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yandere-sins · 1 year

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The Orcas' Tale - Lyr's Story I

And here he is, our sweetest, craziest, loveliest boy ♥ Honestly, it was fun giving Lyr a bit more personality than he had in the original story, and I am also glad to have provided him with a cute little darling of his own. I hope you guys enjoy slipping into the role of a mermaid, and ehem look forward to a different kind of spice (;

Fandom: Original Content Pairings: Yandere!Orca Merman x GN!AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Non-Con Kissing/Touching/Fingering, Bondage kind of), Violence (Threats to kill/harmm reader, Sharp teeth/claws, Almost tearing off reader's jaw), Monsters/Non-Human reader, Animalistic behavior, Mention of blood/claws/sharp teeth, Hinting at death/non-con, Feeding the reader seal meat, Being caught in a net, Long post

"They just won't stop bugging! Like, I get it, Mom, bringing a human into the pod was stupid and dangerous, but it's not our fault that Nerrocan left!"

Heaving a deep sigh, Lyr looked up at the water's surface through the holes in the ceiling of the cove he had found. Light was shimmering into the mostly calm water, a few tiny fish slipping in and out of the cave-like structure while he rested on his back, ignoring any wildlife of the ocean as he had no interest in small fry. They didn't get close enough to be caught, wary of the superior predators of the sea, who, unbeknownst to anyone's eyes, looked more like friends hanging out than what they really were—captor and captive.

Despite his annoyance and loud complaining, he looked tired. You had witnessed many a mood of his ever since he decided to hide you away for his own enjoyment, but as of late, every time Lyr visited you, he looked more exhausted than the last. As usual, his eyes were dull, and his dorsal fin collapsed. For an orca in his best years, he looked like he'd been dragged through the blue hell, but it invoked no sympathy inside you. All you could do was listen and observe, but knowing he was the merman responsible for your misery, you felt no pity for your clearly mentally unstable captor. Reaching to his left, Lyr picked another piece of meat from the seal carcass he had hunted, slipping the food into his mouth before continuing his rant.

"Who'd have known that guy had it in him. Can't help but respect him getting the fuck out of the pod, and I'm glad I don't have to see his wannabe goody two-fin face anymore. It's been getting harder to put him in his place with how aggressive he suddenly got."

"Won't they miss him?"

Lyr stopped chewing, his head falling to the side, facing you. Muddy purple eyes sprang to life, reflecting the light as brilliant as rare corals. With one big gulp, he devoured what had been left of his meal, a toothy grin spreading over his lips. "Look who decided to talk! Who's gonna miss him? His mommy? Sure. It's not like she has a dozen more just like him."

For a moment, you held his stare, watched the grin stretch wider, and twisted his expression into a grimace before you lowered your eyes, settling on drawing swirls into the sand. It wasn't like you wanted to have a conversation with him, but listening day in and day out to his crazy rambles and complaints was just as bovine as engaging with the madman.

"That's not very nice. I'm sure his mom loves them all equally. You've got a big family, after all."

"Nah," he retorted, shaking his head. Picking out a bone from the seal's body, he used it as a toothpick, cleaning out the sharp-edged teeth he loved flashing you. "Orcas aren't like yours. We don't love each other just because we share the same blood or come from the same mother. Either you're useful to the pod and do what you're told, or you're at the very bottom of the food chain. I could never be the same as Krill, no matter how hard I tried. He was always Mom's favorite, so now I just don't try anymore. It doesn't even matter to them where I am, but it suits me. Now I got a lot more time to spend with ya!"

Now it was your time to grimace while Lyr flopped onto his side and closer to you, surely noticing the tension growing in your body as you felt appalled by the ever-closing distance. He tossed the bone carelessly into the water while your movements abruptly stopped. You wished it was as easy as the flap of your fin to get away from him, but you were rendered helpless to his touch, unable to get away from his pointed finger dragging over your forearm, his claw teasing your softer skin. He didn't just have the advantage of size, but you knew that no matter how haggard he might appear, you'd be no match against him in a scuffle. Much less now that you were trapped.

And your growling stomach wasn't helping.

While you let out an exasperated groan, Lyr laughed loudly about your misery, finding your dependency on him to not starve hilarious. As much as you despised being at his mercy, you had no choice but to humor him if you wanted to survive, even when he enjoyed your reluctant behavior so much that he held his stomach aching from laughter.

"You could have just told me you're hungry!" he teased, grinning from ear to ear at you while you gave him an ashamed glare, staying silent as a stone in your spot, belly-down in the sand. "I don't mind sharing, ya know? There's still so much of this yummy seal left, it would be a shame to give it to the fish. You know what you gotta do to earn it, right?"

Gritting your teeth, you watched the smugness wash over his expression as he sent you into yet another predicament. You even considered eating a heap of sand instead of bowing to his will. As if being trapped wasn't enough, he just had to exploit you at every chance he got, and you hated how easily your survival instinct made these reckless decisions for you, which he'd never let you live down. The hole in your stomach didn't get any smaller. Lyr's last visit had been a few days already, and you were in no condition to hunt efficiently for yourself. So aside from small, stupid fish that came too close to you, you hadn't eaten outside of his visits, and it was starting to show.

You knew what you had to do. Unfortunately.

No matter how much your brain screamed at you not to, your body knew it instinctively, propping itself onto your forearms while you sighed inwardly, feeling defeated by your needs. Moving was the hardest part about being caught in a net. It was an unusual heavy net with clunky weights that had slung around your fin and lower body, dragging you to the ground where Lyr had found you. Even he had been surprised by the sturdiness of this net when he first inspected it but quickly had taken advantage of the situation, dragging you to this much more hidden place and out of plain sight so he had you all to himself. At least he didn't kill you; that's what you told yourself. But death was more merciful than Lyr, that much you knew by now.

He had no problem being patient when it meant watching you struggle as you dragged yourself toward him. Lyr didn't even mind you digging your meager claws into his skin when you grabbed onto him, using his body to support yourself while you lifted off the ground, close enough to feel his watery breath ghost against your face. Placing your lips over his, you flinched away in reluctance before forcing yourself to keep going, counting to three this time before twisting your head to the side.

Lyr hummed, sounding dissatisfied as you felt his hand brush up your spine. Nesting his palm at the nape of your neck, you refused to look forward again until he twisted his own head to find your lips, his much sharper, much more dangerous claws only curling into place the second he got what he wanted. Now, with an appreciative chortle, he relished in stealing another kiss, tongue swiping over your pursed lips until he found a hole in your defense, worming into your mouth.

You were no stranger when it came to mating habits, but compared to your fellow dolphins, Lyr was surprisingly gentle. He relished in your defiance but seemed to enjoy enticing little moans and gasps from you just as much. His tongue was a choking hazard in a mouth that wasn't fit to house it. Though you had gills, you could barely concentrate on breathing while you fought against him as best as you could. Still, he took his sweet time exploring every inch, letting air flow out of his mouth and into yours, never not considering you while doing what he wanted. He even softened his hold on you, rubbing his palms down your back in a spine-tingling motion when you stopped struggling against him. It was almost like he was rewarding you for good behavior, and it was sickeningly pleasurable.

But the taste of flesh and blood lingering on his tongue made your stomach growl, your body eagerly moving towards him, hoping to find food. All you gained was a chuckle before he nicked your lower lip with his sharp teeth in warning. Your fangs probably wouldn't be able to bite through his thick tongue, but despite this weird obsession he had with you, he was almost more wary of you than you of him. It seemed like he could never cut himself loose completely despite having nothing to fear from an easy target like you. He seemed so relaxed and unbothered whenever he visited you, but it was almost as if he was plagued by invisible ghosts whispering into his ears.

Despite his warning, you found his arms wrapping around your body, pulling you on top of him before you two rolled over to the other side, Lyr resting you gently down in the sand. He didn't care that the net that had trapped you to the ocean floor also got dragged over his tail, unbothered by possibly getting stuck like you were. Perhaps he simply didn't mind that thought as much as you did. To be fair, considering he was much stronger and the material had yet to wrap around and get stuck on his fins like it had with yours, it posed no threat to the orca. And yet, it was infuriating to you, who wanted nothing more than to swim away and reunite with your own kind.

Propping his arm in the sand next to your head, he looked down at you with a satisfied smile and a mischievous spark in his eyes but reached over you, grabbing a piece of seal meat. He brought it up to your lips, dabbing it against them, though you refused to open for him. "I can feed myself just fine," you reminded him, wiggling your hands in the air to demonstrate your ability to hold things before trying to take the food from him.

"Now, don't be ungrateful, or I'll bring you a turtle shell to gnaw on next time."

You could feel your face contort in disgust at his suggestion, reluctantly parting your lips to nib at the food dangling in front of your face. Once you had a taste of meat, your body couldn't resist, gobbling up every last bite hungrily while Lyr kept providing it for you with a smile. If he wasn't fast enough, your teeth would drag over his fingers, but he wouldn't even flinch or scold you, his fin slapping against the sand instead, almost as if he enjoyed your nibbles.

Seal wasn't your preferred food, but in times of food scarcity—like it has ever since getting holed up with Lyr—it was as good as any. The rest of the carcass was devoured faster than your excited stomach wanted, and you still didn't feel satisfied after eating every last piece. Had you been free, you'd have gone hunt for more without a moment of rest. But the gnawing hunger had subsided at least, and if Lyr came back again soon, you'd at least not have to endure it for too long until the next meal.

Pausing your thoughts, you realized you had just longed for Lyr to provide for you again soon, immediately turning the hunger into nausea as you pondered on it.

You were too quiet, too long for his taste as he sought out your lips again after your meal. Brushing his thumb over them, your instinct mistook his finger for more food. You could barely stop yourself from biting into his gnarly claw as the urge to eat won over again. However, your mouth was open long enough as realization dawned on you of what you were doing, for him to cup your face instead, turning it slightly to him so his tongue could lick over your lips and dip in again. Lyr hummed merrily as he tasted the seal on you, unashamed, unbothered by you struggling to keep him out, fingers wrapping around his throat—unsuccessful in deterring him. He was waiting for your breath to run out before taking the chance to deepen the kiss again, ever so patient with you.

"I think I get it now," he mumbled, breaking the kiss before leaving some more superficial brushes of his lips against yours. "Nerrocan was onto something. We just didn't know it."

"Why didn't you go with him then?" you mumbled back, turning your face away to avoid any more unwanted affection, even if it meant resting it in his palm.

To your surprise, Lyr scoffed loudly, and you flinched away as you could feel his mood shift. His palm didn't grow stiff and rigid. However, you still forced yourself away from it, too afraid he might—possibly on accident, but much more likely intentionally—rake his claws over your face, leaving wounds deep and painful. It was useless, however, as he used the same hand to collect your floating hair instead, forcing you to look at him while his gaze drilled into you with fury swirling in his eyes.

"Listen, I might not remember how we got to that place, but I know all the shit they did to us!"

You whimpered as he pulled your hair back, your neck struggling to keep up with his demands from your position. Lyr took a sharp breath, pausing the angry flashing of his fangs as he watched you cowering in front of him, ever so slightly calming down at the sight of fear flashing in your eyes. You hated him when he mocked you and also when he was delighted in your suffering. But you hated his anger more, his haggard body still crushing and his fangs and claws sharp despite whatever he went through. One bite into your throat, and you were a goner, especially with how exposed the soft flesh was to him now.

"I'll never go back there! Never! They cut us open, prod inside us with their disgusting hands, and inject strange fluids into me! They… They changed us. Changed me. And now I don't even know–"

His hand was trembling in your hair as he let out a shuddering breath. You caught his eyes for only a split second, watching the brilliant purple turn into mushy darkness. Lyr shook his head as if confused while his voice trailed off, his free hand rising as he hid his face from you for a moment. You weren't sure if you were supposed to say anything, and even if, what could you say to that? You had no idea what he's been through, and even though you had your fair share of struggles in your life, you never experienced something quite as dramatic as he described. Then again, why would you try to comfort him? Lyr was perfectly able to help you in your time of need but had refused cutting the net for you again and again. Why would you give him kindness if he refused to do the same for you?

Being free of his attention, your eyes fell lower on his body. Just shy of where your tail rested over his. With his tail flipped over, you had a clear view of his collapsed dorsal fin, a pitiful sight for any creature like you. It made you think that something was wrong with him in the first place, as this was an unusual sight on any of your kinds. If what he said was true, maybe this experience had done this to him, understandably so, as it sounded awful. You couldn't bring yourself not to pity him despite your negative feelings towards him.

Next to you, Lyr took a deep breath, pushing his short hair out of his face before he searched for your gaze. Desperately. Needy. Somewhere to ground him. You weren't sure what you saw in the darkened violet, but his features looked drained of vitality, as if the moment of silence had exhausted him completely. It made him look… vulnerable. But then he smiled again, his eyes lit up, and the strange feelings swirling in his irises were covered by excitement as he found yours, soaking in the sight before him.

"I really do get it now," he admitted, grin parting his lips, revealing his protruding upper left fang, the sharpest of them all. "I was so confused about the strange looks Nerrocan gave the human, but I realize I've been the same with ya—whatever it means. I keep coming back here just to see you. I want to stay right here with you, forever. Just us two. I'll hunt for us and make this cave pretty. Whatcha think, lil' dolphin?"

"N-No, I don't think that will work," you mumbled, averting your eyes again as his gaze became too intense to keep up the eye contact. He seemed to drill into you as if to excavate your soul and lay it bare for him to tease and enjoy. You didn't like it one bit when he looked at you so intensely.

You could tell by now that he was working himself into another ramble, but you didn't like how much it focused around you. Usually, he was complaining about his situation in his pod and how much his mom hounded him with expectations. Lately, his rants focused more on the human and Nerrocan and the waves their arrival and disappearance caused in their family. But while he was always strange when it came to you, being the sole focus of his attention felt uncomfortable.

"I'm not sure I understand, but my pod is probably searching for me, and I've been away for so long already. They probably miss me terribly! If- If only I could get the net off, I wouldn't have to bother you at all! I'd be gone before you know it, and you wouldn't have to look after me! I'd be fine! Maybe you can try cutting it again with your claws, or… or maybe--"

Lifting your torso from the ground, you grabbed the net at its highest point, tugging at it and trying to loosen it up. You realized it was you who was rambling this time, but the conversation had taken a turn that you didn't want to make reality at all cost. You couldn't imagine yourself being this guy's pretty little cave warmer for all eternity, preferring the roughness of your own kind over his madness. Orcas weren't known to be gentle housemakers, no matter how much Lyr tried to sell it to you. Not even when he handled you gently, yet never did what you wanted.

However, you were surprised when he reached down to the net, yanking at it with you. A yelp escaped you as he pulled your tail over his, the net cutting into your flesh painfully as he twisted and pulled until you had to fold up your tail, getting more and more caught. Nets usually weren't as much of a problem to sirens, but this one was sturdier and heavier than any fishing net you had encountered in your long life.

So when Lyr caught your hands in it, you began to panic.

"Wait! I'm getting wrapped up in it! Please stop, this isn't helping!" Your plea was ignored as Lyr slung the grating material over your wrists a few more times, ignoring your thrashing and panic with the calm of someone who had all the time in the world. Who had nothing to fear, especially not you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to make him understand you wanted to get out of the net and not strung up in it more until he was done messing with you, flipping you over and pulling you close against him.

"That's not what I meant," you sobbed as he rested his head on top of yours, only cushioned by the arm he lent you as a headrest.

"Isn't this so much better?" he asked, feigning innocence. But you couldn't believe his audacity to make you even more miserable. It was as if he wanted to make you as miserable as he was. "This way, you can't leave without my help. And I doubt your little pod will find you here."

"I just want to go home," you mumbled, anger slowly overtaking as the panic subsided. Your hands were bound tightly, your fin being the one hurting when you tried to lift them and vice versa. You felt truly trapped, and that made you angry rather than sad. It was strange, considering how, just a few minutes ago, you had almost pitied this male, but now, all you felt was rage.

"It's your home, now. Our home. We'll live here, unbothered by others. Just the two of us."

"It's not my home! Let me go!" you snapped, lips pulled back in a snarl. Dolphins were by far not the scariest predators, but your teeth were sharp and threatening as well!

Or so you thought.

Lyr laughed at your display of a threat, seemingly amused that you were still fighting him. Without warning, he raised his hand to your face, squeezing both sides of your jaw until the pressure forced you to open it, and stuck his pointer and middle finger inside. He only needed these two to press your tongue down, your mouth wide agape with his claws scarily close to the back of your throat. You tried to close your jaw, bite down until he'd retract his hand, but Lyr didn't care. He didn't even mind your teeth digging into his flesh, leaving cute little cuts against his slick skin.

"Careful, lil' dolphin. You're not in a position to make such scary demands of me, don't you know that already? I could kill ya."

Unafraid of getting hurt, the pressure on your lower jaw increased, fingers purposely impaling themselves on your teeth while pain made you jolt as you felt your jaw dislodging slowly. You wiggled your trapped body, gurgling against his fingers before finally looking up at him as best as possible from your position, noticing the smug grin on his face.

"I won't, of course."

Pulling his fingers out of your mouth, dragging out the motion until the last moment, you coughed, the taste of his blood on your tongue. There was no time to recover as Lyr nuzzled his face into the side of yours, oblivious to the thrumming in your jaw as you tried to relax it while the blood flow resumed.

"You're too much fun alive, so I won't kill you," he admitted, grabbing your hands that rested against your chest and pulling them down, elevating some of the strain on your tail, and you finally breathed out. "But if you want to get rid of the net, maybe we can find a way to make this even more fun?"

You felt his lips sink to your cheek, your jawline, then trailing down your neck. A kiss for every one of your gills. The water around you was gentle and warm, but at that moment, it was like jumping into the ice-cold ocean after sunbathing on the surface, shocking and shivering through every bone of yours.

While the arm your head rested on wrapped around your collarbones, holding on to your shoulder, the other hand started to wander lower. His fingers played around with the net, cutting through some of the squares until he could stick his hand through it, placing his palm on your stomach before sinking it dangerously low and pulling your hands down with it. So you wouldn't be able to grasp his arm on top, trying to make him stop as Lyr nibbled on your earlobe, the protruding fang drawing blood that he licked up without hesitation.

"Stop that!" you complained as his touch grew uncomfortably intimate, the pain in your jaw reverberating as you spoke. It had long dawned on you what his definition of 'fun' was, but you weren't as naive as to believe he'd actually stick to his word and cut you loose after getting what he wanted. It was better not to risk it than risk it for nothing. Your kind wasn't known to be gentle to their chosen lovers, but you never thought about mating with an orca. It wasn't normal! Wasn't what you were made to do! And if you were to survive it… you didn't want to think of the carnage that all of him would leave behind on your body.

If his size was any indication, you were sure you couldn't take him without getting absolutely ruined in the process—and not the pleasurable kind of destroyed. More the ripped apart and bleeding out type.

His hand found your slit, fingertip brushing lightly yet incessantly over it, leaving a tingling trail in its wake. You whimpered, ashamedly so, but instead of the expected mockery, you felt his chest rumble, a purr reaching your ears. It was soothing, relaxing, his body warming you from behind even as you desperately tried to deny feeling anything from his touch.

But Lyr wasn't stingy with his surprises.

A chirp so oddly familiar resounded behind you, yet you were sure you had never heard that voice before. It took you a moment of complete stillness to realize it had been Lyr making that sound, yet it wasn't orca. It was dolphin. "How did you…?" you gasped, ignoring his inquisitive fingers prodding at your entrance, begging to be let in without having to use force.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, lil' dolphin," he hummed, imitating some more whistles and clicks that were perfect and comforting, like the calls of your pod, yet were spoken by an uncanny voice. You felt the tears well up in our eyes again, as you couldn't help but gasp, following it with a moan, his finger slipping into you, teasing the soft, warm flesh awaiting him there. Lyr let out an appreciative sound that made your core clench with desire, all praise and all dolphin for letting him in.

"You don't even like me," you gasped, hands wringing in the net. You were completely and utterly caught in this trap, and he had free range to your body while slowly gaining access to your very soul by imitating your own kind's calls of desire and adoration. Lyr's mouth pulled taut in a big grin as he felt you unwillingly relax and shudder in his arms, your tail buckling into his hand. You looked up to see the madness dance with satisfaction and need in his eyes before he leaned down to kiss you.

"That's where you're wrong, lil' dolphin," he chuckled, kissing you one more time, long and with relish, his fingers playing with you, adding one after the other as you loosened up to him, exploring the depths not meant for an orca.

"I like you very, very much."

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fettuccin-e · 1 year

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The Wonderful Way Things Change

A/N: hi there everyone... shamefully, very shamefully, I have not posted anything original since i think like february. it was an unplanned hiatus! promise it was completely unplanned, this semester just really kicked my ass lol. BUT HERE WE ARE! with matt smut of course how could I not because he is the loml so please enjoy! love you!

Description: Based off this ask, and can be read as a loose sequel to this (my first ever fanfic oh boy oh boy). In which Foggy calls you to check in on Matt, and the sight of your boyfriend all disheveled in a suit is making you a tad desperate. Thankfully, neither of you have the self-control to keep your hands to yourselves.

Tags: Matt Murdock x Reader, afab!fem!reader, no use of y/n, smut like so much smut who do you think I am, fucking Matty in a suit, oral (f!recieving), unprotected piv (pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids) (w/c: 2.5K)

Yours and Matt’s relationship is new, somewhat, but you both know that it’s been a long time coming. It’s only been a few weeks since he finally kissed you for the first time, since he healed your poor, pining heart. It’s not like other relationships you’ve had, with the talking stage at the beginning, where you’re still asking each other about your childhoods, favorite movies, and songs. You and Matt already know everything about each other.

He knows about your shitty job that you hate but manages to pay the bills. He knows all about your childhood, all of your hopes and dreams. Up until a few weeks ago, the only secret you’d kept from him was your frankly ridiculous crush on him.

But you know that it’s the same way for him. You already know about Daredevil, and to Matt’s unending surprise, you accept him, love him for who he is. You don’t want him to give up either side of himself; you’re happy to just have him. Matt is still trying to get used to the feeling of actually having you, instead of just being by your side, letting you slip through his fingers.

Up until a few weeks ago, Matt had resigned himself to only being your friend. The friendship he’d found in you at Columbia would remain just that. Unbeknownst to him, you’d resigned yourself the exact same way. But a misunderstanding and a frustrated and ridiculously dramatic love confession later, you’d finally kissed him like he’d only dreamed of. You’d allowed him to touch you like he’d always wanted, and Matt could swear that he’s never felt anything softer, never tasted anything sweeter than you.

So the relationship is new, but it also feels like you and Matt have just been waiting, settling into routines like you’ve been together for years. You know how Matt is, how he’ll bury himself into cases and recordings and court documents, searching for that one bit of evidence that proves his client is innocent. He sends Foggy and Karen home on nights like these, insisting that they need to sleep, that they work too hard as is.

“He’s gonna be there for hours,” Foggy tells you over the phone. “You’ve gotta get him out of there or he’s going to collapse.” You laugh, pulling on your coat and stepping out of Matt’s apartment.

Ever since you had both confessed your feelings for each other, and Matt had finally, finally taken you to bed, you had more or less moved in. It hadn’t been intentional, nor had Matt officially asked you, but the one time you had broached the subject of maybe sleeping at your own apartment, Matt’s arms had wrapped around you, holding you to him while he pressed desperate kisses all over your face and neck, telling you that his apartment was so cold without you there.

“C’mon, sweetheart, haven’t we spent more than enough time apart?” he had murmured, and you had agreed.

“Yeah, alright Fog, I’m heading over there now. I’ll make sure you have a well-rested partner by tomorrow,” you giggle into the phone, and you laughed even harder at Foggy’s genuine sigh of relief.

“Christ, how did Nelson, Murdock and Page survive without you and Matt together?”

“It’s truly a mystery, Foggy,” you tease, and Foggy laughs with you. He keeps you on the phone the entire walk to their office building, filling you in on the cases he, Karen, and Matt are working on. You could talk to Foggy for hours, really, but he lets you go as you walk up the steps to their offices. With a promise to talk soon, maybe take a trip to Josie’s, you hang up, shoving your phone into your coat pocket.

You can hear the recording Matt is listening to through the door to his office, some judge droning on and on. You enter the room quietly, heart beating wildly at Matt in his sharp suit, without his glasses, hair mussed from his fingers running through it the way they usually do when he’s working through a case. You watch as a smile blooms across his pretty lips, his eyes lifting to your direction as he pauses the recording.

“Hi, baby,” he says, and his sheer beauty in that moment nearly brings you to your knees. This man, with his hair sticking up in every direction, his tie slightly loosened at his chest, big brown eyes and wide smile is yours. All yours. You can’t help how your heart beats even harder at the thought.

You watch his grin meld into a knowing smirk as he listens to the quick pattering of your heartbeat. “Something got you worked up, sweetheart?”

You hum, crossing the room to where he sits in his office chair. “Oh, you know,” you drawl, trying to keep your voice coy and light, even though you know that your heart is giving away your sudden desperation for the man in front of you. “I’m just thinking about all of the things I get to do now.”

“To me?” He’s playing coy too, trying to goad you.

“Always to you, Matty,” you giggle, and he chuckles in return. You swing a leg over his lap, straddling him and relishing in how his chuckle morphs into a choked gasp.

“What- What kinds of things, gorgeous?” his voice is breathier now, beautifully affected by your actions.

“Just how I can do things like this,” you wrap your hand into his tie, tugging him towards your mouth. “And things like this-” you breathe over his mouth, before capturing his pretty, enticing lips with your own.

Matt groans into the kiss, smoothing his hands over your hips before reaching behind you to grab your ass in his big, thick hands, tugging you further up his lap. Your clothed pussy rests just over the bulge of his cock through his slacks, and you can feel it thickening beneath you.

“And you call me worked up, Matty?” you murmur against his mouth, wiggling in his lap and pulling a soft moan from his lips.

“When my gorgeous girlfriend walks into my office, smelling like my apartment and so fucking soft on top of me,” he says, squeezing your ass again, “how can you expect me to be calm, baby?”

Your stomach bursts into butterflies at the title. You’re his girlfriend. He’s your boyfriend. It feels so very juvenile, like you’re twenty years old again and still trying to get through calculus class. Maybe it’s because you’ve been waiting that long. Waiting for him, since you first met him and Foggy at Columbia. It feels so far away now, so different, and yet, you still burn bright and warm with Matt’s attention on you. Calling you his girlfriend.

He shifts his hips under yours, the bulge of his thick cock against your pussy impossible to ignore, and you whine, just barely, but Matt hears. Of course he does.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “So fucking needy.” He lurches forward again to press his lips to yours, licking into your mouth.

“Please, Matty,” you whisper, and he groans into your mouth all over again. He doesn’t separate his mouth from yours as he lifts you against him, using a hand to brush the cumbersome documents and files off the desk behind you, before laying you softly against it, running his hands over your waist and kissing you like you’re something precious.

But you are, Matt knows that you are the most precious thing in the fucking world. And you want him. Matt can hardly believe it sometimes; he still sometimes thinks he’s dreaming when he feels you in the morning, pressed tight against him, your heart calm and steady with sleep.

He licks into your mouth like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, and what a way to go. He could stay in this moment forever, kissing you while your hands tangle into his hair. But your sexy little whines are echoing around him, your hips moving in desperate little circles against the aching bulge in his slacks.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he whispers, and you just whine louder. It’s a nearly painful thing, taking his lips from yours, but he can fucking smell your arousal, and the need to dive between your thighs is suddenly too much for him to handle.

You kind of want to cry when Matt breaks your kiss, but your mourning at the loss of his lips is quickly cut short by his thick, calloused hands pushing your skirt up your thighs, leaving the material to bunch around your waist. He nudges his nose against your clit through your panties, taking a deep breath in through his nose, savoring it, and you nearly black out.

“Oh- oh my God,” you stutter, and Matt smirks in that ridiculously cocky way you hate that you love.

“I mean, I go by Matt, but if you want to call me God-” Matt starts, tugging your panties down your legs.

“Matthew Michael Murdock, I swear-” You want to continue, you really do, but it’s really hard to keep your train of thought when Matt is leaning down and licking a long stripe up your soaked pussy, swirling around your clit and making your hips buck up uncontrollably. He quickly braces a forearm over your twitching body, holding you still with his strength while he eats your pretty cunt.

“So fucking wet for me, gorgeous,” he mutters between your thighs, the vibrations feeling like shockwaves up your spine. “So pretty, baby, could’ve been eating this pretty cunt since college.”

You can barely form a sentence, only able to utter out whines of Matt, Matt Matt, between desperate moans as he licks into you. You can feel him grinning into your cunt, knowing he’s driving you fucking crazy, before he’s drawing up to capture your throbbing clit into his mouth and sucks. He brings his free hand up to sink a thick finger into your needy entrance, crooking it up and pressing into a spot inside that makes white creep into the edges of your vision. He just sucks and sucks, swirling his tongue around our achy clit and playing with you like a toy.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, unexpected and brutal, and you would have thrashed off the desk if it weren’t for Matt’s strong arms holding you steady. He carries you through it, licking at you softly while he keeps his finger inside, giving your pussy something to clutch onto. As your hips finally stop twitching, Matt rises, leaning over you again, and you can’t help but tug at his tie again, dragging his mouth to yours, uncaring of the taste of your pussy covering his lips.

“Please fuck me, Matty, oh god, please. Need you in me, baby,” you whine, and you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed at how needy you sound. Matt groans, sounding just as desperate as he licks into your mouth. He takes his hands from your body to reach down, undoing his belt and slacks just enough to tug his aching cock out. He’s so hard it’s nearly painful, the head sticky and red and throbbing with the need to fuck you. To claim you.

You wrap your arms over his back, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as he sinks into your sensitive pussy. As he finally bottoms out, you lean back to look at him, at his big eyes staring just off your face, his mouth slightly agape.

“I thought about this, y’know,” you whisper, your nails digging into his back as he presses just a bit deeper inside. “Every time I brought you guys lunch, I-” you moan softly as Matt thrusts, hard and so fucking deep you swear you swear you can feel him in your guts. “I thought about you, fucking me on this desk, in-in this fucking suit, god, Matt.”

“Shit, baby,” he grunts, rocking into you so hard the desk rattles beneath you. You can barely pay attention to it, not when the tip of Matt’s thick cock is grinding into the spot inside you that makes you scream, your nails digging into the soft fabric covering his back. “I thought about you too, god, you have no idea, sweetheart.” You can only whine in response as he continues, “You’d bring us all lunch, wearing your little uniform, fuck, with that pretty skirt and those heels.”

Matt’s hands tighten over your hips, forcing you to meet him thrust for thrust, and it’s so fucking good. You can’t manage to answer him through your desperate whines of his name and choked moans as his thick cock stretches you out for him, but Matt’s still talking. You don’t know if he can stop.

“I could hear your thighs brushing together under that tight fucking skirt, your heels clicking up the hall, and all I could think about was ruining you. Ripping that skirt off you and making you beg for my cock,” he grunts, driving desperately into your soaked pussy. Your head is swimming, drowning in Matt’s words, his scent, his cock.

“Now I can, baby,” he grunts, voice breaking on a choked moan. “I can fuck you just how I’ve wanted, make this pretty pussy soak my cock. Can wake up to you in my bed, fuck you whenever I want, whenever you want, baby, fuck I’m yours. You hear me, angel? I’m yours.” Matt can feel your pussy fluttering desperately around his cock, and snakes a hand between your bodies to press a thumb over your clit.

He leans over you, his tie loose and dangling over your face as he growls, “and you’re mine. Mine.”

And you’re gone, pussy tightening like a vice around Matt’s thick cock, screaming his name. Little tears escape your eyes, dripping down your cheeks as Matt groans your name in return, hips stuttering into yours and flooding your overwhelmed pussy with his cum. You can hear him, just barely, through the roar of blood in your ears as he whispers, “So good, baby, so perfect. Love you so much, so much, you have no idea. I love you, loved you for so fucking long, angel.”

You bring your hands up to tangle your fingers into his soft hair, bringing him to your lips, whispering a soft “I love you so much, Matty,” in return before meeting him in a soft kiss. His smile against your mouth is blinding, endlessly joyful, and slightly delirious.

He’s still buried inside you a few minutes later, when you finally whisper, “I’m not sure this is what Foggy had in mind when he sent me over here.”

“If this is what Foggy had in mind, I might have to send him a fruit basket, or buy him a round,” Matt chuckles, and you smack him lightly on the shoulder before you’re laughing too. Matt smiles, unable to believe that you’re his, before he cuts your giggling off with a loving kiss.

#hey I'm back #with daredevil smut #what else did you expect #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock smut #daredevil x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil smut #daredevil fanfiction

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williamsracinggf · 7 months

Text

you don't go to parties * vrau

what would life be like if they'd never resolved their issues after their crash in montreal?

word count: 1.8k

notes: hi posting on here again bc the lack of applause is kinda driving me crazy idk sue me i guess

in case you're not aware, disneyprincemuke got shadowbanned and i reFUUUUUSE to not be the centre of attention when i poured my whole pussy into a fic so here i am using my main to post </3 (i live for the applause)

(series masterlist) | (📂 in every other life)

she looks around the bar, heart pounding in her head as she tries to sift out for a familiar face in the crowd of the club. her face and name are plastered on every single screen of the bar, as per max’s drunken request when he got here before she could. apparently, winning your first championship doesn’t grant you the immunity to escape media commitments; it actually gives you more. especially when you’re the first woman, and you’ve set the new record as the youngest driver to ever win it.

everyone she loves and wants to celebrate with is here in this club with her right now, except the one person she prayed and hoped would show up for her.

realistically, she should be happy. in fact, she should be ecstatic that she’s finally managed to prove all of the doubters wrong. but her heart is heavy and she’s got tears in her eyes as she continually looks around with hope that the person she wants to be here, changed his mind. but no.

she’s walked about 3 rounds in the club, went high and low searching for the familiarity that his company brought her. alas, he is nowhere to be found.

she didn’t want to believe sebastian at first when he told her that he saw logan leaving the paddocks shortly after the evening was over for him. and he knew that for a fact because the american had bid him a cheerful goodbye before leaving the paddocks with his girlfriend.

“why are you all alone here, world champ?” max hums, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. he pulls her into his side and presses a kiss on her temple as he guides her through the crowd around them. “you’re supposed to be with us celebrating — not hanging out here by yourself. everyone’s been waiting for you at the vip area.”

she looks up at him, lips turned down into a frown as she follows him willingly. she hesitates asking her question — they’ve been over this several times since it had blown up in her face — but she does, anyway. she takes a deep breath and cranes her neck back to look at logan. “have you seen logan anywhere?”

“oh.” max stops in the crowd, earning them a couple of curses from intoxicated clubgoers. “you’re looking for logan.”

max isn’t saying that he’s upset to hear the question. although, if anyone were to ask him, he’d prefer not to discuss this right now on one of the most important nights of her life. plus, they’ve talked about logan over and over.

“yeah. i haven’t see him at all since we stood on the podium tonight,” she says softly in a shakey voice. “have you seen him?”

she saw him very briefly as she was presented with the race trophy. she caught his gaze as he watched from the crowd below, hovering not too far away from the crowd that had formed, his jaw clenched and his arms folded over his chest. she tried to smile at him, but the older man simply turned and walked away before she could.

she tried searching for him in the paddocks, but she couldn’t catch up to him the one time she saw him. a reporter had stopped her before she could make a run after him.

max presses his lips together and looks down at her. should he just tell her the truth? but something tells him that she already knows that logan isn’t in attendance tonight. perhaps sebastian told her and she just needs another person to find reason with? “mate…”

she laughs dryly, immediately wiping the tear that’s fallen out of her eyes. “yeah. okay, let’s just go.”

she pushes max away slightly and starts walking back in the direction they were heading originally. she doesn’t know why she’s still so upset over it. the season has come and gone without logan’s friendship — that’s about 5 long months of attempting to get over their downfall.

“mate, come on,” max sighs, pulling her back into him. “you can’t keep dwelling over it, you know? you approached him and he simply didn’t want to be friends anymore. you did what you could.”

perhaps max is right. to an extent, she thinks. she will tell you that you are right to an extent when you bring up the fact to her — the fact that she did eventually tried reaching out to logan after she put her pride aside and apologised to him.

“i could have done more,” she says firmly, grabbing max’s arm to tear his grip from her. “i shouldn’t have been so stupid in canada. i wound up fucking winning the championship, anyway.”

max shakes his head. it seems that no one can get through to her. it’s been 5 months since the incident where they crashed out in montreal and when she fell out with logan. he never thought that there would be another falling out as bad as this in the sport.

when it first happened, sebastian had tried to talk the girl out of her anger. she was insistent, for a week after the crash, that she was right and logan’s wrong; that logan should be the one apologising to her. he desperately scraped at what he could to get her to talk to him, knowing how bad it’s gotten — she didn’t even bother heading back to their shared apartment after that weekend, she stayed in her parent’s home for the next week after the canadian grandprix.

mark had also tried stepping in to talk her out of it, but nothing the australian said to her ever stuck. oscar had finally stepped forward as well, eventually, to try and get his best friends to make up. even he wasn’t enough of a bargaining chip.

and then the most unexpected duo decided to come together, much to their own dismay, to try and talk to her. lewis and nico spoke to her together and snapped her out of her blind anger. she would wind up showing up to their apartment with an apology and 2 tubs of ice cream.

only to find out that logan had already moved out over the 2-week break without saying anything to anyone.

she tried reaching out and approaching logan in the paddocks thereafter, but the older man was simply not interested in rekindling the friendship. he would be civil with her when he had to, but overall, he would avoid her like they hadn’t spent the past half of their lives under the same household and growing up together.

as hard as it was for her, imagine how difficult it was for oscar to be in the middle of all that. it had gotten increasingly difficult to manage hanging out with either. when he had taken a step back to reflect and think about it, logan realistically needed him more than she did.

so when she thought she’d only lost one best friend, she’d unknowingly lost two at the time.

but she didn’t lose oscar the same way she lost logan. while oscar kept some distance from her, choosing logan’s plans over hers and talking to her less, his way of going about it hurt her more than logan’s disappearance from her life ever did.

it’s like he was there, but not there.

which is why it’s a shock that oscar stayed in the paddocks for her after she cleaned herself from the champagne showers with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

at that point, she hasn’t hung out with oscar since their weekend in barcelona for their race, so she didn’t ask any questions. she just left the paddocks with oscar and mick, trying to brush off the odd and uncomfortable feeling that would rise up whenever she remembered the state of their friendship. but what’s important was that oscar showed up for her again when she needed him.

she just wishes logan would come out and do the same.

she stumbles forward as a body hits her shoulder on accident. “oh!” oscar screams with a smile. he slings his arm around her shoulder. “we were looking for you, mate! we’re gonna order the house special for the world champion!”

it hurt oscar to distance himself from her — he didn’t only lose her when he did that, he also lost blythe, ciara and dalton in the process.

while the 3 younger siblings understood and kept their distance as well after the fight, he couldn’t help but feel empty at the way they were so good at doing that out of respect for their older sister.

he just wishes it hadn’t gotten to this point. he missed her, really, but he couldn’t just leave logan’s side. she had more people supporting her than logan did when they were in the paddocks.

he would only catch glimpses of her life on her instagram and sometimes when they would have a chat to catch up. if he’s lucky, lily would tell him what they discussed over their frequent hang outs. even then, it simply isn’t the same as hanging out with the girl he thought would be his best friend forever.

“i love that drink!” max screams. he pushes her forward with a small and apologetic smile. “come on. we’ll have fun with you tonight. the club is ours — yearly tradition of the world champs.”

“yeah, but–“

“hey, i’ve been looking for you all over the place.” as oscar steps away from her with a laugh, another arm slings itself around her shoulders. she turns her head, furrowing her eyebrows as she meets with blue eyes that shine through the dimness of the club. “you’re just right here all along.”

she laughs sheepishly, throwing her head back with a soft laugh. “yeah, um,” she shakes her head, “just scoping out the place. it’s different when you’re the one the night’s dedicated to, i guess.”

and when logan had pulled away from her, another person had stepped in and tried to be there for her. she doesn’t know where it came from — perhaps it’s her association with sebastian, or that they were in prema together — but mick came forward and started being there for her more.

which then, well, led to this.

“ah, i thought you’d escaped to the peacefulness of our hotel room,” mick laughs, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “ready to get drunk tonight, love? promise i won’t marry you this time around.”

oscar snorts, walking around the three of them. he pushes them all forward in the direction of where the rest of the grid — and her team — is waiting for them. “not until her dad stops fanboying over the fact that his eldest is on the path to being an actual schumacher.”

mick snorts, pulling her into his body. “i need to get over the fact that my girlfriend’s the youngest world champion in formula 1.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @nikfigueiredo @darleneslane @happy-nico @namgification @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @inejismywife @love4lando @trouble-sistar @localwhoore

#logan sargeant x reader #oscar piastri x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #mick schumacher x reader #fem!driver #female driver #f1 fem!driver #f1 female driver #vettel reincarnate #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke vr #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader

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strawhbrrries · 1 year

Text

Three gifts and a kiss

pairing: reader x softish!joel miller

summary: three gifts and a kiss is all it took for you to break the walls around Joel Miller’s heart.

warnings: implied age gap (never mentioned), use of pet names (darlin’), straight fluff, no use of Y/N *please let me know if i forgot anything*

author’s note: this is my first real writing piece, outside of fanfic i wrote on wattpad when i was twelve, so please be kind with criticism! as much as i love smut i was too nervous to write it for my first post so i hope the fluff does justice. i really do hope you enjoy it! *not proofread*

word count: 2145 words

“Shh. Stop your fussing. I am just braiding your hair.” You teased, separating the three strands of hair you were overlapping into more organized strands to work with.

“It hurts!” Ellie whined, laying her head back in your lap to emphasize her point, bringing one her hands up to rub the side of her head to soothe the pain she swore up and down was the worst thing she ever felt.

Ellie was sat on the floor in between your legs reading whatever she had picked up off the end table when she came barging in your house demanding for her hair to be branded, something about how she had never learned and needed to be taught. Which was a big load of bullshit, as proved by the fact you were just braiding her hair and she wasn’t learning shit, well only half a load of bullshit as she truly had never learned.

Jackson wasn’t necessarily a boring place for you before Ellie and Joel showed up, but it wasn’t the most entertaining either. Bartending has its perks but outside of it, all the days blended together and were a never ending boring hell. The foul mouthed child made your days way more interesting, finding every excuse under the sun to find her way into your home. Not that you minded, but a knock would be nice every now and then. You enjoyed her company more than you expected when Tommy informed you that the empty house next door would be filled. You had actual friends your age, but most had adult responsibilities that started earlier in the day than yours did, besides Ellie being over occasionally meant Joel visiting to bring her home. Those were your favorite days.

The first time you ever met the infamous Joel Miller, is forever ingrained in your mind. His footsteps rattling through the house and the deepness of his voice as he called out for Ellie, you mentally noted that he was the reason she never knocked.

“In here Joel!” Ellie called out from your bedroom just up the stairs, giving you a look that expressed all her frustration of him just showing up.

“C’mon, dinners ready.” His voice carried through the house, not once had he really raised his voice since he showed up. His footsteps on the stairs sent her into a flurry to grab her things and go.

The two finger knock on the door captured your attention, never in your twenty years of living had you seen a man so attractive and he became so much more attractive the second he nodded his head in your direction. You knew it had been a long time when such a simple action made warmth flood your body.

“I’ll see you later, Ellie, hopefully the garden will be a bit more grown in soon so we can mess around in it !” You smiled, smoothing out the shirt you were wearing to try and make yourself more presentable for your unexpected handsome visitor. “It’s Joel, right?”

“Yeah, sorry it took so long to meet.” He spoke back, no emotion present. You added to your, short, mental notes about the man that he seemed almost robotic.

“‘s okay. Ellie said you’ve been pretty busy, I enjoy having her around. It was nice to meet you!” You spoke enthusiastically to try and elicit a response from him but all he did was nod his head out the door and left with Ellie trailing behind him. A frown and disappointment soon took over the warmth he had originally brought.

Joel never went out of his way to acknowledge you, sure he nodded his head every time you served him at the bar but unlike your other regulars he had no interest in your stories and new recipes. However, you always went out of your way to acknowledge him in subtle ways; always sending some leftovers home with Ellie, leaving a brand new guitar on his porch after Ellie told you he had broken his other one (admittedly, not your most subtle move), and a record of Linda Ronstadt with the words “I don’t need this back :)” scribbled on a piece of paper taped to it.

The leftovers he appreciated, not that he ever expressed his gratitude to you about it. They were nice after a long shift on patrol, especially so because he didn’t have to cook nor did he have to interact with people at the mess hall. He spoke more to you, kinder to you, after you started sending leftovers home with Ellie. You found him, much like Ellie, barging in more often and on one occasion found him in your garden inspecting the produce you had planted for the season.

“You’ve got weeds.” He’d mumble, as if he was genius of the year for that observation. “Prolly some bugs too.” Joel placed a hand on his knee and got up off the ground, standing awkwardly as he had previously planned to have been gone before you caught him here.

“By all means, if you can find insecticide that won’t cost me a fortune I would be forever indebted to you.” A chuckle slipped out at the thought that THE Joel Miller was in your garden going on about weeds. Life was weird sometimes. Your words earned you the first smile you’ve seen from the man, you thought about it every night from then on out. Joel, unbeknownst to you, thought of your giggle and the pretty blue sundress you had been wearing when you stumbled upon him every night.

The guitar, that one stirred up some trouble in the imaginary relationship you thought was going on with you and Mr. Miller. Ellie had come to help you cook and also gossip about Joel, you didn’t mind either, when he came storming in the house. You and Ellie exchanged a knowing look, but neither could’ve predicted the storm that was going to brew.

“Ellie. Go home.” His voice was low and his face mean. Everyone knew Joel Miller was a mean man but to be the person it was directed at, even worse.

“Wha- I’m just helping!” Ellie tried to plead her case, motioning to the half cut vegetables she was cutting.

“Go.”

Ellie, reluctantly, left which left you with the seething older man standing in your kitchen. Instead of speaking, you simply turned around to the vegetables Ellie just left and started chopping in hopes that maybe he would leave and you didn’t have to be the brunt of whatever anger he had about something you didn’t even know about!

“What did you trade.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement and he expected an answer about point five seconds ago.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.” Also not a question, also a statement, most certainly a lie. You knew exactly what he was asking about, it was an act of kindness and you didn’t want to be scolded for caring about him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, leaned over the kitchen table that sat in between the two of you and let out a sigh. “Let's cut to the chase, darlin’. What the fuck did you trade. Don’t fuck with me either ‘cus I know you’re smarter than that.”

“What I did or did not trade for the guitar is not your business, I was being nice, Joel. Hard for you to get used to, I know.” Your words came out a bit harsher than intended, you weren’t trying to be rude all you had intended to do was give him a new guitar after his had broken.

Instead of a rebuttal all you heard was his boots hitting the floor and the slam of your front door. You were too angry to cry, all you had tried to do was be kind. Had he been embarrassed? Embarrassed about what, that someone cares for him? You were too angry to chop, the fear of accidentally cutting off a finger was a bit too real at the moment, so you settled for half the usual vegetables.

You still put leftovers on his porch. No amount of anger, and sadness for what occurred, would stop you from caring about him.

He didn’t speak to you for eight days. Never showed up to coax Ellie home. Stopped playing his, new, guitar on the porch. For eight days he gave you the cold shoulder, it sucked. He only caved on the eighth day when he overheard your boss mention you had called out of work three days in a row, he couldn’t figure out why he cared but he did. He knocked on your door four times before you opened it.

“You look like shit.” His words robotic as ever.

“If you came to be rude, leave.” Your response was weak and quiet, your skin pale and visibly clammy. You had stressed yourself sick.

“What happened?” He brought his hand to your forehead and immediately felt the heat, surprised you hadn’t melted yet.

For the first time in over twenty years, Joel had taken care of someone. He slept in the uncomfortable chair that sat in the corner of your bedroom, refusing the bed or the couch. He reheated meals and even made some of his own to make sure you were fed, and hydrated. For the first time since you met, you felt that he truly cared. He even let his guard down enough to, begrudgingly almost so much he could’ve convinced someone he was forced to do it, lay with you when the blankets weren’t enough to fight off the shivers. Ellie teased him in the privacy of their home that he was developing a crush, and he was.

The Linda Ronstadt record was your most genius idea. When you had first met Ellie, she mentioned a cassette her and Joel listened to when they were first driving out here. You asked for the artist and her exact words were “I don't know. Linda blah blah blah.” The guitar incident was long forgotten so you figured gifts were pretty safe now. A coworker had mentioned trading a few records for some home cooked meals, and the stars aligned so perfectly that one of them happened to be the exact record Ellie had spoken about (or so you hoped).

Joel frequented your place more often, he found your company more appealing than his own, and you enjoyed it more than you let on. You had Ellie leave the record somewhere in his room to find after his patrol shift.

The now familiar sound of Joel’s boots hitting the floor as he took them off filled your living room. However, he was supposed to be on patrol and definitely not here in your house holding a Linda Ronstadt record.

“Darlin’ what’s with the gift?” He asked softly, or as soft as he possibly could. His body finding comfort next to yours on the couch, plucking the note you wrote off the record and tucking it away into the pocket of his flannel.

“Ellie said you liked her, someone at work was gettin’ rid of it. Figured you might like it.” A smile making itself home on your face, he thought it was the prettiest smile he’d ever seen. He’d gone soft.

“I don’t own a record player sweet girl.”

“You’ll have to visit more then. Or! Let me give you one!”

“I’ll just let you have it, hopefully the lyrics haven’t left my brain just yet and I can teach ‘em to ya.” He placed the record on the end table next to him and placed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Can’t believe I was such a hard ass on you, sweetest thing to ever grace my life.”

“I knew you’d come around eventually.” Looking up at him softly and caressing his cheek before placing the gentlest of kisses to his lips. “Thought you were supposed to be on patrol anyway.”

“Got someone to switch with me after I saw the record, had to come see my girl.” Joel responded, placing a kiss on your lips before trailing his thumb along your bottom lip.

Three gifts and a kiss is all it took for you to break the walls around Joel Miller’s heart. The leftovers no longer found their way onto his porch, as eventually it became your porch and the leftovers found themselves in a new fridge. The guitar was played and used to teach Ellie how to play, you often spent evenings on the porch listening to someone strum it. The record was always on repeat when Joel was home, until he accidentally dropped it on the floor consequently covering it in scratches unable to be played. As for the kisses, they never stopped and each one filled your body with butterflies that could burst out at any moment.

#joel miller #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #pedro x reader #pedropascal #maddies fics

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sseastar · 1 year

Text

✶ tingly feeling ; lee heeseung.

info. fluff ; lee heeseung x gn!reader warnings. physical touch / cuddling. listen to. it takes two by fiji blue.

[✧] “see, this is nice, isn’t it?” a muffled voice says against the skin of your neck. it’s funny how much you’ve become used to the feeling of his lips grazing over your skin. you could barely look at him early into your relationship and you think you’ve come a long way. especially since your boyfriend could have anyone in the palm of his hand just by smiling. or those damn eyes.

“i suppose,” you tease, taking your hand to run your fingers through the locks of your boyfriend’s hair, his head tucked at the crook of your neck and his body half draped over yours. his arms tighten around your torso as he presses a soft kiss on a spot on your neck, and you giggle. a little under a year ago, you would’ve slapped yourself for giggling, reprimanding yourself for letting a man make you giggle. but lee heeseung always had that effect on people anyway, and you were no different.

well, except for the fact that you were the one he chose to love. and frankly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“what do you mean you suppose? i know you’re comfortable right now,” heeseung lifts his head from where it rests against your neck and shoulder, lightly tapping his forehead onto your cheek. you only laugh, tightening your hold around the boy that lays halfway on top of you, patting both of your hands against his back and shoulder and pressing a kiss onto the top of his head.

against the sound of your oscillating towering fan in the corner, you can hear the morning birds chirping outside the window you decided to leave open the night before in hopes to cool down the stuffy summer air. the chirping was what woke heeseung up from his slumber next to you as you finished up one of your assignments before turning it in. as soon as he watched you click the bright blue ‘submit’ button and the webpage celebrated with animated confetti, he was shutting your laptop and forcing you back down onto the pillow. ‘this is your punishment for not letting me wake up in your arms.’ you only rolled your eyes at him, but allowed him to take up his rightful place over your body.

“no, yeah, you’re right, i’m enjoying this because you’re being a big baby right now.”

“hey!” he huffs, and his grip on you loosens as he props himself up to interrogate you. you don’t think you it’s possible to not get flustered by the way he hovers over your frame. even if he’s whining right now. so, you yank on his shirt again and he gives in, returning to the position he had been in. “what do you mean ‘big baby?”

“i’m saying you need to be cuddled as much as i do and that i’m glad i’m the only one that gets to see your clingy, cute side under your whole…husband material…apparatus.”

“oh, you think i’m husband material?” heeseung raises his head from your chest again to quirk an eyebrow at you and you take your hand to push his face back down to its original spot.

“hee, you already know i do, you dork,” you pout, and he only laughs against your neck, only for you to join him when you realize how content you are right now. content in this moment, in this place, in his arms.

no matter how asleep your leg is.

⌕. author’s note ; ayo guess who's back! it's been so long sinc i last posted, and this is so so short but i currently am in finals week and just need a break so i wanted to post something here! i'm still very much working on my wips rn but i keep losing motivation and getting inspo at the worst times (like i said i have finals this and next week) so thanks everyone for the patience! i'm obviously not a consistent writer just because my personal life doesn't allow for it, but posting stuff every once in a while is just something i want to continue to do because i don't want my writing to just be stuck in my google drive! anyway, hope y'all enjoyed this very very short thing that i ended up posting as a blurb because i couldn't find a good wip to put it into lol <3

⌕. taglist ; @soobin-chois @koishua @iwonzzi @enhacolor @chrysbibi @acaiasahi

#heeseung scenarios #heeseung imagines #heeseung fanfic #heeseung drabbles #heeseung fluff #heeseung blurbs #heeseung x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles #enhypen reactions #enhypen fluff #enhypen fics #heeseung fics #enhypen blurbs #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung soft hours

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irkimatsu · 6 months

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i just read the “rough sex, Husk catching feeling” story of yours & im wondering if you could pretty please make a part 2 🙏

I really thought this was going to end up smutty, but I decided in the end that it wasn't what Husk needed in the moment. He's got feelings, too, and sometimes he just needs a hug. They can fuck again later, it's fine.

Third person, not quite NSFW but still has some spice to it. A sequel to this post. Shoutout to @thorteddy for the original prompt!

It had been about a week since he’d last seen her.

It wasn’t a terribly long time; she’d had her stints before where she’d drop by constantly for a month or so, then vanish for a few weeks. Husk never worried too much when that happened. He simply figured she had other things to be doing. It wasn’t like they were close enough for him to care what she did away from the hotel.

They were close enough to fuck when she dropped by. Just not close enough for him to care where she was otherwise..

At least, they weren’t until Angel had to go and open his mouth.

“I wonder if she lets other guys fuck her like that or if you’ve got special privileges.”

He hadn’t been able to shake that thought ever since Angel said that. Did she see other people? What would stop her from that? Surely not him. He never told her he wanted to be exclusive with her or anything. Why the hell would he have said that in the first place? They were just friends who helped each other with stress relief, and that was all.

Even as he thought that, he couldn’t help but stare at the front door of the hotel as he cleaned up for the night, wondering if this time she’d come through those doors to see him again.

She didn’t. With a frustrated growl, he slammed the last batch of glasses onto the shelf, somehow not breaking any, and stalked off to his bedroom for another night alone.

It’d be another four frustrating days until he’d see her again.

—

It hadn’t even been two weeks since their last intense session, and yet for Husk, it seemed like forever since he held her in his arms. His claws lightly combed through her hair as he kissed her, while her own hands focused their affection on his chest.

“You don’t normally focus on kissing this long,” she observed with a laugh. “You feeling all right?”

Had he been lingering here for so long? He’d lost track of time. “What’s wrong with that?” he protests. “I like kissing ya.”

“I know you do,” she said as she climbed into his lap. “I know what other things you like doing to me, too…” She grabbed his cheeks - fuck her hands were so warm, why was that such a good spot for her to touch - and pulled him in for another kiss. She shifted her hips and started rocking into his waist, moaning as she rubbed against his bulge.

“Hey…” Husk gently grabbed her waist and slid her away from his erection. “Hold on.”

“Are you okay, Husk?” she asked, brow furrowed. “Is something bothering you?”

He took a deep breath before letting that burning question tumble out of his mouth.

“Do you ever fuck anyone besides me?” he asked, so bluntly and out of nowhere that she couldn't help but laugh.

“Husk! Where is this coming from? What, do you have an interested friend? Maybe you want to try a threesome?” She cooed this last suggestion while dragging a finger down Husk’s chest. Her attitude almost got him to pounce her, if only his head wasn’t such a mess right now.

“Was just wonderin’...” he asked as his ears drooped. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I mean… don’t you?” she asked in return. “Surely I’m not the only drunk you’ve picked up in a bar.”

Husk is certain his silence speaks volumes.

“Husk…” She climbed out of Husk’s lap, now that he’s made it clear that this isn’t a good time. “Should I go?”

“No,” Husk said, instinctively grabbing her wrist. “Stay.”

“Did you want to keep making out?” she asked as she sat down beside him.

“...I don’t know what I want,” he admitted after a heavy sigh. “What are we? What am I to you?”

“We’re fuckbuddies!” she responded with a laugh, making Husk’s ears flatten further. “That’s what you wanted, right? When we first met you said you weren’t looking for anything serious, and I wasn’t either, so…” Upon noticing Husk’s discomfort, she spoke more gently. “Isn’t it what you wanted…?”

“I’ve been through a lot of shit, you know?” Husk said. “I’m a divorced old man, and the only mistake my wife ever made in our marriage was not leaving me sooner. I didn’t have relationships figured out with her, and I sure as hell never figured them out after that. It’s hard to when you’re a fucking drunk with a gambling problem. Who’d want to get close to something like that?” He started regretting not bringing a drink up here with him like he normally did when alone. “Of course I wasn’t looking for something else when I met you. I can’t handle anything else.

…but I don’t know if I can handle this, either.”

“Handle what?” she asked, not quite understanding.

“...look. I’m sorry, but I can’t keep seeing you. I’m lying to myself if I try to keep it casual, but I sure as hell can’t drag you down with me.” He sighed again as he let go of her wrist. “You should just go.”

He sat waiting for the bed to lift in her absence. The sensation never came.

Instead, a set of claws started gently rubbing his back. Not so close to his wings to get him frustrated, and not deep with desperate need; just a calming, circular stroke.

“I don’t know if I can do it, either,” she admitted. “Relationships, I mean. It’s been a long time, and I’ve got my own baggage… but can I tell you something?”

“Hm?” Husk didn’t look at her as she spoke.

“It’s true, you’re not the only guy I’ve been with recently…”

Not what he wanted to hear. It took all his willpower not to bristle his fur and growl in jealousy over something that wasn’t even his.

“...but you’re the only one I see regularly.” She scooted closer to him to rest his head on your shoulder. “I don’t know… there’s just something about you. Something I want to know more about. Sure, I’ve been physically attracted to other guys, but I didn’t want to get to know them like I want to know you.”

Husk scoffed. “There’s really not that much to know about me. I’m an old drunk who screwed up my life, and now I’m stuck here.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” she said. “You can’t live as long as you have without having some interesting stories!”

“Is that what you really wanna do?” he asked. “Lay in an old man’s bed while he tells you stories?”

“Who says we only have to see each other in bed?” she asked. “It’s not like you can’t be seen in public with me, can it?”

“Well, no…”

“Then take me on a date tomorrow. It doesn’t have to be anything special. Just show me a place you like, where we can get to know each other. Would you enjoy that?”

Taking her out on a date… maybe a nice lunch at a music hall… Husk couldn’t help but smile at that idea. “Okay. It’s a date.”

“Sounds good!” she said, her bright smile chasing away even a little bit of the dark cloud that always loomed over Husk’s mind. “As for tonight… did you still wanna?”

Husk felt pathetic before the words even left his mouth. “...can we just cuddle tonight?”

Instead of shaming him for the uncharacteristic request for affection, she wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. “Of course. Cuddling sounds nice.”

“...and can you stay until morning this time?”

“I’ll stay,” she promised, sealing it with a kiss on his cheek.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin husk x reader #irk blubbers about nothing #irk got asked a thing #irk talks to strangers #irk huskposts

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vikkisixxpixx · 1 year

Text

Originally wrote this as a scenario for my Motley Crue DR (shifter rep), decided to post it since there's a severe lack of this kink in bandfic

To clarify, I am a cardiophile. UrbanDictionary describes cardiophilia as "the act of being obsessed with the heart," though personally, I prefer the term "fascinated." Depending on the person, it can be sexual or nonsexual (it's both for me), however, since this is a smut, this will be focused on the sexual aspect. Now, as the song says, on with the show.

Dr. Feelgood

(Source)

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Suki Taylor (my DR self), is in first person from the perspective of Suki Word Count: 1,236 Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+ content), cardiophilia/heartbeat kink, medfet, fingering f!receiving, piv sex (protection not mentioned because I forgot, could go either way in your imagination), multiple orgasms (on the part of Suki), explicit language, mentions of alcohol (in passing), nicknames, a very corny joke mid-tango, lmk if I missed anything. Don't like? Don't read. Extra Notes: we needed more of this kink anyway. also Quiet Riot's Cum On Feel The Noize came on shuffle when I wrote the second orgasm and I still find it hilarious Based on: Dr. Feelgood by Motley Crue (in name), the horny thoughts I got after viewing the attached photo No beta, we die like real men

Nikki sighs as he sits next to me on the tour bus. Tommy’s at a payphone calling Heather, while Mick and Vince are having a few drinks on the bus.

“If I don’t have one night away from Tommy, I’m gonna fuckin’ scream,” Nikki breaks the silence. “He’s about to drive me batshit crazy!”

I stifle a giggle. “Do you wanna get a hotel for tonight?” I ask. “You have another show here tomorrow.”

He presses a kiss to my cheek. “That is an amazing idea.”

It’s about an hour later that the two of us are checked into a room at some chain hotel; not sleazy, but definitely not the Ritz.

“It’ll look like shit after we’re done anyway,” Nikki says with a shit-eating grin on his face.

I snicker, rolling my suitcase to the corner of the room. “I wish the show wasn’t so soon. Then we could…”

He stalks over to me before lightly brushing his fingertips down my arm. “I don’t have to go.”

I laugh slightly. “You’re in one of the most popular bands in the world. You’re not missing a show!”

He plants a sloppy kiss on my lips. “Maybe later I can do something special for you.”

I smirk. “I’d love nothing more.” I give him a quick kiss before saying, “Now, you need to go.”

He kisses me again before walking out the door.

The show, like usual, is very loud and very successful. But, for the first time I’ve ever seen, Nikki is ecstatic to get off stage.

As we’re walking out to the car the venue lent us, he throws an arm around me. “Ya know, babe, I think that was my best performance yet.”

“What makes you say that, honey?”

“Because I played the best I could so I could go back to the hotel as fast as I can.”

I laugh at his comment as the two of us get in the car.

The drive to the hotel is largely quiet, though the sexual tension is palpable.

“I’ve got a surprise in my suitcase,” Nikki speaks in a singsong voice as we enter our room.

“You do, do you?�� I ask with my eyebrow quirked.

“Mhmm. Go in the bathroom and don’t come out ‘til I say so.”

“Yes, sir,” I reply with a smirk. He chuckles and smacks my ass as I walk away.

It’s a silent moment later that I hear, “The doctor will see you now, Miss Taylor.”

“Dr. Feelgood?”

I walk into the room to find Nikki wearing a white coat—and only a white coat—with a stethoscope around his neck.

“Yeah, I heard you’ve been under the weather, Miss Taylor,” he says with a devious smirk.

I giggle. “Yes, Doctor, I’ve been feeling very, very sick.” I fall onto the bed dramatically with a hand on my chest.

“What seems to be the trouble, Miss Taylor?”

“My heart just feels all sorts of funny, Doctor.” I blush when I realize what I’ve said.

Without wasting a second, Nikki walks over. “Hmm, sounds like I should check that out.” In one swift move, the stethoscope is gone from his neck and has found a new place, with one end on my chest.

A few silent seconds pass before I blurt out, “That thing’s not even real, is it?”

Nikki chuckles. “You bet your ass it is.” He smirks as we both feel my heart rate skyrocket. A blush makes its way across my cheeks as he says, “Now that is interesting. Take a deep breath for me, would ya, babe?”

My stomach does flips at the way it sounds when he says that sentence, but I obey nonetheless.

He listens silently for a moment. “Miss Taylor, could I get you to be my guinea pig for a second?”

“Of course, Dr. Feelgood,” I reply. “What do I need to do?”

“Just stay still for me.” He plants one of his signature sloppy kisses on my lips, listening to the effect it has on my heart. “Hmm, just like I thought. I gotta operate, Miss Taylor. Now. With your permission, of course.”

“Oh, absolutely, Doctor. Is there anything I need to do?” I ask as dramatically as I can.

“Let me do all the work for you.” He kisses me again before slipping my battle vest off to hit the floor, followed by my tank top.

With more of my chest exposed, he starts placing kisses on every inch of my bare skin, occasionally just above my heart, which is the only time he moves the stethoscope. Each one earns a moan.

“Beautiful sounds, baby,” Nikki says between kisses. “From your mouth and your heart. Got one more in you?”

He slinks a finger past my shorts and underwear after his words, curling it inside me; an action which elicits the loudest moan I’ve let out so far.

“Good girl. Mind if I take these off?”

My brain is already so foggy from pleasure that the only thing I can do is release an affirming noise before my shorts and panties join the growing pile of clothes on the floor. With them out of the way, another slender finger joins the first one.

“Fuck, Nikki!” I shout.

He chuckles. “I will, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.” His white coat falls to the floor before he removes his fingers to put them in his mouth. “You are delicious.”

Before I can even think about his statement, he’s got me in a new position on the bed, before thrusting himself inside me.

I let out another “Fuck!” as Nikki starts finding a rhythm. I can only imagine the sounds filling the earpieces of the stethoscope as he’s fucking the daylights out of me.

“How does it feel, Princess?” he growls. “How does it feel knowing I’m fucking your pretty pussy to the beat of your own poor little heart?”

“Feels good!” I manage to moan out, my body bouncing with his every move.

He chuckles. “And that’s why they call me Dr. Feelgood. Because I’m the one to make you feel alright.”

Normally I would’ve laughed at his joke, but I’m so cock-drunk by this point that my only response is to throw my head back and mewl.

It’s hardly even a second later that I feel the telltale knot of an orgasm building in my stomach. “Fuck, I’m gonna— Aah!”

Nikki chuckles once more. “Go ahead and let yourself cum, Miss Taylor.”

A scream of “Nikki!” comes out as I give in to the pleasure.

As my body quivers beneath him, his thrusts start to become unsteady.

“Nikki, I wanna listen to your heart while you cum,” I whine.

He smirks and quickly switches the stethoscope around. Now my ears are filled with the beautiful sound of his heartbeat. A moment of counting reveals it to be at 130 beats per minute.

“Fuck, Nikki, your heart’s racing,” I blurt out.

“It’s cuz I love you so much.”

His unsteady thrusts paired with the sound of his heart in my ears is enough to send me over the edge again, and the two of us climax in sync.

Panting fills the air as neither of us say anything at first. After a moment, Nikki takes the stethoscope and puts it back on me.

“Your heart sounds like a fuckin’ jackhammer, babe.”

I slap his arm playfully. “Shut up!”

#mine #nikki sixx #motley crue fanfic #motley crue #mötley crüe #mötley crüe fanfic #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx fic #motley crue smut #mötley crüe smut #nikki sixx smut #vikkisixxfixx

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lemoncrushh · 4 months

Text

Seven Six Five - Part Six

Summary: They met once seven years ago. Now music has made them cross paths again.

Warnings: smut, body image issues, angst. 18+ ONLY!

A/N: Enemies to Lovers. This was originally written and posted in 2020, right before the pandemic, so the story takes place then with flashbacks of 2013. Harry Styles x Plus Size OC, written in third person.

Part Six Word Count: 6.4k+

STORY PAGE

1 March, 2020 - New York, NY, USA… 1:43 AM

Harry stood so close, his eyes pleading with his inquiry that hung in the air. Bronwyn could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her breaths uneven, slipping between her lips in a rhythm of their own as her hand searched behind her for the doorknob. Finding it in haste, she turned it, pushing the door open a crack, just as her head gave a silent nod.

“Yeah?” Harry raised a brow to confirm.

“Yes,” Bronwyn breathed, stepping backward into her flat, pulling Harry along by his hand and turning on the light.

His eyes remained on her as she closed the door behind him, set her camera bag on the floor and slipped out of her coat. As she hung it on the hook, only then did Harry finally move, taking off his own jacket. With a shy grin, Bronwyn took it from it and hung it next to hers.

Sliding his arms around her waist, Harry pulled Bronwyn close again, pressing her against his own body. A tiny sound rose from her throat as she gazed into his eyes, just before he lowered his mouth onto hers.

He kissed her passionately, sending shivers to every extremity, making her light-headed. Her hands in his hair, she imagined being swept off her feet like in a scene from an old black and white movie. His tongue met with hers, tasting of liquor and something sweet. Another moan coming from her chest, her hands slid around from the back of his neck to his face where she allowed her fingers to delicately arouse themselves against the friction of his scruffy jaw.

Breaking his lips free from the kiss, Harry rested his forehead against Bronwyn’s, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“It’s funny…” he said with a smirk, “now that we’re here finally, I’m not sure I know where to begin.”

A small giggle rang from Bronwyn’s mouth before she dropped her hands. “That’s not what a girl wants to hear.”

“You know what I mean,” Harry chuckled.

“I do, baby,” Bronwyn cooed, taking his hand again. “But I reckon you’ve already begun.”

With a sly smile, she turned for the bedroom, guiding Harry through the beaded curtain where her bed waited patiently. The candles from dinner had long been extinguished, but a slight aroma still remained, filling her senses as she switched on the bedside lamp. Facing Harry, she licked her lips, thinking he surely could hear the tempo of her heartbeat that had been playing since they’d arrived.

Lifting his free hand, Harry tenderly touched her cheek before pulling her into another kiss. Here in her bedroom, she felt more vulnerable than ever. With a rumble in her belly, she backed into the side of her bed, her hands freezing on his chest.

“Mmm, Harry,” she murmured nervously.

“Bronwyn…” he growled, his lips dragging across her cheek to her jaw.

“Actually, um...” she hesitated, grabbing his wrists, “mind if I make a quick trip to the loo?”

Catching the dimple in his cheek as he lifted his head, she watched him step back.

“‘Course, love. Just don’t keep me waiting long.”

“I won’t,” Bronwyn promised, stepping through the beaded curtain again.

“Least I won’t have to go searching for you this time,” she heard Harry tease as she headed for the bathroom.

Shutting the door, she took care of business before washing her hands, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Memories of that night seven years prior came flooding back once again. She remembered having this same exact feeling then, stood before a bathroom mirror. She’d been nervous and excited at the same time, a fire in her belly as she anticipated what was to come. Now, seven years older - and wiser, she hoped - the nerves and thrill were the same. Only this time, Harry Styles was alone in her bedroom, awaiting her return. Just that thought alone was erotic and brought a smile to her lips.

Making her way back, Bronwyn tiptoed through the living room and turned out the light, leaving only the glow from the lamp beside her bed where Harry sat. The tinkle of the beads as she pushed them aside suddenly sounded louder to her than she remembered, mimicking the ticking in her head. The image before her, however, was enough to take her breath away and make her forget all of her inhibitions.

“Well,” she nearly choked, the fire in her belly now roaring madly at the sight, “to what do I owe this honour?”

“You said yes,” replied the naked figure lying on her bed, a spitting image of the one in the fold-out poster.

Except this one wasn’t covering his crotch. His arms lay on either side of himself, like an angel spreading his wings.

Bronwyn cleared her throat as her gaze wandered over his body, piece by piece, wondering how long it might take to count the ink on his skin. Blinking hard at the ludicrous thought, she licked her lips and stepped forward.

“I see,” she said softly. “It’s quite a lovely gift to receive for just one simple word.”

She caught the twitch of his lips as they threatened to spread into a smile before he shifted onto his side, facing her.

“I have more,” he commented.

“More?”

“More gifts to give.”

“Oh,” Bronwyn mouthed, taking another step. “And what do I have to do to earn them?”

Harry sat up then, and rose from the bed to meet her.

“Absolutely nothing,” he replied, sliding his hands underneath her ears and kissing her so intently, so seductively, that she hadn’t time to react.

His lips were warm and soft against hers, his tongue darting far enough into her mouth to clue her into what other things he had in mind. Her hands nearly trembling, she brought them up to reach for bare skin. Her fingertips grazed the flesh beneath his ribs, and she heard him hum against her mouth. As her hands traveled down his abs, she felt his erection poke against the hem of her dress. Adrenaline rushing through her, she wrapped her hand around it just as a low groan sounded from his chest.

“Mmm, yes,” Harry breathed, his fingers reaching behind her neck. “Let’s get you out of this dress, baby.”

Quickly finding the zipper, Harry had it pulled halfway down before Bronwyn released his cock from her hand and stopped him.

“Wait.”

“What's wrong?” he asked, his swollen lips in a pout.

“I just…” Bronwyn hesitated, looking him in the eye before averting her gaze to the inked butterfly on his stomach. “I just want to remind you that I’m kind of...a big girl. My body isn’t-”

“Shhh,” Harry quieted her with a finger on her lips. “None of that. I want you, Bronwyn. Do you want me?”

Bronwyn nodded, Harry’s finger still pressing on her mouth. With a tiny smirk, he released it, mimicking her nod before resuming his task with the zipper. She watched him intently as she felt the cool breeze on her back, trying her damndest not to crumble. She wanted to be the other Bronwyn, the flirty, alive one he’d spoken about earlier. But she knew it was no use. Naked Bronwyn was as close to vulnerable as she could get, despite the hungry look in his eyes.

The thick fabric of her dress slipped heavily from her shoulders and fell around her feet which were still clad in leather boots. A slight chill nipped at her skin as she shut her eyes and allowed herself to count her own breaths before looking up at Harry. He stared at her with hooded green eyes as he licked his lips and reached behind her again to unhook her bra.

The silence was deafening except for the echo of their heartbeats, punctuated by their breaths. For a moment, Bronwyn wished she had thought to put on some music, but it was too late for that. As Harry slipped off her bra, his fingers grazed her breasts, and it was as though the fire inside of her had come to the surface, sparks igniting, and she just about came unglued.

“Oh, yes,” she murmured before even realising.

“Yeah babe, you like to be touched here?” Harry asked.

“Mmhmm,” Bronwyn nodded.

Cupping her breasts, Harry let his thumbs run over her nipples. A slight grin twitched at the corner of his mouth as he seemed to take pride in making her feel good. With a sigh, Bronwyn threw her head back, no longer worried about her body image or insecurities. She was convinced now that Harry was in it for the pleasure, and he was quite good at it.

“You are so fucking sexy,” she heard him say as he pinched her nipples, earning a moan from her.

His hands continued their caresses on her bosom before making their way to the waistband of her knickers. Bronwyn watched him as he pulled them down and around her boots, helping her step out of them.

“C’mere, love,” he said, taking her hand and backing into the edge of the bed.

“Um...am I to leave these on?” Bronwyn asked shyly, pointing at her boots.

“Yes please,” Harry requested, his expression serious. “Just for now.”

Before she could protest, Harry crouched down, his face level with her belly. His hands on her hips, he placed a soft kiss just below her navel, another a bit lower, and one more for good measure. Feeling light-headed again, Bronwyn let out a gasp when Harry lifted her thigh and placed another kiss on the inside.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” she swore as his tongue began to leave a trail across her skin, inching closer to her already moist and anticipating center.

“Mmhmm,” Harry sounded against her inner thigh, teasing and tantilising her with more kisses.

Then with one more lick across her flesh, he seemed to find his destination. Bronwyn purred as his tongue circled around the delicate folds and landed on her already swollen bud. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d experienced such immediate ecstasy, nor did she want to.

Harry’s hands moved from her thighs around to her bum as he continued to devour her. The sting of his cold rings on her tender and bare skin was both alarming and alluring, and that combined with the unstoppable high that was rising throughout her body, she suddenly worried she might not be able to remain standing.

“Oh my God, Harry,” she moaned, reaching for the bedside table to steady herself.

“Here, baby,” she heard him say as he urged her thigh up. “Put your foot up here.”

Still disoriented, Bronwyn managed to place her foot on the frame of the bed, next to Harry’s head. Not only did it help her balance, but it gave Harry wider access.

With a deep growl, Harry ran his hand up her boot to her bare thigh, his digits stopping at her clit. Bronwyn let out a cry as he began to play, the calluses on his fingertips creating a melody of their own against her soft, exposed skin.

“That feel good?” Harry inquired.

“Yes,” Bronwyn managed to breathe. “But...inside, please. I want them inside me.”

Bronwyn felt his breath against her as he chuckled low and gingerly slipped his fingers inside.

“Like that?” he asked.

“God, yes!” she exclaimed, shifting her hips in order to meet his fingers where she wanted to.

“Mmm, you’re so warm, Bronwyn,” Harry remarked. “So warm and wet. I can’t wait to feel you around me.”

With a groan, Bronwyn looked down at him, his green eyes burning so darkly, she could swear they were black.

“Well, what are we waiting-”

Harry chuckled again, a devilish grin on his face as his hand continued to pump its fingers.

“Patience, baby,” he said. “One thing at a time.”

“Ho-holy shit, you’re gonna drive me mad.”

“Hope so,” Harry added before returning his mouth to its task.

The combination of his tongue and fingers was enough to send Bronwyn over the edge, her legs trembling as she howled a long, orgasmic cry. Her hands that had found their way into his hair, tugged gently as she came down, setting her booted foot on the ground once again.

“Wow,” she exhaled, pushing her damp hair from her face.

She watched as Harry kissed her thigh once more before he shimmied himself up from the floor and rose to face her. She couldn’t help but smile as he wiped his mouth and chin free of her juices.

“So…” she said as he pulled her close. “There’s to be a second part?”

Harry’s dimple dipped in his cheek as he laughed low. “I might have other things in store.”

“I just might, as well,” Bronwyn teased, lacing her arms around his neck.

Tilting his head, Harry kissed her deeply. She tasted herself on his tongue, causing another moan to rise from her throat.

“I love the sounds you make,” Harry growled against her ear as he ran his hands across her bum. Bronwyn decided she really liked that.

“Can I take these off now?” she asked, referring to her boots.

“Sure,” Harry smirked. “If you must.”

Biting her lip, Bronwyn considered leaving the boots on, but decided they’d had enough fun for one evening. Slipping them off, she felt another fire in her belly, but not one of nerves. That orgasm had ripped through her, and the anticipation of more to come was overwhelmingly thrilling.

“Thank you for keeping them on during that, though,” Harry added when Bronwyn was turned away from him, setting her boots beside the closet. “That was really hot.”

Just as she was about to turn around again, she felt his warm, lean body press against her back. Sliding his hands down her hips, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, gently nipping at her skin.

“I suppose I shouldn’t keep you waiting too long, handsome,” Bronwyn commented, covering his hands with hers.

“Mmm,” he hummed against her ear. “You’re not keeping me waiting. I’m right here.”

“I meant that pistol you have poking me in the bum.”

Harry chuckled. “Oh, you noticed.”

“How could I not?” she remarked, bringing their joint hands to her stomach. “It’s quite lovely.”

Harry turned her around then, his green eyes dancing with glee. This time it was Bronwyn who took the initiative and brought his face to hers, kissing him deeply and passionately. Slowly, she raked her fingers down his chest and stomach until she met his hard cock.

“God, Harry,” she moaned against his lips as his heavy breaths pushed out with hers. “I dunno if I’d rather have you inside my mouth or my pussy.”

She gingerly began to pump his erection, waiting for his response. When she reached underneath with her other hand, she cupped his balls, earning a guttural moan from him.

“Shit, woman,” he cried. “Here I thought I was gonna be the one to drive you mad.”

“Perhaps it’s my turn now, darling.”

“Unnngggh yeah,” Harry sighed, throwing his head back as Bronwyn fell to her knees.

The initial lick around his cock to wet it was easy. Taking him into her mouth, she felt the heat ignite again inside her core. But when Harry began to moan again, threading his fingers through her curls as she sucked him, she quickly realised how badly she wanted to feel him inside of her.

Concentrating on the task at hand, however, she reveled in the feeling of his firm dick in her hand, her lips wrapping around it like the best lolly she’d ever tasted. Running her free hand across the flesh just above his hip where his tattooed laurels lay, she listened to his breaths, each one released a bit more jagged than the one before. Finally, when she took him a little deeper into her mouth, allowing her tongue the suction it needed, she felt him tremble as he cursed.

“You’re so fucking good at that…” he gasped. “Oh shit.”

Bronwyn continued for a bit longer, delighting in the sounds he made before popping off of him.

“Shall I continue, or…”

“No, no. I’m getting too close. I’m sure it’s amazing to come in your mouth but...I’d rather fuck.”

“Mmm, good. Me too.”

Rising from the floor, Bronwyn took Harry’s hand as he helped her up and guided her to the bed.

“Where do you want me?” he asked, his voice so deep and laced with sex.

“Sorry?”

“Do you want me on top?”

A tiny giggle escaped her throat as she looked at him incredulously, unable to hide the joy his inquiry gave her.

“Whatever you’d like, honey. Sorry, I’ve just...never had anyone ask me that before.”

“Mmm, well I want to please you the best way I can,” declared Harry, slipping his ringed hands around her waist. “Do you like it from behind?”

“God, yes,” she nodded before lifting her hand to his cheek. “Except then I wouldn’t get to look at your gorgeous face.”

A low chuckle sounded from his chest. “Alright then.”

“Oh, here,” Bronwyn suggested, pulling open the drawer of her bedside table. She grabbed a wrapped condom and handed it to Harry. “I promise I’m not presumptuous. Just prepared.”

“Of course,” agreed Harry with a smirk.

As he rolled the condom over his length, Harry watched Bronwyn as she positioned herself on the bed, her bedroom eyes awaiting his accompaniment. Then crawling onto the bed to join her, he slithered his body between her legs and kissed her.

“Harry…” she suddenly spoke when he lifted his head to look into her eyes. She wasn’t quite sure why she decided to ask her next question, or why this felt like the proper moment, but she allowed it to slip from her lips, nevertheless.

“Yes, love?”

“Is this what you imagined?”

Staring at her for a second, Harry shook his head. “Even better.”

A smile slowly spread across her face as her fingers tickled his arms.

“That might be a lie,” she quipped, “but I’ll believe it anyway.”

“It’s not.”

“Doesn’t matter. I like it.”

Spreading her legs, Bronwyn reached down and guided Harry inside, his cock sliding in slowly, making her toes curl. With a gasp, she felt him slide back and in again before finding a steady pace. She watched his face as he stared into her eyes, his perfect lips slightly open.

“How’s that feel?” he asked, their bodies rocking smoothly.

“Incredible.”

Harry nodded in agreement, his eyelids blinking slowly. It wasn’t long before Bronwyn had a hard time keeping her eyes open as well, and she started to lose control of her breathing.

“Oh, God,” she panted.

“Yeah, baby, you feel so fucking good,” Harry moaned. “Put your legs around me.”

With a little help, she did as instructed, wrapping her legs around his waist, giving him the deepest access. Soon enough, she began to feel the build-up of an orgasm, hitting her at just the right spot. Grasping at his back, she held onto Harry for dear life, moaning into his shoulder. There was no need for her to warn him how close she was. He seemed to know as he picked up speed and thrust deeper and deeper. Finally, the dam broke and she released a loud cry.

“Harry! Oh! Fuck me!”

“Yeah, baby. Come for me,” he growled in her ear. “‘m almost there.”

A couple more bucks from his hips sent the second orgasm of the night shivering through her entire body. Just as she was crying out his name again, he cursed against the pillow and groaned low, his back trembling underneath her hands.

They both lay still for a few moments, their bodies both perspiring and spent. Finally, Harry lifted his head, kissed her softly, and laid it back down on her chest with a sigh.

“You’re right,” remarked Bronwyn in a whisper, her fingers playing lightly in his curls.

“About what, baby?”

“That was better that I imagined. Way better.”

With a deep hum, Harry slid his hands down her sides and back up again. Normally a movement like that would have sent Bronwyn into a fit of giggles, but in that moment, it wasn’t funny, and it didn’t tickle. Instead, it was like a gesture of contentment - of being a hundred percent satisfied.

The morning sun had yet to make its appearance as Bronwyn tiptoed into the living room and picked up her camera and brought it to her desk, opening her laptop. She knew it was early, and she hadn’t wanted to leave Harry’s side, but she had work to do. As she waited for her photos to transfer, she jumped when she heard a rustling behind her.

“Oh, you startled me,” she said, her hand over her heart.

“What time is it?” Harry asked as he strode across the room, scratching his scruffy jaw.

Unable to control the flutter in her tummy at the sound of his low, gravelly, sleepy voice, Bronwyn smiled.

“Far too early for you to be up, love,” she declared. “Go back to sleep.”

“What are you doing?” he asked, ignoring her request and placing his hands on her shoulders.

“Work. I still have the second part of last night to do, you know?”

“I thought we did that,” Harry giggled as he nuzzled her neck.

“Stop it, you! I mean my job.”

“Oh yeah,” he laughed cheekily.

“Go, honey,” she instructed. “I’ll probably be a while. You’re still sleepy.”

“No, I’m lonely and horny.”

Bronwyn groaned, not because she wanted him to leave her be, but because she’d much rather be with him in her bed. Caressing her shoulders with his fingers, his mouth continued to nip at her neck.

“You’re not making this easy,” she protested.

“Not trying to,” he murmured. “Actually, I only got up to wee. I’ll leave you to your work.”

“You little shit.”

Bronwyn heard Harry giggle on his way to the toilet, but on his way back he blew her a kiss before retreating to her bedroom.

Fortunately, because Bronwyn had already done several write-ups and reviews for Austin’s band and the Double X bar, she was able to zip through this one in record time. The sun was just starting to peek from behind the clouds when she pushed aside the beaded curtain and watched Harry sleeping soundly. He looked so lovely and content, she hated to make the mattress shift for fear she’d wake him. Much to her surprise, however, he seemed to know she was coming, and rolled over to spoon her as soon as she laid beside him.

Oh, Harry, she thought. I could do this everyday…

Blinking her eyes, she tried her best to hold back the moisture that threatened to fall. What the hell had she just done? She’d known he’d be leaving, and yet she’d let herself…

No. No, she was not falling for him. It was one night of sex. Amazing, mind-blowing, perfect sex. But still, sex just the same. With someone she used to hate, who was famous, even. Perhaps things had come full circle, and despite fulfilling their desire to be lovers, they could still remain friends. But she was determined to leave her heart out of it, no matter what.

With a low grumble, she felt Harry shift slightly before finding his resting spot once again, his arm around her, his breaths tickling her hair as she stared at the wall.

No, she was not falling for him.

The sun shone through the curtains, casting shadows on the opposite wall. Harry had awakened before Bronwyn this time, starting the coffee and bringing her breakfast in bed while Bill Withers sang in the living room.

Lifting a strawberry to his lips, she thought again about the feeling she’d had earlier. This was certainly something she could get used to, but the reality was that she’d never get the chance to.

As if he could read her mind, Harry brought up his leaving the next day.

“I fly out in the morning,” he said.

“I see,” Bronwyn commented, looking down at the plate of fruit.

Harry lifted her chin gently to look at him. “I have all day free though. I wanna spend it here with you.”

Bronwyn took the dishes to the kitchen, laying the tray on the counter as she tried not to let her emotions get the best of her. When she returned, she caught sight of Harry lying back on the bed, one arm behind his head. The dark shadow of his stubble combined with the glow of his tattooed skin in the sunlight took her breath away. He mouthed the lyrics of the song playing until he looked up and saw her stood across the room.

“Wow.”

“What?” he asked.

“You’re just...can I take a picture of you?”

Harry raised a brow as Bronwyn slipped through the beaded curtain to grab her camera. Returning with a smile, she held it up.

“Not to post or anything,” she assured him. “Just for me. A momento.”

“Bronwyn-“

“Please?”

Sitting up, Harry arranged the pillows, then lied back with a sly grin. Climbing onto the foot of the bed on her knees, Bronwyn lifted the camera and took the photo. Just one, because it was all she needed. From the way the sun showed the highlights in his hair to the easy smile on his face, his dimple displayed just a touch and the sleepy look in his eyes, it was perfect.

Pausing, her eye still on the lens, she murmured, “So beautiful…”

With a sigh, she lowered the camera and stared at him, the sun shining behind her through the window. She liked the way he seemed to study her as well, his eyes fixed on hers until they traveled down her body.

“I agree,” declared Harry.

Biting her lip, Bronwyn crawled off the bed and set her camera on her dresser. Turning around, she started to blush when she noticed Harry still staring at her, his face serene.

“C’mere,” he beckoned, throwing the blanket off of the lower half of his body.

Bronwyn’s mouth began to water as she obliged and sat next to him on the bed. Harry pulled her into a kiss, similar to all the others, yet unique in its own right. She tasted the strawberries on his tongue, the sweet aroma filling her nostrils as he began to fondle her breasts. Understanding his intent, she wasted no more time and adjusted her body to straddle his. She kissed him hard and deeply, sucking on his tongue. He moaned against her lips as he laid back again, pulling her with him.

“You wanna be on top this time?” he asked when she sat up to retrieve a condom.

“I might crush you,” she pouted.

Harry let out a loud guffaw which filled the room. “You’re insane, my love. You really have no idea how perfectly sexy you are.”

Bronwyn shrugged and made a face, earning another one from Harry before he took the condom from her.

They made love sweetly and slowly, staring into each other’s eyes before opting for a nap. When Bronwyn awoke, Harry was still sleeping, so she just watched him for a while. He looked so peaceful and happy. She hoped it was partly because of her, though she knew it wouldn’t always be.

After showering and ordering take-out, Harry insisted on raiding her vinyl collection again, getting a better look at it, and choosing some deep cuts he favourited. Lying next to each other on the living room floor with a bottle of wine, they laughed and sang together. Bronwyn wasn’t sure she’d ever felt so immensely happy. Later, she showed Harry some of her work - her photos and other articles and reviews she had written. He was very impressed with her career, and had even recognised a handful of photos that he hadn’t known she’d taken.

“I’ve come a long way from boyband premieres,” Bronwyn jabbed.

“Heeeyyy.”

With a giggle, Bronwyn wrapped her arms around him. “You know I’m just teasing, love. But I do enjoy taking the piss.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Well, I mean, you’ve come a long way too, so it’s not really a joke.”

“Okay, fair enough,” Harry grinned before planting a kiss on her lips.

The evening, though lovely, seemed to drag on as Bronwyn watched the clock, knowing the inevitable was going to happen soon. Excusing herself to the restroom, she allowed herself a moment to cry because she refused to let a single tear shed in front of him. He’d be going on his merry way, and she just had to put on her big girl knickers and face it.

“What’s wrong?” she heard Harry ask when she returned to the sofa.

“Nothing, why?”

“You’ve been crying,” he remarked.

Wow, perceptive, she thought. Can he see right through me?

“Um…” she cleared her throat. “Perhaps we should just do this now, get it over with.”

“Get what over with?” Harry asked, shifting on the cushion to face her.

“The goodbye.”

Harry’s face fell, as did his shoulders. Looking down at his hands, he seemed to study them before looking back up at her.

“I don’t really want to, Bronwyn,” he declared with a scratch to his voice.

“But you leave in the morning. I’m sure you have some packing to do, last minute details.”

“I do, but I can still come by and see you before I head for the airport,” he said.

Bronwyn’s face softened. “Well that sounds all nice and good, but it’s also just delaying the inevitable.”

“If I’m being honest, I’d rather just go on and act like we’ll be seeing each other again after...this.”

“Why?” Bronwyn choked.

“Because...it won’t hurt as bad,” Harry claimed softly.

“Harry…”

His lips crashed into hers before she could say more. Throwing her arms around him, she held on tight, not wanting their lips to ever separate.

When they finally did, she realised she was shaking, her breaths uneven as she tried to control her emotions. Harry caught the first tear on her cheek before she did, leaning his forehead against hers.

“I didn’t think it would be this difficult,” she admitted.

“Goodbyes are always difficult, love,” Harry said softly. “If they were easy, there’d be no heartbreak.”

“Is your heart breaking too? Because…oh, damn it.”

Angrily pushing away another tear from her cheek with her fist, she sat back, giving some space between her and Harry.

“I’m sorry, Bronwyn.”

“I know you are, Harry. It’s not your fault. I just...ugh, I didn’t know I’d feel this way!” she whined as she rose from the sofa and turned her back to him.

Strings of silence threaded the air until Harry finally spoke again. “I didn’t either.”

Sniffling, Bronwyn dared herself not to turn around and look at him. She knew she’d crumble into tiny pieces if she did. Looking down at her hands instead, she gave a wry chuckle.

“I reckon this is payback for hating you for so long,” she confessed.

“No. No, it’s absolutely not.”

“Yeah. Karma’s a bitch.”

Bronwyn hadn’t known he’d risen from the couch until she felt him touch her shoulder and slide his hands down her arms. She listened to his breathing as she continued in vain to try to control her own. When she trembled again with another set of tears, Harry slipped his hands around her waist and hugged her close to his body.

“I wish I could change things,” he said, “but...we both knew how this was gonna end.”

“I know. Doesn’t make it any easier.”

“No. That’s why I don’t wanna say goodbye.” Turning her around, he lifted her chin to look at him and kissed her lips softly. “I’ll call you in the morning, okay? I’ll come by before I leave.”

Unable to utter a word, Bronwyn merely nodded. One more loan tear trickled down her cheek, and Harry wiped it away with his thumb.

“Please don’t cry, love,” he begged. “You’re far too enchanting to cry.”

Bronwyn raised her eyebrows. “Enchanting?”

“Mmm,” Harry nodded, lightly caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. “Perfect word for you.”

“There you go with those lies again. If you weren’t you, I’d tell you to piss off.”

“I only speak the truth.”

Seeing him to the door, Bronwyn’s chest ached, but she reminded herself it wasn’t goodbye.

“Sweet dreams, baby,” Harry murmured before giving her one last kiss. “See you in the morning.”

Shutting the door, Bronwyn leant against it, counting to ten until she knew he must be gone from her building. Then walking through the beaded curtain, she fell down onto the bed, covered herself with the blanket that now smelled like Harry, and cried.

2 March, 2020 - New York, NY, USA… 4:11 AM

The buzzer woke her up, loud and persistent. Disoriented, Bronwyn sat up and reached for her phone, only to remember she’d left it in the other room. Stumbling in the dark, she found it on the table, several notifications from Harry on it, all of them asking to let him in. Still unsure what was going on, she heard the buzzer again.

“Bronwyn, it’s me!” he called when she pressed the intercom.

“Harry, what the hell? It’s four in the morning!”

“Let me in, baby. Please.”

Buzzing him in, Bronwyn could hear his feet coming up the stairs before she swung the door open.

“Harry-“

Her sentence was interrupted by the collision of his body against hers as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Backing her into the apartment, Harry kicked the door shut with his foot.

“What- what are you doing here?” she panted when he released her lips.

“There was a change of plans,” he explained. “They booked me for an earlier flight. I had to see you before I left.”

“When...do you have to leave?”

“Now. In a few minutes. Car's waiting for me outside.”

“Damn it.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just...ugh.”

Crashing into her mouth again, he kissed her lustfully. Bronwyn allowed the moment of passion, knowing the ending was near. This was it. The wonderful week was over, and she may never see him again.

Okay, maybe that’s a bit dramatic, she told herself. But still, who knew when they’d meet again. In another seven years? God, I hope not.

His hands in her hair, Harry whined as he broke the kiss.

“Baby, I...I just couldn’t leave without saying good-”

Bronwyn pressed a finger to his lips like he had to hers the day before. “I thought you didn’t wanna say goodbye.”

Harry shook his head, his brows furrowed as he frowned.

“Then don’t.”

Releasing her finger, Bronwyn cradled his face, kissing him on the forehead, on the crinkle between his eyebrows, down to his nose, and finally his lips. A loud ring startled her as she pressed her cheek to his.

“Fuck,” Harry muttered, pulling his phone from his coat pocket.

Bronwyn’s arms fell as she backed away and allowed Harry to answer the call. She covered her mouth with her hand, the only way she knew to keep the cry from rising from her throat.

“Yeah? I’m here,” he said into the phone. “I know. I’m leaving now.”

Swallowing hard, Bronwyn watched Harry shove the phone back into his pocket before he reached for her again.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I have to go now.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“One last hug, please?”

With a hesitant nod, Bronwyn fell into his arms, inhaling his scent in hopes of keeping the memory forever. Turning for the door, she watched him open it and step out into the hallway.

“I’m so glad we had this time together, Bronwyn. Whether you believe it or not, I think you’re incredible.”

“Me too, Harry,” she muttered.

“See you.”

She shut the door before he even made it to the second step, unable to watch him go. Chewing on her lip, she willed herself not to cry. But suddenly, she felt aimless, clueless as to what to do in her own home. She surely couldn’t sleep now. Feeling the tears start to fall, she wiped her eyes hastily, telling herself it was unnecessary.

“Fuck!” she exclaimed.

Throwing the door open, she ran down the stairs, hoping she could catch him before it was too late. With heavy breaths, she reached the bottom just as he was getting into the car.

“Harry!”

Stopping short, Harry turned around and she was met with tear-stained cheeks that mimicked her own.

“Harry,” she repeated just as he pulled her into a warm embrace.

“Don’t forget me,” she cried into the sleeve of his coat. “Please.”

“Oh love, of course not.” Pulling back to look at her face, he brushed her cheeks with his thumbs. “I didn’t forget you for seven years, after knowing you one evening. How could I forget you now?”

Her face softening, she held onto him as she looked into his sincere eyes.

“Really?”

“Really. I wasn’t lying when I said you’d made an impression on me.”

“You only speak the truth,” she quoted.

A beautiful smile slowly spread across his face, and just like the first time he’d smiled at her that way, she felt weak in the knees.

“That’s right,” he confirmed.

Bronwyn grinned back. “I believe you.”

Tilting his head, Harry planted another deep kiss on her mouth before finally releasing his hold, and letting her go.

“Until next time?” she asked, stepping back.

“Of course, baby. And I’ll give you a ring if I find any more great vinyls that remind me of you. I’m sure there’ll be loads.”

Bronwyn couldn’t help but giggle. “That’d be lovely. Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” he said, blowing her a kiss before climbing into the backseat. “Take care, love.”

Bronwyn stood on the steps and waved until the car was out of sight. She let herself cry then, though she was surprised it wasn’t a flood like she’d anticipated. It was a bittersweet goodbye, like most goodbyes were. She knew she was going to miss him. Perhaps one day...in seven years or seven months...she would have the joy of seeing him again. Until then...there was always the music.

~THE END~

I truly hope you enjoyed reading this as much I did writing it.

Please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

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apolloscastellan · 1 month

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Never quite buried | loss of my life chapter 4

Pairing: Art Donaldson x Tashi Duncan x Patrick Zweig x FemaleTennisPlayer!reader

Summary: Your life had always been divided in two: before you met Tashi and after you met Tashi. The second you had laid eyes on her for the first time you knew you had been changed. You were soulmates, meant for each other Nothing could ever tear you two apart, or so you had thought. You could've pinpointed the junior U.S. Open as the night that changed everything. Now you have to juggle your hate-love relationship with tennis with your love-love relationship with Tashi and the two guys who you can't seem to stay away from. Tennis, after all, was only one of the most fucked up relationships of your life.

Warnings: challengers spoiler, challengers content warnings, super minor character death, terrible mother figure, use of y/n, polyamory.

Word count: 6.5K

A/N: Please let me know what you think bc my motivation is severely lacking rn, i feel like i'm writing into the void

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Tashi remembers perfectly the day your retirement from singles hit the news. It was all everyone could talk about. First, it was the statement on your social media. A well thought out paragraph about your struggles with continuing to enjoy tennis the way you used to and deciding to take a new route, it ended with a promise for more and better news soon. Then it was the teasing posts from Adidas, the “she is not done just yet” and the “love conquers all”. It all came to a peak with the release of the pictures of you and Patrick. Both of you wearing matching Adidas apparel, practicing in the private court you had in your backyard. The chemistry between the two of you was obvious to everyone who saw them. There was a glint in your eyes that no one had seen since you went pro. She knew the smile you were giving Patrick all too well, it used to be reserved for her.

Her and Art, who had just very recently reconnected, sat on his couch for hours watching the tennis channel, waiting for updates. The relief they felt when it was announced that you were not quitting because you were fatally injured, as everyone had originally thought, was short lived. Neither of them spoke as the commentators showed the images of you and Patrick. Practicing, giggling, getting closer, him giving you that teasing smirk they both knew, you throwing your head back laughing, him beaming at you when you weren’t even looking, both of you focused on the ball, kissing… They both thought about turning off the TV, hitting some balls to work out how they were feeling, but then you were introduced into the set, a vibrant smile as you walked in, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt too big to be yours. The Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy logo only confirmed the obvious. You shook hands with everyone, sitting on the sofa they had reserved for you.

“Y/n Y/l/n, thank you for being here” the older man said, over the clapping of the crowd.

“Thanks for having me!”

“What a day it’s been for all of us, tennis fans. You’ve had us on the edge of our seats! First we mourned, now we’re celebrating… Please tell us why did you do this to us?”

“I am so sorry! I am, I really am” you laughed as the man teased you, God how they missed that laugh. “I have a flair for the dramatic, I must admit, and I am, in a way, saying goodbye to my career as I know it. It’s the start of a new chapter, and it’s really exciting, but it is also a goodbye and it felt right to give it its proper moment. I didn’t realize so many people were going to be so upset about it.”

“Why the switch? Why decide to give up singles completely?”

“I wasn’t enjoying it anymore, it was painful and I had started dreading every second of it. Fortunately, I am in a position where I can decide I don’t want to keep doing something that is bringing me down, so I took advantage of it. I didn’t want my stubbornness to completely ruin my love for tennis. I thought I could step back, maybe take up teaching and try to find that passion again. I was going to quit regardless, so this playing doubles thing happened at just the right time.”

“Yeah, let’s talk about that! You’ve decided to become a full time mixed doubles player with Patrick Zweig, who is a challengers player, somewhere in the two-hundreds. You are currently ranked number one in the world, how does this happen?”

“I think rankings and numbers can be misleading sometimes. Sometimes a player is not playing their best because of external reasons, or simply because they are not meant to be where they are. I think me and Patrick are meant to play together, I really do. And if you can’t trust anything else, trust this: I am really competitive and I hate losing, I would not put myself in a situation like this if I really thought we couldn’t win.”

“From what I’ve heard Zweig and you are committed to each other both on and off the court. You’ve never been open about your private life in the media, and he is the first boyfriend you’ve ever made public, what’s different about him?”

They couldn’t take their eyes off you as you let a bashful smile spread on your face.

“I mean… Everything. I am pretty possessive of my privacy and we still don’t plan to share everything we do, but the truth is that I have never been open about any boyfriends because I have not had any serious relationships since I went pro. Patrick and I will be playing and training together so I thought it was bound to come out, so to me, I'd rather have that happen on my terms. And I do think Patrick is very different to all relationships I’ve had before, in the best way possible”

Art swallowed, refusing to look at Tashi when she turned to watch him. He didn’t deserve to be jealous. He knew that, if he had treated you right, you would still be together. That knowledge didn’t change how he felt.

“How does that happen? How does one manage to make the Y/n Y/l/n fall in love with them?”

“Well, me and Patrick met each other a while ago, at the U.S Junior Open, actually. He won it, I got second, we hit it off instantly. But it was one of those situations where it’s never the right time, you know? We kept missing each other, we were in relationships with other people, and we ended up drifting apart when I went pro. And then, funnily enough, we bumped into each other at an Adidas party about a year ago, and the rest is history.”

Art couldn’t bring himself to be angry when the TV shut off. He turned to look at Tashi who stood there with the remote in her hand, not looking at him.

“I’ll see you in ten in the court. We need to work on your serve.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, grateful for the excuse to take his feelings out on the ball. To think about anything that wasn’t your smile as you talked about Patrick. He didn’t say it out loud, but he knew Tashi felt the same way, the sudden urge to train had not come out of nowhere.

New Rochelle, New York. August 24, 2019:

You look down, shaking your head as Patrick crashes his racquet repeatedly against the floor. The umpire’s voice ominously announcing the score. You raise your face back up when Patrick gets given a penalty. Art walks nonchalantly back to the bench, you can feel Tashi’s smug grin beside you. You make eye contact with your husband and shake your head, he rubs his face with both hands, then nods. As much as you both don’t really care to win this tournament, he knows you’ll be angry if he just lets it go, gets angry and in his head and lets Art have it on conduct alone. So he sits back and waits, ready to be better, to prove himself to you once again, like every time he steps on the court.

Earlier that week. New Rochelle, New York. August 18, 2019:

Tashi is working, writing stats on her computer when she sees Patrick walking towards her from the corner of her eye. She rolls her eyes as he stops behind her, pointing at her screen before he speaks:

“He’s not bad, I played him at a few of these things when I did singles.”

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be practicing to not humiliate your wife before she carries you through the U.S. Open?”

“I just finished, thanks for caring.”

“Wonderful” she says, not a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Hey, come have a cigarette with me, I have to talk to you.”

“Yeah I don’t smoke, and I’m not talking to you.”

“Neither do I. It was just an excuse.”

She looks back at him, unimpressed, but he doesn’t let up. He stands there, staring at her until she gives in, closing her computer and standing up. Patrick is not sure what he is doing. He probably shouldn’t be doing anything at all, if he’s honest with himself. But he has dug a hole too deep to jump out of now, so he is going to follow through. He is doing this for you, he reminds himself, no matter how angry you’ll be with him at first, he is doing this for you. They find an empty alley and look back at each other, Tashi waits for him to speak, he takes his time collecting his thoughts before he does.

“I’m gonna propose something to you and it’s going to make you angry. It’s going to make you very angry,” he can’t help the smirk growing on his face, her expression doesn’t let up. “I want you to be our coach next season.”

“What?”

“Our coach is retiring, we need someone else. I want you to be our coach from next season on.”

“Does she know you’re offering me this position?”

“No, not yet. But she will, and she’ll agree with me.”

“You know that’s bullshit. Plus, why would I want to coach you guys? I already have a highly successful athlete under my wing.”

“Yeah, but even if he wins the Open and completes his career grand slam, Art’s still gonna retire as someone who was really, really good. That’s what you guys will have done together. But imagine if you could get your hands on us. Imagine if you could make us great. You’d go down in history. We have a couple more seasons. We still have a couple more good seasons and I need you to bring it out of us. What do you think?”

He doesn’t expect Tashi to slap him, turning his face completely, although he really should have. He mumbles a curse under his breath.

“How fucking dare you?” she sounds angry, too angry for his stupid proposition. “You want me to give you my best piece of advice? To coach you? Ok, quit.”

Patrick can’t even begin to think of a response, the murderous gaze Tashi gives him fixes him to the spot.

“Quit right now, right fucking now, quit.”

“What are you talking about?” he is too shocked to be offended.

“You’re dragging her down. She should’ve gone down in history as the best ever player. She would have broken records. She should have been good enough to beat the men, and she is what? Going around playing mixed doubles with you? It’s pathetic. Quit, and maybe she’ll have a chance at being an ounce of what she should’ve been.”

“You’re fucking joking”

And now Patrick is angry too. Because he is tired. He is so tired of the endless comments and judgment. He is tired of being blamed for ruining you and your career as if it hadn’t been your decision. As if it hadn’t been your idea. As if he was capable of ever doing that to you. As if he hadn’t begged for you to think it over a million times before you took a step that you wouldn’t be able to come back from. As if he hadn’t been the sole reason the world of tennis hadn’t lost you completely. As if he didn’t try harder than he had ever tried to be enough for you and make sure you never resented him or regretted being with him in any way. The thing that makes him the most angry, though, is that it’s Tashi. And how dare Tashi, the woman who had abandoned you and ruined your love for tennis in the first place, blame him for something she had pushed you to do. Something that was nobody’s fault but hers.

“You must be fucking delusional if you think for just one second that I would ever, ever, ask her to give up on her career for me. You know whose idea it was to play mixed doubles only? Y/n’s. She thought of it, she asked me to do it, she orchestrated every single little detail. And you wanna know why she did it? Because she hated tennis. She was going to quit. She couldn’t stand the thing she loved the most anymore. And you wanna know what made her start to hate tennis, even though her love for it never wavered before, not even with her borderline abusive mum who only loved her for her talent in it? You, Tashi. You did. You ruined tennis for her. So get the fuck off that high horse you continue to ride everywhere, because if there’s one person here to blame for ruining her career, it’s the one I’m looking at.”

He is out of breath when he finishes speaking, and he doesn't know what to do. He has so much shit he wants to throw at her, so much resentment for all that she had put you, and him, through. But he can’t say anything else, the second Tashi’s expression falls, even if it is only for a moment, he can feel his heart shatter inside his chest. No matter how much he hates Tashi, how much he resents her, he loves her. He loves her so much it hurts deep inside his chest, like an ache that is so present he had almost forgotten it existed. But looking at her right now, he feels it, pulsating all through him, and he knows, with a certainty he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge before, that he will never not feel this way about her.

“You don’t know what you’re saying” her voice is stern, but Patrick knows her too well to believe her tone.

“You hate me” it’s not a question. “And you hate her too. Me, for having her. Her for having the career you deserved. And it’s driving you crazy, because as much as you hate us both, you also love us. And as much as you love Art, you hate him too.”

“Excuse me?”

“You hate him because he is just Art, that’s all he can ever be. He will never be me, and he will never be her. And as much as you love him, just Art will never be enough for you.”

“I don’t know what gives you the right to speak about my marriage…”

“The same thing that gives you the right to speak about mine. Does Art know about Atlanta?” he cuts her off.

The pure, unfiltered shock on her face lets him know he has caught her off guard. She did not expect him to know about it. She collects herself quickly, but she doesn’t say anything.

“You keep saying you came here because Art needed matches, but I think you came for something else.”

“You think I came here for you?”

“And for her” he says nodding. “I’ve been signed up for this tournament for months, there’s no way you didn’t see my name in the participants list.”

“You think I came here, to throw it all away for you?”

“Maybe you just wanted to see us…”

“I don’t need to see you to know that you look like shit, and she should get as far away from you as soon as possible.”

She starts to walk away, decisively.

“I’m going to beat him,” he says, it stops her in her tracks, she turns her face to look at him. “If we both make it to the final I’m going to beat him.”

“Even if you did, it wouldn’t change anything.”

“It would break him, you know it would.”

She shakes her head and starts to walk away, too exasperated to come up with another hurtful retort about his failed career. She jogs after her, catching up with her pace almost effortlessly. He grabs her arm, makes her stop walking. He pulls up a piece of paper from the back pocket of his jeans.

“My number, in case you change your mind about the coaching… Or about seeing us again.”

“I won’t.”

He nods, shrugs his shoulders. Then, he watches her put the note in her pocket. He smiles.

New Rochelle, New York. August 24, 2019:

Patrick hasn’t looked away from you even once. You know even though you are looking into your lap. You are hyper aware of every single person around you. Most accurately, you are hyper aware of the woman next to you and the two men playing against each other. You play with your ring as you feel Tashi tell Art to focus. When you finally meet Patrick’s eyes he doesn’t smile. He raises his left hand and kisses the ring on his finger without breaking eye contact as the umpire announces the start of the next set. He crosses paths with Art as he makes his way to the other side of the net but he doesn’t move his eyes from you until he is getting ready to serve. You know then, with absolute certainty, that he is doing this for you.

Atlanta Open, Atlanta. July 18, 2011:

Even though Patrick and you both know why you are sitting in the stands during practice time instead of walking around the venue, or actually practicing, you are still shocked when you see Tashi and Art walk into the court. Your hand reaches for Patrick, holding on to his thigh as if on a rollercoaster that is suddenly going down. You both try to look composed and careless, but you don’t know if you are doing a good job. Art and Tashi do the same, pretending they can’t see you, even though you are the only other ones there and you stick out like a sore thumb. Patrick and you talk to each other, although neither of you would be able to recall anything said during your conversation, and share the fries you had bought before walking over. You pretend you just casually stumbled to sit there for a snack, that you hadn’t checked the schedule to figure out what time and what court Art Donaldson had for pre-match practice. Art hits the ball like he hasn’t been able to hit it in a while, grunting as his racket made contact with it. Tashi looks at you for a second, then back at Art. She nods, satisfied. You want to run away, want to erase that satisfied smirk from her face and your memory. But you stay glued to your seat, hand in your boyfriend’s thigh, heart pounding, and you take the way they ignore you like a punishment.

New Rochelle, New York. August 23, 2019:

The wind is relentless, the trees hitting against the window making repetitive thwack noises that remind Patrick of the sound of the ball hitting the racket. You have been answering emails and making calls to finish preparing things for tomorrow, the U.S. Open, and whatever lies in store for you both after that. Patrick knows that you’ve been messaging potential coaches and though the guilt pit on his stomach keeps growing, he can’t bring himself to say anything to you. He hopes you haven’t set in stone anything, because he is still delusionally confident that Tashi will accept his offer. He knows he should help, whatever you are doing affects him too, but he is too nervous to do anything productive so he just lays around, throwing a ball against the ceiling, or the wall, or whatever he can find. After the third time the ball slips from his hand too early or too late and hits you, you stand up and point to the door.

“Leave, right now” he makes no attempt to move. “Patrick, I mean it. I’m working and I know that you are nervous but you’re stressing me out so go down to the sauna, or get a drink or something that’s not going to make me ask you for a divorce or have to spend the rest of the night finding a place to hide your body.”

Patrick smiles as he stands up. He picks one of the keys from your bedside table and walks over to you, kissing your head before making his way to the door.

“I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, love you too. Leave now, please.”

He giggles all the way down the elevator. He doesn’t feel like drinking, which means he doesn’t feel like making a fool of himself tomorrow for getting drunk the night before a match, especially not in front of Art and Tashi. So he walks around until he finds the sauna, maybe that will help him calm down. But as he gets naked and opens the door he can’t believe his bad luck. Although there is a white towel covering his face, there is no denying the naked man sitting right in front of him is Art Donaldson. Patrick doesn’t think there’s a world where he wouldn’t recognize him, no matter how much he’s changed from that scrawny blonde boy he once knew like the back of his hand. He thinks about turning around, walking out, pretending he never saw him, and finding something else to do for the night. But there’s no way Art hasn’t heard the door opening, and Patrick has never been one to run from conflict, not really. So he steps forward, lets his mind get a little bit caught up in the past, sue him he hasn’t seen this guy in years, and opens his mouth:

“Can you do me a favor? Can you not like, demolish me tomorrow?” He says it with the inflection of a pick up line, and before he can even finish his sentence Art is pulling the towel away from his face and looking at him like he already knew that it was him standing at the door, even before he said anything.

They are both smiling as Patrick pulls the sauna door closed and walks toward Art. He is acting far more comfortably than he feels, but if he stops to think about what is actually happening he might start shaking and poop his pants, which would be a terrible thing seeing as he isn’t wearing any. He gets way too close to him, and raises one of his legs on the bench, dick fully on display. Art makes a valiant attempt pretending he doesn’t look down.

“Hey, congrats on being a Phil Tire’s Town Challenger finalist.”

“Yeah, you too” Art says, looking forward to not have to look at Patrick, who is smiling far too wide for the situation they are in and the past that they have.

“Hopefully the wind dies down by tomorrow and we can have a fair fight” Patrick lets himself pretend this is normal, like they are two competitors getting ready for the final, maybe even pals catching up after not having seen each other in a while.

Art doesn’t let him have a second of the little fantasy he’s made up in his head, though. He slides down the bench, getting as far away from him as he can without looking like he is actually running away.

“C’mon, can we talk?” Patrick says, and his voice sounds pitiful even to his own ears.

“Can you put your dick away” Art’s voice is stern, but he looks him in the eye for the first time since he walked in, so he counts it as a win.

“This is a sauna,” Patrick scoffs, putting up a fight so Art won’t notice he’d do anything he told him to. “Look, we've been here for a week and we haven’t said two words to each other. It's just… it’s silly, man. It’s dramatic. I mean, really, why are you so angry with me?”

He sits down, obeying Art and covering his dick. Art is finally looking at him, really looking at him. It has the same effect it did back when they were kids, Art looking at him makes him feel brave. He can’t stop himself from rambling on.

“Look, I don’t buy that it’s because of Tashi, I don’t think it’s because of what happened to her. And I hope it’s not about Y/n, because you have no right… So, I think, maybe, you’re just really disturbed by the fact that they could’ve been into someone like me. Both of them”

“Tashi liked you when we were teenagers.”

“Sure, but I just got married to the girl you said was the love of your life.”

“I ended things with her.”

“And you regret it every single day of your life,” Patrick knew, because it was the same way you and him felt about him and Tashi, “and you know that Tashi does too.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“We both know that if Tashi had been a little more brave back then, she would’ve never taken either of our numbers. If she had been a little bit more honest with herself, she would’ve swept Y/n away and neither of us would’ve had a chance with either of them.”

“That still happened when they were teenagers. When we were teenagers.”

“Huh” Patrick looks thoughtful. “When they were teenagers…”

Atlanta Open, Atlanta. July 18, 2011:

You slip out of your room in a t-shirt that is definitely not yours and the first shorts you stumble across on your way to the door. You can’t sleep and Patrick’s soft snores, which you often find endearing, are getting on your nerves. He doesn’t stir, even as you close the door softly behind you. You don’t know what you are doing, or where you’re going. You take the stairs down, needing to move your body for a little bit. You walk outside, feeling like no matter how hard you breathe in there’s not enough air in your lungs. You lay your weight against the brick wall of the hotel. You get your breathing under control after a couple minutes of staring at the sky trying to look for constellations you don’t know the name of anyways. When you turn around, to go back inside the hotel, you realize that right next to where you were standing there’s a window to the hotel’s bar. There, sitting down, nursing a glass that you can only assume contains something strong, already staring at you, is Tashi Duncan. You don’t know what you’re doing, but you let your feet guide you inside. Then, instead of going up the stairs like you should, you take a right turn and walk right into the bar. Tashi finds you immediately, having been looking at the door. You don’t understand what you’re doing, but before you can think about it you are sitting right in front of her. You haven’t looked at her this up close in years. You search, but you can’t find many differences. She looks exactly like the girl you knew with her hair a little shorter. You wonder if it’s the same on the inside, if the million secrets you knew about her still hold true. If you could still tell which of her smiles were fake, or when she was about to cry but was trying to hold it down.

“I heard you gave up,” she whispers after a minute of staring into each other’s eyes.

“I quit singles, I didn’t give up,” but you can tell she doesn’t really believe you, so you scan her, trying to find something else to talk about. Your eyes lock on the ring in her finger. “That’s a gorgeous ring.”

Your fingers find your own ring instinctively. You don’t know if you’re trying to make sure it’s still there, or if you are trying to ask your dad for strength. Her gaze lowers, first to your ring, then to her own.

“It’s his grandmother’s.”

You nod, you know what that means. Art had always talked about wanting to propose to his future wife with his grandmother’s ring. Back when he fantasized with you about it, it was your hand that ring ended up on. He always talked about taking you to the residency so you could meet his grandmother, completely sure she would love you and give you her blessing immediately. You think of your own sentimental family ring, unsure you would ever be able to trust anyone enough to carry it, no matter how much you loved them.

“How is she?” you ask, more out of politeness than anything else, you never got to meet her, after all.

“She died. Stroke”

You grimace, knowing the feeling of losing the one person who truly believes in you too well. You look around, trying desperately to find something to say, you will your brain to remember the million icebreakers and conversation starters you had been forced to memorize for the awfully boring networking parties your mum used to throw for you. You come up with nothing, so you look back at her and lean over the table and she imitates you. Your faces inches away from each other. You feel drunk even though you haven’t had a single sip of alcohol all day. You don’t question it, Tashi always made you feel like you were going crazy and a little bit drunk. It must be that what pushes you to say what comes out of your mouth next:

“I miss you.”

She doesn’t say anything, but she leans further over the table, getting impossible close to your face without touching it. Then, when you are completely sure she is going to tell you to go fuck yourself and leave her alone, her hand makes her way to the back of your neck pushing you towards her until your eyes meet. There might be a million things that have changed since the last time you did this, but kissing Tashi Duncan feels exactly the same as the first time you did it. It feels like coming home.

New Rochelle, New York. August 23, 2019:

“You’re right” Art says finally, leaning his back against the wall. “I do find it disturbing.”

“There’s no need, man. Lots of girls were into me, but only one of them wanted to marry me. I’ve always thought that was not what I was for, so I don’t know how I did it.”

“Yeah, neither do I.”

Patrick feels his entire skin burn with the way Art looks him up and down. He curses in his head the years they’ve spent apart and the secretive, mature person Art has become, he can’t read him like he could. He can’t tell if he is teasing, or trying to humiliate him. He can’t tell if he’s angry, or just as desperately sad as he is.

Atlanta Open, Atlanta. July 18, 2011:

You don’t know how but you and Tashi have stumbled onto a hotel room that you don’t recognize. It’s much bigger and fancier than yours so you assume it’s hers. You want to ask where Art is, if he is about to walk in on the two of you making out on his bed, but the way she is kissing you makes you forget about everything. You roll onto the bed, hands on either side of her face as hers roam your body freely. It’s too much and not enough simultaneously and you moan and pant on her lips. It’s everything you’ve always dreamt of and you can’t help wanting more. More of her and her body, of her lips, more of her heart. You try to not be greedy, take what she gives you, and soon you’re seeing stars and rolling over, breathing with difficulty.

“That was…”

“Yeah” she mumbles.

“So… What happens now?”

“What do you mean what happens now?” she seems confused as she stands from the bed, walking around until she finds your clothes.

“We just had sex,” you say, obviously.

“Look, we shouldn’t have done this. It was a mistake.” She throws your t-shirt at you, you put it on slowly.

“A mistake?” you’re getting angrier by the second, but you don’t want to yell and alert whoever is sleeping in the room next to this one.

“Yeah, we will act as if nothing happened.”

“What about Art?

“He doesn’t need to know,” you shake your head as you finish putting on your clothes.

“That’s fucked up.”

“Do not act as if I was the only one who cheated! Aren’t you and Patrick dating?”

“I never said that! You can’t just run away from everything you refuse to accept. You haven’t talked to me in years!”

“Yeah, and it should have stayed that way.”

“One day you’re going to wake up and realize that everything you’ve refused to accept all your life is catching up to you, and by then, it might be too late.”

“Get out” she says, instead of replying to what you said, you don’t need to be told twice.

You manage to hold back your tears until you are standing in front of the elevator. You’re fully sobbing when the doors open, revealing a very confused Art. You see him step towards you, but you refuse to let either of them continue breaking your heart. You step backwards, then turn around. You run until you find the stairs. By the time you make it back to your room you look like a mess. You knock on the door, you must have left your key in Tashi’s room but you are too upset to care about that or waking Patrick up. His entire face changes when he opens the door. Worry taking over his expression.

“Y/n, what happened? Where were you?

You fall onto his arms, sobbing. He leads you in, closing the door behind you. You don’t speak until you’re both seating in bed.

“I saw Tashi… And I… We…” you don’t say anything else, but you don’t need to, he understands.

He holds you through the night. The next morning, you forfeit the tournament and go home.

New Rochelle, New York. August 23, 2019:

“Honestly, I thought you’d be happy I was in the draw” Patrick is not ready to let it go, to shut up and walk away from Art, he doesn’t know when’s the next time he’ll be able to talk to him again, so he runs his mouth. “I mean, you’ve always wanted to beat me in a tournament, and two weeks before the open… It’s the perfect confidence booster.

He settles on cocky because he doesn’t know what else to do. He has never been very good at being vulnerable, not with Art, and no amount of therapy is going to make him start now, when he can see how done he is with him from a mile away.

“I know what you’re trying to do right now,” Art smiles.

“I’m not trying to do anything, Art,” but he doesn’t know if he’s telling the truth. “This is a challenger, I don’t need to play mind games with you.”

“Right, you don’t give a shit.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that…”

“We both know that you have a considerably higher stake here than I do.”

“Do I?”

Art laughs, but there’s no real humor to it. Patrick does too, trying to conceal the way he is sure his entire body is shaking.

“Oh, fuck… Where do you get your swagger from, man?” Patrick can tell, from the way Art is looking at him, that this is the part that’s going to hurt, he doesn’t try to stop it. “I mean you come in here swinging your dick around like I’m supposed to be afraid of it but do you realize how embarrassing it is that you are here right now?”

“Not quite as embarrassing as you being here,” Patrick has never known a way to back down, so he stirs the pot.

He’d rather have Art yelling at him or humiliating him than not talking to him at all. His therapist would not be very proud.

“I’m just stopping by, man. You would live here if it wasn’t for her” there’s a pause, suddenly Patrick wants to take everything back, run away with his tail between his legs, but it’s too late. “You know, I’ve always tried to figure out what happened to you, but the more I thought about it the more I realized… It’s what didn’t happen. You never grew up. You still think you can talk to me like you’re my peer because we came from the same place, because you’ve managed to stumble into some of the same competitions. But it’s not about where you came from in tennis, Patrick, it’s about winning. And I do, a lot. And you only do because you tricked Y/n into playing with you. But one day, she’s going to wake up and realize she wasted her entire fucking life in a pathetic man who thinks he’s the shit because he won the junior U.S Open a trillion years ago. And then, you’ll be left with what you deserve: nothing.”

“You’ve never beaten me,” he says, as if it’s what matters out of everything he said.

He says it because if he focuses on what Art said about you, he might cry. He doesn’t want to cry, not in front of Art, not right now. He doesn’t have enough willpower to fight him, like he knows he should, like he did with Tashi.

“So what? I haven’t beaten most of the guys who play in these things, or the ones who only make it into the big tournaments playing doubles. This is a game about winning the points that matter.”

“I don’t matter?” he doesn’t know why he says it, or what he is expecting to get in return.

“Not even to the most obsessive tennis fan in the entire world,” his voice is monotone, tired, Patrick wants to crawl out of his skin.

“We’re not talking about tennis.”

“What the fuck else do I have to talk to you about?”

“I wanted to come in here to wish you good luck, Art,” he says, and he means it.

“That makes no sense,” Art scoffs, looking away, he’s talking to himself more than Patrick.

“I wanted to say that I’m looking forward to it, I miss playing with you,” he is being vulnerable, but he knows Art won’t believe him, which is probably why he says it in the first place.

“Yeah,” he nods his head and he looks amused, but Patrick can see right through him, he’s about to finish him off. “Well, I don’t miss playing with you, man. I’m too old for it.”

As soon as the door is closed behind Art, Patrick lets himself drop onto the bench. He tells himself he is not going to cry. There’s tears running down his face by the time you open the door of your room to him. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t need to, you understand.

#challengers x reader #challengers #art donaldson #tashi duncan x reader #tashi duncan #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #annie writes challengers #patrick zweig x art donaldson x tashi duncan x reader #patrick zweig x art donaldson x Tashi Duncan #loss of my life series

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kingofbodyrolls · 5 months

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My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | nineteen [fin]

🐴Chapter summary: Your sister and Jungkook arrives home from their honeymoon with exciting news. You and Jimin just can’t wait to marry each other, and when you finally get to, it’s like your soul has come home.

🐴Chapter title: Home

🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc

🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.

🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst

🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

🐴Chapter warnings: can you hear the wedding bells???? 💒 there’s fluff, so much kissing, so much love, explicit smut in the form of unprotected sex (slight impreg kink), oral (female and male), hair pulling, use of a degrading name (he calls her nasty a few times, but that’s it), dirty/sweet talk, praise kink, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, biting, exhibitionism (it’s not MC and Jimin this time, lol), there’s also a pregnancy. The smut is just nasty and dirty, but also very sweet and intimate (a lot of bodily fluids 🫣).

🐴Status: completed 🥳

🐴Word count: 18.2k (I’m so sorry, I got very emotional 😭)

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “My Heart’s Home (Drover’s Run)” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: wow. Okay 😭 I feel very emotional with this chapter. It’s a chapter that I have looked forward to writing for many months, since I outlined the whole story, and it’s sweet, it’s cute, it’s romantic!!!! Don’t come @ me, this is a romance story at its core 😭 I just feel sad that it’s ending now, because I truly love these characters so much and it has been so much fun putting them (and you, sorry) through hell and back. These characters will always have a special place in my heart, it’s sorta like with my characters from ‘Friendcation’ 🥹 Anyway, I’m rambling again— I just wanted to take some time to thank each and every one of you, both here on tumblr and on AO3. So many people, regulars even, have commented and engaged with me and this story and fucking shit, it makes me cry with happiness that some people actually like or even love this story 😭 I honestly never thought anyone would, when I outlined it, so it makes me so happy that someone out there loves this like I do. Thank you. Truly. I don’t have enough words to express how grateful I am to you 💖 This is actually the last ‘official’ chapter, so this is actually the end of the story. I’m going to write an extra chapter for you guys— chapter 20, but it will be an epilogue/Q&A thing where you can read what happens with the characters in like a year after the story has ended. There will also be answers to some of the questions you’ve sent in over time, so please look forward to it when it comes out some time soon 🫰

You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜*

*for people on AO3 you can also participate if you want to, just leave a comment (guest/anon or not), and I’ll reply to that and I’ll add your question in the Epilogue💜

** this is the last call to send in asks that will feature in the epilogue. You’re still very welcome to send questions after, I’ll still answer future asks and comments! Thank you!

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

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“The eyes of a child See a long long way See the future see the past They see everything first and last I was that child Who rode these hills In my dreams I see the stars In my dreams I always will Ride these hills See in the morning I’ll hear the rain on the shed But other stars and other sunsets will hang above my head There will be different places different people But I’ll still be the same” - ‘My Heart’s Home (Drover’s Run)’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Jungkook’s black truck remains absent from the yard for two long weeks, and anticipation builds within you for his return alongside your sister from their honeymoon. The longing to reunite with them intensifies with each passing day, driven by a dual desire: one, the longing for their presence, and the other, an eagerness to share your plans to move in with Jimin, a significant step forward in your life that you’re bursting to reveal to them both.

As you gaze out of the living room windows, the glow of the television casting flickering shadows across the room, the familiar roar of an engine reaches your ears, a sound that ignites a spark of excitement within you. With a surge of anticipation, you leap up from the couch, the rhythm of your heartbeat quickening with a mixture of affection and giddiness at the thought of their imminent arrival.

“Jimin, they’re finally back!” Your voice rings out, echoing through the house as you dash through its corridors and burst out into the yard, your excitement palpable in every step. Behind you, Jimin trails closely, his presence adding to the anticipation as he follows from the kitchen, eager to join in the long-awaited reunion.

With an almost reckless abandon, you swing the door open, the anticipation too overwhelming to contain. You and Jimin rush outside, your steps quickening with each heartbeat, until your eyes land on the driveway, where, as expected, the familiar silhouette of the black truck awaits, a beacon of their return and the promise of reconnection.

You’re overcome with a childlike excitement, your heart racing with anticipation akin to a kid on Christmas morning, as you eagerly watch the truck draw nearer, each moment filled with the promise of joy and reunion. Your eyes lock onto the familiar sight of it parking next to Jimin’s blue truck.

With bated breath and a heart brimming with anticipation, you eagerly observe as the truck’s engine fades into silence, and the doors swing open, revealing the figures you’ve been yearning to see: your sister and Jungkook.

Every second is precious as you dash towards your sister, your steps propelled by a surge of longing and affection. You collide with her in a heartfelt embrace, the warmth of reunion enveloping you both as you murmur, “I missed you,” the words laden with the weight of your longing and love.

“Hi,” your sister’s voice emerges slightly strained by the force of your hug, yet filled with the warmth of genuine affection. As you envelop her in your embrace, you draw her closer, reveling in the familiarity of her natural scent, a comforting reminder of the bond that binds you together.

Jungkook stands beside her, his face radiating joy as he juggles two bags, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. After exchanging warm greetings with your sister, you turn your attention to him, enveloping him in a tight embrace, the warmth of your reunion filling the air with a palpable sense of belonging.

Jimin joins you, stepping up beside you with a warm smile as he extends his greetings to your sister and his brother, his smile genuine and welcoming, mirroring the happiness that fills the air.

“Did you have an amazing honeymoon?” You inquire, granting them a moment of privacy as you observe their radiant faces. The subtle sun-kissed glow on their skin sparks curiosity within you, prompting thoughts of the exotic destinations they might have explored during their time away.

“It was so wonderful,” your sister shares, her smile radiant as she recalls their time away. Her eyes sparkle with the memories of relaxation and adventure.

Jungkook releases one of the bags and sweeps a hand through his tousled black hair, a contented smile gracing his lips. “It truly was,” he affirms, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia as he reminisces about the cherished moments shared with your sister.

“Where did you go?” Your curiosity brims over, unable to contain your eagerness any longer as you hang on the edge of anticipation, craving to unravel the mystery of their honeymoon destination.

“We traveled to a tropical island,” your sister reveals, her voice laced with a soft smile that speaks volumes of the cherished moments they shared. In the glint of her eyes, you catch a glimpse of the love and sweet memories woven into every moment of their adventure.

“That sounds so lovely. You can tell us more about it inside, Jimin has made breakfast,” you exclaim with a warm smile, nodding towards the house where Jimin has prepared a meal. With a shared sense of excitement, you and Jimin assist them with their luggage, eagerly ushering them back into the cozy embrace of home.

Inside, you carefully set their bags down in the hallway before kicking off your boots, the anticipation of the delicious breakfast Jimin prepared propelling you into the kitchen. Together, you assist each other in carrying the aromatic dishes to the dining room, where you swiftly set the table and pull out chairs, eager to indulge in the meal. As you all settle in and begin to eat, a serene silence envelops the room, broken only by the rhythmic clinking of utensils against plates.

As you steal glances at Jimin, your heart swells with affection, his presence a constant source of comfort and joy. Turning your gaze to your sister and Jungkook, their happiness radiates, igniting a flutter in your chest as you bask in the warmth of their contentment, a tangible reminder of the bonds that bind you all together.

“I’m dying to know, what were your favorite island adventures? Just spare me the details about how much you fucked,” you jest with a chuckle, pushing your empty plate aside. As you watch them, grinning like lovesick fools, you can’t help but feel a pang of envy mixed with genuine happiness for their shared bliss.

“We mainly just relaxed on the beach, and Kookie ate a lot of food,” your sister laughs, her joy infectious as her smile reaches all the way to her eyes, reflecting the carefree happiness of their tropical escape.

“We also went swimming in crystal clear water and hiked in nature, but that’s about it,”Jungkook chimes in with a grin, punctuating his words with a refreshing sip of water. His smile holds a trace of the exhilaration experienced amidst nature’s embrace.

“How have you guys been? Was it easy to manage both ranches?” Your sister’s voice brims with genuine curiosity and delight, her eagerness to catch up evident in the lilt of her tone.

“Yeah, it was manageable, especially with all the support we had,” you affirm with a nod. “But there’s something important we’ve been meaning to discuss with you,” you continue, your gaze drifting to the table below as a hint of nervousness tingles through your veins. It's a strange sensation, considering your eagerness to share the news and hear their thoughts on the matter, as well as their own plans for the future.

Your sister’s initial surprise doesn’t go unnoticed, but before she can voice her thoughts, you interject gently, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad.” With a reassuring smile, you gather your courage to continue, “Jimin and I have been talking, and we’ve decided that we want to take the next step in our relationship. We want to move in together, right here, at Bell Ranch.”

Your heart races in anticipation as you lock eyes with both Jungkook and your sister, the weight of your announcement settling heavily in the air. Sensing your nerves, Jimin’s hand seeks yours, offering a reassuring squeeze that anchors you in the moment, a silent reminder of his unwavering support and love.

Both Jungkook and your sister share a knowing chuckle, their eyes sparkling with a mix of affection and playful mischief, as if they’ve already anticipated this moment and are delighted by your decision.

“That sounds amazing. You should absolutely go for it,” Jungkook beams, his voice laced with genuine happiness. “In fact, we’ve been meaning to discuss something similar with you,” he reveals, his words tinged with excitement.

You raise a quizzical eyebrow, your curiosity piqued by Jungkook’s cryptic statement.

Your sister leans closer to Jungkook, their connection palpable as she intertwines her fingers with his over the table, a radiant smile gracing her lips. “We’ve been thinking about it for a while,” she reveals, her voice filled with excitement. “We want to take the next step too, move in together. At Bora Ranch.”

Laughter erupts around the table, filling the room with infectious joy until tears well up in your eyes—tears of pure, unadulterated happiness that overflow with the overwhelming love that you feel in your chest.

“That’s absolutely perfect,” Jimin’s smile widens, his touch gentle as he runs his fingers tenderly over your arm, his eyes alight with a warmth that mirrors the sentiment shared among all of you.

“We just need to move our stuff then,” you say with a smile, turning to Jimin and pressing a kiss to his lips. The news of your sister and Jungkook’s plans fills you with a sense of relief, especially since Bora Ranch no longer feels like home, not after the fire. In that moment, as you embrace Jimin, you realize where exactly home is for you, and honestly you’ve known for a while now, and it’s not a place—it’s wherever he is.

“Absolutely, let’s make it happen in the next couple of days,” your sister exclaims with a radiant smile, enveloping Jungkook in a tight embrace as if to solidify their excitement and determination.

“Let’s make it a team effort,” you suggest with a warm smile, leaning your head against Jimin’s shoulder for support. The idea of everyone pitching in to help each other move fills you with a sense of love and familiarity.

A brief, serene moment hangs in the air as you all bask in the warmth of love and excitement. However, as your sister and Jungkook exchange hesitant glances, a sense of anticipation hangs in the air, as though they are on the brink of revealing something significant yet are unsure of how to broach the topic.

“What’s on your minds?” You inquire, a note of concern creeping into your voice as their prolonged silence becomes increasingly conspicuous. Their lingering gazes, fraught with unspoken tension, only serve to heighten your curiosity, compelling you to seek answers to the unspoken questions hanging in the air.

Your sister straightens her posture, a flicker of nervousness dancing in her eyes, though they still sparkle with underlying happiness. Meanwhile, Jungkook’s smile broadens, his eyes shimmering with affection as he tenderly squeezes your sister’s hand.

Your sister draws in a deep, steadying breath, her smile revealing a mix of nervousness and unbridled joy. “Here’s the thing,” she begins, her voice quivering with anticipation. “You’re about to become an uncle and aunt,” she announces, the words tinged with the excitement of impending parenthood, setting the room abuzz with anticipation and elation.

Your eyes widen in realization, the weight of your sister’s words sinking in as your heart swells with overwhelming love. Emotions surge within you, threatening to spill over as tears well up once more, their intensity hitting you with a heavy force. Glancing at Jimin, you find his expression mirroring your own astonishment, his happiness palpable as he shares in the joyous revelation.

Your voice trembles, tears pooling in your eyes as you lean forward over the table, barely able to contain the flood of emotions welling up inside you. “Are you... pregnant?” You manage to whisper, the words laden with anticipation and a surge of overwhelming emotion.

Jungkook’s grin stretches so fucking wide, you fear his face might split in two, his infectious joy radiating throughout the room. Your sister nods, her smile beaming with happiness, though her eyes glisten with tears yet to fall.

“I am,” she confirms, her voice ringing with both certainty and a hint of wonder, as if she’s still coming to terms with the beautiful reality of impending motherhood.

Jimin envelops you in a tight embrace, his arms a comforting sanctuary as tears cascade down your cheeks, each drop a testament to the overwhelming rush of emotions coursing through you. The damp trails mark your shirt, but in this moment, you couldn’t care less about the stains. Amidst the tears, you’re consumed by an indescribable sense of happiness and boundless love, knowing that you’re surrounded by those who cherish you unconditionally.

“No, why are you crying?” Your sister asks, her voice catching with emotion, tears mirroring your own as they trickle down her cheeks.

“I’m just overwhelmed with happiness for you guys, congratulations,” you beam, feeling a swell of joyous emotions engulfing your chest. “These tears are pure happiness,” you add, your smile radiant and genuine, as you revel in the shared joy and anticipation of the precious new life joining your family.

Jimin’s embrace tightens, his affection palpable as he presses a tender kiss to your cheek, his silent gesture speaking volumes of his love and support in this moment of shared happiness.

“We found out during our honeymoon, and we just couldn’t wait to tell you,” Jungkook’s voice brims with pride and happiness, his words resonating with the excitement of this newfound journey into parenthood.

“I couldn’t be happier for you both, congratulations,” Jimin’s voice quivers with emotion, mirroring the heartfelt sentiment that permeates the room. In this moment, it’s evident that the overwhelming flood of happiness is shared by all, binding you together in celebration of this joyous news.

You nestle closer into Jimin’s embrace, thoughts swirling in your mind like autumn leaves in the wind. You’re aware of his desire for children, a notion that’s taken root in your own heart, especially after everything with Deiji. The idea of parenthood with Jimin fills you with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. You want to witness him step into the role of fatherhood, yet you grapple with your own insecurities about becoming a mother.

Despite these apprehensions, you sense a growing readiness within yourself, a quiet confidence that whispers of your eventual readiness for motherhood when the time is right. And now, with the news of your impending aunt-hood, you’re struck with the realization that this journey alongside your sister’s impending motherhood might just serve as the perfect trial run.

Though the child won’t be your own, you’re eager to observe, to support, and to glean insight into the complexities of parenthood. It’s a chance to test the waters, to discover if children truly fit into the tapestry of your future dreams and aspirations.

“I’m going to be an aunt,” you announce proudly, your voice catching with tears and overwhelming emotion. Jimin enfolds you in his embrace again, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the whirlwind of feelings. With each reassuring squeeze, he reminds you of the unwavering support and love he always provides, grounding you in his steadfast embrace.

“This thing’s a beast!” Yoongi grunts, his voice strained with exertion as he joins Jungkook in lifting the hefty dresser from his room.

As they maneuver the bulky dresser down the stairs, Jungkook’s laughter fills the air, a lighthearted counterpoint to the laborious task at hand. While the rest of you have pitched in by packing his belongings, your sister watches eagerly, her desire to help palpable. However, Jungkook remains adamant, refusing to let her lift even a finger, his protectiveness extending to the safety of their unborn child. You can’t suppress a chuckle at the sight, finding it both endearing and slightly excessive given her early stage of pregnancy. You wonder if Jungkook will extend his cautious approach to other activities, maybe even her beloved horseback riding.

In no time, you’ve managed to load Jungkook’s belongings onto the trucks and horse trailer. As you survey the now empty room, save for his bed, a pang of nostalgia washes over you. The stripped-down space feels oddly unfamiliar, a stark contrast to the warmth and personality it once exuded.

With the trailer securely locked, you step outside, relishing the fresh air after the exertion of heavy lifting. Taehyung’s smile beams at the group.

“Now that Jungkook is moving out, can I get his room?” Taehyung’s inquiry is met with a wide grin, his eyes alight with anticipation as he eagerly awaits your and Jimin’s response.

“Do you really want to sleep in that bed? You know they’ve had sex on it a lot,” Jimin jests, a playful grin dancing across his lips. Jungkook simply shrugs, his own smile acknowledging the undeniable truth in his brother’s jest.

Taehyung groans audibly, his frustration evident in the tone as if he’s contemplating a drastic measure like clawing his own eyes out. “I know,” he concedes, his voice laced with determination. “But trust me, once I’m through with it, that bed will be practically brand new. Fresh sheets and a thorough deep clean— it’ll be like sleeping on a cloud.”

A chuckle escapes you involuntarily. Taehyung’s innocence is endearing, prompting a gentle giggle to bubble forth. “I don’t mind you living with us,” you admit with a warm smile. “But the final say rests with Jimin,” you tease lightly, casting a playful glance in Jimin’s direction.

Turning to Jimin with an eager glint in his eyes, Taehyung poses the question, “Can I live with you guys?”

Jimin’s grin widens, radiating warmth as he responds, “Sure. As long as you don’t mind the occasional noises.”

Taehyung emits another groan, his tone tinged with humor. “As long as I’m not witnessing any reenactments of last time, I’m all in,” he quips with a playful eye roll.

Jungkook halts abruptly, his hand hovering over the truck door handle, his curiosity piqued. He strides over to you with purpose, his expression a mix of confusion and intrigue. “What’s this about reenactments?” He inquires, his gaze flickering between you and Taehyung.

Your sister sidles up beside you, her curiosity evident, and you can’t help but offer a subtle eye roll, already anticipating the impending discussion with a mix of reluctance and amusement.

“Yoongi and I walked in on them doing it on the couch,” Taehyung utters with a deep groan, his hand instinctively covering his eyes as if attempting to shield himself from the memory once more.

Jungkook erupts into laughter, giving Taehyung an affectionate pat on the back. “I’m sorry, but let’s face it, we’re all a bit... horny around here. Can’t say you should be too surprised to catch an eyeful or an earful now and then,” he quips with a grin, breaking the tension with humor.

Taehyung lets out an exasperated huff. “I still believe intimacy should stay behind closed doors. You guys are some serious exhibitionists,” he retorts, shaking his head in disbelief.

Laughter erupts among the group, but amidst the mirth, Taehyung’s observation strikes a chord. While you don’t relish being watched, there’s a truth to his words. You and Jimin have a knack for choosing semi-public settings, a fact you’re now forced to confront.

As you pile into the trucks and embark on the journey to Bora Ranch with Jungkook’s furniture in tow, the anticipation of a new chapter fills the air. Upon arrival, a collaborative effort ensues as everyone pitches in to unload his belongings. Once completed, it’s your turn to pack your own possessions for the move.

As you gather your belongings, you find yourself with mostly pre-packed bags and suitcases filled with clothes and the few remnants of decor salvaged after the fire. Among them are the cherished photos Jimin gave you, snapshots of your childhood that hold precious memories. Opting to leave your bed behind, you realize it’s a symbolic gesture as you prepare to share Jimin’s bed permanently, marking a new chapter in your lives together.

“She doesn’t have as much stuff as Jungkook,” Taehyung remarks, gesturing toward your modest collection of bags. It’s true; compared to Jungkook’s substantial furniture, your belongings seem minimal. But within those bags lie not just clothes and essentials, but memories and hopes for the future, making them weightier than they appear.

“I’ve been thinking,” you start, sweeping your hand around the room, still filled with furniture you got after the fire, “and I don’t feel any connection to this new stuff. It’s like it’s just here, not really a part of me. I’d rather start fresh with Jimin, with pieces that mean something to both of us.”

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung says, his tone tinged with understanding, though you’re not sure why he’s apologizing. Maybe it’s just the acknowledgment that things have shifted, that change is inevitable. Like the seasons, feelings change with time, and you’ve come to accept it. This ranch will always hold a special place in your heart, it’s the first place you called home, but you’re eager to forge a new path with Jimin— to create a home that’s uniquely yours.

“It’s okay. I’m excited about living with Jimin, and now having you as a roommate,” you say warmly, enveloping Taehyung in a hug, a genuine smile playing on your lips.

“I gotta ask you something. You’re not a screamer, are you?” He asks, a hint of apprehension in his voice, his expression betraying his worry.

You chuckle, teasingly responding, “Well, I guess you’ll have to find out, won’t you?”

He groans dramatically, adding, “I might reconsider moving in and just staying in the guest cottage.”

Jimin’s laughter fills the room as he playfully adds, “That’s up to you.”

As you descend with your bags, Hoseok and Yoongi join in, shouldering your easel and paintings, a colorful procession of creativity weaving its way to the waiting trucks.

“Do you paint?” Taehyung asks, his curiosity piqued as he catches sight of your easel being carefully loaded into the truck.

“Yeah, it’s my work,” you respond with a proud laugh, a touch of confidence in your voice. The smile on your face reflects the satisfaction and joy you find in your art.

“Wow, that’s amazing! I had no idea,” Taehyung exclaims, his enthusiasm clear as he grins at you. “We’ll definitely have to chat more about it—I’d love some tips! Painting’s a passion of mine too.” His excitement is infectious, prompting you to smile back and nod in agreement, already imagining the creative conversations and shared insights to come.

“I’m going to fetch Mikrokosmos,” you announce with a smile, making your way to the stables to retrieve your horse. As you greet her in her stall, she nuzzles you affectionately, sensing the journey ahead. You lead her out with her halter, guiding her down the yard toward the waiting horse trailer. Mikrokosmos steps in without hesitation, a testament to her trust in you. You secure her safely with a quick safety knot on her halter, ensuring she’s comfortable for the ride.

Once again, you all pile into the trucks and make your way back to Bell Ranch with your belongings in tow. The journey is filled with a sense of camaraderie, and upon arrival, your friends and family pitch in to help you unload.

You carefully guide Mikrokosmos out of the trailer and lead her into one of the paddocks next to the stables. Once inside, you release her, watching as she eagerly trots away, basking in the freedom of the open space.

As you take in the serene scene, you catch sight of Yoongi and Hoseok making their way inside to grab some cold beers. As the work wraps up, the sky is painted with hues of twilight, and the sun dips below the horizon.

Jimin, ever the gracious host, fires up the grill, the sizzle of the barbecue adding to the evening’s ambiance. The inviting aroma of grilling food wafts through the air, promising a satisfying meal to cap off the day. The scene feels like the perfect conclusion to a day of teamwork and togetherness, as you all prepare to share a delicious dinner under the night sky.

Jungkook joins his brother at the grill, their teamwork evident as they skillfully tend to the sizzling meat and vibrant grilled vegetables. When you return to the porch, the savory aroma envelops you, the smoky scent of the food teasing your senses and making your mouth water in anticipation of the feast to come.

Jimin sets a relaxing ambiance by playing soft music on the speakers, the melodic tunes complementing the twinkling stars overhead. This serene setting envelops you in a sense of comfort, surrounded by love and the warmth of friendship and family. As Jimin serves everyone food, you settle in to eat, savoring the delicious meal while sipping on a cold beer and refreshing water.

Yoongi breaks the serene silence with a knowing smile and a playful glint in his eyes, asking, “So, how’s married life treating you?”

Jungkook chuckles, a playful tone in his voice. “It’s pretty much like ‘regular’ life,” he remarks, using air quotes and a lighthearted grin to convey the experience of married life.

“But we love it,” your sister adds, her voice brimming with happiness and love, the warmth of her sentiment echoing in the glow of her smile.

A smile tugs at your lips as you imagine the day you’ll marry Jimin, the thought filling you with a rush of anticipation and warmth. You turn your head towards him and lean into his embrace, finding comfort in his steady presence. As you rest your head against his strong shoulder, you share a tender smile with him, a silent promise of the beautiful future you both envision together.

Resting your head on Jimin’s shoulder, you watch as your friends and family chat about everything under the sun. Occasionally, you join in, but you mostly listen, soaking up the joy and familiarity that fills the air. The comforting blend of Jimin’s musky scent surrounds you like a warm embrace, filling you with love and serenity. The gentle rhythm of his heartbeat against your body harmonizes with your own, the two of you perfectly in sync, a quiet yet powerful reminder of your deep love.

For a moment, you close your eyes and let yourself truly savor this idyllic scene with your friends and family, the sounds of laughter and conversation swirling around you. As you bask in the warmth of this perfect moment, a profound realization washes over you: you’ve been granted everything you once dreamed of. The rift with your sister has healed, something you once thought impossible. You’ve rekindled your relationship with your childhood friend and crush, and soon you will marry him. The sheer serendipity of it all feels almost surreal as you reflect on how life has brought you full circle.

In the two years since your return, your journey has been marked by a whirlwind of experiences—mistakes, challenges, and triumphs. Each one has played a vital role in molding you into the person you’ve become. These moments of growth have paved the way for your present strength and resilience.

The infectious laughter of those around you envelops your ears, amplifying the love and warmth that fills the air. This moment holds a unique magic, one that you can’t quite put your finger on but know instinctively is special. It’s your first official day living with your fiancé, and as each day passes, you draw closer to the dream of calling him your husband. The anticipation of the future mingles with the beauty of the present, creating a moment you’ll cherish forever.

You eagerly anticipate the day you’ll exchange vows and begin your life as a married couple. The thought of your wedding day fills you with joy and excitement, knowing that it will mark the start of a beautiful, lifelong journey together.

Jimin guides the truck to a stop in front of the jewelry store, silencing the engine with a twist of the key. The building’s polished windows reflect the bright sunlight, hinting at the treasures inside as the two of you prepare for a special moment in your lives.

“Is this where you got my engagement ring?” you ask Jimin, glancing at the golden band with its stunning purple gemstone on your finger. You lift your gaze to him, your heart racing with anticipation as you smile, cherishing the beautiful memory of how he proposed to you in the muddy rain.

“Yes, I did,” he confirms with a soft smile. “And I have a feeling we’ll find the perfect wedding bands here too.” Leaning across the center console, he gently cups your face and pulls you in for a deep, sweet kiss that fills you with warmth, his affection radiating through every touch.

You savor the touch of his soft lips on yours, the way they fit perfectly against yours, as if you were made for each other.

“Come, love,” he murmurs, pulling back with a lingering smile. He opens the door and steps out, waiting for you as you follow suit.

Outside, Jimin takes your hand in his, the warmth of his touch sending a rush of affection through you. Together, you walk toward the store’s entrance, feeling a sense of anticipation. Jimin opens the door for you, the soft chime of the bell welcoming you into the world of sparkling jewels and possibilities.

Your eyes are met with an array of displays, each one showcasing exquisite jewelry in various metals and vibrant gemstones. The dazzling assortment leaves you momentarily unsure where to focus your attention. Feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sheer variety, you turn to Jimin, trusting his experience with the store to guide you through the selection process.

A woman elegantly dressed in a black pencil skirt and crisp white blouse approaches you with a welcoming smile. “Hi, how can I help you?” She asks, her gaze briefly resting on your intertwined hands. As she meets both of your eyes, her expression lights up with recognition. “You’ve returned!” She exclaims, her gaze lingering on Jimin's face as a hint of familiarity crosses her features.

You offer a hesitant smile, the sense of familiarity between the woman and Jimin making you feel slightly nervous. Jimin, however, greets her with a friendly smile and a nod, acknowledging the recognition.

The woman glances at you with a knowing smile. “I take it she said yes, and she loves the ring?” she asks, her gaze settling on you as she sees the engagement ring on your finger.

You smile and nod, acknowledging the woman’s question. The conversation feels a bit strange, being discussed as if you weren’t present. Despite this, you try to remain polite and gracious, eager to continue with the task at hand and find the perfect wedding bands.

With a gentle smile, she says, “Congratulations! Are you here to find the perfect wedding bands today?”

Both you and Jimin reply in unison, “Yeah!”

Your simultaneous response triggers a burst of laughter, easing the slight nervousness you felt as it dissipates into the air.

The woman guides you to a display filled with a stunning array of rings, predominantly wedding bands in various styles and materials. “These are our selections, and there are more on this display right here,” she explains, pointing to a neighboring case. “Take your time to browse and let me know if you see something you like,” she adds with a warm smile before stepping back to give you some privacy.

You both nod in acknowledgment, turning your attention to the two displays she indicated. The sheer variety of rings is a bit overwhelming, leaving you unsure of what you want—or what Jimin might like. Seeking his opinion, you turn to him and ask, “What do you like?”

Jimin offers you a warm smile as he surveys the selection. “I think something classic,” he muses, his gaze skimming over the array of rings. “Nothing too flashy, just something timeless that suits us both.”

You nod in agreement. “I think that’s the way to go—something classic and timeless.”

“Yes, I like that idea,” he agrees. Together, you browse the display of rings, taking in the classic gold bands, sleek silver options, and even some adorned with delicate stones. The variety offers a range of choices, each with its own unique appeal.

Your eyes catch on something that stands out—it’s not a traditional classic band, but there’s an intriguing charm to it. You point it out, intrigued. “What about this one?” You ask, indicating a wedding band with a unique design. The band blends classic and modern styles, featuring intertwined silver and gold in an elegant twist, creating a captivating visual effect.

“I know it’s not the traditional style, but there’s something so beautiful about it,” you say, your voice thick with love and affection as you admire the ring’s unique design.

“It’s beautiful—almost like a blend of classic and modern,” he says with a smile, squeezing your hand gently. “I really like it.”

“Do you think this is the one?” He asks, his eyes shining with anticipation. You nod enthusiastically, your smile beaming back at him.

“Yeah, I think that’s the one.”

You signal to the store lady, who promptly approaches and carefully removes the ring from the display. As she hands it to you, you turn it over in your hands, examining it closely. The smoothness of the metal and the intricate twist of silver and gold seem to encapsulate the unique blend of your relationship. This ring feels like a tangible symbol of the fusion of your love for each other, and its perfect balance fills you with certainty.

Jimin asks the store attendant with a gentle smile, “Would it be possible to have them engraved?”

She nods enthusiastically, a joyful smile lighting up her face. “Absolutely, what would you like engraved on them?” She asks, her excitement mirroring yours as you prepare to add a personal touch to your chosen rings.

“Our names and the date we first met as kids,” Jimin explains, writing down the details on a piece of paper—your names, the meaningful date, and your ring sizes—and handing it to the store lady.

The store attendant’s face lights up with a bright smile, her happiness evident as she absorbs the details. “That’s incredibly sweet,” she remarks, her voice filled with warmth. “Were you childhood friends?” Her eyes glisten with emotion, touched by the story of your enduring bond.

“Yes,” you both respond in unison, leaning into each other with smiles that reflect your history and deep affection.

“I love it,” she says, her voice brimming with warmth. “I’ll have the rings ready for you in a couple of weeks. I can ship them to you by mail if that’s alright?” She asks, her tone filled with genuine care for your special request.

“That’s perfect,” Jimin agrees with a nod and a warm smile. He completes the payment for the rings, and the two of you make your way back to his truck, holding hands and looking forward to the future together.

As he gazes at you with such intensity, you can feel the depth of his love, as though you are his entire world. It’s a moment that takes your breath away and leaves you with a profound sense of gratitude. The anticipation of marrying him swells within you, making your heart race with excitement for the future you will build together.

The door swings open abruptly, and Jungkook strides into the living room, momentarily disrupting your cozy evening with Jimin. You’re sprawled on the couch, sharing a relaxed moment while watching your favorite dating reality show, which the two of you often enjoy critiquing with playful banter.

You hear Jungkook’s groan and immediately shift your attention to him, taking in his furrowed brows and anguished expression. Concern washes over you as you watch him take a defeated seat next to Jimin, his body language revealing that something is weighing heavily on him. The lighthearted mood in the room shifts, and you brace yourself for what's coming next.

“What’s going on, Kook?” You ask, your voice laced with curiosity and a touch of apprehension. Jungkook’s defeated demeanor has you on edge, and you hope whatever is troubling him isn’t as serious as it seems.

Jungkook groans once more, sinking deeper into the couch with a look of exasperation. “It’s your sister,” he mutters, his tone heavy with frustration or concern.

At the mention of your sister, you flinch, an instant jolt of concern propelling you to move closer to Jungkook. Practically crawling over your fiancé to get a clearer view, you urgently ask, “Is everything alright? Did something happen?” The worry in your voice is undeniable as you brace yourself for his response.

Jimin lets out a grunt as you inadvertently put your hands and most of your weight on his thighs. He shifts beneath you, making room for you to get a better view of Jungkook while you’re practically sitting on him. Despite the sudden pressure, Jimin’s presence provides you with the stability and support you need as you focus on Jungkook with concern etched across your face.

Jungkook shakes his head, his expression a mix of frustration and amusement. “No, it’s nothing serious—just the pregnancy.”

Frustrated by Jungkook’s vague response, you reach out and grab his shirt, pulling him closer with a determined glint in your eyes. Your face inches away from his, you hiss, “If you don’t tell me what’s going on right now, I’ll make it so this will be the only child you ever have.”

Both Jimin and Jungkook recoil slightly at your intense threat, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Jungkook exhales a huff, his expression a mix of surprise and reluctant amusement. “Wow, that’s quite the threat,” he remarks, attempting to diffuse the tension. “I was going to tell you, just calm down.”

You roll your eyes in exasperation, releasing your grip on Jungkook’s shirt. As you settle back into your spot beside Jimin, you relax against him, resuming the comfortable lounging position you had been in before the interruption.

The moment of tension dissipates, but your curiosity about the situation remains.

“Talk,” you demand, the edge in your voice leaving no room for misinterpretation. The seriousness in your tone serves as a clear warning that Jungkook should tread carefully to avoid provoking your anger.

“Well, Jessi’s been dealing with nonstop nausea, and her mood swings are off the charts,” Jungkook begins with a frustrated groan. “One minute she’s furious, the next she’s in tears, and then suddenly she’s super emotional and wants to be intimate all the time. It’s a rollercoaster, and I’m struggling to keep up.”

You and Jimin both burst into laughter, relieved by Jungkook’s predicament and thankful that there was nothing seriously wrong. The shared humor lightens the mood, easing your earlier tension and allowing you to relax back into the couch, reassured by the knowledge that Jungkook’s concerns were more about the trials and tribulations of parenthood than any serious issue.

“She’s pregnant, Kook. Those things happen to some pregnant women,” you say with a shrug, your tone gentle as you offer some reassurance to Jungkook. Leaning into Jimin’s comforting touch, you nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck, finding solace in his embrace as you reflect on the challenges your sister is navigating.

“Maybe, but I’ve never seen her like this before,” Jungkook admits, a mix of concern and frustration coloring his voice. “She’s so emotional, and she seems so fragile when she’s usually so tough,” he adds with a sigh, grappling with the unexpected transformation of your sister.

“Just hang in there—only seven more months to go,” Jimin reassures Jungkook with a gentle pat on his back.

“You and Jessi will make it through this together.”

“So, is this your escape from her wrath?” You ask with a chuckle, a playful smile on your lips. Your teasing tone lightens the mood a bit.

Jungkook buries his face in his hands and lets out a groan. “Yeah,” he admits, his voice filled with a mixture of frustration and resignation.

“She was crying because the dishwasher wouldn’t start,” Jungkook begins, and you can feel a flicker of anger at the thought that he might have left your sister in distress. But then he continues, “And when I tried to fix it, she got so mad at me and told me to leave.”

Jungkook appears slightly emotionally drained, and you can understand why. Your sister has always been a strong-willed, independent person with a quick temper—traits that pregnancy may have intensified. You can’t help but feel relief that you don’t live with her anymore, though you sympathize with Jungkook’s predicament.

“I’m sorry,” you say, trying to balance humor with understanding. “But I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean for you to actually leave the property.” You let out a soft, empathetic laugh, your voice tinged with melancholy. “Why not head back and give her a hug? It might be just what she needs right now.”

Jungkook nods in agreement and rises from the couch. “You’re probably right,” he concedes with a resigned sigh. “I’ll head back and apologize.”

“Catch you later, Kook,” you and Jimin chime in unison, exchanging a playful glance. You gaze up at Jimin’s face as you rest against his shoulder, tracing the familiar patterns of his cute moles with your eyes and feeling a warm sense of comfort.

“Do you think I’ll be like that too when I’m pregnant?” You ask Jimin, your question hanging in the air between you. You can feel his heart rate quicken, a sign of his sudden nervousness or excitement at the thought. He shifts slightly, turning his head toward you and pulling you gently away from his body to meet your gaze. His eyes lock onto yours with a tenderness that speaks volumes, as if searching for the right words to offer reassurance or express his own thoughts about the possibility of starting a family together.

“When you get pregnant?” Jimin echoes your question, a hint of uncertainty coloring his voice. His curious gaze locks onto yours, as though he’s trying to grasp the full meaning of your words. His expression suggests he’s unsure whether he heard you correctly, leaving you with a sense of anticipation for his reaction.

You bite your lip and give a nod, confirming his question, “Yeah.”

“You want to have kids with me?” Jimin rephrases the question, his wide eyes shimmering with the hint of tears. His joy is palpable, his beaming smile nearly breaking free as he processes the profoundness of your admission.

“Yeah, I told you before. I’ve been thinking about it more. I want to have kids with you,” you say, your smile soft and sincere as you cup his face with your hand. “A little one with your beautiful eyes, your full lips, and those adorable cheeks,” you add, your voice filled with affection. “And they’ll inherit my amazing personality too,” you tease playfully, imagining the perfect blend of your best traits in your future child.

Jimin begins to sob, tears streaming down his face as he struggles to steady his uneven breathing. Your heart aches seeing his emotional response, and you gently wipe away his tears with a comforting touch. “It’s okay, love,” you soothe, your voice soft and reassuring, offering him a sense of calm and safety as he processes the moment.

“I’m just so happy,” Jimin says, his voice breaking as he chokes back tears. “To know that you truly want kids... I was never sure if it was something you really wanted or if you were just saying it to make me happy. I would never want you to feel pressured into this, you know that, right?” His eyes glisten with a mixture of love and happiness, reflecting the depth of his emotions.

You nestle closer to Jimin, kissing him deeply as you whisper, “Oh, Jimin, don’t worry. The thought of having kids with you fills me with so much love. Just imagining a little one with your beautiful eyes and infectious smile running around lights up my world.” As your lips meet his, you savor the connection, even tasting his salty tears. In this moment, your love for him overwhelms you, making everything else fade into the background.

“I’ll go find Tae and let him know dinner’s ready,” you announce to Jimin, Yoongi, and Hoseok, who are already settled at the dining table enjoying their meals.

You step outside, heading down the yard towards the stables where the light still glows, suggesting Taehyung might be there. It’s the most likely spot to find him, and as you walk, the evening’s cool breeze adds a calming touch to your purposeful stride. The stables, with their comforting familiarity, seem like the perfect place to begin your search.

As you step inside the stables, you’re met with an unexpected chorus of grunts, moans, and heavy breathing. The sudden sounds catch you off guard, causing your body to freeze in place. A blush quickly creeps up your cheeks, spreading to your ears as you process the intimate noises.

You grapple with the shock, as your heart races, realizing you’ve just walked in on an intimate moment. It’s a strange mix of embarrassment and disbelief, feeling like an uninvited guest in a private scene. Then it hits you—the irony of their choice to be so bold in such a public setting like the stables.

Despite the initial shock, you decide to proceed further into the stables, taking careful, deliberate steps down the aisle. You make sure to create noticeable sounds with your movements, whether by deliberately stepping harder or shuffling items along the way. This way, you aim to signal your presence and give whoever is there a chance to respond or adjust to your unexpected arrival.

“Tae?” You call out into the room, your voice echoing through the stables. Almost immediately, you hear the sound of shuffling, followed by grunts and the soft murmur of curses.

“What?” Taehyung grunts from where he’s hidden among the hay. The sound of his voice elicits a mischievous smile from you as you imagine the flustered scene you might have interrupted.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Ara’s voice reaches you, carrying a note of embarrassment and guilt. You sense her distress, but you take it in stride, not overly concerned by the situation.

“I just wanted to let you know that dinner’s ready,” you announce in a matter-of-fact tone as you turn to leave. “Come down whenever you two are finished.”

You can’t help but chuckle, the irony of the moment not lost on you. “You really are a hypocrite, Tae.”

As you hear more shuffling and rumbling noises behind you, you can’t help but shake your head and close the stable doors with a sense of amusement. The absurdity of the moment strikes you, and you laugh so hard that your stomach begins to ache from the intensity of your laughter.

“It’s been ages since we went for a ride just for fun,” you say with a smile as you and Yoongi trot through the lush green landscape. The freedom and simplicity of the moment bring a sense of nostalgia and joy, reminding you both of the simple pleasures that life offers.

Yoongi chuckles, a rare glint of lightness in his eyes. “Yeah, it’s a nice change of pace,” he says, his tone carrying a hint of appreciation for the moment.

You urge your horses into a gallop, with Yoongi on Holly and you on Mikrokosmos, the rush of speed and the exhilaration of freedom washing over you. The wind plays with your hair as you give the horses free rein, allowing them to kick up dirt and race to their heart's content. This moment of wild abandon brings a thrill that makes your heart soar and brings you closer to the essence of being alive.

You’ll never tire of this feeling—the sensation of flying and floating as you ride your horse through the open air. The caress of the wind on your face as you gallop through nature is an experience unlike any other, a rush of freedom and exhilaration. Even though you don’t currently need healing, the simple act of horseback riding has always been a source of peace and rejuvenation for you. It’s a therapy that soothes your soul and brings you back to your center.

You and Yoongi ride for a long while, enjoying the tranquility of the journey, until you approach the edge of a dense forest. Together, you guide your horses to a halt, stepping down and allowing them to graze on the lush green grass around you.

As you take a seat on the soft grass, the serene surroundings envelop you. The shade of the forest offers respite from the sun, and the sounds of nature—rustling leaves and distant bird calls—create a calming backdrop. It’s a moment of perfect harmony with the natural world, a peaceful interlude where you can fully absorb the beauty and stillness of your surroundings.

You settle down next to Yoongi, and you take a moment to savor the quiet companionship you share. The simplicity of your friendship brings you a deep sense of contentment, and you can’t help but feel immense gratitude for the day you met him. His presence is a constant source of comfort, and you appreciate the easy friendship and understanding you both share.

For a moment, you exchange a knowing look with Yoongi, a silent understanding passing between you. There’s no need for words—you both feel the same deep sense of appreciation for this quiet companionship. You cherish how you can simply be in each other’s company, enveloped in the serene embrace of nature, without the need for constant conversation. The unspoken bond you share is a rare and beautiful thing, a testament to the strength of your friendship.

Yoongi suddenly turns to you, his expression a mix of anticipation and nervousness. “I’m going to ask Hobi to marry me,” he confides, his voice carrying the weight of the monumental decision he’s about to make. His eyes lock onto yours, searching for your reaction, and you can sense the depth of his emotions—love, excitement, and a hint of apprehension.

You’re taken aback by Yoongi’s revelation, but simultaneously, it’s not entirely unexpected. You’ve observed his growing interest in the idea of marriage over the past few weeks, noting his thoughtful questions and contemplative musings on the subject. His decision to propose to Hoseok feels like a natural progression, given the depth of their relationship and his recent reflections on commitment and partnership.

You envelop Yoongi in a tight hug, a warm smile lighting up your face. “You absolutely should. I’m so happy for you, and I have no doubt he’ll say yes.” Your voice carries genuine excitement and encouragement, affirming Yoongi’s decision and offering him your full support.

Yoongi chuckles as you hold him close. “I hope so too,” he says, his voice filled with warmth and a touch of nervousness. “I really love him more than anything.” His words reveal the depth of his feelings for Hoseok, making the moment even more touching and heartfelt.

You nod, your expression earnest. “I know, and you both deserve all the happiness in the world.” Your words carry a deep sense of conviction, affirming your belief in their love and your wish for their future together.

You release Yoongi from the hug and lean into his shoulder, offering him your silent support.

“You too—have you thought about when you want to get married or what kind of wedding you’d like?” Yoongi asks, his curiosity evident in his tone. He’s genuinely interested in hearing about your plans for the future, showing his investment in your happiness and his desire to share in your excitement.

You let out a thoughtful sigh. “I’m not sure yet. We’re leaning towards something small and intimate,” you admit, your voice thick with love as you chuckle. “Honestly, I just want to marry him already, but we haven’t set a date yet. Maybe it’s time we do.”

“I understand completely. If you need any help at all—setting a date, picking out invitations, choosing your dress, anything—you know you can count on me,” Yoongi offers warmly, pulling you into a supportive hug. His reassurance and willingness to assist in the wedding planning process highlight his genuine care for you and his desire to help make your special day as perfect as possible.

“You’re my best friend, and I want you to have the most perfect, happiest wedding day,” he continues, his words brimming with sincerity and affection. As you hear his heartfelt sentiment, you suddenly feel a few tears on your hand, realizing how much his support and friendship mean to you. In response, you wrap your arms around him even tighter, embracing the depth of your friendship and the love you share.

“Jimin!” You call out excitedly, rushing through the house and into your bedroom with a package in your hand. Your enthusiasm makes you push the door open with more force than intended. Your heart races with love and anticipation, as you can’t believe the moment has finally arrived—your rings are here.

Just as the jeweler had promised, the rings have arrived a few weeks after you and Jimin selected them together. It’s been a month since you made your choice, and now the moment you’ve been eagerly waiting for is here.

Jimin groans, still caught in the haze of sleep as you crawl onto the bed beside him. With a gentle touch, you shake him awake, your excitement palpable as you prepare to share the moment with him.

“What is it, love?” He asks, his voice heavy with sleep as he slowly comes to. His groggy state doesn’t dampen the affection in his tone, and you can tell he’s ready to listen despite his drowsiness.

“It’s our wedding rings! They’re finally here,” you exclaim, your smile radiant despite the early hour. You can’t contain your excitement, and the joy in your voice is infectious. The thought of holding your rings brings a sense of happiness and anticipation that overshadows the sleepiness of the morning.

Jimin’s eyes snap open at your words, fully awake now. His gaze locks onto the package in your hands, then shifts to you in your silky nightdress. As he runs a hand through his tousled blonde hair, he bites his lip in anticipation, his excitement mirroring yours.

“Now that the rings are here, maybe we should talk about what kind of wedding we want,” you muse as you stretch out beside Jimin.

Jimin chuckles, his smile warm and affectionate. “Yeah, we’re not exactly known for our planning skills,” he admits with a playful tone.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, locking eyes with Jimin. “But let’s take some time now to discuss it so we can make plans.” The love in his eyes is overwhelming, and you feel like you could lose yourself in them.

With a soft smile, you run your hand over his bare skin as he lounges on his side. “Do you still want to keep the wedding intimate and small?” You ask, your fingers tracing gentle patterns, the warmth of his body a comforting presence against your touch.

“Yeah, I do,” Jimin responds with a smile, his eyes twinkling with warmth. “We don’t have a big family, and I just want our closest friends and family there.” He lets out a soft giggle as your playful touch lingers on his torso, enjoying the intimacy and lightheartedness of the moment.

“I want an intimate wedding too,” you say, pulling closer to Jimin as you share your thoughts. “If we just want our closest loved ones there, why not have the wedding soon? Everyone is already here.” Your suggestion brings an exciting immediacy to the conversation, hinting at the possibility of a heartfelt, spontaneous celebration of your love.

Jimin’s eyes light up with realization, and he nods, his excitement palpable. He bites his lip thoughtfully, a lovely smile spreading across his face as he processes the idea. The notion of an intimate wedding with your loved ones already present clearly resonates with him.

“You’re right. Why wait?” Jimin responds, his voice filled with eager excitement. You watch as his body trembles slightly, a visible manifestation of the anticipation and love that courses through him at the thought of marrying you sooner rather than later.

“Today?” Jimin’s body radiates love and anticipation, and his infectious excitement mirrors your own. You can’t help but break into a smile as you straddle him, looking down at the person who means everything to you. In that moment, you’re overwhelmed by the thought of marrying him right then and there, the desire so strong it fills your heart to the brim.

“Today,” you reaffirm, your voice filled with conviction and exhilaration. Your heart races, almost bursting from your chest with the overwhelming love you feel. The realization that you might get married today sends a thrill through you—you’re ready and can’t wait to take this monumental step.

You surge forward, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss that lasts for minutes. Your lips begin to ache from the intensity, but you barely notice—it feels too good, his taste intoxicating, his touch igniting a fire within you. You savor every moment, lost in the connection, in the depth of your love for him.

“Wait, we don’t have an officiant,” you suddenly realize, your excitement giving way to a moment of concern. “And on such short notice, how can we find someone out here?” Your disappointment is clear as your heart sinks at the thought of delaying your wedding plans. The longing to marry Jimin as soon as possible, now that you have your rings, feels urgent and immediate.

“Yeah, we need an officiant,” Jimin agrees with a groan, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’ll ask Yoongi if he knows anyone who can help us out.” His quick-thinking response offers a glimmer of hope, suggesting a possible solution to your dilemma.

“We’ll ask him together,” you say playfully, running your fingers teasingly over Jimin’s chest. Reluctantly, you slide off him and get out of bed. “Come on, let’s get dressed.” Your voice carries a mix of anticipation and mischief, hinting at the adventure you’re about to embark on together as you prepare to speak with Yoongi.

Together, you hastily dress, the thrill of your mission adding a sense of urgency to your movements. You rush down the stairs and make your way outside, heading straight for Yoongi’s cottage with excitement propelling your steps. The anticipation of making your spontaneous wedding plans a reality fills the air.

You knock on the door, expecting a quick response, but when none comes, you decide not to waste any time. “Forget it,” you mutter, pushing the door open with determination. Your eagerness to speak with Yoongi outweighs any hesitation about barging in unannounced, driven by your desire to make your wedding plans a reality.

Yoongi and Hoseok are still asleep when you enter, and you briefly regret interrupting their rest. However, you remember that Yoongi told you to seek his help with your wedding planning, so you press on. With Jimin behind you, you approach Yoongi and gently poke his face to wake him. “Yoon, wake up,” you whisper, trying to rouse him without causing too much of a disturbance.

Yoongi grumbles, slowly stirring from sleep.

“What?” He mumbles, his voice thick with grogginess. His half-asleep state makes him sound less than enthusiastic, but the familiar tone in his voice reassures you that he’s ready to hear what you have to say.

“Do you know anyone who can officiate our wedding?” You ask, a bright smile on your face as you observe Hoseok stirring awake beside Yoongi.

Yoongi groans, his voice heavy with sleep as he mutters, “Yeah, I know someone.”

“Great, just give me their number, and we’ll leave you alone,” you say, trying to minimize the disruption of his sleep. Although you feel a twinge of guilt for waking him, you reassure yourself that he would be up soon anyway, hoping your request doesn’t cause too much inconvenience.

“You already have it,” Yoongi grumbles, his voice still thick with sleep as he turns over in bed to face Hoseok, who is now fully awake.

“What do you mean?” Jimin asks from your side, his curiosity evident in his voice. He looks between you and Yoongi, trying to understand the situation.

“I got ordained a couple of weeks ago, after our wedding talk,” Yoongi explains, still facing away from you as he speaks. His words catch you off guard, a pleasant surprise as you realize he anticipated your need for an officiant. This unexpected gesture of support and forethought from Yoongi fills you with gratitude and admiration for his thoughtfulness.

“You did?” Your eyes widen in surprise and your heart swells with love for your best friend. The unexpected gesture leaves you feeling incredibly grateful and touched by Yoongi’s support. You can’t help but feel an overwhelming urge to hug him and show your appreciation for his thoughtfulness.

“I had a feeling you might want to elope or have an intimate ceremony,” Yoongi says, his voice still heavy with sleep. “Let me guess—you want to get married today.” Despite his groggy state, he sits up, turning to face you. His bare chest is on display, but you focus your gaze on his slightly puffy face, your excitement building as his words confirm he understands your plans.

“Yeah, we do,” Jimin confirms, his hand reaching out to find yours, intertwining his fingers with yours. The touch is intimate, a silent affirmation of your shared desire to get married today.

“I’ll marry you to each other. That was the whole point anyway,” Yoongi says with a casual, dismissive tone, but his voice is thick with love. His intentions are clear, and the smile playing on his lips confirms his genuine happiness for you and Jimin. His commitment to officiating your wedding adds a special touch, turning the moment into one of deep affection and anticipation.

“Thank you so much, Yoon,” you say, your voice filled with gratitude as your eyes well up with tears. Letting go of Jimin’s hand, you wrap Yoongi in a heartfelt hug. The warmth of his body and the friendly pat on your back from his hands offer comfort and reinforce the depth of your friendship.

It’s a touching moment of friendship and appreciation for Yoongi’s willingness to play such an important role in your special day.

“No problem,” Yoongi replies, giving Jimin a playful thumbs up behind your back. “Now, off you go so I can properly wake up with my boyfriend.” His words are lighthearted and teasing, infusing a touch of humor to the moment and subtly hinting that he wants some privacy with Hoseok.

You chuckle and release Yoongi from the hug, offering him a grateful smile. “Yes, of course! Sorry for the intrusion, but thank you so much,” you say, your tone lighthearted and full of appreciation.

Your smile is radiant, a reflection of the overwhelming happiness and love you feel. You can’t possibly contain your joy as you grab Jimin’s hand and pull him outside, eager to share your excitement and anticipation for the day ahead. Your enthusiasm is contagious, and Jimin’s grip on your hand tightens, ready to embark on this special journey with you.

“I can’t wait!” you exclaim, your voice brimming with giddiness as you practically bounce around Jimin. Your excitement is palpable, and your energy is infectious. In response, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, giving you a deep, passionate kiss that conveys his own eagerness and love.

The embrace feels like a promise of the beautiful day ahead and the many more to come.

It feels as though your souls are intertwined in a beautiful dance, swirling together in perfect harmony. The overwhelming love you feel fills every corner of your heart, making you ache with anticipation to marry Jimin. The closeness between you, the way your hearts beat in sync, makes it clear that this is the love you’ve always dreamed of.

Jimin gently pulls away, locking his gaze with yours. “Now we just have to call everyone,” he says with a smile, his excitement evident. “But let’s have some breakfast first.”

You nod, your heart fluttering with love as you and Jimin walk back to the house hand in hand. Together, you grab something to eat while you look at your phone, deciding who to call and invite. You start with your sister, eager to share the good news. When you tell her, she yells in excitement before breaking down in happy sobs, promising that she, Jungkook, and the rest of your friends will come over right away.

After finishing your meal, you seek out Taehyung to share the exciting news about your wedding taking place later today. When you tell him, his face lights up with happiness and anticipation. He can’t wait to attend the ceremony and celebrate this special day with you and Jimin.

“Love, you don’t have a wedding dress,” Jimin says, his eyes filled with concern over the oversight. But you smile, brushing it off. The lack of a wedding dress doesn’t bother you in the slightest; your focus is on the joy of marrying Jimin and celebrating your love with those closest to you.

“I don’t need a traditional white wedding dress,” you reassure Jimin, your excitement evident. “I already have the perfect dress.” With that, you pull out the flowery dress Jimin bought for you two years ago, a dress that holds sentimental value. The sight of the dress brings back fond memories, and you know it will make your wedding day even more meaningful. Jimin’s gift now becomes a beautiful symbol of your love and the journey you’ve shared together.

You watch as Jimin’s eyes fill with tears, mirroring your own emotional response. “I don’t care about tradition,” you say, your voice tender and sincere. “I care about you, and I love this dress that you gave me.” Your words convey the depth of your affection for Jimin and the sentimental value of the dress.

Jimin sniffles as he walks over to you, wrapping you in a heartfelt embrace. “I fucking love you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

You chuckle softly, the intensity of emotion between you two almost tangible. “I love you too,” you respond, your voice full of warmth and sincerity.

Jimin pulls back slightly, a playful glint in his eyes as he asks, “Should I wear a suit?”

“You can if you want, but my only concern is that you’re comfortable,” you say with a mischievous smile, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. “I’m going to be ripping your clothes off at the end of the day anyway, so it’s up to you.” Your teasing words make Jimin burst out in a giggle.

You take your time getting dressed and applying makeup, stealing a glance at Jimin out of the corner of your eye. You watch as he slips on his suit and hat, the ensemble bringing a smile to your face. He looks undeniably dapper, though in your eyes, Jimin would look good in anything.

Hand in hand, you and Jimin walk out of your bedroom and descend the stairs, the anticipation building with each step. As you reach the living room, you’re greeted by the sight of your family and closest friends, all gathered and dressed up, their faces beaming with joy. Your eyes meet those of your sister, Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Soo-ah, Ara, and Ha-rin, all of them warmly smiling at you and Jimin. The warmth and love in the room envelop you both, creating a perfect setting for the special day ahead.

Your eyes begin to well up with tears as you take in the sight of your family and friends gathered to celebrate your special day. You start to understand why your sister was so emotional on her wedding day—the overwhelming sense of love, support, and unity is almost too much to contain. The realization of how significant this moment is fills you with a deep, heartfelt joy.

“Where do you want to get married?” Yoongi asks, his eyes reflecting genuine interest as he addresses both you and Jimin. The question holds a sense of anticipation, as though he’s ready to help make your dream ceremony a reality wherever you choose.

“Outside in nature. We have to ride there on horseback,” you announce with a pleased smile, grabbing Jimin’s hand as you envision your dream wedding. The thought of saying your vows surrounded by the beauty of the natural world, riding to the ceremony on horseback, fills you with excitement.

“You’re lucky we’re all on horseback,” your sister grunts, gently caressing her growing belly.

“And you had no issue letting her ride a horse?” You ask Jungkook with disbelief, clearly surprised by his decision. His choice seems at odds with the usual precautions he has taken during her pregnancy, and you can’t help but express your astonishment.

“She’s a grown woman and a skilled rider. I’m not about to argue with her on that,” Jungkook responds, his voice confident as he defends his decision. His mischievous smile reveals his trust in your sister's abilities and his decision to respect her autonomy.

“Damn right I am,” your sister retorts with a grin, grabbing Jungkook’s hand and leading him outside.

You hand the rings to Yoongi, your trust in him evident in your gesture. “I want you to present them to us when the moment comes,” you tell him, entrusting him with a crucial role in your wedding ceremony.

Yoongi takes the rings from you and carefully places them in the pocket of his black jeans. His deliberate action reassures you that the rings are safe with him.

“Let’s get you two married,” Yoongi announces with a grin, leading the way to the stables alongside you, Jimin, Taehyung, Namjoon, Seokjin and Hoseok. As you prepare to saddle up, you can feel the anticipation in the air, the group united in the shared excitement of the day ahead.

You gently pat Mikrokosmos on her head as you tack her up, leading her out of the stables. As you meet Jimin outside, your hand instinctively finds his, and together you guide your horses toward the house where the others are waiting.

You gallop out to the perfect spot, the wind rushing past you and your companions. There’s a serene, unspoken understanding between you all as you ride. The silence that envelops you adds to the magic of the moment, as you take in the breathtaking beauty of the open land and the anticipation of the ceremony to come.

The only sounds are the rhythmic hoofbeats and the gentle breeze.

As you finally approach the spot, your heart swells with recognition and joy. The intimate clearing, framed by trees and shrubs with the majestic mountains as a backdrop, feels like a scene from a dream. Fields of bluebonnets and wildflowers you’ve yet to identify create a vibrant, fragrant carpet. You guide Mikrokosmos to a gentle stop and gracefully dismount, allowing the breathtaking beauty to wash over you. For a moment, you stand in awe, absorbing the serene landscape, as Jimin and the rest of your loved ones arrive, matching your shared sense of wonder.

Taehyung takes in the surrounding nature, his expression curious. “What’s so special about this place?” He asks, his gaze sweeping over the vibrant wildflowers and picturesque backdrop.

“This is where we had sex for the first time,” Jimin reveals, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek, sending a thrill down your spine.

Taehyung grunts and rolls his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips. “You guys are so gross,” he teases, but there’s an undercurrent of fondness in his voice.

“I think it’s incredibly sweet and romantic,” Soo-ah chimes in, walking up to you with a warm smile on her face.

“After what I heard you and Ara do in the stables, I don’t think you’re one to talk,” you retort, a playful huff in your tone. Your teasing jab at Taehyung immediately silences him.

The group chuckles together, their laughter echoing through the serene surroundings. Yoongi steps forward, positioning you and Jimin face-to-face while your friends form a supportive circle around you. Meanwhile, your horses graze quietly in the background.

You can hardly contain your excitement, your body trembling with joy and love. The setting holds a special place in your heart, as it is deeply meaningful for both you and Jimin. The sheer perfection of the moment and the location fills you with gratitude and anticipation, knowing that there couldn’t be a more fitting or beautiful place for your wedding.

“Are you ready?” Yoongi asks, his voice soft and warm. His gentle smile is filled with genuine affection, and his eyes sparkle with love as he looks at you and Jimin.

You both nod, grinning like fools in love—because you are. The anticipation swells within you, knowing you’re about to marry your childhood friend, your longtime crush, your soulmate. This moment is the culmination of a beautiful journey, and your hearts are ready to take the next step together.

Jimin removes his hat and hands it to his brother, a casual yet deliberate gesture. As he runs his hand through his hair, you can’t help but be drawn to him, knowing how that move always gets your heart racing and turning you on.

Yoongi takes a deep breath, smiling warmly at the gathered guests. “Welcome, friends and family. We’re here to celebrate the union of these two wonderful souls. Today, we’re witnesses to their commitment to love and their choice to spend their lives together. Let’s share in their joy and support them on this beautiful journey.” His words set a heartfelt tone for the ceremony, inviting everyone to join in the celebration of your love and dedication to each other.

“Jimin, you’re up first. I hope you prepared some vows,” Yoongi says with a chuckle, eliciting laughter from the rest of the party. You don’t mind the light-hearted banter; in fact, it helps ease the slight nervousness coursing through your veins.

Jimin’s soft smile grows wider, showcasing his perfect crooked teeth and those endearing dimples. “My love,” he begins, his voice filled with affection. “I’ve loved you for so long, since we were kids, and my love for you has only grown stronger. Sometimes, the intensity of it scares me, but I know that with you by my side, there’s nothing to fear. Together, we can face anything, and my love for you feels transcendent, ever-growing and evolving. I know I’m flawed and have made mistakes, but your unwavering love has been my anchor. I’m so grateful for you and your love. I promise to cherish you forever, to fill our days with happiness, adventure, and boundless love. I’m excited to share my life with you, to build a family with you. All my love is yours, and it always will be.”

His heartfelt vows resonate deeply, conveying his profound commitment and adoration for you.

As you hold Jimin’s hand, a wave of emotion washes over you, making your hands suddenly feel sweaty. Gazing into his soft brown eyes, you see a world of love and devotion reflected back at you. His eyes speak volumes about his boundless affection for you, and you can’t help but feel a lump form in your throat. The depth of his emotions stirs something profound within you, filling you with an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude.

Jimin smiles at you, his eyes brimming with tears of emotion. You watch as a few slip down his cheeks, his vulnerability touching your heart. Your instinct is to reach out and gently wipe away his tears, but you resist, allowing him to fully experience this profound moment.

Yoongi turns to you with a gentle reminder, “It’s your turn,” his words prompting you to take the next step in your vows. His supportive gaze encourages you, and you take a moment to gather your thoughts and emotions.

You chuckle nervously, mustering all the love you have for this incredible man. “Jimin, my love,” you begin, “I’ve loved you since we were kids, but my love for you developed slowly over the years. It took me time to realize my feelings, but they’ve always been there, just waiting to be unlocked. I love you with all my heart; you are my soulmate, and I adore your heart, your soul, and your kindness. I love you so much that it should be illegal, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, building a family together.”

You pause as tears begin to flow, overwhelmed with emotion. You clench his hands in yours and continue, “With you, I’ve found my home. Home is where my heart is, and my heart is with you.” Your heartfelt vows touch everyone present, the intensity of your love clear in every word you say.

Jimin starts to lean in for a kiss, but Yoongi playfully interrupts, placing a hand between you. “Wait, the rings first,” he chuckles, and the rest of the party joins in the laughter.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself as Yoongi asks if you want to marry each other. The anticipation builds, but when you both say yes, your heart swells with happiness. Yoongi hands you your rings, and the exchange of this symbol of your love and commitment fills the moment with significance and emotion.

Jimin takes your left hand in his, carefully sliding off your engagement ring. He transfers it to your right hand, placing it gently on your ring finger. Then, with deliberate tenderness, he slides the wedding ring onto your left hand, his movements slow and precise. Once the ring is in place, a surge of happiness washes over you. You gaze at the beautiful ring on your finger, admiring the way the silver and gold intertwine perfectly. The design symbolizes your unity, reflecting your journey together and the depth of your love.

You examine the ring in your hand, its engraving catching the light—a delicate inscription of your name and the date you first met. The thought that you both carry each other’s name with you on your rings fills you with warmth and a sense of deep love.

You take Jimin’s left hand, your touch gentle but steady. As you find his ring finger, you slowly slide the ring onto it, your movements deliberate and heartfelt. The moment feels sacred, the symbolism of placing the ring on his finger marking the beginning of your new life together. You watch his face light up with joy, and you know that this exchange of rings signifies not just your love, but the promises you've made to walk hand in hand for the rest of your lives.

When the ring is securely on Jimin’s finger, you both lift your gazes to meet each other’s eyes. The moment feels charged with emotion, as if the world stands still for just the two of you. Then, you turn your head to Yoongi, seeking his next words to finalize the ceremony. Your anticipation grows as you await the moment that will officially seal your union.

“Yes, yes, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss,” Yoongi declares, his tone almost nonchalant, as if he can hardly be bothered. But you know the truth—his words carry warmth and a deep sense of joy for you both. His casual delivery brings a touch of humor and charm to the ceremony, and the affection in his eyes reveals just how much this moment means to him.

You grin widely as you lean in to kiss your husband. This kiss feels different, charged with a new sense of intimacy and commitment. Shivers run through your body as you feel giddy, overwhelmed with joy and happiness.

As your lips meet, you don’t pull apart. Instead, you stay locked in the kiss, savoring the love. Jimin holds you tight and pushes you back gently, making you hover in the air as he deepens the kiss. The embrace is both tender and passionate, sealing your vows with a kiss that signifies the start of your new journey together.

Your friends and family erupt in cheers, catcalls, and applause, filling the air with their excitement. They shout congratulations and well-wishes, creating an atmosphere of celebration and joy around you. Their enthusiastic response amplifies the happiness of the moment, making you feel truly surrounded by love and support as you and Jimin share your first moments as a married couple.

Jimin lifts you back up, and you both pull away, gasping for air before bursting into laughter. The moment feels lighthearted and full of joy. You lace your fingers with his, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and devotion. It’s as if you can’t get enough of him, your heart overflowing with affection for your husband.

“Congratulations!” Yoongi says with a beaming smile, and the rest of the party echoes his sentiment, surrounding you and Jimin with hugs and kisses. You’re showered with love and affection from all sides, your heart swelling with gratitude. As tears of joy stream down your face, you realize how truly blessed you are to have such supportive and loving people in your life. This outpouring of emotion makes the moment unforgettable, truly sealing the beauty of your special day.

“I’m crashing at Jessi and Kook’s tonight,” Taehyung declares with a playful grin, hugging you tightly. “Because I know you two are gonna do nasty things I’d rather not hear or see.” His teasing tone brings a lighthearted touch to the moment, and his affection for you is clear in the way he holds you close.

You can’t help but burst out laughing at Taehyung’s comment—it’s true, and everyone knows it. The anticipation of getting home and fuck the shit out of Jimin, your husband, fills you with too much excitement. You’re eager to rip his clothes off and lose yourself in the passion and intimacy of your new life together.

After spending a few moments catching up with your friends and family, you and Jimin say your farewells. You mount your horses, waving goodbye to everyone as they prepare to ride back to Bora Ranch. The journey home to Bell Ranch with Jimin feels serene and special, as you reflect on the incredible day you’ve had and the future that lies ahead. The ride back allows you to savor the peaceful moments together, anticipating the start of your new life as a married couple.

You and Jimin race across the open fields, urging your horses forward as excitement pulses through you both. The wind whips your dress around your thighs, but you pay no mind—you can’t wait to get back and have sex with your husband once you reach the sanctuary of your home.

When you arrive back at the ranch, you ride straight up to the stables, untack your horses, and settle them comfortably in their stalls. The moment you’re done, you and Jimin turn to each other, the anticipation palpable. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, unable to contain your desire any longer.

You push Jimin against a stall, your eyes locked on his as you let out a low, throaty growl. “I want you, Jimin,” you whisper, the words dripping with desire, as your breath mingles with his.

When you look into Jimin’s eyes, they are completely dark with desire. The intensity of his gaze sends a rush of arousal through you, and you can feel the heat between you two. There’s no doubt that your panties are already soaked, your anticipation for what’s to come pushing you closer to the edge.

“Shit, I want you too,” Jimin pants, his breath hot and heavy as you touch him through his pants.

You lean in close, whispering in his ear, “Let’s do it on the bed, like old married people.”

Jimin chuckles, allowing you to lead him out of the stables and back to your house. The playful anticipation between you two is palpable. Once inside, you pull him close and knock his hat off before kissing him hungrily.

Your lips move from his mouth to his neck, planting kisses and gentle bites as you moan against his skin.

Your hands glide eagerly over Jimin’s chest as you attempt to unbutton his shirt, but your impatience gets the best of you. Instead, you tear the shirt open, buttons flying to the ground as you reveal his toned chest. The sight of his exposed skin makes your breath catch and your lips part in anticipation, licking them as you prepare to feast your eyes and hands on him.

You swiftly pull the shirt off Jimin, leaving him shirtless in front of you. His bare chest and the desire in his eyes make your pulse race. In response, you reach behind to unzip your dress, letting it gracefully slip off your body and fall to the floor.

Jimin’s eyes widen in astonishment as he gazes at you standing before him in just a bra. “You weren’t wearing panties this whole time?” He asks, his voice filled with lust and a hint of surprise.

You chuckle softly, enjoying Jimin’s reaction to your revelation. Moving closer, you tease him by running your fingers playfully over his pants, feeling his dick pressing against the fabric.

With a sultry tone and a smoldering gaze, you draw out the words, “No panties today,” savoring the look of desire in Jimin’s eyes. You bat your eyelashes flirtatiously and bite your lip.

“My nasty girl,” Jimin murmurs, his voice thick with a blend of lust and love. His hands grip your hips firmly, drawing you closer to him. As he moves in to kiss your neck, he adds a playful bite, promising a purple necklace as a mark of your passion.

Jimin’s breath brushes against your ear as he pants, “I want to fuck my wife.”

The raw desire in his voice sends shivers down your spine, igniting an electric anticipation within you.

“Then take me to bed and fuck my brains out,” you moan, the intensity of your desire for Jimin nearly overwhelming. Your voice is laden with lust and love, and your chest feels like it's about to burst from the sheer force of your emotions.

Jimin’s strong hands grip your hips firmly, lifting you effortlessly. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist, holding on tight as he carries you through the house and up the stairs. nst yours fuels your desire, promising a night of unrestrained passion and closeness.

You feel Jimin’s heart pounding against your chest, the rhythm a sweet symphony to your ears. When he playfully tosses you onto the bed, you burst into laughter, feeling a rush of excitement. You spread your legs, allowing him to see just how wet you already are for him.

“Fucking hell. How long have you been like this?” Jimin exclaims, his voice filled with astonishment and desire as he takes in the sight of you.

His gaze shifts down to his pants, noticing the wet stains there. “You’re dripping,” he remarks, a mixture of surprise and eagerness in his tone.

“I just can’t wait for my husband to fuck me,” you say, your voice dripping with desire. As you teasingly touch your clit, Jimin lets out a groan, a blend of frustration and intense lust.

You move to the edge of the bed where Jimin stands, your eyes locked on his. With a deliberate, teasing smile, you unzip his pants and pull them down along with his boxers, revealing his neglected, hard cock. It springs free, standing tall and proud, a bead of precum glistening at the tip.

The sight of him makes you lick your lips in anticipation. Without hesitation, you grab his cock and wrap your lips around him, surprising him with your eagerness.

Jimin’s taste is intoxicating, and you can’t get enough of him. You eagerly take him into your mouth, sucking him with a fervor that makes him moan with pleasure. The sounds he makes—obscene and raw—intensify your desire, fueling your passion for him.

You moan around Jimin’s dick, the vibrations sending shivers through him. His hands find purchase in your hair, his fingers tenderly stroking your cheeks as you hold his gaze, the intimacy of the moment building between you. As you look into his eyes, you can feel him twitch in your mouth.

“Love, I’m seriously not going to last long, and I want to come inside you,” Jimin tells you, his voice filled with urgency and desire. He gently tries to pull you away, his hands on your shoulders, revealing just how close he is as he tries to pull you off his dick.

You release Jimin’s cock and look up into his lustful eyes, your own gaze filled with longing and confidence. “I want you to come more than once—we have all the time we need, love,” you say, a playful edge to your voice.

You wrap your warm mouth around him again, this time with more urgency and speed. Your cheeks hollow as you increase your pace, your tongue expertly teasing his frenulum. The sensation makes him gasp for breath, his hands finding your hair and pulling on it gently, a sign of his overwhelming pleasure. The combination of your soft tongue and the intensity of your actions sends waves of ecstasy through Jimin, his grip tightening in your hair.

Jimin grunts above you, the sounds of his pleasure intensifying. You look up at him, taking in the utterly overwhelmed expression on his face and knowing he’s close to his orgasm. Determined to push him over the edge, you stroke the part of him that doesn’t fit in your mouth as you try to take him deeper.

You feel his dick hit the back of your throat, but you relax your jaw, focusing on breathing through your nose.

As you continue to pleasure him with your mouth, you reach down with your other hand to play with his balls. The added sensation makes him throb instantly in your mouth, and you respond by moaning even more around him.

Jimin moans your name as he pulls his cock from your mouth. With a few strokes, he releases his warm, white seed onto your face, while you stick out your tongue, eager to catch some of it and swallow.

He grunts, panting for air, as he empties the last of his release. As he relaxes, you move in to tease the head of his dick with your tongue, playfully licking it like a lollipop.

Jimin whimpers softly from overstimulation, but his gaze is filled with love and adoration as he looks at you. “My nasty girl,” he murmurs, his voice laced with affection. “You look so beautiful with my cum on your face.”

He reaches behind you and deftly unclasps your bra, allowing it to fall to the floor. As the fabric slips away, a trail of his seed runs from your face down to your breasts, and he groans at the sight.

He gently pushes you back onto the bed and straddles you, his now softening cock brushing against your skin. You don’t mind; in fact, you savor the intimate moment, the closeness of your bodies, and the tender weight of him on top of you. His gaze locks with yours, filled with affection and desire.

Jimin shifts his position, moving off the bed and sitting down. He then pulls your body closer to him, positioning you so that your pussy is right in front of his face. His eyes light up with hunger and admiration as he takes in the sight of you.

“I’m gonna taste you now, wifey.”

His words send a wave of desire through you, causing your pussy to clench in response. A moan escapes your lips, and you find yourself yearning for the touch of his lips and tongue on your most sensitive spot.

He wastes no time, immediately diving in with his tongue. His skilled lips find your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you. You instinctively wrap your thighs around his head, resting them on his strong shoulders for support. Meanwhile, your hands grip the sheets tightly, holding on for dear life as he works his magic on you.

Slurping sounds echo through the bedroom, creating a symphony of intimacy and pleasure. Although he’s just begun, you already feel swept away by the sensations he is creating. The intensity of his touch leaves you feeling overwhelmed, as though you're already on the edge of an orgasm.

His tongue vigorously licks your clit, and you find yourself lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. Your wetness amplifies the sensations, making every touch feel intensely magnified. Each stroke of his tongue sends shivers through you.

Jimin’s hands gently part your folds, his touch both tender and purposeful. He lowers his head, his tongue making its way inside you, exploring with an intense, focused attention. The sensation of his tongue entering you sends waves of pleasure through your body, and his expert movements ignite a fire within you.

“Jimin!” As Jimin’s tongue enters you, you can’t help but scream his name, your voice echoing with a mix of pleasure and overwhelming lust.

The soft muscle of his tongue skillfully dives in and out of your entrance, exploring you deeply as far as his tongue can reach. His nose brushes against your clit with each motion, creating an intoxicating combination of sensations. The precise rhythm of his tongue, paired with the stimulating touch of his nose, drives you wild with pleasure, pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

The pleasure is overwhelming as you feel a knot tightening in your stomach. Your orgasm begins to build, slowly but powerfully, taking your breath away with each wave of sensation. The anticipation of release makes your body tremble, your senses on high alert as you inch closer to the peak of release.

Jimin pulls away from your pussy, taking a moment to gaze at you. You’re flushed, sweating, and panting heavily from the intense pleasure he’s been giving you. His lower face glistens with your juices, evidence of your intense arousal and his passionate exploration. The sight of him like this, lost in the moment, is slowly making you lose your mind.

“Come on my face, love,” Jimin commands as he moves back to your pussy. He licks and sucks your folds, his mouth working you over with intense precision. One of his hands finds your clit, his deft fingers expertly rubbing the sensitive bud.

The pleasure is overwhelming as you feel your toes curl and your breath grow short and erratic. Your climax hits you like a freight train, the intensity taking you by surprise. You moan his name loudly, surrendering to the ecstasy as you come on his tongue and face.

He licks you up with an eager intensity, savoring your essence as though he’s drinking you in.

“Fuck, Jimin,” you pant, your voice laden with satisfaction and awe. Jimin finally pulls away from your now sensitive pussy, his lips lingering for a moment before he moves up beside you on the bed. As he joins you, his presence offers comfort and a sense of closeness, allowing you to bask in the afterglow of the intense pleasure he just brought you.

Jimin hovers over you, his breath warm against your skin. As you notice his now fully erect cock, he leans down to whisper in your ear, “You made me hard again, wifey.”

His words send a thrill through you, the playful intimacy of his tone making your pulse quicken.

“Already?” you pant, a mix of surprise and lust in your voice.

“Yeah, my wifey just drives me wild,” he groans, his voice thick with lust.

Oh God, every time he calls you ‘wifey,’ your pussy clenches involuntarily. The sweet intimacy of the term sends a wave of desire through you, and you wonder if he’s aware of the effect it has on you.

Jimin lies down beside you, a playful glint in his eyes and a chuckle of lust escaping his lips. “Come and ride me,” he invites, his tone teasing yet filled with desire.

Your whole body tingles with anticipation, and even though you’re tired and overwhelmed with lust and love, you find the energy to rise and straddle Jimin. You take his dick in your hand, aligning it with your entrance before slowly lowering yourself onto him. The sensation of him stretching you is intense, the smooth glide enhancing the pleasure for both of you. You savor every inch of him, and the stretch is oh so exquisite and intense. He fills you up completely, an intoxicating pleasure that makes your breath catch and your pulse race.

You brace yourself with your hands on his chiseled chest and begin to ride him, bouncing with a rhythm that matches your pounding heartbeat. The sensation of his cock inside you intensifies with each movement, sending waves of ecstasy through your body. As you shift your weight and grind against him, the pleasure deepens, drawing out gasps and moans from both of you.

“Fuck, my wife is so fucking hot,” Jimin praises, his voice heavy with lust as you ride him. Your pussy tightens around him, and you feel a powerful wave of arousal knowing how much he enjoys watching you take control. The sensation of him inside you is overwhelming, both physically and emotionally, and you know it won’t take much to push you to the brink of another orgasm.

His words of admiration intensify your pleasure, the feeling of his thick cock filling you up adding to your imminent unraveling.

“Jimin, you’re gonna make me come again,” you pant, your voice laced with both pleasure and exhaustion. Though your body feels tired, you continue to ride him, driven by the intense desire to reach another orgasm.

“Are you close?” Jimin asks, his voice thick with lust and anticipation. His intense gaze meets yours, the desire in his eyes mirroring your own. His question fuels your urgency, and you can feel your body tightening with the approach of another climax.

You nod eagerly, biting your lip to hold back the pleasure, “Yes!”

Jimin’s fingers find your clit again, and even though you’re sensitive, the sensation is intensely pleasurable. He rubs the nub with expert precision, sending shockwaves of ecstasy through you. The combination of his touch and the fullness inside you brings you to the brink, your body about to erupt like a volcano.

The pleasure is overwhelming, teetering on the edge of being too intense to take. As you reach your peak, you scream Jimin’s name, your voice echoing through the room. Your climax ripples through you, every nerve ending on fire as your body tightens around his cock. The release is a burst of euphoria, leaving you breathless and utterly consumed by the ecstasy he brings you.

You catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you steady yourself on Jimin’s chest. The afterglow of your climax leaves you feeling both tired and utterly full of love. His warmth beneath your hands grounds you.

“So good, my love. Now relax while I take care of the rest, wifey,” Jimin murmurs with tenderness. He turns you around gently and guides you back onto the mattress, his dick still nestled inside you. As he adjusts his position, he sinks deeper, eliciting a moan from you at the intensity of the sensation.

Jimin pulls your legs to the side, opening you up to him, and then begins to thrust his cock into you with a steady, powerful rhythm. Each thrust fills you deeply, his pace unwavering as he seeks to deliver intense pleasure.

The hypnotic motion of Jimin’s hips captivates you, each precise movement drawing you deeper into the moment. His scars catch the light as they move with him, a testament to his strength and resilience. There's something truly magical about witnessing this intimate dance, the rhythm of his body resonating with yours. You can’t help but get lost in him, this man who is now your husband, the one who makes your heart race and your soul sing.

You feel as though you can barely withstand the intensity of the experience. It’s not painful—in fact, it’s the opposite. Waves of pleasure ripple through your entire body, creating a sensation that feels simultaneously like floating and drowning in ecstasy. The tingle is unusual, yet deeply satisfying, and you find yourself reveling in the overwhelming delight. The sensation is both exhilarating and surreal, leaving you craving more of this extraordinary feeling.

Jimin lowers his mouth to your neck, his teeth gently grazing your skin as he bites and kisses you. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, making you squirm beneath him with a mixture of pleasure and lust.

As he moves up to kiss you deeply on the mouth, the intensity of the moment heightens. The deep, passionate kiss perfectly synchronizes with his thrusts, amplifying the pleasure for both of you. His lips on yours, combined with the intimate rhythm of his body, create an electric connection that leaves you breathless and aching for more.

Your hands grip Jimin’s biceps firmly, drawing him closer to you. When he pulls away for a moment, you lock eyes with him, staring into his deep brown orbs. You see your whole universe reflected in them, and it fuels your desire for more—for everything he can give you.

You can’t take the distance for long, pulling him down to you again and kissing him with an intensity that feels like your life depends on it. The kiss is a passionate, all-consuming expression of your love and need for him, and it binds you even closer together in the moment.

“I’m gonna come soon,” Jimin pants as he pulls back from your kiss. His breathless voice conveys the intensity of his desire, the pleasure he feels evident in his expression, with the way that his nose is scrunching so cutely.

“Come inside and get me pregnant,” you pant, biting your lip and moaning his name.

Jimin’s eyes widen in surprise as he stares at you. “Pregnant? But you’re on the pill,” he blurts out, his expression a mix of shock and wonder.

You squeeze Jimin’s biceps tightly, your voice thick with both love and lust. “Not anymore,” you reveal, a hint of determination in your gaze. “I haven’t been taking them for a month.”

The weight of your confession hangs in the air, and you can see the surprise in his eyes.

For a moment, Jimin remains completely still inside you, his eyes locked with yours, reflecting disbelief and a touch of awe. The depth of your confession catches him off guard, and you can see the range of emotions playing across his face. The intimacy of the moment deepens as he processes the significance of your words, the silence charged with anticipation and the weight of what this decision could mean for your future.

“I said I wanted your kids. I wasn’t joking. Now fill me up with your seed, Jimin.”

He slowly starts to move again, his breath coming out in short, measured puffs. Running a hand through his hair, he bites his lip in a mix of concentration and desire, his expression shifting from disbelief to raw, intense passion.

You feel the coil within you tighten rapidly. The pleasure builds swiftly, spiraling out of your control, and you find yourself unable to hold back. Without warning, the coil snaps, sending you crashing into another climax. You clench tightly around his cock, a moan of his name escaping your lips as you surrender to the wave of ecstasy that consumes you.

“Shit,” Jimin groans as your walls tighten around him, hugging his cock close. He thrusts into you a few more times, each movement charged with intensity, before he releases inside you, filling you with his seed.

Jimin huffs above you, his breathing heavy as he pulls his sweaty bangs away from his face. A wide smile stretches across his lips as he gazes down at you, and you return the smile, your heart overflowing with love. He leans down to kiss you tenderly, his cock still nestled inside you, giving occasional twitches that make you chuckle.

His groan reverberates into your mouth as he whispers, “Wifey, I love you.”

His voice is husky with emotion, and you can feel the depth of his affection in those simple words. The tenderness of the moment, combined with the enduring intimacy of your bond, envelops you both in a wave of warmth and love.

You chuckle softly, your voice filled with warmth and affection. “Hubby, I love you,” you say, your words a playful echo of his.

Jimin gently pulls out of you, savoring the moment before he falls to your side, resting beside you.

You feel some of his seed trickle out of you, but the sensation is a natural part of the intimacy you share, and you embrace it without concern. Turning onto your side, you face Jimin, and he mirrors your movement, meeting your gaze with tenderness. The simple act of being close to him fills you with warmth and satisfaction, the afterglow of your love making soothing your body and soul.

He notices the lingering traces of his seed on your face and gently brushes it away with his fingers, chuckling softly. “You still have some semen on your face,” he remarks playfully, his touch light and tender. “But you still look incredibly hot.”

“And I’m sorry about your neck—it’s kinda purple now,” Jimin says with a chuckle, his fingers lightly tracing over the tender spot. You move closer to him, your hand finding his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch.

“I don’t mind,” you reassure him with a loving tone and a gentle smile. Your words are filled with warmth and acceptance, conveying that the marks are a sign of your closeness and shared passion.

“We should probably clean up,” Jimin suggests, beginning to rise, but you stop him with a firm squeeze of your hand on his bicep.

“No, please just stay here with me. We can take a bath together later,” you plead, your voice soft and filled with affection. Jimin sees the warmth in your eyes and smiles, giving in to your request. He settles back down beside you, wrapping an arm around you. The comfort of being close and the promise of a relaxing bath later creates a sense of serenity, allowing you both to enjoy the moment of rest and closeness.

“You know, your vows were really beautiful,” Jimin says, his voice gentle and filled with exhaustion, love, and happiness. His words carry the depth of his appreciation for the heartfelt promises you made to him, reflecting the strong emotional bond you share.

“Thank you. So were yours,” you murmur, leaning in to capture his plush lips in a tender, lingering kiss. The soft press of your lips expresses your appreciation and love, deepening the intimate bond between you and making the moment all the more special.

Jimin gently runs his hand through your hair, his touch soothing and affectionate. “What you said about home—I think you’re right,” he says, his voice soft and filled with contemplation.

You give Jimin a questioning look. “Which part?” you ask, curiosity evident in your tone. Your eyes search his face, eager to understand which aspect of your heartfelt vows resonated most with him.

Jimin takes a deep breath, filling his chest with the love that lingers in the air between you. “Home is where my heart is, and my heart is with you,” he says, his voice filled with emotion. His words echo your own from earlier, emphasizing the profound bond and shared understanding you have found in each other.

“Oh, that part,” you chuckle, seeing Jimin’s eyes well up with tears once more. Your heart swells with affection as you lean in to kiss him. The soft brush of your lips against his ignites a cascade of tender, heartfelt kisses—one after another, until you lose count of how many times your lips have met.

With your hands, you cup Jimin’s cheeks, feeling the warmth of his skin against your palms. His musky scent envelops you, filling you with a sense of deep contentment and love like you’ve never known before. Your heart seems to beat in perfect sync with his, an unspoken rhythm that binds you together.

His eyes shimmer with tears, but you find solace in the fact that you have each other. The unbreakable bond between you brings a profound sense of peace. You know with certainty that you will share your lives, facing whatever comes together. This bond is more than just love; it’s a soul-deep recognition that you have married your true soulmate.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (in a few days I’ll write the epilogue) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next (epilogue) →

#jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #my heart's home series #reader: female #au: cowboy #au: ranch #au: soulmates #au: childhood friends #au: friends to lovers #au: slice of life #theme: summer #vibe: smutty #vibe: romcom #vibe: angst #vibe: fluffy

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ghostkingart · 29 days

Text

WIP Whenever

In the spirit of this post that ended up inspiring people, I'll post my own little snippet that follows the prompt. Or two. I'll post two. Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: Astarion x male! demigod! OC (Valeriy) Words: 932 AU explanation: no tadpoles, mind flayers fucked off somewhere somehow and don't cause the whole thing AU (so Astarion is still bound to Cazador and, in this story, he is trying to seduce my OC for Cazador) OC explanation: Valeriy is a demigod, son of Morana (goddess of winter and death in Slavic folklore) and a mortal man, he was originally created for my original fantasy novel, but I saw the potential in pairing him up with Astarion so now he's in BG3 also (with few changes)

“I wish you would tell me something that was true,” Valeriy said wistfully.

“What do you mean?” Astarion asked.

“I can tell when people are lying to me. I’m afraid you’ve been lying ever since we met.”

Dread pooled in Astarion’s gut. Something was telling him that Valeriy wasn’t bluffing. He needed to find a way to get out of this predicament. “Has it ever occurred to you that you might be wrong?”

“It has. Unfortunately for you, I am rarely wrong about it.”

Astarion went quiet. He wasn’t sure where to go from here.

“It isn’t impossible, but it’s difficult to fake closeness. I imagine you know that and… you seem like someone who knows how to do so. But I’m sorry to disappoint. If you want something with me, it has to be real.”

Real, huh? Well, Astarion still couldn’t tell him the truth, but there was a part of it he could try to present, even if he’d have to twist it a bit. When he sighed, his chest hurt. “I am not… actually looking for love or connection. I don’t expect it. I stopped believing in it a long time ago.”

“Then what was all this for?” Valeriy asked softly.

Astarion expected that question. “Trying to fill the void, I suppose. One left behind by those who sought out to hurt me.

Valeriy was quiet for a while. Astarion didn’t dare look at him, even though he knew Valeriy wouldn’t be able to see him look.

“Aren’t we all?” He said at last.

“Who was it that hurt you?” Astarion asked.

Valeriy chuckled. “Astarion, please. You tell me one truth since we met and you expect me to cave in so easily?”

“I suppose you’re right.” Astarion stared ahead of himself. This was his last chance to seal the deal. He needed to try somehow. “One other thing is true.” He turned his head to look at Valeriy, who, of course, wasn’t looking back at him. “You’re beautiful.”

Valeriy smiled. “You think so?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve forgotten what I look like.”

Astarion thought he’d be sick. The two of them had more in common than he’d ever cared to find out. Of course, he couldn’t mention that he related without also mentioning that he was a vampire spawn, so he said nothing about it. “You weren’t born blind, then?”

“No,” was all Valeriy said.

Astarion tried again, “I see you aren’t in the mood for talking. But I can think of something we can do that doesn’t require any words…” Astarion leaned over and reached out.

Before he managed to make contact, however, Valeriy caught his wrist. “Is that what you really want?” He asked sternly.

To the Hells with it.

At that point Astarion simply closed the remaining gap between them and kissed him.

Valeriy was quick to respond. He let go of Astarion’s wrist in favor of wrapping his arms around Astarion’s waist. That was more like it.

This was something Astarion knew how to do. He could simply fake it all throughout and he’d have Valeriy in his clutches. It helped that Valeriy was genuinely beautiful, but Astarion doubted anything would be different just because it was Valeriy he was supposed to fuck.

Valeriy was gentle, while Astarion was trying to get things moving. Valeriy seemed to be really into simple slow kissing, with tender touches and slow movements.

He was taking the lead. Astarion didn’t like this. He needed to be in control. He pushed against Valeriy’s chest and his back hit the sand. Astarion straddled his hips. Better.

But when he went in for another kiss, Valeriy was the one with his hand on Astarion’s chest, pushing him back.

“You’re rushing it,” Valeriy said in a neutral tone that drove Astarion insane. No judgment, but no emotion either. “You don’t want this.”

“Of course I do,” Astarion said cheekily. “It was my idea, silly.”

Valeriy’s eyes landed on Astarion’s face and for a split second it appeared as though he could see, not just Astarion’s being, but all the way to his very soul.

But then that moment passed and Valeriy was once more looking through Astarion rather than at him. It was a relief.

“You wanted to know about me,” Valeriy said.

Nine Hells, what a talker.

“I used to fuck people for money,” Valeriy said bluntly. “So I can tell when someone isn’t enjoying it.”

Well, shit. That certainly complicated things.

“I’m sorry. If you’re looking for a cheap thrill or to hurt yourself, you’ve got the wrong guy,” Valeriy said gently.

Astarion sighed and got off of him, sitting on the sand beside him instead. “You are infuriatingly kind.”

“That’s one I haven’t been called before.”

Astarion stared ahead.

“Why do you—”

Astarion promptly cut off Valeriy’s attempt at even more talking, “Can you, for once, just be quiet?”

“Alright,” Valeriy said. “I know something else we can do that doesn’t require any talking.”

Astarion frowned. “Like what?”

Valeriy’s hand closed around Astarion’s wrist and he pulled him in. Then he… simply held him. Astarion’s head rested on Valeriy’s chest, listening to the beating of his heart.

Astarion wanted to scream. He wanted to cry and hit the man, but any of that was hardly on the table.

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring Valeriy to Cazador. He truly was out of his depth.

He didn’t want to move. He knew he should have, he should have told Valeriy to piss off and stop wasting his time. But, for the time being at least, he allowed himself to be held.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate oc #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate astarion #astarion x oc #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #jax writes #wip #wip whenever

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onlymingyus · 2 years

Text

A Surprise

pairing; jeon wonwoo x afab reader

genre; smut (minors dni)

warnings; unprotected sex, marking, cream pie, lots of cum, fingering, cum eating

request; no

w/c; 530 and some change

a/n; this is written for my beautiful wifey @multi-kpop-fanfics and based on the video linked in her ask here

The moment Wonwoo walked into the room his lips had been on yours. Talking on the phone, seeing him on FaceTime was never enough, it wasn’t this. As much as you had missed him, he had clearly missed you just as much. Even phone calls and texts had been few and far between the past week and he had a lot to make up for in his mind.

Now his cock was buried so far in you as he pushed you towards the headboard, his mouth only leaving yours to find other parts of your skin leaving light red marks that would bloom later. He was going to make this night memorable and fuck you felt so good. Your body reacting to him, your soft skin covered in chill bumps at his every touch. Your perfect little pussy clenching around his needy cock. Wonwoo was going to fucking lose it.

“God, baby…baby I missed you.” You smile into a moan at his words as Wonwoo’s mouth moves across your jaw speaking between kisses before he kisses into a louder groan feeling himself coming undone. He had already made you cum and he wanted to again but the way your velvet walls were pulling him in…and with how long it had been since he had any release it wouldn’t last.

You could tell he was close and you wanted him to let go. You wanted every last drop, you had missed his touch, his kiss, his intensity, and his love. “Wonwoo…” You whine his name and he is done, his eyes close tighter as his stomach tightens and he loses his breath when he starts to cum. “Oh fuck…fuck.” The last of his words are drawn out as you feel how full you become causing you to gasp at the overwhelming feeling.

Wonwoo tries to catch his breath as his body jerks spilling the last of his cum as he slowly fucks into you before he leans back on his knees but stays close so he can slowly pull out of you. His hand running over his mouth as he looks between your legs before sliding his cock from you completely with a low groan as you moan feeling even more cum spill from you. “Wonwoo…”

You whine his name again and lean up on your elbows looking between your legs and back up to him with a surprised look. “Baby…fuck.” He nods at how much cum was covering your legs, the bed, and still dripping from your pussy. “I told you I missed you.” You laugh softly before moaning, your legs trembling as Wonwoo can’t help himself when he slides his fingers through his cum fingering some of it back into you.

“God, this is the sexiest thing you’ve ever worn babe.” You arch your back and roll your hips towards his fingers before reaching down to slide your hand over his forearm to his wrist smirking up at him. “Maybe I should make you wait longer every time.” Wonwoo scowls playfully at you before sliding his fingers from your folds leaning over you offering them to you watching as you lick them clean. “I’m never leaving you for that long again.”

——————————————————

tag list; @bangchanbabygirlx @just-here-to-read-01 @niktwazny303 @strawberri-uyu @yeritheloml @tis-niki @noraehey @hoohoohope @otterpopchan @xuxibelle @foxdaisy @smileysuh @vern0nsworld @synthetickitsune @enhacolor @pandorashbox @yeosayang @gyuhanniescarat @yoonguurt @jwnghyuns @xoxodino @sakurasangcl @woniewhite @fantasy2wonderland @httpswonwoosglasses @rubyscoups @onlywonus @midnightvalentines @junhui-recs @woozis-wife @cheolsbestie @sunnyteume

please note that I am doing my best to tag all of you who have filled out the tag list form but tumblr won’t let me tag some of you. I think that is because either you have tags turned off or possibly a blank tumblr page. consider reblogging some of the fics you like from me or other writers. ♥

#wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svthub #svt smut #wonwoo x readerr #wonwoo imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #svt x reader

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zethwritesss · 1 year

Text

Heartthrob

modern au: actress!ellie x actor!reader, afab!r, reader plays a female character, but they/them pronouns are used for reader.

Warnings: cursing, no use of y/n, reader is not fem, angst, fluff, eventual; kissing, substance use and smut. ALSO SPOILERS FOR 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU!!

Synopsis: Following a recent heartbreak you promise to never fall for another person again. Ironically you’ve been chosen to play a lead role alongside oscar-winning, Ellie Williams. Ellie is an actress you’ve looked up to since you started your acting journey. “10 things i hate about you” is a lesbian rom-com parody of the 1999 film of the same name. Despite the acting being a breeze you’ve encountered a major problem; can you and Ellie keep the romance on the set only?

word count: over 1k

Authors note: i don’t know how long this fic will end up being but your support and reblogs are very appreciated! also enjoy the little phone call audio!! i watched the movie last night and rip heath:((( GO WATCH THE GODDAMN MOVIE IF YOU HAVENT ALTHOUGH THIS IS A SFW POST MINORS AND MEN DONT INTERACT

soooo… with out further adieu:

Heartthrob: The Prologue

The clock read 7:04pm, you were situated in your tiny apartment located in L.A. Your phone buzzed, you picked it up quickly, excited that your crush, Freya had texted you. You and Freya had matched on a dating app over a month ago and things were going good so far.

Your heart sunk to your chest, your hands began to shake as you felt that familiar pain of heartbreak seep back into you. It's a feeling that you hate with every fiber of your being. It is one that leaves you unable to function for days on end. The girl who you had stupidly fallen for unfortunately had commitment issues, you mourned what you two could’ve had, the dates you could’ve gone on and you couldvt watched the cheesiest of rom coms together. “I will never fall for another girl again” you promised yourself, now ever so aware of the pain that loving someone can cause you to experience. You decided to send your friend Dina a message.

Speaking of rom coms you’re supposed to hear if you got the lead role for “10 things i hate about you'' the highly-anticipated, sapphic parody of the 1999 movie of the same name, starring Juilia Stiles and Heath Ledger. The role you auditioned for was for Kat Stratford, an abrasive but beautiful girl, who’s temperament leads her to not attract many women- and the rule her father has placed, which is that Kat’s younger sister can’t date unless Kat herself has a date. Over the course of the film Kat falls for a girl named Sarah.

Sarah is portrayed by Oscar-award winning actress Ellie Williams, Ellie has made herself well known as the lesbian heartthrob of the 2020s. Her presence sends any lesbian onto their knees, turning them into nothing but a muttering-stuttering gay-panic.

Thinking about working alongside her gave you chills and made your stomach do flips. You and Ellie were roughly around the same age, but she felt way out of your league. You’ve always looked up to Ellie since you saw her in her breakout film. She was an extremely talented actress, and has definitely made a name for herself.

You hear your door unlock. “Hey, I'm here! Where are you?” Dina says with a worried tone in her voice, she knows when you don’t give her much context to the situation that something has definitely happened.

“'m over here” you reply quietly.

Dina walks into your living room. You’re curled up in a ball on the couch, eyes red and puffy from crying. “Aww noo- what happened?”

“Freya and i- fuck… w- we didn’t work out.” You said, in between sobs, Dina hugged you, her hand rubbing your back as she held you. “I am so sorry to hear that- what can I do to help you out here hun? You’re pretty distraught”

“I- i don’t know Dina.” you said, quietly. “Maybe a distraction could help?”

“Ooh! Why dont you tell me about that role you auditioned for!?”

“oh yeah! You’ve seen the original movie right?”

“Yep I have! I’m really excited to see how this movie turns out!” Dina said, smiling, you could tell she was really excited.

“i auditioned for Kat Stratford- i don’t think i’ll get it though- OH FUCK- they haven’t even called me back yet!” You said to Dina, starting to get worried that they wouldn’t call you back.

You were an anxious, emotional heart-broken mess and desperately needed that lead role. Having that lead role would give you something to look forward to. Your phone rang, you quickly picked it up, hands shaking as you anxiously awaited your results. You set your phone down on the coffee table and set it to speaker.

“Hey, this is Jessica! You auditioned for the role of ´Kat Stratford’ in ‘10 things i hate about you’ right?”

“mhm- yep that’s me!”

You twiddle your thumbs together. “deep breaths” you tell yourself. You and Dina looked at eachother.

“Well congratulations! you got it!”

“Oh my god!! Thank you so much! I really needed to hear this.” you said, as a sigh of relief went through your entire body.

“Wait before you hang up, I've got someone else who wants to talk to you! Give me a minute as I transfer you over to her”

You and Dina were freaking out, excited butterflies erupting in your stomach. Dina had brought you into a very tight hug.

The phone switched over to the other person on the other end.

“Hey! It’s Ellie here! I wanted to congratulate you personally on the role, it’s well deserved! I'm really excited to meet you and work alongside you! I'll see you at the script reading on Monday!” Dina gasped and you put your hand over your mouth in shock.

“Oh my gosh it's such an honour to meet you Ellie!”

“And the same to you, you’ve got quite the talent for acting! Also feel free to write down my number, It’d be good for us to get to know each other before we start!”

“Yeah! Sounds good!” Out of the corner of your eye you saw Dina writing down Ellie's number on her notes app! “Thank god for Dina she’s a lifesaver for real” you thought to yourself.

“Don’t be shy and shoot me a message!! Really looking forward to connecting with you! Take care and see you soon.”

“Bye Ellie!”

“see ya later!”

Ellie hung up the phone and you looked at Dina, no words could come out of your mouth at the moment- your mouth hanged open in shock. You and Dina squealed and you two started jumping up and down out of the euphoria you were feeling.

“DINA- WHAT. THE. FUCK. WAS THAAATTTT…”

“I DONT KNOW but i'm so happy for you! you’ve worked your ass off man!! This is well deserved!” Dina exclaimed.

“Dina give me her number- WOAH that sounds unreal. Ellie Williams herself gave me HER NUMBER LIKE WHAT THE FUCKKKKK!!! All of the stans would kill to have those 9 digits! Is this a dream? Dina, slap me please!”

You said, your brain trying to process what happened.

Dina slapped you hard on the arm. “OW- Yep i’m definitely not dreaming”

“NO you are not-”

Your heart was still broken but you had something to hope for and something to look forward to, which really helps you move on. And Dina helps you too, Dina gives you that shoulder to lean on, she’s always got your back and you’ve always got hers!

TAGLIST: @m-3-ijiworld @anchoeritic @no-nameno-face @dropsofs4turn @little-star-bun @girlescapes @elliespookie

#ellie williams x reader #tlou fanfiction #modern!ellie williams #zethwritesssfanfic #actress!ellie williams #ellie x afab!reader #zee zee's heartthrob

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psalacanthea · 2 months

Text

Fanfic Friday- 7/12

A continuation of this bit of fic! More of Astarion and Zyn post-canon in the Underdark, if they'd met when he was alive.

Herein lies a bit of dealing with the complications of running a city of vampires, and the story of their original meeting, something Astarion has long since forgotten.

here's the first part!

...

Everything was easier with her blood running through his veins.

He could think more clearly, plan more thoroughly, avoid the endless, counterproductive fighting and bickering. Astarion understood now why Cazador had kept them down for so long eating nothing but rats. It was just another method of control. With Zynatheri’s blood flowing through him, he felt above the bickering, able to see past it, to anticipate and subvert it. He felt…cleverer than his siblings.

And that was dangerous.

The desire to be above, to stay in control– it was cruelly strong.

But, for now, it simply made it easier for him to do what needed doing. Insufferable moral problems could be shelved until later, when the sole available willing source of blood wasn’t Zynatheri. He certainly wasn’t going to let anyone else bite her, or even consider asking her to. Especially not remembering the sweet intimacy of it, the soft sound she’d made in her throat when he’d kissed her afterward…

The voice coming from the scrying orb was heavy with wry amusement. “Daydreaming, father?”

“Only a little,” he said, snapping back to the moment. Astarion glanced at the orb in the middle of the table, and then down at the hastily-scribbled sheaves of notes. Gods, so many notes. Pages upon pages of urgent needs. One would think keeping people nominally fed would be appreciated, especially with how long they had suffered, starving, but no~o.

Barely a pat on the back and then the next problem on the ever-growing list.

He might not have taken this responsibility if he’d known it came with so much sheer ingratitude!

“I realize that extending my personal protection doesn’t…sweeten the pot enough to convince people to work in a ruined Underdark city full of vampires. But on the other hand, there’s perfectly good money in it. Even just a few skilled masons would…” He sighed, spinning a hand in the air as he thought. Why was this so difficult? Ugh, why was he doing this the difficult way when they could just kidnap people? “We just had a refugee crisis, surely there’s people desperate for work. We’ll just start scooping up the poorest of the poor. They’ll be grateful! And, having been starving, they won’t ask for as much food, hopefully.”

“You could make it sound a little less predatory.”

“Darling, my dearest reflection,” Astarion sighed, trying not to snap at her for her obsession with wording, of all things. Shouldn’t she be grateful he was being honest? He could certainly offer all sorts of pretty lies if that’s what she preferred. “I am offering refuge to people in need! Not out of predatory charity, but in exchange for work. I’m not even asking them for blood– incidentally, I was talking to your mother about what future commodification of blood might look like.”

“I suppose with your condition it’s inevitable,” she agreed, but he could hear the note of vague unease. “And I’m not judging you for that. As long as you’re being fair and reasonable.”

“I’m not saying that selling your blood is preferable to selling your body, I’m simply saying that there may be those who find it a…welcome change in career.”

Lilithera gave a faint, dubious ‘mmh’, but her voice was only musing. “I’ll talk to my assistant Fredrika. But daily your recruitment list gets longer, father, and eventually money and privacy are going to start being a problem. Now that you’ve…somewhat solved the starvation issue, the next step has to be working on how to feed and protect mortals while you’re looking for immigrants. You don’t have any skilled laborers. You can’t have them starving or being eaten!”

“We can import,” he reminded her, smiling at her ‘hmm’ of agreement. “My people have already excavated half of my claimed district, and we’re turning up more and more tradable goods as we clear out the previous tenants. Precious metals, gems, magical items, cultural artifacts…”

“Don’t you dare sell Drow artifacts to the surface! You need contact with the local Drow. They know how to sustain a population down there, father! Learning to run a farm in the Underdark will do you so much more good than importing food. Convince mother to contact her family– bring whatever important pieces you can find to pave the way.”

“I– what?” he asked, pushing off the desk and turning back towards the scrying orb. Not that her idea wasn’t helpful, but…Zynatheri’s family? “I was under the impression they were all dead.”

“Is that what she told you?”

“Well, she told–” No, she hadn’t. But she’d implied as much. “Wonderful. Slippery little pest.”

“I love mum, I do. But you have to understand trying to get her to do anything difficult is like trying to give a cat a bath. She’ll twist herself in any direction she can to avoid it. And unfortunately she’s spent three hundred years manipulating people. She’s breathtakingly talented at it.”

“You could sound less admiring, dearest.”

“I wish I’d inherited that talent, I’d get so much more done around here. But she did only learn it to avoid responsibility, I suppose…it wouldn’t work for me. Convince mother to parlay with House Tzahane. If for no other reason than you need someone to educate you on how to set up farms in the Underdark. Then you can move past starvation, and start hiring skilled workers to help you rebuild. You can’t afford to import food in the long run. You need to be self-sufficient.”

“She ah–” He might as well ask for help. “She told me to speak to you. Your mother has asked me to-" Gods, it sounded embarrassing, but he might as well just come out with it. "She wants me to court her.”

“No,” Lilithera laughed, voice bright and delighted. “What, actually court her? That’s so out of character. Not saying I know much about mother’s love life, but I’m fairly certain most times it starts in bed and ends the next morning. Every single time. ‘Romance is like fish, little Lily. It goes bad quickly, better to get rid of it before it turns’.”

While he was grateful that Zynatheri hadn’t said anything about his past in that respect, it did make this seem a bit more…well, serious. Which it wasn’t. Was it?

“Both of us are being cautious. Our lives are rather twisted together. All your fault, I think you’ll find.”

“I won’t apologize for being born. At the risk of sounding like mum, you’re the one who didn’t take your cassil.”

“Well, what does she like in these circumstances?” Ugh. “Flowers? Poetry? She wouldn’t say a damned thing, she just told me to ask you.”

“So you’re interested in courting?”

Why did she have to ask? He didn’t want to think about it. “I– I don’t know! I just prefer having her here, and she said that if I wanted her to stay, I had to make it worth her while. She was the one that called it courtship. I just would like her to stop flitting around like a pixie in a panic and keep my hair fixed for me, is that really too much to ask?”

Lily’s voice was uncharitably amused. “Hmmh. Well, I’ll tell you, she likes things she can look at.”

“What does that mean?”

“Flowers, jewelry, paintings, stained glass, curiosities– she has a fondness for pretty things she can just gaze at. And she’s a bit of a magpie, but she’s not picky about how expensive something is. For years her favorite piece of jewelry was a gilt and glass gem bracelet I found in a gutter and gave her to go with her performance costume. When the cheap clasp broke and she lost it, she was devastated.”

“You know, I have yet to get a present from you.”

“Oh hush, yes you have. Oh! She hates diamonds.”

“Hates diamonds? Really?”

“She says they’re gems without any of the joy. She prefers prettily colored things. Especially opals. Quite honestly, for mother I would look at what she buys for you. She’s showing you what she values and likes by bringing them to you in the hopes of making your life a little easier and happier.”

Hmh. That did make sense. “I suppose we’re both fond of the little luxuries.”

“Yes. Oh! She loves animals of any sort, even the creepy-crawly things. When we were in Neverwinter, there was a Lord who was desperate to be her patron. She had no interest, but he had the most beautiful aviary. For a while she strung him along just so she could bring me to the aviary and sit among all the brightly-colored birds. I have some fond memories of that.”

“She is such a little charlatan,” Astarion chuckled, feeling a surge of fondness.

“Honestly, mum is just a free spirit at heart, father. Give her a place to rest and things she loves and she’ll always come back to you, just like she always comes back to me.”

Ugh.

Come back.

That was the problem, wasn’t it? She was always on the verge of leaving, and it felt like there was nothing he could do about it. “It…that sort of trust goes against my nature, darling. I hate the way she always disappears.”

“She’s very fond of you.”

“Fonder than she has been of…other people in her life?”

“Papa,” Lilithera chuckled.

“She told me to ask you! The brat refuses to talk about herself– her favorite tactic is to blurt ‘ask your daughter’ and then flee the room as if her tail is on fire.”

“Mother’s never been in a relationship that I know of. When I was a child she poured everything into taking care of me. Eventually as I grew up I realized she did have lovers, but never for long. She’s always avoided attachment. Honestly, not to be rude, but if it weren’t for me you’d just be another forgotten bedmate, too.”

“No, I’ve gotten that impression myself. She hasn’t had anything nice to say about our love affair so long ago. But…she said I was special to her. I suppose that’s your doing.”

“Just believe her, father. It’s a risk, but what isn’t?”

Hmh. He hated that she might be right. That he might simply have to step forward on faith, without knowing if there was something ahead waiting to catch him. “That bracelet you gave her…what did it look like?”

“Oh, gods, it was so long ago…it was gold, because the gilding flaked. Blue gems? I can’t remember what cut, I’m sorry. But it was pieces of chain between the gems.”

“From a gutter? And she really treasured it so much?”

“Mhmm! I told her it was pretty and blue, like her, and she nearly cried. It was rather cute, thinking back on it. We were so close when I was small…”

It wasn’t regret, precisely, that he felt. Jealousy, maybe, but it was a jealousy that was thick with the rueful acknowledgement that– “I would have been an absolutely awful father. You would have despised me.”

“Perhaps. Not everyone’s meant to be, like grandmother. Horrible woman. Don’t ever ask mother about her unless you’re prepared to hear some very unpleasant things. But we get along now, you and I.”

“Well, yes, after she did all the work!”

Lilithera laughed, bright and delighted. “All the more reason to spoil her, father. You owe her.”

Gods.

"Don't you dare breathe a word of this to anyone. Before you go, darling, about Gale..."

"Oh dear, is it already so late? I'm sorry, Father! I have a meeting with the head archivist! I love you!"

"Don't you d-"

The orb went dull and silent.

Offended, Astarion stared at it, forehead furrowing. Why, the absolute wretch! How dare she flee from the conversation? Well, now he was going to have to tattle on her to her mother.

Zynatheri wouldn't stand for this, and neither would he.

Well, having been bitten wasn’t the worst experience in the world.

Yes, Zyn’s neck hurt, and yes she felt a bit worn and hazy, but other than that she didn’t feel too exhausted. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t lost blood before. Besides, Astarion hadn’t even complained about her stealing his bed for the night and she had books to read, so all in all she was quite fine. He’d make sure the twins were safe.

Even so, she’d Sent to them a couple times, just to check in. Apparently they were having the time of their lives down in the depths of the House, mapping things out for Astarion, hunting for treasure. She would rather not go herself, but she was happy for them that they had. Astarion said he was off inventorying things to be sold off surface-side, which sounded very dull to her. All in all, Zyn had the best lot out of anyone today.

And all for the low, low price of a little blood.

She’d had a bath and refilled the tub for when Astarion returned later, which was enough effort.

Zynatheri was deep into a book of famous Waterdhavian urban myths and murderers when Astarion returned, his footsteps echoing up the barren hall before the door creaked open. She didn’t mind his faintly condescending chuckle as he caught sight of her, lips twitching into a faint smile behind her book. Rugs softened his footsteps as he approached. She ignored him impishly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of burgundy as he threw his coat over the back of the daybed.

“Have you even moved today? Please tell me you ate, at least, you have to get your strength back.”

“I ate,” she replied, eyes reflexively slitting as one of his cool hands rested on her head. Finally she peeked up over the top of her book. He looked…so much better than he had the night before. In fine spirits. “Shall I heat up your bath?”

His eyes were soft, but amused as he gazed down at her. “Soon. Thank you.”

Astarion sat down on the edge of the bed, and she watched as he kicked off his boots, letting out a long, slow sigh. They were a bit dusty and stained. It looked as if he’d had a hard day today. Not that she felt bad for being lazy or anything, of course.

“You must have been running all over the city.”

“I wanted to deal with some issues that have been plaguing me while I had…the energy,” he replied, leaning back on a hand to try and peek at her book. She turned it towards him, and he gave a faint ‘hmm’.

“You mean the blood,” she teased.

His lips twitched up into an amused smile at her words. “Well, there’s no need to be gauche. May I? What are we reading about?”

Pleased he was still willing to let her enjoy some cuddling despite him being annoyed with their discussion last night, she scooted closer to the edge of the bed. As he shifted behind her, laying on top of the blanket instead of under it with her, she leafed back to the beginning of the story. A hand hesitantly touched her hip as he settled, and then wrapped around her stomach at her faint ‘mhm’ of approval.

They adjusted a bit until they got settled, with her tucked up against him, blanket between them, his chin resting on her shoulder. Comfortable, simple. They read together, with him occasionally getting impatient when she took a little too long. Eventually those little annoyances added up, and he tried to forcibly turn the page, which got his hand smacked with the book. Grumbling, he pulled back and buried his face against the back of her neck.

“Read to me,” he demanded, muffled.

Zyn rolled her eyes.

But, well, they were only a few pages from the end and he’d likely had a long day…and she did like the sound of her own voice. Succumbing to the inevitable, she began reading to him in a slow, even voice, picking up from the top of the second page. Languid as a sleeping cat, he relaxed against her neck, letting out a heavy, cool breath.

His hand remained where it was, neither moving nor retreating, lightly cradling her stomach. Tucked comfortably against him, she finished the little tale of dismemberment and horror– terribly sensationalized, of course. Which was utterly unnecessary. Reality was strange enough without excessive embellishment.

At the end of the tale, it turned out to have been a servant of Bhaal after all.

What a predictable outcome.

“I would move on to the next one, but you’ll feel better for a bath,” she said, not just because he smelled a bit musty.

There was a wordless complaint, somewhere between a groan and a whine, his arm tightening around her, hand clutching more possessively. Amused, she let herself be dragged into the cradle of his body, his legs tucking up underneath hers, his other arm sliding under her head to grab her far shoulder. Pinning her in place. The blanket was still between them, though, a thin barrier.

“Or we could lay a bit longer,” she said, not bothering to hide her exasperated amusement.

Much to her surprise, she didn’t get something spiteful in response. Instead, he asked in a quiet, almost embarrassed voice, lips pressed to the back of her neck, “will you be here tomorrow night?”

“Yes,” she said instantly, not needing to think of it. They’d only been here four days, after all. The twins would never forgive her if they left so quickly. “I will be here tomorrow night.”

Only then did he release her, leaving the bed without another word to disappear behind the screen. She forgot her role until he reminded her, poking his head out. Leaning over the side of the bed, she sang her lazy little song to warm his bathwater, tucking herself back into the blankets afterwards.

Only for a few minutes, though.

Once he was relaxed in the water, she left the bed to keep herself from reading ahead without him. Wandering to the fireplace, she poked more cavewood into it– they seemed to have a lot of the stuff right now, cut down from the overgrown city. It wasn’t as if they generally needed it to cook. Or even, technically, to warm up a home.

“Have you thought about exporting cavewood?”

“I don’t know the first thing about how to set up forests,” Astarion replied, in that hazy, languid voice he always seemed to use in the bath.

She finished prodding the fire and stood up, gaze met by the pictures of the children on the mantle that she’d brought. No pictures of him. Zynatheri frowned. She needed Astarion to sit for some portraits. Hmm.

“Lack of knowledge seems to be our biggest hurdle here,” she agreed, adjusting the oval-framed painting of Lilithera’s second daughter. Of the youngest, she was the one who most looked like Zyn– and the one who was least like her. “How did our family make such a contrary child as Portia?”

“It’s unfathomable. I’ve never been contrary in my life,” Astarion lied.

“What color do you want to wear if I commission you a portrait? Violet, perhaps? A rich navy? That would make your eyes look brilliant. But no. We should place you against a dark wall– pale gold and blush with touches of sapphire? Oh.” She clasped her cheeks, imagining it in her mind. Yes. “Magnificent.”

“You know, when you constantly change the subject without warning, people can have difficulty keeping up.”

“Just looking at the portraits. There isn’t one of you, and you need at least a couple,” she mused, head tilting to the side.

“Why, exactly?”

“Well, they’re not family portraits unless you’re there,” she reasoned. “You can just get one done and make copies for the children.”

“There are no pictures of you.”

Well, yes, but… “It seemed a little presumptuous to put a portrait of myself up on your mantle.”

“You spent all day lounging in my bed,” he reminded her lazily. “Could you be a darling and pour me a drink?”

“You have the only proper bed in the city, of course I’m lounging in it,” she said testily, adjusting the portrait one last time before wandering over to his desk. Rothe blood wasn’t much, but it was something. At least he had the luxury of enjoying it in a civilized manner.

Picking up the bottle, she was about to pour into a goblet when she realized it was stained with dried blood. Annoyed, she shifted a glance to the bathing screen. A withering one. Hopefully the bastard felt it.

“Your cup is dirty.”

“And it would take you five seconds to fix that, but you’re using that time instead to complain to me.”

“Or I could pour the blood into the dirty cup.”

“Please don’t,” he said, pained.

“Are you going to clean it yourself after you’re done?”

“Don’t talk to me like one of the children,” he grumbled.

“Don’t act like one of them,” she replied with a laugh, and sang her small cleaning cantrip. With the cup pristine, she poured a healthy measure of blood from the enchanted ewer, not minding the way it steamed. So did mulled wine. Ooh. That sounded nice. “Do you have any wine? Spices?”

“What? Why– yes to the former, I think? Why would I have spices?”

“Mulled wine sounds nice, that’s all. Well, I can at least warm it up and add honey, I never leave home without honey for my wine. Shall I just reach blindly around the screen there, or…”

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen. Don’t–” There was a touch of frustration in his voice. “Don’t treat me as if I’m fragile. Please?”

“Silly viper, I’m trying to let you show me what you’re comfortable with,” she teased him, not minding a bit being invited to infringe on his space. “I know what it feels like to not be allowed to speak up for yourself. When I first started…regaining control of my life, my comfort would change by the hour. We’re complicated things, thinking creatures. You tell me what you’re comfortable with, and I’ll oblige.”

“Sometimes I’m profoundly grateful how careful you are, and sometimes it infuriates me.”

“Yes, I can be irritating.” She broached his space, knowing if she didn’t he might get more upset. “That was nice, having a cuddle together. Could we do it more often?”

All that was visible was his pale, sculpted upper chest and bared shoulders, but even that was distractingly attractive. Archery really did make for lovely muscles. There was something charmingly defiant about his curls when they were damp, disordered from their usual careful coiffure. His eyes had been narrowed, but when she spoke they relaxed, his wet fingers brushing hers, a droplet falling from his fingertips. The contact lingered as he took the goblet from her, their pinkies twining together. There was the slightest tug, a hesitantly hopeful beckon, and she followed it willingly.

Zynatheri sank to the new rug next to the tub, resting her temple against the cold stone basin.

The water splashed softly as he shifted, and then his hand settled on her head, long fingers idly massaging her scalp. Her eyes slitted closed like a contented cat. It felt heavenly.

“Will you read to me if I allow it?”

“Mhmm,” she agreed drowsily.

“Then yes. But I don’t know that it’s enough to make you stay.”

She sighed. It was a bit selfish of him to keep bringing it up like that, but selfishness wasn’t exactly a negative in her books. It might be crucial to his survival as well down here, and she did want that. More than she realized, and not just for the childrens’ sakes. They were both much less…sharp these days, and got along much better than before.

“It’s enough for a little while, at least,” she replied, lulled into a stupor by his languid caresses. “You have time to think of another reason.”

“Or I could just keep doing this.”

“Mmh,” she agreed drowsily. “That would work. But people would make some rather interesting assumptions about our relationship if you did it in public.”

“May I ask…” Much to her surprise he sounded a bit awkward when he trailed off. At her soft ‘hmm?’ he gave a small sigh. “I have to say this so rarely, but this actually isn’t meant as an insult. How can someone have lived for three hundred years and still be so…simple? Live so carelessly.”

She didn’t find it insulting, because he was right. “It takes more work than you might think. I did what I had to. I raised our daughter as best I could, and I’m done. That was enough responsibility.”

“It doesn’t bother you, watching your child– our childrens’ accomplishments outstrip your own?”

“They have them because of me,” she said, happily basking in that fact. All sorts of accolades, but her work had been finished! Quite honestly she loved Lily and her children, and her children’s children, but she despised babies. It was so nice there weren’t any in the family right now. “And now look at you! I gave you a whole city. Where’s the appreciation?”

“I appreciate you very much,” he said, annoyance and amusement clear. “But that doesn’t mean I understand you. There’s no ambition at all in this pretty head, is there?”

“No, ick. Not even a little. No thank you.”

“Strange little baggage.” His fingers wended through her hair, pulling strands from her braid, idly toying as he relaxed.

Contentedly she drowsed, in that half-meditative state she’d perfected over the years. Comfortable, soft, and hazy. Granted, she was leaning against stone and sitting on the floor; that could have been improved upon. But other than that, it was quite nice.

His long, graceful fingers felt nice running through her hair, with the occasional detour to stroke her cheek. Having decided to simply take this as it came, Zynatheri was perfectly happy to let him do whatever he liked; after all, if she’d had her way they would have been in bed ages ago. But that wasn’t what he needed.

She wasn’t sure he knew what he wanted, let alone needed, so she’d let him completely lead the way.

It was a shame that annoyed him, but she found that entertaining as well.

It was probably time, though, to be honest with him about what she wanted. That knowledge did annoy her, partially because it roused her from her very comfortable state, and she knew it would stop his stroking her hair. So she held back for now, mulling it over in her mind.

What was the best way to bring it up?

Probably to just be blunt; it would make things quicker.

When he asked her to reheat the water, that felt like a better time, and she prepared herself as she rose to sit on the edge of the basin. His hand left her head and settled on her thigh as she sang his water back to scalding. Too hot for her. But after his first hiss at the change in temperature, he slumped blissfully, eyes slitting closed.

He sprawled back attractively, fingers resting on the base of his cup, arm carelessly flung out of the bath.

It was amusing how his skin barely flushed from the heat, remaining pristine and alabaster as ever. Well, despite the scars. Content to lounge on the wide lip of the bath, one leg dangling down, she pulled her hair over her shoulder to re-braid, the plait loose and uneven from her long night of being lazy in bed.

As she braided, she hummed, and eventually he shifted to rest his cheek against the side of her thigh, tugging on her arm until she scooted close enough for him to get comfortable.

"Before this goes much further, I should be honest and admit to you that I'm not interested in loyalty," she said, keeping her voice calm and mild.

"Loyalty?" he asked simply.

Hmmh, that was a bit vague. Zynatheri tried again. "I generally don’t let myself get very attached to people. Yes, I have had many friends and lovers that were more than a night–”

“Lilithera didn’t seem to think that was the case,” Astarion interrupted her.

Zyn smirked, voice wry. “So that means I did my job properly. I am a...whimsical person, and I follow my whims. Does that bother you?"

"Stop prancing around the point, please," he said with a tinge of annoyance. He huffed, shifting his head against her thigh so he could glance up at her, ruby eyes narrowed. "Just come out and say it plainly."

"I bed a lot of people," she said, unable to help a small laugh cascading over her words. "And I don't plan on stopping. But it's only bedding and nothing more."

Astarion gave a faint 'hmm', eyes drifting back to the bath. "As long as you don't sow chaos down here, darling, I don't particularly care. Lily, on the other hand..."

"Our girl doesn’t need to know the sort of things you and I get up to, Astarion.”

“Excuse me? Why, I’m a very model of virtue,” he scoffed.

What an absolute liar.

Even when he was alive he was an awful person.

“Sounds like someone wants to hear the story of how we actually met,” she said with a quirk of her lips.

Affront tainted both his voice and expression as he reared back, straightening up in the water. “Did you lie to me?”

“No,” she laughed, leaning down. “I simply didn’t tell the whole truth. Not in front of Lily! She’d be shocked by what a degenerate you were.”

He pinched the end of her nose, smiling when she reared back in offense. “Mmh, now I must know.”

She reached out a hand for his cup, admiring the way he picked it up to hand it to her. The way the stem slid between his fingers that curved up to cradle the bowl actually reminded her of that night they’d met some two centuries before. That realization made the memory sharper, closer to the surface. It would be easier to tell.

“I’m going to get some wine. And maybe a pillow, the edge of the bath is too hard for my poor arse.” Zyn rose to her feet, slipping around the curtain to leave the bathing alcove.

His voice followed her retreat plaintively. “Refill?”

“Yes, that’s why I took your cup,” she chuckled, amused with him. “Does it feel better to sip throughout the day, or to just have one big bite?”

“You know, I’ve never thought about it,” he mused. “I hadn’t really ever had the chance to drink my fill before the nautiloid. There’s just something to be said for experience of having it in a civilized manner, even if it is better straight from the source. It makes the animal blood…more palatable.”

She set his glass down and went into the next room in search of the wine she’d been promised earlier. Dizzying, crowded, stacks of crates, barrels, and sacks were haphazardly left from floor to ceiling with absolutely no rhyme or reason at all. Zynatheri felt the twinge of a headache. How did he live like this?!

How did he find anything?

“Where the hells is the wine?”

“Ah…somewhere on the left wall, in a crate with a missing slat.”

She stared over her shoulder at the doorway, expression flattening. “That’s the best you can do.”

“It is! You’re so understanding, darling~!”

“Remember, if you murder him, Lilithera will be upset,” she told herself, loudly enough for him to hear.

He laughed, the sound both self-satisfied and innocently delighted, as if he were a child playing some impish prank.

It was frustrating how delightful the bastard was. Zynatheri forged into the crates with an annoyed, but determined air. It took her a few minutes to find what she was after, but eventually she located the wine. The crate was stamped with the Zhentarim sigil. Tsk.

What a thief.

Amused, she liberated a bottle from it, turning it over. Not her favorite, but decent enough. It’d do. With a shake of her head, she scanned the mess one last time and turned to leave the room. No door, of course; most of the doors were gone entirely. One day perhaps they’d replace it, but she really needed at least a curtain.

Now that she knew the mess was there, she’d keep thinking about it unless it was hidden.

“I now know the reason you want me to stay. So I keep cleaning up after you.”

“Mmh, that is a nice bonus…but only a bonus, my little fox.”

Zynatheri couldn’t even hold it against him, quite honestly, because after escaping from Menzoberranzan her own cleaning habits had been rather atrocious. Trauma had a way of doing that. Ugh, no, she couldn’t think about that too much or she’d be even more inclined to stay.

Something about Astarion made her want to coddle him.

In lieu of a second goblet, which did not exist, she just worked the cork out with her knife and resigned herself to drinking from the bottle. Not the first time, nor the last. Leaving the corked blade on his desk, she refilled his glass and brought both back to the bath.

Still impossibly, irritatingly alluring, he was slumped in the bath with his eyes closed, a loose, damp curl clinging charmingly to his forehead. Amused, she set the bottle down and perched on the edge of the tub reaching out to lightly brush it aside. One ruby eye cracked open to peek up at her, his mouth still soft and inviting in relaxation.

“Your wine,” she teased, offering him the glass of rothe blood.

With a faint smile he accepted it, their fingers lightly brushing. As he turned to set it aside, she began to rise, only to stall as he abruptly grabbed her by the waistband of her trousers. Curiously, she peeked over at him. He wasn’t even looking at her, but when she tugged at his wrist, he finally glanced her way.

“Where are you going?” he asked arrogantly, as if she didn’t have the right.

“I need a pillow, I told you.”

“Come in the bath.” He gave her another, more forcible tug, stalling when she slapped his arm.

Zyn glared at him, scooting further away despite his pulling on her. “I don’t have other clothes, you pain in my arse. What am I supposed to do when they get drenched?”

“You do have other clothes. Lily sent them for you,” he reminded her, and laughed at her instant scowl. He released her trousers with a flick of his hand, voice dismissive. “Go get your pillow. I want my story time.”

“People pay good money for what you get for free, you know,” she teased him, careful not to knock over her wine as she slid to her feet. “But you always did have a good eye.”

There was a hint of a purr to his voice, intrigue and coquettish interest. “Did I? I’d love to hear about it.”

Hmm. Why not make it a bit more entertaining? Show him why she was worth the bribery it would take to keep her around more often.

Magic, summoned by her voice and the story she began to weave, sufficed the room with illusion to echo her tale. A murmur of vague conversation, the clink of glass, laughter and music filled the air. The surroundings blurred, overlaid by a scene of gilded pillars and indistinct figures dancing and conversing. The flowers in the vases, draped over the windows…they’d been blue and yellow, she thought.

They blossomed in bright bursts of color, adding more detail to the illusory environs.

“It was a party, an event for the younger nobility. Which of course meant it was full of drunken revelry, licentious behavior, and other entertaining things. I myself…” She peeked around the curtain with a coy smirk, lowering her lashes to peek at him through them. “I was there to catch the eye of my target.”

Astarion smiled lazily, finger idly circling the rim of his glass as he watched her through the steam. “The target you were going to kill. But why were you going to kill him?”

“Oh, darling, it’s always better not to know when you’re doing it for money.”

It was very little surprise that he immediately rested his head on her thigh again with a possessive air.

“Which I did, of course, having been…informed of his preferences beforehand.” She took a sip of the wine, wetting her throat. “He wasn’t very interesting to me on a personal level, quite honestly. Boring. But a job is a job, after all. His friend, however, I found quite to my taste. Very handsome. Beautiful hands– actually the first thing I noticed.”

Astarion smirked, lifting a hand out of the bath to stare at it, water dripping from his fingertips, beaded droplets clinging to his skin like polished jewels. “They are nice, aren’t they?”

“Mmh,” she agreed, voice languid and slow. “I was aware that there was a small getaway planned to someone’s riverside estate. Which was, of course, the perfect opportunity to get the job done. I flirted my way into an invitation. To be entertainment, of course, not a guest.”

“I’m certain there were all kinds of entertainment you had planned,” he teased her.

Zyn laughed, unabashed. “I wanted to enjoy myself a little before having to run.”

“Quite understandable, really.”

“Your ‘friend’ was very, very flirty and handsy. You were not. You just watched me with a certain air that told me there were wicked things running through your mind. I have always enjoyed that in a man.”

“You were disguised as usual?”

She wove it out of light for him, a tall, slim figure with vaguely-defined features.

“Mmh. Elven. Long black hair, blue eyes– more regal than my natural state.” It’d been a long time, and she’d had to give up being Zyrenna when Cazador had nearly captured her so many years ago, but she summoned up what she thought was a good approximation.

“By regal you of course mean taller. Not that that’s difficult,” Astarion remarked, smirking smugly at her dark look. He reached up and tugged on her hair, head leaving her thigh. “I prefer you like this.”

“We made a very pretty baby, didn’t we?”

“We did! Let’s never do it again,” Astarion replied.

Zyn laughed, reaching over and playfully tweaking the tip of his ear. A rather rudely familiar gesture. “I agree. I’d never do it again– hadn’t exactly meant to the first time around.”

“Back to my story,” he ordered, resting his chin on her thigh.

Her fingers toyed with his hair, knowing touching his ears any more might get her snapped at. Hair was safe for now, he showed no signs any more of being uneasy with or disgusted by her touch. It might change. Boundaries would be drawn and moved with time; luckily she was very flexible and good at reading people. He could snap and grumble as he liked, it didn’t bother her.

Warnings, not attacks.

She would respect them as best she could.

Figures, little more than shaped shadow, gathered and parted in a dance of gossip and intrigue. The only two forms with any real substance were that elven disguise of hers, of course, and a slim figure in white and crimson.

She couldn't quite remember what he'd looked like back then, but that was all right.

“It was an…interesting crowd. Ambitious, young, pretty. The type of nobles that think throwing money and power around is a substitute for cunning and experience. Sharks snapping at the common schools of fish, unaware of how dangerous the ocean could be even for predators like them,” she smirked, amused by that memory. Lots of money to be made from people like that. Lots of enemies to be made, too. “It was no wonder a single assassin was so successful. It was no wonder I was so arrogant and sloppy.”

“Something went wrong,” he surmised.

Memories might fade, but grudges were forever. “The little bastard drugged my wine!”

Astarion laughed delightedly at her offended tone, the corners of his eyes crinkling in an impossibly charming manner. Grudgingly she laughed as well. It was quite funny in hindsight– she’d never had the temperament for being an assassin; it was just easy money and entertaining. But sooner or later, she would have ended up dead.

Maybe Lilithera had been even more important to her survival than she realized.

“So, instead of making it look like an accident after getting my fun in, I had no choice but to slit his throat and run; trying to find a place to pass out until the potion’s effects faded.” A bright splash of crimson drew eyes back to the illusion briefly, as the vague semblance of their forms playacted out the murder. The recollection irritated her. “What kind of man drugs women who were already planning to sleep with him? What an absolute cunt.”

Astarion laughed with relish, eyes on the pantomime as wel. “Well, from everything you’re telling me…”

“I should have seen it coming? Mmh, I agree,” she said, annoyed. Bloody entitled bastards. A door burst open, a staggering figure in black all but falling through it, struggling to stand. Not injured, but faltering all the same.

“I thought I’d found a safe place. I had not.” The figure in black collapsed, and another, paler one came to stand over it, staring curiously. “It was the bastard’s very pretty friend’s room, it turned out, and apparently highly amused that the entire place was in a panic hunting for me…he kept me safe.”

“You were passed out.”

“Mhmmm.”

“Which meant you were out of disguise.”

“Correct,” she agreed, lips quirking up into a little smile.

“I’d say that sounds ridiculous, but it was me, so…I suppose that makes sense,” Astarion allowed, shifting back to resting his cheek on her thigh, which she appreciated. The chin was just a bit too pointy. “Everyone running around in a panic looking for an assassin all snugly tucked into my bed does sound very entertaining.”

Zyn gave him a very strange look, which he didn’t see. “I didn’t get to that part of the story yet.”

“Metaphor, darling, but I can’t say I’m surprised it was literal as well.”

“Naturally, when I roused we bickered, threatened each other a bit. There was a knife involved. Then, we had sex. The knife was also involved in that.”

Astarion smirked, eyes fixed on the illusion, watching idly as their figures pantomimed the story of their tumultuous meeting. “What fun.”

“Afterwards, blood apparently running a bit too hot, you tried to convince me to murder other people so you could watch. While I was being hunted. Because you’d ‘never seen it before’.”

“Well, you were already there,” he reasoned, as if that was a sane thing to request.

“I declined, but we continued keeping company. Adorable, bloodthirsty, and excellent at taking orders in bed– is it any wonder we got along? I’m talking about both of us, incidentally. We weren’t lovers for long. Perhaps a month? You stood me up one day, so I shrugged and left town, not realizing you’d been kidnapped.” Zynatheri didn’t blame herself for that, of course. What could she have done against a Vampire Lord then? Hells, they’d only managed to kill Cazador two hundred years later because he’d gotten arrogant and desperate.

“And, let me guess. You found out you were pregnant.”

“Mmh. Two years later, I had Lilithera. Sometimes I think about what a forgotten thing you would have been to me without her,” she admitted, gazing at the illusion of her younger self cradling the baby Lily had been. Possibly. It was difficult to say if it was accurate any more; their daughter was two hundred years old, and she didn’t exactly retain her memories as clearly as a high elf might. “Hmmh. How funny the whims of Fate are. Men and gods may try to control it, but it always slips through the cracks in the most unexpected of ways.”

As that seemed a fitting end to the story, she let the spell drift free, edges, forms dissipating into colored light and then nothingness.

They both fell silent for a time, each in their own thoughts.

Eventually she began humming to him again, and Astarion gave a sigh she felt, but didn't hear. His eyes drifted closed, delicate lashes brushing his skin. It made the dark circles all the more apparent, giving his face an arresting fragility at rest.

Astarion could never know how close she was to giving him anything he asked for.

He'd absolutely use it against her.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #tav: zynatheri rivati #astarion x tav #Fanfic Friday #I know it ends a little abruptly but the next part isn't finished <3

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