#severe trigger warnings if you decide to read

[03jyh23]

— 2 soon || kim hongjoong part 2

<part 1> <part 3>

goes to waste the series based on my favourite keshi songs

(listen here)

idol!hongjoong x non-idol!reader

synopsis: years after choosing his career over you, hongjoong still finds himself haunted by the memories of you. your relationship is a constant dance of on and off, and you cannot stay away from him.

genre: smut, angst, a very small amount of fluff

trigger warnings: cussing/mature language, toxic relationship, extreme possessiveness, jealousy, emotional manipulation, lies, obsession, verbal aggression, emotional distress, career-related stress, panic attack mentioned, pillow-talk(?) explicit sexual content: dom!hongjoong sub!reader, unprotected sex, hair pulling, dirty talk, nipple play, tight riding, fingering, hongjoong is rough, neck biting, hickey fetish(?), overstimulation, pet-names

words: 11.5 k

reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there! this part is mostly smut-focused but honestly, it was very needed for the plot to kinda set the dynamic between hongjoong and the reader. i don't know what else to say!!! the third part will be the final one and it's already done! so stay tuned. as always, i hope you enjoy it. let me know what you think? please? 🥹

ps. the usernames i used are random!!!

ps.2 do we like the articles or are we getting rid of them?

in the first part, i made a lot of typos and there were also many mistakes in how i edited the text. i think i managed to fix them all by now, but i wanted to apologize. i hope this time it will be better.

love, monika. ♡

if you enjoyed this post, i’d be so grateful for a little love – a like, reblog or comment would truly make my day!

taglist: @skittyneos @kyeos4ng @vcutparis

ATEEZ's Leader, Kim Hongjoong, Abandons Tour to Chase After Ex-Girlfriend

In an unexpected twist, Kim Hongjoong, the charismatic leader of the popular K-pop group, ATEEZ, has abruptly abandoned their ongoing world tour. The reason behind this sudden departure? Allegedly, to chase after his ex-girlfriend.

Hongjoong, known for his exceptional leadership and commitment to the group, has left fans and fellow band members in shock with his sudden decision. According to inside sources, Hongjoong's decision was fueled by personal reasons, specifically involving his former girlfriend.

The identity of the woman in question has not been disclosed, but it's clear that the leader of ATEEZ is deeply affected by the situation. The relationship was said to have ended on mutual terms, with both parties deciding to focus on their individual paths. However, recent developments suggest that the separation may not have been as smooth as initially presented.

It appears that the former couple has been in contact. The nature of their interactions remains undisclosed, but it's clear that their history is not as far behind them as they'd like to believe. Allegedly, Hongjoong has been struggling with lingering feelings for his ex, and it has affected him to the point of leaving his professional commitments to seek closure.

This move is a significant departure from the professional and dedicated image Hongjoong has cultivated over the years. His decision to put personal matters before his career obligations has raised eyebrows, leading to speculation about the severity of the situation.

As ATEEZ's world tour continues without their leader, fans worldwide are expressing concern. The remaining members of ATEEZ have yet to comment on the situation, leaving fans in a state of suspense and concern about the future of the group.

MYFAVSONGISMINGI: Honestly, I'm shocked. I never expected Hongjoong to behave like this!!! 😡😡😡😡

8MAKES1: Unbelievable! How can he just abandon his responsibilities like this? I'm really disappointed in Hongjoong. 😡😡😡

ILOVEMOUNTAINS: Is this the kind of leader we want for ATEEZ? I don't think so. 😡

FORJONGHO: I feel so disheartened. After all the support and love we fans have given ATEEZ, is this what we get in return? 😔

HEARTSFORYUNHO: Can't she see the damage she's causing?! Hongjoong doesn't need someone who brings him down like this. 😒😒😒

EIGHTPIRATES: He's clearly not in the right headspace to lead. Maybe it's time for him to leave. 😞

ILOVEHONGJOONG07: I hate to say it, but ATEEZ might be better off without him right now. 💔😞

YEOSANGISMINE: I hope they both realize the damage they've done to ATEEZ's reputation. This is just unacceptable! 🤬💔

ATEEZ's Company KQ Entertainment Announces Unexpected Hiatus for Leader Kim Hongjoong

ATEEZ's company announces an unexpected hiatus from the group's activities for their leader, Kim Hongjoong, sparking speculation about his potential departure from the band.

The news comes shortly after Hongjoong's abrupt departure from ATEEZ's world tour, allegedly to reconnect with his ex-girlfriend. This sudden announcement has left fans and fellow band members reeling, leading to widespread speculation and concern about the future of the group.

Hongjoong has remained silent about his reasons for the hiatus, and his fellow band members have refrained from commenting on the situation. The lack of communication from the band has only served to fan the flames of speculation, and many fans are concerned that this hiatus could be a precursor to Hongjoong's withdrawal from the group.

Despite the swirling rumors, ATEEZ's record company, KQ Entertainment, has released a statement in an attempt to clarify the situation:

"We would like to assure ATEEZ's fans that Hongjoong's hiatus is a personal decision and is not indicative of any issues within the group. Hongjoong is taking some time off to deal with personal matters, and we ask fans to respect his privacy during this time. ATEEZ will continue their activities as scheduled, and we promise to keep fans updated on any changes."

Even with this official statement, fans can't help but worry about the group's future. Hongjoong's leadership and unique talents have played a crucial role in shaping ATEEZ's success, and his absence undoubtedly leaves a significant gap.

Fans worldwide are expressing their concern and support for Hongjoong in this challenging time, hoping for his quick return to the group. In the meantime, ATEEZ will continue their activities as a seven-member group.

FIXONPIRATES: I can't believe Hongjoong would put his personal life before the group. This is so unprofessional. 😡

WOOBABY: This is such a disappointment. Maybe it's best if Hongjoong leaves the group. 😞

ILOVEHONGJOONG: We're all let down by this. The group is better off without him. 😔

PIRATEKING: I can't believe he would abandon his responsibilities like this. He should leave ATEEZ. 😡

KINGHONG : This isn't the Hongjoong we used to know and respect. It's time for him to leave the group. 💔

8MAKES1: I'm so disappointed. I can't believe Hongjoong would let us down like this. He should leave ATEEZ. 😠

MYFAVSONGISMINGI: I'm honestly so upset. Hongjoong should leave the group until he can prioritize ATEEZ. 😡

ILOVEMOUNTAINS: I never thought I'd say this, but maybe it's time for Hongjoong to leave ATEEZ. He's clearly not able to fulfill his responsibilities as a leader. 😞

Pre-Debut Relationship of ATEEZ's Leader, Kim Hongjoong, Revealed

ATEEZ's leader, Kim Hongjoong, is currently making headlines for an unexpected hiatus from group activities. Now, inside sources reveal another dimension to the story, unveiling a pre-debut relationship that might be the underlying cause of the K-pop star's recent actions.

Before shooting to fame as the charismatic leader of ATEEZ, Hongjoong was in a happy relationship with a woman, who remains unknown. According to insiders, the pair shared a deep bond that has left an indelible mark on Hongjoong's life.

Their relationship began before Hongjoong's debut with ATEEZ, during a time when the budding artist was juggling his aspirations of a music career and his personal life. The sources reveal that the relationship was a significant part of Hongjoong's life before his rise to fame.

However, the relationship ended abruptly, despite the couple being in a state of happiness and contentment. This unexpected breakup was a significant blow to Hongjoong, who was deeply in love and had no anticipation of the abrupt end.

The sudden termination of their relationship marked a significant turning point in Hongjoong's life, as he committed himself entirely to ATEEZ and his responsibilities as a leader. The decision to focus on his career came in the aftermath of this unexpected personal loss.

The recent revelations about Hongjoong's pre-debut relationship provide an intriguing perspective on the current situation. While the exact details remain unclear, it's evident that Hongjoong's past relationship has had a significant impact on his personal and professional life. The revelations raise questions about the role this past relationship may be playing in his recent actions and his unexpected hiatus from ATEEZ's activities.

SEONGHWASTAR: Hongjoong needs to take a break and sort out his life. ATEEZ deserves a dedicated leader. 😔

MATZLOVER: I stand with Hongjoong! Everyone has a right to personal life. 💪

PIRATEKING: This isn't the Hongjoong we used to respect. He's letting his personal problems affect the group! 💔

LOVINGHONG: We need to support Hongjoong in this tough time. He is human too and has feelings.

CRAZYFORYEO: Hongjoong needs us more than ever. Let's not abandon him in this difficult time. ❤️

YUNGIYUNGIYUNGI: Stay strong, Hongjoong! We believe in you and support you. 💪

eight

After a long, grueling flight, Hongjoong finally landed back home. As soon as the plane touched down, he felt an overwhelming sense of urgency. He rushed to catch a taxi, desperate to get to you as quickly as possible. He hoped that his sudden return had gone unnoticed as he was supposed to be in another country, preparing for a concert. However, to his surprise, the airport arrivals zone was swarming with reporters. Their cameras flashed continuously, momentarily blinding him. The sudden influx of attention was the last thing he needed right now, but there was no turning back. All he could think about was seeing you. Throwing on his sunglasses and mask, he was filled with fear at the thought of facing the sea of reporters alone. The absence of his usual security guard weighed heavy on his shoulders. The reporters were shouting, one after another, their voices overwhelming him. The constant flash of cameras was deafening, the noise throbbing in his head and pushing him toward the edge of a panic attack. The noise was too much to bear, making it impossible for Hongjoong to focus on any of the words coming out of the reporters' mouths. He needed to get out quickly. Tripping a few times, his anxiety was getting the best of him. Why were they here? He scrambled to regain his footing, the world spinning around him as the clamor of reporters grew louder. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, each beat echoing the growing sense of dread that was consuming him. He couldn’t make out their questions, the words getting lost in the cacophony of noise. Suddenly, he felt a strong grip on his arm.

"Come on, let's get you out of here," a tall man from airport security said, his voice steady despite the pandemonium around them. He pulled Hongjoong away from the reporters, shielding him from their intrusive questions and cameras. The man managed to get Hongjoong to the safety of a VIP parking lot, the noise of the reporters fading into the distance.

"Thank you, sir," Hongjoong said, his voice barely above a whisper. The man simply nodded, his gaze filled with concern.

"No one should have to go through that alone," he replied, "I will order a taxi for you. Please wait here until it arrives." Hongjoong did as he was told, waiting patiently for a driver to arrive. He rummaged through his bag, finally finding his phone and turning it back on when the taxi finally arrived. He took a seat in the back, his heart rate slowly returning to normal. Finally, he checked his phone, notifications coming like crazy, unanswered calls, unread messages, the amount of it was overwhelming. Hongjoong's heart pounded in his chest as he clicked a link sent by his manager, causing the articles to load. Each word, each accusation, felt like a stab to his chest. His mind reeled from the harsh reality of his situation, and the severity of the consequences he faced. The accusations, the speculation, the harsh criticism - it was all too much. He felt a profound sense of betrayal, a deep-seated anger towards his management for allowing things to spiral so far out of control. His manager's voice echoed in his mind, the threat from the before now a chilling reality. He had followed through on his threat, leaking Hongjoong's personal life to the media, spinning the situation to make Hongjoong the villain. The public backlash was harsh and swift, their words cut deep. He could feel his world crumbling around him, the life he had worked so hard to build threatening to collapse under the weight of the scandal. Hongjoong was devastated. A sinking feeling of despair washed over him as he scrolled through the comments, each one a painful reminder of the image he had lost. The leader, the professional, the role model - all replaced with a man driven by personal desires, abandoning his responsibilities, and disappointing his fans. Hongjoong couldn't believe his fans, the people who had supported him through thick and thin, were now against him. Their words, usually filled with love and encouragement, had transformed into harsh criticism and disappointment. He felt he had let them down, and the guilt was overwhelming. Hongjoong could hardly believe the magnitude of damage that had unfolded during the mere hours of his flight back home. The sudden turn of events felt like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. As he asked the driver to roll up the partition, he immediately dialed his manager's number, his fingers shaking with barely contained anger.

"What the fuck is this?" he demanded as soon as the call connected, his voice harsh and strained. "Why am I finding out about my own hiatus from a fucking article?"

His manager sighed heavily on the other end of the line, the sound echoing ominously through the phone. "I warned you, Hongjoong," he replied curtly, his tone carrying an icy edge that sent a chill down Hongjoong's spine. "I told you there would be consequences."

Hongjoong clenched his jaw, his blood boiling at his manager's words. The man was using his position of authority to manipulate and control him. "You're blackmailing me," Hongjoong spat out, his voice thick with accusation. "How could you do that? How could you use my personal life as a tool to control me?"

The manager sighed, "You knew what you were getting into, Hongjoong," he continued, his voice quieter now, but still carrying an undercurrent of stern reprimand. "You know you are banned from dating, you signed the contract yourself. You know the rules, the restrictions. We've talked about this and yet," his manager went on, "you chose to ignore it. To risk everything you've worked for." He finally paused, giving Hongjoong a moment to absorb his words. "We're not just talking about your career here, Hongjoong, we're talking about the group, the fans, the company. Your actions affect more than just you." His words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the consequences of Hongjoong's actions. This wasn't just about him and his feelings. His actions had far-reaching repercussions, ones that he hadn't fully considered in the heat of the moment. "We need you to think about what's at stake here, Hongjoong," he added, his voice carrying a seriousness that sent a chill down Hongjoong's spine. "You should be happy we put you on hiatus. At least you can spend some quality time with... what's her name again?" His manager sneered, the disrespect apparent in his voice. This was a low blow, a deliberate jab at Hongjoong's personal life, leaving him seething. A surge of rage swept through Hongjoong at his manager's taunting words. He could hardly believe what he was hearing, the blatant disrespect towards you making his blood boil.

"Don't you dare speak about her like that," he snarled, his voice dangerously low. His grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white with the force of his anger. "You have no right." His manager seemed taken aback by his outburst, but Hongjoong didn't care. He was sick and tired of his personal life being under constant scrutiny, especially regarding his relationship with you. "You don't get to dismiss her like she's nothing," he continued, his voice trembling. "She's not just some random girl, I love her." There was silence on the other end of the line, the manager clearly surprised by Hongjoong's passionate response.

"Listen, Hongjoong," the manager's voice echoed through the phone, "Here's what we're going to do. You want to be with her? Fine. But you two need to stay low, understand? We'll control the damage on our end. You will be back for the European tour dates, no exceptions." His manager's voice hardened, the finality of his words sending chills down Hongjoong's spine. "You get a month with her, that's it. After that, it's the end. And by that, I mean she's dead to you. No more contact, no more distractions. Your career and your responsibilities come first. Are we clear?" Hongjoong pulled the phone away from his ear, staring at it in shock. He could hear his manager's voice continuing on the other end, but his words were a blur, drowned out by the roaring silence in his own mind.

"A month..." he muttered to himself, the reality of the situation sinking in. He had a month. 30 days. 720 hours. That was all the time he had left with you. After that, you would be gone from his life, erased as if you never existed. The thought was unbearable.

"Are you listening to me, Hongjoong?" his manager's voice snapped him back to reality. His tone was stern, and authoritative. It was a tone Hongjoong had come to associate with bad news, with ultimatums and decisions made without his input. "This is not a negotiation." Hongjoong swallowed hard, his throat tight. He wanted to argue, to fight back. But he knew it was pointless. His manager had made up his mind, and there was no changing it.

"Alright," he finally replied, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I understand."

"Good," his manager responded, the satisfaction evident in his voice. "Remember, Hongjoong, this is for the best. You have a bright future ahead of you. Don't let one mistake ruin it all." The call ended abruptly, leaving Hongjoong alone with his thoughts. He stared at his phone screen, the harsh reality of the situation weighing heavy on his heart. He had a month left with you, a month to make memories, to say his goodbyes. After that, he would have to let you go, to move on and focus on his career. But as he sat there, he couldn't help but wonder if he could do it. If he could really let you go. Because despite everything, despite the pain and the heartache, he knew one thing for sure: he was still in love with you. And love, as he was quickly learning, was not something that could be easily forgotten or replaced. It was a powerful force, a relentless tide that swept you off your feet and carried you away, regardless of the consequences. As Hongjoong sat in the taxi, staring at the blank screen of his phone, he made a decision. He would make the most of the time he had left with you. He would make every moment count. Because in the end, when all was said and done, he wanted to be able to look back and know that he had loved you with all his heart, even if it was just for a little while.

nine

You woke up abruptly, in the middle of the day, your head throbbing with the worst headache you'd ever experienced. You'd only caught a few hours of sleep, your body still worn out from the previous night. You found yourself in the dress you had worn yesterday, the fabric now uncomfortable and sticking to your skin. The remnants of your makeup were smeared on your face, causing your skin to itch. Through your half-opened eyes, you saw the sun's rays hitting your face, a harsh reminder of the time. Your body felt heavy as if you had run a marathon. Your muscles were sore, and you could barely muster the energy to move. You yawned, stretching your body and feeling your joints pop. The empty, gnawing feeling in your stomach was the only force that managed to pull you out of bed. You decided to deal with your fatigue first, hoping a shower would do the trick. The cold water hit your skin, sending a jolt through your tired body. It was calming and refreshing, washing away the remnants of the previous night and soothing your aching muscles. Once you were done, you grabbed one of your oversized t-shirts and a pair of comfortable panties. Dressed and feeling slightly more alive, you left the comfort of your room and ventured into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. You took some painkillers for your headache, hoping they would kick in soon. To brighten the mood, you decided to put on some music. The familiar tunes filled the room, providing a comforting background noise as you went about your morning routine. Despite the rough start to your day, you found a sense of peace in these simple morning rituals. As the day dragged on, you found yourself mindlessly scrolling through Netflix. You couldn't quite decide what to watch, your mind too clouded with thoughts and fatigue to make a choice. As the minutes ticked by, your eyes grew heavier and heavier. Every blink felt like a battle, your eyelids threatening to close with each passing second. Your nap was interrupted by a ring at the door. You didn't expect any visitors today, but you forced yourself to answer it. You quickly fixed your hair and glanced down at your oversized t-shirt. Thankfully, it was long enough to cover you, so you didn't bother to put on anything else before opening the door. 

You had just unlocked the door when Hongjoong suddenly stormed into your apartment. His unexpected entrance took you completely by surprise, leaving you momentarily stunned. 

"Hongjoong?" you managed to squeak out, your heart hammering in your chest. "What are you…" Before you even had a chance to finish, he had you pinned up against the wall, his lips seeking yours in a desperate, hungry kiss. 

"We're gonna talk later," he managed to blurt out before kissing you again. Thoughts of you consumed him entirely. The idea of your lips meeting another man's in a passionate embrace, the thought of you out in the nightclub seeking the attention of someone who was not him, it was too much to bear. Hongjoong envisioned you offering your body to someone who didn't know you as he did, didn't love you as he did. His blood boiled at the thought, a reaction that set his nerves on edge. The stress from the unexpected hiatus, and the stern words from his manager, all paled in comparison to the anguish he felt at the thought of losing you. His longing for you was overwhelming, a need that shook him to his core. He yearned to have you under him, to feel the warmth of your naked body against his. He craved the taste of your lips, the feel of your skin under his fingertips. Hongjoong wanted to consume you, to lose himself in the intoxicating allure of your being. The thought of you, of your touch, your scent, your love, it was a driving force for him. A desire so strong that it threatened to consume him entirely. Hongjoong’s lips left yours abruptly, ending the breathless kiss that had consumed both of you. His hand moved from your waist to your face, gripping it strongly and forcing your gaze to meet his. There was a fiery intensity in his eyes that caught you off guard, and for a moment, all you could do was stare back at him in stunned silence. 

"Haven't fucked you in a few months and you have already forgotten who you belong to?" He asked, his voice low and heavy with an emotion you couldn't quite place. You wanted to moan at his words, each syllable that fell from his lips sending a wave of pleasure that cascaded down to your very core. You found yourself completely at his mercy, a plaything in his hands, and the realization stirred a thrill within you that was hard to ignore. His hand, firm and warm, cupping your face, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw in a touch that was almost tender. His other hand, however, was far from gentle. Pressed against your hip, it pushed you hard against the wall, the cold, hard surface a stark contrast to the heat of your body. You could feel the pressure of his fingers against your skin, the strength behind the hold, and you already knew that they would leave marks. Marks that would bloom into dark, purple imprints by the next morning, a tangible reminder of this moment. Marks that would be visible, and you found that you didn't mind one bit. 

"Answer me," he demanded, his voice low and dangerously quiet. The intensity of his gaze was overwhelming, his eyes burning into yours with an unreadable expression. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the sensation amplified by the deafening silence that followed his words. The anticipation was making your breath hitch in your throat, making it difficult to form a coherent response. All you could do was whimper, the sound barely audible in the tension-filled room. 

"I belong to you, Hongjoong," you finally answered, swallowing the lump in your throat hard. Your voice was barely a whisper against the room's silence. 

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. His words sent a thrill of pleasure coursing through you, making your heart race and your core clench with anticipation. Hongjoong’s gaze was heavy on you, making your skin prickle with anticipation. The intensity of his stare was like a physical touch, stoking the flames of your desire. His lips were next to your ear now, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. Hongjoong pressed his body to yours, leaving no space in between, and you could feel his hardness against your thigh. He was already prepared to take you. The anticipation made you clench around nothing, the thought of him filling you up driving you wild with desire. "I will fuck you so hard the only thing you're gonna remember is my name," he whispered straight into your ear. The world beyond you two ceased to exist in that moment. All you were aware of was him, the feel of his body pressed against yours, the way his hands explored your figure with ownership that made your heart race. His scent, a heady mix of his cologne, and the smell that was uniquely him filled your senses. It was intoxicating, making your head spin and your body yearn for more. His lips found yours in a searing kiss, a clash of teeth and tongues that was all-consuming. It was as if he was trying to devour you, to claim you as his own with each kiss, each touch. And you let him. You surrendered yourself to him, to the overpowering desire that was coursing through your veins. Hongjoong’s touch was everywhere, leaving no inch of your skin unexplored. His hands roamed your body, each touch setting your skin on fire. His fingers traced your curves, his touch igniting a trail of heat wherever he touched. It was maddening, the way he was making you feel. You were like a lump of clay in his hands, your body responding to his every touch, every command. As his hands continued their exploration, the anticipation was building, leaving you breathless. You knew it was only a matter of time before he would claim you, mark you as his own. And you loved the idea. The idea of being entirely his. 

Hongjoong’s fingers found the hem of your oversized t-shirt, and he took it off of you quickly to reveal your body. The cool air hitting your exposed skin made you shiver, but it was nothing compared to the heat his touch was generating within you. As his hand moved up your leg, your breath hitched in anticipation. He paused, his fingers hovering over the lace of your panties. You could feel the heat of his hand through the thin fabric, sending jolts of electricity coursing through you. Hongjoong lowered himself, his eyes never leaving yours. His lips met the soft skin of your nipple, taking it in his mouth. The sensation of his warm mouth was intoxicating, making you gasp as he sucked hard, his teeth gently grazing you. Simultaneously, his hand moved to the other side, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your nipple before he took it between his fingers. He began to twist and pinch, his touch just the right side of rough. He played with you, his actions causing a wave of pleasurable sensation to course through your body, making you arch your back in response. This continued, his mouth and hands working in a rhythm that only he knew, his attention solely focused on you, on giving you pleasure. You could feel a heat building up within you, a testament to the skill and care with which Hongjoong was treating you. And throughout it all, he never broke eye contact, his gaze filled with a desire and intensity that matched his actions. You reached down, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him up to meet your lips. As your mouths collided in a passionate, desperate kiss, a moan escaped from your throat, muffled by the intensity of his lips on yours. 

Your hands gradually made their way under the fabric of his t-shirt, the sensation of your fingers tracing over the contours and warmth of his skin beneath. You wasted no time, reaching for the zipper of his pants, which were already uncomfortably tight for him. But as your fingers grazed the metal, he grabbed your wrist, stopping you mid-motion. His eyes, dark with desire, met yours. 

"It's not gonna be that easy, baby girl," he murmured, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. Hongjoong released your wrist but kept his hand there, his thumb tracing slow circles on your skin. His other hand slid up your back, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together with no space in between. The heat from his body seeped into yours, his scent filling your senses. Your heart pounded in your chest in anticipation of what was to come. His lips found your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, eliciting a gasp from you. You could feel his smirk against your skin, he was playing a dangerous game, one that had you on the edge. He sucked on your skin roughly, each pull of his lips sending a rush of sensations coursing through your body. His teeth grazed your sensitive skin, biting down hard after each suck. Hongjoong was marking you, claiming you as his own in the most primal way possible. Each mark, each hickey he left on your skin was a silent proclamation of his ownership, an indelible reminder of his touch. He wanted to cover you all in his marks, to transform your beautiful skin into a canvas that bore the testament of his love. He wanted the world to see, to know that you were his. Every mark he left was a symbol of his possession, a clear message to anyone who dared to look your way. And with each mark he left, he etched his love for you deeper into your skin, into your very soul. It was a display of ownership that was as intoxicating as it was overwhelming. And as he continued to mark you, you were left with no doubt that you belonged to him.

Hongjoong's hands moved to your legs, his grip firm and commanding as he spread them apart. He effortlessly slid his own leg between yours, positioning himself in a way that your sensitive core came in direct contact with his muscular thigh. This friction, elicited a deep moan from you, a sound that filled the room and fed his desire. Your pussy had been neglected throughout this encounter and the sudden stimulation was intensely gratifying. The friction against your sensitive spot, even though it was indirect, generated waves of pleasure that coursed through your body, consuming you. Hongjoong’s actions were deliberate and calculated, each movement, each touch and kiss was designed to make you want him more. And it was working. Your hands fumbled with the hem of his shirt, your fingers desperate to feel the heat of his skin. He obliged, allowing you to pull the garment over his head. The sight of him, bare-chested and smirking at you, made your breath hitch in your throat. You wanted to grind down on his thigh, to press your aching core harder against the firm muscle for more friction, but he stopped you, holding you steady. His grip on your hips was firm, his fingers digging into your skin as he held you in place, controlling the pace to prolong the tantalizing torture. 

"Touch me," you whimpered, desperate to feel him. Your pussy was neglected, yet soaking wet only waiting for Hongjoong. The anticipation was making you ache with need, your body yearning for his touch. 

Hongjoong smiled devilishly at you. "Beg for it," he whispered. His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mixture of fear and anticipation. You swallowed hard, meeting his gaze with an intensity that mirrored his own. 

"Please," you whined desperately, the word barely audible. 

Suddenly, Hongjoong pulled away. His hands, which had been tracing patterns on your hips, and his thigh, which provided much-needed friction, were abruptly gone. You whimpered in response, a wave of desperation washing over. The lack of contact became unbearable, causing your skin to tingle in anticipation and making you yearn for his warmth. Your heart began to thump wildly in your chest, and a lump formed in your throat, making it hard for you to swallow. 

Hongjoong smirked at you, his voice dark and teasing as he said, "You aren't begging enough, baby girl." 

"Please," you begged again, your voice quivering with need. The absence of his touch was driving you insane, each passing second amplifying your desperation. "I need you, Hongjoong," you pleaded, your words hanging in the air. ‘’Please, please, please fuck me’’ He gave you a satisfied smirk, his fingers back to tracing idle patterns on your bare skin, pushing you further into the abyss of longing. His smile grew wider, satisfaction evident in his eyes. He leaned in closer, his breath fanning against your skin. 

"That's my girl," he murmured before his lips captured yours in a searing kiss. 

He lowered himself down your body, his eyes never leaving yours. The tension between you was palpable, filling the room with an intoxicating mix of anticipation and desire. His teeth gently caught the hem of your panties, his gaze darkening as he watched your reaction. There was a smirk on his face, one that spoke volumes of the intimate knowledge he had of your body. His hands slid down your sides, tracing the contours of your body with a familiarity that sent shivers down your spine. Then, he licked your lower stomach, the unexpected sensation making you arch your back. His tongue left a wet trail on your skin, the heat of it seeping into you and making you squirm underneath him. His hands returned to your hips, his fingers hooking into the sides of your panties. With a playful wink, he began to slide the last piece of fabric down your legs. The action was slow, and torturous, dragging out the moment and making your heart pound in your chest. The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and the rustling of fabric as he finally removed your panties, leaving you bare before him. His eyes roamed over your body, taking in every detail with an intensity that made you blush. But there was no room for embarrassment, not when his gaze held such raw desire, such absolute adoration. One of his hands supported your hips, keeping you steady despite your shaky legs. His other hand separated your legs, trailing its way up your thigh, until finally, he was exactly where you needed him most. His eyes never left yours as he continued his torturous exploration. He watched your reaction to every touch, every caress, his gaze darkening with desire at every gasp and moan that slipped past your lips. Hongjoong’s fingers gently separated your folds, finally making contact with your wetness. Your moan at the sensation echoed in the quiet apartment, serving as a sweet symphony to his ears. His two fingers circled around your sensitive clit, you rolled your eyes at the sensation, you were already so pent up, you felt like you were going to explode. With a slow, deliberate motion, he inserted one of his fingers, prompting you to moan, "More." He complied, adding another of his fingers, the increased pressure sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You moaned his name and grabbed his shoulder for support, trembling with pleasure. The room spun around you, every nerve in your body seemed to come alive, the sensation overwhelming and intense. Your body responded instinctively, arching towards him, craving more of his touch. His lips found yours again, kissing you deeply as his fingers continued to move inside you. His movements were measured, each stroke designed to draw out the maximum pleasure. It was as if he knew your body better than you did, each touch hitting just the right spot. "You are so beautiful, moaning my name like that… give me more of your beautiful moans." He whispered, as his thumb circled around your clit. You obliged, losing yourself in the waves of pleasure that his touch invoked. Hongjoong's fingers crossed inside of you, picking up speed as he felt you clenching around them. "Tell me what you want, baby," he whispered against your skin, his voice husky and filled with desire. 

"I-I want to c-cum, please let me," you pleaded intensely, your voice trembling and shaking as you felt the wave of your impending climax steadily building up inside of you, each pulse and throb pushing you closer to the edge. 

"Who do you belong to?" Hongjoong's voice echoed in the room, his words were a challenge, a demand, and a plea all wrapped into one. His eyes bore into you, intense and unwavering. As he waited for your response he slid a third finger inside you, stretching you with a delicious pressure that made your breath hitch in your throat. The sensation was overwhelming, drawing a gasp from your lips as a wave of pleasure washed over you. 

"Y-you," you struggled to respond, your voice a mere whisper against the pounding rhythm of your heart. “I belong to you Hongjoong” His name tumbled from your lips, a sweet surrender that brought a satisfied smirk to his face. You moaned loudly, your voice breaking as your climax built. 

"You can cum now princess," Hongjoong whispered, his voice low and husky in your ear. Your body responded to his words, your climax hitting you with an intensity that left you breathless. 

"Hongjoong!" you cried out, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you. Your grip on his shoulder tightened as you came hard. Hongjoong’s fingers were still inside you, wet from your release, and they continued to move, riding out the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

"That's it, baby," he murmured against your skin, his voice a low growl. As you came down from your high, you buried your face in the crook of his neck, trying to catch your breath. You gasped as he pulled his fingers out of you, the lack of him there leaving you painfully empty. His breath was ragged, matching yours in intensity. Suddenly Hongjoong gripped your hair firmly, pulling your head up to make you look at him. "We're not done yet," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Get on the bed, on all fours," he demanded, his voice firm and authoritative. His command sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt yourself get worked up again. You didn't hesitate, moving to comply with his demand. Clambering onto the bed, you positioned yourself on your forearms and knees. Hongjoong moved behind you, you heard the sound of his zipper being pulled down, followed by the soft thud of his jeans hitting the floor. He climbed onto the bed, his hands found your hips, his touch firm and possessive. "Stay still," he whispered, his voice a low growl in your ear. You could feel the anticipation building, a delicious tension that made your breath hitch in your throat. Hongjoong's presence was overwhelming, his dominance a heady intoxicant that left you dizzy with need. As he whispered, "Ass up," you found your body obeying without a second thought, a wave of shivers running through you. You felt his tip teasingly trace your delicate folds, and you couldn't suppress a whimper. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" he mocked, his hand winding its way into your hair, giving it a firm tug. His lips trailed along your neck, teeth nipping at the abused skin and drawing a soft gasp from your lips. The accusation hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his jealousy. "Calling me up, talking about other guy, hm?" His words were laced with a bitter edge, the thought of you being with someone else igniting a fire in his belly that he couldn't quell. His grip on your hair tightened, his other hand tracing the curve of your waist as he pulled you closer, his hot breath hitting your skin and making you shudder in anticipation. "Answer me, baby girl," he demanded making you shiver. "Or you're not gonna get what you want." 

"Hongjoong, please," you begged, leaving his question unanswered. You shifted your hips slightly, hoping to make him slide inside you, but he held you firmly in place, not allowing you to move an inch. "I need your cock, please," by now you were on the verge of crying. 

He moved closer, his breath hot against your neck, his voice a low rumble in your ear. "You belong to me, your body is mine," he growled, the words seeping into your skin. His teeth grazed your shoulder lightly before biting down, the sharp sensation making you gasp out loud."Mine," he repeated, as he re-positioned himself at your entrance. Slowly, agonizingly, he slid inside you. The sensation was overwhelming, the slow stretch of him filling you driving you to the edge of madness. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that left you gasping for breath. "Don’t forget that," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he began to move, each thrust more powerful than the last. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he set a rhythm. Every muscle in your body tensed as you adjusted to his size, your nails digging into the sheets. His movements grew more erratic, his breath hitching in his throat as he fought to maintain control. A heat began to coil in your abdomen, the pleasure building with each passing second."You were made for me," he declared, one of his hands left your hip, as he reached to your clit, his fingers expertly massaging the soft bud. A loud moan slipped past your lips at his touch, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. 

"Y-Yes, Hongjoong, mmm... all for you," you agreed breathlessly, your body surrendering to the waves of pleasure that washed over you. He was too much, his touch, his very presence overwhelming your senses. You had lost all control, all semblance of resistance crumbling under his touch. You were his to play with, to use, to love. 

"You should see how good you look right now, stuffed with my cock," Hongjoong growled into your ear, his voice filled with raw desire. His words sent a thrill of pleasure coursing through you, heightening the intensity of the moment. His fingers dug into your hip as he continued to move inside of you, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. You clenched around him, his fingers expertly manipulating your sensitive clit. Your body was at its limit, desperate for release. "You will come only if and when I say so," Hongjoong moaned, his pace quickening to the edge of possibility. ''Your slut pussy exists for me to fuck it.'' He was slamming into you relentlessly, the sounds of your wet skin slapping against each other echoing through the room. You could feel the tears streaming down your face as he continued his relentless pace. It was getting impossible to keep yourself from reaching your climax, your fingers curling into the sheets as you tried to anchor yourself. Biting into the pillow, you tried to muffle your moans, but the pleasure was too overwhelming. ''I'm not gonna let you cum until I hear you scream my name with your pretty lips,'' he warned, the threat was enough to make you lose control, your voice crying out his name countless times as you surrendered to the pleasure. 

"Hongjoong, please," you begged, your voice a desperate plea as the tension within you built to an unbearable pitch. "Please, let me cum." Your words echoed throughout the room, raw and filled with need. Your knuckles turned white as you clung to the sheets beneath you, your grip unyielding against the soft fabric. His movements were relentless, the intensity of your need was overwhelming, your mind consumed by the singular focus of his dick inside you. You felt Hongjoong’s cock getting even harder, the feeling setting you on the edge.

"Cum for me, baby." As soon as Hongjoong gave you permission, you came with a loud, whiny moan, your body trembling. His thumb continued stimulating you, pushing you to the brink of overstimulation. You squeezed your pussy around his cock as you felt him throbbing. "I’m going to fill you up so good," he whimpered, his movements growing sloppy. "You're going to take all of my cum like a good girl." You felt the pulsing of his dick deep inside you as he came, his warm cum filling your pussy. Overcome by a wave of intense pleasure, he let out a deep groan, echoing throughout the room. With a few more hard thrusts, he rode his orgasm out, fucking his cum deeper inside you.

You slammed against the mattress, exhaustion washing over your sweaty body. Hongjoong’s breath hitched as he slowly pulled out, you felt the sticky cum rushing out when he did so. You felt his warm hand gently caress your waist, and he pulled you closer, wrapping his arm around you and burying his face into your hair. 

"You did so well, baby," he whispered, his heart pounding against your back, matching the rhythm of your own. You felt his lips brush against your shoulder, and you turned your head to meet his gaze. His eyes were soft, filled with an emotion that made your heart clench. You saw guilt, regret, and longing in his eyes. His fingers traced circles on your hip, and you turned around to face him, your fingers brushing against his cheek. 

"How do you feel?" he asked, worry evident in his voice. "Was I too rough on you?" you looked at him, a faint smile playing on your lips despite the pain that was slowly starting to creep in. 

You lightly pecked his lips and answered, "I'm okay, Hongjoong," you assured him, your voice barely above a whisper. He studied you for a moment, his eyes searching yours for any signs of discomfort. 

"Good," he murmured, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You traced your fingers down his spine, causing him to shiver. You hugged him closer, pulling the comforter over your shivering bodies. The exhaustion was taking the best of both of you. With his arm wrapped tightly around you, you both settled into the warmth of each other. 

"I didn't expect you to... you know," you said, your voice trembling "I mean, it was so sudden..." 

Hongjoong chuckled lightly, his fingers gently brushed your arm. "I can't help it," he said, his voice soft and intimate. "When I'm with you, I just... lose control. You drive me crazy, you know that?" 

You blushed, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Is that so?" you asked, your tone teasing. 

"Yes," he replied, his voice serious. "But... if I hurt you, or if it was too much... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." 

You shook your head, reaching out to gently touch his face. "You didn't hurt me, Hongjoong," you assured him. "It was... intense. But in a good way. I liked it." 

A relieved smile spread across his face. "I'm glad to hear that," he said. 

The storm outside couldn't touch Hongjoong in your embrace, where the rest of the world seemed to cease to exist. Your rhythmic breathing lulled him into a sense of peace and tranquility, your heart syncing with his in a comforting rhythm. You could feel the tension slowly leaving your body as you relaxed against Hongjoong, his grip on you softening. As his eyes fluttered closed, you traced patterns on his back with your fingers, a silent promise of comfort and safety. 

After a period of blissful silence, punctuated only by your breathing, you posed a question that needed to be asked, "But Hongjoong... what exactly are you doing here?" you finally addressed the elephant in the room. "Not that I’m complaining, it’s just so… unexpected," Hongjoong breathed out shakily. He hadn’t figured out quite how to navigate the whole situation, what to tell you and what not. 

"Well, if you're not complaining, then maybe we don't have to talk about it?" Hongjoong stated, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion. His words caught you off guard. Hongjoong was dismissing your feelings, trying to brush them off as if they were nothing. 

"Are you serious right now?" You asked, your voice rising in disbelief. "I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you, Hongjoong, and you're just...just..." You pulled away from his embrace, and a wave of disappointment washed over you, causing your heart to sink deep within. You had naively hoped that this time things would be different, that the love you shared could somehow erase the pain of the past. But the harsh reality started to set in. 

"Relax, I didn't mean it like that," with a swift movement, he reached out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist, pulling you in towards him. Your naked body collided with his chest. But Hongjoong's casual demeanor only infuriated you further. 

"No, Hongjoong, I won't 'relax'," you snapped back once again pulling away from his embrace, your patience wearing thin. "This is important, and if you're not going to take it seriously, then maybe we shouldn't be having this conversation at all." He was silent for a moment, his eyes studying your face as if trying to understand your emotions. But what was there to understand? You were hurt, and you were angry, and you were tired of feeling like you were the only one who cared. 

"I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice quiet. "You're right. I should've taken this more seriously. Let's talk." It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. You let out a sigh of relief, a weight lifting off your shoulders. Maybe there was hope for you two after all. With his apology, the tension in the room lessened slightly, but it was still there, hovering in the air like a dark cloud. You took a deep breath, composing yourself before speaking again. 

"Thank you, Hongjoong," you began, your voice steady. "We need to communicate better," you continued, meeting his soft gaze. 

"Yeah, I agree, baby," he said, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. "Let's go out for dinner, and we can talk properly." You nodded in agreement, taking comfort in his words and the warmth of his touch.

"I'd like that," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. 

"Then it’s a date, but for now let me take care of you, what do you say? Should I run you a bath?" he suggested, and you hummed in agreement. Hongjoong nodded, as he captured your lips in a soft kiss before he stood up and walked towards the bathroom. You heard the sound of water running and you felt a sense of calm wash over you. Hongjoong returned with a glass of warm water, offering it to you. "Should I prepare some food for us while you bathe?" he asked. You took a sip, the warm liquid soothing your parched throat. 

You glanced at him, your eyes meeting his. "I was kind of hoping that you would join me in the bathroom," you replied, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. A hint of surprise flashed in Hongjoong's eyes, quickly replaced by a familiar spark of mischief. 

"Is that so?" he asked, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. You nodded, your cheeks flushing a soft pink under his intense gaze. "Well then," he said, setting the glass down on the nightstand. "Who am I to decline such offer?" He extended his hand to you, the implicit invitation hanging in the air between you. With a soft laugh, you took his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. 

The tub was overflowing with bubbles, the water warm and inviting. Hongjoong pulled you into the tub with him, his arms wrapping around your waist as you settled between his legs. His fingers traced idle patterns on your skin, the simple touch sending shivers down your spine. With a soft giggle, you reached for the bottle of shampoo, pouring a generous amount onto your palm. Hongjoong took it from you, his fingers intertwining with yours as he worked the shampoo into your hair. His movements were gentle, his fingers massaging your scalp in a way that had you closing your eyes in pleasure. Every now and then, Hongjoong would press a sweet kiss on your shoulder, his lips lingering against your skin in a silent promise of love. You turned in his arms, your fingers tracing the contours of his face. You leaned in, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. His fingers brushed through your hair, washing out the shampoo. As he rinsed your hair, you leaned back against him, your fingers tracing patterns on his thigh. His lips found your neck, pressing soft kisses to your marked skin. Hongjoong examined the hickeys he left on your skin, already a deep shade of purple. A sense of satisfaction washed over him at the sight, but it was quickly replaced by a wave of guilt. "I'm sorry, baby," he whispered against your neck, peppering the area with soft kisses in a silent apology. 

You felt his breath against your skin, calming and warm. The sensation was a stark contrast to the pain of the marks he had created. "It's okay, Hongjoong," you reassured him, your voice soft and forgiving. You knew he didn't mean to hurt you; his passion got the better of him. 

He pulled back and looked into your eyes, "Promise?" he asked, an eyebrow raised in concern. You nodded, giving him a small smile that seemed to put him at ease. 

"Promise," you replied, tracing your fingers over the marks with a slight wince. The tension from earlier seemed to have dissipated, replaced by a sense of peace and contentment. You both sat there, lost in each other's arms, the water slowly turning lukewarm around you. 

Hongjoong's voice broke the comfortable silence, his words soft against your ear. "I love you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. You turned in his arms, your eyes meeting his. 

"I love you too, Hongjoong," you replied, your words echoing his sentiment. His lips found yours once again, sealing your words with a passionate kiss. As you both sunk further into the tub, the bubbles tickling your skin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of happiness wash over you. Despite everything that had happened, you were here, in his arms, and that was all that mattered. 

ten

While you were still occupied in the bathroom, engaged in getting ready for your date, Hongjoong gently excused himself. With a certain apprehension in his heart, he reached for his phone that was still in his bag. His fingers rubbed against the cool surface, contemplating the action he was about to take. He knew it was time, time to call Seonghwa. The call he had been avoiding, could no longer be put aside. It was a call he had to make, a call to face the repercussions of his actions. The gnawing guilt had begun to weigh him down. Hongjoong took a deep breath, bracing himself for the conversation that was to follow, and dialed Seonghwa's number. 

Seonghwa's voice crackled through the phone, filled with anxiety and disbelief. "Hongjoong? Oh God, what is happening? We're all sitting on the edge, waiting for any information. Care to explain?" 

Hongjoong sighed heavily, his frustration palpable even through the call. "Well, it got out of my control," he admitted. 

"Well, no shit," Seonghwa snapped. "Managers rushed us to the hotel and casually dropped the bomb that you're going on hiatus." 

"I had no idea. I was on a plane when this escalated," Hongjoong explained, running a hand through his hair despite knowing Seonghwa couldn't see him. 

"What do you mean, a plane? Where are you now?" Seonghwa's voice rose with a mix of confusion and anger. 

"I'm at Y/N’s place," Hongjoong confessed quietly. 

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? You told all of us she was in the past countless times!" Seonghwa's voice was a mix of betrayal and frustration, each word sharper than the last. 

"Seonghwa, I love her," Hongjoong said, his voice soft but resolute. 

"And clearly it does nothing good for you! Hongjoong, the media are already all over this. They're speculating you will leave the group," Seonghwa exclaimed, his intensity cutting through the phone. 

"Relax, I’m coming back in a month," Hongjoong assured, though his tone lacked conviction. 

"And you expect me to believe that? You'll be back for how long? Until she contacts you again?" Seonghwa shot back, his voice heavy with doubt and frustration. Hongjoong's silence on the other end of the line spoke volumes. Seonghwa sighed, his frustration giving way to a more pleading tone. "Hongjoong, this is serious. The whole group is worried. You can’t just drop everything every time she calls." 

"I know, Seonghwa," Hongjoong said, his voice wavering. "I just... I needed to see her." 

"Look, we all care about you. But you can't keep doing this to yourself. To us. The media, the fans... they’re going to tear you apart." Seonghwa countered. 

"I’m aware," Hongjoong replied, a note of defeat in his voice. "I just... I don’t know what else to do. I feel like I'm being pulled in two different directions." 

Seonghwa took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. "You need to make a choice, Hongjoong. Either you're with us, focused on the group, or you need to figure out your personal life first. But this back and forth... it's hurting everyone." 

"I understand," Hongjoong said quietly. "I’m sorry. I didn't mean for it to get this bad." 

"I know you didn’t," Seonghwa said, softening slightly. "But we need you here. We need you to be present. Can you promise me that before you come back you will sort this out once and for all?" 

There was a long pause before Hongjoong responded. "I promise. I'll be back in a month, and during this time I’ll figure things out. I owe that to you guys." 

"Alright," Seonghwa said, feeling a bit of relief. "We'll be waiting for you. Just... take care of yourself, okay?" 

"You too," Hongjoong replied, a hint of gratitude in his voice. "I'll see you soon." As Seonghwa ended the call, he couldn't shake the worry gnawing at him. He hoped Hongjoong would keep his promise, for the sake of the group and for his own well-being. 

Just as Hongjoong put his phone back in his bag, you swung open the bathroom doors. Your eyes were wide from shock as you looked at him. 

"Hongjoong, what does it mean you're on hiatus?" you asked, showing him the articles you’ve just read. Hongjoong met your intense gaze with a practiced smile, hiding the truth behind his eyes. 

"Well, I chose you this time," he lied smoothly, his words a balm to your insecurities. It was exactly what you wanted to hear, and he knew it. But deep down, he knew the reality was far different. Hongjoong understood all too well that you could never find out the truth—that he had no intention of staying for long before disappearing from your life once again. "I decided I need to be with you, to spend my time with you, so I asked the company to give me some time off," he continued, his words dripping with sincerity. With a wild smile stretching across your face, and a laugh of pure joy bubbling from your lips, you threw yourself into Hongjoong's arms. Your hands wrapped around his neck, holding him close as if you could never let him go. At that moment, the happiness of having him back overshadowed any doubts or suspicions, and you basked in the warmth of his presence, cherishing every moment together. 

"You have no idea how happy I am," you murmured, your voice filled with genuine emotion. Hongjoong's heart swelled with warmth at your words, he held you close, savoring the feeling of having you in his arms, relishing the closeness and connection between you. In that moment, everything else faded away, and all that mattered was the love and happiness shared between you. 

"Oh, I think I might have some idea," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The room was filled with an aching silence, the air heavy with anticipation. His gaze was soft, yet intense, a reflection of the love he held for you. Slowly, Hongjoong moved closer, closing the distance between you. His warm breath brushed against your lips, sending shivers down your spine. Then, without another word, he captured your lips in a soft, tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with longing and affection, a declaration of his feelings that didn't need words. His lips moved against yours, gentle yet demanding. Hongjoong bit your lip gently as he pulled back from the kiss, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. His eyes met yours again, now shining with an unspoken promise of love. They were so warm, so full of love, that you couldn't help but get lost in them. 

With bated breath, you looked up at him, your eyes searching his for reassurance. "You won't leave this time?" you whispered softly, the question hanging in the air like a delicate bubble. It was a plea, a desperate hope for a future that was uncertain yet full of potential. He looked back at you, his eyes filled with resolute determination. The smile that graced his lips was gentle yet firm, a testament to his unwavering commitment to you. 

"I swear, I'll never leave again," he declared, his voice filled with conviction that left no room for doubt. His response filled your heart with a kind of joy that was almost overwhelming. You could barely contain the happiness that bubbled up within you, a joy so profound it was almost palpable. You felt a rush of relief wash over you as if a heavy weight had been lifted from your shoulders. Hongjoong leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. And then, he pressed his lips against yours in a soft yet firm kiss. His kiss was like a balm to your worries, an assurance that he was here to stay, that he was yours. His words echoed in your mind, a sweet symphony of promises that painted a beautiful picture of what your future could hold. 

"Get ready, we will be leaving soon," he smiled, giving your bum a teasing slap and gently pushing you off him. You let out a soft giggle, batting his hand away playfully. 

"Alright, alright," you said, rolling your eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips. "I'll go get ready." You quickly slipped away from him, heading to your bedroom to change. As you closed the door behind you, you paused for a moment, leaning against the wooden surface. A soft smile spread across your face as you remembered his gentle teasing, the warmth of his touch still lingering on your skin. Despite the playful banter, you could feel a strange sense of anticipation building up within you. There was something different about tonight - a spark, an excitement that you couldn't quite put your finger on. As you began to get ready for the night, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your stomach. 

You sorted through your wardrobe and selected a simple, black strap dress and an elegant black blazer. You left your hair loose over your shoulders, hoping it would cover some of the hickeys that Hongjoong had left on your neck. The marks that were still visible were covered with concealer, which unfortunately didn't help much. You opted for minimal makeup, accentuating your eyes and finishing with your favorite lipstick. After putting on your shoes and grabbing a small bag, you were ready to go. 

"Baby, I'm ready," you announced to Hongjoong, emerging from the bedroom. He was in the living room, awaiting your arrival. "You look...you look stunning," he murmured, taking your hand and spinning you around to appreciate your full appearance. His eyes sparkled with admiration, a warmth spreading across his face as he took in your appearance. 

"You are so beautiful," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle and loving. "I can't believe how lucky I am." He continued to hold your hand, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand as he looked at you, completely awestruck. "All set?" he asked, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. You nodded, unable to hide the smile that spread across your face. He offered his arm and you took it, ready to step out into the night with him. 

"I was thinking we could drop by my place on our way to the restaurant, if that's okay with you," he proposed, his eyes eagerly seeking yours for any signs of discomfort. "Seonghwa and Jongho aren't home so you don't have to worry about running into them. I need to change into something more appropriate, and I thought I could pack some stuff as well so I could stay the night after our date." He let the suggestion hang in the air, a hopeful glint in his eyes. 

"Of course," you replied, your heart fluttering at his consideration. A soft smile played upon your lips as you added, "That sounds like a perfect plan, Hongjoong." His face lit up at your response, the tension in his body visibly easing. He let out a sigh of relief, a smile mirroring yours gracing his features. 

"But before we go, I need to tell you something," Hongjoong stated, and you swore your heart stopped for a second. 

"What is it?" you inquired, a knot of apprehension tightening in your stomach. 

"Because of the hiatus, I need to stay low," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. There was a weight to his words, a heaviness that filled the room.

Understanding his situation, you nodded. "I know, Hongjoong," you replied in an equally quiet voice. "I know it’s not the same as before. I mean, you are so popular now." 

"I just don't want the media up our asses, especially now that everyone is speculating about the reason behind my hiatus," Hongjoong confessed, his voice tinged with frustration. 

You nodded in understanding, feeling a pang of sympathy for the pressure he was under. "I get it," you replied softly. "We'll keep it low-key, just between us. No need to add fuel to the fire." 

Hongjoong's expression softened with gratitude, his eyes reflecting his relief. "Thank you," he murmured, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

"We can go public in the future where it won't cause so many problems, right?" you asked, your voice filled with hope and uncertainty. 

Hongjoong looked at you, his expression thoughtful. "I hope so," he replied, his tone cautious. "But for now, let's focus on us. We'll take things one step at a time and see where it leads." 

You nodded, a sense of determination settling over you. "I'm okay with that," you said, your voice steady despite the lingering doubts. "As long as we're together, that's all that matters." 

Hongjoong smiled, his eyes softening with affection. "That's all that matters to me too," he whispered, pulling you close for another embrace. 

[bigheartedbibliophile]

I finished Haunting Adeline a few days ago... wow. I need someone to talk to about this book, and I need to order Hunting Adeline immediately. I read reviews for Hunting Adeline and I'm lowkey worried for my mental health lol. Someone said it made Haunting Adeline look like a romcom 👀

I can't find the "I'm in danger" Simpsons gif, but I'm sure you know exactly which one I'm talking about.

I'll write a review for both of the books once I finished the second one. I have a feeling I'm going to want to compare them.

[mosspapi]

Hm. I think my class this morning was Significantly more triggering than initially thought and perhaps I have a lot more deep seated issues than I realized. We live in a society bottom text

[joelsgreys]

someone to be thankful for

DBF! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: It’s Thanksgiving—when dinner with your nightmare of a family goes south, you find comfort in the person you least expect it from: your father’s best friend, Joel Miller.

warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (AU, NO OUTBREAK) non canon, DBF! Joel, AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s, i do not specify her age, but she’s a recent college grad so do with that what you will, not everyone graduates at the same specific age ya know? Joel is in his mid-ish 50’s). Reader’s a teacher, she is visiting her suburban childhood home from a big city. Reader’s parents are religious and practice traditional-ish gender norms (i.e father is head of the household kinda thing) reader’s family celebrates Thanksgiving (sorry) several mentions of food and alcohol, reader’s parents suck, she has two brothers who come with names, a lot of her relatives come with names, watch out for Aunt Ines she’s a bitch. (TW) body/weight shaming (twice) PLEASE BE MINDFUL if this could be triggering. mentions of and implications of childhood abuse (not graphic) reader’s dad gets in her face, implied infidelity (reader’s dad), implied toxic marriage (reader’s parents). soft, caring, protective Joel. Joel’s recently divorced, mention of Sarah, mentions of the ex-wife. SMUT. oral sex (female receiving) p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) reader states she’s on baby blockers (birth control), creampie, DADDY KINK (bc reader clearly has a few daddy issues), LOTS of pet names (darlin’, baby, pretty girl, sweetheart, honey), size kink (ish?), cockwarming. think i got it all?

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, that is fine but just keep on scrolling.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.

word count: 11.5k

a/n: yeah…idk. this was very delayed because it turned into a whole thing. if anyone actually reads all 11k of this, i will bake you muffins.

You take a deep breath and look in the mirror.

Skirt pressed, not a wrinkle in sight.

Hair brushed, not a single strand out of place.

Makeup done, not a blemish to be seen.

And somehow, someone will still find something.

Something to point out.

Something to comment on.

Something to criticize.

If not your appearance, it’ll be something else.

Because someone always had something to say.

“Should you be eating all of that?”

“Another year gone and still no boyfriend?”

“Don’t you want to get married?”

“When I was in my twenties, I had two children.”

Boundaries didn’t exist on Thanksgiving.

Actually, for your family, boundaries didn’t exist at all—somehow, they are still scratching their heads and wondering why you’d decided to up and leave the minute your high school principal handed over that diploma, your ticket to freedom.

“Sweetie!” Your mother’s shrill voice calls from the kitchen downstairs. “I need a hand! Our guests are going to start arriving soon and there is still plenty left for us to do before they get here!”

You groan outwardly.

There’s still plenty left to do?

How’s that even fucking possible?

You’ve been cooking and baking since sunrise.

“Don’t you think it’s too early?” you’d grumbled at five o’ clock in the morning when your mother had pulled you out of bed, declaring it was time for the big dinner preparations to begin—even though it’d be several hours before your family came over and gathered around the table to break bread. She had pulled the turkey out of the freezer a few days ago, a massive, thirty-pound whole bird that looked big enough to feed a small village. In addition, she had picked up a ham and a brisket. “Mom, why’s there so much food?” Rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the sleeve of your robe, you’d started making your way over to the Nespresso only to realize that the coffee machine was hidden behind paper bags full of groceries. “Are we cooking for all of Texas or something?”

“Very funny,” she had glared at you. “Of course we aren’t.” She started unwrapping the turkey. “We’re simply making sure we have enough food and that we have different options for everyone to enjoy, so knock it off with the wisecracks and get to peeling those carrots for me for the stuffing. There is not a single minute to waste today, you hear me, missy? We’re hosting a dozen people, so everything must be absolutely perfect. I won’t accept anything less than perfection today, do you understand me?”

Thirteen hours later, she’s still driving you insane.

You’re only home visiting until the end of the week and then it’s back to the Midwest. You can survive her for three more days, right?

You hear her calling your name and exhale a small, frustrated sigh. “I’m coming, mom!” you call back. It’s difficult to mask the annoyance in your tone of voice, but somehow you manage it. “One minute!”

Smoothing down your pleated plaid skirt, you take one last look in the mirror to make sure everything is in order—there is a loose thread on the sleeve of your brown, knitted sweater and you carefully snip it off with a pair of scissors before sliding your feet into the comfiest pair of ankle boots you’d packed and head downstairs, nose leading the way as you follow the warm, delicious scent of the made from scratch biscuits and rolls baking in the oven.

You find your mother standing at the center island counter garnishing a charcuterie board with sweet gherkins and sprigs of fresh herbs. She is donning festive apron embroidered with fall leaves over her designer dress; her hair’s still up in rollers. “Finally, there you are,” she huffs out loudly the second she hears you walk into the kitchen. Down the hallway, your father and two younger brothers are shouting at some football game on the flat screen television in the living room—men don’t lift a single finger on this day, at least not in this household. “I need you to start setting the table for me. I have place cards in that bag over there. Make sure your dad’s at the head of the table. Oh and don’t forget to bring out the children’s table for all your little cousins—” She glances up, letting out a small gasp when she sees you. “What in the world are you wearing?”

Frowning, you look down at yourself. “Clothes?”

Her ruby red lips purse together in a tight thin line.

“Honey, that skirt is too short. It’s inappropriate.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at her. “It’s like an inch above the knee, how is that inappropriate? It’s not like it’s a miniskirt, mom.” As she eyes your skirt with disapproval, you decide you’re not in the mood to argue and say, “Okay, fine. I’ll go upstairs and change into something else then—”

“No, no, forget it,” she shakes her head. “We don’t have the time for that.” Your mother whirls around, picking up the bag of place holders—she’d special ordered little turkeys carved out of wood. She also takes a marker and a notepad, shoving everything into your hands. “Here. I wrote down all the names of everyone who’s coming for dinner. The children get place holders too but make sure the little ones are sitting beside someone older to help them. Oh! Did I already mention putting your dad at the head of the—”

Tuning her out, your eyes scan down the guest list and if there’s one thing to be thankful for today it’s the fact that your mother’s given you the power to seat everybody wherever you want. Halfway down the list, you see the names of several relatives that you don’t want anywhere near you at the table. An Aunt Miriam who smells like the inside of a casino; a cousin Jennifer who refuses to acknowledge her forty-eight month old is actually four years old; an uncle Richard who always has one too many beers and winds up spewing antigovernment conspiracy theories, ranting until he’s passed out somewhere, such as on the floor of the guest bathroom.

You get to the bottom of the list and can’t help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. “Joel Miller?”

She nods, returning to her board.

“You remember Mr. Miller, don’t you, sweetie? He and your father went to college together—he’s one of his oldest and dearest friends. Don’t tell me you forgot about him? You’ve met him plenty of ti—”

“Yeah, I remember who Joel is, mom,” you mutter, cutting her off. “Didn’t he and the family move out to Arizona like, four years ago? To Phoenix, right?” You’d been away for college then. Taking a second glance at the list, you notice she had forgotten the names of Joel’s wife and daughter. Surely, it’d just been a mistake on her part, though. “I had no idea they were in town visiting. Dad didn’t mention it to me at all.”

“They’re not.” She lowers her voice, as if someone else is standing in the room listening. “Joel moved back to Austin, he’s been back for a few days now. He and Connie, they um—” Pausing for a moment, she reaches up and clasps the cross hanging from her neck before whispering, “They got divorced.”

Taken aback, your mouth parts slightly. “What?”

“I know. Joel and Connie were the last people that I ever thought would get divorced. Such a shame,” your mother remarks, shaking her head. “I ran into Mrs. Adler at the super market and she was telling me all about it. Thinks they could have saved their marriage if only those two—”

“Would get right with Jesus,” you finish, biting the tiny smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “She says that about everything, mom.”

“Well, she isn’t wrong! The sacrament of marriage is a lifelong bond that shouldn’t be broken. It’s not right.” Dropping her hand away from her necklace, she crosses her arms over chest. “Anyway, Connie stayed in Phoenix. Sarah’s spending Thanksgiving with her. Your father didn’t want Joel spending the holiday alone and invited him over for dinner. That means I need you to be on your very best behavior tonight. I don’t want you embarrassing your father in front of his closest friend. Is that understood?”

You can’t help but scoff a little. “I’m not a child.”

She narrows her eyes at you and scoffs right back, planting her hands on her hips.

“No, you’re a smart aleck. Need I remind you what happened last Thanksgiving with Aunt Ines?”

Of course she didn’t have to remind you about last year’s fiasco with her insufferable bitch of a sister.

“That’s an awfully big piece of pumpkin pie,” she’d remarked loudly, eliciting snickers from everybody sitting at the table. “Don’t forget, dear—a moment on the lips, forever on the hips. And you have quite a few forevers on your hips already, darling.”

You had smiled sweetly at her, your fingers itching to fling your mother’s fine china at her. “I wouldn’t really worry about my pie, Aunt Ines,” you had said as soon as you realized that nobody, not even your parents, would be coming to your defense. “Much less when your husband’s stepping out and eating someone else’s pie when he’s away on all those so called business trips. Worry about that instead.”

That comment hadn’t gone over all too well. Three months later, Aunt Ines and Uncle Louis started to see a marriage counselor. Whoops.

“Well?”

“She deserved that,” you say, shrugging lightly.

“She’s family.”

“She’s a jerk.”

“You crossed a line.”

“She crossed it first.”

Before your mother can respond, the sound of the doorbell ringing echoes throughout the house.

“Jesus, we don’t have time for this!” Your mother’s eyes widen when she tries running a hand through her hair and realizes she still has her rollers in. “Oh no, people are arriving and I’m still not ready!” She makes a beeline for the hallway. “Get the door and greet our guests, I’ll be down in five minutes!”

She disappears upstairs into her bedroom and you hear the doorbell ring again. Your father shouts for someone to go answer it, someone other than him or your brothers because it is the end of the fourth quarter and they just can’t possibly miss that.

You make your way through the foyer and open up the front door expecting it to be one of your family members, but it’s not.

Your throat instantly goes dry at the sight of him.

He’s broader than you remeber, so much broader.

The fabric of his sage green dress shirt is nice and snug on his frame—stretched taut over the planes of his chest and his wide shoulders. He’s holding a box of store bought something or other but you’re much too preoccupied with the way the sleeves of his shirt are hugging his biceps to notice what it is although you assume it’s some kind of dessert. He looks far more delicious than whatever sweet treat could be in that white box he’s got in his hands.

After a minute, you realize you’ve been gawking at him and the heat rushes to your cheeks. “Hello Mr. Miller,” you greet him politely. “It’s very nice to see you again. Please, come on in.”

He smiles, his brown eyes warm and sweet behind his square, black-rimmed glasses. “You remember me,” he states and the syrupy richness of his voice sends a pleasant tingle up your spine. Stepping off to the side, you allow him inside—as he steps past you over the threshold, the tantalizing scent of his cologne almost brings you to your knees. Notes of a citrus accord like tart grapefruit, fresh bergamot mixed with the woodiness of vetiver and musk; it’s intoxicating, something you could easily get drunk off of if you’re not careful. “I’m surprised. S’been a real long time since you last saw me.”

“It hasn’t been all that long,” you reply, closing the door behind you. You speak to him in the steadiest voice you can muster, with nonchalance—as if you aren’t one missed heartbeat away from feeling like a silly little schoolgirl with her first crush. “Has it?”

He thinks about it. “‘Bout four and a half years.”

“That’s really not that long.”

“S’not,” Joel admits with a chuckle. “But with how much I’ve aged in that short amount of time, I just wasn’t sure if you’d recognize me, y’know? I look a lot different than I used to.” He pauses and laughs, shaking his head. “I must look like an old geezer to you now, don’t I?”

Grays lightly pepper his thick dark brown curls, his beard and his mustache. He’s got crows feet when he smiles, he has worry lines and creases between his eyebrows—he does look a lot older, but he’s so goddamn handsome, wrinkles, fine lines, and all.

You toss him a playful eye roll, prompting a grin. “I don’t think you look like an old geezer, Mr. Miller.”

“Well, you’re sure as hell makin’ me feel like an old geezer by callin’ me that, darlin’ girl.” He gives you a little wink and you’re not quite sure if it’s that, or if it was the way he’d used a pet name that knocks all the wind out of your lungs. “Please, just call me Joel.”

You nod and shyly agree to it. “Okay, then. Joel.”

“S’much better.” His grin widens and a prominent, deep dimple appears on the left side of his cheek.

There’s a silence that follows, but it’s not awkward or weird. It’s comfortable—being in his presence is comfortable. His sweet disposition makes you feel so calm, so at ease.

Joel’s always been a nice man of course, although your interactions with him had been limited—kind, quick hello’s in passing on Sundays whenever he’d come over to watch football with your dad, maybe a polite how are you here and there if you bumped into him at gatherings like a backyard barbecue or birthday party. But you’re older now, no longer the child who greeted her father’s best friend because it was bad manners if she didn’t. You don’t want to throw him that kind, quick hello or that polite how are you and then scurry off the way you used to as a little kid. You actually want to talk to Joel Miller.

But you suddenly remember he’s not here for you.

He’s here for your father.

Joel!” Your mother screeches, five-inch high heels clacking loudly as she descends the staircase. She had ditched the apron and hair rollers—and put on one too many layers of her heaviest perfume. With a delighted squeal, she rushes up to Joel and pulls him into a bone crushing hug, almost causing him to drop the box he’s still holding. “Oh, it is so good to see you! It’s been far too long!”

You force back a small, amused snort.

As if she hadn’t been judging the man for a failed marriage just minutes ago in the kitchen.

It’s performative, too over the top to be sincere.

“S’good to see you too.” He steps back and laughs as he adjusts his glasses with one of his hands. He holds out the box to her with the other. “Picked up a pecan pie on the way over here. I would’a tried to make it myself, but the kitchen’s still all packed up in boxes.” He pauses, laughing again. “Then again, I ain’t really much of a baker. Store bought was for the best I reckon,” he admits, sheepishly. When he shrugs his shoulders, his shirt strains a bit over his frame and even your mother can’t help but stare a little.

Lightly clearing her throat, she takes the box from him and reminds him, “Didn’t I tell you that all you had to bring tonight was a nice, healthy appetite?”

Joel lightly pats his stomach. “Brought that too. In fact, I didn’t eat a thing all day long. I’m absolutely starvin’ right now. Could eat a whole horse.”

“Good! Dinner’s going to be served soon. William’s in the living room with the boys, watching football game after football game. Come with me, I’m sure you’re eager to see him.” Your mother spins on her heel and hands you the dessert. “Sweetie, will you be a gem and go put this in the kitchen for me?” It isn’t a request, it’s an order masked as a request—it’s the kindest she’s been to you all day. She takes Joel’s arm and leads him down the hallway, calling out over her shoulder, “And please set the table!”

You do set the table, and when you do, you decide to sit yourself right next to Joel Miller.

Your mother lightly clinks her knife against the rim of her wine glass and clears her throat. “Everyone! It’s time to join hands and say grace before we dig into our meal,” she announces, her voice breaking through the loud, buzzing chatter at the table. She waits until there’s complete silence and then takes her seat, the chair adjacent to your father’s. You’re on his opposite side and Joel’s right beside you. “I think you should do the honor, William. You are the man of the house, after all.”

Nodding, your father begins the prayer.

“Heavenly Father, bless this food we are about—”

You’re not listening. You’re distracted by the jolt of electricity that zips through your entire body when you put your hand in Joel’s. His hand dwarfs yours and it’s rough and calloused, but somehow it’s the most gentle, soothing touch. Heat prickles at your face and neck when you feel him sweep his thumb across the back of your hand—you open your eyes and glance over at him, wondering if that had just been an accident. You’re convinced it was, until he does it again, running his finger over each knuckle one at a time. Slowly, like he’s savoring the touch.

Biting your lip, you give his hand a gentle squeeze.

His head is bowed and his eyes are still closed, but a faint smile tugs lightly at the corner of his mouth and he firmly squeezes your hand back. There’s an unmistakable desire that’s already burning deep in your lower belly, a flame you can’t extinguish even when the angel on your shoulder reminds you that not only is Joel Miller twice your fucking age, he is also your father’s best friend. His best friend.

“…through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen,” your relatives chime together in unison.

You force out the declaration. “Amen.”

“Amen,” Joel murmurs, opening his eyes. He turns to you and his gaze flits to your hand in his and for a moment, it almost seems like he doesn’t want to let it go. It feels like Joel doesn’t want to let it go—and he doesn’t. He doesn’t let it go until the sound of your father’s loud, booming voice announcing it is time for him to carve the bird startles the two of you apart. Clearing his throat lightly, Joel turns his attention forward and reaches for his cabernet. He gulps down half his glass in one easy swallow.

Dinner’s fairly uneventful.

You eat in complete silence, as does Joel.

Part of you wonders if it’s because you’re sitting in between him and your father, the only person that he’s most comfortable conversing with. Assuming this is the case, you’re just about to ask him if he’d like to trade places when he turns to you and says, “Your dad told me you went to school in Chicago.”

He’s just being friendly, you remind yourself when your heart starts to flutter wildly at the notion that he wants to talk to you. He’s friendly. That’s all. It doesn’t mean anything.

“Yeah. I did.” You pick up your glass of wine, taking a sip hoping it’ll ease the nerves. “I graduated over the summer and took a teaching job out there.”

“You became a teacher?”

“Yeah. I teach kindergarten.” You smile proudly.

“Can you believe that, Joel?” Your father lets out a scoff and shakes his head. “I spent thousands and thousands of dollars to send her to school. All that money and for what? For her to learn how to teach little ankle biters how to color inside the lines?” He rolls his eyes and gestures to your two brothers on the opposite side of the table. “Now my boys, they are smart. Chose good careers to pursue. Brandon starts applying to medical school in the spring. Oh and Matthew? He got early acceptance to Yale. He plans on studying law.” He shifts his attention over to you once more and shrugs. “Not too sure where I went wrong with this one.”

You stare at him in complete and utter disbelief.

“Dad.”

Chortling, he waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, come on, honey. I’m just kidding around. You know that I don’t mean it.” He then reaches out, pinching your cheek roughly. “Don’t be so sensitive,” he tells you before turning his attention back to his plate.

But he does mean it.

His comments hurt, and you hate that they hurt.

Joel nudges your arm with his. “Y’know somethin’, it takes someone real special to become a teacher, ‘specially to kids that age,” he states in a matter of fact tone. “Someone who’s real sweet and patient, someone real smart too. Someone just like you.”

Warmth radiates through your entire body. It’s not just his words, but it’s the sincerity behind them.

You shoot him a small, grateful smile.

The two of you wind up talking to one another.

Joel’s moving his contracting business, bringing it back to Austin from Phoenix to run it with Tommy, his younger brother who you vaguely remembered meeting a time or two in the past. He mentions his daughter here and there, but doesn’t bring Connie up once—perhaps it’s too painful for him? It’s hard to tell. He seems to be in good spirits and truth be told, it doesn’t appear he’s mourning his marriage; but it’s difficult to believe he’s not missing her, the woman he’d spent three decades of his life with. It shouldn’t even matter to you whether he’s missing his ex-wife or not, if there are residual feelings still lingering around. But it does matter and you don’t know why. Or maybe you do know why, but you’re too ashamed to admit it.

“Do you like Chicago?” Joel questions, curiously.

Shrugging, you respond, “Yeah. It’s a cool city.”

“You plan on stayin’ out there permanently?”

“I’m not too sure,” you admit. “It’s too expensive. I don’t want to live with a roommate forever. Unless teachers start getting paid more, I don’t think that I’ll ever be able to afford to live alone in Chicago.”

Joel seems hesitant about his next query. “Do you ever think ‘bout comin’ back to Austin at all?”

Suddenly, you’re not too sure about that either.

You’ve been itching to go back and get as far from Austin, Texas as possible, but now, it means being far from Joel Miller. There’s a deep, sinking feeling inside of your chest at the thought.

Realizing he’s still waiting for a response, you have no choice but to tell him the truth. “I don’t think I’ll ever come back here, to be honest. Not to stay.”

“Oh. I see.” He sounds disappointed. “Are you—do you plan on visitin’ home again for Christmas?”

“I do. I’ll be here for Christmas and New Year’s.”

He’s being friendly. He’s being friendly. He’s—

“It’d be real nice to see you again then.” Flushing a deep shade of red, subtle regret flashes across his features, as if he’d said it without thinking. Picking up his glass, he drains the rest of his wine and you can swear he’s nervous. About what he’d just said, and about whether or not your parents, who are in such close proximity, had overheard him. Because what business did he have in telling their daughter it would be nice to see her again?

They’re both much too preoccupied. Your father is attempting to be slick checking his text messages underneath the table and you can tell by the smirk on his face that it’s one of his secretaries. He’s got a penchant for perky blondes in tight pencil skirts. Your mother is well aware of this. She is also aware he’s on his phone, but she turns a blind eye just as she always does and distracts herself by being the perfect hostess.

Feeling foolishly courageous, you turn back to him and nod, heart pounding against your sternum. “It would. It’d be very nice, actually.”

Relieved, he nods and murmurs quietly, “We’ll talk ‘bout it later, then. That okay, darlin’?”

Not wanting to seem too eager, you nod again and turn away from him, teeth sinking into your lip in a futile attempt to hide the giddiness in your smile—but the soft chuckle Joel elicits under his breath is a clear indication that it’s useless.

He knows how he’s making you feel. He likes it.

Your mother returns from the kitchen carrying two baskets of fresh crescent rolls, one for each end of the table. She sets one of them down right in front of you and you reach out to take one when a voice, one that sounds as awful as nails scraping down a chalkboard, remarks loudly, “Should you be eating so much bread, dear?” Ines, who’s sitting a couple chairs down, next to your grandmother, looks over at you and raises an eyebrow. There’s a smug little smile on her face, almost as if she were daring you to run your mouth like you’d done last year.

For as much as it pains you, you make your choice and decide not to take the bait. You pull your hand out of the basket of rolls and pick up your glass of wine instead, chugging it down like it’s water.

Frowning, Joel picks up the basket and takes a roll that you assume is for himself, but it’s not. Putting it on your plate, he shoots her a frigid glare. “Don’t you listen to her.” He says it loud enough for her to hear him. “You just enjoy yourself, alright?”

Your aunt bats her eyes, innocently. “Well, I’m just saying. If my skirt was that tight on me, I would be thinking twice about what goes into my mouth.”

Hushed laughter sweeps across the entire table.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” You slam your empty glass down so hard onto the table that the entire dining room goes completely silent. The little ones at the children’s table stare with big and wide eyes, mouths full of food hung open because a grown up had just used a naughty word.

Your mother says your name warningly. “Don’t you start,” she hisses, shaking her head. “Be quiet.”

Angrily, you round on her. “Seriously? You’re going to let her say that to me? You don’t care that she’s making comments about my weight?” You almost laugh. Of course doesn’t care, she has never cared and she never will. “I’m your daughter! Would it kill you to defend me for once in your fucking life?”

“Shut your mouth!” Your father stands up, shoving a threatening finger into your face, so close the tip of it almost touches the tip of your nose. He hasn’t put his hands on you since you were nine, but he’s as drunk as he is angry, and you find yourself back in the shoes of the little girl who would curl up into a ball in the corner of her room as she begged and pleaded for him not to hurt her. “You hear me?”

Joel stands and walks around your chair. Placing a hand on your father’s chest, he mutters, “Hey now let’s take a step back from her, alright?” He guides him back down into his chair. “Ain’t gotta be in her face like that, Will.”

“I’m sick and tired of her ruining everything—can’t get through one dinner without her screwing it up! Always has to run that fucking mouth of hers! She still acts like a goddamn fucking child—”

You can’t bear to sit there and hear another insult.

Fighting back the hot tears that are threatening to spill over, you quickly stand up and rush out of the dining room. You make a beeline for the front door and step outside onto the porch. It’s about sixty or so degrees in Austin and the cold nips at your bare legs, but that’s the least of your worries. Without a place to go, you descend the porch steps and find yourself walking towards the swing that’s hanging from the old bur oak tree in the front yard. You had asked your father for a swing when you were three years old—it wasn’t until your brothers asked for a swing a couple years later that he’d hung one up.

You sit down, hands curling around the rope that’s so old and weathered it’s beginning to fray slightly but not so much so that you’re concerned about it snapping. You’re so busy trying to keep it together that you don’t notice the sound of crisp, autumnal leaves crunching under a pair of boots behind you. A hand gingerly touches your shoulder. You let out a startled gasp and glance over to see it’s Joel.

“Hey there, darlin’,” he says, gently.

You stare at him in surprise.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Needed to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” you grit the lie through your teeth.

Joel’s expression softens. “You ain’t gotta pretend with me, sweetheart.”

His concern is genuine. It’s real.

You don’t quite know how to handle it. Accept it.

“It got real ugly in there, ‘specially with your dad.”

Tears prickle at your eyes all over again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Joel. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” Baffled, Joel walks around the swing and a minor labored grunt escapes him as he squats in front of you. “There’s a few people who need to be apologizin’ for what happened, but darlin’ you sure as fuckin’ hell ain’t one of them.”

It’s odd. Feels foreign, even.

You’re not used to someone being on your side—it prompts more tears to spring forward and despite your best efforts to fight them off, it’s useless. You manage to whisper his name. It’s a feeble warning, one that’s telling him to go back inside before he’s caught in the torrential downpour of emotions you are mere seconds away from unleashing on him.

But he doesn’t budge. He waits. Joel knows you’re about to break and he’s ready to catch the pieces.

Finally, a tear slips and rolls down your cheek, only to be followed by another and then another. You’re holding onto the swing for dear life now, emotions that you’ve been holding in for your whole life now coming to the surface. The rope digs painfully into the palms of your hands. He reaches out and curls his fingers lightly around your wrists.

“S’okay to let go,” Joel encourages you and you’re certain he’s not just referring to the swing. “Listen to me, darlin’ girl. I ain’t gonna let you fall, alright? I’m right here to catch you. You can let go. I’ve got you, okay?”

You allow Joel to take your hands off the rope and he guides them around his shoulders as you begin to crumble. Leaning forward slightly off the swing, you wrap you arms around him and bury your face into his neck. “Joel,” you choke out his name as he wraps his own arms around your waist, pulling you closer into him.

He feels like stability.

He feels like security.

He feels like safety.

Your entire body shudders as you cry, cry, cry.

“S’alright, sweet girl. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

He repeats his reassurance over and over again.

He wants you to believe it.

And you do believe it.

Joel’s as patient as can be. It’s growing colder and his knees are begging for a change of positon, but couldn’t care less about the discomfort. He rubs a soothing circle into your back and waits until there is nothing left except little hiccups and sniffles.

“Shit,” you mumble when you pull back and notice you’d left behind a wet spot on his shirt along with light traces of mascara. You wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater. “I ruined your shirt.”

“S’okay. Nothin’ the dry cleaners can’t take care of for me.” Joel chuckles and lets go of you. “You feel a little better now, darlin’?”

“I do.” You glance over your shoulder at the house, then exhale a sigh and turn back to him, admitting quietly, “I don’t want to go back in there, though.”

He rises to his feet and pulls out a set of keys from the pocket of his black jeans. “Well, y’dont have to go back in there,” he states. “Is there somewhere I can take you? Friend’s house, maybe?”

“My best friend Megan went to Puerto Vallarta for Thanksgiving. Most of my other friends left Austin like I did,” you explain, sighing again. “Anyone who didn’t leave is spending their time with their family tonight and I don’t want to bother them.”

Joel hums, mulling it over in his mind. “Well, don’t know how comfortable you’ll be with the idea, but my place ain’t all too far from here. Ten minutes or so. Less if there’s no one out on the roads.”

“Joel, that’s so nice of you to offer, but I’ve already ruined your dinner tonight. The last thing I want to do is put you out even more,” you say, sheepishly.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t ruin a fuckin’ thing for me tonight. And you wouldn’t be puttin’ me out at all,” he promises. “S’gettin’ late and truth be told, I just wanna get you somewhere warm.” Holding out his free hand, he adds, “And comfortable.”

“But Joel—”

“I can be real stubborn too, y’know,” he teases you with a playful grin. “We’ll be out here all night long freezin’ our fuckin’ asses off.”

He isn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Okay,” you relent, accepting the offer.

You place your hand in his and he helps you off the swing. He doesn’t let it go as he leads the way to a sleek, black Dodge Ram that’s parked behind your grandfather’s silver Mercedes. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before dropping it. “Sorry, sweet girl. It’s a bit of a trip up into the seat,” he remarks, chuckling as he opens the passenger side door for you. He gives you a boost into the truck; the scent of new leather is mixed with that of his cologne. It is all man and couldn’t be sexier. “Good up there?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Joel closes the door and hurriedly walks around to the driver’s side of the pickup, climbing up into his seat with ease. “Seatbelt,” he tells you as he sticks the key into the ignition. The first thing he does as soon as the engine roars to life is turn on your seat warmer. He switches on the heater as well, waiting a minute before asking, “You warm enough?”

“I am. Thank you, Joel.”

“‘Course.” He nods and pulls away from the curb.

As Joel’s driving you further and further from your parents’ house, all you feel is sweet relief.

“M’sorry the place is such a mess.”

Joel leads you into his living room and touches his hand to the back of his neck, embarrassed.

Amused, you raise an eyebrow at him and say, “I’d hardly call cardboard boxes stacked neatly over on one side of the room a mess, Joel.” You take a look around his townhouse—most of his furniture’s still wrapped up in plastic, except for the black leather couch and the rustic, acacia wood coffee table. He has a flat screen mounted over the brick fireplace; he’s been sleeping on the couch, or at least, that’s what the pillow and Texas Longhorns fleece throw tells you. You turn to him. “If you want to see a real mess, you should see my apartment in Chicago.”

You watch him as he takes off his glasses and puts them down on the coffee table.

“S’it pretty bad?”

“My roommate’s a kindergarten teacher too. You’d be surprised at how many popsicle sticks two girls in their twenties can end up bringing home. Not to mention all the glitter.”

“If you’re tryin’ to make me feel better, it’s workin’ like a charm.” Joel picks up his blanket and drapes it over the armchair adjacent to the couch. “Go on and make yourself comfortable, darlin’. You thirsty at all? I’ve got water or I can make coffee. Also got a pack of beer in the fridge,” he adds, jokingly.

“What kind of beer?” you ask curiously as you sink down onto the couch.

He seems pleasantly surprised by your interest.

“Lone Star.”

“I’ll have one. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“‘Course it’s not too much trouble. Not at all.”

It’s hard not to stare as he walks away towards the kitchen. Your thighs clench together—his back, his shoulders, those unkempt salt and pepper curls of his that tuft at the nape of his neck right above his collar—this man is the epitome of utter perfection. Your mind wanders and you can’t help imagine the way your legs would look thrown over those broad shoulders. How his large hands would feel on your plush skin as they wrap around your thighs to hold them in place against his chest while he fucks y—

“Here you go, darlin’.”

Joel’s deep voice shatters your train of thought.

He’s standing beside you, holding out the bottle of beer, which he’d uncapped along with his own.

Blood rushes to your cheeks. “Thank you,” you say as you accept the beer from him, trying not to lose the sliver of composure that you’re holding onto—it wavers when your fingers accidentally brush his.

“S’it too cold in here for you?” he asks. “I normally keep the thermostat pretty low.”

“It’s a little cold,” you admit. “But it’s not a prob—”

It’s too late. Joel walks over to the fireplace and he manages to strike a match and light it with just his free hand. After tossing in a couple logs, he makes his way back over to the couch and he takes a seat beside you. “That a bit better, sweetheart?”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugs. “You said it was cold.”

He takes a long, generous swig of the golden lager before setting the bottle down on one of the green ceramic coasters on the coffee table. He sits back; an arm stretches out over the back of the couch in a casual manner and his legs spread open causing your thighs to clench together once more.

“You feelin’ alright?”

“Huh?” You then realize he is referring to what had happened at dinner. “Oh. Um. Yeah, I’m alright.”

Joel peers at you, his concern evident, clear in the depths of his dark brown eyes. “You sure?”

“No. Not really,” you confess, tracing the mouth of your bottle with your index finger. “But I’ll get over it. I don’t have a choice but to get over it.” Another lump starts forming in the back of your throat and you swallow it, quickly chasing it down with a gulp of beer.

“M’guessin’ your family’s got somethin’ to do with why you decided to leave Austin?”

“Bingo,” you deadpan. “I was so sick and tired of it all. How I was talked to, how I was treated. Like I’m such a fucking disappointment.”

He frowns. “You’re not a disappointment, though.”

“My parents think I’m a disappointment. My dad’s never told me he’s proud of me, Joel. Nothing I do, nothing I have ever done is good enough for either of them, but especially not for him.” There is a dull ache that settles in your heart and all you can do is silently will yourself not to breakdown again, not in front of him, at least. You sigh. “Do you know what it’s like, not feeling good enough for someone that is supposed to love you no matter what? Someone who’s supposed to love you unconditionally?”

Joel knows it’s a rhetorical question, he knows it’s not something you’re expecting him to answer.

But he does answer, because he does know.

“I do, actually. I know all too well what it feels like.”

He looks down at his left hand, which is resting on his thigh and you do too. Your eyes flicker over the fading tanline on his finger—where he once wore a wedding band. You don’t even think twice about it and reach over, sweeping your own finger over the patch of pale skin. Without missing a beat, you tell him, “You’re good enough, Joel.”

He can’t help but laugh a little. “She’d disagree.”

“She’s wrong.”

“You don’t know what happened.”

“I don’t have to know what happened.”

“That ain’t how it works, sweetheart.”

Stubbornly, you lift your chin. “I don’t care.”

Joel laughs. “Y’think you know me, darlin’? Y’think you know what kinda man I am? Hm?”

“I do know.” You place your hand on top of his and his jaw clenches. “You’re a good man, Joel Miller. I know that you’re a good man.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong ‘bout that.” There’s a brief pause and he hesitates before confessing, “A good man wouldn’t be sittin’ here just fuckin’ dyin’ to kiss his best friend’s daughter.”

You freeze and grip your bottle so tight, you would not be the slightest bit surprised if it shatters right in your hand. “You—you want to kiss me?”

“Since the moment you opened up that front door and said hello to me.” Joel shakes his head. “S’not right.” He’s riddled with guilt, with shame. He pulls his hand out from under yours. “I ain’t a good man at all. You’re half my fuckin’ age and I shouldn’t—”

You cut him off, softly uttering his name. “Joel?”

“Yeah?” His voice sounds hoarse. Strained.

“Can you—will you kiss me? Please?”

You need more than just his kiss, so much more.

You need him to unravel you in every way possible, but beggars can’t be choosers and if one kiss was all you’ll get tonight, then you’ll fucking take it.

Joel swallows dryly. “That really what you want?”

His eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to meet your sweet, innocent gaze.

“Yes,” you breathe in reply. “Please. Kiss me.”

He leans in, and there’s brief hesitation on his part and he stops mere centimeters from your face, his nose lightly brushing against yours. “We shouldn’t be doin’ this.” His warm breath fans over your lips; they’re parted, eager to meet his own. “I shouldn’t let this happen. I—I should take you back home to your family before I do somethin’ real stupid.”

Your heart sinks. “That really what you want?” you parrot his own question back to him and hold your breath, knowing there’s a chance his answer could be the answer that you don’t want to hear, the one that could end up crushing you.

Joel lifts his hand, cupping the side of your face in his palm. “‘Course it’s not what I want.” His thumb strokes your cheek, his dark eyes taking in each of your features. He’s studying, memorizing them, as if he’ll never get another chance to be this close to you again. With the line he’s about to cross, you’re both about to cross, that just might be the case.

The tension seeps through your skin and into your bones.

You exhale shakily. “Then just kiss me already.”

He moves his hand and gently curls it around your chin, holding you steady as he leans further in and closes the gap of space in between you. He moves slowly and he’s gentle—too gentle. You want to tell him you’re not made of porcelain, but you’re much too preoccupied with how Joel’s mouth feels, how perfectly it molds against yours. He delicately nips your bottom lip with his teeth. It’s a silent request.

He wants more, more, more. Your lips part for him, granting him the access he’s seeking. Joel doesn’t waste a single moment and he explores every inch of your mouth with his tongue, eliciting a whimper from you. Without breaking contact, he takes your beer and somehow he manages to lean over to set it down on the coffee table without dropping it. He then pushes you back into the couch and the next thing you know, you’re lying on your back and he’s settled in between your legs, using one of his arms to keep himself propped up, while the other wraps itself in your hair. Your own hands clutch at fistfuls of his shirt, fingers gripping the fabric so tight, the skin over your knuckles stretches painfully thin.

You whimper out again, the noise prompting a low growl to rumble through his chest—suddenly, he’s not being so gentle. He isn’t being rough. But he is hungry, he’s possessive, and he’s letting it show in the way he’s swelling your lips with his kisses, how his fingers are gripping the hair at the base of your neck as he firmly tilts your head backwards to give himself better access to your mouth.

Your mind is racing, and yet, you can’t think at all.

It’s not until his hips buck into you and you feel his bulge through his jeans against you that you break away from him. “Joel,” you gasp his out name. You grip his shirt even harder, chest heaving as you try to catch a much needed breath of air. You can feel the arousal pooling between your legs. The flames burning in the fireplace are nothing in comparison to the ones that are burning deep in your belly.

“Fuck,” he curses, pulling back. “M’sorry—”

The last thing you want is for him to be sorry.

“No! Please don’t be sorry,” you rasp, gazing up at him. Your eyes are glazed over with a lust you have never felt for another man before. “I want this, you know I want this—don’t you?”

Joel sighs, brushing a soft kiss to your temple. You wish he could take a peek into your mind, see how badly you want to be wrapped up in his arms—you want to get lost in his embrace, feel him all around you, inside you. You want him to write his name on your bare skin with his tongue, whisper his secrets into the spot where you’re aching for him most.

He sighs again and lightly shakes his head.

“Baby, y’need to think real hard ‘bout this—”

“I want this,” you repeat yourself. “I want you.”

Relaxing the death grip you have on his shirt, your hands release the fabric and move to the buttons. Your fingers tremble slightly as you undo each one of them; after an embarrassing fumble or two, you manage to get them all and push Joel’s shirt off of his shoulders. He sucks in a quick, sharp breath as your greedy hands begin roaming, exploring every inch of smooth, tan skin on his upper body.

Your touch erases all the uncertainty he’s feeling.

“Wanna feel you too, baby.” Joel takes the hem of your sweater and gestures for you to sit up slightly so he can pull it over your head. Carelessly tossing it somewhere behind him, he glances down, blood rushing to his cock as he takes in the sight of your supple curves clad in sweet, delicate white lace. “Christ, you look so fuckin’ soft.”

He doesn’t even realize he’s saying it out loud, not until he catches the flirtatious little grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. You sit up slightly once again and reach behind you to unhook the lingerie and take it off, adding it to the ever growing pile of clothes on the hardwood floor. Licking his lips, he meets your gaze for just a moment before dipping his head down, wrapping them around one of your hardened nipples. “Joel,” you mewl his name as he flicks the pebbled flesh with his tongue.

Joel releases it with a lewd, wet pop and he tosses you a smirk before he moves to the other to give it the same attention. He’s a biter, you find out as he takes it between his teeth, nipping over and over.

Your throbbing center clenches around nothing.

“Joel, please. I need you—I fucking need you.”

He tears away from your nipple. “Where, baby?”

You open your mouth to answer him, but your own gasp cuts you off as he starts trailing his lips down the length of your body until he comes to a stop at the waistband of your skirt. One of his hands finds the zipper on the side and he looks up at you, as if asking for permission. Desperate, you nod. Pulling the zipper down, he slides the skirt, along with the pair of lace white panties you’re wearing off of you and discards them, leaving you completely naked.

Your insecurities begin to trickle in, but Joel’s able to halt them right in their tracks.

“You’re too fuckin’ beautiful, sweetheart,” he says, his reassurance calming your nerves instantly. “So beautiful. So beautiful and so fuckin’ perfect.”

You watch as he makes himself comfortable—well as comfortable as he can—in between your legs. He shoots you a sheepish look.

“Knew I should’a put the damn bed together. But I been puttin’ it off and puttin’ it off all week long.”

You giggle breathlessly. “Who needs a bed?”

Chuckling, Joel feathers a kiss on your inner thigh.

Your smile is all but slapped right off of your face.

“Joel.”

Any traces of humor vanish. You’re both reminded of the next wall that’s about to be broken, the next line that’s about to be crossed.

He looks down and groans. “Such a pretty, perfect little pussy,” he remarks, his voice low, husky. “Bet she’s nice and wet for me, ain’t she baby?” He lifts his hand and drags the tip of his finger up your slit slowly, your slick coating his digit. He smirks up at you. “Oh, she’s fuckin’ soakin’, sweet girl. S’this all for me?”

Foreplay wasn’t in the vocabulary of guys your age and while part of you wishes Joel would hurry, you also find yourself enjoying the fact that he’s taking his time, teasing you—making you really want it to the point where you’re willing to fucking plead him for it. Joel Miller’s the only man you’d ever beg for.

He skims your other thigh with his nose and kisses it just like he’d done with the other. “Tell me darlin’ s’this where you need me? Right here?”

Frantically, you nod your head.

“Words, honey. Gotta use your words for me.”

“Yes!” you choke out. “That’s where I need you. So bad. Need you so fucking bad. Please Daddy—”

You freeze and momentarily, he does too. Truth be told, you wouldn’t really blame him if he just stood up, gathered your clothes and tossed them at you, demanding you put them back on and leave.

Joel raises an eyebrow. “Daddy, huh?”

Your face is on fire. “I—it slipped,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to call you—I’m so sorry, Joel. I’m not even sure where that came from. I’ve never—”

You’re on the verge of panicking, then notice there is a certain glimmer in his eyes and realize he liked it when you’d called him that. You’re taken aback.

He fucking likes being called Daddy.

“Sweetheart, there ain’t nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout. I promise. You can call me that. But on a condition.”

You stare at him, no idea what the condition could possibly be.

“Ain’t allowed to call anyone else that. Ever.” There is a possessiveness in his tone and it nearly makes you come on the spot. “That understood?”

You nod obediently. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” he prompts.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good. That’s a real good girl, honey.”

For a split second, you can’t breathe.

This man will surely be the death of you.

Joel plants one final kiss, this one on your mound.

“Please,” you whimper, the heat in your lower belly growing and fizzling out to the rest of your body at the feeling of his breath over your aching core.

“Please what?” he murmurs into the sensitive skin as his arms curl around your legs. “Tell Daddy—tell Daddy what you need baby, so he can take care of you.”

“Your mouth,” you beg him, desperation mounting with each passing second. Your hips buck upward; his biceps flex as he tightens his arms around your thighs, pinning you down in place. “Your mouth—I need your mouth. Please.”

Joel moves his head to the junction of your thighs, his mouth hovering right over where you needed it the most. He looks up at you with hunger, like he’s a ravenous, starved man who hasn’t had a thing to eat in days. “What a good girl,” he praises, dipping his head even lower. His mouth waters at the sight of your glistening folds. “Bet you taste as delicious as you fuckin’ look, don’t you, pretty girl?”

He flattens his tongue and glides it up your slit, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he gets his first taste. You gasp out when it grazes your swollen, aroused clit and your head falls back onto the couch. “Oh fuck,” you whine, reaching for his hair. You weave your hands through his graying locks and pull his face closer. Another swipe of his tongue causes your back to arch up off the leather and the edges of your vision to blur.

He pulls an arm from around your legs and drags a finger down your drenched entrance, lips securing themselves around your clit. His gaze stays locked on you as he pushes his long, thick digit into you—you feel him smirk as he curls it upwards, pressing the pad of his finger firmly against the soft spongy spot inside you, making you see stars. Joel slips in a second finger and curls it along with the other to double the pleasure. He begins thrusting his digits in and out of your warm cunt, eliciting what had to be the sweetest sounds that he’d ever heard in his entire life from you. He combines it with with slow, firm, and precise stokes of his tongue on your clit.

“Fuck, yes, just like that,” you encourage him, your loud, breathy moans bouncing off the bare, freshly painted walls of his house. “Yes Daddy, fuck—feels so fucking good, please don’t fucking stop—”

It’s not like you have to tell him what to do.

Joel knows exactly what he’s doing, and he knows it too. He listens to every single one of your moans and feels every single buck of your hips. He is sure to pay extra attention to when your hands pull and tug at his curls; he remembers what combinations of licking, sucking, and fucking make you squeeze your plush thighs tighter around his head; reminds himself of which technique brings your body off of the couch, what makes your toes curl. Joel’s quick to learn your body’s cues, each and every last one. He already knows when to give you more, when to give you less—when he needs speed up, when it is time to slow it all down.

You sing his name over and over again, pressure of an orgasm already building between your hips. His tongue swirls around your sensitive little bundle of nerves as his fingers pump in and out of your cunt and you glance down. You almost choke when you catch a tiny glimpse of the muscles in his forearm, the way they flex underneath his skin with each of his movements as he’s fucking you. Your gaze flits to his face. His own eyes are fixed intently on you.

You’re milliseconds away from release.

“Joel, I’m so fucking close. I’m gonna come—”

His arm squeezes your thigh in encouragement.

One last, broad stroke of Joel’s tongue on your clit sends an overwhelming wave of pleasure crashing over you. Strangled cries tear themselves from the back of your throat as your velvet walls flutter and convulse, squeezing his fingers. Joel, who’s face is still half buried in your pussy, takes it upon himself to help you ride through the high. He peppers soft, delicate kisses onto your swollen clit as his fingers continue to slide in and out of you slowly. He waits patiently until your loud cries dissolve into nothing but breathless little whimpers before he crawls up, positioning himself on top of you, a hand on either side of your head. His beard and mustache glisten with a mixture of saliva and slick—and somehow it it ignites another fire and you’re ready for more, so much more.

“Sweet girl,” Joel murmurs. Leaning down, his lips meet yours and you taste yourself on his tongue

You place a hand on his chest, right over his heart, which beats strong and steady against your palm.

You start dragging your hand down his chest, your fingernails raking over his skin. It travels lower and lower, gliding over the softness of his stomach. He tenses when you brush the waistband of his jeans.

Tearing away from you, he grits out, “Baby. No.”

You immediately snatch your hand away from him.

“You changed your mind?” you question, stomach sinking at the thought of it being over already.

You’re just so fucking greedy for this man.

He offers reassurance—and an explanation.

“No, that ain’t it at all. S’just—” Joel pauses briefly and flushes a shade of red. “S’just that, well, I ain’t got condoms on me, darlin’.”

Relieved, you assure him, “It’s okay. I’m clean.”

“Me too. But that ain’t what I’m worried about,” he admits, his face going from red to maroon.

You smile, finding his embarrassment endearing.

“I’m on birth control.”

Joel clenches his hands into fists. His cock strains against his zipper at the thought of it—taking your cunt bare. “Y’sure you want this?” He rasps out. “I need you to be a hundred percent sure ‘bout it.”

“I’m a thousand percent sure, Joel. I fucking need it. More than anything I’ve ever needed in my life.”

That’s all he needed to hear.

Joel stands up, his gaze never leaving your own as he kicks off his black leather boots. You sit up, and it takes every ounce of strength you have in you to remain composed as he unbuckles his belt, unzips his jeans and pushes them down his legs. You bite down on your bottom lip and try not to stare at his bulge like it’s your first time ever seeing a dick, but if he’s as big as he looks in his boxer briefs, maybe this would end up being a lot more than what your body could handle.

He hooks his thumbs underneath the elastic of his boxer briefs and slides them off, allowing his thick, hard cock to spring free from its confinement.

You swallow harshly. He’s fucking massive.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” Joel chuckles at the expression on your face as he kicks aside all of his clothes. His length rests on his lower abdomen and precome smears the skin there. Wrapping one of his hands around it, he gives it a couple strokes, just a hint of relief until you come into play. “Hm?”

Licking your lips, you nod and stand up. You take a couple of wobbling step towards him—Joel’s cock hasn’t been anywhere near you and you’re already fucking walking side to side. “Come here,” you say to him, taking both his hands in your own. You pull him back to the couch and gently guide him down into a sitting position. Swinging your leg over both of his, you straddle his lap. You gingerly place your hands on his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh softly when you feel him brush against your pussy; the contact makes you both moan in unsion. “This okay?” you ask him, breathily. You can’t be sure as to why you’re suddenly feeling a bit shy, like you’re not planning to ride his fucking soul out of him.

“More than okay.” Joel brushes your hair over your shoulder and then drags his hand down the length of your body, committing to his memory every one of your curves. “Gonna be a real good girl and ride my cock, baby?”

You gift him with a cheeky grin. “Yes, Daddy.”

The shyness begins to dissipate and you dive your hand between your bodies, wrapping it around his cock, causing his breath to catch in his throat. You lift yourself slightly off his lap, teasingly gliding the head of his cock down your drenched slit, then up, letting it graze over your clit, which is still senstive to the touch thanks to his lips and tongue.

Joel’s hands find their way around you, running up the curve of your spine. “Wasn’t aware that my girl was such a little fuckin’ tease,” he remarks in a low tone. He slides his hands back down and his large, warm palms cup your ass, fingers kneading flesh.

“Your girl?” you repeat, your heart skipping a beat, stomach fluttering at the idea of being his. “Is that what I am to you, Joel? Your girl?”

“S’that what you want, honey?” Joel whispers, his eyes finding your own, two hopeful gazes meeting in the deepest, most intimate moment that you’ve shared all evening. “Y’wanna be my girl?”

Leaning forward, your reply is preceded by kiss, so soft and so sweet his heart swells inside his chest.

“I do,” you mumble against his lips. “I really do.”

Still gripping your ass, Joel eases you up and lines himself up at your entrance. He bucks his hips and slides the head of his cock past your folds and into your heat. “Breathe, baby,” he whispers, his hands moving to your hips, thumbs grazing your skin. He slowly guides you further down his shaft, grunting as you sink down, taking him inch by inch. “Christ, you’re so goddamn fuckin’ tight—”

The initial stretch is almost too much for you. Your nails sink deeper into his shoulders as he pulls you down further down onto him. “Joel,” you whimper, biting back a loud cry. You’re fully seated, his cock completely sheathed inside you, his head pressing against your cervix. You’re so full of him.

One of his hands abandons your hip and slips over your lower belly.

“This where you’re feelin’ me, pretty girl?” he coos gently. “This where you feel Daddy’s cock? In your belly?”

“Yes,” you sigh out contentedly. “Feels so good.”

You lift yourself off of him, then slide back down in a slow, languid motion.

Joel’s head falls back onto the couch. “Christ.” He mutters the word, his chest heaving. Staring up at the ceiling, he takes a moment to catch his breath and silently wills himself not to explode. Once he’s managed to somewhat compose himself, he looks at you again, pupils blown so wide you can’t find a single trace of brown. “Go on, then,” he rasps. “Go on, sweetheart.”

The living room fills with the sounds of low moans and panting breaths as you move, alternating your maneuvers between rocking and bouncing on him in a frenzied, fast paced rhythm. The friction of his pelvis each time you grind into it winds up the coil between your hips and suddenly you’re desperate, so pathetically desperate for another release.

“Yeah, that’s it baby,” Joel encourages, feeling the beginning of his own climax building quick—much too quick for his liking. “Jus’ like that, honey. What a good girl you are for me, so fuckin’ good for me. Just like I fuckin’ knew you would be.”

“Fuck,” you whine. “You feel so good, Daddy. Feel so fucking good inside me—”

Leaning back, you firmly plant both your hands on his thighs and arch your body, head falling back as you pick up the pace. The burning fire casts a soft, orange glow around you and his jaw falls slack. His eyes drink in every single fucking thing about you, watch you with an adoration that, for the first time in your whole life, makes you feel wanted. Actually wanted.

“Joel,” you whisper his name over and over. You’re both beginning to lose track of where you end and he begins. You can hardly hear the praises that are spilling from his plush lips over the squelching wet sounds of your cunt sliding up and down his cock. There’s no chance to warn him—your mouth parts in a silent scream as you come undone on him.

“M’so fuckin’ close,” Joel grunts. He feels his cock twitch as your pussy grips him like a vice. “Where? Where do you want it, pretty girl?”

“Inside me. Please, I need you to come inside me,” you plead him, the innocent tone of your voice the last thing to push him over the edge he’s teetering on. “Fill me up, Daddy—please, want every drop of you inside me—”

Joel reaches for your arms and yanks you forward, into him. Throwing them around his neck, his own arms wrap around you and roughly slam you down onto him, holding you firmly in place. He bucks his hips upwards, balls tightening, his cock pulsing as he comes. Strings of hissed curse words and deep gutteral groans muffle when he drops his face into your collarbone. Still holding you in place, he spills his load into you, his seed filling you to the brim.

He sags back against the couch and pulls you with him. Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he lets himself stay buried inside of you, the primal in him relishing the heavenly feeling of his come dripping messily out of your pussy and all over his thighs.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asks after a minute.

“M’perfect,” you mumble against his chest. You’re not sure if it’s because you’re coming down from a high or if it’s because he’s tracing patterns on your shoulder blade with his finger, but you shiver in his arms.

“Let me get the blanket—”

Joel starts to move to get up, but you stop him.

“No, please don’t,” you say, pushing him back. You put all of your weight onto him, as if he can’t move you off to the side if he really wanted to. “I—I want you inside me for a little while longer. Please.”

“But baby, you’re cold—”

You don’t bother explaining to him that you’re not.

“Just hold me. Please.”

And that’s exactly what he does.

Snuggling into him, you close your eyes and Joel’s hand strokes at your hair. Between that, the thrum of his heartbeat against your cheek and the sound of the fireplace crackling behind you, you’re nearly soothed into sleep.

“Joel?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“I hate Thanksgiving,” you admit, smiling tiredly to yourself when you feel a laugh rumble in his chest.

“Do you, now?”

You nod. “I do. But I’m really thankful for you.”

Giving you a gentle squeeze, Joel kisses the top of your head and murmurs, “Well, m’thankful for you too, sweet girl.” He pauses momentarily. “I ain’t all too sure how I’m s’pposed to just let you go home. I know I have to but—”

Lifting your head off of his chest, you take the side of his face and cradle it in your palm. You meet his gaze, heart sinking when you see the sadness that has replaced the lust from earlier.

He doesn’t mean home to your parents’ house. He means Chicago.

You graze his beard with your thumb. “I’m coming back in a few weeks,” you remind him, gently. “I’ve only planned to spend a week out here just for the holidays, but I can visit sooner. As soon as the kids go on winter break, I can come back to Austin.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course I would, Joel. I’m not sure how it would work what with my parents and all, though. I don’t want them catching onto us.”

“C’mere.” Joel brushes your lips with his before he makes his promise. “I’ll figure it out, baby. Leave it all to me and I’ll figure it out.”

divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎

[winterarmyy]

Welcome Home... Soldat? | Part II

That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra

Words: 4.2k++ (of fluff and filth)

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, no minors allowed, nsfw, dub con, fingering, pussyjob, thighjob, soldat being manipulative yet maintains to be so loving at the same time, another round of google translated russian, filthy praises, soldat just want to make you feel good, wet & messy everywhere, loud & whiny soldat, and at the end of the day, despite the manipulation, the soldat just want take care of you.

A/N: omfg 1k++ notes from the previous chapter?! i didn't think this would get so much attention that it had, tbh. Like wtf. What did I do to deserve this 😭 Thank you so much for your support! I can't even begin to tell you guys how much joy y'all bring me. So, I decided write more of our soft soldat for all of us cause let's be honest, we need him so bad. It's gonna be 3 part mini series. I hope you enjoy!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

The darkness in his sight seemed permenant, at least until it transitioned into a dim-litted scenery. He recognized softness of the bed, and the blank white color of the ceiling.

He was in his room.

But, when he realized the emptiness of his bed, it was as if a force jolted through his body, yanking his lying figure into a sitting position. The dead silent was broken by the sound of his gasping breaths, followed closely by the beats of his pounding heart.

"Родная (darling)?" His voice shivered in his shaky breath.

When the silent replied his call, cold sweat drenched the roots of his hair. He almost jumped into a defensive position when the door of the walk-in wardrobe seemingly opened on its own.

But to his relief, her voice broke the silence, "Soldat?" Y/N peeped out her head when she heard his voice but the moment she saw the panic in his blue eyes, she quickly made her way towards him.

As soon as she was standing near enough, the soldat pulled her into a crushing hug, rubbing his face into her stomach a relief washed over him. Y/N ran her hands through his hair as she coaxed, "I'm here, I'm here."

He hummed in reply, "You're here." He repeated as a sigh escaped his lips.

Y/N didn't know why she expected that Bucky would be back after their "sleepover" but it was a shock for her when she woke up that morning with several tender kisses on her face by the soldat, who was very much still present.

"So, you're saying he's is not the winter soldier?" Sam cocked his head to the side as he tried to wrap up the overwhelming information thrown by Shuri.

The woman rolled her eyes, "No, I didn't say that. I said, he is not fully relapsed into the winter soldier." She reclarified.

"How was this possible? I thought he was gone?" Y/N asked as her worried gaze glanced over Bucky's unmoving figure in the examination pod.

Shuri sighed as she approached her, they watched Bucky's peaceful features resting through the glass, "We only remove the trigger that were attached to a switch to activating the winter soldier from Bucky; the soldat was never gone."

Y/N's eyebrows creased as the wakandan continued to explain, "It's like removing the toggle from a light switch; you can't turn it on just like that. But if, let say we use a toothpick to poke through the hole and trigger the switch, then..."

Steve intercepted her words before she could finish, "...then it'll be turned on." The woman nodded, "Precisely."

"That does not explain why Bucky is partially... not himself." Tony quickly probed as he casually threw a red M&M's into his mouth.

Steve paced back and forth in the room as he tried to replay the day of the incident, "Maybe it has to do something in that Hydra base that we raided. Bucky did look troubled on the jet home, then when we arrived he suddenly went berserk, looking for something; well... someone". He stopped as he threw a knowing look to Y/N.

"Yeah, why he is suddenly acting lovey dovey with y/n if the soldier was triggered? I don't get it." Sam crossed his arms against his chest as he questioned.

A smile almost cracked on Shuri's lips when they mentioned that, "This is just a hypothesis; but I reckoned that Bucky knew that the soldier is slowly taking over his mind and he didn't want to let himself vulnerable, exposed for people to give him orders."

Shuri leaned her back towards the table as she continued, "So instead, he latched himself on something else, to act as his mission. Some kind of desire that's buried as deep as where his winter soldier persona was concealed."

"So, you're saying that grumpy old man's deepest, darkest desire is to suffocate y/n with kisses and cuddles?" Tony quirked his eyebrow as he chewed on the sweet chocolate snack; there was certainly sarcasm in his voice.

Y/N intictively took the nearest object within her reach, which turns out to be a thick manual book, and struck Tony on his arms. The man repulsed with a confused frown on his forehead, mouthing a soundless, "What?"

Y/N mouthed back, "Shut up!" while Sam chuckled amusingly at the silent banter between them.

Ignoring the back and forth between Y/N and Tony, Shuri answered, "Well, those urges are derived by a certain key emotion, which I'm sure put you that genius title of yours into a good use, then you should've known the answer already."

"Love." Steve's revelation cuts through before Tony could throw his banter at Shuri, "He loves y/n." He repeated his words as if all of this made absolute sense.

Which only made Y/N stop on her tracks, "He loves me?" she questioned herself but everyone in the lab can practically see the confusion on her face.

Shuri agreed to Steve's deduction, "Yes, perhaps. I supposed that is why he is protective over her and like he said, wanted to suffocate her with kisses and cuddles." Shuri pointed at Tony as she return his sarcasm.

"Wait wait wait." Y/N held her hands forward as she stepped in the middle of the conversation, "Why are we casually agreeing to that as if it's normal? I mean, I know I'm not a genius but that is absolutely ridiculous. Bucky doesn't love me, as a friend maybe, yeah, but not like that." She couldn't help but to blush as she recalled the way the soldat hands and lips mapped on her skin.

"Yes, you are absolutely not a genius, especially when you are one of the two idiots who's in love with each other." Tony casually laid out the fact as everybody in the lab nodded in agreement, including Steve who she thought would back her up.

Y/N shook her head in denial and revert the conversation back to its original destination, "So, how do we get Bucky back?"

Shuri opened the terminal screen as she watched the progress of her observation, "Well, we're still figuring that out." Y/N's shoulders slumped in defeat.

"But what I can say is, it is best to let him stick with y/n for now." Shuri concluded.

They took the whole day running tests on the soldat, which he obediently cooperate as long as Y/N was there to hold his hand.

Between resting for breakfast, lunch and snack break; the soldat spend his time to be forced to put to sleep and out of it through out the day.

Right after dinner, and the final test run, he was just left to sleep off the rest of the night and Y/N finally had time to prep herself to sleep, when she heard Bucky's voice from the bed.

"Just finished showering. Hope you don't mind me wearing your shirt, they kinda lock me in here." Y/N frowned when she thought back on how the team managed to bring most of her things over but then forgot to pack her signature iron man pyjamas.

A fond smile curved on the soldat's lips as his gaze raked over her small body wrapped in his baggy shirt, which fell right at the middle of her naked thighs.

Y/N swore that there saw a flash of Bucky in his gleaming eyes. Or maybe she was just being delusional at this point.

She let him pulled her by the hand as he slowly brought her towards him. In no time, he had them both on the comfy matteress with soldat's back propped up against the headboard, while his arms found their place around Y/N's waist, cocooning her in between his legs.

It amazes her to think how comfortable she was, being this intimately close to him; when Bucky would've been too cautious to even approach her platonically.

So she decided rather than being constantly hesitant around the soldat, she thought that she might as well just enjoy the moment as it presented itself.

Y/N's exploring eyes stopped to the side of the bed when she saw a book next to the night lamp. She reached her hand as she leaned closer.

"Prince Caspian." She whispered to herself as her fingertips grazed across the title, "The Chronicles of Narnia, huh?"

It makes sense that Bucky would be interested to read this series, knowing his quirky yet undying brag about having the experience of reading The Hobbit back when it first came out.

Y/N couldn't help but to smile to herself, especially when her train of thoughts stopped at those memories of him.

She lifted the book towards the soldat, "What do you think, Soldat? Want me to read it to you?" She asked as the soldat rested his chin on her shoulder, peering at the deep blue, hard covered book.

He briefly hummed before replying, "Yes, please." The soldat loved the idea of being able to hear more of his darling's beautiful voice. It was his favourite thing in the whole world. Well, one of the things but surely all them were involving her.

Y/N settled herself as she leaned back against his sturdy chest. One of her legs were bent up towards her chest while the other was lazily thrown over his, spreading them as far as they could go.

The soldat placed light kisses on the back of her head all the way to the side of her neck, relishing at how soft her skin was and how good she smelled. The quiet of the room only enhanced the presence of her calming voice, luring him to close his eyes as he drowned himself the melody of it.

Minutes gone by and it was passing the half hour mark.

It wasn't that the soldat find the story boring or her voice drowsying, but he was feeling rather needy, almost greedy, to have more of Y/N to the point that he got slightly distracted.

She had been such a darling to him ever since he came home; fed him, letting him touch her, kiss her, pamper her, held her hand during those long lab tests, having her in his arms through the night and against his nightmare, and making him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

And yet, she didn't get anything in return.

His darling deserved to feel good and he wanted to give it to her so badly that he was getting distracted from the story that she was passionately reading for him.

Soldat's hands carefully explored her body, from the side of her waist then slowly down to her naked thighs. Too engrossed with the plot, she almost instinctively opened her legs wider for him. Though she never intended to do so, her actions surely were quite sinful.

He used the opportunity to glide his metal hand deeper into her inner thighs, lightly caressing up higher towards where her thighs meet, until the tip of it brushed over her core.

Now that's when she realized the situation, her head shoot up to face him. The book in her hand almost thrown to the side as she reached to grab his, gripping it tightly as she tried to pull him away.

Failing to stop him, she whispered "W-what are you doing?" She stuttered as she felt his fingers slide across her clothed pussy.

Soldat looked down at the smaller, "Wanna make you feel good, мое Родная (my darling)" he innocently whispered back as his dangerous fingers provoked her.

When her silence remained, the soldat lifted the corner of his eyebrow in curiosity. Was she hesitating? He sees it as an opportunity to coax her to his will.

He cooed softly when he explained, "You deserve it, darling. Deserve it so much. Please, let me?" He sounded so desperate when he begs like that.

It feels like her whole body was burning, his touch were igniting flames wherever he drags his fingers. She knew it was wrong to feel like this, but she couldn't help it.

Oh, how his fingers works wonders even with the thin fabric were blocking his access.

Y/N bit her lower lip as she looked down to her thighs. The way she was grabbing onto his hands as he moved around; it looked like she was guiding him to touch her more.

The soldat knew she was close to be tempted to submit, "I promise it'll feel good. So good." he almost growled in her ears as he saw patch of the dampness started to appear on the center her panties.

"Don't." she whispered quietly, but that only made the soldat to futher seduce her as he add more pressure on his middle finger.

She hesitated for a while before she slurred "D-don't stop." her head thrown back into his neck, finally giving in to his promise of pleasure.

Lust took over the soldat, "Gonna make you feel so good, Родная (darling). Promise gonna treat your pretty pussy right. Make her cum so hard." He whispered lovingly as his breath sends shivers down her spine.

The soldat groaned, dropping his head to her neck to press open mouthed kisses on her untainted skin as he slipped his hand into her panties.

"Already wet for me?" He chuckled, biting his lip before his long finger slid between her folds.

"Hmmm." she tried to suppressed her voice as his finger moved up and down so deliciously.

"Of course," He said with a smile. He went on to tease her sensitive clit with slow, torturous circles, which force her to close her eyes, biting down on her lip to suppress a shrill moan.

"Родная (darling)," the soldat cooed. "You can scream as loud as you want. Let me hear those pretty noises, yeah?"

Y/N thought to reply but her own breath hitches when that one finger that has been circling her hole finally dips in, proceeding to spread her open for more.

She moaned louder this time, "Soldat..." The movement was completely involuntary; when her hand latch on to hold his wrist as her thighs try to squeeze shut at the feeling of him pressing another finger into her wet stretching cunt.

But, of course he was quick to spread her legs back open, preventing her to shy away.

"p-please soldat, ahh." She mewled, scratching the metal of his arm.

The soldat nibbled on the shape of her ears as he hushed, "There, there darling. Open up for me." His two long, metal fingers thrusts and rubs the inside of her pulsating pussy, occasionally scissoring her cunt as he took her right hand into his fleshed one; intertwining her fingers with his.

Her other hand scrambled to dug into his thigh as she arched her back, grinding her hips down against his metal hand. The soldat smirked proudly at her reaction, moving his fingers a little faster, a little rougher. Just enough to make her whine and move against him in search of more stimulation.

She cried out as his thumb circled her clit, "Ahhh fuck" she moaned shamelessly, while his eyes followed each jerk of her body as if he was memorizing it all.

"Hmm, you're so wet, Родная (darling). So warm too." The soldat hissed as he felt his hand were soaking by the minute. The muffled sound of his thrusts against her wet heat filled the room.

He looked down to her hidden pussy; his hand covered by the panties she was wearing, "Look down baby, open your eyes and look down." he lured her with low groan.

Completely loss in bliss, she complied without asking any question. Both the soldat and Y/N was looking at the same sight, the same shape of his hand clinging tight to the fabric, barely hidden under the thin layer of her panties, moving up and down; in and out of her pussy.

Somehow, watching the way it moves made her closer to her orgasm.

In one swift move, the soldat lifted her slightly to pull the barrier off by the waistband. An animalistic groan rumbled from deep within his chest, when he was completely revealed to the sinful sight of her naked pussy.

So wet and full with his fingers.

The soldat teasingly entered a third finger into her, stretching her out so good that she felt tears prick her eyes. Y/N's head snapped forward along with a buck of her hips. "S-soldat,, ahhhh" Her whines grew louder than before and she felt the flame in her stomach growing yet it wasn’t enough.

"Look at you. Look how well you're taking me. My darling is such a good girl, isn't she?" The soldat sounds sickeningly sweet when he murmured in her ears.

He pressed his thumb harder against her swollen clit, rubbing hard and fast circles as he pumped his fingers knuckle deep in and out of her cunt, causing her to gasp from the sensation.

He twisted and curled his fingers around to find that delicious spot inside of her, giving that delicious friction as he fucked her open. The noises coming from her pussy were so lewd, so crude and it only spurred him on.

"Sounds so perfect, Родная (darling). These pretty noises from your lips up here." The soldat murmured as he kissed the corner of her lips, "and down here." his fingers pumped faster, curling over and over again, creating the lewd squelching sounds of her juices leaking out.

Almost seeing stars, Y/N moaned desperately, "Cummin',, so good, 'm cumming." Oh, how sweet does her moans sounded in the soldat's ears.

"Already, Родная (darling)?" he groaned as he felt her hole pulsated, "But you need more, little one." He persuaded her edge a little more; but with the way he was fucking into her weeping pussy, she certainly wasn't able handle it anymore.

She whined needily as she shook her head, "Wanna cum now, please soldat ohh god please please please." She begged deliriously.

The soldat hummed as he worked his fingers up her hole, "Oh darling, you don't need to beg for it. You're so precious, I'd give you anything." He mumbled against her cheek as he kisses her, "Now, cum for me. Let me see you wet my bed, Родная (darling). Go on, cum."

All words die in the back of her throat when a he cooed at her. She threw her head back as a squeak of whine dies in her mouth; eyes squeezing shut, her body tensing as the soldat makes sure that she rides out the high for as long as she should.

"That's it darling, cum for your soldat. give it to me,, aahhh" He motioned, forming an 'O' with his mouth as she clamp down on his fingers; with his wide eyes looking down at her exposed pussy. Her orgasm gushed and flowed out onto his hand, dripping on the sheet as she quietly cry out in pleasure.

"So pretty," he praised, as his fingers kept pumping slowly in and out of her pussy, "So gorgeous, cumming so hard for me," he grunts in her ears as her high begins to settle.

He pull out his fingers, leaving her feeling empty for the sudden lost of touch. But that didn't last long when he proposed something else.

"One more time Родная (darling), with me." He moaned he sunk his metal hand into his pants and pull out his aching cock. The soldat tugs himself in his palm, rubbing the wetness on his hand around his length before settling it between her throbbing cunt.

Y/N didn't manage to let our her protest when he intercepted her, "Won't put it in, darling. Just..." his words linger as he squeezed her plush thighs together, engulfing his warm cock between them, "...wanna snuggle in between your thighs, Куколка (little one)."

"So keep them pressed together, okay?" the brunnete coaxed as his hands took a hold on her,  "Will you do that for me?" The soldat asked sweetly.

She gave a small nod of affirmation, looking down at where the soldat's hands squishing both side of her thighs. The feeling of his length throbbing, wet with her slick, had her squeezing her thighs together more.

"That's my sweet girl. Promise you, it'll feel so good, darling." He let out a pleasurable groan as his hips jerked all the way forward, his skin meeting the back of her thighs while the head of his cock was peeking out from the other side.

With a squeeze of her hips in his hands, that will definitely leave bruises afterwards, he started to grind her into him. Back and forth, for the few experimental thrusts. And the moment her pretty little moans started to spill, he knew she needed more.

"More?" he moaned lowly, rocking his hips mindlessly.

Y/N limped back against his chest, whimpering sweetly for him as her needy little cunt drools messily all over her thighs and his cock; effortlessly making the thrust of his length between her thighs even easier.

If she was already so sensitve from him fingers before, now it's just oversimulating for her, "Hmm,, s-soldat,, that feels s-so good," she slurred, eyes rolling back.

"Yeah?" he gloated as he grunts, "Are you gonna cum again, darling? Come on, sweet one, I want to feel it." The soldat almost whimpered as he felt the thudding beat of her cunt on the stroke of his cock.

Y/N simply nodded, mouth falling open. His cock works over her sweet little pussy, nudging the sensitive bundle of nerve as he urged her to orgasm alongside his own.

He watched the way she drag her nails into the flesh of his thighs, "There she is, come on. Let it out, darling. That's it. Hmmm." His chest rumbled a deep groan. It was such a turned on for the soldat, to see the sight of him humping her legs faster until her slick finally wetting her thighs and his cock, making a mess everywhere.

Even if she has reached her high, his thrusts didn't flatter as his own orgasm was still at the edge. "Ahh,, darling,, please-- c-can't stop,," The upperside of his cock harshly rubbed between her sloppy folds, the feeling of the creamy mess between her thighs, making him fucked her faster.

The soldat whined needily into her neck as he drag her tightness back and forth. "So good, don't wanna stop." he squirmed as his voice hitched into a needy whimper, letting his head fall back to the headboard, his disheveled hair hanging by his face, some of it sticking onto his sweaty skin.

The room echoed with the several sinful sounds; his whimpers, her mewls, their skins slapping, the bed creaking, the wetness squelching.

It was such a dream for the soldat, especially when her folds spread around his fat cock every time he rolled his hips forward. The sight was beyond compelling, addictive to a certain extend.

"S-soldat,, please i'm,,hmmm,, sensitive." She can feel how thighs burned from the friction, and her slit abused with pleasure.

The soldat leaned into her until his hot breath blew across her neck, "Just a little more, Родная (darling)? Please? Wanna cum around your soft thighs, between your pretty pussy. You'll let me, right sweet one? You'll let me make a mess all over you? Paint you with my cum. You'll look so gorgeous, Родная (darling)"

His filthy thoughts started to spill out uncontrollably, as his body trembled in pure pleasure. His heaving chest rested on her small back when he whimpered, almost forcing her on her knees, pushing her down the mattress.

He wanted that so bad.

Just fuck her thighs and folds while she's on all fours, abusing her body for his pleasure and maybe slot the tip of his cock inside that tight cunt just before he cum, give that greedy little cunt a taste of his load, but he rather than that the soldat hold back on his thought, because truthfully he very much wanted to make a mess all over her right now.

His mouth sucking on her neck, leaving another one of his mark on her skin; one of many between those shades of purples and reds.

"Cumming for you, darling." He moaned loudly, eyes locked between her thighs, as his leaking cockhead occasionally peeks out. "Have so much cum for you,, gonna cream all over these thighs" He groaned, clenching his teeth as his cock throbs.

She clenched tighter as a unexpected orgasm were coming fast, letting out a desperate squeal as she reach her high. He growled at the feeling of her gushing pussy, fucking their orgasm into a higher level ecstacy.

The rolls of his hips were flattering into a slower and and sensual tempo, as both of them watched his cock; the way it pulsed and throbbed wildly, before white spurts of his hot cum started gushing from the little slit.

The soldat trembled through his orgasm, mouth falling open as he moaned lewdly at the sight of her skin being painted by his seemingly endless amount of cum.

Y/N panted heavily as her lips hanged open; failed words just at the tips of her tongue, unable to be formed properly. It didn't take long for the drowsiness to cloud her eyes, caused by the aftershock of the pleasure.

"There, there." The soldat cooed breathlessly in her ear, "So pretty, darling." Pampering the mark on her skin with gentle kisses, "So good for me." He mumbled as he languidly thrusts his cock, stroking the sides of her thighs, memorizing the sight of their wet mess.

Her body felt so good and satisfied, and the lid of her eyes slowly flutter into a longer close. She didn't hear much of his praises as he as laid her down, especially when his voice going in and out of her ears, as she was fighting through the temptation of slumber.

But, her body absolutely remembered how soft his touches on her skin, and the warm of the wet cloth swiping on the burn of her inner thighs, carefully over her swollen cunt.

"Love you, my precious darling." She couldn't make up what he was whispering under his breath. But she remembered the soldat pulling her close to his chest as he laid her on top of him, and the sweet kiss on her forehead before complete darkness engulf her sight.

"Your soldat loves you so much."

<< Part I || Part III >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Important note: I won't be doing taglist because I notice sometimes i can't tag y'all. Its fucking frustrating honestly, so I suggest you follow me and turn on the notification for new posts (If y'all think that I might spam, don't worry I won't. Because I solely use this account for my stories. I use different account for reblog. So every upcoming post will be the updates on my fic; either continuation or new fic.) I appreciate your cooperation guys!

A/N: Also drop some comments in the sections below or in reblog! It's lovely to hear from you ~

Taglist: @ghostofwinter @ansaturn @avocadotoasts-world @specialsnowflake-gabbi @biblophilefox82 @sunset90 @hereforfun22-blog @littlemiss-yeehaw @utterlynuts @melsunshine @jasminocano @maddieislost @wandabillywrites @happinessinthebeing @thriving-n-jiving @observantplum-blog @rebeccapineapple

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[back2bluesidex]

J-Hope Fic Recommendations (18+)

If you are already following me for quite some time then you should know that I am a massive masochist and I like to torture myself by reading and writing angsty stories. So, most of the stories that I recommended are angsty as well (might as well have sad endings). So please carefully read the warnings before proceeding. Have a happy reading.

And please don't expect much from me. There are several other rec lists far better than mine. The only motive I had behind creating this list to promote some of the stories, which I think are very underrated. especially angsty ones. These stories are beautifully written so.. I just wanted to let the authors know how phenomenal of a job they have done (As a writer myself I know how much this actually means). Thanks to these amazing writers and I am grateful that they decided to share their work here with us.

[Minors please stay away from my blog!]

Key: F - Fluff, A- Angst, S- Smut, Y- Yandere, *- Personal Favorite

Oneshots

1. Ash from his fire by @filmcrystal - A, implied S, cheating au

It will break your heart so please proceed with caution.

2. Forbidden Fruit by @deepdarkdelights - A, Y

This one deals with several triggering topics. Hence, read the warnings carefully. But I can say that you will love this twisted mafia Hoseok way too much!

3. Shadows by @borathae - A, exes au

One of the most underrated stories I have ever read! Yeah, it is very angsty and Hoseok is so cruel but... we all are masochist here. lmao!

4. Heaven sent by @aquagustd - A, F, S, f2l au

Sexy soccer player Hoseok is just another name for perfection.

5. Bound by @explicit-tae - S, kinda f2l

Talk abut BDSM! GOOOD Sweet Lord!!!

6. Jigsaw by @sunshinejunghoseokie - A *

I remembered crying after reading this one. So damn underrated that it physically hurts me!!

7. Delta Disorder by @bangtanintotheroom Y, S, Supernatural au

I don't usually read supernatural stuff but this demon Hoseok is way too sexy to skip!

8. Systems of Touch by @yeoldontknow - S, F, tiny A, S2l au

Beautifully written! The author used 100% of their capabilities to write this one. Perfectly drawn Professor Hoseok with a very attractive character of reader. Certainly a treat to read.

9. 2:00 AM by @likeastarstar - A, fuckbuddy Hoseok

Part of a series but can be read as a standalone. and Hoseok is a dick in this.

10. Love Quarrels by @mirahuyooo - A, F, mafia au

A cold yet soft mafia husband Hoseok chases behind his angry wife... could there be anything better than that?

11. The Hook Up ft. JK by @minisugakoobies - S

A little bit of a triangle.. but not love? if that makes sense.

12. Entelechy by @drmflm - suggestive (I believe)

Can't call this one angst and neither is this about Hoseok (he is there, don't worry). This one is more about the reader and her growth and it's beautiful.

13. Orgasms on the verge of a nervous breakdown by @sluttyandere - S, Y *

This is very dark and quite triggering, so please don't read unless you can handle those stuff.

14. For the night by @aseaofyoongi - A, S

I cried. that's all.

15. We Shouldn't by @beahae - S **

Hands down to one of my most favourite Hoseok smuts ever!!! This one has a Jimin follow-up so make sure to read that too.

16. Real or not real by @nmjoo-n - A, S, F **

Again one of the most exquisite Hoseok fics I have ever read!

17. Checkmate by @sunshinejoon - A, S

This was supposed to have a sequel but it is perfect regardless.

18. Do I wanna know - @yoongiphoria - A, f2? ****

Now, MJ knows how much I love this one. I often read this story and I never ever get bored of it! I love this to the core and you should too!

19. Scrap - @silv3rswirls - A, Y, S

Dark and sexy. Read the warnings carefully please.

20. It's a Promise by @sahmfanficbts - S, A, Arranged marriage au

Just read it.

21. Three by @hamsterclaw - S

Again.. VERY UNDERRATED!

22. Wonderwall by @kiara-ish - A with an open ending

Might not be for the faint hearted.

23. Infatuated by @bangtanfancamp - F

If you like high school love au then this one is for you.

24. Constellations of You by @persphonesorchid - S, F, established relationship au

This is so domestic that my heart almost exploded while reading!!

25. Burning flames or paradise by @/yoongiphoria - A, tiny f ****

MJ does magic.... that's all I can say.

26. Alone again by @archivedkookie - A, F

I loooove these kinds of stories. Just the right amount of despair with the right amount of hope... beautiful.

27. Feeling Good by @bonvoyagenoona - A, S

Everything I write about this will fall short.. so I will just shut up and let you enjoy the goodness.

28. Distracted by @dilfhoseokie - S

Ahem..

29. Drink Champaign in my airplane by @/bangtanintotheroom - F, S, F2l

Perfectly embodies a rich hot CEO friend Hoseok... a fun read.

30. Keynote by @missgeniality - S **********

MY MOST FAVORITE HOSEOK ONESHOT TO EXIST IN THE PLANET. yeah.. (this has a follow-up but I like this one better)

Series

The thing is that I don't usually read series. I just don't have that patience. So this list is pretty small and forgive me for that.

1. Transference by @dark-muse-iris - A, S, F, S2l *********************

[Completed]

I wasn't the same after reading this. I can't talk about this trantric therapist Hoseok, 'cause I will never shut up if I start.

2. Kanalia by @xjoonchildx - A, S, f (?) *********************

[Ongoing]

Honestly, who isn't a sucker for Lord Jung? You must be sick if you are not. (On a side note.. Kanalia is keeping me alive from jumping off trains on tough days)

3. Guarded by @/xjoonchildx - A, S, F, S2l

[Completed]

Mafia Hoseok with dogtags. I think that's enough of an introduction.

If you want to read the Hoseok stories I write, you can checkout my Masterlist.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Unfamiliar feeling

PAIRING | Bucky Barnes x Nurse!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.7K

SUMMARY | You're the latest addition to the nurse team at the Compound, and you're assigned to take care of a certain grumpy super soldier and his wounds. You're treating him very gently and he's not used to this, but he welcomes the unfamiliar feeling nevertheless.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Light swearing.

Likes and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Read on AO3

''Y/n, some Avengers are coming in with serious injuries today, and you're assigned to treat Sergeant James Barnes. I will let you know beforehand, he can be a real dickhead when it comes to being treated, he usually doesn't want any help. Try your hardest to get him some help, otherwise, we just can't treat him anymore,'' is what your supervisor tells you. Even though you've been a nurse for nearly 15 years, you recently started your job as a nurse at the Avengers Compound since moving to New York. You've decided to trade in the California sun for the business of a city like New York, finally fulfilling your lifelong dream.

''Okay, I'll take good care of him!'' you say with your usual cheery voice and a fresh batch of enthusiasm, and your face is pretty much permanently supporting a smile. This is your first time treating an Avenger, up to this point you've only treated other agents, and the injuries weren't too severe so far. ''At what time will he arrive?'' you ask and your supervisor tells you he will be in room 7 in about 10 minutes, so you go and get the room ready for his arrival, mostly checking if all your supplies and instruments are there and ready to go, which they are. You tie your apron around your waist and put on a face mask as well as rubber gloves right before Bucky gets wheeled into the room.

You see him and quickly assess any visible wounds, which there are plenty of, they must have gone on a rough mission. ''Good afternoon Sergeant Barnes, my name is Y/N and I will be taking care of you today!'' you say and the enthusiasm is practically dripping off of your voice, making Bucky's heart skip a beat, he wasn't used to someone like you treating him. He just grunted in response, not able to talk because of a nasty wound on his face and jaw. ''It appears you had quite the rough mission, but you're still alive and that's what's most important right now,'' you tell him and you start looking him over gently.

''To do a full examination of your wounds, I do unfortunately need to take off your clothes. Shall I give you some more privacy by closing all the blinds? It will just be me in here with you, but if you're more comfortable with it I can find a male nurse to look you over,'' you offer and he points a finger at you, which you take that he is okay with you looking him over. He also gives you a thumbs up when you ask him if he wants some more privacy, he isn't used to someone asking him this, caring about his privacy - he hasn't had any for so long he doesn't know how to act in all honesty.

''First, I would like to examine your face, that appears to be a pretty nasty wound,'' you tell him, just looking at it. ''Can I touch your face, Sergeant? That way I can clean it with a bit of alcohol, which is probably going to sting pretty bad. I think we won't need to stitch it up, we could probably get away with some butterfly bandages,'' you tell him softly, not talking too fast to make sure he can follow what you're saying. He softly nods and you grab your tray with the necessary supplies to clean and bandage his face. ''Is it okay if I put this tray on your lap for easy access? If not, I can put it on the bed,'' you ask and he shakes his head, notifying me he's not comfortable with it.

''That's no problem, Sergeant, I will put it on the cart next to your bed so I can still reach everything I need. Thank you for being honest with me, it is already uncomfortable enough to be here,'' you say with a soft voice, and Bucky isn't sure why you're so gentle with him, but he is very glad that you are. This feeling is strange to him, and it almost makes him tear up a little, it has been so long since anybody asked him for permission to touch him, it sends a warm feeling through his veins, warming him up from the inside. You clean his face with the alcohol and he flinches at the feeling, so you immediately retreat and stop your actions, until he's ready to go on.

When he's all cleaned up, you softly apply a few butterfly bandages, he only needed 5 so that's not too bad. ''Alright, your face is all done, and I have to say, I have never seen anyone look this good with 5 bandages on their face!'' you say and he blushes, which makes you chuckle. ''Next, I would like to do an upper body exam, meaning I have to check your chest, stomach, arms, shoulders, and back for any injuries. I need you to take off your tactical gear for me to reach those places. Is that okay?'' you ask, and after a short moment of contemplation, Bucky softly nods, helping himself out of his tactical gear. You softly put it on the counter behind you, so he can take it when he's done.

There are multiple wounds on his chest, but they don't appear to be as bad as the one on his face. ''I have to clean the wounds on your chest, the same way I cleaned the ones on your face. Is that okay with you?'' you ask and he nods again, he is slowly getting used to being touched by you, it almost feels like he's getting touched by an angel. All he can think about is how he would always like to be treated by you from this day forward. You give him the power to move on when he's ready, letting him take everything at his own pace. ''Thank you,'' he says with a deep voice, which honestly takes you by surprise, but you don't show it. ''For being so gentle,'' he finishes his sentence.

''It's okay, Sergeant. I get that it's not fun to be treated like this when you're at your most vulnerable. I try to make you feel as comfortable as possible, and we can go at your own pace,'' you tell him while continuing to clean the wounds on his chest. His face has softened a lot now, the grumpy scowl on his face now making a place for a bit of a relaxed expression. At first, Bucky was uncomfortable with you seeing his arm, he still wasn't entirely comfortable with it himself, but he got over that pretty quickly when he took his shirt off, you didn't comment on it, look at it weird, or even acknowledged it at all. Of course, you saw his prosthetic, but you've seen everything by now, so it didn't faze you in the slightest.

''Can you please lift your left arm so I can check your side and back for injuries?'' you ask and he does it immediately, the feeling he had at first being completely washed away now, he enjoyed you being so gentle, he missed this feeling and he welcomed it with every fiber in his being. ''You're looking good on this side, can you lift your right arm so I can do the same on the other side?'' you ask as you walk around the bed, but again no injuries. ''Also looking good!'' you say with a cheer in your voice. ''Do you feel comfortable with removing your shoes and tactical pants so I can take a look at your legs? You can keep your underwear on, I won't need to examine there unless you are experiencing pain in those areas,'' you tell him.

''Yeah, it's okay,'' he says this time, even giving you a small smile as he permits you. He quickly takes off his boots and pants and sits back down so you can examine them. Aside from some bruised, you appear to be good. Is there a specific place you need me to check out a little closer?'' you ask and Bucky shakes his head, he's feeling a lot better already, the super soldier serum also helping him heal faster than usual. ''Okay, then we're all done here for today!'' you say as you take off your gloves and face mask, showing him your big smile now. Bucky can't help but gasp softly when you smile at him, it's the most beautiful smile he has seen in decades.

''You can get dressed while I clean up, so we can discuss your wound care afterward,'' you tell him and he does so. You explain how he can take care of his wounds, and if there's any discomfort he can always come back. ''Again, thank you so much for being so gentle,'' Bucky said, ''It means the world,'' he says before getting up and walking towards the door. ''Sergeant?'' you ask, ''You can call me Bucky, doll'' he says and you blush immediately. ''Bucky? I'm glad I could make you feel comfortable. I'll be honest, I was told about your situation beforehand and I get it, it's nice to get a little bit of power back in a situation where you're practically helpless. It was my pleasure to take care of you today,'' you say and flash him another smile before he gave you a smirk back and walked out the door.

He felt like he was walking on a cloud, not having felt so well taken care of in so long. For nearly 70 years HYDRA just did as they pleased, so it did feel good to finally take a little piece of his dignity back. ''How did it go?'' Steve asks when he returns to the kitchen, where Steve was getting his after-mission snack ready. ''Actually, I think I have a new favorite nurse. She took great care of me, explained everything she was going to do, and asking permission along the way. It honestly felt good to have a bit of control about this,'' he said with a smile, and Steve completely understood. ''I'm glad to hear it, Buck,'' he said as he offered him half of his snack, knowing he was also very hungry.

[shadowdaddies]

can i please request one with cassian x reader where reader is pregnant but doesn’t know and is being extra clingy to cassian. literally he’s going up to drink some water and she’s going with him or he’s training and she’s sitting next to him waiting for him to finish. And at meetings she’s sitting in his lap and holds him close. everyone wonders why that is bc reader doesn’t usually like pda. the bond knows before them that she’s pregnant and she subconsciously wants to stay close to her mate to feel protected. they eventually find out after feyre recognizes the signs she also had and everyone are so happy for them, cassians extra possessiveness and protective instincts go crazyyyy😍🧎‍♀️

Okay so I'm combining this with this other Cassian x pregnant!reader request because I like how the stories go together:

So the first part of the story is fluffy, reader finding out she's pregnant. I'll mark with an * in the story for when it shifts from fluff to the action-packed part so you can decide for yourselves if you want to just enjoy the fluff or read the whole thing (I like the whole thing, I love how this turned out)

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone mortal combat while pregnant

Protect Our Family

Cassian x Reader

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of sex, not proofread

Overwhelmed by fatigue, you were nauseous and achy as you had been on and off for several weeks now. It felt as if you had a cold and your cycle at the same time, but you weren’t due for your cycle for another six weeks. You weren’t sure what had you feeling so off balance lately, but you were overcome with anxiety anytime you were apart from Cassian. 

From the moment you woke up in the morning, you could feel the bond urging you to find your mate. It was different from the frenzy when you first accepted the bond; it was a sense of security you craved, one that was never sated until you felt Cassian’s comforting presence. One day, you joined Cassian to go to the River House for a meeting with Rhys about the Illyrian camps. The males were in the office while you talked with Feyre, the two of you playing with Nyx in the living room. 

They weren’t long into the meeting when you started feeling panicked again, that draw to find Cassian overwhelming your senses. Feyre immediately sensed your stress. “Are you feeling alright? You look like you’re going to be sick,” she questioned you with a concerned look. Clutching your hand to your chest, you took a deep breath. “I don’t know, Feyre. I’ve been feeling so sick lately, like I’m on my cycle except that I know I’m not. And I know this sounds ridiculous, but I have this new instinct that I have to be near Cassian for safety. I don’t know, I think I need to see Madja.” 

You looked over to Feyre, bracing yourself for the incredulous look you were sure to receive, but instead found her teary eyed, a soft smile on her face as she shifted her glance from your face, to your stomach, and then to where Nyx was playing with his toys. Frozen in place as realization dawned on you, you simply gaped at Feyre, who turned back to you and nodded reassuringly. “I had all the same signs early in my pregnancy with Nyx. The bond is pushing you to be around your mate to protect your baby.” 

Hearing the words “your baby” out loud brought both you and Feyre to tears of joy as you stood to hug her. As if the recognition of the pregnancy triggered it, your scent changed. There was no denying it now, you and Cassian were going to have a child. You laughed through your tears as you watched Nyx run up to Feyre, trying to grasp how that would be you soon enough. Cassian and Rhys came out of the office at the sound, concern on their features as they saw your and Feyre’s tears, before they scented you. 

You turned to Cassian, your broad smile affirming that they were in fact cries of joy as you nodded to him, “you’re going to be a dad.” An stunning wave of love flowed to you through the bond as you and Cassian ran to embrace each other. A tear rolled down Cassian’s cheek as he whispered in awe, “we’re going to have a baby.”

*

The moment faded quickly as Cassian looked to Rhys with a grim expression on his face. Cass growled out, “I’m not leaving her here.” You looked frantically between the two males, trying to decipher what Cassian meant as you took in Rhys’s conflicted expression. 

“What do you mean, leave me here, Cass?” you breathed out. Cassian looked down at you with a fierce expression before kissing the top of your head. “I need to go to Windhaven. There’s suspicions that Koschei’s spies have infiltrated the camps and Azriel believes they’re planning an attack soon.” Looking between you and Rhys, Cassian continued, “I can’t leave the soldiers during a time like this, but I’m not leaving you and our child right now.” 

The weight of an anvil fell on your chest as you registered the gravity of the situation. Before another tear could fall from your eyes, Feyre stepped forward. “What if we all went up to the camps?” She squeezed your hand as she looked to you, “I will leave Nyx here with Elain, but keep you company up at the cabin, so we can stay close to Cassian without being in harm’s way at Windhaven.” No one was excited about the idea, but it was the best option you had.

You and Cassian stayed awake all night, making love as you celebrated the life you would soon be bringing into the world, but come dawn, you were filled with dread at the thought of your mate being in danger and away from your child. The four of you left for the camps early in the morning, Cassian and Rhys helping you and Feyre get settled into the cabin before they left to meet Azriel at Windhaven. It took everything in you to deny your instincts to follow Cass to the camp, but you felt peace knowing that Rhys was with him, and they would not be far in the event of trouble, which Rhys assured you was highly unlikely. 

You held back your tears as Cassian begrudgingly winnowed away with Rhysand, and settled into the couch with Feyre. You had been relaxing on the couch for awhile, Feyre giving you advice on your pregnancy while you two sipped on tea, when Feyre’s eyes turned that glazed look that let you know she was communicating mind-to-mind with Rhys. She kept her composure impressively; if you didn’t know her so well, you wouldn’t have known the way her eyes widened and the tick in her jaw was her tell. Something was wrong.

You jolted up from the couch, prepared to find and protect your mate when Feyre gently grabbed your arm, drawing you back to your surroundings. She spoke to you as one might a startled animal, “Rhysand was just informing me that there is an attack at the camp. It’s a small group, though, and the Illyrian soldiers far outnumber Koschei’s party. They can handle this.” Despite every bone in your body telling you to do otherwise, you nodded as you sat back down on the couch. Feyre gave your shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll go fix us some food in kitchen.” 

You tried to relax on the couch, but that instinct from before was back. You needed to be with Cassian. You needed your family together. You padded into the kitchen where Feyre was cooking, catching her in a tense position over the stove as she seemed to be speaking to Rhys again. Before she could even turn to address you, you had winnowed to Windhaven.

Chaos raged throughout the camp. At every turn, you witnessed a battle or a body. Without a second thought, you let your protective instincts for your family take over, grabbing a sword from the ground as you raced through the camp in search of Cassian. Fortunately, the Illyrian warriors recognized you as their General’s mate, and worked with you as you fought off soldier after soldier in Koschei’s army. 

A soldier cornered you in front of a tent, taunting you. “I can smell that little Illyrian brute inside of you. What a favor I’ll bring to the world to rid-“ His threat was cut off by an obsidian knife through his throat. Blood splattered as Azriel yanked truth-teller out of the male’s throat, throwing his body to the ground. Before you could explain what you were doing there, Azriel pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he murmured, “congratulations, sister.” 

You only had a moment to be shocked by Azriel’s uncharacteristic affection before two more males approached you, and you two were thrust into the throws of battle once more. Adrenaline surging through you, it felt as though a mere second had passed from when you’d arrived to now, as you stopped to look around at the bodies that littered the ground, the battle seemingly over.

You turned to see Azriel, who you’d been fighting along side, taking deep breaths as he came down from his own adrenaline rush. It was then he looked at you with a bewildered expression, registering what you had just done. He came over to you, frantically searching for any injuries as he tried to keep his calm. “What were you thinking? Cassian is going to lose his shit. You went into battle pregnant!” Az said, almost more to himself as you both tried to comprehend all that had transpired.

It was then that you caught sight of your mate further across the camp, sprinting towards him without a second thought. Cassian did a double-take as he saw you running to him, frozen in shock as you felt his fear through the bond. You had no time to feel guilt as you threw yourself into his arms, hugging him as though he might disappear if you let go. When you finally pulled apart enough to look him in the eyes, you were taken aback by his intense gaze. “Please don’t be angry. I couldn’t live with myself if I knew something happened to you, Cass. I need you,” grabbing his hand and holding it against your stomach, you emphasized, “we need you. We are a family, and I will always come for you.” 

Cassian leaned down to kiss you deeply before pulling away to whisper, “I love you. But you are pregnant, and I will always be the one to protect us. I am-“ 

Before he could finish his sentence, a figure approaching behind Cassian caught your attention. In the blink of an eye, you drew a throwing knife from his belt, throwing it into the chest of the soldier just before he could thrust his sword into Cassian. Cass whipped around to see the soldier on the ground before turning back to see you cocking an eyebrow at him. “WE protect this family.”

[r6shippingdelivery]

There’s been a lot of talk about AO3 and censorship lately, due to one of the candidates to the OTW board. And I realised I have very strong Opinions:tm: about censorship and the freedom AO3 stands for.

Censorship is not a solution. It doesn’t work and it’s not even easily agreed upon where the line should be drawn. What some people might deem as immoral or reprehensible is not the same others will consider so. For example, you and me can agree that sexual stories about minors turn our stomach, yet other people would also include LGBT+ content there, even the sfw ones, and others might decide that any sexual content at all is immoral. So, how do we agree about what to ban, when nothing of it is even illegal?

because let’s be honest, it’s all fiction. As in, not real. Things like incest, rape and pedophilia are illegal irl, but not in fiction. Cause they’re not harming anyone. Really. You can find it disgusting, I certainly do, but I also recognize no person, no actual human, is harmed in the making of those stories. Because they’re made up and about made up characters. I won’t seek it out, and if I see someone making that kind of content I will most probably avoid them/block them (without harassing them), but they have the right to create any kind of fiction they want.

It always baffles me how readily understood that is when it comes to murder and violence in fiction. Nobody thinks that someone who writers murder mysteries or procedural shows really wants to go out and kill people. However, as soon as it’s about sex, people are up in arms ready to believe that those make believe scenarios are an indicative of someone’s real desires. Why is that? And since we’re on the topic of double standards: why are people clutching their pearls about fanfic, but literature gets a free pass, more or less? You go into a library and you’ll find lots of books with shocking and distasteful topics, including those that contain pedophilic content (like Lolita, to put a famous example), incest (Game of Thrones, among many others), rape, murder, etc. But they want me to believe that fanfic, the medium with severely impaired social acceptance and magnitudes smaller reach, is the actual problem that will “normalize” those ideas? Nah fam, I smell a moral panic, and people finding fanfic writers easier to bully into submission. Because this is all about controlling what forms of creative expression are deemed acceptable. Fanfic IS a form of art, popular art if you will, but still art. And by virtue of how AO3 is designed, it’s ridiculously easy to never see the kind of stories that you find objectionable.

Tags are a wonderful thing. I can specify what I want and what I don’t want in my story results when searching! Tags are the author being responsible and giving due warning. Especially the “dead dove: do not eat” tag, it lets you know that the content of the story will have questionable content, proceed at your own risk or keep scrolling. Same as the “chose to not use archive warnings” that one is a warning in itself that the story might contain triggering/upsetting content, and it’s the prerogative of each reader to decide whether they’re comfortable continuing reading or not. Ultimately, it’s all about taking responsibility for one’s decisions. People who are in favor of censorship in AO3 either don’t know how to control and curate what materials they access, or feel entitled to everyone else taking their morals into account instead of taking responsibility for their own experience in the archive.

None of the stories on AO3 is illegal. Fictional stories are not illegal, not even those dealing with unsavory topics. The archive makes people agree to continue reading whenever you click on a story with a certain rating (or without any rating at all, just in case!), so the reader is giving their consent to continue reading, they’re making an informed choice. Same as with the tags. They’re there, they’re a warning. If someone reads the tags, finds them displeasing and still continues reading, that’s on them. If I find a story with tags about rape/non-con, for example, I keep scrolling. Cause I know I will find the story displeasing and upsetting. The people clutching their pearls and going “but think of the children!” are, mostly, people who refuse that responsibility and ask the world to accommodate them and their morality. And then throw around words like pedohilia and accusations of “kiddie porn” careleslly, watering down the seriousness of such accusations. No, an explicit fanfic of twin, underage siblings going at it is not CSA. Cause there’s no real children involved in it. It might be disgusting for a lot of people (me included), understandably, but you can 100% avoid reading it and interacting with the people who write those. 

Finally, let’s not forget the recent history of fandom spaces, shall we? LiveJournal and Fanfiction.net both had purges of content, after some campaigns for censorship gained traction and popularity. So now everything relating to certain topics is eliminated! Well, except that also includes communities of support for survivors of sexual abuse (it happened in LJ). Well, except that the people pressuring for censorship weren’t happy with the gay smut either, so a lot of LGBT related stuff is now also gone! (happened both in LJ and ff.net). Except, in some countries anything sexual at all, is frowned upon, so why not ban that too? Censorship supporters will always move the goalposts, forever shifting their aim whenever they accomplish something. Because it’s easier and more comfortable to make others conform to their standards than accepting some artistic expressions will be uncomfortable to some people. And trust me, none of them will care if the dark fic in question was written by a survivor of similar experiences trying to cope with their trauma or raise awareness, or if it was done simply for titillation or to safely explore different scenarios in fiction. And the topics that were banned in those websites didn’t disappear at all, they just weren’t properly warned for/detailed in the summaries, so anyone could stumblre upon them by accident. The complete opposite of what happens in AO3.

AO3 was created by people who lived through those censorship events in different fandom spaces, as a response to it. To seeing whole communities and swathes of fan content being unceremoniously deleted overnight. AO3 is an archive and an online library, not a social media platform. It’s a safe haven for anyone to host their fan creations, but that doesn’t mean it’s a safe space as people understand the term in other platforms. In AO3 you make your safe space by using the tags. Because that is the only real way we can have a safe haven for EVERYONE. 

The thing about freedom of speech is that sometimes, you have to defend things you dislike (that, I repeat, are legal in this case), because experience has shown time and time again that as soon as you give an inch to the censors, they take more and more. And today they’re up in arms about “pedophilic fanfics”, but once that is done? It might be all nsfw content, it might be trans related content, it might be something else. But it will happen. 

[treasureyourfire]

~ Your Fairytale Adventure Begins ~ ~ Choose Your Path ~

1 2 3 Reminder: * Trigger warning: All three readings have heaviness in them... 💔❤️‍🩹 I send everyone the supporting energies and wish all the best to reach a happy ending at the end of their struggles. * These are not gender-specific readings, in the stories I'll use They/Them pronouns. * These are collective readings for entertaintment. * I am not a professional reader and readings that I do are a part of my learning process. * The tarot can provide guidance, but you manage your own life according to your free will. Feel free to keep what resonates, and let go of what doesn't.~ * (English is not my mother language, sorry for the mistakes.)

* How is their life like a fairytale: Four of Cups, Knight of Swords, (the lowest card in the deck: Ace of Swords) * What magical qualities do they possess that can help them on their journey: Three of Wands * What obstacles do they need to overcome to achieve they fairytale ending: Reversed Sun, Reversed Chariot, Reversed Nine of Wands * What steps can they take to manifest their happily ever after: Tower, King of Cups

Over the mountain, over the valley, there once lived a human sitting in the shade of a tree. This human silently reflected on and taking stock of their life of that time. They were not satisfied. Disappointment and a sense of lack gnawed at them, and although they longed for something to fill this void, so that they could feel safe in their heart, they no longer believed in the opportunities offered to them with good intentions, promising improvement and happiness. Or maybe, even though they were offered in vain, they didn't see them behind the misty veil of their sorrow.

During their contemplation, suddenly, like some heavenly spark, an enlightening thought lit up in their mind. They were struck by an inspiration that spurred them to immediate action. They made their decision quickly. They decided to hit the road, arming themself for the struggles ahead. They was ready to change their destiny. Determined, unwavering, fearless, they galloped forward on the back of their fast horse, keeping their eyes fixed on their goal.

It was the beginning of a new chapter. Their enthusiasm and conscientious attitude helped them reach this milestone in their life. They planned their journey with foresight and awareness, preparing for possible obstacles. They looked to the future confidently. Full of hope, they embarked on this journey with commitment. The distance called them. They longed for a better world and were open to new experiences. They wanted to develop and grow, so that they could safely stand on their own feet and be a support for others besides themself. They had the opportunity to find companions who in return support them, inspire them, and can be of mutual help to each other during their journeys. The child in their heart searched the source of happiness, but in order to find it, they had to face several obstacles. Temporary setbacks dampened their enthusiasm. Willingly or unwillingly, perhaps they attracted the attention of others too much. Curious looks followed their actions;

"Can they rise to the task they have undertaken?" "Will they be able to do it?" Will they succeed or fail?” "Will their Sun ever shine?"

There were times when their momentum broke. They had to think about the direction to go next. They needed to take responsibility for themself and take back control. Perhaps, in the past, they were guided by noble intentions, but perhaps they did not follow the path their soul desired. They had to be honest with themself. They had to listen to their own inner voice, what they really wanted. They had to find their guiding star, which would bring them light in the darkness, and follow it with determination.

But what made it difficult for them was that they were forced to defend themself while searching for the star, and it was difficult for them to let go of this defensive state. It was like everyone was an enemy. They got into a situation where they thought about giving up because of the overburden. Up until now, they had barricaded themself from real or perceived danger for their own protection, but the constant readiness and persistent struggle to protect what they had gained had exhausted them. It was time for them to rest and gather their strength before committing to the next step. Maybe now it is necessary to accept help, accept the support of others, perhaps consider and change their standpoint.

Finally, the time for change was come.

They need to realise what is still present in their life that no longer serves their good. A drastic transformation must take place, all external obstacles or internal barriers must come down. It is necessary to break with habits or beliefs that hold back and limit their development and the achievement of their desired goals, so that they can create a truer, more authentic life for themself, in which their emotions can be fulfilled. The world has shaken around them, but they can use this dramatic change to their advantage. After the destruction, they may be given the opportunity to lay new foundations. A serious, difficult path may lie ahead, but after dealing with the old order and way of thinking, liberation and a fresh start can come, they can create their own kingdom, and achieve the emotional balance and stability that they wanted from the beginning of their journey. For a fresh start and a happy ending, they will need their diplomatic skills, their empathy, their devoted, service-minded character. If they follow their true path, in the future they will be able to maturely and wisely navigate in the deep, rich world of their emotions and become the warm-hearted leader of their empire.

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* How is their life like a fairytale: Hierophant, Ten of Swords * What magical qualities do they possess that can help them on their journey: Seven of Cups * What obstacles do they need to overcome to achieve they fairytale ending: Wheel of Fortune, The Moon, Page of Swords, Nine of Swords * What steps can they take to manifest their happily ever after: Three of Wands, Reversed Two of Pentacles

Once upon a time, there once lived a human who once felt like a respected member of a community. They respected its traditions, values ​​and system. They felt safe, they had unconditional trust in those who surrounded them. They believed that this trust, this devotion was mutual between them and the group. In this unity, they felt that they had found something important, not only in the outside world, but also in themself.

But their world, in which they believed unshakably until then, suddenly completely collapsed around them. Life or perhaps their trusted companions betrayed them cruelly, inflicting deep wounds on them that forced them to the ground. They couldn't even move because of the pain. Disappointment, failure, despair consumed all their strength. They saw their situation futureless and hopeless. They needed rest, they needed to gather strength. They had to recover and then try to stand up again so that a new dawn could come in their life. They survived the disaster, but one of the most difficult stages of recovery must have been accepting this severe defeat in order to move on with their life... Rethinking they principles, they had to become open to this life-changing mutuation, adapt to their new situation and its challenges. They had to seize the new opportunities and use this change to their advantage in order to grow and develop.

During the journey ahead of them, their developed sense of reality will be great help for them. They have a very good sense that when they come to a crossroads, they make the right decision for their situation. They will need this talent when the wheel of their destiny leads them to the realm of the Moon, where everything is uncertain in the semidarkness, where terrifying creatures try to distract them from their path. They were destined for more than what they had so far, but in order for this significant change to occur, they had to be patient and open to the unknown.

In this unknown, there would be the chance to face their greatest fears, when they had to listen to their intuitions, their own inner guidance, and would also need an objective examination of their situation in order to overcome them and move persistently forward. They cannot allow themself to be deceived and diverted by the illusion conjured up around them, be it a frightening nightmare or a seductive vision that encourages them to chase unreal dreams.

With their truth-seeking sword, they must cut through the fog of visions and nightmares in order to clearly see who they are, where they are and where they are really going. Their struggle can take a toll on them. It can be a stressful time for them, with anxiety and sleepless nights. In exchange for their freedom, they may have to break the silence, make their voice heard, it is even worth asking for help from someone who has solid knowledge to navigate this swampy realm, who will help them clear their mind of toxic thoughts and set them on a path to find their way out of the oppressive darkness to the land of Peace and Understanding.

They were on the verge of a major breakthrough and transformation. The final decision awaited them. Whether they embark on this difficult journey alone or with support, it is crucial to thoroughly prepare for it, for the difficulties that may arise, and consciously plan their every step in advance, building a strategy. It is important to commit to their goal, but above all to themself.

In addition to preparation, it is also important to strive for balance and take care of both their physical, emotional and mental needs. Success will require juggling with different responsibilities and priorities, but remembering to rest and relax when they need it can prevent them from burning out and sapping their energy.

Although the idyllic, happy picture of the future may still seem distant to them, if they make the decision to go for it and persistently move ahead, the desired harmony and happiness can return to their life again.

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* How is their life like a fairytale: Ace of Pentacles, Six of Wands, King of Swords, Nine of Pentacles * What magical qualities do they possess that can help them on their journey: Queen of Swords, Eight of Wands * What obstacles do they need to overcome to achieve they fairytale ending: Five of Cups, Five of Swords * What steps can they take to manifest their happily ever after: Nine of Swords

Far far away, there once lived a pointful, sharp-witted human, who was given the opportunity to create a more fruitful and richer life for themself in the earthly world. This offer was a new beginning to build a durable, secure foundation for their future. They lived up to the invitation, entered the race bravely, and finally won. They proudly accepted their prize and took their rightful place in the empire. They became an intelligent, trustworthy leader who treated their companions fairly and addressed them with honest, clear words. They paid attention to always staying on the ground of reality, consciously handling and creating with their intellectual abilities. Their work has paid off. They created the abundance for themself what they could finally enjoy. They were independent and self-confident.

Their high-flying thoughts, ideas and clairvoyance were always helpful and they used them to advantage in difficult situations. They were understanding with others and helped those who needed advice. In return for their honesty and straightness, they expected the same from their companions. They did not lack fighting spirit, they resolutely defended what was important to them, carried out what they had planned, and stuck to their ideas.

But there are events in life when, unfortunately, no matter how much we want to, we cannot win. Such a painful shock or serious injustice or humiliation befell this person. They felt like they had failed. In the end they secluded to rest after the hard fight, to mourn the loss.

However, when we close ourselves off like this, we don't always see the good in our lives, we don't believe that our fate can change for the better, we can sink into the role of victim. We are filled with sadness and hopelessness. We can get stuck in the belief and emotional world that we are "losers", so we have a hard time realizing that we are still capable of joy and success. Once if they process and are able to let go of what happened, they will get back on their feet to leave behind the heavy grayness and start again towards a happier future.

The beginning of a big change came in their life. In this harrowing period, it is crucial to nourish their body as well as their soul and mental health and take the right quantity and quality of rest. For this, they may have to seek outside help to overcome the obstacles that their own mind has set up.

In addition to rest, engaging in activities that relieve their inner anxiety can help to them to find their way out of the oppressive darkness. It can be any creative, self-expressive activity, where they can put their thoughts into shape, express their feelings, or a form of exercise that suits them and relieves the accumulated inner tension. The goal is recovery and healing, rebuilding the shaken self-confidence.

Walking in nature, gardening, anything that brings peace to their soul can help. It may also happen that they allow a new science into their life, which arouses their interest and brings the zest for life again back to them.

If they learn to move on and let go, if they take care of themself, if they allow their imagination to soar again, if they rekindle the warrior fire in their soul, they can begin to heal and find their way back to the path of happiness.

[winterarmyy]

Promise Me | Part III

When he was sent out for war, Bucky made a promise to his lover that might just last through several lifetimes.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)

Words: 4.2k++

Pairing: 40s!bucky / eventually tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: angst but happy ending. The anticipation, the hesitation, yup it was real in this one. Not enough dialogue in my opinion but meh my brain was not braining. Bucky's scene before their official reunion.

P/S: Yeay, it's a wrap. Sorry for the delay guys. I'm still sick but feeling better, so that's a good news! This is the final part if the mini series, I hope you enjoy!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Louisiana, 2024 – New beginning

War after war, from one fight into another, Bucky finally had the chance to catch a breath for himself. With the flagsmashers gone and Sam being the new Captain America just as Steve envisioned, there was a moment of peace for Bucky's tortured soul to finally rest.

He sat at the deck area of Sam's ship, watching the sun meets the ocean over the horizon, occasionally sipping on his probably fifth bottle of beer.

When he drowned himself in the memories of the events that happened these past few months, suddenly the tranquil of the sunset ahead of him doesn't interest him the least; not when a certain person had been occupying his mind.

Replaying all the twists and turns of his journey fighting those rogue group of super soldiers, one person had been but remained a mystery to him.

The Deathstalker.

It was the one puzzle piece that didn't seemed fit in the picture. As if she was plucked out entirely from a different story, a riddle that would lead him into another adventure beyond the unknown.

He still remembered the way her hands trembled against his face, tears pooling in her eyes that then fell into her mask as she muttered his name again and again.

Bucky gulped as his eyes loomed over hers, "Who are you?"

The Deathstalker seemed to be taken aback by his question. Her mutterings stopped and her eyes locked on his blue ones; there was hesitation in her gaze, or a contemplation of an answer that Bucky was dying to know.

"I-- i'm--" her words stumbled as her feet dragged backwards, putting some space between herself and Bucky.

Bucky's heart stammered in anticipation, he had a gut feeling that she wasn't just someone that he had crossed path with once or twice. He could tell they had some kind of a long history, a deeper connection; Where? When? He wasn't sure. He just knew it that there was something special between them, especially when she looked at him with such eyes.

But before she could give a definite answer, multiple groups of bounty hunters started to re-gather in their area. Zemo came in clutch with a car, picking up the injured Sam with the help of Sharon.

Bucky can hear Sharon's voice yelling out his name yet he didn't move an inch and within minutes they were surrounded by the hunters.

What was it that gave him such courage to court death just to hear her answer? Was it just purely out of curiosity or was it some kind of delusional hope that intrigued his soul?

Y/N looked around to assess their dire situation before gazing up at the taller. She knew this wasn't the best time for the truth and her hesitation only makes it worst.

But when, Bucky held out his hand towards her, "Come with me." there was a strong pull that made her wanted to just give in and take his hand.

And Bucky didn't know why he reached out for her, but it felt right. She glanced in between his hand and his pleading eyes, her own hand twitching, almost submitting to her desire but the last minute she decided to stand on her ground.

Y/N ended up turning her back and fled away, leaving her lover's hand hanging and his question unanswered.

Through the time that Bucky was deep in his memories, he may or may not have unintentionally bored his gaze towards Sarah's direction, which only triggered Sam into a protective brother that he is, "Don't flirt with my sister." He warned.

Bucky briefly scoffed and denied his accusations, "I'm not." He sipped on his bottle as he averted his gaze away.

The look on Sam's face seemed like he was trying to glare into Bucky's soul; he was sceptical with the his deflection. But the brunette only rolled his eyes in response as he spoke, "Seriously. I'm not interested." He continued before Sam couldn't interject, "Not that there's anything wrong with her.. it's just..." 

Seeing Bucky's struggles to find an excuse, Sam curiously quirked, "It's just that you already have a girl in mind?" He suggested.

There was a hint of softness in Bucky's smile when he ran his thumb across the glossy sticker of the bottle, "I had a girl." He spoke dearly as his eyes diluted into another spiral of scattered memories of his past lover, "I had the best girl."

Since the truth that was unfolded in Madripoor, Y/N had been keeping tabs on Bucky. At first, she couldn't believe it. She had to put everything about the super soldier serum on hold, to uncover more of Bucky's survival.

As it turn out, he managed to survive the fall from the train back in 1945 and had been brainwashed into a lethal weapon for Hydra for years after that.

His identity had been a secret for decades but since the fall of Hydra a few years back, the whole world knew who the Winter Soldier was. However, the people in the underground world was much fond of his villain's name, rather than the name of a war hero when it comes to addressing him.

Therefore, the lack of use of his real name had been one of the reason why Y/N was not aware of his existence. Not to mention, when he made his first public appearance when the bombing at Washington D.C. happened, she was determined to leave anything related to her past life behind and was trying to live a new life away in Singapore.

Then, a few years after that, when she came back to New York during the first year of the blip, Bucky was unfortunately, one of the people who vanished.

But, those things doesn't matter anymore now that she knew he was alive. Her Bucky. Her James. He's alive. Y/N couldn't remember the last time she was this happy, this overjoyed. That night, she couldn't sleep very well; not when her heart was working overtime all through the night.

Ever since then, she had been lurking around Bucky and Sam most of the time. Besides, her own mission of making sure the super soldier serum doesn't fall into the wrong hands and to put an end to the flagsmasher, Y/N was also there just to see Bucky.

She couldn't help it.

Imagine living a somewhat immortal life without a piece of your heart for decades. Withering to the fact that you can never see your lover, not in life nor in death; Or spending days and nights, missing and longing for his soul to be one with yours again.

And then suddenly discovering he was still alive.

Of course, she would use any excuse to see him every single day without fail. But at the same time, she didn't want to make things more complicated than it already was. With the crisis of the vigilante super soldiers, she didn't think it would be wise to reveal herself to Bucky anytime soon.

So, she stayed in the shadows instead, refuse to make herself known to Bucky. Whether as the Deathstalker or as Y/N.

Except for that one time that she decided to help him.

Bucky looked around the parking lot, trying to make a decision on which vehicle would be easiest for him to hijack. That was when he heard her signature robotic voice, "Hey, sarge!" She yelled.

He followed her voice upwards to see her feet dangling in the air, as she sat on the edge of the metal of the fire escape stairs. He hadn't seen her since their first encounter at Madripoor, "You..." Bucky whispered quietly.

Now that he thought about it, did she just call him by his title?

She titled her head to the side, "Do you require any assistance, sargent?" She asked nonchalantly as if they have been buddies for years.

Yup, she did used his title. 

Bucky's signature frown only deepened when she insinuated a jest-like tone. He wasn't sure whether she was trying to appear friendly in order to help him or slow him down. So be safe, his defence went up when he straighten his back into a stance.

When Y/N saw how his guard changed, she decided to get straight to the point, "I didn't come all the way here to fight with you, James" she leaned as if it'll close the distance between them.

She wondered if her words trigger a memory in him; after all, she did use the similar sentence in 1943 when Steve rescued him from Hydra's captivity. But the lack of response from Bucky told her otherwise. Perhaps, it was too long of past for him to remember, or it wasn't significant enough for him.

Bucky's brows quirked when she yelled, "Heads up." and his hand rose up to catch whatever it was she threw down at him.

Y/N briefly titled her head forward as she spoke, "Far left. The black bike." In which Bucky briefly followed her directions, to indeed see a black bike parked at the spot.

Bucky wordlessly turned his head back and gaze up at her with a questioning look on his face. He couldn't see her behind that mask she was wearing but if he could, he would've see her smiling, "You need it more than I do."

It has been a few months since that night. And she was still lurking somewhere in the dark. Everywhere he goes, she will be right around the corner; watching, observing.

Even now, when she found herself standing on one of the boardwalk in Louisiana, near where Sam's boat resides. There was no denying that she was sort of being a creep, basically stalking Bucky from where she was standing.

From this distance, she could see that Bucky was having the time of his life entertaining the kids with his left arm; or maybe the kids were, when they compete each other on how long they can last hanging from the vibranium metal.

Y/N just had to smile seeing him happy like this. Her heart bloomed with warmth that she never thought she would ever had the chance feel again. Bucky looked as if he was finally at peace, and that made her doubt if it was a good idea to insert herself in his life now.

She believed that he derserve a happy ending. After all he had gone through all those years, he should be able to have the luxury of having a completely new life, a new beginning. Away from the past that are just filled with painful memories and dreadful suffering. To find love again and live a long happy life where she is nothing but a distant memory.

He deserve that.

But is that what she truly wanted?

Brooklyn, 2024 – Truth Untold

"That'll be $25, sir." The red-haired smiled as she handed Bucky his usual order. He paid accordingly as he took it off her hands and walked out of the cozy little shop at the corner of the busy city street.

His gloved hand gripped onto the stem of the bouquet, as his dark and tall silhouette slithered through the crowd. Everybody seemed to be entranced with whatever it was on the screen of their phones, while Bucky felt like he was out of place and time with arrangement of primroses in his hands.

The hustle bustle of the city slowly transitioned into a much calmer and quieter scenary. He walked passed the rusty, almost deteriorating entrance gate, nodding to the old ground keeper as he passed by. He knew he could get lost if he doesn't keep his focus, yet his eyes remained on the petals of the flowers, gambling his trust in his feet to bring him to the only spot they recognized.

"Hey, doll." Bucky greeted, gripping on the stem a little tighter as he read the name of his lover on the worn-looking headstone. Months of cleaning and tending her grave, it still looked grey and sombre compared to when he first visited; but that tends to happen to a grave is been left out since the 70's.

He lowered into a crouching position and placed the flowers in front of the headstone, "I'm sorry I've been missing some weeks on ya. Duty calls." Bucky knew that wasn't a good excuse to miss their dates but the flagsmashers events had caused him to skip this little Tuesday routine of his.

As depressing it might sound, he missed coming here.

Besides going to therapy, this has been the only place where Bucky talks the most about his feelings. Though it might be completely a one-sided conversation, but he could spend hours talking to her. Telling her anything and everything that's been going on in that pretty head of his. No matter how scrambled and messy it was up there.

Bucky traced his fingers to the words engraved in the stone; it read 'Beloved daughter, sister, aunt, and friend.' Each title were delightful as they were but then again, she could've been 'a lovely wife' and 'a great mother', but she didn't.

"Why didn't you?" Bucky whispered quietly. "I just know that men must've been thrilled chasing after you, begging on their knees for your hand." He chuckled as he remembered all those times when his friends would ogle over her whenever he brought her out for a dance, "And you'd be a wonderful mother too." Knowing her gentle nature and how the kids in the hospital adored her, he just knew she would be.

His heart pierced painfully to think that she might have grown old alone, and died without family of her own. "You should've live a happy life, y/n. Marry a good man, build a family." Tears that pooled started to drip from the corner of his eyes, each tore an aching sob from his throat, "And I wished I could've be there with you."

It wasn't rare for Bucky to cry during his visits to Y/N's grave. He is the most vulnerable when he's with her; even in death, being around her has been comforting for his soul.

Y/N could clearly hear the sound of his sniffles when she stood closer to him like this. She spend day after day, gathering the courage and figuring out what to say if she ever confronted Bucky.

But in the end, the fact that Bucky was just within her reach, living, breathing; it broke whatever plan she had in her mind.

It still felt like a dream. A lucid one.

Bucky knew that was someone standing behind him; but he felt no sorts of vendetta from the person and if they mean him any harm, they would've done it sooner. He roughly stroke his palm across his face in effort to hide the tears streaks away and took a deep breath as he stood on his feet.

Whoever he had in mind, well it was definitely not that person who was standing behind him right now. It totally caught him off guard when he saw the Deathstalker standing in front of him instead of any other familiar faces.

Though her identity was still hidden, but instead of her combat attire, she was in a much comfortable clothes. Casual sneakers, basic jeans, an oversize sweater, its hood pulled over her head and a soft cloth mask covering her lower face.

Despite the change of style, her eyes were still the same. Big, brown and Bucky could only describe them to be filled with curiosity and concern as they looked up at him. He could feel the burn from the drag of her gaze on each part of his features; the softness of his lips, the red of his nose and especially the puffiness of his eyes.

He broke the silence when he started the conversation, "I assume that you're not going to fight me." He said, "At least you don't look like you're equipped for it..." Bucky pointed out the obvious.

Y/N took a few seconds of silent blinking before she responded with a shook of her head.

The lack of verbal response somehow caused him to feel slightly awkward. Rubbing the back on his neck, Bucky titled his head to the side, "So... you're here for your bike?" He asked. He still hold on to the bike that she lend to him, though it was back at his place, if that's what she wanted.

Her eyes curved into a pair of cresent moons, a side effect of a smile that Bucky couldn't see. She shook her head again to deny his speculation.

Bucky pointed out at the graveyard around them when he asked, "Uhh...are you here for a visit too?" He doubt it but it was worth to try.

Y/N looked over his shoulder, reading the familiar name engraved on the headstone behind him, before locking her eyes back to his. She shook her head yet again.

Bucky was starting to get why Sam felt annoyed with his staring problem now that he had first hand experience. Though she wasn't glaring at him like he would at Sam, but still, she was staring at him most of the time. And the lack of words made it more noticeable. "You don't talk much do you?" He asked, there was a hint of passive-aggressive in his tone.

And Y/N recognized that tone anywhere. She was surprised that that part of him hasn't change since the 40's. She remembered how Bucky would use this tone whenever he was irritated but he didn't want to be a jerk and yell out his frustration.

The fact that she still managed to notice this little quirks of his after all these years made her chuckle amusingly. There wasn't a voice changer now, it was just her voice; raw and unfiltered. And even if it was muffled behind the cloth of her mask, her laugh sounded awfully familiar to Bucky.

It sounded pretty and soft, that it tickled something in deep within his chest but not enough to trigger any memory from his subconcious, "Then, what are you doing here?" He asked curiously.

It took a moment of blinking silence before Y/N grabbed onto the fabric of her hood; she pulled it back and it revealed her slightly wavy hair dipped in raven. Bucky watched intently as her index finger slipped into the tiny slot at the side of her nose, hooking it on the fabric of her mask.

And those mere seconds of hesitation triggered the tears to form in her eyes. Her heart beating fast, tiredlessly pumping blood through the veins of her body yet her fingers still runs cold with fear.

Between the thumping sound of her own heartbeat, she might have second guessed her own decision of revealing her identity. Thinking that maybe it was best to leave the truth untold. Because what if Bucky refused to believe her?

It would truly destroy her; this time, beyond repair.

Y/N briefly closed her eyes as she breathed in, she then pulled the mask down to reveal her face. The crack in her voice betrayed the smile that curved on her trembling lips, "I'm here for you." She finally spoke.

The upward movement of muscle around her cheeks pushed her tears out, letting it flow from the corner of her eyes. She didn't dare to look at him in the face for too long, so her eyes casted downwards to where her feet dug the ground.

Decades passed and it might have been several lifetimes for Y/N since the 40's but it only felt like it was yesterday for Bucky. Especially when he had lived many years of his life to either be awake for the Winter Soldier or asleep in the freezing chambers.

All of which were just scattered of loose memories to him now. It haunted him, yes. But sometimes he couldn't tell if it was just a series of nightmares or actual reality. Thus, he tends to feel as if he had lost his sense of time. That is why he always felt out of place in the modern society.

Inside, he felt like he was still the man he was in the 40's; just thrusted forward in time. And since he started to tap into the memories of himself in those olden times, it made him felt like it hasn't been that long for Bucky since he last saw her.

Yes, he felt like it was just short distance of time but his soul certainly didn't feel the same. It had been deprived of its other half for far too long.

All the images of their time together flashed rapidly through his mind; every touch, every kiss, every laughter and even every tears they ever shared, all came rushing in like untamed waves crashing to the shore.

The beautiful strings of chaos in his head hadn't calm the slightest, in fact it pushed Bucky to move forward; to catch her silhouette before it could disappear on him like the way it always does in his dreams.

Y/N's vision was blocked when Bucky smushed her face to his chest, trapping her in an unbreakable embrace as he whispered her name, "y/n?"

Was he talking to her or was he talking to himself? Because he didn't stop muttering her name as if it was some sort of a ritual chanting.

Bucky's hand briefly roamed her body from the back of her head, barely passing her shoulders, across the spine and then folded around her waist, drawing her in; impossibly closer.

That was when she felt his body shake; much like herself, Bucky was crying for the lost time that they will never make back, for the pieces of hearts broken in those decades that they lived without one another.

Bucky had witness some unbelievable things throughout his long life on this earth; lots of mind-boggling creation of man-made technology, actual magic and sorcerers, aliens and literal Gods.

He should know that nothing is impossible. Yet, holding Y/N in his arms felt unbelievably surreal to him.

Before she managed to draw in the air, her body felt the need to melt into his form. She can feel his firm grasp around her frame, and feel how rapid his heart beating on her cheek.

At that moment, she couldn't help but to find resemblance of him to his past habits; he way he holds her, how his fingers would occasionally dance across her body, or how his nose would nudge into her hair.

Even his scent remained the same. At least the essence of it were unchanged.

Being in his arms reminded her of the whispers of promises Bucky made to her, "You promised to come home." Y/N tried to steady her breath, "You promised to come back to me."

Bucky pulled her head back, cradling her face in the contrast of his hands; one was once warm and another that felt familiar. He desperately wiped her tears away with his thumbs, almost too rough of a caress but surprisingly it brought more relief than pain to her.

Even in the sorrow and grief, anger managed to slipped through when she growled, "You dickhead, you left me behind." Though it was weak, her punches still hits the target perfectly.

Repeatedly slamming her tiny fists on his sturdy chest. The chest that were caged with heavy remorse and regret. And there wasn't really anything he could say to sooth the pain that she felt when he died.

Bucky knew that, but he had to say something, anything, "I-doll, I'm so sorry..." He was drowning her with his eyes, flooding her heart with his tears as his hand ran through her hair. Soft as he remembered it to be; at least compared from the lucid dreams she was starring in.

"Shhh!" Y/N hushed him quickly, "Just please..." her breath shuddered when she inhaled.

She didn't spend most of her lifetimes to hear an apology, not from him. If anything, he should swear on his life to never leave again, to stay this time around and always. She tugged him closer, lips hovering over each other's, just one nudge away to finally get the sweet taste of it, "...never again."

And when he kissed her, it tastes of her tears. But it was beyond fulfilling. Like their lost soul were finally being able to touch again. The gentle need, the tender crave of his kiss was enough to forge her trust back into its former glory.

And all of the sudden Bucky felt like he was drowning again; like he was desperate to breathe and she was the air. He kissed her again, and again, and again. As if he needed the taste of her lips to survive the waves; like she was his lighthouse in dark.

When they finally set apart, she wanted to speak but all she can do was croak, "Don't leave me, not again." Bucky's lips curved into a loving smile and he nods once. He folded her frame in his arms, tightly and closely; his whisper was ever-so-soft when he promised, "Never."

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Did you notice two dialogue throwback from when Bucky was rescued in 1943? "I didnt come all the way here to fight with you, James" and "I'm here for you" Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one. Thanks for reading and maybe tell you what you think?

[munsonluhvr]

MOTH TO A FLAME

pairing: exbf! eddie munson x popular!exgf! reader. word count: 1.1k warnings: smut (18+), cheating, not spell checked at all lol - this story is based on the song 'moth to a flame' by the weeknd. you can find it here

✮ find part 2 here

In a slow rhythm, you grind against Eddie Munson’s cock, the feeling of him filling you up is nearly euphoric. You’re in Eddie’s van, nestled discreetly in the large backside of the vehicle. His large, rough, ring-covered  hands are placed on your hips, guiding you in the manor he likes. Sweat compiles on your chest and hairline, the efforts of riding Eddie beginning to impact your stamina. Eddie notices your energy begin to falter and is quick to swiftly flip you over, changing your position to missionary.

You sigh softly, half from relief and half from pleasure as Eddie’s cock sinks into your cunt. Your fingers find their way into his hair, bringing in face to hover over yours. Eddie wastes no time stroking into you at an even pace, just the way he knows you like it. Your lips maneuver their way to Eddie’s, and you combine your mouths together, a soft moan escaping before they seal together.  

When you kiss Eddie, you feel pleasure and an overwhelming feeling of guilt. To be clear, Eddie is your ex, breaking up with him nearly a half a year ago. You now have a new boyfriend, Andy who plays on the basketball team, but you consistently find yourself in the arms of Eddie, sneaking away in the dark of the night to Eddie’s trailer, or hiding from the sunlight in the depths of his van. In the day, you stand beside Andy, playing the role of the perfect, loyal girlfriend who cheers him on charismatically at basketball games. In the evening you’re Eddie’s personal slut.

As if Eddie can read your mind, which you’re convinced he can, he slows his pace, taking the time to bend down to your ear. “Do you think he knows?” 

You know exactly who Eddie is talking about. “What?” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, knowing your game of avoidance too well.  “Do you think he knows you call me when he sleeps to come pick you up and fuck you?” 

You hate being confronted by Eddie about your wrongdoings, not that he’d ever bully you about them since he knows that could cause you to never call him again. You know it’s wrong and Eddie does too. But Eddie will show up, pulling you away from Andy, anytime you ask; he’d do anything to have you back as his girlfriend, as his. Sometimes, Eddie just likes to nudge you a little, silently asking you to reconsider your relationship with “that Andy guy” Eddie normally says. 

“Can we not talk about that right now?” You ask, your eyes working hard not to roll back in your head as Eddie begins to pick up his stroke pace. “I know, I’m a bad person, I’m fucking my ex while I’m dating someone else.” 

Eddie feels a smile pulling at his lips, though he tries not to cringe when you refer to him as your ex. Eddie decides to drop it, at least for the moment. To distract you, Eddie moves away from your face, leaving a trail of kisses that lead to your tits. With one of his hands, he cups one, letting it tongue flick across your nipple. Your back arches, your legs twitch, as he works his mouth on your assets. “Eddie, fuck, everything feels so good.” Eddie smiles against your skin, loving your praise and the way he can make you feel good. ‘Can Andy do that?’ Eddie thinks to himself before shaking the thought out of his head. 

In your abdomen, you feel a knot form in your stomach, the sign that you’re on the brink of orgasming. Eddie, too, feels the sensation that signals he’s close too; your time on top, riding Eddie, did a number on him as he had to hold himself back from finishing several times. 

Your legs tighten around Eddie’s waist, bringing his cock deeper inside of you, and you begin to writher underneath him. In only a few strokes, you cum, hard, around Eddie’s cock, triggering Eddie to finish too, filling your cunt with white, sticky ropes of his seed. Your breath shallows as your body works to recollect the breath and energy that’s been wiped out of you. 

Eddie lay’s next to you, brushing a strand of hair that clings to your forehead off your face. “Now can we talk about it?” 

You turn your head over to Eddie, a disappointed look on your face. “Eddie, why? Nothing is going to change.” 

Eddie frowns, lifting himself up onto his elbow. “Why not? You’re telling me Andy can make you come that hard?” 

You open your mouth to speak but close it. The answer is no, Andy can’t make you come that hard, but telling Eddie that would only fuel his efforts to get you to break up with Andy. 

“So, we’re just going to keep sneaking around? As if Andy will never figure out why you’re completely missing from your house and unreachable by phone several times a week.” Eddie says, shaking his head. “Why can’t you just break up with him since you spend more time with me anyway? I know you’re going to say he’s good for you and all your friends like him more then they like me but save me the bullshit and tell me the truth.” 

You sigh, sitting up to find your clothes to throw back on. “Eddie, it’s just complicated.” You say, slipping your panties on, your pants, and your shirt. You stuff your bra into your bag, not feeling like putting in on. As you put on your shoes, Eddie’s fingers travel down your bare arms, creating goosebumps across your skin. “I know it’s my fault,” Eddie hums, the pad of his thumb brushing against your arm, “-that we broke up. I promise to be better for you if you give me another chance, y/n.” 

One thing you know is that Eddie never breaks a promise. You grab your backpack that sits in the passenger seat and sling it over your shoulder. You offer him a small smile, knowing you’ll end up with Eddie again, some day. You use the lever on the door of the van to open the sliding door. “Same time tomorrow?” you say, hoping Eddie will comply. 

As usual, Eddie nods, knowing one day you’ll come around. Besides, he has to admit that sneaking around being your punk ass new boyfriends back excites him as if it’s some sort of revenge against Andy. Sending you to hang out with your boyfriend while you’re filled with Eddie’s come might as well be an early birthday present for Eddie. “Same time tomorrow,” Eddie says, slipping his hellfire club t-shirt on. 

[thatdeadaquarius]

PART 2 - Genshin Impact SAGAU / Isekai: Gifts to Give Your Allogene!

ELEMENTS HERE: Dendro, Hydro, Cryo, Geo

Part 1 / Part 2 (you're here!)

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Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them only)

Planet: General SAGAU / Isekai Stuff, Platonic Cuteness

Orbit: Headcanons-ish, a couple sentences for each

Stars: a little bit of everybody as of Baizhu/Kaveh update! including rare beloveds like Aloy! (I hope I got them all… at least the playable ones… ) Please understand that some characters are more “foreground” characters and have more screen time so I may have written some more for them because I knew them better!

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: weapons for gifts?? 16+ Older Teen Audiences Advised, light cussing

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& Trigger Warnings: None Known.

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Edit 1/1/24: Hey I expanded on this in my Eldritch Fanfic Post Part 2, but I just wanted to vet the old posts and say I did do a form of exoticism by including the word "Huangdi" throughout this.

I've since replaced it for better readability with "Emperor" but I didn't want to erase my mistake like it never happened. I'm genuinely sorry about this, I never had ill intentions by including it, but regadless of intentions that's the impact of my actions. I'm absolutely going to be looking out for kind of thing in the future/get a sensitivity reader/a beta read from that culture to check me.

I hope you still enjoy my writing and can understand.

Dendro Allogenes:

Tighnari = with some help again to put magic into it, you give Tighnari some head coverings you sewed together that have the power of Cryo in them! So now he can actually see what plants are out in the desert, visit Cyno, or just enter the desert to his heart’s content, which, yes, his tail started unconsciously wagging after you explained what it was. “Oh! For me? Well I’ve taken to avoiding the desert if I can because of… wait a minute, you say it has cryo in it? What? How does that work?? You think it’ll genuinely help me in the desert?? You made it???” Tighnari’s ears are all twitching with excitement, and he’s holding the covering (that matches his clothes/dark green) like it’s a new plant for study, omg he pulled out his magnifying glass and everything-

Collei = so she’s actually a really good seamstress, and makes plushies a lot, esp for kids! but one day you found one of her first attempts, a ragged looking sort of pale pink bunny… her first attempt at a plushie Baron Bunny!! so you decided to mimic her design (still baron bunny but with a sort of Sumeru-like clothing on it), and sew her one! You made a whole day of it, eating together, going to the best spots to sightsee (for as long as Collei was up for it/not too tired) and then gifted her the plushie Baron Bunny! She accidentally let out a small scream that startled both of you tbh, and then snatched that shit so quick lmao, kicking her feet on the picnic blanket and everything! With your permission of course, Collei then tackled you for a hug lol, she ranted about all the little details and made you tell her several times over how you made it so she could make some more in the future too! She may or may not have talked about missing Amber and teared up… but then you redirected her attention to the bunny saying, it’s like a gift from Amber and you really! (you also added a function where, if you squeeze the Baron, it’ll dish out some healing power and some heat! …Collei tackle hugged you twice for that one)

Alhaitham = what a hard person to get gifts for, he’d probably be like “thanks” no matter what you got him 😭, he means it tho, it would just be underwhelming… but on the bright side, he definitely seems like he’d show a deeper appreciation for handmade gifts! Since you learned how to make one for Yoimiya, you decide this calls for another handmade hammock (also bc Teyvat doesnt have hammocks)! You painted symbols like green crystals and geometric patterns, but also lions and a golden Palace of Alcazarzaray for Kaveh, and your symbol, the eight point star (like the four point but with flare/not like the jewish symbol with equal points lol)!! So that way he can keep lazing away, and avoid people more comfortably lmao, and also if he is going to do that, he doesnt have to sit on rocks or hard structures for hours reading, and you hope it’s encouragement for him to spend time outside/take a break and nap! (Haitham knows that’s part of why you gave him this, even if you didn’t say it, and so he makes a point to do that more often to make you happy, take the advice for his health) oh look, after thoroughly looking at your craftsmanship for 10 minutes, you got a smile in addition to a “thanks”, damn, that’s actually how you know he likes it a lot <3 :)

Nahida = you remember vaguely from Nahida’s storylines/friendship levels that she loves games, and so you collect her a nice deck for Genius Invokation TCG! You also made her a cute bag and container for it, her bag is a rose maple moth crocheted bc really this was an excuse to just make the cutest character in Sumeru look even cuter, (like this, i tried very hard ok, bc this doesnt exist yet, im shocked) The first image is most correct, (imagine the face and stuff is cuter/simpler) as that’s also the backpack part! Her eyes were so big when you handed it to her, (you honestly were shocked they even could get any bigger lol). She jumped up and down excitedly with the backpack on (ur fucking heart, just like you intended, the wings flapped around and everything <333) you are also currently working on a luna moth (the pale green moth) in case she wants it to match her outfit more! even tho Nahida insists something handmade once is enough, you can see the childish yearning in her eyes, like a kid trying to say no to a toy that’s being offered right in front of them lmao

Kaveh = pretty girls deserve pretty things, and you were definitely feeling the pressure to make something high quality enough for Kaveh, tho u know he’s sweet enough that he’d appreciate anything you’d take the time to handmake (and tbh.. it sounds a little arrogant, but ur hoping something so cared for by what he, or at least most people see as some kind of all-powerful god above the archons, will boost his self-esteem/confidence in his own worth more, or at least let him know one more person cares about him…) so you didnt make it super detailed, and you put a note on it too to let him know your not as great at that as he would be, but you made a model of the part of the teapot house you’re going to design for him! Like a sort of sneakpeak, you made a small lookalike of Alhaitham and his house, but filled it with decor like if Howl didnt hoard all the cool shit in his room in Howl’s Moving Castle, but instead spread it out, and sort of used your modern taste for layout, (not the ugly ass corporate aesthetic) and a small garden. You also made nearly all the decor and stuff something interesting (like some primogem strings, they can be pretty small, for string lights, lampgrass from Mondstadt that he’s never seen etc.) and while you very shyly handed him the model at first, he was practically vibrating with excitement!! “You made this?! Oh of course I don’t expect perfection, it looks wonderful so far, especially if this was your first attempt!!” Kaveh has like sat down, and is delicately holding it and looking around, and when you tell him it’s an actual space, meant for him, he gently sets down the model and grabs you by the shoulders, “Show. Me. Now. …please?” looking at you with very determined puppy dog eyes lol

Yaoyao = …idk what you expected. It was so obvious. A crocheted bunny backpack. brown, so it matches her, since her basket was brown, or you could leave off the feet, whichever u prefer, and anyway, Yaoyao is always doing things for others, so the little girl was so cute and pink when you actually gave her something instead! (once again, using ur old trick of making the person think u need something then shocking them with a handmade gift instead hehe) She IMMEDIATELY switched it out for her basket and has pretty much converted to using it full time! (tho when she needs the more solid one she’ll still wear it, she just alternates, esp if there’s some occasion she’ll deffo wear the bunny backpack, it’s her “fancy god-made bunny backpack!”)

Baizhu = the doctor isn’t one to talk about himself a lot, so you weren’t sure what he would like other than some new tea… but you wanted to make it yourself so while you were a little disappointed it was just a basic pet gift, you wanted to maybe put a little extra into it so maybe Changsheng will use it and Baizhu will think it’s cute! You crocheted a little pet pod/cave for her to hang out in (imagine this but a Jueyun Chili hehe) and it also has a little crocheted vine rope so the little Jueyun Chili cave can be hung from things, or even tied onto Baizhu’s apron/hold it like a purse! That way Changsheng doesn’t always have to drape across his shoulders/has somewhere to retreat! When you shyly showed Baizhu and Changsheng, he literally clapped, so did Qiqi lol (he usually does those tiny smiles… but this one was the brightest most genuine you’ve ever seen, even in game…!!) You find that Baizhu’s eyes look like that type of person’s eyes were they just look like “happy”, like there’s a little fond sparkle in his eye. Changsheng was all like “about time I got something instead of him! I’m basically an assistant too y’know! …thank you very much, my Emperor.” (if you’re NOT squimish of snake pics, pls look at this cute smile Changsheng would give)

Hydro Allogenes:

Barbara = …so even Barbara was a little hesitant at first, but came around to the idea after some convincing, and some encouragement (and showing her she was capable of it) but you basically ….may ….or may not have… found a loop hole for her being a catalyst? So, thru a lot of persuading Barbara to train with you and Childe (who also thought it was amusing to see such a young girl who’s literally a nun and a singer do this) you got Barbara to make water bombs! Like her circle of notes that float around her when healing, she sings and gestures and similar to her ult, (but like Childe’s E-skill it just switches between the two), the notes fly out and explode in the direction she sings/aims! You wanted to remind her of her old dream of being recognized, and wanting to help in battle in a more combat way, and besides, you’re sick of women getting regulated to the healing magical role in games/anime fantasy, so yeah. You and Childe are literally evilly giggling to each other in the background as Barbara sends quater notes and lines of music that explode (like how water can sharpen and cut things like Childe’s blades? Yeah he taught her that) so intensely that it cuts into the Pyro Lawlachurl, bringing it to its knees- Barbara accidentally cuts its head off as the finishing blow. While she gasps in a little fear, but mostly shock, Childe jumps up and down and starts cheering.

Mona = got sparkly eyes, nearly snatched the gift out of your hand, you made her some awesome earrings from the character banner wishes! All pretty ombre pink and blue they swirl and look so pretty framing Mona’s face, she only wears them on special occasions despite your claim of everyday use, they also help her figure out where the clearest view of the night sky each night but glowing brighter and brighter when she gets closer to seeing clearly, Mona is almost? weirdly envious?? for her past self that had to suffer thru all the inconvenient cloudy nights lmao

Childe = like anon said, a new pair of knit gloves, using the fur from the snow king boar! he’s amazed they never wear out now, and he totally uses them as an excuse to hold your hands all like “I just can’t get over how soft they are, feel them, you did amazing comrade! even better than some Snezhnayan shops!!”, exactly what you expect he’s leaning into your face and everything- 🙄

Xingqiu = an ao3 account you had a hard time with Xingqiu’s, afterall, he’s from a wealthier family, so he can get mostly what he wants, and you don’t wanna just get him another book… so you kidnapped him to Inazuma! (idk if this is canon, or happened in an event or smth I missed idfc) So, you also kidnapped Albedo for this trip, so that Xingqiu could actually see the impact his writing made overseas! While you intended for this trip to make Xingqiu feel better abt his writing, (and to help Albedo feel appreciated too, despite him not expressing much low self-esteem in his art, compliments heaped upon him def cant hurt, plus u can see him go pink too hehe) you also wanted to surprise him with a author book signing! If he was up for it, of course, which he “I absolutely, definitely, certainly am, my liege!” Kid’s practically hopping in place, as you get him all ready for his book signing (and not rlly Albedo bc he’s always fucking perfect, u dont have to do shit, even his messy hair looks nice 💀) …you also may or may not have given him some hair decorations (to help his asymmetrical cutting, not that it looks super bad, but for a change at least)

Yelan = …it’s official. You are intimidated. It’s only pretty hydro women and Ayato from here on, on your “Gift List”. Needless to say, like a few other allogenes, you wouldn’t know shit about this woman if you didn’t read her lore… it’s not a fine replacement, you don’t think, but with (lots of almond tofu, and osmanthus wine too) dev access to help you, you created another bracelet for Yelan. Inscribed (just like the heirlooms) inside simply says “You Are Not Alone”, with your eight star symbol following after (like a four star but with some flare, and also not the Jewish star lol), it glows an otherwordly gold, a contrast to the bright blues of the other bracelet. Its function is a geo shield, to protect Yelan and any teammates nearby when it’s activated, she can also leave the shielded area in one spot, so she can do her e-skill and still protect people. You’d just casually asked her to meet up with you one day in that teahouse you know she runs for intel, and when you presented her the bracelet, she held it delicately, saying nothing as she examined it, reading the inside. A small smile tugged her lips up, and she slips it on as she sips her tea, “…Well, I’ll have to show this to present this one to the family shrine, I think this more than makes up for the heirloom I failed to keep. A replacement from the Guide of Teyvat themselves… Thank you, my Emperor, for this handwrought gift you bestow upon a mortal such as me. …and thank you, for not leaving me alone.” Yelan bows a little in her seat, sharp blue eyes more softened than you’ve ever seen her, trained on yours. Her hands are together in that same praying motion that gives you the weirdest sense of deja vu…

Kokomi = so you don’t know much about her, as the it seems the character lore for Kokomi you can remember was… lacking, to say the least. Hoyo definitely plays favorites, BUT YOU DON’T!! At least when it comes to gift givining so everyone feels appreciated, you got a pretty book (handmade or bought) and got it/made it kinda small, like the size of the book in her idle animation, bc turns out that’s her diary of sorts. You know the priestess feels if she expresses any opinions that her people will just take her side, or her word as… well, a divine priestess, the weight of her title you suppose. She also keeps track of how many spoons she has! Like what things drain her, and what things make her feel better (big social interactions vs. reading a war treaty book by herself for example) So you made her a bullet journal! (here’s one of my favorite bullet journal youtubers, here’s a flipthru of her completed journal) you didn’t fill out the whole thing, just some example pages, to show her the possibilites! …you were kinda worried bc she turned away at first after delicately accepting it, and since it was just you two, she allowed herself turn back around and start excitedly chatting your ear off as she leaned in- and wow. Kokomi’s eyes really are, dreamy, like cotton candy… and they’re so much prettier when she smiles…

Ayato = …you know exactly what to do. Interrupting his busy schedule (and only actually taking one day out of it actually bother him so he can have the others as a secret vacation hehe) to come over to the Kamisato household and homemake some boba drinks for him, Ayaka, and Thoma to try! Mostly Ayato tho, you got all the syrups, the milks teas, the boba, and luckily, were able to get some help from Xiangling in experimenting in making… popping pearls! (they’re edible boba pearls that are actually filled with juice/syrup flavors and burst on your tounge when you barely bite them! they’ve very sweet, and Inazuma definitely didn’t have any different pearls other than tapioca, those squishy black pearls you see in his regular boba tea) …Ayato is literally holding your hand like he’s about to drop to one knee, this man is down bad for boba (and you) and… are those tears?! Is he tearing up?! “I can’t believe… THE Akitsu Mikami… blessed me, personally, with boba?? With NEW boba teas and pearls I’ve never even seen?! …Thank you, my beloved emperor!” Mans has quite literally gotten on his knees, but bc he’s so tall, he can still comfortably hold both your hands in his bigger gloved ones …Thoma is desperately trying to get Ayato up, Ayaka is getting onto her brother in the background.

Candace = it’s not exactly a traditional gift… but the reason Candace doesn’t wear a lot of her jewelry or finery is because of the hard job she has as a Guardian/in the desert, so you figured giving her more things she can’t even really wear wasn’t the way to go.. So instead! You gather a journal or advice from Ningguang, Keqing, Yelan, Zhongli, and all the others in the Qixing who were willing to help you, and kidnapped Ganyu for a sight seeing trip! (since u and Ganyu has that whole “in between two very different worlds” bond) You brought Ganyu because you know if anybody would be good at managing something/getting it started (like the music fest back for Lantern Rite… that I missed bc I dont understand how lantern rite works 😭😭😭 VIOLENTLY SOBS ITS BEEN 2 YEARS AND I HAVENT GOTTEN A SINGLE LANTERN RITE U GUYS-) it would be Ganyu herself! …and to also give her a break. See Aaru Village suffered from little to no economy before Candace finally negoiated with the elders to let Sumeru merchants travel into town/buy from them/sell to them, but she’s had a rough time keeping the old coots from being dicks about it since, …and it’s also hard to convince the younger generations to come back after many wanted to see the outside world because of this… So what better what to solve two birds with one stone?? GANYU!! And all the economy and business advice you could gather form Liyue! You hope that the village flourishing (and helping Candace cut down on shady merchants) would impress the older generation, yet also get more money in the town so they can dress it up a bit more (like fixing unsteady bridges, also u kidnapped Kaveh to help revitalize their cultural architecture buildings back into life/or help make the simple buildings just prettier) Now Ganyu and her are besties (Candace rlly needed another friend besides just Dehya alone to come out and see her in the desert) and the adepti was very willing to come visit her and Aaru Village to help the economy maintain its footing/run smoothly, and Kaveh also comes and works on it/checks on her/the village! …When you initially showed all the plans to Candace, saying it’ll impress the old by bringing back old designs/architecture plus interest/satisfy the younger generations to know their hometown is advancing and make it more appealing to come back to… The Guardian puts her shield and spear off to the side, she lowers her head, and greets you, bc u kinda just started rambling without saying hello- whoops- , “Salaam aleikum Qore, **I have already become the first Guardian to have been blessed by the gods, to receive this Vision was the only aid I could turn to in trying to help my village, my community… but to be blessed once more? I would never have dared to dream, let alone the Ogdoad Qore… I am grateful on behalf of myself, my village, and all of King Deshret’s people. …truly, I did not expect a gods eyes to turn favorably upon us since my ancestors’ time. Thank you, my Qore.” You just give her a smile back, she taught you the return phrase, so you hope it’s appropiate, “Waaleikum us salam.” :)

Nilou = This woman is consumed by dancing, other than keeping the peace (well, within reason apparently bc she’s okay with a coup-) but you’ve heard how hard it can be on dancers, how plenty of them have to have strong muscles to perform consistently. So, using adepti magic, you’ve enchanted this minakari you’ve painted (a type of metalwork that’s then painted by artists, on Earth countries like Iran, India, Afghanistan, Pakistan make them) like the teapot! It’s a small island that has a dance studio, and more importantly, a spa with hot springs, a sauna, and a room full of medical supplies dancers would need like salves, heating/cooling pads (using pyro/cryo), and space for stretches! Overall, just a place for her to get away from all the people and to heal her body up for the next performance, and after getting it all prepped/packed up with supplies, and showing it to Nilou… she literally had her hands over her mouth the whole walk around the rooms and showing her everything. Nilou had already been shocked you’d painted her a minakari piece, let alone all this! Like some others, she was quick to drop the formalities, and before you could even say “I hope you like it!” she was wrapping her arms around you and squeezing as tight as she could, tearing up and saying how happy she was that someone understood how hard dance can be on the body and how hard it can also be to take care of yourself, and how she can’t possibly show her gratitude- wait a minute. She’s pulled back and gripping you by the shoulders, not even bothering to wipe her eyes, before she swears to give you a dance every year with all the culmination of her work as she learns and makes newer and better dances!! <3

Cryo Allogenes:

Kaeya = horses so he’s actually a calvary captain- you actually wanted something that’d emphasize the handmade part of the gift, to really let Kaeya know somebody out there really cares about him, cares about him in the way that they’ll sit down and think of an idea and think of him, and then work for hours, sewing, drawing, crafting something just for him, to happy about. You make him a small, pocket sized photobook, and have a picture of every person who cares about him in all the slots, and near the end, from his last birthday where you gathered everybody together to celebrate, is a photo of Jean, Klee, Albedo, Sucrose, Venti, Rosaria, Noelle, Amber, even Eula, Diona, Mika, Barbara, and Mona came! But most importantly, you got Diluc to host it at Angel’s Share, and after some convincing, got him to get in the picture, you’re slightly off center, sandwiched by Kaeya and Diluc, where Kaeya is mid-laugh at the center, having just seen Diluc’s embarrassed face. It’s the last one in the mini album, and each photo has an even small message at the bottom, giving Kaeya a message from everybody, just for him. At the very end, with the group photo just before, is one of yourself and him posing together, you having taken him out roaming Mondstadt for the perfect picnic spot, just to give an excuse why you wanted a picture with him. And at the time, he found it a little suspicious, but was just flustered enough he let it slide. But now, opening and unfolding this tiny album, full of smiling friends and caring words, Kaeya gives a small, watery chuckle, you’ve left him a message too. “Take care of yourself Kaeya, because someone out there really cares about you. :) “

Rosaria = After seeing her “nun” outfit, there’s no doubt in your mind that Rosaria is yearning for clothes closer to her preferred aesthetic. So, using your knowledge of punk clothes and modern goth religious aesthetics, you’ve made some pieces for her to try! Some black pumps with metal crosses for heels, yes they’re sharp and this nice shawl with beads, and finally, a nice lacy skirt (no you did not make fucking lace, jesus christ, you’re not a miracle worker, despite the belief of some teyvatians-). All of which, wow, got Rosaria to give you an honest to god… smile. A full, genuine smile from Rosaria… yeah that made all your hard work worth it.

Eula = a book on common manners so Eula is actually great at cooking! So what better chaos to gift to her other than introducing her to Xiangling! Especially since you’ve given the young Liyuean cook recipes from your own world for her to try out, she’s been on a rampage of new things, and so what better new experience than a cook from an entirely different country? You also made a small book of recipes (look up how to make a zine book on youtube it’s actually kinda easy) from your world, different from Xiangling’s because you thought Eula would like different recipes than her. …So needless to say you were then being berated by two chefs for not sharing all the recipes lmao, tho that really just gave them reason to share recipes! Also any new spinoffs Xiangling’s already made from the initial ones you gave her, and now Eula not only graciously thanks you for the recipes, but also her new pen pal! :)

Diona = So, to prep for this gift, you forced converted the Cat’s Tail to a non-alcoholic cat cafe during the daytime, and only in the evenings do they start serving alcohol/cats put up. You also got onto Margaret for hiring a child to make alcohol, so instead have Diona work better hours, and only during the cafe time, so she’s not making alcoholic drinks either. (you also checked in on child labor laws in Mondstadt, and ran some paperwork by Jean just in case) But most importantly, you teach Diona all kinds of new drink recipes to make, like Shirley Temples, smoothies, etc. You even (once again, by getting help from Xiangling and Diluc) made a drink for hangovers, but more importantly, helped her make one called “Sober Up” which magically flushes out the alcohol out of someone’s body, so Diona can finally sneak people a drink that (while still cursed to be well-made since Diona made it) is a trip to drink lol, it’s like a blast of carbonation/electricity to the system and will typically make most people very nauseous (but since magic’s doing it, they dont need to throw up, they’re just sick feeling for an hour depending on how much they drank). Diona nearly cried after she saw the effect on hungover customers, and immediately started sneaking them into her father’s drinks, so now he’s leaning more toward sobriety most days, and after finding out what Diona did, started to talk to his daughter more. The next time you see her, and ask after her father, she just wraps her little arms around your waist, the highest she can reach, you hug her back.

Chongyun = for prep for this gift, you painstakingly, slowly convince Chongyun to accept more and more moments of warmth, like trying some spicy food that’s gone cold, but just away from people so he can be silly out in the Liyuean mountains instead, and to try and use exposure therapy to try and get him used to yin energy/warm/excitable things, rather than the inefficient method of just avoiding it all (as it doesn’t always work/deprives him of so many nice things!! >:[ ). So that way! You can finally! Take him to have fun!!! You haul him (and Xingqiu bc the more the merrier) to go swimming in Luhua Pools, go jumping off all the peaks from one to another paragliding, using cryo to surf down waterfalls, and most importantly, go to a hot springs at the end of the day! Chongyun was worried about them being too hot and activating his yang energy, but you all agreed he had been training to get used to it, so now he when he goes to try it, he just relaxes into the heat. He could feel the tug to get out and run in circles and get excited, but finally, Chongyun could just choose to sit and relax into the warmth with friends instead :)

Ganyu = if I had a nickel for every woman In teyvat who just needs a break I’d be fucking rich …Obviously, a day off. But an ACTUAL day off, with work regulated to others, and unless there’s an Osial level incident 2.0 (fuck his wife, you put Shenhe on duty to protect Liyue just in case) NO ONE. IS. TO. DISTURB. GANYU’S. FIRST. VACATION. IN. DECADES. You get her to show you the prettiest viewing spots in Liyue, and as you go, tell stories from your life on Earth, showing her pictures on your phone (from both the internet and ur photos), to show her how mortal you are on one hand, but then how different you are here, upgrading her weapons and artifacts, and most importantly, her gift, a Teyvat modified cellphone! Albedo and you had been working together for months to try and make something close enough to connect ur two worlds, while introducing him to adeptal magic and other powerful objects like primogems and wishes that you have to help power it, that way the only other person who might understand immediately how it feels to be (literally lol) caught between two worlds can always rely on each other! …Ganyu cried. Yep, tears down her cheeks and everything, “…I- I- don’t even- even know what to say? All this, telling me about your mortal world, helping me get stronger, and now- now this? I may not have much to give in return, other than my company and my bow… but should you ever need me, or even wish for me, I will hold you as steady as I hold together Liyue itself, my Emperor." Ganyu’s smile is so, so, so pretty, and all the prettier now that her soft blue hair and sweet eyes are framed by the sunset, like it’s her own gift back to you.

Qiqi = A backpack for herbs! You’ve made sure to stitch her name into it so in case she forgets it’s hers, she’ll just see her name again, and lots of little pockets so she can carry all the herbs/make deliveries, it looks a little like this but with a goat instead of cow, and some cocouts lmao, literally a “coco-goat” milk backpack! She is now the cutest person in Liyue, everyone agrees, nearly every single person who comes into Bubu Pharmacy gives Qiqi a compliment now, and Baizhu will periodically take a break just so he and Changsheng can coo at her lmao (Qiqi made sure she wrote down in her notebook in big letters next to your name “This person made my cocogoat backpack, remember to thank them during prayer times, and collect lots of fresh herbs for them”)

Shenhe = It’s kind of a lot, but really, at this point, you’ve done more for some of the others so this probably isn’t even scratching the surface of how big of a gift you can give, so why not. Going full steam ahead, you furnish her a house at the edge of town, so that she’s not overwhelmed by all the human traffic/people, but still close enough to make the friends she wants! When you first show her the dining/living room so plenty of guests can come over, and begin to tour her through it, the strongest woman you’ve probably ever known gently holds your shoulders and stops you from speaking, and turns you to face her, Shenhe’s eyes are sharp with observation as they roam your face, and then settle on your own wide eyes. Her eyes soften, and a small smile warms her usual stern face, (idc how tall you are, she’s taller, I fucking promise) as she leans down a little to look at you closely in the eyes, “Thank you for being a kind god. You did not have to be so generous to me, and yet here you are. If you ever feel like you’re an outsider in Teyvat, in any country or company you find yourself in, please, promise me you’ll come here. Come home to me?” ✨💘✨

Ayaka = You manage to get her away from her duties to take her out to Sumeru! Mostly so you can introduce her to Nilou, see her performance, and the flourishing arts that now fill Sumeru City’s streets, and more importantly, a dress you made so she could dance with Nilou + dance on stage, she wasn’t confident enough/didn’t want to dance for a crowd, so it’s just you three or just you two after awhile. Ayaka looks the happiest she’s been in awhile, more so than you ever saw in game, and it’s… almost like a breath of fresh air to see her away from what you felt was such an isolating environment, even after the Vision Hunt Decree was over. For her last dance, Ayaka does so alone, a little after the sun has set, so it’s all blue, and the stars are coming out, finally, you get to see an even better version of the dance she gave the traveler that night. She only opens her eyes at the end, to give you the giddiest smile you’ve ever seen on her, cheeks cute and plumped up bc she’s smiling so hard, and bows to you (Ayaka’s thanked you a million times, but she doesn’t need to, you can feel how happy she is just from this)

Mika = THE BOY!! One of the most boys to ever boy in all of Teyvat!! Your boy!!! :D What a boy, he nearly fainted when you handed over his gift one day, and you had to reach out and steady him, then hand him it again 😭 It’s similar to the Marauder’s Map, since you enchanted it (once again, what’s the point of dev access if I can’t make gifts for my skrunklies?) and since you don’t want it to end up in bad hands/get spyed on, it only shows itself with a phrase as well “I wish upon a golden star, to know this land as well as its player.” and it’ll show him everyone in public spaces in Mondstadt, not private homes, but like the plaza, the church, the Knights of Favonius, etc. He thanks you every single time he sees you for the map, as it’s both fascinating to him to have a proper well-drawn map of the city of Mondstadt (you copied it from the Teyvat in game map, but there were some buildings missing bc they’re more real here/more fleshed out as a irl city) but that just made Mika even happier bc he can go and map them out!! Literally can’t talk to you bc all he’s saying is “T-TH-TH-THANK-THANK YOU ALL FURST-!!!” before running away most of the time lol

Layla = An embroidered tiny pillow for her to easily clip onto her bag/fit in it, and take on the go with her! (this but the text just says “Sweet Dreams Layla ♡” ) that you’ve also added scent to, including some sleep inducing magics, so she’s guarenteed to sleep well and efficiently when she uses it! She blushed so hard you thought she was sick at first when you gave it to her, and she also used the pillow as a shield to hide her face as she thanked you lmao, and she made you a pillow in return! …even if she thinks it’s not as good as yours, both craft wise and function, Layla worked for weeks on it! …lol now ur the one hiding ur face behind a pillow (this but they’re all plants of sumeru)

Aloy = …if you had a nickel for every person you’ve provided with a house, you’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird it happened twice… Poor damn heroine just got dragged from one world to the next, just as the last one finally was at peace, now she’s here in Teyvat, where nothing’s familiar, the entire world is set up different, people are nicer and more open here, and there’s still threats looming on its horizon. Needless to say, she is tired, and misses her own homeworld. You really wish on her behalf that Hoyo hadn’t done a crossover, but since she’s here, you figure you might as well make it easier on her. You’ve made another teapot-like adeptal magic container, so she can have a place all to herself, and given her a ticket to your own, afterall, if anybody knows what’s its like to get yanked to another world, specifically Teyvat, it’d be the travelers and yourself, and sure enough as time goes one, Aloy becomes closer with you all, and begins to finally feel a sense of familiarity, she wraps an arm around your shoulders the first time she saw you tried to make her own personal teapot place emulate her homeworld. The widest grin you’ve seen on her face, she gives you a squeeze, “It’s just been one adventure after the next, and when we started out, you were just another stranger in a world I didn't understand. But after everything we've been through, I can say this for certain: My bow is yours, now and always. Thank you for the second home, my king.” Aloy says teasingly, laughing at the face you make.

Geo Allogenes:

Noelle = goddamn when will the busy women trend END these poor souls Motherfucker, you’re gift to Noelle was to knight the damn girl yourself. No, but you nearly talked Jean’s ear off for an hour, after gathering evidence (both from eyewitnesses, and Noelle herself, including other knights and Jean herself) about why the literal fuck Noelle wasn’t a Knight of Favonius yet, and why she should be. After genuinely shaking Jean’s nerves a little, she agreed, and finally, Noelle was going to knighted along with any other potential recruits during the testing season, (as people with high reputations, which, once again, using your god status for all its worth, could recommend new recruits) but most importantly… You gave her a 5-star claymore, which, you do have to somewhat work on yourself physically in teyvat now, but your dev access lets you cheat a little (like the cooking meter on cooking dishes, you’re the goddamn cooking god when hosting guests hehe) so you also are allowed to edit it, like adding a Geo-bonus to the weapon itself! When the ceremony for knighthood was going, and pretty much all of Mondstadt came to finally see Noelle get knighted, you made a fun show of walking out where you were hiding and replacing Jean, to knight Noelle yourself. She’s gone completely red in the face, and is starting to sway a little in her down on one knee position, as you gently place the blade on both shoulders, and grin at her as you turn and pull out the claymore for her. She actually does end up falling over, pale as a ghost, whoops-

Albedo = internet access so he can become a fucking god basically the alchemist is a hard guy to make a gift for, another person you’re a little afraid high-quality handmade gifts would impress him more… so you worked hard, and eventually you managed to make three big notebooks for Albedo, one with lined paper, one bulleted, and one blank for sketches (you did the title page a decent sketch of his pretty face smiling and “For Albedo” underneath, and while that one had a picture, the other two had just the words) and you also loaned him your cellphone for awhile, and suggested the idea of a laptop to make for himself, as he already managed to get you connected to Earth’s internet again, that’s part of the reason you customized/made him notebooks, so he could research from the internet and write down any notes he wanted! …wow. you really did it. after explained all this, and leaving him notes about the laptop idea as loose paper stuck inside one of them, you managed… to get Albedo to… smile. At you. Like a FULL smile, pretty lips, wide smile, and flushed cheeks-!! Albedo caught the notebooks you almost dropped.

Ningguang = what do you get the woman that has everything? so you started to think of things that’d make an experience, and after remembering her lore about her making a chess game, you decided a board game would be good! And if you make the little pieces, it’d be one of a kind too! (she’s the type that really loves handmade gifts/as long as you put effort in it doesnt matter how “bad” it looks to her, she’ll believe it’s still good <3) …So you made a Teyvat version of Monopoly. You figured the business part would be in her realm of expertise, and maybe she could use it to play with business associates or friends, and of course, she’s a competitive woman, so she thinks it’s great, and even asked permission that a marketable version be made (one that’s not nearly as nice quality as hers from you obviously)! Ningguang also treated you very well as a thank you for making it for her, a nice dinner at Liuli Pavilion, with a useful gift of places you haven’t seen in Teyvat yet bc it’s more expansive now that you’re physically here!! You may have gotten over-excited about it… and she may have chuckled at you… and you may have gotten flustered after she rested her pretty hand on yours for nearly half the dinner as you stuttered thru and explanation of the game…

Zhongli = …what do you get the man that has everything (ningguang problem 2.0)?? Well, since you thought of something for her that was an experience a little bit, yet also one of a kind, you figured the same path for the previous God of Wealth/literally invented money/etc. would do, plus he’d the type to deeply appreciate handmade gifts too! Using a few chunks of Light Realm Core, 3 Masterless Starglitter, 1 Intertwined Fate, and 1 Condensed Resin, to make a nigh indestructible Ginko leaf hair pin, which also to replace his last pin, which while not broken, was getting old and beat up (he’s immortal he doesn’ notice these things unless they’re like magically long lasting items lol). But in a few spots are these peach beads like this instead of all white beads, like on the ring both have symbols of longevity, and are usally associated with immortals, you wanted to make something that’d also hold memories (hence the resin, from leylines) so if the erosion ever took him, Zhongli could hold the pin and see some of his favorite memories played back (like misty glittering gold projections)! When you told him all this, the materials, (he obv knew the symbols) and the intentions, and then handed him the gift, his soft smile got bigger and bigger, until you could see him small fangs (❤️‍🔥) and then he turned around? You were confused, until he look over his shoulder, his eyes flashing gold in the sunlight, “Will you do me the honor, my Emperor?” OH- you unclip his old geo cor lapis one, and pull his hair up into more of a low bun, and put the hair piece in. the golden ginko leaves chime softly in the breeze. The old god turns back to you (idc how tall you are, he’s taller, and he had to crouch a little so you could reach lol) and gives you that blinding, beautiful smile again, the kind that makes his eyes look warm and happy. He takes your hand delicately, like you’re made of something fragile instead of stars and magic stronger than any he’s ever seen, “Truly, you bless me too generously, my Emperor. Thank you, for caring for a forgotten god like me, for caring about my heart.” …Zhongli presses a soft chaste kiss to your knuckles, right on the middle finger’s knuckle, his lips are warm and so, so soft, like they’re barely even there. <3

Yunjin = a bit difficult because she’s so theater focused in life, but you figure since she does solo shows a lot, she’ll still be the one to benefit the most from your gift, you made some floating plaustrite lanterns to help heft some platforms for more stage space/cool effects! (this but a little more detail, you painted some bamboo and a few simple adepti on them) Like putting props up there or lights to aim on actors, or even actors themselves since the floating rock is steady enough! Yunjin practically squealed (which immediately made every actor in the vicintity be like “YUNJIN!! UR VOICE WILL GO HOARSE STOP-”) and gather the whole troupe to thank you! But she especially told you that although she already intended for you to have front row seats every time you came to see her plays, she especially wanted to get some stories from your life, or even just your favorites from Earth for her to perform for you!! (she even suggested that one of the platforms could be your special seat, like an opera box seat lol)

Itto = you know that belt buckle he wears that’s just an Oni head? Yeah, you made him a second belt but with a onikabuto beetle as the buckle instead! (kinda like this) but a small enough it’s not inconvenient and poking his stomach, which you definitely got a Inazuman blacksmith to help out, you mostly painted it, and when you show Itto the belt, mans literally just wraps his buff arms around you like a hug but then just starts spinning you rapidly, and lets out the highest pitch “EEEEEEEEEEE-!!!” you’ve ever heard him make (and you’ve given him a few trinkets before, so this is a new record wow). No, it doesn’t matter to Itto how much you weigh, have you seen his abs?! He says as he’s still got you a little off the ground, and is now walking away with your limp body and wearing his new belt, “This, and a proper meal to thank you are the bare minimum, my wonderful emperor! Come on, the gang’s already there anyway, you gotta try my Granny Oni’s food, and I’ll make something too! My best, most special, sandwich, Way of the Strong!! Y’know, because if anybody deserves it, it’d be the strongest, and sweetest, you!!”

Gorou = since teyvat isn’t exactly the pinnacle of advanced civilization, though there are some advancements sure like the Kamera, there are still a fair amount of things that’re just left up to locals to produce and make using whatever process they’ve got, regardless of efficiency, and one of those is soap. Yep, soap. Earth is more advanced when it comes to beauty products, but also hygiene products, and Gorou has a hard time maintaining his tail he’s said when he’s stressed/overworked. So, you used some knowledge from your interdimensional smartphone (love u Albedo) to find a homemade recipe to make soap! (…for dogs, but you don’t know if he’d find it offensive… so you don’t tell him LMAO) and you even made it a cute shape (just so when you handed it over, he’d open it and of course, go all red all the way down his neck even, hehe, (he secretly liked it)

You towards all of Teyvat, except it's not even their birthdays (idk if u want it to be it can)

☆

PLEASE LET KNOW IF ANY LINKS/PICS ARE INACCURATE FOR A CULTURE/MISLABELED ETC.

Me after writing all this:  _」(´ཀ`」 ∠)__

… so I may have hyperfixated a little too hard on this one.

Did the OG asker want this? …probably not…

Did anyone ask for this?? …no.

…did I do it anyway….…yes.

…sorry?

(I promise I only thought to do this because there are so many characters left out in favor of the more popular ones for most SAGAU posts, and bc i never want any of my babes to feel any less loved than any others if I was actually there in Teyvat… you get… this mess.)

sorry!

☆

Safe Travels,

💀♒

☆MY BELOVEDS☆

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche

[sister-lucifer]

Talk About a Mind Fuck

Tim Wright/Masky x Ticci Toby 

A COLLAB WITH @cryptidcircuswrites ! PLEASE CHECK OUT HIS VERSION HERE! 

Genre: Gore smut 

Summary: A mission goes awry and Toby is shot straight through the skull. Tim decides to take the new hole for a spin, and Toby is more than happy to let him have it. 

Content/warnings: OHHH MY GOOOOD DONT FUCKING READ THIS IF YOU HAVE A WEAK STOMACH, Toby literally gets his brain fucked, bullet hole wound fucking, explicit gore, I cannot emphasize this enough STRAIGHT UP PENIS IN BRAIN SEX, brain creampie, guns/shooting/etc, age gap but everyone is a consenting adult, fake out death, Toby vomits a little at the end, cum leaking out of face holes it should never be in, mirror sex, rough dom top Tim, Tim bullies Toby for his trauma regarding his physically abusive father, use of homophobic language/slurs, degradation, just general nastiness, very mean spirited. NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. THIS IS AS DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT AS IT GETS.

A/N: if you skipped the warnings on this one or didn’t read them all the way, go back and fucking look at all of them, otherwise don’t read. 

Breaking and entering. 

It’s a routine for Tim and Toby at this point. 

Tim can brute force open any door, Toby can pick any lock, and both of them have long since shaken off any qualms about taking a life. They’re skilled at it now, neither of them ever leaving the cabin without their weapon of choice. In a line of work like this one, after all, you can never be too prepared. 

This was supposed to be easy. 

Three people in the house, a couple and their third wheel squatting in an abandoned vacation home. Bare bones interior, probably no weapons. 

Probably.

A lot of good ‘probably’ had done them. 

Toby had gone in while Tim stood watch in the doorway, just in case one of their targets tried to run out. His revolver fit into his palm like a glove, his grip confident and ready. He’s done this a million times before. 

Tim can only hear the altercation going on in the back rooms of the house, but he has a good idea of what’s happening. 

The sound of a hatchet coming down onto a throat. 

One down. 

A woman screams. Something knocks over, a shelf or a table. A splatter. Silence.

Two down.

A man cries out. Something hits the wall. Rogers swears. There’s a struggle. A gunshot rings out. 

…A gunshot. 

A gunshot?! 

Footsteps.

Fast, frantic footsteps coming down the hallway. 

Tim readies himself, aiming towards the dark hall with a hand that is far too steady. He’s holding his breath. The steps are getting closer. 

In a split second’s time the last target emerges from the shadows, Tim’s gaze zeroes in on the whites of his eyes and the trigger of his revolver is pulled by a swift finger one, two, then three times. 

The shots ring in his ears as the body falls limply to the floor, devoid of life in an instant. 

Three down. 

But still one bullet unaccounted for. 

“Rogers?” Tim calls into the hallway, stepping over the body without looking down. 

No answer.

“Rogers!” He says again, with more authority this time. 

Nothing. 

That little fucker runs his mouth like an engine at all hours of the day, but now he’s quiet? 

A stabbing pain of fear twists in Tim’s gut. 

Their ‘boss’ won’t let them die, he knows that. The pseudo immortality they’ve been given keeps their bodies functioning and regenerating even after some of the worst injuries one could imagine; he knows that, he’s felt it, and yet… 

This silence is sickening. 

He can’t stop himself from rushing into the makeshift bedroom, heavy boots on the creaky wood floor announcing his presence before he calls for his partner again. 

“Answer me, dammit, Rogers!” 

He looks around the room, scanning the blood splattered walls. Two bodies are slumped against them, opposite to each other, one with its neck severed and the head hanging on by a thread of viscera, and the other with half of its innards thrown to the floor. Neither are Toby, he knows that in an instant. 

Then his gaze trails to the center of the floor. 

The cold washes over him so suddenly he feels faint. He can feel the color draining from his face as he lays eyes on his partner, face down on the ground, a thick splatter of blood painting a moonlit halo around his head. 

Or what’s left of it, anyways.

A hastily fired bullet has carved a path through the boy’s skull and out the other side. 

Clean through. 

Tim’s body seizes with shock, disgust, grief, and everything in between, tensing so suddenly and so harshly he nearly passes out. A hand clamps over his mouth as it opens in a silent scream, a gasp that can’t escape because he can’t breathe. He rushes to the body before he can stop himself. 

“Rogers?! Rogers, get up!” He demands, but the way his voice cracks and trembles shows his true fear. He shakes his partner’s still body harshly, desperate to jar him into consciousness.

There’s no movement. 

Not a sound. 

Tim’s eyes start to wet behind his mask. He shakes harder, even bringing a fist down on his shoulder blade. 

Nothing. 

“This isn’t fucking funny, Toby!” Tim screams, landing a few more punches on his back, “I’ve seen you take worse than this, get up!” 

Not even a twitch. 

The realization settles in like splinters under Tim’s skin. 

He backs away from the body, the room spinning around him. He grasps at his face under his mask, his lungs starting to expand and restrict so fast it’s painful. There’s a searing panic burning the back of his skull and threatening to engulf his entire body. He stumbles back and falls onto one of the now bloodied mattresses their targets had been sleeping on. 

This isn’t happening. 

This isn’t happening. 

He’s not really gone.

He’s not really gone he’s not really gone he’s not really gone he’s not really gone he’s not really gone— 

A sudden noise makes Tim jump out of his skin, his eyes shooting up to find the source of the sound. 

Was that a…cough? 

He looks down at Toby’s body. 

It hasn’t moved. 

Maybe it was just air escaping, or some other weird thing bodies do after death. If he didn’t get up already, then he must be…

Tim nearly screams when Toby suddenly splutters and hacks, his body jerking as he fights for air. Tim is frozen in place as he watches the partner he thought was dead slowly struggle to get up, managing to get on his hands and knees. He coughs again, spitting onto the ground and groaning at the unpleasant but not unfamiliar sight of blood. 

“Yeugh…god, it’s in m-my nose,” Toby mumbles with a sniffle, wiping his face with his sleeve. He doesn’t notice Tim as he sits up on his knees, inspecting himself in a way that is far too casual.

…He has no idea what just happened. 

Tim can feel his eye twitching as he stands up slowly, his frenzied gaze trained on the younger man as he approaches. Toby looks up at the sound of the footsteps, and Tim has to stop himself from reacting to the sight. His body trembles as he forces himself to stay still. 

Toby’s right eye is completely gone. There’s not even a shred of the eyeball left, only a pulsing, bloody cavity he instantly recognizes as the entry hole of a bullet. 

Toby blinks up at Tim with his remaining eye. 

“S-Shit, I must’ve passed out when—bitch!—when h-he hit me, heh. What, you-you thought I was—grrrk!—d-dead for real?” Toby asks with a head tilt and an amused giggle. Tim’s eyes narrow. 

Slowly Tim turns his head, following the imaginary trail the bullet would have made based on where Toby fell. 

Right there, lodged into the decrepit wall right next to the doorway. 

The first bullet. 

Clean through, and out the back. 

Toby follows his gaze, squinting in the dark to see whatever it is his senior partner is seeing. 

“…O-Oh shit,” He mutters, “Talk about a-a close—don’t listen!—a close call—c-call—call me!—hehe…”

Tim stares back at him with a look in his eyes that says ‘You have no fucking idea.’

“…W-Why are you looking at me— a-at me like that?”

Tim looks around. For some reason, he’s not sure how to answer that. 

That is, until he lays eyes on a conspicuously mirror shaped object draped in a sheet and pushed into the corner.

Yeah, it’s easier to just show him.

Tim shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he walks over to the mirror, trying not to rush. He’s annoyed with Toby for scaring him like that and nearly bringing him to tears, even if it’s not really his fault. Maybe startling him a bit will take the edge off that embarrassment. 

Toby’s eye follows him closely as he walks, then watches as his hand slowly raises to grasp the sheet obscuring the mirror. His brow raises, curiosity piqued. 

The sheet is pulled away in an instant. The cloud of dust that results makes Toby cough, trying to wave it away from his face. He squints through the grimy mist, struggling to make out his own reflection in the mirror.

“L-Look, Tim, I don’t know what it-it is that you n-need me to—suck it! fuck you!—see, but I-I don’t— Oh my fucking God?!”

There it is. 

Toby crawls closer to the mirror, his remaining eye wider than Tim had ever seen it and the hole where the matching one would’ve been stretching gruesomely. 

Tim winces. Toby can’t feel it, even if he could feel pain normally all that nerve damage would make it numb, but Tim can’t stop imagining what it would feel like. 

“…Jesus Christ…” Is all Toby can manage as he looks at what remains of his face. He feels around the wound, getting far too close to touching the exposed insides for Tim’s comfort. Toby stares at himself for a long few moments. Tim can’t tell what he’s thinking. 

Then Toby turns to his partner, and to Tim’s surprise, he’s sporting the widest, most lopsided grin he’s ever seen, his crooked teeth stained with blood on one side where it runs down his cheek from the wound. Tim holds back a shudder. 

“The fuck you cheesin’ for?” Tim growls, walking around behind Toby to see him in the mirror, “You nearly got half your damn face blown off!” 

“Relax, o-old man!” Toby replies without missing a beat, “In a-a few days there won’t e-even be a— b-be a mark…”

Tim rolls his eyes behind his mask. That’s true, yes. An injury this extensive will take a bit to regenerate, but it’ll grow back like nothing happened. Still, Toby doesn’t even seem mildly disturbed. He practically saw himself die, and here he is giggling to himself and moving his face in odd ways just to see the horrid wound contort in the mirror. The quiet squelching noises it makes nearly bring Tim to vomit. 

“…You’re not even a little put off by the fact that…you know. You’re missing half your fuckin’ face?!” 

Toby lets out a sharp laugh at Tim’s outburst, amused by his clear discomfort. 

“Don’t be s-such a—bitch! bastard!— baby, I-I think it’s—asshole!—I think it’s k-kinda cool. Besides…”

He turns to look up at Tim, yellow teeth glowing in the moonlight that leaks in through the busted windows. 

“…I-I got a brand new hole f-for you to try out.” 

Tim gasps in disgust. Before he can think a hand comes up to smack Toby upside the head, though he immediately regrets it when a splatter of blood is thrown to the floor as Toby rocks forward. 

“Don’t say shit like that, you dirty fuckin’ pervert!” 

Toby nearly breaks out into hysterics at that, grabbing his sides as he laughs like a maniac. His tics increase tenfold at the sudden rush of energy, his fingers flexing unnaturally and tearing at his sweatshirt.

“H-How can I not?! You m-make it so f-fucking—fuck! funny!— fun, haha!” Toby replies, his voice cracking as his head jerks involuntarily in all directions.

Tim crosses his arms, huffing in annoyance but not sure what to say. He can feel his cheeks getting warm under his mask. He hates when Toby laughs at him. It pisses him off like nothing else. 

He stares daggers into Toby’s restless reflection as he leans into the mirror to inspect his wound again, mumbling to himself endlessly and doing his best to stay still. 

Toby’s rambling starts to fade out as Tim glares at his mirror image. He can feel something dark bubbling up inside of him, its vines sprawling out and over his body as he marinates in his thoughts. 

He thought he was gone. 

For a second there, he really thought he’d lost Toby for good.

And now here he is, without a care in the world, looking at his own fucking gunshot wound like it’s a new tattoo. 

Someone oughta teach this kid a lesson. 

Tim’s not sure what comes over him, but something, a nagging little thought has settled into his brain and taken root there. It thumps in the back of his skull like a heartbeat under the floorboards. He pulls one of his hands from its glove, looking down at his bare palm. 

“…You think this is all some joke, don’t you?” Tim mutters, forcing the words through gritted teeth. Toby doesn’t even turn to look at him. 

“W-Why are so damn u-uptight, old man? It’s not—grrrk!—it’s not like I d-died. Psuedo-immortality, r-remember?”

“But you could’ve. You know at the end of the day you can’t really trust anything that monster gives you. It would kill you in an instant if it felt threatened or betrayed.” 

“T-The fuck is your— i-is your problem?!”

Suddenly Toby isn’t all smiles anymore. His head jerks to the side violently, pulling a sickening pop from his neck. Tim is used to these mood swings, but that doesn’t stop the heavy tension that settles over the room. 

“Y-You’re always on my back about something, a-aren’t you old man?!” Toby hisses. Tim’s ungloved hand squeezes and flexes at his side. 

“You a-always got something to say about m-me, or what I—fucker! shit!—what I-I think, you can never j-just let me—“ 

Toby is cut off as a high pitched cry is violently forced from his throat, making his body spasm as it dissolves into an animalistic moan like neither of them have ever heard. It feels like every nerve in his body is seizing, splitting apart and contorting under his skin. He almost screams at the feeling, but he can’t manage it. He’s choking on nothing.

There’s a sickening squelch as something is ripped from the back of his skull, and he falls forward onto his hands, dizzy and struggling to breathe. 

“W-What…what the f-fuck…was…”

He can’t even finish the sentence between his inability to process the unnatural sensation that just overtook him and the indescribable feeling still rippling through his body. 

Slowly he cranes his neck to look back up into the mirror. Instantly his eye is locked onto Tim’s, but he isn’t looking back. He’s staring at something else. 

He follows Tim’s gaze down slowly, swallowing thickly with a sudden nervousness. His eye widens as it falls on the thing that has captivated Tim‘s gaze: 

His ungloved hand, the middle and ring fingers now dripping with blood and viscera not his own. 

No. Fucking. Way.

“Did…d-did you just…”

Tim doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t have to. 

For the first time in a long time, Toby is still. His twitching and jerking ceases, his face halts its uncomfortable wrenching; He’s still, and soundless. 

There’s a beat of silence where they both just stare at Tim’s bloodied hand, neither of them moving an inch. It’s like time has stopped in this instant. Toby can feel his heartbeat throbbing in his brain. Something in his chest is twisting and turning with a burning emotion he can’t quite place yet. 

He doesn’t even have time to process the sudden movement before Tim has plunged his fingers into the wound once again. 

This time Toby is forced to watch his reflection in the mirror as Tim violates the gorey cavity, thick digits rooting around inside his head and shooting a new sensation through him with every touch. His entire body stiffens, his mouth falling open involuntarily as he loses control of it. He can feel his senses being reduced to mush as he groans, the endless sound falling from his lips in unintelligible waves. It’s mindless, desperate babbling, but he can’t do anything else. 

Toby watches the depraved scene in the mirror until his eye starts to roll back in his head, further than it should be able to. Tim watches the hazel iris recede until only white is left. Only then does he finally give some reprieve, yanking his hand back and shaking off the chunks that come with it.

Toby’s head bows towards the ground as he catches his breath, his entire body rocking as he heaves desperately for air. He’s too preoccupied to notice the way Tim is leering down at him, his breathing now hot and labored. 

“…How did that feel?” 

Toby sneers at the question, not looking up. 

“H-How did it feel?! You’re d-digging around—shhhh!— in m-my fucking brain, d-dipshit, how do you— d-do you think it f-feels?!”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. I know it doesn’t hurt, so how does it feel?” 

For some reason, Toby doesn’t have an answer to that. He wants to snap back with something witty and biting, to tell him it feels like Hell and back and if he doesn’t stop he’ll scatter his brains next, but…

That wouldn’t be the total truth. 

“…It…I-It feels…” He stammers, unable to find the words. He sits back up on his knees, locking eyes with his partner in the mirror. Tim is silent. He’s anticipating the rest of that sentence. Toby thinks for a moment, a series of tongue clicks in an odd rhythm sounding as he pauses. 

“…It…I-It wasn’t bad, if that’s w-what you’re looking for.” 

Tim’s breath hitches. 

Only Toby could hear a sound so small, yet so telling. 

He has to push this further.

“A-Actually it was kind of…k-kind of good, y-you know? I-I don’t know—rrrngh!—how to explain it, but i-it just…it’s like n-nothing I’ve ever f-felt or imagined, I-I—“

Toby cuts himself off with a gasp as Tim grasps his hair tightly. His other hand moves to his belt. The sound of the metal buckle makes Toby shiver. 

Tim leans down a bit, speaking lowly to his partner. 

“Keep talking.” 

Toby’s stomach flips. 

Tim’s not giving him a choice.

“I-It’s like…fuck, it’s l-like every muscle in my— in my b-body is spasming like c-crazy,” Toby continues, watching with crazed eyes as Tim slides the belt from its loops. He grits his teeth as it clatters to the ground. 

He doesn’t want this to stop. 

He has to keep going. 

“I-It’s like f-fire under my skin, b-but I can’t feel t-the burn…” 

Tim’s hand moves to the fly of his jeans. 

“…I-I lose all control of m-my body, I can’t—fuck off!—I-I can’t even think, i-it just all turns i-into gibberish…”

Tim tugs down his zipper, and Toby can see his twitching bulge straining against his boxers. 

“…It’s l-like I can feel myself l-losing my mind, and I c-can’t do anything— d-do anything about it, I c-can’t even p-put—put it back! put it back!—put together a sentence…”

Tim hooks a thumb under the waistband of his boxers. He starts to push them down. 

“…F-Fuck, Tim, I-I wanna feel it again.” 

Toby clamps a hand over his mouth to stifle the moan that threatens to break free as he watches Tim’s erection spring free from the confines of his clothes. He’s thick and uncut, throbbing with rabid need. Toby shudders as his partner lets out a relieved groan, breathing hard under his mask. 

“S-Shit, Tim…y-your—your cock! your cock!—n-no! I mean you’re—your cock! your cock! fat cock!—dammit! I-I didn’t mean to s-say that—!”

“I’m taking you up on your offer, Rogers…” Tim growls, cutting off Toby’s attempt to explain himself. He grabs Toby’s head with both hands, fingers digging into the front of his wound on one side and the gash in his cheek on the other. This time Toby doesn’t bother to stop the moan that crawls up his throat as he feels Tim’s cock rut against the back of his head.

“…I wanna give this new hole of yours a proper fucking. What do you say?”

Toby can’t see Tim’s mouth, but he can tell he’s smiling from the way his eyes crinkle at the corners behind his mask. Toby groans at the thought. He can’t stop the crooked grin that spreads across his pale face like butter on a hot pan.

“P…P-Please, Tim,” He whispers, and he knows he’s hit a nerve when he feels Tim‘s grip tighten for a moment.

“…Please what, Rogers?” 

He figured he wouldn’t get it that easy. 

“Please, Tim,” Toby continues, sucking in  a breath and swallowing his pride, “I-I want you t-to fuck me, please—“ 

Tim ruts against the back of his head again, barely brushing his wound. He wants more.

“P-Please, fuck, I-I’m—need! give it!—I’m begging you! I need it, I-I need you to fuck m-my brains out, please!” 

Tim shifts his hips. He’s lining up at the opening. 

It’s working. 

“Please, please, p-please, Tim, I-I want you to f-fuck my brain! I n-need to—fffuck! fuck! fuck!—I need t-to feel it! Please, dammit, j-just fucking—!”

Toby doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. 

Tim shoves himself inside the bloody cavity without warning, forcing Toby’s brain out of the way as his cock enters. The scream that rocks Toby’s body is as lustful as it is carnal and gruesome. He reaches up on instinct and grabs Tim’s wrists, not trying to pull his hands away but holding on for dear life before he loses the ability to move at all. 

“You broke so easy,” Tim sneers as he bottoms out, talking over Toby’s uncontrollable moaning, “What would the others think if they saw you begging for dick like a whore on the street? Huh?!”

He punctuates his sentence with a sudden rut of his hips, making Toby yelp and his body jerk. His nails dig into Tim’s arms, and the pain is delicious. 

Tim studies the scene before him in the mirror. 

It’s disgusting. It’s horrid. He can see the tip of his leaking cock resting inside his partner’s skull. 

He doesn’t want this to end. 

He’s going to relish this opportunity, every sickening moment of it. 

“What would they think…”

Tim starts to pull back, breath trembling at the slick noises from the movement.

“…If they knew I had you whining for me like a dirty fuckin’ sissy?!”

He pushes back in with even more force than before. Blood is forced out the front of the wound, dripping down Toby’s face and onto the floor, leaving a red trail on his skin. His meaningless babbling is music to Tim’s ears.

Again Tim pulls back, faster this time, and pushes in again. He watches Toby’s face in the mirror as he finds his rhythm, completely enamored as it contorts with overwhelming sensations that no human should ever experience. His mouth is hanging completely open, his tongue limp and lying against his chin as he pants and wails desperately like a dog in heat. He’s starting to drool from the lack of muscle control.

There’s something about watching Toby quite literally lose his mind at his hand that makes Tim feel like God. 

“You know, I like you a lot better when you can’t run your mouth,” Tim says with a chuckle. He digs his fingers into the front of the wound, groping around in the cavity and feeling the pulsing meat shift under the pads of his fingertips.

“You’re lucky I’m not gonna tell anyone about this, not gonna tell the others you’re a nasty fuckin’ faggot who’s so desperate for dick you’d take it in your brain…at least someone’s finally making use of the lump of meat in your head, eh?!”

He pulls Toby’s skull back on his cock hard and fast, fucking into the hole with more fervor than he thought possible. His arms are bleeding now from where Toby’s nails are digging in, his knuckles locked up as his motor function is ripped to shreds. 

Tim’s eyes trail down the reflection as he thrusts, down to Toby’s body and stopping at the tent in his pants. There’s a painfully obvious stain on his groin now where his erection is straining against the denim of his jeans with wretched need. His precum is leaking through the material in viscous waves, a constant stream of shameful arousal. It looks like it hurts, like his zipper is about to burst, but Tim has no interest in granting him even that small mercy of freeing his hard-on. 

“Damn,” He mumbles to himself, watching the liquid pool where the tip of his partner’s cock pushes against his pants, “You really are enjoying this, aren’t you? You’re not just tolerating it to see how far I’ll go, you’re getting off on this shit! You’re a dirty fuckin’ boy slut!” 

He’s getting mean, meaner than he really needs to be, but he doesn’t care. Toby might not even be able to hear him, and even if he can, Tim’s not going to waste this chance while his partner can’t snap back. 

He ruts his hips more intentionally, trying to hit every spot he can. He’s catching on to patterns, that certain touches here or there make Toby twitch or jerk or yelp involuntarily. His eye has rolled back in his head almost completely. It looks agonizing, and it only makes Tim thrust faster. 

“Then again, in that messed up little mind of yours I bet this is nothing. You’re so used to gettin’ beat on this practically soft to you, ain’t it?! Or did your old man slam your head into the concrete too many times for you to know the damn difference?!” 

Tim’s practically screaming at him now, drool running down his chin and neck as he loses himself to the pleasure. It’s unbearably hot under his mask, but he can’t bring himself to release his death grip on Toby’s head to take it off. 

“I should’ve put you in your place a long time ago, lord knows you’ve needed it for who knows how long!” 

Tim angles his hips upward a bit, brushing against a certain spot that makes Toby tense and cry out suddenly. The thing Tim notices most, though, is the way Toby’s cock twitches in his pants. It spurts just a bit, not climaxing yet but getting dangerously close. The stain on the front of his pants is only growing with each passing second that Tim violates his brain.

“Oh, you really are disgusting,” Tim huffs, “You’re really about to cum in your pants, and I haven’t even touched your cock? That’s pathetic, Rogers.”

Tim angles his hips up again just to watch the precum gush from his partner’s tip, his stomach flipping in his gut at the thought that Toby is so, so damn close, but he can’t beg for more or touch himself or even move at all. 

“Nngh…Like hell I’m gonna let a little bitch boy like you cum first, though.” 

He takes a moment to adjust his grip. He’s preparing for the last stretch. 

The speed of his thrusting increases tenfold, completely losing all sense of rhythm. He can feel the pleasure taking him over, melting his resolve and screaming at him to go, go, go, just keeping going, go until you can’t anymore, and that’s exactly what he intends to do. 

“You better take all of my cum, Rogers,” Tim growls through gritted teeth, “Though I ain’t exactly giving you a choice, am I? You’ll take it whether you like it or not…” 

He hasn’t looked away from Toby’s face in the mirror. The sight of it twitching and frozen in a state of screaming ecstasy is like a horrific work of art. Tim’s never going to forget it. He won’t forget any of this. Every second is burned into his brain, and he’s more than happy to keep it that way.

The gory cavity is carved into the shape of Tim’s cock by now, each thrust only feeding the growing puddle of blood and viscera on the ground below Toby. That stain will stay there forever, Tim thinks. A permanent reminder of the debauchery the two of them are so gleefully partaking in. The idea of someone else finding this old house scattered with bodies, walking around and not even knowing the half of what these walls have been subjected to…

God, that’s good. 

The knot in Tim’s stomach starts to tighten. 

He can’t hold on for much longer. Neither can Toby. 

Tim angles his hips in that special way again, hitting that sensitive spot over and over and over again with each frenzied thrust. Toby’s practically soaking himself now, so close to the edge but not quite close enough to fall off, though he runs the risk with each passing second. It’s barely a matter of time. 

Faster, faster, faster, that’s the only thing Tim can think. 

More, more, more, that’s all he can think about.

Faster, faster, faster, more, more, more, more, more more more moremoremore—

“Shit!” 

Suddenly Tim throws his head back with a wild noise, his cock releasing without warning into the bloody cavity he’s been so graciously desecrating. At the same time he brushes that spot again, and it’s finally enough to give Toby his release, too, only a second later. His cum soaks the front of his now completely ruined jeans, the shameful stain running down his groin and thighs. The scream he lets out as his climax rocks his body will haunt Tim’s dreams. 

Tim’s thrusting doesn’t slow to a stop until it feels like his balls are empty. Only then does he finally go still, allowing himself to breathe. He looks up at the ceiling as he pants, letting his eyes flutter closed for a moment as his orgasm gradually washes away.

Finally Tim allows his fingers to unfurl, releasing Toby as he pulls his cock from his ruined skull. It comes back soaked in blood and sticky with viscera, taking a few chunks with it. He tries to step back, but Toby’s still gripping his wrists.

He manages to shake him off, only for Toby’s body to go completely limp and fall forward, face first onto the dusty wood floor and into the puddle of mixed bodily fluids. He twitches a bit, but doesn’t move or show any signs of life beyond that. Anyone else would think he’s dead. 

“I’m not falling for that again,” Tim mumbles with an eye roll, using his discarded glove to wipe off his now flaccid cock before tucking it back into his boxers and zipping up his pants. 

He crouches over Toby, grabbing his hair and forcing him up from the floor back onto his knees. All Toby can manage is a pathetic groan. Tim studies his partner’s fucked-out face in the mirror for a moment, watching as the blood and seed lazily roll down his cheek and chin. He can’t help but chuckle to himself.

“…Anything to say for yourself?” Tim asks teasingly, shaking him a bit.

The only response he gets is the sound of gagging as Toby retches. Tim barely moves back in time to watch him cough up a horrible concoction of blood, cum, and God knows what else without being in the splash zone. 

“Goddammit, watch it!” Tim scolds cruelly, “If you hurl on my new boots I’m leaving you like this.” 

He at least has the decency to let Toby finish before scooping up his limp, helpless body. He carries him under his arm like a log, not taking any care to be gentle.

“I’ll get you back home to Eyeless,” Tim mutters, “He doesn’t ask too many questions, and he’ll patch you up good ‘til you’re all healed…” 

Tim tries not to think too hard as he carries his partner out of the house, away from the crime scene and into the endless wooded darkness. 

All is quiet for a moment, save for the sound of Tim’s heavy steps on the dry leaves. That is, until what Tim thinks is a muffled giggle sounds from his partner. He stops and looks back, but there’s no more noise. 

Dammit, he thinks. 

Neither of us are going to be forgetting this. 

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

[drarry-mini-bang]

Fest rules

What is this fest about?

Drarry Mini Bang is a collaborative fest in which writers and artists come together to create fanwork. The writers will submit their detailed concept for a fic, and artists will claim one or several (up to you!) to create an art piece.

Who can participate?

You must be at least 18 years old at time of signing up.

We also expect you to treat everyone taking part, including the mods, with respect. 

All work must be your own, and we do not allow any kind of fic or art produced with AI.

You may register as both a writer and an artist, but due to the collaborative nature of this event, you cannot make art for your own fic. All the matching will be done through the claiming process, therefore we will not allow pre-made collabs between artists and writers.

What are the requirements for writers? 

Writers will need to write an original fic of at least 10k.

The fic needs to be a stand-alone, unpublished fic. You will be asked to submit your fic concept with an estimated word count, a list of tags and possible warnings/triggers and the rating of your fic. If any of these details change after you’ve submitted your concept and before preview day, you need to let the mods know asap. If something changes after the teams have been announced, please talk to your partner and let the mods know if there are any issues.

Please do not share details of your fic before you are matched with an artist. You can share small snippets and talk about your story after the teams have been formed.

Your fic must be complete and has to be beta read before the submission deadline. Should you need an extension, please let us know as soon as you can.

When you fill in your sign up form, you will be given a chance to decide what type of art you would like to receive for your story.

We will cap writers at 25 participants, but we will open sign ups for pinch hitters. We will try our best to find everyone an artist to work with, but due to the collaborative nature of this event, should we not have enough artists, the people whose fics have not been picked might have to be dropped.

What are the requirements for artists?

You can create a variety of original fan work based on the story your writer is working on:

- illustrations, both digital and traditional (they don’t need to be in colour) 

- moodboards (at least 6 elements)

- plastic arts (including embroidery and origami)

- playlists (a minimum of 10 songs)

- fic binding

- podfic

We will ask you to create a minimum of one art piece based on the story your writer is working on. If you would like to work with more than one writer (which would make us extremely happy), please let us know in your sign-up form.

There is no cap for artists.

What kind of rating is allowed?

Any rating is allowed for both art and fics, but please tag your work appropriately. 

We support SALS (ship and let ship) YKINMKBYKIO (your kink is not my kink, but your kink is okay) and DLDR (don’t like – don’t read), so we will not tolerate any shaming. 

For this fest, we will not accept any works that contain darker themes or tropes that are usually covered by the "Dead Dove" tag. If you have any doubts about specific content and would like to know if it will be accepted, please do not hesitate to contact us.

If your work is rated Mature or Explicit, the characters involved must be at least 18 years old (Hogwarts 8th year fic are therefore acceptable with any rating).

What is the schedule for posting?

Sign ups open for writers and artists: 20th January

Sign ups close: 18th February

Deadline for fic concepts and details to be submitted by writers: 18th February

Fic concepts sent to artists: 24th February

Artists claim: 27th February

Teams announced: 2nd-6th March 

First check-in: 6th April

Second check-in: 11th May

Last check-in: 8th June 

Submissions due: 2nd July 

Posting begins: August 

Do I need to keep my creation secret?

You can share your WIPs only after the teams have been announced.

This fest is not anonymous.

What if my partner ghosts me or is being rude?

Please let us know and we’ll speak to them. This is a collaborative event - ignoring your partner causes unnecessary stress and anxiety, and we will not tolerate any rudeness or abuse.

We also ask that you stick to deadlines, because we don’t want anyone to be let down and end up without a partner. If you think at any point during the fest that you need to drop out, please please please let us know as soon as you can, so that we can find someone to replace you.

I still have a lot of questions about this, how can I contact you?

Send us an ask, a DM or contact us at  and we will gladly answer.

Your mods @orange-peony, @pato-roldnart, @bubble-gumhead

[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

What is Simon 'Ghost' Riley actually like in a relationship (according to me)

A/N: I know this isn't anything like the things I usually write fics about but if I don't get this out of my system, I will spontaneously combust into flames from thought overload. There is a lot of great fics about him out there, 100%, but there is a steamy pile of garbage as well which makes Simon "an abusive asshole" to quote a TikTok I recently saw - and I couldn't agree more. So, here is my soft take on this tough guy and I hope you can enjoy reading this despite it being pretty far away from everything else on this blog.

Warnings: mentions of torture, violence, weapons, PTSD, profanity, explicit sexual themes but also so much fluff and softness

A/N pt. 2: I base this on Ghost's backstory according to the comic books as well as the video games but this is just my take so if you imagined him differently, that is totally valid!

* * *

Firstly and most importantly, Simon is a very different in his private life compared to his work; meaning he is good at separating the violent side of his work life from the life he has with you.

He must be the softest, the most gentle person there is when he is with you. I think he is very shy in the beginning as well as in early relationship given how his father treated him growing up. It is not that Simon wouldn't trust you, it's more that he would not trust himself. After all, after the Manuel Roba operation, he was tortured for months and came out with severe anger issues.

However, he was able to resolve this when he re-joined the military and engaged therapy but the scars remained: both mental as well as physical.

The reason why Ghost never takes off his mask is because of the scars Vernon and the lot left on his face (and the rest of his body). They are healed now but whenever he sees them in the mirror, he is reminded of everything he has been through, especially the loss of his family.

After Simon had told you why he keeps his mask on even in private life, at least the bottom part, you would not mind it as much but you would also reassure him that the way you feel about him could never be changed by some scars.

Needless to say, Simon would be very, very protective of you. He has lost everyone he has ever loved and cared about and he would never allow the same happen with you. It must be said though that Simon is not possessive. He above all knows the importance of freedom, especially when it comes to making choices about yourself and your comfort.

Still, Simon would face some control issues when you'd go out on your own. At work, he is used to being in charge of everybody, making sure everyone is safe and manning their positions. But with you, he needs to remind himself you are not going to war but just out with your friends, out grocery shopping, out to the library or somewhere. The thought of losing you drives him insane. He could never forgive himself if it happened when he could be by your side instead.

It goes without saying though that Simon prefers the comfort of his home to just about any other place. Clubs give him anxiety and the loud music triggers his PTSD, bars and restaurants are okay here and there but there is no place like home.

He does enjoy hiking and walking with you though.

Simon is romantic by heart so picnics in the nature would be his go-to dates. A bottle of wine, cheese and olives, a blanket in a spot with a view... You'd trace his features gently with the tip of your finger; the curve of his nose, his lips where he'd take your hand in his and kissed it softly as you would lay together in a secluded spot somewhere.

Bonus: when you decide to go home, Simon would never let you help carry any of the things he'd brought. Maybe the blanket but everything else, he'd pile up in his massive arms and carry them all the way home while barely seeing over the heap.

When it comes to sex, Simon would be just as reserved as with taking off his mask in the beginning. He would need much assurance from you that you really wanted to be with him intimately before trying anything.

Contrary to popular belief, Simon would never do anything that could even remotely hurt you when you had sex (or otherwise). On the one hand, he is well aware of his size and strength, and on the other, it is his childhood trauma that keeps him from trying anything that could potentially hurt you (even choking, spanking, etc. is not something he is comfortable with) even if you'd ask him to experiment.

Simon has seen, felt and inflicted too much violence in his life to have it included in his love life as well. All he wants to do is make you feel safe and loved especially when you have sex because this is one of the ways he expresses his love to you.

His sex drive is not that high but when you do have sex, he likes to make it special and intimate. Simon is very serious about it and wants you to enjoy yourself more than anything. To be honest, just seeing you climax causes him do the same.

He enjoys going down on your very much; the intimacy, the softness of your moans, his arms locked around your thighs when his fingers are not intertwined with yours.

Simon's favourite part though is the aftercare. He loves cuddling with you. Physical touch is yet another of his love languages although he was very reserved in the beginning of the relationship.

He is the big spoon the majority of time but sometimes (his favourite) Simon lays his head on your chest, wraps his arms around your waist and lets you play with his hair. He can fall asleep almost instantly.

It cannot be stressed enough that Simon never ever EVER raises his voice at you. Even when you are having an argument (which is not often), he never yells much less gets violent in any way.

He is a great listener and despite not saying much a lot of the time, Simon communicates well although he struggles very much to word his feelings.

After an argument or just for no particular occasion at all, Simon gets you flowers (a lot) - and different kinds every time. Another way for Simon to apologize is to cook for you. He is not very good at it but it is the effort that counts.

When he is away on a mission, Simon calls you a lot just to hear your voice, especially when he is too stressed to fall asleep. Your voice calms him down and help him get some rest but also reassures him you are alright whilst he is not there to keep you safe.

Simon likes to listen about your day, your feelings and your ideas. It keeps his mind far away from dark places. But every now and again, he would trust you with a fragment of his memories when his thoughts are just too loud. You know how precious and how rare it is that Simon opens up to you.

You don't say anything when he talks about his memories and his family but you always hold his hand, brushing your thumb across his calloused knuckles or drawing gentle shapes against his broad back.

You pepper his skin with soft kisses when his voice quietens and lead his head to rest against your chest as you pet his hair.

He likes to listen to you sing too, even if your voice is not the greatest. Even just humming a random melody and feeling your chest vibrate softly beneath his cheek will ease his heart.

Random bonus: Simon drinks English breakfast, no cream and one cube of sugar and has an occasional cigarette with it (Marlboro).