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pucksandpower · 1 month

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Until Next Time

Max Verstappen x Reader

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

Mycenae, 1208 BC

The sun beats down mercilessly on the marble steps of the temple. You stand at the top, your white chiton billowing in the warm breeze. Your eyes scan the crowd gathered below, searching for one face among the sea of onlookers.

“Where is he?” You whisper, your heart pounding.

A firm hand grips your shoulder. “It’s time, princess,” your father’s voice rumbles behind you.

You turn to face him, eyes pleading. “Father, please. This can’t be the only way.”

The king’s face is a mask of stone, but his eyes betray a flicker of sorrow. “The gods have spoken. We must obey.”

As he speaks, a commotion erupts at the base of the temple steps. Your breath catches in your throat as you spot Max pushing through the crowd, his face contorted with desperation.

“No!” He shouts, his voice carrying over the murmur of the crowd. “You can’t do this!”

Two guards grab him, restraining his arms as he struggles against their grip.

“Let me go!” Max yells, his eyes locking with yours. “She’s innocent! Take me instead!”

You start to move towards him, but your father’s grip tightens. “Don’t,” he warns.

“Max,” you call out, your voice breaking. “It’s okay. This is my duty.”

Max shakes his head violently. “No, it’s not! This is madness!”

The high priest approaches, his ornate robes rustling as he walks. “The sacrifice must be made,” he intones. “The gods demand it.”

You feel a chill run down your spine despite the heat. The priest’s eyes are cold as he regards you.

“Please,” Max begs, still struggling against the guards. “There has to be another way. Let me speak to the oracle. Maybe-”

“Silence!” The priest snaps. “The decision has been made. The princess will ensure a bountiful harvest for our people.”

You swallow hard, trying to steady your voice. “Max, listen to me. I need you to be strong.”

His struggles subside slightly as he focuses on your words.

“Remember what we talked about?” You continue. “About the stars?”

Max’s brow furrows in confusion for a moment before his eyes widen in recognition. “The cycle,” he breathes.

You nod, forcing a smile. “This isn’t the end. We’ll find each other again. I promise.”

“No,” Max shakes his head, tears streaming down his face. “I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

The priest clears his throat impatiently. “We must proceed.”

Your father gently guides you towards the altar. You resist the urge to look back at Max, knowing it will only make this harder.

“Wait!” Max calls out. “Just ... just let me say goodbye. Please.”

The king hesitates, then nods to the guards. They release Max, who rushes up the steps towards you.

He reaches you, cupping your face in his hands. “I love you,” he whispers fiercely. “In this life and every life to come.”

You lean into his touch, memorizing the feeling of his skin against yours. “I love you too. Always.”

Max’s lips crash into yours, desperate and salty with tears. For a moment, the world fades away, and it’s just the two of you.

Then rough hands are pulling you apart. Max struggles, but the guards drag him back down the steps.

“No!” He roars. “You can’t do this! She’s everything to me!”

You force yourself to look away, focusing on the altar before you. The priest approaches, a gleaming dagger in his hand.

“Oh great gods,” he begins to chant. “Accept this offering and bless our lands.”

You close your eyes, trying to block out Max’s anguished cries. You think of stars, of cycles, of promises of reunion.

The dagger plunges, and pain explodes through your body. As darkness creeps in at the edges of your vision, you hear Max’s voice, raw with grief.

“I’ll find you,” he vows. “In the next life, and the next, and the next. We’ll be together again. I swear it.”

As your consciousness fades, you cling to that promise. This isn’t the end, you tell yourself. It’s just the beginning of a much longer story.

Your last thought before the world goes black is of Max’s eyes, filled with love and determination. Somehow, you know that this is not goodbye — it’s just until next time.

London, 1542

The heavy oak door of your chambers creaks open, and you look up from your embroidery, heart leaping at the sight of Max slipping inside. His eyes dart nervously around the room before settling on you.

“My lady,” he whispers urgently, crossing the room in quick strides. “We must speak.”

You set aside your needlework, rising to meet him. “What is it? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

He takes your hands in his, his touch sending a familiar thrill through you despite the gravity in his expression. “It’s worse than that, I’m afraid. I’ve heard whispers in the court ...”

Your breath catches. “What kind of whispers?”

Max’s jaw clenches. “Accusations. Terrible ones. They’re saying you’ve been unfaithful to the king.”

You gasp, shaking your head vehemently. “That’s absurd! I would never-”

“I know,” Max interrupts, squeezing your hands. “But the truth matters little when it comes to Henry’s jealousy. You know how he is.”

A chill runs down your spine as you remember the fate of the king’s previous wives. “What am I to do?”

Max’s eyes blaze with determination. “We’ll run away. Tonight. I have friends who can help us reach the coast. From there, we can sail to France or-”

The sound of heavy footsteps in the corridor cuts him off. You both freeze, staring at the door in mounting dread.

“Quick,” you hiss, pushing Max towards a tapestry-covered alcove. “Hide!”

He resists for a moment. “I won’t leave you-”

“You must,” you insist. “If they find you here, it will only make things worse.”

Reluctantly, Max ducks behind the tapestry just as the door bursts open. The king’s guards pour in, led by Thomas Cromwell himself.

“My lady,” Cromwell says with a cold smile. “I’m afraid you must come with us.”

You lift your chin, summoning every ounce of royal dignity. “On what grounds, Lord Cromwell?”

His smile doesn’t waver. “Treason, my lady. His Majesty has evidence of your ... indiscretions.”

“That’s impossible,” you protest. “I’ve been nothing but faithful to the king.”

Cromwell gestures to the guards. “Search the room. Thoroughly.”

Your heart pounds as they begin tearing through your belongings. You silently pray that Max remains hidden and undetected.

“This is outrageous,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I demand to speak to the king himself.”

“His Majesty has no desire to see you,” Cromwell replies. “The evidence speaks for itself.”

One of the guards approaches, holding a folded piece of parchment. “My lord, we found this hidden in her jewelry box.”

Cromwell snatches it, his eyes scanning the contents. His smirk widens. “Well, well. A love letter, it seems. Quite damning, wouldn’t you agree?”

You shake your head in disbelief. “That’s not mine. I’ve never seen it before!”

“A poor defense, my lady,” Cromwell tuts. “Come now, we mustn’t keep the Tower waiting.”

As the guards move to seize you, Max bursts from his hiding place. “Stop!” He shouts. “She’s innocent!”

Cromwell’s eyebrows raise in mock surprise. “And who might you be, young man?”

Max stands tall, his gaze unwavering. “I can vouch for the queen’s innocence.”

“Can you now?” Cromwell’s tone is dangerously soft. “And how, pray tell, would you know such a thing?”

You see the trap too late. “Max, don’t-”

But he’s already speaking. “Because I’ve been watching over her. Protecting her. I would know if she had been unfaithful.”

Cromwell’s eyes glitter with triumph. “Watching over her, you say? How ... intimate. Guards, seize him as well.”

“No!” You cry out as the guards grab Max. “He’s done nothing wrong!”

“On the contrary,” Cromwell replies. “He’s just confessed to an inappropriate relationship with the queen. That’s treason, my dear.”

Max struggles against the guards. “It’s not like that! I love her, yes, but we’ve never-”

“Enough!” Cromwell snaps. “Take them both to the Tower. His Majesty will decide their fate.”

As the guards drag you from the room, your eyes meet Max’s. In that moment, a strange sense of déjà vu washes over you. You’ve been here before, somehow. Torn apart by forces beyond your control.

“It’s happening again,” Max says softly, his eyes wide with realization.

You nod, a sad smile touching your lips. “The cycle continues.”

“What are you two babbling about?” Cromwell demands.

Neither of you answer. What could you say that he would understand?

As you’re led through the winding corridors of the palace, Max’s voice carries to you. “I’ll find a way to save you. I swear it.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you call back, your voice catching.

“I kept the last one, didn’t I?” He replies. “I found you again.”

Memories flood your mind — hazy images of another life, another time. A temple, a sacrifice, a vow made in desperation.

“So you did,” you whisper.

The journey to the Tower passes in a blur. Before you know it, you’re being locked in a cold, damp cell. Through the small barred window, you can see the executioner’s block in the courtyard below.

Days pass. You pace your cell, alternating between fear and a strange sense of calm. This isn’t the end, you remind yourself. Somehow, you know it to be true.

When they come for you, you hold your head high. As you’re led to the block, you scan the crowd, searching for Max’s face. You spot him, restrained by guards, his face a mask of anguish.

“I love you,” he mouths.

“Until next time,” you reply silently.

As you kneel at the block, you close your eyes. You think of stars and cycles, of promises kept across lifetimes. The axe falls, and darkness descends.

Your last conscious thought is a mixture of sorrow and hope. This chapter may be ending, but your story with Max is far from over. In another time, another place, you’ll find each other again. The wheel turns, and the cycle continues.

Florence, 1633

The flickering candlelight casts long shadows across the cluttered study. You pace nervously, your skirts swishing against the worn floorboards. Max hunches over his desk, quill scratching furiously across parchment.

“Max,” you plead, “please reconsider. It’s not too late to recant.”

He looks up, his eyes bright with fervor. “I can’t, my love. The truth is too important.”

You move to his side, resting a hand on his shoulder. “More important than your life?”

Max covers your hand with his, his touch warm and familiar. “Some truths are worth dying for.”

“And what about living for?” You counter. “What about us?”

He stands, pulling you into an embrace. “Everything I do, I do for us. For a world where we can live freely, without the shackles of ignorance.”

You bury your face in his chest, inhaling his scent of ink and parchment. “I fear those shackles are stronger than you think.”

A sharp knock at the door makes you both jump. Max moves to answer it, but you grab his arm.

“Don’t,” you whisper. “It could be them.”

Max’s jaw sets stubbornly. “If it is, hiding won’t change anything.”

He strides to the door and throws it open. A young man stands there, panting heavily.

“Master,” he gasps. “They’re coming. The Inquisition. You must flee!”

Max’s face pales, but his voice remains steady. “Thank you for the warning, Giovanni. You should go before they arrive.”

The young man nods and disappears into the night. Max turns to you, his expression grim.

“You should go too,” he says softly. “There’s no reason for both of us to face their wrath.”

You shake your head fiercely. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Please,” Max implores. “I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you because of me.”

“And I couldn’t bear to abandon you,” you retort. “We’re in this together, remember?”

A ghost of a smile touches Max’s lips. “Always.”

You help him gather his most important papers and instruments, working quickly in the oppressive silence. As Max secures the last of his writings, you hear the ominous sound of marching feet approaching.

“It’s too late,” you breathe.

Max squares his shoulders. “Then we face them with dignity.”

The door bursts open, and armored men pour into the small study. At their head is Cardinal Bellarmine, his face a mask of righteous anger.

“Apostate,” he intones. “You stand accused of heresy against the Holy Church.”

Max steps forward, his voice calm. “I stand accused of seeking the truth, Your Eminence.”

The Cardinal’s eyes narrow. “You spread dangerous lies. You claim the Earth is not the center of God’s creation!”

“I claim only what the evidence suggests,” Max counters. “The movements of the heavens themselves tell us-”

“Blasphemy!” Bellarmine roars. “You would elevate your flawed observations above the word of God?”

You can’t stay silent any longer. “My lord Cardinal, surely God gave us minds to seek understanding. How can the pursuit of knowledge be heresy?”

Bellarmine’s gaze snaps to you. “And who is this who dares to question the Church’s judgment?”

Max steps protectively in front of you. “Leave her out of this. She’s done nothing wrong.”

“She defends a heretic,” the Cardinal sneers. “That alone is cause for suspicion.”

You feel a chill run down your spine, but you stand your ground. “I defend a good man who seeks only to understand the wonders of God’s creation.”

Bellarmine waves dismissively. “Take them both. We’ll sort out her involvement later.”

As the guards move to seize you, Max erupts into action. He grabs a heavy tome from his desk and hurls it at the nearest guard, then pushes you towards the window.

“Run!” He shouts. “I’ll hold them off!”

You hesitate, torn between fleeing and staying by his side. In that moment of indecision, a guard grabs you roughly by the arm.

“No!” Max cries out, lunging towards you.

Another guard intercepts him, slamming the butt of his halberd into Max’s stomach. He crumples to the ground, gasping for air.

“Stop!” You plead. “We’ll come peacefully. Just don’t hurt him.”

Bellarmine smirks. “A wise decision. Though I’m afraid it’s too late for leniency.”

As the guards bind your hands, you lock eyes with Max. There’s a strange, sad recognition in his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I thought this time would be different.”

You shake your head, a bittersweet smile on your lips. “It’s not your fault. It never is.”

Bellarmine looks between you, confusion evident on his face. “What nonsense is this?”

Neither of you answer.

You’re led from the study, through the torch-lit streets to the forbidding walls of the Inquisition’s headquarters. As you’re separated and thrown into different cells, Max’s voice carries to you.

“I’ll find you again. I swear it.”

“In this life or the next,” you call back, your voice breaking.

Days blur together in your dank cell. You’re questioned relentlessly about Max’s work, about your involvement. You reveal nothing, clinging to the hope that your silence might somehow spare him.

When they finally come for you, you know it’s not good news. You’re led to a small courtyard where a pyre has been erected. Your heart sinks as you see Max already tied to the stake, his face bruised but defiant.

“Heathen,” Bellarmine proclaims, “you have been found guilty of heresy. Do you repent your sins?”

Max’s eyes find yours in the crowd. “My only sin,” he says clearly, “is loving truth more than dogma.”

The Cardinal’s face darkens. “Then may God have mercy on your soul. Light the pyre.”

As the flames begin to lick at Max’s feet, you can’t contain yourself any longer. You break free from your guards and run towards the pyre.

“No!” You scream. “Max!”

He looks at you, his eyes full of love and sorrow. “Until next time, my love. We’ll get it right someday.”

The guards grab you, dragging you back as the flames engulf Max. His agonized cries pierce the air, but his gaze never leaves yours.

As the light fades from his eyes, you feel a piece of your soul shatter. But deep within, a tiny spark of hope remains. This isn’t the end, you tell yourself. It can’t be.

Somewhere, somewhen, you’ll find each other again. The wheel turns, the cycle continues, and your love endures beyond death itself.

Atlantic Ocean, 1912

The grand ballroom of the Titanic thrums with life, an orchestra playing a lively waltz as couples twirl across the polished floor. You stand at the edge of the crowd, your gloved hands fidgeting with your beaded gown. Your eyes scan the room, searching for one face in particular.

“Looking for someone?” A familiar voice asks behind you.

You turn, a smile lighting up your face as you see Max, dashing in his tailored suit. “There you are! I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost.”

Max grins, offering you his arm. “Even on a ship this size? Never. Though I must admit, I did take a wrong turn or two.”

You laugh, taking his arm. “Well, I’m glad you found your way eventually. I’ve been dying to dance with you all evening.”

As Max leads you onto the dance floor, a strange sense of déjà vu washes over you. You’ve danced with him before, you think. In grand halls and humble taverns, across centuries ...

“What’s that look for?” Max asks, pulling you from your reverie as he places a hand on your waist.

You shake your head, smiling. “Nothing. Just ... happy, I suppose.”

He beams at you as you begin to waltz. “As am I. Being here with you, it feels ... right. Like everything’s fallen into place.”

You nod, leaning into him slightly. “I know exactly what you mean.”

As you dance, the world seems to fade away. It’s just you and Max, moving in perfect synchronicity. But the spell is broken as a violent shudder runs through the ship.

Max steadies you as you stumble. “What was that?”

Around you, other passengers are looking around in confusion. The music has stopped, the musicians exchanging worried glances.

“I’m not sure,” you reply, a sense of unease growing in your stomach. “Perhaps we should-”

Your words are cut off as a ship’s officer bursts into the ballroom. “Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm. We’ve struck an iceberg, but there’s no immediate danger. As a precaution, we ask that you all put on life vests and make your way to the boat deck.”

A ripple of nervous chatter sweeps through the crowd. Max’s grip on your hand tightens.

“We should go,” he says urgently. “Now.”

You nod, allowing him to lead you through the increasingly panicked throng. As you make your way through the corridors, the ship’s list becomes more pronounced.

“This is bad,” Max mutters, helping you navigate a particularly steep section. “Much worse than they’re letting on.”

You reach your cabin, quickly donning life vests over your evening wear. As you step back into the corridor, you’re met with a tide of frightened passengers.

“We need to get to the boat deck,” Max says, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. “Stay close to me.”

You push through the crowd, the ship’s groans and creaks growing louder with each passing moment. When you finally reach the deck, chaos greets you. Officers are struggling to maintain order as passengers clamor for spots in the too-few lifeboats.

“Women and children first!” An officer shouts over the din.

Max turns to you, his face pale but determined. “You need to get on a boat.”

You shake your head vehemently. “Not without you.”

“Please,” he begs, cupping your face in his hands. “I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

A memory flashes through your mind — Max saying those same words in another time, another place. Always trying to save you.

“And I couldn’t bear to leave you,” you insist. “We stay together. No matter what.”

Max’s eyes search yours for a long moment before he nods. “Together, then.”

As the night wears on, it becomes clear that there won’t be enough lifeboats for everyone. You and Max help where you can, assisting women and children into the boats. The temperature drops, your breath visible in the frigid air.

“I think that’s the last one,” Max says as you watch the final lifeboat disappear into the darkness.

You look around the rapidly tilting deck. Those who remain are a mix of resigned, terrified, and in denial.

“What do we do now?” You ask, your voice small.

Max takes your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. “We face it together. Like we always have.”

As the ship’s stern begins to rise, you and Max make your way towards the railing. The screech of twisting metal fills the air as the Titanic starts to break apart.

“Max,” you say, your voice trembling, “I’m scared.”

He pulls you close, his arms strong around you. “I know. But remember, this isn’t the end. Not really.”

You look up at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you feel it?” He asks. “The familiarity? Like we’ve been here before?”

As you stare into his eyes, flashes of memory assault you. A temple in ancient Greece. A Tudor court. A Renaissance study. Always you and Max. Always torn apart.

“The cycle,” you whisper.

Max nods, a sad smile on his face. “We’ll get it right someday. I promise.”

The ship lurches violently, and you cling to each other as you’re thrown into the icy Atlantic. The shock of the cold water drives the breath from your lungs.

“Max!” You gasp, struggling to keep your head above water.

“I’m here,” he calls back, swimming towards you. “Hold on to me.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, your limbs already growing numb from the cold. Around you, the cries of other passengers pierce the night.

“It’s so cold,” you murmur, your teeth chattering.

Max holds you tighter. “I know, love. Just stay with me.”

As the minutes tick by, the cries around you grow fewer. You can feel your strength ebbing, your grip on Max weakening.

“Hey,” Max says, his voice hoarse. “Stay awake. Look at the stars with me.”

You force your eyes open, gazing up at the crystal-clear sky. “They’re beautiful,” you manage.

“Just like you,” Max replies. “In every life, in every time.”

You smile weakly. “You always were a charmer.”

“And you always saw right through me,” he chuckles, the sound turning into a cough.

As your vision begins to dim, you summon the last of your strength to speak. “Max? Promise you’ll find me again?”

His lips, blue with cold, press against your forehead. “Always. In this life and the next, and all the ones after.”

The cold fades, replaced by a spreading warmth. As consciousness slips away, your last thought is of Max’s eyes, filled with love and the promise of reunion.

The wheel turns. The cycle continues. And somewhere, in another time, another place, two souls prepare to find each other once more.

Washington DC, 1968

The air is thick with tension and the acrid smell of tear gas. You stand at the front of the crowd, your hand tightly gripping a homemade sign that reads “MAKE LOVE, NOT WAR.” The chants of the protesters around you swell and ebb like waves crashing against the shore of the Lincoln Memorial.

“Hey,” a familiar voice calls out. You turn to see Max pushing his way through the crowd, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You smile, relief washing over you. “I was starting to worry you wouldn’t make it.”

Max reaches you, his hand finding yours. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away. Though the police barricades nearly did.”

You squeeze his hand. “I’m glad you’re here. This feels ... important. Like we’re on the brink of something.”

He nods, his eyes scanning the growing crowd. “I know what you mean. It’s like the whole world is holding its breath.”

As if on cue, a new chant starts up. “Hey, hey, LBJ! How many kids did you kill today?”

You join in, your voice blending with the thousands around you. Max’s deeper tone resonates beside you, sending a shiver down your spine that has nothing to do with the autumn chill.

Suddenly, there’s a commotion at the edge of the crowd. You stand on tiptoe, trying to see what’s happening.

“What is it?” Max asks, concern etching his features.

“I’m not sure,” you reply. “It looks like ... oh no.”

A line of police officers in riot gear is advancing on the crowd, batons at the ready.

Max’s grip on your hand tightens. “We should fall back. This could get ugly.”

But you stand your ground, shaking your head. “No. We can’t let them intimidate us. We have a right to be here, to make our voices heard.”

“I know,” Max says, his voice tight with worry. “But I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

As the police line gets closer, tensions in the crowd rise. Someone throws a bottle, and it shatters at the feet of an officer. In an instant, chaos erupts.

“Disperse immediately!” A voice booms over a megaphone. “This is an unlawful assembly!”

But the crowd doesn’t disperse. If anything, the chants grow louder, more defiant. You feel Max tugging at your arm.

“Come on,” he urges. “We’ve made our point. Let’s go before-”

His words are cut off by a loud bang. For a moment, you think it’s a firecracker. Then you see the tear gas canister arcing through the air.

“Gas!” Someone shouts, and panic ripples through the crowd.

Max pulls you close, covering your mouth and nose with his bandana. “We need to move, now!”

You nod, coughing as the acrid gas begins to sting your eyes. Together, you push through the panicked crowd, trying to reach the edge of the park.

But the police are closing in from all sides. You see batons swinging, hear the cries of pain and anger from your fellow protesters.

“This way,” Max says, pulling you towards a gap in the police line.

You’re almost there when you hear a scream behind you. Turning, you see a young woman on the ground, an officer standing over her with his baton raised.

Before you can think, you’re moving towards them. “Stop!” You yell. “Leave her alone!”

“Y/N, no!” Max calls after you, but you’re already out of his reach.

You throw yourself between the fallen woman and the officer, your arms outstretched. “Please,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “She’s not a threat. We’re peaceful protesters.”

The officer hesitates, his baton still raised. For a moment, you think he might listen. Then you see his eyes harden behind his visor.

“I said disperse!” He shouts, bringing the baton down.

You close your eyes, bracing for the impact. But it never comes. Instead, you hear a grunt of pain and open your eyes to see Max in front of you, taking the blow meant for you.

“Max!” You cry out as he crumples to the ground.

You drop to your knees beside him, cradling his head. “Max, can you hear me?”

He groans, his eyes fluttering open. “Are you okay?” He asks, his voice weak.

You nod, tears streaming down your face. “I’m fine. Why did you do that?”

A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “Couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I?”

Despite everything, you can’t help but laugh. “You idiot,” you say fondly.

The moment is shattered by another round of tear gas canisters landing nearby. The acrid smoke billows around you, making it hard to breathe.

“We need to get out of here,” you say, trying to help Max to his feet.

But as you stand, you feel a sharp pain in your side. Looking down, you see a growing red stain on your shirt.

“Y/N?” Max’s voice sounds far away. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You stumble, your legs giving out. Max catches you, lowering you gently to the ground.

“Oh God,” he says, his face pale with shock. “You’ve been hit.”

You look down again, seeing the bullet embedded in your side. The pain is distant, almost unreal.

“It’s not so bad,” you try to reassure him, but your voice comes out weak and shaky.

Max presses his hand to the wound, trying to stem the bleeding. “Help!” He shouts. “We need a medic!”

But his cries are lost in the chaos around you. The world seems to be fading, growing dim at the edges.

“Max,” you whisper, reaching up to touch his face. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head fiercely. “Don’t you dare apologize. You’re going to be fine, you hear me? We’re going to get through this.”

You smile sadly, a strange sense of déjà vu washing over you. “We always say that, don’t we?”

Max’s brow furrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Every time,” you murmur, your strength fading. “We always think this time will be different.”

Understanding dawns in Max’s eyes, along with a deep, aching sorrow. “The cycle,” he whispers.

You nod weakly. “But it’s okay. We’ll get another chance.”

“No,” Max says, his voice breaking. “Not again. Please, Y/N, stay with me.”

But you can feel yourself slipping away. The pain is gone now, replaced by a spreading warmth.

“Find me again,” you breathe, your eyes starting to close. “Promise me.”

Max’s tears fall on your face as he leans close. “I promise. In this life or the next, I’ll always find you.”

As consciousness fades, your last thought is of Max’s eyes, filled with love and the weight of lifetimes. The wheel turns, the cycle continues, and somewhere, two souls prepare for yet another chance at forever.

Monaco, 2024

The soft morning light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the bedroom. You’re curled up against Max, his arm draped protectively over your waist. The steady rhythm of his breathing is a comforting constant, one you’ve grown accustomed to over the years.

A gentle weight lands on the bed, followed by a soft meow. You open your eyes to see Jimmy padding across the duvet.

“Morning, Jimmy,” you whisper, reaching out to scratch behind his ears. He purrs contentedly, settling down in the small space between you and Max.

The movement stirs Max from his slumber. He blinks sleepily, a smile spreading across his face as he focuses on you. “Good morning, schatje,” he murmurs, his voice still rough with sleep.

You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Morning, champ. Sleep well?”

He nods, pulling you closer. “Always do with you by my side.”

As if on cue, another weight lands on the bed. Sassy makes her presence known with a demanding meow.

Max chuckles, reaching over to pet her. “Good morning to you too, princess.”

You can’t help but laugh. “I think someone’s jealous of all the attention Jimmy’s getting.”

“Can’t have that, can we?” Max says, scooping Sassy up and placing her on his chest. She immediately starts kneading, purring loudly.

You watch them with a fond smile, a wave of contentment washing over you. “I love this,” you say softly. “Just ... all of this.”

Max turns his head to look at you, his eyes filled with warmth. “Me too. Sometimes I can hardly believe it’s real, you know?”

You nod, understanding completely. “I know what you mean. It’s like ... we’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

“Lifetimes,” Max agrees, a hint of something ancient in his gaze.

You both fall silent for a moment, lost in memories that feel more like dreams — flashes of other lives, other times, always reaching for each other but never quite able to hold on.

Jimmy stretches, breaking the spell. You laugh as he nearly pushes Sassy off Max’s chest in the process.

“Alright, you two,” Max says, gently moving the cats aside. “I think it’s time for breakfast.”

As if understanding his words, both cats leap off the bed and head for the door, meowing insistently.

You groan, burying your face in Max’s shoulder. “Five more minutes?”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You know they won’t let us rest until they’re fed.”

“True,” you sigh, reluctantly sitting up. “I suppose we should get up anyway. Don’t you have that interview today?”

Max nods, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Yeah, in a couple of hours. Nothing too intense though, just a quick chat about the next race.”

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, stretching. “Want me to make coffee while you feed the furry overlords?”

“Sounds perfect,” Max says, getting up and pulling on a t-shirt. He pauses at the door, looking back at you with a soft smile. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

You feel a warmth bloom in your chest, the same feeling you get every time he looks at you like that. “You might have mentioned it once or twice,” you tease. “But I never get tired of hearing it.”

Max crosses the room in two quick strides, pulling you into a deep kiss. When he pulls back, you’re both a little breathless.

“I love you,” he says, his forehead resting against yours. “More than I ever thought possible.”

You cup his face in your hands, thumb tracing the line of his jaw. “I love you too, Max. Always have, always will.”

A loud meow from the hallway breaks the moment. You both laugh, the spell broken but the warmth lingering.

“Duty calls,” Max says with a wink, heading out to tend to the cats.

You make your way to the kitchen, starting the coffee maker and pulling out mugs. As the rich aroma fills the air, you can hear Max in the other room, talking to the cats as he fills their bowls.

“There you go, Jimmy. Easy, Sassy, there’s plenty for both of you.”

You smile to yourself, struck once again by how perfect this all feels. It’s not just the quiet moments like this morning — it’s the way Max lights up when he talks about racing, the pride in his eyes when he brings home another trophy. It’s the way he holds you after a particularly rough day, or the sound of his laughter when you’re goofing around together.

Max joins you in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you pour the coffee. “Smells amazing,” he murmurs, nuzzling into your neck.

You lean back into him, savoring the moment. “The coffee or me?”

“Both,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

You turn in his arms, handing him his mug. “So, what’s on the agenda after your interview?”

Max takes a sip of coffee, thinking. “Not much, actually. I was thinking maybe we could have a quiet day in? Watch a movie, order takeout?”

“Sounds perfect,” you say, your smile widening. “I’ll even let you pick the movie this time.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Even if it’s another racing documentary?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Even then. Though I reserve the right to fall asleep on your shoulder if it gets too technical.”

“Deal,” Max grins, pulling you close for another kiss.

As you stand there in the kitchen, coffee in hand and cats weaving between your legs, you’re struck by a profound sense of rightness. This is what you’ve been searching for, life after life. This quiet, domestic bliss with the man you love.

“What are you thinking about?” Max asks, noticing your thoughtful expression.

You smile, leaning into him. “Just ... how happy I am. How perfect this all is.”

Max’s arms tighten around you. “It really is, isn’t it? Sometimes I wonder if I’m dreaming.”

You pinch his arm lightly, laughing at his mock-offended expression. “Definitely not dreaming.”

“Good,” he says, his voice soft and sincere. “Because I never want to wake up from this.”

As you stand there in the morning light, surrounded by the life you’ve built together, you silently thank whatever force has finally allowed you and Max to find your happily ever after.

The wheel has turned, the cycle has ended, and at last, your souls have found their home.

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kissitbttr · 10 months

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nobody understands how you did it.

how you managed to swept him off his feet, breaking the walls he had built pieces by pieces, how the fuck did you get him to be comfortable with you? to be open with you? and only with you.

‘never seen him this happy or loose in a long time, lass. what’s your trick, eh?’ the captain pulls a joke, making the rest of the team laugh. ‘i think I speak for everyone when i say, he never brings a girl out. let alone introducing her to us.’

that one is true. years of being friends with ghost, the captain nor his closest friend ‘soap’ has ever seen him out on a date. they encouraged him though, since there have been so many women tried their ways to get close with the big guy, yet none of them succeed.

the masked men would often just shrug them off and give one hard cold answer. they would back away immediately

“guess i just have my ways” is what you always say. even soap couldn’t register how it happened. he couldn’t figure it out himself, he knows the lad way longer than you do.

they don’t believe you. because there is no way in hell that all you did was to bat your lashes, show him your adorable giggle and he was in. there’s gotta be more to it.

so what is it about you that draws him close? what is it about you that makes ghost’s eyes light up each time you step into the room? what is it about you that makes ghost’s heart skip a beat every time he talks to you?

certainly not because how you’re so patient in getting to know with him, right? not because how you trace his scars ever so lightly and call them pretty every single time he’s doubtful about himself. not because how you console him with ‘I’ve got you, baby’ each night a nightmare comes back to haunt him while rubbing his back soothingly. not because how you shower him with soft, gentle kisses to remind him that your love for him is bigger than anyone could have offered. not because how you understand why he can’t say the three letter words to you, just yet. still, you stick around.

definitely not, right? there’s no way. he’s simon ghost riley. no one or nothing could ever be good enough to make this man come out of his shell. it’s impossible, right? you’ll need a miracle for that.

“love?” you hear a voice calls, along with the sound of keys being tossed into a ceramic bowl. heavy boots thumping against the marble floor,

you step out of the kitchen. long hair tied up into a messy updo, clear frame glasses perched on the bridge of your nose. dressed in one of his favorite sleeping gown as your eyes locked with his brown ones. the balaclava still attached to mask his handsome face.

scarred lips stretch into a smile the moment his beautiful fiancé emerges from the kitchen.

he drops his bag onto the floor, pulling the mask off of him slowly. revealing his disheveled blond hair as he takes slow steps towards you.

“hi, baby” your voice brings him home. no soul could ever take away from him. he longs for that angelic tone each time he gets deployed. three or six months without listening to you speak to him is just insanity.

he’d rather lose his hearing entirely than not having to hear you at all.

he’s quick to embrace you in his arms. your face hiding in the crook of his neck, inhaling that signature scent of his that you had missed, dearly.

“what are you making?” he mumbles into the crown of your hair, giving it a peck before pulling away slightly to take a good look at you. “it smells good”

“your favorite” you kiss his chin, causing his cheeks to redden at the affection. “i even bought those lumpias down the 112th street. i know how much you love them. pretzels bites from the deli for snacks aaand, black pepper beef with rice for your dinner. sounds good?”

simon leans against the doorway as he watches you plate everything. rambling about everything. his smile widens even more at your domestic antics. the way you talk with your hands as you mention another annoying co-worker that keeps bugging you and the way you roll your eyes when a splash of gravy spill from the plate.

truly is a sight.

“why are you looking at me like that?” your lips raise into a curious smile, finger moving a dark lock that sticks into your forehead,

he gives you a small shrug. gaze not leaving you neither does his smile.

“you’re just so beautiful”

something so simple yet it makes your stomach fills with butterflies.

you chew on your lower lip to prevent you from smiling too much, but a hint of blush is dusting your cheeks betrays you.

“come, papi… don’t want the food to get cold now, do we?” you change the subject while you nod your head towards the empty seat across. “eat with me”

the two of you sit there while making a small talk. stealing glances every second. feeding each other’s food. soft laughs fall upon both of your mouths when one make a terrible joke.

something you’d see when two people are in love. c

so yes, the answer to that question. it is possible. because you made it possible. you made it possible for him to love again. even if he had to start all over. you made it possible for him to be vulnerable. you gave him a purpose the moment he thought things were looking bad for him.

he found a solace within your existence.

only you made it possible to bring the simon in him.

vbecause you. are his home

#simon riley x reader #simon riley fluff #simon riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley

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starrydragoness · 4 months

Text

Content: Jiyan x F!Reader, smut, 18+, MDNI! More under the cut

Content: soft sex, creampie, cockwarming, pretty vanilla tbh, live laugh love dragon man, wrote this sleep deprived and didn't proof read, so if there are any grammar errors I'll fix them later, trust.

“Come up here-”

Jiyan panted, breathy words falling from his lips with effort as he fought down soft sounds of pleasure as he grinded his hips into yours. His hand cups around your nape and brings you into his lips, reddened and bruised as they were - he needed more, more of you, more of your taste and touch and love. The unending well of need is insatiable, always open to welcome you in and swallow you whole, cradling you against his chest.

A thin sheen of sweat sits on top of his skin, his chest rising rapidly with each short breath, and you slowly squirm, pushing his shoulders down so he is now laying on his back and you throw one leg over his hip, effectively straddling him. From here, you have quite the sight of the General of the Midnight Rangers, lying beneath you, and so pliant to your affections, but most importantly - he is your dear husband, one you missed too much and all of that love is coming to boil over at this very moment.

You lean down, kissing across his collarbone, climbing your way up to his neck and you can feel him suck in a breath as you graze your teeth across his pulse point. Your teeth leave faint little red marks across his pale skin, lips sucking here and there until purple blooms in soft petals. His hands are pawing at your sides, feeling your warm flesh in his palms before he claws down at your hips, pushing you down against his length that is stuck between your two naked bodies, your naked cunt grinding against it. It feels like it has been ages since you began teasing and feeling one another up, taking off clothing, piece by piece until both of you were desperate for more and more.

“Love- hah.. “ Jiyan curls his fingers into your hips, his head thrown back onto the messy bed with covers strewn about. “Let me feel you- no more teasing” he whispers into your ear and you couldn’t agree more. Sitting upright you gaze into those eyes of molten gold, looking up at you as if you were the work of finest marble and divinity. Embodiment of beauty and peace.

Jiyan’s lips parted slightly, eyes glued to yours until your line of sight led him down to your wet hole. He swallows the lump in his throat as you take his shaft in your hand, pushing yourself up to your knees before guiding his tip to your hole, all while his hands anxiously massage up and down the sides of your thighs, anticipating eating him up alive. And once you finally sink down his eyes roll back into his head, eyes fluttering shut as he feels your warm walls squeezing him and welcoming him in. A guttural moan rumbles through his throat and he can’t help but buck into you, and the next thrust has your hands sprawled ontop of his chest, searching for stability as he began to fuck himself into you.

He was nothing if not careful, attentive, he still wanted to appreciate you and show you how much he has missed you too, yet as both of you began to lose yourselves in carnal desires, he found himself getting rougher.

Each thrust had your tits bouncing, right in his face. Your pretty and glazed eyes looking down at him with all adoration one could hold, and your flushed face and reddened lips threw him in a daze. He was hypnotized. Enarmored.

“My love- you feel so good, you have n-no idea how much I missed you” he groaned after pushing himself into you to the hilt, simultaneously pulling you down and for a moment he went still, savoring the fluttering of your walls around him. You moaned his name, lust clouding not only your vision but your thoughts as well. So drunk on him.

One of his hands travels up your sides leaving warmth in its wake, trailing all the way up to your shoulder and then down to cup one of your hands in his, pulling it up, towards his lips until he could kiss your palm. He ruts into you all the while, another lingering kiss following the first one before his teeth nip at the inside of your wrist.

You can feel your insides burning, slick oozing out of your hole and coating his shaft with each thrust. You can feel him so deep within that it drives you mad, making you cry out for him. And he hears you loud and clear, half lidded eyes drinking you in like the finest liquor.

The hand that held yours flew down to where your bodies joined together, finding your clit and rubbing it in the rhythm of your thrusts, sending electric shocks up your core, all through your spine and up to your shoulders and down to your toes. Whining you squirm on top of him, both of you losing your rhythm as the tension in your bellies threatens to burst.

“Mmm- I’m so close, Jiyan” you mewled, and goodness, your voice alone was enough to make him chase that high with even more fervor.

“I know, love, I know- come with me..hah.. look at me. Oh, how beautiful you are-” he muses out loud, a flicker of a smile lighting up his lustful eyes as pounds into you from below, pushing moan after moan out of you, making you sing for him.

Your orgasm blinds you, white hot pleasure coursing through your veins as your muscles seized and your walls spasmed as Jiyan filled your greedy hole, spurting deep within you until he had nothing more to give. His face became more red before he released a throaty groan, his own muscles finally slacking from the intense orgasm, just in time to wrap his arms around you after you collapsed onto his chest. His cock remained buried within you even as it grew soft, comforted by the heat and slick.

The two of you panted, working slowly but desperately to catch your breath. His calloused hands traced up and your naked back, holding you close to him.

“I love you.. mm.. I love you so much” you coo at him, picking your head up only to place several kisses along his jaw before kissing his sweet lips. A kiss he gladly returns despite the faint burning in his lungs. “I love you too, dearest” he breathed back, watching you settle your head against his chest, hearing the quick drumming of his heart.

#jiyan #jiyan x reader #jiyan x you #jiyan x fem!reader #jiyan x female reader #jiyan smut #jiyan imagine #jiyan wuthering waves #wuthering waves x reader #wuthering waves #jiyan oneshot #wuwa jiyan #wuwa x reader #wuwa #smut #mdni #wuthering waves smut #fem reader

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wannabanghwang · 1 month

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Summary : some cozy, hot shower sex with hyunjin :) bit romantic, bit cute, bit freaky😉🫶

Word count : 1.5k

Warnings : handjob, fingering, unprotected sex, choking kinda, hair pulling, the works

There’s a knock on the bathroom door.

“You can come in.” You call out.

The door creaks open and then shuts again with a click, seconds later. You tilt your head for a better view, but the glass is fogged up with steam. You make out Hyunjin’s tall, slender figure even through the blurry glass. He stands opposite to you, separated by the wall.

“Do you want some company?” He cocks his head, the pitch of his voice heightening as he speaks.

“I’ll think about it.” You reply, smiling.

He stills. “Okay I’ll leave.” He answers coolly.

“I’m joking, come here.” You smile, rolling your eyes.

You hear the metal clink as he hastily undoes his belt, followed by the gentle thump of fabric hitting the floor. The glass door pulls open slowly, releasing a whirl of steam. He ducks his head slightly, grabbing the marbled underside of the door frame as he makes his way inside. He pulls the door closed behind him, engulfing you both once again with steam. The heat magnifies the deep floral scent of the soap you’re using. White clusters of bubbles glide down your body, guided by the steady stream of water. He slowly steps closer to you, cautionary, as if you might tell him to leave if he’s too quick. He reaches behind his head, tugging the tie from his hair. It immediately falls into place, silky black waves forming curtains in front of his face. He drags his hands through his hair, pulling it out of his face before joining you under the spray of water. His eyes fall closed as he tips his head back, basking in the warmth.

“God, it’s so hot. Do you always take showers like this?” He drops his head back down, a few strands of jet black hair falling in front of his eyes. Beads of water drip from each one, landing on his nose and lips.

You hum, tracing a finger along his collarbone. When you look up, he’s gazing back down at you through dark, glossy eyes. His plush pink lips parted ever so slightly. The mixture of Hyunjin’s height and the angle of his head act as a shield, sheltering you from the stream of hot water. He licks a drop of water off his bottom lip, making a show of slowly dragging his tongue over it. He’s a born performer, awash with raw, sexual power. The kind possessed exclusively by young, influential men. Hyunjin is virile, yet feminine in the most alluring, seductive way. When he wants something, he doesn’t just know how to get it, he knows how to make you want to give it to him. The way he’s looking at you right now, dark hooded eyes, hungry, and alight with desire. They travel up and down your body, consuming every inch of skin. Long, slender fingers gently graze up your hip. He locks eyes with you coyly, testing the waters. You bring my lips to the expanse of his chest, slowly and deliberately. Sucking gently at the soft wet skin. He brings his free hand to your chin, tilting it upwards and holding it there. He kisses you hard, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth. His grip on your hip tightens, pulling you flush to him as his other thumb roams your cheek. You tangle your fingers, losing them in his thick streaks of black hair. You make a fist, tugging his head back just enough for him to open his mouth. He allows your tongue to wander. He tastes sweet, and faintly minty.

His big hand travels from your cheek to the back of your head, taking a firm grip on your hair. He tangles his long fingers through your wet hair, pulling just hard enough to elicit a satisfied sound. Your reaction seems to please him, as he smiles, pulling away from the kiss to look you in the eyes. His unwavering grip on your hair remains. Now that your faces are apart, the heat from your flush bodies becomes more apparent. You feel him pressed against your belly. He’s achingly hard as you push your bodies even closer. His back collides with the tiled wall behind him, cool brown marble contrasting with the heat of the water. You remove your hand from his hair, bringing it to rest on his shoulder. Your other hand rakes slowly up his thigh, digging in your nails as your fingers pass over the defined V formed by his hips. They come to a halt at his ribcage, just below his chest. When you look at him this time, his eyes are no longer hooded and hungry, instead they’re wide, burning with anticipation. Hyunjin’s curious, doe eyed look only grows wider as your fingers trace the ridges of his abdomen. You allow your fingers to lightly brush over the tip of his length. He whimpers softly in response, curling a tight fist in your hair. He knows you know what he wants. And he knows you’re going to give it to him. It’s all a bit of a game to him, and he revels in every second of it. He yanks you closer by the waist, grinding his hips into your belly, desperate for any kind of friction. His stare is hot, seering every inch of skin he sets his eyes on. He’s gorgeous like this, a little bit undone, pink cheeks flushed from both the steam and the frantic need for release.

“Tell me what you want.” You whisper.

“Touch me.” He groans back in response. “Please.”

Finally, you take him in your hand the way you know he wants you to. He melts instantly, a long shallow hiss escaping his throat. His head instantly lolls onto your shoulder, hot breath on your neck. He opens his mouth, dragging his tongue and teeth over your shoulder. He sucks in a gasp as you stroke him slowly, rocking his hips up to claim as much contact as he can get. He bites down gently on your neck and you inhale deeply, exhaling a quiet moan. His long, delicate fingers creep down the small of your back before reaching the heat between your thighs. He traces a slow deliberate finger in between your legs. You squeeze him lightly as your hand travels up and down his length. Your breathing goes ragged as he begins to trace slow circles around your clit. Just as you start to grind your hips against his fingers, he pulls them away. You whine in response, squeezing his shoulder.

“Tell me what you want.” He smirks into your ear.

“You know what I want Hyunjin?” You reply.

He raises an eyebrow, curious.

You lower your voice, to nothing more than a whisper. “I want you to pin me against this wall and fuck me with your pretty cock until you come.”

He sucks in a gasp at your crude language, but you feel him twitch in your hand. His breathing is harsh and ragged now, and he’s wound up in a way that feels almost primal. He flips your bodies in one swift movement, him now shielding you from the stream of water. Your chest is pinned to the cold tile, your hands on either side. Hyunjin’s lean, solid body is pressed up behind you. He breathes deep and hard into the crook of your neck, bringing a hand up to the wall, his large hand eclipsing yours entirely as he interlocks your fingers. He busies his other free hand with teasing your entrance, dragging his tip along it. You try to reach back, but he holds your hand tight to the wall. He readies himself and then without warning thrusts into you. He goes slowly at first, nipping at your jaw with his teeth. You whimper and arch your back, indicating for him to go faster. Your bodies are flush together so close that they’re practically parallel to the wall. Hyunjin snakes his free hand under your arm and to your neck. His fingers settle their stern grip on either side under your jaw. The slight pressure on your neck feels so good, and you let him know with a bit louder moan. He smiles into your neck and groans, quickening his thrusts. You can tell he’s close because his fingers tighten more and more around your throat the faster he goes. For a while, the only sounds heard are the mixture of your ragged breathing, skin colliding and the steady stream of water. He groans harshly, followed by a whimper. His thrusts grow sloppier and he drops his head onto your shoulder.

“Fuck.” He rolls his hips slowly, prolonging his high for as long as possible.

He pulls out, and you feel a hot spurt of liquid drip down the back of your thigh. He sighs deeply, catching his breath against your neck. You stay like that for a moment, allowing your heart rates to still. Slowly, Hyunjin stands up, allowing the water to hit your skin again. He reaches wordlessly for the bar of soap on the shelf above your head, bringing it down to your skin. He drags it down your body, leaving a trail of bubbles in its wake. He sets the soap back on the shelf and allows his hands to massage it into your body, white bubbles covering both of your skin. You smile, pleased as he holds you flush to his hard chest beneath the water, allowing the soap and the remnants of sex to mix as they wash away down the drain.

#hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin #hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids hyunjin #skz hwang hyunjin #hwang hyujin imagines #hyunjin imagines

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woso-dreamzzz · 7 months

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Kidnapped

Fridolina Rolfö x Baby!Reader

Summary: Frido kidnaps you

Frido thought that her parents were going crazy when they called. She thought they were losing their marbles when they complained that they missed a full house and were planning on adopting.

She'd swept it under the rug until she received a picture two months later of her parents in a baby's room with a tiny baby sleeping in a crib. She hadn't even realised they were being serious until the picture.

But now, as she stood with you in her arms, she understood it completely.

It had been all too easy to escape with you for training this morning. With her parents coming to visit and the time difference from Sweden to Spain, they had both been out for the count and Frido had taken you with her.

She was still technically injured and only joined in with light training so this was a perfect way to bond with you.

"Frido," Ingrid says as she steps into the locker room," What...What have you done?"

She stood in the doorway in shock, blocking the entrance before she was shoved out of the way by the other girls. Each of them had a similar reaction, stopping and staring before being brutally shoved over so the next person could take their place.

"Hmm?" Frido asks, not looking up from where she's feeding you your bottle," I just finished my gym session. Why?"

"I think she means the baby, mate," Lucy butts in, eyes wide as she stares with no shame," Was the knee injury just a cover up for a pregnancy?"

"What? No! This is y/n. My little sister."

"That's a baby."

"Well, yes, but she's my little sister too."

"I think she looks very sweet," Irene cuts in before anyone else can drag this out any longer.

Irene approaches and you draw your eyes away from where they've gone cross-eyed to see your bottle to look at her. You keep suckling as you stare at her with unblinking eyes.

"This is Irene, älskling," Frido coos," She plays football with me."

You keep suckling as your eyes cut towards the rest of the girls who have begun to line up to get a closer look at you.

"So," Patri laughs," Did you steal her from Sweden or-?"

"My parents came to visit," Frido replies as she detaches you from your bottle and places you on her shoulder to wind you," And I'm letting them have the day off."

"Did you tell them that?"

Frido's face goes a little red. "I left a note. It's not like I kidnapped her!"

"This is like the textbook definition of kidnap," Patri laughs, pulling a silly face at you when you're turned back around to face her," But she's cute so I'm glad you did it."

Frido looks down at you. "She is, isn't she?"

She didn't know what to expect from you when her parents came to visit. She'd seen you briefly in video calls and received routine pictures and videos of you but meeting you in person was different.

You were so small and sweet and you fit just perfectly in her arms. You'd reached up to her with your little baby hands and patted at her cheek and she fell in love with you right then and there.

Ingrid comes to greet you next.

You're more aware of everyone now as you sit propped up on Frido's lap. Your little legs kick out occasionally as Frido sways you side to side. You seem to like that because you let out little peals of giggles as Ingrid approaches.

She smiles at you and Frido beams at her.

It's not that she needs approval but Ingrid's one of her best friends and it would mean a lot if she liked you too.

Ingrid goes down onto her knees so you're at eye level with her. You stare at her like you stared at Irene before Frido rocks you slightly. Your face splits into a smile and you giggle again, kicking your legs out and stuffing your fist into your mouth.

Ingrid grins, looking up at Frido.

"You should be careful," She says," If you keep kidnapping her then your parents might never let you bring her back to see us."

Frido laughs, lifting you up until you're both pressed cheek to cheek. "They'd never be able to separate me from my älskling. I'm going to take her everywhere with me!"

"She's your sister," Ingrid reminds her," She'll have to go back to Sweden at some point."

"No!" Frido declares, shaking her head and laying several ticklish kisses on your cheek, sending you into another round of bell-like giggles. "She's staying with me! They can't have her anymore!"

"So, this kidnapping is a permanent thing," Ingrid teases.

"No!" Frido looks at you and your little gummy smile and the way that you kick your feet out even though you're dangling in her arms. "Maybe!" You shove your fist into your mouth and Frido coos. "Would you like that, älskling? Living with me? Spain is so much warmer than Sweden."

You gurgle and Frido takes that as agreement.

"You're staying with me, huh?" She says as you suddenly get distracted by your own feet, reaching down to tug at them. "I know. We're going to have so much fun together."

"Fun together on the run," Patri teases," Because that's certainly kidnapping."

"I'll lay low at Ingrid's for a while. She and Mapi have already got everything set up for a baby. Me and älskling will be fine."

"They've got things set up for a child," Patri reminds her," Their cub isn't a baby anymore. Sorry, Frido, you've got no chance of outrunning the law."

Frido grins as you kick your feet and giggle again. "We'll work something out."

#woso x reader #fridolina rolfö x reader #fridolina rolfö #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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thecharacterchronicler · 24 days

Text

Playing With Fire (Part 2) || Coriolanus Snow || Smut

Outline: After working together on an assignment, Coriolanus still can’t seem to get along with her, but that doesn’t stop them from enjoying each other’s company.

Word count: 2’526

Warnings: Mostly unhinged and explicit shameless smut ✨

Author’s note: Here is the 2nd part of this story. It’s also my attempt at writing the requested prompt # 12, hope it’s a good one!

He stood in front of the metallic door leading to the lab, no stranger to the scientific department of the university. He was used to having private conversations with Dr Gaul, benefiting from her reputation and expertise when it came to university matters and his part time involvement in the Hunger Games. This time though, he wouldn’t be facing her alone. He was patiently waiting for her to show up, knowing she had been told the head gamemaker requested to talk to both of them immediately… However, it was taking her a while to get there, a proof that she had no idea what kind of lunatic she was about to speak to.

He anxiously looked around, wondering if the fact that she was running late was going to cost him some points on their assignment, or worst, cause Dr Gaul to lose the hard earned respect she now had for him.

When finally the sound of some heels clicking against the marble floor at the end of the corridor reached his ears, he slightly relaxed his posture. It didn’t take long for him to see a familiar face around the corner, cheeks flushed from rushing up the stairs and hair in a mess. Their eyes met and it served as a greeting, the girl silently taking place next to him in front of the door while adjusting her clothes.

With his hands behind his back, he risked a glance at her, just in time to catch a glimpse of her chest as she fixed the collar of her shirt, instantly giving him flashbacks of their study session and the way she had demonstrated exactly what she liked to him. He remembered how she had squeezed her own boobs, in a way that probably elicited a bit of pain, and how he would have been ready to beg to be the one to touch her like that. He had spent the last few nights thinking about it - about her - to the point that he barely was able to cum in his hand anymore, milking his erection while thinking about her way too often for it to be healthy.

Just seeing her again, feeling her presence next to him was enough to make him hard, a physiological response of his body that he simply couldn’t fight off… Even if the moment definitely wasn’t right.

“You were wrong, it seems our professors and Dr Gaul herself are more interested in my ideas than what you thought.” She said, without looking at him, with a victorious tone that amused him.

He didn’t have time to reply anything, the door opening for them.

Without anyone to welcome them, they stepped inside a large room, where glass cages were on display, filled with the most interesting creatures. Coriolanus was used to it by now, he even had had the privilege to care and learn about some of Gaul’s mutts as part of his training and had his mind set on creating his own muttation to add a bit of action in the next Hunger Games.

But his classmate had no idea what to expect. She surely thought that the creatures on display were some kind of monsters and maybe she was right in a way. But her opinion on the matter wasn’t important, the only thing that Coriolanus really cared about was how she had inched closer to him for reassurance, her arm brushing against his and following his lead with wide eyes observing their surroundings. He stood taller, enjoying the way she was visibly relying on him for protection.

When Dr Gaul appeared from behind a big aquarium filled with flesh eating insects, she jumped in surprise and almost hid behind Coriolanus as the impressive head gamemaker walked up to them.

“Well, well, I must say I wasn’t surprised to see another brilliant idea for my Games signed by Mister Snow but you never seemed very passionate about the subject.” Dr Gaul declared, eyeing her in a way that caused a cold shiver to run down Coriolanus’ spine.

He still remembered what she had done to Clemensia when she suspected that she took advantage of his ideas, was she planning on doing the same to her ? As much as he hated her way of seeing things, he wasn’t sure that he wanted her to get hurt.

“I’m passionate about changing things for the better.“ she said, smartly.

Dr Gaul made a sound but Coriolanus wasn’t sure if she approved or suspected she wasn’t being honest.

“I want another paper on how you’re planning to make your idea work, then my team will take it from there.” She demanded, still busy observing the young woman like some kind of predator. “If we provide better care to those kids, I still want them to be on display somehow for people to place their bets before they enter the arena.”

“Kids ?” She repeated, turning to look at him with a panicked expression. But when she saw him staring right back at the gamemaker, unwavering, she understood.

“I know it’s hard to consider them as children, some of them are so different from us.” Gaul shrugged. “But there’s no better representation of innocence for my games.”

Coriolanus glanced at her, wondering if she was going to protest and attempt to defend her original idea of putting notorious criminals from each district in the arena instead of innocent children but she proved to be smart enough to keep her mouth shut.

“Now chop chop, I’ve got work to do.” The influent woman suddenly exclaimed, waving them out of her lab.

They both turned around and left, a heavy silence settling between them. When finally the door closed behind them, she left out a sigh of relief. But the relief didn’t last long, as soon as she seemed to have put her thoughts back in order, she turned to Coriolanus, glaring at him with fury.

“You said we would go with my idea of sending criminals into the arena for our assignement but you didn’t keep your word!” She accused. She crossed her arms over her chest, visibly upset but all he was able to see was the way it brought her breast up, making them look even more voluminous.

“I still took what you said in consideration by suggesting we give them decent living conditions.” He retorted, which was the truth. He had only presented different points than hers to support this idea.

“Only because you think it’ll make a better show!” She exclaimed, a bit too loudly. Coriolanus nervously glanced in direction of both ends of the corridor before answering.

“And so what ? It’s still an improvement for them, it means 23 of them will experience a comfortable bed, good food and care before dying In the arena, it’s an honorable reward for their sacrifice.”

“It’s not and you know it!”

After taking another look around, weary that they might be spied on, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her in direction of a door further away.

“What are you…” She started, trying to free herself from his grip but his time as a peacekeeper clearly gave him an advantage on her. “Don’t touch me…”

He only let go of her once he had shoved her inside the bathroom and closed the door behind them. He took a look at the three stalls, making sure none were occupied before focusing his attention back on the young woman, still fuming with rage in front of him.

“I don’t think this is the kind of conversation you want to have so close to Dr Gaul’s office. In fact, I don’t think this is the kind of conversation we should have at all.” He explained, standing tall in front of her, blocking her inside.

“Why ? Because pleading for the Capitol to stop sacrificing children is an act of treason ?” She snapped, shaking her head.

“It should be.” He retorted, feeling the little patience he had left fading away.

“I don’t understand why someone like you, who has so much power and the ability to charm anyone, refuses to stand up for what is right. You really are a coward.”

“A coward ?” He repeated, taking a step closer so that his threatening silhouette could tower over her as a warning for her to shut up before taking it too far. “You had the opportunity to tell Gaul exactly what you think of her games and yet you stayed quiet, nodding and smiling like a good girl. So who’s really a coward between the two of us ?”

Coriolanus always believed that he had fairly good reflexes, however he didn’t see it coming when she slammed her hand across his face, a stinging pain immediately setting his cheek on fire. He huffed, fixing his pale blue eyes to her and trying to suppress his primal instinct to defend himself.

Her face suddenly shifted from pure and uncontrolled rage to a saddened guilt, eyes desperately searching his before she launched herself into his arms and crashed her lips on his, hungrily kissing him as a way to let out all her pant up emotions.

Even if it took him by surprise, he didn’t push her away, his hands finding her hips and pulling her even closer against his body as he reciprocated the feverish kiss.

She placed her hand on the back of his neck, tugging his face closer and he felt the bit of restraint he still managed to keep on himself melt away. Was she giving him an opportunity to show her that he could do better than her toy ? Or maybe she had been as haunted by their study session as he still was ? Regardless of what it was, he was determined to not let such a chance slip away from him.

He guided her to the sink until the back of her legs pressed against it. Then, he momentarily broke their hungry kiss to lean down and grip her thighs, lifting her up and placing her on the edge of the sink in front of him. His hands disappeared under her skirt and she shivered in reaction to his gentle but cold touch. Once he felt the lace fabric of her panties under his fingertips, he tugged it down her legs, helping her take one leg out and carelessly letting the delicate piece of lingerie hang over her other ankle.

He forced her to pull her legs back slightly, pushing them against her chest because that’s how he had imagined he would fuck her if he ever had the chance to. It was how she had positioned herself while using her toy, a scene that has been playing through his head day and night since. Even if there were many different ways he wanted to thrust his cock inside her, he knew that for the sake of his sanity, this was the best place to start.

He looked down at the bulge in his pants, this time determined to let it free instead of enduring the irritation of constricted fabric over his growing erection. His pants dropped to his knees, his cock gloriously standing up, rigid and throbbing with desire.

He smiled at the way she stared at his length, with wide eyes and mouth slightly hung open.

“Does it look familiar ?” He chuckled, pumping his cock a few times in his hand to help it grow even harder and bigger.

She didn’t say anything, simply spreading her legs wide open in front of him, as a silent invitation to do with her as he pleased. He still felt amused by the mix of emotions that passed on her face as he stepped closer, as if she couldn’t believe that she was about to take his cock inside her already wet and needy pussy.

She leaned back, pressing her back against the mirror behind her as he gently pushed his tip into her, his gaze focused on what he was doing. She gasped and he kept slowly pushing himself in, the feeling of her warm folds engulfing his erection even better than what he had imagined it would be.

He buried himself all the way in, both of them gasping at the sensation. He knew she would take him in easily - after all, she was already trained to perfectly accommodate his size - but he never thought it would be this intense for him.

He slowly rocked his hips to get his cock sliding back and forth inside her, causing her to gasp a few more times as he already tensed and fought the urge to cum right away. He didn’t want this to be over, not this quickly, and especially not before proving her that he was capable of giving her more pleasure than her toy ever could. Who knew, maybe she’d like it so much that she’d use him as her new toy whenever she was in need of relief ?

When he finally felt able to peel his eyes away from the spectacle of his cock repeatedly plunging inside her, he reached for her shirt, popping a few buttons open with one habile hand so that he could have a better view of how her boobs were moving in synch with his thrusts.

“Maybe we should move to the stall, what if someone walks in on us ?” She said, breathless from how much the force of his thrusts had increased.

“Didn’t you say you liked the idea of strangers watching you getting mercilessly fucked ?” He replied, a smirk on his lips as her body tensed in reaction to his words, proving that she enjoyed the possibility so much that it was about to push her over the edge. “I wouldn’t mind either, as long as I’m the only person allowed to shove my cock inside you.”

She moaned, louder than what she ever did, feeling herself slipping away into bliss. She closed her eyes, completely losing control over how loudly she enjoyed herself, reaching the peak of her pleasure so violently that her whole body shook.

Her walls tightened around his shaft, so tightly that it forced him to stop his thrusts and immobilize his body as hers contracted around him and she cried out his name once again except that, this time, he really was the reason why she felt so good. His cock instantly reacted by shooting loads of warm cum inside her, until his balls were left empty.

He tried to catch his breath, suddenly feeling dizzy from the intensity of the orgasm that seized him. He held himself to the sink under her still shaking body, and gently pulled his spent cock out of her, a ribbon of his sticky seed still connecting his tip to her glistening folds.

“You could have had the curtesy to pull out.” She complained, her chest still heaving and her legs still numb.

“Sorry.” Was all he managed to say, even though he wasn’t sorry at all. There was something utterly satisfying in knowing that he had filled her up with his load, marking her as his, if only for a moment.

(( Masterlist ))

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flowerandblood · 6 months

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The Temple of the War

[ Ares • Ettore x Aphrodite • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, hate sex, smut, angst, violence, domination, swearing, marital infidelity ]

[ description: Although she thought it would be a fleeting affair, her disturbing relationship with the god of war only deepens, condemning them both to any attempt to reach an agreement. However, her brother loses his patience, wanting to find out what his lover gave Paris in exchange for the apple that Hera and Athena also deeply desired. ]

This is part 2 of The Temple of the God but it can be read as a standalone story. 💕

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

She wasn't sure she had ever felt anything like she did then, that night, as his heavy, sweaty, muscular body lay on top of hers, his hot breath enveloping her cheek as the last waves of pleasure and heat surged through her.

She stroked his smooth buttocks with her hands feeling his hips rock softly in some natural, subconscious reflex, his half-soft manhood still throbbing deep inside her.

She heard him swallow hard and grunt before he rose up on his elbows, looking down at her with his lips slightly parted, sliding out of her slowly with a quiet click of her moisture, rising up on his knees, stepping off her bed as if nothing had happened, making her press her lips together, disappointed.

"Are you going to simply walk away?" She asked coldly, saw him stop in his half-step, glancing over his shoulder at her, some kind of shock in his eyes, as if she had surprised him.

"Hm?"

"Are you going to leave me like this?"

He looked at her dully, clearly not understanding what she meant, what he was supposed to do now, what more she expected of him.

She realised, sighing heavily with disapproval, that after his aggressive rapprochements with women he was simply leaving them, going back to his own affairs, thinking no more of them, not knowing the tenderness of embraces, of soft, dreamy kisses, of hands trailing over warm, soft, naked bodies, of peaceful, deep sleep after an intense closeness.

"What do you demand of me, sister?" He asked her impassively like a soldier asking his commander for an order; she raised herself up on her elbows, looking at him intensely.

"I do not demand. Do you desire that I should now, after you have warmed me, be left alone in a cold bed?" She asked regretfully. She saw him blink, his eyebrows raised, his gaze quickly traveling over her naked, bared flesh, his Adam's apple waved hard as he swallowed loudly.

"That is not my desire." He replied calmly, looking at her expectantly, his silhouette frozen in stillness like a marble statue, the same kind people placed to honour them in their temples.

She nodded, moving aside, looking at him expectantly. He hummed under his breath, his gaze softening a tad as he lay down beside her lazily, sighing quietly through his nose, watching her, his large hand in some simple, primitive gesture rising to her breast, squeezing it uncertainly. He lifted his gaze to her face, apparently wanting to see if he was causing her pain again as he had when he had first done it.

Something about how direct, how roughly honest he was captivated her; years of poetic chants under her windows, long, theatrical declarations of love that in the end turned out to be lies had tired her.

She thought, surprised, that perhaps such a change would do her some good.

Surprise flashed through his gaze as she moved closer to him, placing her hand on his, encouraging him not to stop, laying her body on her side facing him, looking straight into his face, for the first time so shamelessly, so closely.

His facial features were sharp, as if the sculptor had struck the stone with his chisel too brutally and without finesse, his mouth full, his eyes as dark as the night around her. He shuddered and swallowed hard, drawing in quiet breath as her hand rose tentatively to his cheek, closed his eyes as her fingertips brushed over his warm, soft skin.

She ran her hand like this over his exposed flesh, over his jaw, his neck, his collarbones, his shoulders, his chest, feeling him flinch as waves of heat surged through his body, the flick of her fingers leaving a trail of his goosebumps behind.

He opened his eyes as she suddenly took her hand away, placing it casually against her body, the fingers of his hand from her breasts slid down to her waist and from it to her buttocks, squeezing it, pushing her closer to him with a sure, soft movement, she felt his hard manhood on her stomach, ready again for him to possess her.

Though she wanted to protest, she let him take her for the second time that night, her folds slick from his seed and her moisture allowed him to slip easily into her hot interior, a low, animal grunt of satisfaction came from his throat as he threw her thigh against his waist, spreading her wide on his fat cock.

"I can do this all night, sister. You know I can." He exhaled with a hint of menace, from which her lips parted in a shy moan as her walls clenched around him tightly, making him gasp. He accelerated his pace, his free hand clenching in her hair, forcing her to look straight into his empty black eyes as he pounded aggressively into her again and again with loud splats of his thighs against her buttocks.

"This is what you want, isn't it? You despise these poets. Those weak, little boys. You don't believe them, because what's the truth in their pretty words? Hm? This is the truth, sister." He breathed out, and for some reason she clamped her hand on his broad chest and kissed him, heard his low groan of surprise, his tongue came out to meet her immediately, licking her encouragingly, teasing her with the very tip as she longed for him to slide it deep down her throat.

"− take care of me, brother −" She whispered in surprise as her voice trembled, as she felt tears under her eyelids, wishing for someone to protect her, for someone to watch over her, to be safe in someone's arms at last.

She felt him quiver all over, he gasped loudly as if he had waited his whole life for those very words, his hands clenched painfully tight on her hair and bare buttock, forcing her to fit him all the way in as deeply as he desired. Both of them moaned helplessly as they came out to meet their bodies, entwined together like vines, sweaty and hot with desire, his cock throbbing intensely inside her, betraying that he was close to fulfilment.

She thought in disbelief that he truly desired her all this time.

This rapprochement was more tender, more passionate than the first one, shamelessly close, her breasts pressed against his chest, their fingers digging into the naked skin of their bodies, their legs thrown over each other, making it so that if either of them wanted it, they couldn't break free.

"− beg −" He growled like a wild animal, panting right into her mouth, so she begged, again, again and again; she didn't even know when warm tears of relief and regret ran down her cheeks, his hot, accelerated breath enveloping her face, their kisses were an aggressive, wet dance of their tongues and lips, loud and slick.

After his last few desperate, deep, confident thrusts she was sure that all Olympus heard their groans of pleasure as they both finally reached their peak.

"− stay inside me −" She mumbled out, panting heavily along with him once the first waves of pleasure flowed through their bodies. She heard him hum under his breath; she knew he was grinning mischievously, his hand in a careless, lazy motion pressed her cheek against his chest, all wet from exertion.

"− sleep −"

Despite his command, she got no rest that night, and though she slept only for her own pleasure, unlike mortals do not need it every day, never before had anyone fucked her as many times in a row as he had, and as their brother, Helios, appeared in his chariot lighting up the sky, they both breathed heavily, his face snuggled into her bare, sweaty shoulder, one of his hands on her breast, the other on her womb.

"You will bear my children." He ordered, as if it was an obvious decision to which he was sure they were both agreed. She closed her eyes, sighing quietly, knowing that if he was going to leave this amount of his seed deep inside her frequently, for her to carry his legacy under her heart was only a matter of time.

She had no intention of denying him that.

To her surprise, he had visited her every night since that day, leaving his barracks late at night, returning there only at dawn.

He wanted her to satisfy him in every way possible.

She wasn't sure if he preferred to watch his fat cock thrust deep down her throat or between her thighs, she noticed, however, that as she caressed him with her tongue and her lips, licking and sucking him unhurriedly, sounds came from his throat that she hadn't heard before, higher and more helpless, as if the sight of her like this, with her mouth full of his swollen manhood, completely overwhelmed him.

"− f-fuck − faster −" He was panting then, clamping his fingers tighter on her soft hair, forcing her to quicken her pace, as impatient as always, wanting only to come down her throat as quickly as possible, the head of his cock hitting the back of her throat again and again, making her gag.

Out of sheer mischief, she gave the tip of his length a few encouraging, teasing licks of her pink, fleshy tongue, feeling his body quiver then, his hot spend spilling deep down her throat with his loud curses and groans of pleasure.

She swallowed everything he gave her, feeling him watching her; he hissed quietly, tilting his head back, clamping his hand warningly on her hair as she began to suck him again, his manhood twitching vigorously between her lips and throbbing, oversensitive after his fulfilment. However, after a moment he gave in, allowing her to repeat the whole process, his gaze hazy, hot, his lips puffy with desire and emotion.

"− sister −" He whispered then, completely absorbed in his deepest thoughts in a way that sent shivers down her spine, betraying what he truly wanted.

She could rarely count on him reciprocating in a similar way, but when he did he was merciless, eating her like a starved man; his tongue forced its way aggressively inside her, pressing and licking the bud between her muscles from which she was shaken again and again by waves of pleasure, his nose pressed against her pearl, his fingers digging into the soft, smooth skin of her hips, not letting her escape even when she begged him to stop.

She could hear his mocking grunt then, his dark eyes shining suddenly with a dangerous gleam, one that sent a cold sweat running down her back, he swapped his lips for his cock then, all hard and swollen from listening to her moans.

Rumours of their affair spread quickly across Olympus. Hermes tried to lay a trap for them, jealous of her and the fact that she had never let him possess her, however, when her fierce lover caught him in the act he would have nearly killed him with brutal, swift blows of his fist, if only their brother wasn't immortal.

Though still silent, cold and distant, in his own way he responded to her request, protecting her the way he was capable of.

"What have you done?" He asked her one day, infuriated, startling her, opening the door to her chamber with a loud slam, bursting inside at noon in full armour, his jaw clenched, his nostrils quivering in anxious breath.

He was furious.

She swallowed hard, putting aside her embroidery, looking at him in disbelief.

"What do you mean, brother?"

"What did you give him for that fucking apple? Hm? What did you give him to satisfy your vanity? Did you suck his cock? Did you let him come deep inside you?" He hissed coldly, walking towards her like an enraged, ferocious animal with the loud clang of his gilded steel armour, ready to hit her, to hurt her, to pierce her with his sword, to destroy her in every way possible.

She rose from her seat, furrowing her brow.

"I gave him what he asked for. I give him Helen of Sparta."

She saw him stop, hesitation in his eyes, as if he was comparing her words with his knowledge. He swallowed loudly, his broad chest rising and falling quickly in accelerated, heavy breaths.

"How."

She turned her face towards the large windows of her chamber open to the view of the halves and rivers around Olympus and sighed loudly.

"He wished to possess her. I described to him her desires and her weaknesses. How he could make her content."

"This whore ran away with him. The Achaeans declared war on the Trojans." He growled low. She looked at him wrinkling her brows and snorted, shrugging her shoulders.

"The God of War does not rejoice that in the name of love blood will be shed again? I do not follow your desires, brother."

"Be silent, woman. Do not speak on my behalf." He grunted warningly, looking at her with a sharp, piercing gaze from which she felt a drop of cold sweat run down her bared back. She smirked involuntarily and laughed helplessly, shaking her head.

"It is you who speak on my behalf, boasting before your brothers and comrades that I believed your words and, out of feminine naivety, let you between my thighs. I gave you what you desired and you come and spit in my face, jealous that another man could reach for what you think is yours. No wonder our father didn't give you my hand."

She snarled, and he stared at her, the corner of his mouth raised slightly in a grimace that could be called a smile if not for his gaze, his eyes wide open, filled to the brim with fire and rage, his hands clenched into fists, his nostrils quivering with each of his deep breaths.

A silence filled with suffocating tension fell between them, the quiet singing of birds outside her chamber windows, the rustling of grass and leaves, the pleasant breeze around them, cool and crisp.

She knew he was going to do it, but still she was surprised that a few brisk steps from him were all it took for him to be in front of her, turning her violently with her back to him, clasping his hand in her hair.

She whined helplessly when her cheek hit the table top in front of her, and whimpered loudly when she heard his fingers tear the material of her thin robe at the height of her buttocks, the fat head of his cock pressed against her fleshy walls without any preparation, without any caress.

"Do you think I fucking brag about how much seed I left in your womb to my soldiers? I have killed hundreds of those who dared to dream aloud about you and your body with my own hands." He gasped through clenched teeth, imposing a violent, fast pace on her at once, thrusting furiously inside her with sure, deep stabs of his hips. She heard his low chuckle when all it took was for the thick tip of his cock to rub a few times against the spot inside her, for her quivering to begin to be accompanied by the loud clicks of her moisture.

"I know exactly what you're doing. You like to fucking tease me, don't you? You know the way I'll fuck you then, hm?" He growled, one of his hands pressing her head against the table, the other digging hard into the bare skin of her buttocks, pounding into her so fast and brutally that he didn't slide out.

She could tell that he was staring at the place where their bodies joined, at what he was doing to her, at how wide he was opening her on his fat, aching length.

"− yes −" She mewled, heard him sigh loudly as he fucked her relentlessly, sinking his short fingernails painfully hard into the delicate skin of her hip as if he was just waiting for this; they both began to moan low hearing how loudly their bodies slapped against each other again and again.

"− that's what I thought − fucking take it now −" He snarled mockingly; she felt his words do something to her, the sensation she was experiencing was on the verge of ecstasy from pain and pleasure.

She cried out loudly, mumbling something, probably his name and how pleasurable it was. She lost control of her body as her walls began to suddenly squeeze him, sucking him inside.

"− shut the fuck up − mghmm − s-sister − fuck −" He gasped and she heard him groan low, feeling her fulfilment, her moisture running down his thighs, his hot spend finally filling her womb with his loud sigh of relief.

He rocked his hips for a moment longer with a lewd, sticky slap of skin against skin, his grip eased and she sighed heavily, feeling immense relief, wonderful shivers ran through her body, something like a tickle throbbing at the tips of her fingertips, her lips and inside lower abdomen.

"− you should stop doing this − at least until you're carrying my child inside you − " He gasped; she could feel him looking at her, his manhood still pulsing deep inside her, his large hand slid lower, stroking her slightly rounded abdomen for a moment in a manner that could be described as tender.

"− I can't −" She mumbled out, ashamed at how pleasurable it was, how wonderful it felt to be out of control, that there was something she had no power over.

His element, his aggressiveness, his unpredictability attracted her, just as he was drawn to her understanding of his complex, violent nature.

He hummed under his breath and she closed her eyes as his free hand took the unruly curls of her hair from her face with a gentle flick of his wrist.

"− let this little boy fuck his Helen of Sparta − I'll support you in the coming war − I'll gladly spit in the face of Athena and your sweet husband −" He sneered, and she sighed in relief, pleased with his words, rising on her hands.

His strong arm embraced her at the waist, his free hand clamped down on her cheeks, turning her face in his direction, their lips pressed together in a greedy, sticky kiss. She heard his low, drawn-out murmur of satisfaction, his soft manhood still twiched deep inside her.

"− brother −" She whispered, his nose pressed against her hot cheek in a sudden, surprising surge of tenderness, his hand ran over her soft, smooth hair, only one more word left his lips.

"− undress −"

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whereireid · 1 year

Text

˚ · . 𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐂𝐒

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: miles quartich x fem!reader | masterlist.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: An unexpected visit from Colonel Miles Quaritch has you itching for relief.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: imbalances of power. unestablished relationships. degradation. unedited. nsfw content; dubious consent (sex pollen/aphrodisiacs.) nipple play, rough p in v, oral, male masturbation, breeding [knotting].

“They’re just stupid plants.” Quartich’s stern voice cuts through the thick and palpable tension which lingers in the air. His lips are pursed, his arms crossed over his chest in disapproval. “Stop gettin’ so worked up over it.”

Eyes narrowing, you can’t help the unamused scoff which slips past your lips. You can’t really comprehend the situation, your hand coming up to rub your forehead in annoyance. Not only has the Colonel invaded your office, he’s also managed to break various forms of surreptitious vegetation that you had sheathed away in jars.

One of those jars was stuffed full with a plant that secretes a mysterious liquid when threatened, which it very much was, considering the fact that Quaritch knocked it off your desk without bother, smashing the glass jar it sat in to pieces.

“They aren’t just plants,” you mumble, sighing as you sink to your knees and begin picking up the broken shards of glass, grimacing as your fingers swipe over the creamy, milky liquid which has pooled onto the marble flooring. “Have you learnt nothing about Pandora and the way of life since being here? Nothing is never really nothing. All things have a purpose.”

He scowls, his nostrils flaring slightly as he looks down on you. He’s only slightly intimidating, the shine of his boots catching your eyes as you awkwardly scoop the glass into the plastic bag. You’re still unsure as to why he’s actually in here, the reason for his invasion untold.

When he doesn’t speak, you do, your voice wobbling slightly. “Haven’t you gotten what you wanted, now? Can you just go?”

“Can’t you smell that?” Quaritch asks, his nose twitching slightly as he sniffs the air. You glance up at him, your face flushing as you notice his looming frame inches away from yours.

You hadn’t even heard him get any closer. “Um, no?”

His nose twitches again, and you try to hide the smile which graces your face as you realise that he holds a striking resemblance to that of a cat when he inhales so desperately. As you stand to your full height, you lose your grip on the plastic bag as you’re met with your head level with his crotch.

If he’s heard the glass shatter again, he doesn’t comment on it. “It smells so sweet,” he says instead, his voice low and his hands reaching towards your shoulders. The touch makes you feel hot, sending sparks shooting through your body, and you feel a strange, tingling sensation brushing over the nerves of your fingertips, where you’d brushed over the mysterious creamy liquid accidentally. “Can you really not smell that?”

Quaritch’s voice is husky, riding through you in a smooth wave, and his grip on your shoulders tightens. His fingers dig into your collarbone, and you close your eyes, trying to ignore the way your body feels like it’s being set alight by his touch. You lean into him, your throat growing tight as you inhale deeply, trying to make sense of what he’s saying.

Then, it succumbs you. Warmth rolls through your body, goosebumps peppering up and down your skin as you breathe in a deep, sickly-sweet smell. It makes you grow hot, and your brows knit together as you open your eyes, staring up at the Colonel.

“Oh my god, what have you done?” You breathe out, accusation lacing your tone. You swat his hand away, and you can feel the imprint of his fingertips burning your skin.

A bead of sweat rolls down your forehead, and you watch as Quaritch looks down on you, confusion littering his features.

“I haven’t done nothin’,” he protests, his nose crinkling as he inhales deeply. “You need better ventilation in this god damn office, get rid of this smell.”

“There is no smell!”

“It’s so god-damn hot in here,” he practically snarls, his eyes fluttering shut, lashes kissing his cheekbones. His tail thrashes in irritation behind him, his blue skin glistening with sweat as he lowers himself closer to your height. “You and the other science pukes always work in such heat?”

“You need to go,” you murmur, and you press against his chest. Quartich doesn’t waver, his hard, green eyes staring into yours. “Colonel, you — you need to leave.”

His eyes flash over your features, unimpressed by how irritable you’re being. His palms cup your shoulders, enveloping your body, and your knees weaken at his touch. “And you need to calm down, darlin’.”

Darling. Anger bubbles up in your chest, irritated by his choice of words, but as his thumb swipes over your shoulder, a different feeling entirely bubbles inside of you. It boils — makes your body feel scorching hot, and your breath hitches in your throat as you push against Quaritch’s stomach.

“This is your fault! You destroyed the plant,” you complain, your hands shaking as you feel his muscles ripple and tense beneath his tank top. “You have absolutely no idea what you’ve done, and you don’t care, and you really should get out now!”

Sniffing the air again, ears flitting, Quaritch lets out a quiet hum. He’s incredibly observant, his thumb still swiping back and forth on your shoulder, his body so exceptionally large compared to yours. “What’ve I done? Broken a god-damn plant?” His brows knit together in frustration, and as you raise your fist to swat him away again, he catches your wrist in his hand. “You need to calm down, darlin’. If you’re that bothered, I’ll go and get you another one — there’s thousands in that fuckin’ forest.”

Stomach twisting into a knot, your body thrums with anticipation. With desire. Though he’s holding you so loosely, you know that even a small clenching of his fists could result in your wrist being snapped almost completely in half, and you gaze at him with doe eyes.

“That plant is the reason your sense of smell is heightened.”

Quaritch’s nose crinkles again. The air smells sweet and warm, although anytime he diverts his attention away from you, it disappears. It’s like you’re the one who smells good; ravishing, in fact — desirable enough to eat.

“Jesus Christ, darlin’, what the hell are you talkin’ ‘bout? My sense of smell is heightened because I’m a god-damn Avatar—"

“Those — those flowers, in those jars, that you broke,” you breathe out, your heart fluttering as his thumb softly grazes your skin, “us ‘science pukes’ didn’t know what they were. We found them on the coast of Awa’atlu, and we didn’t have the proper equipment to know what they were at the time, but now I know, and it’s your fault, and you need to leave!”

The confidence in your tone wavers slightly as Quaritch brings dips his head. His nose softly grazes over your wrist, and a low growl rumbles in his chest as he inhales your scent.

“What’re you tryna tell me?”

He holds your wrist in place, nuzzling his head into your skin. It’s feral, it’s weird, and it’s surprising — this is Colonel Miles Quaritch, and your nose crinkles as you realise he’s absentmindedly scenting himself with you, something that happens in Na’vi mating rituals.

“Colonel, I—”

“— What’re those plants?”

You drag your eyes away from the wall, finally meeting his eyes. It feels like you’ve just taken a blow, instinctively recoiling as you notice his black, blown pupils. You don’t manage to recoil far, his grip on your wrist so tight, so possessive, and you let out a soft whimper as all the green within his irises appear sheathed by the dilation of his lust.

“They’re — they’re aphrodisiacs,” you blurt, trying to dull down the hammering of your heart. Your insides feel insatiably warm as he stares at you, unblinking, so domineering, so handsome, so big.

Your skin prickles as he inhales again. He’s so close, marking himself with your scent, and you curse yourself for even letting him in here in the first place. He must be horny — he just doesn’t know it yet. It’s bubbling inside of him, curling into a knot, and if he doesn’t leave soon, you’re going to the only one that can help unfray it.

Quartich doesn’t leave.

“You’re tellin’ me I just smashed a god-forsaken sex drug all over the god-damn floor?” He murmurs, stilling his motions. His cheeks are a dark, navy blush, his bioluminescent freckles sparkling like constellations.

You nod your head, trying not to show your fear as you stammer out, “that is exactly what I’m saying, sir,” you exhale, shakily, “and to make things worse, these aphrodisiacs are used primarily by Na’vi mates to, um, trigger an induced rut.”

“Rut?” Quaritch inquires, staring at you. His tail sways behind him, his skin feeling warm and itchy, his head growing fuzzy. “What the hell is a rut?”

You blink. You feel hot and confused, the excrement from the plant rendering you incredibly horny, and you find yourself leaning into his touch. Your knee brushes his inner thigh as you ask, “did they not teach you anything about the Na’vi mating rituals when they transferred you over to a recombinant?”

Instead of speaking, he just shakes his head. The side effect of the plant is affecting him, too — you can tell. His ears are pinned upright, his lips curling and exposing his canines. Impressively sharp, glinting in the light, and you have to hold back the urge to reach out and let him bite you. Your eyes flicker down absentmindedly, and you notice the strain in his cargo trousers from where he’s became erect, and your breath hitches in your throat as his spare hand reaches over to graze across your neck.

“Mating is sacred to the Na’vi. Aphrodisiacs are used to ensure that once two mates commit tshaelyu, they can breed until satisfied.” You notice the Colone’s jaw tick as you speak, his tongue sliding over his teeth as he thinks. “You don’t mate with just… anyone. Once you mate, you mate for life. Tshaelyu or not.”

A gasp slips past your lips as his hands glide over your neck, his thumb pressing into the base of your throat. “And what happens if I don’t get relief?” His southern drawl is strong, sending goosebumps darting across your skin. “If I don’t mate?”

Trying to swallow away the lump in your throat, you stare at him sheepishly. “You’ll be — you’ll be pent up until you do. Um, one of the primary side effects that the aphrodisiacs used by the Na’vi is that the recipient of the drug often has persistent—” His hands close around your throat, the foreign feeling of him gently pressing against your trachea causing tingles of desire to shoot over your body, “—persistent, um, epididymal hypertension.”

“English, darlin’.”

“Blue balls,” you stumble out, your breath hitching in your throat as the Colonel pulls you closer, his nostrils flaring as he runs his nose against your collarbone. “It’s basically blue balls.”

A groan slides past his lips as his nose pushes into the crook of your neck, and you try to hold back the whine which threatens to slip past your own. This is so wrong — he’s so intimately close to you that he’s setting your body alight with desire, but he’s the only cool stimulant to your burning skin.

“I already have those, sweetheart.” His lips tug into an amused smirk as your lips part in surprise, your cheeks flushing with warmth at his lewd statement. His palm presses into your throat slightly, and he hums as your eyelids flitter shut. “You’re sweatin’. This little drug havin’ an effect on you too, darlin’?”

Shaking your head, you try to ignore the wrenching of your heart as his fingers begin slide down to towards your chest. Everywhere that his hand graces is left cool, a reminder that you need to get relief soon. “No,” you lie, your voice wavering as he idly twirls the pendant which sits between your breasts. “No, um— oh, god— no.”

A soft moan is dragged from your throat as Quaritch’s hand brushes over your breasts through your blouse. “You lyin’ to me?” He asks, tilting his head to the side as he brings his other hand towards your chest, rubbing the swell of your chest through your blouse. “You sayin’ this don’t feel good? That all of your senses aren’t heightened?”

“There are — there are machines created by the biology team to help you through your rut.” You grit your teeth as he touches you, avoiding his question. Shame washes through your body, and it feels so good but so wrong — this is the Miles Quaritch that you’re being touched by! “Please, use them. They’ll help!”

“And what about you, sweetheart? What’re you going to use to get your relief?” Green eyes so blown and blackened you can no longer see his irises at all — an eerie black sheen just stares back at you, and you flinch as in one swift motion, he rips your blouse apart, your buttons scattering all over your office floor. “No answer? That’s okay, darlin’. You don’t have to speak. In fact, I don’t want you to.”

He dips his head slightly, his teeth dragging over the skin of your neck. “Good girls don’t talk unless they’re spoken to.”

Your eyelids flutter, your belly twisting with an insatiable desire as Quaritch gently unclips your bra, his motions calm and collected. You know he’s burning with just as much arousal as you — you can see a small bead of sweat pooling by his browline, but he’s staying cool and composed, his tongue running over his lips as your bra drops to the floor.

You open your mouth to speak, but he shushes you. “You been hidin’ these away, sweetheart?” He breathes, his head tilting down towards your chest, his tongue darting out to slowly swirl around one of your nipples. “God, they’re fuckin’ huge. Look big even in my hands.”

Gently, his lips wrap around the sensitive nub. You gasp, the spark which blazes inside of you now descending into a roaring wildfire, electricity pulsing through you as he purrs against your chest. It’s a foreign sensation, a feeling that you’ve never explored — but now you really wish that you had, because the feeling of his tongue and lips grazing over your nipples has your legs trembling.

His mouth latches onto your nipple, and your eyes flicker down to his face. You really wish that you hadn’t looked at him, because the sight forces a moan out of your mouth. His eyes are lust-filled, blown with desire, his eyes set on yours, his lips swollen as they suck softly at your chest. You squirm, your panties growing slick with your arousal.

“This is wrong.”

“I can smell you. You don’t think it’s that wrong, darlin’.”

Your head bows in shame.

“You want me to touch you? Want me to make it go away?”

He pinches your nipple with his teeth, and you exhale shakily. His canine grazes over the nub. Any sharper and he'll draw blood, and you flex your fingers in pain.

You screw your eyes shut, voice wavering as you force out, “yes, please, Colonel.”

Your pleading works, as his hand darts towards your thighs, beckoning them apart. You waste no time in opening them for him, your eyes rolling backwards slightly as he gently bites down on your nipple. Every nerve inside of you is lit, blazing and burning wilding. The concoction of the sex pollen and his unruly desire has you mewling, the skirt that you’re wearing allows him easy access. Your breath catches in your throat as his fingers glide other your clothed folds, a soft purr rumbling through him as he notes how wet and slick you are.

Face growing warmth with embarrassment, you almost falter and move away. You don’t know why you’re letting him touch you — but it feels amazing. He pushes your underwear to the side, and a whine becomes hitched in your throat as his fingers push inside of your cunt, the burning of his intrusion making you jolt.

“Ow!” Your hands plant themselves on his shoulders, pushing slightly as he scissors your walls. “That hurts!”

He smiles, but he isn’t best pleased. “Course it hurts. I’m more than twice your size, darlin’.” His voice is eerily steady, his eyes flicking across your face. “You need to learn to stop speakin’ if you haven’t been spoken to.”

His fingers curl inside of you, and in response, your hands curl in his tank top. You need him, now. Your hips buck against him, your walls fluttering around his fingers as he laps at your chest eagerly. Quaritch’s movements are precise, deliberate, each flicker of his tongue sending electricity through you, causing your body to drown in heat.

Again, Quaritch bites at your nipple, this time doing it simultaneously with the curling of his fingers. It hurts, the sensation causing tears to bubble in your eyes. The feeling of your sensitive nipple being pressed between his sharp canines has you gasping in pain, but you’re so wet and full that it doesn’t feel like it matters, a sultry twinge pulsing through you at the lewd action.

He fills you so perfectly, and your fingers curl into his shoulders as he flicks his fingers out every few seconds. He hums as droplets of your slick hit the office floor, pooling alongside the milky, white excrement of the plant, his lips curling upwards into a satisfied grin. "So wet for your Colonel," he praises, "so perfect and tight. You feel good?"

Your lips part as you hump against his hand, your skin burning a fever as you respond, "yes, yes, I feel so good!"

“That’s a good girl. Buckin’ into my hand, making it all nice and wet. Oh, darlin’, you’re so sensitive. You gonna cry?” His fingers push into you, your walls growing tight in appreciation. “God, I want you to cry. Come on, sweetheart, cry when you cum on your Colonel’s fingers.”

It’s all too much; his hot mouth suckling at your chest, the feeling of his digits pressing against the sensitive spot inside of your cunt. The names he’s calling you, the name’s he’s calling himself — it’s dirty and it’s wrong, but it soothes the shameful desire which blazes inside of you.

“Can I?” You exhale breathily, heat pooling inside your stomach as he continues to toy with you. “Can I cum, please?”

“Please what?”

“Please, Colonel?”

Your eyes are closed so tight that you see stars. His silence is looming, and you cry out as you attempt to take a deep breath, your breathing become shaky and ragged. You wail as he curls his fingers inside of you, your chest heaving and growing tight. You need to cum, and you need it now, unable to hold back the feeling which washes over you.

As though he can read your mind, Quartich says, “yes, darlin’, you can cum for me.”

Your body writhes against him, and you whimper, nodding eagerly at his words. You’re glad that he’s so buried into your chest, unable to see the swirl of emotions which paint your face. You’re shrouded by pleasure, dumbed out by the hot sparks which flicker through your body. You’re convulsing, warmth shooting through every nerve, your cunt growing slick as he rolls his fingers against the spongy spot inside of you.

Once you come down, you feel strangely numb. Satisfied. Quartich’s breath is still hot, but you feel cool. Satisfied. You’re lax against him, your eyes squeezed shut as you feel his lips pepper soft kisses to your chest.

Tears have stained your cheeks, burn the corners of your eyes, and Quaritch stares down at you in admiration, in awe. He'd never seen anything so pretty in his life, and he growls slightly as you blink the tears away.

“Open your legs.” His voice is booming, and you blink back at him in confusion. His fingers press into your thighs, and you yelp, doing as he says. “Don’t make me repeat myself. When I ask you to do somethin’, I only want to ask once."

“Yes, Colonel.”

Quaritch can see the evident confusion flitter across your face, but he doesn’t care. He isn’t bothered. His cock is straining against his cargo trousers, and he feels so hot and bothered, so overwhelmed with his desire and lust for you. He needs to taste you, needs to drown in your sweet nectar. There’s nothing quite as satisfying as the sight of your slick, glistening cunt, he decides as he forces your underwear off, the cloth now pooled around your ankles.

“Maybe this was a blessin’ rather than a curse,” he comments, his hands pressing against your plush thighs as he presses hungry kisses to the areas of skin not covered by his own. “You know, you’re the only scientist here hot enough to take a peek at.”

“I—” Your body trembles slightly as his teeth graze against your skin, his digits leaving marks into on your soft flesh. “Thank… you?”

Humming, Quaritch’s nose twitches as he presses it against your inner thigh. He’s tired of waiting — your cunt is so, so close, and it’s so wet and needy for him. “You’re welcome, darlin’.” He pauses from between your legs, and you gasp as he jolts you forward, his nose nuzzling into your pelvis bone. “Gonna eat this pretty little pussy now, sweetheart, and then I’m gonna fuck it so hard, you won’t be able to walk.”

At first, the sensation is strange. Unfamiliar and wrong. His tongue is rough, painful as it glides past your folds, the muscle mesmerising as it rides up and down your cunt. Then, however, he does what you need him to do the most — his tongue teasingly rolls up your slits, towards the pearl which sits swollen at the top of your pelvis, and it swirls around it.

“Oh, fuck,” you mumble, your thighs trembling involuntary, the plush of your flesh being indented by his harsh grip. “Ohmygod.”

“You like that, sweetheart?” He purrs, and it vibrates against you. It’s powerful, precise, and it’s much better than your vibrator.

“Yeah,” you agree absentmindedly, your eyes fluttering shut as he continues to lap at your cunt like a man starved.

Pulling away momentarily, you feel your heart leap out of your chest as you look at him. A string of spit is carried from your folds to his lips, and he lets out a breathy chuckle. “Mmm, this pretty little pussy is so swollen and so needy for its Colonel,” he comments, before he dips his head again, his tongue going back to its previous movements. "So wet and swollen and fuckin' puffy."

The feeling of Quaritch nestled inbetween your thighs makes your stomach clench, your walls fluttering. You’re burning a fever, again, and you can feel how hot his own face is now that it’s pressed against your cunt. The effect of this Aphrodisiac is too much, too overwhelming, and you wonder how he’s managing to roll his tongue up and down your cunt without pleasuring you once.

Then, it hits you — soft sounds of grunting fill your ears, and your eyes flicker back down to him. You can’t help but audibly moan as you see him stroking his cock, which is hard and beading with cum, in a slow, steady motion. He’s rutting into his hand, his grip tight, and your eyes roll backwards as he nuzzles into your cunt, licking and lapping, sucking at the heat. His motions are sloppy, his tongue being particularly attentive to your overwhelmingly sensitive bundles of nerves.

You don’t know if it’s just the drug anymore, because Quaritch’s groaning is like music to your ears. His tongue draws patterns on your clit, his breathing growing heavy as he laps sloppily at your cunt. He’s eager to please, desperate to drown in the sweet taste of your cum, and he listens to every mewl and whine, bucking into his hand every time you roll his name on your own tongue.

Moans growing breathy, you softly grind into his face. His nose presses against your pelvis bone as he grazes his teeth against your clit, his tongue swirling, his lips suckling at the bundle of nerves. He knows what you want, what you’re about to do, and it only encourages him further.

It feels like there’s a knot inside of you that breaks when you cum. It’s being torn and twisted, your stomach clenching as you cry out. You stop bucking against him, your ears ringing as you cum, your hands curling in Quaritch’s short hair.

You try to calm your hammering heart, try to relax, but you involuntarily tense as you’re seized by his rough hands. His rough tongue laps at your cunt, sliding through your folds, his tongue drawing lazy circles on your sensitive nub. Your muscles tense as you convulse, pulling and pushing him away simultaneously.

“Oh, that’s it, darlin’.” He lets out a breathy laugh as he pulls away, a lewd trail of slick following him. “Jesus Christ, you were pent up. Squirted all over me.”

“I’m sorry,” you squeak as his fingers curl into your thighs, his rough hands turning you around so your ass is facing him.

Behind you, he coos. “Oh, don’t apologise, sweetheart. You bein’ nice and wet only helps.”

There isn’t an audible warning. The only time you have to prepare is when you feel Quaritch’s tip rolls through your puffy folds, slapping lewdly against your slick cunt in order to obtain more lube.

The sting is unbearable at first. His cock is massive — bigger than anything you’ve ever tried, and a choked cry escapes your mouth as his tip breaches your swollen cunt, your walls sheathing him instantly.

“Holy fuck,” he hisses from behind, watching as your cunt swallows his cock inch by inch, his girth stretching you unbearably thin, “this pretty little pussy is just eatin’ me alive.”

You whine, and Quartich softly palms your ass as he spreads your thighs further apart, urging your body to take him. “You’re huge. Na’vi shouldn’t mate with humans, Colonel—“

“—‘S too late now. I’ve already chosen you.”

It's like he's splitting you in half. His thrusts are slow, sloppy, edging you closer and closer to being utterly destroyed. There's something rhythmic about his movements, something soothing, his palm on your ass cool.

Your feverish, fuzzy mind blocks out any forms of rationality as you let him take you. Your cunt flutters around his cock as his tip brushes against your cervix, impossibly hard; again and again and again.

"God, this hurts," you mumble, shuddering as Quaritch's fingers dart downwards to toy with your puffy, sensitive clit, his digits gliding through your sticky folds, "too big."

Feral, like an animal, Quaritch's nose nuzzles against your wrist, his teeth sinking into the skin softly. He bites you; draws blood, paints his tongue crimson with the metallic taste of your wound. You pull, tug away from him, your cunt throbbing, the heat of the room too much.

Suffocating, no, drowning in the insatiable warmth, you buck against him. It hurts — he hurts, and he mouths you again, nuzzling his teeth into your wrist, insatiably biting you, marking you; palming at your ass like it belongs to him.

"So tight," Quaritch grunts, "so small," his hands come around to your stomach, palming the plump flesh softly, "bet you'd love to be nice and round, pumped fill with my babies? Have a little half-breed?"

You let out a quiet whimper. Your skin itches, burns with desire, and with each sluggish roll of his hips, your head lulls.

"Answer me when I'm talkin' to you," he says, his teeth biting down on your wrist. Your head angles back so you can see him; and he looks so animalistic; so delicious, and you nod your head weakly.

"Yeah," you choke out, "I want a little half-breed."

Bent almost in half, skin glistening with sweat and spit, you let Quaritch take you. The white, milky excrement from the plant is still pooled on the floor, and your eyes focus on the way it drips from each stem, trying to calm your racing heart.

"I knew you would," he follows up, "you little fuckin' freak. Wonder how many of your little scientist friends would feel betrayed, knowin' you're bein' mated by a fuckin' recom."

Your eyes tilt backwards slightly. His balls slap lewdly against your ass, and warmth trickles into your lower tummy as he grips your flesh slightly. He's palming you, imagining your stomach more curvy and round; imagining you waddling around, pumped fill of his seed. God, you'd look so fucking hot, and he's not sure if it's just the Aphrodisiac making him feral anymore.

"Please," your voice wavers, "I'm gonna—"

"—Cum for me, darlin'," he says, his tongue rolling against the marks he's left peppered on your wrist, "squeeze me nice an' tight, let me fill this pretty little pussy up."

"Oh, god, please," you cry out as his hips roll into yours; his body beginning to chase his own high.

The sheer size of him is overwhelming. With each thrust, you can feel your tummy bulge — he can almost stroke himself through your navel, and he gives your plump flesh a soft squeeze as he continues to thrust into you. Green eyes darting towards the area in which your body links, Quaritch let out a guttural, animalistic growl as he notes the way a ring of arousal paints his stripey, blue cock white, his grip on your body tightening.

Disoriented and confused, fuzzy with lust, your body begins to tremble. Your thighs burn, unable to hold yourself up anymore, and your cunt flutters and squeezes his cock; desperate to feel him closer than he already is, although it's practically impossible.

"That's it," he praises, "come undone for me, my fuckin' — fuckin' cockdrunk cumslut," he grits his teeth, swatting your ass, "this perfect fuckin' pussy is going to be dripping with my seed."

Choked, stuttered moans crawl out of your throat, slipping past your lips in a beautiful melody as you come undone. Your body feels spent, worn, used; beautifully broken, limp as Quaritch continues to fuck into you — the Colonel, your Colonel. Your eyes gloss over, still focusing on the milky liquid pooled on the floor, your breathy shaky as your juices coat his cock, wetting his cock.

"Ow," you whine, "it's sore."

"I'm right behind you," he forces out, his eyes screwing shut as he lets himself go.

Your walls flutter around him as he cums, the aftershock of your orgasm pulsing throughout your body.

Something weird happens, though — the warmth blooms within you as opposed to dulling, a painful throbbing sensation pulsing in-between your legs. You pull, press against Quaritch's body, but his teeth have sunk into your wrist, his hands holding you against him, keeping you trapped.

"You've — you've knotted me," you breathe, bewildered, "you've knotted me."

His hot breath fans your ears, his grip on you tightening as he pulls you closer. "I know," he grunts, his cock still insatiably hard inside of you, "I'm gonna make sure I give you that god-damned half-breed baby you want."

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roosterbruiser · 2 years

Note

A blurb about Jake with an introverted SO who surprises him with lingerie. Jake teases her, but is super feral!

𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤-𝐮𝐩 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤

𝐚 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞

Jake has always been more outgoing than you. It's part of the reason you're together: you were the shy girl at The Hard Deck just trying to survive a night of socialization with her friends and he was the life of the party that was beating everyone in darts. And for some reason, as soon as he saw you meekly standing in the corner nursing a lukewarm beer, he decided to set his sights on you.

It happened easier than you thought it would, honestly. He charmed you from the get-go, seemingly understanding right away that what you wanted was a breather. That night, after buying you and your friends drinks (a swoon-worthy Southern gentleman) and indulging in some friendly games of darts, Jake had asked if you wanted to take a walk down the shoreline.

He was enamored with you from the get-go. Even just the way your cheeks flooded with warmth when he asked and that little pathetic excuse for a nod made his heart race. And once he got you comfortable enough to have a conversation--ones where you laughed that big, throaty laugh and ranted about the importance of the Oxford comma--he knew he was done for.

Honestly, when you first saw Jake, you were certain that he was not the settling down type. And honestly, he didn't think he was either. But then he felt himself yearning for your touch first thing in the morning, before he even opened his eyes. He was thinking about you all day--Hell, he sent you so many songs and instagram memes that you'd have eons of notifications to check. He'd always just say reminded me of you or simply you lol.

Things were just easy between the two of you. Three (perfect) dates in and you were officially a couple. After a year together, he asked you to move in with him. A year after that, the two of you adopted the most pitiful pug in the pound. And now you have settled into a most ardent domesticity.

You're sitting on the kitchen counter now, waiting for him to come back from the gym. It should be any minute now, really, and you hope so because with every passing second that you sit on this marble countertop in this piece of clothing that hardly passes as clothing at all--you're losing your nerve. You've never worn lingerie for anyone before, but Jake isn't just anyone. He's your Jake. He's the only man in the world that could sway you to slip yourself into a mess of strap and lace.

Honestly, you're not even sure you have it on right. There were so many straps and moving parts and you didn't know how much was too much and the lady at the store wasn't here earlier to help adjust you. But when you looked in the mirror, when you saw all the hills and valleys of your body, you were taken back slightly. You looked good--not even just good. Sexy. You looked sexy.

But you're losing your nerve because you're worried he'll be too tired when he gets back from the gym. That and he'll want to take a shower. Maybe he'll even be hungry and you're sitting your almost-bare ass on the counter and, really, he makes sandwiches here so maybe he's gonna be pissed--

"Well, well, well," Jake's voice is suddenly echoing in the kitchen. "And what do we have here? If it ain't my little angel herself."

It startles you enough to jump and clutch your near-naked chest. He's standing in the doorway, dressed in athletic shorts and his running shoes, and he's positively dripping sweat. It's matting his hair and casting a sheen across his smooth skin. His chest is still heaving--probably because he likes to run on the treadmill to cool down, the fucking weirdo--and there is something wild in his eyes.

"Shit," you whispered sheepishly, straightening your spine and awkwardly poking your cleavage out towards him. "Didn't hear you come in."

Jake is all grins, eyes not-so-subtly raking across your seated form. He nods to your pug, who's resting stupidly peacefully on his dog bed without a care in the world.

"Maybe we need a better guard dog," Jake laughs.

You pout, shoulders deflating as your cheeks flood. You cross your arms over your chest, blowing a piece of teased hair from your eyes with a humph.

"I was supposed to be waiting for you. I had a line and everything."

There's a teasing dazzle in his eye when he quips back at you. "Want me to walk in again, angel?"

You shake your head, frowning.

"Won't be the same," you breathe.

He's taking a few steps closer to you, eyes lingering on the sinful line of cleavage that's just begging for his tongue to outline. But you're being sore about the whole ordeal, your vision of sexiness and allure shattered by being so lost in your own thoughts that you missed your cue.

"C'mon," Jake tries. "Tell me the line."

You're embarrassed now.

He stands between your legs, eyelashes fluttering slightly when he catches a whiff of that perfume you've doused yourself in; he bought it for you on your second anniversary and you wear it on special (and sexy) occasions. Nonetheless, he lets his hands come to rest on your thighs--they're soft and warm beneath his calloused hands. But dammit if you don't grow wet at just the feel of those fingers, at just the closeness between the two of you right now. He smells like he's been working hard--not outwardly bad, but odorous. You love it, frankly, and it's something he chides you for. And right now, as his thumbs rub little circles in the meat of your thighs, you're downright dizzy from being in such close proximity to him.

"Well--well, I was gonna be waiting in the kitchen, right?"

His hands are inching up, up, up your thighs. Delicately, he swipes his index fingers along the flowered edge of your lace. You shiver--God, does he know how to tease you.

"Accomplished," he teases, a bead of sweat rolling off his forehead and onto your knee as he leans forward to press a careful kiss to your nose. "Go on."

Now he's holding the bend of your hips, kissing a sweet line down your throat and trying not to moan at just the feeling of your skin beneath his lips. He hasn't shaved today, so his face is scratching you just right--it's tingling your fingers and toes, drawing heat to your core.

After another moment, as he's kissing your shoulders and carefully nipping at the complicated strap situation there, you swallow hard and push forward.

"Don't make me say it," you breathe, wrapping your arms around his neck and curling your fingers in the damp hair at the base of his neck. "It's stupid, baby."

Jake laughs softly, sucking a bruise on your collarbone, digging his thumbs into your hips.

"You can do it, baby," he whispers, hot breath fanning out over your goosed skin. "Do it for me--say it."

You're overwhelmed, so turned on that your mind is practically swimming in a pool of something thick and viscous. He's consuming you already and he's hardly even touched you.

"Iwasgonnaaskifyou'reintofitnessandthensayfitnesspussyinyourmouth," you usher out before you lose your nerve.

He freezes, processing everything you just said. His hands were just beginning to rise to the swell of your breasts, he was just beginning to grind his hard cock against the countertop in a desperate grab for friction, but now he's laughing.

And if anyone else were to laugh at you, you'd have been mortified. Hell, you'd be gone before they could even tone it down and wipe the tears from their cheeks. But it's Jake--he loves you. Hell, he adores you. And you get the distinct sense that he's not so much laughing at you than at your line interpretation.

His grinning face is pressed into your cleavage as he laughs and before you know it, laughter is bubbling up from your throat too.

"Oh, fuck, angel," he grins, pressing open-mouth kisses to your breasts. "I love you so much. You're my fuckin' dream girl."

You grin--entirely dithered.

"Is that why my legs are so tired?" You ask, biting your lip hard.

He raises his eyebrow at you, searching your face. The realization of what's coming next dawns on him and he shakes his head, eyes widening.

"Don't--!"

"--Cause I've been running through your dreams all night?"

He wrinkles his nose at you, but you're already doing a little victory dance, kissing his parted lips as he looks down at you in something between shock and utter surprise.

"Did you Google, like, the shittiest pickup lines and just run with it?"

You laugh again, shrugging.

"More or less," you say.

He sighs in content, nipping at your collarbone again. You gasp and he keens, coming up to just ghost his fingers over your hardened nipples.

Fuck--you love this softness. The way you two are able to seamlessly go between fits of laughter and raunchy sex is something you've never even come close to with anyone else.

"Want another?" You ask breathlessly.

He nods fervently against you, grinning into your sloppy kisses ad you hold his cheeks.

"So bad, angel," he moans.

You moan outwardly when he slips his fingers beneath the lace and pulls it down far enough to take your nipple in his warm mouth, carelessly stretching the lace as he wedges his hand into the other cup to pinch softly.

"I hope you're into yoga," you start breathlessly as he continues his ruthless assault on your sensitive buds, "cause--ah, baby--you're gonna get a good stretch tonight."

"That doesn't even make sense," he mutters against you, nipple still in his mouth as you thread your fingers through his locks and pull softly. "I'm the guy."

"Fuck, I don't know," you whimper, moving your hips towards him and settling your fingers in the waistband of his shorts. "Too wet to think straight."

"Then let's slide 'n' slide to the bedroom," he says.

You two promptly break out in laughter--tears streaming down your flushed cheeks, mouths wide open, chests aching. But then it resumes right after that, like it always does, when his hands come down over your ass to pull you to him.

here is my tag list!!

𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬! 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲, 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐛!

if you liked this, consider checking out my Jake x You story!

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logical-grave · 8 months

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✧ Pretty little thing ✧ Ch.2

♡ Pairing ♡ - Rafe Cameron x Plus Size!Reader

♡ Warnings ♡ - Public sex, Smut, some mean!Rafe again and some nice!rafe? Creampie, unprotected sex, dirty talk, some tit play, hurtful comments, and ofc unedited mistakes hehehe

♡ A/N ♡ - Erm I need this man biblically. Pls don’t lose respect for me hehe

♡ Word count ♡ - 2.7k

♡ Part 1 ♡

“Of course! Let me know if you need anything else.” My cheeks hurt due to the forced smile on my face, a side effect of my customer service persona. The serving tray in my hand was two seconds from toppling over, but I made it to the club guests with their drinks before that could happen. The older gentleman of the group slipped me a twenty, and I smiled, slyly taking it and stuffing it in the waistband of my skirt. Twenty was cheap. On a good day, I made close to twelve hundred in tips alone, but every penny counts, I guess.

“Hey sweetie.” Another man called for me and I rolled my eyes before turning to him with another forced smile. “How can I help you, sir?” I tucked the tray I held under my arm as the man approached me, toying with the racket in his hand. His partner busied himself by playing with a tennis ball like a golden retriever, and I stifled a chuckle. “Here,” he holds his racket out towards me, “play a game with us.”

My lips form into a tight-lipped smile, looking at him with hesitation. “I should get back to work.” A dry chuckle follows my words, and he makes an unsatisfied face. “Come on, aren’t you guys supposed to attend to our every need?” He asks, and he’s right, we aren’t supposed to say no to the guests, but it’s also not supposed to be knowledgeable to them. He steps closer to me, making it obvious as he looks me up and down, eye-fucking me right in front of my face. “Apologies, sir. I’m neede-”

“Fuck off, ballsack. She’s busy.” Rafes voice cut through the air and I looked over my shoulder to see him approaching us, holding a racket as well. My eyes widened slightly as I took in Rafes frame. He was shirtless, a sheen of sweat coating his body, telling me just finished a match, and a pair of black shorts hanging low on his hips, accentuating the ‘V’ of his torso along with a backwards hat. Jesus, it’s like looking at a fucking marble statue. It didn't help when he stepped close enough for me to feel his body heat emanating onto my back.

“You’re gonna let this douche speak for you?” The man stepped closer as well, still keeping a safe distance from me, but I could feel Rafe tense up. His reaction caused the man to smirk, showing he was getting what he wanted out of Rafe. “Please, forgive us.” I turn and push on Rafes chest, urging him to walk backwards, and he keeps his attention on the older man. He was in clear view still as Rafe lifted his arm, pointing his racket at the man in a threatening manner. “Watch yourself, gramps.” He yelled out, eventually turning around to walk until we were far enough away from the man.

“What the hell, Rafe?” I bit, drawing my eyebrows together in a pissed off manner. Rafe flared his nostrils, throwing his racket on the ground next to the benches on the court. Great, now he’s going to rip me a new one. “He was harassing you, I wasn’t going to sit on my ass and do nothing.” He was in my face now, anger written all over his face, and I closed my mouth, deciding not to talk back due to the fact that another guest might overhear. “He asked me to play a game, and I was telling him no.” I turned, walking off the courts and towards the pool.

Recently, we cut our laundry attendant because she was smoking joints on the job and made all the towels smell like weed. Of course, complaints ensued and now towel duty that was a one-person job was now a six-person job, dividing it between my coworkers and I.

I groaned as I heard footsteps trailing mine on the wet tile of the pool deck. “You would’ve had to tell him no twice. That’s one too many for my liking.” He reasoned, and I ignored him as I walked over to the first cabana on the pool deck, stripping its sheets and towels. It was close to 10 o’clock and the guests were beginning to trickle out of the club, so it was time to start on my closing duties, but Rafe didn’t give a shit. “I could’ve handled him.” My voice was harsher than I intended as I turned to him, dropping the sheets I held onto the cabana.

I look at Rafe, and he doesn’t say anything, just huffing his chest, which doesn’t help when I’m trying to be mad at him. His broad shoulders compliment him well, his eyes narrowing on me as he walks closer to me. I could feel his body heat again, and I looked forward, facing his chest, which was beautifully structured. He hooked a finger under my chin, leading my face up to meet his, his other hand resting on my hip. He doesn’t say anything, just staring into my eyes longer than he’d ever done. In fact, I think this was the first time he actually took the time to look at me and could answer what color my eyes were if he was asked by someone.

His jaw clenched, nostrils flaring, as a gasp left my lips from the feeling of his hand pushing my back to bring my body flush against him. Something flashed in his eyes, igniting something inside me, and it was all centered around him. I couldn’t tell when he placed his lips on mine, but when I realized it, the anger that resented him seemed to fade along with whatever else was around us. The kiss felt like a pull that I refused for so long, and the relief of his lips on mine was something that burned into the memory of my brain. His lips are soft, pink, and so perfectly tender as passion brewed between us from the way he pushed his tongue passed the slit above my bottom lip. The kiss was needy and intimate, exactly the kind of kiss Rafe would give.

I pushed his chest, urging him away from me, and I could swear he didn’t want to until I pushed him further. He sighed, pushing his hips forward and making me gasp. “Are you hard?” I giggled with a small blush, looking down at his prominent bulge, pressing it against me. Rafe looked at me and gave me a small shrug. “I get turned on when you yell at me.” His face was unchanging, as if his statement was matter-of-factly.

My head turned as I searched the pool deck for any signs of life. The golf course was not far and anyone in a cabby driving by would see, as well as tennis players returning from a match. Even worse, a lot of the workers walk through the pool deck as a shortcut to the gym. It was simply too risky and though this wasn’t the best paying job, I didn’t want to lose it over something as trivial as sex. Yet, I’m reminded of our agreement as Rafe presses his body against mine, prompting me to sit on the edge of the cabana.

“Rafe, we can’t. I’ll get fired if we get caught.” I move to sit up, but Rafe pushes me down, making me let out an exasperated yelp. The comfort of the cabana on my back was welcomed as I laid down on it and my head rested on the bundled sheets. Rafe moved to stand between my legs, making me bite my lip at how perfectly aligned we are. I stretch my neck up to look around once again, the fear of someone coming rushing through me. “Rafe, we shouldn’t.” I looked at him with worry, but he’s busy trailing his fingers under my skirt and up my thigh, leaving goose-bumps over my skin due to his delicate touch.

Fuck, he makes this hard.

“What did I say about these?” Rafe hooked his finger on the waistband of my panties before snapping them back against my skin, warranting a small wince from me. I looked up at him and bit my lip nervously. “Not to wear them anymore.” My voice was soft-spoken, his intimidation drawing this out from me. The side of his mouth curled up, his eyes darkening at my response, just like he wanted me to. “Good girl,” He said in a low voice, a tinge of husk aiding it. Rafe pulls on my polo that was tucked into my skirt, pushing it over my breasts, and my eyes widen.

Though, I don't stop him. The worry of being caught by someone has been pushed behind the lust that began to cloud my mind, and Rafe took notice. He pulled the cups of my bra down under my breasts, giving them a small push-up and exposing them perfectly to him. He makes no hesitation to reach and palm at my breasts, biting his lip. “That's what I love about girls like you,” He pinched my nipple. “You have tits and ass for days.”

I look away, attempting to distract myself from his words. I knew what he meant, the compliment not even close to being considered one with how backhanded it was. The worst part? Rafe genuinely meant it, as if bigger girls didn’t have much more to themselves than our sizable assets. It reminded me that to him, I was good enough to fuck but not to date, much less even save my phone number.

Rafe doesn’t take notice of my sudden disinterest, instead removing one hand from my breast, and I hear a rustle of fabric. I crane my neck and look at him standing between my legs, taking his shorts off to circle his knees, fully baring himself. I let out a small gasp as I looked at his cock. It was painfully hard, with a string of pre-cum falling from the tip to drip onto my thigh. “See what you do to me?” He pumps himself a couple of times, letting out small moans as his other hand bunches my skirt up at my waist.

He thumbs my clit, making small circular motions as he narrows his eyes at me, making sure I’m reacting how he wants. I blush as I bite my lip, holding back the moans that threaten to spill from my lips. This just warrants him to press on it, eliciting a moan from me as he intended. “I wish you could see yourself right now.” His eyes are hooded, clouded with lust and desire. I look at him innocently, his comment giving me a small surge of confidence. It was insane how quickly he shifted my mood and I, more than, let him.

I watch as he removes his hand, moving it to grip my hip as he presses his tip on my clit. I make a small noise at the sensation before he starts to drag his tip up and down my folds, gathering my slick with his pre-cum, the act lewd in itself. Finally, after out his tease, he slowly eases in until fully sinking in me, prompting a moan from the both of us. I shut my eyes as I let out a show exhale, delighting in the feeling of him in me time and time again. Rafe pushed my thigh down, as he began his thrusts, his other hand moving to cup my breast.

My head falls back against the bundle of sheets as Rafe thrusts into me, my hand reaching over my head to grip the sheets. “Fuck, Rafe.” I whimper, his cock stretching me out, and I bite the inside of my cheek against the burn, ignoring it due to the pleasure accompanying it. The familiar way his cock curved always lightly grazed over my g-spot, adding to my lust. Sometimes, I swear he knew my body better than I did.

“Rafe,” I whine, “S’too much.” This only drove him to pound into me harder and at a faster pace as well. If he had the chance to ruin me completely, he’d take it without hesitation. “You can take me,” Rafe pants, looking down. “Look.” I follow his eyes, and it takes everything in me not to cum as I watch his cock slide in and out of my abused cunt. The image, so pornographic, I almost subconsciously tell myself to look away, but then I remember I’m a part of that image. The indecent sound of our shared arousal fills our ears with each slap of his skin against mine, along with my strangled moans.

This was wrong. This was so incredibly wrong yet the seemingly never ending list of consequences wouldn’t even be considered when asked if this was worth it. Rafe grasps onto my hips as he pushes me into the cabana, driving into me enough to hit my cervix. He squeezes his eyes shut, a habit he’s formed when he’s trying to hold himself back from finishing quickly.

“Rafe,” He looks at me with lust-driven eyes. “I need you to cum in me.” I whine and something behind his eyes shifts. As if he’s been waiting to hear those words leave my mouth for as long as we’ve had this relationship. Rafe always came inside me, thanks to the IUD I have implanted, but I had never asked him once to do the sinful act myself.

Then, It started at the base of my stomach, the familiar tightness of my walls causing Rafe to hold my hips harder, and I winced at the pleasurable pain it drew out. “I’m close, baby. I’m so close.” He reached his finger to my clit and circled it with his thumb, the stimulation allowing the force of my orgasm to crash into every crevice of my body. My head fell into a daze and my vision blurred slightly as I milked his cock, my walls clenching him oh so nicely.

He thrusts forward, the fill of his cum settled into me with pulses of his cock, and the overflow dripped down between our thighs. The stutter of his hips made a slow stop and his body fell slack over mine, and a silent buzz of content settled over us. Rafe and I panted as we attempted to recover our breathing, the feeling of his chest pressing against mine almost giving me a sense of comfort. A blush pinched my cheeks as I felt Rafe pepper small kisses over my chest and neck, the ticklish feeling making me giggle. Rafe stopped himself at that sound and looked at me and in an instant, he was Rafe Cameron again. The subtle changes in his expression weren't subtle enough, clearly.

Rafe pushes off me and takes himself out with a groan. I cross my ankles as I sit up, pulling down my shirt before reaching behind myself to grab a pillowcase and clean myself off but its taken from my hands before I could do so. I look up at Rafe, and he rudely avoids my gaze, instead wiping his shaft before I get a chance for myself. I sigh and reach behind again for another pillowcase, but Rafe grabs that one and throws it behind me as well.

“Put your panties on.” He says, pulling up his shorts and wiping his hand. I quirk an eyebrow as I look at him, finding some sort of tell that says he’s not serious. He seems to notice and darkens his expression, reaching to pull on my arm and stand me up abruptly, making me stumble into his chest. I stare at him in disbelief at his man-handling, ready to speak on it, but he beats me to it. “If you're going to wear your little panties, you’re going to wear them to keep my cum inside you.” He lightly grasps my chin to look up at him, and I slowly nod in response. Rafe pecks my lips with a small smile before taking the waistband of my panties and pulling them up, giving my ass cheek a slap, and I jumped slightly.

Rafe gives me a small nod as a goodbye before walking out the pool deck, and a strike of fear surges through me as soon as he’s gone. Just above the door he left through, a camera sits idly facing the entirety of the pool and all the blood drains from my face. “Fuck!” I yell to myself, into the sheets I held in my hands out of frustration. Attempting to push the problem from my brain, I continued stripping the rest of the cabanas on the pool deck until a notification made me pause. I take out my phone and read it to myself.

“Rafe Cameron sent you $1,500.”

thank you for reading!!! lmk what you think! love you!!

#Rafe cameron #Rafe Cameron x reader #Rafe cameron smut #outer banks smut #outer banks #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron angst #Rafe Cameron x plus size!reader #obx smut

160 notes · View notes

heartseungs-archive · 2 months

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better than gold | l.hc

genre ➳ historical au (early 19th century), fluff, angst, friends to lovers pairings ➳ nobleman!haechan x fem!reader word count ➳ 16.4k (added more after proofreading...) warnings ➳ mentions of alcohol, violence (threats), classism info ➳ this is the first installment of boats against the current, an 00 line series! click here to read the other works :)

the present: august, 1912

The grandfather clock's heavy toll resonates throughout your house's wooden walls, quickly shocking you awake from where you lie sleepily on your desk. It is not the first time the heavy family heirloom has done so, and despite your protests, your father insists on keeping it.

Outside, the sky is pitch black, only illuminated by the lonely moon. You hear the faint chirping of crickets from far away, and you wonder if he’ll be coming today.

As if spoken into existence, you hear a rustling below you, definitely made by something much larger than a wild rabbit. Leaning your body out of the window, you look down to see a familiar face staring back up at you.

“You’re early today,” you say.

“Will you believe me if I say I missed you too much at the party?” Despite how the darkness prevents you from seeing his expression, you know a mischievous grin decorates his lips.

Even though it definitely isn’t the first time Donghyuck has attempted to scale the walls of your home, it still makes your mouth turn dry. You watch nervously as he deftly moves from the trellis to the carved marble eaves of your window with ease of experience. Donghyuck’s definitely strong enough to hold on even if he loses his footing, and smart enough not to get himself killed. Still, he’s usually slightly tipsy from his parties, and you are not sure if it is the best idea to have him climbing structures unattended in the middle of the night. Though it isn’t the brightest idea, you’re half ready to leap from the window after him if he falls.

Five minutes later, Donghyuck is standing in your bedroom, clothes and hair slightly rumpled, and a triumphant grin on his face.

The first time he had done this, you had almost been out of your mind with fear. Both for Donghyuck, and at the thought that someone could walk in at any time. Had one of the maidservants, or even worse, members of the family, discovered him here, the both of you would have been as good as dead.

No matter that Donghyuck had been your best friend and confidante from before you could even walk. In society’s eyes, you were an unmarried woman, and him a bachelor. And those two did not mix, especially not unchaperoned in a bedroom close to midnight.

“What are you thinking about?” Donghyuck has made himself comfortable by your fireplace, sinking into the armchair which he always complains is much too stiff, while you chide him for his poor posture.

You shake your head. “Nothing much. How was your week?”

“You know me, Y/N. The usual.”

The usual meaning alcohol, women and cards. The reality wasn’t as bad as you presented it to be, of course. Donghyuck wasn’t some sort of degenerate, unlike some of the men you had actually met. He was just a flirty, reckless fool with too much time on his hands, and an avid passion for red wine.

“Did any poor girl come after you this time for breaking her heart?” You inquire, amused.

“Well, I did get champagne poured on my head by a very angry woman. I think her name was Hana?” Donghyuck complains, his lips settling into a pout.

“Honestly, you should figure out by now that you can’t just flirt with women and leave them hanging. It’s not a nice thing to do, you know?” You chide slightly, but you don’t hold it against Donghyuck. He’s never given anyone false promises, making it clear that he was there for a good time. His dalliances have also never gone beyond honeyed words and occasional meals. It’s not his fault that feelings often get entangled, and unreciprocated. Still, his life would be much easier if he didn’t constantly have a string of jilted lovers out for his blood.

“But it’s fun,” Donghyuck replies nonchalantly, and you roll your eyes. “Enough about me. What has my dearest Y/N been up to?” He asks, leaning forward to hear you better.

Your shoulders sink a little, and Donghyuck immediately notices it. However, he remains silent, waiting for you to begin speaking. “I’m not sure what I could tell you, since I’m stuck in the house every day anyways. I hate to say this, but your visits are the most exciting part of my week.”

Even though that should make Donghyuck happy - he enjoys spending time with you, after all, and vice versa - he knows that isolation is taking its toll on you. He feels irrationally angry at your parents, but bites his tongue. He knows you don’t like it when he speaks ill of them, even if he knows this is unfair to you and he’s technically right.

It’s his fault, after all. If the both of you hadn’t been photographed together by that gossip newspaper, your father would likely have never lost his temper. Even if Renjun’s estate was safe, anyone could have come in during a party.

Donghyuck should have known better. Done better.

It’s been a month since you’ve been confined at home, and three weeks since Donghyuck started his weekly wall-climbing escapades. Before this, the both of you would meet almost weekly. Once your virtual house arrest started, Donghyuck found himself missing your presence, as if a hole had opened in his life with nothing to fill it.

For you, the confinement had been more mind-numbing than anything. Besides your daytime lessons, you found yourself dawdling aimlessly around the house, with little to do, and desperately missing the city.

Donghyuck notices your expression gradually get more desolate, and he immediately snaps himself out of his thoughts. He’s here to make you feel better, not act as a walking reminder of your missing freedom.

“Well, I’ll try to stay longer, then. Be grateful. Not everyone can have the honour of being in my presence for such an extended period of time,” Donghyuck states cockily, and you laugh at him.

Just like that, he’s lightened your mood, despite the sombre nature of the conversation. It’s something he does easily, coming up with a witty jab to amuse you.

You’re sorry to see Donghyuck go when he finally leaves two hours later, his face considerably less flushed after he had sobered from the alcohol. You had also forced him to down two glasses of water and some biscuits, so he wouldn’t wake up tomorrow with a splitting headache. Even stuck at home, you want to do what you can to care for Donghyuck’s well-being. At least his house isn’t that large of a distance away from yours.

Had this been three years ago, your parents would have allowed him to stay over in a heartbeat. Now, he’s more like some sort of fugitive, every interaction with Donghyuck reduced to clandestine meetings.

Still, times change so very quickly, shifting like quicksand. You just pray Donghyuck and yourself won’t get swallowed in and lose each other along the way.

the past: september, 1897

Donghyuck doesn’t like crying people.

He would rather his classmate throw a tantrum and kick him, than cry in his face. He decides that he especially doesn’t like girls who sob quietly and sniffle afterwards, refusing to speak to him for the rest of the day. It makes Donghyuck feel bad, and that’s his least favourite feeling.

He wants to say that he didn’t mean to spill milk all over your new satin dress, but he supposes he did mean it if he was the one who decided to start running around the playroom. Donghyuck thinks you might be even more upset if you found out he told a lie to you. The teacher looks like she’s at a loss, and Donghyuck feels as if he needs to take matters into his own hands, and make amends.

Just so you don’t cry again and make Donghyuck feel guilty, or at least that’s what he tells himself.

The drawing that Donghyuck hands to you twenty minutes later is colourful and messy, almost symbolic of the boy sitting across of you.

“I did this for you. I’m sorry for ruining your dress,” he mumbles, looking down nervously at his sock-clad feet. Pretty Y/N, it says, underneath a clumsily-drawn stick figure of you. And in the far corner of the paper lies another figure, almost as if exiled. Stupid Donghyuck is scribbled next to a drawing of himself, deliberately made much uglier with downturned eyebrows and a jagged mouth. Your eyes widen at his description of himself. The teacher said that was a bad word, you can’t help but think.

Despite your tear-stained cheeks, a little smile pokes out from the corner of your lips. Still, you don’t say anything, causing Donghyuck’s heart to begin speeding up in nervousness. Unbeknownst to himself, he is anxiously tapping his feet on the ground, waiting for you to respond.

“I…like the drawing. And I’m sorry your milk was spilt,” you mutter to yourself, but Donghyuck’s keen earns pick it up. He smiles a toothy grin at you, happy to be forgiven. Across the classroom, your teacher watches fondly, smiling to herself. The both of you spend the rest of the afternoon together, after you ask Donghyuck if you can borrow his pencils to add to the drawing.

From that day on, you and Donghyuck are inseparable. Donghyuck is almost like a magnet glued to you, following you around wherever you go. He’s the one to both steal your snacks and share them with you, the one who teases you but also hits another boy for making you cry.

Your parents eventually recognise the little boy who walks out of class with you every day, hand in hand.

“Who is this, Y/N?” Your mother asks sweetly, leaning down to match your heights.

“He’s my friend. Donghyuck.” Donghyuck knows to bow politely despite his young age, and you can tell from the slight smile on your mother’s face that she’s already pleased with him.

‘Would Donghyuck like to come over for lunch today?” Your father asks.

“We have ice cream. Our cook used to work at an ice cream parlor,” you whisper conspiratorially in Donghyuck’s ear. His eyes widen immediately, and he looks at you eagerly. Ice cream is one of Donghyuck’s favourite foods, but he’s rarely allowed to have it.

“Well, then I guess it’s settled. The both of you can sit in the back with the nanny.”

The kindly-looking woman who is Donghyuck’s nanny helps the both of you into the car. You still remember the first day you had met her, where you laughed at Donghyuck for needing a nanny to follow him around.

“Don’t your parents pick you up from school, Donghyuck?”

“They’re very busy with their business. My nanny is the one who spends time with me at home,” Donghyuck had mumbled, looking down at his hands. His expression was strangely sorrowful for that of a seven-year-old boy.

“Well, you can come over after school, if you want. I’m sure your nanny will agree.”

And that marked the start of countless sun-lit afternoons spent at your family home, until Donghyuck became a regular, fixed presence in your life even as the both of you grew up.

february, 1908

You could not wait for this night to end.

The idea of a debutante ball was glamorous and had drawn you in at first. After all, it sounded like a dream. A ball celebrating your transition to eighteen years of age, from child to adult. You had spent the months before devoting time to lessons to prepare, endless hours given to ballroom dancing and etiquette.

However, the long-awaited night itself had passed by in a rapid blur of conversations with strangers whose names you did not remember, and dances that left you dizzy and slightly breathless. You had missed out on dinner because of the constriction of your dress, and it left you starving two hours later.

You muttered a polite excuse to the group that you were standing with, making a beeline for the gilded doors leading towards the balcony. You had expected more from alcohol when trying it for the first time, but the champagne had only left an uncomfortable flush in your cheeks that was quickly cooled by the night air. Growing up had been a little disappointing, if you could say so yourself.

“There you are.” The intrusion of someone else’s voice causes you to jump in shock before you quickly relax once you realise who it is.

Donghyuck was dressed in a fine suit, tailored neatly to his lean figure. Still, he would probably outgrow it before the year ended. Within the past two years, Donghyuck had grown rapidly, now over half a head taller than you, his shoulders widening much too quickly. His speaking voice had faded into a low honey timbre but retained some of its childish cadences, especially when he got excited. You almost didn’t recognise his voice at first, considering the last time you heard it was much too long ago.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” Donghyuck’s arrival at your debutante ball is a pleasant surprise, considering his family had embarked on a grand tour of Europe just a few months ago.

By right, he should have been in Florence at this very moment. You hadn’t expected him to return until next summer, instead having to fill the Donghyuck-sized gap in your life with his postcards and your carefully written letters. Telephoning was difficult, especially when Donghyuck was constantly travelling from province to town to city.

Looking at your best friend properly now, Donghyuck seems slightly different, older. The way he carries himself is more confident, as if he’s at ease with himself. He’s grown up, you realise, and self-consciousness overtakes you. Maybe you still look like a child next to him, unsurely dangling on the precipice between maturity and childishness.

“Do you really think I would miss your debutante for anything? I just need to join them back in Vienna next month.” His voice is painfully familiar, but hearing it in person is so much better than over the phone.

You felt Donghyuck’s absence more than you allowed yourself to acknowledge, you realise. Having him next to you makes it easier to breathe, even if your corset is much too tight.

“I missed seeing you, you know,” Donghyuck says, and you turn to him, breath hitching slightly. The both of you rarely exchange any terms of affection, if any at all. The last time you told Donghyuck you missed him was perhaps over a decade ago, when he had been sick and missed coming to preparatory school for a few days.

You hope there aren’t any eavesdroppers in the vicinity who might misunderstand. Within your own private circles, you and Donghyuck are safe. Almost everyone knows the both of you have been attached at the hip since young, and no one jumps to conclusions. But here, with the curious, judging eyes of strangers? You cannot help but be scared, for both yourself and Donghyuck. Still, you nod, a silent acknowledgement of Donghyuck’s statement.

Just then, you hear the faint sounds of applause and cheering coming from the ballroom, and you realise the clock has just struck midnight.

“Happy birthday, Y/N.” Donghyuck is the first to wish you, ahead of your family. He looks slightly nervous as he pulls something out from his jacket pocket, and you look over at him curiously.

“I got you a present while I was in France. It reminded me of you,” he murmurs, and the sight suddenly reminds you of that exact moment in kindergarten when he first handed you that drawing.

The blue velvet box is sleek and elegant, inlaid with mother-of-pearl. It opens neatly to reveal a matching bracelet and necklace, a little sun charm fashioned in gold and diamond dangling from the end of both. You don’t miss the symbolism of it, and look up at Donghyuck.

“It’s lovely. Can you put it on for me?” Donghyuck nods, and the air feels strangely tense, charged with an unfamiliar energy. His hands are gentle as he places the necklace gently around your neck, only fumbling slightly before it's set in place. The cool metal is jarring against the warmth of your skin, and you shiver slightly, though you’re not sure if it's from the metal or from Donghyuck’s fingers accidentally brushing against the nape of your neck. He moves to your wrist then, and your eyes are drawn to his cuff links.

They are in the exact same design as the jewellery he gifted you, just slightly smaller. He did that on purpose, you realise, and notice the mirth in his eyes. No one will notice, unless they look closely at both you and Donghyuck.

It feels intimate, like a shared secret between the both of you.

A small proof of your friendship with him, for you to know, even if no one else does.

He finally steps away from you once the bracelet is secured, and you lift it up to observe it carefully. Despite the lack of light, the pendant gleams brightly, almost as if imbued with its own glow, a sun in itself. A little piece, a reminder of Donghyuck, to carry around wherever you go.

It had simply been a lucky coincidence that the debutante ball fell on the exact day of your birthday. However, looking at Donghyuck now, standing next to you on the balcony, you’re suddenly infinitely grateful for the stroke of luck that allowed it to happen.

march, 1908

Donghyuck absolutely detested carriage rides, especially when they were with someone whose presence he did not enjoy.

There were still five more hours to Vienna, but Donghyuck already felt exhausted at the idea of what he would have to endure once he reached. The excitement of the grand tour had been diminished by the ever-looming presence of his parents, and he knew that their demands would only increase once he returned home. After all, he would be formally considered an adult.

He decides to stare absentmindedly out the window, at a dazzling landscape of white and green. Donghyuck’s attention inadvertently drifts to the entire reason he had even left in the first place.

It had not been easy to convince his parents to allow him to leave halfway through their tour of Florence, especially when the city had been the location for many of his father’s meetings. Meetings where Donghyuck’s presence had been required. However, once introductions had passed, Donghyuck found himself no different from a piece of furniture, more ornamental than functional in nature.

Of course, his parents were unaware of the true reason Donghyuck so desperately wished to return home.

He had found the opportunity when his father needed documents delivered to their home address, and someone to approve said documents. Donghyuck had volunteered with little hesitation, even if it meant rushing a ten-day journey within four. He had little sleep, both from moving from train to train and forcing himself to keep awake to finish the work he had promised his father.

His fatigue seemed to melt away, however, when he saw you in that pearl-white ballgown and matching gloves, hair pinned in a chignon with feathers interspersed in between.

The delight in your eyes when you saw Donghyuck made him feel as if every single snide comment made by his father meant nothing, minuscule compared to the faint smile on your face as he placed the necklace around your neck.

Donghyuck had been hesitant at the atelier, unsure if it was too much. Perhaps you didn’t want a gift so clearly associated with him, even if the both of you were close. He was grateful now, however, and thought that the sun pendant looked so much more beautiful on you than it ever did on him.

He found it strange that before your debutante, he had been fine with just exchanging postcards and letters detailing your days. Months had been spent like this from city to city, as he took in the sights and sounds of a place so very different from home.

However, the memory of your presence now remained fresh in his mind, and Donghyuck found your absence even more noticeable. As far as Donghyuck knew, you had never been to another country, much less a separate continent. You would have taken in the architecture with starry eyes, and dragged Donghyuck around with you to savour as many cuisines as possible.

He decides to close his eyes, and pretend that you are sitting in the same cabin across from him, travelling together.

may, 1909

You are nineteen when everything comes crashing down.

“You should thank me, Lee Donghyuck. I just saved your life.”

‘I could have handled that on my own,” Donghyuck mutters petulantly, and you throw a questioning glance at him. The moment he had become an eligible bachelor, Donghyuck was quick to gain the attention of many women, owing to his natural charm. Of course, he easily soaked up the attention and relished in it, quickly becoming the centre of parties.

One lady, in particular, had been notably persistent, and you almost admired her for her efforts. She had shown up consistently at every party Donghyuck had thrown or attended, staying for hours and attempting to strike up a conversation. When that was unsuccessful, she extended her reach to Renjun and Jeno. It definitely didn’t help that she seemed to appear everywhere they went.

“She would have still been tailing you if I hadn’t come,” you huff, striding into the main hall of your family estate. Donghyuck follows in after you, an amused smile on his face.

“Oh, what would I do without you, Y/N? You’re my saviour from the immense threat of overly eager noblewomen. How should I repay you?” He has a hand over his heart, sighing dramatically, and you roll your eyes at Donghyuck’s theatrics.

“One day, you’re going to regret it. If I find your cold, dead body in an alleyway because you angered the wrong person, I won’t be the one to avenge you.” The both of you walk into the familiar archway of your house, Donghyuck smiling at the familiar housemaids that make up your staff. He has already been a consistent presence since young, and most of them have seen both of you grow up together.

“Well, I think it would be more likely that you’re the murderess out for my blood-”

“Y/N. You’re home. Your parents would like to see you immediately. Apologies, Mr Lee. I’m afraid you’ll be unable to stay for lunch today.” Your senior housekeeper, Ms Kim, has a stormy expression on her face, and your eyebrows furrow in concern. Furthermore, her switch from calling Donghyuck by his formal name fills you with a sense of unease. Why doesn’t she meet his eyes?

Donghyuck looks at you, eyes questioning, but you are just as clueless as he is. Evidently, your parents must want to speak to you about something important.

“Alright. I’ll see you another day, Y/N. Also, Ms Kim, just call me Donghyuck, please. As you always do.”

His tone is casual and light, but there’s an undertone of worry.

Even though Donghyuck knows there’s no reason you would be unsafe in your own home, the atmosphere feels strangely heavy suddenly, foreboding. Ms Kim remains silent as Donghyuck strolls back the way he just came in, and that only causes your panic to rise further.

“Your parents are waiting in the sitting room, Miss,” she states lowly, before quickly rushing off.

You’re equal parts curious and scared as you make your way up the marble stairs.

“Y/N, darling, you’re here. Take a seat.” Your mother’s term of endearment when she sees you come in allows your heart to lighten up a little. But even then, worry is evident in the set of her eyebrows. Your father, however, is an entirely different story. His expression is stormy and unfamiliar to you, and reminds you of the scolding you received as a child when you had crossed too many lines.

“Is there…something wrong? I was out with Donghyuck and we had a slight mishap. i didn’t mean to be late.” Your unease causes you to shift nervously, posture remaining stiff, despite how the plush couch invites you to sink into it. There’s a pause, and you look at your father. It’s evident he wants to say something.

“You shouldn’t meet the Lee boy from now on. He isn’t allowed to visit, either.” You know your father is referring to Donghyuck, and you look at him, visibly alarmed. Your parents have always welcomed Donghyuck to your house, and they are aware of the friendship between the both of you.

Your mother senses the shift in the atmosphere of the room, and quickly attempts to mediate.

“What your father is saying, Y/N, is that you should try to interact less with Donghyuck-I mean, Mr Lee, from now on. It would be easier for both families if the two of you maintained a distance.” Her words are stilted as she looks at you, gauging your expression as it shifts from confusion to disbelief.

The laugh that escapes you comes out nervous and forced, your eyes darting rapidly from your father, to your mother, and then back.

You force yourself breathe, to remain calm, even as you fiddle with your fingers in your lap. However, your voice comes out slightly strained.

“Donghyuck’s my childhood friend. He comes over every week. I thought the both of you were alright with his presence. Why so suddenly-”

“Because we did not know that goddamned boy was Lee Haechan!” Your father’s voice is booming, the sudden increase in volume causing both you and your mother to flinch. It takes you a while to process Donghyuck’s formal name, the one he uses with strangers. Evidently, there is a lapse in communication, and your father’s outburst puzzling you further. Just then, the butler comes to the door. “There is a call for you, sir.” Your father leaves enraged, and the silence that falls over the room is heavy.

You look to your mother desperately for some sort of clarification, and she sighs wearily. Tears are budding at the corner of your eyes, and you hastily blink them away.

“Your father found out about Donghyuck’s identity at a business function a week ago. We were unaware that Donghyuck was the only son of the Lee family.”

“Does that mean something?” You had always been aware of Donghyuck’s family history, where his ancestors had ties to this place from over a century ago. He didn’t speak much of it, only telling you bits and pieces.

“As you know, Y/N, our family is relatively new. After all, it was your grandfather who earned his fortune here. Your father and the Lees have a relatively tumultuous relationship, to say the least.”

Your confusion begins to clear up barely, but you’re not sure if for the better or worse. Since you were young, you’ve heard the whispers follow your parents, and subsequently you, round. That families like yours, the nouveau-riche who earned their wealth barely half a century ago, are nothing compared to the aristocracy. That your presence and others diluted the nature of high society itself, instead bringing disgrace with their lack of pedigree.

You’ve always paid little mind to it, however. After all, there are plenty of families that would be considered nouveau-riche, most of them equally as wealthy and powerful as the ones that hail from the aristocracy. The whispers have gradually dwindled over the years, and you believed it to be a poorly-conceived notion by certain adults reluctant to let their social status be infringed by those considered beneath them.

And you know that Donghyuck pays little mind to it, if any. In fact, you’re not sure if he’s even aware of the distinction, considering the nature of your friendship.

“I know you and Donghyuck have known each other for a long time. However, we do not think Donghyuck’s parents would be happy about this if they found out. It would be easier for both of you if you maintained a distance. Both for you and Donghyuck, and for your families as well.”

Your mother’s words cause you to realise that you’ve never been formally introduced to Donghyuck’s parents, or even met them. While you have been over to his house, it was only when his parents were absent on their business trips, or when he threw parties with hundreds in attendance.

Donghyuck has barely mentioned them, and you fail to recall any piece of knowledge about his parents. You wonder if they are aware of you, Donghyuck’s best friend since childhood. The sudden imbalance has been made glaringly obvious by your father’s words, and you’re not entirely sure what to do with the new realization.

The thought that you might be non-existent to Donghyuck’s family, the people he’s closest to in the world, leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

Your mother seems to sense the turmoil unfolding in your mind, and looks at you gently. “Take some time to think about it, Y/N. Your father and I will be out for dinner tonight. The telephone will be free to use if you wish to make a call.”

You can tell she is apologetic about her words and that of your father’s, but you can’t bring yourself to reply just yet.

Later that evening, you’re nestled in the armchair of your father’s office, telephone across you. Donghyuck is likely done with dinner at this very moment, and perhaps resting in his room.

You must look rather ridiculous to the staff, having sat in here for an hour and yet nowhere near making a call. Still, hesitation tugs at your movements. What will you even ask Donghyuck?

As if to end your dilemma, the telephone rings loudly.

You hastily pick it up, and hear a faint static buzzing before a honeyed voice comes through.

“Hello. This is Lee Donghyuck. May I speak to Y/N for a brief moment, please?” His voice sounds excessively formal and stilted, so different from the tone you’re used to. It causes a smile to make its way onto your face, despite the situation.

“You’re speaking to her right now, Mr Lee,” you reply, and hear Donghyuck huff a laugh from across the receiver.

“Very funny, Y/N. I was half-terrified that your father would be the one to pick up. Care to tell me what happened today after I left?” Donghyuck is simply curious, but you are unsure how to broach the topic.

“Donghyuck?” He hums in acknowledgement.

“My father talked to me today. About the situation between both of our…families. Did you know about it?” Dead silence fills the room, and you can even hear Donghyuck’s breathing still.

“If you are asking whether I was aware that our families are bitter competitors and refuse to interact with each other, then…” Donghyuck’s voice trails off, and you bite your lip out of worry.

“Then?”

“Then yes.” Donghyuck’s voice comes off almost sheepish, and you feel pressure building up at the front of your head.

“Do your parents know who I am?” You finally ask the question that’s waiting on the tip of your tongue. After all, your parents have known Donghyuck since he was a child. Surely his mother and father are aware of you, his best friend of over a decade. Even if friendships between the opposite sex aren’t exactly considered orthodox in proper society.

“They know…I have a close female friend,” he mutters, and it comes out in bits and pieces, that you almost strain to catch it.

“A close female friend.” The four words leave an unpleasant taste in your mouth as you sound them out, even though you know Donghyuck doesn’t mean them to be demeaning. However, it feels humiliating in a way, especially since you’re aware of how the exact same term is used to describe Donghyuck’s fleeting, romantic entanglements.

There’s a beat of silence over the phone, until Donghyuck exhales sharply. You’re gripped by a flash of anger, and then it disappears, leaving doubt and a grim look on your face. Your other hand lies in your lap, and you don’t even realise you’re wrenching your skirt so hard that it crumples.

“Y/N, listen to me, you know how my parents are-”

“No, Donghyuck, I do not know how your parents are. If you may recall, you’ve barely told me anything about them. Or about your family at all, really.”

Your words come out clipped, and you quickly slam down the receiver, ending the telephone call. It’s not even out of anger, really- you think you might just be more fearful of Donghyuck’s reply.

All these years, you rarely prodded Donghyuck to share about his family, unless he offered the information up himself. You knew he had a younger sister and several cousins. After all, it was obvious that the boy did not enjoy sharing much about them, and you guessed that he likely had an estranged relationship with them. For you, it was enough to know that he was from a family similar to yours, inhabiting the upper echelons of society.

Donghyuck was your best friend who grew up with you, spent summers at your house, and the person who your parents treated like a son. That was the only person he needed to be. Even when your father lost his temper, the rage was not directed at Donghyuck, but rather how he was convinced that Donghyuck’s parents would never have allowed such a friendship to blossom.

You wonder what lies Donghyuck must have told them, then, to be able to spend so much time with you unhindered. Unease plagued you at the idea that Donghyuck intentionally omitted his identity from your parents as well, even if it was not malicious in nature.

It made you feel as if your friendship with Donghyuck was something to be embarrassed by, an illicit secret that brought shame onto both of your families.

Maybe he perceived it that way too.

july, 1909

“I’m busy today, Renjun.”

“With checking another one of your father’s ledgers? We both know you don’t enjoy it anyways,” Renjun mutters under his breath, and you glare at him. To give the boy credit, you were eager enough for an excuse to escape the workload that came with being the oldest child and heir.

“Fine. Dinner at the Waldorf Astoria, is it?”

“Yes. At seven. Don’t be late.” He hangs up before you can even reply, and you stare at the now silent receiver. The way that Renjun speaks is the same way he conducts his relationships and friendships: the barest of what is necessary. Still, his curtness is refreshing compared to so many of the people you’ve met, who seem to have no end to their honeyed words.

You think of a boy with never-ending flowery words and witticisms, and determinedly push that thought away immediately.

Three hours later, you stride into the grand lobby of the Waldorf Astoria, heels clacking softly against the marble flooring. The restaurant is one of your favourites, and a smile of recognition appears on the hostess’s face as soon as she sees you.

“Miss Y/N. Good evening. This way, please.” You follow her into one of the private rooms, wondering why Renjun didn’t come out to get you himself. Despite his cold exterior, Renjun prefers to save the waitstaff their trouble, even if it is part of their job.

A sense of foreboding enters you when you push open the door, and you understand why the moment you see who’s sitting at the table.

Lee Donghyuck, hair combed back immaculately and suit clinging to frame, stands up and rushes to block you from leaving when you turn towards the exit.

“Let me through, Haechan,” you say through gritted teeth, looking at the wall past his head. The use of his formal name causes Donghyuck to flinch as if struck, and an apology almost escapes you.

“I haven’t seen you in two months, Y/N. Sit down and we can talk about this. Please,” Donghyuck’s voice is pleading, insistent, and it causes you to pause. Almost. You levelled your gaze at him calmly.

“And what did you tell your parents to meet me today? Did you say that you were meeting Renjun? I’m not sure what they would think if they knew you were meeting a close female friend in a private room at such an expensive restaurant.”

As much as you do not want to use Donghyuck’s parents against him, you’re not quite sure how to deal with him. Lee Haechan, Lee Donghyuck, your best friend. It keeps blending together, leaving you confused.

Donghyuck swallows and steps away, and you think that this is it. He’ll let you go, and the both of you will never return to whatever friendship you had before this. He’ll become a friendly acquaintance at most, considering the both of you will see each other much too often. Especially once he takes over his father’s estate and so do you.

“I told them I was meeting [L/N] [Y/N]. My best friend.”

Donghyuck’s words hang in the air, an invisible hand that stops you from pushing open the door.

“I told them we met in kindergarten and that I visited your estate every day. I told them I’ve known you for twelve years, and that we met every week. And that your parents know me. I told them everything.”

You look at Donghyuck, not daring to breathe.

“Wouldn’t they be angry?” You ask, eyes searching his. Donghyuck allows a small smile to appear on his face, before his eyes turn serious with sincerity once again.

‘Not any less angry than they would have been if I told them earlier. I’m sorry, Y/N. For not being honest from the beginning. I was scared.”

Donghyuck looks so young suddenly, eyes wide and anxious as he looks at you. Every bit a grown-up in the eyes of society, and yet so very young to you. He’s the boy you’ve always known, the seven-year-old who made a painting to apologise to you for ruining your dress. Your heart softens just a little looking at him, guilt creeping in. You’re unfamiliar with his parents, but anyone who can put a damper on the sun himself must be a force to be reckoned with.

The reason Donghyuck loved coming over so much must have been because of them, then. Because his home was hostile and unwelcoming, and he found solace in yours.

Your shoulders relax from their tense posture, and Donghyuck immediately notices it. His expression lightens a little as well, as he senses your rapidly-changing emotions. He steps closer to you, until the both of you are less than a hand’s breadth away from each other.

Up close, you can see the mix of doe-brown and raven-black in Donghyuck’s eyes, and the freckles that scatter haphazardly across his skin. His face is so very familiar to you, and seeing him again after two months of absolute silence hits you like a punch to the gut.

“Donghyuck, I didn’t-”

He grabs your hand, quickly cutting you off. Unease and guilt floods you, but you’ve never been as good at stringing words together as Donghyuck.

“It’s alright, Y/N. You don’t have to apologise for anything.” His voice is comforting, a soothing balm to the emotional turmoil in your heart. You nod quietly, not sure how to continue.

“Now, sit down, will you? I ordered all your favourites and I can’t possibly finish them by myself,” he jokes, and you follow Donghyuck as he pulls out the chair for you, hands exerting gentle pressure on your shoulders.

Later, you watch as Donghyuck eagerly digs into the red velvet cake, even before you get to do so. You had introduced it to him a few years ago, despite his insistence on ordering ice cream instead. Needless to say, you were quite sure you had convinced him to enjoy it, or perhaps he just gave in after your repeated pleading.

He hums contentedly, and your heart surges with fondness. You’re not sure how you had actually thought that Donghyuck could be reduced to a mere acquaintance, the years of friendship diminished. However, you couldn’t be more glad that he was now here, opposite you.

The city is still buzzing when you and Donghyuck leave the chandelier-lit hallways of the Waldorf Astoria, and Donghyuck tugs insistently on your arm.

“Come on. Let’s get you home.” He cranes his neck out towards the road to look for a taxi, but you extend a hand to halt his movements. Donghyuck flashes a questioning glance, and you smile reassuringly.

“It’s still early. We can stay out a little longer.” Donghyuck nods, acquiescing to your request. After all, the one most likely to have a curfew is you, rather than him. Although your parents think you’re out with Renjun and trust him to an extent, they’d rather not have your whereabouts unknown until late.

“Jaemin told me about a place near here the other day. Let’s try to find it.”

You follow Donghyuck down numerous winding alleys until you think the both of you might be in an entirely different district. By the time he pauses, the both of you are slightly out of breath and standing in front of an elevator with faded wooden doors. The lift is likely older than the both of you, judging from the way its doors open jerkily.

You raise an eyebrow. “Are you sure this is safe?” Regardless, you follow Donghyuck into the lift.

“You should trust me more. Do you think I would want your parents to dislike me even more by making them think I was responsible for your untimely death?” He says it casually, but you know your parents’ rejection must have hurt more than Donghyuck is willing to let on.

“I’m sure that if they found you and my dead body, they would rather believe I caused my own death than pin you as guilty.” It’s a weak attempt and not one you entirely believe, but you hope it comforts him nonetheless.

Donghyuck doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to squeeze your hand gently. At some point along the way, he had gotten tired of having to look back to check if you were keeping up, and had instead chosen to grab your hand and drag you with him.

“I wonder how Jaemin found this godforsaken place,” Donghyuck muses.

“It’s probably for his photography. You know how he’s always running around the city looking for new places.”

Just then, the elevator lurches slightly before halting, and you stumble in a moment of shock.

Your impending fall is halted by a pair of arms that are most definitely not yours, and you turn to find yourself less than a hair’s breadth away from Donghyuck, whose eyebrows are furrowed in concern.

“Are you alright? You should be careful with those shoes.” Donghyuck’s referring to your heels, the ones that you wear for sit-down dinners and definitely do not use for exploring abandoned buildings with your best friend.

However, you find yourself unable to focus on Donghyuck’s words, and instead, the warmth that emanates from the hand he’s placed on your waist. He’s much too close to you for comfort, and your mind is beginning to blank.

“Y/N?” His words snap you out of your brief daydream, and you quickly step away from him, blood rushing to your cheeks. Warmth floods you, your heart beating unstably, and you’re quite sure it’s not just from all the walking.

You welcome the chance to leave the tiny, cramped lift and put some space between you and Donghyuck, despite having absolutely no idea where the both of you are. A slight breeze provides respite to your flushed cheeks, and Donghyuck follows after you. The both of you are on a completely empty rooftop, and you immediately head towards the edge.

“You can see the entire city from here,” you say as you lean over the parapet. The lift brought you much higher than expected, allowing you to be flooded with the sight of New York’s stunning skyline. It’s a pretty view, and you’re filled with a sense of quiet peace as Donghyuck stands by your side.

It’s beautiful,” you exhale, and at Donghyuck’s lack of response, turn over to him. Your eyes immediately meet, and there is an unfamiliar fondness in Donghyuck’s starry-eyed gaze.

“Yeah, it is.” Donghyuck says lowly, eyes never leaving yours. The air feels charged with a strange energy, crackling with tension. If you utter a word, it might just be broken. First the lift, and now this. Your heart has been hammering against your ribcage endlessly, and it seems absurd that it might be because of Donghyuck. He’s the person you trust with anything, the one who you’d willingly get lost with. Yet, his gaze now makes you feel like a cornered animal, and you find yourself unable to formulate a coherent response.

“Donghyuck, I…” Your voice trails off and he smiles slightly, instead moving closer until your shoulders touch. The both of you stand side by side, eyes fixed on the radiant lights that make up the city.

However, your wristwatch quickly serves to dispel the peace of the moment, as you quickly dart a glance at the time.

“Donghyuck, we’ve got to leave. I told them I’d be out with Renjun until a quarter past ten.” You hook your arm around his and quickly pull him back in the direction of the lift.

Once the both of you are back below, however, Donghyuck’s quick to hail you a cab.

“Aren’t you getting in?” You ask, confused, staring at Donghyuck who remains standing outside. He smiles down at you gently, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before you can even register that it has slipped out of your bun.

“I don’t want your staff to see us and get into trouble. I’ll make my own way back.” There’s a slight disappointment in Donghyuck’s voice, and you’re not sure if you should tell him that you simply do not care if Ms Kim sees Donghyuck sending you back and reports it to your parents.

“Drive safely, please,” Donghyuck directs to the driver, handing him the fare with a look that tells you not to protest. The driver nods, and you turn back to look at Donghyuck, still standing on the pavement. His familiar figure brings a smile to your face despite your tiredness as he lifts up a hand to wave.

The ride back is spent in solitary quiet, for Donghyuck is not here to fill up the chatter in the space.

That night, you sleep more soundly than you have in weeks.

the present: september, 1912

“We’re done for the morning.” Your tutor, Mr Park, is a kindly, middle-aged man, and you've grown especially thankful for his presence since you’ve been confined at home.

You gather up your things, bowing to him as you get up from one of the many plush armchairs in your father’s library. You’ve decided to make it your mission to finish all the books that fill these shelves, and so far your progress is halfway there. No matter that you spend hours reading every day.

“Y/N. Take the afternoon off.” Mr Park’s voice cuts through the stillness of the library, and you turn to look at him questioningly.

“Even my best students preparing for Harvard don’t study as much as you do. Take a break and spend the afternoon in the city. No young lady should languish at home.”

The twinkle in his eye tells you that Mr Park will hide you sneaking out from your parents, and you immediately get up.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t consider your students languishing at home if they were male,” you retort, a bemused smile on your face.

“That’s because they are much less sensible than you are. Home confinement would do most men a world of good.” His remark causes a grin to appear on your face, and he waves you off. You do not argue further. After all, there are only five or so hours before your parents return, and you plan to make the most of it.

The entryway is noticeably quiet as you make your way down the marble stairs, purse in hand and shoes changed to favour a pair more comfortable for walking.

Besides the close housekeeping staff, no one else knows of your father’s anger at you. Well, besides one other person, of course.

“Y/N!” Your younger sister, Miyeon, appears in the hallway right as you are about to leave. Her eyes are alight with curiosity, storybook in hand. Panicked, you run over to hush her.

“Lower your voice, Miyeon-ah. I need you to help me keep a secret. Can you tell Ms Kim I’m very sick and would like no one to disturb me in my room?”

“Unnie, are you sneaking out?” She whispers conspiratorially, and you flash a grin at her.

“Yes. To see Donghyuck. But you can’t tell anyone, because Donghyuck and I are…planning a surprise for everyone. Okay?”

She nods eagerly, but her lips quickly soften into a pout. “I miss Donghyuck. Will he come to visit soon?”

A sharp pang of guilt enters your heart as you peer down at her forlorn expression. Donghyuck’s always treated your eight-year-old sister especially well, keeping her entertained when you’re too overwhelmed by her hyperactivity. He’s as much an older brother to her as you are her sister.

“He’s been very…busy. I’ll ask him to visit as soon as possible, okay?” She hums in agreement at that, and you smooth your hand over her hair gently. Miyeon does not need to know of the enmity between both of your families, and your now-fraught relationship with your father. You want her to have as good a childhood as possible, and there’s no reason she should be involved in it.

It is only when you are standing at the driveway that you realise you’ve made an oversight. Although your father didn’t explicitly restrict you from leaving, he told the driver that you were not to be driven anywhere at any cost, effectively preventing you from making the thirty-minute trip down to the city centre.

Walking will cost you at least two hours of your precious time, but you suppose you have no choice. The weather is welcoming, at least, and you decide that you’ll try to make the most of it and enjoy the scenery. After all, the fresh air feels much better than the stifling air of your room.

Twenty minutes in, you’ve finally made it out of the gated community where your family’s estate is located in. The road here is gravelly, and you stop yourself from tripping a few times.

A car comes up behind you, and you pause as it comes to a stop right in front of you. Your heart fills with apprehension. You’ve heard about people getting robbed or kidnapped on the roads, but it’s bright daylight and this path is relatively safe. In fact, you’ve walked it hundreds of times.

When a man steps out, you’re entirely prepared to run, until you recognize the familiar silhouette.

“Renjun?” You immediately walk over, and he waves in greeting. Renjun rarely leaves his estate, especially in the middle of the day.

“I needed to head into the city to collect some art supplies. Saw you and figured you needed a ride.” You smile gratefully at him and immediately get in. Renjun’s car is pristine, and the leather seats are plush against your back.

“I haven’t seen you in weeks. Haechan told me you were stuck at home.” You nod, allowing a sigh to escape.

“My father got angry. You know how he is. I decided to sneak out today.”

“Which is why you’re walking three miles?” You roll your eyes at the sarcasm in Renjun’s tone.

“Yes, but now that I have you, our dear Renjun, to send me, my journey will be cut short,” you simper sweetly.

“Did I forget to tell you that I charge a fee? I’ve found a new calling as a taxi driver.”

“We both know you’d rather die than allow strangers to get into your precious car.”

Despite your constant bickering, you missed Renjun more than you’d care to admit. Especially since he would tease you about it to no end.

“Well then, where to?”

“Anywhere. I’m just glad to be out. I can go with you to get your art supplies,” you reply, and Renjun arches an eyebrow.

“You don’t want to see Haechan?”

You shrug. “He doesn’t know I’m out today and I have no way to find him. Besides, I just saw him last week.”

“Last week?” Renjun asks, confused, and your breath hitches. You didn’t mean for it to slip out.

“Well…Donghyuck may have….done some wall-climbing.” Renjun lets out an incredulous laugh, shaking his head. He drums his fingers on the wheel, humming silently.

“The both of you are ridiculous. Haechan mainly, but you too.”

Your eyebrows furrow slightly, and you turn to Renjun. “What?”

He doesn't reply, instead smiling one of his stupid smiles that say I know better than you do. There’s no way to get Renjun to divulge his thoughts unless he wishes, and so you leave him to it. You don’t think it’s that ridiculous. If Donghyuck was the one stuck at home, you would probably risk breaking your neck for him too. And it was likely the bigger sacrifice, considering how his room was a floor higher than yours.

The rest of the drive is passed in comfortable silence, Renjun quietly humming to a jazz song you don’t know the title of. The familiar brick-and-mortar buildings enter your vision, and the car drives past men in bowler hats and women in bonnets. Compared to the quiet isolation that exists within the suburbs, the city buzzes with a frenetic energy that screams liveliness, and it hits you like a tidal wave after all the solitary afternoons spent in your family’s garden.

The art supply store is much larger than you expected, with a ceiling that extends all the way up, leading to a skylight. Renjun is evidently familiar with the place from the way he weaves from shelf to shelf, and you follow quietly, observing him at work. Renjun is secretive about his art, even to his close friends, and you only get to see his works displayed when they are displayed at galleries or sold at auctions.

He’s quick to arrange for the materials to be delivered by the end of today, and the both of you head to the exit.

“Well, this is where I have to leave you now. Have fun, but stay safe.” The way Renjun talks to you makes you feel like a little child, but that’s just how he is.

“We haven’t seen each other in so long. Are you not free for a meal?” There’s disappointment evident in your voice. As much as you do not mind spending time by yourself in the city, you would much rather have Renjun by your side.

“I wish I was, but there’s a meeting with a sponsor I can’t miss. I can send you home again, though. Can you meet me here in two hours?” You nod in assent, watching as Renjun strides down until he eventually disappears around a corner.

It’s just you now, and the bustling streets of New York City. This is the most lively area of the city, with art galleries and restaurants littering every street. You’re drawn to one, in particular, its elegant marble arches and stained glass fixtures taking your breath away. When you step in, you’re immediately surrounded by commotion. It’s unusually crowded for a gallery, and from the attire of everyone around you, it’s likely no typical event. You grab a glass of champagne from a waiter’s tray as you weave through the crowds, attempting to find a less crowded area.

You eventually pause in front of a winged sculpture that takes up most of the space in its display case.

“Enjoying the exhibition?”

“Well, I suppose you could say so.” You don’t turn around to view the source of the voice, too enraptured in reading the description that accompanies the figure.

“And you’re not going to say you came here to find me?” The voice is cocky, but slightly petulant, and all too reminiscent of someone you know. You turn around sharply, eyebrows furrowing.

“Donghyuck? I didn’t know you were here-”

“Yeah, I figured, considering how you made a straight beeline for the gallery instead of me. Why didn’t you tell me your parents let you leave the house?” There’s a note of hurt in his voice, and you grin slightly. It’s almost adorable, but also comforting, having the knowledge that Donghyuck values your presence as much as you do his.

You make your way over to him, ruffling his hair slightly. He bends down reflexively for you to do so, and it makes you feel like you’re a young child again. It’s something only Donghyuck can do, you think. He represents every part of your childhood, and makes you feel as if you’re young again, without a care in the world.

“I snuck out,” you whisper proudly, and Donghyuck raises his eyebrows, slightly impressed. As far as he knows, he’s the rule-breaker out of both of you.

“Anyways, what are you doing here? You’ve never been one much for art.”

“My family’s the one organizing this exhibition and the auction later. As their only son, I have to be here,” Donghyuck replies, and you nod in understanding. Despite his frivolous nature, he still fulfils his duties to the utmost extent, and you suppose that’s why you’ve never chided Donghyuck for his occasionally irresponsible actions. If anything, you’re more worried about his liver and his general health from all the red wine and sleepless nights he has.

“Then…are your parents here?” You ask nervously, fiddling with your hands. You’ve never met Donghyuck’s parents, and you’re not sure if you want to. You’ve seen them in the newspapers, of course, and in passing at important events, but never long enough to draw any notice. Though they’re definitely aware of your presence, it seems they’ve decided to ignore it as a minor inconvenience. Similar to how your parents treat Donghyuck now, you think.

Donghyuck shakes his head happily, however. “They’re out temporarily to settle some stuff for the auction, so it’s just me helming the event. It’s about time for lunch, though.” As if coordinated, your stomach rumbles, and Donghyuck lets out a laugh at it.

“My treat for lunch. To celebrate my best friend’s temporary freedom,” he teases, and you smile up at him.

Before the both of you can exit, however, a man strides in. His eyebrows are thin and pinched, much like the rest of his features. There is a certain unwelcoming air to him, and you notice Donghyuck turning imperceptibly stiff.

“Ah. Haechan. I was wondering where the golden boy of the Lee family was.” His voice is haughty, belying sarcasm, and you immediately decide that you don’t particularly like this man. There’s something about him that spells malice, as if he’s deliberately out to get you.

“Mr Park. A pleasure to see that you’re doing well,” Donghyuck returns with a sickly sweet smile, one that you know is entirely false. It’s the smile reserved for the people he likes the least, and you’re rendered even more curious about who this Mr Park is.

“And who’s this lady friend of yours?’ Mr Park says, turning to you. The way his gaze looks you up and down makes you shudder slightly, and Donghyuck immediately steps forward. However, you’re determined to not back down.

“The name’s Y/N L/N,” you bite out, eyes narrowed at him.

“Y/N L/N? I believe I know your father. Still, what are you doing running around with a boy like Haechan?” There is an almost predatory glint in his eye as he takes in the both of you, and you’re sure he’s aware of the not-so-well-concealed feud between both you and Donghyuck’s families.

“If you excuse us. Y/N and I are rather busy. Especially if you consider the prominence of our families,” Donghyuck’s low tone is condescending, betraying a hint of danger, and it's something you’re unused to.

You realise that this is Lee Haechan, heir to a major business conglomerate and the reigning king of New York high society. The front he shows to everyone else, that gives him a sense of notoriety. His palm is warm against the small of the back as he guides you out of the room, but the both of you are not fast enough to escape Mr Park’s last comment.

“Busy, huh? I wonder what your parents will say when they find out their son is playing in his own version of Romeo and Juliet as the male lead.”

It takes you a while to figure out the meaning behind Mr Park’s words, but they settle into you with a feeling of unease. Not the idea that Mr Park thinks you and Donghyuck are romantically involved- that’s the least of your concerns. But is that what your friendship with Donghyuck is destined for? Tragedy?

Donghyuck seems to sense your emotional turmoil and smooths his hands over yours. “Don’t think about what that guy said. He just spews whatever nonsense comes to mind. My parents don’t like him either.” The smile that you give Donghyuck is shaky, but he’ll take it.

“If anything, I would be Juliet. I’m not daft enough to drink poison just because I thought you died,” he states, and you roll your eyes. However, your heart feels a bit lighter, and you’re able to pass the walk to lunch in comfortable silence.

Later that afternoon, Donghyuck watches silently as you get back in the car with Renjun and drive off. He would offer, but he’s not sure if his showing up would only further undermine your parents’ impression of him. Sometimes, he feels almost like some sort of parasite, clinging to you until even your relationship with your father has become increasingly tense. Still, he can’t seem to detach from you for too long. You’ve been such a big part of his world for as long as he can remember. He’s not sure what he would do to fill the space if you disappeared.

He may have also lied to you about Mr Park, but hopefully, you’ll never know that. Donghyuck feels oddly protective over you, even though he knows you’re perfectly capable of handling yourself. It’s probably just because you’re one of the few genuinely close friends he has, and he can’t afford to lose any.

When Donghyuck finally returns to the gallery, the people present are much more sparse, everyone already heading out for dinner.

“Lee Haechan. Where were you?” His father’s voice is low and cuts across the shadows of the room, and Donghyuck almost trips on his own feet out of surprise. Of course. Mr Park, that desperate ladder-climber. He would do anything to curry favour with Donghyuck’s father.

“I see you still refuse to address me by my birth name. If you have to know, I was with Y/N.”

”That wench again? Mr Park informed me of what he saw today. Stop fooling around and get your head back on straight.”

Donghyuck feels his jaw clenching, fingers curled into a fist. You’re no wench, as much as his father likes to call you one. But his father thinks anyone is below him, even his own son and wife.

“She’s my friend.” Donghyuck finds his voice wavering, and he hates it. Twenty-one, and yet he still feels fear at the sight of his father. It’s a painful relationship they have, really. His father cannot abandon him because Donghyuck is his heir and more than capable enough, even if he despises him. Besides, no respectable member of the gentry should have to endure the shameful scandal of a runaway son. And Donghyuck refuses to abandon his mother and the life he has now outside of his father.

But every time he finds himself close to the limit, it’s always about you.

“She’s a competitor, you idiot. I may not like the girl, but I have an ounce of respect for her being smart enough to have my only son wrapped around her finger as such. If you tire of the women you have, I’ll send more.”

“How dare you-”

“I dare, Haechan, because I’m your father and the only reason why your sorry little life and that of your mother’s still exist. And my power extends outside as well. Don’t make me do something you’ll regret. It would be a pity if the family lost their oldest daughter, don’t you think?”

The air seems to hush, a deathly silence overtaking the hall. Donghyuck can feel his heartbeat slowing, his anger cooling to a numbing fear as he takes in the implications of his father’s words. He knows his family does have unsavoury ties to the less respectable areas of society, but he’s always chosen to ignore it. Donghyuck’s not sure how far his father is willing to go to do what he deems necessary, but the idea of finding out causes his mouth to turn dry.

To lose you….that only spells two consequences, none of them good. And he’s not sure if your family is enough to protect you, wealthy as they are. He knows your parents. They are kind, even if they’ve distanced themselves from him. Compared to his father, yours is nowhere as cold-blooded. But he would be devastated at the thought of anything happening to you. It’s two birds with one stone, he realises. To topple his business opponent, and reign in his son.

In that moment, standing in that gallery with the man who raised him, Donghyuck feels so very helpless. He’s angry at so many things. His father, the situation the both of you are in, and himself. For not being good enough to protect you, for being the reason why you fell out with your father, for putting you in danger each and every single time he seeks you out.

It’s a terrible time to have this realisation, but Donghyuck loves you. He realises it when he’s pacing in his room later that evening, his father’s threats looming over his head and causing anxiety to rake its claws in him.

Of course, he loves you as his best friend, the one who’s been by his side since he was young and provided a respite away from the cold home that he had grown up in. Still, it seems that there’s always something more, something missing. Donghyuck doesn’t have anything to rely on, considering his parents had a loveless marriage.

However, looking at your family, and looking at you, he thinks he might understand love a little more.

Of course, he would fall hopelessly for someone who had grown up with so much care and affection to give.

The moments where he sees couples on the streets, and wonder if the both of you look like them even if you’re not hand-in-hand.

That night on the balcony, when he thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen in his life. And the time on the rooftop, when he wished to just lean into you, and close the distance.

Donghyuck realises that he’s loved you for most of his life, even before he knew what love was. His name may mean the sun, but he finds himself orbiting around you instead.

The use of Romeo and Juliet feels ironically bitter now, and Donghyuck scoffs at the impossibility of the situation. His love isn’t enough to untangle this web of threads that the both of you are stuck in, unless he cuts through them entirely. You’ll get hurt, but at least you’ll be free. It’ll be as painful as cutting his own heart out, but Donghyuck would gladly place your safety above his.

Fifteen years is a long, long time to love someone. Yet, Donghyuck now feels as if all the time in the world would not be enough to love you.

november, 1912

He’s not coming today, Y/N.

When it hits almost two in the morning, that’s when you give up. It’s been two months since you’ve last seen Donghyuck, and since he stopped coming to your window in the middle of the night. You shouldn’t be disappointed- It must be tiring for him, and you’ve gone longer than that without seeing Donghyuck. Still, you can’t help the sense of dread that pervades you every single time you stand at your balcony, and his familiar face isn’t in sight.

You’ve been able to call Renjun and your other friends, but they’re disappointingly sparse with updates about Donghyuck, besides the usual of him at parties. It’s like he’s still normal to everyone, except you. You’ve tried calling Donghyuck’s estate, but you’ve always given up in fear of his parents being the ones to pick up. You had once left a note for his housekeeper, but it seems that it didn’t exactly get through.

You stare up at the ceiling from where you are in your bed, head swirling with thoughts. Maybe he’s busy with his work. After all, that’s likely the most plausible reason. Despite that, unease settles in you, and your sleep is fitful.

The midday sun greets you once you wake up, and you’re surprised at how late you’ve woken up. Lunch is already halfway through when you’re down, your father at the head of the table.

“Good morning,” you say slightly drowsily as you settle down and pour yourself a heaping cup of coffee, and your parents both smile slightly at you, your father moving the bread basket over. Throughout the past few months, you suppose his initial anger and worry about Donghyuck has mellowed somewhat.

“Y/N. Tell the driver to bring you where you want from now on,” your father mutters, and you almost drop the sugar cube out of shock.

“What?” You look up at him incredulously, unwilling to believe that perhaps, you might be allowed to leave.

Your mother smiles kindly at you, though her eyes are sympathetic. “Your father was just scared of the rumours surrounding you and Donghyuck. But they’re gone now, and we haven’t seen the boy in a while. Besides, you’re an adult now. As your parents, we can’t stop you from doing what you want.”

You can’t stop the grin that makes its way onto your face, and you immediately engulf the both of them in a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’ll be sensible, I promise.” Breakfast forgotten, you immediately run up to your room to get ready, unaware of the words your parents exchange with each other.

“I know Donghyuck is a good and kind boy. But he’ll bring trouble everywhere he goes, with that father of his.”

“He makes her happy. Let them figure it out.”

Despite your parents’ discouragement, your first course of action is to find Donghyuck. By the time you leave, it’s in the late afternoon, which means the weekly parties will start at any time. If you’ve estimated the weeks correctly, it’s Renjun’s turn this time.

The drive down to Renjun’s house is far, but scenic. He had deliberately chosen the very outskirts. of the suburbs, and bought the land surrounding the property as well, so as to ensure only greenery would be seen. You think his estate is the prettiest, though yours comes to a close second.

When you reach, people are already beginning to mill about, and you’re grateful you dressed appropriately. It takes you long enough to make your way past the gardens, to the main foyer, and then down a few side hallways to reach the room that Renjun saves for his close friends.

“Hello, everyone. Missed me?” Your voice is playful as you walk in, and Renjun immediately sits up, a smile lighting up his features.

“I didn’t think you’d actually make it. Congratulations on your freedom.” He passes you a glass of Sauvignon, so dark it almost looks like blood. Jeno lifts his glass to you in a silent toast, grinning. Your eyes scan the room, but you frown. “This is Donghyuck’s favourite wine. Why isn’t he here finishing it all?” Your tone is light, but you’re genuinely wondering where the man has run off to, considering he’s rarely separated from Renjun.

However, Renjun’s expression looks almost sheepish, and it makes you even more confused. He places his hands on your shoulders gently, steering you in the direction of the couch. “Donghyuck’s a little preoccupied. He’ll be back soon.”

Renjun seems insistent, and so you leave him be. However, one hour and six poker games later, you’re starting to get genuinely concerned.

“Renjun, can you bring me to Donghyuck?” You ask, and Renjun looks like he’s been put in a difficult spot.

“Renjun. Where is he?” Your tone is serious now, and the man in front of you lets out a sigh, looking resigned. He gets up, waving a hand for you to follow him. “Down that hallway. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You’re equal parts fearful and baffled. It’s Donghyuck. What would you have to fear? You turn the corner, and hear coquettish giggles coming out of a room. You roll your eyes. Renjun was just being dramatic, after all. This is nothing that you’re not used to, even if you find it slightly distasteful.

When you knock on the open door, signalling your presence, the two women sitting next to Donghyuck immediately look up, before their eyes widen in realisation. Donghyuck straightens and leans forward, his eyes slightly hazed over by alcohol but still aware of your presence. You stare at him from where you are standing, eyebrow raised.

“Who are you?”

That is the one question you’re not expecting, and your posture immediately straightens. “What? Donghyuck, you must be really drunk. It’s me, Y/N.” Your voice is still light, unaware of the situation, and Donghyuck swallows, looking at you directly before he speaks.

“Ah. What’s the heir of the L/N family doing in this room? Unless…you would like to join?” Donghyuck’s mouth is curled in a smirk, and it causes a sour feeling to appear in your mouth. What sort of game is he playing here? Donghyuck’s never made you feel small, or put you in a spot.

And yet, now, the situation is becoming increasingly uncomfortable. The two women are staring, doubtful of what to do. You feel slightly humiliated, and you’re not sure how to bridge the gap between you and him.

“Could you leave us, please?” You tilt your head meaningfully at the two other women in the room, who thankfully, leave without much hesitation. Donghyuck seems sad to see them go, a petulant pout on his face.

“If you just wanted me to yourself, you could have said so,” he says snarkily, and you roll your eyes. “Donghyuck, this is ridiculous. Why did you do that?”

“Why not? It was funny. Also, my name’s Haechan. Not Donghyuck.”

“What? Donghyuck, we’ve known each other for so long. Whatever prank you’re playing, cut it out.” You’re completely bewildered now, eyes piercing into Donghyuck from across the room, while he remains relaxed, legs spread out comfortably on the chaise. He swallows, and it seems like it’s the first time you’ve seen him hesitate in the past ten minutes or so.

“It’s not a prank. I’m tired.” You’re frozen at the door, and haven’t moved from it since you stepped in.

“If you’re tired, you should rest-”

“Not physically. I’m tired of you. Our friendship. Whatever. It’s annoying. I was having fun and then you ruined it.” His words don’t make sense to you at first, considering the implausibility of his statement. You laugh in incredulity at first. This must be some poorly-conceived prank he came up with. After all, he has gone too far by accident before, but you’ve always been quick to let him know. However, it’s hard to contain your own infuriation, especially at his careless words.

“Are you…are you serious?” He shrugs. “Yeah. I’m sick of it.”

This prank is exceedingly cruel, even for him.

That’s when the cold tendrils of fear begin to surround you. The fact that he might mean what he’s saying, that this isn’t some stupid joke his poor, half-addled brain conjured up. His expression is painfully earnest, and your throat constricts uncomfortably.

“Donghyuck, if I did something-”

“You didn’t do anything. I just don’t want to be associated with you anymore. It’s difficult, you know? And exhausting. We weren’t meant to be friends anyways.”

Your heart is breaking, but you’re sure only you can hear it, judging by the nonchalant expression on Donghyuck’s face. “Alright. I understand.” Your hands are trembling as you quickly turn on your heel. However, before you move past the threshold, you find that there’s still something you want to say.

“You know, it was difficult for me too. But I thought it was worth it. With you. I’m sorry you found it exhausting.”

You run out of the room before your tears can escape, leaving Donghyuck behind.

Unluckily enough, you collide right into Renjun. “See, Y/N, I told you not to go because I didn’t want you to get upset- are you crying?” His voice holds a note of surprise.

“Hey, listen to me. Donghyuck really does love you. He just has a terrible fucking way of expressing it. I’ll talk to him,” Renjun says, and you pull away from him. “What?”

“Don’t you have romantic feelings for him? I just didn’t want you to get hurt-”

You shake your head vehemently. “Renjun, where did you get this from?”

“I thought it was obvious to everyone. But that isn’t why you’re crying?” He’s just as muddled as you are now, and you’re still unable to wrap your head around everything that’s happened and what Renjun is saying.

“He told me he got bored and tired of the friendship. And essentially doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore. That’s why I was crying. Still am, actually.”

You watch as Renjun’s face gradually transforms from confusion to anger, and you would feel scared if you were on the receiving end. However, you feel strangely comforted. “That guy must be drunk out of his mind. Don’t take anything seriously, okay? I’ll talk to him. That idiot-”

You extend a hand to grab Renjun’s arm to stop him from making his way to Donghyuck, smiling a watery smile at him. “Renjun, it’s okay. Drunk words are sober thoughts, right? I kind of understand, even if he could have been a little nicer about it. I’ll just go back home now. Don’t worry about me.”

From the way your smile wavers, Renjun knows nothing is alright, but he can only watch hopelessly as you go, unsure how to mend the situation. When Donghyuck barely mentioned you and refused to partake in any conversation involving the mention of your name, Renjun had thought it strange, but ignored it.

Now, he understood. Something was very, very wrong.

There was only one person he could seek clarification from. And so, despite your protests, he stormed towards the sitting room that Donghyuck was in.

When he sees the boy in question, he scoffs angrily and storms over. “Stop drinking already,” he mutters, wrenching the wine bottle out of Donghyuck’s hand. Occasionally, the sight of Donghyuck tipsy is amusing, but now he just seems pathetic to Renjun.

“Cut it out, Renjun. Are you here to ruin my fun too?”

Donghyuck’s being mean on purpose, but Renjun’s already much more prepared to handle the situation. He’s always been more emotionally mature than most and wonders how heavy a blow this must have been for you.

“Don’t tell me to cut it out when you’re the one who messed up. Y/N just ran out of here crying, and I want to know what the hell is wrong with you,” Renjun says determinedly, and Donghyuck looks up at him, cloudy eyes temporarily replaced with regretful sobriety.

“She cried?”

“You’re sorry now? I’m not surprised, after what you said to her.” Renjun knows he’s being harsh, for Donghyuck must be hiding something, but he can’t help it. You’re his friend too, even if he’s close to Donghyuck.

Still, he wants to help to mend whatever it is. Because he knows that you’re one of the people that Donghyuck loves most in the world, even if the boy resolutely refuses to admit it.

Donghyuck sinks back into the couch, eyes closed. Renjun’s heart softens a little at the sight. This is the most defeated he’s seen Donghyuck in the decade that he’s known him. It’s a tendency of Donghyuck’s, to keep his problems to himself. Renjun understands because he’s done it before too.

The fear of being a burden is a heavy one to carry. He supposes for Donghyuck, it’s even worse because he doesn’t have anyone at home to rely on. And everyone expects the sun to keep on shining, day in and day out.

“Come on, Donghyuck. Out with it.”

“God, Renjun, you know I don’t mean any of what I said. It’s more likely that Y/N would get tired of me, honestly.” Donghyuck lets out a laugh at his own words, but it comes out bitter and forced.

“It’s my father. He made certain…threats. I cut Y/N off to keep her safe.” Renjun immediately understands the meaning behind Donghyuck’s words, but even then, he furrows his eyebrows.

“God, you’re an idiot, Lee Donghyuck.” His eyes open slightly then, and he looks at Renjun.

“What? No, Renjun, you don’t understand. My father can and will make good on his threats-”

“I know exactly what kind of person Mr Lee is. I don’t think pushing Y/N away will do anything at all. If your father wanted to make a move, he would have a long time ago. Besides, if he did anything now, the culprit is obvious. You don’t actually think Y/N is helpless, do you?” Renjun realises that the idea of you getting hurt has sent Donghyuck into a panic, muddling his judgement.

“Of course she’s not helpless, but she’s no match for-”

“Think about it, Donghyuck. Y/N’s family is one of the richest and the most powerful in the entire of upstate New York. The both of you may think that you’ve been able to keep your friendship under wraps, but her family has her under heavy protection. You think your father has connections? So does hers. There are eyes everywhere in this city, on you, her, and you both. She has plenty of people to protect her. Your father would be asking for retribution if he tried anything.”

Donghyuck finally falls silent then, mulling over Renjun’s words. There’s a sense of relief as he realises you’re no longer in danger. After all, that was his only goal. Even though Donghyuck doesn’t reply, Renjun knows that his words have gotten through somewhat, from the way that the clouds in Donghyuck’s expression have cleared up.

However, another realization quickly sinks in, and Donghyuck’s eyes fall dim again.

“God, then the things I said-”

“You broke her heart, you idiot. Go and find her, before she decides she’s done with you for good,” Renjun says, and Donghyuck turns to him sharply, a confused look on his face.

It is then that Renjun realises how for as oblivious as you are, there is no one more ignorant than Lee Donghyuck himself.

“Y/N’s in love with you too, just in case you haven’t realised.”

Donghyuck looks completely disbelieving, and Renjun tries not to roll his eyes. The both of you are much too similar, he can’t help but think. “Just ask her yourself.” Donghyuck curses under his breath, before grabbing his jacket and running out of the room, and Renjun watches as he goes.

As much as Renjun is tired of seeing the both of you dance in circles around one another, he wonders if just maybe, this time, the both of you might get your happy ending.

Donghyuck’s mind is blank when he stands underneath your window, the cold air quickly making him clear-headed. He’s trembling, and it’s not from the cold air whipping around, but rather his nerves. He tries not to shiver as he goes through the familiar motions of throwing pebbles against your window.

Five minutes pass, and then ten. With each second, Donghyuck’s heart falls further and further down, and he’s not sure if you want anything to do with him at this moment. Still, he’ll stand here the entire night, if it means he can have a moment with you.

Just then, the door to your window cracks open, and Donghyuck’s breath hitches. You’re still wearing your dress from earlier, but your hair is mussed and your makeup is mostly gone.

Donghyuck thinks you look breathtaking.

It seems that once he confronted the full weight of his feelings for you, they’ve only intensified. He supposes that explains why there’s a strange pressure in his chest whenever he sees your face, and it’s like the breath is stolen from his lungs.

You remain silent, expression unmoving as you stare down at Donghyuck. He finally collects his thoughts, and looks up at you beseechingly.

“I need to talk to you. Can I come in?” You seem to pause, expression stricken, before nodding. Donghyuck exhales loudly in relief, but he hopes you didn’t catch it.

You can’t help but keep your eyes fixed on him as he makes his way up the familiar bricks. As much as you remember his words from earlier, you can’t help but be concerned for his safety. You refuse to admit that his presence here has allowed the tiniest tendril of hope to snake into your heart.

Donghyuck immediately drifts in the direction of your fireplace, even as his eyes remain firmly lodged on you, and you realise he must have been freezing while waiting for you.

However, he seems considerably tense as he turns back to you, eyes searching and assessing. You make a deliberate effort not to show any outward emotion, but you know that your eyes are still red-rimmed from earlier, and there are still visible tear tracks.

“I thought you made your opinion quite clear. Are you here to go into even more detail?” The words come out firm, and Donghyuck tries not to flinch. You have every right to be angry, after all.

“No, it’s not that. I swear it’s not that. I’m here to apologise. And if you decide that you don’t want anything to do with me ever again, that’s okay. I’ll go back right out the way I came.” His eyes are pleading, hands wide open in supplication.

You don’t say anything, and Donghyuck takes it as a positive affirmation for him to keep going.

He has to do this.

“I got…scared,” he confesses, and you arch an eyebrow slightly, waiting for him to continue. But your heart is already shifting towards forgiveness, and you’re not sure if it’s foolish.

“I thought that by pushing you away, I could protect you from my father. I know that I’m wrong now, and I’m sorry. For what I said, which hurt you, untrue as it was. I didn’t think any of it through.”

There’s so much fear and anxiety in each sentence that escapes Donghyuck, and you wonder how much he must have thought about this. About how to protect you in the only way he could, even if it meant hurting you in the process.

Even then, you’re not prepared for what he says next.

“You’re one of the most precious people to me, and I’m not exactly the most clear-headed when it comes to the ones I love.”

There’s a pause, and it feels like the world has tilted on its axis.

“You love me?” You ask, eyes wavering as you search Donghyuck’s for even a hint of deceit.

Yet, you think you already know the answer. Away from the events of today, Donghyuck’s love for you is painfully obvious from everything he does.

He immediately strides over, hands cupping your face gently as he leans down until his face is level with yours.

“Of course I do, you beautiful, brilliant woman. How could I not? I would never tire of this,” he whispers, and your heart constricts delightfully.

You’re not sure if Donghyuck can hear the audible thudding of your pulse, but you feel as if the room is spinning, and he’s the only thing grounding you. You think about what Renjun said in the hallway. The line between platonic and romantic love was so very, very fine. And it muddied so often, so easily, for you and Donghyuck.

Right now, with him in front of you, you think that perhaps, the idea of crossing that line doesn’t sound so bad.

You swallow, head tilting up to look at him. Your best friend, Donghyuck. The person you loved the most, and the only one who could make you laugh and cry with just a few simple words.

‘When you asked if I wanted to join you, in that room. What if I said I wanted to be the only one?” You ask, your gaze aimed directly at Donghyuck’s.

When he takes in your words, his stare darkens briefly, before quickly softening. He steps impossibly closer, until you can feel the warmth of your body against his.

Your lips are so very close to his now. You think your breathing might have just stopped.

“Then you’ll be the only one. Always have been,” he mutters, before closing the distance between the both of you.

When Donghyuck kisses you, it feels as if a piece of your heart has finally settled.

His lips press against yours insistently but gently, and you find your hands making their way up to grip the lapels of his jacket. You’re bending backwards slightly, and might have lost your balance if it wasn’t for the steady grip of his hands, one on your waist and the other on your cheek.

Donghyuck kisses you languidly, as if he has all the time in the world to do so. You find yourself smiling into the kiss, but bite back a gasp when his tongue slips into your mouth briefly, almost teasing.

You pull back, flustered, hands lightly pushing at Donghyuck’s shoulders. Your cheeks are bright red now, but you can’t help but miss the phantom feeling of his lips on yours. Donghyuck smirks now, much more confident, and you refuse to meet his gaze.

Your wide eyes and messy hair, courtesy of Donghyuck, has something softening imperceptibly in his heart. He smooths a palm over your hair, and strokes a thumb over your cheek fondly. A small part of him still thinks he’s dreaming. Still, he knows that this wouldn’t be something he could conjure up by himself.

You’re everything he’s ever wanted and needed, and Donghyuck refuses to let you go if you’re willing to stay.

“I meant it when I said you were the only one. I was fearful that I would scare you away. I know I say stupid things sometimes, and I make bad decisions. But thank you. For not running away, and staying. Fifteen years ago, and now.” The sincerity in Donghyuck’s voice is startling, but comforting all the same.

“You’ve stayed for me too, Donghyuck. I don’t think you realise how much other people love you. you have so much love to give, but it’s okay to receive it sometimes,” you reply, looking at the boy in front of you, the one who carries too much doubt and worry and hides it behind a smooth veneer of cheer and mischief.

He doesn’t say anything, but the way Donghyuck squeezes your hand gratefully tells you that he’s heard you.

The soft sound of voices drifting from outside causes you to freeze, until you realise it’s just Miyeon being put to bed by the nanny. You let out a breath of relief, and Donghyuck smiles gently.

“It’s late. I should go.”

However, just as Donghyuck’s about to make his way back down, you find yourself filled with a sense of reluctance. You don’t want to let him go just yet.

“Hyuck. Stay the night,” you say, and he immediately halts, backtracking into the room. His gaze is doubtful, as he processes your words.

“Like here? With you?” You nod, and it’s almost amusing how it’s Donghyuck’s turn to turn slightly red.

“You act like you didn’t stay over so many times when we were kids. Even though my parents made you sleep on the floor, you’d always pester me to let you get into the bed instead.”

“It’s different now, Y/N.”

“Not that different. You’re still my best friend, Hyuck. We just also happen to be in a relationship,” you state as you tug the blanket over your waist and grab a pillow to pass to him, turning off the lights.

Donghyuck eventually makes his way to the other side, and you turn until the both of you are facing each other while lying down. His features are soft in the dim light of the room, and you run your finger over his profile, pausing briefly at the freckle on his cheekbone.

“Well, then I suppose being romantically involved entitles me to some liberties.” His voice is hushed, filling you with a sense of anticipation.

“Like?” Your voice is muffled, slightly sleepy as you lean into the pillow, but curious.

“Like this,” he whispers, before pulling you towards him by your waist and peppering your face with kisses. Your giggles ring out in the quiet of the room, but they’re quickly silenced by Donghyuck kissing you again. You eagerly reciprocate, lips moving against his in a perfect cadence, and you can’t seem to stop smiling.

It’s easy, being in love with Donghyuck. Almost as if you’ve done it your entire life.

That night, the both of you fall asleep with your limbs tangled together, barely visible in the dim twilight of the room. Your parents may be furious, but you find yourself unable to care, not when you can hear the sound of Donghyuck’s heartbeat from the way you lean against his chest.

After all, what you and Donghyuck have is better than gold, and you wouldn’t exchange a single thing in the world for it.

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animeismyhappyplace · 1 year

Text

Who knew missing a work meeting could lead to this?!

Y/N misses one of Port Mafia Executive Chuuya Nakahara's team meetings so she must explain herself to him, he invites her back to his place under the guise she needs to help him with paperwork when smut ensues.

This is my own work not a reblog! Please do not repost or translate without permission as I've worked very hard on this!

TW - Minors DNI!

daddy kink, pet names, bondage play. Might be a lil OOC I've never written for Chuuya before or written kink smut so be kind 🙏

Word Limit: just over 4K 🥵

Y/N had been avoiding her supervisor officer all week, she had deliberately missed his most recent bi weekly round up meeting and she knew he'd be pissed at her for it. She'd rounded a corner in the main Port Mafia building when she heard a stern voice speak out "Why didn't you come to the meeting we had?" she sighs and looks down at her shoes suddenly finding them very interesting "Can we go to your office sir? I'd feel much more comfortable talking in private?" She hadn't even turned to look at him yet before she heard him mumble a non committal "Whatever" listening as his shoes hit against the marble floors so she turned and followed him down the small corridor. When they finally reached his office he ushered her in pushing gently at her lower back as she took in his office, not for the first time and probably not the last time, it's walls were painted in a sleek grey and silver theme very minimalist if she did think so herself but exactly what one may expect from a Port Mafia executive she thought as she sat in the black office chair across from his own. As he sat down she could see the annoyance that burned across his face at having to have another meeting about this topic which was cutting into his personal time, his fingers thumped against his desk as he looked across to her "So? What do you have to say for yourself this time L/N?" She gulped at his tone before responding sheepishly "I wasn't actually sure I'd need to come honestly, I've felt kind of sidelined on recent missions and wasn't sure I was strong enough to be classed as your subordinate. I know my ability can be useful but I don't know..." She trails off as she looks to the side focusing on a rather small speck of dust on his computer screen until she hears his huff wearily "You're not being sidelined, you're just getting more experience." he says sternly before taking a sip of what looked like some variation of a red wine. "And besides, you're doing great work so far you just lack confidence." The woman can't help but pout slightly at her mentors words as true as they may be that doesn't stop the string that hits her chest and settled in the cracks of her heart "it doesn't feel that way honestly sir" she can't look him in the eyes when she's still so unsure of her place on his team, it's a highly sought after post she knows this but maybe that's what makes it hurt more knowing she's not good enough for it yet.

He watches her crestfallen face for a moment before he replies "It does feel good that you're here, trust me." his tone softens slightly but there is still an edge to it "I'm sorry I disappointed you sir...it won't happen again! Did I miss much? maybe you could give me a recap now if you're able" she pleads to her mentor to not give up on her just yet "We were discussing our next week..." He pauses for a moment before continuing "...and then someone interrupted us by saying they wanted to talk about their feelings about certain member of the team..." he takes another sip of his wine before he begins again "she wants to quit now" shock racks across her face "That's not good, we can't afford to lose any more members especially if they keep going to the ADA, I'll...talk with whoever it is maybe I can change their mind!" She offers up her suggestion hastily "No, no," he shakes his head quickly "Don't bother talking to her, let her go, we don't need anyone who isn't loyal anymore." he stares at her intently "Just tell her that she needs to stay or else she'll regret it later." She gulps as she nods understanding the severity of wanting the leave the mafia "Of course sir. I'll pass the message on" she stutters out. "Good girl." She can't help but flush pink at the term, he's never called her anything like that before.

He smiles faintly as he leans back in his chair "Now then, what else should we discuss?" his eyes wander around the room for a second before returning to look directly into her e/c eyes "Do you know why Higuchi wants to leave?" he asks calmly yet firmly "N-no sir why?" "Because she didn't agree with your plans for the future." He says bluntly "Because she thought you weren't taking care of yourself enough." He pauses briefly before adding "But most importantly, she couldn't stand being near you anymore." He sighs deeply "That's all there was to it" "What?! I haven't done anything to offend her... Have I?" she starts to sift through memories to see what she had done to hurt her friend "Of course you did! You were always so irritating!" He snaps angrily "You never cared about getting yourself nearly killed which puts everyone else in danger too!"

He stands up suddenly and begins pacing around the room "It doesn't matter how many times you apologize or beg forgiveness, nothing will ever change the fact that you're an awful subordinate" she can't help the hurt that shoots into her chest and flashes across her face "I have always tried my best!...sir..." She stops talking about her voice can crack with pain. "Oh please..." His voice drops slightly as he stops pacing and turns towards her "...don't lie to yourself." He takes another step closer until their faces are almost touching "The truth is plain to see now. All these years spent trying to make everyone happy only made you miserable in the end." Her brow furrows at his statement "Maybe...but the team functions better now than it ever has! Someone had to sacrifice for the better of the organisation" the chair she'd been sitting on now lies on the floor as she jumps up to confront him "Sacrifice?" He laughs mockingly "Is that really what this is about?! Are you saying that by sacrificing yourself for others, you somehow achieved greatness?!" He shakes his head sadly "No one lives life without making sacrifices sometimes, especially those who wish to succeed in their goals." She looks down then before mumbling out her reply "I've sacrificed as much as you have, I can't imagine being a executive has been without it's struggles" he smiles softly "Yes, it has been hard work, but worth every second of it." He gives her a small nod before turning back to face her "And now here we are. The perfect balance between efficiency and effectiveness. It seems like everything has come together perfectly." He chuckles lightly.

she glances to the side of his desk seeing all the unfinished mission statements that need completed when she suddenly has an idea "Why you don't head home early sir and I'll finish all that work for you" his expression softens "I'm sure it'd be a big help for you" he chuckles softly as he shakes his head "You don't need to do that, it's my work I'll do it". Y/N shakes her head firmly not wanting to budge "well there must be some way I can make up for missing the meeting?" He thinks for a moment "How about you come to my place tonight?" He smirks at the girl in front of him as she turns a dark red thinking of the implications of his words "Sir? Do you need help with the papers? Or..." She trails off not really sure what she's asking him he nods slowly "Yeah, I wouldn't mind having someone around while I work on these papers. Plus, I think you'd enjoy spending time with me right?" He winks playfully at her.

That stops her in her tracks does he know about her little crush why else would he offer for her to come to his come when they could work on his reports here. Finally she gulps down the saliva that pools under her tongue and nods slowly not trusting her words, to be shown such attention from an executive as highly thought of as Chuuya was exciting to say the least. He grins widely "Good girl~" He takes out his phone and types in a few commands before handing it to her to input her number, "Text me whenever you're free so we can hangout"she nods quickly and inputs her number "I thought we were heading back tonight?" She tilts her head confused "Oh we are I just need to finish finalising something real quick then we will go.

Chuuya's fingers clack at the keyboard quickly for a few moments before he speaks again " We should probably go soon since it's getting late already" He stands up and stretches his arms above his head to stretch out his aching back "Let's get going then shall we?" Y/N grabs the few belongings she brought with her today and looks to her mentor "Ready when you are" He nods to her and they leave the building together.

They walk through the dark streets together until they reach Chuuya's apartment building where he unlocks the door and leads her inside, she walks inside of his penthouse tentatively, looking around at his sleek walls and plush looking furniture "You have a lovely apartment sir" she breaths out taking every inch in "Thank you very much for today, coming to see me about the missed meeting" He sits down on one of the couches and pats his lap invitingly "Come sit with me". He looks at her expectantly waiting for her response "You look stunning today by the way. You're wearing something a little more...revealing today...that for me?" He smirks to himself she flushes as she looks down at her blouse it had been unseasonally hot recently and lighter slightly more revealing work outfits had been essential "I-it's been so hot recently I've needed to adapt my clothes I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable sir" she frowns as she joins him on the couch "No worries, I don't mind seeing you wear something like that" His gaze lingers over her body "It suits you well though" He reaches forward and gently touches her arm "You know what else would suit you perfectly? If you took off your jacket" she shrugs the material off quickly almost as if it lingered on her skin any longer it would burn her "Would you be willing to try something new for me" He looks into her eyes expectantly.

She nods almost dazed as she looks down at his hand which is tracing small lines into her skin "What would you like to try sir?" He leans closer and whispers in her ear "How about I tie down your pretty hands to my bed~?" He chuckles softly before pulling away from her and standing up "Let's take this to my bedroom shall we?" He takes her hand and leads her towards his room "Strip for me please baby" She flushes a deep red at his words and follows to his bedroom starting to remove articles of clothes as they move. "Good girl~" He opens the door and steps inside leaving her alone in the room "Come here" He gestures towards the bed where he lays out several ropes and various other items such as handcuffs and blindfolds "Now lie down on the bed and spread those beautiful thighs of yours wide open for me darling~" She gulps down her nerves and nods to him, removing the last of her clothing leaving her bare to her bosses piercing eyes, she lays down on his monochrome silk sheets and spreads her legs for him to invite him into her personal space.

"Mmhmm... You're looking very delicious right now aren't you sweetheart?" He smirks and moves between her legs, running his hands along her inner thigh before reaching up and grabbing hold of her wrists pinning them above her head "There we go~ Now let's see how much pleasure we can draw out of your pretty little body" He murmurs admiring her form, he suddenly looks to her face "You heard of the traffic light system sweetheart?" she smiles lightly at his wanting to make sure she's safe and comfortable during their encounter and nods her head "Yes green means go, yellow means I'm unsure but want to continue and red is stop immediately" "Good girl~ and your safe word?" he asks while trailing his fingers to her inner thighs teasinger her with his gentle touches she thinks for a moment before responding "Peaches" She nods and giggles softly. "Are you ready to start lovely?" He asks as he spreads her legs a little further she nods as the pulls him down to her lips giving him a firm kiss.

Chuuya starts his teasing by turning his head the the side peppering her thighs with small kisses, giving small nibbles and licks every few minutes "I've always thought you were incredibly beautiful you know and so dedicated to the PM... To me" a whine bubbles up to her lips at his teasing as she watches him between her thighs "I've always been so fond of you sir I'd never want to disappoint you" Chuuya chuckles softly and leans forward pressing another soft kiss against her inner thigh "Stop calling me sir my love or I'll have to punish you" He smirks at her before pulling back slightly looking into her eyes again "do you trust me?" he asks "Yes Chuuya I trust you... trust you with my life" She smiles at him he smiles back running his thumb along her cheek making her shiver "Good now tell me what are your thoughts on our relationship? Do you think we could be together? Before we start I'd like to know where we stand" He asks gently stroking her hair as he stares deeply into her eyes hoping that she'll accept his offer "I'm yours Chuuya, I've been yours since I was told I'd be working under you" She smiles at him as she lifts her hand to card her fingers through his hair and down his neck resting at his neck.

His heart skips a beat as he feels her touch "That's what I wanted to hear baby~" he whispers placing one last gentle kiss on her forehead before leaning in closer to whisper in her ear "Close your eyes my love" He smirks as he steps down from the bed to grab the supplies he needs she nods her head as she relaxes into his sheets "I trust you with my body" She softly closes her eyes, he uses some velvet covered cuffs to attach her arms to his headboard before moving down and attaching some cuffs to her ankles which spread her out for his eyes to explore. Next he starts to remove his clothes starting with his dress shirt then moving to his pants then his boxers to expose his already hard length to her watching eyes she lets out a needy whine as she pleads to him "I need you so badly Chuuya~"

He grins teasingly watching her squirm around beneath him "You're such an adorable thing aren't you? You look so cute tied up like this." He says playfully as he leans forward kissing along her collarbone trailing soft kisses down her chest until finally reaching her nipples which he takes between his teeth she gasps as she feels his teeth gently encase her hardened nipples sighing as he licks over the bud sucking softly before moving to the other side and paying just as much attention to her other breast "F-feels so nice Chuu~" He continues licking and nibbling all over her breasts enjoying every second of it before moving lower still stopping to tease her belly button with his tongue before continuing further south towards her core where he pauses briefly to lick and kiss her inner thighs before finally settling between her legs "So warm... So wet and I've barely started" He smirks up at her as she gently tugs at the cuffs wanting to grab his head and push him down to where she needs him most "Stop t-teasing Chuu I need you so badly~" His eyes sparkle mischievously as he sees her struggling against the restraints knowing exactly what she wants "Oh my dear little one if only you'd told me that sooner~" He teases before beginning to explore her folds with gentle caresses and light licks moaning softly at the taste of her juices, she gasps harshly and tips her head back "F-fuck Chuuya your tongue feels so good~" He smiles at the sounds he's pulling from her as he drives his head down to explore her pretty pussy further, he licks a stripe up the full length of her pussy collecting her wetness on his tongue before sliding his tongue around her sensitive clit.

She lets out a drawn out moan as he pleasures her, bucking her hips up to meet his tongue "Why didn't we do this sooner" She huffs out a laugh with her head still tipped backwards as he chuckles softly he moves away from her clit leaving behind trails of saliva which drips onto her soft skin "Well now let's see how well you can take it shall we?" He says teasingly while looking up at her seductively, he wraps his hand around his length giving it a few teasing strokes while she nods quickly as she watches his movements licking her lips at the sight of his pretty cock "Please give it to me Chuuya I need you inside me now" His smile widens into a wide grin as he slides himself between her thighs slowly pushing himself deep inside her tight walls causing her to gasp in pleasure "Oh yes baby, just relax for me okay? You're doing great." He whispers huskily as he begins to move within her slowly building up speed.

She pulls at her restraints again harder this time making her hiss slightly in pain and she bucks her hips up to try and match his steady thrusts "Fuck chuu~ you feel even better than I could have ever imagined, you're making me feel so full" He grins almost wickedly as he continues to pound into her hard and fast, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through both their bodies "You like that don't you? You love having my big fat dick buried deep inside you don't you?" He asks mockingly as he leans forward to kiss her lips passionately, licking his tongue into her mouth, she moans loudly into his mouth as she matches his eagerness in their kiss "Yesss~ I need your fat cock chuuya! Need you to make me cum on your cock~ I-I'm close" She gasps against his lips. He groans softly as he keeps pounding away at her relentlessly his rough thrusts shaking his headboard as it bangs loudly into his walls "Cum for me now babygirl!" He reaches his hand down between their sweaty bodies as he roughly rubs her abused clit feeling her tighten around him as he slams into her one final time burying himself fully inside her as she spasms around him, legs shaking as she cums causing him to groans harshly as he cums hard.

He chuckles darkly as he slides out of her leaving only the head of his member still inside her causing her to whimper slightly "Well done little one...but there's no rest for us yet." He says sternly as he grabs onto her thighs pulling them apart spreading her wide open exposing her pink soaked pussy to his eyes, her body shakes as she's coming down from her high "Fuck Chuuya my pussy can't take much more" She whines out as she watches him grinning at her as he starts slowly pushing inside her stretching her tight muscles around his girth "Mmmh..such a good girl... You're so fucking wet aren't you?" Y/N nods her head sharply "F-fuck yes! I'm your good girl! You've made me so fucking wet baby" She whines as he starts to fuck her harder, pushing her slowly into overstimulation as her tired walls tighten around his fat cock.

His grip on her thighs tighten as he begins thrusting into her faster and harder making sure not to let up even for a second letting out a low moan of pleasure as he feels her tightening around him "Ohhh yeah... That's right... Keep cumming for me darling... Cum for daddy.... Cum for daddy" He reaches one of his hands down to play with her little clit. She throws her head back harshly as she grips the edge of the cuffs, tearing falling down her cheeks as she cums causing her legs to shake against Chuuya, whining and sobbing as her body shakes with painful pleasure.

As soon as she cums he pulls out quickly slamming it deep again causing her to cry out in pain but also pleasure as he slams his thick member into her ah~ such a good girl.... My sweet girl... Ohh god..... Your pussy is so warm and tight...so so soft... And so delicious..." She sobs through moans as her throat becomes croaky from over use, her body heating up from his praise. He smirks at her before grabbing her hips firmly and pulling them towards him burying himself deeper inside her than ever before "Ohhhh yesssss... Take all of daddy's big dick... Take every inch of this monster... Mmmmphh..." His body shakes as his thrusts become shallow as he spurts out a few lines of cum before he pulls out watching the cum trickle out of her abused hole, her body shakes as she watches her partner cum again before she shakes her arms as the cuffs clink against his bed "A little help here?" She giggles at him as he huffs out a chuckle lifting his tired body to unclip her restraints, making sure he kisses all the marks that have been left behind "Sorry love, think I got a bit carried away at the end there" He pushes his sweat caked hair back as he joins her back in bed, pulling her close to his body.

She smiles brightly as she gently wraps her arms around him, leaving light kisses to his chest "That was... Intense" She laughs as she cuddles into his side, he chuckles softly as he nuzzles her neck lightly "Yeah, you were pretty amazing too baby right?" He winks playfully at her he gives her a slight peck on the tip of her nose "We should really clean you up my love" He sighs wistfully, she pouts at her lover but rolls her eyes slightly and nods "One last kiss first?" She smiles as she reaches her arms out to him, he nods happily as he leans down for another passionate kiss, their tongues dancing together until they break apart slowly and he makes his way over to his en suite where he grabs a few washclothes, wiping her down as gently as he can to avoid more abuse to her already fucked out hole.

Once he's done he smiles and throws the cloth away and looks at her with a smirk on his face "That was fun wasn't it?" Chuuya grins widely at her "Wanna go again?" He asks teasingly. Y/N looks up at him in mock alarm "Are you kidding me Chuuya I don't think I'll be able to walk for a week as it is! No way I'll be able to go to work tomorrow!" She laughs as she reaches her hands to wrap around his neck, his grin widens even further as he pulls her closer to him and starts kissing her deeply once more, this time going slower than before so he can savor every moment of their closeness "You're such an adorable little thing aren't you?" He whispers against her lips "Fuck I'm glad you wanted me as much as I wanted you, I'll make something up to to tell Mori tomorrow" He smirks as he looks into her eyes "You'd better it's your fault" She giggles as she playfully hits his chest softly before cuddling back into his side "I love you Chuuya Nakahara~" He chuckles lightly as he wraps his arm around her waist and holds her close to him "I love you too Y/N L/N" He kisses her forehead affectionately before pulling away slightly to look deep into her eyes watching as she yawns Chuuya looks at her and smiles "Stay here tonight baby and we will talk about us more tomorrow hmm?" The woman nods thankfully as she gives him one last kiss before settling into his bed with a smile, he watches her drift off to sleep and leans forward to give her another soft kiss on the cheek before turning off the lights and wrapping his arms around her to join her in sleep. Tomorrow can wait for a while he thinks as he basks in the love they've shared together.

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