#no fear we embrace the chaos

[sae-mian]

willing next year to be better

(template by @/sabattons on twt)

[hoshifighting]

Arranged Marriage — Hoshi x Reader

— Synopsis: In contrast to the tired old plots of arranged marriages where the couple can't stand each other, you and Soonyoung are childhood friends. It's not just like marrying a friend—no, no, actually, it is marrying a friend, no-frills and simple. — WC: 10k — WARNINGS: smut, fluff, fingering, oral (m. receiving), penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, choking, one single slap on the ass, hair pulling, aftercare, whipped!hoshi, hoshi teases reader until she almost cries for dick, mentions of alcohol, mentions of body fluids (cum, sweat), DIRTY TALK—prob the nastiest dirty talk i've written.

You knew this day would come. 

Growing up in a world where luxury, money, stock exchange, and business were the pillars of existence, arranged marriages were just another part of the cycle. Two patrimonies merging into one for the benefit of both families—it was a tradition as old as time. 

Some couples embraced the spotlight, showcasing their unity to the world. Others barely tolerated each other, living in separate homes to maintain a fake image. There were also those whose mutual disdain led to chaos both in their personal lives and in the family businesses.

When you saw Soonyoung in your home, dressed in a suit that clearly wasn’t his style, you felt a hurricane of emotions. His usual vibrant, carefree energy seemed stifled under the weight of the tailored fabric. You greeted him and his family alongside your parents, both of you a shy mess, but something in his eyes told you things might not be as bad as you feared.

“Hey,” Soonyoung murmured as you both found a moment away from the adults’ formal discussions. “This suit is killing me.”

You laughed softly, feeling a sense of relief. “You look... different.”

“Yeah, definitely not my usual style, you know me” he grinned, loosening his tie. “But I guess we’re both out of our comfort zones today.”

You nodded, memories flooding back of the two of you playing outside when kids, during business congresses, your parents inside discussing mergers and acquisitions while you and Soonyoung chased each other around the gardens. “Do you remember those days?”

“Of course,” he said, eyes lighting up with nostalgia. “We had our own little world, didn’t we?”

“We did,” you replied. “And now, here we are.”

“So, how do you feel about this?” he asked, shy, looking at your expensive dress, clearly set for tonight. “About us... getting married?”

“I’ve been preparing for it my whole life, I guess,” you said honestly. “But with you... it feels different. Less intimidating."

“I feel the same,” Soonyoung admitted. “I mean, if it had to be anyone, I’m glad it’s you.”

You smiled. “Maybe we can make this work. Find a balance between our lifes.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “We can create something new, something that’s ours.”

You looked at him, seeing not just the boy you grew up with, but a partner. Someone who understood the complexities of your world and was willing to navigate them with you.

You looked around your house, taking in the scene. Soonyoung’s family mingled with yours, coworkers from your parents’ firms exchanged polite conversation, and your and Soonyoung’s nephews were playing circles around the couch. 

The weight of the day pressed on your shoulders, a burden that didn’t match the elegance of the dress you were wearing for the marriage proposal.

Soonyoung’s eyes met yours, noticing your tense posture. “You’re nervous, aren’t you?” he asked softly.

You looked at him, sulking, and he recognized the same expression you had when you were eight. 

He leaned in, whispering, “Don’t tell anyone, but I brought a bottle of tequila. It’s in my trunk. Would you like some to relax?”

You stared at him in silence before nodding with an exasperated look, feeling like it was exactly what you needed.

“Did you bring a shot cup?” you asked, following him outside.

He stopped, bottle in hand, and you both laughed. Taking the bottle from him, you leaned against his car, opened the cap, and poured a generous shot—maybe a little more—straight into your mouth. Soonyoung watched, his mouth wide open in surprise. You handed the bottle back to him.

“Why are you nervous?” he asked, taking a swig himself, looking comically exaggerated as he did. “I’m the one who has to kneel and propose today. My heart feels like it’s about to explode.”

You both laughed like teenagers getting away with something forbidden, hiding behind his car.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you broke it. “Do you have the ring here?”

He looked at you and nodded.

“Can I see it?” you asked, your curiosity piqued as if he had a rare Pokémon card.

“Is that right?” he teased.

You made doe eyes and asked, “Pretty please?”

He smiled, pulling a small black box from his pocket and opening it for you. 

The diamond ring sparkled in your eyes, its brilliance captivating. “It’s beautiful,” you murmured.

Soonyoung nodded, grinning. “My sister helped me choose it. I originally wanted a diamond shaped like a cat, but she said that wasn’t appropriate.”

You laughed, the image of a cat-shaped diamond making you smile. “It’s beautiful, but a kitten-shaped ring sounds adorable. I would’ve loved that too.”

His grin widened, a small, proud smile lighting up his face as you both admired the ring.

Your moment was interrupted by Soonyoung’s mom's voice, echoing from the house. “Oh my god, are you already proposing?”

Soonyoung choked on his own saliva, his eyes wide with panic. The best thing to do now? Say no and face his mother’s scolding for showing the ring prematurely, or actually propose right then and there?

Before he could think it through, he found himself on one knee on the sidewalk, his heart pounding. You quickly hid the tequila bottle behind your back.

“Soonyoung, what are you doing?” you whispered, eyes wide.

“I... I’m improvising,” he replied, clearing his throat. “Y/N, will you marry me?”

The spontaneity of it all, made you laugh and cry at the same time, you needed to pretend you were actually emotional. “Yes, Soonyoung. Yes, I will.”

You barely noticed the sudden crowd that had gathered around you, they'd appeared out of nowhere, all eyes on the two of you. Soonyoung’s hand trembled slightly as he slid the ring onto your finger, the cool metal contrasting with the warmth of his touch.

You smiled nervously at him, teeth gritted. “Hug me,” you whispered urgently, your eyes darting to the tequila bottle that was precariously wedged behind your back. “Please, put the tequila bottle inside your car. It's practically shoved inside my ass.”

Soonyoung blinked, processing your words before a grin spread across his face. He pulled you into a tight hug, the kind that felt both reassuring and grounding. As he embraced you, he expertly reached behind you, his fingers brushing against the bottle. 

You could feel his body shaking slightly with suppressed laughter.

“Hang on,” he whispered back.

He managed to grab the bottle and discreetly slid it out from behind you. Still holding you close, he took a step back towards the car, opening the door with one hand and slipping the bottle inside. The whole maneuver was so smooth that you doubted anyone noticed the clandestine operation.

That moment eased the tension of the night, but the tequila hadn’t taken effect yet, and you knew you had to keep an eye on Soonyoung. His alcohol tolerance was notoriously low, and you didn’t want him to embarrass himself—or worse, get into trouble.

As the night wound down and Soonyoung’s dad started to lead him to the car, Soonyoung sulked, trying to resist. “I want to talk a bit more to my bride,” he protested, his voice slightly slurred. His words elicited good-natured laughter from both families, who were enjoying the unexpected turn of events.

You walked over to him, giving him a warm hug and patting his head affectionately. “It’s time to go home, Soonyoung,” you said gently.

He looked at you with wide, earnest eyes, the warmth in his gaze reminding you of why you felt less nervous than you should. Soonyoung had always been warm-hearted, and maybe that’s why you felt a sense of calm amidst the chaos.

As you pulled back from the hug, Soonyoung’s hand lingered in yours for a moment longer. “Promise you’ll call me tomorrow?” he asked, his tone earnest despite his tipsiness.

“Promise,” you replied, smiling as you squeezed his hand.

With one last affectionate look, Soonyoung allowed his dad to guide him into the car. You watched as the vehicle pulled away. Your parents approached, their expressions a blend of amusement and expectation.

“Well, that was quite a night,” your mom said, her eyes twinkling with delight.

“Yes, it was,” you agreed, glancing at your dad, who nodded in approval.

“You two make a good pair,” your dad said, his tone warm. “I’m glad to see you both getting along so well.”

Your parents were now expectant, believing you and Soonyoung were truly becoming a couple. And in a way, you were—just not in the conventional sense they imagined.

The next day, even though it was a promise to a drunk boy, you called Soonyoung in the morning. Like any typical business wedding, the preparations started swiftly, aiming to have the wedding happen as soon as possible. Today, you were going to choose the food and drinks for the event.

When Soonyoung arrived, he was all tidied up, but his face was clearly tired. You laughed a bit, “You look…”

He completed for you, “Fucked?”

You chuckled, “I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Long night,” he admitted, rubbing his eyes. “But I’m here.”

“Good, because we have a lot to decide,” you replied, glancing at the event agent who was discussing the dessert options.

As you both looked at the event agent, who insisted on adding superfluous things to the sweets—like a layer of gold—you exchanged amused glances. The agent was enthusiastically explaining the virtues of gold-leaf-covered desserts.

“Gold? For us to... poop?” Soonyoung murmured incredulously.

You stifled a laugh and leaned closer to him. “Can’t it be something more tasty?”

The agent looked slightly taken aback. “Gold leaf is quite a statement piece.”

Soonyoung nodded, trying to be polite. “But we were thinking of something simpler.”

“How about churros?” you suggest.

The agent blinked, clearly not expecting that. “Churros? For a wedding?”

“Why not?” you said with a grin. “They’re delicious, and everyone loves them.”

“But they don’t exactly scream luxury,” the agent protested.

“They scream fun,” Soonyoung countered. “And isn’t that what weddings are supposed to be?”

The agent sighed, making a note. “Alright, churros it is. Anything else?”

“Maybe some street-style tacos?” he added, enjoying the agent’s bewildered expression.

“Tacos?” the agent repeated, as if the word was foreign.

“Yeah, why not?” Soonyoung agreed. “Let’s keep it simple and tasty.”

The agent finally nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Very well. I’ll make the arrangements.”

Honestly, days flew by with Soonyoung by your side. Planning every little detail of the wedding together brought both fun and challenges, especially when your tastes didn’t always align. It was a bit complicated at first, like when you two were choosing the destination for your honeymoon. 

Soonyoung wanted an adventure-packed trip to the Amazon rainforest, while you preferred a relaxing beach resort in the Maldives. The negotiations were intense, but you eventually settled on a compromise.

Choosing Soonyoung’s suit also proved to be a task. He insisted on wearing a tie with a tiger print, a nod to his childhood love for tigers. You were surprised that his fascination with the big cats had persisted, but you drew the line at a tiger tie. “Absolutely not,” you told him firmly, trying to imagine the looks you’d get. “A tiger tie is a no from me, and I think a lot of people would agree.”

“Fine,” he conceded with a sigh, but you could tell he was already thinking about how to sneak a little tiger motif into his outfit.

When it came to choosing your dress, you were accompanied by your mom, Soonyoung’s mom, and his sister. 

Soonyoung, the only man in the group, tagged along as well. The other brides at the boutique initially assumed he was either your brother or your stylist. 

Their jaws nearly dropped when they overheard he was actually the groom.

One of the brides, adjusting her veil in front of a mirror, turned to you, wide-eyed. “Wait, he’s your husband-to-be?”

“Yes, he is,” you confirmed with a smile, watching Soonyoung fuss over a lace detail on one of the dresses.

Another bride laughed softly. “Lucky you! He’s so involved.”

“He’s been amazing,” you said. “Except for his obsession with tiger prints.”

Soonyoung, overhearing, grinned and walked over. “What can I say? Tigers are cool.”

“Soonyoung, you’re a unique groom,” his sister teased, shaking her head.

As you tried on dresses, Soonyoung offered his opinions with surprising thoughtfulness, balancing out his more quirky suggestions. He was genuinely invested in making sure you felt beautiful and confident in your choice.

You’d tried on everything: the biggest gowns, the tightest silhouettes, dresses with endless layers of skirts, and others that hugged your hips so closely it felt like they were molded to your skin. 

There were corsets that took your breath away—literally—and fabrics that shimmered under the boutique lights. 

But this time, when you left the dressing room, you were wearing a veil.

Soonyoung’s eyes didn’t lie for a second. He liked this one very much. The women around you—your mom, Soonyoung’s mom, and his sister—fussed over the dress, adjusting it here and there, offering compliments. But Soonyoung was speechless.

If Soonyoung were to be completely honest, up until this moment, he had always seen you as his friend, the girl he was going to marry because of an arrangement. You were the same girl who used to run around the events, eluding the security guards with your mischievous giggles. 

But now, you were different. You were a woman. His woman. And you looked stunning.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you. The transformation was breathtaking. You stood there, looking radiant in your wedding dress, and for the first time, the reality of the situation hit him. You weren’t just a friend anymore; you were about to become his partner, his wife.

He was so lost in the moment that he didn’t realize he was gawking until you and the women turned to him, waiting for his response. He blinked, snapping back to reality, and managed to find his voice.

“You look...” he started, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words. “You look absolutely stunning.”

Your cheeks flushed at his earnest compliment. “You really think so?”

Soonyoung nodded, still unable to tear his eyes away. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

His sister grinned, nudging him playfully. “Told you she’d find the perfect dress.”

Your mom wiped away a tear, “You’re going to make a beautiful bride.”

Soonyoung’s mom stepped forward, adjusting a tiny detail on the veil. “This is the one. It’s perfect.”

You looked at yourself in the mirror, feeling a sense of certainty wash over you. “Yes, this is the one,” you said, smiling at the reflection and then at the people around you who made this moment even more special.

[...]

The days leading up to the wedding were a whirlwind of activity. Every day brought something new to choose, and your creativity was running dry. You were worn out, and Soonyoung knew it. Today had been particularly exhausting.

As the realtor showed you yet another option for apartments in the Metropole, you responded with short answers, your enthusiasm long gone after visiting sixteen places that day alone.

“So, what do you think?” the realtor asked.

Soonyoung noticed your hesitation. “Can I talk with my wife for a sec?” he asked.

The realtor nodded and walked off, giving you space.

“Y/N-nie... are you okay?” Soonyoung asked softly, looking at you through his lashes.

You sighed, your shoulders slumping. “I’m so tired,” you confessed.

He took a step closer, his voice softening. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You breathed out heavily. “My family is putting a lot of pressure on me, and I’m working relentlessly at the company. I can’t wait for us to get married…”

Soonyoung’s heart sank a little. “You want to get married just to get free from it?”

“No, it’s not just that. It’s everything. The wedding preparations, the constant decisions, the endless work... I feel like I’m drowning.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand. “We don’t have to rush this, you know. We can take our time.”

“But everyone’s expecting so much from us,” you replied, feeling the weight of expectations.

“Let them expect,” he said firmly. “And I want this to be as much about you as it is about us.”

“I just... I don’t want to disappoint anyone,” you admitted.

“You won’t,” Soonyoung assured you. “You’ve already done so much. It’s okay to take a step back and breathe.”

You took a deep breath, feeling a bit lighter. “Alright. Let’s look at this apartment one more time.”

Soonyoung nodded, giving you an encouraging smile. “And if it’s not the one, we’ll keep looking until we find the perfect place for us.”

You laughed softly, the tension easing. “You always know how to make things better.”

“Just doing my job as your soon-to-be husband,” he said playfully.

Soonyoung was doing an incredible job. 

From what you’d heard from friends who had gone through the same situation, they didn’t have partners like Soonyoung. You felt proud of him. 

He was your rock, making sure you took a breath when you were overwhelmed by the slightest things. He even insisted you didn't move a finger during brunch, making you so relaxed that you found the apartment you’d been searching for on the very same day.

The drive home was quiet, the car enveloped in a peaceful silence that allowed you a moment to rest. You laid your head back as he drove, appreciating the tranquility. Once you arrived, you stayed seated for a bit, soaking in the comfort of the quiet.

Soonyoung looked at you, waiting patiently. When you finally looked up, he gave you a gentle smile. “Ready to go in?”

You nodded, feeling a bit more refreshed. “Yeah, let’s go.”

He stepped out of the car and came around to your side, opening the door for you. “Take your time,” he said softly.

You appreciated his patience as you slowly got out of the car. “Thank you, Soonyoung.”

He smiled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walked towards the house. “I’m just doing what any good partner would do.”

You leaned into him, feeling grateful for his support. “I don’t think everyone is as lucky as I am.”

He chuckled softly. “Well, I’m pretty lucky too, you know.”

As you entered the house, you felt a sense of relief. The apartment search was over, and you had found the perfect place. More importantly, you had Soonyoung by your side, making every step of this journey easier.

“So, what’s next on our list?” he asked, guiding you to the living room.

You sank into the couch, feeling the exhaustion of the day catch up to you. “I think a nap is next on my list.”

He laughed, sitting beside you. “That sounds like a perfect plan.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of the day lift off your shoulders. “Wake me up in an hour?”

[...]

The days flew by in a blur with the whirlwind of wedding preparations. It felt like only moments ago you were choosing flowers, tasting cakes, and finalizing guest lists. 

Now, as you stood at the end of the aisle, holding a bouquet in front of Soonyoung, the reality of the moment hit you with full force.

The weight of the dress and the pressure of looking perfect made your hands sweat like never before. You felt like a porcelain doll, perfectly polished and poised.

Soonyoung stood there, his eyes fixed on you with pride. He couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness. Here you were, a perfect woman by his side, and even better, an old friend he'd known for years. 

The familiarity of your presence brought him comfort. Despite the fact that you hadn’t really dated, the idea of having someone as pretty and cool as you with him every day made him feel at ease about the whole situation.

As you walked down the aisle, your eyes met his, and a small, reassuring smile played on his lips. He looked stunning in his suit, and the way he stood tall, waiting for you, made your heart flutter. 

You could see a hint of nervousness in his eyes, mirroring your own, but there was also a calmness there, a silent promise that everything would be alright.

When you finally reached him, he extended his hand towards you. He leaned in slightly, whispering just loud enough for you to hear, “You look amazing.”

You blushed, your nerves momentarily forgotten. “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.”

The vows were sincere, filled with heartfelt words that spoke more to your shared friendship than any romantic notion. Both of you couldn’t help but giggle as you remembered all the crazy things you’d done together as kids. 

Your minds flashed to the time you stole sweets from an event or when you both jumped into a water fountain during an important dinner with company directors.

As the officiant declared you husband and wife, all of these memories became a sweet reverie. You leaned in and whispered with a playful glint in your eye, “Are you going to kiss my lips or my cheek?”

Soonyoung blushed, clearly caught off guard by the question. A kiss on the cheek was typical in such moments since most arranged couples didn’t share a romantic bond. He stammered for a moment, his face flushing a deep shade of pink.

“Well… uh… I suppose the cheek would be safe,” he mumbled, eyes darting nervously.

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, leaning closer. “But where’s the fun in that, Soonyoung?”

He looked at you, his eyes widening slightly. The playful challenge in your gaze gave him the courage he needed. With a deep breath, he moved in, his hand gently cupping your face.

“I think I’ll go for the lips,” he whispered back, his voice steadying.

The crowd held its breath as Soonyoung leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, tender kiss. It was a simple kiss, not passionate, but filled with the warmth of years of friendship and the promise of a shared future. The applause that followed was thunderous, but all you could focus on was the feeling of his lips against yours.

As you pulled away, you both wore matching grins. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” you teased,

He laughed, shaking his head. “Not bad at all. Actually, it was kind of nice.”

You linked arms, turning to face the crowd together. Your parents looked relieved and proud, while your friends were cheering loudly, clearly entertained by the spectacle. Soonyoung’s eyes met yours again, and there was a newfound spark there, full of possibilities.

As you both shared champagne with your parents, Soonyoung playfully asked, "No tequila tonight?" You were about to respond when his mom's voice cut in, "Tequila?"

Soonyoung’s eyes widened, and his mouth twisted into a frown as he tried to suppress his laughter. You quickly improvised, "Huh, h-he meant... tacos! We had tacos with tequila last time, remember?" You forced a smile, hoping it sounded convincing enough. His mom seemed satisfied with the answer, nodding along.

After mingling with guests—aka talking with people from work about the next meeting—you finally found a moment to escape the spotlight. You and Soonyoung crouched behind the kitchen, hiding from the crowd. The chefs chuckled at the sight of the newlyweds sneaking bites of food, but they made sure to hand you the best eats, knowing how overwhelming the day could be.

Soonyoung grinned, playfully nudging you. "We're so used to doing this at parties that we're practically pros now."

You nodded in agreement, a mischievous smile on your face. "Even though it's our own wedding party," you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

He chuckled, looking at the gold ring on your finger with a sense of wonder. "Our wedding... I still can't believe it. Oh my god, we're grown adults now."

You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching out to pat his head mockingly. "We've been grown adults for... kind of a long time already," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, then leaned in closer, his voice softening. "Yeah, but it feels different now. Like, we're really starting something new."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. It was true. The reality of your situation was sinking in, but in a way, it felt comforting. You had each other, and that made everything seem a little less daunting. As you sat there, hidden away from the chaos of the celebration, it struck you how much you appreciated this moment—just the two of you, stealing away for a breather.

“Shall we follow tradition?” Soonyoung asks, a playful glint in his eyes. You frown, confused, as he reaches into the fridge and pulls out a bottle of tequila.

“Should tequila be kept in the fridge?” you ask, laughing at the sight.

“I hope so,” he replies, pouring the liquid into a cup. “This one is expensive.”

You raise an eyebrow, taking the cup from him. “The cheapest has the same effect,” you say, waiting for him to pour his own.

He chuckles, raising his glass. “But today’s a special day. We deserve the good stuff.”

You laugh it off, crossing your arms before taking the shot together. The familiar burn makes you both scrunch up your faces.

The wedding party was truly one of a kind. You and Soonyoung were a bit too excited, turning the waltz space into a wild dance floor. 

At first, your parents were too embarrassed to join, especially at the sight of Soonyoung twerking on you. But soon, even the directors and business partners were on the dance floor, dancing and drinking extravagantly.

[...]

The next morning, you and Soonyoung were woken up by the buzzing of your phones. 

Your makeup was smudged and stamped on the pillow, and you were still in your wedding dress. You scratched your scalp, feeling the bobby pins still tangled in your hair. 

Soonyoung was no better; his shirt was unbuttoned to his belly button, his tie was loosened around his neck, and his hair looked like a bird's nest. He scratched his forehead groggily. Despite sharing the same bed, you both seemed unbothered by it.

You grabbed your phone and saw the company group chat flooded with messages:

“Wow, last night was incredible! Congrats to the newlyweds!”

“I can't believe we all danced that much! My feet are killing me. :')”

“Best wedding party ever! So happy for you guys!”

“My head is pounding, but it was totally worth it. ^^ Cheers to you both!”

“I’m still recovering from all that dancing. What a party!”

“Never thought I’d see the CEO breakdancing. ㅋㅋㅋㅋ”

You couldn't help but smile at the messages, as Soonyoung peeked over your shoulder, a sleepy grin spreading across his face.

“My head hurts,” Soonyoung complains, rubbing his temples.

You adjust the corset of your dress, feeling the tightness around your ribs. "My ribs are squeezed," you grumble, wincing as you try to get comfortable. "I can't believe I slept in this."

He yawns, glancing down at your leg. "You even kept the garter on," he points out, noticing the delicate band still around your thigh.

You crack your neck, feeling the weight of the long night. "Your sister gave it to me, so I put it on," you explain, lifting the voluminous skirt to reveal the bridal garter.

His eyes widen comically. "My sister?! Is there something I don't know?"

You frown at him, a bit confused. "You don’t know about the tradition?"

Soonyoung looks a bit lost, scratching his head. "I mean, it’s my first time getting married."

You sigh, laying back down. "Traditionally, the groom is supposed to take it off when... taking the virginity," you explain, watching his face turn a shade of pink.

His eyes dart around nervously, processing the information. "So... my sister thought I was... a virgin?"

You shrug, teasing, "Probably. Are you?"

He laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Definitely not. And you?"

You raise an eyebrow, smirking. "Nope. Sorry to disappoint."

He chuckles, finally relaxing. "Good to know. Not that it matters, but... it's funny to think about how everyone just assumes stuff."

“Are you going to take it off?” you tease, stretching your leg up and wiggling your foot playfully. Your eyes glint mischievously as you watch Soonyoung’s reaction.

He scoffs, but a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “What, you mean right now?” His eyes flicker to your thigh, then quickly back up to your face, trying to gauge if you’re serious or just messing with him.

You arch an eyebrow, maintaining your playful expression. “Why not? It’s tradition, right? Don’t you want to fulfill your husbandly duties?” You stretch your leg out further, making the garter more visible.

Soonyoung chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable,” he mutters, but there’s a sparkle of joy in his eyes. He reaches out hesitantly, his fingers brushing lightly against your thigh. The touch sends a shiver to your skin, and you can’t help but giggle.

“What’s the matter?” you prod, your voice dripping with mock innocence. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

He rolls his eyes, trying to suppress a laugh. “Not at all,” 

You bute your lip as his fingers graze the lacy fabric of the garter. His touch is feather-light, almost ticklish, and you squirm a bit under his hand.

Soonyoung smirks, clearly enjoying your reaction. “You’re squirming,” he notes, his voice low and teasing. “Does that mean you’re nervous?”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Me? Nervous? Please,” you retort, trying to sound confident despite the rapid beating of your heart. “I’m just surprised you’re taking so long. I thought you’d be an expert at this.”

He chuckles, sliding his hand a bit higher up your thigh, his thumb brushing against your skin in slow, deliberate strokes. “Oh, I am,” he replies smoothly. “Just savoring the moment.”

“Well, don’t take too long,” you murmur, your voice softening slightly. “We wouldn’t want to miss out on any other wedding traditions.”

Soonyoung grins, his fingers hooking under the garter. “Right, can’t forget those,” he says, his voice tinged with a hint of naughtiness. 

He gently tugs on the garter, slowly sliding it down your leg, his eyes never leaving yours. 

As he finally slips the garter off, he holds it up triumphantly, a goofy grin on his face. “There, tradition fulfilled,” he declares, waving the garter like a trophy.

You laugh, shaking your head at his antics. “Congratulations,” you say, clapping mockingly. “You’ve successfully removed a piece of elastic lace. Truly, a remarkable achievement.”

He bows dramatically, playing along. “Thank you, thank you,” he says, flashing you a cheeky smile. “It was a tough job, but someone had to do it.”

You can’t help but laugh, the light-hearted banter making the moment feel even more special. Soonyoung’s hand lingers on your leg for a moment longer before he finally lets go.

As Soonyoung gets up, stretching his arms with a yawn, he announces, "I'm going to take a bath." He heads towards the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

You sit up, still feeling the effects of last night's festivities, and shout after him, “Ya! Ladies first!”

From behind the closed door, you hear Soonyoung's laughter echo in the bathroom. “Sorry, didn’t hear you over the sound of me already starting the water!” he calls back, his voice filled with playful defiance.

You shake your head, smiling to yourself. It’s these little moments that make everything feel so natural and easy with him. After a few minutes, you hear the sound of running water stop, and Soonyoung emerges from the bathroom, his hair damp and a towel wrapped around his waist.

“All yours,” he says, grinning. “I left some hot water for you, too.”

You roll your eyes playfully, grabbing your toiletries and heading into the bathroom. The warm water is a welcome relief, washing away the remnants of makeup and the night's events. After a quick shower, you step out feeling slightly more human, though the hangover still lingers.

As you both finish getting ready, the thought of breakfast crosses your mind. However, just the idea of food makes your stomach churn. The hotel's breakfast spread is typically lavish, but today, the thought of greasy bacon and pastries is anything but appetizing.

Soonyoung, dressed in a casual outfit, catches your expression as you look at the food options. “Yeah, not feeling it either,” he says, rubbing his temple. “Let's skip it.”

You nod in agreement, both of you opting for just a coffee to stave off the worst of the hangover. With minimal conversation, you gather your belongings, checking out of the hotel and heading straight to the airport.

But one thing you definitely didn’t expect was Soonyoung falling asleep on your shoulder within the first thirty minutes of the flight. His head rested heavily against you, and his hand, seemingly by accident, was placed on your thigh. 

As he softly snored, you couldn’t help but chuckle at how comfortable he looked. Anyone passing by would probably think you two were an old married couple, so naturally attuned to each other.

His head's weight pressed down on your shoulder, a constant reminder of his presence. Every now and then, you felt him subconsciously moisturizing his lips, a small, almost imperceptible movement that somehow made the moment even more cute.

You glanced at the small TV screen in front of you, trying to focus on the movie playing. It was a romance novel adaptation, the kind with sweeping gestures and grand declarations of love.

Normally, you might have rolled your eyes at the cliché, but with Soonyoung sleeping peacefully beside you, it felt oddly fitting.

As the plane cruised through the sky, you found yourself getting lost in the storyline, occasionally glancing at Soonyoung. His breathing was steady, a gentle rhythm that added to the soothing hum of the plane. 

You shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable without disturbing him, but his hand tightened instinctively on your thigh, holding you in place. It was a small, protective gesture that made your heart flutter.

What you loved the most was when Soonyoung finally woke up, blinking sleepily and then immediately apologizing. "I'm so sorry," he repeated, his face flushed with embarrassment. You chuckled, assuring him it was okay, that he had every right to rest. He seemed genuinely mortified, even offering, “You can sleep on my shoulder too, I promise.”

You smiled at his earnestness, brushing it off with a light, “Maybe on the way back, then,” as the announcement came that you were about to land.

Once you arrived, Soonyoung was quick to grab the suitcases from the taxi, his efficiency a comfort as you made your way to the hotel's check-in counter.

The concierge’s eyes seemed to linger on you a little too long, his gaze sliding over your sundress and perhaps admiring more than just the attire. 

As you waited for the receptionist, the concierge leaned casually on the counter, offering a friendly, yet slightly flirtatious, smile.

“First time here, ma’am?” he asked, his tone smooth and inviting.

“Well, yes...” you replied, keeping your voice polite but detached. You could feel the weight of his attention and tried to subtly stretch your hand, making sure the gold ring on your finger was clearly visible.

The concierge didn’t seem to get the hint, or perhaps he chose to ignore it. “You’re in for a treat. We’ve got some wonderful spots for—”

Before he could continue, you felt Soonyoung's presence behind you, a comforting warmth at your back. His body pressed lightly against yours, a subtle yet possessive gesture that didn’t go unnoticed. His hand slipped around your waist, resting just below your belly, the touch gentle but unmistakably protective.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Everything alright?” he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity and a subtle edge.

You could almost feel the shift in the air. The concierge straightened up, his expression flickering between surprise and a polite smile. “Oh, just making sure your stay is perfect,” he said, his tone now more professional, eyes darting between you and Soonyoung.

“Thank you,” Soonyoung replied, his voice steady. His hand didn’t move from its spot on your belly, and the slight squeeze he gave was enough to send a clear message. You leaned back into him, feeling a rush of warmth at his silent claim.

The receptionist finally returned with your room keys, handing them over with a bright, “Welcome to our hotel! We hope you enjoy your stay.” With the keys in hand, you and Soonyoung made your way to the elevator.

As the doors closed, sealing you both from the world outside, you turned to Soonyoung with a smirk. “Looks like someone’s a little possessive.”

He grinned back, a playful glint in his eyes. “Just making sure everyone knows you’re taken.”

You tease him back with a playful smirk. “Well, it’s just a business marriage. You shouldn’t worry about stuff like that,” you say, your tone light and slightly mocking.

Soonyoung scoffs, turning his gaze to the side with a dramatic sigh. “You’re such an idiot,” he mocks, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“An idiot, hm?” you counter, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Well, I’m an idiot you agreed to marry, so I guess that makes you twice the fool.”

He raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Sharp tongue of yours, huh?”

You nod, feigning innocence. “What can I say? I’ve had years of practice.”

Soonyoung leans in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, it’s a shame. I was really looking forward to giving you something special once we got to our hotel room.”

Your curiosity piques immediately. “Something special? Like what?”

He grins, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Oh, just something that’ll make you remember tonight.”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to gauge his meaning. “Something that’ll make me remember tonight, huh? Care to elaborate?”

Soonyoung chuckles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, I think you already know what I’m talking about.”

You narrow your eyes, playfully challenging him. “Do I? Because you’re being awfully vague.”

He leans back, enjoying the game. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

The teasing glint in his eyes only fuels your curiosity further. You know exactly what he’s implying, but you play along, eager to hear him say it outright.

“So,” you press, “what is it? Can you give me a hint?”

Soonyoung’s grin widens, clearly relishing the moment. “Let’s just say it’s something that’ll make you very excited. And not just because of the hotel’s decor.”

You roll your eyes, laughing softly. “Alright, alright. I get it. You’re being all mysterious.”

You sulk, trailing behind Soonyoung as he walks down the hallway toward your room. “Tell me, pleeeease,” you plead.

Soonyoung glances back at you with a mischievous smile. “Nope, not telling,” he says, his grin widening as he enjoys your insistence.

When you reach the door, Soonyoung unlocks it and pushes it open, gesturing for you to enter. You walk in, your eyes scanning the room briefly, but your focus quickly returns to Soonyoung. He places the suitcases by the door and then hops onto the bed, sprawling out with a relaxed sigh.

You stay standing by the door, your arms crossed over your chest, giving him a sulky, upset look. 

“So,” Soonyoung says with a defiant glare, “am I forgetting something?”

You pout, trying to look as curious and frustrated as possible. “You’ve got me curious,” you admit, your eyes wide.

He laughs, brushing his hand through his hair with a playful sigh. “You’re almost throwing a tantrum over this?”

Soonyoung slides his hand down his abdomen slowly, getting lower and lower, until he's wrapping his fingers around his cock through his white shorts. The outline is clear, thick, and perfectly defined against the fabric.

He gives it a little shake, a sly smile playing on his lips as he watches your reaction.

You stare at him in shock, your knees almost giving way as you take in the sight. Your mouth opens slightly, but no words come out as you struggle to process what you're seeing.

Soonyoung’s smile widens, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. “Are you surprised?”

He chuckles softly, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Well, I figured it was time to give you a little hint,” he says, his hand still resting casually on his bulge. “So, do you think you’re ready to find out what else I have in store for tonight?”

You stammer, unable to look away from the outline of his cock pressed against the fabric of his shorts. “Do we have to wait until nightfall?”

Soonyoung licks his lips, his gaze never leaving you. “Oh,” he drawls, “but you have to walk properly tonight, so we can go to the restaurant.”

Your eyes darken, a fire igniting within you. “You think I can’t handle all of this inside?” 

He raises an eyebrows. “You shouldn’t,” he says, his voice dripping with devilishness. “It’s just a business wedding, after all.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Just a business wedding, huh? You really want to test me?”

Soonyoung chuckles, clearly enjoying the playful back-and-forth. “That’s right. Let’s see if you can keep your composure while we enjoy a nice dinner.”

You take a deep breath, feeling a rush of adrenaline. “Challenge accepted,” 

You’ve never been so turned on by someone’s mere presence before. The entire city tour was a cruel game of torture, all at Soonyoung’s hands. 

In the taxi, his hand had wandered to your nude thigh, brushing against your skin like a feather. The way his fingers lightly caressed your inner leg made your heart race and your breath catch. 

At the restaurant, the casual caresses continued. His leg pressed against yours under the table, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

The warmth of his skin against yours, the way he would occasionally let his knee slide up your thigh—each movement was like an electric current surging through you, leaving you squirming in your seat.

Walking through the jewelry fair was an exercise in restraint. As you admired the sparkling displays, Soonyoung’s hands kept drifting to the exposed skin of your back. His touch was light, almost playful, but each graze against your bare skin made you shiver with need. 

You could barely focus on the dazzling jewels in front of you; your mind was consumed with the need for him.

By the time you were back in the elevator, you felt like you were on the edge of losing control. You could feel his eyes on you, sharp and hungry, as you pressed yourself against the wall. 

You turned your face away, but you couldn’t hide the truth from him. Your nipples, straining against your dress, betrayed your arousal. Your legs, pressed tightly together, were a clear sign of your desperation. Even your unsteady breaths gave you away.

When you finally arrived at the hotel room, you barely made it inside before your desperation took over. 

You throw him against the wall, hands planted firmly on his chest. The sound reverberates through the room, probably making the neighbors wonder what the hell is going on. His usually small eyes are wide, staring at you flaggerblasted. 

Your breath mingles with his as you lean in, letting your lips barely graze his. Your voice comes out breathy, almost desperate, “Please. Stop teasing me.”

For a moment, he's stunned, caught off guard by the whininess in your voice and the look on your face—like you might break if he doesn't give you what you need right now.

It's a twisted scenario, considering you're his childhood friend turned wife is standing before him with an expression that borders on agony—an agony only he can alleviate.

For a moment, he looks like he might laugh, but he knows he's on the verge of losing all sense of control, but a part of him relishes the idea. 

“Say it again,” he murmurs. He knows he's playing with fire, but he can't resist the thrill. His lips barely brush against yours, teasing, taunting.

“Soonyoung, I'm going to fucking cry if you don't—”

“Hold it,” he commands,you shudder, your breath hitching as he lifts your dress. And you comply, bunching the fabric in your fists to keep it out of the way. 

His hand slides down the front of your panties, and your head falls back. 

Soonyoung leans in, his lips ghosting over your ear. “You’re so fucking impatient,” he growls. 

His fingers slide through your slick folds, finding you wet and wanting, throbbing everytime he rubs his fat fingers on you. “You’ve never even tasted my cock, and you’re already obsessed, huh?” He presses his thumb against your clit, making you gasp. “You’re such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You whimper, your hips bucking against his hand. You can barely think straight. “Please, Soonyoung,” you beg again, your voice cracking.

He chuckles darkly, clearly relishing your desperation. “You want my cock so bad, don't you?” His fingers slide inside you, curling just right, and you cry out. “You want me to fuck you senseless? Make you scream my name?”

“Yes,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper. The words spill out of you, unfiltered and raw. “I want you to ruin me.”

“You’ve never had anyone fill you up like I will,” he says. “I’m gonna stretch you out so good, baby. You’ll be begging for more, even when you can’t take it.”

The dirty talk, the sheer vulgarity of his words, makes you even wetter. You feel like you're on the verge of losing control, and it's rousing. 

Soonyoung's fingers pump in and out of you, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. His thumb rubs relentless circles on your clit, and you can feel the tension building, winding tighter and tighter.

“You’re gonna cum on my fingers first,” he whispers. “And then I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk straight for days. Is that what you want, baby? To be fucked so good, you can’t even think about anything else?”

“Yes, yes, please,” you pant, your voice high and desperate. You can feel the orgasm building, Soonyoung's touch is all-consuming, driving you wild with every stroke.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs.“So eager to please. I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

Here and there, Soonyoung is driving you insane with his body affixed to the wall, one strong arm holding your leg up. His wrist swiveling to match his fingers as they explore your weeping cunt and his repetitive rubbing of the areas that cause you to roll your eyes. 

You cry out, gasping as you roll your hips onto his fingers, the orgasm making you forget what would be appropriate at the time. Soonyoung's fingers work you through it, drawing out every last drop of you.

As you come down from the high, you realize you're still clinging to him, fingers deep on his muscular shoulders, your breaths coming in hiccups. Soonyoung pulls his fingers out of you, and you feel a pang of loss.

Your legs feel like jelly, and you can barely stand. Soonyoung catches you, pulling you close. 

Soonyoung's eyes rake over you, his smirk widening as he takes in the sight of your trembling legs. “You're trembling,” he chuckle. His gaze drops to the slick mess between your thighs, and he bites his lip, clearly reveling in the sight. “Better than this... you're literally dripping,” appreciating. 

He lets your leg down, holding you firmly as he guides you back onto the bed. The plush mattress sinks under your weight.

“God forgive me,” he continues, “but if our mothers weren't in that dressing room that day, I would've fucked you right there in the store. With that princess veil of yours... I would've pinned you against the mirror and made you scream my name.”

Your mouth falls open. The image of him taking you into that bridal shop, surrounded by white lace and satin, ​​hitting you like a punch to the gut.

You're not sure what shocks you more: his bold declaration or the way your body reacts to it, growing wetter with every word.

He smirks at your reaction.

“What's the matter, princess? Cat got your tongue?" He teases. His fingers slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs. “Or are you just too turned on to speak?"

He's right; you're completely at his mercy, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone a response.

He strips off his shirt, revealing the sculpted lines of his torso, then shucks off his shorts. His erection strains against the fabric of his boxers, and he groans, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as he palms himself.

“I could've fucked you on that altar,” he visualize. "In front of all those guests. Just to show everyone that no matter how arranged this marriage was, you're mine. No one else's.”

He opens his eyes, locking onto yours. “I would've spread you open right there, had you screaming my name, showing them all who you belong to."

His dirty words, the way he claims you with every syllable, makes your head spin.

Soonyoung's hand moves over his bulge, his eyes never leaving yours. “You don't even know how much I've wanted you,” he hisses. “How much I want to fuck you senseless, make you mine in every way.”

He leans over you, his breath hot against your ear. “And tonight, I'm going to do just that. I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll forget about everyone else. Just me, and this cock inside you, filling you up until you can't think straight.”

You squirm, your body responding to his filthy promises. You can't tear your eyes away from him, your mind racing with the possibilities of what the night holds. 

Soonyoung's fingers brush against the hem of your dress, and you shudder at the contact. “Take it off,” he orders, his voice rough. “I want you naked, spread out on this bed, ready for me.” His eyes bore into yours, and you know he's not just asking—he's demanding. 

You slip your dress over your head, tossing it aside as you finally catch sight of Soonyoung completely naked. His hand moves over his erection, the cockhead glistening with precum. The sight makes you lick your lips.

“Can you—” he starts to ask, but you cut him off, not needing him to finish.

“Yes!” you nearly moan. His eyes darken, a smirk playing on his lips as you drop to your knees in front of him.

You take a moment to appreciate the sight before you. His cock is thick and veined, the head an angry red, glossy with precum. You can almost taste it just from looking.

Tentatively, you lean in and press a soft kiss to the tip, tasting the salty precum on your tongue. It's musky and slightly bitter, but it makes you want to choke on this cock. You swirl your tongue around the head, savoring the taste and the way his breath hitches above you.

Soonyoung's hand tangles in your hair, guiding you closer. “Yes, baby,” he groans, his voice thick with need. “Just like that.”

Encouraged by his reaction, you take him deeper into your mouth, your lips stretching around his girth. The texture of his cock is smooth yet rigid, the veins pulsating against your tongue. You hollow your cheeks, creating a tight seal as you bob your head, taking more of him with each movement.

His hips jerk forward involuntarily, and you hear a strangled moan escape his lips. “Shit, that feels so good,” he pants, his grip on your hair tightening. You look up at him through your lashes, your eyes meeting his. The sight of him looking down at you, his face twisted in pleasure, spurs you on.

You slide your hand up his thigh, wrapping it around the base of his cock to stroke what you can't fit in your mouth. Your other hand cups his balls, gently massaging them as you continue to suck him. 

You hum around his length, sending vibrations through him. He shudders, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. “You're so fucking good at this,” he praises, his voice breathless. “So eager, so perfect.”

You moan around his cock at the praise. You take him deeper, pushing your limits as you feel him hit the back of your throat. You gag slightly but push through, wanting to please him, wanting to show him how much you want this.

“Y/N,” he gasps, his hips bucking forward again. “You're going to make me cum if you keep doing that.”His voice is strained, you don't know if he's warning you or if he's desperate.

You don't let up, doubling your efforts. You suck harder, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head every time you pull back. Your hand continues to pump the base of his cock, matching the rhythm of your mouth. You can feel him throbbing, his cock pulsing with need.

Soonyoung's moans grow louder, more desperate. His breaths come in uneven pants, his body tense with the need for release. “Fuck, Y/N, I'm so close,” he warns, his voice breaking.

You look up at him, your eyes locking with his as you take him even deeper. You want to see him come undone, to watch him lose control because of you. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, and with one last swirl of your tongue, he lets out a choked moan.

He comes hard, his hips jerking as he spills into your mouth. The taste of his release floods your senses, warm and salty. You swallow every drop, savoring the way he trembles above you. His hand in your hair tightens, holding you in place as he rides out his orgasm.

His hand gently strokes your hair after, a contrast to the rough grip from moments before. You pull back, licking your lips and savoring the last taste of him.

He lifts you up effortlessly, his lips crashing into yours. He doesn't care that his cock was just in your mouth seconds ago or that his cum lingers on your tongue. The taste of himself on your lips makes him moan, the sound vibrating between you.

After a moment, he pulls back, one hand wrapping around your throat, not tight but firm enough to make you feel his presence. His eyes bore into yours, as he licks his sensitive lips.

“You were sucking me so good,” he rasps, “that I almost said ‘I love you’.” 

A laugh bursts out of you, hearty and genuine, and he watches you with a smirk. 

“I swear,” he continues, his tone playful. “if I'd known marrying you would come with benefits like this, I would've done it way sooner.” “I feel like I owe you something after that blowjob,” he says, his voice dropping into a deeper, more sultry tone.

You bite your lip, a dirty thought flashing through your mind, and Soonyoung picks up on it immediately. Soonyoung's gaze narrows, reading the filth in your expression

“What is it? What do you want?” he asks excitedly.

“Can you fuck me… doggy style?” you ask.

“Yes, I can,” The corners of his mouth twitch, barely holding back a grin.

You look up, pretending to be lost in thought, then say, “Can you fuck me in missionary?”

He nods again, biting his lip, his grip on your throat tightening just a little.

“Can you fuck me inside… the shower?” 

He presses you tightly against him, his hand gripping your waist possessively, but your gaze still eating him whole. 

“I can fuck you upside down, sideways, any way you want, baby,” he answers, his voice steady and confident. “Just say the word, and I'll make it happen.”

You moan in response. Too early to say that you're already dumb for his cock?

“Get on all fours and lift that pretty ass for me.”

As you crawl up the bed, you make sure to put on a show. You arch your back, lifting your ass higher, giving Soonyoung the view he wants. You wiggle it a little, teasing him. 

The motion makes your pussy lips part slightly, already slick and ready for him. You can feel his eyes on you, burning with thirst. Without warning, his hand comes down hard on your ass, the sharp sting making you gasp. You let out a yelp. You know that mark will be there tomorrow, like a postmark, like a stamp, like a reminder of this moment, and the thought makes you even wetter.

He moves behind you, the bed dipping under his weight. You feel his hands on your hips, gripping you firmly as he positions himself. You can't help but push back against him, seeking more contact.

“So fucking perfect,” he mutters, running his hands over the curves of your ass, squeezing the flesh and kneading it roughly. He spreads you open, taking in the sight of your wetness.  “Look at how ready you are for me. You're dripping, baby.”

You moan, pushing back against him, desperate for more. “Please, Soonyoung, I need you.”

“Fuck, you sound so desperate,” he taunts, positioning himself behind you. His cock slides against your folds, teasing you, making you whimper. “Beg for it. Beg for my cock.”

“Please, Soonyoung, fuck me,” you whine. “I need your cock inside me, please. I can’t wait any longer.”

He doesn't tease, doesn't make you wait any longer. He thrusts in with one hard, deep stroke, filling you completely. The sudden intrusion makes you cry out, a slight discomfort as your walls stretch around him. But it makes your toes curl. 

“God, you’re so tight,” he groans, gripping your hips as he starts to move. “So fucking tight and wet for me. You feel that? That’s my cock stretching your pussy.”

You moan loudly, the pleasure building with each thrust. “Yes, Soonyoung, I feel it. It feels so good. Fuck me harder.”

He picks up the pace, his hips snapping against yours, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. He reaches around, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles. The sudden burst of pleasure makes you gasp, your body jolting.

He pulls back slowly, only to slam back in, setting a rough, punishing rhythm, making you roll your eyes back.

He's so deep, hitting spots you didn't even know existed. Each thrust makes you see stars, and you can't help but moan loudly, not caring if the entire hotel hears you. The stretch, the fullness, it's all so overwhelming, so fucking good.

“Come on,” he urges, voice a low growl. “Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you squeeze this cock.”

It's all too much. The feel of his cock, his fingers on your clit, the dirty words spilling from his lips—it all sends you over the edge. The second orgasm of the night making you feel already exhausted. Your voice hoarse, as you feel yourself sloppier between your legs. 

There's no mercy in his movements; he's fucking you through your high, pushing you beyond your limits. Each time he hits your cervix, a sharp jolt of pleasure-pain ripples through you, making your arms tremble uncontrollably.

You try to hold yourself up, but your strength falters. With a soft cry, your arms give out, and your chest falls against the bed. Soonyoung lets out a low chuckle, a smug grin spreading across his face as he watches you crumble beneath him. Even with your body slack, you're impossibly tight around him, your pussy squeezing him like a vice. 

Soonyoung’s hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he continues to pound into you from behind. You can feel his cock throbbing inside you, stretching you, making your walls clench involuntarily around him. 

He leans over you, his breath hot against your ear, and you can hear the pride in his voice as he coos, “Aww, look at you. So fucking helpless, so fucking wrecked. You can’t even hold yourself up, can you?” 

You can barely muster a response, a breathy whimper escaping your lips as you feel the tears start to stream down your cheeks. It’s an almost incredulous feeling, the tears mixing with the sweat on your face. 

You’ve never been fucked like this before, never been pushed to the brink and then beyond, your body betraying you as it trembles under his control. It’s a raw, visceral experience that leaves you gasping for air, your mind a hazy blur of feel.

Soonyoung notices the tears, and his smirk grows wider. “Look at you, crying for me,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Is it too much, baby? Too fucking good? Love being fucked so hard you can’t even think straight?” 

His hand moves from your hip to your hair, tangling his fingers in it and pulling your head back, forcing you to arch your back even more. The angle shifts, and he hits that perfect spot inside you, making you moan loudly, your voice cracking with the intensity of it all.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans, his hips snapping forward with even more force. “God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard. It’s like your pussy doesn’t want to let me go.” He punctuates his words with deep, hard thrusts that leave you reeling, each one sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through your body.

“So pretty when you cry,” he continues, his tone almost taunting. “I could do this all day, just watch you fall apart on my cock” His words are filthy, degrading, but they ignite something inside you, a desperate need for more. 

The way he speaks to you, the way he claims you with each word and each thrust, is addictive.

You can’t hold back your sobs. “Please,” you manage to choke out, not even sure what you’re begging for anymore. 

More, less, anything—just something to ease the dizzying sensation coursing through you.

He laughs softly, a dark, knowing sound that makes your skin prickle. “Please what, baby? You want me to stop? You want me to fuck you harder?” 

He pulls out almost completely, the emptiness leaving you gasping, and then slams back in with a force that makes your whole body jolt.

“You’re so fucking greedy. Can’t get enough, can you? You want this cock to ruin you, want me to fuck you so good you’ll feel it for days.”

All you can do is moan and sob, your body shuddering with each thrust as he pounds into you. The bed creaks under the force of his movements, it’s dirty, raw, and utterly nasty.

“Gonna make you cum again,” he murmurs, his voice a dark promise. 

And as you feel the tension building inside you again, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening in your belly—you know he’s right.

He lays you gently on the bed, your back sinking into the mattress. Your face, flushed and glistening with sweat, looks completely wrecked, completely exhausted. Soonyoung feels a brief flicker of pity, but it quickly dissipates as you babble out your dirty words, barely coherent but dripping with need. “Please... Soonyoung... more, need you so bad... fuck…”

He smirks, spreading your wobbly legs apart, exposing the slick, swollen mess between them. “You can barely form a sentence, and yet you still want more.”

He slides his cock back inside you, stretching you open once more. 

Soonyoung's thumb finds your clit again, and he begins to work it in slow, light-touch circles. The sensation is maddening, a delicious contrast to the deep, methodical thrusts of his cock. 

He watches your face intently, drinking in every expression, every gasp and whimper."That's it, baby," he coos. “Let me see that pretty face when you cum.”

You can barely keep your eyes open, your body overly sensitive from the previous orgasms, but he doesn't let up.

His other hand moves to your chest, fondling your breast, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipple before sliding up to wrap around your throat. This time, the grip is firm, real, and you can feel the delicious pressure as he chokes you just enough to make your head spin.

He leans in closer, his eyes never leaving your face. 

You cling to him, your arms wrapping tightly around his body, pulling him closer as if you could merge with him, become one. The scent of sweat and skin mingling in the air—it all consumes you. 

Your body is trembling, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core, a white-hot band of pressure that threatens to snap. Soonyoung's moans are louder now, but they seem distant, like they're coming from underwater, muffled by the roaring in your ears.

His pace quickens, and you feel yourself losing control, your mind slipping away from the physical world. The room, the bed, even Soonyoung—all of it fades into the background. 

There's only the blinding, all-encompassing pleasure that fills every nerve, every cell in your body. It's like being pulled under a wave, the sensation crashing over you with a force that's almost violent.

Your thighs tremble uncontrollably, and you can feel the muscles in your abdomen clenching, the buildup to your orgasm reaching its peak.

And then, it hits. The climax rips through you, a white-hot explosion that leaves you gasping, the world narrowing down to the blinding sensation of pure, unadulterated pleasure. 

Your back arches off the bed, your mouth opening in a silent scream as your vision goes white. The intensity is mind-numbing, erasing everything else from your mind except the overwhelming euphoria that pulses through you.

Your body shakes with the force of it, your legs quivering, toes curling as the pleasure radiates outward from your core. You can feel the slickness between your thighs, the way your walls flutter and squeeze around Soonyoung, pulling him deeper inside you. 

Soonyoung's name falls from your lips in a choked sob, your voice hoarse and trembling. 

You slowly come back to reality, feeling the weight of Soonyoung's body on top of you, his cum warm and sticky between your bellies.

Soonyoung pants loudly, trying to catch his breath. He lifts his head slightly to look at you, concern flickering in his eyes despite the satisfied smile on his lips. “You okay, wifey?” he asks.

You manage a weak smile, still feeling the aftershocks of your intense orgasm. “I’m okay, hubby,”

His smile widens, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Good,” he murmurs. “You were amazing.”

You chuckle softly, the sound a bit strained. “You weren’t too bad yourself,” you tease, your hand coming up to rest on his back, feeling the muscles still taut from effort.

He laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against your own. “Glad I could satisfy my wife on our first night together,” 

“Think we should clean up?” Soonyoung asks after a while.

“Probably,” you agree, though neither of you makes a move to get up just yet. You’re too content, too wrapped up in the warmth and comfort of each other’s presence.

Eventually, with a reluctant sigh, Soonyoung shifts, carefully pulling away from you. The cool air hits your skin, making you shiver slightly. He helps you sit up, his hands gentle and supportive as you both make your way to the bathroom.

The weight of the wedding ring on your finger feels heavier now, more symbolic than ever. It’s not just a piece of jewelry; it’s a constant reminder of the commitment you’ve made and the life you’re building together.

Soonyoung, despite his own exhaustion, is kneeling beside the tub, gently washing you. His focused expression as he works to make sure you’re clean and comfortable. The sight of him, so dedicated and caring, makes your heart swell.

You feel a pang of guilt as you see the tiredness etched on his face, a reminder of how much he’s given for you, both physically and emotionally. Your legs, still trembling from the aftermath of the passion, had given up on you, leaving you reliant on him. The thought of him taking care of you, even in his weariness, makes you feel both grateful and a bit ashamed.

“Hey,” you say softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “You don’t have to do this. I can manage on my own.”

Soonyoung looks up at you, his eyes softening as he smiles. “I want to,” he says quietly. “You took care of me earlier, and now it’s my turn to take care of you. Besides, it’s kind of nice, being able to do this for you.”

You look him in the eye and sense the truth in his words. His warm, comforting smile belies the weariness that is evident in the lines on his face. 

[...]

As you and Soonyoung lie together in bed, the room is quiet except for the soft rustling of the sheets and the occasional sigh from either of you. The memories of what just happened still lingers in the air, making both of you feel a bit shy and stunned.

As Soonyoung lays his head on your chest, you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. He sighs contentedly, his fingers lightly tracing patterns around your breast. 

“So,” he begins, his voice tinged with both surprise and a hint of playfulness, “when I hinted at what I wanted, I honestly didn’t think you'd go for it. I was kind of... hoping, but also preparing for a rejection.”

You chuckle softly, your fingers running through his hair. “Oh really? And why not?”

“Well, for one, you’re ridiculously hot. I didn’t think you’d be that into it right off the bat.”

You giggle, feeling a rush of confidence. “Oh, come on. Why wouldn’t I? You’re hot, and let’s be honest, you knew exactly what you were doing.”

“Damn, so you think I’m hot, huh? And here I was thinking I’d have to put in a little more effort.” He rises to look at you, but you make him lay again, your cheeks flushed.

“I can’t believe we managed to go from ‘I do’ to ‘Let’s fuck’ in just a few days. We really don’t waste any time, do we?” You say, grinning. 

“Yeah, I guess I underestimated how much I’d resist you, but I knew I was in trouble from the moment we got married… I thought I’d be a strong soldier, holding out a bit longer.”

He hums thinking. 

“I’m surprised I managed to hold out for as long as I did.” he finishes.

You raise an eyebrow, a naughty smile playing on your lips. "Well, I guess you’re not as disciplined as you thought. Seems like you fell for me quicker than you’d like to admit.”

Soonyoung’s eyes sparkle. “You’ve got me completely hooked.”

You let out a dramatic sigh, your hand resting on his cheek. “Poor soldier. Captured by the enemy and all. What will you do now?”

He leans in, brushing his lips against yours in a tender kiss. "I guess I’ll just have to surrender to you completely.”

“Even the strongest can fall. And let’s be real, I’m pretty good at making sure my soldiers surrender.” You shrugged, smirking. 

He bursts into laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. ���Damn, you really know how to make a guy feel like a total pushover.”

“I plan on keeping you hooked, you know—well, at least until the next time we have a ‘conversation’ like tonight."

“Well, if this is what marriage looks like, I think I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.”

[misswynters]

A Stark’s Fury

Cregan Stark x targ!wife! reader

[warning: blood, you getting cut in the arm

[synopsis: You are the wife of Cregan and younger sister of rhaenyra. You get cut in the arm and your son, Eddard, also gets hurt. Which makes cregan furious.

[note | here’s a lil something while i write the final chapter for winters embrace, just a short drabble :) also instead of rhae getting cut it’s you.

[requested: by anon

The sun dipped low over the horizon, casting an amber glow across Driftmark. Laena Velaryon’s funeral was a somber affair, filled with the mournful silence of the assembled nobles and the soft lapping of waves against the shore. Among the gathered were you, the younger sister of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, your husband Cregan Stark, and your son Eddard, who clung to your skirts, his wide eyes taking in the solemnity of the occasion.

Your silver hair flowed down your back, and your violet eyes glistened with unshed tears as you stood beside Cregan. His strong arm encircled your waist, offering silent support. Despite the warmth of the setting sun, a chill hung in the air, a reflection of the grief that weighed heavily on your hearts.

As the ceremony proceeded, you noticed the tension simmering among the children. Your son, Eddard, stood with Jace, Luke, Baela, and Rhaena, trying to comfort them in their shared sorrow. Your heart ached for them, especially for Rhaena, who had just lost her mother.

When the time came for the family to pay their final respects, you and Cregan approached the bier. You whispered a prayer for Laena’s soul, your voice barely audible over the sound of the crashing waves. Cregan squeezed your hand gently, his presence a solid rock amidst the turbulent sea of emotions.

After the funeral, you found yourself in the grand hall, where the tension between the Blacks and the Greens was palpable. You kept a watchful eye on Eddard, who was playing with the other children. However, the peace was shattered when a scuffle broke out between Aemond and Jace. The sight of Aemond taunting Jace, and the resulting fight, sent a shockwave through the hall.

Eddard tried to intervene, but in the chaos, he was struck and fell to the ground, crying out in pain. You rushed to his side, your heart pounding with fear and anger. Cregan was by your side in an instant, his protective instincts flaring as he assessed the situation.

“What happened?” he demanded, his voice a low growl.

“Aemond taunted Jace, and then the fight started,” you explained, your voice trembling with emotion as you cradled Eddard.

Cregan’s eyes darkened with anger. “This has gone too far.”

The confrontation escalated when Alicent Hightower, her face twisted with rage, advanced on Rhaenyra, who was defending her sons. You stepped between them, trying to defuse the situation, but Alicent’s fury was uncontrollable. She drew a knife, lunging at Rhaenyra, but you intercepted the blow.

The blade sliced across your arm, and you cried out in pain, clutching the wound. Cregan’s roar of fury echoed through the hall as he moved to shield you. He grabbed the knife from Alicent’s hand, his face a mask of rage.

“Enough!” he bellowed. “This madness ends now!”

King Viserys, looking frail and distressed, tried to intervene. “Peace! There must be peace!”

Cregan turned on the king, his eyes blazing. “Peace? Look at what your family has done! My wife is injured, my son is hurt, and for what? Petty squabbles and insults?”

Rhaenyra, tears streaming down her face, reached for you. “Sister, I’m so sorry.”

You managed a weak smile, despite the pain. “It’s not your fault, Rhaenyra. But something must change.”

As the maesters attended to your wound, Cregan kept a protective arm around you. He glared at the Greens, making it clear that any further aggression would not be tolerated. The hall was filled with a tense silence, the air thick with unspoken threats and unresolved grievances.

In the aftermath, Cregan insisted on returning to Winterfell with you and Eddard. “We’ll be safer there,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “I won’t risk your lives any longer.”

You nodded, grateful for his unwavering support. “Thank you, Cregan.”

He kissed your forehead, his lips warm against your cool skin. “I love you. I will always protect you.”

As you prepared to leave Driftmark, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness for the family you were leaving behind. You took a moment to say your farewells to Rhaenyra and her children.

“Please, take care of yourselves,” you whispered to Rhaenyra, holding her hands tightly. “We’ll be in touch, I promise.”

Rhaenyra nodded, her eyes filled with worry. “Be safe, sister.”

With a final embrace, you and Cregan gathered Eddard and boarded your ship, setting sail for Winterfell. The journey was long, but Cregan’s presence and Eddard’s innocent chatter kept your spirits high.

Winterfell welcomed you with open arms. The cold, crisp air and the familiar sights brought a sense of comfort. As you settled back into your home, the events at Driftmark seemed like a distant nightmare.

Cregan, ever the doting husband, ensured you had everything you needed to recover from your injury. He personally oversaw the maesters’ treatments, and his protective nature brought you solace.

A few hours later, as you sat by the fire, Cregan wrapped a warm blanket around your shoulders and handed you a cup of hot tea. “How are you feeling?” he asked, concern etched on his face.

“Better,” you replied, taking a sip. “Thanks to you.”

He smiled, sitting beside you. “I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”

You leaned against him, finding comfort in his strength. “I know. And I’m grateful.”

Life in Winterfell slowly returned to normal. Eddard resumed his lessons and playtime with the other children, while you and Cregan focused on the responsibilities of ruling the North. Despite the distance from Driftmark, the shadow of that day lingered.

Later that night, as you lay in bed, you turned to Cregan. “Do you think things will ever be right again between the Blacks and the Greens?”

Cregan sighed, his brow furrowing in thought. “It’s hard to say. The wounds run deep. But we must try, for the sake of our family.”

You nodded, understanding the gravity of his words. “I want Eddard to grow up in a world where he doesn’t have to choose sides.”

Cregan’s grip on your hand tightened. “We’ll do everything in our power to make that happen.”

Many moons have passed, and your wound healed, leaving only a faint scar as a reminder of the confrontation. The bond between you and Cregan grew stronger, forged in the fires of adversity. Winterfell thrived under your joint leadership, a beacon of stability and strength. In the morning, as the first snow of the season blanketed the ground, you stood on the battlements with Cregan, watching Eddard play with the other children.

“He’s so happy here,” you remarked, smiling at the sight of your son’s laughter.

Cregan wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Of course he is, this is our home. He’s meant to be here.”

You nodded silently, feeling a deep sense of peace. Your eyes went to the scar on your arm, being reminded of what happened. You looked at your husband, with sadness in your eyes.

“I hope my family will stop this infighting, i wish for all of this today end” Your thoughts began to wonder of all the possible outcomes this conflict can end with. This could very well mean that death will linger in your family. Something no one will ever be prepared for, war costs everything.

The quietness of Winterfell enveloped you as you drifted into a fitful sleep beside Cregan. The room was cold, and the memory of the somber events—the funeral of Lady Laena Velaryon, the sharp sting of your wound—still weighed heavily on you.

In your dream, the landscape was bleak and foreboding. A storm raged over a desolate battlefield, its fury tearing at the very fabric of the sky. You wandered through the chaos, a spectral figure in the storm’s heart. Amidst the destruction, you saw a vision of a great dragon, its scales a dim and faded silver, bound by chains of ice that slowly constricted around its body. The dragon’s eyes were filled with a profound sorrow, as if it sensed the end drawing near.

A shadowy figure emerged from the storm—a man cloaked in shadows, his face obscured but his presence undeniably menacing. His voice cut through the tempest, speaking directly to your mind, “The chains of fate are not easily broken. A great loss is coming to your house.”

As you reached out to free the dragon, a dark prophecy formed in your mind, clear as day. “Cregan will face a treacherous choice,” you heard yourself say in the dream. “A betrayal will come from within. Death will follow.”

You awoke with a start, the remnants of the dream lingering like a cold shiver down your spine. Your breathing was rapid and uneven, and a profound fear gripped you. You turned to Cregan, who was lying beside you, his face furrowed in concern.

The sudden movement and your distressed state had startled him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice rough with sleep as he reached out to steady you. His hand found yours, his grip warm and reassuring against your icy fingers.

“My dream,” you managed to stammer, your voice trembling. “I saw... I saw something terrible. A dragon in chains, and a warning about you—”

Cregan’s eyes narrowed with concern, but he quickly sat up, his arm wrapping protectively around you. “What did you see? Tell me everything,” he urged, his voice steady despite the worry etched on his face.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “I don’t know all the details, but it felt so real. I fear that something dark is coming, and it will bring pain to us and our house.”

Cregan nodded, his expression resolute despite the alarm in his eyes. “It’s okay,” he said softly, pulling you closer to his body. “For now, try to rest. You need it” He cradled your body as you leaned towards him, the warmth of his body bringing you comfort.

As you lay back down, you could feel the storm of fear inside you slowly ebbing, but the weight of the dream’s prophecy remained heavy in your heart.

taglist: @benjicotblckwood @travelingmypassion @shoxji @thornsandtulips @spn-obession @giovanna-hyt @r-3dlips

banners: @cafekitsune

[pucksandpower]

Find Me Again

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: in which two soulmates are destined to always find each other only to be torn apart lifetime after lifetime after lifetime … until finally, they’re not (aka the reincarnation AU)

Alexandria, 30 BC

The scorching Egyptian sun beats down on Alexandria as you hurry through the bustling streets, your sandals slapping against the warm stone. The air is thick with tension — whispers of Octavian’s approaching army have the city on edge. But your mind is elsewhere, focused on the stolen moments you’ll soon share with Lando.

You slip into a secluded alleyway, heart racing as you spot his familiar silhouette. Lando’s face lights up when he sees you, though worry creases his brow.

“There you are,” he murmurs, pulling you close. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come.”

You melt into his embrace, savoring his warmth. “I’m sorry I’m late. The palace has been in chaos with all the rumors flying about.”

Lando’s arms tighten around you. “It’s true then? Octavian draws near?”

You nod against his chest. “I fear so. Cleopatra grows more desperate by the day.”

He pulls back, cupping your face in his calloused hands. His dark eyes search yours intently. “Come away with me,” he pleads. “We can leave the city tonight, find passage on a ship bound for Greece or Cyprus.”

Your heart aches at the longing in his voice. “Lando, you know I can’t abandon my duty to the queen. She needs me now more than ever.”

“And what of my need for you?” Lando’s voice cracks with emotion. “Each day I’m torn between my loyalty to Rome and my love for you. I cannot bear the thought of you in danger when Octavian’s forces arrive.”

You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath your fingers. “My brave soldier,” you murmur. “Always trying to protect me. But I’ve survived far worse than regime changes. We’ll find a way through this, as we always do.”

Lando leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed. “I wish I had your optimism. Every time I close my eyes, I see visions of you lying lifeless amidst the chaos of battle.”

A chill runs down your spine despite the oppressive heat. “Don’t speak of such things,” you chide gently. “We make our own fate, remember?”

He sighs, pressing his forehead to yours. “I know. I just ... I can’t shake this feeling of impending doom. Promise me you’ll be careful, my love. Promise you’ll do whatever it takes to stay safe.”

“I promise,” you whisper, sealing the vow with a tender kiss.

Lando responds eagerly, drawing you closer as the kiss deepens. For a blissful moment, the world fades away and there is only the two of you, lost in each other’s embrace.

A distant shout breaks the spell. You reluctantly pull away, both breathing heavily.

“I should go,” you murmur regretfully. “Cleopatra will be wondering where I’ve disappeared to.”

Lando nods, though he doesn’t release you from his arms. “When can I see you again?”

You bite your lip, considering. “Three days from now, at sunset. Meet me by the lighthouse?”

“I’ll be there,” he vows solemnly. “Be safe, my love.”

With a final lingering kiss, you slip from his embrace and hurry back towards the palace. Your heart feels lighter despite the looming threats, buoyed by Lando’s love and the promise of your next rendezvous.

But fate, it seems, has other plans.

The next few days pass in a blur of mounting tension. Cleopatra grows increasingly erratic, oscillating between grandiose plans to seduce Octavian and talks of ending her own life. You do your best to comfort and counsel her, all while stealing moments to daydream about your upcoming meeting with Lando.

On the fated evening, you’re helping Cleopatra prepare for bed when she suddenly fixates on a basket of figs brought by a servant.

“Ah, how fitting,” she muses, a strange glint in her eye. “Did you know, my dear, that the Egyptians that came before us believed figs to be the fruit of the afterlife?”

A chill runs down your spine. “My queen?”

Cleopatra waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t look so worried. I was simply contemplating the cyclical nature of life and death. Come, help me into bed.”

You obey, tucking the sheets around her with practiced ease. As you turn to leave, her hand darts out to grasp your wrist.

“Stay with me a while longer,” she implores. “I find I cannot bear to be alone with my thoughts tonight.”

Your heart sinks, knowing you’ll miss your rendezvous with Lando. But duty wins out over desire. “Of course, my queen. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

Hours pass as you sit by Cleopatra’s bedside, listening to her reminisce about better days. Just as your eyelids begin to grow heavy, a commotion in the hall startles you both fully awake.

“What’s happening?” Cleopatra demands, sitting up.

Before you can answer, the doors burst open and a breathless messenger stumbles in. “My queen,” he pants, “Octavian’s army has breached the city walls!”

Cleopatra’s face hardens. “So, the end has come at last.” She turns to you, her gaze intense. “Fetch me the asp.”

Your blood runs cold. “My queen, surely there must be another way-”

“Do not argue with me!” She snaps. “I will not be paraded through Rome as Octavian’s prize. Now go, quickly!”

With a heavy heart, you hurry to retrieve the venomous snake from its hidden chamber. Your hands shake as you return, presenting the basket to Cleopatra.

She reaches for it eagerly, but pauses. Her eyes meet yours, softening slightly. “My faithful friend,” she murmurs. “You have served me well. I release you from your duties. Go, find that Roman boy of yours and flee while you still can.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “You knew?”

Cleopatra’s lips quirk in a sad smile. “I’ve always known. Now go, before it’s too late.”

Torn between duty and desire, you hesitate. In that moment of indecision, everything changes.

Cleopatra reaches for the asp, but in her haste, she knocks the basket from your hands. The snake falls to the floor, immediately striking at the nearest target … you.

Pain explodes in your ankle as the asp’s fangs sink into your flesh. You cry out, stumbling backwards.

“No!” Cleopatra wails, lunging to catch you as you fall.

The world begins to spin as the venom courses through your veins. Your last coherent thought is of Lando, waiting faithfully by the lighthouse. As darkness closes in, you pray he’ll forgive you for breaking your promise.

Hours later, Lando fights his way through the chaos of the conquered city. He charges into the palace, heedless of the danger, desperate to find you.

When he bursts into Cleopatra’s chambers, his worst fears are realized. Two bodies lie motionless on the floor — the queen and beside her ...

“No,” he chokes out, falling to his knees beside your lifeless form. “No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”

Lando gathers you into his arms, cradling you against his chest as sobs wrack his body. “You promised,” he whispers brokenly. “You promised you’d stay safe.”

But promises, like empires, are so easily broken. As the sun rises on a new era for Egypt, it sets on this chapter of your shared story. Yet even as this life ends, the seeds of the next are already taking root, waiting to bloom in another time, another place.

For true love, like the mighty Nile, cannot be contained. It flows ever onward, carving new paths through the landscape of eternity.

Pompeii, 79 AD

The ground trembles beneath your feet as you race through the chaotic streets of Pompeii. Ash rains from the sky, coating everything in a ghostly gray shroud. All around, people scream and push, desperately seeking escape from the fury of Mount Vesuvius.

“Lando!” You call out, your voice hoarse from the acrid air. “Lando, where are you?”

A hand suddenly grabs your arm, yanking you into a narrow alleyway. You whirl around, ready to fight, only to find yourself face to face with Lando. His usually immaculate toga is torn and stained with soot, his dark curls matted with ash.

“Thank the gods,” he breathes, pulling you into a fierce embrace. “I thought I’d lost you in the crowd.”

You cling to him tightly, savoring his familiar warmth amidst the chaos. “We need to get out of the city,” you say urgently. “The mountain — it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

Lando nods grimly. “I know. I’ve been trying to make it to the harbor, but the roads are completely blocked. It’s madness out there.”

Another tremor rocks the ground, stronger than before. Pieces of masonry rain down from the surrounding buildings. Lando shields you with his body as you both press against the alley wall.

“We can’t stay here,” you say once the shaking subsides. “It’s not safe.”

“Nowhere is safe,” Lando replies, his eyes haunted. “But you’re right, we need to keep moving. Come on, I know another way to the docks.”

Hand-in-hand, you dash back out into the crowded street. The air grows thicker with each passing moment, making it harder to breathe. You pull the edge of your stola over your mouth and nose, squinting through the haze.

Lando leads you through a maze of side streets and back alleys, avoiding the worst of the panicked crowds. But with each turn, your hope dwindles. The mountain’s fury seems to be growing by the minute, raining down fire and ash with terrifying intensity.

As you round another corner, you come face to face with a wall of rubble blocking the entire street. Lando curses under his breath, pounding his fist against a fallen column.

“It’s no use,” he says, defeat creeping into his voice. “Every path to the harbor is cut off. We’re trapped.”

You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Then we’ll find somewhere to wait it out. The gods won’t abandon us. We just have to have faith.”

He turns to you, a sad smile playing on his lips. “Always the optimist, aren’t you? Even in the face of certain doom.”

“One of us has to be,” you reply, managing a weak smile of your own.

Another violent tremor shakes the ground, nearly knocking you both off your feet. In the distance, you hear the ominous rumble of collapsing buildings.

“Quick, in here!” Lando shouts, pulling you towards a sturdy-looking stone building. You duck inside just as a fresh barrage of burning rocks pelts the street where you were standing moments ago.

As your eyes adjust to the dimness, you realize you’re in some kind of workshop. Half-finished statues and blocks of marble are scattered about, coated in a fine layer of ash that has sifted through the cracks.

“A sculptor’s studio,” Lando muses, running his hand along a nearby bust. “Rather fitting, don’t you think? To spend our last moments surrounded by art meant to outlast us all.”

You shoot him a reproachful look. “Don’t talk like that. This isn’t the end. We’ll get through this, just like we always do.”

He sighs, pulling you close. “I admire your spirit, my love. But I fear this time, the Fates have other plans for us.”

As if to punctuate his words, the ground gives another violent lurch. The air grows even thicker, filled with choking dust and sulfurous fumes.

“It’s getting harder to breathe,” you gasp, fighting back a coughing fit.

Lando guides you to a relatively clear corner of the room, helping you sit on the floor before settling beside you. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, drawing you against his side.

“Just try to take shallow breaths,” he instructs, his own voice strained. “Like this, see?”

You nod, focusing on matching your breathing to his. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your labored breaths and the distant rumble of the mountain.

“Lando?” You whisper after a while.

“Hmm?”

“I’m scared.”

He tightens his hold on you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I know, love. I am too.”

“Tell me a story?” You ask, your voice small. “Like you used to, when we first met. Remember?”

Lando chuckles softly. “How could I forget? You were the most stubborn student I’ve ever had the misfortune of tutoring.”

“Hey!” You protest weakly, managing a smile despite everything. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh no?” He teases. “Who was it that insisted the Odyssey would be vastly improved if Odysseus had simply asked for directions?”

You laugh, the sound quickly dissolving into a cough. “Well, it’s true! Twenty years to get home? Penelope should have moved on.”

Lando shakes his head in mock dismay. “Such disrespect for the classics. I clearly failed as your tutor.”

“Never,” you murmur, snuggling closer to him. “You taught me far more important things than dusty old stories.”

“Oh? And what might those be?”

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “You taught me what it means to truly love someone. To find a home not in a place, but in a person.”

Lando’s eyes shine with unshed tears as he leans down to kiss you softly. “And you, my darling, taught me that life is meant to be lived, not just studied. You brought color to my world of scrolls and stone.”

Another tremor shakes the building, sending a fresh wave of dust raining down on you both. The air grows thicker, each breath a struggle.

“Lando,” you wheeze, gripping his hand tightly. “I don’t want to die.”

He pulls you onto his lap, cradling you against his chest. “Shh, it’s alright. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“Promise you won’t leave me?” You plead, your vision starting to blur.

“Never,” he vows fiercely. “Not in this life or any other. Wherever our souls go next, we go together. I promise.”

You manage a weak nod, focusing on the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. As consciousness begins to slip away, you’re struck by a strange sense of déjà vu.

“Lando?” You murmur, your voice barely audible.

“Yes, love?”

“I think ... I think we’ve done this before.”

He lets out a shaky laugh. “What, died in each other’s arms while a volcano erupts? I think I’d remember that.”

You shake your head slightly. “No, not exactly. But this feeling ... like we’ve known each other forever. Like we’ll find each other again, no matter what.”

Lando is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is thick with emotion. “Maybe we have. Maybe we will. I’d like to think so.”

“Me too,” you whisper.

As the world crumbles around you, you cling to each other. Your last thoughts are not of fear or regret, but of the love you share. A love so powerful it transcends time itself.

And as this chapter closes, another waits to begin. For some bonds are too strong to be broken, even by death. Your souls are destined to find each other again and again, weaving an eternal tapestry of love across the ages.

Salem, 1692

The air in the Salem courthouse is thick with tension and the bitter scent of fear. You stand before the assembled judges, your wrists bound tightly with rough rope that chafes your skin. The crowd of onlookers murmurs and shifts restlessly, their faces a sea of suspicion and barely concealed hostility.

Lando sits among them, his face a mask of anguish as he watches the proceedings. He wants nothing more than to rush to your side, to shield you from the madness that has gripped the town. But he knows that any show of support would only damn you further in the eyes of the court.

Judge Hathorne’s voice rings out, silencing the whispers. “The accused will step forward.”

You take a shaky step, raising your chin defiantly despite the terror coursing through your veins.

“You stand accused of witchcraft and consorting with the devil,” Hathorne intones gravely. “How do you plead?”

“Not guilty,” you declare, your voice stronger than you feel. “I am no witch, merely a midwife and herbalist. I have done nothing but help this community.”

A snort of derision comes from the crowd. You turn to see Goodwife Putnam, her face twisted with malice. “Lies!” She shrieks. “I saw her dancing naked in the woods, consorting with dark spirits!”

“That’s not true!” You protest. “I was gathering herbs for my remedies, nothing more!”

Judge Hathorne raises an eyebrow. “And can anyone vouch for your whereabouts on the night in question?”

Your heart sinks. You had been alone that night, as you often were when foraging. “I ... I was alone, your honor. But I swear on all that is holy, I am no witch.”

A ripple of whispers sweeps through the crowd. Lando’s fists clench at his sides, his jaw tight with the effort of remaining silent.

“Very convenient,” Hathorne remarks dryly. “Goody Putnam, you may continue with your testimony.”

The woman stands, her eyes gleaming with a fervor that chills you to the bone. “I’ve seen her speaking to animals as if they could understand her. And just last week, my cow’s milk turned sour the very day after she visited our farm!”

“That’s ridiculous!” You exclaim. “Milk spoils, it’s a natural occurrence. And I often speak to animals, as do many others. It does not make me a witch!”

But your protests fall on deaf ears. One by one, your neighbors step forward with increasingly outlandish accusations. Every misfortune, every unexplained event is laid at your feet.

“She cursed my crops!”

“My child fell ill after eating her bread!”

“I saw her flying on a broomstick!”

The claims grow more absurd, but the judges nod solemnly at each one. You feel the noose of suspicion tightening around your neck with each passing moment.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Lando leaps to his feet. “This is madness!” He shouts. “You’re condemning an innocent woman based on nothing but gossip and superstition!”

All eyes turn to him. Judge Danforth fixes him with a steely glare. “Master Norris, you will remain silent or be removed from this courtroom.”

“I will not be silent while you murder an innocent woman!” Lando retorts. He turns to the crowd, imploring them. “Can’t you see what’s happening? We’re tearing our community apart with these baseless accusations!”

A murmur of uncertainty ripples through the onlookers. For a moment, you dare to hope that reason might prevail.

But then Abigail Williams, one of the young girls at the center of the witch hunt, lets out a blood-curdling shriek. She points a trembling finger at you. “Her specter! I see her specter tormenting me even now!”

The other girls quickly join in, writhing and screaming as if in the throes of possession. The courtroom erupts into chaos.

“Order!” Judge Hathorne bellows, pounding his gavel. “Order in the court!”

As the commotion dies down, he turns to you, his expression grave. “The evidence against you is overwhelming. Unless you confess and repent, I have no choice but to find you guilty of witchcraft.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. You know that a confession might spare your life, but it would mean living a lie. And worse, it would lend credence to the madness gripping Salem.

“I will not confess to crimes I did not commit,” you say quietly but firmly. “I am innocent before God and man.”

Judge Hathorne’s face hardens. “Then you leave us no choice. You are hereby sentenced to death by hanging. May God have mercy on your soul.”

The crowd erupts into a mix of cheers and shocked gasps. Lando’s anguished cry rises above the din. “No! You can’t do this!”

He rushes towards you, but is quickly restrained by two burly constables. “Let me go!” He shouts, struggling against their grip. “She’s innocent!”

Your eyes meet his across the chaotic courtroom. Despite everything, you manage a small, sad smile. “It’s alright, Lando,” you call out. “Be strong. This isn’t your fault.”

As the guards move to lead you away, Lando breaks free and rushes to your side. He cups your face in his hands, his eyes wild with desperation. “I’ll find a way to stop this,” he vows. “I won’t let them take you.”

You lean into his touch, memorizing the feel of his hands on your skin. “There’s nothing you can do, my love. Promise me you’ll stay safe. Don’t let them take you too.”

“I can’t lose you,” he chokes out, tears streaming down his face.

“You won’t,” you whisper fiercely. “Not really. I don’t know how I know this, but I swear we’ll find each other again. In another life, another time. This isn’t the end for us.”

The guards roughly pull you apart. As they drag you away, you keep your eyes locked on Lando’s, drawing strength from his gaze.

The next few days pass in a blur of fear and desperate prayer. You cling to the strange certainty that had come over you in the courtroom — that somehow, someway, this is not truly the end for you and Lando.

On the day of your execution, you walk to the gallows with your head held high. The crowd that has gathered is subdued, some already beginning to question the justice of what’s happening.

You scan the faces, searching for Lando, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Your heart aches at his absence, but you understand. It would be too painful for him to watch.

As the noose is placed around your neck, you close your eyes and think of Lando. Of his laugh, his gentle touch, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. You hold onto these memories as the world falls away beneath your feet.

Your last conscious thought is a promise — to find him again, no matter how long it takes.

Miles away, hidden in the woods, Lando feels the exact moment you leave this world. He collapses to his knees, a wordless cry of anguish tearing from his throat. But even in his grief, he feels the echo of your final promise.

“I’ll find you,” he whispers to the uncaring forest. “In this life or the next. We’ll be together again. I swear it.”

And so another chapter closes, the threads of your shared destiny stretching onward through time. The cycle continues, each life bringing you closer to the moment when you’ll finally break free of this endless dance of death and rebirth.

Yekaterinburg, 1918

The Ipatiev House looms dark and foreboding in the Yekaterinburg night. You pace the confines of your makeshift prison, the once-opulent rooms now a stark reminder of how far the mighty Romanovs have fallen. The sound of raised voices and heavy footsteps from the floor below sends a chill down your spine.

“They’re coming,” your sister Maria whispers, her eyes wide with fear.

Before you can respond, the door bursts open. A group of armed men file in, their faces grim and purposeful. Your heart nearly stops when you spot a familiar face among them.

“Lando?” You gasp, scarcely able to believe your eyes.

He meets your gaze, his expression a turbulent mix of emotions. “Grand Duchess,” he says stiffly, the formal title at odds with the intimate moments you’ve shared in secret.

“What’s happening?” You demand, struggling to keep your voice steady. “Why are you here?”

Yakov Yurovsky, the commandant of the house, steps forward. “The Ural Soviet has decided to execute the Romanov family,” he announces coldly. “You are to be moved to the basement immediately.”

A wave of terror washes over you. “No,” you breathe. “No, this can’t be happening.”

Your eyes lock with Lando’s, silently pleading. For a moment, you see the conflict raging behind his eyes. But then his expression hardens, and he looks away.

As the guards begin herding your family towards the stairs, you manage to maneuver closer to Lando. “How could you be part of this?” You hiss under your breath.

His jaw clenches. “The revolution demands sacrifices,” he mutters. “Even from those we ... care about.”

“Care about?” You repeat incredulously. “Is that all I am to you now? After everything we’ve shared?”

A flicker of pain crosses his face. “You know it’s more complicated than that. Your family’s rule has caused immeasurable suffering. This ... this is justice.”

“Murder is not justice,” you retort, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger.

Before he can respond, you’re roughly pushed forward. The journey to the basement is a blur of terror and disbelief. Your mind races, desperately seeking a way out of this nightmare.

In the dank cellar, Yurovsky instructs your family to line up against the wall. You find yourself between your younger siblings, instinctively trying to shield them even as your own knees threaten to give out.

“Wait,” you cry out as Yurovsky raises his hand to signal the firing squad. “Please, spare the children at least. They’re innocent in all this!”

Yurovsky’s face remains impassive. “There can be no Romanov heirs left to rally around. The old regime must end here and now.”

You turn to Lando, making one last desperate appeal. “Lando, please. If what we had meant anything to you, don’t let this happen. Help us!”

For a moment, you see the Lando you knew — the passionate young man who spoke of creating a better world, who held you under the stars and whispered promises of a future together. But then the revolutionary mask slips back into place.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice barely audible. “But this is bigger than us.”

As the soldiers raise their weapons, time seems to slow. You think of all the lives you might have lived — the futures now forever lost to you. A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you, as if you’ve faced death with Lando before.

“Ready!” Yurovsky’s voice cuts through your reverie.

You straighten your spine, determined to face your end with dignity. Your eyes find Lando’s one last time.

“Aim!”

“I forgive you,” you mouth silently, even as tears stream down your face.

You see Lando’s composure crack, anguish flooding his features. He takes a half-step forward, as if to intervene, but it’s too late.

“Fire!”

The basement erupts in a deafening cacophony of gunshots and screams. You feel a searing pain in your chest as bullets tear through you. As you crumple to the ground, your fading vision fixates on Lando’s horrified face.

With your last breath, you whisper, “Find me again.”

Then darkness claims you.

Lando stands frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from your lifeless form. The smokey smell of gunpowder mixes with the metallic scent of blood, turning his stomach.

“Finish them off,” Yurovsky orders dispassionately. “No survivors.”

As his comrades move forward with bayonets, Lando stumbles back, retching. He staggers up the stairs and out into the cool night air, gulping it down desperately.

What has he done?

He’d believed so fervently in the revolution, in the need to sweep away the old order to build a better world. But staring at his blood-stained hands, Lando feels nothing but horror and soul-crushing guilt.

Your final words haunt him. “Find me again.” But how can he, when he’s destroyed any chance of a future together?

As dawn breaks over Yekaterinburg, Lando makes a decision. He can’t undo what’s been done, but he can ensure the truth isn’t buried along with your body.

Over the coming weeks, as the Bolsheviks spread lies about your family’s fate, Lando works in secret to document what really happened. He gathers evidence, writes detailed accounts, and arranges for the information to be smuggled out of the country.

It’s a dangerous game. If caught, he’ll be branded a traitor to the revolution. But Lando no longer cares about ideology or politics. His only goal is to honor your memory and ensure that history remembers the truth.

Late one night, as he prepares to flee the country with his damning documents, Lando allows himself a moment of quiet reflection. He thinks of your smile, your compassion, the way you challenged him to see beyond his rigid beliefs.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers to the empty room. “I failed you in this life. But I swear, somehow, I’ll make it right. If there’s any justice in the universe, we’ll meet again. And next time, I’ll protect you. I’ll choose you over everything else.”

As he slips out into the night, Lando feels a strange sense of certainty. This isn’t the end of your story. Somehow, someway, you’ll find each other again.

The wheel of fate continues to turn, carrying your intertwined souls towards yet another lifetime. But with each cycle, the bond between you grows stronger. Perhaps next time, you’ll finally break free of this tragic pattern and find the happiness that’s eluded you for so long.

Jonestown, 1978

The humid Guyanese air hangs heavy over Jonestown, thick with tension and the cloying scent of tropical flowers. You stand among the gathered crowd, your heart pounding so hard you fear it might burst from your chest. Beside you, Lando’s hand finds yours, squeezing tightly.

“This isn’t right,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the droning speech coming from the pavilion. “We need to get out of here.”

You nod imperceptibly, not daring to speak. Jim Jones’ paranoid ravings have reached a fever pitch in recent days, and you both know that even the slightest hint of dissent could be deadly.

“My children,” Jones’ voice booms out over the loudspeakers, “the time has come for us to make our final stand against the oppressors who seek to destroy our paradise.”

A murmur ripples through the crowd. You scan the sea of faces, seeing a mix of blind devotion and barely concealed terror.

“Our Congressional visitors have betrayed us,” Jones continues, his words slurring slightly. “They will bring nothing but destruction. We have no choice but to enact our glorious revolutionary suicide.”

Your blood runs cold. You’d heard whispers of this plan, but had desperately hoped it was just another of Jones’ manipulative tactics.

“Lando,” you whisper urgently, “we have to run. Now.”

He nods, his face pale but determined. “Follow my lead. When I give the signal, we make a break for the jungle.”

But before you can move, you feel a vice-like grip on your arm. You turn to see your mother, her eyes wild with fervor.

“Where do you think you’re going?” She hisses. “This is our moment of triumph. You will not ruin it with your lack of faith.”

On Lando’s other side, his father has a similar hold on him. The older man’s face is a mask of grim resignation. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, son,” he says quietly.

You watch in horror as Jones’ lieutenants begin distributing paper cups filled with a sinister purple liquid. The bitter almond smell of cyanide fills the air.

“No,” you breathe, struggling against your mother’s grip. “Mom, please. This is insanity. We don’t have to do this!”

But your pleas fall on deaf ears. Your mother’s grip only tightens as she accepts two cups from a passing aide.

“Drink,” she commands, thrusting one towards you.

You shake your head vehemently, clamping your mouth shut. Beside you, Lando is engaged in a similar struggle with his father.

“You can’t force us to do this!” Lando shouts, drawing the attention of nearby cult members. “This is murder!”

Jones’ voice cuts through the growing commotion. “Those who resist are traitors to our cause. They must be made to comply, for the good of all.”

Suddenly, you’re surrounded by a group of Jones’ most fanatical followers. Rough hands grab you, forcing your head back. You struggle wildly, but it’s no use. You feel the cold rim of the cup pressed against your lips.

“No!” Lando cries out, fighting to reach you. “Leave her alone!”

But he too is overwhelmed, multiple hands restraining him as the poisoned drink is forced upon him.

The sickly-sweet liquid burns your throat as it’s poured into your mouth. You choke and splutter, but can’t prevent some of it from going down. Beside you, Lando’s muffled cries tell you he’s suffering the same fate.

As the hands release you, you collapse to your knees, coughing violently. Your vision swims, the world taking on a surreal, nightmarish quality.

“Lando,” you gasp, reaching out blindly.

His hand finds yours, gripping it weakly. “I’m here,” he manages, his voice raw. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t protect you.”

You crawl closer, fighting against the growing weakness in your limbs. All around, people are collapsing, some screaming in agony while others slip away in eerie silence.

“It’s not your fault,” you whisper, cupping Lando’s face with a trembling hand. “We never stood a chance against this madness.”

Lando’s eyes, clouded with pain, meet yours. “This can’t be how it ends,” he says desperately. “Not again.”

A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you. “Again?” You murmur, confused.

He nods weakly. “I don’t know how, but I feel like we’ve been here before. Facing death together, unable to stop it.”

As the poison works its way through your system, flashes of other lives flicker through your mind. Ancient Egypt, Pompeii, Salem, Russia — each time, finding each other only to be torn apart.

“I remember,” you breathe, wonder mingling with the pain. “We keep finding each other, but we never get our happy ending.”

Lando pulls you closer, both of you shaking with the effort of fighting off the inevitable. “Next time,” he vows, his voice barely above a whisper. “Next time we’ll break this cycle. We’ll find a way to be together.”

You manage a small, sad smile. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he murmurs, pressing a weak kiss to your forehead.

As consciousness begins to slip away, you cling to each other. The sounds of screaming and Jones’ maniacal laughter fade into the background. In these final moments, there is only you and Lando, and the love that has somehow endured across lifetimes.

“Find me again,” you whisper, echoing words spoken in another life.

Lando’s grip on your hand tightens fractionally. “Always,” he breathes.

As darkness closes in, you’re filled with a strange sense of hope. This tragic cycle can’t go on forever. Someday, somehow, you’ll find a way to break free and finally have the life together you’ve been denied so many times.

Your last thought, as you slip away, is a prayer to whatever cosmic force keeps bringing you together.

Next time, let it be different.

Next time, let us live.

And as your souls depart this tragic scene, unseen wheels of fate begin to turn once more. The cycle continues, but perhaps this time, with the weight of so many shared lifetimes behind you, you’ll finally find your way to a happier ending.

In the years that follow, as the horror of Jonestown is revealed to the world, two names are lost among the hundreds of victims. But your story — the story of a love that refuses to be extinguished — lives on, waiting for the next chapter to unfold.

Monaco, 2024

The soft glow of computer screens illuminates Lando’s face as he leans into his microphone, his eyes darting between the chat and his game. “No, chat, I’m not going to sing the Baby Shark song,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You lot are absolutely mental, you know that?”

The door to his streaming room creaks open, and he glances over, his face softening into a warm smile as you pad in, wrapped in an oversized hoodie you’ve stolen from his wardrobe.

“Speaking of sharks,” Lando grins, addressing his audience, “look who’s decided to join us. It’s my favorite cuddly shark!”

You roll your eyes fondly at the nickname, a reference to your habit of playfully nipping at his shoulder when you’re feeling particularly affectionate. As you approach, Lando pushes his chair back slightly, making room for you to settle onto his lap.

“Come here, you,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your waist as you curl into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. To his stream, he explains, “Sorry chat, the missus is feeling a bit clingy tonight. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

You mumble something unintelligible into his skin, making him laugh. “What was that, love? The stream can’t hear you when you’re trying to become one with my neck.”

Lifting your head slightly, you repeat, “I said, don’t let me interrupt your gaming. I just wanted cuddles.”

Lando presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “You’re never an interruption. Besides, I think the chat’s been asking for a cameo from you all night.”

You turn to face the camera, waving sleepily. “Hi, chat. Sorry I’m not more entertaining tonight. Long day at work.”

The chat explodes with greetings and well-wishes, scrolling by almost too fast to read. Lando chuckles, giving you a gentle squeeze. “See? They love you. Probably more than they love me, to be honest.”

“That’s fair,” you murmur, nuzzling back into his neck. “No one loves you more than I do.”

Lando’s breath catches for a moment, and you feel his heart rate pick up. Even after all this time together, simple declarations of love still affect him deeply. It’s one of the many things you adore about him.

“Alright, chat,” Lando says, his voice a touch huskier than before. “You’ve gone and made her all sappy. I hope you’re happy with yourselves.”

You can’t help but giggle at his attempt to deflect. “Oh please, you love it when I’m sappy.”

“Maybe,” he concedes with a grin. “But if I admit that, they’ll never let me hear the end of it. I have a reputation to maintain, you know.”

You snort inelegantly. “What reputation? Everyone knows you’re a big softie.”

“Oi!” Lando protests, poking you in the side and making you squirm. “I’ll have you know I’m very tough and manly. Right, chat?”

The stream erupts with a mix of agreement and playful disagreement, peppered with emotes and inside jokes. You watch the scrolling text with amusement, marveling at the community Lando has built.

“See?” Lando says triumphantly. “They agree with me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure at least half of those messages were sarcastic, babe.”

Lando waves a hand dismissively. “Details, details. The point is, I’m incredibly macho and not at all a softie.”

“Mmhmm,” you hum skeptically. “Is that why you cried watching Up last week?”

“Hey!” Lando exclaims, his cheeks flushing slightly. “That’s classified information, that is. You can’t just go revealing my secrets to the entire internet!”

The chat goes wild at this revelation, demanding to know more about Lando’s movie-watching habits. You can’t help but laugh at his mock-outraged expression.

“Sorry, love,” you say, not sounding sorry at all. “But if I have to put up with your sniffling during Disney movies, the least I can do is share the joy with your fans.”

Lando groans dramatically. “That’s it, I’m filing for divorce. Chat, you’re my witnesses. This is grounds for divorce, right? Revealing a man’s most intimate vulnerabilities?”

You roll your eyes fondly. “We’re not even married yet, you goof.”

The words slip out before you can think better of them, and suddenly the atmosphere in the room shifts. Lando’s eyes widen slightly, his gaze locking with yours.

“Yet?” He repeats softly, a note of wonder in his voice.

You feel your cheeks heat up, but you don’t look away. “Well, yeah. I mean, unless you had other plans?”

For a moment, Lando seems to forget entirely about the stream. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing gently across your skin. “No other plans,” he murmurs. “Just you. Always you.”

The intimacy of the moment is broken by the chat exploding once again, this time with a flurry of ring emotes and excited keysmashes. Lando blinks, seeming to remember where he is.

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “Well, chat, I think that’s my cue to end the stream for tonight. Got some, uh, important things to discuss with this one.”

You bury your face in his neck again, half embarrassed and half thrilled by the turn of events. As Lando rushes through his usual sign-off, you can feel the barely contained energy thrumming through him.

The moment the stream ends, Lando spins his chair to face you fully, his eyes bright with excitement. “Did you mean that?” He asks eagerly. “About the marriage thing?”

You lift your head, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. “Of course I did. Lando, I’ve loved you for lifetimes. There’s nothing I want more than to marry you.”

Something flashes in his eyes at your words — a fleeting moment of recognition, as if some long-buried memory is struggling to surface. But then it’s gone, replaced by pure joy.

“Lifetimes, huh?” He grins, pulling you closer. “Well, in that case, I suppose we better make this one count.”

As his lips meet yours in a tender kiss, you’re filled with an overwhelming sense of rightness. After so many tragic endings, you’ve finally found your happily ever after. And this time, you’re not letting go.

“I love you,” you murmur against his lips. “In this life and every other.”

Lando’s answering smile is radiant. “And I love you. Always have, always will.”

As you lose yourselves in each other’s embrace, the echoes of past lives fade away. This is your time, your chance at happiness. And you plan to make the most of every single moment.

[driverlando]

✧.* #LANDOLEAKS

synopsis- Lando said your sex tape was for his eyes only…until it wasn’t

before you continue: this is sort of a continuation to my pr nightmare fic for lando! if you enjoyed, please reblog and give me a follow xx

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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✧.* yours and landos reaction

You groggily open your eyes to the persistent buzz of your phone on the nightstand. Beside you, Lando stirs, rubbing his eyes as he reaches for his own phone, mirroring your confusion.

“What time is it?” you mumble, squinting at the bright screen in the dim room. The soft glow of dawn filters through the curtains, casting a muted light on the chaos that’s about to unfold. Lando doesn’t answer, his attention captured by the flurry of notifications and messages flooding his phone. His brows furrow in concern, and you can feel the tension in the air.

You glance at your own screen, eyes widening as you see the trending hashtag: #LandoLeaks. Your heart skips a beat as you click on it, a mixture of dread and disbelief washing over you. There, in stark reality, are snippets of a private video you and Lando thought was secure, now shared for the world to see.

“Oh no,” you whisper, the words barely audible over the pounding of your heart. Lando looks at you, his expression mirroring your own shock and dismay.

“This can’t be happening,” he mutters, running a hand through his tousled hair. “How did this get out?”

You feel a wave of anger and violation surge through you. “Someone must have hacked into your iCloud,” you say, trying to process the situation. “We need to do something, and fast.”

Lando nods, determination replacing the initial shock in his eyes. “First, we need to contact our teams and get this taken down,” he says, already dialing numbers on his phone. “Then, we’ll figure out who did this.”

As you watch him spring into action, you can’t help but feel a mix of emotions—anger, fear, but also a strange sense of resolve. Together, you would get through this. You always did.

With a deep breath, you start typing a message to your publicist, hoping that amidst the chaos, you and Lando could reclaim some sense of control over your lives.

In the next few hours, the house becomes a hub of frantic activity. Calls and emails fly back and forth between you, Lando, and your respective teams. Legal advisors, publicists, and social media managers are looped in to manage the crisis. The video is being taken down from various platforms, but the damage has been done. Screenshots and clips have already spread like wildfire.

Your phone rings, and it’s your publicist. “We need to get ahead of this story,” she says urgently. “A statement from both of you, emphasizing your privacy has been violated, and that legal action is being taken.”

You look over at Lando, who’s on the phone with his own team. He catches your eye and gives a nod of understanding. “We’re on it,” you reply, ending the call.

Lando finishes his conversation and sits beside you. “How are you holding up?” he asks softly, placing a hand on your knee.

“Honestly? I’m furious and embarrassed,” you admit, fighting back tears. “But we need to stay strong and united.”

He pulls you into a comforting embrace. “We will get through this,” he reassures you. “Let’s draft that statement.”

You both sit at the dining table, laptops open, drafting a response that conveys your anger and frustration, but also your determination to reclaim your privacy.

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yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 85,638 others

yourusername Well, this is not how we planned to go viral. 🙃 While we appreciate the interest, we kindly ask for privacy during this time. Also fuck whoever hacked into Landos iCloud, you bet your ass you’re getting sued 😙

view all 9,267 comments

carlossainz55 sue that fucker!

user1 search up #landoleaks on Twitter to see the videos!!

↳ user2 Landos thrust game is on point

↳ user3 can you not? y/n clearly asked for you to respect her privacy

↳ user2 well they shouldn’t have been making these videos then. they knew what the risk was

user4 can we talk about that one video where he has his backwards cap on in doggy 🥵🥵

↳ user5 or the one where y/n’s filming him eating her out and he’s looking right into the camera

↳ user4 they’re SO hot and kinky

↳ user6 respect their privacy 🤦‍♀️

user7 Sending love and support to the both of you! This is not okay. 💔

user8 McLaren will probably have something to say about this 😳

↳ user9 if they fire lando over this I’ll go insane

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landonorris

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc and 1,628,725 others

landonorris Life in the fast lane comes with its unexpected bumps. Thanks to everyone for the support and understanding. We’re keeping our heads up and looking forward to getting back on track. Remember, change those iCloud passwords! 😉

view all 13,527 comments

user10 show them how it’s done! 💪

user11 did they find the hacker?

↳ deuxmoi yeah they did, apparently it was a fan 🫡

yourusername come put those hands to good use

↳ user12 we all know how skilled his hands are now, so i totally understand her constant thirsting

↳ user13 she’s back at it again

user14 our unbothered king!! #Legend

↳ user15 love how he’s just training and preparing for his next race, not giving the hacker any satisfaction

oscarpiastri excellent advice mate…should’ve taken it earlier

user16 he’s excluding major big dick energy

↳ user17 I mean from the leaks, he has every right to exclude it 🤣

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EXCLUSIVE: Formula One Star Lando Norris and Influencer Girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N’s Intimate Video Leaked in iCloud Hack

By: Sasha, Rumour Radar

In a shocking turn of events, Formula One sensation Lando Norris and his influencer girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N have become the latest victims of a devastating iCloud hack. Early this week, the couple’s private videos and photos were leaked online, sending social media into a frenzy and causing the hashtag #LandoLeaks to trend worldwide.

The intimate videos, believed to be stored securely in Norris’s iCloud account, was maliciously accessed and disseminated, violating the couple’s privacy in the most invasive manner. Fans and followers of the McLaren driver and his popular partner woke up to the unexpected scandal, as the videos spread like wildfire across various platforms.

Privacy Breach Sends Shockwaves

Sources close to the couple reveal that Norris and Y/L/N were awakened by a barrage of notifications on their phones, alerting them to the unauthorized leak. “They were in complete shock and disbelief,” says an insider. “This is a deeply personal violation, and they’re understandably devastated”

In an exclusive statement to our publication, Norris’s management team expressed their outrage and confirmed immediate action is being taken to remove the content from the internet. “We are working with legal experts and cybersecurity professionals to address this breach of privacy and ensure that those responsible are held accountable,” the statement reads. “This is not just about Lando and Y/N, it’s about everyone’s right to privacy”

Digital Safety

The leak has sparked widespread condemnation from fans and fellow celebrities, who are rallying behind the couple with messages of support and solidarity. Many are calling for stricter measures to protect individuals’ private data and prevent such invasive breaches from occurring in the future.

As the couple works to regain control of their personal lives, the incident serves as a stark reminder of the vulnerabilities that even high-profile figures face in the digital age and also highlights the importance of digital privacy and responsible online behavior.

Our thoughts remain with Lando and Y/N during this challenging time, and we urge our readers to approach discussions with empathy and respect for all parties involved.

Stay tuned to Rumour Radar for the latest updates on this unfolding story and more celebrity gossip.

—

[aemondapologistfrfr]

The Only Place I Want to Die

aegon x sister!wife!reader 

Summary: Aegon turns to you for comfort in the following weeks of his coronation. Pleasure and tears seem to be the only way you both can find solace during these troubling times. 

Warnings: 18+ swearing, alicent hitting her child, wine, depression, thoughts of wanting to die, crying, face riding, p in v, fingering, overstimulation

Authors Note: i fear i have too many feelings so this tragically pretty and broken man 🙂, the targtower children have actually been ripping my heart apart!!, u can’t convince me this man doesn’t whimper

Word Count: 3.5k 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

I woke during the hour of the wolf to a cold bed and the fire flickering out. I sigh and push the blankets off of me and go to try and revive the embers. The fire slowly comes back to life with a crackle and I kneel on the stone to hover my hands near the flame. After countless minutes I rise and take in the state of our chambers. 

Empty wine glasses litter almost every surface and what’s left is covered by our clothes. I reach for the robe closest to me and wrap it around my body. I settle for mismatched slippers at this hour and pad over to the doors. I slowly crack it open and see our guard ever faithfully standing at attention. 

“Where is Aegon?” I ask softly and the guard turns to me. 

“I’m sorry, Your Grace. The King didn’t say.” the guards eyes look at me nervously and try to focus his attention anywhere else. 

“Then I’ll find him myself.” I push the door the rest of the way open and click it shut behind me. 

“My Queen-“ I raise my hand and wave him off as I start down the dark hallway. 

I can’t stand when they use our new titles. I don’t feel like the Queen and I know Aegon shares my sentiments. The past fortnight after his coronation has been chaos and our mother offers us no comfort or guidance. They simply placed crowns on our head and continue to move us about as they please. 

I walk down the stairs and head to the cellar to see if he’s drowning himself in his cups again. I enter the cold and damp room and there’s no candles or torches lit as I slink between the aisles of bottles. I hear and see no sign of Aegon, but I do spot our favorite wine. I grab the bottle by its neck and start up the stairs once more. 

I walk to the main hall and take in the guards standing sentry at the doors. No one looks twice at me as I ghost through the hall with my robe swishing behind me. I stop when I see the throne room doors cracked open. I peak inside and sigh in relief that I’ve finally found him. 

I push the doors open to let me in and then seal us inside. As I walk up to him he is standing at the bottom of the stairs looking up at the throne gripping the crown in his hand. As I make it to his side I see the tears streaming down his face. I place the bottle of wine on the ground and stand in front of him. His puffy eyes look down to me as he sniffles. 

“Why do you cry, my love?” I whisper wiping his tears away. 

“I never wanted this.” his voice breaks along with my heart as the conquerors crown falls to the stone beside us. 

“I know,” my voice a whisper as I pull him down into a tight embrace. 

His arms wrap around me tightly as he lets out soft sobs into my neck. I rub his back soothingly hoping I can calm his breathing. His tears seep onto my neck as they continue to fall from his eyes. He pulls back and his normally bright violet eyes seem sunken and dull. 

“I wish Rhaenyra would come and kill me already.” he hiccups as his sobs start anew. 

Tears fall from my own eyes at his words. I knew his hurt was deep, but I didn’t know it went this far. We stand there for what feels like hours in each other’s embrace while taking turns wiping each other’s tears away. Through the windows I can see the dawn on the horizon and slowly pull back. 

“Come, I’ve found us our favorite wine.” I dip down to pick up the bottle. 

His hand slips into mine leading me out of the throne room, leaving the crown on the stone floor. The main hall of the castle seems to be slowly waking up as we walk out the main doors ignoring the guards calling after us. We make our way to the back of the castle to sit in the grass as we watch the sunrise over the bay with our wine. 

“Do you think she hates me?” Aegon murmurs while opening the bottle. 

“Who?” I tilt my head. 

“Rhaenrya. Mother. All of them. Everyone.” he sighs before taking a long drink of wine. 

“Rhaenyra probably hates mother more than we do.” I take the bottle and bring it to my lips. 

“Why would mother force this upon us? Father only ever talked about Rhaenyra. He never cared for us. He never wanted me to succeed him.” he buries his head in his hands. 

“I don’t know why we were placed on this path.” I rest my head on his shoulder as I pass the bottle back to him. 

The sun slowly rises into the sky and our empty bottle is discarded on the grass next to us. We lay back and look at the clouds simply enjoying the silence and company of each other. Our eyes slowly close as we curl into each other and allow sleep to take over as we soak in the morning sun. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

“Get up. Both of you.” I crack my eyes open and see Alicent and Cole standing above us. I pull Aegon to his feet beside me and we try to avoid our mother’s harsh gaze. 

“It seems as if we found the wine thief.” Cole says grabbing the empty bottle discarded on the grass. 

“Why must you both cause me so much trouble. Leaving your crown on the ground like it’s some toy. Sneaking into the cellars to steal wine. Gods I can’t take it anymore.” she seethes, throwing her hands into the air as she turns to Cole. 

“I didn’t ask for any of this.” Aegons words wobbly as his hand holds mine. 

“I assumed you both would rise to your new titles. Hoping you would sober up and become respectable. You both never cease to prove me wrong and embarrass me at every turn.” she looks us over with disgust as her words continue to slice into us. 

“You should’ve seized the crown for yourself if you wanted it so badly.” the words make it out of my mouth before I can even process them and she slaps me across the face. 

“Strike her again and I will have your hand. I may not want the crown but it will allow me to protect her.” Aegon looks to me before looking back to our mother who stands there shocked at his words. 

“You wouldn’t dare.” she scoffs shaking her head at us. 

“Ser Criston, escort the Queen Dowager back to her chambers. I fear she’s having a fit of hysteria.” Aegon stands taller and his words baffle me. 

“Aegon,” Alicent looks to him unamused.

“At once, Your Grace.” Cole nods to Aegon and starts to pull our mother back to the main doors of the castle. 

At their absence he turns to me and softly ghosts his fingertips across my red cheek. I look up to him and see the anger in his eyes as he continues to stroke my cheek. I feel the rest of my body heat at his soft touch. He’s not always so soft and delicate but I’ve never really minded. 

“Thank you,” I lean into his touch as his eyes slowly slide to mine. 

“I won’t allow anyone to hurt you anymore. We must come up with a plan.” he places a kiss on my forehead before leading me back into the Keep. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

The past couple of days have consisted of us trying to conjure up a plan to run away or somehow receive an audience with Rhaenyra. We’ve wrote countless letters but none of them seem good enough. Entertaining the idea of running away was all we did the entirety of the first day, but we don’t want to run anymore. We don’t want to be alone, we just want to be loved or die loving each other.

“Let us just send this one and be done with it.” Aegon sighs pushing his chair back from the table in our chambers. 

Sister

I never wanted this and I know father never wanted this. Please, can we meet on the shores and find common ground. I have no wish for the crown, you can have it. Please.

Aegon and Y/n

“I think this one will do what we need it to. She’ll either meet us on the beach or The Stranger will.” I sigh folding the parchment and sealing it with wax. 

“As long as we’re together.” he says softly looking up to me. 

“As long as we’re together.” I hum nodding my head. 

We leave our chambers as we walk to the tower where the ravens are kept. We send off the raven and watch as its wings carry our plea into the horizon. We walk down to the dining hall where we see the table empty and dusty. The Red Keep has been a shell since our father passed and our mother usurped the throne. 

“It seems as if we’ll be dining in our chambers again.” I sigh going to turn out of the hall. 

“No, have a seat and I’ll call the servants. We can dine here.” Aegon shakes his head and goes to pull out a chair for me. 

He pushes my chair in for me before leaving the hall and returns with a herd of servants trailing behind him. They quickly place and light candles around the hall helping bring some of the life back. Aegon slips into the chair next to mine as a servant comes and fills up our cups with wine. A smile spreads across my face as I recognize our favorite summer wine.

“Did you really take another bottle?” I turn to him and see him offering me a genuine smile. 

“We deserve our favorite wine with dinner,” he hums licking his lips. 

“Indeed,” I raise my glass to him and sigh as the sweet wine trickles down my throat.

The servants fill our plates and continue to bring out different dishes. Once we’re fully sated we retire back to our chambers. The heaviness of our disastrous apartments weighs us down as we seal the doors behind us. He pushes clothes and other miscellaneous items out of our path before he lets out a deep sigh and falls back on the bed. 

“Do you think Rhaenyra will listen to us?” he mumbles wiping his eyes. 

“We can only hope.” I hum as I crawl on the bed next to him. 

“If she doesn’t then this is our last night.” he turns to me with sad eyes but I can see the underlying relief that I know is mirrored in my own.

I press my lips to his softly. It starts off slow and innocent but soon he’s pulling me on top of him. He pulls my dress up around my waist and digs his fingers into my hips. His fingers find my wetness quickly and I’m gasping into his mouth. 

“Only place I want to die is between your thighs.” he breaks our kiss breathing heavily. 

He pulls me up his body and I know his desire. I slide off of him and lift my skirts to straddle his face. His hands grab my hips and places me on his lips. He places wet kisses along my thighs before licking my slit. I sigh in pleasure as he begins to swirl around my bud. My hips start to move against him and his responding groan sends vibrations straight to my core. 

“Aegon,” I breathlessly whine as his hands begin to slide me across his mouth. 

His tongue flicks against me relentlessly as my hips start moving on their own. His fingers dig into my thighs roughly as he feasts upon me. My body goes taught as I pulse around his tongue with his name falling from my lips. 

“Fuck, my King,” his tittle slips out before I can stop it. 

He seals his lips around my sensitive bud and my hips shutter from the pleasure he keeps offering me. I’m moaning loudly as he continues to rock me against his mouth. His tongue slips down to my core as his nose brushes against my bud. Pleasure starts to ripple through me as I toss my head back grinding down on to him. 

“Aegon, I-“ my voice breaks into a cry as he continues with his tongue. 

He chuckles into my wetness causing shockwaves to travel throughout my body. I’m babbling above him as he coaxes me through a third climax. My hands grab his to try and pry them from my hips. I finally collapse next to him on the bed and try to catch my breath. He starts to pull my dress off of me and once I’m bare his hands grab for my breasts. 

I start to lift his shirt off and he finishes removing it quickly following with his trousers. His hard length bounces against his stomach before he dips down to take one of my nipples into his mouth. I whimper as he bites down, pulling it between his teeth while he looks up to me through his thick lashes. He makes his way to my other peak to tease it with his teeth. 

My fingers thread through his hair before they go to the expanse of his back. I bring one of my hands between us to slowly start pumping him. He grunts as he continues to pull and tease my nipples. I swipe against his leaking tip and he whines against my chest. He removes himself from my breasts and watches my hand stroke him. 

“Fuck,” he pants as I start to pump him faster. 

He starts to jerk his hips into my hand as his head falls to my shoulder. He whimpers as he gets lost in his pleasure while sucking on my neck. His hand grabs mine and stops my movements. He trails his tip through my wetness causing a shiver to trail through me. 

He pushes into me and watches as my face relaxes in pleasure at his stretch. Once he’s fully bottomed out he grinds his hips into me slowly. I moan as my fingers dig into his shoulders as he keeps up his slow, deep movements as his hair falls into my face. I clench around him and his forehead falls to mine as his breaths come out heavier. 

He starts to rock his hips and I whine as he finally begins to move faster. His breath starts to come out in pants again as his hips start to snap into mine. I cling on to him as his pace quickens while moans pour from my mouth. He wraps one of my legs around his waist and I sob at the new angle. 

“Yes, Aegon,” I pant as I throw my head back into the pillow. 

He continues to rut into me and I bring my other leg to wrap around him and his hips falter at the deeper angle. My hips meet his as we chase our pleasure together. Our breath mingles while we whimper out each other’s names. 

“Love you so fucking much,” his words slurred from pleasure as he slams his hips into mine. 

Pleasure courses through me at his words as my walls contract around him. I feel him start to fill me as he continues to rock into me. His hips still and he leans down to capture my lips in a bruising kiss. I moan into his mouth as he grinds his hips into mine once more before slowly pulling out. 

“Just gimme a couple minutes,” he pants laying next to me. 

His hands trail all over my body as I try to catch my breath. His hands travel down to my soaked core as he slips his fingers in and begins to pump his seed back into me. My legs close around his hand as he curls his fingers wringing more pleasure from my body. I cry out his name as I flutter around his fingers and he pulls them out and brings them to his mouth. 

He groans and rolls on top of me to kiss me. I moan into his mouth at the taste of myself on him. He licks my lips and travels down my neck and stops at my breasts again. He attaches to one of my hardened nipples and roughly grabs my other breast. I arch my chest up into his mouth as his roughness causes more wetness to pool between my thighs. 

“Aegon, I need you,” I mewl trying to buck my hips into him but I end up just sliding myself on his thigh. 

He grunts from my chest and bends his knee so I can grind against his thigh. I have one hand buried in his silver locks while the other grips his shoulder as he peppers my chest with attention. My hips are feverishly grinding against his thigh looking for any friction they can find. I pull his hair to get his attention that I want him to move lower and he releases the nipple he’s been holding hostage. 

“Always so fucking needy.” he chuckles but kisses down my torso nonetheless. 

The second his tongue laps against my bud my hand is flying to his hair pulling him closer to me. I’m grinding against his face as sobs rack through me. He slams two fingers into me pulling pleasure from me. He pushes a third finger in and my eyes are rolling to the back of my head and moans fall from my mouth. My orgasm slams through me stealing my breath as I try to pull his face away from me. I get him about an inch away before his hand grabs my wrist. 

“Oh no no, my sweet girl this is what you wanted.” he chuckles lowly as his grip on my wrist tightens before he dips back down to continue licking at me. 

My whole body is shaking as his tongue zeros in on my clit. My thighs squeeze around his head as my chest heaves. My back arches off the bed as my fingers continue to pull at his hair. 

“Aegon, fuck Aegon, please,” I whine bucking my hips as pleasure bursts through me all over his face. He pulls away from my core with a wet face and a wide smile.

“Love when you do that,” he licks his lips before he shoves his tongue into my mouth. 

I moan into our kiss as I feel his length press against me. He humps against me and my legs quake in anticipation. He slips into my core and my eyes shut. His hands grab mine to hold them above my head as he pounds into me. 

“Gunna come again for me? Taking me so fucking good,” his pelvis grinds into my clit and I sob as pleasure ripples through me and I feel as if it’s never ending. 

He rolls his hips as pleasure begins to wash through him. I come clenching around him once more as my vision blurs. When my eyes open again he’s peppering kisses all around my face. As he moves I can still feel him buried deep in me and I whine squirming.

“I always think you’re the most perfect when you’re thoroughly fucked, flushed cheeks, still squeezing my cock.” he groans grinding into me. 

“Aegon,” tears prick at the edges of my eyes as he still pushes into me. 

He slowly pumps in and out chuckling at my whimpers. He pulls out which leaves me feeling empty. He slides down and lays between my thighs resting his head on my stomach. I run my fingers through his hair as we both come down from our highs. I shut my eyes as I keep my fingers tangled in his hair as his arms wrap around me tightly. 

“Do you love me?” he mumbles against my skin.

“You know I do, very much.” I hum still petting his hair. He snuggles into me as we drift off not caring what tomorrow holds as long as we’re together. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

masterlist 🔌 

this was super self indulgent 🫣😅 

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @anaviieiraaa @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @zanygot7straykidsbonk

[d20brainrot]

Part of this has been sitting on my drafts for a while and after Brennan's "Do you think Kristen even wants to be a cleric?" question (which was honestly my conclusion as well), I think Kristen's only problem is not executive dysfunction. She also does not know how to be a cleric in a healthy way.

She only knows how to be a follower. Kristen was not good at converting people for Helio either and lost her faith before learning. She probably associates that work with Helio, even as a prophet of a deity she created. I have seen a few people mention her position as a prophet must feel very similar to being Helio's chosen and I fully agree.

Also, there is a way to do chaos in a productive way but Kristen's ends up destructive because its chaos without purpose. I think we have seen all the ways embracing chaos has been good (creating Cassandra came from embracing doubt and chaos) and in this season we're really seeing the other side of chaos which is fear, confusion and anger in the face of uncertainty.

Side note: I think Fig is actually a decent example of chaos with purpose: her actions are absolutely insane ("I disguise myself as him" "I minor illusion a sexy rat") but usually have an end goal (I wanna get the racist pirate off Riz, I wanna find Zayn through his rat) and are within her capabilities which really works with being the archdevil of rebellion.

[zvaigzdelasas]

The defeat of a liberal Portland prosecutor at the hands of a tough-on-crime challenger has hardened a view among top White House officials that Democrats need to further distance themselves from their left flank on law-and-order issues.[...]

The White House is banking on the idea that voters will reward them for public efforts to crack down on immigration and boost spending on law enforcement — and, perhaps as importantly, that the liberal forces that so effectively moved the party away from those planks in 2020 won’t punish the president come November.[...]

But the president has not needed much convincin[sic] [...] having personally favored an approach that emphasizes more traditional support for law enforcement alongside criminal justice reforms. Biden spent much of his half century in politics as an ardent advocate for law enforcement and anti-crime measures, a reputation that complicated his path to the 2020 Democratic nomination amid scrutiny over his role in passing a controversial 1994 crime bill.

And even as the broader party shifted leftward [sic] on issues like police funding and immigration during that period, Biden sought to stake out a middle ground that often put him out of step with his progressive base — perhaps most notably using his first State of the Union address in 2022 to exhort lawmakers to “fund the police.”

In recent months, Biden has warned advisers that scenes of chaos at the border or crime in cities pose an increasing political danger. They risk turning off the independent and suburban voters, he’s said, who may be repulsed by much of Donald Trump’s policies and personality but could be willing to vote for him anyway in the name of public safety.[...]

Biden and his senior-most aides are united on the need to push for greater border security. [...]

“The narrative about Democrats on crime became deeply distorted after Defund the Police became kind of a thing,” [sic] said Matt Bennett, executive vice president for public affairs at the center-left think tank Third Way. “In fact, [Biden] has been very aggressive about funding the police, and has flipped around that narrative in ways that I think are really helpful.”[...]

The White House, to that end, has battered Republicans in recent days over their abandonment of a bipartisan border security bill that would’ve imposed strict new limits on immigration.

The legislation, which Senate Democrats are forcing a vote on for the second time this week, has fueled blowback among progressive and Latino lawmakers who blasted its “extreme and unworkable enforcement-only policies.”

But Biden has fully embraced the measure, repeatedly emphasizing the tough restrictions it’d put in place and criticizing Republicans for stalling the bill solely to avoid handing him an election-year victory. The White House is also preparing an executive order on immigration as a fallback, in a long-germinating [sic] display of his commitment to a border crackdown.

The president has also made a point of voicing support for law enforcement in recent weeks. He refused to criticize police conducting mass arrests of pro-Palestinian protesters on college campuses, even as he backed the right [sic] to peacefully protest. And he’s repeatedly touted a plan to invest $37 billion in crime provision [...]

There is also deep-seated fear throughout the party of the alternative: A Trump presidency that has made clear it would prioritize mass deportations and sharp shifts away from the progress [sic] Biden has made on other criminal justice issues like gun violence prevention.

23 May 24

[moonselune]

I'm not the same anon who requested for BG3 ladies reacting to gn!Tav's silly sacrifice but could I request for the same prompt with Gale, Wyll, Astarion, and Halsin? - emoji anon

Hey emoji anonnnn, absolutely hope you enjoy it!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The battlefield was chaos. Spells flew, swords clashed, and the cries of battle filled the air. Gale was caught up in a complex incantation, focusing intently on the weave of magic he was about to unleash. He didn’t see the enemy closing in on him, a blade poised to strike.

Without hesitation, you dashed across the battlefield, pushing through the pain and exhaustion that already weighed heavily on your limbs. The blade came down, aimed directly at Gale, but you intercepted it, feeling the sharp sting as it cut deep into your side. With a swift motion, you retaliated, your weapon finding its mark and finishing off the attacker.

Gale’s spell went off, obliterating another group of enemies, but his triumph was short-lived as he turned and saw you, bloodied and swaying on your feet. Panic flashed in his eyes as he rushed to your side.

“Are you okay?” you managed to ask, your voice shaky. “You’re not too hurt, are you?”

Gale’s eyes widened in horror as he took in the severity of your wounds. “Am I okay? What about you? You’re covered in blood!” His hands trembled as he reached out to steady you, fear and concern etched into his features. “Hold on, we need to get you some healing.”

You tried to smile, but it came out more as a grimace. “I’m fine, just a scratch.” Your vision blurred, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of consciousness.

Gale didn’t waste a moment. He muttered a healing incantation, his hands glowing with a soft, warm light as he pressed them to your wounds. “Stay with me,” he urged, his voice filled with determination. “You saved my life. Now let me save yours.”

As the healing magic coursed through you, some of the pain ebbed away, and you felt a bit more stable. Gale’s face was inches from yours, his eyes filled with gratitude and love. “You’re so reckless,” he chided gently, his voice breaking. “But thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You managed a weak smile, your hand reaching up to touch his cheek. “Anything for you, Gale. Always.”

He pulled you into a tender embrace, his heart pounding with relief. “Rest now. I’ll keep you safe.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The clamor of battle surrounded you, but your focus was on Astarion. He was fighting off two foes, his movements graceful yet deadly. However, he was so engrossed in the fight that he didn’t see the third enemy sneaking up behind him, blade raised for a fatal strike.

You acted on pure instinct. Ignoring the pain already coursing through your body from earlier wounds, you leapt forward, taking the blow meant for Astarion. The blade cut deep, but you gritted your teeth and fought through the pain, swiftly dispatching the attacker before they could cause any more harm.

Astarion finished off his opponents and turned just in time to see you standing there, blood pouring from the gash in your side. His eyes widened in shock and fury.

“You fool!” he exclaimed, rushing to your side and catching you as you started to collapse.

“Are you okay?” you asked, your voice weak but insistent. “You’re not too hurt, are you?”

Astarion’s anger melted into a mix of worry and exasperation. “Am I okay? Look at you! You’re bleeding out!” His hands were already moving, trying to staunch the flow of blood. “Why did you do that?”

You tried to smile, though it was more of a pained grimace. “I couldn’t let you get hurt. You mean too much to me.”

Astarion’s eyes softened, though his lips still held a hint of a scowl. “You ridiculous, brave idiot,” he muttered, his voice trembling. He tore a piece of fabric from his sleeve, pressing it to your wound. “Stay with me, love. We’re not done yet.”

You felt the edges of your vision darkening, but Astarion’s voice anchored you. “I’m here,” you murmured, trying to keep your focus on him.

Astarion’s hands were steady now, though his face was a mask of concentration and worry. “You are not allowed to die on me,” he said fiercely. “Not after everything we’ve been through.”

He managed to stop the bleeding enough to give you some stability, and he held you close, his face inches from yours.

“You’re so infuriatingly selfless,” he whispered, his tone softening. “But I love you for it. Just promise me you won’t do something like this again.”

You nodded weakly, your hand reaching up to touch his cheek. “Anything for you, Astarion.”

He kissed you gently, a mix of relief and love in his eyes. “Rest now. I’ll take care of the rest.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The battlefield was a chaotic blur of clashing steel and magic. Wyll, absorbed in a fierce duel with a powerful foe, didn’t see the enemy creeping up behind him. You noticed just in time, your heart pounding as you rushed forward, ignoring everything else. The blade aimed for Wyll’s back found you instead, slashing deeply across your side. With a fierce cry, you fought off the enemy, finishing them with a swift and decisive blow.

Wyll turned, eyes wide with shock and horror as he saw you stagger, blood staining your clothes. “No!” he shouted, rushing to your side. “Why did you do that? Are you mad?”

You managed a weak smile, trying to stay upright despite the pain. “Are you okay? You’re not too hurt, are you?”

Wyll’s eyes were filled with a mix of anger and worry as he quickly assessed your injuries. “I’m fine, but you… you’re not,” he said, his voice trembling. “You’re hurt badly.”

You swayed on your feet, the world spinning around you. “Just wanted to make sure you’re safe,” you murmured, feeling your strength ebb away.

Without another word, Wyll scooped you into his arms, carrying you to the safety of the nearby camp. He laid you down gently, his hands glowing with healing magic as he worked to close your wound. “You’re not doing this again,” he muttered, his voice a mix of determination and fear. “I won’t lose you.”

You could see the worry etched on his face, but you managed a faint smile. “I’d do it again… to keep you safe,” you whispered.

Wyll shook his head, a tear slipping down his cheek. “No more heroic sacrifices, love. We protect each other, remember?”

You nodded weakly, feeling the warmth of his healing magic seep into your body. “I remember,” you said softly, your eyes closing as exhaustion took over. “Thank you, Wyll.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The battle raged around you, and Halsin was busy fending off a group of enemies when you saw a foe raising their weapon behind him. Without a second thought, you dashed forward, intercepting the blow meant for him. Pain exploded in your side as the weapon sliced into you, but you gritted your teeth and retaliated, swiftly dispatching the enemy.

Halsin turned at the sound of your cry, his eyes widening as he saw you bloodied but victorious.

“What have you done?” he exclaimed, rushing to your side. “My love, why?"

You gave him a strained smile, barely able to stand. “Are you okay? You’re not too hurt, are you?”

Halsin’s expression softened, but his worry was palpable. “I’m fine, but you… you’re hurt badly,” he said, his voice tight with concern. “Why didn’t you call for help? Or alert me to the danger?”

You tried to stay upright, but your legs felt like jelly. “Didn’t have time.... Had to make sure you were safe,” you replied, your voice growing weaker.

With a gentle but firm grip, Halsin lifted you into his arms, carrying you away from the battlefield. He found a quiet spot and laid you down carefully, his hands already glowing with druidic magic as he began to heal your wounds.

“You’re too precious to me to be taking such risks,” he said, his voice both stern and loving.

You could feel the warmth of his magic soothing your pain, and you managed a faint smile. “Just wanted to protect you,” you whispered.

Halsin’s eyes were filled with tenderness and frustration. “I can take care of myself,” he replied, his hands moving steadily over your wounds. “But seeing you hurt… it’s unbearable, my heart.”

You reached up weakly, touching his cheek. “I’ll be okay,” you said softly. “Thanks to you. My big bear.”

Halsin chuckled and leaned down, the healing magic clearly getting to you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Rest now, love. We’ll talk about your reckless bravery later,” he murmured. “For now, just let me take care of you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

These were a little short but I hope y'all liked them - Seluney xox

[chaos-bites]

Loki is chaos, yes, but there is comfort in chaos. There is comfort in change. Change can be terrifying, but embracing that fear is so freeing. Embracing the newness of it all, the rebirth. If we stayed the same, we would never grow or learn. Life would become too stagnant, too boring. There would be no sense of adventure. There would be nothing new. Change is required, even if it is chaos. Loki is chaos, yes, but there is comfort in chaos.

[geoviki]

Mo Guan Shan’s Big Feelings

Mo Guan Shan, resident tsundere of 19 Days, pretends to be tough and hard-hearted.  But he’s easily and frequently reduced to tears, as we soon realize.  In fact, he cries so often in the story that this post is pretty massive.

MGS cries as a child, of course.  He’s in a clinic in his mom’s arms when She Li first becomes obsessed with him (ch 294).

MGS has a bad dream about the day his dad told little Guan Shan he couldn’t come to the school’s robot fair (ch 392).

MGS cries in other dreams too.  Soon after meeting He Tian, he has a sensual dream of being comforted in He Tian’s arms after being bullied.  Look closely – there are little tears falling as He Tian assures him he’s the “most invincible badass.” (ch 250)

True to form, he cries in the Santa fantasy extra when his house is destroyed (ch 345).

MGS cries when he’s frustrated, like in this episode after the play when he can’t untie himself to pee (ch 359).

MGS is a weepy drunk as well.  After accidentally destroying Brother Qiu’s bike (ch 427), he drunkenly sobs in bed as he vows to somehow repay him. 

Later, while MGS is still drunk, He Tian slips and falls while carrying him, ripping Mo’s pants in front of He Cheng (ch 429).  MGS cries from embarrassment.

Unsurprisingly, MGS cries over his dad.  After He Tian unknowingly brings him to dinner at what is probably his father’s former restaurant, we see a young MGS in flashback crying in fear at the chaos around him.  Present-day MGS flees and He Tian finds him crying in the parking lot (ch 217)

One of the more moving chapters shows MGS breaking down as he visits his father in prison for the first time (ch 240).

MGS cries from sheer anger in several chapters.  The earliest is when He Tian forces an unwanted kiss on him as a misplayed joke (ch 174-175).  He Tian is taken aback by Mo’s strong, tearful reaction.  It’s probably the first time someone doesn’t try to placate He Tian when he’s being a jerk, and he begins to take MGS more seriously after this.

MGS tries to end his friendship with He Tian after the school play that indirectly causes him to lose his meager job.  He Tian doesn’t help matters by waving money at him as they quarrel.  MGS weeps with anger and says, “Standing with you makes me feel like a failure.”  (ch 364)

He cries in anger once more as he watches incredulously as She Li incinerates his backpack (ch 368).  (She Li seems to walk around carrying gasoline like it’s no big deal – what’s up with that?)

MGS cries when he’s worried.  When he digs frantically through the mudslide during their ill-fated mountain hike, he thinks He Tian has been buried alive.  When He Tian calls out, MGS throws his teary self into He Tian’s arms (ch 329).

MGS’s worry is clear when the last violent fight with She Li is finally over and He Tian has won (ch 408).  The battle was so fierce that by the end He Tian is crying too, and soon they’re embracing (I sense a pattern here!)

MGS often cries when his emotions overwhelm him.  Early on, after MGS is rescued from the fiasco of agreeing to take the blame for a serious crime, He Tian tells him, “Don’t try to shoulder everything yourself.” (ch 188).  MGS tears up at the thought that someone like He Tian has his back.

MGS ends up full-on sobbing in He Tian’s arms (again) when he finally admits why She Li has a hold over him: because of the homeless man who tried to kill him (ch 319).

In one of the most traumatic scenes (and a personal favorite), both guys shed a lot of tears when He Tian finds him after She Li has tortured and burned him (ch 369-370).  These chapters mark a turning point in their relationship from friends to more.

MGS is shown when he’s happy only once, and that memorable event will happen in their future: that Christmas night when He Tian returns and proposes with matching rings (ch 412).  Cue the waterworks!

Thanks to all of the translators who provide the English versions of the story!

[sweetvoidstuff]

See you later, sweetheart II Cha Hyun Su x Reader

Cha Hyun Su x Reader

Summary: In the aftermath of a battle, the dimly lit staircase is charged with tension as Hyun Su's monstrous side emerges, questioning your loyalty to Hyun Su. You stand your ground, earning an unexpected shift in the monster's demeanor.

the first part, kinda ~~~~~ the next part, kinda

Masterlist

~~~~~

The atmosphere in the dimly lit staircase is heavy with the aftermath of the battle, the air thick with the scent of adrenaline and the metallic tang of blood. Hyun Su's spear leans against the wall, and you glance over at him, catching the blackened eyes that signal the presence of his monstrous side. His usual gentleness is eclipsed by the emergence of this alter ego. A shiver runs down your spine, having seen his blackened eyes only in passing until now. As you approach cautiously, his monstrous self smirks.

"Well, look who decided to stick around," the monster purrs, a flirtatious edge to its voice. "He must be something special to you to endure the chaos that is Hyun Su."

Your response was swift, your tone firm and scolding. "He fought to protect me. You should appreciate that."

The monster chuckles, its demeanor still confident. "Oh, I do. But let's be real, sweetheart. You've been hanging around a weakling. Why stay?"

Your response is swift, defending Hyun Su with determination. "Hyun Su isn't weak. He cares. He helps wherever he can. He protects us."

Before you can continue, the monster raises an intrigued eyebrow. "You really believe that, huh? Weaklings like him need protection, and you seem more than willing to provide it."

Undeterred, you stand your ground. "He's worth it. I won't abandon him."

A smirk plays on the monster's lips as it issues a veiled threat. "You've got spirit, I'll give you that. But don't think I won't get rid of you if you become a problem."

With a step closer, you declare boldly, "Good luck with that. I'm not going anywhere."

Unexpectedly, the monster's demeanor shifts, and its smirk transforms into a full-on smile. "Well, well. Quite the brave one, aren't you? Looks like Hyun Su has found someone who won't break easily. Maybe you're not so bad after all."

As the tension eases, the monster steps even closer, closely watching your every expression. Your confusion is apparent, along with your sweet smell that reaches its heightened senses. The dismissive attitude begins to shift, replaced by an acknowledgment of your resilience and, perhaps, an unusual fondness.

Before you can say more, the monster straightens its back with a chuckle. "We will see." Hyun Su's body slumps forward, and you instinctively catch him. The blackened eyes revert to their normal dark brown, signaling the return of the Cha Hyun Su you knew.

Hyun Su blinks, his eyes slowly returning to their usual dark brown. A flicker of fear and confusion crosses his face as he finds himself in your arms, the intensity of the moment bringing a sense of vulnerability. His breathing is uneven, and he stammers, "I-I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened. Did I hurt you?"

You shake your head, a comforting smile on your lips as you reassure him, "No, you didn't hurt me. Your... other side just talked, that's all. But we should probably get out of here before another monster finds us."

Realizing that he is still in your arms, Hyun Su's cheeks flush with embarrassment. However, rather than stepping back, he instinctively holds onto you, pulling you into a more intimate embrace. "Sorry," he whispers, his voice soft and genuine, "I just thought he could have…" unable to finish his sentence.

Your heart skips a beat at the closeness, and you smile, placing a reassuring hand on his back. The two of you stand in the dimly lit staircase, finding solace in each other's arms. The tension begins to melt away as Hyun Su's uncertainty transforms into a shared understanding. "I'm not going anywhere."

He steps back slowly, creating some distance between you two, and nods in agreement, blushing. "Y-yeah, you're right. We should go."

The two of you carefully make your way down the staircase, navigating through the remnants of the battle. As you walk, Hyun Su can't help but steal glances at you, his gaze searching for any sign of discomfort or fear. You catch his eyes and offer a reassuring smile, silently affirming the bond that has deepened between you.

The air between you becomes charged with unspoken words, a mix of vulnerability and trust. As you reach the bottom of the staircase, you glance back, making sure no lurking monsters are ready to ambush you. The atmosphere is tense before you walk back to the others. Hyun Su, still wrestling with the fear that his monstrous side instilled, speaks hesitantly, "I never wanted you to see that side of me. It's... unpredictable and dangerous."

You turn to look at him, offering a warm smile. "Hyun Su, you're not a danger. Your other side, it's a part of you, but it didn't harm me. I trust you."

As the tension from the encounter began to dissipate, Hyun Su's steps became lighter, and he glanced at you with a newfound warmth. "Thank you," he whispered, his gratitude echoing through the empty halls.

With newfound determination, the two of you continued your journey, navigating the labyrinth of dangers that awaited. The bond between you and Hyun Su, tested by the shadows of his monstrous side, seemed to grow stronger as you faced the challenges together.

[sleep-deprivedracoon]

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f! reader

word count: 3680 Summary: Satoru doing his best to get you out of your downward spiral. He failed Suguru but he won't fail you. Author's note: based on this prompt. I think I speak for most of the fandom when I say we all need some extra fluff and love from Gojo after the week we've had with the anime and manga. So this one is for all of us Gojo wives. Ngl, I am literally shaking right now as I dare to post this. I don't know if y'all will like this or if this just flops. CW: depression, food habits, angst, implied relationships, patterns of isolation, fluff, angst to comfort, helplessness, mentions of smoking

Satoru Gojo stood before your door, an unusual sense of foreboding gnawing at the edges of his normally self-assured demeanor. It was a feeling he wasn't accustomed to, one that clashed against the confident façade he typically wore like armor. He couldn't shake the nagging sensation that something was terribly wrong with you, something that went far beyond the physical injuries. It had been weeks since you returned from that mission, and something had changed in you—It was as if something was tearing you apart from the inside.

He'd delved into the mission reports, scouring through the details, looking for any signs of what might have transpired. The mission had been a success, technically flawless, with only a handful of unfortunate bystanders caught in the crossfire. You'd managed to take down a first-grade curse with no fatalities—by all accounts, it should have been considered a triumph. So why had it left you so shattered?

As the door creaked open, revealing you on the other side, his sharp eyes caught the flicker of a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

Your smile, once a beacon of light that never failed to brighten his day, now seemed a mere shadow of its former self. It was as though the spark within you had dimmed, leaving behind an empty echo of what used to be.

"Toru," you greeted, your voice a little too forced, a little too brittle.

Gojo pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a desperation he couldn't quite put into words. He pressed his lips to the top of your head, a gesture that had become second nature to him, a silent declaration of affection. “Hi, sweets.” he murmured, his voice tinged with concern.

As he held you, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was teetering on the edge of a precipice, that the ground beneath him was unstable. He hoped beyond hope that he was merely overthinking, that you were stronger than he feared. But deep down, he knew. He knew something was fundamentally wrong.

You gently pulled away, and he followed you into your apartment, his senses immediately assaulted by the disarray that greeted him. Sure, you were a chaotic person, but there was usually an organized chaos to your living space. Books strewn haphazardly on shelves, art supplies scattered on tables, and the comforting scent of incense in the air—all elements of your usual environment. The chaos was familiar, a reflection of your vibrant, unpredictable personality. But this... this was different. There was an air of neglect, a sense that even your usual disorder had lost its usual rhythm. He took in the scene—the scattered papers, the toppled books, the forgotten articles of clothing strewn across the floor. Each item seemed to whisper a tale of neglect; a story of a mind too preoccupied to care for its surroundings. He saw the remnants of a once vibrant spirit, now muted and worn.

He followed you into the kitchen, concern etched into his features. "Have you eaten yet?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine worry.

You mumbled a half-hearted "yes," but he wasn't fooled. He opened your fridge to place a few drinks, and his heart sank at the sight. It hadn't been stocked in a while; the shelves almost barren. It was a stark contrast to the usual assortment of ingredients and snacks he was accustomed to stealing. He glanced at you, silently noting the tired lines etching your face, the weariness in your eyes that belied your attempt at a smile

You stood beside him, trying to deflect his concern with a forced smile and a weak excuse. "I've been lazy, just ordering takeout."

He glanced at the trash can, noting its emptiness. He saw right through the lie, but he didn't push it. Instead, he turned his gaze back to you, taking in the disheveled state of your hair, the dullness in your eyes, the weight loss that had left you looking frail. It was a familiar dance—one he had witnessed before, with someone else he had cared for deeply. That smile you offered him, that empty, hollow smile with closed eyes, it hit him like a tidal wave of dread. It reminded Gojo of Suguru after Amanai's death—their once lively friend reduced to a mere shell, hiding behind a facade. The parallels between you and Suguru's descent sent a shiver down his spine.

The weight of helplessness settled like a leaden anchor in Satoru Gojo's chest. He cursed inwardly, the bitter taste of regret mingling with the dread that had consumed him. How was it happening again? Why was it always the ones he cared for the most? The memory of Suguru, his once-vibrant friend reduced to a mere shadow of himself, haunted him. He had failed Suguru, and that failure still weighed heavily on him.

The mantra of his own strength echoed in his mind, a bitter irony. He was the strongest, but in this moment, he felt powerless. Weak. Useless. Helpless. As you stood before him, offering a smile that barely masked the turmoil within, you felt so distant, so far away. It was as though an impenetrable barrier had risen between the two of you.

It had started weeks ago, with your return from that fateful mission. Even then, something had felt off. You had been fatigued, weary, and Gojo had been there for you, trying to help you unwind and recharge. But you barely spoke of the mission, your words guarded, your gaze distant. In the ensuing weeks, he had watched as you withdrew, not just from him, but from their students. He noticed how you declined Nobara’s invites to go shopping, how the playful banter with Megumi had all but disappeared. Even your calls with Yuta who was overseas had become brief, the once-lively conversations now reduced to strained exchanges.

He caught a whiff of smoke around you one evening, a scent that hung in the air like a lingering secret. He knew then, without needing to ask, that you had turned to cigarettes for solace. There were signs, always signs. The subtle shifts in behavior, the hollow looks, the moments of silence that stretched on longer than they should. But he had chosen to give you space, believing that time would allow you to heal and find your way back. It was a mistake, one he deeply regretted now as he saw the signs he had missed piling up.

Gojo's gaze settled on you once more, his heart heavy with concern. You had lost weight, your eyes dulled, your once-lustrous hair now a tangled mess. It was as though a part of you had withered away, leaving behind a hollow shell. The pain in his chest intensified as he realized that he couldn't afford to stand by and watch you slip away. He had to act, to break through the barrier you had unknowingly erected around yourself. But how? That was the question that haunted him as he searched your eyes for a way to reach you, to pull you back from the abyss you seemed to be falling into.

He turned to you, his eyes tracing the weariness etched into your features, the fragility in your frame. "Sweets," he murmured, his voice laced with a mix of concern and determination. "We can't keep going on like this. You don't have to face this alone.”

As Gojo's concerned gaze bore into you, he couldn't help but notice the immediate defensiveness in your body language. Your chuckle, dry and forced, cut through the air like a fragile attempt to push his worries away. "I'm okay, Toru," you insisted, your voice wavering just slightly.

"(Y/n) …" he urged; his voice gentle but firm. "You don't have to pretend with me. I can see that something's eating at you. You can rely on me, you know that, right? I'm here to shoulder whatever burdens you're carrying."

You met his gaze, eyes guarded, and shook your head, a hint of stubbornness in your expression. "Toru, really, I appreciate it, but I'm okay. You're worrying unnecessarily.”

You remained closed off, a wall of resistance that he couldn't breach. Your insistence that everything was fine felt like a dagger to his heart, but he understood that pushing you further at this moment could risk you shutting him out completely and he couldn't bear the thought of losing you to the darkness.

So, he accepted your words, even as they left a bitter taste in his mouth. "Alright, sweets. Just remember, I'm here whenever you're ready to talk."

Ordering takeout seemed like the most rational thing to do, a glimmer of normalcy in the midst of the storm. He chose a spicy Chow Mein with Gyoza on the side, knowing it was a combination that never failed to put a smile on your face. As the two of you sat in silence, he couldn't help but notice how you toyed with your food, pushing it around on the plate rather than really eating.

He teased gently, "You know, you're starting to remind me of a kid being forced to eat their vegetables. Come on, at least take a few bites for me."

You glanced up, a faint glimmer of amusement in your eyes, and complied, taking a few bites to prove a point. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. It was through these small steps, he realized, that he needed to slowly guide you back from the darkness that threatened to consume you.

After dinner, he bid you farewell, his footsteps heavy as he walked away from your apartment. Once out of your sight, he clutched his hair in frustration, a tumultuous storm of conflicting emotions swirling within him. He couldn't bear to see you like this, not again. He couldn't let another person he cared for slip into the abyss.

With a determined exhale, he removed his shades and reached for the black blindfold that he rarely wore when it was just the two of you. He tied it securely and looked back at the window to your apartment. In that moment, he vowed to himself that he wouldn't let you slip away. He would fight for you, even if it meant stepping into the darkness alongside you.

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

In the days that followed, Gojo remained steadfast in his determination to pull you out of the suffocating depths of depression that had ensnared you. He knew he couldn't do it alone, and admitting that fact was a monumental step for someone as self-reliant as him. It surprised even Shoko, who had known Gojo for years, to witness his newfound vulnerability.

He started with small, manageable gestures, well aware that overwhelming you would only push you further away. Slowly, he began to tidy up your apartment, one step at a time. He organized the scattered papers, straightened the toppled books, and restored a sense of order to the chaos that had overtaken the space. He did it in small iterations, so as to not catch you off guard.  He knew that even the semblance of cleanliness and organization could bring a sense of calm. Another day, he arrived with a bag of groceries, quietly slipping into your kitchen to prepare a meal. At times, he found himself sneaking food into you, taking advantage of moments when your mind wandered elsewhere. He'd feed you, offering fruits and treats while you mindlessly chewed on it, lost in thought. It was a silent promise that he was there to support you, to ensure you took care of yourself.

Then came the day he dragged you out, insisting that you join him and his students for a shopping excursion. It was an attempt to remind you that there was still joy and fun to be had, even in the midst of the world's worries. He made sure to bring his students along, Yuji and Nobara, who shared a single brain cell with their hairbrained schemes, and Megumi, who often found himself the target of their antics. As you wandered through the bustling market, you couldn't help but be drawn into the silliness that surrounded you. Yuji and Nobara's playful banter, Megumi's exasperation, and the way his students relied on you for the silliest of things slowly began to chip away at the darkness within you. There were moments when you couldn't help but smile, caught up in the absurdity of it all. Watching Yuji and Nobara embark on their ridiculous plans, seeing Megumi squirm in embarrassment, witnessing the camaraderie among his students—it all served as a poignant reminder that life held moments of levity, even in its darkest corners. Gojo reveled in these small victories, each one a testament to your gradual recovery. His approach was slow and deliberate, mixing moments of genuine concern with his signature goofiness.

"Hey, sweets," Gojo said, nudging you playfully as Yuji and Nobara attempted to outdo each other with their ridiculous purchases. "You see what I have to deal with every day? They're a handful. Why do I always end up taking care of brats?” He sighed in exaggeration.

The sound of your giggle was a melody that resonated in the depths of Satoru Gojo's being. He couldn't help but be drawn to the warmth in your laughter, a glimmer of the vibrant spirit that still lived within you. Your fingers brushed against his cheek, a gentle caress that sent a jolt of electricity through him. He leaned into the touch, his heart leaping at the connection.

"You know," you teased, patting his cheek affectionately, "you adopted these brats yourself. You're such a mother hen, Toru."

His lips curled into a playful smirk. "Well, what can I say? I've always had a soft spot for the misfits." He took your hand, pressing a soft kiss to your palm. "And I'm glad that this mother hen has you as my favorite rooster to come back to whenever I need a break from these rascals."

Your laughter, though still fragile, filled the room, a welcome sound that eased the weight in his heart. He was getting closer, step by step, to uncovering the vibrant spirit that resided within you.

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

Several days later, the Tokyo Jujutsu High planned a retreat to an Onsen resort in Gunma. The students shared rooms, and Gojo, in his usual annoying fashion, had managed to finagle Yaga into assigning you to share a room with him. After all, you were both teachers and adults—it shouldn't have been a problem.

Gojo sat on the tatami floor of your room, dressed in a yukata, having just returned from the baths. He sipped on cold coffee milk, enjoying the tranquil atmosphere of the traditional inn. When he heard the sliding door open, he looked up, and his heart skipped a beat. You looked ethereal in the Yukata, the fabric draping gracefully over your form. Your hair was still damp from the baths, strands clinging to your skin in a way that made his heart race. There was a newfound fullness to your cheeks, a healthy flush to your complexion that spoke of progress.

In that moment, he realized just how far you had come. The bags under your eyes were still there, but the overall transformation was striking. He clicked his tongue several times, pulling you gently to the tatami floor in front of him. He reached for the towel that hung around your shoulders and scolded you gently, "Sweets, you need to dry your hair properly. You'll catch a cold like this."

His fingers moved through your hair with a soothing touch, the room enveloped in silence save for the rustle of fabric and the soft hum of the night outside. He was meticulous, his actions deliberate as he dried your hair strand by strand. As he continued to pat your hair dry with gentle strokes, he noticed that you were trembling. Frowning, he stopped, his concern growing. And then he heard it—the soft, muffled sniffle that escaped your lips. In an instant, he turned you around to face him, his eyes widening as he saw the tears welling up in your eyes.

Before he could say a word, you began sobbing, your shoulders shaking with the force of your emotions. You buried your face in his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you cried. He didn't brush away your tears or offer empty reassurances. Instead, he let you cry, allowing the dam you had built around your emotions to finally break. He could feel the warmth of your tears soaking through his yukata, the shudders that racked your body, and the tremble of your hands as they clung to his robes. It was a raw, vulnerable moment, and he was there to bear witness to it, to share in your pain and offer his silent support. Gojo's touch was gentle, his hand stroking your back in a steady, rhythmic motion. He didn't speak, understanding that this moment was about you and your release. His heart ached with each anguished sob that wracked your body, but he remained a steadfast anchor, giving you the space you needed to let it all out.

As your sobs began to subside, your words spilled out in a torrent of emotion. You spoke of the mission, of how it had torn open old wounds, making you confront shadows from your past. The cursed technique of the first-grade curse had exploited your own memories, forcing you to relive the pain and uncertainty.

Gojo had been privy to your painful past, as you had confided in him long ago. He understood the emotional scars that had marked your journey, and now, he could see why you were descending into darkness.

Your voice trembled as you confessed your fear. You longed to return to the person you used to be, but you were terrified that you had lost yourself in the process. The fear that in losing yourself, you might also lose him gripped at your heart.

Gently, Gojo cupped your cheek, his sky-blue eyes locking onto yours. He removed his shades, allowing you to see the sincerity in his gaze. "No matter what version of yourself you present to me," he said, his voice soft but resolute, "I will love you. Whether you're happy, sad, angry, or anything in between, it doesn't change a thing. If you somehow turned evil, I'd love you. If you don’t want to be a sorcerer anymore, I’d love you. Even if you transformed into a worm, I'd love you. I will love every version of you that has been and that is yet to come, (Y/n). " He couldn't help but inject a touch of his signature playfulness into the moment. "Well, unless you turn into Gakuganji," he added with a mock shudder, "then you might be pushing it. But hey, I'll even love you if you morph into that old fart. Just… just don't test me on that one." He kisses your trembling lips gently. “I don’t think my heart could handle that.”

A small giggle burst from your lips, and you playfully swatted his arm, the sound like a gentle chime amidst your tears. It was a moment of relief, a brief respite from the weight of your emotions. Gojo couldn't help but chuckle in response, his grin boyish and goofy. “I will always love you (Y/n). Even if you lose yourself, I will walk with you to help you rediscover yourself. I am great at helping people find things. These six eyes are here for a reason, you know?”

You gently shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips as you leaned in to kiss Satoru Gojo on his lips, your gratitude and affection evident in the tender gesture. "Thank you," you whispered against his lips, "for being you."

His lips curved into a soft smile as he returned your kiss, savoring the warmth of your affection. "It's been my pleasure, (Y/n)," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. “After all, nobody is best at being Gojo Satoru other than Satoru Gojo himself.” He winks.

You continued, your voice barely above a whisper, "I know what you've been doing, Toru. All these days, you’ve been taking care of me, helping me even if I didn't want to admit it to myself. But I needed it, and I needed you."

Gojo's eyes softened as he gazed at you, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "If the roles were reversed, you would've done a far better and more efficient job," he admitted, a hint of shame coloring his voice. "I should've seen it sooner, (Y/n)."

You silenced him with a gentle finger against his lips, his mock pout making you smile. "Don't blame yourself, Toru," you murmured. "I didn't want you to find out, and it's not your fault. I feel lighter now than I have in days, although I am still struggling to cope.”

In response, Gojo spoke with unwavering determination, "I'll be here beside you, sweets. However you want and in whatever form you need.

“Whatever I need huh?” A wistful smile tugged at your lips. "Maybe turning myself into Gakuganji would help," you mused, a playful glint in your eyes. “won’t it, Toru?”

Gojo groaned dramatically, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. His fingers danced along your sides and ribs, eliciting giggles and laughter from you as you squirmed beneath his touch. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated joy. His fingers attacked your sides and belly, evoking peals of laughter from you. The tatami floor beneath you seemed to come alive with the sounds of your giggles and Gojo's playful laughter. As he tickled you mercilessly, Gojo's thoughts were clear—he would do anything to keep that light in your eyes, to see you smile, even if it meant turning into Gakuganji himself. Anything at all. And with every joyful laugh that filled the room, he knew he was one step closer to bringing you back to him.

Taglist - @hiraethsdesires Note to @hiraethsdesires: thank you, Hira. I thought I'd never be able to get back into writing again. I thought I had lost it. But it felt so nice to dive right into this again. The first character I had ever written for in this blog was Gojo. It feels just right to get back into it with him again.

[yanderestarangel]

Hey!! I love your work sm and I’d love to request something <3

Can I request a smut with MK1 Kuai Liang where he’s in need of comfort and love after Bi-Han betrayed him and Tomas? Thank you and I hope you have a great day <33

—"𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔" | 𝐊𝐔𝐀𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐆

A/N: Thanks for the request honey, I love writing soft b*tching.

TW: Smut, afab anatomy, vaginal sex, blowjob, no pronouns used other than 'you'.

You and Kuai Liang were married, he was always affectionate and sweet, and that night Kuai Liang came back to your house desperate, with a scar on his eye.

"-Bi Han... Bi Han betrayed us, he betrayed the Lin Kuei..." -Kuai Liang spoke sad, needy and looking to be comforted by you, while he looked at you, still feeling pain in his eye. You ran to meet your husband, worried about the wounds he had on his body and face, taking as many clean tissues and medicine as possible.

Kuai Liang softened as you attended to his wound, feeling your gentle touch soothing his pain. He looked into your eyes, his gaze filled with vulnerability.

"-Bi Han... he has turned against the Lin Kuei, our own brother. He's become a traitor, willing to sacrifice everything we stand for." -Kuai explained, his voice filled with a mix of sadness and anger.

"-He seeks power at any cost, even if it means turning his back on our clan and all that we hold dear." -He leaned closer to you, his voice dropping to a whisper. "-I fear the day may come when I must confront him, even if it means fighting my own flesh and blood."

Feeling safe and loved in your embrace, he leaned his head against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. He held your hand gently, seeking comfort in your touch. "-I'm sorry you have to witness this side of me, my love. I wish I could protect you from all this darkness."

You guided your tired husband to a hot bath, he looked... Tired, letting you take him and scrub away the dirt and dried blood that still existed on his skin, he just let you take care of him, his head was full of thoughts about an uncertain future. You guided Kuai to the room, watching him just fall on the bed, naked, looking at the window and moonlight that came in and illuminated the ninja's sore and muscular body, you just wanted to make him forget everything, and slowly touched him, kissing him passionately. Kuai Liang's body tensed up slightly as he felt your tender touch and your lips on his skin. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, basking in the warmth of your love and the pleasure you were giving him.

You progressively went down to his abdomen, while taking his dick in your hands, while putting Liang's throbbing length in your mouth, he moaned softly as you lovingly sucked on his hardening member. His hips involuntarily bucked, seeking more of your touch and your mouth. Reaching down, he gently caressed your hair, enjoying the feel of it between his fingers as you continued to pleasure him. Each stroke and lick sent waves of pleasure coursing through his body, momentarily pushing aside his pain and worries. Kuai let out a low growl, a mixture of lust and longing, as his fingers tightened in your hair. "-Yes, my love... just like that. Suck my cock... make me forget everything but you..." -His voice was filled with desire and need, his body becoming more responsive to your every touch. He arched his back, offering himself more fully to you, his moans growing louder and more urgent, as you continued to tease and please him, his mind began to drift away from the chaos and betrayal that plagued him. He became lost in the sensations you were evoking, his focus solely on the pleasure you were giving him, allowing him to momentarily forget about the world outside.

You soon see Kuai tighten the sheets beneath him, a clear sign that he wanted to cum, but you wanted to please him even more by moving your mouth away from his pulsing shaft, you crawled on the bed, towards his dick, quickly positioning your pussy on his dick, without even having time to think about using some kind of protection. Kuai Liang's breath hitched as he felt your tightness enveloping him, his eyes widening with a mix of surprise and pleasure. He gripped your hands tightly, his fingers interlacing with yours, offering you support and stability, he couldn't help but groan as he felt the warmth and wetness of your pussy surrounding him, making him throb even more inside you. He admired the sight of you straddling him, your delicate body pulsing with pleasure. The vulnerability and intimacy of the moment stirred a deep fire within him, driving him to possess and protect you. His hands trailed up your sides, his touch gentle as they settled on your waist, guiding your movements on his cock. He met your thrusts with his own, the delicious friction intensifying the pleasure for both of you.

"-Oh... Fuck my love... You feel so amazing... so tight around me." -Slowly, he adjusted his grip on your hands, guiding them to his broad chest. His muscles rippled beneath your touch as he watched you, he allowed himself to be consumed by the sensations, his body acting on pure instinct, giving in to the overwhelming pleasure you provided. The room filled with the symphony of your moans and the rhythmic sounds of your bodies colliding.

"-You make me forget all the pain, all the betrayals... I only want you, right here, right now... Damn... I love your little pussy wrapped around my cock..." -Kuai Liang's thrusts grew more urgent and fervent, he lost himself in the rhythm of your bodies, the feeling of your tightness gripping him, taking him to new heights of lust.

"-I want to hear you scream my name, come for me (Y/N)..." -he growled, his voice filled with overflowing need. His grip on your waist tightened as he took control, his thrusts becoming more forceful and confident. He plunged into you relentlessly, his pace unyielding as if he could never get enough of you. As you continued to ride him, the coil of pleasure within you built higher and higher, threatening to explode. Your moans grew louder, and with each one, he felt his own pleasure intensify, feeling your walls tighten around him, Kuai Liang knew you were close. His hand slipped between your bodies, reaching to stimulate your sensitive clit. He teased and rubbed, adding another layer of sensation to push you over the edge. "-Fuck, Feel my cock deep inside you. You belong to me, body and soul. Give in to the pleasure, and scream my name." -He continued to suckle on your breast, alternating between gentle licks and powerful suction, leaving a trail of wet kisses along your skin. With his free hand, he brought it down in a firm but controlled spank on your ass, the sound of the impact echoing in the room. Kuai Liang was completely lost in the fervor of the moment, his eyes locked on you, wanting to witness your release, he could feel his own release approaching, the tightness in his balls ready to burst.

With a low growl, he released himself inside you, his hot seed filling you completely. He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he found his release.

In the afterglow of your shared climax, Kuai Liang held you tightly, his heart racing against yours. He placed gentle kisses on your skin, his voice filled with love and devotion. "-Thank you (Y/N)... thank you for taking care of me... I just love you my angel."

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[guccifrog]

WRONG NUMBER P13

matt sturniolo x f!reader

y/n's pov ☆

It has been exactly five hours since they discovered the mix-up. Chris, Jimmy, and Marylou decided to go check the police station to see if they could find any updates about Matt.

Me and Nick decided to go on a little drive in my car to clear our heads. As we were driving, I could feel the tension in the air. Nick kept looking out the window, lost in his thoughts, while I tried to think of something to say to make him feel better.

"Hey, you know, at least there is still a chance that this is some sort of mistake, right?" I said to Nick, trying to sound more optimistic than I felt. "They're working on finding Matt and getting this sorted out. We just need to have faith in them."

He looked over at me, his eyes red from crying. "Yeah, you're right," he said, his voice barely audible.

We drove around for a while longer, neither of us saying much. The silence was almost painful, but neither of us knew what to say to make it better. Finally, Nick spoke up, breaking the silence. "I keep thinking about that guy on the bed. How his family must feel right now. It's just…unbelievable."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The image of that man, so peaceful in his sleep, haunted me. I couldn't imagine the pain his family must be going through, thinking he was gone when he was really just a victim of this horrible mistake.

"Do you think he was rich though?" I asked smirking slightly "Like, really rich? Cause he looked pretty comfortable to me. I mean, that bed was like a fucking cloud." Nick chuckled a little, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"I'm just saying, maybe after this mess is done, I'll go ask him to be my sugar daddy if he's still alive" I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"stop oh my god," Nick said giggling "What? your girl needs a little money to feel better" I said with a smirk. "You know, if he was rich, I bet he'd be more than willing to help a girl out." I glanced over at Nick, trying to gauge his reaction. He was smiling, I grinned satisfied that I'd managed to make him laugh.

We drove in silence for a few more minutes before Nick decided to break the silence again " I'm so mad we met in these fucked up circumstances, you know?" I smiled softly at him " Well at least we met, right? I mean, even if it's under these horrible conditions. Maybe one day we'll look back at this and laugh about it." He snorted a little "So real girl "

We decide to grab some coffee from Starbucks to clear our heads. As we sit there, talking about random things or scrolling through our phones, I take a sip of my coffee, burning the roof of my mouth. "Ouch, damn it's hot," I complain, blowing on the coffee.

Nick suddenly shoots up from his seat, staring at his phone with wide eyes "Oh my god" he says. "what? What is it?!" I ask him, my heart racing.

He looks at me with his mouth agape, trying to find the right words. " It's Matt…they found Matt!!" he exclaims, his voice cracking.

I feel my whole body go limp with relief. "They found him at a different hospital !" He hugs me tightly, tears streaming down his face. I'm crying too, unable to contain my happiness. We sit there in the Starbucks, surrounded by the noise and chaos, but for a brief moment, nothing else matters but the fact that Matt is alive.

"Do you know what hospital?" I manage to ask between sobs, clinging to Nick.

"Chris sent me the address, let's go," He says, already halfway out of the seat. I follow him, feeling a mixture of excitement and fear as we both know what we're about to face.

The drive seems to take forever, but eventually, we pull up to the hospital and spot Jimmy's car in the parking lot. Our feet are moving before we even have the chance to think, hurrying into the building.

We find Chris and Marylou in the waiting room, looking just as relieved as we feel. They jump up when they see us, and we embrace tightly, not wanting to let go.

It feels like we're all holding our breath, waiting for the moment when we can see Matt again. The nurse finally calls our names, and we follow her down the hallway.

Our steps slow as we approach the door, our hearts racing. The nurse pushes it open, revealingn none other than Matt lying in the bed.

He looks tired and pale. We all rush forward, surrounding his bed.

"Hey buddy, you're gonna be okay," Chris says, squeezing his hand. The nurse cleared her throat making us turn to look at her.

"The good news is that he's alive," the nurse started. "He's still unconscious, but he's stable for now. He'll probably be unconscious for a few days but don't worry he'll wake up" She paused for a moment

" However, he suffered severe injuries, There is a chance that he may never regain full cognitive function or the ability to walk."

The words hang in the air, heavy.

"come again?" Chris said, his eyes wide with shock.

"Oh God," I whisper, smacking my hand over my mouth. I feel like I've been punched in the gut. Can't we just have one good thing today?

"you're joking right?" Nick asks, his voice cracking. The nurse rolled her eyes before shaking her head no. The fuck is this bitch rolling her eyes for?

taglist ☆

@mattestrella @chrisfavoritepepsi @sunsetsturniolos @littlebookworm803 @sturniozo @sturniolooooo @athaliahxoxo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ev3rgreenxtrees @nonamegirlxsturniolo @crybabycat1 @mooniethesimp31 @ducksturniolo @ifilwtmfc @pepsiimaxx @sleepysturnss @lustfulslxt @ilovemattsworld @hrt-attack @flowerxbunnie @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @secret-sturniolo @iluvmeeen @that-general-simp @swangelss @familynotfandom @fuckshitslover @styles-sturniolo @lvr-111 @opheliaofficial07 @kiarastromboli @hearts4chriss

[doumadono]

CONGRATULATIONS !!! Could I please get a cup of vanilla ice cream with maple syrup, preferably for Neuvilette or Wrio or Itto? (I'll take whatever you're offering, your writing is flawless!)

A/N: thank you, dear Nonnie! You're so sweet! Since you didn't specify the plot, I decided to create a few short sweet scenes with the boys

5k FOLLOWERS EVENT MASTERLIST GENSHIN IMPACT MASTERLIST

Wriothesley

Wriothesley found himself at a loss for words one dreary afternoon as he sat in his study, surrounded by stacks of parchment and ink-stained quills. Lost in thought, he was startled by the soft sound of your footsteps approaching.

"Wrio, darling, are you alright?" you asked, your voice filled with concern as you gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

The man sighed, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of vulnerability. "I fear I won't finish signing all these documents today, my dear. Try as I might, I cannot seem to finish this task that our beloved Neuvilette bestowed upon me."

Your eyes softened with understanding as you took a seat on his comfortable lap, your presence a comforting balm to his troubled soul. "Perhaps you simply need a gentle nudge in the right direction," you suggested with a tender smile. "If I were in your shoes, I'd suggest beginning with the lengthiest documents you have to sift through."

And so, with your encouragement, Wriothesely found himself immersed in a flurry of his stint, his quill dancing across the parchment. As the signatures flowed effortlessly from his pen, Wriothesley realized that his greatest muse that always helped him stayed focused had been by his side all along. As you settled into the comfortable embrace of his lap, his spare hand tenderly tracing the curve of your waist, he found himself consumed by thoughts of his deep affection for you. It wasn't merely your physical beauty that captivated him, but also the profound wisdom that emanated from your mind, weaving an irresistible charm that bound him to you completely.

Itto

Arataki found himself in an unexpected predicament one sunny afternoon. Amidst the chaos of his usual training routine, he stumbled upon a delicate sakura tree in full bloom. Entranced by its beauty, he couldn't help but admire it, his rough hands reaching out to caress the soft petals.

"Hey, Itto! What are you doing over there?" you called out, a spirited warrior with a heart of gold.

Itto turned, a bashful grin spreading across his rugged features. "Ah, just admiring this sakura tree. Reminds me of you, y'know? Beautiful and strong."

Your eyes sparkled with amusement as you approached, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. "You big softie," you teased, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Come on, let's enjoy the blossoms together."

And so, amidst the fluttering petals and gentle breeze, Itto and you spent the afternoon basking in each other's company, your laughter echoing through the tranquil grove.

Neuvilette

The Iudex, the suave and sophisticated man, found himself in a rather peculiar situation one evening as he strolled through the lush gardens of his estate. As he rounded a corner, he nearly collided with you, his girlfriend, a radiant beauty with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes.

"Ah, there you are, my dear," Neuvilette said with a charming smile. "I've been looking for you."

You giggled, a playful glint in your gaze. "I was hoping to steal a moment alone with you, away from the prying eyes of society."

Neuvilette's heart skipped a beat as he took your delicate hand in his own. "My dear, you need only ask, and I would gladly whisk you away to the ends of the earth."

With a soft laugh, you leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear. "Then how about we start with a romantic stroll under the moonlit sky?"

And so, hand in hand, Neuvilette and you wandered through the gardens, your laughter mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves as you savored the magic of the night.