#i think i'll go with auburn...

[wholeasscosplay]

Cosplay dillema: do I get a black or auburn wig for the Bride of Frankenstein? Black is obvious and recognizable, and what you see on screen. But her actual wig was auburn!

Screen accuracy or actual accuracy..... which to choose

[cloudcountry]

i love you twisted wonderland i love you people i've met because of twisted wonderland i love you characters in twisted wonderland i love you

[grotesquevi]

★ cupid carries a gun.

open up your skull, i'll be there climbing up the walls.

cw # 18+ mdni, modern au, mentions of marijuana, dealer+loser!ellie, blink and you miss a slight pervert behavior, sub!reader, switch!slightdom ellie, pussyslapsyum, pet names, fingering, public sex.

an # if you recognize this it may be because it's from my previous account aka @vicorices who got deleted out of nowhere, this is me trying to get all my work back up again cause i'm not losing three months of work thanks to a shitty team who wiped me out of the internet.

the first time she saw you, she called you bro by accident.

it happens unexpected. ellie's been selling weed for a while now and she's used to get random text messages from unknown numbers: a friend of a friend, a recommendation from some old client — of course when she got your text you're not going to receive special treatment, not when she greets you like she would greet a guy, asking you where to meet since the club's big.

you're friends with cat, that's how you got her number. your usual provider is being insane with ridiculous prices you cannot afford not even by chance, so you're searching for someone else, a reliable source you can buy your weed from without getting into much trouble.

she’s perfect for the job.

it's a surprise either way when you tell her to meet you close to the main stairs in the first floor, and you think you saw her by the time you get there, but before you can approach your phone lights up with a new notification from an unknown number you now recognize.

you like it, making them think you’re a man, confuse the people you buy weed from. it's funny cause it's not the first time it happens, matter of fact, it's really common as you approach the auburn haired girl, noticing she's far less intimidating than your last seller, less tattoos on the face to instead, be covered in freckles and green eyes.

and to ellie — it's clear you aren't a bro too.

you don't pay much attention since it's a quick interaction, but to ellie its enough to make her spiral. too much weed, too much booze that night made her look at you like you're most beautiful girl out there, barely illuminated by the sporadic lights that changes time to time as you approach to her in a nice top of a band she also hears.

"hey. sorry to make you wait" you're too kind to her rough heart, yet from up close she's able to look at your face properly: where the fuck did you know cat from? why she hadn't seen you before too? was she hiding you from her?

"ellie," she presents herself like you do and she's almost a little shy to ask you to walk with her to a less crowded space, cause it sounds different from when she usually asks, slapping herself mentally for being so lame when she meets a pretty girl in a situation like this: don't be a fucking pussy. "do you mind if we move to a quieter place?"

"no, no problem" you reply "i was going to ask you the same, actually. don't want to get kicked out from here."

and you must be really trustful person, cause ellie could be a bad person and you're following her willingly, entering a dirty, small bathroom only to lock the door beneath her not really knowing her true intentions. you know she's not going to do anything when she's nervously speaking to you as the space got way reduced.

"so, you're friends with cat" what's she even doing? trying to pull off some small talk she sucks for? either way your nodding as ellie gives you a small bag with an smiley face on it, letting you see the weed she's going to sell you out first — "you study here in this university?"

"yeah, it’s my last year" you say inspecting the weed with a pleased look, sure you're buying when you take a deep breath and it seems like actual weed and not a fucking rock so tight it seems it came in somebody's ass, good smell, some purple there between different shades of green "film school."

"sick," she looks at you for a moment since you're too busy looking at the product. under the white lights ellie can see the details on your face now, the small moles, the scars, things she wasn't aware of as she wasn't so close as she is now — "it's okay? you like it?"

“smells real good, my last supplier was pretty shit and always had the same strain" you find her concern cute, sure she must take pride in selling good stuff, maybe that's why cat shared her number so reluctant to it, you'd gatekeep a good dealer too.

“that’s lemon haze” ellie explains as a subtle layer of red spreads right over her nose, must be the weather inside the bathroom or something like that, but it's hot as she stares at your eyes and she's betting you must be thinking she's the weirdest girl in the planet. her flannel's too fucking tight, too thick. "it's a nice sativa, wont leave you stupid nor like a hungry animal."

girls like you may be out of her league, but even when ellie's brain saying the same, it does not matter when your fingers brush against hers and you're laughing at her bad joke, giggling like she's oh so funny and it's enough. it may be a tactic she's falling all the way in when saying a lower price than regular and your eyes widen cause you don't believe it: why would such a good quality be cheaper than the usual shit?

"you study in this university too?" you curiously ask as if you're trying to catch the trick, clever girl. she’s selling you cheaper to secure you.

"forensic science" you seemed a bit surprised by it since you didn't talk much to stem girls in general, being in two different fields: hot— "it’s my last year too."

"that sounds cool, never met someone who study that," you say as you're pulling out 20$ for at least 3 grams of top-graded-weed: she's fucking stupid for selling that quality for less than $30 "well nice to meet you ellie, if i don't get poisoned with your weed, you'll be definitely hearing more from me."

and she wants to say something flirty, something with her usual witty charm and her sarcastic replies she loves by heart, but instead of saying something clever, ellie ends up stuttering, tripping in her own words as she nods.

"i- uh- yes sure. save my contact and text me anytime."

fuck it, cause it does get her to know you'll be talking to her again someday, maybe this week, maybe the next, tomorrow. her weed is hella good and her own brain is feeding her delusions cause as far as she knows you might as well be the biggest heterosexual girl in university, but you're there waving her goodbye with a warm smile and your perfume lingers in the air for a while even when you're not there.

so ellie stays in the cubicle for a minute. the longest minute of her life when she takes a deep breath at the scent, discovering the fruity notes, the damn strawberries sweet as ever now impregnated under her nose.

fucking cat cause she must have kept you all to herself, pure selfish reasons — ellie thought they were in good terms.

it's crazy to say she would've done the same if you were her friend too.

the second time ellie sells you weed you're talking with your friends seated in a secluded spot of the main quad and the sun hits your skin just in the correct way to make her mouth go dry.

you're using this straight sinful sundress in blue and white, covering from the fresh air in a denim jacket and it looks so good she needs to check you actually messaged her in the first place and didn't imagined the whole thing.

she politely greets everyone but her attention drifts back to you when ellie's sitting close like you're friends with her before the people you’re hanging out with.

"was it good?" she asks, blatantly checking you out you're resting over your elbows, letting the exposed parts of your body fill out with vitamin d after being trapped in class for what it seems an eternity, and ellie feels trapped too, slightly different cause she's experiencing the victorian era on the flesh when only a glimpse of your ankles is enough to kill her — "guess it was if you're texting to meet up again."

"yeah, seems like you got the best weed in the whole place" you laugh, each time warming up to her as you reply under a pair of black shades that make you look so fucking attractive: her weed, the best. "good job, ellie."

awfully good price. outstanding for you, only loses for her.

the third time, you're meeting her outside class and her friends joke calling you her girlfriend as ellie quickly walks away hoping you didn't hear them: do you talk to her about dinosaurs too, williams? you're too polite to say you find it cute.

by the fifth time you're on her car and the silence is so damn loud as the music sound softly in the speakers, some song you say you like as ellie turns up the volume so you can hear it better. you're humming to the tune, a two-minute song as she pretends to be searching for the weed on her bag, taking more time on purpose.

"are you going to take the same three grams or you feel generous this time?"

"no, just three" you reply to her question. you've become quite aware of her consistent gaze on you now after weeks of selling you grass, personally giving you the best, making the moment linger without you noticing until you actually do catch on her subtle tactics— "that way i can text sooner and see you again this week."

ellie’s clueless most of the days but with that? anyone would notice you're flirting, blatantly as you look up to her and your dealer struggles to resist the need on her hands to pin you against the passenger seat and lean all over the console to go on and kiss you until you clearly state what you want. no playing around the bushes this time. demand, as her stomach turns, what do you mean by that.

do you want to see her more? that's why you buy three grams and talk to her every three or four days? are you, by any chance, not straight?

“if you want to see me during the week, you might just ask” ellie says mirroring your tone “like you ask to buy weed from me, s’not that hard.”

you’re the one who's nervous now, and she considers on giving you the weed as a gift before you’re paying. loses, you only mean loses in her economy at this point — and it's driving her hella mad when you get out the car and ellie’s left there with the need to have you as closer as you possibly agree to.

silk fabric slipping through her fingers.

the sixth time, ellie decides she's going to do something about it. about her needs. there’s no actual way you’re not flirting with her, the image of you in the passenger seat still sealed freshly on her mind even if it was a week ago, repeating it over and over again — you got her staring at your profile pic, debating if she can or cannot masturbate with the pictures you’ve shared on instagram from spring break in fucking california, liking your post cause it’s the only way she dares to interact, a way of saying she’s there.

in the middle of a saturday night, thinking about you. two in the morning and it’s all fucking you.

she should make up her mind. you’re a good buyer, and she wishes to keep it that way. you don’t ask for later payments, you constantly buy and don't share her number with weirdo friends like everyone else does, you're a reliable source surely: so why does her heart stops in her chest cavity when her phone's buzzing and ellie's reading the name she saved your contact with?

right. her pathetic crush on you.

her fingers move on their own before she considers to delay her response five minutes to seem busy.

she wont charge you double.

shit. it's two in the morning and she's selling you weed driven by the desire to see you again, using this gray hoodie to protects herself from the cold autumn breeze as she's pulling up to this party totally uninvited, passing the open door like it's her own house as zeta phi seems to be fully loaded now as the music sound loud and strident as all her hopes of catching you alone goes to the trash can.

no she’s not going to charge you double, she’s just guilty she’s so into you without you having any idea of it.

where you waiting for her arrival? fuck. her brain is acting up like a backstabbing bitch and ellie cannot help it as you appear radiant under a sea of people. you're not saying a word either when you're lacing your fingers with her's and you're pulling on your dealer upstairs, feet moving on their own as she don't make a single effort to resist your magnet-like influence in her very self.

ellie’s hand are sweaty cause she's so fucking nervous but you don't seem to care about it, looking back at her from over your shoulder only to offer a smile she cannot wrap her head around for a moment.

"can i ask where you're taking me?" she questions you, hoping her voice doesn't sound like that really, so strained and rough from just see you around — "or am i your hostage now?"

"we need a more private space to buy" you state like it's obvious "duh, the rooftop's empty. i stole the key."

ellie should've know you were a walking hazard.

cause it really seems like an achievement when you're opening the rooftop door, mischief grin as you look twice behind your back paranoid as ever someone can see what you're doing; and ellie chuckles at the sudden adventure, how you're closing the door when you invite her to step in with a subtle head movement, quickly shoving the key back to the pocket in your skirt.

cute. she thinks you’re cute.

it's empty like you said, and the knowledge makes every hair on her arms stand on their own even when she's wearing this thick hoodie that protects her from the cold.

"cannot risk my dealer of getting in trouble down there" you explain now that you can talk to her at a decent volume, and she fully eats it even when it's a clear lie and you're making up excuses to get her away from the noise.

"very kind, gonna name you my knight in shinning armor if you keep this up."

you're panting the spot right next to you as you take a seat in the over-used lounge chair with a tiny wooden table in front of it, and like a trained animal, ellie follows cause it's the perfect spot to leave her backpack as her brain keeps buzzing at the name you used to call her seconds before— my dealer.

she is, by all means, your dealer. it makes her chest fill out with a different kind of emotion, sound so fucking intimate, so nice.

"gonna buy the usual three grams, princess?" your knee brushes against her, and ellie's breathing hitches cause you're wearing this black-sheer stockings all the way to your upper thigh and she becomes aware of it when the material slips down as you're seated, skirt raising slightly upwards against the muscles of your legs: one movement and she swears she'd be able to see your underwear and ellie has to once again, remind herself how you quickly reduce her to this behavior; this state, shoved in a sea of pure filth — "or did you just call me because you wanted to see me tonight?"

she's feeling lucky tonight even when she never feels that way, a strike of confidence ellie feels as a rush on the blood: you give her a sight of your legs and now she's all over the damn place? loser behavior.

"is it that obvious?" you want her to kiss you. it's a need that installs deep down in your chest, and if you're not making it obvious by then you're definitely doing it now: you're not straight, you're not bulletproof to the holes her eyes make on your skin every time you have the pleasure to be left alone in her company, you're not giving up on this constant game of seduction you like to play "i'm buying weed too, so coming up here actually matters for you."

"haven't we state that already?" ellie asks, looking up to you as she drinks in the sight of you under the almost invisible light of the stars up in the sky "if you want to see me during the week-"

"might as well just ask" you completed for her as ellie grabs her bag so she can pull your weed from it. the best three grams she has in her power "i know that- thank you."

"it's a gift" she finally dares to say it now — "don't pay me this time."

has she ever felt this way before? never. the overwhelming pull, the reminder you're not her's? stings on ellie's skin like tiny needles. it's not a big deal, once again she's losing money all reckless, but fuck- it's worth it, worth it when ellie see you malfunction for a long moment, brain short-circuiting cause you don't expect it.

"that's not the deal."

"i don't care what our deal is, you're my best client, and i take care of my clients” it’s simple as she says it “sides. the weed does not matter, seeing you was payment already.”

"don't go yet," you add before she's making a movement to get up, hands cold wrapping around her arm as you pull her down to the lounge chair you're so comfortably seated — "smoke with me. let's talk for a while."

and she knows it's dangerous, but you're batting your eyelashes, looking at her with this sly smirk on your face she wants to kiss away and ellie has no option but to stay there buried in your side, your fingers still tight against her arm muscles as you make her stay.

"okay, but i need you to let go of me baby- i can't roll a joint with you all over."

liar.

she just want to see you get all flustered because of her as her fingers swiftly roll a joint without much effort, allowing the smoke to fill the air seconds after before you’re sneezing and she notices how you shiver on her side, turning her face to look back at your pretty face she’s been avoiding to stare so much.

"you cold?" she asks, and you do not want to admit it, but ellie's taking her hoodie off and it's a fucking sight when she's wearing this white tank top she does not care about until she can physically feel the shift of the air between you and her, caught up with your eyes checking her out as she lights up the joint.

"thank you," and for being a stoner, it's smells surprisingly nice as you relish on the warmth of it, comfortable now as you watch her smoke "i'll gave it to you downstairs."

"go home with it. you're going to catch a cold like this."

the silence it's imminent for a moment before she's passing you the joint an you're holding it between your fingers.

"i like your tattoo" is it also an excuse? not really, but ellie's bringing her arm closer to you as she's showing it under the flashlight of her phone cause she likes it too, showoff — "can i touch it?"

any other time she'd be denying it mumbling something stupid about hating random people to go on and touch her scarred arm but you're not a random girl. so she's whispering a barely audibly yes, and your fingertips are tracing the pattern etched on her skin, taking your time in doing so.

"it suits you," you praise as you touch, and she's fucking melting there under simple caresses, under something so simple as your fingers tracing her inked flesh, invisible shapes as you just want to keep your hand on her "did it hurt too much when you got it done?"

"yeah, sort of" it's not really like she's trying to sound cool, in all honest, she's just trying to be coherent now as you keep touching her skin as you smoke. invested in questions she's answering in full auto-pilot.

you're high after a while, and it's her weed that makes you look like that. half lidded, a lazy smile on your lips as you keep talking to her, red eyes, slower than ever: shit. she'd devour you all.

“have you ever shotgunned smoke into someone’s mouth?” you ask curiously, and the question comes out of nowhere as you stare at her blowing the smoke, a warmth creeping upon her neck as she notices the way you’re staring at her, ellie’s blushing.

selling you weed and not be able to get high with you every single time must be named one of the most horrible crimes in humanity.

“when i was like, 17?" ellie replies thinking for a moment "i dunno, thought it was the hottest thing ever- have you?”

“no, not really."

and to be fair, ellie's high too. she's testing a new strain with you and the words roll out of her tongue so easily she has no time to regret it, not when you're looking at her like you want her to get handsy there in a damn lounge chair, to hell if it’s in the middle of nowhere or not.

“want me to do it for you?” she asks, a gentleman as usual “i’ll gladly be the first.”

it takes a moment for you to consider it before your voice is all low and husky — "mhm."

“come here then miss,” ellie says using a finger to call you out, the joint already on her lips before she takes a long drag — “sit on my lap and open your mouth f’me.”

it's devastating.

your weight on top of her, your ass in her leg as she can see again, those transparent sheer stockings that must be damn useless against the cold, and her hand rest on your upper thigh there where she looked before.

you're so obedient. your skirt is a sinful invitation to touch further, and you're parting her mouth for her so she can get closer, and as she smokes, ellie does get closeto you. closer than she’s ever been — more than the car, the bathroom in the party she met you, mere inches before she's shotgunning the smoke in your parted lips and you're smoking from the same weed that was in her lungs.

"17-years-old ellie was right" you reply, not really moving to give her space as ellie's fingers squeeze your leg like a reminder you're there still, sated on your dealer's lap, her hands on you — "it is the hottest thing ever."

it's almost a chronicle of a death foretold, cause ellie's kiss does not surprise you at the slightest. it's demanding and sloppy cause she's high, you're high, and she's a victim of this force she cannot escape near you.

so she keeps on kissing you until your lips are swollen and you're simply there, slowly wanting more, squeezing your legs together cause you don't want to be a slut now — no. you don't want her to know you're soaking over a few kisses, at ellie's fingers pulling on your high stockings down till they are no longer there anymore.

"you're a fucking menace" she says between kisses, breathing heavier now by the seconds: ellie already noticed— "a menace to me, to my weed and my economy, you know that? how you make me sell out my stuff at half the price cause i want you as my secured client?"

despite her words, she's pushing you closer to her so you can feel her rib cage pressed against you, the goosebumps you produce just from being close to her, red lips and messy hair.

"it’s your loss ellie, cause i'd pay for the full price."

"mmhm well shit, you're really lucky cause you do give damn good kisses" she murmurs, fingers toying with the hem of your skirt now and she has the damn audacity to keep on smoking cause she's now confident on her effect, how you’re all affected by her touch — "and if you give damn good kisses, i'm betting all my money that you have an even better pussy for me."

the sounds you're making? fuck. she’s creaming her panties already when you're letting her touch you so freely and it’s not near enough.

"what is it going to be then, huh?" she asks curiously, her mouth already following the path down to your collarbone, your cleavage before she’s taking her time in leaving red-purplish hickeys there hidden beneath her own gray hoodie "should we make it to our seventh selling or you're going to let me play with your needy cunt as a much deserved reward?"

shit. shit. shit. you're so fucking wet when you're parting your legs further apart to give her a nice view of your underwear, a damp spot already there between your legs who’s enough to make her mouth water with the thought of burying her face between your thighs, intoxicate with the smell you're emanating and she feels already under her nose.

good fucking girl. she wants to praise you, let you know you're doing a great job there letting your skirt roll up to your stomach, so easy to get rid of it ellie's sure you did it on purpose now so she can let her hand slip between your legs to feel how soaked you are.

your cunt makes this sound when her finger’s taunting you she just happens to love, and your underwear clings to your pussy lips, hips buckling up to meet her fingers already wanting more.

greedy.

"shh-" she tries to reassure you — "you're comfortable there baby? want you to feel good when i touch you yeah? you'll let me know anything cause you're my well-behaved girl, aren't you? my best client here.”

ellie’s making you shake her head, coaxing you to say out loud you are comfortable there, ass in her lap, spread legs as her fingers push against the fabric right against your entrance, noticing how the cotton soaks at the motion.

"look at you all desperate" she chuckles — "have you been thinking about this a lot like i do?"

her fingers pull on your underwear to the side and there it is: glistening cunt, swollen lips and neglected clit that's just begging to be touched, filled, discovered by her hands, her mouth, tongue. nothing she fucking wants more.

who she is to ever deny anything to you? to stop selling you weed? the joint falls to the ground now as she's using her entire hand to touch you, fingers rubbing against your minor and mayor labia, circling against your engorged clit as you arch your back and she has to use force to keep you still, taking what she has to give like a champ.

"you're fucking soaked-" there's a slap sound that fills the air, and even when there's people in the garden they don't seem to hear your whimpers as her hand comes in contact with your pussy and she's slapping it once again, just enough to apply some pressure in your clit, just enough to make your legs shake "so responsive to me, gonna let me stuff this cunt full tonight? fucking finally huh? you've been haunting me like no one else."

and you giggle, giggle cause you cannot fucking believe it: fucking your dealer? are you so for real right now? you're deep under a cloud of haze you're unable to control, disheveled state when your skirt is all the way to up and your underwear being pulled to the side at her mercy and you can only answer:

"yes- ngh yes please ellie."

"shit- your clit is all puffy baby, all needy for me."

you're squeezing her already so hard when she’s working on you. a wet schlick that fills the air and combined with your incoherent words of praise and moans will send her to the grave.

ellie’s knuckles-deep and fuuuck. you're so tight she needs to ask if you're doing right, cunt engulfing her' fingers until there’s no more and she's curling them right to the spot so you don't care about the drunk fucks in the garden anymore, about anyone who can hear whats going on in an empty rooftop.

ellie’s using a hand to keep your legs spread when your free will collapses like paper cards, pulling them apart only to add a third finger in your used hole and reduce you to pieces now, clenching tight as she rubs on that special spot inside and you're mumbling something about feeling so full, so good with her inside.

"this pussy must be made for me baby, fits me like a fucking glove," ellie’s doubling her efforts, her palm colliding against your clit, fingers thrusting against the right spot over and over — "gonna let me see your pretty face when you cum? i know you're close."

you are. fuck you so are. your movements are erratic, your legs shake, and ellie's kissing on your shoulder, leaving a path of wet kisses on the exposed skin on your neck, biting on your earlobe, anywhere she can get.

"i can't-" you cry out, moving yourself in quick, sharp movements, it’s overwhelming — "fuck i can't hold no more-"

"let go" she replies, holding you tightly against her body — "let go. i got you."

it's hot. messes up ellie's jeans with a damp mark on them, turning the fabric darker when you finally cum and you're gushing on her fingers, leaking through trembling legs.

"fuck yes. drench me like that," your dealer moans, stealing a kiss from your parted lips, keeping the last glimpses of air in your lungs for her benefit "use me, baby, don't stop."

ah. ellie's in trouble after all, cause it don't seem she’ll be selling weed to you now. not when she's mixing business with pleasure and she's making you bend against the top rail of the old lounge chair cause she's not able to wait any longer to lick you clean until you have no other choice but to cum again.

truth be told she once heard cupid's cruel, but she didn't believe it fully, not until now since ellie knows, first hand — the little fucker shoots to kill.

[mahalachives]

Part 3: Goodbye, Shadowsinger

🕊️ TW: This chapter contains mentions of suicidal ideation and an attempted act of suicide. Please read with care and prioritize your well-being.

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Genre: angst, romcom, humor, fish out of water reader, canon (ish)

Summary: Murdered after a late-night study session in the modern world, you awaken in Prythian—still yourself, but with Fae features and the infamous title of Beron’s cold-hearted and ruthless daughter.

Then, fate snaps the mating bond into place between you and the shadowsinger, Azriel—who rejects it so fiercely, even the magic recoils.

You died a healer. You woke up a villain. Now fate’s mated you to who wants nothing to do with either—you’ll prove them all wrong, one heartbeat at a time.

Between Two Fires - Masterlist

You woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed, as if the essence of autumn itself had infused your borrowed bones.

Sunlight streamed through amber-stained glass, painting warm patterns across the silk sheets that felt too soft, too decadent against your skin.

After two days of recovery from the arrow wound, your strength had fully returned—one benefit of this immortal body with its remarkable healing abilities.

A sharp knock on your door preceded Eris's entrance.

He swept in with predatory grace, amber eyes assessing you with that calculating precision that never softened. His auburn hair caught the morning light, gleaming like freshly minted copper.

"Ah, you're finally up," he remarked, leaning against the bedpost with deceptive casualness. "Good. I was beginning to think you might sleep through the century."

"Would that have been so terrible?" you asked with a small smile. "One less pyromaniac in the family to worry about."

A flicker of surprise crossed his features—so swift you might have imagined it. "Your brush with death has certainly improved your sense of humor. Though I'm not entirely convinced that's a good thing."

You sat up straighter, noting how he tracked the movement, ever watchful for weakness. "Are you here to check if I'm still alive or just to criticize my newfound optimism?"

"Both," he admitted with a small smirk. "And to inform you that I'm leaving for the Dawn Court within the hour. Diplomatic matters that Father insists can't wait."

"How thrilling for you," you replied. "A whole court of morning people. Your worst nightmare."

Eris actually chuckled, the sound rusty as if rarely used. "Indeed. Try not to burn down the castle while I'm gone. And please—" his expression grew serious, shadows haunting his eyes, "—don't do anything... reckless. Yesterday's incident with the Night Court has everyone on edge."

Your heart skipped. Eris gone. The perfect opportunity.

"I'll be on my absolute best behavior," you promised, unable to keep a grin from spreading across your face.

Eris's eyes narrowed slightly. "That expression doesn't inspire confidence."

"What expression?" You arranged your features into a mask of innocence that felt foreign on this face. "This is just my face."

"No, your face typically looks like you're contemplating which servant to set on fire next. This—" he gestured vaguely at your smile, "—is new and concerning."

You laughed, the sound startling both of you with its genuine mirth. "Go to your dawn gathering, brother. I promise the castle will still be standing when you return."

Eris studied you for another long moment, his amber eyes seeming to peer directly into your soul. Then he nodded once, a dismissive gesture belied by the faint concern lingering in his gaze. "Rest. Recover. Try to remember that you're the Lady of Autumn, not whatever you were babbling about during your fever."

"Of course," you agreed easily.

Too easily, apparently, because Eris's frown deepened.

"Goodbye, sister," he said finally. "Try not to cause an incident for at least a week."

After he left, you burst from the bed with boundless energy, startling poor Briar as she entered with your breakfast tray.

"My lady!" she gasped as several pastries tumbled to the floor, scattering flaky crumbs across the priceless carpet. "You shouldn't be up yet!"

"Nonsense!" you declared, spinning in a circle that sent your nightgown billowing around your legs. "I feel magnificent! Like I could fly! Or swim! Or—or—something equally improbable!"

Briar stared at you as if you'd grown a second head. "Swim? You once threatened to disembowel a gardener for suggesting we install a reflection pool."

"Did I?" You laughed. "Well, people change! Today, I want to embrace new experiences."

"While you're... recovering from a nearly fatal arrow wound?" Briar asked skeptically, nervously tucking a strand of copper-brown hair behind her ear.

"Exactly!" You clapped your hands together. "Nothing like almost dying to make you appreciate life's possibilities. Now, help me dress. Something practical."

Briar reluctantly assisted you into a simple outfit of fitted leathers and a flowing tunic in deep burgundy. As she worked, you couldn't stop grinning, planning your escape in your mind.

Eris was gone. The perfect time to execute your plan.

"My lady, you're..." Briar hesitated, her fingers stilling on the laces of your boots.

"Yes?" you prompted, twirling to face her.

"Humming," she finished, looking utterly bewildered. "And bouncing. Like a... like a..."

"Like a perfectly normal person enjoying a perfectly beautiful day?" you suggested brightly.

"Like someone who's either lost their mind or been replaced by an imposter," Briar muttered under her breath.

You winked at her. "Maybe both!"

Briar's eyes widened in alarm, and you laughed again, heading for the door. "I'm joking, Briar! Mostly. See you later! Or not. Who knows?"

You practically skipped through the castle corridors, drawing astonished stares from servants and guards alike.

The Lady of Autumn, known for her casual cruelty and perpetual sneer, bouncing through the halls with a smile that threatened to split her face in two.

By the time you reached the gardens, a small crowd of servants had found excuses to work nearby, stealing fascinated glances as you paced back and forth, muttering to yourself.

"I need to get home," you whispered, tapping your fingers against your thigh. "But how?"

You contemplated your options, oblivious to your growing audience.

"I could jump from the castle tower," you mused aloud, "but what if it just breaks every bone in this body without sending me back? Too risky."

A gardener nearly fell from his ladder, clutching a branch to stay upright.

"Poison?" you considered, shaking your head. "No, too slow. And knowing my luck, some healer would find an antidote before it worked."

Two maids exchanged alarmed glances.

"Fire?" You laughed softly. "Ironic, but too painful. Besides, someone would definitely notice if I set myself ablaze in the middle of the Autumn Court."

A guard coughed so violently that he had to remove his helmet.

"A blade?" You frowned, considering. "Quick, but messy. And I'd probably just end up wounded again with more hovering healers."

The head gardener was quietly ushering younger staff away from your vicinity.

"What I need," you declared to the rosebush in front of you, "is something guaranteed fatal but relatively peaceful. Something no one can interrupt."

Your eyes lit up suddenly.

"Water! Drowning!" The idea settled in your bones with perfect certainty. "Quick, effective, minimal pain... relatively speaking. And these fire-loving Fae would never think to look for me near water."

You spun around suddenly, catching at least seven servants pretending not to watch you. They all immediately became intensely interested in their tasks—polishing perfectly clean statues, pruning already immaculate hedges, and in one case, vigorously sweeping a patch of grass.

"You!" You pointed at a young female servant who had the misfortune of making eye contact. "Come here."

She approached cautiously, as one might approach a beautiful but notoriously bad-tempered wildcat. Her freckled face was pale with apprehension, hands twisting nervously in her apron. "Y-yes, my lady?"

"Is there a lake nearby? Preferably beyond Autumn Court borders, secluded, not frequently visited?"

The servant blinked rapidly. "A... lake, my lady?"

"Yes, a lake. Big hole in the ground filled with water?"

"Of course, my lady," she stammered. "There's the Azure Pool, about five miles beyond the western border. It's quite isolated. The water is said to have unusual properties—healing for some, visions for others."

Perfect. A magical lake. That had to increase your chances of successful inter-world transportation.

"Excellent!" you exclaimed, causing the servant to jump. "How would one get there?"

"Well..." the servant hesitated, clearly trying to determine if this was some sort of test. "You could winnow, my lady, or have one of the guards escort you—"

"Winnow!" you repeated excitedly. "Yes! Brilliant! How exactly does one do that?"

The servant's jaw dropped. "You... don't know how to winnow, my lady?"

"Of course I know," you scoffed, then leaned closer. "But explain it anyway. For clarity."

"It's... it's like folding space around yourself," the servant said slowly, still looking utterly confused. "You visualize where you want to go, gather your power, and sort of... push through reality?"

"Push through reality," you repeated thoughtfully. "Simple enough. Just visualize and... push."

"My lady, perhaps a guard escort would be—"

"Nonsense!" you declared. "I'm a High Fae of the Autumn Court! Winnowing is in my blood. Probably. How hard can it be?"

The servant's expression suggested she thought it could be very hard indeed, especially for someone who didn't even know the basics.

"Thank you for your assistance," you said, already turning away. "You've been most helpful."

"My lady," the servant called hesitantly, "may I ask why you need to find this lake?"

You turned back with a brilliant smile. "Swimming lessons!"

"But... you hate water," she said, then immediately looked like she regretted speaking.

"Do I?" you asked cheerfully. "Well, time for a change! Growth! Personal development! All that nonsense."

Behind you, several servants exchanged alarmed glances. One quietly made the sign to ward off madness.

"What a wonderful day to be alive," you announced to no one in particular. "For now, anyway!"

With that enigmatic statement, you strode purposefully toward the castle gates, leaving a wake of bewildered servants behind you. One elderly gardener crossed himself and muttered something about the end times.

Standing at the edge of the Autumn Court's formal boundaries, marked by a line of trees with leaves that burned perpetual gold, you gathered your courage.

Winnowing. How hard could it be, really?

You closed your eyes, picturing the Azure Pool as the servant had described it—clear blue-green water, isolated, beyond the western border. You gathered what you assumed was magic, feeling it rise within you like liquid fire coursing through your veins.

"Azure Pool," you whispered. "Take me to the Azure Pool. Please?"

Nothing happened.

You frowned, concentrating harder. "Azure Pool! Western border! Big magical lake! Come on!"

Still nothing.

"Fine," you muttered. "Be that way."

You tried a different approach, extending your awareness outward, feeling for the boundary between here and... somewhere else. There—a thin spot in reality, a place where the world seemed to fold in on itself. You pushed toward it with your mind, imagining yourself slipping through.

The world dissolved around you with a nauseating lurch.

Darkness engulfed you, a crushing pressure from all sides. For one terrifying moment, you were nowhere and everywhere, stretched impossibly thin across reality itself.

Then, with a jolt that knocked the air from your lungs, you rematerialized—tumbling forward onto soft grass. You lay there for a moment, gasping, the world spinning around you.

"That," you announced to the empty air, "was horrible. Zero out of ten. Would not recommend."

When your head finally stopped spinning, you pushed yourself up and looked around.

The Azure Pool lived up to its name.

Nestled in a clearing surrounded by ancient trees, the water glowed with an impossible blue-green luminescence that pulsed gently like a heartbeat. The surface was mirror-smooth, reflecting the cloud-dappled sky above. It seemed to call to you, welcoming you home.

Not this home. Your real home.

"Perfect," you whispered, approaching the edge.

No one in sight. No witnesses.

Just you and a magical lake that would hopefully send you back to your world.

You shrugged off your outer tunic, leaving only the fitted leathers underneath. Less to drag you down. The crisp autumn air raised goosebumps across your exposed skin, but you barely registered the chill. Your focus narrowed to the glowing water before you, its ethereal light casting strange patterns across your face.

Standing at the edge, you hesitated.

The mating bond, that golden thread connecting you to Azriel, pulled taut in your chest like a physical restraint. It seemed to know your intentions, throbbing with an almost sentient awareness that made your breath catch.

"Okay," you muttered, steeling yourself. "Just walk in, breathe in the water, and wake up in a hospital bed. Simple."

But was it simple? This world, for all its dangers and complications, had an undeniable beauty. Magic thrummed in the very air you breathed, in the trees that whispered secrets to the wind, in the blood that coursed through this borrowed body. A part of you recognized the wonder of it all, the chance to experience something humans only dreamed about.

The bond tugged sharply, as if in agreement, sending a lance of pain through your chest. Your hand flew up, pressing against your sternum.

"Stop it," you whispered to the invisible tether. "I don't belong here."

But did you? The mating bond wouldn't have formed unless there was... something.

Some connection, some compatibility between your soul and Azriel's. The thought was as terrifying as it was exhilarating.

You took one step toward the water—then froze as an image flashed in your mind. Hazel eyes flecked with gold. Shadows that reached for you despite their master's will.

Azriel.

The mating bond thrummed more intensely, responding to even the thought of him. You felt his rejection anew, the cold dismissal, the formality that cut deeper than open hostility could have. But beneath that, you'd glimpsed something else—a flicker of recognition when your tears fell, a moment of genuine pain in those beautiful, ancient eyes.

The bond demanded closure. Even if he hated you. Even if he'd rejected you in front of everyone. You couldn't just disappear without saying goodbye.

"Fine," you sighed, the sound heavy with resignation. "One quick, awkward goodbye to the shadowsinger who despises me, then back here for drowning. Great plan."

You closed your eyes again, but instead of visualizing a place, you focused on the golden thread of the mating bond. It pulled steadily northward, toward the Night Court, toward Azriel. You gathered your power again (more carefully this time, having learned from your first disastrous attempt) and let the bond guide you.

The world dissolved once more.

This time, the darkness felt less crushing, as if the bond was protecting you from the worst of the between-space.

You rematerialized with a softer landing, though still less than graceful. Your knees hit packed earth, and you pitched forward onto your hands. The ground beneath your palms was hard-packed and cold, the scent of pine and steel and male sweat filling your nostrils.

"Halt!" a deep voice commanded.

You looked up to find yourself surrounded by winged warriors, all with weapons drawn.

Illyrians, their massive battle-wings flared in threatening displays. The sound of those wings cutting through air raised the hair on your arms—a prehistoric, predatory sound that spoke to the most primitive parts of your brain. At their center stood Cassian, the commander you'd met during yesterday's disastrous dinner.

"Oh, hello again," you said brightly, pushing yourself up and dusting off your leathers. "Lovely day, isn't it? So sunny. Really brings out the threatening scowls on all your faces."

Cassian stared at you in disbelief. "You just winnowed to the edge of an Illyrian war-camp. Alone. Without warning or permission."

"Did I?" You glanced around. "Huh. I was aiming for 'wherever Azriel is.' The mating bond was supposed to guide me. Magical GPS and all that."

"Magical... what?" Cassian's brow furrowed.

"Never mind," you said, waving dismissively. "Is Azriel here? I need to speak with him."

Cassian's expression hardened. "He has no interest in speaking with you."

"I know," you sighed. "He hates me. But this is important."

"Important enough to risk starting another war?" Cassian asked coldly.

The bond tightened in your chest, a physical pain that radiated outward, stealing your breath. Your hand pressed against it instinctively, and something in your expression must have changed, because Cassian's eyes narrowed in recognition.

"I'm not here for war," you protested, your voice softening, all pretense falling away. "I just need to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?" Cassian's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Going somewhere?"

"Far, far away," you confirmed quietly. "Never to return. Which should make everyone happy, especially Azriel. So really, letting me see him is a win-win."

Cassian crossed his arms. "And I should trust you because...?"

"Please," you said softly, all bravado evaporating like morning mist. Your voice cracked on the word, betraying the desperation beneath your carefully constructed facade. "Five minutes. That's all I ask. Then I'll leave and never bother any of you again."

Your eyes, suddenly bright with unshed tears, met his. "I know I don't deserve it. I know what she—what I did to him was unforgivable. But I can't leave without saying goodbye. The bond won't let me."

You placed your hand over your heart, where the golden thread pulsed painfully with each heartbeat. "It hurts," you added, the simple admission costing you more than you cared to admit.

Something in your face—the naked vulnerability, perhaps, or the quiet desperation—made Cassian's expression soften fractionally. The scent of him shifted slightly, the aggressive edge giving way to cautious curiosity.

"You really are different," he said finally.

"So I've been told," you replied, trying for a smile that wobbled at the edges. "Is that a yes?"

Cassian sighed deeply, running a hand through his dark hair. "If you so much as flicker a flame in his direction, I'll drop you from a height that even High Fae can't survive. Clear?"

"Crystal," you agreed, relief flooding through you. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," Cassian grumbled, gesturing for the other Illyrians to stand down. "Az is going to kill me for this."

He led you through the camp, winged warriors stopping their training to stare as you passed. The ground was hard-packed beneath your boots, worn smooth by centuries of Illyrian feet.

The air was crisp and cold, carrying the metallic scent of weapons and the earthy musk of male sweat. Fires burned in stone pits, the smoke carrying scents of cooking meat and pine. Everything about this place was wild, primal—the same way the warriors themselves were, with their predatory grace and ancient eyes.

The mating bond pulled more insistently with each step, the golden thread glowing brighter in your mind's eye, leading you unerringly toward Azriel. It thrummed between your ribs, a vibrating tension that grew tighter, more urgent as you approached.

"So," you said nervously as you walked, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your tunic, "how's life in the Night Court? Pleasant? Regular happiness meetings?"

Cassian shot you a sideways glance. "Are you always this chatty now, or is it just nerves?"

"Definitely nerves," you admitted quietly. "I'm not exactly good at goodbyes."

Your voice caught on the word, and the bond spasmed painfully in response. You suppressed a wince, but Cassian's sharp eyes missed nothing.

"Where exactly are you going that necessitates dramatic border-crossing farewells?" Cassian asked carefully.

"Home," you said simply. "Where I belong."

"And where is that?" he pressed.

"Would you believe... another world entirely?" Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Cassian studied your face for a long moment. "Actually, after yesterday's display, I might." He frowned slightly. "Does Az know about this... plan of yours?"

"No," you admitted. "And I'd prefer to keep it that way."

"Hmm," was all Cassian said as you entered a large clearing.

The training field opened up before you, a vast area of packed earth surrounded by training equipment and weapons racks. Illyrian warriors moved through drills in small groups, their wings creating gusts of wind with each powerful stroke. The sound was like distant thunder, a rhythmic percussion that vibrated in your chest.

And there, at the far end, stood Azriel.

Even from this distance, the sight of him made your heart stutter painfully in your chest. The shadowsinger moved with lethal grace as he demonstrated a complex blade maneuver to a group of young warriors. Shadows danced around him like living extensions of his body, coiling and stretching in hypnotic patterns. His power was a tangible thing, a cold pressure against your skin that raised goosebumps along your arms.

Beside him stood a slender female with golden-brown hair. She wore a simple dress the color of spring leaves, and smiled up at Azriel as he spoke. There was an easy comfort between them, a gentle familiarity that made your chest ache strangely. The scent of wildflowers surrounded her even at this distance, delicate and sweet amidst the harsher smells of the camp.

"That's Elain," Cassian murmured, noticing your gaze. "Feyre's sister."

"They look... close," you managed, hating the hint of jealousy that colored your voice. The mating bond twisted sharply in protest, as if insulted by the mere suggestion of a connection between Azriel and another female.

"They are," Cassian confirmed bluntly. "Az has been half in love with her for years."

The bond twisted again, the pain so intense it nearly doubled you over. You bit your lip hard to keep from crying out, the taste of copper flooding your mouth. Which was ridiculous—you had no claim on Azriel, no right to feel possessive. You didn't even belong in this world.

Before Cassian could say anything else, Azriel's head snapped up.

His shadows stilled completely, then surged forward like a tide, stretching toward you before he reined them back with visible effort. His eyes—those beautiful hazel eyes with flecks of gold—locked with yours across the training field, and the mating bond between you hummed to life, pulling taut and vibrant.

The pain vanished instantly, replaced by an awareness so intense it made you gasp. Every sense heightened, every nerve ending suddenly, painfully alive. His scent reached you even across the distance—night-chilled stone and cedar and male musk. The world narrowed to him alone, everything else fading into insignificance.

"He knows I'm here," you murmured, suddenly feeling small and uncertain.

Azriel said something to the warriors, then to Elain, who glanced curiously in your direction. He began walking toward you with measured steps, his face a mask of careful neutrality. His wings were folded tightly against his back, but shadows swirled around him in agitated patterns, betraying the emotion he refused to show.

Your palms grew damp with nervous sweat. Your heart raced in your chest, partly from the bond's insistent pull, partly from the fear of facing him after everything that had happened. Your mouth went dry, and you swallowed convulsively, trying to prepare yourself for his rejection.

When he reached you, he stopped at a careful distance, shadows swirling restlessly around him. He inclined his head slightly—a gesture of formal acknowledgment, nothing more. The scent of him was stronger now, wrapping around you like an invisible embrace that his body refused to give.

"My Lady," he said, his deep voice coolly professional. "This is unexpected."

Up close, you could see faint scars on his face, subtle markers of a life lived in violence. His wings were even more impressive than you remembered, powerful spans of membranous darkness that shifted slightly as he moved.

And on his chest—visible above the neckline of his training clothes—the edge of a scar that must have come from the burning your body's previous inhabitant had inflicted. The sight of it made your stomach clench with guilt and shame, though logically you knew you weren't responsible.

"I came to say goodbye," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Your fingers twisted nervously in front of you, a gesture of vulnerability that felt utterly foreign to this body accustomed to displays of power.

For a fraction of a second, something flickered in his eyes—surprise, perhaps, or disbelief—before it was hidden again behind walls of ice. His shadows, however, betrayed him, reaching toward you before he pulled them back with visible effort. The temperature around you dropped several degrees, as if his shadows absorbed the very heat from the air.

"I see," he said neutrally. "Is there a reason the Lady of the Autumn Court felt it necessary to cross territories for such a purpose?"

The formal way he referred to you—not by name, but by title—stung worse than outright hostility might have. It was as if you were a stranger, a political entity rather than a person. The bond between you spasmed painfully, and you had to fight to keep your expression neutral.

"The mating bond," you explained, your voice trembling slightly as you forced yourself to meet his gaze. "I couldn't... I couldn't leave without seeing you one last time."

His shadows coiled tighter, writhing with what looked almost like agitation. Several of them formed sharp, jagged shapes before smoothing out again, as if reflecting some inner conflict he refused to acknowledge.

"The bond is irrelevant," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "As I made clear yesterday. Is there anything else?"

The dismissal was so complete, so utterly final, that tears welled in your eyes unbidden. You blinked rapidly, but it was too late—they spilled over, tracking silently down your cheeks. The salt of them burned against your cold skin, their warmth a stark contrast to the ice in his eyes.

Something flashed in Azriel's eyes—not the cold indifference from before, but something almost like pain. A muscle in his jaw ticked, and his hands curled into fists at his sides. His shadows reached for you again, stretching toward your tears as if to wipe them away before he harshly yanked them back.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, hastily wiping at your face. "I didn't mean to cry. I just... I wanted to apologize. For everything—"

"I have duties to attend to," he said abruptly, gesturing toward the training field where Elain waited, watching your interaction with open curiosity. "Cassian will escort you back to the border."

As if summoned by his name, Cassian stepped forward. "Time to go." he said.

You nodded, throat too tight for words. With one last look at Azriel—standing remote and unreachable despite being only feet away—you turned to follow Cassian.

You had taken only a few steps when Azriel's voice stopped you.

"Wait."

You glanced back, hope fluttering traitorously in your chest. The bond between you pulled painfully tight, as if trying to physically draw you back to him.

His face remained expressionless, but his shadows reached toward you, stretching across the distance between you. "May the Cauldron guide your path," he said formally, the traditional Fae farewell for travelers.

Not a declaration of feeling. Not even an acknowledgment of the bond. Just empty words, proper protocol. And yet... his eyes held yours a moment longer than necessary, something unreadable flickering in their hazel depths.

"Thank you," you whispered, a fresh tear slipping down your cheek. "Goodbye, Azriel."

This time, he didn't watch you leave. He turned and walked back to the training field without another glance, rejoining Elain as if the encounter had never happened. Only his shadows lingered, stretching toward you until distance finally severed the connection.

As soon as you were out of Azriel's sight, something inside you shattered. A sob tore from your throat, raw and unfiltered. Then another. And another, until you were gasping for breath, tears streaming unchecked down your face.

You stumbled, nearly falling as your legs threatened to give out beneath the weight of your grief. The mating bond ached like an open wound in your chest, every heartbeat sending fresh pain radiating through your body. It was a physical agony, as if someone had reached into your ribcage and was slowly, methodically shredding your heart.

"Whoa, whoa," Cassian said, catching your elbow to steady you. His hand was warm, solid, an anchor in the storm of your emotions. "Breathe, just breathe."

But you couldn't stop. The sobs came harder, your shoulders shaking with their force. You covered your face with your hands, but it did nothing to stem the flow of tears that slipped between your fingers and dripped onto the forest floor. Each breath was a struggle, catching painfully in your throat.

"I'm s-sorry," you choked out between sobs. "I can't—I can't stop."

Cassian looked utterly bewildered, his wings shifting uncomfortably behind him. The sound of them rustling was like agitated whispers. His expression was almost comical—the mighty Illyrian warrior, commander of the Night Court armies, completely undone by one sobbing female.

"It's... um... it's okay?" he tried, awkwardly patting your back. "Just... let it out?"

Your breath hitched as you tried to control yourself. "I'm sorry—this is so embarrassing—"

"Don't apologize," Cassian said gruffly. "The bond rejection... it's brutal. I've seen it before."

You wiped your eyes with your sleeve, which did absolutely nothing as fresh tears immediately took their place. Your chest heaving with each ragged breath, your entire body trembling. "It's not just that," you said, your voice breaking. "It's everything. This world, this body, this life that isn't mine. And now him—the one person who could have maybe..." You couldn't finish the thought as another sob overtook you.

Cassian sighed deeply, then did something unexpected. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket—surprisingly delicate for a battle-hardened warrior—and offered it to you.

"Here," he said. "Nesta makes me carry these. Says it's civilized."

The unexpected kindness only made you cry harder. You took the handkerchief with trembling fingers, trying and failing to dry your eyes. The delicate fabric was soft against your skin, smelling faintly of cedar and something distinctly female—Nesta's scent, you presumed.

"I'm getting tears all over your nice handkerchief," you said miserably.

To your surprise, Cassian chuckled. "I've had worse things on me. Much worse."

The mental image that conjured made you laugh through your tears—a wet, hiccuping sound that somehow made Cassian's shoulders relax. The scent of his relief was palpable, a subtle shift in his usual male musk.

"There we go," he said, relief evident in his voice. "Laughing and crying at the same time. Very efficient."

You hiccuped again, your breath coming in shuddering gasps as you tried to regain control. "I'm a m-mess."

"Yeah," Cassian agreed bluntly, but his eyes were kind. "But it's actually kind of... cute."

"Cute?" you repeated incredulously, knowing your face must be blotchy and swollen, your eyes red-rimmed. You could taste salt on your lips, feel the sticky tracks of tears drying on your cheeks.

"In a pathetic, helpless animal sort of way," he clarified with a grin. "Like a half-drowned kitten."

Despite everything, you found yourself laughing again—a watery, broken sound, but genuine. "You're terrible at comforting people."

"So I've been told," Cassian admitted cheerfully. "Repeatedly. By everyone I know."

You wiped your eyes again, breathing deeply to try to calm yourself. But the tears kept coming,

You wiped your eyes again, breathing deeply to try to calm yourself. But the tears kept coming, slower now but steady, as if your body was determined to purge every drop of grief it contained.

"Sorry," you murmured. "I can't seem to stop."

"It's the bond," Cassian explained, his voice softening. "When it's rejected... your body literally grieves."

"It hurts," you whispered, pressing a hand to your chest where the golden thread seemed to pulse with every beat of your breaking heart. The pain had a texture to it—jagged edges that tore at your insides with each breath, each heartbeat. "Like something's being torn out of me."

Cassian nodded, understanding in his eyes. "That's why most Fae don't reject the bond, even when they'd rather not accept it right away. The cost is... significant."

You hadn't realized Azriel would be feeling this too—this tearing, ripping sensation in his chest. The thought made fresh tears spill down your cheeks.

"Does he feel it too?" you asked, your voice small.

Cassian hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. Though he has centuries of practice hiding pain."

The two of you walked in silence for a while, your ragged breathing and occasional hiccuping sobs the only sounds. The forest around you deepened, tree limbs creating patterns of dappled shadow across the path. The scent of pine and earth surrounded you, grounding you in this moment, this world, even as you planned your escape from it.

You were vaguely aware of how absurd this must look—the Lady of Autumn Court, sobbing like a child while being escorted by the Night Court's general.

When you reached the border, marked by sentinel stones carved with runes, Cassian stopped. The stones hummed with ancient magic, the boundary between territories tangible as a change in pressure against your skin. The air itself felt different here—caught between autumn's golden warmth and night's cool embrace.

"This is as far as I go," he said. "Can you winnow back safely?"

"I'll manage," you assured him, though in truth you felt exhausted. The emotional toll of the encounter with Azriel had drained you as much as the winnowing itself. Your body felt hollow, wrung out, as if you'd run for miles.

You tried to hand back the handkerchief, now thoroughly soaked with tears.

"Keep it," Cassian said, grimacing slightly. "Consider it a souvenir of your visit to the Night Court."

"How thoughtful," you replied, managing a wobbly smile.

Cassian's expression grew serious. "Whatever you're planning... be careful."

"I will," you lied.

He studied your tear-stained face for a moment longer. "For what it's worth, I think he's making a mistake."

The unexpected words made your breath catch. "Why?"

"Because you're not who you were," Cassian said simply. "And bonds don't make mistakes. The Cauldron knows something he doesn't."

Fresh tears welled in your eyes. "Thank you, Cassian."

He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the emotion of the moment. "Don't mention it. Seriously, don't. I have a reputation to maintain."

With one final, awkward pat on your shoulder, Cassian turned and walked back toward the camp, his wings shifting restlessly against his back. The sound of them faded gradually, until only the whisper of the forest remained.

You stood at the border for a long moment, looking back at the Night Court territory—at the space where Azriel had stood, cold and remote and unreachable. The mating bond tugged painfully in your chest, urging you to return, to try again, to make him understand. Each pull was a physical sensation, like a hook embedded in your heart, drawing you back toward him.

But there was nothing more to say. He had made his feelings perfectly clear.

"Goodbye," you whispered one last time, though there was no one to hear it. The word tasted like ash on your tongue, final and irrevocable.

Then, gathering what remained of your strength, you focused on your destination—the Azure Pool.

The image was clearer now that you'd seen it, and the bond's pull had faded to a dull, persistent ache, making it easier to concentrate. You closed your eyes, visualizing the glowing water, the ancient trees, the isolation that would allow you to complete your journey home undisturbed.

You pushed through the fabric of reality, and the world dissolved around you once more. The darkness enveloped you, but this time it felt almost comforting, a temporary oblivion that numbed the pain in your chest. For one blissful moment, you were nowhere, nothing—just consciousness suspended between worlds.

Then, with a jolt that sent you to your knees, you rematerialized at the edge of the glowing pool.

You stumbled forward, the last of your strength draining away with the effort of winnowing. Fresh tears immediately welled, spilling down your already salt-stained cheeks. Your eyes burned, swollen and red-rimmed from crying. Your face felt hot and puffy, your breath still coming in those little hiccuping gasps that remained after a long bout of sobbing.

Looking down at your reflection in the still water, you barely recognized yourself. Your face was flushed and blotchy, eyes so puffy they appeared half their normal size, nose reddened, lips trembling with each unsteady breath.

The heartbreak was a physical pain now, radiating from your chest through your entire body.

Each breath hurt.

Each heartbeat sent fresh agony through the bond that stretched impossibly thin between you and Azriel. You pressed your hand to your sternum, as if you could somehow soothe the golden thread that seemed to be tearing itself apart inside you.

The water before you glowed with an ethereal blue-green light that pulsed like a heartbeat. It was uncannily alive, responding to your presence with subtle shifts in its luminescence. A gentle mist rose from its surface, carrying a scent that was both alien and strangely familiar—like the antiseptic of a hospital mixed with the mineral tang of magic.

"It's time," you whispered to yourself, your voice hoarse from crying. "Time to go home."

But even as you thought the words, doubt crept in.

You took a deep breath and stepped forward, the cool water lapping around your ankles. The sensation was strange—warmer than it should be, almost sentient in the way it curled around your skin. Another step, and it reached your knees, soaking through your leathers to caress your thighs with uncanny gentleness.

As you waded deeper, memories flashed through your mind—your childhood home, your first day of nursing school, the smell of antiseptic and sound of heart monitors.

Real memories, from your real life. The life you were returning to.

But other memories came too—Briar's surprised laughter, Eris's reluctant amusement, Cassian's awkward comfort. Connections formed in this strange world that somehow felt significant, as if they had always been a part of you, waiting to be discovered.

And Azriel.

His face when you cried—that brief moment when his mask had slipped, revealing something almost like pain. The way his shadows had reached for you, as if they recognized something in you that he refused to acknowledge. The flash of vulnerability in his eyes that contradicted every cold word from his lips.

The bond between you spasmed violently, as if sensing your intentions. The pain doubled you over, forcing a gasp from your lungs. It was fighting you, this golden thread, with everything it had.

"Please," you whispered, tears mingling with the glowing water. "Please just let me go."

The water reached your chest now, each breath slightly more difficult than the last. Just a few more steps, and you'd be fully submerged. One final breath, and then—home.

But was it that simple?

The pain in your chest suggested otherwise. The bond wasn't just stretching anymore—it was actively resisting, pulling back with a strength that surprised you. It didn't want to be severed. It was fighting for its survival, for your survival, with everything it had.

You closed your eyes, preparing for the plunge.

The memory of Azriel's face when you cried flashed in your mind—that brief moment when his mask had slipped, revealing something almost like pain. The way his shadows had reached for you when he thought you wouldn't notice. The flicker of recognition in his eyes when he admitted he knew you were different.

Strangely, that made it both harder and easier. Harder to leave what might have been. Easier to escape the pain of rejection.

"I'm sorry," you whispered to no one in particular. "But I have to go home."

With one final, deep breath, you plunged beneath the surface, letting the glowing waters close over your head.

The cold shocked your system, but you forced yourself to remain under, to release that precious breath and let the water in. The moment the water entered your mouth, time seemed to slow. You could feel each individual droplet as it passed your lips, slid down your throat, entered your lungs. It burned—not with the fire you expected, but with a cold so intense it might as well have been flame.

Pain blossomed in your chest, sharp and insistent, as your lungs fought against your mind's determination. Your body rebelled, instinct overriding intention as your limbs thrashed involuntarily. Your lungs spasmed, trying desperately to expel the foreign liquid. White spots danced across your vision as oxygen deprivation set in.

The mating bond flared to life with sudden, desperate intensity.

The golden thread burned like a live wire in your chest, pulsing with frantic energy. It was fighting harder now, clinging to your soul with everything it had.

Don't go, it seemed to whisper, though you knew it couldn't really speak. Stay. Belong. Live.

Darkness crept in from the edges of your vision, the glowing blue waters fading to gray, then black. Your body's struggles weakened, your limbs growing heavy, unresponsive. Your mind began to drift, consciousness slipping away like sand through fingers.

The last thing you felt was the mating bond, stretching painfully thin as consciousness slipped away. It was the final thread connecting you to that world, to that life, to him.

As it began to snap, one precious strand at a time, you felt an unexpected grief.

Not just for what was, but for what might have been.

Then nothing.

Author’s Note:

Thank you for diving headfirst into the angst ocean with me. I promise, there's a lifeboat coming... eventually. Until then: hold onto your feels, hydrate, and maybe scream into a pillow. You're doing amazing. 💔✨

Taglist: @circe143 @lunarxcity @willowpains @messageforthesmallestman @lreadsstuff @evye47 @lovely-susie @moonfawnx @tele86 @moonlitlavenders @darkbloodsly @ees-chaotic-brain @smol-grandpa

If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment down below ❤️

[x-ang3l-x]

- You sure your not a virgin? (E.W)

cw: mean!readerx loser!ellie, high school bully x ellie, degration, porn with some plot like really really mean, virginity mocking, enemies to lovers, hate sex, homophobia, d slur used,!NSFW, mdni.

A/N: This is based off a script from scriptbin which I also think is an audio on soundgasm- If I find them i'll add the links <3

reblogs appreciated

"I'm gonna go look around, I'll catch up with you." I slur before making my way out of the bar area and into the arcade. I walk into an overstimulating sea of lights and sound and geeks slouched over some consoles spending their wages on video games. I silently wished to myself we would had gone somewhere where I could've taken someone home tonight, but I don't think that's going to happen at the barcade.

I have a couple spare tokens in my back pocket, I fish them out and relecantly sigh as I find some random shitty game and stroll next to it. Theres a girl sitting on one of the stools. I couldn't really make out her face under the strobe lights, but I could make out a malnourished figure hunched over the arcade game, her nose buried in the screen. Auburn hair shagged just at her shoulders, glasses peering off the tip of her nose.

I strut up to her and wait a few moments for her to look at me. She doesn't. "Anyone sitting here?" I ask reluctantly

The girl does not turn her head, but responds. "Isn't it obvious?"

Okay, well fuck it. "I'm sitting here anyways. Whatcha gonna do about it?

"As long as you leave me alone, nothing."

God this bitch was blunt. For a moment she started to remind me of somebody I once knew but I brushed the feeling off before I continued. "So, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be going out to like, real bars?"

"Isn't this a real bar?"

I scoff. "This is barley a bar. You don't even have a drink."

"I'm not here to drink."

"You know what, I’m feeling charitable today, how about I buy you one?" For a brief moment the girls hand on the joystick faulters before continues her game.

"It's okay, don't waste your money."

"Yeah, come on, you pick. Whatever you want, baby I’ll get it." I seductivley say with a slight tilt of my head. The girl fails to conceal a small chuckle and softly bites her bottom lip when she does.

And I can't even lie, it was fucking cute.

But I still couldn't shake the feeling like I knew her from somewhere.

"Hey.. can you look at me really quick?" I ask. She pretends to not hear me. "C'mon, even I know you can pause that. Turn your head." I'm met with a bewildered expression plastered on a pretty face. Pink, pouted lips, huge glossy eyes staring at me from behind her glasses. "You look familiar." I mumble.

Wait, hold on a second.

"Nooo fucking way."

No way this girl didn't know who I was the second I started talking to her. This theory was solidified after she flushed beet red right after I said her name.

"Ellie Williams. Oooh My god, how have you been? You look- You look great, actually, seriously."

Ellie doesn't say anything, just silently staring at me with her mouth slightly agape. "What, can't take a compliment?"

"Didn't you like.. bully me? All of high school?"

Okay, yeah, that is how I knew her. I tormented this poor, friendless, loser every day for four years straight.

"Well..I mean, yeah, I did. But that's high school, literally no one cares about that!" I laugh. Well, except you, obviously."

Ellie scowls at me. "Whatever, see you haven't peaked since then."

"I'll actually have you know that I'm getting a promotion next week, so suck my dick."

"Promoted to what? Bosses least favorite?"

"Whatever, dyke." I cross my arms and give her a bit of an evil smile. "Least I’m not spending my Friday night playing fucking video games from the 80’s."

“70’s, actually”

"70's, actually!" I mock with a lisp.

Ellie just keeps glaring me down and spitting rebounds out. "I don't see you holding any high scores."

"Yeah, because I grew up, Williams. Let me guess, you spend every single Friday night here making sure no one takes away your precious fucking numbers on a screen."

"And what did you grow into, scoring bodies?"

What is wrong with this bitch? "Did you just call me a slut?" I dour.

Ellie stands up, seemingly prepared to walk away from the conversation. "Yeah, I did. Gonna do something about it?"

I also rise, meeting her height and overpowering her skinny frame. "Okay, you know what, fuck you and fuck this attitude that you have. I don’t need some fucking loser who hangs out at an arcade every night because she can’t help but have a little pity party because they were too fucking nerdy for anyone to like them telling me that they’re somehow better than me!"

Ellie doesn't walk away, she just lets out an offended grunt before eyeing me up and down. I decide that maybe it's time to have some fun with this. Just like back in high school. How I used to berade the girl every single second I could get to, and how i'd catch her holding back a smile as I did so.

"You know, I bet your sorry little ass that I could fuck this attitude right out of you."

Ellie's head whipped up, eyes meeting mine and holding a glimmer of hope. "W- what?" she stuttered.

"Aww, that got the little loser blushing." I say striding towards said blushing mess. "What, does this dumb little dyke get wet when some mean bitch tells her they could ruin her?" I lower my voice and place my lips next to her ear, barley grazing it as I spoke. "I bet you probably get off on that sort of shit, pervert."

I swear to god I could hear a moan in the back of Ellie's throat as I challenged her.

"Wanna put your money where your mouth is?" She whispered.

My breath hits her ear hot and hard."Fucking...Yeah. Yeah, I do think I can put my money where my mouth is. What, are you trying to get me to take you home with me?"

I'm only met with a shit eating grin spreading across her face.

"I'm gonna fuck that look off your face- let's go nerd."

___________________________

"I take it that you like my bedroom?" I ask as I lead the victim into my room. "Sorry that I don’t have a bunch of geek shit on the walls, I normally bring cool people over."

"To sleep with?" Ellie asks.

"Yeah, so?" I respond. "I’ve only slept with a few of them, so what? Least I’m not still a fucking virgin like you"

"I- I'm not a-" she starts, tripping over her own words.

I kick my shoes off and Ellie follows, watching my every move as though I was about to murder her. "Yeah fucking right, You don’t have to lie and tell me that you’ve slept with someone, I can tell you haven’t."

"How can you tell?"

"How can I tell? How can I tell?! I can tell by the way you’re shaking in your fucking shoes right now, bitch. Look at you. You don’t know whether to piss your pants or go blind." And I wasn't lying, the girl seriously was fucking pissing herself right now. Cute, but awfully pathetic. "It’s okay hun, everyone is nervous their first time! But it’s not like you’ll be doing any of the work."

Ellie lets out an awkward laugh."W- why?"

" I invited you over here because I’m gonna fuck that snarky, know it all, superiority complex right out of you....

... only if you really want me to."

"Do you want me to?" I ask, my hands softly feeling around her belt buckle. I get myself as close to her face as I can, inches away from shoving my tounge down her throat.

"Yes.." She softly whispered against my mouth, leaning in to kiss me before I pull back.

"You can be louder than that. I know you’ve got some big words in that head of yours, fucking use them."

"Pleaseee, please mommy please fuck me- fuck all this goddamn attitude right out of me- please."

My palm lightly slaps her cheek. "Good girl." I praise before kissing her, our lips interlocking and quickly moving into a deep passionate movement, our younger clashing against one another as she desperately maoans into my mouth. "This your first kiss, loser?" I ask as I pull away, latching myself onto her neck. "Oh, you like that, don't you?" And by the way she moans I can tell she does.

"You like when I kiss you neck... what about when I bite it?" I mumble before sinking my teeth into her flesh. She lets out a pornogroahic moan, head snapping up as she bites her lip to hold back another one. "God, listen to you... I could listen to you whine all day."

"Please..." Ellie groans against my skin.

"What was that?"

"Please touch me.."

"You want me to touch you...down here?" I say before lightly tracing my finger over her clothed slit. Ellie bucks her hips up in pleasure, trying to get more. "Keep still. I think I’d rather have you beg before I even think of laying a finger down there."

Ellie only reponds with incoherent phrases and moans as she tries to plead with me.

"My god, you are one desperate little loser, arent you? I'm not touching you until you beg for it like a little depraved loser."

"Please, please, I need you so fucking bad, my pussy needs you, I- I'm so wet- please.."

"That’s just not good enough, dyke. C’mon, you know I’m out of your league. And yet here I am being kind enough to stand in front of you. You should be on your fucking knees for me-" And in not even one second Ellie has immediately dropped to her knees and is softly pleading as she looks up at you with such sad, begging eyes.

"Woah, okay, taking that literally I see. Hm, I don’t know. I don’t think I should forgive you so easily, not with how much of a fucking brat you were being.

That being said, it is nice to see that you know your place. Begging me to touch you, It’s reallyyyy cute."

At this point Ellie looked like she was going to cream her pants, whimpering and panting like a fucking dog in heat. At any moment in looked like she would start humping the ground beneath me. "Your sooo pretty" is the only thing to come out of her mouth.

"God, you’re such a fucking loser. But you have such a pretty mouth, it would be a shame not to put it to good use.." I take a handful of her hair and pull it down so she could look at me better, admire me better.

"I'm gonna make you a deal, i'll let you eat me out." At this Ellies face radiated. "And if you do an especially good job, then maybe I'll touch you. If you don't- your not gonna fucking come. Okay?"

Ellie's head vigorously nodded up and down in acceptance, excitedly staring directly at my pants as I pull them down, revealing my glistening wet cunt to her. "You like my pussy? Quite the view isn’t it, nerd? You got me wet. Be proud of yourself.

And once I concluded with that scentence Ellie dived in, her tounge licking a stripe from my ass to my clit before stopping to softly suck on my bud.

"Oh- oh my fucking god.. fucking work that mouth whore.."

Her tounge lapped at me hurriedly, like it was her last meal. Like she was a woman starved. Maybe her malnourished figure was just a physical representation on how much pussy she was eating. Zero. Until now of course, until now where I have to tell her to slow down for a minute because she has no patience, just greedily slopping up my pussy juice like the stupid gay bitch she is. "Look at me, some fucking nerd is getting my fucking legs shaking. Guess anything really is possible, isn’t it?"

"Stupid fucking loser."

And with that I pulled her head off of my pussy, right before I could reach my climax. "Aww, look at that poor face. Did you want me to come all over your face? Poor girl." I fake pouted.

"Too bad, slut. But don’t worry. You did a good job, you get to make me cum while I fuck you. Oh, that made you smile, didn’t it?" Ellie shakes her head again without saying another word.

"Take your clothes off then, slut."

Ellie was sprawled out on the bed, pieces of baby hair clung to her sweat covered skin as she despratley moaned like the whore she was.

"Hollyyyy shit, your soo fucking right, brat." I breathed out as I shoved one finger and and out of her hole. "Look at you, squirming from just one finger. Your such a pervert."

Ellie can do nothing but agree, nodding her head and moaning. "More- please, I want more-"

"Hm? Touch you? You want me to touch you here baby?"

"You want me to just rest a finger on this pretty little pussy?"

"Wow, you’re eager. I guess you want me to touch it more?"

And with every single phrase you used meant to humilate her, Ellie simply build up her orgasm more and more. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.." she mewled.

"How does my hand feel, nerd? It feels good? It feels sooo good, I know." I can't help but laugh a bit maniacally as I thrust another finger inside her. "I wanna hear you say it."

"It.. feels.. so.. good..

.. so. good."

My fingers rapidly fuck into her cunt over and over again, making a mess drip down my hand. "What a pathetic little pervert.." with that comment Ellie's pussy sucks my fingers in so well, I can tell the phrase really got to her.

"Don’t pretend I didn’t feel this pussy twitch. You do love it when pretty girls are mean to you, don’t you?"

Don’t you?

"Yes-"

"God listen to that...You’re such a desperate loser. A desperate loser having the time of her fucking life. You’re sure you’re not a virgin, dyke?"

"Oh, god, that got you going didn’t it? Look at those hips move. You must really like it when some pretty girl makes you do whatever she wants. Is that what you want? To just do whatever pretty girls tell you to do and have them make fun of you? "

"What a stupid little dyke. I think that’s exactly what you want."

"Aren’t you glad you ran into me?"

"Fuck, me. You’re a loser, but my god are you one good girl."

And with that she snapped, coming completely undone as my fingers were completely drenched with her fluids, but I wasn't going to stop yet, I just couldn't.

"Maybe it’s not just any mean girl. Maybe it was me. Just me. You’ve probably wanted me to screw the brat out of you for such a long time. You’ve wanted me to fucking use you. To own you. Is that it baby? Is that what you want?"

Say it. I know you want to.

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

a/n wait i lowk rlly like this

[venuiscmind]

Please write some skin to skin with Ellie. I need a break from her strap!! 😮‍💨😪😫

I need rubbing pussies together and desperate fingering 😩!!!

<3

Skin. (Ellie Williams x reader smut) 18+

read this pls. and this too (info about the next strike.)

You and Ellie go out for a night on the town but things quickly get very heated.

W.C: 6.2K

Warnings: squirting (ellie squirts, i'll die on this hill), oral,semi public sex, tribbing, scissoring, fingering, multiple orgasms, getting called a good girl and a slut, spit play, tiny bit of anal, some sub dom dynamics (y'all are switches and like to change it up), small bit of exhibitionism, some degradation, praise, weed, smoking, alcohol.(please be responsible when you go out, do as I say not as I do.)

Genuinely think this is the nastiest fic I've ever written. I need to find god and touch grass.

Requests are open so keep giving me inspo cause it helps a lot.

Loved this request btw, I also got inspo from when I went out ooph.

</3.

You grinned at Ellie, looking at the girl exhale the carbon from your shared cigarette.  

"What." she inquired raising her eyebrows at you, her tone flat. She wasn't even looking at you, staring at a broad woman checking IDs of people queuing to get into the cities most favoured club. You didn't miss the furrow between them, a dead giveaway that she was not happy at that moment.  

You took the burning cigarette she held out for you. "Nothing." You smiled around the cigarette, taking a beat to look around at the streetlamps illuminating the dark pavements, letting you see the shutdown stores and closed cafes and restaurants, littered with girls strutting up and down them shivering much like you and Ellie were.

Smoke breaks were never warm but with Ellie's arm looped around you, and yours on her waist you didn't feel the cold as much.  

You loved your city at night. Filled with old streetlamps, the orange and yellow white light making you feel free and grounded at the same time. Especially with your auburn-haired girl in your arms.  

After weeks of rotting in the campus library you decided to go out, both of you dressing up for the occasion to make the most of the time you had with each other. Away from the textbooks and other students.  

"There's obviously something you'd like to say so c'mon, tell meeee." You whined at her, flicking ash off the cigarette before exhaling to the side.  

"All I'm saying is that bouncer didn't have to ask you to fuckin' smile to check your ID? The fuck was that even about." She mumbled looking off to the side at the bouncer who was doing her job checking the ID if some random girl trying to sneak in.  

You giggled and leant into Ellie's side more, putting the cigarette back between her lips, watching her inhale before holding it between her pointer finger and thumb. "Ignore her," you said, looping your now free hands around her waist, under her oversized leather jacket and dark flannel around her waist. "I'm here to get into your pants not hers." you said looking into her eyes accentuated by the smoked out black eyeliner you had given her, parting your glossed lips trying to soothe the girl's building anger.  

You took her jaw in your hand, angling it to face you before tilting it as if to ask if it was going to be an issue. She took the cigarette out of her mouth to take a breathe, never looking away.  

She looked down at your face for a moment before her full lips curved up. She brought the smoke back up to her lips inhaling deeply "You're trying to get into my pants baby?" You felt a bead of sweat drip right by your temple. You couldn't tear your eyes away from her green ones as she gripped you closer to her. Her lips were so close to yours that you could feel her breath on them, and she ran a hand down your face. 

"Maybe." 

She looked you over for a moment before giving you a peck and stepping away from you breaking the standstill moment. She gave you plenty of those, where all you could do was focus on her. The slight buzz the nicotine was giving you accentuating the feeling.  

"C'mon, before you freeze out her. Let's go back in." 

You nodded and she put threw the cigarette on the ground, stomping on it to put it out. She held out her hand to you, quickly flashing both yours and her ID to the bouncer who said a gruff "Go on." Maybe she had witnessed yours and Ellie's public display of affection and wasn't happy with it you thought.  

You hardly cared anymore. 

All you could feel was the excitement of feeling the bass in your boots as you shrugged off your coat, leaving you in your red leather, skirt and black top. Both of which hugged your curves, letting Ellie see all that you had.  

She did the same but took off her flannel too, leaving her in a black tank, jeans, docs brought out by a small chain and her rings. Fuck she looked good. Especially in the red, low lights of the club, with her smoked out eyeliner you had done for her before leaving the house. The black really brought out the green in her eyes, contrasting her pale freckled skin. You both stashed them behind some random couch of the room.  

"Drink?" You saw Ellie mouth at you, her voice drowned out by a thumping song which was begging you to dance. You nodded, watching her flag down a bartender to pour you shots of tequila. You did however sneak in your phone to tap against the card machine before she could.  

"My round!" You yelled into her ear, taking the shot from her smiling at her while raising the shot glass. She smiled and nodded, letting you pay for her this time. She always paid majority of the time, but you loved taking care of her too when you could. She raised her glass to clink against her before you both tilting your heads back to let the liquid go down your throats, burning slightly on the way. Ellie winced at the liquid while you grinned at her and said, "We have to dance!" 

Ellie laughed letting you pull her down onto the dancefloor packed with other bodies. She always said the shots went right your hips rather than your head, always begging her to dance with you after taking one. 

You slid right into the middle of it, taking her right under the lights. You hung your hands around her neck, placing your head right into the space between her neck and shoulder inhaling slightly. In turn she put her hands right on your hips. They burned into you as you both swayed to the beat of the song, slower one that you could slink against each other.  

You sighed into her. You really did love this girl, despite the occasional anger issue she had with anyone looking at you. In her eyes you were her pretty girl, and no one should be staring at you like that but her.  

The songs transitioned as the evening went on. You and Ellie had broken away from each other but were still tethered to each other by whenever your hands held onto each other, or you swayed together to the bass of the songs. You couldn't keep apart for very long, always wanting to touch the girl in front of you. You were both grinning, sweating and laughing under the red strobe lights as you danced together.  

Ellie was never a dancer but with you she tried, keeping pace but also wanting to watch you under the lights. You changed when you danced. Watching your hips roll in a way she could never outside of the bedroom or when you ran your hands up and down your body to tease her. Your instincts took over and you knew how to move. These were on of the few moments your body knew what to fully do.  

You loved dancing with Ellie because your body took over then too.  

You never broke apart for too long, letting her twirl you under the red hue or you'd rock your hips against hers. You held onto both her hands tightly as you stole a kiss from her. You melted, feeling your glossed lips push against hers and her hands slipped down from your hips to your ass covered by a leather skirt.  

You placed a hand on the middle if her chest as she deepened the kiss, slipping her tongue into your mouth but you pushed her back.  

She looked confused before grinning at what you had felt. She grabbed your hand pulling you in and whispering into your ear "smoke break?" to which you eagerly nodded.  

You both made your way deeper into the club, to find the smoking room. It was full of people who had either had enough of dancing or who had come to stand around here in the first place. You rubbed your ears as you could feel your eardrums re-adjusting to the lack of noise and easing into the chatter of the room.  

Ellie stroked your hand, keeping you grounded as you stumbled behind her. She led you to the outdoor area which had hardly anyone in there. A few people who you suspected had the same intentions as you, judging by the smell. 

You closed the door behind you, quickly joining your partner as she placed the joint she had rolled earlier and kept in her sport bra in case security patted her down and would confiscate from her in her lips. She cupped the end of it, sparking it with her silver reusable lighter patting the space next to her beckoning you to sit down so she could pass it to you.  

She blew the ash of the end of it before holding it for you to take. You hummed and slotted it between your manicured fingers before holding it up to your lips and inhaling the way you had been taught.  

"Still can't believe security didn't pat us down? Lucky fuckin' break ‘cause I didn't want my blunt going to that security guard." 

You giggled "Ellie, you have got to let that go." You brought the joint back up to inhale, the end if it lighting up as you breathed before passing it back to you.  

Now was smoking, drinking shots, and smoking a blunt the best idea? Maybe not. But you rarely went out and you figured why not? 

You felt so safe with Ellie. Her tolerance was far better than yours, and if anything should happen you felt right at home with her. You peered out past the railing keeping you near the building at all the twinkling lights. You felt Ellie come up behind you to sneak her hands around your waist. She placed her cheek on your shoulder grumbling.  

You laughed at her antics feeing her shake along with your laughter. You laughed even harder when you saw she was still holding out the blunt for you to take, it coming virtually out if nowhere but floating into your peripheral vision.  

Instead of taking it, you had Ellie keep holding onto it while you leant down and inhaled from it. Your lips brushed her long digits leaving a glittery, brownish pink, you shaped smudge on her fingers. 

She had straightened up at that point watching you, and you lifted your eyes to meet hers as you exhaled out the smoke.  

"Never." She said rubbing her thumb against your glossed lips.  

"That's a pretty colour, how come you've never worn this one?" 

"It's new baby, remember you bought it for me last week?" 

You kissed her hand, thanking her for her small, sweet gifts she always got you while out.  

Ellie couldn't stop her mind from drifting. Maybe it was the weed or the shots, but she wanted to feel your lips somewhere else. She wanted to see your lipstick and eyeliner smudged with from your actions.  

She coughed, clearing her throat and trying to keep herself grounded. She inhaled her last puff not wanting to overdo it and held it out to you in case you wanted more. 

You did the exact same thing, keeping your eyes trained on your girl, watching her breath hitch, her chain glinting in the moonlight as her breathing became uneasy.  

Distantly you wondered if people queuing outside the club could see you from down there, if people in their cars speeding down the streets could see you eye-fucking your girlfriend. You suspected the people in the apartments definitely could and the people in the smoking area absolutely cou- 

Well fuck.  

You definitely felt it.  

You giggled and looked down at the ground as you felt the high slowly creep up over your brain. It was a slow acting bud Ellie had gotten this week so it would take a while for the feeling to peak but you could feel your limbs become lighter and heavier at the same time.  

"You feelin' it pretty girl?" Ellie lifted your face to check on you. Your eyes had turned the tiniest shade of pink but were mostly still white. Your pupils had become a little big but not that noticeable unless someone were really looking for it.  

Ellie knew though, because she was feeling the exact same thing. You were both fucked, she thought laughing along with you. 

She felt you take her hands and hold them against your powdered cheeks and nuzzle into them.  

"C'mere." She said tugging you into her arms. You groaned into her chest. Your nose was practically shoved down her black sports bra. 

"You good down there pretty girl? Pretty sure motorboating is frowned upon in public spaces but I'm not gonna stop you." 

You laughed pushing her away from you and walking towards the door back into the club. "I need some water, you comin?" 

Ellie looked at you for a moment. Her eyes drifting up and down as she smushed the roach into the ashtray provided and joined you by your side walking into the club again. 

You pressed yourself up against the counter of the bar, slumping into it while you waited for a bartender to stop in front of you. Once you'd had them you walked over to where Ellie had sat down on the couch, near where you had hidden your jackets.  

You smiled down at her, gently handing her one of the glasses in your hands. You took a few sips looked her down, dark flannel, several buttons open, exposing her black sports bra underneath, and an expanse of pale freckled skin that you wanted to kiss right then and there. Her toned legs spread slightly open and although you knew you shouldn't, you sat down on one of them. 

She pulled you across her lap, fingers digging into your hips as you both set down your glasses of water. You both studied each other's faces, you held a hand to her face which she leant into while giving you a fulfilled look. You were sure you had the same one on your face.  

You were both pulled out of the moment by a song of both of yours playing on the dancefloor. You both grinned to each other as you got up and rushed back to the floor, dancing again. You both yelled out the lyrics, twirling each other and laughing together until the beat changed into something slower, something deeper more sensual.  

You moved closer to Ellie, dancing with you. She had your hands all over you and maybe the weed had made everything feel so much more intense, but you thought you could feel them everywhere. You turned around but kept close to her to you. You could feel her breath turn shaky, pressed up behind you as her breath came down on your shoulder. You swayed against her feeling her hands on your tummy keeping you close to her.  

You lowered your knees, keeping to the rhythm of the song to get closer to her centre and ran a hand through your hair in a way you knew would keep her eyes on you.  

You suddenly couldn't breathe when your ass came in contact with her crotch. She kissed your neck hard enough to bruise trying to keep herself grounded as she felt herself growing more and more warm and flush all over her body. 

You twirled back around, to take a look at your girlfriend which proved to be a massive mistake. The red lights had taken her, making her look more dangerous and devastatingly beautiful than ever. She looked at you, like she could take all of you then and there. 

You bit into your lip, before yelling into her ear "Bathroom?" 

Ellie nodded and tugged you, moving people gently out of the way so she could get you through them.  

She pushed open the heavy wooden door filled with multiple stalls in normal dim white light.  

You leant against the sink, taking yourself in for a moment. Skin flushed, eyes pink, hair dishevelled. Your eyes shifted as you laid them on Ellie, making eye contact with you.  

You turned taking her face into your hands. Full parted lips, parted to try to keep breathing even though she knew it was futile. She was always like this when it came to you. Always breathing her last breath, and never taking in enough oxygen because all that was on her mind was you. Freckles, flushed skin and green eyes that were focused on your lips. They had a pink hue to them, letting you know that she felt the high too.  

You leaned in to kiss her, pulling her jaw down to meet you in the middle. You groaned into the kiss, which had turned sloppy so quickly, or maybe you had taken your time with it but everything felt so fuzzy and warm you couldn't tell anymore. All you felt was the girl's lips gliding against yours, her tongue invading your mouth and all your senses. You moaned into her mouth, pressing yourself up against her to which she answered by letting her hands drifting under your skirt to your ass.  

"Fuck." Ellie groaned between kisses.  

"Are." Peck. "you." Peck. "trying to." Peck. "fucking kill me." Smooch. She turned your face to kiss every part of it causing you to giggle. 

"Maybe. But I just want to keep kissing you right now." You said brushing strands of her hair out of her face, which kept falling whenever she kissed you.  

Her hands were everywhere again but the touches more desperate than before. Under your shirt, under your skirt, squishing your cheeks to steal another kiss from you.  

You didn't exactly remember whose idea it was to move into a stall, but you do remember walking backwards against the door of one and Ellie following you in with a predatory gaze.  

She cornered you against the wall of the bathroom stall, kissing down your body murmuring pleas against the skin. You huffed out, letting your head fall back against the cool cement walls, as you felt her hot breath on your skin. You raked a hand through her short hair, stroking her cheeks as she pushed up your skirt to your tummy and pulled down your underwear, letting you step out of them before pocketing them.  

"I hope you plan on giving me those back later Els..." you whined out. 

"Wouldn't count on it." she said and finally ran a finger along your folds.  

You took a sharp inhale as you felt her moving your slick, running it along your clit before dropping them as far as your opening. You shivered, "Els?" you huffed out.  

She only responded with a soft "Hm?" appearing too busy with continuing your torment. "Please Els? Can you touch me properly?" You begged the girl, your knees buckling slightly as you tried to keep yourself upright while she touched you. 

Ellie held your thigh, keeping you upright as well as keeping your legs open that buckles and shut slightly every time she moved.  

"Dunno." She replied, casually as if nothing was wrong.  

You groaned, knowing what the girl wanted and you couldn't deny her anymore. Not like this anyways.  

"Keep 'em." 

"Sorry I'm gonna need you to say that again. Didn't catch that." 

"You can keep them Els, just fuckin' do something please." 

"Keep what baby?" She said looking up at you as she slipped her middle finger inside of you.  

You grabbed onto her shoulder to steady yourself as you felt her reaching inside of you, gently fucking into you, finding the spot that had you squirming away and simultaneously rolling your hips against her tattooed hand. 

"Keep the panties, El, they're yours just don' stop." You sighed out, head facing the ceiling as you breathed out your words. 

"Good girl." She rewarded your generosity by inching her face closer, to your pussy, and kissing your clit before latching her lips to suck gently on you. 

"Oh, fuck Ellie." You sobbed out trying to stay quiet, grabbing gently onto her head to try and get her impossibly closer to your sopping folds.  

The girl trailed her tongue down to your opening before shoving the muscle inside of you. At that point, you shut your eyes tightly, held your breath in an attempt to keep quiet and couldn't focus on anything except the feeling of Ellie inside of you, and her nose bumping against your clit. 

It wasn't long before you came, riding out your high with the girl tucked between your thighs and you practically humping her face, trying to get her tongue and face as deep inside you as possible.  

Ellie was trying to taste as much of you as she could, slurping and licking every bit of sensitive skin you exposed for her. When she spelled away you could see all the efforts of both your actions on her face, which was covered in slick, on her cheeks, lips, jaw and nose.  

There was still a string attaching you to her lips. 

"Oh." You said holding your hands up to your mouth, trying not to giggle. 

"What?" Ellie said, furrowing her brows at you, wiping at her chin as she looked at you. 

"What do you mean what? You have me all over your face Ellie." You said trying you help her clean herself off laughing softly.  

"What can I say I got lost in the sauce." She grinned. 

Your jaw dropped as you smacked her on her shoulder.  

She laughed, rubbing at her face getting most of if off but missing spots on her chin. 

"Here." You said taking her chin in your hands and kissing it off.  

She looked back at you with glazed pink eyes, before kissing you again. 

Fuck, you thought to yourself. This had been a bad idea. All you could think about was tasting her now. Your hands gently reached for the zipper if her pants as she took your wrist and said, "You don' have to if you don' want to you know?" She always got shy like this whenever you wanted to reciprocate.  

"I know but I really want to Els. Will you please let me?" You blinked at her with doe eyes you knew would always work. She looked as you nuzzled your cheeks near the zipper of her pants, face brushing against her clit as you whimpered against the fabric, wanting to touch her. She ran her hands against your lip and nodded after searching into your pink eyes.  

She stood up and let you unbuckle her belt, pull down her pants and boxes in one go. She was a mess, dripping onto her thighs, and all over her folds.  

You plunged your head between her thighs and licked, slurped and sucked. 

"Wanna fuck you again when we get home Ellie, can I?” You murmured against her clit. 

"Oh, fuck you're really feeling it aren't you? So fuckin' needy,” she said taking your jaw in her hands to stare into your reddish eyes. You had reached the peak of your and wanted more and more of her. As much as she could possibly give you that night. 

She lifted your face closer to hers and once she was beside your ear she said, "Open up for me." and she then proceeded to spit on your awaiting tongue, and you whimpered as you swallowed her.  

You felt your legs getting soaked again as you grinded against nothing.  

"That's my good girl" she sighed as you nuzzled your face against her thighs, nose brushing her pubic mound and clit. 

You went back to tasting her when she grabbed the back of your neck and pushed you against her folds. You moaned into her, feeling her slick seep onto your tongue as you suck on her lips, clit and slipped your tongue inside of her. 

She shivered at the sensation, looking down at you pushing into her thighs and entrance as she grabbed the back of your head pulling you in closer. "So fuckin' good. You love getting slutted out like this don't you baby hm?" 

All you could do was nod against her. You pulled back to speak and look up at her before going back in for more of her. "Uh-huh. Love you els, love you so much."  

"Love you too pretty girl-fuck." 

Ellie whimpered as she came on your lips and gently pushed you away once she came so as not to get too overstimulated too fast.  

She watched as you wiped your face off, licking off whatever was left off her on your hands on your tongue.  

She knelt down to press a messy kiss against your lips. "So fuckin' nasty for me baby." She kissed you over and over before murmuring "You wanna get out of here pretty girl? Promise I'll make you feel so good when we get home." She groaned into your neck.  

You nodded against her, letting her pull you onto your feet before dressing the both of you and making sure you looked presentable.  

"Ellie my underwear, you gotta give 'em back." You pleaded with her.  

She turned you around to look at your ass, pulled your skirt down and you squeaked at the sudden groping and quick smack she gave you.  

"Nah, don't think so. You'll be fine it's just a 10-minute walk back to the apartment. C'mon I'll keep an eye on you." She said ushering you out of the stall, as you both washed your hands and cleaned your faces properly in the mirror.  

You walked to collect, your jackets from the couch putting them on and walking back out to the street, Ellie keeping her hands on your waist. Unbeknownst to you, she looked back at the security guard who was watching you both strut down the street and smirked at her, watching as her mouth fell into a hard straight line.  

She grinned and kissed your hands, trying to keep them warm.  

Both your cheeks were pink from the cold, as you breathed into the air watching the air in your body turn to mist in the night sky as Ellie shoved the key to your shared apartment into the keyhole. You hopped around trying to stay warm till Ellie pulled you into the apartment. helped you take off your coat and pulled you in for a kiss.  

You gasped and whimpered as she pulled your hair into a tight makeshift ponytail and tugged, causing your mouth to pry open as you felt her gaze on you. You looked up at her as she said "You gonna be good for me, pretty girl?"  

You nodded, biting into your lip and humming an affirmative. She let go and smacked your ass telling you to "Get upstairs. I'll be with you in a minute." She said before pecking you on the cheek. 

You giggled and ran up the stairs, following the girls demands as she pulled off her jacket and sighed. She took out the pack of cigarettes and lit one quickly while she walked over to the tap and got two glasses of water for you and her to drink. She sat down on a kitchen chair with an ashtray next to her. She heard a thump upstairs and frowned. She wondered what you could be getting up to there.  

She took a last puff of it before she stubbed out her cigarette, took the two glasses of water in her hands and marched up the stairs to see what you were doing.  

She was met with you, sitting at the edge of the bed, looking up at her and naked. That thump she had heard was the sound of you dropping your boots on the floor as you stripped off and had thrown your clothes on the floor. She shook her head grinning and said "Here." handing over the glass of water to you. 

You took it and sipped from it before she took it back and placed it on the nightstand.  

She took off her rings too placing them on the wooden surface. 

She took your cheeks in hand, squeezing them together and kissed you. "You okay if I get a little rough with you?" she whispered in your ear, "Wanna make you feel it." She palmed your tits, groping and squeezing them making you whimper under her.  

You kissed her back and said, "It's what I wanted in the first place, please Els."  

She took this chance to push you back onto the bed and climb between the space of your legs, letting you hook them around her waist. She looked at you splayed out under her, tits bouncing from the push, hiding nothing from her. She slapped your tits, swatting one then the other, watching as you whined under her from the hit and groaned. Ellie leaned in to latch onto your nipples, sucking on them gently, rolling your nipples in your mouth with her tongue, and pulling on them with her teeth,  

You moaned at this, carding your hands through her hair pulling her closer to you, your legs tightening your grip on her waist, grinding your sensitive exposed pussy against her, wetting the front of her jeans as she humped your back. 

"What are you, a bunny or somethin' humping me like that? Fuckin' nasty slut." She groaned into your tits.  

You loved when she degraded you like this. Made you get so much wetter which you were sure she could feel too. 

She moved her hands down to your soaked entrance, rubbing around your juices before plunging her fingers into you again. You shrieked at this, arching your back against her as her middle and ring finger scissored in and out of you, letting you see her tattoo flex as she moved. You could feel your slick slip past your entrance dripping further down. 

She kissed down your stomach, slurping again at your clit, then your entrance then- 

Oh fuck. 

She kept moving further and further spreading your juices with her tongue and fingers down to your asshole. She pulled back, spitting on the entrance before continuing licking and tasting you, pushing your knees back as you moved trying to escape the sensations. 

"Mm, tastes so good all over, pretty girl." She hummed pulling back, before letting go and pulling back. She took off her flannel and jeans, leaving her in her black sports bra, silver chain and boxers. 

She thumbed at your clit watching you squirm again under her.  

"Wanna get on top pretty girl? Didn't you wanna fuck me? Make me feel good again when we get home?" She drawled, smiling at you under her. 

She gently slapped your cunt, prompting you to give her an answer when you sobbed at her "Yes, Ellie wanna fuck you please?" 

She stood up, pulling off her sports bra over her head, and slipping her soaked boxers, down her legs.  

She sighed lying down on the bed, watching as you clambered up on her body. You ran your hands down her body, watching her nipples stiffen from being exposed to the air, her abs rising and falling as she took in unsteady breaths, watching you take over.  

You hooked your leg over her hip, allowing you to straddle her. You took her chain under your finger tugging and pulling her up to meet her lips again. 

You felt powerful on top of her seeing her under you, waiting for what you were going to do.  

You shuffled upwards, deciding to plant yourself over her abs, sitting your wet pussy down onto it, moaning at the crevices and bumps as they brushed against your clit.  

"Fuck." You groaned out, your eyes fluttering shut as your head fell back and you could see the white of your ceiling.  

Ellie shuddered under you, feeling the wetness of you gather on her stomach, making the sloppiest mess she had ever seen from you. She loved watching you ride her like this. Something about seeing you take control of her like this, using her made her want to submit to your forever.  

She huffed out, "Please move down baby I can't take it." She really couldn't. She was soaked wet, exposed with no friction or anything to ease the heat building up between her legs.  

"Should've thought about that before you stole my underwear baby." 

"'m sorry, okay? I'll buy you a fuck ton of new pairs just please do something y/n 'm dying here." 

You looked at your girl under you, flushed and gasping, nails digging into your hips, and she clung on for dear life. 

You hummed before moving down and grinding against her pubic mound. Fuck, you were gonna get another noise complaint but fuck that because this felt too good to give up.  

Elle couldn't think or speak, feeling only white noise slip into her ears, as her eyes rolled into the back of her head, feeling you slip and slide against her pussy. She could feel the strands of slick from both of you, keeping each of you tethered to the other.  

She felt her soul leave her body as you kissed her, slipping your tongue in your mouth to silence the girl under you but that didn't work. So, you pulled away listening to her sob for a moment while you kept watching her moan out before slipping your pointer and middle finger into her mouth.  

"Gonna h-have to keep you -fuck- quiet somehow." You grinned at her, voice breaking from your moans. Ellie suckled on your fingers but ever the brat she was, she decided she wasn't going to take so easily. 

She slipped her hands behind you before sliding a finger inside of your asshole, making you lean back and almost fall off of the girl.  

You felt Ellie suckle harder on your fingers, keeping you somewhat grounded as you continued to bounce and slide on her clit. Soon you were both groaning out each other's names, creaming and cumming against each other.  

You watched Elle ride out her orgasm, nails making crescents on your hips which would last and bruise, letting you re-live this for days whenever you saw them. Her face was leaning back into the pillows, mouth hanging open as soft moans escaped it with her eyes squeezed shut. Her silver chain glinting in the soft light of your bedroom with each breathe she took. 

She rocked your hips back and forth pro-longing both your respective climaxes till you lifted off her, sitting on her thigh as you pressed your body against her, till you were close enough that she could feel your lashes against her face.  

She pried open her eyes, laughing at how close you were. 

"Can I help you? You're so fuckin’ close. Jesus. "  

You giggled, kissing her cheek. "Can you give me another?" 

Ellie raised her brows, at your question "Think so, what've you got in mi-" 

She was cut off as she felt you slide a finger into her.  

"Fuck me-oh my god!" She groaned as you picked a brutal pace to fuck into her, adding another digit, fingers hitting the spot that had been sensitive all night. She could feel a pressure building and thought about warning you about what was happening but couldn't get the words out.  

All she could do was take it and whimper and hold onto your hip and free hand.  

"Feeling good baby?" You murmured against her lip, echoing the words she had asked you earlier that evening when she had been tormenting you.  

She fucked herself back against your hands, groaning a series of "Yes-fuck- yes so good."  

You bent down to lick at her clit and moaned around her. "Can taste the both of us here Ellie, you taste so good with me like this." 

She felt herself clenching around your fingers at your words and the sensations, as a clear liquid came from her as you continued pumping into her, draining her of all that she had. Ellie had soaked, your fingers, bedsheets and herself as you had planned for her to.  

You pulled out of her gently, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, until she grabbed the back of your neck pulling you in for a proper kiss. 

You kissed her quickly before getting up and getting her a cloth to clean her with, before handing her an oversized shirt to sleep in. You repeated the process for yourself after handing her the glass of water she had procured for the both of you earlier. 

You helped her up to guide her to the sink to wash her face and brush her teeth and go to the bathroom. As you brushed together you thought about doing this with her forever, loving her, taking care of her, going out with her for the rest of your lives together. 

As you slid under the covers together, and pressed your foreheads against each other, you knew she had the same thought.  

"Love you, Ellie." You whispered to her squeezing her hand. 

She squeezed back before wrapping her arm around you, pulling you closer to her, as she whispered back, "Love you more, pretty girl." pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

[mainstreamangel]

STYLE

P. Bueckers x Fem!Reader

Summary: You had constant flings with Paige. When you two split up for college you never talked to her again. You visit a friend's basketball game and this gives Paige a second chance to walk back into your life.

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Warnings: 2025 UCONN team is still together and everyone is kinda the same age but younger?? Idk. + Nika, Reader attends Auburn University and majors in aerospace engineering, inaccurate aerospace engineering terms/related things.

WC: 3.0k

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Little did Paige know you knew a lot about basketball, she was the one who taught you everything you know. But to her, this girl was just another not-know it all friend whose interests settle elsewhere.

The team couldn't stop talking about you, of course they had just met you but your personality drew them in and they loved it.

All the things Nika had said about you, gave you a good reputation in their eyes.

"No way? She likes that?" KK smiled.

Nika nodded passing the ball to Kaitlyn.

"She must be really cool, sorry I missed her." Paige said practicing her throwing motion.

"You'll see her don't worry. She's coming to the game and I'll definitely drag her to meet you." Nika said.

"Where'd you even meet her? Like you only recently started talking about her, did you know her for a while?" Paige asked.

"Kind of? I mean we don't go too far back maybe a few months. Met her at a bar after our win against Auburn." Nika said.

She had started playing the husky version of horse with Kaitlyn.

"S." Kaitlyn said shaking her head.

"Nice try." Nika smirked, taking the ball from Kaitlyn.

You had checked out a bit of the campus but decided to see what was around, off campus wise. It wasn't home but you found a niche little French cafe and decided to get the Americanised version of their idea of "authentic French hot chocolate".

The weather was nice here in Connecticut. A slight breeze wafted through as you sat under an umbrella. The air was light, but not cold. You held your phone with one hand and scooped some whipped cream into your chocolate mixture.

You had your airpods in and Starboy by The Weeknd, travelled through your ears. You subtly moved your body a bit, feeling the music.

"What does she look like?" Paige asked.

"What's with all the questions?" Nika asked gathering her things.

She was going to meet you at that cafe to catch up after practice.

"Just curious since everyone seems to be talking about her." Paige shrugged, undoing her bun and letting her hair fly free.

"You could join us for hot chocolate, I'm sure she won't mind."

Paige thought about it.

"I told KK I'd help her with her work, sorry."

"That's too bad." Nika said, giving her final goodbyes.

"I'll catch you next time though, can't wait to meet this mystery girl of yours." Paige wiggled her brows.

"I don't like her like that P." Nika shakes her head.

"Yeah, yeah whatever."

"Hey sorry, practice went longer than I thought." Nika said, sitting down.

"No worries, just already finished my hot chocolate." You smiled.

"Man either you're a fast drinker or I took longer than I thought." Nika says, waving over a server.

"Just a hot chocolate please. Oh and a croissant." The server nodded, walking away.

"So how's Auburn?" Nika asked.

"It's fine. I guess. I dunno, it's just not all that exciting like being a basketball player I guess." You said.

"Working towards being an aerospace engineer is pretty exciting."

"Don't have to sugarcoat it."

"I'm not, you get to build like aircrafts and shit."

"I guess."

"My friends kept asking about you during practice." Nika smiled. "I guess you're pretty mysterious."

"I am NOT mysterious and you know that."

"Maybe you think so but one of my teammates in particular, you didn't meet her but when she came back after you left, she wouldn't stop talking about you."

"Oh, that's too bad. Maybe I'll meet her at the game."

"You definitely will, and I invited her to come and join us but she said she had to help a friend."

"Awe, that's alright. There's still time. Is she pretty at least?" You joked.

"I mean.. maybe? I'm not like attracted to her or anything, just a good friend. But i guess from a fan perspective, they seem to think she's pretty attractive."

"Must be popular among the ladies then." You laughed.

"I'm sure you would think she's attractive given your... type." Nika smirked.

"Now, what is that supposed to mean?"

"You know what it means."

You always had a thing for blondes, bonus points if it was a blonde with a slutty braid.

"Yeah Nika's friend is so cool, she likes a bunch of things I like." KK rambled.

"Damn, what is it with this team? I haven't even met her and you guys are setting the bar high for when I do meet her." Paige said, handing KK a piece of scratch paper.

"You'll see how cool she is, trust."

"Holding you to that."

"I need a break from this. It's frying my brain."

"It's been like 20 minutes."

"Yeah, 20 minutes too much. I'm going live."

"Why? You have no reason to."

"Why wouldn't I?"

Paige shook her head and smiled.

KK set her phone up and started the live, people instantly started flooding in and greeting the pair.

"We should totally go make a stop at Crumbl you guys are right." KK looks at Paige.

"I am not driving."

"Please?" KK begged.

"Fine, but after, we're locking in."

KK got up excitedly and waited for Paige to slip her shoes on.

You had finally arrived back at your hotel room and sighed, throwing your lanyard onto the table. You loved Nika, but you only had so energy. You took off your shoes and headed to the bathroom.

You looked into the large mirror before washing your face and taking care of your nightly routine. It was peaceful and quiet. So you decided to interrupt it by playing your music. You sang along softly, looking in the mirror at times just having your own little private show.

Your phone dinged and you put down your hair brush.

KK Arnold is live!

Funny, you never followed her so you're not sure why you got the notification. You go to delete the notification but for some reason, your phone registers it as a click so it makes you join the live.

"Shit." You go to leave but notice Paige in the frame.

"So this one is the chocolate cupcake cookie." Paige shows the camera the cookie.

Your breath hitches. You totally forgot she went to UCONN. You hadn't heard from her in a couple years and you thought you were done but it looks like you'll be talking to her again soon.

For KK's sake, you join the crowd drop a comment.

YOURUSER<3: that 1s good imo idk hope u like it tho

KK looked at the comments and paused.

"No shot, is it really Nika's friend?" KK asked.

Paige looked at the comments and saw your comment. Your username looked familiar but just assumed it was someone who had the same user as you.

Paige took a bite out of the cookie. It was sweet but it was good.

"It's fine, not anything special but I like it." She handed the cookie to KK who gave her opinion on it.

You left the live and decided to watch a little bit of The White Lotus. The hotel bed was comfortable but it wasn't as comfortable as your own bed.

"I don't think she's here anymore." Paige said.

"Probably not, but lets go home its getting late and we practice tomorrow."

Paige nodded and started to drive back to their place.

The next morning you woke up and decided to go and get something to eat for breakfast. There wasn't much that piqued your interest but you decided to head back to that cafe and got a breakfast bagel. It wasn't your first pick, but the area was too unfamiliar and you were starving.

Your phone pinged and you picked it up while you waited for someone to come serve you.

we have practice today wanna come watch

uh sure but if it gets boring ill prob js leave 4 a bit

ok see u in 30

same place

yah

"My friend is gonna come watch us practice."

"Sick, I can ask them if they joined our live yesterday." KK said.

"You went live?" Nika raised a brow.

"Yeah, made a stop at Crumbl."

"Fatty." Nika muttered jokingly.

Paige hit her shoulder lightly and tied her hair back into a slick bun.

"Can't wait to meet this mystery girl."

"She's nice."

"So I've heard."

The team went onto the court and started to stretch.

You walked in about a fourth of a way into their practice. Your hair was tied neatly into a ponytail with a little side braid, braided into the ponytail.

Nika noticed you and passed the ball to Ice so she could greet you.

"Hey, sorry I didn't come sooner. Was having breakfast."

"You're good."

Nika opens her arms and walks forward to hug you.

"Woah, wait how sweaty are you?" You ask, pushing her away slightly.

"Not that sweaty."

"Oh, alright." You say returning her hug.

Instantly you can feel the sensation of sticky skin on yours and you jerk away.

"You lied."

"Perchance."

You roll your eyes and look around, scanning the players. Then, your eyes land on some familiar ones.

"Oh." You muttered.

"What?" Nika asked looking where your gaze is.

Paige walks over and stops in front of you.

"Paige."

Fade into view.

Paige greets you with a tight look. Nika could feel the tension as you stared each other down. She looked between the two of you.

"You guys know each other?"

"Yeah, we were friends back in Minnesota. Practically grew up together."

"Wouldn't go that far." You sneered.

"Okay..." Nika said, carefully.

"What're you even doing here?" Paige asked.

"I'm visiting my good friend Nika."

Paige turned to Nika.

"This is who everyone was talking about? Her?"

Everyone had taken a break and watched what was unfolding.

"Yeah, not like I'm happy to see you either after you never called or texted that night."

"I wanted to forget about you."

"Clearly." You barked.

"Let's just relax guys.." Nika tried.

"You know if I did something wrong that night, you should've said something instead of running like a coward."

"You didn't do anything." Paige sighs.

"Then what? Just embarrassed you knew me?"

"No, just. Look, I cut contact because I was was scared if I admitted my feelings, we wouldn't be able to make it work."

"What do you mean?"

Paige hesitated. She hadn't had to face her feelings in years, she always thought if she left she wouldn't have to be confronted.

I guess it always comes back around to bite you in the ass.

Coach called everyone over and Paige exhaled in relief.

"Sorry gotta run." Nika gave you a sad smile.

"Yeah, talk to you later." You looked down.

Paige turned to leave with Nika.

"Wait, you're just going to leave me hanging?" You asked.

"Sorry, coach calls, I gotta answer." Paige says.

"Typical, always running from your problems." You scoffed.

Paige's jaw clenched. She bit her tongue and walked away. You shook your head and furrowed your brows.

It's been a while since I have even heard from you.

You were frustrated but decided to stay for Nika. A little old flame was not going to stop you from supporting your friends and her team.

"She shouldn't even be allowed to stay." Paige grumbles out of your earshot.

"Why? Just cause she's from Auburn doesn't give her any less of a right as my friend to stay. Plus she doesn't know anything about basketball it's fine." Nika dismissed.

"She knows a lot about basketball. I should know because I taught her everything I know."

"Yeah, uh what's up with you two anyways? You seriously looked like you wanted to kill each other." KK asks.

"We uh, hooked up a few times senior year, but we were friends for a bit since elementary."

"Oh so it's like that." Azzi mutters.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing just I don't think that girl deserved what you did to her, if I'm reading the situation correct."

Paige knew Azzi was right. She tried to forget you. She really did but it just came right back around.

"You should talk to her, she'll forgive you." Nika said, making it into the net.

"I will, after practice."

You stared at your phone, specifically at Paige's contact. You had blocked her after you realised that she wasn't going to talk to you anymore after that night. Occasionally you looked up at the girls practicing but kept most of your focus on your phone.

You hesitated but ultimately decided if she ever wanted to tell you what she was going to, she could reach you this way.

You pressed the unblock button and shut your phone off before quietly grabbing your things and heading out of the gym.

After practice Paige looked to where you sat but found nothing there.

"Hey did you guys see her leave?" Paige asked.

"Nope." Azzi shook her head before

"I saw her leave just a few minutes ago." Geno said, walking away.

"Fuck." Paige muttered, heading her way to the showers.

"I can text her. Try and get her back here." Nika said, pulling out her phone.

"It's fine, I'll text her on my own time."

"You still have her number? Even after you did what you did? Damn, you're desperate." Nika smirked.

"Whatever." Paige said.

You were sitting on the bed, chewing gum. You continued your marathon with The White Lotus until your phone buzzed.

we need 2 talk im ready to tell u what i was trying to tell u earlier

You took a minute debating on what to say and ultimately, you don't. You turn your phone off and try and focus on your show. Every so often you would look down at your phone like you were the one who left Paige on delivered.

Another notification came in.

hey girl, P texted me saying u werent answering her texts everything ok? lmk ily /p

You sighed and opened your messages.

yea just dont know what to say to her

she tried finding u after practice but u left before she could talk to u

sorry

dont apologise to me, i have nothing 2 do w it but maybe u should text her back :)

alr fine js cz u asked ly2

You closed Nika's chat and opened Paige's. You were about to text her but then a knock sounded at your door. You toss your phone down and get up before opening the door.

You open your mouth slightly before stumbling back.

"Hey, Nika said I could find you here."

"What do you want Paige?"

"You weren't answering my texts."

"Just didn't know what to say."

Paige pushes her way into your hotel room before turning to look at you. You close the door, hearing it click shut. You waited a bit before any of you talked.

I should just tell you to leave 'cause I know exactly where it leads.

"Listen, that night that you left I didn't say anything because if I did I would have to face the truth that I wouldn't be able to move on from you. From my feelings. I know that I hurt you and you don't have to talk to me or forgive me or anything, but I have to get this off my chest because if I don't it's just going to come back."

You gave her a look of surprise and didn't expect her to so easily unload her emotions.

"I liked you back then, when we were you know, hooking up. I liked you when you would making chores fun or made your mother's lectures funny. I liked you when you came to support my games and I liked you when you introduced yourself back in elementary. I liked you then and honestly when we stopped talking, I felt alone. I felt like I made the wrong call, which I did, and I just couldn't accept that maybe I could have another shot with you. I liked you then and I like you now. I couldn't stop thinking about you these past couple years, like it was some unfinished business that I had to take care of before I could be happy. There was always this nagging feeling in the back of my head telling me to tell you how I felt even if it meant ruining what we had."

You were speechless. You always liked Paige back then but you always thought that you were just never good enough to be with her.

"I got scared and I didn't want to face the look you would give me if I ever was truthful. But when you showed up today, I needed the closure. I wondered if I could just avoid it and just get the game over so when you went back to Auburn, I could forget about you. But how am I supposed to close the door when I still need the closure? So this is me trying to get that closure. This is me being brave and fuck is it hard. It's so hard for me to accept that even after these couple years I still am in love with you and I don't know how because well, I haven't even talked to you. Haven't seen you or heard about you from anyone, I just don't know."

"Paige I-"

"No I just have to finish this. Please. I need to let you know that I am in love with you and it doesn't matter if you are in love with me I just, I need to let go. I need to be free, free of my past and free of you. Not that you're holding me back, well kind of, but I just I need to let this burden go. My feelings I mean, not you. You could never be a burden." Paige rambled, breathing heavily.

"You're a fucking idiot. You couldn't have told me that about i dunno a billion years ago?"

"We weren't even alive that many years ago."

"It was a figure of speech you know that dumbass."

"Actually it was exaggeration."

"I fucking hate you." You say as you take a couple strides and plant your lips firmly on hers.

 But I watch us go 'round and 'round each time.

@niya500 / @lol-12n / @atditsitzjt

[ryunnggg]

Naughty - ITZY Yuna

9230 words

"Is it time for my detention, Mister Y/n?" cooed Yuna, strutting forward across the classroom and flaunting the Q heart on her cheek, an out in the open sign of her lust for white cock while she moved happily forward.

The door was locked and the hallways had finally emptied. It was likely only Yuna and Mister Y/n left in the school, give or take the janitor and some loose teachers sequestered away to feverishly grade. Nobody who could get in the way, letting the brunette sway and swish between the desks on her way toward the front of the class. "Time for me to learn how bad a girl I've been, and how much I need to be fixed?"

"It's only us here, 'Y/n' will be fine," said Mister Y/n. A substitute teacher from America working abroad to see Korea, about a decade older than Yuna. Handsome, decently muscular, very white, with a well kept beard and slicked back auburn hair. "It's just us."

"If I'm not calling you my teacher, maybe I should call you daddy instead," purred Yuna, rushing faster across the classroom to get to him. "Maybe you should pull out your huge, white cock and force this disobedient little Korean jailbait slut to get on her knees and choke on it. For detention! To teach me a lesson, Mister Y/n." Yuna leaned over her foreign teacher's desk, smile brightening as she wiggled enticing toward him, begging for his attention. "Don't you want to discipline me?"

Yuna was a danger. She was too powerful, coy and ruthless and fully able to weaponize her raw sexuality against Mister Y/n. Not that he minded, of course. "I think I need to hear some things out of your mouth to be worth disciplining," he told her, his hardening cock begging to slide into her mouth and ruin her.

"Oh? Like what, sir? Like saying I'm a filthy, needy Korean slut who can't keep from fantasizing about her American teacher's fat, white cock? That I'm a little bleachbitch who is going to find foreign men to fuck her throat whether it's you or not? Is that worth punishing me, Mister Y/n? Does the threat I'll go find other hung white studs to bleach my pussy and fuck some white babies into me make you angry enough to punish me?"

Yuna was unreal. Y/n had absolutely not come to Korea to teach solely so that he could date a Korean teenager, but he was absolutely unrepentant about doing so, rising up from his seat with his cock freed from his pants. A massive, throbbing, glorious, white cock that Yuna leaned immediately forward to begin to worship. No hesitation, just her mouth clung to the side of his shaft and slobbering all over it, praising it with kisses and hopeless obsession as she fell into the joy of what she needed most. Yuna understood what she was, what she wanted, and she didn't try to pull away from that, accepting and embracing her desires fully.

"I love white cock," she moaned, a little drunk on excitement from the very start. The burning desperation urged Yuna forward, licking all over her teacher's aching dick, already hard from her words and from just knowing what 'detention' after school entailed. The sloppy spectacle behind her love and her hunger was overbearing, direct, driven by an underlying desire to blow his mind and make him crave her on a level so fundamental that he'd never shake it off. Yuna knew her part and she knew how to wear him down for that, slobbering noisily on his dick, peppering it with kisses in a hazy show of wanton adoration. Her kisses ran along the length of his cock, messily praising his length. "This cock fits so deep in me. Only white men can hit girls in those places."

Y/n didn't try to contain himself, his head rolled back and his fingers running along the back of Yuna's head, trying not to take too much charge too quickly. He was absolutely unrepentant about these joys, about having this sweet girl doting on his cock and lavishing him with all the praise she could muster, so sloppy and loving and intense. Yes, she was closer to half his age than to his age. No, he didn't care. The burn of these spectacular lusts carried him deeper, kept him hungry for her touch and ready to feel her give him everything. "Should girls your age really be such bleached sluts?"

"Yes, of course!" gasped Yuna. "We should. We all should. If Korean teenage girls didn't bother with silly crushes on disappointing Korean boys and went right to serving white men, we'd be so much happier." She continued to flutter her kisses all over his cock, throwing in licks and sloppy adoration, both hands gripping his massive cock to continue tending to it and to continue delving in to the slow-burning surrender that this offered her. Yuna felt unstoppable, wanting only to push on harder, hotter, to let the sloppy lusts carry her into the deep end. "I'm so lucky that I have a big, strong, white man who fucked my jailbait pussy before I could give my virginity to any two-pump three-inch Asian boys."

Every word made Y/n's cock throb harder, drove him mad with desire. He wasn't exactly holding back or discouraging what Yuna was up to, but the weight of these wild pleasures definitely did to him things that felt maddening for how intense they were, how hotly the wants shuddered across him. He didn't try to fight it. He didn't resist her words or her touch. But the weight of just how intensely she delved into bleached talk and hard raceplay on a dime was always a bit staggering to him. Not that he didn't also encourage her along. "I saved you."

"My white savior," she moaned in turn, licking slowly up along the underside of his cock, toward his head, before she sucked it down deep, letting the lust carry her to the pleasure and the fever of senseless excitement now without restraint. The pleasure was just there to give in to, maddening in a spiral of devotion and lust to succumb to. The thick cock filled her mouth, made her jaw loosen to take him all in, but she was devoted and determined, forcing herself to sloppily revere this glorious white cock, to lose herself to what it demanded from her. Yuna was so ready to please, so hungry for white dick, and she wasn't able to pretend she could contain herself along her hunky, foreign boyfriend's length.

She pushed deep, hasty and sloppy, relentless in how she pushed onward to let loose the wicked satisfactions that she craved. The pleasure carried her to need this, to crave whatever she could get from the depths of these satisfactions now. It was pleasure she didn't feel able to process, struggling through these wants and through the need for warmth that this invited her to fall in to. Yuna felt unstoppable, every moan and push and slurp making her white stud feel better, want her more. She looked up into his eyes, saw the stares she received back, and everything he offered her made her burn brighter. Her desperation was unreal, and as she let him hit the back of her throat, Yuna remained committed and unstoppable.

"You're such a dirty slut. I need to keep you here in detention with me, so you don't go looking for strangers to bleach you instead." He grabbed the back of her head, finally taking some harder charge, forcing her deeper down his cock, easing into more of her throat.

Yuna was happy to choke him down, happy to give herself up to these sloppy, wild delights with less and less restraint with each passing second. She was unstoppable, ravenous, burning with unreasonable desperation and a need to let the pleasures carry her deeper. There was no resisting this, no fighting how nice it felt to give up fully. She needed to surrender to these lusts, giving in deeper to his touch, letting herself be the hazy, ditzy bleachslut she knew she was. Signaling with each motion of her head just how ready she was to serve him, Yuna let obsession consume her. It was easy to get into the right frame of mind to mindlessly be a slut for white cock. Especially Y/n's. The teacher before her was fully deserving of the most she could offer, prepared to submit in full, to accept how far down into lust she was ready to slide, unable to resist the allure and the chaos of surrender and desire now.

Throbbing harder in her mouth as she gave him what he wanted, Y/n tried his best to contain himself. "Such a dirty little whore. I see you in class, daydreaming about raising my kids, giving up on your idol life to be a white man's slutwife. You want it so badly, don’t you?"

"Gluk gluk," was all Yuna offered in response, continuing to slide down into the lust of his demanding touch, continuing to fall apart with less and less of a clear idea how to deal with her own ruin. Yuna didn't understand how she could have so easily crumbled to one cock like this, but it was all she cared about, the rightful plunge into beautifully demented surrender and a lust carrying her to need to give in. She was obsessed, devoted, bleached past the boundaries of reason, fully obsessed with her teacher's cock and with drooling all over it, fitting him into her mouth and bobbing along his shaft, letting her throat adore every inch of his shaft in impressive, relentless desire. Yuna felt unstoppable. Felt ready.

The bliss carried the moment into deeper, compromising fever, into pleasures that she was unable to resist or hold back. The pleasure just kept ripping across her thoughts, tearing with thunderous joy through her body, carrying Yuna to want to fall to pieces and to need whatever she could find in his touch now. The sucking did its work, tending to every inch of his cock, slathering it in spit, encouraging the wild, mad throbbing in her throat that told her that she was well on her way to tending to all of this. It was a beautiful feeling, a surrender to pleasure and desire she didn't try to hold back now. The pleasure felt outrageous, but she knew that as good as she felt sucking him off, Y/n felt at least as good getting this relentless deepthroat adoration.

Probably, right? Y/n had to enjoy having his cock sucked as much as Yuna enjoyed sucking it, at minimum. Y/n himself wasn't even so sure of that.

But the continued reverence and sloppiness and spectacle behind Yuna's deepthroat worship kept up a pace as reckless as could be, and Y/n didn't know if he could contain all of it.

Hotter groans carried him deeper in to these wicked pleasures, the need to continue to surrender to, all driven by the want that made him want to fall to pieces. "I'm gonna cum," he warned.

Yuna was happy to jerk back, smiling bright and welcoming his load. "All over me, daddy," she whined, jerking his cock off with both hands, moaning in sloppy reverence, serving his needs deep. "I want to wear white cum all over my face, like a good bleached whore," she moaned. She continued to tend to him, jerking him off faster, harder, throwing herself in to these wild pleasures. She didn't hold anything back, every stroke reckless, forceful, direct,

until he came all over her face. Hot ropes of gooey spunk splattered across her bright features, with Yuna moaning through all of it, her eyes shut to receive his massive load. Y/n always came hard, always made a gooey mess of her, splattering across her face with unbelievable desire.

With spunk dripping from her face and a shaky warmth washing over her body, Yuna needed only to surrender deeper. She licked some cum off of her lips and grabbed at his body, not satisfied yet. She wanted more.

"Can you take me home tonight?" she asked. "To keep an eye on me. Make sure I don't do anything. Maybe..." She leaned forward to plant more kisses onto his cock head again. "Maybe fuck a white baby into me. Please, Mister Y/n. I'll do anything. I'll eat your ass like a good Korean girl and make you so happy that you have to take me back with you."

An offer like that wasn't one any man could have been strong enough to fight. Turning quickly around, Y/n pushed his hips back and got a knee up onto his desk, leaning forward to show off his ass, his dangling balls, and his spit-shined cock to his teenage whore. "Do it," he told her. "From the moment I showed you my cock and you fell to your knees instead of calling the cops, I knew you were something special. Prove how special you are."

Yuna didn't need to be told twice. Shoving forward, she buried her face right into her favorite treat: white man ass. Grabbing his cock to stroke it and milk a load out of him, she got to work at licking against his rim slithering with her sloppy love across his ass, letting the wild desire carry her to want more and more of this. There was no restraint to hold her back from the sheer depth of her lusts now, carrying her to just have to give in to these lusts, to surrender to what she knew was the absolute only way forward.

Her tongue slithered around in broad strokes tending to the ass with hopeless obsession. This wasn't the most dignified way forward, but she needed it, moaning loudly through her feasting delight, committed to being consumed utterly by need and sloppy desire. Lust carried her to want to fall to pieces, to need to surrender to lust. Yuna loved eating white ass, and she threw herself into it with the gusto that such a glorious thing deserved. She rubbed her face in his ass, moaning, slobbering, letting her cock drunk lust carry her in serving him 'properly'.

"Such a good little ass eater," he groaned, reaching back to grab her head and pull her in. Yuna loved praise, and the more he gave her, the better she performed. It was a clumsy balancing act, something carrying him to want more and more of these lusts. There was no escape for Yuna, but she didn’t want any escape. She wanted to keep pushing, keep slobbering, keep revering this white man and giving him everything she could. The burn of these desires were too steep not to.

"I love slobbering all over my white man's ass hole," she moaned, sounding territorial and greedy while licking down to begin slurping on his heavy nuts, too. She was happy to pepper kisses all over his taint on the way down, reckless, ravenous, driven by a desire only to keep serving and slobbering. The pleasure continued to do to her things she didn't care about resisting, the unrestrained joy and greed to fall in to. There was only pleasure to give in to here, drunk on the sweet surrender and the delirium of needing more. The continued surrender to give in to offered to Yuna what she needed most. She sucked one of his balls into

her mouth and left his sac slathered in spit too, insisting herself into the moment as hard as she could. "Keep going. Keep telling me how good I am at serving white men."

"How about the fact I haven't fucked any of your classmates, because you're such a perfect bleached whore that I haven't needed to look for another girl?" He ground back against her face, savouring the ways she made him feel as she licked back up his taint to make out with his ass hole again. There was no restraint for Yuna, no moment where she could hold back or imagine controlling herself, letting the burning hunger carry her to a further depth of ruin and desire now. She needed to keep slobbering and serving, tending to his ass harder. His words made her lose her mind, the 'kind' praise of something that urged her harder forward, kept her desperate to make him feel all the things she hoped might help her fall to pieces now. The greed carried her to a lot of weirder places, to a satisfaction and a hunger she couldn't do anything about.

The sloppy lust carried her to need more of him, slurping on his ass hole while she jerked his cock harder and quicker. Switches down to lick his balls kept things fresh, surprising him with the messy fever of what she was at, delving on these pleasures and keeping up with something meant to make him burn with need. Yuna felt clingy, needy, burning with a desperate desire to make him feel good centered around the worry that if she didn't, he'd go find some other girl to bleach, and she could not let that happen. A little jealous, a little territorial, keeping up her passion. "Korean tongue feels best against white ass holes, doesn't it, sir?" she moaned.

"The best, especially yours." Gripping the table and keeping steady so she could work at his touch, Y/n was lost to these pleasures, struggling to hold himself together as she jerked him off faster and harder, both hands mercilessly working to tend to him while he fell in deeper. She was a complete wreck, but the pleasures continued on with burning excitement. Yuna was happy to not rat him out and to not bring him any trouble for exposing himself in front of one of his students, keeping her as his girlfriend. Yuna was desperate for it, ready to please him and ready to give him everything he desired. She was happy to keep him giving in, happy to tend to his every desire and to lick his ass hole like a good slut.

There was simply no way that Y/n could have let a girl like her go. Shuddering through these hopeless pleasures, allowing passion to be his undoing, he gave in deeper, messier, unable to resist the pleasures that continued to ruin him in the name of losing himself. "You're so fucking good. Keep going, Yuna. You're the best. You're going to--oh, fuck, you're the perfect Korean girl."

That made her moan like she was cumming, just from the pride and the glee alone, throwing into a beautifully deranged burn of passion, the pleasure carrying her to fall apart utterly under his touch, giving in to the pleasure in full, accepting it as all she could do, the unrelenting joy of crumbling to pieces for him. For a white man. For her white man. She jerked him off faster and she relentlessly tonguefucked his ass in pursuit of more of that praise and of the chance to make him erupt all over her again.

With a sudden groan and a twist around, Y/n smacked Yuna across the face with his cock in trying to turn himself around as quickly as he could. The impact didn't shock her too much, and Yuna did her best to take it, moaning appreciatively and allowing his cock to blast across

her face with another messy load. More cum that splattered onto her beaming smile, keeping her overjoyed to be giving up to all of this. She took the facial in pride, loving the feeling of his cum all over her face, the dripping mess she received and the joy that she found in so wholly lost to this. Yuna savoured everything about this mess, jerking his cock off and making sure she wrung out every drop before drawing back with a gasp of pure delight.

"I can go home with my white daddy now, right?" Yuna asked, dragging cum off her cheek with her fingers and licking it off. "I've been a good girl and earned it?"

Y/n stared at Yuna with cum dripping down her face, knowing full well that there was only one answer to that question.

******************************

Down on her knees in the car, there wasn't much for Yuna to do but suck his balls. Hidden under the steering wheel while he drove home, she hadn't actually wiped anything off of her face, leaving all the clear mess of her lustful, slutty surrender right there on the spot. It just made her feel better that way, slapping herself with his huge cock while she sucked on his balls, slurping noisily on them and giving them some devoted love, having rimmed his ass hole and deepthroated his cock already otherwise. The insistence and the raw desire behind this was all so simple, so direct, built on Yuna's hopeless hunger and just how badly she craved white cock.

"Fuck, you make it hard to focus," groaned Y/n, trying his best just to drive and not go off the road even with the gorgeous idol slurping his nuts. It was an amazing burn of pleasure, the heat to keep giving in to, pleasure enticing him to want more and more of this. There was a pleasure to this to keep giving in to. It was pleasure direct and messy and enticing him to just need to sink in to this. All of it. Dragged into the weirder pleasure to continue falling in to left Yuna needing to give up to this. She shook under the wild pleasure to give in to hotter, the satisfaction to want more and more of. "Such a perfect slut. You were born to be bleached."

"All Asian women are," moaned Yuna, slapping his cock across her face, keeping up the pleasure and keeping up the huger and the fever of wanting to give in hotter, needing more of these pleasures that continued to plunge her into this, deeper and sloppier fever that continued to sentence her to this demise. She didn't try to contain herself now, keeping up this pace and keeping the pleasure burning across her. Messier fever and fire continued its desires, and she let the passion carry her deeper in to all of this, a hungrier fever and a passion she just wanted to embrace in full. The unquenchable desire continued to do to Yuna things she couldn't resist, giving in to all this lust and falling to pieces under what it demanded from her now. She needed it, and nothing could hold back her cravings.

The taste of his balls drove her wild. Yuna didn't care if she came off like a sloppy addict. She didn't want to be anything less, didn't want to even pretend she had a capacity now for restraint. There was only the satisfaction of giving in to this, craving whatever he could do to her and accepting how ready she was to just give up to it. Everything inside of Yuna craved this singularly obsessive burn, a moment of devotion and fire she didn't try to resist.

Everything she did was direct, sloppy, burning up within her as she pushed against it now. Sucking on these heavy, white balls let Yuna focus on how full they were, how ready to blow

they surely were. On the idea that what she really needed was to give in fully to these sloppy spectacles. It was everything to her now, a dead end rush of lust burning her up from within.

It was only ball worship, but it was also reverence of a white man's ability to breed girls like her. Even after blowing two loads all over her face, Y/n’s nuts felt so heavy, so ready to blast rope deep into her womb. White men were so fertile and indomitable, and she praised his nuts, knowing they were the key to blowing her mind and making her feel all the sloppy, wild emotions that she craved so badly. Yuna didn't care about restraint, needing to push forward, needing to accept the surrender inviting her to fall to pieces. It was just too good not to, the sweeping desire and delight of letting this plunge carry her into depths from which she was never going to escape. That was good. That was how she wanted it. With every sloppy push forward, Yuna focused herself on tending to his balls, on slapping herself with his cock. Just out of view, she tended to her teacher's cock, ready and sloppy and surrendering everything to these pleasures now.

This was impossible for Y/n to focus through, but he was so happy to let the pleasures carry him on deeper in to this mess of ruin and hunger. The pleasure remained so insistent, driven by the sloppiest of passions, by desires to keep riding out. The pleasure kept him hungry and reckless, driven by the sloppiest of passions, needing only to seek out how good it could feel to let everything go. There was only pleasure to this mess, the pursuit of ever-sloppier, ever- filthier lust. There wasn't a shred of restraint behind her devoted, throbbing passions now. He was such a lucky fuck, and he didn't pretend otherwise, letting Yuna's every doting push keep him well adored, tended to with unbelievable excitement, needing to savor these sloppy lusts and every desire that came with it. Letting Yuna adore him was the only way forward, the only possible relief he could have wanted, and it carried him to need more. To crave it. To let himself give in.

Smacking herself silly with his cock and letting her thoughts fall apart, Yuna kept up her sloppy attention, moaning harder on his balls while she slobbered all over them. "I'm going to drink your cum this time, because I don't want you to stop being able to see my pretty face under all this cum. I want you to know you're fucking a gorgeous Korean teen with every stroke, daddy." Her 'daddies' were strategic little missile strikes to drive him mad, and they kept working perfectly to drive him mad.

Y/n took one of his hands off the driving wheel and grabbed her head, shoving her deep down his cock. Yuna said she was going to drink it, but 'drink' implied she would swallow. Y/n didn't let Yuna swallow, forcing her to deepthroat his cock and pumping into her with unrelenting greed, the pressure and the chaos of fever that pushed her over the line. She struggled through letting him pump his load directly into her stomach, the moaning ecstasy carrying her in hazy surrender and a beautiful madness she didn't have any idea how to resist this. Maddening pleasure carried her to fall fully to pieces under the pleasure of all this pleasure, the heat of needing to just give up to all of it. It was a brilliant mess of desire and need and hunger to give up to, and she didn't have a prayer against it.

"We're almost there," he told her. "Just stay down there until I stop, okay?"

Yuna was happy with that, suckling on her daddy's fat white dick like a hungry little baby pig. She would have been happy doing this all day instead of having to suffer with actual class work.

******************************

Back at Y/n's, Yuna was happy to immediately fling herself to her teacher, stripping herself out of her clothes and unveiling the luscious mess that her body had become. Red ink all over her fit idol body made clear what she was about. The Q-laden heart on her cheek was only the beginning of the mess she'd made of her body. There was the row of heart vines along her thigh, the words 'WHITE BABIES ONLY’ lovingly rendered and framed in floral accents to serve as a womb tattoo. Hearts and roses and motifs around them enshrined other phrases like 'RACE TRAITOR', 'HAPA FACTORY', and 'BREED WHITE' all over her body. One of Korea's top idols had on hiatus and almost immediately covered herself in red ink glorifying white men, something that Yuna was unabashedly not ashamed of.

Especially when it made Y/n look at her like a piece of meat.

The tattoos were Y/n's idea. He was the one who'd corrupted her into this, the one how had bleached her and pushed her to just fall completely to pieces, showing her the tattoos American women got to signal their devotion to white men and then helping Yuna book appointments to get herself covered in them. She was unashamed of all of it, proud of the mess made of her body and how readily she wanted to give in. Not that Yuna minded covering herself head to toe in these appreciations, of course. She adored all of it.

"Aren't you happy that you've tamed me into a good bleachbunny for you?" asked Yuna, pushing Y/n down onto his bed and ripping at his clothes. "I'm such a dirty little slut for white cock now. I can never return to the stage looking like this now. Korea wants its idols to pretend that Korean boys are worth anything, but I'm just a white man's whore. I can't pretend. I won't pretend. Korean holes should only be filled with white cocks. Korean men shouldn't fuck Korean women; they should only watch superior men fuck them."

"God, you're perfect," Y/n groaned, groping Yuna's perky tits and her taut ass, adoring her body while he eyed all of her tattoos and all of the utterly demented lust behind all of this. There was a pleasure to these feelings that absolutely nothing was going to resist now. "I don't think you could say anything that could make me harder than what you're saying now."

Yuna licked her lips. 'There's one thing," she said, fishing his cock out and looming above it, her cunt dripping from all the oral worship she'd given him to get to this point. Her body shook in wild appreciation of these joys, the lust pulsing across her with unrelenting desire. Her smile widened. "Do you want to hear it?" she asked. 'I think it'll excite you. I think it's just what a hung, white stud here to fuck jailbait Korean girls wants to hear."

"Please," he groaned, not user what it was but trusting fully in Yuna's demented ideals, knowing that whatever she was about to confess to him would be unbelievable. He continued to knead her ass and her tits while awaiting the sweet surprise.

"I've gone off my birth control, daddy."

Yuna followed up the words with a wild slam down onto his cock, taking every inch of white dick into her tight, teenage hole, moaning in hopeless desire as she got to work at taking him in. Her moans were outrageous and desperate, driven by the absolute sloppiest frontiers of obsession now. Up and down she went, throwing herself into ravenous surrender to his cock. Up and down she moved, needing to give in to this, embracing the sloppy lust of everything

she craved. The Her body was ready, sloppy, pushing on for the most reckless of desires, keeping up pleasure and fever she needed only to let take her. It felt so good, so insistent, and she didn't care about holding back from it, didn't want anything to hold her from these lusts now.

"Fuck," groaned Y/n, lost to the immediate weight of her desires and what she wanted. He seized her hips tightly, guiding her up and down on his cock with unbelievable greed, the desire carrying him to need whatever he could get from this, her pussy squeezing around him. "Does that mean--"

"Yes, it means I want you to knock me up. I want to be a traditional Korean slutwife for you. Only you. I want to tend to your home, respect you, submit, and worship your foreign cock. I want to carry your white children and I want to fulfill my purpose. As a woman. As an Asian. As an Asian woman. I need to be yours." She was desperate, shameless, slamming harder onto his cock with merciless devotion. 'That's why you came here, wasn't it?"

"Not just t--"

"Not 'just'. You craved teenage Korean flesh so bad, and you didn't even wait a week before you pumped a load into me. You want this. Don't fight it. I want it, too. I'll give up on being an idol so I can come be yours instead. It's all I care about." Yuna let her hips work wildly up and down atop his lap. she was full of love and devotion, needing to give in to this and craving whatever she could find from it, throwing herself to want more and more of this, the pleasures carrying her to crave him with all she had. There was just no good way for anything to contain her now. Wildly riding his lap and carrying on with all she had to tend to him, Yuna knew that this was the way forward. The way to make him happy, and to change her life.

This was unbelievable. Y/n stared at the broken little cockslut he'd turned Yuna into. He'd never imagined she would so easily become so hard bleached. There was no doubt; she'd immediately converted over to it and let it become a lifestyle for her. It was either a testament to how amazing his cock was, or to how ready Yuna was for BWC to dominate her. maybe both. Maybe they were perfect for one another, destined to come together so his white cock and her race traitor pussy could find one another. It was a beautiful decadence and a chaos to keep giving in to, pleasures demanding only the hunger and the fever to keep pushing for more of.

Yuna was an unstoppable beast, a creature of lust and hunger and desire pushing her to want to give in. she didn't care about restraint, the irresistible chaos and the passion she wanted to keep her wanting more and more of. Pleasure and indulgence carried her to keep needing more, keep pushing in to these maddening lusts. There was a pleasure and a want to keep giving up to hotter. Every slam down onto his huge cock kept her needing more. "You should really consider putting a ring around my finger so that I never ever run away. You could even get me a collar instead, if you wanted to. A nice little diamond choker with a heart on it. Anything to prove I'm your bleached pet."

Every precision strike tease drove Y/n madder. His cock throbbed in hopeless, smoldering greed, keeping up a feverish desire and a hunger to keep wanting more and more of this all. There was no restraint behind these wicked lusts, keeping up the chaos and the passion to keep indulging in, embracing the hungers he wanted more and more to give up to. There felt

like absolutely nothing to give in to hotter, the wilder mess of these chaotic throbs, a lust tearing across him and keeping up wilder hunger now. The pleasure kept up its pace of pure hunger, wanton and sloppy and keeping up with this all. There was a pleasure to give in to hotter now. Her body felt unstoppable, driven by a sloppy momentum carrying her to just want to give up to all of it, needing to embrace these absolutely demented lusts now, desires and hungers she couldn't get enough of.

Moaning in hotter, hazier surrender, Yuna loved being such a sloppy bleachbunny for him. Her eyes rolled back, moans stuttering and shivering through these hopeless lusts. Keeping up the pace here imposed something upon Yuna that felt truly beautiful now. She didn't want it to stop, didn't want anything to hold her back from these devotions now. "White cock is the best. I need it. I need you. Knock me up and make me your wife already, what's keeping you?" She continued to greedily slam down onto him, unstoppable, imposing, demanding that he fuck her and fill her. There was no restraint for Yuna, only the dizzying surrender of satisfaction to keep chasing, and she was happy to keep up with it, to push him, to demand from him everything.

How could Y/n possibly resist? He slammed her down on his lap in maddening greed, desire carrying him to want more and more of these wicked pleasures, sloppy fever to give in hotter to. The unreasonable, overbearing ecstasy drove him to need this, every craving pushing him along until he just lost all control. Senseless, sloppy, hungry, he slammed up into her, pumping into Yuna with shot after shot of gooey cum that drove her over the line, keeping her needing this in fully, sloppier hunger keeping up the pleasure beyond reason. It was a beautiful mess of hunger, the heat to continue to give in to deeper. There was a pleasure behind these unreal and unreasonable devotions, the tremble of shuddering lust to just give up to utterly.

"Breed me, breed me! I want my white babies. The best thing a Korean woman can be is the mother to white children!" Her screams of sloppy obsession carried her to need this, craving the hunger and the fever of desire she didn't try to resist. Cravings consumed her utterly, and Yuna wanted to give up to all of it, delving in to the hotter of passions now, keeping her needy and sloppy and lost to the purity of hunger upon her. There was nothing she wanted to do but give up to all of this, the more and more imposing lusts she gave in to fully. The warm, gooey cum set her off, made her gasp and shudder through wilder passion, the pleasure she let carry her to the limit. It was an unbelievable hunger to need more of, giving in to this lustful heat without a shred of reason or dignity now. There was just pleasure to all of this, the burning fever to want more and more of. "Breed me again."

Yuna was happy to twist around and turn toward him, shaking her perky ass and showing off the big white heart on her ass cheek that read 'WHITE OWNED' with a crown. It was the kind of sight that could make Y/n’s thoughts go a bit crazy as he lurched forward. He meant to slide right back into her pussy, but as her wiggling, tatted-up ass advertised itself as white- owned, Y/n decided he wanted to go for something else, ramming his huge, white cock up her tight little backdoor without a word of warning.

Squeaking in wild shock at the pressure behind it, Yuna didn't exactly mind. "Of course, you want to fuck my ass, too," she moaned. "I don't mind, we'll get back to breeding again." She worked against him harder, happily tending to these sloppy devotions, her hips working to

meet his thrusts and to give in to the wildest of her desires. "Every part of me is made for you, and I'll be a good wife for my white man by letting your cock dominate all of my body. I'll learn how to cook American meals and give you them while I give you head, just like a white man deserves!" The sex was just a step in the process now, devotion carrying her along.

Yuna felt like she needed to just embrace these wicked and depraved ideas now, sloppy indulgence and obsession that carried Yuna to let herself go. She didn't care about these relentless passions now, the pleasure to keep her falling in to deeper, the hunger and the fever of giving up to all of this. The pleasure didn't leave a shred of sense behind now, the pleasures carrying on the sloppier fire and the chaos to want more and more of. Her hips shook and slammed back, feeding the needy heat pulsing across her body, tending to Yuna's every desire and hunger. she didn't want to slow down, needing to feel whatever she could get from this sloppy spectacle, greedy and lost and lit up with the fierce indulgence and desire that could turn a girl dumb. She didn't want to slow down in the face of this, needing only to let the pleasure carry her deeper, to feel this huge, white cock rearrange her guts.

"Can't help it," groaned Y/n, ramming up Yuna's ass with all he had, seeking the sloppy embrace of single-minded lust and the need carrying him to want to just go all out. It was too much pleasure to contain, the burning fever and ferocity that demanded he do everything he could to give in to this. It felt like everything he needed. "You could be famous, but you want to be my whore wife instead."

"Pleasing a white man brings me something so much better than being famous ever could," she whined. The pleasure enticed madder pleasure that she needed more and more of.

Unrestrained carried her to need to give up to all of these excitements, the passion to need more and more of. Unreasonable, unreal desire carried her to crave this now. Her tight ass got stretched out even harder than her cunt, and she knew she wanted only to give in to all of this, needing to surrender to these joys in full, keeping up the sloppiest of passions and joys now. The pleasure demanded that she succumb utterly, melting under the burning ecstasy to continue sinking in to.

The bed creaked and heaved a little bit under the force of wild doggy style anal, pounding madder into her. Drunk on these desires and sinking into the lust, Yuna didn't want anything to slow her down, carried on into the sloppier, deeper chaos to give in to, struggling through ideas of burning ecstasy that she continued to fall in to now. The pleasure was relentless, ferocious, burning across her and inviting her to just need to succumb to all of this. Yuna knew what she was about, and she knew what she wanted, embracing all of the hungers to carry on with hotter. There was no good way to handle these ideas, pleasure and chaos that carried her to want more and more of now.

"My whole body is bleached. I'm such a dirty slut. I'm such a naughty whore for white dick. I'm so happy that you're the white stud who broke me in, but I was destined to be a dirty whore for white men. It's what any Asian woman is made for. It's what we're born for!" She squealed out in hotter chaos, the surrender of delving in to these wicked ideas, pleasure to fall in to deeper, every craving igniting inside of her the purest of devotions and lusts now. It was what she needed most, and everything about these drunken joys drove her over the line now. "Do you like my tattoo? Once I'm done having my first baby, I'll let you choose what my other ass cheek gets." She twisted and giggled through this sloppy delirium, through a

continued need carrying her to want this all. She felt the unstoppable desire rip harder across her.

"I'm going to fucking cover you in them," he groaned. "Your presents will just be finding new ways to cram ink on your body to say you're a white-owned cockslut." Y/n didn't try to resist it, didn't pretend otherwise. Wilder greeds drove him to want to ruin her, to keep up pleasures that felt madder, sloppier, like a wild rush of burning excitement, the burning wickedness of needing to break her down completely. The utter depravity carried him to want to burn her up hotter, sending her into sloppier fires and lusts that continued to push her along. "I knew I'd take a girl in my class and turned her into a white worshiping whore, I just didn't think you'd be so easy."

"Any Korean girl would break if such an amazing, white cock broke her in. I know it. I'm just the lucky girl too pretty for you to resist. Now turn me into a Korean housewife who's loyal to her husband. We make the best wives. We're obedient. Respectful. Reverent. My white god will never have anything but pure love from me."

All of Yuna's babbling and whining urged Y/n to just let himself go. He remained unable to care about restraint, without a choice in the hard, mad slam forward, pumping into her with relentless joy. He came up her ass, flooding her ass with a hot load of molten spunk, sending her into the thrashing, shrieking joy of an overdrive she fell in to hotter, loving every second of burning greed now. It was unbelievable fire, the ferocious joy that she was able to give in to in full. Yuna thrashed, ached, gave in to these hotter spectacles and a passion that she didn't care about holding back from. The irresistible fever carried her to crave this, and she just did not care about restraint.

The cock pulled out of her ass, and Yuna shuddered. 'SO big," she whined, dripping with his cum from both holes now. "I can get bred again now, right daddy?"

Yuna turned around to face Y/n, eager and sloppy and hopelessly committed to getting what she wanted now.

But Y/n’s cock was starting to soften. A white cock had the stamina to go all night, but it did need a few breaks. "Maybe after dinner," Y/n said, slumping back against the bed. "You did make me cum five times since school ended and it's... I don't know what time it is, but it's not that late."

No. No, that was not acceptance. Frowning and pouting, Yuna stared at the softening cock, slowly falling down. Not shrinking much, though. Her teacher was huge even soft. But she wouldn't let him be soft, and she had to throw herself into the hopeless joy of grabbing his cock and licking it all over. She didn't care about going ass to mouth. Nasty bleached sluts did whatever it took. "No," she whined, licking and kissing all over his cock, tending to him with the burning fever and the desire carrying her to want more and more of all this. The pleasure carried her to crave these joys now, satisfaction and lust driving her into the deep end of fever and ferocity.

"You're such a desperate little whore," he groaned. "Does having white babies fucked into you matter so much?'

Yuna didn't answer, staring up at him with tempestuous, pouty fury while continuing to slobber all over his cock. Of course it did! He knew it, too. He was just teasing, but his teasing was working. She continued to lick and kiss all over his cock, her sloppy reverence carrying him to give in to this, urging him to give her what she wanted.

Slowly but surely, he hardened up against the desire aching across him. Yuna didn't hold anything back, and the raw sexual delight of seeing this desperate little Korean teen slave over his cock drove him mad. How could he not get hard again? His cock rose to attention, every groan he let out one of pure delight at the sheer control he held now over her. "Such a good little slut. You want your babies?"

"Yes," she whined.

"You want to get bred white?" "Please."

"You want my white cock to colonize your little race traitor pussy and pump you full of white babies so that you can start your life as a bleached housewife the second you graduate?"

"It's the only thing I want!" she screamed.

Y/n threw her back down onto the bed and slammed upon her from above, his cock forcing its way with brutal insistence into Yuna's pussy, starting up on the wicked satisfaction that it took to absolutely ruin her. Powerful, feverish slams rattled her to her core, made Yuna shriek as he got back to pounding her cunt, fresh off of a little reminding and a little fluffing.

"Own me," she whined, her legs kicked up into the air for this mating press, letting his body come crashing down upon hers. So powerful, so harsh, so ready to make her melt under his touch. Yuna felt drunk beneath its daze, wanting to continued to let these passions urge her deeper, unable to resist how good it felt to just let go. Everything about these sloppy needs encouraged her to want to collapse, and she didn't care about anything but white cock as he took her. "I'm yours. I'm yours. I'm yours!"

"That's right. You're mine, and you're never going to stop being my little bleachslut now. Ricebunny whore. Jailbait cocksucker. I'm going to marry you the second I'm no longer your student."

The words made Yuna shriek with wild joy, the passion madder and sloppier, carrying her to want to give in to this now. She was powerless against these devotions, passionate hunger to keep giving up to, continuing to surrender herself to this and wanting to give in to these pleasures now, the deeper ferocity that she was ready to give in to deeper now. There was no restraint behind these ideas, hunger and sloppy desire she wanted more and more of now.

There felt like no good way to handle these frustrations, chaotic fire and desire too ferocious to be able to handle. She needed this, craving his touch and wanting to give ever deeper in to the idea of losing control.

Her legs pressed tighter against his sides, drunken whines continuing to ring out in brighter desire now. Yuna felt powerless, the hunger sloppier, wilder, carrying her to need more and

more of this. There was only devotion and desire to this mess, and she was ready for this. All of this. She needed to give in, and she needed to surrender herself to these maddening lusts, carried into pleasure and want she didn't know how to resist. It was a relentless passion to carry on with, giving up to these lusts to give in to deeper now.

This was an addiction. Unable to contain herself and knowing that she was a sloppy wreck giving up hotter by the second, Yuna simply couldn't contain herself, couldn't care. She gave in to these desperate lusts, ecstasies ripping across her madder and wilder now. Drunk on these lusts and ready to give up fully to this mess, Yuna fell gleefully to pieces, lost to this hunger and lost to the sloppiness of ecstasy that tore her utterly to pieces now. "I need to get bred,” she whined. "Please. Please. Babies. Let me brag. I'll get it tattooed on me. All over. Breed me white and I'll cover myself proudly in it. It's all I want." She was a dizzy wreck, thrashing under the lust and the heat of needing to simply give in to all of this, the pleasures she wanted to break under fully.

Unrestrained greed carried Yuna to want to just fall to pieces, succumbing to pleasure desperately demanding that she break down in full. There was no good way to handle these passions, and it became a pleasure she just couldn't resist. The pleasure was unreal, a sloppier fire carrying her to give in deeper to this now. The pleasure carried her to want to fall utterly apart here. The pleasure was truly spectacular, and she didn't want it to hold her back. There wasn't anything to do but gave up to all of this, pleasures demanding that she fall apart in full. It was beautiful, desperate, reckless, and she just gave up to all of it now. She had to. Yuna was drunk on the bliss of betraying her race, and her pleas were hopelessly committed to the most demented of surrenders.

"Fuck," groaned Y/n, who struggled to hold himself together long enough to actually get into this groove. The pleasure was relentless and feverish, sloppier pleasures he knew he needed to give up to deeper. The most ravenous of these lusts demanded more from him, keeping up pleasure and want that continued to give in deeper now. There was a pleasure that didn't feel sane, senseless and wicked. "You're unreal."

Yuna squealed hotter. "That's all I can get? One of the most famous idols in Korea is your bleached cumrag, and all you can call me is 'unreal'?"

"You're the perfect fucking woman!" he hollered, throwing his head back, cursing, thrashing, giving himself up to this hotter. The burn of noisy hunger and fever drove him over the edge, all sense melting away in the throes of these pleasures. He came hard, pumping her full of cum and letting loose the sloppiest of his desires now. Relentless, hungry, thrashing wildly about, he let loose the hungers that drove him mad. It was pleasure as desperate and as forceful as he could have handled now. The sloppier and hotter chaos continued its demanding hungers now.

The words sent Yuna shrieking into another orgasm, sloppy and noisy under the wild satisfaction of just needing to give in to this. It was everything to her now, the pleasure to carry in to hotter. The ever-sloppier chaos drove her mad with hunger, and she just had to accept the sloppy desire and ecstasy of wanting all of these wicked passions now. Her cunt squeezed down around his cock, and her screams of desperate drunken fever carried her to the limit. "Daddy daddy daddy daddy bleach me!" She was lost her mind with joy; this was

the day she had been waiting too long for, and she wanted to give up to these wicked desires, a pleasure she wanted to succumb to utterly, and she didn't pretend she was even remotely capable of reason now.

As she came around his cock and screamed for this, Y/n happily gave in to the morally dubious ecstasy of these pleasures too, giving up to all of this and embracing the utter ecstasy that kept hitting him hard. His cock erupted with wild joy, needing to fill her up, throwing all sense away and allowing senseless joy to be become everything now to him. The pleasure wasn't real, wasn't sensible, and all of these ideas became their undoing. He held her down to the mattress and pumped her full to the brim with cum, sending her into the collapse of all sense under the sheer satisfaction of what he needed most now. This was his time, the beautifully deranged passion he wanted more of, and he just would not hold himself back from all of it.

"Groaning, aching, shivering atop her, Y/n groaned, "I’m going to fuck you all night. Pussy only, to make sure it takes. But dinner." He pulled out of her. "First, we get some dinner."

Yuna nodded happily. "I'll make you something," she cooed, ready to get good practice at being the wife that he deserved.

[drabblesandimagines]

Swipe Right

Leon Kennedy x female reader, commissioned piece Lots of dumb fluff ahead! Thanks so much to the lovely @porcelainseashore for commissioning me with the brief of Leon using a dating app! I've said it before and I'll say it again - please do go check out Porcelain's fics! x

“So,” Leon places his elbows on the counter behind, leans back and flashes a winning smile, “how about dinner later?”

The auburn-haired woman waits for her coffee to finish dispensing before she shakes her head, lips pursed. “No, thank you, Agent Kennedy.”

“Oh.” He was sure they’d had some sort of connection. Their eyes had met across the office on more than one occasion, flirtatiously so – had he read it wrong? “You have plans already tonight?”

“Mm, something like that.” She smiles, politely, picking up her DSO-branded mug and heading out of the break room without so much as a glance back.

Leon shrugs it off – he’s good at that – and places his own mug under the spout, about to make his coffee selection when a familiar voice chirps over his shoulder.

“Have you ever thought of internet dating?”

He spins round, surprised. “Claire?”

“Hi.” She waves with a smile. “So, internet dating?”

Leon’s brow furrowed, about to ask why she was here, but from the visitor lanyard around her neck it was clear it was down to some sort of TerraSafe business, but why is she going on about internet dating?

Oh.

“Wait, did you hear…?”

“The dinner invite? Oh, yes.” She nods, crossing her arms. “Does that ever work?”

“Yes.”

Claire quirks an eyebrow.

“Okay, not recently.” He retorts, turning back around and pressing the button for his black coffee to start dispensing.

“Uh-huh…” She steps forward, turns to lean against the counter to look at him. ��I’m telling you, Leon - internet dating. I finally convinced Chris to give it a go about six months back, and he seems pretty happy. Been seeing a nice girl for three months now – a florist.”

Leon shakes his head, watching the coffee dispense with feigned interest. “Surprised Redfield went for it. How the hell do you introduce anyone to what we’ve seen?” At least with women from work, he didn’t have to skirt around what the hell he does all day.

“Heard of keeping work and homelife separate?”

“And Chris manages that?”

“I mean, she knows what he’s shared with her, but he took it slow. It’s not like the government can keep everything secret these days – not with everyone having a smart phone.” Claire grimaces, remembering the videos of the Alcatraz attack popping up on social media on a live stream. It was taken down pretty quick, but still popped up occasionally. They can’t hide it forever.

“Anyway, enough about Chris’ love life, I’m trying to help yours. Have you tried it? There’s websites and apps…”

Leon recalls a week of medical leave – battered, bruised and laid out on the couch on high doses of meds, flipping through the cable channels and losing hours to a show about people falling in love over the internet, only for the person to be using a fake photo of an entirely different identity and being crushed when they met in person.

“Isn’t that where the catfish are?”

Claire rolls her eyes. “We won’t set your radius that large.”

He looks down, a little confused. “My… radius?”

Leon’s not present on social media, but that’s hardly a surprise with his work. Maybe, if things had been different, he would’ve trawled through it at some point – joined a group for graduates from the Police Academy of ’98, checked in, gone to some sort of graduating class reunion where they would’ve swapped stories from precincts over a lukewarm beer or two in a hall dressed up with balloons and streamers.

Come to think of it, he doesn’t really remember the names of anyone in his graduating class, though he’s not sure if that’s down to a certain amount of knocks to the head throughout his career getting to him. He could look them up – they’ll be in some sort of database somewhere that Hunnigan could help him locate, but what would he say?

“Me? Well, I had one day on the job – hell of a first day, actually – and then I was ‘recruited’ into military training, so technically not a cop anymore either.”

“Phone, please.” Claire has moved to sit down at one of the small tables in the kitchen, now holding out her hand expectantly. He finds himself joining her, mug of coffee in one hand and the other pulling out his cell from his suit jacket pocket. He hands it over because it’s Claire and he’s known her long enough now to know she’s not going to drop the subject so easily.

“Have you got any selfies on here?”

“Don’t think so. Why?”

“To put on your profile. Anything I shouldn’t see in your gallery?”

He shakes his head.

“Seriously, Leon?” She must’ve opened the app by the way she’s scrolling down on the screen. “These are all sunsets and photos of your motorcycle.”

“What should I be picking pictures of?”

“Oh, wait… Here’s one.” She turns the phone around. It’s him, grinning, next to a corpse of a zombiefied lion. “I repeat – seriously, Leon?”

“Ha, yeah.” He smiles in acknowledgement. “I was trying to get Hunnigan interested in fieldwork with the spectacular sights.” Claire turns the phone back around and the sound of a camera shutter clicks out of the speaker.

“Ooh, that’s a good candid – and no-one needs to know what you were looking at.”

“Look, it’s nice of you to offer, but I don’t know about all this…” He rubs the back of his head.

“It’s 30 days free. Just try it and if you still don’t like it by the end of the trial, you can delete it off your phone and I won’t bring it up again.”

He stalls, taking a long sip of his coffee as he thinks. Claire means well, after all and if Chris has had luck with it, considering what Leon knows he’s seen and lived through, what does he have to lose, really?

“Fine. 30 days.”

“Great! Now, let’s set up your profile…”

--

Claire had given him a tutorial – swipe left if you’re not interested on a profile, right if you are. If the person swipes right in return, it’ll set you up as a match and you can start a conversation – signaled by a small speech bubble icon appearing on the bottom right.

It wasn’t until that evening that Leon tried it out properly, sat on his couch, killing time before bed and begins to swipe through. It feels a little odd – he usually likes to get to know a person somewhat before offering out his dinner invite, but this is mostly on looks alone, with a tiny snippet of profile information – age, location, what they’re looking for.

He swipes right on a blonde, her profile full of photos from beach vacations or something, says she’s not too far away from him and is ‘looking to connect with someone deeply.’ A chat box pops up immediately and after a moment or two, three dots show Beauty – he’s not sure that’s her real name - is typing.

Hey, big boy. What’s bigger – your forearms or… An eggplant emoji?

Oh.

He hesitates over writing back a response. He can flirt with the best of them, but how is anyone meant to make a genuine connection over this app? Maybe he’s too old for this shit.

He puts his cell down by his side and switches on the television instead.

--

“So…” Claire drawls over his shoulder over three weeks later, tracked him down to his desk.

“So…” He mocks back with a tease, swinging around in his office chair.

“Any good dates recently?”

He laughs. “How do you even get that far?”

“You’ve not gone on one?”

“Not for lack of trying.” It’s true. After Beauty, he had struck up conversation with a few more genuine girls that seemed to be going well until he’d broached the idea of a date and they’d drop off the radar. “A couple seemed interested but then stopped replying. I got one date – she didn’t show up.”

“Oh, come on.” Claire leans against his desk. “That can’t be everyone. Let me see.” There’s the expectant hand again. He sighs, picks up his phone and opens the app before handing it over to her.

She sets to scrolling through new arrivals for him, before she pauses. “Well, this one looks sweet.”

“Claire, I appreciate your concern but I just don’t think this app is for me. I gave it a go, I swear.”

“I know, but you’ve got a few days left on the free trial at least - you won’t lose anything. Just take a look?”

He takes the phone back and looks at the screen – a cropped picture of you, it looks like, your friends’ arms around your shoulders, a big, genuine smile on your face. Not a pout or a smolder in a night club mirror.

“Aw, you’re smiling.”

“Fine.” He swipes, but the message bubble doesn’t pop up. That’s the one thing he doesn’t like about this app – you never know if the other one will swipe back.

“No match.”

“Give her a moment,” Claire elbows him, playfully. “Not everyone is scrolling for dates at work.”

“Hey-”

“Speaking of, I’ve got a meeting. See you!”

--

You throw yourself down on the bed, a little bit tipsy after an evening of drinking with your friends, and hold your phone dangerously above your face – you’ve been so close to giving yourself a black eye from the drop so many times but never learn – and open up that stupid app. Your friend had encouraged you to sign up to it after declaring you’d been in a pity party for long enough now after your last break-up and it was time to get back out there.

You scroll through the latest arrivals, swiping left as you go. Everyone internet dates now, you don’t know why you only seem to attract utter creeps on it. You’d been on a few dates, but they’d all been entirely awkward outside the safety of the chat box.

You pause on one new arrival, Leon, 41, the first photo in the set clearly a candid. He’s dressed in a suit – no tie. Businessman, you wonder? Amazingly hot and maybe the most shiniest hair you’ve ever seen.

You roll over onto your stomach and swipe right, smiling when a chat bubble appears.

--

Leon had just settled into bed for the night when his phone vibrated angrily on the bedside table. He threw a hand out, blindly, and looked at the screen, half expecting it to be an email from work or a message from Hunnigan.

It’s neither – a notification from the app.

Hi, Leon. Thanks for swiping. Can I ask something?

He frowns – a unique opener, but it could still go the way of the others, he reckons. He’s not a prude, per say, but he’s seen a lot more than he was intending to these past few weeks. He backs up and has a quick scroll through your profile, vaguely recognizing your face from when he’d swiped right earlier that day – the girl Claire had deemed sweet.

Hi – ask away.

A bubble appears with three dots within.

How do you get your hair that shiny?

Leon barks out a laugh - definitely refreshing.

I’m sorry, I don’t think we’re at that stage of our relationship yet where I’m comfortable sharing my beauty secrets.

Please? Mine is so dull.

He clicks on your profile again and onto the photos but can’t see why you’re worried about your hair. Truthfully, all he registers when he looks at the picture is that sweet, genuine smile.

Looks pretty good from what I can see.

The camera adds all the shine. Are you using a filter?

Trust me when I say I wouldn’t know how.

Don’t know about filters but using a dating app? That doesn’t gel.

My friend suggested I give this online dating thing a go, so here I am.

Well, you’ll have to thank your friend for me.

Leon hesitates a moment, before shrugging it off.

I’ll be sure to, especially as it’s got me talking to you.

Your scalp tingles, but it seems nothing to do with the alcohol consumed earlier.

Too cheesy? I told you I’m new to this, right?

Nah, you’re gouda.

Leon grins.

--

The conversation continues to flow over the next few days. You talk about work – he keeps it vague, works in the government, can be called away on business trips last minute – and you are equally elusive in your response of office work. Internet safety, he reckons, smart girl that you are. Hearing his phone ping with a notification has quickly become his favourite sound.

Nice day? Definitely. Picked up my motorcycle – it’s been in the shop a while. Dare I ask what happened? He hesitates. Chasing a bioterrorist down a highway is perhaps a little too much…

Hit by a truck. I wasn’t on it - obviously.

Jeez. Insurance not just buy you a new one? I can’t think how that’s salvageable.

It’s my favourite, I couldn’t give up on her. You ever been on a motorcycle?

Uh-uh. Too scared.

What of?

Falling off, mainly.

No danger of that if you ride tandem - just need to be sure to hold on real tight.

You bite your lip, mulling over a response, but Leon fills the gap.

And I’d look after you, of course. Make a nice first date, don’t you think?

First date? That’s more, like, third or even fourth date material.

There’s your chance, Kennedy – don’t mess it up.

Well, then we better get the first date out of the way.

You bite your lip as you type back a response. Is that your way of asking?

If it is?

If it is, then I’m free Friday...

Perfect.

--

Friday morning arrives and Leon’s at his desk, typing up a report when his phone chimes. Checking over his shoulder, he pulls it out of his pocket and smiles when he sees it’s a text from you. You’d exchanged numbers the other night, deciding it time to take communication off app ahead of meeting up.

Morning. Question?

Morning. Still after my shampoo secrets?

Yes… But not that. How am I meant to recognize you?

I thought that’d be easy – by how shiny my hair is, apparently.

It’ll be dark out, though.

Is this you trying to be subtle about asking for another photo?

No comment.

Leon locks his computer, the screensaver switching to today’s date and time on a black background. He swings his desk chair around, looks around again to make sure no-one’s on their way past, and opens the camera app. He flips the viewfinder around and tries out a couple of smiles before snapping a selfie – if Claire could see him now…

He sends it through.

Included the time and date and all. Happy?

No comment.

Well, how will I recognize you?

Easy. I’ll be the one coming up to you and saying, “Hi, Leon.” See you tonight x

Until then x

--

The two of you had decided to meet at a bistro – varied menu for all tastes, not too intimate, excellent wine, spirits and craft beer menu.

Leon is nervous as he stands to the side of the entrance – an emotion he hasn’t truly entertained since 1998. There had been no time for it when bioweapons and death were staring him down the face. But, tonight… Well, he’s out of his element on this one. Leon had only ever approached women through work and, yes, it was to varying degrees of success but they’d already seen him properly in person, heard his voice, aware of what he does. There was a horrible niggle at the back of his mind that the date who had stood him up a few weeks ago had caught sight of him and turned heel on the spot.

He looks down at this watch to see it’s bang on 7.30. He’d arrived ten minutes too early, but didn’t want to chance being late and showing up in a fluster. When he looks up, slipping a hand back into his pocket, a figure with a familiar face is walking towards him, greets him with an anxious smile and an awkward half-wave.

God, you’re adorable.

“Hi, Leon.” 

“Hi,” He smiles, one hand still in his pocket, the other hanging down by his side. He wonders if he should’ve gone in for the kiss on the cheek, but he’s missed his chance.

“Erm…” You wring your hands together. “You okay?”

“Great. You?”

Why does he feel as giddy as he did when he picked up his girlfriend for prom back at high school?

“I’m good. It’s nice to put a… voice to a face?” You laugh – light and airy - and Leon’s already desperate to hear it again.

“It really is. Er, shall we?” He gestures forward with his arm.

You nod. “Let’s.”

The conversation is stagnant at first, a sentence here or there as you peruse the drinks menu and move on to ordering starters and entrees. With a little liquid courage, though, the two of you soon slip into easy conversation.

It’s just after the appetizers are cleared when Leon realizes he’s completely and utterly smitten.

You don’t even know where the time has gone, but all of the sudden the two of you are the only diners left and it’s clear the wait staff are looking for you to leave so they can begin their nightly clean down.

He follows you out and onto the sidewalk, a few metres away from the bistro entrance, standing awkwardly opposite each other – mirroring the beginning of the evening.

“So, fancy a ride?”

You tilt your head at him curiously before you burst out into laughter and he grins, rubbing the back of his head, awkwardly, as he realizes the context.

“I mean, I brought my bike here. I can give you a ride home - on my bike.”

You smile. “Not on the first date, remember?”

“Of course.” He nods. “Sticking to your principles – I respect that. Well, can I call you a cab?”

“Oh, actually, I’m gonna walk. I live just in that building over there…” You point up to an apartment building about halfway up the next block.

“I could walk you across the street?” He cringes as he realizes maybe he’s coming on too heavy-handed. “I’m sorry, I promise I can take a hint-”

“No.” You cut across abruptly. “I mean, walking me home would be nice.”

You cross the road in silence, both wrapped up in your own thoughts. You wish you lived slightly further away so you’d have longer to work out what to say, how to end the night.

“So…” Leon begins the other side of the road, the entrance to your apartment block just ahead. He’s trying to keep calm and collected, but there’s just something about you that has made his heart race, his palms sweaty. Don’t fuck this up, Kennedy. “I had a really lovely evening.”

“Me too.” You smile back – and you mean it – but you can’t help but brace yourself. Is this the part where he says, yeah, he had a nice time, but he’d rather not do it again? It seems all too good to be true. He’s the same as he was on the phone, messages and photos.

“Great…” You take a deep breath at his pause, unconsciously clenching your fists, “..cos I was wondering how you felt about a second date?”

“You’re really desperate to get me on that motorcycle, huh?” You tease, instantly relaxing. “But, seriously, I’d like that, to see you again.”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“That depends what you have in mind.” You stop, suddenly – the apartment foyer to your left. “This is me.”

“Well, we’ve done dinner, shall we work backwards and have lunch next?”

You take a step closer. “And then breakfast?”

“Fourth could be a midnight feast?” He steps forward too, misjudging the distance and something hard brushes against your stomach. Leon’s eyes widen in alarm. “Oh, wait, I…” He dips his hand into his trouser pocket and pulls out a travel-sized bottle of shampoo with a sheepish smile. “I meant to give you this at the end of dinner – my beauty secret.”

You yank him forward by his jacket collar and kiss him before you can even think properly about what you’re doing. You step up onto your tip toes to deepen the kiss, a hand bracing yourself against his chest for a moment before you mean to step back, maybe even apologise for pouncing on the man, but Leon’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you in place, kissing you back incessantly before you both have to retreat for breath.

“Well, if I knew the shampoo would get that reaction I would’ve started the night off with it.” He murmurs, pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. “I gotta ask though - you’ll kiss on the first date, but not ride a motorcycle?”

You shrug, half-heartedly. “One’s more dangerous than the other.”

He kisses you once more, softly, ending with a teasing nibble on your lip.

“Oh, we’ll see about that, sweetheart.” -- Masterlist . 1,000 followers event

[krazyyyyyy]

Forever Longing Solivan Brugmansia /Reader

Synopsis: A small glimpse into Sol's elementary life, where he abruptly meets the single most important person in his life...You

Warnings: Mentions of violence

Words: 2553

Notes: Don't know how many more of these I'll write, but I'm hoping to get around three more done if not a few more.

Hope you enjoy this short story <3

Children’s happy laughter echoed loudly throughout the playground, as they began to spill out of the school building; marking the beginning of their cherished recess time. Kids ran freely playing around with friends, swinging giddily on the swing sets, and continuously going up and down the slide.

Well, all the kids but one…

A young, small, and quiet Solivan stood far away from the other kids, staring at the ground at his feet, avoiding any eye contact with anybody within the area. He knew he didn’t fit in with the others, given his introverted nature, he was considered an outcast amongst his classmates. People tended to overlook him, barely acknowledging his presence even when they were standing right next to him.

He was used to it, though…. He had his drawing supplies and stuffed animals, the only things that really made him feel anything close to happiness. The stuffed animals would never judge him, and, they’d always be around to listen to him when he needed it, an idiosyncratic concept to him growing up in a loveless household.

A soft tap on his shoulder causes him to lift his amber gaze from the ground and into the familiar brown orbs of his teacher, Mrs. Baker. A woman with a skinny frame and curly auburn hair that just slightly exceeded her shoulders. It took everything within him not to scoff at her arrival. She was keen on pushing him towards being more sociable with the other kids, a goal that would always fail in his favor. So why couldn’t she just leave him alone?

 She crouched down to his height and spoke to him in her usual soft and steady voice, “Solivan, Why don’t you play with the others today? It seems they're playing a little game of freeze tag, doesn’t that sound like fun?” 

Solivan spared a short glance toward where the kids were running wildly at each other, while some others stayed frozen in place, showing signs of annoyance at being frozen; he retracted his gaze back to the ground shaking his head, mumbling a small “No”

Mrs. Baker smiled understandingly at the timid young boy before her, “I know it might seem scary, but give it a chance, you might like it more than you think.” She attempted one last time to try to convince the boy to open up, even if it was just a little.

The boy remained silent, having lost interest in the conversation completely and hoping that his teacher would simply give up and leave him alone for the rest of the recess period.

Thankfully, it seemed fate was on his side, as he heard his teacher sigh next to him before standing up and walking away to a different part of the playground to supervise a group of rather exuberant children. Leaving him alone at last.

The little raven-haired boy sat on the ground, back pressed against the steel fence that separated the playground from the busy streets that lay not far behind. Settling down, Sol pulled out a small sketchpad from his back pocket; a notebook that was filled page to page in his numerous doodles, which he usually did during class time to pass the time.

Pulling out a pencil, Sol began to doodle, head buried in the notebook; heavily embarked on the mini sketches that required his utmost attention. After a while, he finally cranes his head back to admire his work; his sketch was that of a small horse with a small sketched figure of him seated cheerfully on its back.

He beamed at the drawing, proud of his work. While marveling at the sketch, the notepad is quickly ripped from his grasp. Startled and confused, Sol snaps his head up to look at the culprits. Standing above him, were three kids, obviously much older than he was, possibly four grades above him.

Sol was quick to spring up to his feet to try to get the notebook back, but to no avail, as the blond boy who held the item towered over him. He held the sketchbook high above his head, so even if the little boy tried to jump for it, it would prove pointless in the end

“Give it back!” Sol shouted at the kids as he continued to try to reach for what he considered to be one of his only sources of comfort. All three of the boys laughed at him, “Aww, is the little weirdo gonna cry.” a boy with red hair teased, pointing at him.

“You drew yourself riding a horse? What are you, some kind of girl?” The blond boy jokingly flipped through the pages of the book, briefly observing its contents.

“Stop it!” When Sol tried to reach for his sketchbook once again, the blond boy laughed, before tossing the book over to another boy; then that boy proceeded to also flip through the book and laugh before also tossing it to the next boy. Sol found himself playing in this miserable game of monkey in the middle; a game where he could only watch as his book flew through the air above him, out of reach, with no hopes of ever reaching it.

Eventually, Sol got the courage to defend himself from these bullies, and with all the strength he could muster with his tiny form, he tried to shove the bully who had the sketchbook in his possession. But, the shove proved unhelpful, as the bully didn’t even move an inch.

Sol could barely catch his breath before he was harshly shoved to the ground. A sharp pain pulsed through his body as his back was met with the hard ground; Sol opened his eyes to notice that his sketchbook had fallen next to his body, the bully had more than likely dropped it in outrage at Sol’s sudden rebuke. Sol swiftly snatched the book off the ground and held it close to his chest, shielding it from the bullies.

Sol lay on the ground in a fetal position, with his back facing his bullies, arms still tightly wrapped around his sketchbook. There was a sudden sharp pain on his side as a bully directed a fierce kick toward the young boy; another boy directed a kick, of similar intensity, toward his other side, leaving the little boy only to whimper in pain.

The group of bullies continued to relentlessly kick the defenseless boy, not showing any hint of mercy toward him. Tears ran down Sol’s cheeks as he could only endure the endless kicks that the bullies threw at him. He closed his eyes and hoped the boys would soon grow bored with this and walk away, or maybe a teacher would notice this assault and interfere.

It felt like an eternity that the kicking would continue, he almost thought it would never end…

Until a loud voice rang out and suddenly the kick stopped.

“Hey! Leave him alone!” Sol heard the unknown voice shout at the group of boys. He peeked from his position to glance at where the shouting came from; upon opening his eyes, he was met with his saviors back facing him as they spread their arms out wide to shield him away from the sight of the bullies.

“Get outta the way Pipsqueak! Or you're gonna be next!” He heard one of the bullies shout at the person before him. Sol noticed the stranger's visible shakiness as they stayed rooted in their spot in front of him; they were just as scared of these bullies as he was, yet they still chose to throw themselves in the middle just to protect him. He felt a surge of admiration for the stranger; this had been the first and only time someone stood up for him… his heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.

“No! I-I won't l-let you!” The stranger's words came out shuddered and breathy as if they were holding back tears. Luckily, their voice had been loud enough to possibly draw the attention of others nearby.

The twisted grins on the bullies' faces faded at the realization, and they looked around the area to see if anyone had caught the drift of what was happening.

“Shit!”  Was the last thing Sol heard from them, followed by the frantic pattering of feet in the grass as the bullies quickly fled the scene. Leaving behind two frightened kids as a result. 

Sol, who was still lying on the ground, breathed heavily, the fear coursing through his veins still running wild. He flinched when a blurry object suddenly came into his vision. As his vision slowly cleared, he noticed that the object was the outstretched hand of his savior; they looked down at him with a concerned expression, tears still lingering in the corner of their eyes.

Hesitantly, Sol took the hand, which helped pull him to his feet. He stumbled a bit but managed to regain his balance with a bit of effort and help from the person next to him.

“Are you okay?” The stranger asked him, their voice a bit hoarse from all the yelling yet still holding a subtle gentleness to it. Sol looked at them for a second, before shyly shifting his gaze off somewhere else and slightly nodding his head.

They smiled, their gaze landing on the item that Sol continued to hold tightly to his chest. “What’s that?” They pointed out the sketchbook, which, unknowingly to them, had caused the whole ruckus that just happened moments ago.

“... It’s my sketchbook,” Sol murmured under his breath, keeping his gaze away from the person in front of him. He never did well talking to people, never mind kids his age, this person wouldn’t be any different.

Their eyes lit up as he spoke, “You draw?! I wanna see it! Can I see pretty, please?!”

 Sol was taken aback by their sudden interest in his sketchbook, his eyes were blown wide at them; he had never shown anyone his work before, nor had anyone ever asked to see it… this person was achieving a lot of firsts for him. He supposed he could show them, considering they had just saved him from a harsh beating.

“Umm… Okay.” Sol pulled the sketchbook from where it rested on his chest to hold it out between him and the stranger. He slowly navigated through the pages, properly allowing the person next to him to take in each piece of art. They were a bundle of excitement, commenting excitedly on almost every single little doodle in the book; it brought a small smile to Sol’s face, knowing that someone enjoyed his drawings just as much as he did.

“These are so good! You're so talented! Do you think maybe you can draw me something?” Sol felt his cheeks flush with an odd, unfamiliar warmth. They wanted him to draw something for them. Him? Out of all the people they could have asked? They wanted him to draw for them…

He fidgeted with the pages of the notebook in his hands, keeping his eyes glued to the ground, nervously. “Sure–”

“Wait! Before I forget, my name is Y/N!” They cheerfully cut him off, “What’s yours?” They talked a million words per second, which was a bit overwhelming, but Sol still found himself intrigued by them.

“My name is Solivan…” He spoke quietly, but loud enough for their newfound acquaintance to hear. “Solivan?” They tested his name out, “Well, Solivan from this day forward you are now my friend!” Sol stared at them dumbfounded. He never had a friend before, but didn’t think it would ever be this simple, yet here he was.

He didn’t get a chance to respond to their declaration when they continued to speak, “I’m thinking maybe a butterfly–No wait! A gecko… no…” They continued to list through a variety of animals, as Sol would stand and watch them in awe. He didn’t know what it was, but he felt some sort of connection to his new friend, it wasn’t unwelcome, but it was still strange.

“Oh, I got it! How about a dove? Mom says those are her favorite!” 

Sol raises an eyebrow at them.“Like the bird? Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” They cheer.

Sol only nods his head in response, but a smile remains on his face at their jubilation. He sees the opportunity to speak after your moment of triumph and takes it, “I-um… thank you… for helping me. Not many would’ve done the same.”

They shake their head at him with a smile,“ Don’t mention it. You needed help…so I helped!”, the sincerity in their tone set Sol at ease. He wondered if had truly been missing out. If other kids acted just like Y/N, then maybe talking to others wouldn’t be so bad.

A mature voice suddenly rang out through the playground, catching everyone's attention, “Kids, recess is over! Start lining up with your class!”

“Aww man!” The child next to Sol groans, “Just when we were having fun, too!”. If their definition of fun was getting nearly trampled by a couple of older students, then Sol supposes he had the time of his life… Not really, though, but meeting Y/N was a nice surprise.

Children from all around the playground started to depart, moving to their designated class lines. Y/N started to make their way toward their line before they stopped to turn around to look at Sol one more time. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Solivan! Can’t wait to see the drawing!” And with that, the energetic second-grader gave him one last wave before running over to their class.

Sol gave them a little wave in return, watching as their figure got further and further away. It wasn’t long before he himself started making his way toward his own class, to continue the rest of his day. Of course, his attention wasn’t drawn toward that of his classwork, but rather that of the little dove drawing he spent the rest of the day drawing for that special someone he met.

~

Sol paid no mind as his art teacher rambled on and on about the importance of elements in art; his focus mainly on the small, worn-out sketch pad that lay open on his desk. He lazily drew his fingers along the delicate pencil marks of his old drawing from way back then.

Out of the drawings he had created during his entire childhood, that little dove that he drew for you in the second grade always held a special place in his heart. He remembers how bright your face lit up when he showed it to you the very next day; you insisted that he kept it in his sketchbook, under the circumstance that you get to view it anytime you want–which you would do on the daily.

He shifted his gaze from the paper to where you sat near the front of the classroom, trying your best not to fall asleep during the lecture. His heart ached for you to look at him the way you did when you were kids, now it was like he was a total stranger to you; another student who simply attended the same art class as you.

But with time, you’d eventually grow aware of his existence, you’d have too.

After all, you were his soulmate, just as he was yours.

[cloudcountry]

me thinking i've caught the flu or a cold or something:

google: you could be feeling this way because you're stressed

me: a.

[yourelliewillms]

the guy from the record

store wasn't a guy?

ellie williams fanfic

━━ chapter 1 wc: 1.9k

read the chapters here !!

you've recently discovered this record shop, the perfect place to find everything of the new kind of music you've just gotten into, rock. your friends wouldn't share this interest with you but maybe the cute guy from the store will.

━━ he/him pronous are used for ellie sometimes but it's for plot purposes i swear !!

BASED ON THE GUY SHE WAS INTERESTED IN WASN'T A GUY AT ALL !!!! i love that manga so much i needed an ellie version so i did it myself. of course this is going to be shorter and pleeaase go read it i swear you won't regret it <3 i hardly recommend you to listen to the manga's playlist too, i'll add some of the songs to this fanfic. literally all i want is my lesbians to have the recognition they deserve. ALSO green is the characteristic color of that manga so i'll be using it here too, everything will be green bc we love green lesbians.

another warning, english is not my first language so you may find some mistakes.

it's been a long day at school but at least the week of exams has ended and you've done pretty good. "i deserve a prize" you think to yourself while your feet guide you out of the building. certainly the exams drained you, the only thing you want to do now is take a long nap to catch up on sleep.

walking down the sidewalk, you put on your headphones which have been your best friends for the last few months when you discovered this band nirvana. it is in fact a popular band but in your friend group? no, not at all. your friends prefer other kind of music. pop, kpop, even jazz, but rock? impossible.

so you find yourself unable to share your new music taste with your friends. even if you beg them to give it a chance, they'll refuse it every time. this is definitely the worst, how are you supposed to fully enjoy this work of art only by yourself? they definitely don't understand what good music is, if only they gave it a chance you could-

just when the music from your headphones stopped, you could still hear one of your favorite songs smells like teen spirit coming from a... record store?

your mind is full of questions, since when has been this store here? this is just 5 minutes away from school and you've never noticed it. maybe this is the prize you deserve for having successfully passed all your exams. buying your very first vinyl will surely be the boost of serotonin you need.

you took off your headphones before getting into the store and quickly walked to check all the beautiful vinyls. the excitement could be seen in your eyes, all the vinyls of your favorite bands in one store and you're even considering finding a job, buying everything of this store is not a want but a necessity. this must be heaven.

after what felt like seconds but were actually 20 long minutes, you finally make your choice and find the vinyl that'll have the privilege to be your very first and most appreciated acquisition.

you turn around, walk towards the shop counter and just then realize how rude of you was not to greet the old man at the store. however, you don't care that much, he should understand that you were too excited to even speak and... was it an old man? did you even look at the person who was next to you the last 20 minutes?

"i'll take this" you place the vinyl on the counter before looking up at the person in front of you.

but now, you reassure one more time that you're not on earth anymore. this is definitely heaven, or maybe something greater because the angel in front of you isn't from this planet at all. green eyes, auburn hair drawn back in a messy bun, a scar on one eyebrow, black clothes with a nirvana t-shirt, an arm tattoo and a mask. this is the most gorgeous guy you've seen in your entire life and you were rude to him, you didn't talk to him for this entire time.

"i love this one" he gave you your new purchase in a bag "you have good taste" that raspy voice that'll live in your mind rent free for an eternity, you're sure about that.

meanwhile, your mind has been spinning for the last 30 seconds. a cute guy with a stunning style and majestic music taste, you've seen only his eyes but you can already imagine a life with him where you get married and play your favorite songs in your wedding.

"thanks, you too. bye" and just like that the conversation ended. you're definitely not the most flirtatious person but you didn't ask him anything, maybe it was too soon to ask for his number but not even his name? really? you can already hear your friends scolding you but at least you remember half of his face and that's enough to be delusional the following months until you find another crush.

8 in the morning and you've been talking for half an hour to your friends about this cute guy from the record store. of course they scolded you for not asking his name but your excitement couldn't be taken away that easily. no other boy from your school has ever made you feel like this, no one called your attention like he did.

"is there any possibility that you see your boy again?" dina, your best friend asked "and maybe ask him out"

"dina!" you frowned as if she had just said the craziest thing you've heard in your life "it's too soon for that. but as soon as i see him again i'll ask him his name" you started kicking your feet "and he'll fall in love with me."

dina and your bursted out laughing and spent the whole morning planning your future life with someone you saw once.

maybe you've been talking too loud or maybe she doesn't like you, but the girl next to you has been glancing at you and dina and she seemed a little too much interested in your conversation.

ellie. you've been classmates for almost a year but you two never spoke. she's like any other girl at school. she wears the same uniform as you, a white shirt and a gray skirt. she also wears these square glasses and she has her headphones on most of the time.

she seems like one of those nerds but one that doesn't participate that much in class. she comes to class, listens to the professors and goes home. you've never seen her talking to any other classmates but she seems comfortable only drawing on her notebook and listening to something on her headphones, it's not that you don't like her, but you haven't had the opportunity to get to know her.

but today she seemed quite distracted and instead of focusing on the class, she was focused on you. she seemed nervous, maybe she wanted to join the conversation and make some friends?

however, the bell rang. you were too busy talking about your new guy to try to figure out why ellie's been looking at you more than usual. you began to pack up your belongings; notebook, pencil case, some other books and, are you forgetting something?

the moment you're getting up from your seat, you can feel ellie's presence approaching you. you stare up at her for a few seconds and before you can say something, her hand reached your ear and put on one of your earbuds.

"you dropped this" your eyebrows furrowed, did she always had those pretty green eyes?

the song that you'd been listening on loop nothing at all was playing on your earbuds loud enough for her to listen to it "that song rocks, doesn't it?" and just like that she walked out the door leaving you completely confused. you're sure you've seen those eyes before, you think that maybe for a split second you stopped looking at ellie as your classmate and maybe... someone else.

on the other hand, ellie has been walking in silence staring at her feet while her mind is about to explode because the girl who sits next to her, her classmate and one of the most popular girls at school, has met and is interested in a guy who works at the record store. but no guy works there, just ellie.

she got a part time job and she's been working there for a few months but that was the first time she saw you there. you didn't recognize her though, since the style she has at her job is the opposite of the one she has at school.

probably the best option is to tell you the truth, the guy you're interested in isn't a guy and is actually the boring, nerdy girl from school, the girl you'd never talk to because that would only ruin your reputation, or at least that's what ellie thinks.

ellie thought that her job should be boring and only boring, she didn't want to have to deal with something else than that. and now that girl has a crush on her, or she has a crush on the person she thinks ellie is.

fortunately, ellie's job is calm. not many people visit the store so she spends her first hours of work tidying the place, not paying much attention to the store itself.

while cleaning at the back of the store, ellie heard the ring of the little bell on the door warning the presence of a client. she sighed and fixed her clothes before getting into the store again but got surprised when she noticed that the client was actually you.

if it weren't for the music playing at the store, the place would have been in complete silence. no one was on sight when you walked in so the sound coming from the back of the store scared you and you jumped. "you scared me, i didn't know you were here" you giggled nervously.

"have you been looking forward to it that much?" you were starting to stutter when the green eyed spoke in what seemed a flirty way. "no- i mean! the new foo fighters album" she interrupted herself "you were looking forward to it because you wanted to buy it, right?" she tried to hide her shaky voice, did she just accidentally flirt with you?

"i swear it's so good, you can hear it a thousand times and it'll still sound amazing. also, i know you like nirvana too because you bought the vinyl. you'll love it, i totally recommend it."

you were in a dream, did you just exchange more than two words with that guy? and he was showing a lot of interest it seemed unreal. you'd be a fool if you mess this up.

"i really want to buy it but uhm..." your pockets were empty, you spent all your money in that vinyl and being an unemployed student is not helpful to your situation "i'm a bit short of money right now" not to say that you're dry.

"i'm sorry but i-" yet she didn't let you finish your sentence "i bought this one for myself. you can have it and tell me your opinion when you return it."

he couldn't be more charming to you. only 5 minutes talking and you had already fell down on your knees. "thank you. you can give me your number so that i can bring it back." your hand sweating for you've finally made a move on who you thought was the guy from your dreams.

"no," no? he rejected you just like that, he didn't even a think a second to answer your question "it's just... i can't use my phone at work."

laying on the counter in front of you was a black ink pen which you quickly grabbed and started writing your phone number on his wrist next to his tattoo.

ellie looked at you stunned, she was glad she was wearing a mask because her cheeks had turned crimson. she noticed your hand shaking and that was the moment she realized the trouble she'd gotten into.

"i thought that if i wrote it on a paper, you'd lose it." the music playing in the background just made the atmosphere between you two dreamlike. you waved and smiled at him as you left the store hoping your burning cheeks would go unnoticed. not only did you have someone to share your interests with but also it was someone who you were crushing on really hard.

the first person on the taglist will be my editor/manager/first person who read this @ohnopoteito thank uuu 💋💋

[fandoms--fluff]

Hello sorry to bother you can you do of baby Mikaelson we’re hope she takes her to the school with her because ther parents are doing something’s .

Mine

Flufftober, October 23rd

Baby female Mikaelson reader x Hope Mikaelson

Warnings: None

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You're going to have so much fun here, Y/n/n" Hope tells you as she walks with your one year old self in her arms around the school's hallways. You giggle in return, snuggling into her shoulder as you watch all the scenery and students pass by.

As everyone passes, most of them give you and Hope weird looks, never seeing Hope with a baby before. But Hope pays no mind to them, instead going along her way down to the library where she's meeting Josie and Lizzie.

When she steps into the library, she immediately spots the Gemini twins. Josie's sitting on one side of the couch and Lizzie in an arm chair. No one else seems to be in the library which makes Hope lighten up a little more on her grip on you. She wants to make sure nothing happens to you, and the less people around, the better she thinks. Especially at the school where apparently no one likes to keep to their selves and own business.

"Hi girls" She says sitting next to Josie on the couch. They both respond back and Josie's the first to acknowledge you when you peek your face out of where it was nuzzled into Hope's neck

"And you must be Y/n. You're so cute" Josie's face scrunches up in cuteness as you smile up at her. You usually don't like people outside of your family, especially when you have time with Hope, but it's clear you're taking an interest in the brunette siphoner.

Hope smiles at your reaction and how you're seemingly interested in Josie. "You want to hold her?" She asks her.

"Really? Yeah, please, if you don't mind" Josie lights up while lizzie just watches with her head tilted at the interaction. Josie has always loves babies, weirdly, so she's not going to step in at the moment.

"Of course not, here we go" Hope lifts you into Josie's arms and lap. She takes care in how you react to being switched over to someone else's arms, and you're not fudding so she let her grip go on you and sit back down.

"Hi, Y/n. My name is Josie, and the other girl over there is my sister, Lizzie" Josie points to Lizzie sitting in the armchair a couple feet away.

Your eyes follow where Josie points to the blond siphoner and do a little wave like you've seen your sister do many times before. "Hi" Lizzie says awkwardly.

Hope chuckles at the blonde, "You okay Lizzie?" "Yeah, sure, she's not gonna cry right?" Lizzie looks back to where Josie is playing patty cake with you. You're a giggling mess in the new girl's lap. You really like her. She's way better than the other people your Mama and Dada have introduced to you before, at least from what you can remember of those people.

"No, she won't. She's not really a crier all that much" Hope answers Lizzie as she watches you have fun with the brunette. "That's....good. What are you doing?" Lizzie asks her sister from where she was making funny faces and you burst out laughing.

"I'm not sure how to respond to that. Making funny faces?" Josie turns to her sister confused. You follow, turning to the blonde and tilt your head to the side in confusion.

You then reach out your arms, hands in a grabby motion. "What?" Lizzie's face goes blank. Josie rolls her eyes and turns to Hope for permission. The auburn nods her head in answer and Josie gets up and carefully places you on Lizzie's lap.

"Oh, no, no, no. You see I'm not good with babies. What are you doing? Oh okay uh what do I do?" Lizzie's eyes widen as you reach up and grab her hair into your tiny hands, feeling the softness of it.

"It's alright Lizzie, no need to freak out. She's just trying to get to know you is all" Hope tries to reassure her. "Okay, okay, I'll just stay like this and, yeah you're good, go ahead" Lizzie says as you lean against her chest, her hair still clutched in your fists.

Hope and Josie chuckle as Lizzie get's used to you. And eventually you end up starting to doze off in her arms.

"I think it's time for me and Y/n to go up to my room" Hope says, getting up from beside Josie. "Alright, no problem, we'll see you later?" Josie says. "Yeah, of course" Hope responds before she bends over to take you from Lizzies lap.

When she tries to pick you up from the blonde, your grasp on tighter to the girl's hair. "Ouch, quite a grip she's got" Lizzie winces as her hari gets pulled again.

"Yeah, sorry about that" Hope says in sympathy before prying your hands away from her hair. "There we go" She brings you into her arms, you pouting from being pulled away from Lizzie.

You settle down again once your cuddled against your sister's chest, nuzzling into the warmth radiating off of her. "Bye, girls" Hope smiles before walking to the exit of the library.

As she takes you upstairs, you start to whine, getting cranky. "I know, I know you're tired, we'll be at my dorm in just a minute. And then we can get all comfy and take a nap." Hope rubs her hand up and down your back.

Once you guys are in her room and she sits down on her bed with you still nuzzled into her chest, you start giggling. "What's so funny, huh?" She chuckles.

"Mine" You say one garbled word, grasping onto her shirt tighter than Lizzie's hair. "Yeah, I'm yours. I'm your big sister" She places a kiss on the top of your head.

You started talking a couple months ago, a few words here and there. Which was surprising to your guys' parents when you said your first word a couple days before your first birthday. The word being 'Kol' because of your uncle spending so much time with you to make sure your first word is his name. Which was one of his priority weird main goals. But at least it was a harmless one.

"You want wolfie?" She asks, leaning over to grab your stuffed wolf. You look up at her and nod. "Here you go" She places the wolf in your arms, which you snuggle with immediately before cuddling back into Hope's chest.

That's how you guys stay for the rest of the afternoon, Hope taking a nap with you. There is assignments for classes she should be really doing instead, but it can wait for the last minute. She'd rather prioritize you and spend time with you. Especially since the classes are rather boring anyways.

You guys don't wake up until dinner time, eating all the ice cream for dessert. Which is something she will not be telling her parents about because she doesn't really feel like being reprimanded for feeding you too much sugar.

[doe-eyeddreamgirl]

Thinking about Robb Stark asking you to marry him.

It's just the beginning of Robb's war, but it's been going well. The plans the pair of you and the war counsel had devised had been successful, even capturing the Queen's brother, although he had almost escaped not long ago. He wore thrice the amount of chains since then.

You had known Robb your entire life; you were an orphan at Winterfell and had been taken in by the Starks as Sansa's handmaiden, but you had been raised as their daughter. While you loved all the Starks as family, something about Robb was... different. Although you'd never admit aloud, you were particularly fond of the Young Wolf.

The night had grown dark in the war camp. As you wandered through the camp, you listened to the crickets and the pops and crackles of fires, witnessed as the soldiers sat around them, singing and laughing, while others stood tall, posted at their duties, and others returned to bed.

You nodded to the soldier outside this specific tent, well acquainted. You pressed your cheek to the flap, feeling it flutter through your fingers as a gust of wind past. It made you shiver, but it wasn't nearly as cold as the breezes in Winterfell. The reminder made you long for home. "Your grace?"

"Enter," came Robb's gruff voice, laced with authority, sounding much older than what you were used to.

You brushed underneath the flap, eyes crinkling at the wave of light from inside the tent, lit by an assortment of flaming torches. Robb stood over his make-shift desk, adorned with books, maps, and candles alike. His palms were braced against the wood, body turned to show the entrance his side profile.

Robb took a glance over his shoulder-- a glance at you --and sighed. His posture unraveled as he dragged a hand down his face, trying to rid it of sleep. "Y/N," he breathed, voice full of relief.

"Had you thought I was someone else?" you chuckled, wandering deeper into the tent.

He was still dressed in his clothes from the day. Suddenly, a part of you felt self-conscious to be dressed as if you were ready to pass out at given moment: hair undone, nightgown lazily falling from your shoulders.

You tugged it up quickly as you moved to stand beside him, peering down at a map of the seven kingdoms, decorated with chess pieces.

"I hadn't known who," he sighed. "I'm glad it's you though. I need your help with something."

You smiled, watching Robb divulge into hypothetical scenarios, plans of war, oblivious to the mess of auburn curls on his head. It made it hard to focus, but not impossible. When he concluded, you nodded slowly. "That could work," you said slowly. Then reaffirmed it, nodding, "Well. That could work well, definetely."

Robb sighed, a tired smile coming over his face. "Thank the gods."

You hummed. "Finally deeming yourself fit for bed now?"

"Well," he tilted his head, eyes scanning over the table, debating. "I still have quite of bit to get done..."

"Robb," you stated sternly, a hand coming to rest gently on his bicep, dragging his attention from his work to you. You nudged your head toward his bed. "Greywind is falling asleep before you. Rest."

Robb turned his attention to his bed, where Greywind, his direwolf, a supposed 'mighty beast' laid across the end, head on the edge, dark eyes blinking hazedely. He snorted, running a hand through his hair and turning back to you. "'Suppose your right then. That doesn't happen too often."

You slapped his arm. Robb faked a cry. "Ouch, my lady! That's a king you're striking, you know."

"A humble king, as well."

"Aye," he grinned, "That I am."

You rolled your eyes, smiling so widely dimples formed in your cheeks. "To bed, Robb," you said, huffing. "I mean it. I'll clean up."

"I can't ask you to do that--"

"You don't have to," you interrupted, watching the tension in between his brows unknit itself. You turned away from him, giving him your back. You closed a book, already shuffling a pack of papers together. "You can repay me after the war: make sure I marry some rich handsome Lord who leaves me alone and has a plot near your castle, yes?"

There's silence. Your brows furrowed and you looked behind you. "Robb?"

He'd gone quiet, staring at you. His brows furrowed again. He seemed confused. "You wish... to marry some... Lord?" he asked, the tease he had moments ago lost.

You didn't understand what's shifted. "It's duty," you shrugged. "I'll marry a Lord, if I'm lucky. It's not guaranteed. I'm no lady, Robb. Not like your wife will be."

You turned around again and continued cleaning, thinking the matter is settled. You didn't see the crestfallen look on Robb's face, the battle in his eyes, the sputtering frog in his throat which he swallows. You didn't notice him inch closer, not until you feel the warmth radiating off his, pressing to your side, his arm gently finding your wrist.

"Marry me."

You blinked, lips parting. A guffaw burst from your lips. "What?" you laughed, shaking your head. In fact, it sent you into a fit of giggles, much to Robb's obvious dismay, who stood staring at you, dead-serious. His eyes had a peculiar shine to them.

Your laughter died down. "Robb, you..." your lips twitched, still in disbelief. "You cannot be serious."

He took a step closer, blue eyes gleaming down at you, reflecting the fire within him. "I am, " he whispered, the grip on his wrist sliding down to your fingers, lacing them together. "Marry me and we won't have to worry about stupid Lords or ladies, just you and I."

You blinked, heart hammering on his chest, smile dropping swiftly. For as long as you could remember you had loved Robb, but as long as you had known him you had known you could never be wed. He was going to be the Lord of Winterfell-- now the King of the Seven Kingdoms-- and you were merely Sansa's maiden, an orphan the Starks took pity on. He had duty and honor, you had nothing. "You..." you shook your head slowly, "Robb, we cannot."

"What?" he asked, confused. "Why not?"

Your head shook, lip beginning to wobble despite your attempts to prevent it. "You have a duty, and I will not get in the way of that."

"What?" Robb took a step closer, deeply, utterly confused. He could feel the rush of blood in his veins and his heart pounding in his chest. He was fully awake now. "What are you talking about?"

"You are meant to marry a noble lady from a noble house--" you began.

Robb cut you off quickly, grabbing your other hand as if it would make you see reason.

"I do not wish to--"

You tugged your hands from his grip, stepping away from him, trying to get air. You couldn't breathe with him looking at you like that, eyes full of hope and desperation. You could hardly think. "You cannot just marry me because you do not wish to marry a stranger!" you shrilled.

Greywind stirred from his sleep, shifting from his bed, watching the two of you.

Robb shook his head wildly, lips twisting like he had been insulted. He looked at you crazed, taking a step forward. "You think that is it? I want to marry you because- because what? I'm afraid? I'm desperate? Because I do not wish to marry some powerful Lord's daughter." He took another step closer. "Do you think that is why I dance with you at feasts as well? To avoid mingling with other ladies?" he spit. "Why have I spent these years trailing after you like a lost pup?"

"I don't know why you choose to do what you do."

Robb threw his hands in the air. "It's because I love you! Ever since I was a boy. Ever since I have known what love was, I knew that I loved you."

The memories flashed in his mind: Snowball fights and horse rides. Sword fights and bandages. Sneaking to the kitchens and watching you do his sisters' hair. His teases, your scolding. His calloused hand holding your soft palm.

He swallowed, voice low. "Say you do not love me."

You shook your head. He wasn't understanding. "I cannot," you said, frustratedly, quickly adding, "But I cannot marry you."

"Why?" he growled, exasperated.

"I will not let I this," you waved between the two of you, "bring death to your duty. I will not ruin your chances at bringing your sister's home; at avenging your father; at winning this war. I will not kill you."

He couldn't give a damn about being alive if it meant not being with you.

Robb's jaw clenched. "I love you."

Clamping your eyes shut, you ignored the gnawing of your heart that begged you to stay, and you turned around, "Good night, Robb."

"No, you cannot just go!"

He hadn't meant to shout. It had just happened, erupted from him like dragon fire. At the commotion, the large wolf on his bed shot up to stand, barking. The barks became background as he watched you turn around, eyes wide, looking frozen.

Fuck.

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, dragging a hand down his face. "I-"

You beat him to it, looking down at your hands, picking at your nails. "Your grace," you said plainly. Robb flinched. "If I can please be dismissed."

"You don't..." You didn't need to call him that. He tugged on his curls, a pout on his lips. "It wasn't a command. I would never command you to do anything. Of course, you can..." he couldn't bring himself to say the word 'go'.

If he said it, he'd be giving up. On this conversation. On your marriage. On you. He would never give up on you, not even when you whipped around, rushing to escape his tent like a freed hostage.

Without meaning to, he rushed after you, watching as your head disappeared underneath the flap of the tent. "Y/N," he pleaded.

You reappeared just as quickly as you left, head peeking through the flap. Eyes glossy, but stern. Beautiful. "Do not seek me."

And you left Robb alone again, and he listened. He stayed in his tent, trying to tune into the sounds of crickets; laughter, singing, and snoring; Greywind's disappointed huffs; and his ragged breathing, but nothing could overpower his thoughts and the crack of his heart breaking.

But yk just a thought.

Robb please let me have ur babies, thank yur

(My reoccuring scenario uhg)

oh uh not proof read and written in an hour before i should go to bed

[raven-undergrove]

I am convinced that any show watcher who says Armand is lying about him and Lestat being together either: 1. Has never read the books, 2. Has read the books and has terrible media literacy skills, or 3. Is just plain racist against Southeast Asian people. Why? Because these are Lestat's canon thoughts about Armand:

But his face was shining white, and perfect, the countenance of a god it seemed, a Cupid out of Caravaggio, seductive yet ethereal, with auburn hair and dark brown eyes. -- TVL

He was all mystery to me as Magnus had been. Only he was beautiful, indescribably beautiful, and there seemed in him an infinite complexity and depth which Magnus had not possessed. -- TVL

He was perfectly the god out of Caravaggio, the light playing on the hard whiteness of his innocent-looking face. Then he put his arm around my waist, sliding it under my cloak. His touch was so strange, so sweet and enticing, and the beauty of his face so entrancing that I didn’t move away. -- TVL

I hadn’t guessed Armand had been with him! Hadn’t picked up the faintest indication that Armand had been there. And to think, whatever we might have said to each other, it was lost now forever. But then that couldn’t be, could it? We would have our time together, Armand and I; all of us. -- QotD

I wanted to polish him with kisses, clean him up, make him even more radiant than he was. -- MtD

“When you found me under Les Innocents,” he said, “you wanted to bathe me with perfume and dress me in velvet with great embroidered sleeves.” … “Yes,” I said, “and comb your hair, your beautiful russet hair.” -- MtD

“You look good to me, you damnable little devil, good to embrace and good to love.” We eyed each other for a moment. And then he surprised me, rising and coming towards me just as I moved to take him in my arms. His gesture wasn’t tentative, but it was extremely gentle. I could have backed away. I didn’t. We held each other tight for a moment. The cold embracing the cold. The hard embracing the hard. -- MtD

I didn’t like it that they knew each other at all. David was my David, and Armand was my Armand. -- MtD

Armand is still about, the lovely five-hundred-year-old boy-faced ancient who once ruled the Theatre des Vampires, and before that a coven of devil worshiping blood drinkers who lived beneath the Paris Cemetery, Les Innocents. Armand, I hope, will always be around. -- TTOTBT

In short, if I see someone I follow making ignorant comments about Lesmand that insult Armand, treating him as undesirable, now that Assad Zaman is playing him, I am going to be unfollowing and possibly blocking that someone. And if the show goes this route, I'll probably quit watching, because it will just feel racist.

[ghost-proofbaby]

AND I'LL STILL SEE IT, UNTIL I DIE - YOU'RE THE LOSS OF MY LIFE.

summary: eddie decides to offer his help once more - along with alcohol, of course.

warnings: strong language, angst, consumption of alcohol, (overly poetic) smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, technically unprotected sex even after the idiots discussed protection, minors dni

wc: 3.9k+

a/n: extremely sorry for the shortest chapter in this series yet. also, out of all the songs referenced for the title of chapters, this one might be the most on the nose. i kid you not, i cannot explain how perfectly loml encapsulates reader/sugar's emotions during this chapter. if you'd like the extra hurt, 10/10 recommends listening as you read. :)

☆ prev chapter | masterlist | next chapter ☆

 “Can I kiss you, Sugar?” 

You’ve made your fair share of dumb decisions in your life. Plenty of moments have slipped right between your fingers due to hesitation that you’d later regret, you have a catalog of embarrassing encounters to serve you a lifetime. You’ve said yes when your answer should have been a resounding no, you’ve made promises you knew were impossible to keep, and you’ve always had an unexplainable habit of digging yourself into graves that will surely bury you alive. 

This moment is no different. 

The correct reaction is to tell him no, to push him away and end the night here. You should leave before either of you make any mistakes and ruin whatever fragile thing resides between the two of you any further. There’s a million other options you should be taking, but at the end of the day, you still nod your head. 

Not even a second later, Eddie’s lips are on yours, and it’s hard to call it a mistake when it’s the first time you’ve felt like you could properly breathe in two years. 

He tastes like bourbon, and mistakes, and regret, and a youthful type of love impossible to grasp onto. A vague memory you never get to hold, but always learn to miss. When his hands travel slowly to your hips, you’re only pressing closer, deepening the kiss with the desperation of someone starved. Someone stained. 

You were an idiot to think it wouldn’t end this way. You were in his apartment, and you were drunk. You were brimming with bad decisions. It was always going to end up this way. 

Your knees somehow end up digging into the sofa cushions on either side of his hips, your recollection of how you climbed into his lap nonexistent. Had it been his doing, his own needy hands guiding you here? Or had it been you? You, with an ache that rang throughout your entire body, soothed only by sharing each of his breaths with him when he finally pulls back from the kiss. 

“Are you sure you want thi-”

“Don’t ruin it,” you beg, silencing him as you look into those deep autumn eyes, memorizing rivets of soft auburn that never really changed. An ever changing kaleidoscope, but there were simply parts of Eddie he’d never be able to hide from you,to change, “Not yet. Please.”

You don’t know if you’ll want it come morning. You can’t estimate just how deeply the regret will burrow once it’s all said and done; you’re not in the mood to think sensibly. No hypotheticals, no curiosity for the future. 

You just want him. Right here, right now. Far beyond just sex, and far beyond casual touches. But it’s the only way you can have him, the only way he can have you, for now. 

His fingers are more skilled these days. More deft and nimble as they race up and down your sides, quickly undoing the button of your jeans and easily sneaking beneath your shirt. Two years could be two seconds with the way he still knows you and your body, knowing exactly where to apply more pressure as he plucks on every string beneath your skin that makes you sing out for him. Hums, gasps, moans – they all sort of blend together at some point, don’t they? 

“I’ve missed you,” you swear you hear him mumble against the skin of your neck when his mouth begins to wander, “I’ve missed this.” 

You convince yourself he didn’t say it just to avoid ripping yourself apart any further.  

Instead, you busy your mouth with kissing him harder, faster, more desperately. You’re all but burying yourself in him. Your hips grinding against his, your lips swallowed in his, your hands finding themselves tangled in his hair. 

You’re drunk enough that you convince yourself that this is it – this is home. 

It feels natural to let him run you down this way. It’s instinctual as he takes his shirt off and your hands roam over bare skin that whispers with the ridges of paths you’ve traced before. You know that scar on his right hip from when he got his appendix removed as a child, you know that lightened patch of skin on his left thumb from when he’d managed to burn himself with a lighter while cutting class one day with you. You know him – so much better than you’d let yourself believe these last few weeks. 

“Do you have a condom?” you pant, and you both pretend like your words are choked up from gasping to recover the air you’d offered to the kiss, and not the emotions rearing their ugly heads. 

He does. Of course he does. He’s a rockstar now – he has women throwing themselves at him constantly. Of course he’s prepared. 

It happens somewhere between him pulling the condom out of his wallet, and managing to pull his own shirt off. At some point in which you’re left in nothing but your undergarments, hips grinding down on his in sloppy circles, he lets out a low and drawn out moan. All your movements stutter, nearly halting, as that sound rings out around you. You swear, it echoes off the walls of your own head and not the eerily empty apartment. 

You break as you gasp out, “Fuck, Eddie.” 

Another dumb decision for the books. All it takes is you sighing his name for him to flip the entire script. Suddenly, you’re no longer straddling his lap, no longer biting his lip and gripping onto the back of the sofa for balance. 

Your back collides with the cushions below and he hovers over you, kissing with more intent and purpose this time. Each press of his lips is followed by the nipping of teeth, desperately trying to mark you up along your chest, completely oblivious to the way he’s already left his stain. 

You’re convinced if he presses his lips just hard enough, if he bares his teeth just sharp enough, he’ll see right through you. Your skin will become all but cellophane and he’ll see all those blooming violets and deep maroons still left behind in the shape of his mouth. He’ll see the way another has never followed these paths, not after him. 

All the failed rebounds, all the failed distractions. There’s never been another person capable of taking your mind off of Eddie Munson. No one’s kiss ever made you bleed the way he’s capable, no one’s touch could ever erase the mark of his. 

The wine still makes your head swim as your chin tilts to the roof, giving him all the room possible to paint whatever picture he’s vying for on your skin. You let him leave his physical mark; you let him leave a physical reminder of something to regret. 

“Do you know how many times I played this moment back over in my head?” his voice is a murmur that vibrates against your sternum, words not quite slurring, “Do you know how many times I swore-”

You don’t know – and you never find out what exactly he had sworn time and time again as the trill ringing of a cell phone shatters the entire atmosphere. 

One moment, Eddie’s lips are painting portraits along your chest and neck, the acceptance of making a mistake settling deep into your bones. And the next, he’s lifting up, looking wildly towards his kitchen, where you’re sure that it’s his phone buzzing erratically on the counter. 

“I-” he looks wildly between you and the distant phone, pupils blown out and lips swollen, “Fuck, I-”

All the air leaves your lungs.

There will be no mistakes tonight. 

“Go answer it,” you whisper, deflating as you accept the interruption. The moment’s over, fading in between the lipstick marks on your wine glass and the glow of the lamps scattered throughout his living room, “It’s fine.” 

It’s not fine. It’s written plainly across his face that this is the furthest thing from fine at this moment. But duty calls; his phone is ringing, your mind is buzzing, and the moment is simply gone. 

It has to be fine. You have to be fine with it. 

“I’ll be right back,” he swears as he lifts himself up off the couch, but you know he won’t be. 

Your shirt is already back by the time he’s reached the counter, laptop already tucked safely back into your bag as he answers the call. 

“Hello?” he asks, eyes flitting over to you as he watches you gather your things, picking up the wine glass that had been yours the entire night in order to carry it over to the sink he leans against the counter next to. A bit of chatter comes from over the line, and Eddie’s entire face twists, “Am I busy? Yeah, yeah – as a matter of fact, I am.” 

Just as you sit the glass into the sink, you bring a hand to his bicep, letting it rest there selfishly. Feeling his bare skin one final time, drinking in the heat he radiates through your palm, giving yourself one last chance to memorize it. 

You’re not busy, you mouth to him with a sad smile. 

He’s not. Because there will be no mistakes tonight. 

You go to pull your hand away, prepared to somehow call an Uber or taxi, but he’s quick to wrap his fingers around your wrist just as your skin slides from his. It’s not forceful, but simply firm. Clinging with a desperation you can’t recognize. 

Stay, he mouths back, the person over the line clearly continuing to speak without Eddie paying them any mind.

You almost do. You falter and consider dropping your bag then and there. You nearly stay, wait out the phone call, sit pretty and patient until he returns to you just as he had promised. 

But he had left you with a promise of later once before, and he hadn’t kept his promise then. 

“Oh,” you whispered, disappointment gripping your lungs, “Oh, that’s fine! Go, they need you.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. You missed hearing that in person, that soft laughter in the shell of your ear over inside jokes and one too many glasses of wine. “Rockstar duties and all. We’ll talk more later?”

Later had never found its way back to the two of you all those years ago – why would it now? 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Eds,” you whisper, soft enough to guarantee whoever was on the other side of the phone call wouldn’t hear you. The fall of his face is almost enough to make you take back the words and swallow them back down. 

“Wait-” he’s not whispering, almost as though he’s forgotten about the call entirely. You can hear the silence over the line, probably in confusion, as you walk away, “Wait- No- I-”

You motion to the phone still pressed to his ear and cheek, trying to remind him that someone else can hear. 

He removes it and ends the call before you can protest.

“Eddie-” you start to scold, but he refuses to hear any of it. 

“No, no,” he sounds as though he might be begging. And you can’t tell if he’s begging you to not reprimand him, or if he’s begging you to not leave, “I don’t care. It was just Matt, he can wait till morning.” 

It doesn’t answer the question of what he wanted from you. 

“It’s getting late, anyways,” you’re still trying to detect your escape route, the longer you spend in the aftermath making your chest tighten more and more.

You can’t do this. 

You can’t stand in this room with him and pretend that it’s all okay. You can’t act as though the wine’s effects are slipping away from you and you can’t brush off the feeling of his lips across your chest. You have no patience left to act as though your lungs aren’t shriveling up in your chest, unable to get enough air when he’s too close all while being all too far away. 

It would have been a mistake, and you’re both better for the interruption. 

Eddie shakes his head, letting out a dry laugh, “We aren’t doing this again, Sugar. We aren’t going to just pretend that didn’t happen-”

“Why not?” you challenge him, “This… it’s better this way, Eddie. If we kept it up, we both would have regretted it, and it’d just be another mistake-”

“Who’s we?” he cuts you off. 

We. You, me, both of us. We’d both regret it, wouldn’t we? 

But you still didn’t regret kissing him. You still didn’t regret sitting in his lap and drinking him in, you still wouldn’t take back whatever moment was shared prior to the phone’s interruption. 

All your regrets are spoken in future tense. All the mistakes are somewhere ahead of you, your mind running to things that haven’t happened yet.

How do you know if you’d regret it? How do you know if he’d regret it?

Your hold on your bag begins to loosen, “I- Both of us. We’d both regret it.” 

“I wouldn’t regret it. I don’t think I could ever regret you.” 

This is the part you walk away. You sling your bag onto your shoulder, you tell him to have a goodnight, and you leave. You’ll see him tomorrow, and you’ll pretend this conversation never happened. 

Except you don’t.

Your bag falls to the ground, a muted crash that probably pisses off his downstairs neighbors. The toes of your shoes knock into the worn bag, kicking it to the side with more gentleness than you should be capable of right now. When he reaches out a hand to hold you, you take it. 

You let him get his hot palms back on your body. You let his lips find their way back to yours. 

You finally just let the mistake happen and take the chance on finding out if the regret is nothing more than shadows in the closet, make-believe once you turn the light back on. 

The couch isn’t the destination this time. You’re almost sad that you don’t get to admire any of his decor as he drags you down the hallway, but you also doubt there’s even a sliver of the ghost of the man holding onto you in any of it. He’s not on the walls, he’s not in the pictures; he’s right in front of you, kissing you heavily and desperately, letting his feet stumble right over yours as he finally reaches blindly for the knob of the door behind you. He’s in the rings pressing into the skin of your hips and he’s in the wavering cologne that bursts from his sheets as he carefully drops you back on a bed far too large for one man. 

He’s in the shadow hovering over you, he’s in the slide of his leg as he spreads your thighs to find home between them. He may not haunt this apartment, but he haunts you. Your body, your mind, your senses. 

Always have, always will. 

Alcohol isn’t clouding the moment anymore as each kiss is gentler, retracing the bruises already forming across your collar bones. He’s taking his time, enjoying himself, no longer rushing through the process of getting to know you again. The loss of your shirt and the unbuttoning of your jeans is done with shaking hands this time. Less sure, but far more determined. 

Your own hands are steady, though, as you undress him. You’re sure. This is your mistake to make, your mistake to regret. And maybe he had a point – maybe it is impossible for either of you to regret each other. For all the tears shed and all the nights spent cursing his name, it’s never once crossed your tongue that you wanted to erase him. You think if someone were to try and take him, take all that you two had shared together from you, that they’d be met with white knuckles and deathly screams. A rancid animal foaming at the mouth, refusing to let go of the one thing it had ever managed to sink its claws into. 

You’d forgotten just how well you know him. 

It was beyond superficial scars and childhood stories. You still remember the exact pulse point that makes him moan out with just a brush of your mouth against it. You can still find that spot above his hips that spasm when your hands grip them, encouraging him to grind down onto you. You know his body, you know his past, you know his mind. 

Words are no longer necessary as it finally happens. 

Prayers of each other’s name, ignorance in the way this entire moment was becoming too gentle for two fools rekindling. A practiced dance you once only ever dreamt of swaying to with him. 

You would have given him everything. You did give him everything. Your youth, your future, your aspirations, your daydreams of a glittering gem on your sacred finger and a list of baby names the two of you had argued over endlessly. All those things still belong to him, even now. Even as this new version of him hovers over you, lips trailing with purpose over your abdomen, making his way down to your core. 

You can’t tell if he’s a stranger when he places a hot kiss over the cotton of your underwear. You can’t tell if you ever spent two years away from him as his hands hold down your hips when they buck in response. 

“Eddie,” you beg, fingers lacing into his curls just as they had earlier, gripping onto him for dear life. You’re looking down at him between your thighs, refusing to blink on the off chance that he’ll simply vanish when you do, “Please.” 

“Please what, Sugar?” 

“Touch me,” you gasp out as his fingers toy with the waistband of your underwear, colossus course against soft skin, “Kiss me, fuck me- I just-” 

No further explanation is needed. Your wish is his command. 

Your panties are tossed to the hardwood floor at the edge of the bed as if they always belonged there. His mouth ravishes you as if this was just a nightly routine between the two of you. As if he didn’t have to second think what pace you might prefer, or when to add the first finger. Or the second. He plays you beautifully, crooking his fingers and nipping at sensitive skins and nerves alike, listening to the way you only seem to remember his name. Like you don’t remember the sound of a dial tone instead of declarations of adoration, like you don’t remember the excuses for him denying you all his attention. 

You wish you could just stay in this moment forever. Him, buried between your thighs. All hurt and all stains forgotten when he builds you up to the edge, when he murmurs against your clit about how pretty you look for him right now. 

Cheap wine soaking Halloween costumes. Hazy rooms, smokey with youthful desires and incense. Dancing in an apartment filled with boxes not yet unpacked. Whispers of something being real. Late night trips to the gas station and all the pride in your eyes as you heard his song played on public radio for the first time. The terrible waiting, the messy kisses of more teeth than lips. A simple necklace adorned with a simple ring, burning with more promises than either can comprehend, still gathering dust at the bottom of your jewelry box to this day. 

Just in case. Just in case he ever came back; just in case you ever returned. 

By the time he’s climbing back up your body, you have one foot in the past, cleaving yourself in two as you cling to him like water. 

“Look at you,” he whispers when his face is back above yours, lips still slick with you, “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?” 

You swear, for just a moment, his eyes are mirrors. And you can see that dazed look you wear, the face of a woman still trapped by her past. The face of someone who can’t let the dead stay buried. Someone you wouldn’t describe as beautiful, but Eddie would. 

You should have left. You should be regretting this. You only pull him closer. 

His boxers bunch at his ankles, your fingernails dig into his back. When you feel him press against you, the tip of his dick just barely tapping against your clit, your entire body tenses. This was it. This was the mistake you had taken responsibility for, this was the choice you’d decided was worth damnation. A simple slip up, a quick fall backwards, and you’ll be right back where you started two years ago. 

“You still want this?” he sighs into your ear, clearly feeling the way you’d froze up. 

Your breath catches for just a second. More memories, more images that cut straight through you. Every careless afternoon, every serene morning. Every haunted night. 

“Yeah,” your entire body relaxes, muscle by muscle, “Yeah, I still want this.” 

You mean more than just the sex. 

The press of your heels into his lower back is all the encouragement he needs to finally push into you. The stretch burns, but it’s welcome all the same. Just an aftereffect of years of emptiness, of failing to ever find something that could make you feel as whole as he does. 

The moan he lets out as he’s wrapped in your warmth sends shivers down your spine. You swear, laced in it, there lies a gasp of relief. A sigh of coming home after a long tour, the huff of an exhale just before he crosses the threshold of a front door and has you in his arms again. 

You don’t know when the tears started. 

But between his thrusts, between all his wanton groans and your own quivers of excitement, your cheeks turn wet. 

“Then I say let it burn.”

You can’t tell if it’s sweat or his own tears seeping into your skin as your bodies press together harder, your head thrown back in ecstasy. 

“I love you so goddamn much, it hurts. I can’t believe this is real.” 

You find your hands tugging on the roots of his curls even harder as you try to tether yourself back to him, but it’s no use. 

“When I get back, all I care about is you.” 

It all comes crashing down on both of you as his face is buried in the crook of your neck and your thighs squeeze around his hips – all the love that was there, all the love that was lost. All the love that still remains. 

“Something for you to always have as a reminder that I’ll come back to you. You’re it for me, sweetheart.”

He’d always warned you this would happen. That one day he’d come back to you. That he’d only ever come back for you. 

It doesn’t matter how deep of scratches you leave across his back, or how many hickies he paints your skin with. There will never be enough bloodshed between the two of you to wash away the truth. It’s not a mistake, it’s not something to regret. You wish it was; you wish it were so simple. No, this moment was one thing and one thing only – inevitable. 

They always did say that your life would flash before your eyes right before you die. 

And flash it does – a lifetime of love that was had and love that will never come back to you – as Eddie brings you both to your graves from the most cursed of little deaths.

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