#ive held out on the urge for so long

[zarameraki]

♡₊˚🥀₊✧ 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗯𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝘂𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗲 ♡₊˚🥀₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 king x concubine 𖥔 lots of plot with porn 𖥔 mentions of abuse 𖥔 mentions of sexual assault 𖥔 normal form sukuna (sorry yall but next time ill do his big boy one) 𖥔 he only has eyes for you 𖥔 you're his darling 𖥔 he would kill for you 𖥔 breeding (!!!!) 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 8.8k

: ̗̀➛ notes: this took a whole WEEK to edit. im so obsessed with this story. it's my favourite thing ive written because i love period movies and dramas and really got to challenge my writing skills to give it more a fantasy-esque element. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

The diligent hands of Lord Sukuna Ryomen’s palace attendants scrubbed away the grime that clung to every inch of your weary form. There were no traces of tears in your eyes, despite the discomfort of the cleansing process.

Perhaps it was the residue of gratitude for an escape from a foster family who saw fit to barter you away for a pittance to fuel their vices.

The water surrounding you had transformed into a murky haze, carrying away the evidence of your former life's hardships.

Yet, amidst this cleansing ritual, you couldn’t shake the puzzling thought of why the guards had singled you out from the other young women within the household. Uraume, the overseer of palace affairs, had arrived alongside them, their presence looming over the proceedings with an air of mystery.

That morning, you were subjected to abuse in front of everyone at the central market, longing for someone to stand up for you. And someone did. They offered you an escape from that hellhole and into a world of luxury.

You weren’t going to complain now that you had accepted this new fate of yours.

“Ya’ got too many scars, girl,” remarked one of the elderly attendants, gently assisting you out of the steaming bath, her hands wrapping a towel around your shivering form. “Our powders will struggle to conceal ’em all. How did ya’ come by such marks?”

“From my foster family,” you murmured, gaze fixed upon your toes as if they held the weight of your past. The plush carpet beneath your feet offered a small comfort, a luxury unfamiliar to your upbringing.

Memories of their harsh discipline flooded back—the blistering gravel underfoot as punishment for daring to voice dissent. It was a brutal introduction to a world where obedience was paramount.

“A wretched lot,” the attendant muttered sympathetically.

Enveloped in a silk robe, she led you into a chamber shared by a cohort of women, a realm far removed from the confines of your previous abode. Here, space was ample—the expanse excessive, with beds lining the walls and a high ceiling adorned with a single chandelier.

As you entered, a symphony of pretty faces and inquisitive gazes greeted you. Women of all colours and shapes reclined luxuriously in plain robes, their hair intricately braided or cascading freely down their backs. Conversations paused, curiosity piqued by your arrival, as all eyes turned to welcome you into their midst.

Beneath the weight of their scrutinising stares, you found yourself shrinking. These women, draped in silk and adorned with jewels, were the king's favoured concubines, a fact repeatedly emphasised during your journey to the palace and even in the fragrant confines of the bathhouse.

Every instinct urged you to rebel, to refuse to be just another ornament in the king’s harem, but you understood the value placed on purity by the monarch.

Unfortunately, your innocence had been cruelly stolen from you by your foster father, leaving you tarnished in body and spirit. Lord Sukuna would have no use for a damaged flower in his garden of perfection.

In truth, you couldn’t even imagine an image of his face in your mind. His Lordship remained a mystery to those beyond the palace walls.

“Here ya’ are.” The attendant guided you to your bed. “That vanity there’s yours to use.” She gestured toward the communal area by the window, where two other young women were preparing themselves. “Once your hair dries, one of my girls will assist ya’ in preparin’ for your audience with His Lordship.” Her touch was gentle as she caressed your cheek. “Rest assured, dear, ya’ safe now.”

You attempted a smile, though the effort seemed Herculean amidst your weariness.

As the attendant departed, her scolding to the rowdy girls fading into the background, you nestled into the comforting embrace of your soft bedding, ignoring the hushed criticisms trailing in your wake.

She’s feeble.

Her hair lacks refinement.

The king would never entertain a lowly pauper.

She’ll be gone by tomorrow.

Their words, like venomous serpents, slithered through the air.

Amidst their degradation, you succumbed to exhaustion.

But your slumber was interrupted by the bustling commotion of handmaidens assembling around you.

Disoriented and scarcely given a moment to collect your thoughts, you found yourself swiftly escorted to the vanity, where the clamour of girls jostling for space filled the air.

They manipulated your locks, weaving intricate patterns into your hair, fashioning a crown braid atop your head while allowing the remaining tresses to cascade freely down your back.

Meanwhile, other attendants removed your robe, their hands moving with practised efficiency as they anointed your skin with fragrant oils, infusing it with the delicate essence of lavender.

Between the flurry of activity, the whispers of your fellow concubines hung in the air like a veil of awe and trepidation. Their eyes were drawn to the scars marring your skin, as they speculated about how the king would perceive your imperfections as repulsive.

Good.

You craved precisely that outcome.

If the king recoiled at your sight, it meant he wouldn’t desire you to bear his heir. If the tales circulating in the town about his monstrous nature held any truth, then he’d likely offer you death as a reprieve—and you’d welcome it with open arms.

Before facing the king, you stole a glance at your reflection, the final moments of solitude before your fate was decided. The powder concealed the imperfections of your skin, rendering it smooth and flawless. Your cheeks and lips bore a muted hue reminiscent of crushed cherries. Delicate white blossoms adorned your hair, woven into your braids by nimble fingers.

As you stood, the other women adorned you in a robe of silky fabric, its floral pattern draping over your form, cinched at the waist to accentuate your curves. Barefoot, you followed them out, the chill of the floor beneath your feet a stark contrast to the warmth of anticipation and trepidation swirling within you.

“Good luck, pauper,” taunted one of the concubines, her voice dripping with disdain, echoed by a cacophony of mocking laughter.

Palms clammy with nerves, you shifted your gaze to the opulence of the palace corridors. Adorned with countless chandeliers and swathes of velvet drapery, they offered a stark contrast to the blooming back garden. Memories of tending to the earth and nurturing life back at your foster family’s home flooded your mind.

“Quickly now,” one of the maids urged, her voice tinged with urgency. “His Lordship detests tardiness.”

“I apologise.” You hastened your steps to keep pace with the group of attendants.

She halted before a grand set of double doors, guarded by imposing sentinels clad in formidable armour. With a flick of her wrist, the guards swung the doors open. She gently nudged you forward, and only as you crossed the threshold did the doors seal shut behind you.

You blinked, adjusting to the dimness within, scanning the chamber until your gaze alighted upon a pair of crimson glimmers opposite you. “My Lord?” You inclined your head and took hesitant steps toward the source of those fiery eyes.

“Come closer,” his command echoed through the chamber, sending a shiver down your spine. The low resonance of His Highness Sukuna Ryomen’s voice was unexpectedly rich and velvety. You had envisioned a voice tinged with age, but instead, it possessed a rough texture that awoken something within you.

With hesitant steps, you approached until you stood at the edge of his bed, your fingertips grazing the diaphanous curtains that enveloped him in a cocoon of privacy.

“Closer,” he urged, coaxing you to unveil the enigma lying beyond the veil.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you obeyed, parting the curtains and gracefully crawled onto the mattress. The silkiness of the sheets were a blatant contrast to the roughness of your foster house’s. A pang of guilt tugged at your conscience as you realized the irony of finding solace in this luxurious confinement of being his concubine.

“Enough.” His abrupt order halted your thoughts, drawing your attention back to the present moment.

As commanded, you obediently settled into your posture, folding your legs beneath you in the dimness. Within his shadowed realm, only the luminous crimson irises pierced through the gloom, studying you with an intensity that made your belly churn. Despite the curiosity burning within you, you restrained the impulse to voice your questions. Instead, you settled in the tranquillity that crowded the space between you.

“What is your name?” His inquiry cut through the hushed air.

“Y/N, my Lord.”

As your name slipped from your lips, he captured it delicately, repeating it like a sacred prayer. Each syllable danced on his tongue, imprinting itself upon the very essence of his being. In that moment, you observed a subtle shift—the shadows that had cloaked the chamber seemed to dissipate.

A soft, golden luminescence filtered through the parted curtains, cascading across half of Sukuna’s face.

You blinked in astonishment.

He appeared . . . young?

The age difference between you and him was not a chasm of decades, but rather a modest gap of no less than five years.

Physically, at least.

His appearance was striking, with locks of hair dyed a subdued pink hue, contrasting with a streak of darker shade beneath. His hair was styled into rugged spikes, lending an air of defiance. Intricate black markings adorned his features, tracing a path from his cheekbones down to his chin, while similar patterns wove across his strong shoulder, cascading over his defined pectoral muscles and sculpted abdomen.

As your eyes fell upon him, your heart quickened its pace, each beat a vicious drumming against your ribs. Gone was the expectation of a lord showing the signs of wisdom, with wrinkles upon his brow and a body marked by the passage of time. Instead, before you sat a vision of breathtaking beauty, defying your preconceived notions and leaving you breathless in awe.

With a graceful gesture, he swept aside the curtains, allowing them to unveil his entirety.

The same markings mirrored the other side of his face and cascaded down the length of his body, a mesmerising display of symmetry. Dark bands encircled his wrists, and his nails bore the same deep hue.

Poised against the headboard, he reclined with an air of effortless elegance, one knee raised as his elbow found a comfortable perch, while the other leg extended out. Though he was unclothed, a veil of silk sheets cloaked the lower half of his form.

“Remarkable,” you unknowingly whispered. Your hand clapped over your mouth. “I apologise, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s lips curved into a sinister grin, his flawless teeth gleaming in the golden light. While many would flee at the sight, you remained rooted in place, unable to tear your gaze away. A delicate flush spread across your cheeks, betraying the undeniable attraction simmering between your legs. He was absolutely divine, and the path of being his concubine suddenly didn’t seem so terrible.

Yet, the reality of sharing Sukuna with ten other women loomed over your thoughts like a shadow. The thought of him spreading his affections among so many others kindled a small flame of jealousy within you, mingled with confusion. Why hadn’t he impregnated at least one of them with the promise of an heir?

“Have you not been schooled in the art of lowering your gaze in the presence of nobility, Y/N?”

Your lashes fluttered as you registered your lapse in decorum, hastily averting your gaze. “Forgive me, my Lord, if my oversight has caused offence.” Surely, he wouldn’t punish you for a momentary lapse of admiration.

Would he?

A gentle touch beneath your chin guided your face upward. His fingers spread across your cheek, the warmth nearly forcing you to curve into his touch. Despite the temptation, your eyes remained obediently downward.

“Look at me.”

Your gaze lingered on him, tracing the delicate patterns etched over his cheek, the fiery hue of his irises, the elegant contour of his nose, and the soft curvature of his lips. Never before had you felt such a rousing desire towards any man. Yet fate had chosen to ensnare your heart with the one most forbidden to you.

“You bear a sadness that weighs heavily in your eyes,” he noted softly, his hand descending to the curve of your neck, his thumb caressing the frantic rhythm of your pulse. A low, melodic sound produced from his throat. “Tell me, my love, does the face before you stir fear within your heart?”

“It does not, my Lord. The fear of your appearance holds no dominion over me,” you declared with quiet resolve. “You’re quite . . . beautiful.”

Sukuna’s gaze sparked with a mixture of surprise and intrigue at your response.

Suppressing a nervous gulp, you silently reprimanded yourself for speaking so boldly to one of noble rank. Back in the confines of your former life, such defiance would have earned you swift punishment, yet here, in the presence of royalty, it could lead to your demise.

As you prepared to avert your gaze, ready to accept whatever consequences may come, Sukuna’s voice cut through the tense air before you could retreat.

“Don’t.”

In that moment, you found yourself questioning your instincts.

Why did you not cower in fear? Why did your body not tremble in the presence of a man who had slaughtered the lives of his enemies without hesitation? And most perplexing of all, how could you maintain unwavering eye contact with a figure of such formidable power?

“Remove your robe.” His grip remained firm around your throat, his thumb delicately tracing your pulse. “And do not stray your gaze elsewhere.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Your fingers loosened the fabric’s bindings, allowing it to cascade down your frame, and revealing the soft curvature of your form beneath. As it pooled around your lap, your breasts stood exposed to his scrutiny.

A shiver danced across your skin as his eyes traced the contours of your body, a faint smirk teasing his lips.

He brushed back strands of your hair, his touch trailing down your vertebrate. His eyes narrowed into thin slits, brows knitted together in contemplation, fingers repeatedly tracing the ridges of your scars.

“Turn around.”

The dreaded discovery that sent ripples of revulsion through the concubines had finally come to pass. Your scars lay exposed before the gaze of a powerful lord. Not only would he slit your throat, but also those of the maids who had tended to your needs, and perhaps even Uruame, who had brokered your purchase from the bastards responsible for your imperfections.

“Never before have I been compelled to repeat myself for a concubine.” His voice carried a lethal edge as he increased his grip around your throat. “Turn the fuck around.”

Your compliance came in slow, measured movements as you turned away, presenting your back to him in a gesture of submission. His hands gathered the strands of your hair, lifting them aside to reveal the raw truth etched into your skin. His fingers traced the jagged remnants of whip lashes, the seared imprints of cigars, and the cruel reminders of knife wounds inflicted by a foster father turned tormentor.

Silent tears traced a path down your cheeks, as you sat in a state of numbness, your gaze fixed upon the closed door of Sukuna’s chamber.

A tender sensation, soft and moist, grazed your back, prompting a reflexive twitch in your left shoulder.

Turning slightly, you beheld Sukuna pressing his lips against the scar that marred your shoulder blades.

“My Lord—”

“I did not ask you to speak,” he murmured over your skin, sending a tremor through your frame. “Rise onto your knees.”

Obeying his command, you ascended onto your knees, feeling the weight of his hands settle upon your waist. His lips trailed a path of reverence, bestowing kisses upon each mark that scarred your skin, from your marrow to your nape.

Your breath caught in a delicate dance of exhales, a whispered symphony escaping your parted lips. The wet caress of his tongue sent ripples of sensation coursing through your being.

His arm circled your waist, drawing you into the sanctuary of his embrace. A fleeting kiss graced the nape of your neck, followed by the suction of his lips upon the tender side of your neck. His soft hands possessively held the curve of your breasts, cradling their weight.

Your head reclined against his strong shoulder.

With his gaze fixed upon you, his lips glistened with a hint of moisture, while his crimson eyes locked onto your own human-like ones. You dared not divert your gaze as he previously ordered. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, sending lightning strikes through your frame.

Unlike the non-consensual encounter of the past, there was no hint of agony; only a tantalising blend of pleasure that left you breathless, without a protest or helpless whimper. Instead, a sigh of pure rapture escaped your lips, encompassing your body in an embrace.

Sukuna’s gaze narrowed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as if he had stumbled upon a long-sought treasure.

His fingertips skated down your torso, gliding toward your centre. You captured your bottom lip between your teeth. Holding his gaze became a daunting challenge as he skillfully teased your sensitive nub, causing your breath to quicken and your chest to rise and fall with each exhilarating sensation.

Sukuna slid his middle finger into you. “You’re incredibly drawn, Sad Eyes,” he murmured, the endearment he had bestowed upon you almost provoking a smile. His lips grazed your ear as he continued. “Perhaps I should stretch you out”—he pushed in his ring finger, forcing a sharp gasp to tear from your throat and an involuntary arch of your body against his chest—“so that your cunt is able to welcome my cock.”

You stifled the knot rising in your throat as Sukuna plunged his fingers into you. Such profound bliss seemed inconceivable with mere digits alone.

“My Lord.” Your breath caught as he increased his tempo. “My—” Each thrust intensified the knot in your stomach, threatening to unravel you entirely. You teetered on the brink, dangerously close to staining his fingers with your release. A sharp gasp choked out of you as he struck a wondrous chord deep within. “Please, my Lord. I beg of you— I will soil your hand if you persist—” But your plea dissolved into a cry of ecstasy before you could utter another word.

Sukuna’s laughter danced teasingly in the hollow of your ear, leaving you utterly spellbound.

You were overheated, overstimulated, overridden by the explosive undoing from his fingers. Breathless and consumed by lust, your world spun as he seized your jaw and crushed his lips to yours.

In that electrifying moment, his tongue invaded your mouth, initially startling you, yet you surrendered to the rhythm.

Sukuna leaned back slightly after planting a tender peck on your lips. Exhaling softly, he threaded his fingers through your hair, his touch sending shivers down your spine. As his lips met yours once more, gentler this time, your hand ventured to trace the contours of his adorned chest.

“You are quite the vixen.” A playful glint danced in his eyes. “How valiant of you to seduce a lord into bestowing kisses upon his concubine.” A broad smile graced his lips, leaving you uncertain whether his words were playful jest or genuine admiration.

“Do you not bestow your kisses upon all your concubines, my Lord?”

“I do not pleasure their cunts, either.”

His speech carried the brashness of a tempest, a departure from the expected decorum one associated with royalty. Sukuna Ryomen defied conventions. It was a trait uncommon among lords, yet one that intrigued you deeply. His demeanour, both in battle and in the intimate confines of the bedchamber, lacked the softening. But you found yourself drawn to his unfiltered honesty, appreciating the absence of cryptic notions.

As you sat before him, considering your next words carefully, a surge of courage emboldened you to reveal your truth.

“My Lord,” you began, your voice quivering with uncertainty, “I . . . I am not pure.”

“Given the sounds you were drawing out,” he quipped with a chuckle, “I wouldn’t have surmised otherwise.” He assisted you in rising from where you rested against his chest, positioning you before him. Observing your solemn expression, he arched an eyebrow in curiosity. “Was your satisfaction not fulfilled?”

“Indeed, my Lord, it surpassed any expectation,” you confessed, worrying your lip as he sighed impatiently. “But I must disclose . . . I am not chaste.”

Sukuna’s response was subdued, save for the faint twitch in his jaw. He averted his gaze from yours momentarily, reaching for the decanter on his bedside table and pouring himself a measure of spirits.

“Speak,” he instructed, his tone clipped.

“It occurred before I reached maturity,” you murmured softly, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself. “My foster father—” Your words faltered as Sukuna raised a hand, a silent acknowledgment of his comprehension of your unspoken anguish.

“I need not hear more.” He swiftly consumed the crimson liquid in a single gulp. “You are dismissed for the night.”

“But my Lord’s desires remain unmet—”

“Leave,” he commanded, his tone final and unwavering.

With a gulp, you hastily gathered your robe around your form, delicately extricating yourself from his expansive bed.

Just as you thought to retreat, a firm hand seized your wrist, drawing you back into Sukuna’s embrace. His lips melded with yours in an intoxicating kiss, causing both your gazes to flutter open when he pulled away. A faint smirk played upon his lips as he adjusted the robe over your shoulder.

“Next time,” he murmured, plucking a flower from the adornments in your hair and placing it upon his bedside, “you shall grace my chambers without such distracting embellishments upon yourself.”

“As you wish, my Lord,” you replied with a respectful bow of your head, awaiting his dismissal until he gestured for you to depart with a casual wave of his hand.

In the shared chambers, your fellow concubines swirled around your bed, eager to hear of your inaugural encounter with Lord Sukuna.

Each girl shared their own vivid tales, painting scenes of ecstasy under the cloak of darkness, where the king’s touch invoked sensations akin to celestial bodies colliding, or where unfamiliar pleasures erased the boundaries of their throat—whatever that latter entailed.

Though a twinge of jealousy flickered within you, it was swiftly overshadowed by a swell of pride. The concubines pleasured Sukuna in darkness, the same darkness you had willingly entered, before his touch had set ablaze a world of gold for you.

They were merely beautiful means of physical gratification for their lord, devoid of the intimacy you shared—his fingers delving deep into your core. And never had any of them spoken of kisses exchanged. Sukuna had spoken true when you questioned if others received similar treatment.

But why you?

Why, after a mere span of ten hours within the palace walls, did you find yourself, dare you entertain the notion, as his favoured? What magic did you possess that drew him to you, and how had you managed to seduce his lips, his fingers, to meet yours in such an intimate embrace?

“Did he spend himself inside you?” one of the girls whispered, prodding your knee to rouse you from your silence.

“No.”

“Aye, he never does,” remarked a golden-haired girl with a resigned sigh. “He sees to it that we consume some berries afterward, claiming they prevent conception. Strange, isn’t it? Especially if he’s so eager for an heir.”

Another girl hushed her, leaning in with a conspiratorial tone. “Did he take you from behind? That’s his favoured position, you know. He’s had us all that way.”

You stumbled over your words, unsure how to respond.

“And did you savour his taste?” came the next question. “It’s quite rich in sodium—”

“Girls!” A booming voice echoed from the doorway of the bedroom, startling you and the other concubines into immediate attention. You caught sight of the elderly attendant who oversaw your care, hands planted firmly on her hips as she observed the chaotic scene before her.

With a disapproving huff, she pivoted sharply on her heel and departed, leaving a lingering sense of reprimand in her wake.

As the frenzied chatter about Sukuna’s body attributes gradually dissolved into the quietude of sleep, morning arrived with its routine of communal showerings.

Throughout the shared bath, you silently scrubbed away the remnants of the night, indulging your fellow concubines about your previous life in town.

Upon drying off and exiting the bathing chamber, you were met with an unexpected sight: a gathering of the girls clustered around your bed.

Navigating through the throng, you reached your space to discover a resplendent scarlet silk robe embroidered with intricate black floral patterns.

Gingerly lifting the note placed atop the fabric, you read Sukuna’s precise handwriting. Curious glances from the other concubines peered over your shoulders in anticipation.

No distracting embellishments, Sad Eyes.

“What does that mean?” a curious whisper floated through the air, followed by murmurs of intrigue from the other girls. “Why does he call you ‘sad eyes’?”

You clutched the letter to your chest, suppressing a grin as you ignored the questions, the mockery, and the jostling of bodies around you. Your attention was fixated on the magnificent robe gifted to you by His Lordship.

For the remainder of the evening, you slept without any interruptions, seeking to compensate for the countless nights spent battling insomnia within the confines of your foster home.

You observed with a keen eye that none of the other girls were ushered to Sukuna’s chambers; their time seemed to veer toward strolls in the back garden or spent in the dormitory, indulging in wine-fueled scandals about the palace staff, as was their custom.

As the clock struck eight in the evening, a troupe of maids entered the chamber bearing dinner trays. A wave of anticipation swept through the room as the other girls eagerly accepted their meals and accompanying pitchers of water. Your own stomach rumbled in hunger, awaiting your own turn.

But that moment never arrived.

Instead, the maid bypassed your bed entirely, moving on to the next. A surge of apprehension rippled through you as a handmaiden approached, guiding you away from the mattress and toward the vanity.

“What about my dinner?” you asked as the attendants groomed your hair.

“His Lordship has extended an invitation for you to dine with him tonight,” came the reply.

The room fell into a sudden hush.

Dine with him?

The notion sent a flurry of thoughts racing through your mind.

Before you could process further, you found yourself pulled upright, your garments removed to be replaced by the scarlet robe.

Envy flickered in the eyes of the other concubines as they observed, their resentment palpable as they stabbed at their food with exaggerated aggression. It wasn’t your doing that Sukuna had taken an unexpected interest in you.

With no adornments save for a dab of crushed cherry paste upon your lips, you were escorted to Sukuna’s chambers.

Once more, the imposing doors swung open, and you found yourself gently ushered into the chamber. As they sealed shut behind you, the room was flooded with light. Sukuna’s figure stared out at the moonlit gardens outside, clad in a billowing white silk robe.

“My Lord,” you greeted respectfully, inclining your head in deference.

“Draw near.”

Complying with his directive, you approached and stood at his side. His presence loomed over you, his stature commanding and formidable, capable of engulfing you entirely with a single embrace. Not that such thoughts dared to linger in your mind.

“Why is your face flushed?” he asked, his gaze penetrating.

You blinked, attempting to dismiss the telltale warmth creeping up your cheeks. “It’s nothing, my Lo—”

Before you could finish, Sukuna turned your chin towards him, his palm coming to rest against your forehead. A nervous swallow traced its way down your throat at his touch, his eyes trailing down your form, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as they settled upon you in your robe.

“Thank you for your gracious gift,” you murmured, feeling the warmth rise to your cheeks.

His fingers trailed through your hair, a mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes. “I anticipate nothing less than thoroughly enjoying the privilege of removing it off of you.”

You blushed deeper at his statement.

“Come now. I’ve brought a surprise for you.” He took your hand in his with a tug, guiding you towards a doorway. With a simple flick of his fingers, the door parted, revealing a dimly lit hallway beyond.

Your gaze widened in astonishment. “How did you do that, my Lord?”

“Do what?”

“You opened the door without laying a hand on it.”

Sukuna’s striking blood-coloured eyes cut to you. “There is much about me that will be unveiled in due course, my love. What you perceive is but a guise for my true nature.” His smile, oddly childlike, sent a chill down your spine.

Was he some sort of sorcerer? You’d only heard whispers of human anomalies lurking beneath the earth’s surface or sealed within vessels, but historical accounts weren't exactly your cup of tea.

“I ventured into town today,” he said.

“Oh.” You swallowed hard, recovering from his previous statement. “I hope it was a fruitful trip.”

“Indeed, quite fruitful.”

In the soft glow of the distant hallway, Sukuna’s face came into view, casting a spell of trepidation upon your heart. His features were drawn into a mask of stoicism, his eyes devoid of warmth, and his lips pressed into a firm line, jaw rigid with tension.

Parting the curtains, Sukuna drew you near, his arm sweeping out to reveal a horrifying sight: your foster father, bound to a chair with chains, wearing the cruel marks of torture.

His face marred by countless wounds, an eye absent, and teeth scattered at his feet. His dignity stripped away, his vulnerability laid bare in his nakedness, and his manhood amputated.

The sickening lurch in your stomach threatened to betray your composure. “F-Forgive my intrusion, my Lord, but is he . . . is he dead?”

Sukuna’s response was a gilded dagger from within his robe, its handle decorated with a jewel reminiscent of your own captivating eyes. Nestled within the hilt was the very flower he had plucked from your hair. Upon the blade, your name was inscribed.

“Do as you wish, my beloved,” he whispered, his voice stained with dark fascination, offering you the instrument of your foster father’s fate with a chilling sense of detachment.

You couldn’t possibly bring yourself to commit such a heinous act.

Despite the unspeakable cruelties inflicted upon you by the bastard, the idea of taking another’s life filled you with a trembling dread.

Yet, the itch to end the torment, to rid the world of such a vile presence, simmered just beneath the surface as you stood before him, his life slipping away.

A hand trailed down the back of your head, guiding your trembling fingers to grasp the dagger tightly.

Looking up, you met Sukuna’s gaze, his expression hollow, his features obscured by shadows. This was the face of the Devil that cursed his enemies on their knees and had them willingly submit to death.

With a push from behind, you stumbled forward, drawing closer to your step-father’s prone form.

Glancing back at Sukuna, you were met with an incongruously bright smile. Quite a twisted paradox, His Lordship.

Your step-father sat unconscious, the stench of his bodily fluids assaulting your senses. His wounds oozed with a sickening mixture of blood and pus, his laboured breaths the only indication of life remaining within him. The scene was painfully familiar, a mirror image of the torment you had endured countless times before.

But now, someone had intervened, offering you a chance at liberation, a chance to end the cycle of abuse once and for all.

You glanced back again.

Until Sukuna.

Your gaze reluctantly returned to the true embodiment of cruelty before you. With a steady hand, you raised your arm, wielding the dagger with purpose.

It found its mark in your foster-father’s chest, a chilling silence punctuated only by the sound of steel meeting flesh. Ignoring the strangled cry that erupted from him, you withdrew the blade, then drove it back into his heart.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

His lifeblood painted your face and stained your pristine garments, mingling with the fabric in a macabre dance of crimson. To the untrained eye, it could easily be mistaken for a mere splash of vibrant colour upon your robe.

No one would dare suspect the truth.

No one would dare come near if they knew of your sin.

No one, except Sukuna.

Once the monster over your bed was consigned to the depths of hell, his guts spilling onto the floor around your bare feet, you allowed yourself a moment of grim satisfaction.

With a contemptuous snarl, you spat upon him, a visceral response to the years of degradation he had inflicted upon you for every misstep.

A comforting warmth touched your back.

Startled by the sudden contact, you tensed before easing at the sight of Sukuna’s faint smile.

As he reached to caress your cheek, you instinctively recoiled, lowering your gaze in deference.

“Forgive me, my Lord,” you murmured, “but I cannot permit you to spoil your hands with the blood of this man.”

Sukuna’s shoes entered your line of sight as he tilted your chin upward, his moon-white sleeve wiping away the traces of blood from your mouth and its vicinity. “You appear rather exquisite painted in blood, Sad Eyes. Perhaps I ought to designate you as my prized assassin instead of a mere concubine.”

“I beg your pardon, my Lord, but I cannot partake in killing . . . again.”

“You need not worry,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he drew near. “I will defend you from any who cast their gaze upon you, let alone lay a hand upon your delicate form. Those who dare cross that line will face my wrath, their very existence extinguished before your eyes. Not a single tear shall stain your cheeks.” His lips brushed against yours. “From this moment forward, fear shall not reside within you. By my side, you shall command fear itself, my love.”

That night, Sukuna bathed you in the sanctuary of his chambers, washing away the traces of blood from your skin as you gazed at him with a sense of wonder. It wasn’t the superficial admiration the other concubines whispered about—it was a profound affection blossoming within you, nurtured by power and protection.

He draped you in the luxurious folds of one of his silk robes, summoning servants to prepare dinner. Seated upon his lap, he fed you spoonfuls of rice and chicken, even as your stomach protested its fullness. Soft kisses peppered your neck like a sweet dessert, culminating in one upon your lips before he reluctantly released you to retire to your dormitory.

In the ensuing weeks, Sukuna would consistently send a crafted robe ahead of each meeting—in the serene seclusion of his chambers, where the flickering candlelight cast shadows upon the walls as you dined together.

Over the course of these intimate dinners, he eagerly absorbed your musings, whether they revolved around the narratives of books discovered within the palace library or your adeptness with herbs and plants, nurtured by your profound knowledge.

On occasion, as the first light of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, Sukuna would summon you for a stroll in the haven of the back garden. Woven between the fragrant blooms, you’d dance about with childlike enthusiasm, identifying various flowers and tracing their lineage.

Ever the attentive listener, Sukuna trailed behind you, his gaze fixed upon your animated figure. He would only speak when you fell silent, demanding you to continue sharing the familial ties between apples, plums, and the roses they stemmed from.

Within the crevice of your soul, the once withered garden of affection had flourished into a lush wilderness, blossoming with untamed wildflowers and clouds that spelled out his name.

Sukuna inhabited your every waking thought, his intoxicating mouth that worshipped your body left you giggling in delight behind your hands.

Yet, each encounter with a fellow concubine, flushed and eager with tales of their rendezvous with him, felt like thorns piercing your tender heart. Jealousy, like ivy creeping upon stone, entwined itself around your every plagued thought. Your gaze often strayed to the bedside drawer where the dagger lay dormant. The mere mention of his physique by the other women tormented your soul relentlessly.

Why hadn’t Sukuna taken you as he had with every other concubine? You had grown accustomed to his presence, even eager to reciprocate the pleasure he gifted you every evening. You had offered yourself willingly, aching for the intimacy that would bind you even closer to him. But he had not claimed you in the same manner, not entered you fully, not seeded his legacy within you.

Did he question your worthiness? Did he see you merely as a transient pleasure? Were you destined to remain just a concubine, forever denied the honour of carrying his child?

“Why do you remain silent?” Sukuna asked, turning the pages of the book you had suggested to him; he was already half-way through.

You were seated snugly between his legs upon the bed, your back rested against his chest, fingers idly toying with the strands of your hair. “I find myself devoid of words this evening.”

“Hmm.” Sukuna took a leisurely sip of his drink before placing it aside. “Surely you can conjure something. You know well enough that I cannot endure your silence.”

With an exasperated sigh, you rolled your eyes. “Well, I apologise for failing to provide you with amusement, my Lord.”

Sukuna snapped the book shut.

You instinctively pressed your lips together, silently chiding yourself for the unintended sharpness in your voice.

With a heavy sigh, you resigned yourself to maintaining your composure, forcing yourself to take slow, steady breaths. Deep down, you believed that he wouldn’t inflict harm upon you or cast you out of his chambers. But the nagging thought chewed at you.

This was Sukuna Ryomen, and you . . . well, you were merely a shadow in comparison.

“If you crave my touch,” he breathed softly into your ear, “all you need to do is utter the request.”

With a determined resolve, you turned to face him, settling yourself upon his lap. Sukuna regarded you with a quirked eyebrow, a quiet acknowledgment of your unconventional audacity.

“I do crave your touch, my Lord,” you confessed, your voice a hushed plea, “but not only with your hands or lips. I long to feel you in a different manner.” Your gaze drifted down to his pelvis, the unspoken appetite evident in your eyes. “I crave that.”

Sukuna exhaled heavily, his gaze piercing as he addressed you. “So, you’ve been withholding your words simply because I haven’t fed you my cock?"

Heat rose to your cheeks at his blunt proclamation, though you had grown accustomed to his coarse mannerisms over time.

“Yes, my . . . Lord.” Your voice carried a mixture of embarrassment. “I’ve endured three long months of anticipation, patiently waiting to share in the pleasures enjoyed by your other consorts. Yet, with the arrival of autumn, I find myself still untouched by the experiences they so openly boast about.”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Are you asking me to bed you merely for the purpose of becoming a notch in your bragging rights?”

“Never, my Lord!” you protested vehemently, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes. “I would never demean you with such vulgar talk in public. I’ve spun tales to the others, concealing the truth of our encounters. They remain oblivious to the pleasures you’ve granted me.” Your fingers traced the intricate markings on his chiselled abdominal muscles. “If my spoiled state displeases you, if I am deemed unworthy of your touch, pray, inform me now. Regardless, my sole wish is to fulfil His Lordship’s needs.”

Sukuna disentangled your hands from his chest, a gesture that caused a fissure to form within your heart, forcing your body to instinctively withdraw from his touch.

Just as you began to pull away, he swiftly encircled his arm around your waist, tugging you back onto his lap with a firm grip. Before you could utter a single word, his lips descended upon yours, silencing any protest with a passionate kiss.

With a purposeful touch, he skillfully divested you of your robe, revealing the curves of your form beneath. His hands, warm and adept, began to massage your supple breasts, kindling soft gasps from your lips. His own trailed a wet path downward, leaving a bridge of feverish kisses along the expanse of your throat, lingering over the rapid pulse beneath your skin.

As his lips found purchase on the tender flesh of your neck, his actions became more urgent, his touch more demanding. A pinch at your pebbled nipples sent a shiver of sensation coursing through you, followed by the heat of an open-mouthed kiss.

Your gaze drifted downwards, enchanted by the sight of his tongue encircling the sensitive spots, suckling on the swollen buds like a babe. Already, heat was building within the depths of your being, igniting a flame that spread between your legs.

Sukuna laid you back, relishing the delicate flavour of your lips as his fingers skillfully sought out your throbbing clit, stimulating it with unhurried circles.

With practised ease, he slipped two fingers inside you, quickening his rhythm without preamble. Your hand instinctively traced down to his chest, undoing the fastenings of his robe.

“Take it,” he whispered against your mouth, his breath mingling with yours. “Satisfy your lord, my love.”

Your fingers curled around his pulsating cock, the very object of desire that the other girls had passionately recounted. The knowledge of their previous intimacies with him only stoked the flames of envy within you, spurring you to intensify your ministrations.

With a surge of determination, you quickened the pace of your caresses, applying pressure with your thumb upon his sensitive tip while fondling his sacs.

Sukuna’s grin widened against your lips as he reciprocated with equal zeal, slipping a third finger into your slick heat until he was fully engulfed by your swollen core.

Together, you sailed upon the waves of raw carnal desire, locked in a lecherous race to reach your climax, each vying to be the first to cross the finish line—

Sukuna’s low, guttural moans resonated throughout the chamber.

You had achieved victory.

His essence spilled forth into your waiting hands, his cock convulsing with the intensity of his release. Moments later, you succumbed to your own climax, a soft cry escaping your lips.

With care, Sukuna withdrew his hand from your centre, and you instinctively examined your palm, noting the striking resemblance of his essence to your own.

You tentatively brought your fingers to your lips, savouring the taste of him.

“I did not instruct you to do that,” he growled, his gaze blazing as you tasted him. “But I suppose I’ll permit it.”

“It is salty,” you murmured, almost absentmindedly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, are you women incapable of discussing anything besides my cock?” he exclaimed, frustration evident in his tone.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension dissipating as he cleaned his fingers with his tongue before tenderly cradling the back of your head, drawing you to sit upon his lap. Your laughter softened into chuckles, a smile playing upon your lips.

“Did I please you, my Lo—”

“Sukuna,” he interrupted firmly. “Only you may address me by my given name.”

“My L—”

“I command it.” His tone left no room for argument.

You affirmed your agreement with a nod.

He was Sukuna.

Your Sukuna.

“Very well, Sukuna.” You felt a subtle shift in the air between you. His chuckle rumbled softly. “Shall I turn around for you?”

“And why do you deem such an unnecessary act necessary?”

“Because—” You suppressed the urge to divulge the whispers of the other concubines regarding his favoured position. “Never mind. How would you prefer me to present myself to you?”

“As you are,” Sukuna answered, his grip tightening around himself. “How you managed to have me spend by your hand in under five minutes is a marvel beyond my comprehension.”

Internally, you gave yourself a congratulatory pat on the back.

“Now, my love,” he said, inclining his chin towards his erection, “will you do my cock the honour of sitting on it?”

Licking the grin of your lips, you nodded, rising to your knees. With nimble fingers, you positioned his hardened length at your entrance, gradually lowering yourself onto him.

A sharp intake of breath escaped Sukuna’s lips, his hands instinctively grasping your hips. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, enduring the initial sting of penetration. Perhaps every touch of his fingers had been a meticulous groundwork for this pinnacle moment.

As you settled into your seat upon him, you granted yourself a minute to acclimate to the sheer magnitude of him stretching and filling your tight, supple walls.

Sukuna tilted his head back, impatience evident in his eyes. “Will you begin moving at a pace befitting this century, Sad Eyes?”

“Just a moment,” you retorted, your tone tinged with irritation.

“Unfortunately, the sight of your leaking cunt is testing my patience,” he remarked, his gaze lingering provocatively on your flushed form.

Collecting yourself, you affirmed your resolve with a nod before subtly adjusting your position, and swaying your hips forward. His strong hands guided you, aiding your movements as you sought a rhythm. “Gods, you’re— You’re quite large. It’s rather discomforting.”

“Ah, where has the enthusiasm to please your lord vanished, my love?” His laughter echoes through the chamber as he leaned back, amused by your scowl. “I must confess, your defiance is perhaps your most alluring trait. It has crossed my mind more than once during moments of handling myself in the bath.”

Your brow furrowed in dismay.

It was evident that the other concubines possessed far greater expertise in pleasuring him than you ever could. All you could manage was to feign enthusiasm, your movements faltering and disjointed, as you struggled to produce even a fraction of the satisfaction they effortlessly blessed him with. His laughter, which wasn’t helping your cause, bore an uncanny resemblance to the mocking tones of the girls who had taunted you in the past.

You no longer wished to endure this charade.

You halted in your tracks, unable to muster the courage to meet his gaze, your eyes fixated instead on his throat. “It appears . . . that I may not be adequately versed in fulfilling your needs. I shall endeavour to educate myself further before making another attempt. For now, I request permission to retire for the evening, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s grip tightened as he seized your jaw, compelling you to meet his gaze. “You dare to defy my command to address me by my given name?” His smile remained wicked as he drew your face closer to his own. “Remember, my love, there is a boundary to which I tolerate your rebellion. Do not allow my affections to cloud your judgement. I remain your Lord, above all else. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you managed to gasp out.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Sukuna,” you replied, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

With a swift motion, he released your sore jaw, and before you could even consider easing the ache, his lips crashed against yours.

In that moment, control slipped from your grasp entirely. His hands gripped the flesh of your buttocks possessively, guiding your movements as he claimed you with a primal savageness that left you shaking in his embrace.

“Does it pain you, my beloved?” Sukuna growled, his fingers curling around your nape possessively. “Do you feel the strain of my cock as I breach your tender walls?”

You whimpered softly, your head nodding against the curve of his neck.

“Fear not, my darling. I will diligently train this cunt of yours to accommodate every inch of me, dusk, dawn, and twilight. Your throat, too, shall be honed to fulfil my every whim, wherever and whenever I demand.” With a swift motion, he tugged your hair, forcing you to meet his glare. “And should you dare to entertain thoughts of defiance with any other man beyond the confines of my chamber, rest assured, there will be consequences.”

“Sukuna,” was all you gasped, eyes rolling back as his tip probed the depths of your womb. His tongue traced the delicate curve of your throat before shoving into your mouth, drawing out your own to suckle on. In the heat of the moment, your hands roamed aimlessly, torn between grasping at his waist, clutching his shoulders, or caressing his cheeks.

“Oh, how I love the sight of your breasts greeting me in my face.” Sukuna tightened his hold on each of them with a deadly grasp, savouring the melodious cry that escaped your lips. He lowered his head and teethed each nipple, drawing it out and relishing in the masochism of your sharp nails clawing down his back. “Deeper, my darling. You alone hold the privilege of marking my flesh. Let my scars mirror yours.”

With caution, you shifted your hands to rest upon his firm pectoral muscles before you could accidentally claw out his spinal cord.

Sukuna’s touch drifted from your bruised breasts to cradle your face, guiding your gaze to meet his crimson one.

Encouraged by his comforting presence, you arched your hips forward with newfound confidence. His fingers swept through your hair, pushing it away as he offered reassuring nods.

Now, the reins rested firmly within your grasp.

“Fuck . . .” Leaning back against the headboard, he released soft sighs. Warm breaths escaped his parted lips as you continued increasing your ministrations. Your gaze momentarily flickered to your favourite book resting on his bedside table before returning to his face.

Suddenly seized by an impulse, you leaned forward to plant a tender kiss upon his lips, trailing upward to gently brush against his cheekbones, tracing the intricate markings lining his skin.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Someone must play the role of the tender one between us, Sukuna,” you answered, mirroring the attention he had given your scars during your initial encounter. With each kiss, you felt his eyes tracing your movements, following the path of your lips as they journeyed across his face, landing upon his nose or the pulse of his neck.

“My beloved,” Sukuna’s voice caressed your ears, drawing your focus entirely to him, “listen closely to my words.”

You halted your movements, a curious expression dancing in your eyes. “What troubles you?”

With a deliberate motion, he guided your hips forward, his gaze unwavering. “Throughout the night, I will fill your womb ceaselessly, and in mere weeks, you shall carry my legacy within you.” Your heart leaped into your throat, fluttering with an overwhelming rush of emotion. “Peril will shadow your every step. Those who oppose us will stop at nothing to eliminate your life and the life of our child. Do you comprehend the gravity of our situation?”

You blinked back the tears, resigning yourself to the inevitable.

“But I vow upon my honour, such an atrocity shall never come to pass. I will sever entire bloodlines if even a single strand of your precious hair were harmed.” His movements quickened as he thrusted into you.

Your grip tightened on his shoulders again, gasping for breath between erratic pants.

“At dawn’s light, all concubines shall be reassigned to palace duties. You need only point out those who have dared to trouble you, though their transgressions are already known to me.” His motions became more intense as he pressed you onto your back, pinning your arms above your head. “And when the sun graces the horizon, you, my beloved, shall be proclaimed as my queen.”

Your voice wailed through the chamber as you cried out his name, drowning in the waves of scorching pleasure never before experienced.

Instead of seeing celestial bodies colliding, your gaze met the deep crimson of his irises, those same eyes that had captivated you on that very first night.

“Sukuna . . . ”

With a smile mirroring his own, you tilted your head upward, silently beckoning him to seal the moment with a kiss. As he obliged, his cock pulsed within you, filling you with his warmth until every fibre of your being was tethered with his.

But he didn’t withdraw. Just as he had promised, he intended to keep you close throughout the night, to claim you as his own.

And in that moment, as you laid with him, you welcomed the dawn of a new chapter standing beside him, prepared to reign as Sukuna Ryomen’s queen.

[ilycosy]

giving luke head for the first time

“sorry i’ve never done this before” while he’s a moaning mess trying not to cum too quick 🫣

oo anon u absolutely cooked w this one ,,,, luke wld sooo b trying to last longer than he actually can as soonnn as u put ur mouth on him

luke my fav whiny boy <33

luke could feel everything before you even put your mouth on him, from the heat of your fingertips to the warm sensation of your lips against his stomach. his hands had gripped onto the bed under him, his teeth digging into the flesh of his lips to muffle any noise that might slip out.

his breath hitched before he released a shudder when he felt your hands sliding down his pants, taking his boxers and pants only down to his knees due to excitement— neither of you knew who was more excited at this point, him or you.

you pressed a soft kiss to his hip that had him huffing, whispering softly, "ive never done this before." he could've sworn that you were lying though with how seductive you looked up at him, as if you two weren't both eager teens exploring for the first time.

"s' okay," he whispered back, his hand coming to rest on the side of your face, gently rubbing your cheek with his thumb. "just take your time."

he felt almost instant regret when you smiled and licked a long stripe up him, from base to tip. he could've sworn that he could feel the stars— all his senses instantly heightened as he fought back the urge to buck his hips up into your mouth.

the urge got harder to control as time went on (it felt like hours to him, though it was only a couple minutes.) his once breathy pants turned into whines as his hips had to be held down, he only felt a little sorry about the couple times he made you gag.

his hips jutted out against your hands multiple times, progressively getting faster as he threw his head back— unable to keep eye contact now as the knot in his stomach begins unraveling. his whines becoming too loud that now he has to cover his mouth so people don't come looking for the source of noise.

you barely had a warning besides the curse to the gods and a sharp tug on your hair trying to pull you away, which you didn't. he whimpered against his hand and hid his face as he came, too embarrassed to see your face since he came with no warning.

"c'mon baby," you mumbled, running your hands up his thighs. your voice is rough from the abuse and you sound like you need to clear your throat, but he perks up nonetheless. "let'm see your face?"

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

pretty fixation, wicked temptation | b. blake

masterlist

summary: season six - one-hundred-and-twenty-five years in cryosleep made both you and bellamy crave each other’s touch, but you need a place to satisfy your urges without disruption. perhaps a new planet would do the trick. and what better way to heighten the anticipation than with a little challenge?

warnings: porn with plot, sexual crying??, teasing/taunting, mild gore, mild exhibitionism, murphy being a cockblock, mild size kink, mild bdsm, begging

note: this is the first one-shot/smut I’ve ever written so I kinda went overboard, but I promise it’s worth it in the end. you can imagine a different season of bellamy if you want (fuck you) but I personally think he’s extremely hot in season 6.

word count: 16.7k

“…I hope your lives there will be as happy as mine has been,” an aged Monty spoke on the monitor. “Be the good guys. May we meet again.”

You stared out the window of Eligius IV in awe, arms crossed over your chest whilst taking in the view of the planet you would soon call home. Plant Alpha. A place where, hopefully, everyone could find redemption. For you, it would be a place where you would find peace with your friends and family. And your boyfriend, Bellamy Blake.

“I know this is a lot to process,” Bellamy’s deep voice spoke to the group. “Take an hour, and then meet in the mess. We need to game this out.”

A few people in the room had a short dispute, but you tuned out their bickering, gaze locked on the view outside. Everyone began to disperse, leaving the room to gather their thoughts about what the future held for the last remnants of humanity. Everyone but you and Bellamy.

Your vision shifted from focusing on Planet Alpha to watching Bellamy walk towards you in the window’s reflection. He had changed drastically since the day you and the other Ark prisoners were sent to the ground. His body was broader, and more muscular due to the unrelenting battles he fought on Earth. His arms were bigger, stronger, and probably capable of carrying the weight of two people at once. And his hands, god, his hands—they were your ultimate weakness. They were much bigger compared to your own; his fingers were thicker and longer as well, and the things he could do with them… indescribable.

He now had a short, dark beard that circled his mouth and sparsely covered the sides of his jaw. You always loved the way it tickled your face whenever he kissed you and when it rubbed against your inner thighs whilst he went down on you.

What had changed the most was his mentality, which somehow made you fall even deeper in love with him. Bellamy Blake may have been twenty-three when you first met him, but he was then still just a boy. Now, he was a man.

“You okay?” he asked, his arm snaking around your waist as his towering frame stood beside you.

Leaning into his body, you both soaked in the rays of the two suns shining through the ship’s window.

“Just hoping we don’t make the same mistakes we did back on Earth,” you spoke. “There are a lot of people on this ship in need of a second chance.”

Bellamy chuckled. “Yeah. More like a fifth chance.”

You smiled, humming in agreement.

“This time will be different,” he continued, eyes narrowed at the planet in front of them. “We can’t keep making the same mistakes without learning from them. We won’t have bombs, or missiles, or war. I’ll make sure of it; if not for the last of humanity, then for you.”

You turned your head to look at him. Such a softie.

“I ever tell you how much I love you?” You reached one of your crossed arms across your torso and rested it on his which was cupping your waist.

In response, Bellamy’s hold tightened just a little bit more, causing your heart to fumble from the affectionate gesture. “On a few occasions.”

However short the one-hundred-and-twenty-five years in cryosleep felt to your mind, your body could feel the effects of lacking physical touch for such a long time. Bellamy’s touch. Apparently, he felt the exact same way.

“I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in over a century.” His voice became soft. He turned your body to face him with his back now facing the window. Dark brown eyes gazed down at you with an intensity only he could create, sending a sudden desire to let him absolutely ravage you right where you stood. His free hand reached up to your face and gently stroked the side of your cheek, the other now caressing the exposed skin of your waist. “Or touched you.”

Closing your eyes, you focused on the areas in which his skin connected with yours. Having been in a relationship with him for a few years, his touch became a familiar sensation. Despite that, on a purely physical level, your body had forgotten the pleasure-filled heights to which he could take you. Everything seemed new again, like the very first time he touched you.

And no matter the fact that time in cryosleep seemed like it passed instantaneously, neither of you could deny the obvious pining your bodies felt for one another.

You stepped closer, hands moving to rest on his chest. The distance between your bodies closed and you whispered, “Or felt me.”

His hands stilled, realising what you had meant. He leaned backwards, enough to get a good view of the look in your eyes. It was something deep and hungry for release. Sure, you’ve both had sex plenty of times; you’ve fucked rough and fast, made love sweet and slow—however many other variations there were, you’d done it—but Bellamy had never seen your desire for him appear as powerful as this.

Your eyes were swirling with a dark passion, like rolling waves in desperate need of a crest. Your cheeks were flushed, pupils so dilated your irises were almost obscured, and lips reddened and becoming plump even despite having made no contact with his own yet. It was no doubt a mirror of what you were feeling inside.

He took in a long deep breath, eyebrows furrowed as he took in your appearance, trying to steady his heartbeat which was raging out of control. You looked so beautiful. All the blood in his body drained to the lower half of him, leaving him light-headed and fuzzy, lust being the only thing to fill the contents of his mind. Bellamy could never stop lusting after you, he had just learned to control it. A one-hundred-year wait seemed like a perfectly acceptable reason to let loose a little.

“Fuck,” was all he said before his lips came crashing down onto yours.

It didn’t start slow, but rather fast and desperate. So desperate. Even so, your mouth moved in sync with his, alternating between sucking in quick breaths of air, kissing his soft yet rough lips, and allowing him to run his tongue over your own. Your hands moved up into his pushed-back hair, fingers delving between his brown waves to give a small tug, pulling a groan from inside him that buzzed against your lips.

He pulled you closer to his body with strong arms wrapped around your back, the sensitivity between your thighs coming into contact with his hardness. The material of your pants rubbing against you only enhanced the shiver-inducing sensation.

You reigned your focus back onto his lips. His mouth was hot against yours, unrelenting, catching your lips with his between each frantic breath of air. His tongue rolled over your own, so intricate and possessive as it pushed into your mouth.

Before you knew it, his hands had moved to the backs of your thighs and lifted you into his arms; your lips never disconnected. This was a movement you had both performed many times, so it wasn’t done without skill. He took a few steps forward before placing you on the control bench behind you. You hoped there were no important buttons beneath you that would cause End of Humanity 4.0.

His mouth moved from yours and down to your jaw, cupping his hand on the side of your neck to keep your head steady. You couldn’t tell if it was a moan or a sigh that escaped you. Maybe it was a mix of both, but whatever it was, it egged him on further. He had moved down to your neck, sucking and nipping at the soft, delicate skin. This time you were sure it was a moan you let out.

He curled his hand around your neck just below your jaw, careful not to apply too much pressure, but just enough to remain in control. He loved to be in control; he also knew how much you enjoyed it too. You loved how small he made you feel compared to him, how he could dominate you without an ounce of effort.

Your legs and his were in between one another like two puzzle pieces fit together, his knee between your thighs and pressing against your clit without him even realising it. Grabbing onto his shoulders for support, you pushed yourself further onto his knee, beginning to grind yourself against him as he continued to press kisses to your neck.

“Eager, huh?” his voice vibrated against your skin.

Now he knew.

Having realised what you were doing, he pushed further onto you, heightening the pressure as you rolled your hips against him. Your head fell back. It had been so long since your body had experienced such pleasure; you knew it wouldn’t take much to reach climax. Not that it mattered. It always took you both a few rounds before you were too exhausted to move anymore. Sometimes, even fatigue couldn’t stop you two.

After deciding enough damage was done to your neck, he returned to your mouth, this time slower and more sensual.

You could have easily come undone the way you were going, grinding yourself against him but knew it would be nothing compared to the release given by his hands. Greedy as you were, you wanted—needed—more, and you knew he would never deny such a request. Your satisfaction was his own after all.

“Bellamy,” you breathed against his lips. “Touch me.”

His forehead came to rest against your own, he too breathless from the heat of the situation.

“Didn’t know you were into exhibitionism, princess,” he spoke lowly with a smirk.

“Who said I was?”

“Well, technically, we have a whole world watching us.”

You rolled your eyes, a playful grin stretching across your lips only to be intersected by a short gasp as you felt his hand slip through the waistband of your pants and press against your clit.

The second you felt his fingers apply pressure and begin to move, the door to the room burst open.

“Hey, you guys need… Jesus Christ!”

Bellamy’s hand left you quicker than it came, or quicker than you came to be more exact. The both of you jumped up from your positions and turned to see Murphy standing at the door, eyes squeezed shut.

“You ever heard of knocking, Murphy,” Bellamy grumbled.

“It’s the fucking comms room!” he complained. “Just–we need you guys out in the mess hall. Now. Oh my god.”

He made quick work of leaving the room, mumbling something about rather having a missile dropped on him than ever having to witness that again.

You looked at Bellamy who seemed to share the same flustered state as you.

He blew out a stabilising breath and placed a hand behind your back. “Come on, we should see what they want.”

Still slightly trembling, you nodded, allowing him to guide the both of you out of the room as you attempted to fix your dishevelled hair. After walking together down a few hallways in tense silence, you both reached the mess hall to see the group sitting around a table, discussing something quietly among themselves. Among them was Murphy, who overdramatically shuddered at the sight of you two.

Before you could walk over, Bellamy grabbed your upper arm, leaning down until his hair brushed against your temple and he whispered, “I’m not done with you.”

He slid past you and walked towards everyone else, acting casual as they all burst into conversation. A minute or two passed until you had regained enough composure to join the group.

**********

It had been about two hours since the incident in the comms room. A plan had been set in place regarding their journey to the ground. One minute, you were safe and sound on Eligius IV, and the next, you and a small group were descending into the atmosphere of Planet Alpha in a ship.

There was a giant, wall-length window on the front of the ship that revealed the outside surroundings once you dipped below the clouds. This world was… otherworldly. Literally. The largest sun bathed the world in a constant orange glow, and the surface was covered in an abundance of vibrant green trees that sat atop various hills and rocky snow-covered mountains. All the clouds were a light orange; the sky was more pink and orange than blue. It was like they had entered a landscape painting depicting heaven.

Everyone seemed to share the same look of astonishment.

Shaw turned in his seat to face everyone. “Boys and girls, meet Planet Alpha.”

With a shudder, the ship finally planted itself on the ground, the machine hum cutting off as the rockets stopped firing. Belt buckles clicked as everybody stood from their seats, moving in front of the door, awaiting its opening. You looked beside you to see Bellamy with that same tiny grin he had the first time they opened the dropship doors. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. Technically, it was well over a lifetime ago.

He pulled down the lever and the door began to fall open. A gust of breathable fresh air wafted in your face and you inhaled deeply. It was sweet and unpolluted. Everyone remained still as they took in the incredible scenery. There were no words to describe it.

“Anyone got anything better than ‘we’re back bitches’?” Miller jested.

“Yeah,” you spoke. “Let’s not bite the apple this time.”

There were a few chuckles, a few sentimental words exchanged, along with a few heated words spoken between Shaw and Clarke. Some people were still upset over her betrayal back on Earth. What they were yet to realise was that this was not Earth, this was someplace new, a place for second chances and new beginnings.

They were supposed to be looking for a beacon that depicted a safe place for them to take up residence. Shaw, along with his tracking device, began heading in the beacon’s direction and soon enough everyone else followed suit.

You took a few moments for yourself to take in the surroundings and silently thank Monty and Harper for their sacrifice. A bittersweet smile sat on your lips and a single tear slipped down your cheek. A Garden of Eden this was, and they’d be damned if they let another serpent in.

Without even realising it, Bellamy had stood beside you, his arm wrapping around your shoulder before pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head.

“We’ll do better this time,” he reassured as if he could read your mind.

You turned your head and pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder.

His eyes crinkled as a soft smile grew on his lips. “Come on, let's catch up to the others.”

And so, you did.

Following Bellamy until you caught up with the rest of the group, you began the journey to the beacon, trekking through the new and undisturbed forest. Though it was beautiful, you still had a lingering fear of what might lurking in the thick clusters of trees. Maybe there were Grounders here too. At least they were human beings with actual consciences. This was an entirely new planet in an entirely new solar system so there could be animals or beings they had never encountered before.

All you could do was pray you weren’t on the bottom of the food chain.

An hour or two passed before the forest began to thin out and give way to a lake of pristine blue water surrounded by overlooking mountains.

“Looks like we found a water source,” Bellamy spoke as they stepped onto the tan sand. “We’ll camp here tonight and continue on at first light.”

They were confronted wave after wave with the planet’s beauty without end. It almost seemed too perfect. As everyone was distracted by the new view, Murphy began walking towards the water, removing a piece of clothing with each step, completely disregarding the fact that he had healing bullet holes on his body.

You stepped forward to stop him just as the others did. “Murphy, wait, your­–”

He glanced back at you, cutting your sentence off. “Comms room!”

That shut you up, as well as causing your face to redden intensely.

Clarke stepped beside you, watching as Murphy took off his shirt and stepped into the water, diving beneath the surface. “What was that about?”

“Uh, nothing.” You side-eyed Bellamy who was shifting his weight, clearly uncomfortable.

Soon enough, Murphy had resurfaced, his wounds bleeding and turning the water around him a faint rust colour. Not that he cared.

“Come on in, the water’s fine!” he shouted.

Emori was next to enter the water, though not entirely at her own will. It was nice to see her and Murphy enjoying themselves, but who said they could have all the fun?

Without a second thought, you unclipped your backpack and dropped it to the ground, tying your hair into a low bun with the band on your wrist. You lifted your long-sleeve shirt over your head, leaving you only in your low-cut tank top. You had thought it would have been Bellamy who was first to notice, except it was Clarke whose eyes were now trained on your chest.

Brows raised, you motioned to your eyes with two fingers. “Eyes up here, Clarke.”

She cleared her throat and mumbled an apology, focusing back on Emori and Murphy.

You walked over to Bellamy, standing beside him as he watched the scene in front of him. His attention quickly shifted to you as your hip brushed against his hand.

“What d’you say, Blake?” You unbuttoned your jeans, pushing them down to your ankles and stepping out. “Up for a swim?”

His lips parted as he stared down at your half-naked figure. Before he had a chance to answer, you were making your way down to the water with a tantalising grin. You were nothing if not a tease and he knew that firsthand. A little extra sway in your hips was all it took for him to start removing his own backpack and undressing his upper body.

The water had reached up to your hips before a pair of hands abruptly grabbed onto your waist. A short shriek escaped your throat before you were tackled beneath the water. Resurfacing, you wiped the water from your eyes, coming face-to-face with an amused Bellamy.

“Asshole!” You attempted to push his chest, but he didn’t budge, instead, he wrapped his arms around your waist again and began dragging you both further out.

“So easily riled up,” he teased with a smirk.

Sighing defeatedly, you leaned into his grasp, allowing him to keep you both afloat. Bellamy could just touch the lake floor, so you knew if he let you go, you would be drowning. Swimming wasn’t exactly anyone’s strong suit, so you just hoped you hadn’t done anything previously to piss him off.

Your legs curled around his torso. At first, the action was innocent, but then you realised that the little performance you made on the beach had consequences. Hard consequences that he seemed to be very aware of. Eyes blown wide with surprise, you squeezed your legs around his hips, grounding yourself onto him.

He grunted softly, tightening his hold on you. “You do that again and I won’t care if everyone is watching.”

The deep sense of possession enveloped in his voice sent warm tingles running down your spine, replacing the coldness of the water surrounding your body. Knowing him, he probably wasn’t lying either, especially given both of your rising desires for each other. For a split second, you were ready to test the legitimacy of his threat, but rationality was quick to jump in.

As you loosened your hold around him, you were unsure whether the look he gave you was of praise or displeasure. If you couldn’t do that, then you would at least take advantage of the opportunity for another type of intimacy.

Placing a hand on either side of his jaw, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his which he was quick to reciprocate. Droplets of fresh water dripped from the wet strands across his forehead, mixing between your skin and his, and alleviating the heat of each other’s desire.

His hands ran up and down your back underneath your saturated tank top, leaving a trail of warmth in his wake. Over and over, you kissed him and then you’d take a split second to get some air. It quickly became a pattern yet each time your lips met became more and more exhilarating.

The moment was rapidly becoming more fervent with each passing second. Soon enough, you were clinging onto each other, the water rippling from your bodies moving ever-so-slightly against one another to create some kind of friction. You could hear Bellamy’s breathing become quick and uneven, just like your own. You could feel his tongue glide across your bottom lip as if to knock before entering. And just before you could let him in, you were pulled apart…

“Hey. Hey! None of that shit,” Murphy demanded from a distance.

Bellamy pulled away first, visibly frustrated as he turned his head to your interrupter.

You simply pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned, one hand still holding onto his shoulder.

“Shut up, Murphy!” you and Bellamy shouted in unison.

Even Emori was quick to come to your aid. “Come on, John, they were just kissing.”

“You haven’t seen the things I’ve seen,” you heard him murmur to her.

**********

The sky was blanketed in darkness long after the two suns dipped below the horizon. Insects were chirping, a small fire was crackling in the centre of the group, and tiny waves were cresting on the shore. You were leaning against a log of driftwood, legs extended in front of you as you gazed at the giant, ringed planet in the sky, its purple and pink hue reflecting on the lake’s surface.

Peace. Or so it would have been if not for the chaos running rampant in your mind.

Bellamy’s lips. Bellamy’s hands. Bellamy’s fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut. Bellamy, Bellamy, Bellamy–

A loud pop from the fire sounded which startled you from your thoughts.

Opening your eyes, you looked around the camp. Everybody else seemed to be in their own little worlds too, unable to shake the incredulity of knowing they were now on an alien planet. Clarke was on her back, gazing up at the foreign sky above; Jackson was enthusing about the unfamiliar wildlife. Echo simply admired the tall mountains that encompassed the lake, an expression of gratitude reflecting on her face. You would feel the same way too if your hormones weren’t raging like that of a teenage boy’s.

To add fuel to the fire—quite literally—Bellamy was bent over the flames, cyan blue sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and feeding more wood to the blaze. His dark curls were pushed back from his face apart from a few stray strands. His skin was shining from the humidity, sending your mind spiralling into a visualisation of the times he was on top of you, all sweaty and hitting that eye-rolling spot inside of you over and over.

You sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. This was ridiculous; he was your boyfriend and yet every time he was near, your body responded to him like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Something on your mind?”

He had sat down beside you, your shoulders now pushed up against one another.

More like ‘someone’, you thought.

“Nope.” You crossed your legs over one another, thighs squeezing together in the hopes of providing some kind of relief. You couldn’t even bear to look at him, afraid that your willpower would come crumbling to ruins. “No thoughts up here.”

Bellamy eyed your visibly flustered state, one cocky eyebrow raised.

His hand moved onto your leg. “Liar. I know your tells. And this,” he murmured whilst squeezing the inner plush of your thigh, “is one of them.”

Finally, your gaze met his, almost like you were in a standoff. He knew how much you were suffering. Mostly because he was too.

“Bellamy,” you warned.

He turned back to the fire, slowly kneading your inner thigh. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Uh oh.”

The flickering flames reflecting in his dark brown irises turned them a blazing orange but did nothing to alleviate the darkness that was sitting just behind his eyes. Taunting him probably wasn’t the brightest idea at that moment.

Then again, it also held the potential to be a fantastic idea. You knew how he got when pushed to his limits.

“Seems like we can’t go five minutes without being interrupted,” he began, curling his hand around your thigh. “So, I figured we may as well turn it into a challenge.”

“A challenge?” you asked, moving your hand on top of his and taking control.

He nodded.

Slowly, you began to guide his hand further up your thigh, inch by inch. As expected, he showed no resistance. You could even see the imprint on the front of his pants which were now tight for the third time that day. “And what exactly does this challenge involve?”

As you got closer to the destination you craved most, your movements became slower, and more delayed, contrasting to the increasing pace of your chest rising and falling. Your shoulders pushed back against the driftwood, your body reclining just a tiny bit further as you stared up at him, lips parted.

Bellamy watched his hand travel beneath your own, completely transfixed. “We, uh, see who can last longer without…” he trailed off as your thighs clamped tighter around him.

The side of his hand brushed against your clit through the material of your pants and your breath hitched. Thank god everyone else was too distracted to notice the situation unfolding before them. The fire was probably doing you both some favours as well.

“Without…?” you coaxed him on.

You pressed him firmer against you, rolling your hips in small circles to create the sensation you’d been longing for. He didn’t move, only allowing you to use him for your own pleasure. The muscles in your stomach flexed as tingles quickly spread across the lower half of your body, from your toes to beneath Bellamy’s hand. You’d give anything to let him give you your release then and there, but you knew an audience wasn’t exactly favourable.

That didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the build-up.

God, Bellamy was right. You really were into exhibitionism.

By the way his brows were pulled together and his eyes looked almost pained, you swore he was about to come undone just at the sight of you.

He clenched his jaw and managed to ground out, “Without touching each other.”

Your eyes flickered between his, showing no sign of stopping your movements even when he finally managed to get out his explanation. You slightly bucked your hips forward, pulling him in further to which he inhaled sharply. Truth be told, Bellamy was the most stubborn person you had ever met, excluding his sister, Octavia. But there was one thing that could overrule Bellamy’s unwavering resolve, and that was you. Hell, on multiple occasions all you had to do was ask and he would be on his knees, mouth between your thighs in the blink of an eye, so he should have known the minute he announced his little game, you had already won.

“Okay,” you whispered with an innocent smile.

Within seconds, you had shot up onto your feet, now hovering over him.

Instinctively, he too moved into a standing position as if under threat. He stood so close that your torso was nearly touching his.

“What are you doing?” He leaned in close, voice low to prevent attracting any attention from the others.

“Um, winning?”

He scoffed. “Yeah, right. I’ve gone over a century without you; I can last a little longer.”

You took one step closer until you were flush against him. How could you not? It’s not like he’d expect you to make it easy on him.

“Only a little? Oh, come on Blake, have a bit of faith in yourself. You can last longer than that.” You looked him up and down. “I would know.”

He peered down at you, eyes half-lidded, and hummed a chuckle, one that was meant to say, ‘You are in way over your head, princess’. Maybe you were or maybe he was. What you both knew for sure was how the game was going to end, and despite your determination to win, that moment couldn’t come soon enough.

His body left yours and he backed away, a smug smirk resting on his face. He retreated over to Murphy and Emori, sitting on the log beside them and began engaging in their conversation.

You turned to face the fire, letting out a shaky breath you were hoping he couldn’t hear. It had become quiet now, the surrounding area seemed different compared to just a few minutes prior, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. The small waves were still rolling onto the shore; the campfire was still crackling.

Something was missing.

You scanned the area for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing.

“Ow!”

Your eyes snapped to the sudden voice. Clarke was sitting on a plank of wood, rubbing the back of her neck with her brows furrowed together.

Walking over, you sat on a log adjacent to her. “What happened?”

“Oh, just got bit by a bug.” She gestured to the dead insect lying on the wood beside her.

It had big, round eyes, and wings like a fly. Wouldn’t have been a cause for concern if it weren’t the size of your palm and had a tail like a scorpion.

“Some bug.”

That’s when you realised—all the insects had stopped chirping.

Almost on command, Jackson and Miller stumbled over to the campfire, gaining everyone’s attention as Jackson rambled on about how he had captured the same bug in a glass jar and its behaviour had randomly become erratic. People began rising from their seats and crowding to watch the insect smash itself against the glass. Clarke and you shared a concerned look.

The air, which once was silent and peaceful, began to buzz like you were all surrounded by a cluster of beehives. Reality was much worse.

“What the hell is that?” Emori spoke.

As if to answer her question, the sky suddenly filled with hundreds, no, thousands of winged insects, which seemed to follow each other in groups that formed large patterns in the air. You were willing to bet your life on them being the same as the one that bit Clarke. Great—man-eating bugs.

“Swarm.”

“Everybody cover up! We’re heading to the beacon now!” Bellamy commanded.

You snatched your backpack from the ground, pulling out a black cotton scarf before slinging the bag straps over your shoulders. Not long passed before the others did the same and you were all running for your lives through the dense thicket of trees. Branches snagged on your clothes, shredding them to bits as you struggled not to run face-first into a tree. You wouldn’t be the first to do it, though…. Murphy.

Your breathing was becoming irregular as your body pushed to its limits. As awful as it sounded, when Emori tripped over a fallen branch and the group had to stop and help her, you praised the lord. Everyone huddled together, the bugs now surrounding the group, flying past and leaving bite marks on your bodies. Luckily, Clarke had the idea to light a flare.

“They hate fire! Light the flares!” she shouted.

Someone came running toward you from where Emori had tripped, placing a hand on each of your upper arms. Upon seeing their eyes, you knew it was Bellamy. He wordlessly scanned your features for any wounds, his gaze a mixture of concentration and worry. You nodded as if to tell him you were alright, and he did the same.

After the ten seconds you were provided to catch your breath passed, you were on the move again, the flares now protecting the group from the swarm. The trees were becoming less and less, and the ground under your feet had turned into a wide gravel path that ended at a large field of crops surrounded by metal rod towers.

You continued running forward, following the others as the field grew closer. In front was Shaw, who was multi-tasking between tracking the beacon on his device and leading the group to safety.

“Here! The beacon’s here!” he shouted.

Just as he passed through the towers that bordered the crop field, a bolt of what looked like lightning struck him. He was sent flying back into the group with a yell, landing at your feet.

“Shaw!” You crouched down, observing the minor burns that were littered across his cheeks and forehead.

He groaned, pulling himself back onto his feet with your assistance. “I’m alright.”

Jackson rushed to his side, immediately pulling out his med pack and assessing his wounds. The damage wasn’t lethal but if they couldn’t find a way to get through to the other side, they would have more to be worried about than burnt flesh.

Clarke was already searching for an answer to their escape and once again, she found it.

“It’s radiation.” She looked around as the bugs began to circle them, blocking their long-distance view. “We need to get through. It won’t affect me.”

Before anyone could stop her, she was running through the shield-like fence.

“Clarke, wait!”

“Get back here!”

To everyone’s surprise, she made it out the other side without a scratch. But how was everyone else supposed to get through without Nightblood?

You felt a warm hand slip into your own, offering a small amount of comfort. You didn’t need to look to know whose it belonged.

“Clarke, the tower—its Eligius tech. You need the failsafe code to turn off the shield!” Shaw yelled out. “Four-seven-eight-one-five!”

Exhaling a sigh of relief, you squeezed Bellamy’s hand. There’s a failsafe code.

Clarke rushed to one of the metal towers, opened the control panel and punched in the code. The energy sources atop each tower dissipated, signalling the shield's termination.

“It’s down! Come on!”

Murphy was the first to pass through, dragging Emori behind him. Copying his actions, Bellamy tugged you forward, the both of you passing through the towers together. Once everyone made it through, Clarke powered up the defence again, causing the swarm of insects to disintegrate upon meeting the shield’s radiation bolts.

No one said a word. Instead, they used the time to catch their breaths, some laying on the ground and others dropping to their knees. You tugged the covering off your head and placed your hands on your thighs for support. Multiple strands of hair fell around your face as you bent over, trying to replace the air your lungs lost, a few strings of curses spilling out in between.

Bellamy, who was so inconceivably fit that his breathing was already slow and even, placed a hand on your shoulder. “You okay?”

Lifting a shaky arm from your leg, you gave him the thumbs up.

He tenderly massaged your shoulder and scanned the group to make sure everyone else was alright.

“What the hell was that?” Echo huffed.

**********

Night cycles on Planet Alpha operated very differently compared to Earth—darkness held the sky for a good five hours before the two suns rose again, much unlike the twelve hours everyone was accustomed to back on Earth. That and this planet sent man-eating swarms of insects whenever night fell. Or so you assumed.

The suns peaked through the distant treetops; orange beams of light were spread across the fields you had walked. A few hours had gone by since you first stepped through the radiation shields. A few hours of walking got you and the others atop a small mountain that seemed to be centred within the large circle of towers, providing a good bird's eye view of the fields of crops below.

You continued trekking up the well-trodden path on the hill, Bellamy and Clarke on either side of you. The last time you interacted with Bellamy was when you entered the protected area, but since then, you had avoided eye contact, physical touch, and conversation. You knew yourself; one wrong move and you would lose his game. Despite almost being eaten alive, you were still determined to stick to the rules, and even though innocent affection and conversation were allowed, you didn’t want to risk it.

Plus, total avoidance would only make him crave you more—the basic rule of men, unfortunately.

Emori walked a few steps in front of the group, her movements quickening as they reached a rounded corner. “Guys, look. Stairs.”

Orange-brick stairs came into view and you watched as Emori began ascending them, everyone else following behind her. You climbed up the stairs, Bellamy ahead of you by a step or two. Not for long though. Your pace increased until you were shoulder-to-shoulder, but only for a split second before you placed a hand on his bicep, dragging your palm across as you moved a few steps ahead of him. You could hear his breath hitch and a small smirk teased the corner of your lips. Now he was the one behind you—how he usually liked it.

If you weren’t going to interact with him, the least you could do was give him a good view.

Once you reached the top of the stairs, everyone stood side-by-side, taking in the view in front of them. It was incredible. It was like all the beauty on that planet had been condensed, thrown into a single area and turned into a village. That was what it was—a village. Plus, a castle?

“They have a castle,” Murphy said in wonder.

It looked like something from medieval times crossed with The Hobbit. The windows were circular and made of multi-coloured glass panes. The structure was made of bricks and rounded towers with various intricate patterns decorating different areas, and two round staircases curving up to a second-level balcony. It was so striking it had to have belonged to some divine being because no one else could have deserved such a beautiful palace. Well, there was one exception.

You glanced at Bellamy whose face was lit up with the brightest grin you had ever seen as he too let the beauty sink in. Your heart skipped a beat and you had to turn away. So, you turned to Murphy.

“Perfect for you, Murphy,” you jested. “King of the cockroaches.”

“Careful. Roaches bite, you know,” he retorted

You raised your hands in faux fear.

Clarke stepped forward. “Come on. Let’s see if anyone’s home.”

Most of the buildings looked modern and were made of glass and coloured wood or shipping containers, surrounded and covered by different types of flora. Flowers were not in short supply there, that was for sure; every garden held a new and exotic type. Even the pond in the middle of the village had flowers in it. There were coloured banners everywhere as well—some that hung from each building, and some that were standalone's. The suns’ light just made everything seem so much more vibrant and enchanting.

You and the others were going door-to-door, knocking on each one to see if anyone was there. So far, you had no luck, if that’s even what it was. Almost every home had been checked, but there was no one. The last house to be checked came by and apparently Murphy ran out of patience for simple pleasantries. He kicked the front doors open.

“Well, look at that.” He turned to the group. “This one’s unlocked.”

He stepped inside and began rummaging through the owner’s belongings, not that it surprised anyone very much. You watched as he bent over and picked up something that looked like a neck cuff connected to chains on a wall.

“Hm. Kinky.” He turned back to the group with a devious grin on his face. His eyes flickered between you and Bellamy. “Any takers?”

He gestured between the two of you with the chains as if he were offering them. Oh, you were so tempted to pull a knife on him.

Your eyes went wide, and Bellamy almost choked on his own breath. All eyes were now on you and him.

You took off in the opposite direction before anyone could say a word. “I’m–I’m gonna find a change of clothes.”

It was a perfectly reasonable excuse to leave anyway. Your clothes were practically threadbare from the rough escape through the forest. Thankfully, you could hear the group begin talking about something completely unrelated before you were out of hearing distance. You weren’t sure where you were headed in particular. Anywhere that wasn’t near Murphy or Bellamy would suffice.

You didn’t want to be apart from Bellamy at all. Quite the opposite. You wanted him. You wanted his hands to roam all over your body, to feel his arms tight around your waist as he thrust deep inside you from beneath, and to have his name dripping from your tongue as he made it impossible for you to distinguish the meaning between the words ‘love’ and ‘lust’.

(If only you knew that he was suffering the exact same way.)

However, his ego was much too inflated for you to let him win. It was a sacrifice for the greater good. The greater good being not having to constantly listen to him tease you for losing in the future. But as time went on and your body started physically reacting to the separation, losing started to seem like not such a terrible idea. You were conflicted. Give in, or push on? The decision was painfully frustrating and also just downright painful.

While amidst your thoughts, your feet had carried you to the opposite side of the village until you were standing outside a dark red-wooded house. Covering the poles that held up the structure’s second story were apple blossoms. “Let’s not bite the apple this time.” That was the first thing you had said after stepping onto the ground—a reference to the story of Adam and Eve. Now here you were, contemplating handing yourself over to desire. A literal bite of the apple.

You shook your head, pulling down the door handle to the red house and it opened. Locks didn’t exist in this place it seemed. Stepping inside, you noticed several cardboard boxes on the ground both opened and unopened. There was furnishing such as couches, bookcases, a round glass dining table, and leather seats, but they were all scattered across the room and half had white sheets covering them. It looked like the owner had just been moving in.

As you assessed the room, you noticed a floor-length mirror attached to one of the walls, so naturally, you moved yourself in front of it. The reflection did not match the person you were before leaving Eligius IV. Your bun wasn’t even a bun anymore; half of it had fallen out whilst the other struggled to stay within the hair band. Your clothes had more holes than you could count and were covered in a thick layer of dirt and insect blood. A grimace fell across your face. Gross.

At your feet was another cardboard box; it was opened with a variety of fabrics spilling out. Crouching down, you pulled out the black material at the top to find that it was a long-sleeve off-the-shoulder shirt. It wasn’t exactly practical, but it beat wearing insect organs. You exchanged your two previous shirts for the black shirt; the material stretched around your curves, clinging to your body like a second skin.

Next was a change of pants. You kicked off your shoes and peeled off your jeans, leaving you only in your black underwear and socks. And so, the search began. A good ten minutes went by and you found nothing but long skirts and dresses. You were not about to walk outside dressed up like some grounder princess. Not now at least. Maybe there were more boxes upstairs?

After locating the staircase to the second story, you began to climb. Just like the first level, there were boxes and furnishings. There was a large thigh-high mattress against the back wall with two glass doors on either side leading to a balcony. The mattress was covered in several different blankets consisting of shades between white and purple with a mountain of matching pillows at the head of the bed. On the wall facing the mattress was another floor-length mirror. These people had a vanity problem.

Much to your displeasure, none of the boxes upstairs contained any pants either, so there you stood in the middle of the room wearing only a tight shirt and underwear. You sighed in frustration, tugging your hair band from the bun and letting your locks cascade over your shoulders and down your back. With nothing else to do, you decided you might as well go outside and see what the others were doing. You stepped out onto the balcony; the house’s architect had the right idea by designing it with a concrete fence that covered your lower half.

The others were still lingering on the other side of the village. You rested your forearms on the balcony fence, watching as Murphy signalled for Shaw and Bellamy’s assistance with pulling a heavy wooden crate from inside one of the houses. Knowing Murphy, it was probably full of stuff he was going to take for himself, which would have explained Bellamy’s reluctant stance. There was also something else that seemed to be troubling him. He looked distracted, almost torn between choices, his eyes occasionally wandering to the opposite side of the village where you had previously walked off to. Nevertheless, he eventually did give in to helping Murphy.

And then suddenly time all around you began to slow down. You were in a trance and it was no one but Bellamy’s fault.

He shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing his tanned and veiny arms beneath. He placed his hands underneath the crate and lifted in time with Murphy and Shaw. Even from such a distance, you could see his muscles tense and flex under the weight, the size of his biceps nearly doubling and bursting through the seams of his shirt. His face carried a strained expression, something you had seen many times before but in very different circumstances.

Your skin flushed with heat, and your bottom lip curled between your teeth as you struggled to keep your breathing under control. Blood was buzzing in your ears; you felt fucking intoxicated. You were aware of how feral your behaviour had become but it was inevitable. In a game like this, it had to be.

Once the crate was outside, he and Murphy placed it on the ground. Bellamy ran a hand through his hair, his gaze already beginning to wander once again. As if he could feel your stare burning straight through him, his eyes found your distant ones up on the balcony. The feeling of a hole being burnt through him was understandable because your eyes were ablaze with sin. That had to have been the tenth time you’d made him hard now and it was becoming painful.

You weren’t embarrassed to be caught staring, instead, you were intrigued as to what his next movements would be. But he made none. He simply stared at you over his shoulder, eyes stern and calculating. Who was going to win wasn’t the question anymore. The question was: How could either of you prepare for what was coming? A century’s worth of abstinence was also a century’s worth of build-up, meaning the release would be messy, and Bellamy wasn’t one to hold back.

Finally, he broke the eye contact, but only for a few seconds. His eyes moved to the building beside him and then back to you as if he were trying to get you to follow his gaze. So, you did. What he had gestured to was another pair of chains and handcuffs connected to a wall. Instinctively, you gasped, feeling a pulse in your stomach which you knew was his exact objective. You looked back at him, seeing the self-satisfied grin plastered on his face before he turned back to the group.

That son of a bitch.

Your back slid down the concrete fence until your ass hit the cold marble floor. He was driving you to sex-crazed insanity and you didn’t know how to fight against it. You needed something. Anything to relieve the torment. But you knew if you started, your hands would never stop, not until they were replaced with his.

Maybe the cuffs weren’t such a bad idea.

“No!” you had to verbally reprimand yourself.

Your head fell in your hands. This was all getting too much for you. One-hundred-and-twenty-five years… and a day! You wouldn’t call yourself a nymphomaniac but holy fuck. It was getting to the point that even his name had you aching, tearing yourself to shreds. You couldn’t take it any longer.

Moving onto your hands and knees, you began crawling—yes, crawling—back inside. You managed to pull yourself up onto the mattress with trembling arms and fell back against the quilt and cushions in the middle of the bed. A shaky breath left your lips. If Bellamy couldn’t be there to take care of you, then you would finish the job yourself.

You slipped a hand beneath the thin fabric covering your heat, fingers racing to meet the spot you needed. Back arching into the bed and stomach tightening—that is what you expected to happen when your fingers began circling your clit, but it was nothing of the sort. All you felt was skin on skin and the slightest of sensations. Even when you pressed harder, and moved faster, there was nothing.

Letting out a quiet, distressed cry, you readjusted your position and switched hands. You began rubbing back and forth, side-to-side, every way that had gotten the job done in the past. You moved one hand under your shirt and began massaging your breast, pinching and grazing your nipple, trying to replicate all the moves Bellamy had pulled on you before.

Still, there was no relief from the ache you felt. You needed to go further. Your hand moved lower, fingers hovering over your slick opening before sliding one in. This was never your forte; it was Bellamy’s. Whenever you needed to pleasure yourself, you would stick with outside stimulation, so all you knew was what he had done to you. After sliding your finger in and out a few times, you added another, but it still didn’t feel right. There was something you were missing that he usually did.

He took over your thoughts and you tried to imagine it was his hands instead of your own, but you were just fooling yourself. They were your fingers, not his. You were alone and you were desperate. No one could make you feel as close to heaven as him, not even yourself. Somehow, he knew the workings of your body even better than you did. Without him there in your desperate time of need, it was useless…

So, you started crying—like, actual tears-running-down-cheeks-and-sniffling crying. You felt utterly pathetic and that was all you felt. There was nothing you could do to help yourself. Bellamy was outside with the others, and it wasn’t like you could just waltz out there without pants on and ask him to fuck you incoherent.

Your fingers slipped out from inside you, wet and splayed across your bare stomach as you stared up at the ceiling, condemned to the unshakable longing within. Too distracted by your inability to satisfy yourself and your attempts to stop the tears from flowing, you didn’t hear the door downstairs open and closd. You sniffled, continuing to feel sorry for yourself.

Footsteps were coming up the staircase, but you didn’t hear them either. Nor did you notice the familiar figure that was now leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, feeling that same terrible longing that had led him to you. Only when he cleared his throat did you shoot up into a sitting position. 

Bellamy.

“Bellamy,” you whispered, eyes wide and full of new-found hope.

He didn’t say anything, just simply observed you. First, he noticed the sparse clothing on the bottom half of your body; his pants became the tiniest bit tighter. Then he saw your eager expression—even tighter. And then, his eyes found the fingers lying in your lap, coated in a shine that had his entire body pulsing.

The drying tears on your cheeks were a dead giveaway of the desperation you had for him. He tilted his head, insincere pity washing across his features that you knew was only meant to taunt you. “What did you do?”

Your mouth opened to speak but you couldn’t find the words. “I–I–”

He pushed off the doorway and slowly walked over to you, each step measured in regard to prolonging the time it took for the distance between you and him to close.

You moved onto your knees as he got closer.

Once he finally stopped beside the mattress where you were sitting, he peered down at you. “Just couldn’t wait, could you?”

His arms were doing that thing again where they bulged beneath his shirt. He was right in front of you, all you had to do was reach out and touch. So, you did. You reached for his arm, but he was quick to intercept, catching your wrist in his hand. He looked like he was holding back a smirk, but his scheming eyes revealed how he felt. Smug.

For a moment, he moved his attention to your hand, turning it side-to-side to watch the light catch on the wetness. His eyes returned to yours and it was suddenly impossible to guess what he was thinking. He gently began to pull you forward, guiding you off the bed and you let him, oblivious as to where he was taking you.

When your feet hit the ground, he led you towards the wall. What you had failed to notice when you first entered the room was that there was another pair of chains connected to a handcuff. Scratch what you had thought before—these people had a bigger kink problem than vanity. Before you even had a chance to think, the leather cuff was bound around both your wrists.

You looked up at Bellamy. “Wait, wha–what are you doing?”

He sat back on the edge of the mattress. “Giving you another chance to win.”

The game. You had almost forgotten.

Winning and losing were a foreign concept to your mind now. All you wanted was Bellamy and he knew it which was why he found teasing you so entertaining. You tugged on the chains, trying to reach out to him even though you knew it was useless.

“Don’t think that will work, princess.”

You stared at him, exhaling sharply. Frustration was quickly building, and you wondered how long it would take until you were in tears again.

He looked around the room as though he hadn’t a worry in the world.

“It’s kinda hot in here, don’t you think?” he asked, brows furrowed.

Then he was pulling his shirt over his head and you were sinking to your knees. That was just cruel. His entire torso was exposed now, from his well-defined abs and chest to his broad and muscular shoulders. So cruel.

Your head fell back against the wall. “Bell–”

“What were you thinking about?” he interrupted, arms crossed over his chest again. There was no material preventing you from watching his muscles expand, from seeing the crafted curves of his toned arms. “Before I came in.”

I was pretending it was you who was touching me, you thought of saying, but your voice failed you.

He leaned forward, forearms resting on his spread knees. Staring at you expectantly, he was quick to realise he wasn’t getting an explanation. He nodded as if to say, ‘I see how it is’.

“Was it my fingers…?” He began cracking his knuckles one finger at a time, gaining all of your attention. “Or was I inside you?”

Your walls spasmed at the thought and you sighed softly.

“Were you imagining what it would feel like to have me between your legs after so long?” You closed your eyes, listening to him put the images in your mind. “How good I can make you feel? How fast?”

Goosebumps spread all over your body, your skin tingling with anticipation. You heard the bedsheets ruffling. He had moved off the mattress, now crouched in front of you, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about it too.” His voice was a low murmur now. “I can’t stop.”

He watched your eyes screw shut even tighter as he got closer. You looked like you were hurting, and he almost gave in, with heavy emphasis on the ‘almost’. Instead, he ghosted a finger across your collarbone. “I think about kissing you here.” He trailed up your neck. “Here.”

You could feel the air flexing between your lips and his finger, and you shivered. “And here.”

Your eyes slowly peeled open to see his face in front of yours. His dark eyes flickered between your own, peering deep into your soul which was entwined with him. He was already inside you without even touching you; he was inside your mind and under your skin. Your body was his and his body was yours. You loved him so intensely that whenever he fucked you, you forgot you were two different people instead of one.

To Hell with the challenge. To Hell with losing. He was your Heaven, and such torturous deterrents wouldn’t keep you away from the rapture he gave.

In a single move, you leaned forward and crashed your lips to his. Your body curved into him and he caught you with both arms, holding you upright against him. There was a split second before Bellamy responded as realised you finally gave in which meant he could too, and his lips began moving against yours. Just like the first kiss you shared on Eligius IV after waking up, this one was hungry, but that word sounded inadequate compared to what it really was. ‘Ravenous’ was more accurate.

You moaned into his mouth, your body feeling like it was coming alive.

His movements were intoxicating and so were the small sounds he made when he tried to fill his lungs with air. There was a rumbling in his chest, and he sounded almost primal. He brought a hand to the side of your head, fingers buried beneath your hair as he deepened the kiss, merging your lips with his.

Your bodies rocked backwards and forwards, your cuffed hands pressed against his chest meanwhile his were around your back and the other was in your hair. Bellamy’s hand moved to squeeze your waist and your mouth opened, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue inside and meet your own.

He rolled his tongue over yours during one kiss, and the next, yours had asserted dominance. You swirled around him, tasting him, mixing with him. During the time you took to explore the inside of his mouth, the floor beneath you had disappeared and was replaced with his arms. Your back was against the wall and if he wanted to, he could have dropped you at his feet; you had no way of holding on except for your legs which were wrapped around his hips.

You returned the power to him for a few seconds only to then lightly bite down on his bottom lip. He let out a quiet groan and slowly drew back to press his forehead to yours. For a while, you both stayed like this, breathing in each other’s breaths with your eyes closed.

Everything around you began to spin, and your head felt euphoric as you used his air as your own. The sensation spread through your body, it coursed through your veins and you needed to move, to feel it come to life. Your hips bucked forward but he was quick to push back, pinning you against the wall with a small grunt. His erection pressed between your legs, but he didn’t move. Eyes snapping open, you sent him a pleading look. How much longer was he going to make you wait? You tried to move your cuffed hands between your bodies, but he held them to his chest with one hand.

You wiggled against him, but it was futile.

“Bell,” you almost sobbed. “Bellamy, please.”

He lifted a finger beneath your chin, watching your reddened lips whisper the word ‘please’. He watched your eyes water, tears threatening to spill over the edge. You begged him over and over, and he allowed you to. He let you humiliate yourself in the hopes that he would give you what you wanted. You had completely fallen apart, and now he was going to piece you back together.

“What do you want?” His thumb brushed across your lips.

“Just touch me,” you pleaded.

A few more moments passed of you both just staring at each other, and then it was like something finally snapped in his eyes. He set you down on your feet. At first, you thought he was going to sit back on the bed, and you nearly choked out an objection. That isn’t what happened.

Instead, he pressed another tender kiss to your lips, then to your jaw, your neck, and down your clothed chest. His hands moved down either side of your body as he sunk to his knees in front of you and trailed kisses across your exposed stomach.

Your breaths started coming out in shorter, shallower intervals as he moved further down.

His hands squeezed your hips as he kissed the skin below your navel, causing your eyes to nearly roll back then and there. Finally, he made it to just above the waistband of your underwear. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly now. So close. His hands moved onto your thighs and he leaned in, briefly pressing his warm lips to your thinly covered heat. A jolt of pleasure moved up your body and you gasped. You could feel it—him.

He glanced up at your impatient expression before pulling the underwear down your legs, lifting each foot until it was completely discarded. He eyed the soaking mess that you already were and licked his bottom lip. This was all because of him. His eyes found yours once more, this time wordlessly asking for access despite your obvious enthusiasm.

All you managed to get out was a frantic, “Please”.

And when his mouth finally found your clit, a tear fell from your eye.

Your bound hands fell on top of his head, tugging at the soft waves as his tongue delved between your folds and flicked across your clit. His warm hands moved to the backs of your thighs, burying his face even deeper, exploring you even further. He moved down to your opening, spreading his tongue flat against it and dragging up to collect the mess that you were already becoming. Once he had returned to your clit, his mouth suctioned, sucking with pressure that caused you to let out a cry.

It wasn’t long before you felt the ghost of your orgasm begin to slowly step into the white light. The muscles in your stomach were tensing and rubbing together, preparing for a release that they were guaranteed to have.

Your back arched off the wall as you felt Bellamy’s teeth softly graze against the most sensitive part of your clit. He circled the surrounding area, the nerves beneath your skin setting alight with pleasure under his tongue, burning you from the inside out. When he mumbled something against you, you could feel the vibrations of his voice bury itself deep inside you, and you couldn’t hold back the filthy moan that had been begging to escape.

He pulled back an inch, your hips unconsciously following him as he said, “You lose.”

His mouth returned to your heat, focusing his attention on your throbbing clit, switching between flicking it with his tongue and sucking it into his mouth.

“No,” you managed to breathe out. There was no way something like this could be called ‘losing’. You were the one who got to feel Bellamy’s mouth between your thighs, bringing you to an extreme state of ecstasy. You were the one who had him on his knees before you. “I win.”

He groaned at the sound of your voice and you felt the pleasure move up another level. Your legs buckled beneath you as you tried to grind on his tongue. He took that as a hint to haul one of your legs over his broad shoulder. Now you were another level higher. Your hips bucked against him, feeling almost like you were vibrating as he continued his movements.

Just when you thought the sensation couldn’t get any better, you felt his thick finger suddenly slide deep into your opening and curl. Another tear ran down your cheek and you gripped onto his hair as your head fell back against the wall. You couldn’t even moan; there was only a chorus of strangled noises leaving your throat. He pushed upwards into the soft fleshy wall inside you over and over at a fast and steady pace, and suddenly, you were on the edge of pure bliss, ready to dive into the consuming waters.

His mouth sucked on your clit, tongue circling its peak, meanwhile, he added another finger to pump inside of you.

“Fuck, Bellamy!” Your voice had risen an octave, all breathy and needy.

Like a heartbeat, you could feel yourself throbbing, pleasure building more intensely with each pulse. The muscles in your stomach were so tight it felt like they were being burned with a white-hot flame. Your insides were twisting and coiling and with every curl of his fingers, the feeling only intensified.

Bellamy glanced up at you from below, your eyes meeting in a short exchange.

It all happened so fast.

“I’m–” Before you could finish your sentence, you were shot back up into space, seeing stars.

Your legs tensed up, heel digging into his back as your body began to shake. The coil inside your stomach unravelled, exiting through your opening but not before aggressively rubbing at your insides on the way out. For a moment, you forgot where you were. All you knew was the release, the buzzing in your ears and the way your vision swayed through half-lidded eyes.

Bellamy’s name flowed past your lips like a mantra. He didn’t stop; he kept pumping, kept sucking, prolonging the sensation for as long as he could. Everything was pulsing—the air, his fingers, your pussy. Everything. You would’ve thought you had ascended to a higher dimension if it weren’t for the man beneath you.

You felt his mouth disconnect from your body, fingers still moving inside, although, his pace was beginning to slow and so was your orgasm. The feeling was fading away, leaving you with an overwhelming feeling of weakness in the lower half of your body. Bellamy could feel your legs shaking, so he slid his fingers out. You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore and the next thing you knew, your legs buckled, and you were collapsing to the ground

Bellamy caught you in his arms, pulling you into his lap. He watched your thighs tremble as aftershocks washed over you, creamy liquid dripping down your skin. Your furrowed brows, half-closed eyes, and parted lips were a sight to see; he’d never witnessed anything more beautiful in his life.

You peered up at him through your lashes, cuffed hands resting on your stomach, and you smiled. Then you laughed, and then he was laughing too. His chest vibrated against your skin. Your hands reached up to push back a strand of his hair from his face and suddenly you were kissing again.

He placed a hand on your back and guided you until you were sitting sideways on his lap. Your taste was on his tongue and you loved it. You felt it seep into your own tastebuds as you rewound back to when you came on his fingers. You used his chest as support to help swing your legs on either side of his folded thighs so that you were now facing him.

His hands ran down your sides, stopping at the hem of your shirt before pulling it up over your head, exposing your naked breasts to the warm air. Bras were impractical when you were Bellamy Blake’s girlfriend; he’d always find some way of removing them anyway. Hell, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he had burned all the ones you used to wear.

He lowered his head to your chest, hair tickling your neck as he began making it his mission to cover your breasts in bruises that marked you as his. Despite feeling like your ability to walk was eradicated, you could feel yourself craving more of him, more of his sex. As previously disclaimed, sometimes fatigue didn’t stop you two from going multiple rounds and this time wasn’t an exception.

If only your hands weren’t bound. You wanted to touch him the way he did you. You wanted him to feel the world disappear and be replaced with a mind-numbing sense of sinful pleasure. You wanted to give that to him, but you couldn’t. Your hands were cuffed, and he had the key.

“Uncuff me, Blake,” you whispered.

His head lifted from your breasts, reluctant eyes meeting your own. “Why should I?”

You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness and turned your head away from him, but he was quick to pull you back with two fingers on the side of your jaw.

“You still lost, remember?” he added.

As if you didn’t already know that. “That was not my definition of losing.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes and even though you were supposed to be in a minor disagreement, you couldn’t help but think about how fucking sexy he looked. You leaned forward, lips ghosting over his. “Uncuff me, Blake.”

His jaw clenched and he leaned in, but you quickly pulled away. His eyes narrowed at you and the smirk you were biting back. He had played the ‘humiliation game’ with you and now it was time for payback. Bellamy may have been the one with the keys, but it was you who now had the control.

“C’mon, we both know you’ll give in before me,” he said, arrogantly.

Always count on Bellamy to be egotistical, even in bed. Well, ‘on the floor’ would be more accurate.

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

You hummed, placing your restrained hands on his chest and slowly grazing them down his torso. When you reached his stomach, you made sure to slow down and drag your nails across his skin.

He inhaled sharply when your nails scratched the area above his pants’ waistband. “Very conceited for a boy who can’t even handle being touched.”

His chuckle came out as a harsh exhale. “‘Boy’?”

“A man would take these chains off me.”

“You think taunting me will get me to break?”

Provoking words wasn’t what was going to break him; you knew that. It was underestimation that was going to be his fall. When it came down to it, men were very simple creatures. They chased after pleasure like it was the one thing that kept them alive, and you knew each and every weakness this man had. He thought just because he won the game, he also won the war. Well, guess again. You were going to knock him right off his high horse.

Your fingers dipped into his waistband. His hand quickly clamped over one of your wrists, pulling it away from his pants. Not that it mattered; you didn’t need your hands. He held your hands in the space between your bodies, his chest rising a little more irregularly than before.

You leaned forward, tantalisingly slow. This time he made sure not to move a muscle, allowing you to do exactly what you wanted. Your mouth hovered in front of his and you could feel his warm breath fan across your lips. Softly, almost as if the moment had become sugary and sweet, you pressed a kiss to his lips, a tender closed-mouth moan buzzing in your throat upon contact. He responded with the same energy.

And then the mood abruptly shifted as you glided your tongue across his bottom lip.

You could feel his cock twitch beneath you, and you knew you were headed in the right direction. Grinding down on his lap, you managed to slip your tongue into his mouth as he grunted. One weakness down; four to go. Your tongue swirled around his with each open-mouth kiss, and he had no choice—you both knew he was having the time of his life—but to reciprocate since he had already given up that area of defence.

Your hips continued to rock back and forth across his lap, occasionally applying a bit more pressure in the hopes he would be triggered to move. He wasn’t. Yet. So, you left his lips and moved down to his neck, sucking and nipping at the skin. His head tilted to the side with a sigh, allowing you easier access. This spot was not your main target, though. Your kisses trailed up to his jaw, running along the sides and the curve of his jawline before dipping just beneath the area where his jaw and neck connected. That was one of his weak spots.

His next exhale was shaky, paired with the quietest of groans. Two down. Then you moved on to the next target: just below his ear. Your tongue grazed the area before you left your mark by sucking on his soft skin. He was louder this time and your confidence soared higher. Three; two to go.

He had let go of your wrists now, resting his hands on the curves of your hips with his eyes closed. So much for the whole my-willpower-is-stronger-than-yours dispute. You watched his face as you dragged yourself back and forth over his erection. His eyes screwed shut, brows pulling together, and his fingers pressing hard into the soft plush of your hips.

Come on. Come on, you thought.

“Let go, Bell,” you purred into his ear. Your entire body weight shifted onto his lap and you almost revealed the same weakness you were trying to pull from him. He was so incredibly hard now that it probably wasn’t even healthy. He would have to unchain you soon. And just to pour gasoline on an already roaring fire, you added, “I want to feel you inside me.”

That was it. He couldn’t deny himself the heaven you were giving anymore. His hips bucked up into you, creating a pseudo-sensation of sliding between your folds—an action that erupted a full-fledged moan from his lips, causing your inner walls to flutter and your stomach to drop.

Weak point four—check.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath before suddenly snatching the knife from the holster on his belt and splitting the leather cuffs around your wrists.

And five. Check yes Juliet.

Wow. he couldn’t even manage to grab the keys.

Your hands were free at last, and you wasted no time in using them. They rushed down to unbuckle his belt and tossed it on the floor with a clink. Before you could continue any further, Bellamy rolled you over so that you were now lying caged beneath him. His lips came down on yours in a flurry of passion.

Now that you had full-body autonomy, you couldn’t help but explore every inch of him that you were once denied of touching. Your fingertips ran over his back, over the ridges of his shoulder blades, and around his large biceps. You wove your fingers into the roots of his hair and tugged just because you could.

He reached under the curve on your back, pulling your body up into his, your pelvis’ meeting in a rough collision. He was a mess of grunts and groans and you were quickly inhaling more air than you needed.

You moved a hand to his cheek to deepen the kiss as your touch explored his body further, slipping between your bodies and settling on unbuttoning his pants. Unzipping his flier with one-handed skill, your warm, soft hand slipped into his boxers, finally coming into contact with his hard cock.

His head fell to your chest with a broken moan.

Your fingers curled around him, beginning to stroke up and down his length. Bellamy had taken many of your firsts, including your first time so you had no one to compare him to. However, you were well aware that he was bigger than average. Even if he hadn’t been, you were certain he would satisfy you the same; he was just that good.

He managed to lift his head back up and return to your lips as your arm pumped up and down. His hips lurched forward as your grip increased. All he could think about was how good you were going to feel when it was your heat that was engulfing him, how wet and warm you always were.

Your hand reached the head of his cock, thumb rubbing circles over his tip as you felt drops of precum coat your fingertip. He was usually able to last a long time, just like you, but this was different. Everything inside him was built up for a century, and it would not take much until he was coming in your hand. You wanted him to reach that point as soon as possible.

You left pecks trailing from his mouth, across his cheek, and to the side of his jaw. The bone of his jaw fell victim to your grazing tongue as your pace increased along with the pressure of your grip. He was breathing heavily now, every second breath mixed with a low, breathy moan or grunt. You were throbbing just listening to the sounds he made.

A few curses left his mouth, revealing how close he was—that and the way his cock was practically pulsating in your hand. You twisted your hand with each stroke, effortlessly gliding your palm down his large veiny length. Your thumb grazed over the sensitive band of skin beneath the head of his cock, and his entire body flinched.

He was almost over the edge; all you had to do was give him a little push. Wanting to see his face one last time before you did, you leaned back, cradling his jaw in one hand whilst the other continued below. His eyes were shut, inner brows pulled upwards in a painfully blissful expression and strands of dishevelled dark hair had fallen across his forehead. God, he was gorgeous. What you wouldn’t give to…

No. You had your pleasure; now it was his turn. With each jerk and twist of your hand, your fingers ran over his tip then moved back down to lightly squeeze and repeat. You pressed one last peck to his lips before travelling to that spot below his ear, running your tongue over the skin and then sucked.

His cock twitched in your hand, stomach tensing against your forearm before he finally let go. He let out a loud guttural moan of your name, almost a cry, as he released onto both your hand and the inside of his pants. His head fell forward into the space between your neck and shoulder, groaning into your heated skin which sent vibrations down to your breast.

He remained in that spot for a few moments as you continued to slowly pump him up and down whilst pressing kisses to his shoulder. As he attempted to get his breath back, you removed your hand from his pants and moved both onto his back, lightly dragging your nails over his skin.

Now you were both even, but it was clear this was far from over.

Warm pants fanned across your face after he recovered enough to hover over your body. You were about to tease him for coming quicker than you did, but his tongue was suddenly in your mouth, rolling around your own. And then you felt it—he was already hard again.

That’s a lot of stamina for a hundred-and-fifty-one-year-old man.

He left your lips again and rose to his knees. His carnally intense eyes never left yours as he pulled both his pants and boxers down to his lower thighs. You watched as his cock sprang from his boxers and bounced off his toned stomach. Still looking good for a hundred-and-fifty-one-year-old man too. Extremely good. Like, actually drool-worthy good.

And it seemed he was thinking the very same thing.

“You’re so beautiful,” he spoke, almost like he couldn’t believe the fact himself before he descended back down to you, mouth hot on yours.

His hands were on the floor on either side of your shoulders, essentially trapping you beneath him. You loved how small he made you feel compared to him; almost like he could hold you in the palm of his hand like a little china doll. The treatment he gave you was also like that of a china doll—such a delicate and treasured touch. Though, there were times when he would practically throw you around like a rag doll, mostly when you were both deep in an intense fuck session.

The length of his cock glided over your stomach as he moved his body into each kiss. It was so close to where you needed it, yet still so far. Your legs curled around his hips in an attempt to guide him to your entrance, but he showed slight resistance. His tip was just pushing through your folds, sliding across with each movement he made. It was torture.

You pulled back from his lips, hands almost clawing at the sides of his chest. “Please, Bell, just–”

A gasp escaped you both as Bellamy finally pushed inside you in one fluid movement, his hips almost meeting yours as he filled you as much as your previously abstinent body allowed. Your walls welcomed him and the long-awaited feeling of his cock brushing against that back-arching spot deep within you. He hadn’t even moved yet, but your eyes were fluttering, and your throat was already tightening as you struggled to let out a moan.

Neither of you could do anything but struggle to keep your composure, waiting for the overwhelming heat of pleasure to subdue just the tiniest bit so your bodies could start moving without the world crashing down around you. After moments of stillness passed, Bellamy finally began to move, his pace slow but so, so deep. His gaze was intense as he found his rhythm, sliding almost completely out and then pushing himself back inside you. Fuck, the way your warmth consumed him was hypnotic.

It was kind of like the first time you had slept together those many years ago, minus the nearly unbearable pain when he first entered you, of course. It was intense yet still so full of adoration.

Your body soon grew accustomed to the feeling of his cock stretching you open, making room for him to bury even deeper, to feel your walls completely swallow him whole. That is when his pace started to increase. Your arms hooked around his biceps, bringing him closer as he continued his thrusts.

Not long passed before his hips were snapping against yours; he wasn’t just sliding in and out of you anymore—he was fucking you, pounding into you. Each time he buried himself deep, the area above his cock ground against your clit, stimulating you from the inside and out, so much that it was impossible to hold back a moan.

He moved a strand of hair away from your face, nodding his head as if to praise your vocalisation. The sight of him praising you for simply enjoying yourself as he fucked you was something that turned you on beyond belief. Not that you needed any more turning on at that point, but still, the reaction stood firm.

You wanted him deeper, in any way that was still physically possible.

And then, a sudden, lust-bound thought entered your mind and before you could even ponder it, you had used all your strength to roll yourself on top of his body. Now, his hands were on your hips, head thrown back on the floor and mouth hung open as you rode his cock.

“Oh, fuck!” Bellamy groaned.

Your hands were on his thighs as to hold up your half-reclined position and you were bouncing up and down, rolling your hips so you could feel him everywhere inside you.

A shudder ran down your body, peaking the nipples of your bouncing breasts. You swore you could almost feel him in your stomach. You shifted your body weight into your arms and pushed yourself upwards, sliding his cock nearly all the way out, circling your entrance around his tip before sinking back down to his base.

The both of you let out a synced noise of satisfaction.

His eyes followed each roll of your breasts in a trance, and then he cupped one in his hand, circling his thumb around your sensitive nipple. You gave Bellamy a smile, one that was so sweet and unintentionally seductive. He let out a half chuckle, half groan.

Your legs began to burn, a reminder of the experience you had with Bellamy’s tongue just before this. The way your clit was slapping against his pelvis each time you dropped mimicked the way his tongue had previously flicked and rolled around it. Your pace was beginning to slow, and your rhythm faltered, but you didn’t want the sensation to stop. Instead, you let yourself sink fully down on his cock, and your eyes rolled back. Ok, now he had to be in your stomach because there was no other explanation for the deepness you felt.

He was permanently in that spot that had blood rushing to your head, and with your hips rocking back and forth the way they were, your gut was throbbing with a build-up of ecstasy.

“I–” you panted. “I can’t hold myself up much longer.”

You squeezed his thighs, surely leaving behind red marks as you tried to push yourself up and down a few more times, pleasure and pain fuelling each of your repetitions. It was no use; your arms were trembling, and muscles were burning.

Bellamy was quick to your aid. “I’ve got you, princess, don’t worry.”

His hands moved to your back, pulling you forward, and colliding your breasts into his chest. Next thing you knew, he was pounding hard up into your pussy, his movements so fast you couldn’t even count the number of thrusts he made every five seconds, but it felt so good. So good that you almost screamed.

Your clit was throbbing, inner walls clenching around his unrelenting cock. You were hot, your body slick with sweat, but it wasn’t just that; there was also a fire pooling at the bottom of your abdomen, spreading through your muscles, through every fibre of your being and you didn’t want it to stop.

Bellamy’s arms were wrapped around your waist, rendering you immobile to each of his insatiable thrusts but it made you feel all the more incredible. He was hitting that soft, fleshy spot inside you over and over again, and you felt like you were going to burst. Your stomach was fluttering, his cock was pulsing inside you, and you were a mess of whines and moans.

“You feel–” he couldn’t even speak without releasing a rough moan. His arms tightened around you, mouth moving against your shoulder to say, “Feel so good.”

You couldn’t help but cry out at his words; he sounded so drunk on pleasure.

He began pressing rough kisses to your neck and the noises leaving your throat were utterly impure. His knees bent inwards, allowing him to thrust even faster into you. You were both overcome with desire, hellbent on chasing your release that was taunting you from the shadows. Bellamy seemed almost animalistic, sucking and biting at the skin of your neck whilst pounding into you from below.

Like always, he had made it so that you didn’t have to lift a finger, and he liked it that way. He was making you feel like you had slipped into heaven, and only he could do that. One of his many sources of joy was that your body only knew his cock, and it would forever only know his because that was how long he planned to love you.

You placed a hand on the floor beside his head, hovering your face above his. His eyes were quick to find yours as you gazed down at him.

In between each of his thrusts, you breathed out, “I–love–you.”

He looked so flustered, so puffed out. He was unable to repeat the words back without them sounding like a laboured breath of air so instead, he jerked forward and latched his mouth on the bone of your jaw, turning your skin red and purple.

Your head turned to the side to give him easier access only to unexpectedly come face-to-face with yourself being absolutely destroyed in the mirror’s reflection.

Well… It sure wasn’t a vanity problem these people had, you knew that now.

“Bellamy, look,” you gasped.

His entire body stilled at the sound of your voice and he eyed you with a worried expression. “Did I do something?”

“No,” you tilted his head with your hand so that he was looking at the mirror too. “I just…”

He didn’t need to hear more; Bellamy knew exactly what you wanted—to watch. Watch as his cock plunged in and out of your pussy, watch it curve into your entrance, watch your body bounce on top of his with each thrust. Damn, he’d wished either of you had noticed the mirror before so he could have watched you ride him from two point-of-views.

His gaze returned to you. “Hop off.” You were about to protest, but he beat you to it by clamping a large hand over your mouth. “Trust me.”

You gave him a puzzled, hesitant look but eventually submitted to his command, sliding off him and onto the hard marble floor. His body had left yours entirely, leaving you feeling cold and empty, inside and out.

It wasn’t long before he positioned himself to face the mirror, kneeling in front of it. He curled an arm around your waist and slid you across the floor towards him. Like a rag doll. He pulled you backwards onto his lap so that your back was almost against his chest and your thighs were spread open on either side of his.

“Lean back,” he said, and you did.

Your back was flush against him, and you could feel his racing heart reverberating in your ribcage. His arms wrapped around the space beneath your breasts and he pulled you upwards, supporting your weight, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up.

“Ready?” he whispered into your ear as you watched him in the reflection.

You nodded, reaching around to rest a hand on the side of his neck.

He kissed your cheek and your eyes closed at the sweet act of affection. One of his hands moved beneath you as he guided himself to your entrance, his tip pushing against your wet folds. Bellamy watched over your shoulder, his eyes focusing on the way his cock teased opening.

He finally slid inside, and you instantly fell further against him. Muscles were very handy in this kind of situation. You were captivated—his length disappeared into your body and then returned almost to the tip, covered in a thin layer of both your juices. His movements continued over and over, but you never found yourself bored or wanting to look away. Neither did he.

Your lips parted with a moan when he abruptly took one hard thrust up into you. You looked up at your reflection, seeing the expression on your face, seeing your dishevelled hair… your bouncing breasts. Not that you would say it aloud, but you looked sexy. For a split second, you found yourself finally understanding the attraction Bellamy had to you, and then your mind was torn apart once again.

His speed increased and he was hitting your insides harder and harder with each passing second. You saw your thighs slightly jiggling and weren’t insecure or afraid of Bellamy noticing, but instead found yourself feeling even more turned on.

The room was full of sex—the sounds were wet and harsh, the smell of your pheromones clung to the wall, and the visuals were etched into the mirror in front of your bodies. It was beautiful.

You moved your gaze up to Bellamy’s eyes, seeing him just as captivated as you were, alternating between watching himself slip in and out of your pussy and watching your breasts recoil from each bounce. He then met your gaze, talking to you through unspoken communication. Though you were unsure of the specifics, you were certain he was telling you how much he loved you, how beautiful you looked with his cock inside you, how no one else could ever compare.

His tip repeatedly curved into your G-spot, the rest of his length rubbing against your walls, causing the flames in your stomach to start rising. Bellamy could see the fire in your eyes, and he was ready to turn it into a blazing inferno. He shifted his hold on you into one arm, reaching around your body with the other. His fingers found your clit, instantly applying pressure as he rubbed fast circles around it. That was the gasoline.

Your orgasm was no longer creeping up inside you, but rather rocketing to the surface. You were pulsing around Bellamy’s cock, driving him even closer to his own high. His hips were slapping the skin of your ass as they kept snapping upwards. His abs were more defined as the muscles in his stomach tensed up, trying to keep you upright whilst fucking into you and controlling the orgasm that was threatening to release. You always came before him. Always.

His fingers pressed harder into you, moving side-to-side. Your G-spot was being hit without mercy, only intensifying the pleasure you felt as he rubbed your clit. You alternated between holding your breath and letting out shallow, laboured breaths, signalling how close you were.

You could feel it, Bellamy could feel it—you were pretty sure everyone outside could feel it too, feel the powerful energy leaking from the house you were in. That is what it felt like. Powerful. And now it was about to take over your entire body.

“Bell, I’m gonna–”

“I know,” he panted. “Me too.”

Your hand fell over his, pushing down on it, applying more force even though you weren’t sure he could even press any harder. His hand was almost blurring in the mirror, and his cock was pounding. He was breathing so heavily against your back and into your ear that it sounded like he couldn’t even control the grunts and moans leaving his mouth anymore.

He circled your clit a few more times before your hand moved further down to the place you both connected. Your fingers found the area between his cock and your pussy, feeling him slide over your fingertips as he moved in and out. That was what sent you over the edge.

The blaze in your stomach exploded, sending sparks throughout your body. Your moans were uncontrollable, rebounding off every corner of the room. Your ears were buzzing with overwhelming silence, your vision partially blacked out and you felt so, so good. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, but you hardly noticed, unable to think about anything except Bellamy’s cock. You had ascended to a higher dimension and he was right there with you, endlessly pounding up into you, prolonging your mind-numbing high.

Feeling your walls clenching around him was all it took for Bellamy to fill you up with his come. His cock twitched, and the warm liquid came rushing out in spurts, coating your insides with white—with him. The thick warmth of your mixed juices leaked from your opening and dripped down his length. Your inner thighs were drenched.

His thrusts were sloppy and rough, desperate to keep the feeling coursing through his body as long as possible. The sounds he made were so guttural and raw that you weren’t sure if they made you come again or if they just prolonged the orgasm you were already having.

Somehow, in the midst of both your highs, you had ended up on the floor, partially laying on each other whilst frantically gulping down air.

You couldn’t move. One of your legs was tangled between his, and one arm was thrown across his chest. Your breasts were pressed against the hard ground, head turned to the side facing Bellamy. Everything was shaking, or maybe it was just your entire body uncontrollably quivering. Even your pussy was still clenching, causing you to flinch with each fraction of a movement it made.

Bellamy had a forearm over his eyes, panting heavily; his other arm was still wrapped around your waist.

The both of you just lay there for a few minutes, not talking, not moving, just recovering. Eventually, Bellamy gained back enough strength to speak.

“We didn’t even make it to the bed,” he chuckled.

You then realised you were both literally lying naked on a stranger’s bedroom floor and laughed. “We would’ve ruined the sheets anyway.”

“Probably,” he sighed, contently. He pulled you further onto his chest, bringing your face to nuzzle into his neck. He pressed a kiss into your hair. “I love you too, princess.”

You smiled into his skin, remembering the declaration you previously made. Tilting your head up and resting your chin on his chest, you stared up at him, eyes full of reverence. He peered down at you with a grin, and then his lips were on yours again, soft and slow; so tender that you–

“Oh, come on!”

You both pulled apart at the sudden new voice. In the doorway stood a very irritated Murphy. He seemed too shocked—more like too horrified—to even look away.

Bellamy ripped a blanket from the edge of the mattress and pulled it over your body. “Murphy, I swear to god I’m gonna kill you! Get out!”

“Oh my god!” he shouted in response. “I can’t catch a fucking break around here!”

His voice echoed down the staircase as he fled the building. Someone probably needed to find him a shrink after the number of times he had walked in on you both. He had made it back outside, returning to the rest of the group, though not far enough away for you to miss his very loud complaints.

“Where are the damn carnivorous bugs when you need them?!”

“What’s wrong?” you heard someone ask him.

“What’s wrong? They’re fucking animals, that’s what’s wrong!”

You turned back to face Bellamy, grinning in a daze. “I’ll say.”

Bellamy smirked, humming in agreement as he rolled back on top of you.

It was hard to say how many more rounds you went. The only time you stopped was when your bodies were screaming for a break, and during that time, all you could think was thank god for contraceptive implants.

[xoluvx]

Hi bb! First I am absolutely obsessed with your writing and Billie and Ive just fallen into your page and am in love! 🥹

Would you consider writing about Billie and the reader where the reader has been in a traumatic situation and hates storms and Billie ends up comforting and a little ✂️ action and cuddling to comfort? xx

aw thank you angel 🥺 and omg i love the ✂️ action during a storm hello??? please enjoy thiiiis 💖💖

“It’s okay,” her voice trickled in your ear, soft and warm as she held your close. You buried your face further in chest, gripping her shirt tighter and tighter each time you heard a noise. Chest tightening, body shaking, eyes shut.

“I got you, baby,” Billie whispered wrapping both arms around you as she rocked your body gently.

“It’ll pass,” her tone was reassuring, urging your body to calm down, but you tensed when you heard a loud rumble and she squeezed your arm.

“Hey, look at me” she said holding your chin, lifting your head so you were looking at her. Your eyes were glistening, bottom lip pouting. When your eyes met, you couldn’t help but get lost in her blue orbs, so warm and tender. Even in the dim light of the lamp, they shone. She brought her face closer and you extended your neck, lips touching tenderly.

Her hand spread across your cheek pulling you closer, limbs tangled as your mouths opened and closed hungrily.

It didn’t take long for hands to start prying at clothes, pealing and discarding the articles of fabric until your naked bodies molded into one. So close you could feel the goosebumps on her skin.

She tugged at your bottom lip with her teeth and you let her, drowning in her dominance. Letting her take control of your body and soul. She maneuvered your bodies until you were straddling her, one thigh draped over her torso, the other tucked under her thigh.

Her hands were gentle on your hips, fingers curling on your skin as she urged your body to move. Your wet pussies touched so intimately as you hung your head, lost in pleasure. She watched you through hooded lids, biting her lip as you swayed on top of her so slowly, your clits rubbing just for the sake of feeling close.

She planted her foot on the bed so you could hold her thigh and support your weight. You swayed and rolled your hips. She held your thigh running her fingers up your delicate skin. You moaned and rested your cheek on her knee, the friction overpowering. She lifted her hips and you moved faster, holding your hand under her knee clinging to her flesh as your pace increased; lips parted, moans running down her thigh.

You slid on her pussy trying to reach your high. Mumbling words of encouragement, she watched as you moved on top of her. So beautiful and careless and completely unaware of the storm roaring outside. You felt your pussy tighten as you kissed her knee. You couldn’t hold on much longer.

She squeezed your thigh moving her hips and you caved. Your legs shaking, pussy throbbing as you came on her own pulsing heat.

You took a few seconds to collect yourself. Cheek still pressed on her knee. Mouth open gasping for air. She felt your heart beating against her inner thigh and carefully pulled on your arm bringing you down to her. You laid next to her, leg draped over her body. Chest beating.

She wrapped you in her arms, hand cupping your jaw. Lips touching softly drowning out all the noise. Cuddling, filling you up with comfort and love.

[wonik1ss]

✦ TODDLERS AND TIARAS — ❝ ive ot6 ❞

[ 寂しげなmoonlight 君といれば ]

synopsis • ives love for you goes unknown even to you sometimes ( ??? ) fluff < song rec : sun and moon - aespa >

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 it all started when one day during iz*one’s off days wonyoung and yujin ran into tweleve year old you

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 wonyoung paused and looked through one of the practice rooms to see you learning la vien rose’s choero

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 yujin and her cooed and then ducked when you looked over to see your choreographer walk in

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 two years later you all meet again when a meeting was held for ives creation

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 during practice you were always a few steps behind and wonyoung could tell so she always paid extra attention to you and made sure you got everything

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 while rei and liz always took you out shopping conveniently during testing seasons

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 while gaeul always helped you with your homework and yujin always stopped by your school to drop lunch she knew you already had

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 while leeseo always claimed to need to sleep in your bed cause your mattress was so soft (totally not because she felt the closest to you and felt like physical she needed to be too)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 “leeseo I think my arms starting to get stringy..”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 “it’s still attached stop whining !”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 you weren’t used to the korea’s culture or idol culture of being so close since that was mostly reserved for the maknae which you weren’t since you debuted at sixteen

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 so when you started your birthday love you were very surprised to see your presents

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 “oh wonyoung got me a heavy gift”. as you opened it your eyes grew wide and your chat blew up

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 the girl had bought you three tiaras with a note ‘for our princess’. you laughed as the chat still erupted and you moved on

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 this kind of reminded of the time rei pinching your cheeks while teaching you random Japanese words.. like really weird

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 “so what did you just teach me?”. you said your hair and hers up in two buns with a ridiculous amount of glitter on your cheeks from rei’s make over

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 “smelly cheese stick”. rei said as she turned on her camera for her daily vlog. your mouth ajar.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 “do you wanna learn tomato cookie for spy poop next?”. you scratched your head while Rei resisted the urge to pinch your cheeks

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 or maybe the time when there was perfectly six seats left in your groups van but yujin and liz were fighting for who’s lap you got to sit on.. it was a suggestion from your manager who said it jokingly but they took it so seriously..

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 “no but I’m older and have stronger bones !”. yujin said as she held onto your waist very tightly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 “but we are like twin sisters it’s only fair !”. liz held both your hands as yujin cursed and wonyoung and leeseo busted out laughing. while rei spoke up.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 “y/n said she was tired she can just sleep on my lap in the back”. you nodded and climbed over to the back while both girls just sat grumpy the whole ride home

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 oh but what about the time wonyoung and gaeul kept dragging you on stage during ott

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 wonyoungs line stared and she kissed your cheek while you smiled at a fan and at the same time gaeul decided she just needed to dance with you

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 then two minutes later gaeul was giving you a piggy back and when she just put you down wonyoung grabbed liz’s hand and beckoned you their child to take a family photo for a fan

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 you just thought nothing of it.. korea wasn’t your home and you hadn’t been an idol for a long time so maybe you didn’t know everything

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗𝜚 but you did know your member cherished even when they treated you like a toddler or dressed you up like a doll with tiaras and such it was all out of love for your big happy family

[iiseult]

hey ik you have a lot of requests rn but could i get a King Baldwin NSFW alphabet at some point? thxx

Nsfw Alphabet: Baldwin iv x reader (drabble (?))

Note: I feel like writing smut about him is gonna get me sent to hell but fuck it we ball! Also I know everyone is about to be real mad at me for not focusing on high noon sunlight but I'm annoying so I need to write short drabbles and stuff like this first to help me flesh out his character

CWs → smut, leprosy, general cringe, AFAB reader, historical inaccuracies

A = aftercare (what they're like after sex)

• He would immediately fetch something to clean the two of you up. He wants to make sure you're comfortable and ready to turn in for the night, because you're not going anywhere now.

• He needs you to stay with him and talk, so he can be sure you are a real person really love him as much as he loves you. Finding someone like you, who's willing to love him both emotionally and physically, was hard enough. There's no way he'll ever let you go now.

• He likes falling asleep to the sound of you reading to him. Since he usually doesn't allow for much cuddling for fear of infecting you, it's enough to be lulled to sleep by your pretty voice.

• If he does break down and let you cuddle, he prefers to be the little spoon as the two of you fall asleep. He craves the feeling of your face pressed into the crook of his neck, your warm breath tickling his ear.

B = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

• He doesn't have very high self esteem, and there aren't many parts of his body he'd say he "likes," per se, but the most tolerable to him is his chest. It's the largest part of his body unaffected by rash or sores.

• Since he is somewhat athletic, what with all the horseback riding and sword fighting, he is well-toned. His chest is sturdy and broad, perfect for resting your head on (or bite if you’re freaky like that 😛)

• His favorite part of your body is either your waist or your hips. He doesn't often get possessive (mostly because he doesn't feel worthy of possessing you), but holding you by your hips is the most intimate thing he can imagine. Feeling your curves with his own two hands and sliding his fingers over your supple skin until they come to rest around your waist is his subtle, gentle way of telling you who you belong to. And his hands are large enough that his fingertips almost touch when he holds you around the middle.

C = cum (anything to do with cum)

• He's afraid of his cum touching you. He worries it will somehow infect you or render you infertile, since many people still believed leprosy to be an STD. Therefore, he always pulls out and does his best to clean you up, should you come into contact with it. To him, you are so pure that he simply can't risk soiling you. He doesn't mind pulling out even though it can be so tempting to release inside of you, because no earthly pleasure is worth compromising your health.

• On the other hand, he doesn't mind your cum at all. He found it fascinating the first few hundred times; proof that you were genuinely feeling pleasure by his own hand.

• He would admire the glossy shine dripping from his fingers and then taste it slowly, no matter how flustered it made you. He doesn't find it unsanitary at all, like some men do. Plus, you always taste so good.

D = dirty secret

• As much as he would like to deny it, Baldwin is just like any other man, and he experiences sexual urges from time to time. Since he's so young and has been repressing himself for so long, it doesn't take much to turn him on.

• All you have to do is look at him the right way. Or any way, really. Your eyes alone are enough.

• The smell of your perfume does it, too. It's almost like a pavlovian response. If you spray some on his pillow or his clothes while you’re away, he’ll go insane, plagued by incessant thoughts of you that can only be held at bay by finishing himself off.

• Also, he wishes he could get you pregnant so fucking bad even though he knows it can’t happen. But if he had one magic wish, he would ask to be able to raise a child with you for as long as he can.

E = experience (how much experience/skill they have)

• Literally zero. He’s never had any sexual experiences with anyone else, and what he’s done with you is already far more than he ever expected. Everything he knows, you learned together. On the bright side, that means you can teach him to do everything exactly the way you like it.

• After a bit of time together, he’ll develop the necessary skills and become a very generous, devoted partner. Granted, you’ll have to show him what to do at first, and how to make you feel good, but he’s a smart man, and he’ll catch on quickly. After a simple demonstration and a few questions, he’ll start acting of his own accord.

• What he wants above all else is to please you; his own pleasure is a secondary concern. This may stem partially from his physical insecurities, and the fact that he couldn’t imagine anyone else touching him for so long. But it’s also because he loves you.

F = favorite position

• Cowgirl. He prefers to be on the bottom because it’s not as strenuous, but rest assured, he still contributes plenty. His absolute favorite is when you sit on his lap so he can put his face in your chest and grab your ass while you ride him. Usually it becomes more him thrusting up into you as you get tired of bouncing.

• This position also allows him to look up into your beautiful eyes as he penetrates you, which is often the final nail in the coffin for him. As soon as you gaze down at him with your messy hair framing your face so nicely, he feels himself twitch and has to pull out quickly, releasing hot ropes of cum onto your ass.

G = goofy (are they more serious or silly in the moment)

• Serious. He’s very romantic, and every single time, he reminds you how much he loves you. His feelings for you are not something he takes lightly. Additionally, he believes sex is a somewhat sacred act you should only ever share with your wife or husband, so it’s special to him every single time.

H = hair (how well groomed they are)

• He has pubic hair, but it’s soft, blond, and not very noticeable. Of course he’s always very clean and freshly washed, and often he will plan to bathe and apply fresh bandages to his body before spending the night with you.

I = intimacy (what are they like romantically in the moment)

• It’s unsurprising that he’s extremely sweet and loving during sex, since he’s like that normally, but it becomes even more pronounced. He just wants to be close to you.

• His favorite feeling is when he completely bottoms out and can feel his tip kissing your cervix. He loves burying his cock as deep inside you as possible and then holding that position, as strenuous as it may be, letting you feel every tiny twitch and pulse.

J = jack off

• After so many years of pent up sexual energy, it’s hard to close the floodgates once you open them. On nights when you sleep in separate bedchambers or are not together for some reason, it’s pretty much guaranteed that he’ll be fisting his cock for hours to the thought of you. Sometimes he’ll even practice using a pillow.

• Every single time he’ll feel guilty and embarrassed, trying to get it over with as quickly as possible, but it’s never enough. As soon as he felt you for the first time, felt himself sinking into you as your tight pussy stretched and squeezed him like nothing else ever had, it was the only thing he wanted for the rest of his life. The initial shock of pushing his swollen cock between your walls always draws a gasp from his lips, and it can’t be replicated, no matter how hard he tries.

K = kink

• Praise kink. Definitely. Especially when it’s about his appearance. He’d never heard a woman speak about being sexually attracted to him before you, and had always assumed they found him abhorrent. Actually, he’d grown accustomed to it and stopped being bothered by it at a certain point. So, every time you tell him what a pretty boy he is, it catches his off guard and makes his stomach erupt into butterflies.

• Complimenting his broad shoulders or tracing his abs with your delicate fingertips makes him blush so bad you can practically see steam coming from his ears. His eyes cloud over and he’s honestly one “good boy” away from actually drooling. ‘Cause he only really wants to make you feel good, and hearing the proof is the best reward.

• Hearing your moans also counts as part of this because it makes him feel strong and confident.

L = location (favorite place to do it)

• Bed, duh! Where else is fit for his queen?

M = motivation (what turns them on)

• Kisses. Even if they’re innocent. Even if you kiss him on the cheek because you’re in public and can’t do anything more. God forbid you kiss him anywhere else. Immediately, he gets hard.

• Kiss his neck and he’ll melt into jello in your hands.

• Kiss his collarbones and he’ll start getting a little desperate, grabbing you anywhere he can and rutting his hips into you.

• Kiss his hipbones and he’ll beg you to stop teasing and just touch him where he needs you, ‘cause it hurts too bad.

• Kiss his inner thighs and he might even whine. He’s used to getting whatever he wants, and teasing makes him so deliciously frustrated.

N = no (something they wouldn't do)

• He’s pretty vanilla, so most kinky things would probably be a no for him, but degradation is especially offensive, especially when it’s him degrading you. He hates the idea of speaking ill about you, his precious wife, the absolute love of his life, the woman he was head over heels for the second he met you. It wouldn’t make sense to whisper anything other than sweet nothings to you.

• He also wouldn’t enjoy being degraded. Even if he logically knows it’s all an act, it would get to him. He doubts himself and his sexual skills a lot since he doesn’t have the same physical abilities as other men, and hearing anything that might confirm his doubts, serious or not, turns him off. It makes him wilt like a sad flower. ☹️ Don’t you love him?

O = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill)

• He prefers giving! He thinks you taste like candy and loves hearing your desperate moans as he laps at your clit. He doesn’t mind at all when you start squirming and basically fucking his face. Anything for his princes, or, more accurately, his queen.

• He loves it when you finally cum and drench his entire face and chin. He’ll make you watch as he licks his lips.

P = pace (fast or slow? gentle or rough?)

• Slow and gentle, but deep and effective. He takes his sweet time with you, closing his eyes and allowing his body to do what comes natural.

• His touch is so soft and feather-light when he caresses your chest and thighs. He always treats you like glass.

• Every stroke is an intentional, fluid motion, never choppy or rushed.

• He kisses you softly the entire time, pressing his pillowy lips all over your bare chest and neck. And to your own lips, of course.

• Sometimes he holds your hand.

Q = quickie (their opinion on quickies, how often)

• He doesn’t know what that is, nor would he ever participate in one. Sex is meant to be fully enjoyed in private, in his opinion.

• Every time you sleep together, he pulls out all the stops, setting the entire evening aside to prepare. He makes sure the bed is clean and decorated with plenty of plush pillows and blankets, lights extra candles, draws the curtains, sends away the servants, and messes with his hair in front of the mirror until it looks satisfactory.

R = risk (do they experiment?)

• To an extent. He has definite boundaries that he will not cross, but if something sounds like it aligns with them, he’ll be eager to give it a try. It wasn’t so long ago he was being taught how to fuck, which was somewhat of an experiment itself.

S = stamina

• He doesn’t get overstimulated very easily and can go for pretty much as many rounds as you want. He barely even needs to stop between them, his refractory period is super short. Basically, as long as you’re in front of him, he’s hard. It’s literally so cute how much he loves you and your body.

T = toys

• It’s literally the dark ages baby we ZONT have that

U = unfair (how much they like to tease)

• Sometimes when he’s eating you out he likes to hold your hips flush to the mattress with his hands, not letting you buck against his face and effectively edging you. He thinks it’s cute to watch you get frustrated and whine his name. If you do, he’ll raise and eyebrow and ask what you want, pretending like he was born yesterday and doesn’t know good and well that you want his warm tongue back on your throbbing pussy.

• The teasing can’t last too long, though, because he’s a big softie and can’t stand being anything other than completely gentle with you for long periods of time. <3

V = volume (how loud are they, what sounds do they make)

• Not too loud volume-wise. Lots of soft, quiet grunts in that smooth voice of his. If something you do catches him by surprise, he lets out a little yelp, which is more high-pitched and breathy. When he cums, it draws a long, rumbling moan from deep within his chest, and leaves him breathing heavily. While he fucks you, he lets out little puffs of air.

• If you tease him enough, he’ll get desperate and whine a little, but it’s pretty rare.

W = wild card (random hc)

• He’d be an ass man for sure. Not that he doesn’t enjoy your tits, too. He just has a weak spot for a nice ass. Yours just fills up his hands so perfectly that he can’t help but cup it in his palms and massage gently. If you’re laying on your stomach, he plays with it sometimes, fascinated by the way it jiggles when he nudges it.

X = x-ray (what's going on under their clothes)

• It’s big. Like, 8 inches and just girthy enough that your fingers can touch when you wrap your hand around it. He doesn’t know what to do with all that, honestly. He knows it’s kind of big and it actually embarasses him.

Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive)

• Oh baby it’s bad. He wants you. You’re the only one he wants. Every time he sees you he gets little hearts in his eyes and has to bite his lip to stop the impure thoughts that are plaguing his mind from taking over.

Z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep after)

• Not too fast, usually you have to read to him or rub his back for awhile before he sleeps. Even though his body is physically very relaxed after releasing all that tension, his mind is still going a mile a minute. He has a lot to worry about as king, and putting those thoughts to bed is sometimes easier said than done. Thankfully he has you to help him out.

[catscidr]

Hallo... can I get some fluff for akademiya dottore where he, fem!reader, and a couple others are on an expedition and eventually dottore finds himself falling for reader cuz they share like all the same interests... 😊 eventually he confesses to reader and reader accepts happily. smiles :)

i. note — if akademiya dottore has ten lovers, i am one of them. if akademiya dottore has one lover, that's me. if akademiya dottore has zero lovers, i am dead. (๑•̀ㅂ•́)ง✧ also i meant to finish this like a week ago but shit happened n then i was bleeding in yamcha pose™ in my bed........ My Apologies ii. includes — akademiya era dottore (zandik), fem!reader and a very special friend :) iii. warnings — nothing but friendly banter and tooth rotting fluff amen. also not proofread we die like [redacted] iv. wc — 3,2k -> also on ao3 if u prefer to read fics there

You wish you had slammed your door shut the second you saw who was on the other side earlier today. Instead of having a relaxing, free day, you were out on a hike with people whom you were acquainted with at best and with one of the biggest enigmas in the Akademiya, Zandik. If it wasn’t for your curiosity and deep yearning for an answer as to why he sought you out specifically to go out on an expedition, you wouldn’t have accepted— but alas. Here you were, sweating your body mass away in the humid, sticky weather of Sumeru. 

The group only got to the other side of the bridge leading out of the city, right after passing through an old tree trunk serving as a makeshift overpass, when you had to take a break. It wasn’t your fault you weren’t used to walking for long periods of time; being a Rtawahist student meant you didn’t need to go outside of the city as much as other darshans. You weren’t the only one that held that sentiment though, so you all (thankfully) took a brief moment of respite before heading on. 

You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t enjoy the scenery at least a little bit. Even though your arm was starting to get sore from shielding your eyes from the bright sun, the flora almost made it worth it. The air felt crisp on your skin and in your lungs, the distant sound of a flowing waterfall was washing away the tension in your shoulders, and you started to think that maybe you should spend more time outside. Watching the water near the mystic domain in the area of Chatrakam Cave, you start to ponder if it would be worth it to go for a dip to cool off while everyone else discusses where to go next... 

“Hey.” 

An impatient voice rips a yelp out of you, pulling you right out of your daydreams. Minty hair obscures the sun, giving your arm a much-appreciated break from shielding your eyes. “We have places to be, you know. Are you ready to go or do I have to leave you out here for eremites to rob you?” 

Blinking away the initial shock, you scoff at your schoolmate’s bluntness and drag yourself up to your feet. “And you wonder why you don’t have any friends,” you huff under your breath, patting away any dirt that had stuck to your uniform. Zandik rolls his eyes and frowns, sharp canines looking more akin to a puppy’s maw than a shark’s. “I don’t wonder why I don’t have any friends, mind you. I already know why I don’t have any,” he retorts, turning away from you to walk away. You grumble ‘sure you do’ quietly under your breath before catching up to him, glancing at the others in your group. “Guys, wait for us!” 

You watch them begin to walk along the left side of the intersection and go to follow them before the aforementioned boy grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “Where do you think you’re going? You’re supposed to follow me. Or did you forget who invited you in the first place?” Yeesh, talk about a short fuse. Being (mostly) used to his sharp remarks, you manage to push down the urge to bite the bait he had laid out for you. “I mean, it’s not like you told me where we would be going or why I’m here. Besides, aren’t we supposed to stay grouped up? Professors have always warned us about Rishboland Tigers roaming outside the-” Zandik cut you off by tugging you towards him, away from the group of students. 

“The stuff I need is over this way,” he said quietly. Irritation seeped through his pores, though for what reason you didn’t know. Wriggling your wrist out of his (lax) grip, you pick up your pace just enough to catch up to his long legs. The cliff to your left provided some nice shade, but the more he led the way the more he picked up the pace. You didn’t even have time to ask about your schoolmates— though it seemed like they were fine with you two splitting up from the group, anyways. 

“Stop going so fast! Hey- what's up with you all of the sudden?!” 

You place a hand on his shoulder in a poor attempt to stop his run for answers. Zandik shushes you with a harsh glare and his index to his mouth, earning himself a baffled expression from you. “What is your problem today?” you hiss, voice quieter than before. Too busy glaring holes into the back of his head, you fail to see the focused and starry eyes your friend had as he looked ahead. He stops walking abruptly, making you bump into him with an elegant ow fuck! Your face had met his nape, minty hair tickling your forehead as you step back to rub the ache away from your nose. 

“I don’t feel like playing charades, Zandik. Seriously, what’s up with y-” he hushes you with a hand motion, frustration boiling in your gut. Ready to give him a piece of your mind, you step to the side to stand next to him; what you didn’t expect to see a few feet in front of him were sentient mushrooms— fungi, hopping and playing around a cluster of ores. 

“...they look like matsutake,” you whisper, glancing at Zandik to catch a glimpse of his face. He crouches down and you follow suit, silently observing the fungi alongside him. There were three in total; they all seemed to be standing still, occasionally... wriggling in place, a dim green light emanating from their thick stems. “Are they feeding on the iron?” you murmur, dumbfounded. Since when did mushrooms eat rocks? 

“They’re absorbing nutrients from the ground. It just so happens that there are an abundance of it around ore clusters,” Zandik explained, the lack of condescension in his tone puzzling you. “How do you know that? You’re not an Amurta student.” Though you couldn’t deny that seeing the fungi in their natural habitat was captivating, even if they were still just living mushrooms. 

The boy exhales sharply, “I don’t care for the fungi themselves. It’s because—” leaves rustle, making him pause his sentence to look around, checking if anyone was listening. When the coast is clear he continues, “they’re... related to ley lines.” You peel your gaze away from the sentient vegetables to look at your friend with a look that clearly displayed your confusion. As the cogs turned in your brain though, you start to piece things together and come up to your own hypothesis about his claim. 

“That makes... sense. They’re part of the forest, so it would make sense if they were extensions of ley lines since they’re kind of like roots...” you mutter your train of thoughts out loud, grabbing a stray stick to draw on the ground. Your sketch was... lackluster, but it got the point across. “Trees are rooted to the ground, and mushrooms grow on trees or around them—” you point at the messy “drawing” of a fungi you just made, “but if they gain some elemental energy from nearby ley lines, then they’ll become sentient!” 

As you exclaim your new discovery, your eyes meet Zandik’s carmine ones— and your face flushes once you realize he had been staring at you this whole time. A choked noise of surprise rips itself out of your throat, the noise startling the fungi nearby, making them scurry away further along the dirt path. He smacks your head, “I told you to be quiet!” 

You don’t have time to protest because a horde of fungi run up to you— so many of them that you couldn’t even take the time to count. A string of curses fly out of Zandik’s mouth, and as he scrambles to get up, he grabs your wrist, pulling you up to your feet to run. “They look harmless, but they can seriously injure you if they’re in a group— book it!” he shouts, jumping up on a moss-covered rock, climbing up on the hill going around the path blocked off by the fungi. He helps you up quickly and you both make a dash for it, in the hopes that they’ll stop coming after you. 

You’re grateful that the sun had started to set before you and Zandik got ambushed, at the very least. The sky had turned a beautiful shade of indigo, orange and pink dotting the horizon and the clouds above. Without the sun sapping away at your energy you were able to get away scot-free and enjoy a breathtaking sunset; you hadn’t even noticed that Zandik was leading you somewhere, too engrossed in the familiar sight of the sky you had gazed into so many times. 

“Look over there,” he places a hand on your shoulder to grab your attention and you look as he points to a small group of fungi. Their shape looked more like drills than mushrooms, and they definitely lacked the “natural” camouflage that their other skin had, since they were white and periwinkle, and not dirt brown. A quiet woah leaves you as you look at them, brain working overtime once again. Zandik walks with you, slowly, away from the fungi before you can get attacked again. 

You begin to ramble about your theories to Zandik when you’re both far enough from the living vegetables, making grand, expressive gestures with your hands to emphasize your thoughts. The sound of your shoes crunching the grass beneath your feet, crickets chirping and the gentle evening breeze rustling the verdure around sound distant compared to the sound of your voice enthusiastically talking about the creatures you encountered. He absentmindedly scolds himself, wishing he had dragged you out of your dorm room earlier. 

“Nara Zandik!” a voice says from behind him. 

“Fucking Archons-” his head whips around to gawk at the culprit; a small, cyan colored mushroom creature. Completely oblivious to the newcomer, you halt your steps to look at Zandik’s mortified expression. “Why’d you stop?” 

The boy’s attention is torn between you and Ararycan, head spinning. Based on your reaction (or lack thereof), you couldn’t see it; which brought up the question. Should he tell you the truth— that there’s currently a “friendly” sentient mushroom right beside you, or should he lie through his teeth and say- 

“N-Nothing. Just keep going, I’ll catch up. I have, uh... a stomachache.” 

Zandik has never been a good liar, but deciding to spare him the embarrassment, you nod. “Alright. Shout if you need me!” You walk off, looking over the hill to admire the large trees below, more akin to giant lotus plant leaves than actual trees. Your form retreats far enough that Zandik’s sure you won’t hear him if he whispers. 

He looks down at the aranara, panicked red eyes meeting oblivious, beady black orbs and a smile that never faltered. “Why did you show up now?” Ararycan dismissed the harsh tone in which the boy spoke (or didn’t understand it); it didn’t care either way. The creature brimmed with optimism. “Nara Zandik should say what’s on his mind!” it says, little arms waving up and down. “The forest is happy, iron chunks are asleep, and the sky is bright! Why is Nara Zandik scared?” 

His brows furrow, lips curling into a pout as he murmurs, “I’m not scared.” The aranara blinks at him, still smiling- waiting. “I’m not,” he repeats, “it’s just... argh, what do I do? Why is my head so...” “Fuzzy?” Ararycan finishes, tilting its bulbous head to the side, the leaves on its head flopping over. Zandik grumbles, hands coming up to cover his face 

“Is the strange Nara nice?” it asks curiously, turning to look at your figure sitting on the hill a few meters away. You lean over carefully, observing the signs of life below; lanterns made from sticks and leaves, dirt paths separating in a multitude of directions and a small, round house with large leaves serving as a roof. Why you had never seen anything like this was a mystery to you, but you figured you’d just pester Zandik about it later since he was the one to bring you here. 

Zandik looks back down at his friend, his expression having softened from just a few moments ago. “Yeah. That’s why I’m being... stupid. What do I say?” 

Ararycan uses its tiny legs to turn back to look at the flustered boy, black eyes focused on scanning his face. “Talk to her about the sky!” it finally says enthusiastically, walking away before the boy can get a word in. “Hey-!” Little noises echo in the same rhythm as its footsteps, but right as Zandik turns around to ask something, the creature jumps up and disappears into the ground. A frustrated groan leaves Zandik’s gritted teeth, having resigned himself to the “advice” the aranara gave him. 

You hear light footsteps behind you, drowning out the noise of your thoughts as you look back to see Zandik grimacing at you. Or not— his eyes weren’t focused on you, but you happened to be in his line of sight, which made it look like he was judging you heavily. Giggling at him, you pat the grass next to you and shuffle away to give him some space. 

“Feeling better?” He remembers the excuse he gave you and cringes internally as he sits down, body stiff and awkward. “Yeah. Sure. Listen, uh...” Zandik trails off, losing his words. He sheepishly fiddles with the scarf draped over his shoulders, ears reddening the longer he stalls. You nudge his side with your elbow, “Did your stomachache affect your cognitive functions or something?” 

The comment slides off of him as if it were water and he was made up of extra virgin olive oil. What did Ararycan say? Talk about the sky... 

“Hey, can’t you see the stars clearly from here?” he manages to say, glancing up to look at the streaks of white in the welkin. You follow suit, mouth agape when you realize that you can, and the sky is so clear that you can see smudges of different colors in the sky. The navy backdrop was covered in soft shades of purple and blue, stars glistening so softly it was as if someone had gently and strategically placed them there. 

“Woah...” you whisper, your eyes sparkling just as brightly as the constellations. You point out the ones you recognize, eager to talk about your field of expertise. "This one right there is called Leptailurus Cervarius, it looks like a cat!” He leans over to look at where you pointed at and there it was, a small cluster of six stars. He couldn’t say that he saw the cat you spoke of, but he didn’t want to bum you out either. 

“It looks like it’s jumping,” he mutters. You turn to face him with a smile on your face, one that rivaled the brightness of the stars above your heads. He thought his heart would jump out of his chest and into your lap— but even then, he didn’t particularly mind if it did. “It is!” You nod quickly, pointing out more constellations with names he wasn’t even sure he would remember the next day. But he wanted to know more, to listen to you talk about the galaxy so much that he could be a Rtawahist student, too. 

You soon begin to grow drowsy, having spent most of your energy talking Zandik’s ear off (not to mention the sprint from earlier). As you wobble, struggling to hold yourself up, Zandik gently takes ahold of your head and places it on his shoulder. The fabric of his uniform felt comfortable, earning him a small smile from you. His mind drifts away for a moment— his heart clenched in his chest as he thought back to all the time he spent with you. 

From your roaring arguments about trivial matters to info dumping on each other, Zandik couldn’t help but wish you’d make more memories with him. Maybe it was selfish, but he didn’t like picturing someone else leaning their shoulder for you to doze off on. If he could be your pillow forever, he would take up the job in a heartbeat. 

...What? 

You jolt awake, surprised by Zandik’s sudden movement. He straightened his back, clearing his throat awkwardly. Thankfully there were any creatures around, or else you two would have gotten mauled already. 

“We should get back.” The suggestion draws a groan out of you as you stretch your arms over your head, flopping back onto the grass. It was slightly cold and soft enough to relax your limbs once again, sleep pawing at you desperately, “It’s nice here though.” 

Zandik pushes away whatever indecent thought had begun to brew in his head from seeing you laid on your back next to him. He carefully grabs the hem of your skirt and brings it down to cover your legs as he speaks, “You’ll catch a cold. Come on, we have to go.” 

You blow a raspberry at him, turning away. “Maybe you will but I won’t. I’m strong, I can easily fight off a measly cold,” and you flex an arm to prove your point. It doesn’t convince him in the slightest, and he pulls you up to your feet with him. You decide not to point out the way he struggled ever so slightly— he definitely wasn’t hiding any beefy muscles under his uniform. 

“Okay fine we’re going,” you huff while dusting off your skirt, “but you owe me!” 

“Owe you what? I’m not the bad guy here.” 

“Uh... a drink. You’re paying for my caffeine next time we go out,” you say, and Zandik rolls his eyes. Very typical of an Akademiya student. 

“Fine. It’s a date.” 

You nod quickly, eager to get a tasty drink and to save a handful of mora the next time you go out. Of course it’s not like drinks were that expensive in Sumeru, but it feels nice to be treated every once in a while- 

“A date?!” 

Some birds fly away in fear from the sheer shock your voice carried out. You gape at Zandik, cheeks flushed brightly and eyes wide like saucers. “Yeah. A date,” he repeats nonchalantly, a stark contrast from the way he was acting just shy of an hour ago. Gone was the nervous wreck that was Zandik. 

“If you don’t want a free drink, you can always refuse,” he teases, nudging you with his elbow in the same way you did with him when you were sitting on the hill overseeing the lotus leaf trees. You scoff, then shake your head, and scoff again in pure disbelief. You were stunned; dumbfounded, even. But the idea of a date didn’t sound as unappealing as you made it out to be. 

You glance away from him and mumble your answer. “What was that? I didn’t hear y-” 

“Fine, it’s a date!” 

He looks at you with a boyish grin, making your heart skip a beat. Was he always this handsome? The moonlight made his hair look ethereal, glowing almost pure white where the light shone directly on it. And his eyes— they looked irresistible. Crimson red orbs appearing to have more of a pink hue to them, though you weren’t sure if that was just your imagination. 

Zandik grabs ahold of your hand and matches his steps with yours as you make your way down the hill, back to where you found the familiar dirt path you had walked on when the sun still shone brightly in the sky. As you get closer to flat ground you notice a small horde of mushroom-shaped... mushrooms, and get hit by a wave of déjà-vu. Although asleep, the fungi were blocking the path back. 

“...How are we supposed to get back?” 

[lalacliffthorne]

💜 starshine pt. II 💜

Rhysand x Reader

part I part II part III part IV part V part VI

summary: Rhys finds himself coming back, again, and again.

notes: okay, so this was a bit difficult to figure out, because I had to bridge a long timespan in order to get things ready for the next part, but I think I like how it turned out? anyways, it's just a lot of fluff (which might be slight compensation for what comes next...)

______________________________________________________________

The next morning, Rhys was gone. The only evidence he had ever been there was the scent of night and jasmine that filled the living room when I came down the stairs, and a note on the dining table.

Picking it up, I unfolded it, feeling my lips curve slowly as my eyes flickered over the cursive handwriting.

Thank you.

☆

I felt him even before his voice sounded from behind me, deep and smooth and brushing over my skin like a pleasant shudder.

“Hello, starshine.”

My heart skipped against my ribs, and I held my breath when something in my chest lurched, fluttering high as I stilled for a moment and felt the strange urge to start smiling beamingly. Instead, I looked over my shoulder, and my eyes met violet ones, twinkling like the night sky.

“Huh.” I felt my lips curve into a wide, cheeky smile as I eyed him. “Look at that.” Straightening up slowly, I raised a brow. “Another near-death-experience?”

Rhys smirked, and something did a sharp turn in my chest at the way his eyes twinkled when he raised a brow at me.

“No, but I am mildly insulted by how happy that thought makes you.”

“Well, I am a sucker for High Lords getting knocked off their high horses.” I grinned widely before tipping my head to the side, squinting in thought. “Though, with you, it would probably be something more along the lines of knocked right out of the air, wouldn't it?” I could feel my lips curl into a mischievous smile, and Rhys' smirk grew until creases formed in his cheeks.

“If you're not here because of the threat of imminent death looming over you,”, I blinked, squinting, “and, by the way, if you are, you're doing an impressive job of hiding it –“

“Are you saying I look good?” Rhys' eyes were twinkling, and suddenly, I had to fight my lips from twitching as I raised my brows at him.

“I'm saying you don't look like you're dying; if that equals looking good for you, you and I need to have serious conversation.”

The High Lord stared at me, and very slowly, he started to smile until his eyes crinkled at the corners and dimples formed in his cheeks.

Something thumped against my ribs, and I breathed out, feeling my lips rise slowly and cheekily when I softly raised a brows. “What are you doing here?”

Rhys' gaze flickered over my face, and he seemed to hesitate for nothing more than a heartbeat before narrowing his eyes lightly. “I never got to ask you if you'd let me come back.”

My heart missed a step, and for a second, I just stared at him in surprise as his gaze tracked over my face like he was trying to gauge my reaction.

“You mean, in case you,”, I blinked, feeling my lips rise, “did something stupid and are close to dying again?”

Rhys opened his mouth indignantly, but there was a crease forming in his cheeks when he glared at me.

“It wasn't stupid –“

“It was stupid.” I grinned brightly, and Rhys huffed.

“We're not having this discussion again.”

Giggling under my breath, I stared at him for a second. Then I blinked and sent him a crooked, slow smile.

“You can come back if you did something stupid.” My eyes tracked over his face, and something skipped softly against my ribs as warmth spread through my chest and I offered him a soft grin. “Even if you didn't.”

Rhys blinked, and for a moment, his throat worked like he was suppressing the urge to swallow, emotion flashing through his eyes that made something rise in my chest. Then he nodded lightly.

☆

He did come back.

First, it was only when he was injuried.

“Stop squirming,”, I grumbled, furrowing my brows as I curled my fingers in a come-hether-motion, golden magic knitting together the deep flesh wound in Rhys' side. He had turned up on my doorstep a few minutes earlier, holding his side and sending me a charming grin that didn't cover his wince when he had shifted in the spot.

Now he was settled into the cushions of the couch, complaining under his breath as I healed his wounds, his hair dishevelled, clothes blood-stained and a grumbly look on his face that almost made me giggle.

“Just stay still.” I threw him a soft grin. “I know it is uncomfortable, but if you keep twitching, it'll just make it worse. Just focus on something else.”

Rhys huffed before breathing out, letting his head roll to the side to stare at me. His violet eyes pierced my skin, and I was once again struck by unfairly beautiful he was.

Like he'd heard me, one corner of Rhys' lips curved up, and without looking away from the slowly closing wound on his side, I huffed.

“What?”

Rhys' grin grew until a crease formed in his cheek and his eyes were twinkling.

“You told me to focus on something else.”

My heart skipped high. “I didn't mean me, you idiot.”

“Careful, darling.” Rhys looked as happy as a big cat stretched out on a sunny window sill as he grinned at me. “Any idiot might think he's distracting you.”

I glowered at him and turned my eyes back onto his wound, barely biting back a smile.

Idiot.

Little by little, the time between Rhys' visits shortened.

After a few months of occasional drop-ins and the realization that he was both an insufferable flirt and an unbelievably grouchy patient, he started to appear in my living room even when he wasn't injured.

Sometimes it seemed like he had grown bored with whatever he had been doing and needed a distraction. Those were the days he followed me around, hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face as he flirted like he was trying to find out how much it needed to make me either blush or throw something at his head.

"Rhys." I turned around to glare at him, trying to fight the heat in my cheeks. "Get your head out of the gutter!”

“Well, there are other places I think you'd enjoy my head.” Rhys' smirk was positively wicked, and I stared at him gaping, something beginning to bubble in my chest as I fought the sudden urge to beam.

“I very much regret that I allowed you to come back here right now.”

Leaning forward, Rhys' breath brushed over my neck, causing my heart to dip and his lips to curve as his violet eyes twinkled and he sent me a cheeky grin.

“Liar.”

Then there were days when he was a quiet. When the weight of the world and his responsibilities seemed to get too much.

When the air shifted, I raised my head, and something tightened in my chest.

Rhys was standing in front of the open window doors that led to the garden, rain pelting down behind him. His hair was dishevelled, his clothes, usually immaculate, now crumpled. When his gaze found me where I was standing at the counter, something shifted in his eyes, and it looked like he was suppressing the urge to swallow.

I blinked before smiling softly and a little cheekily. “Hello.”

“Starshine.” Rhys' quiet voice sounded rough, like he hadn't used it in a few days, and his gaze tracked over my face like he was drinking it in.

Feeling my brows furrow just the tiniest bit, I softly beckoned him towards the couch with a nudge of my head, and Rhys complied, slowly beginning to make his way over as I pulled another cup from one of the shelves. He looked tired, a little worn, his shoulders slumping even before he took a seat, his usually perfectly falling hair ruffled like he'd ran his hands through it a few times too often.

Filling the second cup with tea, I picked it up as well as my own and slipped around the dining table. Rhys raised his head to watch me move towards him, one corner of his lips rising and a quiet “Thank you.” leaving him when I handed him the second cup.

Placing my own on the low table, I sat down next to him, curling up my legs under myself and leaning into the cushions before breathing out slowly. Then I turned my head to look at him, my eyes flickering over his profile, and something tightened in my chest.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm fine.” Rhys' mumble seemed almost without thought, like it was just the thing he said, and something churned in my chest when I stared at him, feeling my brows furrow. Then I blinked, one corner of my lips curving gently when I whispered: “No, you're not.”

Rhys' eyes rose to meet mine, and I hesitated for a second. Then I pushed myself up into a crouch, and leaning forward, I could feel Rhys still when I slipped my hands over his shoulders to cradle his face and dipped my head to press a kiss onto his temple, my heart rising.

When I pulled back slowly, Rhys was staring up me, and I sent him a soft, cheeky grin.

“Don't get used to that.”

A breath left him, almost like the ghost of a laugh, and I smiled, dropping back into the cushions next to him and picking up my tea. Rhys' head rolled to the side, leaned against the headrest as he stared at me, and without looking at him, I gently bumped my shoulder into his arm.

From the corner of my eye, I saw one corner of his lips curve, just the tiniest bit, and something skipped gently against my ribs when I felt a smile push onto my own face. Snuggling into the cushions, I blew away the steam rising from my cup as I watched the rain roaring down outside.

It took a while until Rhys turned his eyes away from me.

It took some time until he opened up fully. But I didn't push it. I could tell that forcing his feelings down was how he had handled things for the past fourhundred years, if he needed time, he had it.

When he finally started to talk, it was like it broke down a wall. It spilled out of him, on a night in the garden of the new house in Summer I had found only a few weeks before, like a floodgate had opened. Like once he started talking about everything that weighed on him, he couldn't stop.

I just listened, feeling my heart tighten as I stared at him.

Something shifted that night, like some last barrier had been torn down.

Every time he crossed the wards of the house after, it felt like he dropped a mask he even sometimes kept up for his friends.

On most days, that meant there was no guard hiding his wide grin or the way his eyes lit up or how he laughed. For a while, he seemed free.

On some days though, he flopped onto the couch face first, no matter if I was occupying it or not, staying like that until enough tension had fled from his body for him to wrestle himself onto his back and close his eyes with a grumble. Sometimes, he talked, and I could see how the words flowing from his lips made his posture a bit lighter. Sometimes, he didn't, just grabbing my hand and squeezing.

Strangely enough, he wasn't the only one who found themselves opening up.

“Starshine?”

Turning my eyes away from the fairies chasing each other through the garden, chirping and giggling happily as the light of the moon made the flowers glow gently, I found Rhys staring at me. His eyes reflected the few stars twinkling in the sky as they dragged over my face, and one corner of his lips rose slowly.

“I don't think you ever told me anything about you.”

Something skipped gently against my ribs, my lips parting a little. But Rhys didn't seem irritated, more curious as his gaze moved over my face, like I was a marvellous, complicated riddle.

A small smile slowly spread over my face, and softly, I mumbled: “What do you want to know?”

Rhys' lips curved slowly.

“Everything.”

I huffed, raising my brows as something dipped in my chest. “That may take some time, you know.”

Rhys grinned widely, and my heart skipped gently at the twinkle in his eyes when he stared at me.

“I have all the time in the world, starshine.”

Feeling my lips curve and heart rise, I breathed out, turning my eyes back towards the garden.

For a moment, I was quiet, contemplating as my heart beat steadily against my ribs. Then I said slowly: “I've never met anyone like me before.” I looked over at Rhys, tipping my head lightly. “A Dark Faerie.”

The male's eyes flickered over my face, and a small crease formed between his brows.

“What about your parents?”

I grinned softly, raising one shoulder in a small shrug.

“I never met them.” Looking back ahead to watch the dancing fairies, I felt something warm pulse in my chest when I said quietly: “I was left in the moors when I was just a few days old. The faeries there raised me.” Blinking, I furrowed my brows gently before mumbling softly: “I've been everywhere.” Looking over at Rhys, I smiled, gentle and crooked. “If there still are Dark Faeries, they have moved on from here a long time ago.”

Rhys' eyes moved over my face, and his deep, warm voice felt like a gentle tingle tracing over my skin when he mumbled: “Have you ever thought about looking for them?”

I blinked, feeling a warm wave wash over me as my brows crunched and I slowly shook my head.

“No.” I stared at the faeries, my lips rising as that warmth in my chest fluttered, steady, certain when I whispered: “I know that this where I am supposed to be.” I dipped my head towards the small creatures that were giggling happily. “For them.”

Looking back towards Rhys, I softly raised one shoulder in a small shrug, frowning gently even as I smiled softly. “I'm the only thing that's left to protect them. From humans.” I raised a brow mirthfully. “Fae.” I blinked, the warmth in my chest rising when I whispered: “I think maybe that's why I was left here.”

Rhys stared at me, a light in his eyes I couldn't quite place. Then he blinked. “Is that why you keep moving around?”

I grinned lightly. “Partly.” Looking over my shoulder up at the house and its walls overgrown with ivy, furrowing my brows lightly. “All these houses – they just don't feel like home? Not really, anyway?” I threw him a look before shrugging and turning back around. “I don't know, I just can't stay anywhere for long until I grow antsy.” I felt my lips curve into a wide, crooked smile. “I guess I just – haven't found the place where I am supposed to be yet.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Rhys' gaze move over my face, and for a second, he looked like he wanted to say something. But then he just blinked, one corner of his lips rising.

Then there were the times I wanted to strangle him for scaring the living daylights out of me, even if he made my heart rise.  

Something clattered, and when I jumped and turned around, Rhys winced. “Sorry.”

My eyes widened when my gaze tracked over the exhaustion on his face, his skin paler than usual and hair an utter mess, down to his bare chest, tattoos swirling on his skin, and on his stomach -

“What –“

Rhys swayed and almost toppled over, and I cursed as I darted forward to catch him, my heart skipping high in my chest and my eyes darted over the stitches than ran all the way over his stomach.

“What happened?!"

“See; I knew you cared about me, love,”, Rhys mumbled, his voice rough and strained with effort, but he was smiling, wide enough for creases to appear in his cheek and his eyes to twinkle even through the obvious display of pain when he stared down at me, his slightly rattling breath hitting my forehead.

Something tightened in my chest, and I slipped my arm around his waist and whispered desperately under my breath: “How is it that even when hurt, you're insufferable?”

“It's one of my many talents.” Rhys grinned before groaning softly when he sank onto the couch, and I crouched down next to him, examining the stitched up wound on his torso. It was clean work, neat and professional, but I could tell the wound underneath was only half healed.

“Madja couldn't close all of it.” Rhys tipped his head back to rest it against the cushions, eyes half closed. “She was already drained when she got it to be like this.”

I blinked. Then I raised my head.

“Wait - You were so hurt that she was drained by the time she got you to this, and yet, you winnowed here without even being fully healed?” I stared at him with my lips agape. Then I hit his thigh with my elbow, feeling something skip harshly against my ribs when I widened my eyes at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Rhys winced and grumbled under his breath, but his lips curved like he simply couldn't help it when he cracked open an eye. His iris was twinkling like the stars when his gaze found my face, and his voice was rough when he mumbled: “Had to see you.”

Something in my chest skipped high, lodging into my throat.

Staring at him for a second, I then breathed out and whispered under my breath: “Stupid.”

Rhys smiled widely, and fighting against the way my own lips curved, I dropped my head and waved my fingers, the stitches dissolving into golden light as I started patching up the wound.

“Why didn't you just tell one of your friends to take you?”, I grumbled under my breath.

I could feel Rhys still a little, and when I raised my head, he was looking at me, a little sheepish, and almost a bit worried.

“What?” I could feel my brows softly with concern.

Rhys' eyes moved back and forth between mine, then he blinked and smiled, one corner rising gently.

“Because then I'd have to tell them about you.”

Something shifted in my chest.

I blinked before mumbling softly: “And that would be bad?”

Rhys breathed out. “No.”

I tipped my head to the side gently, looking at him in soft confusion even as something tightened a little in my chest. “Then why don't you want to tell them?”

One corner of Rhys' lips quirked until a small crease dug into his cheek, and his voice was a little raspy when he mumbled, eyes dragging over my face: “Because I'm selfish.”

My heart missed a step, and suddenly, something fluttered against my ribs, warm and breathily.

Rhys stared at me, his violet eyes tired but warm when he raised a brow, his soft grin becoming just a bit more crooked. “And I'm scared they'd steal you away.”

Suddenly, not smiling felt impossible.

Tilting my head, I felt my lips curve mischievously.

“Scared I'd like them better?”

Rhys breathed a smile, and something tipped over in my chest at the way his voice rasped a little when he mumbled: “Terribly.”

For a moment, we just stared at each other while something drummed steadily against my ribs. Then I blinked and sent him a slow, cheeky smile.

“Don't worry. You won't get rid of me that easily." I raised my brows. "Even though you clearly are stupid.”

Rhys huffed, but his tired eyes were twinkling like the night sky when he glared at me.

For years, it went like this.

Until one day - it didn't.

[anincompletelist]

[ vol i | vol ii | vol iii | vol iv ]

happy january friends! :D

there have been a crazy number of wonderful fics that I have had time to catch up on this month, and I've saved a few for next month's rec as well!

as always, please remember to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed the fic or show support in other ways, and be kind! mind the tags and if you come across something you dislike, please kindly (and quietly) move on.

this turned out to be a bit of a long one! I hope everyone has had a wonderful start to the new year so far, and happy reading y'all! <3

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it's a kind of magic | Jaistiel | E | 82k

Henry, the man who had asked if Alex's magic hurt him before asking if he used it for evil things. Henry, the man who seemed terrified of his magic, but also held a level of awe and wonder about it. Henry, the man who was likely scared out of his mind to share a tent with someone capable of the things Alex could do, but was offering anyway. "Alex." He watched as Henry's eyes widened with shock, his jaw dropping open just enough for his full lips to form a small, perfect 'o' shape. "If you're asking me to share your tent and your blankets, I guess you should at least know my name."

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you can see it with the lights out | weathersriley | G | 3k

"Alex thinks of the water. Of feeling like he might never reach the surface, might never reach Henry. But Henry is here; Alex remembers falling asleep in the glow of his presence, and beneath his shaking fingers, Henry’s chest is warm and his heart is beating steadily and Henry is here. Alex is afraid, but Henry is here."

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Dream A Little Dream Of Me | @affectionatelyrs | T+ | 9k

They’re no longer in the garden. There’s no grass, no flowers, no fireflies. Only stars—hundreds upon hundreds of them in an otherwise vast sea of darkness, dazzling and twinkling and here. “How—” “They came here for you,” Alex says, his voice light. “It’s what you desired. So, I asked them to come and shine. Just for you.” “But won’t the world need them?” Alex shrugs and simply says, “You need them more.” [Or, Five times Alex visits Henry in his dreams during his dark days, and one time he does so in the real world (and stays)]

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if I do not have (your) love, I am nothing | @read-and-write- | M | 9k

The church says that sin keeps you away from God. Your disobedience is to remain hidden and only admitted during confession. The greater the sin, the greater your penance should be, and God, as the loving God he is, will forgive you. Because God is love, and he’s the greatest expression of it. Love thy neighbor is the greatest mandate of all. Yet, when Alex loves, his love is seen as perverse, impure. The greatest sin he has committed was to fall in love with another man, who has lain by his side during countless nights. But when Alex looks at Henry, he finds nothing reprehensible, nothing unclean. Instead, he finds the truest form of worship held between his arms, trailing fingertips that climb up Henry’s spine as a litany of words spill out from his mouth. A room consecrated by each whisper of God’s name, said so reverently that no one would dare say they have taken His name in vain. [A character study of Alex, religion, divinity and love.]

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sea of endless hope | acastle | E | 65k+

Henry watches Alex, the man he adores and loves so ardently, and the moment is palpable, delicate, and yet too large for even the sky to contain. He watches Alex, and in that moment, he wants to be his husband, the ache and urge of it almost unbearable. “Daddy!” Nena takes Henry’s hands, and he looks down at her, the angel who had saved him, and he smiles at her, quiet with emotion, letting her lead him into place. He would follow her, follow Alex, anywhere. (Henry, Alex, and their daughter, and the first years of coming home, forever.)

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I wake up with your memory over me (and that's a real fucking legacy) | @coffeecatsme | E | 21k

The ski instructor stops in front of him, takes off his goggles, and Henry about stops breathing for another reason. “Hey,” Alexander says with a grin, his face distinctly lacking in wrinkles Henry was expecting from a renowned instructor. There’s a bright grin on his face that rivals the sun, rich brown curls spilling out of a red beanie, and Henry realizes he’s absolutely fucked for a whole other reason than his inability to figure out how to stay upright in skis.  [Or, the one in which Henry is hopeless at skiing despite his family's aspirations, and Mary hires Alex as an instructor to amend that.]

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Praise and Supplication | @nocoastposts | E | 3k

Alex is always moving, always going, always seeking. He is defiance and brashness tinged with anxiety, but not in these moments. Henry pins him down with a gaze as heavy as his touch, and all of Alex’s motions cease. He is calm, he is obedient, he is pliable. He knows he’ll be broken apart piece by piece, sending waves of heat deep into his core. [When Alex gets stuck in his head, Henry helps him let go.]

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Room for Rent (Sex Dungeon Not Included) | @everwitch-magiks | E | 19k

When Alex comes, he only knows two things: that he’s good, and that he’s Henry’s. And that’s all he needs to know. Alex’s housemate has a sex dungeon. It’s pretty much exactly what you’d expect; whips and bondage gear and a chair that looks like something a gynecologist would have use for. Alex, being the chill, sex-positive guy he is, is of course extremely cool with this. Totally normal about it. Enthusiastically supportive, even. But as Alex watches Henry invite a steady stream of men into his dungeon, he develops one tiny little issue with the arrangement: he desperately wants to take their place.

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stolen glances with a string attached | @wordsofhoneydew | T+ | 6k

Henry’s eyes widen, his body tensing up in sheer humiliation. That’s when he sees a sly smirk make its way to the man’s lips, and it only makes the embarrassment course through his body more rapidly, feeling all the blood rush to his cheeks. The man then spins around in his office chair, reaching for what looks to be a piece of paper and a pen. He scribbles on it for a swift moment before pressing the paper up against his office window. The paper reads, “TAKE A PIC,” written in sloppy, bubble-like handwriting just barely legible enough for Henry to read. The man grabs another paper and writes for a moment longer, this time reading, “JK” with a winky face. Henry cocks an inquisitive eyebrow in his direction, the embarrassment slowly morphing into curiosity as the man turns the paper over for Henry to read the other side. “ALEX.” [An AU in which two men fall in love through their office windows]

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two is better than one | @bigassbowlingballhead | E | 8k

“You’ve thought about being with two of me, baby?” Alex teases, “Are you sure you can handle that?” he smirks. “I can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind.” Henry says matter of factly. “Not that it’s even fathomable.” “What if it could be…”

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love left a permanent mark | @hypnostheory | E | 10k

Henry clears his throat and answers again. “I’m a bit nervous. About the needles.” “Thank you for telling me,” Alex says, voice dipping low. Henry wouldn’t move from his spot on the couch if the apartment was on fire. “People aren’t afraid of the needle. They’re afraid of the pain. But you’re not scared of that, right?” [Henry decides to get a tattoo. It comes with more than one kind of aftercare.]

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Grounded In Fact | @england-would-fall | E | 5k

When Georgetown grad student Henry's and Alex's flights home are cancelled for bad weather, they secure the last room at a nearby hotel. Henry Fox, facing the prospect of sharing a bed with his roommate/love of his life/friend he has never confessed his feelings to, enters into an epic state of Gay Panic (tm). Come on in and watch as Henry Who Is Experiencing The Greatest Tragedy Since The Burning Of Alexandria navigates this very real and not at all in-his-head crisis.

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kitchen confidential | @dumbpeachjuice | T+ | 4k

The NDA is approximately a mile long. “Jesus fuck,” Alex splutters. “What, is their favourite film The Menu or something? Am I gonna come out of this one alive?” [Or, the one where Alex is hired to cater a private dinner party for Prince Henry and his friends, and it does not go as he expects.]

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Newton's Fourth Law | dilfpickles | E | 26k

In which Alex meets his new very attractive roommate through Reddit, downloads Grindr, and discovers some things about himself and his roommate in the process.

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Knowing me, knowing you | phlebotinxm | E | 8k

It wasn’t like the thought crept up on him by surprise. It had come in waves, like white salty water spread upon the shore and leaving little bits of foam and dust for people to see, like an idea Henry couldn’t quite shake that seemed to bleed into every era of their lives. It stayed at the back of his mind as he got up in the morning, and pulsed against his temple when he fell asleep. [In which, upon discovering something he’d never imagined about his father, Henry realizes that he is ready to take the next big step in his and Alex’s relationship.]

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All the Lonely Starbucks Lovers | @kiwiana-writes | E | 5k

“That floor doesn’t look like it’s very comfortable on your knees, is all.” Henry leans forward, scooping out a piece of brownie that got under the counter, somehow. “I wouldn’t worry about that—my knees are quite used to it, I assure you.” A ringing silence follows this pronouncement, during which Henry focuses very hard on opening a trap door directly into hell with the power of his mind. [Or, five times Henry puts his foot in his mouth in front of his customer crush, and one time he puts his dick in his customer crush's mouth instead doesn't.]

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The Consequences (Of Our Actions) series | @anchoredarchangel | E | 78k+

"I sort of came out as bisexual to both Nora and myself when we were watching that fucking snoozefest of a Royal Wedding years ago, and I told her with no hesitation that you were on my list.” Suddenly, Henry looks very present in this previously one-sided conversation, eyes boring into him even if he sounds a little choked as he clarifies, “I was on-” “My No Consequences sex list,” Alex confirms brazenly, “Yeah." [Or: During an inadvisable spot of dating years back, Alex and Nora made a game out of making extensive lists of celebrities they could hook up with without it being cheating. One breakup and several years later, Alex meets someone on his list for the very first time at a charity gala and decides it's appropriate to tell him all about it.]

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Burnt Offering | justice fortheJ14magazine | G | 9k

He just needs to get through washing his hair. Simple. Except washing his hair has never been simple. It’s the polar opposite, actually. The more he thinks about the task set out in front of him, the more daunting and impossible it feels. His limbs feel like lead and the weight of the hot water pouring over him makes his head buzz. But Alex can do this. He’s done it before. A shower after a long lacrosse game or that one time he had the flu and had to stop three times to sit under the water and collect himself. He can handle a little finals week exhaustion. He has to. [Or, Alex’s hair care routine is elaborate, he struggles to let Henry help him, and he learns some important things about receiving love through service.]

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Ho for the Holidays | @whimsymanaged | E | 6k

“Listen, don’t worry about this,” Henry says quickly, already mentally crafting the passive-aggressive text he’s going to send Pez. “Better luck next year. I’ll just be off—“ “Hold your damn horses.” Alex stops Henry with a fast, surprisingly gentle hand to his wrist. His eyebrows furrow. “What did you put on your questionnaire?” Henry’s ears go hot. “That’s none of your business.” Alex scoffs and leans in closer. “Baby, we matched. It’s safe to say we have at least some interests in common. Be honest—was it because you confessed to having a secret desire to slap me?” [Or, Pez organizes an event called Ho for the Holidays, and these two idiots get paired up.]

--

see you all soon! :D

sarah / anincompletelist xx

[electronix-arts]

i have the urge to ramble so why not ramble about murder drones

i have many fears over episode 8, my biggest one being is that everyone is going to fucking die, and since im now considered the khan guy, why not talk about him (THIS IS SO LONG HOLY FUCKING SHIT)

ok so funnily enough, im prepared if he does drop dead in ep 8. people have teased me going “oh lol what if khan dies in ep 8” but little do you all know ive been prepared since ep 7 dropped, my wife has improved so much he’s bound to be sniped by liam. i’d be upset as hell and act like a wife who lost her husband at sea but i would not be too surprised if he is killed off

before it was confirmed ep 8 is the series finale, i was a s2 believer and i held onto hope that they wouldn’t kill khan because it’d make his character feel worthless. you see this man improve so much to be a better father to uzi and grow a pair to actually do something; to me, him dying would have made all of that useless, the hypothetical season 2 could have grown his character more if he lived, hell, maybe even show flashbacks of him during his ‘kill all humans’ phase. ep 7 shows khan has nowhere to go but up (or go insane, like the ep 8 teaser showed us)

but since season 2 is not real, i have to accept the fact that yeah, khan might die. so instead of being upset over that, why not speculate how he’ll fuckin die even though him being in the teaser looking batshit insane makes me think he’ll be a survivor. look at him. he will live off of pure adrenaline. anyways.

it’d 100% be a sacrifice, his apology for everything he’s done (which i fucking HATE i wanted him to grow more to become more redeemable to others not [death = hooray your sins are mostly forgiven] but i just gotta suck it up for now)

it’d definitely be for uzi or nori, make sense if he sacrificed himself for both of them [“Turns out, I’m not who either of you needed”] buuut i think it’d be more uzi focused. he was the one who raised her for the entirety of her life, actually tried to become better and changed his main focus to her and tried to help whenever he could after that, he would take a hypothetical bullet for her. it could even parallel to pilot when he left her for dead, now he’s the one dying and telling uzi to leave him so she can save herself and the others (it could even reference heartbeat where she thought he actually died, i don’t know how they’d do it, but yeah. i like that scene in heartbeat, i enjoy characters i love oh so much in severe pain.)

while i like this a lot, i would want khan to sacrifice himself for someone else more than his own wife and daughter. shocking, i know. i make my entire personality based off these idiots why wouldn’t i want a doorman family reuni-

n. if khan dies in ep 8, i want him to die sacrificing himself for n. i want n to be in horror at what has happened as khan is slowly dying in front of him, basically giving n his blessing to date uzi even though the entire planet is doomed.

it parallels nori’s disapproval of the relationship, shows that khan’s views on the dds (mainly n) have changed [killing machine -> bad influence on uzi -> someone who genuinely cares for her, someone who she needed] -and i guess nicely ties up the gift that is his redemption arc.

it makes sense for him to give said blessing, he’s seen how close uzi has gotten with n as well I’m pretty sure when he reunites with nori (plsplspls) after they calm down she’s definitely gonna be like “YOU LET OUR DAUGHTER “HANG OUT” WITH THE THINGS YOU SAW KILL ME” so that’d be fresh on his mind when he hypothetically drops dead.

also i’d feel like him sacrificing himself for uzi is like. too perfect or easily guessable, maybe they could hint “oh yeah khan’s def gonna die to save uzi & nori” when haha sike he’s dying to save the future son-in-law (if there is a future)

anyways that’s it. im bad at wrapping up things so here is what i call my conclusion. if you actually read this i love you so much you will be in my will

[iknowyuu]

hi again haha ! i wanted to ask you if you could write Sieun x gn!reader with that famous trend on tiktok « stop giving me those eyes. what eyes? » WITH SIEUN EYES WHEN HE LOOKS UP ( and maybe add like an attractive smile auzjekeidif ) something in public like they’re at a coffee shop idk PLUS SIEUN IS SUCH A TEASE

kdrama! sieun x reader

// read req!

note: this is like. the latest ive ever been LOLL, i hope ur well!!!! and that u enjoy!!!

daily click!

swinging your arms back and forth, you almost jolted when you felt a yank on your arm, the one that he was holding. looking at him, you questioned, "what's up?"

having known each other for years (and been dating for a couple of months now), you knew that in public he acted a certain way, and in private, it was different. home-sieun and outside-sieun were not the same person. you didn't mind- everyone had their different personas when with certain people- that being said, it's obvious why it's such a shock to witness him engaging in his 'in-private' antics when outside.

and so, every once in a while your boyfriend would break out of that double-layered-hardened-shy-shell of his with just a touch of cheeky-ness; something you could have never expected from someone like him.

"do you want a bungeo-ppang?" looking towards the stand that the two of you had just passed by. on the very off chance that your boyfriend would dare ask you for something first, most of the time the answer would be yes, but for once you felt inclined to respond with "hmm.. no, not really." you shrugged.

if you weren't a detective (or his partner) it would be hard to pick up on the way his eyes lingered on the side of your face when you turned your head back to face the dimly lit path of the park you were in, waiting for you to look back at him, urging you to notice him and what he really meant by his question. after a few seconds you looked back at him with a questioning gaze. "what?"

he didn't respond, only giving you a look. that look. his mouth tilted downwards in an almost unnoticeable pout, his head turned completely in your direction, and those eyes. those big, dewy brown eyes of his that held nothing but pure innocence- enough to give a new born fawn competition.

"stop giving me those eyes." you said, huffing as you felt your face warm up. you looked away towards the ground, unable to handle his affectionate gaze. he blinked at you, his gaze unmoving. "...what eyes?"

you stopped in your tracks and removed your hand from his, walking backwards towards the bungeo-ppang stand. he watched as you conversed with the vendor, looking as you handed them cash in exchange for the treat, and walked back over to him.

"here." you mumbled, urging the boy to take the treat from your hands. he looks at you before taking it, placing his soft lips around the warm treat and biting into it.

he chews and swallows, inaudibly sighing in content. "thank you," you captured his hands back into yours, interlacing your fingers. "you don't have to do that, y'know. you can just ask me. i'd do anything for you." you surprise yourself with your boldness, looking at the ground shyly, not daring to meet his eyes.

he doesn't speak, his cheeks turning red as he nods. "okay." he adds, biting into the food once more. "is it good?"

he nods, glancing at you. "can i have a bit?" he nods again, offering you an unbitten side of the treat. "that's not what i meant.." you say lowly before cupping his cheek, leaning in and placing a kiss on his lips.

it doesn't last long before he pulls away, looking away and at the ground. you chuckle at his antics and tug his hand. "red bean tastes good on you."

taglist (send an ask/comment to be added or removed!): @brxght-world @karyuliee @kkaesslovr @qtaisuu @midnightgyu @neteyams-wife @insomngyu @raybeomgyuu @woonierkiz @venus-fly-trap105

[whumpback-wail]

03 - More Questions than Answers

Trial by Fire (Wriothesley x Reader) - TW/CW in masterlist

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Her hair seems longer spread around her pillow like this.

Wriothesley mused, his thumb and index finger playing with her locks. After (y/n)'s panic attack, he was told that it's better to sit somewhere she can see him, and to have the lights on. The next time she wakes up, he would be able to ground and reassure her that she's no longer in danger.

His eyes watched the curve of her nose, and the lashes that twitched ever so slightly as she slowly regained consciousness. He stroked comforting circles along the baby hair that grows close to her forehead.

His heart seemed to skip a beat when he saw her eyes slowly open, blinking a few times before her eyes focused on him. She has such beautiful eyes, he mused to himself, but then felt a pang of hurt when she involuntarily flinched from him.

"Good morning, (y/n)."

"Wrio-" (y/n) coughed

Wriothesley grabbed the glass of water on the bedside and helped her drink.

After he laid her back down, (y/n) was dazedly blinking at him, as if she couldn't believe her eyes.

"A-am I dead?" (y/n) started, looking down at her body which was tucked underneath the blanket, a hand that wasn't held down by the IV went to touch her face, 

"Is this.. real?"

He took her hand in his and placed a gentle kiss on the back of it. "You're alive (y/n), and this is real. You're safe with me now, no one's gonna hurt you anymore, not on my watch."

(y/n) nodded, as if still processing his words.

Wriothesley wanted so badly to gather her in his arms and kiss her on her lips. She was all bandaged up, and her hair stuck up on some areas due to the pillow, but in his eyes she had never looked more pretty. He cleared her throat. The nurses would be against such actions, for fear that too much physical contact would trigger another panic attack.

"I should get the nurse, tell her you're awake." He stood up, lightly squeezing her hand. She only nodded, still eyeing him as if he would suddenly disappear into thin air.

Soon enough, the nurse came in. It was a middle aged woman with grey hair. She smiled at (y/n), "good afternoon, my name is Komaki, can you tell me your name?"

A pause.

1102.

"I'm... (y/n)"

Nurse Komaki smiled hearing her response, her eyes glued on her charts, "how old are you?"

"I... I'm not sure."

"Where are you right now?"

(y/n) paused and looked around. She could clearly see her room now that the lights are on. While it was clearly a hospital, it was not the same one as... wherever it was with doctor Arderne. She shivered.

"I-in a hospital?"

"Which city?"

(y/n)'s eyes locked with Wriothesley's, who had been silently watching from the doorway. He gave her an encouraging smile.

"Fontaine I think."

Nurse Komaki smiled, "very good!"

Turning to Wriothesley, she nodded to him. "I'll keep checking her memory, and I'll need to do a physical examination of her vitals and wounds. If you don't mind, sir?" She tugged at the privacy curtains around her bed. Wriothesley got the message.

"I'll go uh... walk around." He nodded at nurse Komaki, and promptly left.

(y/n) is awake at last. A new wave of nervousness swept over him. He was almost afraid of the results of her checks. What if she lost her memories? Her feelings for him and his for her? What if she had no recollection of the time they spent together? Chlorinde and Aether still couldn't find her vision aside from the metal bit, so what if...

He pushed the thoughts out of his head. In any case, he has some important matters to attend to.

• • •

Wriothesley rolled his shoulders, feeling a bit sore from sleeping on the couch for multiple nights in a row. He stayed there despite the urges from everyone, telling him to go home and sleep in his bed, only leaving occasionally to help with the investigation and get a quick shower. He didn’t mind the hospital meals. As long as it nourished him, he didn't care what food was served. The tea, however, was terrible, and he started to miss his office in the Fortress of Meropide.

Walking briskly, he found himself standing before Monsieur Neuvilette’s office doors, which he promptly pushed open. Neuvilette, who was seated behind his desk, nodded towards him in greeting, along with Navia, who Neuvilette hired to help in the investigation.

“So you had updates?” Wriothesley skipped the pleasantries, noticing the two’s somber expressions. He sat on the unoccupied chair beside Navia.

“Yes.” Navia handed him a file.

“We went back to the building where (y/n) was kept. As we all guessed, it was a facility used for human experimentation, under Dr Arderne.”

Wriothesley winced at the name. How could he not notice anything about the man? Arderne has been under his nose all this time in Meropide, that is… until he escaped and took (y/n) with him. But even so, he was a great Doctor while he served his sentence in Meropide, he was in his best behaviour that Wriothesley overlooked him.

Neuvilette leaned forward, “We also found some tapes and files on the things they do there. They have files for everyone, including (y/n).”

This made Wriothesley frown. “What was in it?”

Neuvilette and Navia shared a knowing look with each other, before turning to Wriothesley with sympathetic looks. Neuvilette gestured at the file handed to Wriothesley, “Hers was not complete, some data were taken by the accused party. But in general, they did… a lot of experimentation on her. Something no one should have to endure.”

Wriothesley opened the file and flipped through the papers, the voice of Neuvilette and Navia sinking to the background as he read through the pages.

Subject 1102.

Log 01

Subject 1102 is aggressive, and would not stop fighting the doctors. Despite the restraints used, Subject 1102 refused to take any treatment from the facility. She will be subject to two weeks in the padded room with one meal per two days to treat her aggression.

Treat. He knew it was another word for “to break her spirit”. Wriothesley gritted his teeth and continued.

Log 09

Subject 1102 was severely weakened after the padded room, but still refused to cooperate. Dr Arderne now personally handles her. He reports that for a higher chance of success on vision tests, the subject has to be physically weakened-

• • •

Returning to the hospital  his head swam with the new information. Navia said she will continue to investigate  but they would also need information from (y/n) and the doctors.

Damn the missing files.

He swore to himself that he would get to the bottom of this, hopefully without the need to ask (y/n) herself.

First he spoke with Nurse Komaki, who told him (y/n) didn't seem to have any brain damage, at least not on her memories. She thought this was weird considering how (y/n)'s vision was missing, normally people with their visions taken would lose their memories, their sense of self, and their drive to achieve what they wished for in the first place.

Other than that, her physical wounds were healing nicely. The melusine healers had done a great job at helping her recover.

He thanked Komaki, and proceeded to walk towards her room. Where he knew his fiancé was probably, hopefully, awaiting his return.

(y/n) wanted to go home. She never liked hospitals, and after what… happened, she felt herself hate it even more. She felt constantly on edge, especially after Nurse Komaki left to check on her other patients. The nurse did not say anything to her about her results, but the puzzled look on her face says a lot. Something is not quite right. Wriothesley was not back yet, but she knew he will return, right? She could trust him. If he said that she’s safe, and that this wasn’t a dream, then she should be okay, right? The walls felt like it was closing in on her.

It’s okay, youre safe now, breathe (y/n), breathe.

Despite her efforts, she felt panic rising. The feeling of the sheets against her skin felt too much. The ticking of the clock too loud. Why are the walls so white? Everything looked too bright. Pain. Pain. Pain. No more please- she couldn't let her thoughts drift back there-

The door opened, and Wriothesley’s figure appeared promptly.

(y/n) was not sure what expression she was making, but Wriothesley’s smile morphed into concern.

“(y/n), are you okay?”

“I- I’m safe, right? You trust this hospital?”

Wriothesley was instantly by her side, “May I touch you (y/n)?”

(y/n) hesitantly reached out and pulled his sleeve closer to her. Taking this as a sign, he brought her closer for a hug.

“You’re safe now, (y/n), your room is watched over by Navia’s men, remember? Spina di Rosula. They are very capable, and they will not leave their post unless told otherwise.”

“They’re not going to get me again right?”

Wriothesley kissed the top of her head. “Never. I’ll make sure you stay by my side, sweetheart.”

(y/n) froze. Sweetheart.

Deep breaths. You’re safe, it’s just Wriothesley, it’s not-

“Rise and shine, sweetheart” a kick to her ribs, “you’ve stayed in this boring old padded room long enough, don’t you think? Ready to cooperate with me now?”

“...Go to hell, Arderne.”

“Looks like you still have some fight left in you huh?” Arderne bent down and grabbed a fistful of her hair, "maybe some electro-slime therapy would work better-"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" (y/n) screamed, her leg connected with Wriothesey's stomach, making him stumble backward, wincing. Hearing the outburst, the two men stationed outside burst into the room. Wriothesley signalled to them that there is no danger  and the two went back outside. He made a mental note to thank Navia again later.

"(y/n)," he groaned, slowly making his way back to her, "it's not real, you're safe."

He watched her helplessly as she continued to hyperventilate, her eyes glued on to jim but ay the same time, seeing nothing. She' having another flashback, but why? Was it something he said?

"Sweetheart-"

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she curled further into a ball, shivering.

"I- Please no more. I can't-"

It finally clicked. So they had been calling her sweetheart there huh… Wriothesley felt anger bubble up. It was how he always called her, a term of endearment. How dare they taint that.

He took another step closer, "(y/n) please come back to me. It's Wriothesley. You're in Fontaine's hospital, guarded by the Spina di Rosula. You're safe here with me."

Blue eyes met hers, and he noticed how her eyes seemed to slowly focus back on him. He took that as a good sign.

"Yeah, no one will hurt you anymore. I promise."

A few seconds of silence.

"...Wriothesley?"

"Yes darling, it's me."

"I'm… what?"

"You had a panic attack (y/n), you were screaming," Wriothesley took another step. "May I come closer? Please?"

(y/n) silently opened her arms for a hug  and Wriothesley took the invitation as a yes. "I'm sorry Wrio, I don't know what happened." she mumbled against his chest.

"Sshh don't be," he kissed her forehead, "it' not your fault okay? Your brain is just having some horrible flashbacks."

A few moments of silence fell over the two, with Wriothesley rubbing comforting circles on her shoulder.

(y/n) hesitated. "can you… stay with me for the night? Like this?"

"Of course, anything for you, love." Wriothesley shifted them both so that they both could fit comfortably in the small hospital bed. Rules be damned. He wanted to make sure (y/n) feels safe through the night.

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(´-ω-`( _ _ )

A/N

A long one this chapter, it was one of those moments where I start writing with a plan A in mind but the characters decided plan B. For now it's just everyone being confused, but there will be more answers in the next chapter!

Taglist: @almosteggs @quuela @tempest1art @yamanaka13-blog @arseneumbra @kimmeaahh @cottonfluffs @randomidk-123 @applejayee @keigo-hawks-takami-simp @mechanicalbeat1 @aribae14 @bforbiblio @supernerdycookietrashblr

[sempsimps]

mychael and reader

i love mushroom oasis the vibe as a whole and the aesthetic i love it so much. and of course the mushroom boy mychael himself, and day 2 got my thinking about things, so i think i got the character right maybe and this is probably my shortest fic but the most wholesome a little context is that my version of the mc is that the reason they don't go outside much is hay fever and they miss doing stuff becuse their parents didn't let them out much so when they go out with mycheal in day two the get a new excitement to being outside.

tags:

taking a hay fever tablet/pill

the fluffiest fluff you could ever imagine

obviously this game is 16+ i believe so if your not that age tf you doing here

but this is so safe a baby could read it but don't becuse swears ig

the sun bleared onto my face my eyes slowly twitch and i stretched my limbs my hand knocking into skin and somthing fell on my face lightly and my eyes flutter open a tiny bit obscured by green and blue thing on my face.

"ah, sorry firefly i didn't mean to drop that on you"

"mh its okay i'm sorry for falling asleep and... on your lap it seems"

mycheal picked up the thing that landed on my face and i slowly sat up, yawning while rubbing my eyes to rid the tiredness. i looked towards mychael he was making a flower chain using the forget me not's, it looked pretty the blue was a lovely colour. he finished the last part of it and placed it on my head it fit quite nicely and was right above my ears resting.

"aw thank you mych"

i brightly smiled at him before i stood up and stretched with a satisfying click in my back and shoulder yawning briefly.

"by the way how long was i out for?"

mychael looked up at the sky and hummed, figuring out how much the sun moved.

"about an hour firefly"

"huh okay, best nap I've ever had"

i looked around i miss being outside, as i kid my parents never really let me out and i had the urge to climb a tree. 'ah that one looks easy enough' running over to the stump of the tree, i skipped onto the lowest bit that stuck out it was close to the ground using it to reach a big branch that was sturdy and i hoisted myself up, using the tree trunk as a foot hold doing so i got up to where my elbows were parallel to the branch but my foot slipped and chipped some bark of causing my balance to faulter and my arms wrapped around the branch to stop myself from falling off. 'shit' my feet dangled and i struggled to get them back on the tree trunk as i wasn't very strong.

"firefly what are you doing? ah! let me help you get down"

i felt hands on my waist and i stopped kicking my legs he was trying to pull me down but i used that to get up into the tree, i now sat on it crossed legged

"thank you!"

"what are you doing firefly?"

"tree"

"i can see that but why?"

mychael tilted his head confused, which soon turned to worry as i stood up on the branch and held my arms out to keep my balance, while mychael was panicking beneath me. i just laughed and sat on the branch near the tip. my legs locked over, it wobbled a little as i hung backwards over the edge. i was upside down so my shirt fell a little and the crown slipped off 'damn i was hoping that stayed on' i was now face to face with mychael my hand went out to boop him on the nose.

"hiya, boop!"

"firefly you need to get down, you could get hurt"

his voice clearly had worry in it but at that i started to swing my body and tried flipping forward onto my feat, but ended on my back. luckily the ground wasn't too far away and i landed in the flowers and grass a little winded but okay 'ow fuck that hurt'

"firefly! are you okay that was quite a harsh landing, i told you to be carful. you've winded yourself"

i laid there for a second and mychael was quick to my side and helped me sit up slowly with, a careful hand on my lower back and arm. i just softly giggled.

"well that was fun."

"that was dangerous not fun, hey! take it easy firefly"

"blah come on, ive missed the outdoors let me have some fun, oh by the way is there a river near by? this weather is boiling"

"okay then.... yeah lets go i need a drink, but a are you sure your okay i know that fall wasn't high but still"

i didnt have time to respond becuse i sneezed and my eyes were getting itchy from the grass and pollen 'ah damn hay fever' reaching over to where the flower crown landed and i put it on mychael's head although a little crooked.

"i made this for you, why are you giving it to me?"

"oh im allergic to pollen and my eyes are getting bad. anyway! where is this river you said there was, lets go"

"wait your allergic? isnt that a bad thing?"

"yeah ill talk about it on the way"

he nodded and mychael lead me to a path to the right of where we were, slowly walking to he river. i told him what hay fever was.

"so basically I'm allergic to grass and pollen, and many people have that and its called hay fever. it can causes various things like a runny nose, red or itchy or swollen eyes, coughing and sneezing, so its like a cold but for like half of the year."

"that sounds awful...."

"yeah but luckily i dont have it that bad compared to others, like i just sneeze and get itchy eyes which hopefully will be solved by some fresh water and one of my tablets"

i always kept a packet of tablets on my person just in case, and luckily i didnt forget to have them with me when i left the house to find my cat, and they were quite secure in my slim pocket.

"tablet? that's a type of medicine right?"

"yep, very useful in this day and age for anyone really"

continuing to walk with the living mushroom towards a water source to hopefully keep down the uncomfortable allergy and maybe have some fun in the river, like throwing stones or somthing 'oh that sounds fun ill do that' soon i could hear the water, and mychael moved a bush out of the way.

"okay firefly, we're here"

"nice. this should help a lot haha"

walking over to the water i sat down and popped open the packet putting one in my mouth, and then swiftly cupped my hands and drank the water to get it down me, i swallowed it to get rid of any thoughts, as it was hard for me to take pills. afterwards i stood up and walked along the rivers edge slowly, coming up to a big boulder to sit on. it was partly in the water it made a nice effect in the flowing liquid and i was feeling better by the second.

"that should do it, and maybe I'll climb another tree"

"absoulutly not"

mychael gave a small sigh from behind me, not opting to sit on the large rock but instead sat besides it, near the side of the river. and i laid back taking in the pretty blue sky with minimal clouds. taking a deep breath in 'I'm gonna need more of those during the summer.... he might not like it but i rather not feel dead'

"hey.... mychael i'm running out of the tablets ill need them if im going to live with you out here"

"you want to live with me?"

"yes absolutely! i wouldn't have to pay taxes, and well society sucks"

"that's great! but what are taxes?"

"don't worry about it, but i need those pills other wise i might be really sick forever, becuse of the pollen and like its April now and only going to get worse over the summer"

"we can go get them now?"

"if you help me get some stuff from my house, as well as getting those pills, and i know you might not want me to leave- wait for real?"

i stood up quickly and stood over in shock as i held out a hand for mychael which he accepted standing up as well.

"are you sure i was thinking you'd get possessive and worry i wouldn't come back in like an hour"

"what? that's dumb you need that medicine, so why wouldn't i let you get them?"

"oh right..... god why did i think that? that was dumb! anyway we should get my meds"

i laughed at my overthinking brain and mychael joined in. and started walking in a direction and i quickly followed happily 'living in the forest sounds like the best thing ever'.

okay so i dont know how to end this one so there we go im so happy i finally got this out of my head its been stuck there for ages and now its out also thanks you to my friend who gave me motivation to finish this for them as a token and introduction into tumbler.

[byersbootyshorts]

Blood and Tears (S.R.)

When Spencer takes a bullet for you, you struggle to come to terms with what’s just happened.

Word Count: 1,773

Warnings: s9!Spencer, gn!reader, angst, fluff at the end, Spencer getting shot, reader crying, a lot of blood, hospital

this doesn’t really follow the canon episode but I don’t care

You were in the middle of a shootout with a potential unsub. Bullets were flying everywhere and you had no idea where any of your teammates were. You were shooting blind into the building in front of you with no clue as to what your bullets were actually hitting. You heard a shout behind you and instinctually looked around towards the source of the cry. A cop had been hit in the shoulder and was writhing on the ground. The sudden sight of the injured cop caught you so off guard that you almost forgot there were bullets hurtling towards you, until you heard someone shout, “Y/N, watch out!”

And that was when everything started to go blurry. The voice you heard was Spencer’s, warning you of a bullet that was headed straight for you. And now that same bullet was lodged in his neck. He lay bleeding on the ground in front of you. You felt like you were in a trance, moving in slow motion as you dragged his limp body behind an SUV. Spencer’s eyes drifted shut and his breath hitched.

“Hey, Spence, keep your eyes on me,” you said frantically.

You pressed your hand firmly against his wound to try to stop the bleeding but blood still seeped between your fingers and showed no signs of stopping. Spencer kept his eyes open for only a few seconds before he began to lose consciousness.

“No, no, Spencer. Do not shut your eyes. Please, Spencer, look at me,” you panicked.

But his eyes stayed shut.

“Medic! I need a medic!” you screamed at the top of your lungs. You knew you should’ve called for help earlier but you as soon as you saw Spencer fall to the ground it was as if your brain stopped functioning.

“Spencer, open your eyes,” you urged him. “Hurry! Over here!” you called to some silhouettes in the distance who you hoped were medics.

Eventually the medics ran over to you and lifted Spencer onto a stretcher. You held his hand as the medics carried him to the ambulance and didn’t let go as they hoisted him into the back of the vehicle and started speeding to the hospital.

Everything was moving so fast. You could barely breathe. Your whole body was trembling with fear, shock and terror. You tried to make sense of the events that had just unfolded but you couldn’t seem to clear the fog that was clouding your brain. You hoped with every atom in your body that this was all just a bad dream and that you’d wake up to find Spencer lying safely next to you.

But while you didn’t wake up, Spencer did. His eyes opened just a crack and he mumbled incoherently, but at least he was awake. For a moment you felt like you weren’t in a nightmare. You felt that maybe he’d just get up as if nothing happened.

“Spencer, I’m right here. You’re ok,” you said, squeezing his hand.

But just as you felt relief wash over you there was a sudden beeping of machinery.

“Pressure’s dropping. Pulse is threading. Starting a large bore IV,” one of the medics quickly rambled.

“Huh?” you breathed, unable to comprehend what the medic was saying.

“Agent, you need to stand back,” the other medic ordered you.

You moved to the back of the ambulance and sat with your head in your hands, rocking back and forth.

“Stay with me. God, please stay with me, Spence,” you mumbled to yourself.

It wasn’t long (although to you it felt like hours) until you arrived at the hospital. More medics opened the doors of the ambulance and swiftly moved Spencer onto a gurney. Once again, you grabbed his hand as he was wheeled through the tall glass doors of the hospital. You raced down endless hallways until you reached the door to the operating room.

“Agent, you can’t come in here,” a surgeon told you.

“But, I-,” you began, but in your mind you knew you couldn’t be in there with him.

“I’m sorry. We’ll do everything we can,” the surgeon said as you let go of Spencer’s hand and watched as he disappeared into the operating room.

You didn’t know where to go so you slumped against a wall and onto the floor in the hallway that led to where Spencer was in surgery. About thirty minutes passed and you didn’t move from your position. You had your head between your knees. You couldn’t think. Your mind was reeling, trying to make sense of what had happened. You had heard Spencer shout. And then all of a sudden he was on the ground with blood spewing out of his neck. And then it hit you. That bullet was meant for you. He had tried to warn you and then jumped in front of you.

Before you had time to process your new realisation you heard familiar voices coming your way.

“Y/N, you ok?” Alex asked, her eyebrows furrowed with concern.

 You looked up to see your team standing above you. All of them shared Alex’s worried expression.

“Spencer,” was all you could manage to mumble.

“We know,” Hotch said. “How long has he been in surgery?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered. Morgan leaned down beside you and helped you off the floor. You noticed the bandage around his arm. Still, your teammates maintained their concerned expressions.

“Hey, how about we go get you cleaned up?” JJ asked softly, holding out her hand to you.

“What?” you said, not understanding why you needed to be ‘cleaned up’. JJ grabbed your hand and for the first time you saw it.

You looked down at your hands and saw that they were covered in blood. Your sleeves were drenched red. You could only imagine what your face looked like considering you’d been sitting with your head in your hands. Your entire face was probably stained with blood.

Spencer’s blood. Not your blood. Spencer’s.

And that’s when everything came crashing down on you. The fact that Spencer had saved your life. The fact that he was in critical condition, fighting for his life because he took a bullet that was meant for you. The fact that you were covered in his blood. So much blood you couldn’t fathom how he could possibly still be alive.

Every realisation hit you at once and, for the first time, you cried. A loud sob escaped you and you almost fell to the floor before Alex caught you and pulled you into a hug. You were staining her clothes with blood but you didn’t care. You wept into her shoulder and she rubbed your back gently.

When you pulled away from her she said, “Why don’t you go with JJ now?” You did as she asked and followed JJ down the hallway, further and further away from Spencer.

It had been hours. JJ had helped wash the blood off you and got you a change of clothes. Once you’d started crying it had been hard to stop. Your body was alternating between sobbing and going numb. Different members of the team had come over and attempted to comfort you but you couldn’t concentrate on what they were saying. All you could focus on was the door that you hoped a doctor would walk through to tell you Spencer was out of surgery.

And finally, a doctor appeared.

“Spencer Reid,” he announced to the waiting room.

“Yes,” you said, practically leaping from your chair. The whole team crowded around the doctor.

“He’s stable.”

Every one of you sighed in relief. A tear rolled down your face and Morgan rubbed your arm.

“I knew that kid was a fighter,” Rossi smiled.

“Can I see him,” you asked, your throat hoarse from shouting and crying.

“He’s not awake yet, but yes, you can see him,” the doctor said.

He led you down more narrow corridors to a recovery room. When you entered you saw Spencer lying unconscious on the bed. His neck was wrapped with bandages and his face was paler than you’d ever seen it. But apart from that he looked no different than how he looked before being shot.

You darted across the room and pulled a chair over to the bedside. You laced your fingers in his and couldn’t help but cry again. Except this time they weren’t tears of sadness, but tears of relief.

You laid your head on the bed, your hand still holding his, waiting for him to wake up. You had no idea how long you’d been there when you felt Spencer’s fingers start to twitch against your hand. You whipped your head up from the sheets to see Spencer’s eyes slowly flicker open.

“Oh my God,” you sniffed.

Spencer turned his head towards you, trying to figure out where he was. When he finally got his bearings he smiled tiredly at you.

“Why are you crying? I’m the one who got shot,” he said groggily, wiping a tear from your cheek.

You let out a choked chuckle and kissed his hand.

“It’s kind of hard not to cry when you don’t know if the man you love is dead or alive,” you replied.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I’m alive,” Spencer smiled weakly up at you.

You stared into his eyes for a moment, so happy to see them open again. Spencer shifted in the bed slightly and winced when he moved his neck.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” you said, helping him readjust his pillows.

“Done what?” Spencer asked, as if it wasn’t obvious.

“That bullet was meant for me.”

“I’m not sorry,” Spencer said bluntly.

“Well, you should be,” you told him off. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Hmm, I’m not really in a rush to try it again. Once was enough for me,” Spencer joked.

“I’m serious, Spence. I cannot lose you,” you said, placing your hand on his chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too. That’s why I took that bullet for you.”

You took a deep breath and finally allowed your muscles to relax. You closed your eyes and took a moment to let all the stress of the past couple of hours drain from your body. When you opened your eyes again, Spencer was staring up at you longingly.

“Now, can you please kiss me because I want to kiss you but I can’t really move,” he said, pointing at his bandages.

“If you insist,” you smiled, leaning down gently, making sure not to move his neck too much. You placed your lips on his and tried to forget all the blood and tears you’d just endured.

[sweethartlullaby]

hi again! i really loved part 2 of the cheating scenario i loveee your writing! i think the breakup and make up idea is good, could u write it ? 🥹

word count: 1027 genre/theme: angst (ofc), new beginnings as always, imagine who you would like... find part i here find part ii here find part iv here sweethartlullaby ꕤ masterlist songs: can't go back - troye sivan (recommended by anonymous!)

He has anemones today. 

No yelling. Just wait for her.

He sits on the bench just outside of your apartment and he waits. It’s a Friday, which means that you’ll be home early, which is soon. He checks the flowers and makes sure that they aren’t wilting. He used to buy flowers for you early on, but after a while, he just stopped.

He got comfortable.

He hasn’t touched a drink in months but he still finds it tempting when you reject him. He has been in this exact spot for weeks now. Every Friday, he sits there and he waits for you to come back home, wishing that this time, you’ll look at him and hopefully speak to him. 

All the times he has done this, you walk past him and never come out again. He waits outside for an hour or so before he leaves the flowers on the bench and walks away. And every Friday, he tells himself that he has to try, that maybe this time it truly is different. 

He keeps checking the flowers, sometimes standing to stretch out his legs as he checks the time. It should be any minute now.

And then he finally sees you. 

You are walking slowly this time and he fights the urge to call you. He sits there and he wishes and waits. And then you do the impossible. 

You approach him and he is too startled to say anything. He just moves to the side as you sit and leaves ample space between the two of you. 

“What are they?” You murmur.

“Uhm,” He can feel his heart thump against the flesh in his chest. 

“A-Anemones.”

You only chuckle weakly.

“For new beginnings?” You finally turn to him and he has to keep it in himself to not burst at the seams.

“Yeah, the old man told me they were his wife’s favorite.”

“Did they break up too at some point?” You ask.

“Didn’t get to ask.” He places the flowers near you and retreats back to his own space.

It’s silent for a while and he can feel his hands shaking but he isn’t sure if it is because he is excited that you’re finally acknowledging him or because he’s too nervous for what you’ll say. 

“I keep all of them.” You suddenly say.

“Sorry?”

“They’re all, at least the alive ones, in my living room. You give so many that I have some in jars that I saved.” You laugh a little and he finds himself smiling as he fidgets with his fingers.

Silence again. 

“I thought you’d have lots to say, considering you’ve been coming here for a long time.”

He only nods slowly. He had so much to say before but now that he’s here, he can’t find the right words to blurt out. His silent stature now is quite a contrast to the thought that he would be on his knees, begging her to take him back. 

“So, do you?” 

“Hm?” He asks. 

“Do you have a lot to say?” Your eyes are glassy and all his nervousness has washed away. He just stares back and he finds himself lost in you. He has looked at you a million times, kissed you a hundred, and held you for longer. Yet he feels that he is looking at you for the first time again. He is just as drawn, just as enticed, and just as helpless around you. 

“I…” He takes a deep breath and he is about to speak when she bursts into tears. He can only stare for a moment. He doesn’t know what to do as you sob in front of him. 

“Why’d you even do it? Why’d you cheat?” He opens his mouth to speak.

“Why couldn’t you just break up with me like a man or tell me how you felt?” You beg and he shudders. He thought that you were better, that you had moved on from him. 

But you look so torn here now. And he feels so helpless, just like that night you told him to leave. He sees the tears in your eyes and he tries to stop himself from blurting out the tells of blame he used to say to himself each night. 

You pick the flowers and caress the petals gently. 

“You could’ve just left.” You murmur, shaking his core. You were right. He could have. So why didn’t he?

“I-”

“No,” His voice trembles.

“No, I…need to say this. I am sorry.” He looks right at you. He hopes that this reaches the both of you. He doesn’t want nights of torment anymore. And he knows, he knows it is unfair for him to ask for forgiveness, for so much from you. But he needs to hear you to say that you forgive him. 

But he doesn’t. 

You sob silently across him and he feels that it’s hours before he decides that he should leave. He wants to stay but your cries have died down and only the moon sits by with the both of you. He should let you be. This was a mistake. He shouldn’t have gone to see you. Maybe he is pressuring you too much. 

He stands to leave. 

“Stay.” You say.

He stops.

“Just stay with me for a while.”

He sits. 

“Just be here for a bit. I’ll probably still be mad at you tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, all the way until Friday where I’ll see you here again.” 

“And then I’ll be sad again before the cycle begins again.” 

He stays silent. 

“But I don’t want it to stay that way forever.” You say softly. The two of you sit there, with only each others’ breaths audible. He is trying to take in that you want things to change between the two of you. 

“And yet, I don’t know what I can change.”

You finally stand and he thinks that you’ve changed your mind. 

But then you say, “So I guess I’ll see you next Friday then.”

He looks at you with wide eyes and a small smile breaks out of him. 

“I’ll see you next Friday.” 

a/n: thank you so much for requesting again! i know that this one took a while but i'm off my break so i have less time! but i will still try to write a bit :( i also wanted to say please drop in the comments any thoughts you had about the fic! whether it's song recs you think fits well with this one, or who you imagined. i'd love to hear what you thought about it! hope to see you soon!

[gettinshiggywithit]

「ʜᴏᴍᴇ」

Scenario:- Chuuya helps the reader through a tough night.

Pairings:- chuuya x gn!reader (highschool au)

Genre:- comfort?

Type:- oneshot

A/N:- HEY THEREEE!okay yes ive been pretty dead on here but I promise that’s only because of school! Hope this piece isnt cringey and see yall soon!🥲

“Help”

Was all he got

11.52

Eight minutes to midnight.

And he gets this?

A cryptic ominous and yet terrifying message from his beloved.

He contemplates what he should do.Does he let you sleep it off or does he go to you?

He decides it’s too risky to let the former happen so he settles on the latter. He goes to you. He goes to you in the dead of night.

Chuuya Nakahara was by no means a stranger to the rather tricky art of climbing into someone’s room via their window,but when in haste anyone would mess up.

Nevertheless he climbed up,landed on your balcony and knocked three times.paused and then knocked twice.it was the little indicator the two of you had decided on to make sure you knew it was him and not some stranger.

He could see you from his place on the balcony.

you were bent over your phone,typing furiously,your feet crossed and on your bed.

You didnt hear him.

So he shoots you a text,

surely you’ll see it?

A simple

“Im here”

Your head shoots up and you dart to your window,pulling the almost transparent curtains back,you open the window-esque door and he steps right in. Sure he wasnt the biggest guy,but he was nimble and quick oh his feet.packing a punch capable of knocking out someone twice,no, thrice! His size. with an attitude that scared off bullies and a sense of charisma that could charm anyone,he was perfect.

But most importantly,he made you feel safe.

at home.

Something even your own house failed to do.

He opens his arms and you slowly walk into them,your hands wrapping themselves around his slender torso and holding onto him with a death grip.

As he began to rub your back and sway just a little you began to cry.

Tears streamed down your face and stained his hoodie but he didnt care. His shirt could be washed,cleaned or even replaced.But not you. Never you.

And when the sniffling crying and shaking lessened,he pulled away a little and looked at your face before slowly lowering both you and himself to the fuzzy blue carpet under your feet.

When he looked at your face he was met with puffy eyes a leaky nose and a sight which broke his heart.

He first felt anger then fear then concern as he tried to figure out what to do.

He wanted to end whoever did this but he needed you to be okay first.

For a senior in high school,he acted more like an adult than anyone you knew;other than your classmate kunikida,that is.

He took the end of his hoodie sleeve,made a little sweater paw and wiped your tears away,reaching into his pocket and pulling out his emergency tissues for your nose.

And as he was finishing up, he looked at you,with the softest gentlest look in his eyes,asking, “what happened y/n?”

You sighed heavily at that.

“I wanna go home…”

This statement took him by surprise!

But You were already in your home? Where else could there be?

If you could name a place,he made an internal decision to take you there where ever it may be,right then and there.

He could deal with your parents later,they both loved and trusted him like their own so it’d be a breeze.just as long as you were okay.

“But how-“

“You”

“Oh”

You held him closer at that,as if you believed he would simply vanish into thin air.

He too held you close,giving you a kiss on the forehead and urging you to go ahead and talk about it if you wished to.

“Its just that,im sick of everything…of home of school,of life,of needing to be happy! I dont want it anymore!i want peace i want calm I want home. Youre all I have only you and what if you get tired of me i wont have a home again.ill be alone alone alone alone alone alone alo-“

He listened to you with concern and then his hands went to your shoulders.

“Hey! Hey! Im not going anywhere and youre not going to be alone not on my watch!and definitely not off my watch!”

You sniffed at that.

“Promise?” “Please?”

And his only reply was to nod,the sincerest nod in existence.

“Thank you….”

You said as you brought your head back to his chest.

“Anytime love…do you wanna talk about it?”

“No….not right now….please ?”

“Sure,im here for whenever you need me.what can i do?”

“Please stay…i cant be-be alone….please?”

“Mhmm dont worry…m’not goin anywhere..”

“Thank you…”

“Always”

And so you sat there,just the two of you in a dark room past midnight.

He rocked you,hummming softly and when he realized you’d fallen asleep,he lay you down gently on your bed and places your blanket and favorite plushy over and beside you.

Be waits thirty minutes more and when he’s totally sure you’re out like a light,he leaves.

When you wake up you vaguely remember the previous nights proceedings and when he asks you if you’re okay,you nod rather embarrassed. He looks at you and gives you a quick peck before you both go hand in hand to your next class.

(He lets you hold his hand during class if you need it too❤️)

Tagging:- @diagonal-queen @kemis-world

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