when someone cleared their throat next to you. You looked up to find Loki, his eyes fixed on you. You blinked, looked around, but no one else was there, and back up at the god.

“Can I, uh, help you?” Smooth. You facepalmed internally.

“I realised I have never been in here,” he said, looking around the room, then back at your desk. “You have a lot of monitors.”

You waved your hand dismissively. “Just the standard three.”

“What are you doing now? Or is it a secret?”

“It’s not a secret at all. So we’re currently under attack. Relax,” she said when she noticed him tense, “cyberattack. Someone’s knocking at our backdoor, trying to see if they can get in.”

You motioned to one of your screens. “This is the intruder’s code. He’s trying out lots of keys to see if he can get in. And this,” you pointed to the screen next to it, “is our defence mechanism.”

“Extraordinary.” Loki’s low voice murmured. He was close. You turned your head and nearly had a heart attack at just how close. His sharp profile was illuminated by the blue glow of the monitor, his hair falling to his shoulders, one hand splayed on the desk, the other resting on the back of your chair. He looked beautiful. Perfect. He was leaning closer to the screen so he could see what was going on. Your breath hitched.

And then he turned his head.

Something that sounded an awful lot like a squeak escaped your throat.

Loki lifted an eyebrow. “Am I making you nervous, Agent Y/N?”

You pushed your glasses up your nose and leaned back, just an inch. “No?”

Loki’s eyes drifted over your face, before they met your gaze again. “Is that a question or a statement?”

“A… a statement,” you mumbled and, for good measure, added, “sir.”

His eyes darkened, a smirk curling the left side of his lips. “Are you scared of me?”

You tilted your head ever so slightly. “How can I be scared of you?”

“You’ve heard the stories, undoubtedly.”

“I did. And if I believed everything people told me and not looked beyond I would be incredibly shitty at my job.”

He smiled at that. It was small, but there, and it made him so attractive you felt your stupid heart starting to pound in your chest. Could he hear it?

“Do you like to read, Agent Y/N?”

Another adjustment of your glasses. “I do.”

“What would you say is your favourite book?” His voice was low and smooth.

His hand moved from your desk to the side of your face, where he gently pulled on a tendril, before he brushed it behind your ear. The back of his fingers skimmed your cheek for less than a second, but it sent you reeling. It was as if an electromagnetic pulse was slowly wiping clean your hard drive. You couldn’t think.

“Um, err, Jane.. Jane Eyre.”

He hummed. “I wonder why? Is it because she’s abandoned and rejected all her life?”

You shook your head slowly. “No. Because she’s forced to leave home, into a life she didn’t choose. But when she is given the freedom and space to grow she learns to be the master of her happiness.”

His eyes followed the curve of your neck and back up again. It almost felt as if he was touching you. “Interesting.”

You swallowed again, before he stood upright, nodded at you, turned and left. 

Your heart was pounding. And then your computer beeped and your attention was back on the screen.

“Oh pants…” Your fingers started flying over the keyboard. “Not today, Harris. Or any other day.”

Nine more books to go.

*****

He was onto you. Of course he was. After all, he was the God of Mischief and Lies. If anyone would find out who was behind this, it would be him. Personally, the preferred outcome was that he never would find out.

You had asked yourself often over the last 18 days why exactly you wanted to do this for him. But that was just it. You really had no other motive than wanting to do this for him. Maybe because you sympathised with him, being stuck somewhere far from home, feeling lonely and not really integrated. Maybe you had projected your own feelings onto him a tiny little bit. Possibly considerably. However, it was done with the best of intentions. You wanted to make this nice for him. The run up to Christmas. A little bit magical. He must like magic, he was a sorcerer after all, wasn’t he?

So what if you had started dreaming of him at night. He would lean over you as you sat at your desk, in all his tall- and broadness. This time his hands would be touching you. And he’d lean in to whisper into your ear. Admittedly, not words you would necessarily associate with such a situation.

When you would wake up you knew where to place the things he said to you in your dreams. He’d said them to you during missions. And yes, “how much longer till the download is complete, Agent Y/N?” was not remotely as sexy as “I’m going to ravish you now, thoroughly” would have been, for example. But your brain only had so much to work with and it worked for you.

You noticed a few things, however. Loki was around more often, probably just a silly coincidence, or you had started to pay more attention. He looked at you now. You’d look up and find him already looking at you, sometimes a little smile crossed his lips, but mostly it was just something with his eyes, they seemed… warmer, maybe?

However, to your horror you discovered that you had started to blush. Every single time this happened. So you spent a lot of time in the ladies’ toilets, splashing your face with cold water, only to see it even more flushed than before. Apparently, all the books you had read lied about that ‘splashing your face with cold water to calm down and not make people notice’-thing.

But it all boiled down to the fact that he was onto you. Maybe he was humouring you and seeing where this was going. Maybe he had found out already and you made him feel awkward. Or he was waiting for the opportune moment to expose and humiliate you. You weren’t sure which.

Right now it didn’t matter. You were so tired you could hardly see properly anymore. So when you decided to crash on the sofa in the common room, because it was halfway to your room, you didn’t think to check if anyone was there.

That was mistake number one.

You collapsed onto the sofa with a groan, eyes closed, head leaning against the back of the sofa.

“Fuck. My. Fucking. Life,” you complained to the universe. “Can you please make the appendage of that misogynistic wanker fall off already? For fuck’s sake!”

Mistake number two.

Someone chuckled. It came from rather close to you.

Dread filled you. Foul language was not tolerated in the workplace. To be fair you could argue that the common room was not your workplace per se, however, you did not want to start arguing with HR because they were absolute savages in the art of word twisting. Or just savages full stop.

Carefully, you cracked your eyes open. And there, on the sofa right next to you, sat Loki. One leg was stretched out in all its glorious length, the other bent at the knee, his forearm resting over it, the book in his lap now closed, one of his slender fingers acting as bookmark. For a moment you wondered what it would feel like to be the book.

“I hope it’s not my appendage you’re asking to be removed,” he said with a smirk.

You grappled to sit up, horrified. “Of course not! That would be awful… I mean, a terrible thing to wish for… you’d… err… such a loss of such a beautiful… I mean, I can only guess… but… um, err… heavens, please make me stop talking…”

You hid your head in a throw pillow, wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

Mistake number three.

The sound of a low, rumbly laugh made its way to your ears. It entered your system like a virus, leaving your limbs feeling weak and yearning. Was Loki laughing? You lifted your head and watched him, highly bemused at your idiotic display.

It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard. You felt a hard tug at your heart. Goodness, if this man wasn’t already a god, you’d have to declare him one. If he were the head of a religion you would throw out your atheist views and follow him to the end of the multiverse. He looked absolutely breathtaking. Then again, when did he not?

“I’m so sorry,” you started to apologise, “I don’t know what-”

With superhuman speed he moved and sat next to you, his finger on your lips. The feel of his digit on your mouth felt more intimate than any sexual intercourse you’d ever had.

And then he leaned in.

He was so close your cells were basically breathing him in. His eyes were locked onto yours and nothing would have been able to make you look away right then.

“Do you want to know what book I’m reading right now?” His quiet words did things to your insides that were not legal.

You just about managed to nod, his finger still in place.

“‘The Remains of the Day’ by Kazuo Ishiguro. Do you know it?” He waited for your affirmation. “It’s about a man who is in love with a woman. But he doesn’t tell her. When they meet again after decades, she tells him her life would have been different if she had married him. And you know what he does? He still won’t admit his feelings to her. He walks away from her. The first time he lets her go, the second time he walks away.”

You remembered the book very well. You had picked it out for him, after all.

“It’s a cruel story, Y/N. A love that is never acknowledged, nor consumed.” Loki’s eyes drifted from yours down to your mouth. His finger slowly traced the outline of your lips. It was too much, your eyes closed.

“Do you think love is this cruel?” Loki asked quietly. You felt his words as he spoke them almost onto your skin. So close.

“It-it can be,” you whispered. “But maybe, maybe that wasn’t the point of the story.”

“No?”

You opened your eyes to find him looking at you. He’d moved away a bit, giving you some space, waiting for you to elaborate.

“Maybe the point was to show that he chose his job over love. Twice. You can call it dignity or pride, but at the end he’s alone. Without love.”

“What about you, Y/N? Do you have love in your life?”

You weren’t able to look into his eyes. Slowly, you got off the sofa. You turned back to him to respond to find he’d stood up, too.

You looked down at your shoes. His shoes were black, of course, polished, perfect, like him. Yours were several seasons old. Worn. A bit of the shoe sole had started to peel off at the top of your toes. The bit you always kicked into the floor when you worked.

Your eyes wandered up his trousers, black, to the belt, his pullover, also black. He looked effortlessly elegant, poised. You, on the other hand, looked a mess, even in your work attire. Your heart grew heavy at the realisation. Your dreams were stupid. Turned out your heart was even more stupid. And suddenly you felt incredibly small in more ways than one next to the tall, powerful god.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you said: “I have known love, once. A long time ago.”

With that you pivoted on your heels and left, leaving Loki alone in the common room.

*****

Harris was an absolute tosser.

He just couldn’t leave things be. He insisted on trying to show you up, so he tried and tried to hack his way through your firewalls. Of course he had tried to hide his identity and it had made you chuckle, because you seriously had no idea how he could ever dare call himself a cyber security specialist if he covered up his tracks like a novice hacker.

In a way it was cute, but it was getting to the point of obsessive stalking and you frankly were rather tired of this little game by now. Particularly, since it kept you from your nice, warm, comfortable bed well past midnight.

However, Harris seemed to have changed tactics and started to badmouth you in the industry. Even Fury had called Tony and asked whether he should be worried, because Harris had dug up some hacking you’d done when you were much younger and much less ethical. Really it was unhinged, but everyone worked through teenage years in their own way.

You only knew this because you happened to be in Tony’s office and he had Fury on loudspeaker. Tony had pacified Fury without batting an eye, then hung up and asked if you’d be okay with him paying Harris a little visit, preferably as Iron Man. You had both laughed it off. But it bugged you.

So when you were on your way back to the tower from the compulsory (for all employees) counselling session and someone grabbed you, you weren’t surprised to come face to face with Harris. He didn’t lay a finger on you. No, he got two goons to do that for him.

Later, as you stumbled out of the lift and along the corridor, trying to make your way to your room, someone blocked your way.

“Speak of the devil! Y/N! We were just talking about you.” Tony. Other voices around him.

You kept your head down, thinking of how to get out of this unnoticed.

“We were just wondering if– Y/N? What happened?” You saw Tony’s hand reach out for you, but you flinched away.

Silence fell for a long moment.

Then a movement. Shoes appeared in your line of vision. You knew those shoes well. They had been on display on the couch for the past 22 days, attached to an Asgardian god.

He slowly held out his hand, palm up. An assurance, no harm. You gave the slightest nod. He moved the hand up and placed a finger under your chin so carefully you wanted to sob. The faintest of pressure had you lift your head to look up at Loki. His eyes scanned your appearance, stopping at your bruised hands that were trying to hold together your coat, taking in the blood splatters on the fabric, your busted lip, the lopsided glasses, the badly bent temple dangling off its hinge.

You never understood the expression ‘his features darkened’. You did now. Loki’s face transformed and you saw for the first time what a dangerous man he could be. Power radiated off him. You were glad it was not directed at you. His nostrils flared and you almost heard how much he was clenching his teeth.

“Names,” he ground out.

A hot tear rolled down your cheek and now that it started it didn’t want to stop. His eyes softened, something akin to vulnerability flitting across his features.

“H–Har…”

“Harris?” Tony asked softly. You nodded, still looking at Loki.

Loki rolled his lips in his mouth, his thumb swiping ever so lightly over the skin of your chin, before dropping his hand and walking to the lift in long strides.

“Nat?” Tony asked, the spy already by your side.

“Hold up, Reindeer Games!” Tony hollered behind you, as Romanoff led you down the corridor to your room. “I’m coming, too…”

It felt as if you were having an out of body experience as you were peeled out of your bloodied coat, your clothes and body assessed quickly but gently. She pulled out her phone after she ushered you into the shower.

“Tony? No forced intercourse, but lots of bruising…,” was all you heard before the hot spray of the water ran into your ears, blocking all noise out.

*****

Your glasses were fixed and you could see properly again. That was important, otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to see Harris’ face on the news as he was escorted - handcuffed - from a courtroom and shoved into a police van, followed by the two goons who had helped him.

When you turned from the screen above the cashier, you saw Loki next to Tony across the canteen, looking at you. You walked over, clutching your sandwich.

“So, um… thank you,” you said, gesturing to the screen, “for that.”

Tony put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently, before his eyes gazed behind you. “Is that a double cheeseburger I see? Excuse me.”

And off he went, leaving you alone with the Asgardian god.

You shuffled your feet, studying the floor.

“Thanks again-”

“Are you okay?” 

You both said at the same time. You laughed quietly, looking up at him. He smiled. You’d never seen Loki smile.

“I’m fine, thank you,” you said.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

You wanted to say so much more, do so much more, like hug him. But he was a god. You weren’t exactly sure what the protocol was for hugging gods. The awkward silence thickened.

“So, I’ll see you around?”

He was still smiling. “Yes. See you around.”

You were fairly sure you were blushing as you scampered off, back to your office.

*****

Bryant Park was one of your favourite places to be in New York. For one, it was right behind the public library - your heaven. For another, it was close to the Tower and you could wander the paths under the lovely trees. The park was very busy as it was Christmas Eve and people wanted to while away the time in the Winter Village until the big day. But as the ice rink closed down and the skaters came off, noses and cheeks red from the cold, the park started to empty.

You sat on a bench under one of the trees, gloved hands deep in your coat pockets, a woolly hat and scarf keeping you warm. Your head was tilted back and you watched the snowflakes dance and twirl in the cold wind.

“Y/N,” someone called.

Loki stood a few metres away from you, a black coat making him look even taller. He was not donning a hat or a scarf, he looked comfortable with the cold. The snow clung to his dark hair, a soft dusting was on his shoulders. You envied the snowflakes.

You got to your feet and he took a few steps closer, looking down at you.

“Were you enjoying the activities?” Loki asked, nodding to the ice rink.

“No, I just… I just like to sit here,” you said, feeling a bit silly. “I like the trees and the snow. It’s… peaceful.”

He nodded.

“How about you? Fancied a turn on the ice?”

He laughed and you watched the cloud mix with your breath. Now you envied your breath.

“Actually, I was looking for you.”

“Me?”

He took another step towards you. “Yes.”

“Why? Did something happen at the Tower?” Worriedly, you fumbled your phone out of the coat pocket and checked it.

A large hand covered it. You looked up. “Nothing happened. I wanted to talk to you.”

Nervously, you glanced down at his hand that still covered your phone. If you hadn’t been wearing gloves your hands would have had actual skin on skin contact. He dropped his hand to his side.

“Am I in trouble?”

He shook his head. “I… I wanted to thank you.”

“What for?”

His hand pulled a book out of his pocket. “For this.�� He slid it back in the folds of his coat.

“Oh.” You didn’t really know how to feel or react. You knew he’d been onto you, so it was no surprise he’d sussed it out. He was, after all, the God of Mischief and Lies. But you had to give him kudos for letting it play out.

“Um, you’re welcome.” You bit your lip.

“You don’t know what this meant– what this means to me.”

It was impossible to look at him.

“I was dreading this time of year here on Midgard. But your incredibly generous advent calendar made it feel… like when I first visited here with my mother.” He grasped your gloved hands in his. “I miss her dearly, so thank you. For giving me this.”

You were too choked up to say anything, so you just nodded.

“Can I enquire what your reason was?”

It was so cautious, as if he was worried it might scare you off. And yet, the question threw you, most likely because you had been asking yourself the very same thing from the moment of its conception in your shower. It was just there, a need, an urgency you didn’t know where it came from or why it existed. It was something you had to do. Like breathing.

But over the course of the last few weeks, particularly the last few days, it had become painfully clear why you did it.

“I wanted, no, I needed you to be happy.”

He squeezed your hands gently. The tips of his shoes, his shiny, polished shoes, now touched yours.

“Please look at me.”

So you did. He looked different… vulnerable maybe.

“Why do you need me to be happy?” The question was another cloud and you breathed it in, let it fill your lungs.

“Because…” You were afraid to say it, to admit it. But something in his eyes made you courageous. Either that, or foolish.

“Because I watched you, during missions and in briefings and ops planning. You started to believe what they said about you. And it’s not true. There’s so much you don’t share, don’t tell them and I see it. It’s right there in your eyes. And I didn’t want you to lose yourself. And it’s selfish, I know, but I need you to be happy… because if you are, so am I.”

“If you think that’s selfish, then I am guilty of this notion, too.”

Loki raised his right hand to run the backs of his fingers over your cold cheek. “I knew after three days it was you. I wanted to see where this was going, what your motivation was. And I… when I saw you after Harris… I was filled with so much rage and fear. That I would lose you. Before I had you.”

He leaned his forehead against yours, you closed your eyes, heart beating out of your chest at what you were hearing. Was this a dream?

Loki’s voice was just above a whisper. “Can I? Have you?”

You moved away slightly to look into his eyes. “Yes.”

He leaned in, his hands splaying on your back, as you stood on your toes. The moment his lips touched yours, you felt a current run straight to your heart. It was as if your brain rewired, the missing piece of the primer clicked into place and unlocked everything.

Snow was falling as Loki kissed you under the tree. You didn’t hear the whistles and hollering of passerbys. You didn’t feel the cold wind. You felt elated, buzzing even.

“Your phone is buzzing,” Loki murmured against your lips.

“Hm?” you said dreamily. 

“Your phone is buzzing,” Loki smiled, “someone’s calling you.”

Quickly you pulled out the damned device. Before you could even say your name, you heard Tony say: “So sorry for disrupting, Y/N, but we got a slight issue here that needs your expert skills pronto.”

You hung up, burying your head in Loki’s chest. His laugh rumbled in his chest. “We’ll talk more later.”

Breathing in his scent and holding onto him, you weren’t ready to let go. “Promise?”

*****

“Oh god, yes,” you sighed in absolute bliss. “That’s the spot, right there.”

Your groan sounded through the kitchen. You deserved that after three hours of extra work on Christmas Eve.

“Here?” Nat asked.

“Yes, yes! Please don’t stop,” you begged, putty in her hands, eliciting more noises from you.

“Maybe you should try yoga. Your shoulders and your whole upper body are so tense and full of knots. There’s a class I go to tomorrow at lunchtime, if you want to join me?”

“No time,” you murmured. “Heavens, Nat, what else can you do with those hands?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she teased.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Banner interrupted, grabbing Nat by the hand and dragging her to the door. “I’m happy to share my girlfriend’s masseuse skills for a severe case of muscle lock, but I’m afraid I have a personal request now.”

You opened your eyes to catch Nat winking at you, a slight blush on her cheeks as she was pulled out of the room. “So I’m your girlfriend now?” you heard before they disappeared down the corridor.

You laughed and turned in your stool. Thor, Scott and Loki stood staring. Thor at the ends of his braids, Scott at his fingernails, Loki at you. Eyes intense and dark. You swallowed.

“Y/N, a word, if you please,” Loki said, before wrapping his fingers around your wrist and marching out of the room, with you trying to keep up with his long strides, your coat and shoulder bag in your other hand. 

He didn’t say a single word until you reached his room - it was closest - and the door shut behind you, locking the outside world out. He pushed you against the door, arm placed against the wood above your head, body leaning into yours, not quite touching.

“That was… a rather interesting display,” he remarked quietly, his breath puffing against your face as he spoke. “In future, I would prefer if your keening was reserved for me.”

Your hands found the buttons of his shirt. “That sounds like an exclusive right to me.”

“It most certainly is.” His lips hovered over yours.

Your index finger slipped in the space between two buttons. “A right that needs to be earned,” you whispered, your finger grazing his skin.

His breath hitched ever so slightly. “Do not challenge me, darling,” he leaned in, his body moving against yours teasingly. “It might be,” his mouth brushed against your earlobe, “too taxing for you.”

You scoffed, but his lips silenced you. His stance shifted as he picked you up and placed you on the nearest surface - a sideboard - and stepped between your legs. He broke the kiss, to cup your face. For a long moment he just gazed at you. The heat in his eyes seemed to intensify, turning you into a needy mess. He made a show of taking off your glasses, folding the temples and carefully putting them on the side board next to you. Your core clenched.

He held out his hand for you to hop off the furniture. You took it and he took to your lips.

It was quite possible that several things fell off on your way to Loki’s bedroom. When you pushed him into the wall to open the damned buttons of his shirt, a picture might have fallen. A vase, perhaps, when he picked you up and spun you around so your back was against the doorframe next to the fragile ornament. Your head hit the heavy frame of a painting, rendering it lopsided, when Loki feasted on your throat, and you tilted your head back to allow him better access.

Kissing, licking, nipping, sucking - he was intent on leaving marks. Your fingers somehow were in his hair, keeping his head in place. Soft, his hair was so soft. A sharp contrast to the teeth you felt pulling on your skin. His ministrations drew a long moan from you.

Loki smiled against your skin. “Yes, my siren, sing.”

Your back hit the mattress and he crawled over you. His hair a curtain, screening you off from the rest of the world in your own sacred space. His shirt hung open, your hands reached out, tracing each line, each dip. His tongue against yours mimicked the motion of his hips that rolled into you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, meeting each movement, as if you had practised this dance many times before. He pulled away to tug off your pullover. His fingers pushed up your bra and then he sucked your nipple into his hot mouth, making you arch your back.

“Loki, please.”

You didn’t really know what you begged for. More, probably. More of this, more of him.

He pulled you up so you both were kneeling on the bed. Shaking hands fumbled with clothes and fastenings and then you were both naked. Your breath hitched at his beauty.

“Can I…,” you started, voice sounding hoarse. You looked up at him. “Please let me worship you.”

Something flickered across his face - surprise? He gave a curt nod and then watched every single one of your movements.

You took his right hand, tracing each finger with yours, the veins on the back of his hands. You brought his hand up to your face, cradling it to your cheek, before kissing the palm of his hand. One finger at a time, you sucked it into your mouth, to the knuckle, your tongue swirling around the digit, before releasing it and pressing a kiss to the tip, before moving on to the next.

Your hands traced the skin of the inside of his arm, his veins, the rise and fall of his muscles, and up over his shoulder, across his chest to his left arm, which you gave the same treatment. Each birthmark, each scar was kissed. Your hands skimmed over his chest, your lips followed the path. Loki’s breath stuttered when you sucked on his left nipple, before you released it, softly blowing on it. It puckered. You bestowed the same treatment upon the other nipple.

“Please, lie down,” you whispered and he complied.

You lay next to him, kissing his forehead, your fingers running through his hair along his scalp, gently tugging. Onwards, to kiss the curve of each eyebrow, the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones, his chin, along his jawline to his ear. You felt his body shiver when you breathed: “You are so beautiful, inside and out.”

Then your teeth closed around his earlobe, gently pulling. A deep moan sounded through the room. Up until now he had let you do whatever you wanted to and not touched you. But his restraint waned and his hands splayed on your back, pulling you flush against his body. You kept going, your lips now worshipping his delectable throat. He tilted his head back to give you better access.

“Herregud,” he rasped as you kissed, licked and sucked on his sensitive skin. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard, his hands growing slack on your back.

You kissed the dip between his collar bones and worked your way down his torso, lips kissing, hands caressing. Further and further you went, along his abs, dipping in his belly button, following the trail of hair below. You leaned back a bit, to look at him. He was fully erect, heavy, swaying slightly. The purple mushroom head gleaming with pearls of pre-cum, thick veins running down the shaft to his pubic hair.

You licked your lips, curling one of your hands around his base, the other cupping his testacles. Then you looked up at him. He was up on his elbows, staring down at you hotly, biting his lips as he watched you in anticipation. You made sure to have and maintain eye contact and then you took him into your mouth.

He hissed, his head falling back, a loud moan following when you hollowed your cheeks to apply suction, the salty taste of his precum on your tongue.

You moved your hand up his length, still sucking, giving his testicles a gentle yet confident squeeze. Up your mouth went, your tongue circling his slit, before sucking him back in. The third time you did it, his hands clasped your shoulders.

“Stop.”

You looked up at him. Loki was breathing hard and you let his cock slide from your mouth with a wet ‘plop’.

In an instant your back was on the mattress and he hovered over you.

“Please don’t misunderstand,” he explained, voice rough, “I loved it, but I have plans.”

He settled between your legs, eyes locked on yours, hand on your thigh, pulling your leg around his waist. His hand slid up, splaying over the fullness of your ass, before giving it a firm squeeze, then sliding over the globe and dipping between your legs. When his slender digits made contact with your aching centre, you cried out. Your whole body was throbbing with need.

“All this nectar is for me?” he rasped. 

You nodded.

“Oh, I have to see this.” And in one fluid motion he sat back on his heels, spreading your legs with his hands, looking at your dripping wet centre in amazement.

“Wait a moment,” he said, before he scrambled off the bed and disappeared in the corridor, only to come back a few moments later to resume his place between your legs. He handed you something with a smirk. Your glasses.

“I want you to see me.”

You put them on, your heartbeat accelerating. You bit your lip in anticipation. He looked up at you, his hot breath puffing against your wet core and then his flat tongue licked you all the way from your entrance to your clit. Your fingers fisted in the bedsheets, eyes falling shut in ecstasy, mouth open in a silent cry.

“Look at me.”

You did. He started a rhythm of licking, sucking and lapping that had the coil inside you wind up and tighten impossibly in no time at all. You fell back onto a pillow. Then he slid two fingers inside you and your hands dove into his hair, tugging, scraping.

What a visual. Loki between your legs, eyes burning into yours, humming and moaning against your clit, fingers sliding in and out of you, curling just at the right time, at the exact angle you needed. It was as if you were a book he’d read a thousand times before. Your toes curled and then you fell into the abyss. You moaned out his name over and over as the orgasm washed over you, leaving your legs shaking.

Loki moved up your body, placing kisses on your thighs, your tummy, your breasts, before he brushed some hair out of your face. You took your glasses off, he placed them on the bedside table. His eyes searched yours.

“I need you, Loki,” you managed, pulling him down.

He kissed you deeply, slowly, the taste of you on his tongue. His hips rocked forward and he slid inside you all the way to the hilt. Loki stilled and broke the kiss, resting his damp forehead against yours.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

Your fingers caressed his back. Unable to form words, you nodded. Then he moved. His hips rocked into yours in slow, deep thrusts. He filled you so well, stimulating places inside you you didn’t know existed. Your hands ran over his back, down his sides, making him shiver. He watched you, eyes dark but warm. One hand found your swollen clit and his fingers circled and rubbed, applying the pressure you needed to fall into oblivion again. Your feet pressed into his ass cheeks to bring him closer, deeper and his name fell from your lips over and over.

He rocked inside you as you rode out your orgasm. You opened your eyes to look at him in wonder. Never had you seen anything as beautiful as Loki. He seemed to glow from the inside. Maybe it was your imagination. You lifted your head, cupping his face to pull him in for a kiss. His tongue moved languidly against yours, savouring the intimacy.

Then he started moving faster, pulling one of your legs up to rest the calf against his shoulder. Deeper, you wanted him deeper. You couldn’t get close enough. His mouth was devouring yours in a needy kiss, all tongues and teeth now as he pistoned faster into you, your hips meeting each of his thrusts. His lips found your nipple, sucking, pulling on it, moving to its sibling. You couldn’t believe you were on the verge again already. Never before had you been able to orgasm more than once during intercourse.

The room was quiet but for the moans, the heavy breathing. You were so wet that your coupling’s noise was wonderfully dirty, edging you both on even more.

“Look at us,” Loki commanded and you did.

Nothing had ever been so erotic as watching him fill you, stretch you, sliding out, covered in your juices. His fingers were on your clit again, rubbing, circling.

“I don’t know if I can…”

“One more, darling, give me one more,” he insisted, breathlessly.

His hips moved faster, as did his fingers and you were there, on the edge. Loki’s eyes met yours and he knew. His movements stuttered, pupils fully blown, jaw slack, a drop of sweat sliding down his temple.

“Cum with me,” you whispered, your fingers dragging down his back, possibly breaking skin, squeezing and pulling his ass into you.

And he did, propelling you into bliss with him. Your name fell from his lips in a string of Norse profanities. His cock pulsated as the hot ropes of his seed marked your insides as his, your pussy eagerly clenching around him, making sure every last drop would be spent inside you. His movements slowed and then he stilled, buried inside you.

Loki’s lips pressed onto yours in a tender kiss. You stayed in the embrace until you both caught your breath. Then he pulled out of you, your mixed juices running out of you. He could have cleaned you up using magic.

But Loki got out of bed, got a wet flannel from the bathroom and gently cleaned you, kissing your tired body, before sliding back into bed. He pulled you into his arms, your hands joined over his heart, legs intertwined and you both lay there, in your bubble of utter and complete happiness under warm covers, watching the snowflakes dance outside the window in the early hours of Christmas Day.

Christmas Day!

“Oh, wait here!”

You scrambled off the bed and ran to the door, forgetting about your nakedness, pulling your shoulder bag from under your coat. You pulled something from it and brought it back to Loki. He was sitting up, forearms resting on his knees, an intrigued look on his face. 

“Merry Christmas,” you said.

He looked at you and then at the present you held out to him. He cocked an eyebrow as he took it and pulled the fabric ribbon off. His hands parted the paper and then he grew completely still.

“Where in the nine realms did you get this?” he asked after a few moments, voice sounding rough.

“A friend of mine got her hands on this a while back. I thought you might like it.”

He stared at the book, transfixed. His slender fingers caressing the embossed letters on the front and then he lifted it to take in the scent of the pages. His eyes closed.

“Do you? Like it, I mean?” You were worried about this book. It had cost an arm and a leg, but you thought it would be worth it.

“Like it?” Loki asked, finally looking at you and pulling you on his lap. “My mother used to read me his poems when I was a child. I rediscovered it later. This is…”

He was searching for words, failed to find them and instead kissed you, hard, hand fisting in your hair. After a long moment, he broke the kiss.

“Thank you, love.”

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, stroking his pulse point.

“Will you read it to me?” you asked, a bit out of breath.

Nodding, he sat against the headboard, you curled up against him with his arm around you. He made sure you were both tucked under the covers. Then he opened the book and cleared his throat.

“Kormákr Ӧgmundarson ‘Sigurðardrápa ‘Drápa’. This is one of my favourites, he wrote it for the love of his life.”

His fingers wandered up your arm.

“Brunnu beggja kinna

bjǫrt ljós á mik drósar,

oss hlœgir þat eigi,

eldhúss of við felldan.”

His digits absently stroked your ribcage, skirting over the side of your breast. The rhythm and intonation of his deep voice made you clench your thighs.

“Enn til ǫkkla svanna

ítrvaxins gatk líta,

þrǫ́ muna oss of ævi

eldask, hjá þreskeldi.”

He paused, closing the book and brushing his lips against the skin of your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut.

“What-what does he say?” you all but stuttered.

Loki kissed along your collarbone. Humming against your skin.

“The bright lights of both

her cheeks burned onto me

from the fire-hall's felled wood;

no cause of mirth for me in that.”

His hands cupped your breasts as he sucked and teased one of the nipples. Your hands tugged on his hair, desperate for him again already. You felt his need hard and heavy against your thigh.

“By the threshold I gained a glance

at the ankles of this girl

of glorious shape.”

Loki moved to lie between your legs, hands sliding over your breasts, your tummy, your thigh, down to your ankle, lifting it to wrap it around his hips.

“Yet while I live

that longing will never leave me.”

His voice faltered as he rocked his hips forward and your bodies were joined once more.

“That longing will never leave me,” he repeated like a vow, eyes serious and warm.

“Nor me,” you pledged, before you lost yourselves in the physical expression of your feelings once more.

~ fin ~

[startanewdream]

I've always wanted to write a scene of mutual agreement and support (friendship is a strong word) between Ginny and Romilda Vane, so here's around 1600 words of something that might have happened during Year 7.

*****

They wait until after dinner to round on her.

Ginny is mildly surprised; she'd guessed they would question her as soon as she got off the train, but perhaps they thought that Snape's speech—not the Headmaster's, she'd never consider him so—might terrify her enough to make her betray everything she has ever believed on. If so, they were very mistaken; seeing Snape in the middle of the staff table, with Death Eaters by his side, only infused her Gryffindor spirit.

"Weasley," calls Alecto Carrow. She has a mind to pretend to ignore her, but the mass of students climbing the stairs seems to freeze with that call, and Ginny has no choice but to answer it, all eyes on her as she walks to Alecto Carrow.

"Yes, Professor." She puts as much spite in that word as she can. Neville and Luna suddenly materialize next to her, and Ginny almost wishes they would stay away, as if there is any protection to be found this year.

Alecto looks her up and down. "That's it?" Her voice is mocking. "That's Potter's girlfriend?"

By her side, Crabble and Goyle nod; their gazes are not as unappreciative as Alecto's. With a shudder, Ginny thinks she will favour disdain any day.

"I thought Potter had better taste."

She buries her nails into her palm. Don't answer, she tells herself, and tries to keep a look of disinterest.

"Where is your boyfriend?"

Her rehearsed answer comes in a bored tone. "I would know if I had any." It feels more than ever that everyone is staring at her.

Alecto doesn't seem convinced, nor do her cronies.

"They were dating," says Goyle, in a whisper that everyone can hear. "Everyone saw it, they were snogging all around the place."

"It's what happens when you are dating someone," snaps Ginny. "We've broken up." She hesitates for a tiny beat. "He dumped me."

This time her rehearsed line doesn't sound credible, despite being the truth. Everyone's gaze seems to burn, evaluating her answer, and, for a moment, Ginny waits for someone to question this, to raise the absurdity of her words: they were in love. As Goyle had noted, anyone could see how they felt about each other; Harry had been beaming the whole time they were together, all those few weeks of sunshine and happiness and hope. Harry wouldn't just dump her—

And then Alecto Carrow laughs.

"I guess Potter already got what he was after, then?" She mocks. "Blood traitors aren't a good value if..."

"Perhaps the girl is lying," another voice pops in, and Ginny turns to see Amycus Carrow joining his sister. His gaze upon her makes Ginny shiver; she remembers all too well duelling him. "Perhaps she knows more than she's letting on—"

"I wouldn't think so," Luna says, her voice as dreaming as ever. "If she knew, she wouldn't be here."

"Harry always kept his secrets," Neville adds, crossing his arms.

Amycus and Alecto share a look before Amycus takes a step forward.

"I will be the judge of that. If we have Potter's precious girlfriend—"

"I am not even his girlfriend anymore!"

It doesn't seem to matter, though. Terror floods her, not so much for herself; there isn't anything that she can share with them, but if somehow Harry finds out that they've got her—their breakup will be for nothing—he is too stupid and too noble to do something reckless—

Amycus grabs her arm; Ginny dives her hand into her pocket, but before she can take out her wand, many things happen. Professor McGonagall appears, Neville points his wand at Amycus, and Romilda Vane laughs nervously.

"Please," she says. "Weasley was his girlfriend, so what?”

That makes everyone draw their eyes to her. Romilda tosses her hair out of her face, seemingly enjoying the attention, but Ginny can see a thin layer of sweat breaking through the girl's careful makeup.

"Harry was always smiling at me, flirting unashamedly, even when he was dating her. I wasn’t the only one either. Everyone knew he wasn't good business. A ladies' man, that one."

Ginny blinks; she is not alone. The year before, when Harry was at the height of his popularity at Hogwarts, everyone's favourite Chosen One, he had drawn many eyes. Ginny had found it bothersome, but she could understand what everyone was seeing: that gorgeous young man with messy dark hair and green eyes, tall and fit, with the added benefit of seeming oblivious to his own charm, almost shy. It had been endearing.

That also was one of the reasons why, when Harry and Ginny started dating, everyone wanted to talk about it. It had been huge news for Hogwarts' standard.

There was no way anyone would believe that Romilda was telling the truth.

"Potter never had any other girlfriend," Crabbe mumbles.

Romilda laughs derisively. "I wasn't his girlfriend, haven't you heard what I just said? He just liked to flirt." She nudges her friend. "Do you remember, Lisa? I told you Harry never took his eyes off me."

Lisa looks terrified, but she nods. "Yes," she confirms in a small voice. "And you—you shared chocolate once."

"Harry dated Cho," someone from the Ravenclaw crowd says, and there's a murmur of agreement.

"I went with Harry to a Christmas party last year," notes Luna. She skips the part where they went as friends.

"I think I saw him snogging a girl behind the greenhouses," Hannah Abbott says.

At her side, a boy nods. "I saw something in the library once."

People start adding comments, their voices mingling in a cacophony. The weirdest part is that Ginny knows no one is lying; people are telling about the times they saw Harry with a girl — only she was this girl, this only girl, but no one specifies that.

"Quiet, quiet!" Alecto sounds annoyed. She looks at Crabbe and Goyle. "Is this true?"

They shrug, lost.

"I saw Potter with Chang at Madam Puddifoot's," Pansy Parkinson confirms, distasteful. "And he went with Loony Lovegood to Slughorn's party."

"That would be Professor Slughorn, Miss Parkinson," chides Professor McGonagall, taking a definite step ahead and placing herself between the Carrows and Ginny. She raises her arm and, almost without a second glance, lowers Neville's still extended arm. "I do not see why a student's romantic life is under scrutiny at this hour of the night, especially a student who is not even here at the moment, but the others have class tomorrow morning."

"This is more important than classes," Amycus spats.

"I remind you this is still a school," Professor McGonagall says coldly.

Amycus' answer is cut by a bored voice. "What is this?" Snape walks, easily opening his way between the students gathered at the door.

"We are trying to interrogate the Weasley girl," Alecto says. "To find out the whereabouts of Potter. She was his girlfriend."

Snape rolls his eyes. "You heard the others. Potter was a lover-boy; that is not surprising considering how his father behaved with his fans." He regards Ginny coldly. "Weasley is not special. I doubted Potter ever shared anything more than a snog with her."

There's an underlying truth in his words that stung her, but before she can react, Snape is already addressing Professor McGonagall.

"Take your students to bed, Minerva. It would not be advisable to be out of the bed at this hour."

Professor McGonagall, who had been frowning at Snape as if trying to figure out something, bristles; there's nothing but repulse in her eyes as she nods.

"Of course, Severus." She turns to Ginny and the others. "Go to the Common Room, now."

And she casts a warning glance at Ginny, who runs to meddle between the other Gryffindor students climbing up the stairs. Her heart doesn't stop beating painfully until she enters the Common Room, and only then she looks back; the Carrows aren't in sight. She doubts this is the last time they will try to question her, but for now, she can breathe easily and give Neville a feeble smile when he looks at her.

"We will watch your back," he whispers.

"It will be fine," she says, with a confidence she doesn't feel. Nothing about her experience at Hogwarts so far gives her any faith that things will turn out well.

And then she catches a mop of black hair.

"Romilda," she calls. Romilda pauses on her way to the stairs.

"Yeah?"

Ginny waits until they are alone to whisper: "Thank you."

Romilda nods. There’s a moment of silence, during which Romilda eyes the stairs as if considering fleeing the scene before she asks: "Did he really break up with you?"

Ginny gulps. "Yeah."

"Oh, I thought—"

"No, it was true."

She waits for some remark; Romilda was truly determined to get Harry the year before, and she had pestered Ginny when she was dating Harry.

"He never actually flirted with me," Romilda says in a rushed whisper. "And you were special to him, I—I spent a lot of time watching him and trying to get his attention, but he never glanced at me... because he was too busy ogling at you."

Warmth spreads inside Ginny; she cannot help her smile. "Harry didn't ogle."

"Yes, all the time. He had it hard for you. Still has, I'd bet." Romilda smiles awkwardly. "Not very womanizer of him."

Ginny's eyes wide. "About that—if anyone finds out that you were exaggerating—"

"I'll talk to my friends. No one is going to say anything."

"I know. I trust you." They look at each other; it suddenly occurs to Ginny that Romilda has no idea, not really, of what could happen if anyone suspects her lie. Romilda never faced a Death Eater. Ginny hopes she never does. "It will be fine."

It's the same thing she told Neville before, but now there's a promise in her voice.

Romilda nods one last time. "Night, Ginny."

"Night, Romilda."

[angelsrcute]

You said dom reader is okay so I am LAYING MY BRAINROT ON THE TABLE—

I'd like to respectfully request Overblot Boys (sans Riddle) being dominated by the reader (preferably afab & gn, there's so much submissive fem reader stuff out there & I want rep as a dom-leaning vers).

Those poor boys all need some therapizing & to get out of their own heads so bad— so what's a better way of doing so than taking charge and making them forget how to speak by pleasuring them? Sure, they can be defiant; and they can deal with a firm hand correcting them. But good boys who admit they need help & ask for it can be rewarded with fucking until they're empty and fuzzy-headed. ^^

The only one I had a semi-specific scenario in mind for was Jamil— him being blindfolded while being sucked off. His attempt at trying to regain control leads to him getting a smack on the ass & tied up so the reader can mark his pretty torso with hickies that they press on while cooing to him & edging him until he yields.

... can you tell I've been repressed lately? Lmao-

WALK EM LIKE A DOG. 𝝑𝝔

૮𐔌ྀི ´ ཀ ྀི 𐦯ྀིა 𝐍-𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 !! ; Sub!Leona, Jamil and Azul (separate) + Dom!F!Reader ➜ cws: Brat taming, nipple play, biting, blindfold use, gag use, spanking (once), restraints (Jamil), mommy kink, crying, use of strap on, praising (Azul), leash and collar use, cunnilingus, praising, hair pulling (Leona). ᡴꪫ‎

꒰ † ੭ — Part 1; I absolutely loved writing for this idea! Though I'm still wondering about what to write for the rest, don't mind if it's late, haha! <3

❝ 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋 ❞ — 🪦

This man is definitely a brat, always running his big mouth off. So to make him behave you blindfolded him and put a cloth around his mouth, good, now he will finally shut up. You leave trails of kisses down his neck, biting and sucking on his sensitive spot. You kneel down and stroke his cock a few times before taking it in your mouth.

God, it felt so good, he could feel your eyes were on him— his back arching as he gripped the sheets. His moans were muffled by the gag, he tried to pull away but you held him, landing a smack on his ass. “Behave, if you want to cum, you'd have to be a good boy.” You spat out, smiling at his state. You continued what you were doing, pressing kisses on his cock and edging him! When are you even gonna let the poor boy cum!? Atleast he's listening to you like a good boy after being tied up because of his bratty attitude. <3

❝ 𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐋 ❞ — 🪦

He'd be such a pathetic crying mess, your good little boy! Just shower him with praises and kisses while you thrust inside his hole with your strap-on and he's already fucked dumb. He can only focus on how good it feels, maybe being weak isn't so bad, if he gets to be in your arms. You'd wipe away his tears and tell him he's the best.

Worship his body, play with his sensitive little nipples, leave love bites on his skin— he loves it all, he'd show them off with no shame if he wanted to. He'd definitely be ashamed about the noises he's making so he buries his head between the pillow as you fuck him. Maybe this guy also has a mommy kink! <3

“Gonna cum for mommy, yeah? Let yourself go, my baby.”

❝ 𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀 ❞ — 🪦

He'd never admit he likes you dominating him, people are supposed to bow down before him— He is the king, isn't he? But no, you're currently sitting on the bed while holding the leash attached to his collar. How degrading. He can't believe he enjoys it!

His tongue darted out, lapping up your sweet juices. Your fingers tangling itself in his hair as you pull his head back, “How about you beg and maybe I'll end your punishment? Fair deal, right?”

He doesn't meet your eyes but whispers something you can't hear, “What was that, sweetie? You're always so loud, what's wrong, hm?” You try not to laugh at the pathetic man in front of you, you can see his ears turning red as he speaks louder, “P-Please let me pleasure you—”

“Good pup, go ahead.” You watch as he eagerly dives back, you grip his hair tighter as you feel your orgasm coming. You pull him closer and cum in his mouth, he licks you clean. You let go of his hair, letting him catch his breath, “Well done, now, let's reward you for being good for me, shall we?” <3