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#Buried Eyes Hidden Lies
reiding-writing · 4 months
Note
since you are a person of angst, i was thinking about spencer x reader where in the heat of an argument, spencer says he will only forgive her when she dies.
so in one of the cases the reader is shot by spencer and sighs "now you can finally forgive me"
happy or sad ending, whatever you want
muah 💘
forgiven [ s.r ]
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Summary:
You lied to him with good intentions, but when he finds out the truth he says something detrimental in the heat of the moment. After weeks of radio silence any chance of reconciliation is almost lost after you get critically injured in the field.
WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR IAN DOYLE ARC, harsh arguments, death wishes, gun mentions, major character injury, details of gun related injury
pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader
genre: ANGST with a happy ending
wc: 3.7k
masterlist!!
a/n: left the ending up to majority vote and majority vote said happy ending, you guys are so boring /j
happy ending or not this is still nice and jam packed with angst for all my angst enjoyers <3
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Emily Prentiss had been buried for seven months.
So how on earth was she stood five feet away from Spencer with a half guilty expression on her face like she’d put salt in his coffee rather than the fact that she’d been in Paris, fully alive and well whilst he mourned her ‘death’ for months.
But he couldn’t be mad at her. Of course he couldn’t.
Instead his gaze turned towards the way Hotch, JJ, and you were stood at the head of the table, completely unfazed whilst the rest of the team stood in shock at the fact that the friend that they’d buried was still alive.
He couldn’t help that small feeling of loathing mixing with the shock when Emily pulled him into a hug, his arms loosely rested around her back as his eyes narrowed slightly in your direction.
He’d let you see him at his absolute worst, an emotional, crying, pathetic mess of a person who was desperately mourning over the loss of one of his closest friends.
And you’d let him. Whilst knowing that Emily was still alive.
His emotional state had gotten so bad over the last few months that you’d even temporarily moved him in with you to make sure he wasn’t endangering himself.
He’d spiralled into a state where he couldn’t be trusted to live on his own. And you’d let him.
He didn’t speak to you during your drive home that night, and you knew why.
You knew he was going to be angry at you, and you couldn’t blame him for it.
What you didn’t expect, was for him to immediately start unrooting himself from your apartment; Clearing out drawers and stuffing his clothes in the suitcase hidden in one of the cupboards.
“Spencer what are you doing-” You barely manage to step out of the way before Spencer walked right into you with an armful of books in his hands as he pulled them from the bookshelf in your living room.
He stacks them neatly in the corner of the open case laid on top of his bed as you stand in the doorway of your guest room turned Spencer’s bedroom, clear concern written all over your face.
“I’m going home.” Spencer’s reply is blunt, flat, with the tiniest amount of hurt lacing his tone if you were to listen closely enough.
“Spence-” You block his exit from the room with your body as he attempts to make a second trip to clear your shelves of his books. “Can we just take a second to talk about this?”
“About what? The fact that you lied to me for seven months?” He takes a step back from you as you block the doorway, looking you directly in the eyes to make sure that you could read every semblance of hurt, loathing, and betrayal that swam in his irises.
“The fact that I trusted you to the point where I let you see me at my lowest and you knew everything I was grieving over was a lie?” Spencer had given up trying to leave the room, clearing out anything left in the bedroom instead and zipping the suitcase shut.
“The fact that you let me spiral to the point where I was considering relapsing and couldn’t be trusted to live on my own?”
“Spencer-”
“I confided in you. I told you everything. All those nights I spent sobbing in your arms talking about how I just wanted the pain to stop and you left me in the dark.” He was borderline shouting at you by now, his eyes glassed over with tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks and a lump in his throat that rended his composure shattered.
“I wish I could’ve told you Spencer but I couldn’t-”
“You couldn’t?” Spencer cuts you off before you have the time to try and explain yourself. “Or you wouldn’t?”
“I couldn’t- Spence I wanted to tell you I really did but Emily’s life was in danger-” You try to explain yourself whilst he’s giving you the time to do so, words falling out of your mouth as fast as your brain will let them form. “I couldn’t say anything without risking breaking her cover and sending her right back into Doyle’s grasp..”
“What about my life?” Spencer’s voice cracked slightly as he looked at you, a light flush covering his face from his frustration. “I spent ten weeks under 24/7 supervision because my mental state was so bad-”
“You know me. You know I wouldn’t have said anything. And you let me ruin my own mental state anyway.” The end of his negation of your explanation is marked by the suitcases wheels hitting the wooden flooring.
“Look i’m sorry okay? I didn’t-”
“What? didn’t mean to let it go so far? Didn’t mean to let me consider relapsing and washing any progress i’d made over the last four years down the drain?” He pushes past you with considerable force to make his way towards the front door of your apartment with his suitcase in hand. “Well it’s too late for that isn’t it?”
“Spencer wait-” You grasp at his wrist in a moment of desperation, silently begging for him not to leave. “I’m sorry,”
“I’m so, so sorry and you have every right to be angry at me and I know that keeping it from you was wrong-” Your desperation shows through your voice, through the stray tear that rolls down your left cheek and pools under your chin. “Just- let’s talk about this, please,”
“We just did.” Spencer’s voice is much harsher than you’re used to, although he removes your hand from his wrist with a whisper of his usual gentle nature that you wish would take over the rest of his personality as he pulls your door open to leave.
“I was just trying to protect her-” Your voice hitches at the end of your sentence, stray tears turning into a steady flow that dapples your white shirt in damp circles. “..please forgive me…”
Your voice is hardly a whisper by the time you’re finished, although Spencer’s expression does not match the softness in your tone.
Nor does his response.
“I’ll forgive you when you’re six feet under like she was.”
“Spencer-”
You barely have time to be shocked by his words before the front door of your apartment is closed harshly in your face, Spencer’s presence replaced by the ghost of his cologne and a sharp coldness that runs its way up your spine.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
It’d been three weeks.
And aside from asking Morgan to keep an eye on him you hadn’t so much as mentioned Spencer once.
It was a little difficult considering his desk was directly opposite yours, but a mix of wanting to respect his personal space and still being hurt by his comment allows you to keep to yourself no matter how close he was.
You’re thankful that the team hasn’t said anything, but you’re sure they’ll only respect your privacy until it interferes with the case you’re working on.
Emily had tried to talk Spencer down from his underlying anger to no avail during the plane ride, and despite the countless times that Hotch had taken full responsibility for keeping Emily’s living status a secret, it didn’t stop Spencer from sending you half-glares across the station or refuting any suggestion you gave with an overcomplicated explanation of why you were wrong.
By the fourth day you were on the verge of snapping at him, the Texas heat melding with his snark and making you want to tear all of your skin from your face.
You definitely weren’t in the right mental state to enter an active shooter situation, but as you followed Morgan into the building with your 9mm planted firmly between your hands, all you could think about is the conversation you were going to force Spencer into having with you once all of this was over.
You were so tired of being in this stalemate with him, you just wanted your Spencer back.
The one who would trap you on your couch so he could explain the Doctor Who lore in explicit detail with that bright starry look in his eyes the longer you let him ramble.
It was just radio silence. And you couldn’t bare it anymore.
Your mind was clouded by your own thoughts as you swept the building, and you suppose you only have yourself to blame for not hearing the unfamiliar footsteps behind you until it’s too late.
You turn on your heels towards the noise, expecting it to be Morgan or even Spencer, finished with sweeping the floor and ready to move on.
Instead you’re met by a sharp bang that rings through your ears and a pain in your throat that makes your breath catch and your legs fail underneath you.
Your left hand comes straight to your throat, immediately coated in the dark red liquid escaping from the new hole created in your body, and you manage to fire a shot in the direction of your assailant as he runs, although whether you actually hit him or not you’re not sure.
It takes less than ten seconds for your team members to arrive at your side, and you desperately point in the direction that the UnSub had ran off in as you try and refrain from coughing up blood and in turn flooding your lungs.
Morgan and Emily share a look before running off in your pointed direction. Spencer however, ignores your arm completely and rushes to kneel at your side, dropping his gun on the floor in the process and frantically holding the radio button on his watch to yell out his need for medical services.
“You’re going to be fine- Everything’s going to be fine-” You can practically feel the panic emanating from his body, his hands trembling as he tugged his bullet proof vest from his chest to tear at the hem of his shirt and use it to block the bullet hole in your throat as your hand compression weakened with your blood loss.
You can tell he was trying to reassure you, but it didn’t sound all that convincing, even to himself.
His right hand added a copious amount of pressure to the front of your throat as he aided you into the recovery position, checking the nape of your neck for an exit wound. Nothing.
A soft “two minutes” echoes back through the radio speaker in his watch and though he tries to mutter it under his breath to not freak you out any further, you can hear his uncertain “that’s too long,” even through the tinnitus plaguing your ears.
You cough up the clotted chunks of oxidised blood stuck in your oesophagus onto the floor beneath you, and Spencer makes an effort to protect your head from the floor by elevating it on his thigh.
“You’re going to be fine-” Spencer sounds more panicked than you as his eyes blink with tears, unable to be wiped as they fall down his cheeks from the red staining against his fingers and the ever present pressure he’s adding to your injury.
“Does this mean you’re going to forgive me now?” You choke out the words alongside what could barely be considered a laugh as it leaves you hacking up more blood through your mouth, your attempt at lightening the mood falling on deaf ears as it sends Spencer into a fit of tears.
“I’m so sorry-” Spencer’s tears run hot against his cheeks, pooling at his chin and falling onto the ripped fabric of his shirt he was using to try and stop your throat from bleeding. “I’m so sorry for yelling at you and barging out and just being awful to you I’m sorry-”
The distinct sounds of sirens sound over Spencer’s profuse apology and you can see the relief flood his face as he hears them. “You hear that? You’re gonna be okay, they’re gonna get you to a hospital and you’re gonna be fine,”
He nodded determinedly at you, more like he’s trying to convince himself than convince you.
He neglected to tell you about the fact that gunshot wounds to the neck held a 78% mortality rate, or how when they obstruct major airways that number jumps to 92%.
It was fine. You would be fine.
He can hear the pounding footsteps of the medical team as they breach the building, yelling out in their direction with as much composure as he can muster.
He helped the medical team carefully position you on a stretcher so they could rush you into the ambulance, and he runs alongside you, giving the EMTs as much information as he can.
“They were shot by a 7.5mm two minutes and forty seconds ago, it breached their trachea but there’s no exit wound so it’s likely lodged in the back of their oesophagus-” Spencer speaks through heaved breaths as his body fights to take in oxygen over his will to help the EMTs treat you as quickly as possible, following them into the back of the ambulance.
“They’ve been conscious the whole time this far but I think they’re going through pulmonary edema and-”
“Spence-” Your voice is barely audible through your struggle to breathe, joined by the pressure on your throat as well as under your diaphragm as one of the EMTs checks for signs of your lungs being flooded. “Don’t backseat doctor-”
The fact that you’re still conscious enough to lightly chastise him makes Spencer feel a little less panicked, although removing a pebble from a mountain doesn’t affect its height.
By the time you reach the hospital, you’re unconscious but not yet critical, and he almost follows you right into the OR until he’s blocked from the door by one of the nurses and escorted into the waiting area.
“Well let you know the second anything changes Dr Reid,”
He nods hastily as he sits down, fiddling with his fingers and tapping his feet against the linoleum floors.
You weren’t critical yet, but that didn’t mean that you’d pull through. You had flooded lungs and a bullet lodged somewhere in the back of your throat that they were going to surgically remove.
If something went wrong, that was it.
Spencer spends the first thirty minutes mentally beating himself up.
Why did he lash out at you? You were only doing what you thought was best to protect Emily.
Why did he say he’d only forgive you if you died? You didn’t mean to cause him any harm.
Why was he constantly managing to ruin anything positive that was happening between the two of you?
Maybe he was cursed.
Cursed to live a life of eternal suffering as the perpetual cost for the gift of his intelligence.
He would give up every IQ point he had if it meant that you would recover with no complications.
He would sacrifice his eidetic memory in an instant if it meant he got to make new ones with you.
He’d give up everything that he was prided on as long as you were okay. You needed to be okay.
The next forty-five minutes was spent in an anxious silence. The team had rushed to the hospital as soon as they’d secured the UnSub’s incarceration, only amplifying the tension in the waiting area.
As the nurse calls out your name to the room, the team immediately stands to rush over, everyone silently praying that you’re okay.
“We’re glad to say that the surgery was a success,”
Those words are enough for the anxiety to dwindle in the group, a wave of relief overtaking it.
“They’ve had to have a temporary tracheotomy, and due to the placement of the bullet lodged between their vertebrae, a spinal excision, but both procedures progressed with no issues, meaning they should recover perfectly fine,”
Morgan and Emily share a audible sigh of relief, overshadowed by Spencer’s voice, less anxious but still filled with adrenaline. “Can I see them?”
“They’re currently under supervised care to make sure they don’t destabilise, but if you leave your mobile number we will contact you when they wake,” The nurse passes Spencer a small post it note and a biro pen from her clip board and he doesn’t hesitate to scribble his name and number down before handing them back.
“They’re strong, most patients don’t remain conscious for more than a minute or two after an injury like that,” The nurse takes the pen and post it from Spencer with a small smile. “I have full faith that they’ll recover perfectly fine,”
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Spencer extends his stay in Texas indefinitely.
The rest of the team had left for Quantico two days ago to file out all of the necessary paperwork for the case, with Spencer opting to remain in Texas until you were fit to fly home with him.
Home. He wonders if you’ll let him come home with you. To stay with you in your apartment again and live side by side with him once more.
Maybe he can convince you through your recovery; That patients recovering with spinal injuries need 24/7 attention just in case something happens.
Yeah. That sounded like a good idea.
Spencer’s plans for taking you home were interrupted by the shrill ring of his cellphone, the screen lighting up with an unknown number.
His heart rate increases as he picks the phone up from his hotel room’s coffee table, his hands trembling by the time he holds it up to his ear. “Hello?”
“McAllen County Hospital, am I speaking to Doctor Spencer Reid?”
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Spencer is in his rental car almost before he hangs up the phone, driving the speed limit as he tries to get to the hospital as soon as possible.
He runs what he’s going to say when he sees you over and over again in his head on the way there, but by the time he reaches your hospital room his mind goes completely blank, and he just stands in the door staring at you.
“Hello to you too,” Your voice is very clearly strained and raspy, still recovering from the emergency tracheotomy you’d been given during surgery.
The sound of your voice, as dry and strained as it is, immediately sends Spencer into a fit of tears, and he rushes to take a seat on the plastic chair beside your bed with the most upset, regretful expression you think you’ve ever seen. “I’m so sorry,”
“Spence…” You reach out your hand out from the hospital bed, laying it against his lower thigh and squeezing it lightly.
“I shouldn’t have lashed out at you I know you were doing what’s right and I didn’t mean what I said I don’t want you to die I promise-” He takes in a sharp breath through his nose once he’s finished his ramble, and you wait a few seconds to make sure he’s actually finished before speaking yourself.
“You’re fine Spence…” Your hand trails up to grasp at his own, intertwining your fingers with his and giving them a small squeeze. “You had every right to be angry,”
Spencer shakes his head adamantly at you. “No, i’m sorry. What I said was wrong and you didn’t deserve that,”
Spencer exhales softly through his nose, his voice wavering and his hands trembling against your own. “Can you forgive me..?”
You question whether to make a joke about whether he’s close to dying or not, but opt out of it considering his fragile emotional state.
“How about we both forgive each other and call it even?” You let out a small chuckle at the end of your question, turning into more of a cough as it dries out your throat, and Spencer grabs the glass of water left on your bedside table with his free hand.
He holds it up to let you drink from it rather than unlinking your hands to let you hold the cup yourself, placing the styrofoam back down once you’re finished.
You give him a mildly embarrassed smile that he returns with one of his own, leaning forward to gently rest his forehead against yours.
If you weren’t recovering from a spinal surgery he would’ve had you in a bone crushing hug by now, but holding your hand and leaning his forehead to yours would suffice for now.
“Forgiven?” You allow your eyes to flutter closed at the soft contact, exhaling slowly through your nose.
“Forgiven…”
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kihyunsflavor · 18 days
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Cross my heart part 1
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next chapter ↪︎
Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x f!reader
Summary: When Paul Atreides is killed by Feyd-Rautha, the only hope for the Bene Gesserit plan lies with Feyd. As the eldest daughter of the emperor, your father promises you to the na-Baron to forge an alliance between your two houses. However, this turn of events is not to your liking, and you harbor little fondness for him.
Warnings: arranged marriage, sexual tension (smut in next chapter), mentions of violence and blood, pet names, size kink, enemies to lovers trope (?)
Authors note: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes. Also let's imagine Margot Fenring did not visit Feyd on his birthday. 
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Horror plays on her face when her lover falls to the ground. Blade buried deep in his chest, where his heart was beating only seconds ago. There is no scream from her, she is quiet as the tears fall. Soon the room is filled with loud gasps and cries. You watch her break down on her knees. Now her lover was dead and the Fremen had lost. 
From the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of your father's face. There's a subtle hint of relief, a fleeting expression that only you can discern. Meanwhile, Feyd-Rautha turns around, a broad grin stretching across his lips. "Is this your Lissan al-Gaib? The Mahdi?" he mocks the Fremen gathered in the hall.
But in that moment, the Emperor and the na-Baron were invisible to them. All attention was focused on the fallen messiah as they swarm around the body. It doesn't take long for the left over armies to come and escort you to safety. Feyd trailed closely behind, a constant amusement playing on his features.
Your father's fury is evident; his clenched fist betrays his agitation. Yet this time, you won and destroyed the upcoming force from Arrakis. You tried to match his steps, but he was eager to leave this planet. You look back once, only to see her again. You didn't. She was hidden by the crowd. Instead, your eyes meet Feyd's. He had been walking closely behind you. "Don't worry, princess." Is all he says. You turn your face away, but he falls into step right by your side.
There is a ship, that will escort you back home. Feyd stayed alongside you and your father until your departure. "For now, I will return to Kaitain. But we will come back and slaughter them all." The emperor declared. Feyd Rautha nodded solemnly. He had dropped to one knee in front of your father. "You will stay here to oversee the spice harvest." There was a long silence. You noticed how your father exchanged meaningful glances with the revered mother Gaius Helen Mohiam. The silent communication left you puzzled, unaware of its significance.
Suddenly, your father rose from his chair. "And I will give you my eldest daughter." 
A cold shudder went down your spine as you heard his words. You stared at his side profile, hoping this was a misunderstanding, but the revered mother came into your sight. You understood why it had been done, you remembered the words from her. Feyd was yet another prospect for the Bene Gesserit. When your eyes fell on the Harkonnen, he smirked up at you. 
"I will not leave with you, will I?" You asked, as the na-Baron had left the room. "You will. He won't claim you until he has proven himself." Your father affirmed. He referrered to the need for the spice harvest to resume successfully.
"He will come to Kaitian when the time is right." 
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When you arrived on your homeplanet, the emperor dissappeared immediately. He was busy tending to the Fremen rebellion. The news of Paul Atreides getting killed by Feyd Rautha spread rapidly. The other houses remained firmly aligned with the emperor, since Paul had attempted to disrupt the spice harvest. Now there was no hope, no Lissan al-Gaib, for the Fremen. No one, who would bring them to Paradise as the prophecy had been told. However, Paul had not been the awaited Kwisatz Haderach, the Bene Gesserit had anticipated. Few knew, but the hope now rested upon your future husband.
Over the past few months, reports were sent to your father. They arrived from Arrakis, each carrying Feyd's signature. He described the spice harvest as successfull and on the best way to reach big numbers again.
As your father reviewed the latest missive, his expression grew pensive. "He seems to exceed the expectations. The baron sent a report himself." The emperor said, while leaning over his table. You nodded approvingly, your heart racing at the mention of Feyd's name. "Will he come soon?" Your father frowned at your question, fully lost in his thoughts.
"My daughter, I think I need to send you away." Your eyes widened, but his remained fixed on the scroll. "You will go to Giedi Prime. Solidify our alliance with House Harkonnen, familiarize yourself with the Baron and find out his political plans. The wedding will take place on Kaitain in due time." You listened well, while he explained. "Will Feyd-Rautha also be on Giedi Prime?" The thought of facing the Baron alone on this dark planet made you shudder. It was a nightmare. "Yes."
Before the month´s end, you yourself send a letter to the na-Baron. It was a request form your father, advised by the revered mother. Every word was carefully written by yourself with your name prominently displayed beneath the message. It was not a long letter. You informed him about your upcoming trip to Giedi Prime to meet his uncle, the Baron. And suggesting that he should join you as well. It was not a plead, but like a beckoning call to him. Of course you had to charm him first. In the future he would either listen to you willingly or you would resort to manipulation. Feyd Rautha was known for his ambitious and ruthless character, willing to do whatever it took to achieve his own goals.
Oh how it angered you to travel to this unpleasant planet - but you were hiding your feelings from everyone. It was a duty you had to fulfill. Showcasing the amicable relations between the two houses was important.
The ship was prepared at the start of the next month, laden with various garments, jewelry, shoes, and other essentials. The dresses, in particular, were meticulously crafted for this trip, symbolizing the prestige and authority of House Corrino. A few servants and a Bene Gesserit sister accompanied you.
The journey was short and soon you found yourself descending into the atmosphere of Giedi Prime. Sitting composedly in your chair, you awaited the ship's landing. A scroll was clutched in your hand, an unfamiliar excitement stirred in your stomach. You read the single line repeatedly. "As you wish, my princess." While technically you couldn't hear him say it, in your mind, it was as if he were speaking directly to you.
He was a very intelligent man, with a mind sharp like a knife, yet charming and handsome at the same time. He effortlessly commanded attention wherever he went. Despite this, you wished you could avoid marrying him. While he ignited unfamiliar passions within you, you were certain they were nothing more than fleeting fantasies. There was excitement, but you couldn't shake the feeling that he wouldn't hesitate to cause you harm. Maybe with time, you'd figure him out better.
As the ship landed, there was no time left to dwell on these thoughts. Stepping out onto Giedi Prime, a servant handed you your long coat, its once vibrant color now subdued by the planet's dim light. The Baron awaited your arrival, surrounded by a crowd gathered to greet you. It was to be a grand entrance, fitting for the daughter of the emperor.
With confidence, you made your way to the Baron, your eyes catching Feyd standing beside his uncle. A smirk played on his lips, betraying his excitement to see you. In that moment, you felt a sense of relief that he was here.
"Welcome to Giedi Prime, Princess. It's an honor to have the daughter of the Emperor grace our humble planet with her presence. I trust your journey was pleasant?" The Baron's words brought your attention back to the present, as he bowed before you, followed by his nephews.
"Thank you, Baron. The journey was indeed smooth," you replied politely. As the three men straightened up, Feyd stepped forward and gently kissed the back of your hand. First, you wanted to pull away, but his touch was surprisingly soft, and you allowed him to continue. After all, it was a well-mannered gesture.
"I was waiting for you, my princess," he whispered slyly, his words dripping with charm. There was a palpable tension building between the two of you, and despite yourself, you found him captivating. Your mind wandered back to the Fremen girl you came across on Arrakis, the one who had lost her beloved. In her eyes, there had been an unmistakable depth of love and dedication. You couldn't help but envy her, for she had someone to fight for, someone to live for. You were never going to experience that.
As you were led through the castle, the architecture and decor caught your attention, though not in a favorable way. Everything seemed dark and robust, with a metallic, cold feeling permeating every corner. The building reflected the characteristics of the residents of Giedi Prime, with their porcelain-white features and hairless appearance. You couldn't help but feel relieved that the wedding would take place on Kaitain, away from this grim atmosphere.
A room was shown to you by Feyd Rautha himself. It was an uncomfortable walk. Conflicting emotions churned in your stomach, leaving you uncertain of how to act. There was only one topic you both could talk about. "I heard the spice harvest is going well," you ventured, breaking the awkward silence. Feyd, who had been walking slightly ahead, slowed his pace and turned to look at you. "Yes, my princess. The Fremen haven't been attacking our spice harvesters. They have withdrawn almost entirely." You acknowledged his response with a subtle nod. "That's great."
Suddenly, Feyd stopped, causing you to pause in confusion. The servants trailing behind also halted. "Is it?" Feyd's smirked, as he turned his body to face you directly, now standing pretty close to you. "Well, why wouldn't it be?" you replied, perplexed by his demeanor. "You know what I mean by that, my little princess," he said, his hand reaching up to caress your cheek. You allowed the touch, still unsure of his intentions. Seeing your confusion, he smiled, showing his black teeth. "My dear, you know what your father told me. If the spice harvest was doing well, I could make you mine." He leaned in, now towering over you. "And if I understood correctly, you're looking forward to our union?" It was as if a switch had been flipped in your mind. Your praise for his work could easily be misunderstood as eagerness to marry Feyd.
You took a step backwards to create more distance between you. Feyd let his hand drop to his side, his smile remaining in place. "I see what you mean now. Perhaps it could be interpreted that way, but it wasn't my intention. I was simply acknowledging the work that had been done on Arrakis." You said.
Feyd appeared disappointed by your response, his eyes betraying his displeasure at your lack of reciprocation. But first, he would have to work to earn your attention. While he may have proven himself to your father, it didn't mean you were now at his feet. You would make it especially challenging for him.
He escorted you to your chambers without uttering another word. "Good night, Princess." His tone was cold and desinteressed. You stood in the door frame, contemplating wether to say something, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. "My Lord." You interjected at the last moment. Feyd paused abruptly, turning to face you. "Thank you for heeding my request and returning to Giedi Prime." You offered him a little smile, before closing the door behind you.
It was all just manipulation, to wrap him around your finger and keep him under your influence. He was thrilled to marry you anyways. Though love and affection were foreign to Feyd Rautha, his sexual desire was his weakness.
next chapter ↪︎
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suashii · 1 year
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୨♡୧ YOU TURN ME ON LIKE A LIGHT SWITCH — things you do that unintentionally turn them on.
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featuring. itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro, michael kaiser.
warnings. f!reader, established relationships, fingering, breast play, oral (m!receiving), a little bit of subby kaiser. all characters written 18+.
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₊˚ପ⊹ ITOSHI RIN
waking up without you in bed is a rare occurrence for rin. it's normal for him to rise before you and your absence would have worried him if it weren't for the noise coming from the kitchen. he tosses the comforter aside, swinging his legs over the mattress before pulling a pair of sweats out from his dresser. after the elastic is tied neatly, he starts toward the kitchen where he's sure he'll find you.
sure enough, the refrigerator is open and most of your figure is hidden behind the door. the sound of his approaching footsteps makes your head turn. you greet him with a smile. "good morning, rin."
"morning," he returns.
"want some coffee?" you ask, closing the door of the fridge with your hip. the action warrants rin a good view of you. to his surprise, you're wearing his dress shirt from last night. only a few buttons in are clasped in the middle, leaving your collarbone and the top of your chest on display. the shirt just barely covers your ass and he can see a peek of your pink, lacey panties beneath the garment.
"earth to rin. coffee?" you ask with a laugh, sparing him a glance from your place in front of the counter. you can tell his mind is elsewhere when he still fails to respond and, instead, walks over to stand behind you. your task becomes much more difficult when his arms wrap around you, lithe fingers dropping to toy with the hem of your panties.
the cool feel of his fingers creeping between your legs makes you shiver and causes you to think of the night before when they were buried in your cunt and rubbing sweet circles against your clit. you don't remember how many times he had you come undone on just his fingers before he pulled out his cock. you abruptly clear your throat in a weak attempt to concentrate on the topic at hand. "still waiting for an answer, rin."
he hums against your neck, pressing himself closer to you, effectively trapping you between the counter and his body. it's impossible to ignore the feel of his erection against your ass and any intention you have to focus on breakfast is out the window. "coffee can wait, i want you now."
₊˚ପ⊹ SHIDOU RYUSEI
steam seeps from the bathroom as you open the door, soft hums filling the silence of your shared bedroom while you grab the bottle of lotion from your vanity. a dip at the end of the mattress draws shidou's magenta eyes up from his phone, to your mostly naked figure. other than the short, fluff towel wrapped around your torso, the expanse of your skin is on display.
that much catches his attention but the water dripping down from wet hair is what keeps it. small drops of moisture roll down your neck and over the top of your breasts before soaking into the fabric of the towel. it makes shidou imagine what lies beneath the cloth, makes him wonder if your nipples are hard and what they'd feel like between his fingers. the thoughts make the blood rush down to his dick, a smirk curling the corners of his lips upward.
you're smoothing lotion on your legs when he meets you at the edge of the bed. there's a look in his eyes that screams no good but you try to pay him no mind, rubbing the moisturizer into your skin. though, it's difficult to ignore him when his arms wrap around your waist and his lips latch onto your neck.
you lightheartedly attempt to swat him away but your efforts go unnoticed as your boyfriend continues to leave a trail of kisses up your pulse. a large hand comes up from your midsection to paw at your tits.
"ryusei." his name is meant to come out firmly but your voice is a lot more breathy than it was supposed to be. you clear your throat before continuing. "cut it out, i just showered."
"i'll make it quick," shidou breathes against your skin. it makes the hairs on the back of your neck raise and chips away at your resolve. you can feel his smile against you as he speaks his next words. "and i'll even pull out."
₊˚ପ⊹ NAGI SEISHIRO
it never takes long for nagi to get ready and he's usually able to waste time on his phone while you finish putting yourself together. though, today, his phone sits on the bedside table hooked up to the charger and a cloud boredom lingers over the snowy-haired man's head. with a sigh he turns from his spot on the bed so that he's facing where you're sat at your vanity. quietly watching you should make the time go by faster.
he isn't particularly knowledgeable about makeup, but he silently follows each of your movements, watches you pat what he thinks is blush onto your cheeks and paint your eyelashes with mascara. he doesn't think much of it, that is, until you get to your lips.
his own part as you glide the applicator along the plump of yours, leaving a shiny gloss in its wake. it reminds him of the way your lips look when they're smeared with his precum only moments before you take his aching cock in your mouth.
the thought alone makes his pants feel tighter. it makes him wish the two of you were doing something else right now—that your lips were sticky with something that wasn't lipgloss. he wants to feel the warmth of your mouth around him, feel your tongue trace over each raised vein.
you catch sight of nagi's blank stare in the reflection of your mirror. returning the brush back to its tube, you rub your lips together before asking, "penny for your thoughts?"
"what?" he blinks?
"you're staring, sei," you tell him, meeting his eye in the mirror. "does my makeup look bad? is it too much?"
"no," he clears his throat, "it's pretty."
you hum and nod, eyes falling yo where his hand not-so-discreetly adjusts his pants. the bulge pressing against the cotton is hard to miss. you grin, spinning around on your stool to face him. "want me to handle that before we leave?"
₊˚ପ⊹ MICHAEL KAISER
kaiser isn't so easily distracted, especially not when he's on the field—even if it is merely for practice. though, staying focused has become more difficult since you joined the team as an athletic trainer. your presence on the field has exposed a new side of you, one that michael hasn't had the pleasure of seeing before but can certainly get used to.
he's supposed to be running drills now but his eyes keep drifting back to your figure on the sidelines. he can't hear your conversation well, not unless he happens to be passing by, but from the bits he can gather, you're not happy. gone is the honeyed voice he's grown used to. it's replaced by one that's much more firm and demanding, one that would tell anyone you mean business.
you yelling isn't all that catches his attention—your stance does, too. your arms are crossed against your chest, feet firmly planted in the grass. even though you're looking up at the man, you carry yourself as though it's the other way around. no wonder his teammate on the receiving end of your lecturing looks so uneasy.
the thought of being in his poor teammates shoes make the blood rush to kaiser's cock. he can't put his finger on why, but just imagining being at your mercy is enough to divert his attention from what he's meant to be doing.
the moment you send the man away, kaiser is rushing over to you, hopeful that some of your frustration from the interaction is lingering. he knows how adamant you are about keeping your personal and work life separate, so, in an attempt to be sure that you're still a little annoyed, he approaches you from behind, wrapping you in a loose hug. "damn, you're sexy when you're angry."
"not the time or place, kaiser," you grumble.
something about you giving him the cold shoulder turns him on even more. there's no way he's going to be able to make it through practice in this state, not when the only thing he can think about is being beneath you.
"come on, no one will mind if we step away for a bit." a grin pulls at his lips with his next words. "maybe i can help you blow off some steam."
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thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎
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tflaw · 2 years
Text
— PUSSY P♡WER.
They only have one goal before you leave Sumeru for another land, and that is to satiate their fantasies about your cunt.
꒰ა ❤︎ ໒꒱ . . . afab!reader. tease!reader. traveler!reader not pertaining to the twins in game. i got a biiit carried away with cyno’s part (i mean, it’s cyno my number one slut). nonetheless, please enjoy!
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CYNO + lots of cum, undertones of perv!cyno, unprotected.
cyno is unfamiliar with defeat in all aspects of life. in sumeru, everyone with ears and eyes knows that whatever the general mahamatra wants, the general mahamatra gets. or in this case, you: the traveler from another land. that being said, none could gauge his discontent upon having his persuasions denied every time.
“i can give you anything: money, power, influence. just name it.” his lilt unmasked his dwindling patience. after all, as general mahamatra, it is not a walk in the park to leave his base for a journey to the rainforest. coming home defeated each time calls for desperate measures indeed.
such a wily thing you are, adroit in pushing back after cultivating make-believe for cyno to relish in. it’s always hidden in your smile, followed by an innocent “general, you wish to fuck me that badly?”
to which, he’d answer, “yes. hard and preferably in my bed. but as you are now, stubborn and unbent, say yes and i wouldn’t mind anywhere.”
he awaits the laugh that is certain to follow, a sound that peels off at his sanity, all while tempting his cock to spring out of its restraints, but none echoed. instead, he finds himself inside an inn, with your naked body and wet cunt spread out in the creaky bed. at long fucking last.
sumeru is home to breathtaking panoramas. but in cyno’s opinion, no vista could ever vie with how your arousal coats the plumped lips of your cunt, waiting to be fucked hard. or how gorgeous you look in all fours, back smoothly curving to present yourself to him.
and when he finally, finally pops his cock into your pulsing walls, his breath hitches at the sensation. proving the fantasies he has painted about you all while maintaining the surprise, your cunt is indeed warm, wet, and perfect. it’s loud, too— producing a sucking noise every time cyno picks up his pace, burying himself in you until the white ring around his girth dribbles down his heavy balls.
you clamp around him and his eyes roll back to his skull. his cocktip kisses your spot and he drools at the feeling. the cycle of pulling and pushing and endless huff of jagged breathing tips him over the edge. until he’s coming loads straight into your insides. cyno overstimulates himself until his shoulders begin to jitter, pistoling his rawed-out cock to give you every drop of his thick and hot cum. in hopes that you’ll never forget what it feels like.
AL-HAITHAM + might be ooc, spare me this man is hard to write. undertones of yandere. big balled and big brained al-haitham. you walk in on him touching himself.
as someone in possession of knowledge that remains shrouded in most people’s cognizance, al-haitham has mastered the art of deceit easier than anyone with a functioning brain in sumeru. deceit that he equips as white lies, all in order to fall in your good graces. or if he is to be candid, to get under your pants.
he particularly roisters in hearing about your curiosities merely to obscure his answers and lead you astray from what you seek. a calculated effort that will establish the day you’d come for his help again, therefore nailing your attention to him and no one else. and as expected from an outlander strange to the land of dendro, you seem oblivious to al-haitham’s advances.
which he finds remarkably endearing, for if there exists an image that could shake his carnal desires awake, it is the manner of how you look at him: doe-eyed, awaiting the answers to your inquiries to slip past his lips.
you are a tight knot in his chest, pressing down on his stomach and between his legs. the product of his salacity, you take away any crumbs of reason and logic from him each night as he pumps himself with big hands. until there are drops of cum on his floor, and his cock falls limp to his stomach once he lays back panting on his bed.
that is until one particular day when his lust has overcome all rational thoughts. al-haitham ends up behind crates in an abandoned room in port ormos, sweating bullets while fucking himself greedily. it was meant to be a quick release, propelled by his growing need to fuck you. never had he foreseen that you’d be following his trail, therefore catching him abusing his cock while panting your name.
“i… allow me to explain,” he mutters in haste, grappling for the waistband of his breaches to hide his swelling cock. “it’s not… i have not any intentions—”
“do you need my help?” you offer. he blinks at you, and you blink back innocently. “we cannot leave you in that painful state, can we?”
no, you can’t. but al-haitham, even after the first time he came inside you, has not found the satisfaction he quests after. what was supposed to be a quick fuck ended up with him fucking you in a few different positions inside the dim room. nevermind the cobwebs or the dust, al-haitham has only one thing in mind, and that is to pump you full with cum it’s the only thing you’d be thinking about once you depart from sumeru.
TIGHNARI + perv!tighnari. oral sex (reader receiving). voyeurism.
being a scholar equates to having the freedom of committing deeds that would’ve been questionable in someone else’s eyes. and in his lifetime, tighnari surely has done quite a few things that are considered eccentric from a standpoint of a bystander. he is not apologetic, not one bit. after all, nothing is prohibited for the sake of knowledge.
however, this particular curiosity rallied by the arrival of a certain outlander has the young scholar pondering about what’s considered moral and not. and yet his nature’s heightened instincts galloped faster than his ability to provide himself an answer.
it’s your scent, tighnari thinks. the overwhelming whiff of something addictive. something that he’d search for in the morning, or follow in the middle of the night. your scent provides him a certain heat, which travels from his nape down his spine. and with that scent, tighnari learns how to pleasure himself again. yet, it barely filled the desire seeping in his bones whenever you’d look his way or touch his skin accidentally.
he has been consumed by the thought before he could formalize a way to free himself from it: tighnari wants to eat your cunt and fuck you right after. all this he has kept to himself for weeks until one fateful night.
he knows that your body has been shaped to the point of perfection, he knows it. but nothing prepared him to see you with no clothes while you pistol two fingers in your cunt with so much enthusiasm. and perhaps he has moved from where he stands gelid or breathed a little too loud from where he hides, for the next thing he knows, your eyes are on his.
tighnari counts the seconds, telling himself that once it reaches five, you’d be covering yourself in mortification. imagine his surprise when you widen your legs and rub your clit while tugging at your nipple.
he wants to break here and there. take his cock out and shoot a fat load to the ground. what he ended up doing was kneeling before you in silent agreement. his lips buzz against your cunt as he enthusiastically feasts between your legs. he loves it, so much that he feels his cock leaking with every suck and lick of his tongue. when you arch your back and cried out into the night, tighnari’s balls tighten. even without touching himself, thick globules squirt from his throbbing slit. he realizes, then: your scent is unique because it comes from between your legs. and that night, tighnari drowned in it.
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💭 reblogs && feedback appreciated !
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almonds-nsfw-world · 29 days
Text
You're so perfect - Dan Heng
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.ೃ࿐𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : ̗̀➛ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈
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-‘๑’- summary -- Dan Heng having a wet dream about fucking you hard and making you his, how hot was this dream?
-‘๑’- pairing -- Dan Heng x gn! reader
-‘๑’- status -- friendship/ acquaintances (hidden feelings)
-‘๑’- situation -- shy Dan Heng, virgin! Dan Heng, aftermath of the dream, virgin stamina, inexperienced fucking
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He felt your wet, spongey walls contract around his throbbing cock as his nails dug into the sheet of the bed beside your head while keeping you caged between his arms. His sweat was dribbling down his pale skin and his black locks of hair soaking from the way he fucked your tight, sweet hole without mercy. His grunts and whimpers filled your ears with every thrust he made, feeling how deliciously you were wrapped around him.
"Dan Heng!", he heard you gasp out his name and arch your back from the way the tip of his cock kept on slamming against that sensitive spot that made your muscles tense and tremble from the overwhelmingly sense of pleasure, "p-please...I can't take much more!"
"Yes you can, I'm close, I'm so close", he growled out, brushing your hair away from your forehead as he ruts into you in a speed that left you both breathless and your stomachs clenching from the hot passion that drove you both. The thought of filling you up in his cum...his essence made him sweep down into a frenzy for the need to splatter your walls in white.
"Fuck!", he rasped out, hearing you moan his name like an ancient prayer while he felt his balls tighten and constrict as well as the growing tightness of your walls, signalling your release again. But he didn't want this to end so soon...not since he has you wrapped around him so nicely and your legs around his slender waist.
The way your nails slid down his back made him groan out and bury his head into the crook of his neck, feeling his balls slapping your ass as he bit down onto your skin - until he felt your juices down his shaft and heard his name spilling from your lips.
The sound alone made him curse to all that lies beyond, making his hips stutter and for his fingers to clench around the sheets. His cum painted your walls white, feeling the warmth that comforted you while you tried to catch your breath.
His stomach clenched, his essence filling you like never before.
Whether you were breedable or not - did not matter. He could do this forever, he told himself. Fuck, let him do this forever.
"Shit", he rasped out, placing his forehead against your own and cupping your cheek gently, "you're so perfect, I cannot even explain how I feel." He felt your fingers dance along his collarbone as you pressed your lips against his own, "Neither can I", you whispered back those sweet words that made him shiver.
"..."
"...Dan Heng, I swear if you don't wake up this minute we're coming in!", the sound of March 7th's voice suddenly echoed through his ears, causing him to tear his eyes away from your own towards the door with a frown and confusion filling his eyes, "Huh?"
"Dan Heng! We're coming in!", March 7th pushed open the door to...his room - if you could even call it that, making him sit upright and feel the sweat of his dream slither down his skin into the warmth of his sleepwear as he caught his breath, rubbing his eyes in hopes to gather his mind from the...sensations he felt - until he saw you standing at the door with a worried look across your face, "You weren't answering when we knocked...are you alright?"
His eyes could only widen, using his blanket to cover his lower half properly so you and March couldn't see the throbbing neediness that laid hard and ready between his legs. His eyes could only harden as he cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact, "I had a nightmare. That's all."
His cheeks flushed.
You couldn't help but want to reach forward and console him - until March squinted her eyes at his...flustered state, stopping you from doing so.
She blinked, feeling her lips part in sudden realisation before she grabbed you by the arm and began to pull you out of his room with an awkward laugh, "L-Lets just...uhm, we'll wait for you outside!" Dan Heng's eyes widened, "March! Wait!"
The door shut, leaving him to bury his head into his hands with a groan, "...fuck." He could only hope she wouldn't.
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©2024 almond, do not steal, use or repost elsewhere.
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bahrtofane · 2 months
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just your luck to have your favorite study spot taken, even if he’s cute, you’ve decided you’re enemies now. jude thinks other wise
word cout - 800+
watch it - puff fluff and silliness
-----
5.43 pm, 4th floor library. partly cloudy but pleasant early october day. not cold enough just yet for snow but chilly enough for cute sweaters. 
halloween is just around the corner, then thanksgiving. winter break is so close ! life is good. great even. smooth sailing. you have a celebratory donut from the cafe downstairs in one hand, and chai in the other. a little treat for the exam you just finished. 
you hum a song aimlessly under your breath as you maneuver around students and staff to get to your place. 
it’s a hidden jem. up on the top floor, allll the way back in the farthest left corner lies a tiny nook with a bean bag that overlooks campus in the prettiest way. Large triangle window with tiny little details in its fixtures.  it’s quiet, calm, and you actually get work done there. 
no ever comes up and it’s peace between the hectic campus life and extreme party culture. you're thinking of maybe just getting comfy and watching a movie today. a blanket would be nice, you could bring one next time, that one that-
your train of thought is derailed faster than it can recover.
your safe haven has been invaded.
there’s a man ! in your spot !! uhg. 
you can't believe it after almost half a semester of serenity the one thing you had is ripped away from you. mid chai, donut and all. the cruelty of the world has never seemed more apparent. you are reminded again that as soon as you can get comfortable, your ripped away and thrown back to reality. 
are you being dramatic ? yes. do you care ? no
the audacity of some people. 
you know logically this isn’t your spot. it’s in the public library where any student can sit and it’s good to share, morals are good. but holy fuck do you hope the guy who’s all cozied up has a fantastic time and maybe trips out the window. 
you resort to having to use a table like some commoner. 
——-
day 2, 4:30 pm. 4th floor. this time, you're sure everything was just a fluke and you’ll be back in business in no time. comfy cozy spot with pretty window. 
your inner peace gets squashed as yet again, your spot is being occupied. this time you need to look into the eyes of the criminal. 
you choose a seat facing the bean bag and set up shop to judge and send him bad vibes. 
unexpectedly, he’s pretty cute even from far away. handsome even. he’s got one of those faces people remember, his features sit so nice and the way he’s basically burying his face into a text book is a little cute you won’t lie. but this doesn’t change anything. 
he’s your enemy. regardless if he’s aware of it or not. 
you soon tune him about in favor of getting work done, but don’t miss the occasional glaces he gives you. 
how interesting. 
——-
your friends tell you this is the start of some enemies to lovers after you fill them in. but you don’t agree. 
especially now that it's the 3rd time. 
you think he’s quite stupid. no amount of pretty smiles and shy glances is going to change the fact that he stole your special once secret library spot. he’s ruined your life ! this is the third time he’s done so. there’s no way you're going to forgive this behavior. 
never mind you don’t know his name or the fact that you’ll most likely never talk to him. your rage runs deep, silent and personal. 
you hope his socks are wet for the next month. 
you might even start a diary just to be able to complain about him in a stupid amount of detail. whatever. 
you spend the next hour or so typing a little aggressively while hoping he bursts into flames or disappears. funny enough, while you take a little social media break, you look up to find him gone. it would be good riddance, expect for the fact that he appears in front of you not a moment later. 
“um, hi?” are the timid words that come from him. his voice does not match the face wow. 
though, he’s even more attractive up close. 
“hello? can i help you?” you try 
“yeah um, actually. i wanna apologize.” 
your left in awe. is he going to apologize for his thievery? is the criminal going to confess his guilt. is this the end of your rage. 
“ i know the bean bag is your spot because you come in at the same time i do and always use it. “
you narrow your eyes, “so you decided to take it because?”
he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, “um actually i just think you’re really cute and couldn’t think of another excuse to talk to you. my bad.”
“for the record i’m still very mad you took my spot. “ you sigh, not really though. You just like to be drammtic, but he eats it right up. cute.
he nods quickly. “understood. how about i take you out to make up for it ?”
you hum, “i’d like that. “
he smiles, “great. can i get your number to plan it out ?”
“mhm”
and with that your left with your spot now yours again. and a blooming possibility on the horizon. 
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waitimcomingtoo · 11 months
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Isn’t it Just So Pretty
Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader
Synopsis: you’re no longer sure of how much acting you’re doing when pretending to be in love with Peeta during the games
Masterlist
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After hearing the announcement that two victors can go home if they’re from the same district, Peeta was the one thing on your mind. You knew he must be alive since you hadn’t seen his picture in the sky yet. And if he was alive, he must be by a source of water. You rushed to the lake, not caring how much noise you were making, and looked everywhere. Suddenly, something grabbed your ankle.
“Here to finish me off, sweetheart?”
“Peeta!” You exclaimed in surprise, not caring who heard you. You helped dig him out of the mud and moss he had buried himself under before pulling him into a tight hug.
“Oh my God. Peeta. Peeta.” You breathed in relief as you stroked his muddy hair. You heard Peeta sigh happily in your ear and melted into your touch.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” You told him as you cupped his face to look at him.
“You have?” Peeta asked in skeptical surprise.
“Didn’t you hear the announcement? We could both go home.”
“So you came back for me?” A smile tugged at Peeta’s lips.
“Of course I did.” You shrugged like it was obvious. To you, it was. But to Peeta, it was never obvious that someone would take care of him.
“Oh.“ Peeta smiled shyly and nodded his head. “Well, thank you.”
“Of course. Now let’s get you cleaned up.”
You fully pulled Peeta out of the mud and gently dragged him towards the river. Once you were hidden behind some bushes, you assessed his wounds.
“What happened?” You asked once you saw the gash on Peeta’s leg.
“Cato’s sword. He was mad that I tricked him.”
“Tricked him? How?”
“I purposefully led him away from you after your dropped the tracker jacket nest on us. Once he figured it out, he got me.” Peeta explained. You looked at him with great sympathy that before returning your attention to his wound. It was bad, much worse than anything you had yourself. And the fact that it happened because he was trying to protect you made you feel even worse.
“Is it bad?” Peeta asked when you hadn’t said anything for a while.
“No.” You lied. “Does it hurt?”
“No.” He lied back. You looked into his eyes and shook your head a little.
“You’re lying.”
“So are you.” He replied. You felt your face heat in embarrassment and nodded again.
“We need to keep this clean. I’m gonna have to wash your clothes.” You changed the subject.
“Okay.” Peeta agreed. You helped him lean his head back and washed the mud out of his hair until it was blonde again. Once that was clean, you moved on to his clothes. You shyly looked into his eyes and he nodded his head, giving you permission to tug off his shirt. You washed it and left it out to dry on a rock before returning to Peeta. He looked so helpless lying there on the rock you had laid him down on. He looked so vulnerable and gentle, not posing a threat to anyone. He didn’t deserve to be here. No one did, but especially not Peeta. He was a lover and a baker. He shouldn’t be bleeding out on a rock. You knelt down beside Peeta and he looked up at you with his gentle, puppy dog eyes. He was completely at your mercy now and you both knew it.
“Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it.” Peeta said to break the silence. You felt your breath hitch in your throat from the unexpected sentiment and before you knew it, you were leaning in to kiss his cheek. Peeta’s face heated up under your lips and when you pulled away, he looked just as surprised as you were over what had happened.
“Um, I should probably finish washing your clothes.” You stumbled over your words a little and refused to look Peeta in the eyes. You undid his button and zipper and started to tug his pants down.
“Wait.” He gulped before you could pull his pants over his wound. You stopped and looked into his eyes, feeling the same anxiety he was.
“I’ll go slow, okay?”
“Okay. Please be careful.” He said in a whiny voice. You couldn’t help but smile a little and nodded your head.
“I will. I promise.”
You tugged Peeta’s pants the rest of the way off and got a full view of his wound for the first time. It was much worse than it had looked through the rip in his pants. You felt helpless as you stared at it, knowing there was not much you could do at this point.
“How bad is it?” Peeta asked you. You stared at his wound, unblinking, until you felt tears come to your eyes.
“Sweetheart?” He asked in a soft voice. You finally looked up at him just a tear rolled down your face.
“How about that kiss?” He mouthed, making you burst out laughing. You cupped his face and pulled him into a long kiss to keep him calm.
“It’s not that bad. You’ll be okay. I promise.” You told him once you pulled away.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I never do. I’m gonna go wash these. Stay here.”
“I don’t have much choice, but okay. I’ll wait here and keep the lookout.” Peeta replied, making you laugh. You were about to leave with his pants when you noticed the hem of his boxers. They were filthy, caked with mud, and definitely teaming with infection. You knew they had to be washed, but that would leave Peeta with nothing. Peeta followed your gaze and connected the dots.
“You need my boxers, don’t you?” He asked. You avoided eye contact as you slipped off your backpack and handed it to him.
“Here. You can cover yourself with this.”
“I don’t care if you see me.” He chuckled.
“Maybe you can take them off and I’ll just close my eyes?”
“Look, I know it’s awkward, but I can barely move. There’s no way I can get these off by myself.” Peeta admitted. You knew he was right, but you were not prepared to see a naked man for the first time. Peeta quickly remembered the star crossed lovers plot and cleared his throat.
“Plus, it’s not like you’ve never seen me naked before.” He followed up, looking into your eyes to signal you to play along.
“Right.” You quickly nodded. You got Peeta’s boxers off as quickly as you could with as little eye contact as possible and ran away with them once they were off. You washed them and left them out to dry, giving him your jacket to cover himself in the mean time. Once his clothes were dry enough, you carefully dressed him. You then applied leaves to his wound the way Rue had taught you.
“Okay. We’re in good shape. But I want to get you somewhere less open. This is the biggest water source so the Careers could be back any day now.”
“How are we gonna move? I can’t walk.” Peeta reminded you.
“It’s okay. I’ll carry you.” You shrugged. Peeta laughed a little and held up his arms like a toddler. You gently pulled him off the ground and scooped him up so that you could carry him. He was pretty light since he hadn’t been eating and you had gained some muscle while training for the games. You carried Peeta through the woods as quietly as possible.
“I bet all the people in 12 are laughing at us.” Peeta said after a minute, making you laugh.
“Yeah? How come?”
“Because you’re the big strong hero and I’m the damsel in distress that needs to be carried.”
“Who cares what they think? We’re doing what we have to do to survive.” You shrugged and continued walking. Peeta went quiet for a minute as he thought back to the kiss you’d shared a few hours ago. It was real to him, but he didn’t know what it meant for you.
“Right.” He said after a beat of silence. You could tell something was on his mind but decided not to push it. Instead, you carried him to a nearby cave and gently laid him down inside. You let Peeta rest while you covered the entrance of the cave with leaves to keep yourselves hidden. You then returned to Peeta’s side and brushed the hair off his forehead.
“Are you comfortable?”
“As comfortable as I could be in this situation.” Peeta said through a strained laugh.
“Then we should get some sleep.” You suggested.
You pulled your sleeping bag out of your backpack and helped Peeta into it. You climbed in on his good side and cuddled into him.
“This is nice.” Peeta said quietly. “I never thought I’d ever be this close to you.”
You smiled and draped an arm over his torso to pull him in. It didn’t take him long to fall asleep, but you stayed awake all night and kept eyes on the entrance of the cave. You were exhausted by the time he woke up the next morning, but you didn’t let him know that. You put a hand on his forehead and felt that it was slightly cooler than the dah before.
“I’m gonna go get you some water.” You told him and tried to get up.
“Wait.” He caught your hand, making you stop.
“Please don’t leave.” He said in a soft voice. His doe eyes were staring into yours pleadingly and it took all your strength to say no.
“You need water.” You insisted. “I’ll just be right outside.”
“Please don’t go.” Peeta whined, sounding like he might start to cry. You knew he’d been lying by the river for days, bleeding out and knowing he could be killed any minute. Now that he was finally with you, it probably terrified him to be left alone again. You felt sympathetic towards Peeta and leaned in to kiss him again. You let it linger for as long as he needed.
“I’ll be right back.” You whispered once you pulled away.
You left the cave, gathered some water for Peeta, and purified it before heading back to him. When you reached the cave, a parachute was waiting for you outside. You gasped and grabbed it before running inside. He had fallen asleep again in your absence so you bent down to kiss him awake.
“Peeta, Peeta, Peeta. Wake up.” You said as you peppered kissed all over his face until he woke up.
“What? What happened?” Peeta asked through a yawn.
“Look what Haymitch sent you.” You smiled and presented him the parachute.
“Food?” Peeta asked hopefully.
“Uh huh. Soup.” You nodded and got the food ready for him.
“Wow. My first parachute.” Peeta smiled to himself. The parachute wasn’t really sent to Peeta. You had made that up because when you told him Haymitch had sent you a few things, he seemed sad that he hadn’t received anything. You wanted to cheer him up, so you told a little white lie.
“How are you feeling?” You asked as you helped him sit up.
“A little better. I think my fevers breaking.”
“That’s great. I would love to get you to eat something.”
“I’m really not hungry.” Peeta admitted, making you freeze. Not having an appetite despite not eating in days was not a good sign.
“Please? Just a bite?”
“No. If only there was something you could do to persuade me.” Peeta sighed, making you laugh endearingly. You leaned in to kiss Peeta and he met you halfway. He kissed you for as long as you let him before pulling away.
“Suddenly, I’m starving.” Peeta said, making you laugh. You carefully spoon fed him the soup and felt his forehead when you were done.
“Damn it.” You hissed.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re burning up again. I thought you were getting better.” You started to panic and sat back on your knees to think. Your mother or sister would know exactly what to do here, but you didn’t.
“It’s okay. Maybe I’m just warm from the sleeping bag.” Peeta tried to calm you down.
“Maybe. Let me check your leg.” You checked his leg and just as you suspected, it looked worse.
“Damn it!” You screamed and got off the floor. You went over to the wall of the cave and pressed your forehead against it as you cried in frustration.
“We need medicine. Not soup. You won’t get better without medicine. Why isn’t anyone sending medicine?” You cried and tugged at your hair.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Peeta said calmly.
“It’s not okay!” You shouted. “The leaves aren’t working. Why aren’t they working?”
“Maybe the infection is just too deep. It might’ve been a lost cause before you even found me.” Peeta voiced his deepest concern, one that you both shared.
“No. There’s no way you survived this far to get wiped out by an infection. You survived Cato’s blade. I’m not gonna let you die over the infection that came after it.”
Peeta stayed quiet as you paced back and forth and tried to come up with a plan.
“We just need more sponsors. We need them to send us medicine so that you can get better. What can we do to get their attention?” You asked him.
“I think we’ve done everything already.” Peeta said regretfully.
“Then I’ll… I’ll- um. Uh….” You trailed off when no ideas came to mind.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I can’t fix this. I can’t fix you.” You started to freak out and dropped down to your knees. You buried your face in your hands and felt your entire body give up. You banged your fists on the ground in frustration before letting out a guttural sob.
“It’s okay.” Peeta assured you. “You’ve done as much as you could.”
“But it’s not enough.”
“It’s enough. It’s more than enough.” Peeta replied. He felt helpless as he watched you cry and tried to come up with a way to distract you from the inevitable doom he was facing.
“You know, I remember the first time I saw you.” He said, catching your attention.
“You do?” You sniffled and looked up at him.
“Uh huh. It was the first day of kindergarten. My dad pointed you out and said, “see that girl? I was gonna marry her mother.” He still seemed jaded by it after all those years. I watched you walk into school and ran in after you.”
“Your dad and my mom? Is that true?” You smiled a little and crawled over to him.
“Apparently they dated before she met your father. My dad used to grumble about the coal miner with the golden voice whenever he and my mom would fight.”
“Did that happen a lot?” You asked sympathetically as Peeta reached up to wipe your tears.
“My brothers and I used to try to separate them. He’d hit her. Then he’d hit us. Then we’d be silent for a few days. And then, it was like it never happened.”
“Until it happened again?” You assumed.
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Until it happened again.”
“I’m sorry, Peeta. I didn’t know you had it so bad.” You frowned and laid down on his chest.
“It’s not your fault. You’ve got your own troubles. Don’t worry about mine.” He said as he rubbed his hand up and down your back. You stayed with your head over his heartbeat for a while as you calmed down.
“I’m surprised you turned out the way you are.” You said after a minute.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re so kind. But your home life wasn’t kind you. I wonder where you get it from.”
“I don’t know. Maybe that’s just me.”
“Yeah. Maybe that’s just you.” You smiled and looked up at him. Peeta didn’t look at you, though. He had a far off look in his eyes as if he was thinking of something he couldn’t put to words.
“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this anymore. It’ll be awkward when you go home.” You said to change the subject.
“I’m not going home.” He laughed softly. There was no self pity in his voice. He wasn’t trying to make you guilty. He genuinely believed that and had already accepted it.
“Peeta.” You said warningly.
“It’s okay. I know it. You know it. Even my parents knew it the day I left. I’ve said goodbye to them. They’re in the past now.” Peeta shrugged. He looked down at you and brushed some hair that had come loose from your braid off your forehead.
“All I see is you now.” He said softly. You stared at him in silence, never being good with words. You had so much you wanted to say to him, but the way he was looking at you made your mind go blank.
“After that first day that my dad pointed you out, I always looked at you. I remember the first day of school when the teacher asked if anyone knew the valley song. And your hand shot straight up. I followed you home that day. And every day after that.” Peeta recalled as he stared into your eyes.
“I didn’t know that.” You smiled softly.
“I used to watch you hunt from the bakery window.” He continued. “You were usually with Gale. But sometimes you’d go alone and I’d wonder what would happen if went outside and asked to go with you.”
“Why? So you could hunt?” You laughed in surprise.
“So I could be with you.” He said simply.
“Peeta.” You smiled guiltily. Peeta looked at you for long time before reaching up to touch your braid. He held it in his hands as if it was solid gold.
“I should’ve told you how I felt before the games. I feel so stupid for waiting until we were on opposing sides of a death match to tell you how much I care about you.”
“We’re not on opposing sides.” You shook your head.
“There’s only one winner.”
“I know. That doesn’t put us on opposing sides.” You told him. You stared into his eyes for a moment and reached out to touch his face.
“Nothing could.” You whispered. No matter how much it hurt him, Peeta sat up so that he could cup your face and kiss you. You kissed him back and wished you could close the curtains and shut the world out from this kiss. Even though the romance meant you would get more sponsors, that didn’t matter to you anymore. You knew the way you were feeling for him wasn’t an act anymore. You felt genuine love and you needed him to know that.
“I can’t lose you.” You pulled away to tell him.
“You won’t. Being here with you like this is enough to make me live through anything.” Peeta said as he rolled your broad between his fingers.
“I wish they weren’t watching. I wish it was just us.” You whispered and felt your eyes begin to water. Peeta looked you up and down and a doubtful look crossed his face.
“Do you?” He asked. He wasn’t fully skeptical, just hesitant in believing you. You nodded your head and Peeta seemed to believe you.
“Then it is just us.” He said simply. You couldn’t help but smile before leaning down to kiss home once more.
“I wish I knew how you felt before the games.” You whispered against his lips.
“It wouldn’t have mattered.”
“Yes it would’ve. We could’ve been like this. But safe.”
“You wouldn’t have liked me back. I had nothing to offer you. Nothing you needed, any way. You’re only thinking you would’ve liked me back because I don’t have any competition here.” Peeta said, again with no self pity on his voice. These were just things he knew to be true. And maybe they once were. But as you stared into his eyes now, you knew it wasn’t the truth anymore. You knew you loved him.
“You don’t have any competition anywhere.” You said softly.
“You’re just saying that.” He said with a disbelieving roll of his eyes.
“I’m not.” You insisted. You turned around to look at the camera you knew was behind you before leaning down to whisper in Peeta’s ear.
“I love you.”
When you pulled away, Peeta was watching your face very carefully. He was trying to see if you were just deceiving the cameras or actually professing your love for him. He looked so hopeful that he might cry if it turned out to be the former.
“Real or not real?” He asked, making you smile.
“Real.” You assured him. Peeta let his guard down and finally broke into the smile he’d been holding in. He tilted his head up so that you’d kiss him but pulled away a little just before your lips could touch.
“Promise?” He whispered.
“Promise.” You replied before pressing your lips to his.
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pandoraslxna · 1 year
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can I request a story where ao’nung is the reader’s step brother and she accidentally flashed him and he couldn’t handle himself and he knows its wrong but he just had to mate with her
(I know this is weird but i’ve just been fantasising about it)
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Under control
Stepbro Ao'nung x female metkayina reader
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Words: 3.1k
Warnings: explicit smut, stepcest (= they’re stepsiblings, means they’re not blood related!), aged up characters, oral (f receiving), voyeurism, slightly obsessive Ao’nung, teasing, sexual tension, slightly bratty reader, p in v, creampie
Notes: I hope you both don’t mind that I fused these two requests together, they just fit so well 👀 (definitely not my best work lol I wrote this instead of sleeping and it’s not proofread so it probably won’t make much sense)
Na’vi translation:
Tsmuke - sister
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Ao'nung thought he had it under control.
He really thought that he would easily be able to restrain himself, when you joined his family of five, as some kind of stepsister.
You were pretty, no doubt. And Ao’nung lied to himself that it was normal, the way he looked at you. He tried to make himself believe that it was probably hard for every men to peel their eyes off of you whenever you walked by with that sway of your hips, almost seductively, or emerged from the water like some goddess.
No, there was definitely nothing wrong with him. It was totally normal that his gaze lingered on your body for way longer than necessary, consuming every inch of your skin, eyes following every droplet of sea water that ran down your body to places where he’d like to touch, kiss, bite and— no.
He had it under control.
You were considered part of his family now and he had to brush off these kind of thoughts about you.
And he definitely had it under control.
That was, until he stumbled upon you on a late evening, down at the shore. It was his secret spot, a piece of hidden beach, far from the village, where he’d often spent some time away from any annoying duties as the future olo’eyktan of his clan. Apparently, you had discovered that place too.
Great, he thought, you really can’t have shit for yourself on these islands…
Ao’nung was about to send you off, tell you to find your own spot and leave him alone. But the sight that revealed in front of him throws him off guard completely.
You had intended to sunbath here, where you were undisturbed and alone. Savoring the last few rays of sun, before the eclipse would begin. Completely oblivious of your stepbrothers presence, you had untied your top and loincloth and lied down, your eyes fluttering shut when your back met the warm sand. Ao’nung had to swallow thickly and his hands flexed into tight fists on his sides, while he watched you from afar.
Every day it was getting harder for him to contain himself when you were around. Especially difficult, if he was forced to watch your body move in the clear water all day long. How your top would sometimes rise up, when you tied your hair together, almost exposing your chest to him. How tight your clothes would cling to your curves when you emerged from the water. And how you dried yourself in the sun, just like right now. With the last droplets of sea water collecting in your navel and sweat beading on your breasts, making his mouth water. Fuck, you really had some pretty tits. The perfect size, so round and soft looking that he wanted to bury his head in between them.
Ao’nung knew he should go. He should go and cool off, but the place where he would usually go to do just that, was unfortunately already occupied. And that’s when he finally lost it, his self control.
Enough is enough, he thought and approached you with determination written clearly on his face.
"You’re a little tease, you know that?"
"Fuck– Ao’nung", you gasp, startled, and quickly fold both of your arms over your chest in an attempt to cover yourself. "Don’t sneak up on me like that!"
"Sneak up on you?", your stepbrother scoffed, "You’re the one laying naked on the beach, for the whole world to see, in broad daylight!"
"Well, to my defense, I thought I was alone", you explained, rolling your eyes at him. You knew that Ao’nung was protective of his family, but he wasn’t your father. And you wouldn’t let him shame you for doing something as simple as sunbathing.
"Oh, don’t play dumb with me", Ao’nung suddenly sneered with a sharp grin on his face, "You know exactly that this is where I go to be alone. And you happen to have a sunbath right here? Naked?"
You frown at his words. "I mean yes, but… i thought you and Rotxo were still—", you begin to stammer, but Ao’nung is quick to cut you off with a laugh, shaking his head.
"No, you know exactly that I wasn’t with Rotxo all day." He takes a step closer to you and you had to crane your neck to look up at him now. "Sounds to me like you did that on purpose", he chuckles, tilting his head, "Say, are you trying to seduce your big brother?"
A faint blush suddenly garnishes your cheeks and the tip of your ears and your eyes widen, "Seduce you? I’m sorry, what?" You laugh, but can’t help the way it sounds a little forced, only adding further to Ao‘nungs suspicion.
The smirk on Ao‘nungs face is almost dangerous now, sharp fangs poking out between his lips and you catch a glimpse of his tongue swiping over them as if he’s hungry and staring at a meal he’s about to devour. And then your eyes fall lower, lower, all the way down to what’s right in front of your face.
Ao’nungs gaze follows yours and then he chuckles, watching how you stare at the prominent bulge of his boner, you were currently eye level with. "See anything you like, tsmuke?"
Your eyes flick up to him again, the blush on your cheeks growing more red as you stare at each other. But then you suddenly smile, as smugly as ever, "Don’t tell me a little bare skin made you that hard?"
Slowly, Ao‘nungs face drops to something close to a scowl, a sight that makes you giggle. His ego surely was as big as he was tall and he was just so easy to tease, you had realized about a year ago, using this fact as an advantage whenever he tried to tease you. Usually, it helped you get out of whatever trouble you were in. Gave you the upper hand in any fight. Usually…
"Are you a virgin, nungy?", you giggle, tilting your head almost mockingly, "Is this your first time seeing a girl naked?"
Slowly, almost sensually, you drop your arms from your chest, letting your hands glide over your breast, fingers brushing over your hardened nipples, letting goosebumps appear on your body, before they fall to your sides. Ao’nung swallows.
"Cut that out", he growls through gritted teeth, "You know I hate that nickname."
Again, you giggle and in an innocent gesture, you fold your hands together in your lap, purposefully causing your breasts to be squished together between your arms and making them appear bigger. "Well, are you?"
His hand snaps to your jaw so quick that you can barely proceed that they had moved at all, squeezing your soft cheeks between his fingers in a strong grip. "Oh, you wanna find out?", he growls.
There’s the tiniest movement, barely a nod, but with the way Ao’nung was gripping your jaw, holding you firm, it was all you could manage. But it was all that he needed, to finally, finally give in to you, give in to himself, to loose his last bit of self control.
Ao‘nung grins as he crouches down to be eye level with you, abandoning your jaw in order to hold your shoulders and push you back down against the sand with soft thud. He manhandles you into position, legs spread and then angled- no, rather folded so your knees were almost touching your ears.
His hands are on the backside of your thighs, keeping them open and presenting your glistening cunt to him like a five course meal. With a chuckle, Ao’nung licks his lips, "Look at you, I‘ve barely even started and you’re soaking already."
A shudder runs through you at this, his face so close to the space between your legs that you felt his hot breath against your skin.
"Is that why you were 'sunbathing' here? Are you getting off from flashing your brother, huh? So wet just because I’ve seen your pretty tits."
"Stepbrother…", you mutter softly, a weak attempt to defend your dignity. There’s a cute pout forming on your flustered face, much to Ao’nungs amusement. "Doesn’t fucking matter", he shrugs and grins, "You’re still a filthy girl, about to get fucked so good that you’ll be screaming my name. Your stepbrothers name."
The moment those words had left his lips, he wasted no more time and with a speed born of practice, he dove headfirst between your thighs. He kissed your pubic bone, traveling down to part your folds with his tongue and spread you open with a long lick, ending with his mouth on your clit. He sucked and lapped and made you squirm within seconds. Another stroke with his tongue, followed by a deep kiss on your throbbing clit, and then he came up for air, savoring your taste and scent.
You still smell like the ocean from your previous swim, skin warm from drying in the sun and theres a sweetness to your taste that lights a fire inside him.
"Eywa, you taste so damn good", Ao’nung groans as he lick his lips. His chest heaves as he catches his breathe, unintentionally mimicking the way you were trying to do the same. Your breath hitches in your throat when he lowers his head again, the tickle of his tongue induces a shaky moan as he begins to rim your entrance, strong hands holding you from squirming away. When his tongue pushes inside, your legs twitch to spread them wider and your hips push up for more, trying to grind on Ao’nungs face in pure reflex. Your body definitely knew what it wanted, no matter how wrong it may be.
Your arousal, hot and wet on his mouth, drove him wild with lust. With each stroke, he felt you open up more and more, your warm slickness leaking out and sliding down his chin as he devoured you. Ao’nung could take you right now if he wanted to— so wet, so eager, so very ready. He could ram into you balls-deep as easy as anything. The urge shot like lightning through his core and into his cock. He could rip down his loincloth, grab you by the ankles and fuck you into the sandy ground till you screamed. If he really laid into you, they'd hear it from the other end of the shore, all the way down to the village. Let everyone know that Ao’nung was doing something forbidden, that he was fucking his precious stepsister and he was doing a real good job with it.
Those thoughts made him moan into your pussy and he delved as deep as he could go. He felt every movement rippling through you, every tiny twitch and spasm. Just warning tremors now, but the big one was coming and he'd make sure it came hard.
"Hmm oh fuck", you hummed breathlessly, "m‘so close, right there. Don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop please! Please I’m gonna cum!" Your voice had turned into a sweet whine and your head lolled, but in your core, the muscles that had melted just moments ago began to tighten, tense and tremble as you neared the edge.
And then he placed a skilled kiss to your clit and your breath caught. He knew that sound, has heard it so many times before, when you were playing with yourself in the other room of the marui, thinking that everyone was already sound asleep. When he was listening, fisting his cock in a furious pace, to the sweet sounds that you made, wondering what you were thinking about. Such a tiny noise, barely audible, and with a low moan of anticipation, he buried his face into you. Your back arched, quivering— right there, right there, as you felt yourself poised on the brink, and with a breathless, "Coming," you did.
You trembled as the tingling feeling of your orgasm pulsed through your veins. Your body bucked in reflex— once, twice, and the third time became a shuddering full-body spasm as you drew out the feeling for as long as you could. Then, slowly, it released you and withdrew, leaving you completely breathless.
"Hm, well that was easy", Ao’nung chuckled lowly as he came back up, the bottom half of his face glistening in your juices. The sight made you blush. He then finally let go of your thighs in order to drape your legs over his strong shoulders, pulling you close enough that you felt the tip of his hard cock prodding at your entrance. "You have another one in you, don’t you? Cause I need to feel you come around my cock like that."
"Yes, yes fuck, Ao’nung please", you whine, simultaneously nodding your head as best as you can, "need you to fuck me, don’t hold back!"
"Oh don’t worry, tsmuke, I’ve lost all of my self control about twenty minutes ago", Ao’nung tells you with a sharp grin, "Not even Eywa could make me hold back now."
And with that, he pushes forwards, the head of his cock nudging itself through your wet entrance with minimal resistance and your mouth drops in a silent gasp as the first few inches press into you. It’s a tight, snug fit, and the pleasure shivers through his entire body as he digs his hands into the soft skin of your waist and feels the silky, perfect heat of your cunt clenching down on him. You’re wet, slicked with arousal and spit, relaxed from your previous orgasm, yet he still groans, "S-Shit and you’re calling me a virgin? You’re fucking tight like one!"
Ao’nung released a deep breath, that he didn’t even realize he was holding, when he was finally buried to the hilt inside you. He could come just from this, just from finally being inside of you, without even moving or actually laying a finger on you— and he’s tempted to, if only he wasn’t trying to prove something here. A lame excuse for the both of you to finally give in to each other.
"I‘m not… not tight", you mumble, "you’re just so f-fucking big!"
"Yeah that’s probably right", your stepbrother scoffed and both of his muscular arms came to hug your legs even tighter against his chest, your ankles locking behind his head. Ao’nung then pulls all the way out, leaving only the tip inside, before slamming back into you. Toes curling, you cry out in ecstasy. Lewd slapping sounds of flesh against flesh fill both of your ears within seconds, as Ao’nung sets a hard and fast pace. It doesn’t take long for you to be reduced to a blubbering mess of whimpers and moans as he repeatedly stretches and fills you.
You arch your back as another wave of pleasure rushes through you and the angle allows him to fuck even deeper into you. Above you, Ao’nung groans and hisses, cursing your tightness and the way your wet walls seem to massage his cock as he plunges it in and out of you.
He was thrusting into you so hard now, it knocked the very air out of your lungs, leaving you gasping for breath. You already felt so close again, another orgasm building so painfully quick inside you, that you could barely keep up with it.
"Do it", Ao’nung said, sounding almost as breathlessly as you did. It was only now that you realized, you must’ve said something about your approaching orgasm. "Fucking do it, come on this cock. C‘mon, be a good girl and I’ll fill you up with my cum."
Like you were obeying a command, your eyes rolled back and your eyelids shut, finally feeling yourself tipping over the edge with a scream of his name. Your second orgasm completely knocked the breath out of you then, body exploding in a hot burst of pleasure that made you see stars.
"There you go." His words were barely audible over your moans, chants of curses and his name, as he helped you through it. "You’re squeezing me so tight, o-oh fuck, so good."
Ao’nung knew that there was no going back from this now. The damage was done, the border was crossed and both of you would surely land in what the humans would call hell. But by eywa was it worth it, with the way he felt your tight pussy clamp down around his cock in such a vice-like grip, that he had trouble pulling out properly and slamming back in.
How could something that was supposed to be wrong even feel so damn good?
He fucked you harder now, desperately pounding into you as he chased his own desperate release. His body locked up, every muscle becoming rock hard, and then a shudder started from the base of his spine, flowering outward through his entire body. You felt him come harder than you expected him to, you had to admit.
Ao’nung gave one last thrust, hips pausing, and then you felt it flowing— hot shots of cum pumped into you, filling you up nice and warm as he lost himself inside you with a groan.
You still weren’t there, not really, not when he pulled out with a heavy sigh, when the cum started to drool down your legs and when he shuffled to his feet. Your thoughts were syrupy-slow, still drunk of the feeling of two so mind blowing orgasm, that it took you several moments to realize that Ao’nung was reaching a hand out for you to take.
He rolls his eyes when you finally take it and then he pulls you up, making you stand on wobbly legs. Immediately, you begin to claw on his arms. A desperate attempt to keep you from falling, as your knees buckled like you were a freshly birthed Yerik foal. You mutter a quiet curse, your gaze adverted to the ground in embarrassment.
"Hm, sorry i kinda lost control", Ao’nung chuckles, his chest puffing up in pride, "Still think your big brother’s a virgin or did I fuck that thought right out of you?"
You look up at him and glare, or at least you try to, but fail miserably thanks to the blush spreading all over your face, making you look more flustered and coy than anything else. You only hum your response, not trusting your voice just yet. You were sure that it was hoarse by now, from the way you were screaming his name just moments ago. It’s a defeated sound that’s like music to his ears and you press your lips into a thin line, while he gathers your loincloth off the ground and ties it around your hip. A self-satisfied smile spreads over his lips by the sight of his cum running down the inside of your thighs.
"Yeah that’s what I thought."
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fangirlfrom-hell · 5 months
Text
Exciting ||Jay Halstead x Daughter and reader
Jay has to take his daughter to work for the first time and he’s not excited about it.
For the one that voted Jay x daughter on the poll (this is not a Christmas story though)
Jay wasn’t comfortable with the idea of taking his 4 years old daughter to work, but seemed like luck was not on his side. The girl was on vacation, Y/N was on a work trip, the nanny got sick, Will was on shift and the little girl’s grandparent’s couldn’t take care of her all day long, so he had no choice. He called Voight, who with his raspy voice and without any problem said “Bring her.”
He sighed, “Ok, baby girl. You are coming to work with me today” He notified his little daughter who was sitting with her short legs hanging from the couch.
“To the police station?” Her eyes were shining bright out of excitement.
“Yea”, her dad chuckled. “Mommy will pick you up later, when she comes back home from her trip, ok?”
“Okay. I am excited!” Excited was the last feeling she learned in school and from then on she would use it for everything.
“I am excited too”, he lied, he was more nervous than anything. “Go get your backpack”, he ordered and when she was gone he muttered to himself, “I’m already running late”
It wasn’t common to take one’s son or daughter to the bullpen, but is wasn’t so strange either. Voight and Al had done it in the past with their kids; Burgess and Adam had done it with Malayla too, even Kevin had to take his little sister from time to time. This was the family Hank talked about.
Jay went upstairs with a small pink and shinny backpack with unicorn form on his arm, making a funny contrast with the gun hanging from his hips.
“Where’s the baby girl?” Adam said when he saw his friend arriving alone.
“Platt stole her from me”, he answered. He would have arrived even later if he had waited for Trudy to give her back to him. Kim smiled at the image.
“We haven’t seen her in a while”, Al peeked his head from his hidden desk to participate in the conversation, “A bit of her cheerfulness will do good to this place”
“Well, she is, and I’m quoting, “very excited” to see you all”, the proud dad smirked.
But as much excited as she was, the baby Halstead was very shy to even say good morning to them. As soon as Trudy Platt carried her upstairs, the girl ran towards her father as fast as she could.
“Why are you crying?” Jay asked in a very low voice, while sitting her on his lap.
But the one answering the question was Platt, “She started to worry when she noticed you weren’t around downstairs and then silently started crying”
Ashamed, the little Halstead girl hugged her dad’s neck and buried her face on his shoulder. A chorous of “aw” was heard around. This wasn’t what she expected, visiting the police station didn’t make her feel excited after all.
“It’s alright”, Jay kept whispering into her ear. It was only after a few minutes later that she calmed down, but even when she was acting as if nothing had happened, she was still embarrased.
Al passed by from the coffee room to his desk and handed a coockie to the girl. She hesitated on accepting it, she first turned to her dad who nodded in approval and she stretched her tiny arm to take it.
“Precauted girl. Good”, Olinsky smiled at her and she smiled back.
“Why don’t you take your colors and get to work in your coloring book, hm?” Jay said more like an order as he put her down. He couldn’t really advance in his work if she was there right beside him.
They walked to an unoccupied desk right infront of Adam. The girl climbed the chair as her dad took her belongings out of the unicorn backpack, “There you go. I’ll be right there if you need me. Remember to…”
“…be quiet, shhh” his daughter completed.
She stayed there for a while, coloring different pages. The detectives, specially Kim, would praise her artistic work whenever they had to walk by her side. She liked Kim, that woman was funny, but she couldn’t really take her eyes off of the man who had gave her the cookie: Alvin Olinsky, but he was too busy to noticed.
“Daddy”, she silently stood up an whispered, trying not to distract the people around, “I don’t want to color anymore. I want to draw”
“Uh, let me check if I have something for you to—“
“I have some white sheets in here”, Hailey opened a drawer and handed a bunch to the Halstead girl. She liked Hailey too, she had a bright smile.
“How do you say?” Her father encouraged her before going back to her place.
“Thank you, Hailssss”
She was immersed in her own world, drawing, coloring and cutting. She stood up to get closer to Adam and touched his leg to call his attention.
“How do you write ‘I love you’?” She asked the detective.
“Oh!” He took a notebook and a pen, “Very easy, let me just show you”
Jay looked up to witness the scene, altough he couldn’t hear any word they were exchanching, “Hey, sweetie”, he called out, “Let Ruz work, ok?”
“No big deal” His collegue said handing her the sheet.
A few minutes later, the little girl stood up once more to go with her father. She stretched her hand to hand him a very colorful circle of paper.
“Wow! Is this for me?” Jay exxagerated his emotion, and then melted when he read the phrase ‘I love you’ followed by a crooked heart.
With excitement, she explained it was a cup holder: “Yea, you can put your mug there”. Following orders from such a smooth voice, Jay placed his mug over the gift.
“Just what I needed” He kissed her head. When she withdrew of his side, Jay immediatly took the paper with the witten phrase and placed it in a spot where he was able to see it all the time.
Before going back to sit on her chair, the girl passed by Al’s desk and stood next to him staring, until he finally noticed.
She took him by surprise, a cute surprise, “Hey, you scared me!” That made her laugh.
“What do you like the most?” The kid asked wothout any other introduction, “Ducks or unicorns?”
Detective Olinsky took his time to answer the question. He observed that Halstead’s daughter was wearing a T-shirt full of unicorns, her pink shinny backback also had the shape of a unicorn, so he went by that, thinking it would be the correct answer.
“Unicorns, I love unicorns”
But she didn’t had the reaction he expected, instead she sadenned, “Oh! I was going to draw a duck for you”
Being in a space close to Olinsky, and paying attention to what his daughter was doing all the time, Jay listened and couldn’t help to smile to the reaction of his parter.
“Oh, well, I love ducks too!” Alvin tried to amend his error.
“A duck, then?”
“Yea, a duck!”
And she moved her tiny legs as fast as she could. Both detectives shared a look and laughed.
It didn’t pass a lot of time when the girl was next to Olinsky’s chair again, but this time he noticed. Without speaking, she handed to him the drawing of a duck happily swimming in a lake.
“What? Is this for me?” She nodded. There was something peaceful in his voice that she liked. “Thank you very much! I really love it. What’s this?” He pointed to a brown circle tha was close to the animal. The answer make him smile showing his teeth.
“A cookie”
“Well, this masterpiece deserves to be in a special place” The detective took a bit of tape and pasted the drawing where it could be seen by everyone.
Little Halstead ran to his father to tell him what just had happened.
“That’s not fair!” Adam teased her later on the day. “I want my own drawing too! I showed you how to write that phrase, you gotta remember that!”
“It will have to be another day”, Jay intervened. “Time to pick everything up, your mom’s on her way to pick you up”
“Mommy’s back?” She asked with the same bright eyes she had when realizing she was going to the police station.
“Yeah!” Her dad smirked.
“I am excited!” She stated while putting her stuff back into the backpack.
“Say goodbye, time to go. Mommy’s downstairs”
She waved her little hand to everybody in the bullpen, “Bye bye”. She even peeked her head into Voight’s office, “Goodbye, Serge”
“You are leaving already? Goodbye, little one” Hank said in a very friendly tone, “Come back soon, whenever you want”
She laughed at the idea, “I will”
It was a bit hard for her to walk down the stairs. “Do you need help?” Jay asked with his arms opened to carry her and she jumped to him.
As soon as she spotted Y/N at the desk with Trudy she yelled at her. Jay put her down on the floor when the stairs were over and his baby ran towards her mom, who picked her up in a tight hug.
“Mommy!”
“Ugh, how much I missed you” Y/N said covering their daughter in kisses.
“Me too!”
“Did the detectives threated you good?” Trudy asked, “How was your day at daddy’s work, hm?”
Wothout hesitating and with a lot of emotion, the girl answered “Oh! It was exciting!”
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shiro41 · 2 months
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A bet - Alastor x reader (honey moon edition)
Warnings: tit sucking.
Note: I accidentally deleted the oneshot a few days ago and this was the remaining parts of it and im too lazy to rewrite the whole thing again. The anon that requested this was also deleted 😭 im sorry babes!
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The cold droplets of water running down your skin didn't stop you from exposing yourself on the balcony with only a piece of robe covering your figure. It's cold, wintry air ghosting your skin that made you shiver and you wonder why your husband preferred to sit by the balcony with a glass of champagne in hand, reading the news for today. How peculiar of him, reading there as if he's sipping coffee in a morning on a random day by the porch. You suppose you didn't marry a normal person, Alastor has his antics of coming off as unsettling seldom times.
"What's got your attention tonight, love?"
You asked, a hand on the back of his chair. You know dear husband despises physical touches unless initiated first, settling to lean on the wooden material to look over the newspaper at hand.
"Nothing, dear."
The tone of his voice upsets you, it lies with hidden disappointment and untold anger towards the headlines of his reading. Represented in bold writing states a murder recently found by the stream deep within the forest, assuming that he's the one to cut their throat and ascend their soul to heaven or hell.
"It's alright, love. You can always have more."
You reassured, brushing away your hand through his locks that's been a mess since the start of your evening. Albeit the reassurance, a chuckle surfaces from you after. You look at Alastor, a hint of glint in your eyes as you spoke with a tone coated with sickening, sweet, honey.
"Does this mean I won?"
A quick sigh from him and a crumple of the bundles of newspaper later, he turns to you with his foxy eyes and a caress of his thumb across the soft knuckles of your hand. The hearts in his eyes are painfully obvious despite the metaphor used, his affection and extreme lengths of risks for love, devotion for you is undeniably lasting.
"Oh, dear girl, I suppose you are. What do you desire this evening?"
"Why not solve the insatiable desire to have my husband enjoy the rest of our honeymoon together?"
You giggle when he press a quick kiss on your forehead, tender and small yet the warmth that lingered even after he's pulled away from you represented his undying affection. The irritation washed away from his eyes, the same smile he's always seen with still present but the unsettling feeling bought with it was non existent at the moment, instead was replaced with a stroke of love and genuity.
"I shouldn't complain about it then, darling. Still, I should've buried it elsewhere."
He whined, leading you away from the balcony where the cold air constantly fans your freshly washed face and barely covered body. Swiftly, his hand swiped and skillfully set up the gramophone and the disc of his music of choice. Unsurprised when it played the familiar tunes of jazz and romantic melody to match the atmosphere of your situation with Alastor.
"I knew you'd lose the moment i helped you throw it by the river."
You giggle, following his footsteps as the both of you circled the room with a bounce on your pattern. Again with the smile, teeth now disappearing behind his lips as it reached the sparkle in his eyes whilst the both of you dance your night away in a dimly light room situated above ground and away from the bustling city.
"A grave mistake, love."
He swooped down, hands travelling down towards the soft plush of your hips and a little more space used to close the distance between you both until the tip of his nose finds your own.
"I win tonight, Alastor."
You breathed, eyes half lidded until it closed once he sealed his lips with yours. Quickly, the soft music of jazz was muted by your subconscious as you chose to focus on the kiss you share with your husband and further melt into his touches until you fall back to the cushions of the bed behind.
The fall didn't stop and separate the long, passionate kiss, only lengthening it with added dancing tongues and clashing of teeth, barely letting go with a soft bite of the other's lips, pulling them back to another heated kiss.
"I love you, Alastor."
"Nothing can separate me from you, lovely. Even death will not break the curse of our love."
He whispered against your ear, peppering it with gentle kisses and a nip on your earlobe. He growls, low and subtle, only for you to hear. From your jaw to the skin of your neck, he's littered it with kisses and marks, bites of his teeth resembled the fierce affection he has for his wife, only travelling down lower until he's at the valleys of your breasts that's covered with a robe he so quickly removed to see the perky nipples of your chest. A blush coat your cheeks, finding it embarrassing as you watch your husband yet again pepper them with kisses before his lips land onto the hardened buds that awaited his arrival.
"Shall I grant you the pleasure to suckle on these fine breasts of yours, cher?"
He asked, flicking the bud as he twisted the other like a baby playing with their food. A whimper comes out of your mouth, a hand coming to your lips in an attempt to shush your unholy noises. Alastor continues his duties like a hard working employee, indulging himself to warm your nipple with a thick coat of his saliva and suckling motions.
The other wasn't abandoned still, his hand twisted and groped the soft flesh, feeling the way it bounced once he let go and an occassional pull from them results a quiver and a strangled moan from you.
He truly loved the unholy music sang by you, only for his ears to listen to. He wished to savor these moments, heightening his senses to focus on the whines that spews out of your lips and enjoy the taste of your flesh being nipped inbetween his teeth.
Your hand finds its way to your husband's hair, gripping on it as you pull his head closer--deeper, as if burying his face into you until all he can see and hear is the beating of your heart and the blood circulating inside it. With a 'pop', Alastor looks at you through half lidded eyes coated with thick, sinful lust and a hint of admiration towards the beauty that layed beneath him, pussy throbbing underneath the robe, tits coated with saliva, neck littered with bite marks and a flushed face of a goddess. How angelic you must look before him, almost convincing him he's seen a glimpse of heaven's pearly gates without stepping foot on the cloudy surface of the floors.
His hand wandered down, tracing the curves of your body and the beautiful scars that decorated it, sighing with bliss as you whimpered when his hand landed on the prize inbetween your plush thighs, it heated his cold hand, warming it with slick liquids that's been dripping the past minute when your husband's attention was directed to your perky tiddies. Your pussy throbbed with nothing until his fingers encircled the aching organ, begging for his dick to penetrate it.
"Alastor...please...put it in..!"
You whined, looking at him through lidded eyes with cheeks erupting a rosy colour as your mouth nipped and suckle on your fingers.
"Hush, darling. Be patient, the night is still long."
He purred lovingly.
---
It is safe to say that weeks later, when coming home from work, Alastor is greeted with a burnt bun in the oven.
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toorurs · 11 days
Text
COLUMBA
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synopsis: rainbow roses represent love and passion. similar to the feelings you’ve harbored for lyney ever since the two of you were children, feelings full of determination and tenderness.you take the initiative to confess your feelings,  the cards are already laid out on the table, the choices have already been written out and decided. besides one: the one that reveals lyneys response. how will he react?
✧ pairing: lyney x reader | wordcount: 2.1k | content and warnings: fluff, angst, confessing feelings | prompt: unrequited love | oneshot
✧ authors note: i might dislike this one even more than the "wish you were sober" one... this one's just so much more choppier</3
✧ tags: @azullumi
event: STARCROSSED 2024
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“and a rainbow rose for you!” 
the sly magician winks at you as he reaches out his gloved hand to yours. lyneys slender fingers are gracefully wrapped around the stem of the colorful flower. he looks at you, eyes full of anticipation as he awaits your reaction. 
his eyes twinkle like an amethyst - a gem that gleams and reflects the fluorescent light as it gets shone upon, presenting the purity that lies hidden beneath the depths of the pair of eyes. the irises that are drenched in a deep purple glint with a certain shimmer that you can’t quite make out. if you were to take a guess you’d say that they look hopeful, buoyant, almost fond. 
seriously, who were you to deny him? his smile is probably worth a fortune, it’s blithe practically dreamy. the ash blond is undeniably a beauty among the nation of justice - a seraphic seashell that lies buried in the fine sand, easily seeping through the tiny gaps of the palms as it is held with utter care. petite sand corns disappearing out of sight and the only object that remains in the hands is the mussel. 
it basks in the radiant sunlight and the sand that slipped out of the grasp of the fingers can only watch in envy, as the seashell continues to relish in the gentleness of the person who discovered it. the one who is allowed to see its beauty and all the secrets that are kept sealed beneath.
amid the vague living room light, lyney continues to shine as elegant as ever. his stage presence long-forgotten, revealing his true nature to you, the lyney whom you know, the one whom you grew up with, the one who makes your heart race. the lyney that shows himself to the outside world is simply just the celebrated magician of the court of fontaine but there was much more to lyney, so much more. 
to the people of fontaine he’s like the backside of a playing card, unaware of the image, the number, the symbol that is imprinted on it. but that’s not the case for you. unlike them you know lyney like the back of your hand. the two of you grew up together at the house of the hearth. under the care of father with lynette, freminet and the other children that resided there. 
no matter how many times lyney and lynette tried to trick you with one of their new learned magic tricks, you’ve always seen through them. nevertheless you weren’t able to deny that they were really impressive, especially for children of such a young age. naturally, over the years he grew up to be a grand magician, not only wrapping the audience that was seated in the rich red places in the court around his fingers, but also you. luring you in by coaxing mellow praises into your ear and simple gestures like this one, offering you a rainbow rose a day before a performance. 
an action that never fails to make you swoon.
his incandescent eyes, the ones that glow like a vibrant glass shard that got swept to the shore by the tide, his million dollar smile that is plastered on his pale face, they are the traits that make lyney look simply irresistible. 
(you don't think you could ever reject lyneys advances, after all you’ve already fallen far too deep into the bottomless abyss, also known as love, to search for your path out.)
right now, at this moment you think lyney looks absolutely majestic, heavenly even. taking a snapshot of this wouldn’t be enough to capture the beauty of lyney. neither would a portrait do the job well. the movements of the paintbrush are delicate, swiftly moving around the canvas, but they’re not enough. no matter how many brushstrokes were to be painted, they still wouldn’t be enough. 
(either way he’d outshine every other painting that gets hung next to his. he’s the muse that will always be out of everyone's reach.) 
simply because lyneys beauty, his bare nature, is something to keep etched into your mind, engraving it onto stone so that it will never fade or wash away, no matter the circumstances.
you reciprocate his action, accepting the flower. grasping the rainbow rose carefully, so that the stem doesn’t crinkle and eventually falls into two pieces or the blossom loses its petals. “my, what’s the occasion?” a performance awaits the folk of fontaine tomorrow. you already knew the answer, but, nevertheless you question him. lyneys honeyed voice is a sound you’ll never get tired of. listening to him as he talks never feels like a chore, rather, it feels like a voluntary course that isn’t important at all. but nevertheless you stick around, to not miss what others don't get to see.
“well, as you might already know, a performance awaits the folk of fontaine tomorrow.” the magician responds. you can only chuckle at that, predicting lyney has always been easy for you. 
“is that so? i can't wait.” you give him a small grin and take another peek at the flower. beautiful, you think to yourself as you look up to lyney once again. the corners of your mouth curve into a content smile. lyney stares right back at you and does the same, giving you a bright grin in return that makes your heart pump quickly. 
the brightness of lyneys smile competes with the one of the sun, it’s warm and welcoming. it works wonders like medicine, soothing and curing your wounds with a simple grin. lyney is out of this world, he's charismatic, making you fall for him head over heels. fun to be around, always making you laugh over stupid jokes. and not to mention caring. 
the first two buttons of his white dress shirt are unbuttoned, showing off his delicate collarbone. lyney was never particularly muscular, rather, he had a quite slender build.
“i’ve never put much effort into my physical training as in my shows. after all, i have an audience to bewitch with magic tricks, not my body."  you recall his words and the giggle he let out after.
some strands of his ash blonde hair are out of place, including his dyed one. his maroon colored hair slightly stands out, but you don’t mind, it's similar to the color of a maple leaf, vivid and lively. flying through the wind, admired by passersby as it floats around in the air. out of reach until someone takes the chance to grab it. 
“by the way, where’s the thank you?” lyney jokes in an offended manner. his sultry voice snapping you out of your former haze. 
“hm?” you tilt your head to the side.
“for the flower.” he points at the rose with his gloved finger. 
“ah, right. thanks a lot, it's really pretty.” you thank him by giving him another smile. before casting your gaze down to the rose again, admiring the colorful petals as you remember charlotte's words. 
“for example, magicians often use “rainbow roses” in their flower related performances to represent passion and romantic encounters.” her words stuck to you like a millstone around one’s neck. surely lyney knows what they mean, he’s not unaware what they symbolize right?
it makes you wonder if lyney is aware of your feelings, and possibly even returns them. lyney has always had a keen eye for the beauty of this world, attentively swaying his gaze around and admiring the elegance that lies within each individual. did lyney also see that kind of beauty in you? one that goes even further down, reaching into the inescapable depths. but then he’d face the ugliness that slummers at the bottom, despite that, how is lyney able to love you? 
for you the beauty of this planet has always been lyney. he’s the sun that you bask in, relishing in its warmth as the sun tendrils place delicate kisses on your body. the water that engulfs your body, plattering against your limbs and makes you feel refreshed. he’s the blood that runs through your veins, the one that makes you function properly.  
the question still lingers in the air: does lyney reciprocate your feelings? 
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your grip around the rose is tight, fearing that it might slip out of your grasp when you’re inattentive and losing it. you watch lyney make his way to the stage, the crowd already awaits their renowned magician, waiting in and staring in awe as he performs another unpredictable magic trick. 
the air is thick, the tension increases at every passing second, for both you and the crowd. if lyney takes another step, you’ll lose the lyney you know, your lyney. instead you’ll have to watch as he takes up on his persona, even if it’s only for a mere hour, it always feels like an eternity to you, until you get to see the lyney whom you love again. 
besides the sound of lyney who was shuffling his cards thoroughly once again, it was dead silent.
“nervous?” lyney looks up to you, a knowing glint in his eyes. 
“huh?” you’re confused, what is he implying.
“the way you fiddle with your fingers.” he points at your hands with one of the cards, a red heart you notice. “you only do that when you're anxious.” lyney says. “come on, tell me what’s wrong, you know that i’m always here for you, right?” he gives you a reassuring smile, a genuine smile that isn’t there to satisfy his guests. 
sometimes you forget how easy it is for lyney to see right through you. you nod as a response to his observation. “yeah, ironic isn't it? i’m nervous even though you’re the one who’ll enter the stage at any given moment now.” you try to sound steady, trying to convince yourself. but your voice betrays you, it quivers.
“aww.” lyney coos at you. “you know i hate that expression on you, do you not?” the ash blond sighs dramatically, purple eyes still maintaining eye contact, a fond shadow casting over his pupils. “how am i supposed to go out and present, knowing that my best friend is dying from nervousness.” he jokes, shaking his head. before he looks up at you once again with a look that says “don’t worry.”
best friend. 
“lyney.“ you try to gather your courage, how does one confess their feelings to the person whom they adore?  lyney smiles at you “yeah? i’m all ears.”
“lyney, you’re probably already aware of my feelings. but i really like you.  i love you. i've loved you ever since we got introduced to one another, ever since we were children.” you don’t dare to look him into his eyes, too embarrassed by your confession just now. you play with the fabric of your freshly ironed shirt a bit, to distract yourself, as you await lyneys reactions.
“archons, since when were you this sentimental?” lyney laughs out. “that’s what you were afraid of telling me?” he takes a few steps so that he stands in front of you now. “gotten all shy now?” the magician teases before patting your head. the action makes you look up, greeted by lyneys smile . “i love you too. youre like another sibling to me.” he slightly tilts his head to the side. "even though we’re not blood related, it just feels like we’re family, don’t you think?”
“no! lyney that's not what i-” you protest but you get cut off by the announcement.
“and now ladies and gentlemen, presenting fontaines renowned duo, mr. lyney and ms. lynette! a big applause please!” 
“ah!” lyney looks behind him where everything was already set up and put in place. “i suppose that is my sign to leave. farewell!” he inches away from you. “let’s reunite after the show, shall we?” he winks at you and bids you goodbye before rushing off to make his way over to the stage.
you remain glued to the floor, frozen in place after you’ve just gotten rejected. you hope this is just another one of lyneys antics, a joke that he will later on reveal as faux and tell you that he reciprocates your feelings. but you know that he won't. yes, perhaps lyney is a liar, a good one at that. he has lied to a dozen people before, but never once to you. 
the rainbow rose in your head shines vividly in the dim lightning, its petals making it glow beautifully. you’re not sure what came over you, frustration, regret, remorse. you’re not certain. the petals that were once finely attached to the pistil, will be gone, you rip the petals off, one by one.
he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not.
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e/n: "i got sibling-zoned." "that's rough buddy."
© TOORURS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is not permitted.
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tragedybunny · 6 months
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Sunlight and Stars in the Sky III - Astarion X F!Reader
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The third, and last, part of a little arc about Astarion's confession.
Part 1 Part 2
Astarion has confessed everything to you, to try to make your relationship real. When he discovers it isn't as easy as he thought, he's determined to make things right between the two of you.
Astarion was happy, the happiest he could remember being, as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you tight against his chest. You cared about him and, impossibly, you forgave what he'd been trying to do to you. Snuggled into your hair, he breathed you in, wildflowers and sun-warmed forests. It wasn't what he expected at all. He'd thought you'd scream and curse him, say you never wanted to talk to him again, maybe even force him to leave the camp. 
But you hadn’t. With soft words and the sweetest embrace, you'd told him you cared and would wait for him to be ready for anything more. His Sunlight, you were so good to him. And it was real now, what the two of you had, you had told him that. "Will you still share my tent?" His hand in yours, his voice caught in his throat as he asked. What if you didn't want to without the promise of intimacy? 
“Of course Love,” you’d smiled warmly, “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” 
That’s what led the two of you here, cozily cuddled together, your fingers entwined in his as you lay with your back against him. “No hunting tonight?” 
“It can wait, there’s not much out there and I want all the time I can while you’re awake.” His lips brush your ear, the tiny half-elf point is a bit of a fascination of his, the way sometimes it makes you either giggle or make one of your happy little noises depending on just how it's touched. Tonight you sigh softly, you must be tired. 
Astarion waits until you’re completely asleep to go out hunting, even then he’s loath to disentangle himself from you, afraid you could somehow just vanish. It still stings when he thinks of that first night you stayed in his tent, you were gone when he came back from hunting. Laying there alone in the dark, it was like he had been robbed of something he hadn’t even known he had, and he couldn’t fathom why. Later he learned you still thought you were unwanted at his side. He’d make sure you never thought that again, you were his and he was yours. 
Hunting doesn’t take long, there’s really nothing about, a stray bird that found its way through the curse somehow. Once you all made it to Moonrise he’d make use of some cultists. Besides, that’s all the sooner he can have you back in his arms. Soft steps approach the tent, he doesn’t want to wake you. But something draws his attention, a sound, hushed sobs from within. Frantic that you’ve been harmed somehow, he hurries through the opening only to find you curled up on your side, face hidden in a pillow. Visibly unharmed, it's only your feelings that seem to be wounded by something.  “Darling, are you alright?” Settling next to you, he hesitates before reaching over. Is this what he’s supposed to do? Or do you want space? His hand hangs in the air far too long while he tries to decide. 
You shift and he loses the opportunity, sitting up a little to rub your eyes and try to hide your tears. “I’m fine, nothing to worry about.” 
Awkwardly, he puts a hand on your shoulder. “You can talk to me. Please?” That’s what couples do, they talk to each other, but you’re holding back, and his doubts are starting to claw their way into his mind. 
His eyes meet yours and the sudden realization knocks the air out of him. It’s him, he’s the reason for the tears. How he can see it, he doesn’t know, he’s sure all the same though. But still, you force a little smile for him. “Astarion please, I promise it’s fine.” 
It would seem it’s your turn for pretty lies, and he wants to go along with it with all his heart. Let it go, wait for it to pass, bury it and never look back. But that wound will stay there, unresolved, festering. With a shaky hand, he cups your face gently. “Love, please, I…” He doesn’t know what more to say, so he lets you go and hangs his head. Perhaps he's not meant for this afterall. 
“It’s just…a lot to take in. And it hurts to have been lied to.” Even with your eyes still watery, you’re so gentle with him. Far too gentle. 
Arms move, reaching for you, but he stops, unsure if you'd want the comfort of the one that brought you pain. “I thought we were alright.” He hurt you, his Sunlight, his Darling, his Love, and everything in him wants to run, to get away before this all can go even worse, before he has to hear you say you've changed your mind.
“We will be,” you say, voice worn from crying.
Hells, he can’t let you do this again, be the strong one, put yourself to the side for someone else. Moving closer, he cautiously wraps his arms around you, still not knowing if it's what you want. “I’m sorry. I was so afraid, I didn’t think about hurting you.” 
Returning his embrace, you nuzzle into his neck, an affectionate gesture he couldn’t even conceive of a few days ago, and now he’d die a thousand deaths to keep feeling it. “I know, I’m not mad.” 
“Gods, perhaps you should be. At least if you took it out on me, we’d be even.” Astarion gives a shaky laugh, plunging ahead despite his doubts, because you’re still there, still holding him even after everything. 
You answer with a peculiar little snort-laugh, a sound he’s never heard from yoy. For a fleeting moment he ponders how many more little facets of yours he’ll get to learn about in the time that he gets with you. “Please, if I yelled at you, you’d sulk for days.” 
“I said we’d be even Darling, not that I’d take it gracefully.” Kissing the top of your head, he smiles, grateful you’re playing along. 
“In that case,” you sit up and give him a serious look, which is immediately undercut by the grin you're suppressing, “you’re awful, you have bad hair, and you’re a messy eater.” You gesture to the recent puncture wounds in your neck for emphasis.  
His jaw goes slack and he puts a hand over his heart in mock shock. “I didn’t realize you would be so ruthless about it. Why, if I still could, I would walk into the sun and burn myself out of pure heartbreak.” 
Both of you dissolve into laughter and he scoops you into his lap, lingering giggles dying away as he covers your lips with his. “There, we’re even.” Your head comes to rest against his chest as his fingers trace small circles on your back. 
“In all seriousness, Love, I need you to talk to me. I don’t know how to do any of this, give me a fighting chance.” At the last word, his voice cracks in a way that he abhors, not only does his pride shudder at the thought of breaking in front of you, he still wants to be the strong one right now, to give you that. 
“You really mean that, don’t you?” Turning in his arms, you kneel in front of him, eyes locked to his, hands on his shoulders. 
There’s a different kind of intimacy to this, to looking you in the eyes and giving you the truth without obfuscation or embellishment. His first impulse is to look away, but he resists, keeping his gaze steady. Hands come to rest on your waist, a look of peace crossing your face at his touch. “With all my heart, Sunlight.” 
Lips press to his, fervent but not demanding of anything more. With a swift motion, he pulls you down into the blankets, causing you to gasp in surprise. “Astarion!” You try to sound exasperated, but sigh happily as he wraps himself around you. “I’m glad we talked about this, thank you.”
“I mean, I am incredible in every other way, of course I’m a wonderful partner. Now I believe I am owed one overly-sappy term of endearment or I’ll be deeply hurt.” 
“My Starry Sky.” The silly little nickname has a way of making everything inside him flutter somehow, but the way your voice was right now, soft and affectionate, warm, like a home he didn’t know he had, he’d die if you asked him too. Or at least strongly consider it. 
After pulling some of the scattered mess of covers over the two of you, lips brush yours one more time , and you tuck your head under his chin. Exactly where you belong. 
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In the Middle Of the Night🌙
-> Ao3 link is here.
-> Part One is here.
Pairings : Bi-Han/ Sub-Zero x You, Kuai Liang/ Scorpion x You, Tomas Vrbada/ Smoke x You
Author’s Note: Hey there everyone! First of all, I’m beyond excited by the interest you’ve shown in my fic. Thank you so much! I poured all my love into this chapter, and I’m incredibly proud of the result. This bad boy clocks in at over 10k words, so buckle up and enjoy the ride! Happy reading!
.
.
.
I summoned you, please come to me,
Don’t bury thoughts that you really want.
I fill you up, drink from my cup,
Within me lies what you really want.
CHAPTER TWO : TOMAS
Tomas had always harbored a discomfort with darkness.
One vivid childhood memory was the time he and his twin sister sneaked out of the house to fish by the creek. They had visited this place with their mother many times before, surrounded by tall grasses and dense trees lining the riverbanks. In addition to fishing, they splashed in the stream as the spring weather warmed the water, engaging in playful water fights and skipping stones. However, they had not anticipated the difficulty of finding their way home after nightfall. Time seemed to slip away unnoticed until the sun vanished, leaving behind only faint orange rays. Amidst the sounds of creatures in the dark and the dim moonlight, Tomas found himself more frightened than ever. Seeking refuge beneath the shelter of a towering oak tree, he and his twin waited anxiously for the morning light without daring to blink.
Another poignant memory was his first night after being adopted by the Lin Kuei following the tragic loss of his parents. Given a room of his own within the clan’s compound, it marked a stark contrast to the cramped quarter he shared with his sister at home—a small room with a cold-leaking window and a wooden floor that creaked with every step. Despite the spaciousness of his new accommodations, the room only served to accentuate his overwhelming sense of loneliness. Confusion, fear, and sorrow weighed heavily upon him, compounded by the haunting memories of his family’s demise. The image of his mother’s final gaze, the sound of her voice uttering his name as she drew her last breath, remained painfully fresh in Tomas’s mind. Standing alone in the darkness, he hesitated to emerge from the refuge of his hidden position, fearing the harsh reality that awaited him—a reality that felt more like a terrible nightmare than the truth.
Later that same night, Kuai Liang, the son of the grandmaster, whom Tomas had only glimpsed out of the corner of his eye and estimated to be a few years older than himself, sought him out. Tomas never expected anyone to visit his room, especially someone whose language, lifestyle, and appearance were so foreign to him. Despite being a complete stranger, Kuai Liang persisted in his efforts to communicate with him.
Over the years, Tomas had learned to leave the past behind and devote himself to the Lin Kuei with unwavering respect and loyalty. He seized every opportunity for growth, not limiting himself to combat training alone. In addition to mastering multiple languages, he immersed himself in various fields of knowledge, receiving specialized education ranging from geography to mathematics. Inspired by his brothers, Tomas aspired to become a formidable assassin, striving to emulate their strength and steadfastness. His determination to bridge the gap and prove himself led him to seek training in magic from clan elders. Before long, he mastered the art of smoke magic, earning his code name in the process.
As time passed, Tomas emerged as one of Lin Kuei’s most skilled assassins, earning the respect and admiration of his peers. Though differences still lingered between him and his brothers, they no longer served as barriers; instead, they became markers of individual experiences and growth. Tomas gained renown for his stealth and speed during missions, aided by his mastery of the smoke magic for concealment. Yet, he also understood the value of leveraging shadows for support. Through discipline and practice, he learned to embrace the darkness, transforming his fear into a potent weapon.
Until Quan Chi sealed him and his brothers inside the book…
Tomas couldn’t recall the last time he had been free. It must have been ages ago. While he had anticipated the relief of escaping, the reality proved disorienting. After spending so long confined within the book’s pages, reentering the world was akin to landing on an alien planet. Colors seemed brighter, sensations felt unfamiliar, and even the taste of things seemed strange.
It had only been a day or two since they emerged from the book’s depths. During that time, Tomas had been reluctant to close his eyes, fearing a return to the vast darkness that had engulfed him for so long. In the book, there was only emptiness—a void that left him disoriented and disconnected from time and reality. The experience had shattered his ability to cope with darkness; although it was bad to have a new master, he would prefer this situation to eternal darkness.
Inside the book, the only connection to the outside world was through sounds, which provided a vague sense of the passage of time. Now, sitting in the living room, an overwhelming surge of pent-up energy coursed through him. He longed to move, to run, to stretch his limbs freely. Yet, his heightened senses left him feeling overwhelmed by the outside world. It was as if everything had become too much to bear at once, triggering a cascade of emotions.
Such experiences were not uncommon when they remained dormant for extended periods. It took several days for them to readjust. Kuai Liang, in particular, struggled with the transition. His pyromancer abilities meant his metabolism was faster than both him and Bi-Han’s, making the initial days a nightmare as he grappled with an accumulation of pent-up energy. Bi-Han fared better in comparison, his cryomancer abilities allowing him to maintain control despite the prolonged dormancy.
“Are you all right?” Tomas inquired, glancing at his brother who sat a little distance away. Drops of sweat glistened on Kuai Liang’s forehead, his face flushed. His usually dark hair, kept in a bun, was now disheveled, with tufts of hair glued to his skin due to sweat. Despite his typically bronze skin, it appeared pale under the strain of his condition, a deep frown creased his brow, accentuating the thick veins that bulged on his neck from the tension of his clenched jaw. He spoke in a muffled voice, his fists tightly gripping the cushion beneath him.
“It’s more intense compared to the previous ones. It’s becoming increasingly difficult for me to cope.” Kuai Liang muttered, his voice strained.
“You should lie down on the sofa,” Tomas suggested, rising from his seat and closing the distance between them in an instant. “Standing like this isn’t good for you. Let me help.”
“I’m fine,” Kuai Liang insisted stubbornly, his words almost a hiss through clenched teeth. “It’ll pass soon.”
“We both know it’ll take a few days,” Tomas reasoned gently. “Come on, lie down and stop being so stubborn. You need to rest.”
“I’ve been inactive enough already from being trapped in that damn book.”
“And now you need to rest so your body can recover.”
“Is everything all right?” Your soft voice floated from the entrance of the room, drawing Tomas’s attention. You stood there in an old plush robe, your legs and feet bare beneath your long nightgown. The bandages he wrapped around your legs from the first night they emerged from the book still in place. Like him, your face was colorless, and the purple rings under your eyes betrayed the sleeplessness you shared with them.
“Kuai Liang?” Bi-Han’s sudden appearance next to you, like a dark, silent shadow, caused you to jump in place with a start. Tomas observed your startled reaction, your eyes reflecting fear at Bi-Han’s sudden presence. Since they emerged from the book, they had noticed your agitated demeanor and your constant efforts to maintain a clear distance from them. It was evident in every gesture that you had yet to adapt to the situation and were still struggling to accept what was happening.
As Bi-Han approached them with purposeful strides, he rested his hand on his brother’s forehead, from which a thin, cold smoke wafted. Upon contact, a sizzling sound filled the room as cold and heat met. Kuai Liang’s eyes closed with a slight sense of relief, his tense posture relaxing slightly. Bi-Han’s expression remained stern.
“You’re burning,” Bi-Han remarked, his dark gaze fixed on his brother. “How long has he been like this?”
“For about half an hour, he suddenly relapsed. When he insists on not resting—”
“Nonsense. We both know you’re not going to get through this without lying down somewhere, Kuai Liang. Don’t be stubborn and do as you’re told.”
“What’s going on?” You hesitantly approached them, your anxious eyes shifting between Kuai Liang, who was breathing rapidly and starting to sweat profusely, and the two brothers. “Is he ill?”
As Bi-Han gave you a piercing, stern look, you stumbled back a step. Tomas felt a surge of anger at his brother’s harsh demeanor. Bi-Han had always been somewhat rude and obstinate; as the grandmaster before being trapped in the book, he was accustomed to looking down on others, being condescending, and considering everyone except the Lin Kuei as worthless. This attitude had persisted over the years, even when they served various masters of the book.
Many masters had attempted to break his demeanor and relished in the opportunity, but when they realized Bi-Han could not be tamed, both he and Kuai Liang were held accountable for his actions. That was when Bi-Han had to learn to control his sharp tongue and condescending gaze. But when it comes to you, you seem different from the masters who came and went. You were an ordinary person, with neither unusual strength nor fighting skills to suggest you knew how to protect yourself.
Tomas had scrutinized you closely the first day he emerged from the book and quickly formed a profile. Your physique seemed too delicate to be that of a warrior, and your gaze exuded kindness and compassion. The fact that you didn’t assert any authority over them indicated you might be harmless. While he hesitated to fully embrace this belief, it often proved true when reality differed from their initial assumptions. This made Bi-Han’s treatment of you seem inappropriate and cruel.
“Kuai Liang is a pyromancer, master,” Tomas interjected, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled between them. “When he’s unable to release his power for an extended period, it accumulates inside him, causing sensory overload and physical strain.”
As Tomas explained in simpler terms, given your unfamiliarity with their world, another layer of concern clouded your expression.
“Oh, I see. That sounds truly awful. Does the same situation apply to you?”
Bi-Han had been on the verge of making a rude remark once again, but Tomas acted swiftly to prevent him from further upsetting you. “No, our powers and metabolic rates vary among us.”
“Then is there anything I can do for Kuai Liang? I have antipyretics and painkillers; perhaps they might help.”
“Are you daft, woman? We’re dealing with a man whose metabolism is four times faster than normal. Do you think mere drugs will affect him?”
“I-I just wanted to help.”
“You’d be of greater help by not interfering,”
The moment Bi-Han hurled the words at you with a tongue as sharp as a knife, Tomas watched you swallow silently and your eyes glistened with tears for a moment. His chest ached with a slight pain for you, whom he had never known; you stood so vulnerable and small in front of them. But you collected your composure quickly, surprising him, squaring your shoulders and lifting your head.
“He can sleep in my bed until he’s better. It’ll be more comfortable than the couch. Can you move him there?”
***
After they carried Kuai Liang to your room and Bi-Han pulled a chair next to him, settling in, Tomas returned to the living room with you.
“He hates me.” you muttered in a hoarse voice.
“He hates everyone.” Tomas replied, realizing you were referring to Bi-Han. With a pillow tucked under one arm and a not-too-thick, pink-purple patterned blanket in the other, you prepared the makeshift bed on the couch.
With a sigh, you settled onto the end of the couch, which Kuai Liang had been using as a bed for the past few days. While he and Kuai Liang shared the living room, Bi-Han had taken refuge in your study. Your house was quite small, and Tomas had initially doubted whether they could all fit in here.
“If I hadn’t been protected by the book, he would have torn me in half already, wouldn’t he?”
“It can’t be said that he gets along well with strangers,” Tomas replied politely. “He needs time, master.” As the last word slipped from his lips in the usual manner, he observed your gentle expression falter, your lips pressing together into a straight line. He knew you disliked being addressed that way, but after years of habit, it was difficult for him to remove it from his vocabulary. His body ached with a twinge of pain for disobeying your request once again—a never-ending side effect of the curse. They had to obey their masters unconditionally, and if they did not, and this situation persisted, their suffering increased exponentially.
“Tomas, please don’t call me that. I am not your master, and it makes me very uncomfortable every time you address me as such.”
“I’m sorry,” Tomas murmured in a low voice, avoiding your gaze as he stared out at the nighttime landscape of tall buildings and colorful lights beyond the window. “It’s just a habit.”
“There’s no need to apologize. I just want you to know that there are no distinct classes between us. We are equals.” You leaned back against the armrest, pulling your knees toward your stomach and wrapping your arms around yourself. “It’s very strange. I haven’t slept a wink since yesterday, and yet I still don’t feel like I can sleep.”
When Tomas turned his gaze back to you, he noticed your tired eyes staring into emptiness. He could imagine how surreal and overwhelming the unfolding events must have sounded from your perspective. Moreover, sharing your home with three unfamiliar, burly men, and constantly feeling on edge because of Bi-Han, must have added to your nerves.
“So do I.” Tomas replied after a moment, joining you. “I’ve been inside the book for so long that it’s hard to believe I’m out now.”
“If you don’t mind, may I ask how long you’ve been there?”
“What year is it?” He asked.
“Two thousand twenty-four.”
“Then it has been nearly two years since we last emerged.”
Your eyes widened in horror at his response.
“Two years? That’s terrible! What have you been doing all this time in the book? Is there any way you can pass the time?”
The question sounded so innocent to Tomas’s ears that he almost wanted to laugh. It was the first time he had encountered a master like you—a master who, despite having the power to use them as mere tools, condoned Bi-Han’s rude behavior and tried to create a small comfort zone to help Kuai Liang through the process. Even though you knew the power you held over them, you chose not to exploit it fully. If you had wanted to, you could have expelled Bi-Han, and even him and Kuai Liang, from your home. After all, they had no choice but to obey your orders if they wished to avoid excruciating pain.
They hadn’t revealed this detail to you yet, as it was too valuable and represented one of their greatest vulnerabilities. However, whether you were aware of this information or not didn’t change the truth. By opening your home to them and engaging in conversation with Tomas, you were trying to understand the situation despite the risks involved. He doubted every now and then, as you seemed so sincere. You cannot act all the time, can you? As he was a professional in reading people, he couldn’t be entirely sure about you.
“No, we can only wait until our new master reads the words in the book,” Tomas explained.
“How so?” Your eyes widened slightly. “Can’t you do anything?”
“No, except for waiting in the dark, we can only sometimes hear voices coming from outside the book. This helps us understand where we are, and sometimes even the year.”
“God, this is—this is so cruel… How have you been able to maintain your sanity until today? This is officially torture.”
He also pondered the answer to this question himself. If he had been sealed inside that book alone, Tomas doubted he would be capable of forming coherent sentences right now. It would be a miracle if he could even speak.
“My brothers… Without them, it would have been inevitable that I would have lost my mind,” he admitted through clenched teeth. “But sometimes even that is not enough. That’s why we pressured you to read the book when you found it.”
“I thought I was going to die of fear at that moment,” you confessed in a low voice, cheeks slightly flushed, as you turned away from him and focused on your clasped hands. “But I’m glad I made you get out of there after hearing what you’ve told me. I hope I can help you break this curse as well.”
Tomas remained silent, grappling with uncertainty about the sincerity of your words. They had encountered similar displays of kindness before. In the past, there was a master they believed to be compassionate and well-intentioned, who had convinced them to lower their guards and give their trust a chance. They had fallen for gentle touches, pleas instead of commands, sweet compliments, and precious gifts. Even Bi-Han, typically skeptical, had thought that previous master was different.
But they were mistaken. They soon discovered that everything she did was merely a facade to gain their trust and manipulate them, raising their hopes only to shatter them. They had sworn never to trust again after that betrayal. As long as they were trapped in the book, they would always have a master, and their relationships would remain purely transactional.
Tomas had learned the hard way not to put faith in anyone. So your words held little weight for him. Each of them represented a month, and when they returned to the book three months later, you would be out of their lives. It seemed foolish to invest in a bond for something that would soon disappear.
‘’Tomas? Are you okay? You’ve become quiet,” you asked, noticing his distant expression.
Hearing your voice, Tomas snapped out of his thoughts and looked at you. “I have a lot on my mind. My thoughts are too loud,” he confessed with a tight smile.
“I have a solution that might help. Since neither of us has had any sleep,” you suggested, rising from your seat and making your way to the kitchen, which was adjacent to the living room. Tomas felt a twinge of curiosity as he watched you move. ‘’I hope you like chocolate.’’
“What are you going to do?”
“Hot chocolate. Sweet things are always good for stress. I think we both need some relaxation and serotonin,” you explained, retrieving two mugs from the kitchen cabinet and placing them on the counter. As you continued to prepare the hot chocolate, you asked, “Do you want to watch a movie?”
Tomas repeated the question as if to confirm that he had heard you correctly. “A movie?”
“Yes,” you affirmed cheerfully, without glancing at him, as you arranged the ingredients on the counter. “I like to watch something on Netflix when I can’t sleep. It helps distract my mind.”
“Netflix?” Tomas queried, unfamiliar with the term. As you briefly explained what Netflix was, Tomas observed you moving around the kitchen with a sweet smile, pouring steaming hot chocolate into the mugs and adorning them with white toppings resembling candy. He was familiar with the concept of movies, but his upbringing with the Lin Kuei left little room for leisure activities, such as watching television or electronic devices. Thus, while he understood the concept of movies, he had never encountered anything related to them until now.
“We can watch something that won’t require too much thought,” you suggested as you placed the mugs on the coffee table in front of them. Retrieving your laptop from a nearby spot, you positioned it on your lap and adjusted the screen so that Tomas could see. “Here, you can browse the movies from here.”
Tomas curiously scanned through the films from various categories displayed on the screen. There were so many options that he found it difficult to decide which one to choose, unsure of what would be the right choice.
“How about action?” you proposed, attempting to assist him. Your understanding expression conveyed that you recognized his struggle to make a choice. “We could watch Johnny Cage’s movies. The Ninja Mime movie series is legendary! What do you think? If you don’t like it, we can explore other options, of course.”
When Tomas agreed, your smile grew, and you placed the laptop in the center of the coffee table for both of you to see. As you leaned down to switch off the nearby lamp, he impulsively reached out and grabbed your wrist, causing a small, sweet electric sensation to pass between them. You both shared a momentary pause, as if sensing something peculiar, and Tomas noticed the sound of your interrupted breathing. What the hell was that? Tomas had never felt anything like this before.
“Tomas? Is something wrong?” you asked, your concern evident in your voice.
Tomas tried to ignore the tender feeling as he quickly released your wrist, as if it had burned him. Despite facing numerous sorcerers and warriors without fear, you, with your delicate demeanor, seemed more fragile to him, easily susceptible to harm even without the protection of the book.
“Could the light stay on?” he requested hoarsely, instantly noticing the understanding in your eyes, realizing the underlying reason for his question.
“Of course. Is it alright if we share the seat until the movie ends? There’s no other way for me to see the screen.”
Tomas found it strange that you asked, considering it was your home. You didn’t need his permission to use your own belongings.
“This is already your couch.” Tomas replied, showing his confusion.
“You’re also my guest. I want you to feel comfortable, not like you’re on edge,” you explained. Surprised by your response, Tomas nodded in agreement instead of verbally responding. “Great! Then I’ll start the movie. Come on, start drinking the hot chocolate before it gets cold. Your marshmallows are about to melt.”
Following your instructions, Tomas picked up a yellowish-white ceramic mug with daisy and bee patterns and took a sip of the steaming, incredibly fragrant drink. The sweet liquid danced on his taste buds, flooding his mouth with an unparalleled delight. It had been an eternity since he had savored something so delicious and sweet, a rare treat that he hadn’t experienced in years. Closing his eyes in bliss, he relished every moment of it.
“Do you like it?”
“I love it,” Tomas replied honestly.
“Really?” Your face lit up with a huge, almost radiant smile, and Tomas once again felt that sweet ache in his chest, far from painful. “I’m glad to hear that! If you want more, don’t hesitate to tell me. I still have plenty of chocolates in the cupboard.”
After your words, when the movie started, Tomas watched you eagerly settle on the end of the seat and sip your hot chocolate out of the corner of his eye. Despite the seat not being too large, there was a noticeable distance between you; someone thinner could have squeezed in between with a little effort. Although Tomas still couldn’t quite decipher your intentions, he turned his attention to the film after stealing a few glances at you, and slowly felt his troubled thoughts quiet down, his overly active senses beginning to relax.
Settling more comfortably on the couch, he took another sip of the hot chocolate you had made. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something like this for him. Usually, the situation would be the opposite—he would serve someone, fulfilling their wishes and desires. Now, it felt strange and unfamiliar to him to drink the beverage you had offered without expecting anything in return, as if you would later chastise him for such naivety. However, that never happened. Instead, you were completely engrossed in the film, occasionally giggling at the jokes inaudibly. Your smile, perhaps even sweeter than the hot chocolate he was drinking, had a warmth that made one want to hear your voice again.
Despite being occasionally distracted by your voice, Tomas found himself unexpectedly enjoying the movie. The action scenes were realistic, the jokes humorous, and the flow of the film simple yet intriguing. During one of the fight scenes, Tomas mumbled, “He fights well.”
“Isn’t he? He’s also a master of martial arts. All of these scenes were shot without the use of stunts. That’s why I have a lot of respect for the work he does. He’s one of the few actors I’d like to meet.” you remarked as you popped a half-melted marshmallow into your mouth, causing Tomas to watch your soft lips open and close on your fingers. He felt a warmth again, but this time it was burning and dangerous rather than sweet. He shifted in his seat as if trying to shake off the feeling.
“Do you want to watch the second one too?” you asked after finishing chewing. Tomas responded in a muffled voice. “I can’t deny that I’m interested.”
“Wonderful! I’ll refresh our drinks then. Wait here, I’ll be right back.”
Tomas rose once more, feeling uneasy about being served by you again, as you asked nothing of him. As he approached, you were just about to open the milk lid when you looked up, meeting his gaze with inquisitive eyes.
“Did you want something?”
“Tell me what I should do, please,” Tomas said through clenched teeth. How long would you leave him in this state of uncertainty, without giving him any orders? This unfamiliarity, persisting for days, was making him nervous. It was vastly different from the structured system he was accustomed to.
“I am not your master, Tomas,” you responded calmly, looking into his eyes, your voice gentle yet firm. “You are your own person. I will not give you orders, neither now nor later.”
“This is wrong,” Tomas said akin to a snarl, his voice sounding foreign even to himself. Even before an assassin, he was a hunter, and now, he felt more trapped than ever as he still couldn’t grapple with your rules. Do you even have rules? “Something is always expected.”
“This situation doesn’t apply here. I can see that you don’t trust and believe in me, and I don’t blame you for that,” you said, your face filled with a sadness Tomas couldn’t comprehend, your gaze softening even further. “Tomas, please try to believe that I’m sincere in what I’m saying. I do not demand anything from you, and I will not. You are free to act as you want, make your own decisions and choices.”
“Why?” Tomas questioned.
Why were you being so kind?
“Because it’s the right and humane thing to do,” you said simply, without hesitation. Then, you turned your attention to the task at hand. “Now, how many marshmallows do you want? I think I can put at least six on top.”
Did you realize the power you held in your hands? A word from you could compel action. But it seemed like you didn’t even care about this power; instead, you focused on trivial details about the second movie you were going to watch.
Once you had assembled a small mountain of marshmallows on the mug and handed it to him, Tomas accepted it in silence and settled back into the seat with you to resume the movie. He felt oddly content in a way. Though part of him still awaited the unveiling of the mask he thought you wore, he found some solace in the simplicity and normalcy of the current situation. Even though he had forgotten what it felt like, experiencing it again now stirred a mix of emotions within him, difficult to define.
While watching the movie, it was your harmless chats that occasionally provided small pieces of information about the actor or the movie, though it usually remained one-sided. Tomas lost track of how many movies you watched that night, ceasing to count after the second film. As soft yellow lights appeared and the sky began to brighten, he realized that an entire night had passed watching movies. Stretching his muscles, which had stiffened from remaining in the same position for so long, he turned his neck from right to left. When he glanced back at you, he saw that you were quietly curled up in your corner, fast asleep.
You had your arms crossed over the armrest of the chair, using them as a makeshift pillow for your head. Your mouth was slightly ajar, and the gentle rise and fall of your chest indicated deep sleep. Bathed in the morning sunlight, a peaceful expression graced your face.Tomas felt relieved watching you, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, akin to lying on a calm sea.
On one hand, he was surprised that you felt comfortable enough to sleep next to him. You likely couldn’t resist the fatigue any longer and succumbed to it. Tomas couldn’t help but notice how vulnerable you looked, despite not wanting to admit it. You appeared delicate enough to be easily hurt.
Careful not to disturb you, Tomas pulled a blanket up to your shoulders, ensuring you were completely covered. As he did so, Bi-Han appeared at the entrance of the living room, his expression as cold and discontented as ever.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Bi-Han demanded.
“You’ll wake her up,” Said Tomas, in a voice that sounded like a whisper, slightly scolding. Carefully getting up from where he was sitting, he made his way to his brother’s side, his shoulders tense and his posture upright. He changed the subject directly, not allowing Bi-Han to scold him further. “How is Kuai Liang?”
“It’s bad, but he’ll pull through. He’s unconscious right now; I don’t think he’ll wake up for a while.”
“It’s the first time I’ve seen him this bad.”
“We stayed in the book for too long this time,” Bi-Han growled hoarsely, his voice tinged with wildness. Clenching his fists at his sides, his eyebrows furrowed deeply, and his gaze darkened. Tomas could feel the cold emanating from him, chilling his skin like a winter wind. “This cramped place is suffocating me. I’m going out to explore. Take care of Kuai Liang.”
As Bi-Han stormed out of the house without waiting for a reply, Tomas sighed and headed for the room where Kuai Liang was staying, ignoring his weary eyes due to insomnia. Opening the door slightly, he peered inside and saw his brother lying motionless on the bed. Stepping into the room and closing the door quitely behind him, Tomas prepared to tend to his brother.
Although he felt a twinge of guilt for intruding into your private space by entering your bedroom, Tomas didn’t dwell on it much, knowing that you had opened this place up for their use like any other part of the house. After opening the window to let in some fresh air, Tomas couldn’t resist looking around curiously. Your room, like the rest of the house, was small, with a closet and a standing mirror in one corner, and a bookcase filled to the brim with books and pictures scattered haphazardly on the shelves in another corner.
Approaching the bookcase, Tomas found some books filled with confusing information about computers and programming, which he couldn’t quite comprehend. Was this your interest? After glancing at a few of them, his attention was drawn to the photos. Some were framed, while others were hung around the shelves with wicker ropes. The photos depicted people with wide, friendly smiles, along with various landscapes. In the photos, you appeared pleasant, happy, and cheerful, almost laughing in the eyes.
Tomas frowned slightly as he picked up a frame that caught his attention. He hadn’t seen such an expression on your face since they came out of the book; instead, you seemed agitated, with traces of fear in your eyes. He wished he could see you with that same expression from the photos; laughing seemed to suit you, exuding a pure aura that inspired trust. Maybe you truly were like the person in the photos… maybe—
Shaking his head, Tomas tried to dispel the thoughts and returned the frame to its place. He then sat on the chair pulled to the right side of the bed and looked at Kuai Liang. His brother looked worse than he had ever seen him before—his bronze face even paler than the day before, sweat glistening on his skin, chest heaving with rapid breaths, and a contracted expression indicating distress.
Tomas changed the cloth on Kuai Liang’s forehead and listened to his audible breathing, occasionally wheezing softly. Though he wished he could offer his brother some relief, there was little they could do in such circumstances. Kuai Liang had to fight this battle alone and regain control. Tomas watched him for a long time, his hand resting on his chin as he became lost in thought.
It was the sounds emanating from the kitchen that snapped him out of his reverie. Thinking that Bi-Han might have returned, he left the room and found you sipping coffee while cooking something on the stove. When you noticed his presence, you turned around, raising the mug in your hand with a sincere smile as you greeted him.
“Good morning. Did you get any sleep?”
“Not really,” Tomas admitted.
The smile on your face faltered slightly. “Hmm, so the movies didn’t do the trick. Fortunately, I have more remedies up my sleeve. I bought some herbal teas and aromatherapy candles a while ago. We can give them a try tonight,” you suggested with a cheerful tone, taking another sip of your coffee. Before returning to your cooking, you asked curiously. “How is your brother?”
“He’s sleeping. He’s not well, but he’s a strong and stubborn man. I’m sure he’ll recover soon,” Tomas replied.
“I’m glad to hear that. Bi-Han didn’t want me to help, but I made some porridge for Kuai Liang. I hope he won’t be upset with me. Of course, if you think he will be, we can keep it between us. Eating can be difficult when you’re sick, so I thought some comfort food might help him,” you explained, gesturing to the pot on the stove. “I’ve also prepared something for you. Have a seat. You drink coffee, right?”
Once again surprised by your thoughtfulness, Tomas couldn’t tear his gaze away from you as you served him pancakes smothered with a generous amount of maple syrup, a plate of perfectly crisped bacon and eggs cooked to perfection, and a steaming mug of coffee, its aroma wafting through the air and tantalizing his senses.
“Is Bi-Han awake too? I saved some for him.”
“He went out to explore. I don’t think he’ll be back before noon,” Tomas replied, still eyeing the food before him, unsure of where to start. Despite knowing he could eat without waiting for your command, it was difficult to break the years-long habit of awaiting orders. You must have noticed this detail, as you called out to him in a soft voice.
“You should eat before it gets cold, Tomas. You may not enjoy it as much later,” you said gently.
Tomas, relieved, filled his fork with food and began to eat his breakfast with great pleasure, savoring each piece slowly as it settled warmly in his stomach. As he ate, he noticed you quietly watching him while sipping your coffee from the bench you leaned against.
“I hope I didn’t burn the egg,” you remarked after a while. Tomas shook his head, indicating ‘No’ since his mouth was full. After a sip of coffee, he managed to give a straight answer.
“Everything is quite delicious, maste—thank you.” he said, correcting himself at the last moment. A warm smile settled on your face, exposing your teeth, reminiscent of the photos he had seen. Despite your simple appearance in a loosely tied robe and a nightgown, you radiated natural beauty and warmth, filling Tomas with a sense of comfort he hadn’t dared to believe.
“I’m glad to hear that,” you chirped like a bird. “Because I almost burned it while I was taking care of the porridge. I kept breakfast simple since I wasn’t sure what you liked.’’ While taking another sip of coffee, you sat down a little further away, collapsing into one of the chairs placed around the kitchen island. “There is a local library very close to here. I have to stop by there for half an hour. There are some books I want to look at. Do you want to come with me? I think coming out after being in the book will make you feel better.”
Tomas’ body immediately contracted with tension, almost instinctively. He was curious about how much the outside world had changed, but on the one hand, he was not ready to encounter innovations, re-enter among people, noise, and much more. His senses were still at a hyper level, and that fidgety feeling swirling inside him had not calmed down yet.
“Perhaps some other time. Besides, I don’t want to leave Kuai Liang alone like this,” Tomas replied.
“Oh, you’re right. It was a rude question on my part,” you admitted, taking another sip of your coffee before looking at Tomas with curious yet deceptive eyes. Tomas met your gaze and asked after swallowing the food in his mouth, “You want to ask something, am I right?”
“There’s just one thing I’m curious about. But I don’t think it’s right to ask.”
One edge of Tomas’s lip curled upwards; he was starting to like the way you were approaching more and more. You were treating him like a human being rather than an object, and he’d forgotten how that made him feel.
‘’You can ask, it’s okay,’’ he encouraged.
‘’Your hair… Is this your original color?’’
An unexpected chuckle spilled from Tomas’ lips. It seemed funny and innocent enough to make his heart ache that you chose this when there were tons of questions you could ask.
‘‘No, it’s that color because of the smoke magic. Its previous color was brown.’’
‘’Smoke magic? Do you have the power like the others?’’
“Yes.’’
You took a breath with excitement; Tomas could have sworn your eyes were shining.
‘‘Will you show it to me?’’
Tomas let go of the mug he was holding with another smirk that he couldn’t stop, and thanks to the thin, gray cloud of smoke rising from his fingers, he made the mug float in the air. While your eyes opened wide, you took a sharp breath and stared at the floating mug in amazement, and Tomas took great pleasure in watching your reaction.
‘’This is incredible! What else can you do?’’
‘’I can be invisible.’’
‘’No way!’’ You said it in an incredulous voice. Tomas raised an eyebrow, gave you a sarcastic look, and then made his body invisible, watching you keep your mouth open with amazement. Your reaction was so sweet that Tomas laughed out loud this time, and when he made his body visible again, you looked at him with big eyes for a few seconds as if he had grown out a second head.
‘‘That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. You’re incredible!’’ Against your obvious compliment, Tomas’s heart misfired once again, and he felt his cheeks getting hot. Not knowing what to say, as you kept talking excitedly, he squeezed a big mouthful morsel in his mouth before saying something ridiculous. ‘‘It must be great to have such a talent. You can even go to North Korea without anyone hearing a sound.’’
Tomas barely swallowed the morsel in his mouth and looked at you with a manner that showed he didn’t understand why you could want such a thing.
‘‘Why would you want to go there?’’
‘‘Out of curiosity, of course.’’ After giving him a little look with your flushed cheeks, you cleared your throat with an artificial cough. ‘’There’s something else I’m curious about.’’
‘’Are you going to ask why I don’t resemble my brothers in appearance?’’
‘’No, actually, I was going to ask why Kuai Liang said ‘Earthrealm’ that night. The other one is a personal question; it wouldn’t be right for me to ask you to explain.’’
Even so, when you were talking to him like that, Tomas felt the need to explain to you. He decided to sit back in his chair and calmly tell you everything from the beginning, so that he could make you understand the world you’ve fallen into a little better and make sense of it, maybe so that you could also start feeling safer around them. After all, you were going to be together for three months, and no one knew better than him how exhausting it was to be constantly on edge, both physically and mentally.
‘‘I am not their brother by blood; I am adopted,’’ Tomas said simply. ‘’Before I became a part of Lin Kuei, I had my mother and twin sister; we were hunters. We made our living by selling the meat and fur of the animals we hunted, until one day we hunted in the wrong territory. There was an accident.’’ As Tomas slowly began to tell you about his life, he was surprised at how easily the words fell from his lips. Normally, he was a closed box to someone he didn’t know; he wouldn’t open his past easily, but something in you was preventing him from doing so.
‘‘I am so sorry for your loss.’’ It was impossible not to hear the sadness and sincerity in your voice; your gaze had an expression that showed that you were really sorry for his loss. One hand was hesitantly raised, then Tomas did not pull or push his hand away when you placed your hand on his hand, quite delicately, indicating that he could easily get out of your grip if he wanted to. Your touch defined you; it was warm and reassuring, and it also made him realize how much he really needed it.
‘‘Thank you,’’ said Tomas, involuntarily. With his thumb, he gently stroked the top of your hand as a token of his gratitude. When he started to retell where he left off, you were listening to him with great attention. You didn’t interrupt for once; your facial expression was lit up with a warm expression, sometimes sad, sometimes showing that you were proud of his achievements. After briefly mentioning his past, when he came to the question you asked, he actually mentioned that there is more than one world, the details of Lin Kuei’s purpose, creature from other worlds, and gods. While listening to what you were saying with great interest, Tomas was starting to enjoy watching your expression more and more.
"It turns out that I've been sleeping under a rock all this time.’’ You said, gasping in amazement. ‘’So you're superheroes, are you?’’
Tomas chuckled at your comparison.
‘’It was an overly generous comparison. It would be more accurate to say protector than superhero; we served under the orders of Lord Liu Kang to protect Earthrealm from external dangers.’’
“Lord Liu Kang… He was the one who was the Fire God, wasn’t he?’’
‘‘Yes, that’s him.’’
‘’I can’t believe it, God, huh?” You were like a little girl sitting on the edge of a chair, warmed up with excitement, cheeks flushed as if you held a huge candy in your hand. ‘‘No wonder Bi-Han got mad at me when I accidentally branded you as blood lust murderers. After what you said, my own life suddenly seemed very… simple.’’
Tomas reached for his now cold coffee, hiding his laughter. ‘’I’d like to hear it.’’ He said, trusting in the small, fragile bond established between you through the conversation.
‘’Well, what I’m going to tell you may not sound as cool as yours. I graduated from the software engineering department last year, I was working as a programmer at a game company until a few days ago, but I lost the job.’’
‘‘I’m sorry to hear that.’’ Tomas said in a genuine voice. You shrugged your shoulders as if it were all right, but your face had fallen a little, revealing what was going through your mind.
‘‘Don’t worry, I wasn’t happy working there anyway, it was more about making money. Actually, my dream is to one day secure a partnership with one of the big companies by releasing my own game, but when you face the real world, you realize it’s not that simple. No one wants to partner with a novice; someone without a background. Plus, I haven’t found any inspiration for my so-called game yet anyway.’’
Leaning one hand on your chin, your face fell with a mix of unhappiness and a hint of pessimism. Tomas felt a strong need to console you and put a smile back on your face.
‘‘It doesn’t sound impossible.’’ He said with a smile. ‘’Besides, it’s their loss that they’ve lost a talented woman like you.’’
Watching your cheeks flush with his compliment filled Tomas with pride and an irresistible desire for more. As you shyly murmured a small ‘’Thank you’’, Tomas heard the front door open. While his body reflexively tensed, his muscles were ready and alert until he saw who was coming.
When Bi-Han’s imposing body appeared at the entrance, you stood up, moving before him.
‘’Bi-Han! Welcome, we were having breakfast. Are you hungry? I’ve saved something for you too.’’
‘’I’m none of your concern.’’ Bi-Han’s words cut yours short, and within seconds, the smile vanished from your face, shattering the warmth Tomas had worked to foster, and you retreated into your former guarded and distant demeanor. ‘’I remember I told you to take care of Kuai Liang.’’
‘‘His condition hasn’t changed since you left, brother.’’ Tomas responded in kind, his words adding to the escalating tension between them. Sensing the growing unease, you delicately cleared your throat, subtly redirecting both their attention.
‘’I’d better go to the library, as always you can use the things in the house as you like. Tomas, if you want to watch something on Netflix, please don’t hesitate to use it.’’ With your head bowed, you left the room after finishing your words quietly, leaving Tomas and Bi-Han alone.
Tomas ended up near Bi-Han, taking a hard breath. ‘’Why are you acting like this? She’s done nothing but help us so far.’’
‘’And did you believe it?’’ Bi-Han’s voice was thick and authoritative, sounding incredibly deep. “You’re still very naive, Tomas.’’
‘’If you can’t choose your words carefully, can’t you at least pay a little more attention to your intonation? You’re scaring her.’’
‘’And why should I care? As long as the book exists, there will always be a master, and that woman is no different from the others. You have to understand, Tomas, it would just be foolish to trust anyone but each other, especially when you have such tremendous power in your hands. Don’t get your hopes up.’’
Tomas wanted to oppose him, but unfortunately, although Bi-Han spoke with his usual brutality, he was right on one point; as long as the master-slave relationship existed, it carried a power that could easily deconstruct the delicate trust established despite everything. An order that would come out of one’s lips was enough to take away their consent.
After Tomas stayed silent, Bi-Han approached him, his intense gaze lingering for a moment before shifting to the food simmering on the stove.
‘’What is this?’’ Opening the lid curiously, he looked at what was inside. ‘’Did you do it?’’
‘’No, she prepared the porridge so that Kuai Liang could eat comfortably.’’
With his answer, one of the muscles in Bi-Han’s jaw twitched.
‘’I told her to not interfere.’’
‘’She may not be the person we thought, Bi-Han.’’ Said Tomas, there was an opposition in his voice that he didn’t understand where it was coming from. ‘’Tell me, which master has prepared breakfast or something similar for us before?’’
‘’Stop calling them masters!’’ Although Bi-Han turned to him angrily with furious eyes and stood in front of him as if he were a mountain of intimidation, Tomas did not allow him to intimidate him. He wanted him to hear what he was thinking.
‘’I’m not saying we should trust her, but you know as well as I do that she hasn’t done anything to deserve your cruel approach so far. She wants us to be comfortable in his house, she even gave Kuai Liang her bedroom, just to help him in the healing process. She tried to set us free the very first moment we came out of the book-‘’
‘’This is not the first time we have encountered this situation.’’ Bi-Han interjected once again. “At some point, she’ll be compelled to give us orders. I wonder if you’ll still defend her then.”
***
It’s been a few hours since you returned from the library. Throughout your time there, you remained engrossed in the books you brought back, occasionally scribbling something in your notebook and muttering to yourself. Finally, Tomas approached, more curious about your activities than the movie he was watching. When you lifted your head from among the books at his approach, you asked, ‘’The movie didn’t catch your attention?’’
‘’Frankly, I was more interested in what you were doing. You’ve been sitting there for hours, doesn’t your neck hurt?’’
As you tested his words by moving your neck, a hint of pain crossed your face, accompanied by a soft whimper. ‘’Ouch, you were right. My neck is terribly stiff.’’
Offering to help, Tomas raised his hands in the air, gesturing to massage your neck. ‘’If you want?’’
‘’If it’s all right with you, please,’’ you responded, your voice a blend of shyness and gratitude. As Tomas took his place behind you and began massaging your shoulders and neck, he felt a strange electric current once again. Your skin felt soft and tender between his calloused fingers, and he couldn’t help but notice the clean and beautiful scent emanating from you, enveloping him in a sweet warmth. Slowly, your stiffened body began to unravel and relax under his touch. Curious about your reading material, Tomas inquired, ‘‘May I ask what you are reading?’
‘‘I’m doing research. These books contain a ton of information about witchcraft, spells, and curses. I thought maybe there might be some useful information in it for your situation.’’
‘’Have you been looking at these for hours?’’ Tomas asked incredulously.
With a simple ‘’Yes,’’ you innocently confirmed. As Tomas watched you turn another page, he felt a familiar ache in his heart. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was for understanding and kindness. Every movement, every word, every soft look and smile you shared seemed to weave into Tomas’ soul, confirming his growing certainty that you were unlike anyone he had ever met before.
‘’You must be tired, thank you, Tomas, that’s enough,’’ When you spoke from the book without raising your head, Tomas reluctantly withdrew his hands, even though he didn’t want to. Touching you like this felt nice; it was a rare sensation to interact with another body of his own accord, free from orders. Moreover, it was confined to a simple touch without fulfilling desires, a sensation he had almost forgotten. It also made him feel powerful, as it was an action he took by his own decision, highlighting the profound impact of a simple gesture on him.
“May I accompany you?” Tomas asked.
“Of course, you don’t even need to ask. You can look at whatever you want, and if you want to have a drink, you know where they are,” you replied, smiling at him. Tomas opted to brew herbal tea for the both of them. He carefully poured the freshly boiled water into two mugs before selecting green tea bags to steep in each one. As he settled next to you, he glanced at what you had written.
“Have you found anything yet?”
“To be honest, not really,” you admitted, reaching for the mug he offered. With a sigh, you glanced wearily over the open books. “Salt baths, incense, and natural stones have been mentioned, but these seem more for balancing energy. I haven’t come across anything about how to deal with black magic yet.”
“Don’t push yourself for our sake.”
“What? What do you mean?” You looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, a slight hint of frustration in your expression, urging him to explain.
“The demon who cursed us, Quan Chi, is a master of black magic and is cruel as well. You’re not the first person to promise to help us; I’ve seen this scenario before. I don’t think the solution is found in these books, so you shouldn’t burden yourself too much searching for answers you may not find. Our past attempts to break the curse only led to more suffering, it only led to disappointment and despair.”
Your eyebrows furrowed further in response, and though your expression darkened, your eyes betrayed a hurt that softened your features.
“I can understand why you’re hesitant to trust given your past experiences, and it infuriates me to think that others have exploited you in this way.’’ you asserted, your tone tinged with emotion. ‘’While the solution may not be found in these books, we won’t know unless we try, Tomas. I refuse to simply stand by and watch as time slips away and you’re forced back into that book. Our paths have crossed for some reason, and I will help you as much as my means allow. I understand that trusting again is daunting, even frightening, but I’m asking you to give it a chance.”
‘Only a fool would hope,’ Bi-Han’s words from years ago echoed in Tomas’s mind. It was easier to believe that you were playing some kind of game than to trust. But, on the other hand, it was undeniable that there was a hint of truth in your words. If you had a different purpose, you wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble or greeted Bi-Han’s rude words with silence. Even though you knew the power you had over them, you were always careful about the words you used, afraid to abuse it and put them in a difficult situation. Tomas didn’t want to make the same mistake again. He had been in that book for ten years and had seen and experienced a lot. He could navigate the familiar order, knowing the rules and what to expect. But this situation was different.
Maybe after a few days, you would change your mind and want to take advantage of this opportunity that fell into your lap. You might be overwhelmed while searching for a solution, realizing it wasn’t a problem you had to solve, or you might grow tired of them invading your home. The possibilities were endless. Despite this, Tomas still didn’t know what would be left of himself if he chose to trust again, only for it to end badly.
“Tomas?” Your soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and he met your worried gaze. “Are you all right? If what I said made you feel uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”
Your words, whispered gently, stirred the dilemma Tomas found himself in. It was too early for him to make a decision, as he didn’t even know you properly. Yet, there was a part of him that wanted to believe in you. Despite all the challenges he had faced, you were the first master he wanted to give a chance to after all these years. But he avoided saying it, not wanting to give you the power to manipulate him. As much as he wanted to give you a chance, the part of him that longed to escape from this situation and the complex emotions you evoked in him was more dominant.
“I’m fine, it’s okay,” Tomas replied, brushing off your concern. “I want to take a look at this book.”
As Tomas changed the subject and reached for one of the books in front of him, you eyed him one more time then resumed your reading quietly, allowing him the space to process his thoughts.
A serene silence enveloped the room, punctuated only by the rain outside tapping against the window, the gentle rustling of paper, and the occasional exchange of words between you. Tomas found himself once again enveloped in the same sense of peace he had felt while watching the movie with you last night. It was a rare feeling, one that he hadn’t experienced since being sealed within the book—time spent according to his own will, without orders or prohibitions.
As you sat back after having a snack and took a deep breath, Tomas’s attention was drawn to you like a magnet. Although he had been pretending to focus on the books in front of him, he found himself increasingly intrigued by observing you. Your facial expressions were as transparent as the pages of the books, and Tomas couldn’t help but watch you intently, captivated by your every movement and expression.
“It’s getting late,” you remarked with a tired smile, stifling a yawn with the back of your hand. “Are you feeling sleepy yet?”
“Not really,” Tomas replied honestly, though the idea of closing his eyes lingered in the corner of his mind. Despite having spent close to two years inside the book and therefore doing nothing, he couldn’t shake off the effects of insomnia. Trained to be a perfect assassin, he was accustomed to enduring extreme challenges beyond those faced by ordinary human. However, beneath the facade of strength and resilience, he was still human and had basic needs like everyone else. This included the need for sleep, a fundamental requirement that even his demanding training couldn’t negate.
“We could try lighting these candles, what do you think?” you suggested gently. “I also have another idea that might help, but we need to move to the couch for it.”
“I’m fine here, thank you,” Tomas replied, his voice betraying a hint of tension. You glanced at him, as if trying to discern what was bothering him, and placed a hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. Tomas felt his resistance waver at the contact, the part of him that craved connection stirring to life once again.
“Let’s give it a try, and if it doesn’t work, I promise not to insist.” you said softly.
Tomas wanted to refuse your offer, but he couldn’t resist your comforting smile and reassuring words any longer. “Alright,” With a sigh, he rose from his chair and settled into a corner of the couch, while you searched for candles in the room. As you lit a candle and placed it on the coffee table, dimming the other lights, Tomas’s body tensed instinctively.
“The smell will spread soon—Tomas?” Though he felt your weight settle into the seat beside him, Tomas couldn’t bring himself to turn and look at you. His eyes scanned every dimly lit corner of the room, searching for the perfect escape route. His muscles were tense, rendering him immobile like a statue, and his breath seemed to freeze in his lungs, causing his chest to barely rise and fall. His hunter instincts stirred to life, hazy with the need to survive, to prevent shadows from drawing near him as if they harbored fatal threats. Memories of his days as a hunter flickered in his mind, images of tracking prey through dense forests and navigating treacherous terrain. It was a life defined by instinct and survival, skills honed through years of relentless pursuit. Even now, those instincts remained sharp, guiding his every move in this unfamiliar setting.
“Tomas, what’s wrong?” you asked, concern evident in your voice.
“It’s dark,” Tomas managed to utter, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t like the darkness. It reminds me of the time I spent in the book.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I completely forgot! Just wait here, I’ll take care of it right away.” you responded, moving to get up. But Tomas stopped you abruptly, his fingers closing around your wrist with an iron grip. Though his hold may have been too tight, he felt powerless to loosen it, trapped in the conflict between fight or flight. His muscles tensed like coiled springs, his focus hazy with panic, aggravated and feeling more vulnerable than ever his instincts screaming at him to do something.
“Don’t go,” Tomas said, surprised at how foreign and commanding his own voice sounded. Though he intended it as a request, it came out more like an order. His voice was hoarse and strained, and he wasn’t even sure if you could hear him clearly.
“Okay, okay, I’m not going anywhere,” you assured him calmly, radiating a confidence that suggested you knew exactly what to do. “Tomas, it’s okay. Look at me.”
Your words cut through his panicked mind like a knife, and though his body remained tense, he obeyed, attempting to slow his breathing and regain his focus.
“Tomas,” you said softly, placing a hand on his cheek. He flinched at first, his body tensed more than before, ready to strike. If the circumstances had been different and he had seen you as a threat, he would have already broken your wrist because of this move. But you were no threat; your touch brought an unexpected sense of relief, like a balm to his frayed nerves. “Come on, turn your face to me. It’s okay.”
Though your hand rested gently on his cheek, you exerted no pressure, leaving the choice entirely up to Tomas. Slowly, hesitantly, he turned his head to face you, meeting your warm smile.
“That’s it, you’re safe. They’re just shadows. There’s no one here who can hurt you,” you reassured him, stroking his cheek gently. As he gazed into your soft, comforting eyes, Tomas felt the urge to fight slowly ebb away under your touch and gaze.
Along with your soothing words, Tomas allowed himself to be guided, feeling as though he were a stuffed rag doll after the sudden surge of adrenaline. His head came to rest on your legs, though he couldn’t quite decipher how he had ended up in this position. His muscles felt heavy, as if he were underwater, and his senses dulled, making it difficult to perceive movements and even more so to choose your words. All he could do was inhale the subtle scent of chamomile emanating from the candle and focus on the sensation your fingers created on his skin.
“It’s okay… Tomas… You won’t get hurt again… I’m here, I’ll keep you safe…” you murmured softly. Tomas wanted to laugh at your words, which he could only catch in pieces. How could you shield them? You had no power or ability, yet, your expression of wanting to safeguard these men, twice your size and skilled in taking lives, stirred something within Tomas. Despite the lingering adrenaline, he felt a wave of calmness wash over him, like a gentle ray of light caressing him. He found himself leaning into your touch, seeking comfort in the gentle caress of your fingers against his hair. Truly, you were unlike anyone he had ever met before, and it would be unfair to pretend otherwise.
As you gently stroked his hair, Tomas felt his body grow heavier, his eyelids drooping halfway. Despite a wave of panic at feeling so powerless and vulnerable, your words reassured him.
“I’m here, and I’ll be here when you wake up. Don’t worry, Tomas. You’re safe. You’re not in the book. You’re here in my house, next to me. Can you feel my touch?”
As your fingers continued to run through his short hair, Tomas succumbed to the weight pressing down on him, feeling as though he were being completely submerged underwater. His body went lax, not even having the power to lift a finger. Every muscle seemed to surrender to the fatigue, and he found himself unable to muster the slightest resistance. With a gasp, his eyes closed, enveloping him in the darkness of his own exhaustion.
***
When the light hit Tomas’s face, he initially frowned and attempted to shield his eyes by turning his head to the side. However, as the light persisted, his eyebrows furrowed even more, and a displeased expression formed on his lips. In response, a sweet giggle reached his ears, prompting him to open his eyes quickly. There, he was met with your image, and for a moment, he simply stared at you like a fool. Your greeting, delivered in a calm and soft voice reminiscent of the morning sun, warmed him from within.
“Good morning,” you said with a kind smile. “Did you sleep well?”
Confusion clouded Tomas’s mind. Sleep? Did he really sleep last night? He remembered his body aching but couldn’t recall falling asleep, his mind retracing the events of the previous night. The last thing he remembered was the delicate sensation of your fingers in his hair. Still resting his head on your lap, Tomas’s cheeks warmed as he managed a small “Yes,” filled with disbelief. Your smile widened at his response.
“I’m glad to hear that,” you replied. With your hand still resting gently among his short silver hair, Tomas marveled at how natural the moment felt. Your presence brought him peace, as if you had always been there just waiting for him to find it, and there was something undeniably addictive about it. It was as though the chaos and uncertainty of his past had been momentarily suspended, replaced by a soothing tranquility he had longed for without even realizing it. In your company, the weight of his past seemed to lift, leaving behind a sense of clarity and hope that he hadn’t felt in years. For the first time in a long while, Tomas allowed himself to simply be, basking in the warmth of your touch and the serenity of the moment.
“You didn’t sleep?” he asked.
“No, I stayed awake because I was worried about you having another attack,” you confessed.
As Tomas’s cheeks flushed with shame, your unwavering concern only deepened the impact you had on him. Your words ignited within him a desire to shield and safeguard you. No one had ever approached him with such genuine kindness before. You were truly a kind-hearted and innocent person, evoking so many forgotten emotions within him. It was a feeling so unfamiliar and rare for him, he found himself instinctively wanting to protect you from any harm in that moment, unable to bear the thought of you suffering in any way. In his life, he had never felt this protective over someone in such a short amount of time. It was a fierce and raw instinct, almost primal in nature. Even he himself couldn’t fully grasp or comprehend this feeling.
“Thank you,” he said, lifting his head from your lap and reaching to touch your cheek. You smiled, leaning into his touch, and replied, “No big deal.” As Tomas gently stroked your soft, dreamy skin, he felt an alien sensation he hadn’t experienced in years. Could it be… happiness? The last time he had felt such pure joy was when he and his sister found a piece of glass they thought was a precious stone, believing it would improve their income. Looking at you now, he was transported back to that moment, reliving the feeling exactly.
His body rested and fit, and in the morning light illuminating the room, you looked more beautiful than ever in his eyes. Your presence felt like a remedy to his damaged body and mind, something he never expected but needed.
As he gently pulled you towards him, his touch so light that you could have easily slipped away, you didn’t resist. Your lips were soft, your breath warm, and as your lips met his with a sweet sigh, Tomas felt the walls he had built to resist crumbling. The sensation of your lips against his sent an electrifying jolt through him, every touch igniting a warmth in his chest that seemed to spread to every corner of his being. Each moment of it felt like an eternity, every brush of your lips against his sending waves of longing coursing through him. The kiss was delicate and soft, each movement cautious yet filled with desire. Tomas feared disrupting the moment, afraid to harm you as he savored the intoxicating sweetness of your scent mingled with the warmth of the morning light against his back.
Perhaps it was a foolish move, one that would invite reproachful glances from his brothers, especially Bi-Han, but it was worth experiencing this feeling. He wanted to trust—this moment, your words, you. It was a basic and burning need. Tomas had never fully believed in the promise that light comes after darkness, but in your presence, you made it seem believable, like there could be more. Your body nestled between his arms felt right, as if you were meant to be there, and he had finally found his way home. In that moment of kissing you, Tomas felt a sense of completeness wash over him.
He had never liked the dark, but with you by his side, it didn’t seem so daunting to face it anymore.
171 notes · View notes
fillinforlater · 10 months
Text
Loathing Love: Lavish Lies (Part 4)
Male Reader x Kwon Eunbi + Kang Hyewon x Jo Yuri
Length: 9060 words
Tags: emotional drama, smut, cheating, alcohol, rage, anger issues, bisexuality, girl x girl relationship, girl x girl action, threesome, literal breeding, mating press, face sitting, squirting, clit play, dirty talk, the dumbest, most improbable sex ever, this is NOT real life, very dark ending
TW: includes topics like cheating, alcohol, sex and death
Inspiration: "Look at Me" by XXXTENTACION, Hyewon x Yuri best ship, gay power couple; this had to be released in Pride Mont (glad I could make it lol), also @capslocked ; @iznsfw, I'm sorry.
(A/N: THE FINALE of my L4 Series. It's finally here. The promise is fulfilled. I hope you get the ending and don't hate me. It's all fiction.)
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“Look at me, fuck on me / Look at me, fuck on me / Look at me, fuck on me.”
Volume decreased by eighty percent. You don’t need someone screaming in your ears right now. It only makes you want to scream back. The poor guy has been dead for almost five years now, he doesn’t really deserve it. If you’re honest to yourself, he feels way too on point. Better turn the radio off entirely.
His voice still resonates in your mind, as you get out of the car. Combined with Hyewon’s and Yuri’s moans, they form an inglorious, deadly symphony to fuel your hatred. Visuals of you screaming, scratching, beating fragile, pale skin pop up in your mind. This wave of emotions, it’s crashing in on you like a tsunami. Sadly, it doesn’t bury you. It only makes you angrier.
Push open the door and Eunbi gasps. She kneels on the living room floor, right next to the carpet. Her clothes are in tatters, her knees covered in bruises, but worst of all, her face is ruined with scratches, blood and runny mascara. It looks like someone already did the things you imagined in your head: beat her up and left her whimpering on the floor. The punishment for someone who cheats and lies.
Grab Eunbi’s lifeless arm and pull it up. Your fiance begins to cry, she begs not with words but with her eyes. The way she shakes her head is in honest fear. The potential strikes scare her, how your palm will meet her face over and over again in a loveless, hurt beating.
But you sigh.
"I can't," you squeeze out, voice cracking with every word. "I hate seeing you like this. You deserve to be thrown out and beg for money on the street. But I can't, I—"
You pull Eunbi into a hug. Her small frame melts into your arms, her feet unable to support her. She is like a wet sack, surprisingly heavy. You're barely able to drag her to the couch and watch her whimper and cry, face hidden behind her elbow.
"I still love you, Eunbi.
"Let's try again."
"Y-yes," she sobs and tightly grabs your shirt.
"Let's marry, Eunbi."
"Y-yes, th-thank you."
#
The proposal might have been a mess, but the marriage was not. Everything was meticulously planned, and even the tiniest details went perfectly. No one knew of Eunbi's affair, and you kept it this way. 
Even after your marriage, your luck did not run out. Everything was working out. Two promotions in a year, a new, bigger house, two cars, a part time job for Eunbi that she really enjoys. Talking about Eunbi, she became attentive, caring, adoring, loving to the point where your wound began to heal.
Eight months into your marriage, you became an actor.
No, not the type that moves to Hollywood, swims in money and earns fame with every new movie. The type who has to act all day every day. You have to pretend that it's all fine, smile at everyone, always say the right things—
Acting is lying. You lie to them, because you cannot live with her lying to you.
Eunbi does not know about the abundance of security cameras you installed around and inside the house. They are tiny, but very modern and always connected to your phone for constant surveillance of your expensive home.
Not a single criminal has tried to enter your home—but multiple other 'criminals' entered something else.
At first, it was one guy. Tall, handsome, expensive suit. Eunbi greeted him with a smile. You watched the footage quite confused. The two of them sat down in the living room and talked for a bit. It looked like he tried to sell her something, but it also looked fake, like they were—
Role playing.
A minute later, Eunbi's arms and feet were wrapped around him as he drilled his cock deep inside her cunt. There was no sound, but you could see her moan and scream as he went faster.
Three weeks later, another guy. He seemed to not like role playing. Eunbi opened the door and his tongue was in her mouth immediately. They fucked all over the kitchen, on every damn counter. At least this guy was somewhat attractive.
Things got horrible after this. Guy after guy walked into your home and fucked your wife. Hole after hole, day after day. Whenever you were at work and she wasn't, a cock was inside her. One time, someone seemed to comment on her hair and the next day she went to dye it blonde. 
That was also the day you decided to not touch her anymore. You stay at work longer, until late at night. Work frees your mind a little, and soon they will promote you to the second highest position. 500k after taxes, seemingly infinite money, yet you still weep and down whiskey each night watching guys go to town on her.
Today, two guys arrived together. They spit roasted her on the bed, which was already covered in her juices and sweat from another guy an hour before. 
The video flashes before your dead eyes. You drop another piece of ice into the glass, watch the auburn whiskey sway and cool. Down it goes as Eunbi gets ready to take a cock up her loose asshole. For the first time, you look at the new guy who groans as Eunbi takes his cock.
His smug grin. It's the same motherfucker, the one you caught with Eunbi a bit over a year ago. 
For the first time, you stop your mindless staring at the screen. You pause the security footage as rage builds up at this stupid expression on this stupid face. Without hesitation, you reach for the glass and repeatedly smash it into the screen. It breaks in violent sparks and the room goes fully dark. 
You tear the screen off the wall, the same way you tear out the self-pity in your sorrow-filled heart. A violent kick sends the monitor into the computer and the thousand dollar set-up is reduced to broken scrap metals and torn wires.
The entire office is suddenly so dark and silent. Not that you were watching with sound, but the vivid pictures produced enough sounds in your head. It's all gone now, together with the dirty light displaying dirty pleasure. 
Don't lie to yourself; this was stupid. But as much as it was stupid, it was also necessary and it felt so right. Even though your favorite whiskey glass fell victim to your rampage, you don't regret it. You need more of this.
Throughout the entire night, you continue to mess up your workplace. You stuff bins and trash cans with everything in your office: Semi-important documents, plants, cables, liquor, chairs and especially all the unnecessary, lavish accessoires you gathered here for some reason. At dawn, the only thing that remains is a table, a chair, a laptop with a charger and a bottle of water. A frugal set-up, but more than enough for your job.
At 6:30 am, you arrive at home and jump right into bed, next to your snoring wife. With a quick glance you check her hand; the ruby embellished gold ring sparkles at her finger. A real, absurdly expensive piece of jewelry on a fake piece of shit, you think but smile nonetheless. There is some irony about it that you can't pin down yet, but you'll look for it a bit more.
#
A knock at your door. 
"Come on in," you say without looking up from your screen. It's probably the intern again, asking for help or another task. To your surprise, it's someone far more important.
"Still feels weird, when you remember what this room used to look like." A man, two decades older than you and a decade more work experience in this company carefully scoots into your office and wanders around it. "It's surprisingly vast."
You close your laptop when the man does not watch. It's out of respect, but for some reason, you do not fear him anymore. His name is Sakimoto, member of the board of directors and chairman of the staff council. Usually, there is only one reason for him to come into your office himself—and it's not a good one.
"How can I help you, Mr. Sakimoto?" you say with an insincere smile.
"Tell me," he responds, eyes wide in either insanity or genuine interest, hard to tell with someone like him. "Why did you throw it all away? It looks like a cell."
"It—to be honest, I—
"Well that's the point. None of the stuff is helpful in any way, even worse, it's distracting, unnecessary bullshit that keeps me from focusing. I don't need it, I don't want it anymore."
Sakimoto nods at your words, his expression never changing, not even at the use of your obscene slip. Maybe being a psychopath is a job requirement for Sakimoto's position. You can't bear to look at his slight smile and wide orbs any longer.
"Intriguing," he finally says and turns towards your door again. "You'll be at the board meeting tonight, 8pm flat."
"Yes, Sir," you calmly say, something grinding on your nerves as Sakimoto leaves without saying goodbye or closing the door. That's it, career over.
#
They’re gonna fire me, fuck.
This thought knocks on your mind the entire day, only getting stronger with every step you take towards the meeting room. Someone must have noticed your indefensible, erratic behavior, but how? Everyone was gone that night like they all are every night. You made sure of it by checking the nearby offices of your subordinates and co-workers. You even made sure to stuff all your furniture and electronics down to the bottom of the waste containers.
Maybe the board had a meeting and someone heard something? Fuck, that can’t be it, can it?
Deep breaths, calm breaths. If they know what happened, your fate is decided. You have enough money anyways. Other companies will still take you. You’re gonna be okay, this is just a small hit, a dent in the fast, unstoppable car that is you. If you’re honest, it’s a lot easier when you don’t care about the passenger or who she is fucking.
Bang the door thrice with confidence. The silence behind it becomes even more quiet, until someone urges you to enter in a strict, booming voice.
“You are a bit early,” the CEO says from the far end of the long table, his back to the setting sun visible through large windows behind him. The other board members look at you, some with a perfect poker face as if they are in serious business talks, others seem amused, maybe even a little tipsy, but what surprises you the most are those who look at you in anger and fear as if you were the grim reaper, coming for their souls.
“Better than being too late,” you respond with charme, your calm heart picking up in pace. 
“That is true!” the vice-CEO shouts and most board members fall into a short fit of laughter. They seem so odd, maybe they are making fun of you before forcing you to sign the resignation. You can already see the stack of paper in the CEO’s hand.
“Enough of this nonsense,” the CEO shouts. The laughs evaporate instantly, yet somehow, the positive vibes remain. The vice-CEO is grinning at you, even the CEO himself cracks a smile. He gets up from his chair, the paper firmly in both of his hands, and walks around the table towards you. Your feet seem to grow roots as he stops before you.
“Congratulations, Mr. Kwon,” he says cheerfully and hands you an—
“Official Invitation to the Board of Directors,” you read out loud in utter disbelief. 
“Mr. Kwon, why do you sound so shocked?” someone in the back asks and the CEO nods towards them with a sly grin.
“I did not inform him about our vote last week. Even Mr. Sakimoto only told him to be here today.
“Mr. Kwon, do you accept our invitation? You will be the thirteenth member, as Mr. Muentrich-Schleuser will resign next month. We all think that you are physically and mentally capable, have the pedigree and skill and most importantly, the outstanding drive to push this company forward. The growth in your department has been unmatched the past few months.”
The smooth, freshly printed piece of paper is in your hand. The other members gradually rise from their seats, all looking at you intently. They seemed so much bigger, when you entered the room, but now they are just like you. All you have to do is take the CEO’s stretched out hand, and you’ll be atop a mountain you never even dreamed of reaching. 
“D-do I have any other choice?” you say cooly, only your stutter betrays your facade. A couple of chuckles, the CEO looks at the ceiling and pretends to think.
“Well, you can’t go back to your apartment, as your successor has already been chosen. You could be transferred to Japan and lead the department there. It’d be the same pay as here but—”
He leans closer to whisper.
“—you’d have to pay more taxes there.
“What will it be, Mr. Kwon?”
#
You find yourself on the road again. Somehow, fate has you connected to your car. Whenever something big happened or is about to happen, you find yourself sitting in it, music blasting loud and numbing everything out. Tonight however, you purposefully turn the radio off and drive carefully. 
Let me celebrate somewhere; but where?
You won’t go home to your wife of course. She is more than undeserving to celebrate this moment with you. Most of your other friends and relatives are either asleep already or would ask stupid questions about Eunbi and why she isn’t celebrating alongside you. No, you need someone to not ask you about anything and just parties the night away.
Ah fuck it; strangers will do.
Park your car at the side of the road, don’t care for a ticket, hell, don’t give a fuck if someone decides to steal it. It’s used and you can easily buy a new one tomorrow if you want to. You wander down the street, busy with party-goers, drunk, high or both, some are a lot more focused and carry their drunk, high or both friends home. You loosen your tie, no need to look formally if everyone around you doesn’t either.
Suddenly, a familiar sight, a wooden structure with warm lights and that unmistakable smell. It’s almost nostalgic, magnetic, unavoidable, you just have to walk in there. As you grab the handle of the door and see the long, smooth, wooden counter, it hits you.
Oh my God.
“Oh, wow, haven’t seen you here in forever,” the bartender says when he sees you. His face hasn’t changed, his smile is the same, but you need a few moments to really recognize him again.
He takes a step back and smirks, firm grasp on a bottle of tequila.
“Well, yes, it has,” you respond and walk up to him. “It has easily been a year since my last visit, how the fuck do you remember me?”
“I have this tendency to remember people, especially because you were the last man to ever take her backstage.”
He winks and you throw your head back. Time flies, it really does, yet you find yourself sitting on the exact same stool on a very similar night with the same bartender. Even your wife is still a whore, fucking the same guys, probably right now as well. 
“So I take it that Hyewon is not coming here anymore?” you sigh and point at an expensive bottle of wine. The bartender swiftly uncorks it.
“I did not say that. She is just a lot more, let’s call it, picky. Okay, you know what?”
With an elegant pour he fills you a glass and places the dark ruby liquid on the counter before continuing.
“You can ask her yourself. She’ll be on stage in a couple minutes.”
A waft of wine hits your nostrils, but it’s a lot weaker than the words coming from his mouth. The thought of Hyewon blows you away, stronger than any liquor, no matter how high the amount of alcohol or the years it has matured. Hyewon, the kind stranger, the hot stranger, the stranger to fuck your stress out. Hyewon, the crazy friend, the bisexual friend, the let's-have-a-bar-backstage- threesome-with-this-hot-singer-friend. She was a big reason why you got over Eunbi cheating on you—but it has sadly not led you to the brightest of futures.
Maybe I should have stayed with her.
Take a sip of the wine. It’s delicious, celebratory, a drink for victors who have gained status and wealth beyond imagination, and you are now part of that group. At least you feel like it, even as the bar gets flooded with more and more people from all walks of life. Some look as well-dressed as you are, others clearly struggle to make ends meet in some months, but they're all here for the same thing.
Wait, what is Hyewon going to do on stage? Is she going to sing?
As you still wonder and savor the wine, one of the waitresses moves from light switch to light switch and slowly but surely fills the room in darkness. The crowd goes quiet as tension rises. Everyone is excited for sure, but none of them reach the level of thrill you feel when the spotlight illuminates the stage and a beautifully dressed woman appears behind the curtain.
Resounding cheers, applause, the occasional toast around you, inside you, but all you can do is watch in awe. Hyewon looks angelic, on one hand illegally beautiful, on the other illegally hot. Something about her is distant yet warm, unreachable yet magnetic, strangulating for the heart yet easy for the lunges—she is oxygen, or even better—the breathable air of heaven.
Hyewon.
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Confidence in her stance which silences the crowd again, confidence in her hands which raise the mic to her glossy lips, most importantly, confidence in her voice as she starts the song with a powerful low note that almost throws you off the stool. 
It shouldn’t be such a shock. Hyewon’s voice is mesmerizing, you should have noticed it when she spoke to you or at least when she moaned, but only now you see the full beauty of it. It’s befitting of her, and you will enjoy every second of it. She carries this song gracefully, giving it a special touch that will keep the listeners yearning for a studio version, which would be an efficient side hustle for her.
Wait, what if Hyewon becomes a musician, with songs on the radio and the first glimmers of fame? What if she is already quite popular, an underground artist on the rise, from covering songs to writing her own? What if there is a whole story happening in her life that you missed entirely, just because you stuck to your whore-wife and mind-numbing job? This fear of having missed out on something this big and beautiful, maybe even life itself, shakes your heart with a strong aching, until—
Another voice. The first verse, the pre-chorus, the build-up, it all leads to another voice coming in with unbridled power and passion. It cannot be contained in the way it booms through the speakers and puts goosebumps on every single person in this room. You’re included in this list, but when you recognize the voice and see the woman step out on stage, those goosebumps turn to a full-on rush of nostalgic emotions. 
Back then, her singing was the catalyst for an unforgettable night. Unexpectedly wild, a lot of fun, but the stinging arrow of envy made things bitter-sweet for you. Watching the two of them be so close, intimate and loving had you yearning for more than just enraged sex. You wanted this too, and there was a time where Eunbi provided it. But the veil has been lifted. There is no love, just despair.
Yuri.
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It’s certainly a touching thing, seeing that Hyewon and Yuri are still close friends, connected through the language of music. Apparently they were always here, right in this inconspicuous bar, pulling the stress out of people with nothing but their voices, which combine at the end of the second verse and rush ahead into the chorus. It’s an invasion of your ears, low and high, soft and powerful, caring and overwhelming. 
This performance is greatness, the best of what humanity has to offer—and you feel like the embodiment of an embittered, wasted life.
#
Yuri hits the final note with such perfection that the first few people have already jumped up from their seats and cheered without holding back. Thunderous applause is an understatement to how hard everyone claps their hands or stomps the ground. They’re shaking the entire bar, which has the bartender holding onto some of the bottles with a worried smile. You on the other hand are glued to your seat in deep regret. Not enough to make you cry, but enough to keep you from giving the two angels what they deserve. 
Take a look at your wine. It has been untouched in your glass for a while now and it’d be a waste to throw it away just because you’re facing the cold, harsh truth again. What even is true at this point? Not the stuff you promise your customers and certainly not your relationship. Fuck it, take a large sip.
“They are awesome,” the bartender gasps. “They should finally do this professionally, this stage is too small for them.”
“Yeah,” you answer with a weak smile. “Imagine an entire stadium full of people being this ecstatic. The world would hear it.”
“Well, I tried my best convincing them,” he says and looks right next to you with a sly grin. “Maybe you have more success than I did.”
Time freezes when you feel the familiar busty body around your own. You did not see Hyewon launching herself at you, don't realize what's happening until she starts talking.
"Oh my God, it has been so long! Wait, is it really you?"
"Hyewon, I, uhm, yeah. I'm me."
"It's so crazy to see you again! How are you, how is life?"
"Well, it's—"
Hyewon squeezes your body tighter. She pouts when you look down at her until you finally get it. Return the embrace and Hyewon squeals in happiness.
"You don't have to say anything," she coos softly. "I'm just happy to see you again."
"Likewise," you respond with a sigh.
You could stand around like this for eternity. Hyewon's deep breaths and her steadily decreasing heart rate start to heal you from within. The pain and suffering caused by Eunbi's constant cheating, it doesn't matter right now. You deserve a break from the mess that is your life—you feel like you can celebrate your promotion for real now.
"Hyewon, I—no, you. You were wonderful on stage. Your singing, it blew me away."
As you gush about her performance, Hyewon blushes and disconnects the hug. You notice that she has this heavenly aura around her, like she is spraying sparks of love and happiness that try to ignite everyone around her. No wonder that she had this excellent stage presence during her duet.
"Thank you so much—
"Oh, babe~ I'm here~"
You jump at Hyewon's sudden call, which is not directed at you of course. Before your eyes can search for the person Hyewon just called babe, they have already arrived. Delicate fingers entwined with Hyewon's, they both go for a quick peck on the lips.
"Yu-Yuri?" 
Your shriek makes the duo—the couple?—look at you with wide eyes, glossy and full of love for life—for each other? There is still too much to process for your brain, it can't handle another input. 
"Hey, is everything alright?" Yuri asks with concern in her voice and a caring hand on your elbow.
"Ye-yeah, ju-just not up to date at all. Are you two like… a thing?"
Hyewon has this bright smile on her face. She wraps an arm around Yuri's hip and the younger girl leans her head on her collarbone. Yuri raises a hand up to your face. There is a simple silver ring on it, and you see her eyes scintillate when she shows you it.
"We married two months ago," Hyewon giggles. "So much has happened since we met last time. I can’t really sum it up."
"Don't feel forced to explain yourself," you respond with an awkward laugh. "We had a short stint a while back, I only saw you falling for each other—
beyond that, our lives have happened far apart. But not going to lie, I'd love to hear your story if you're down for it."
Hyewon and Yuri share a glance and then start to laugh for seemingly no reason. It turns into a full fit that suddenly has you in a tight, three way hug. 
"We'd love to," Yuri says when she catches her breath again. "After all, you somewhat got us together. I told Hye that we should try to invite you to the marriage."
"Nah, it's good. How about I pay for the first round of drinks because of your amazing performance and then for the second round 'cuz I got a big promotion today."
"What if I want a third round though?" Hyewon asks jokingly.
"Babe, you can never handle three rounds," Yuri responds with sass and pulls the two of you to a nearby table.
"Looks like you just qualified yourself to pay for the third round then, Yuri."
#
"Like I said," Yuri babbles, her pitch high as the love story reaches its conclusion. "Hye was so scared to tell her father, but I had already bought the rings and planned the dresses, the cake—her mom was literally involved in everything—so on a Saturday night I poured her a third tequila shot—look how done she is after only two!"
Yuri points at her wife, whose head rests on her shoulder with heavy eyes and a rosy hue on her cheeks. Hyewon is in a drunk-dazed heaven, smiling stupidly, while trying to disagree with sounds that almost sound like words.
"Anyways, she was loose and so I dragged her over, we told him and—it was a stressful minute, I tell you that—after a minute he hugged us wordlessly. We kinda had no idea what it meant but during the wedding he looked happy, at peace basically."
"Okay, wow that is—"
Even your tenth reaction to Hyewon and Yuri's story, from threesome over dating to coming out to marriage, is cut short, this time by Hyewon groaning out a functioning sentence from her lip stick and alcohol covered lips.
"Babe, you, you forgot the part where, when you had to quit your job then."
"Oh, I'd love to hear about that too!" you quickly add, reminiscing about their amazing vocal performance. "Why did you decide to only sing for a living?"
Yuri puts on a sad smile as she strokes Hyewon's hair. Her gaze rests upon her empty glass, her orbs turn glassy for a moment then she shakes her head as if to shrug off what's bothering her.
"That's just about, you know, my former job. When I quit because we wanted to focus on music, some were angry because they thought I abandoned the team for childish dreams while others were… not so supportive of us. Ah, just forget it, it's fine."
"Sorry you had to go through it and sorry for bringing it up," you quickly apologize.
"Jeez, I said it's fine, don—"
"Let me make it up to you with a third round and the promise to meet the two of you here again."
Raise your hand to call the waiter while Yuri searches for something in Hyewon's pocket, but the older keeps nuzzling closer and closer as she dozes off. When the drinks arrive, Yuri slips you a phone.
"Put in your numbern" she whispers. "I bet she'll want to hear more from you too."
"Thank you. I assume you don't want to hear from me then?" you chuckle.
"That's right!" Yuri shouts and lifts her glass on high, so the entire bar can hear her. "I'm only here for the drinks. Cheers!"
#
Even the greatest party needs to come to an end at some point. 3am is when you pay for the drinks and call a cab. You barely find your way up the drive way into your house, which is not that bad, because now you don’t need to go sleep in the same bed as Eunbi and instead have the couch for you alone. It has never been so cozy.
Speaking of Eunbi, her acting is almost great. She apparently was so worried about you last night, and all the other nights the last couple of months. Now she found you on the couch, an obvious hangover by the way you scrunch your forehead. She puts her hand on your shoulder, rubbing it in circles, playing the worried wife like it’s in her script. 
“No, this looks wrong, I swear,” you try to laugh it off but Eunbi is just getting closer. God, you can smell all the other people on her. It’s like she showered in a dozen different men’s perfume and deodorant just to taunt you. Ignore the mocking, you’re above this. 
“Then what is it supposed to look like, babe?” Eunbi asks, her eyes wide and shimmering. “I’m willing to believe you, but you have to tell me why you got so wasted.”
“Well, I…” 
It’s best to mix the lie with some truth to the point where you might believe it yourself.
“I, surprisingly, got a great promotion, and we went out partying for a long ti—”
“Oh my God, babe, that’s awesome!”
Out of nowhere, Eunbi casts aside all her concern and launches herself atop of you. You immediately tense up. Feeling the incredible curves of her body has never felt so wrong, so traumatic. Groan and put a palm to your temple to signal her your distress, but she continues to bounce on your lap. 
“All your heart work paid off, I’m so proud!” she shouts gleefully, her arms tight around your throat in what looks like a loving embrace but feels a lot more like someone strangling you. “I almost thought you were out there getting addicted to whiskey every night.”
And you are addicted to men, Eunbi.
Addicted to sex, to being unloyal, to being creamed by other men.
You are the addict, you heartbreaking bitch.
But the words don’t come out. They run circles in your head while Eunbi’s clothed entrance rubs circles over your not-growing, not-aroused dick. You’re not going to surrender to her fuckable body, instead gently pushing her sides and groaning unduly. 
“Yeah, no, this was a one time thing. I should sober up, my head fucking hurts.”
“Should I get you some water and painkillers?” Eunbi asks and gets off of your lap to jog to the kitchen.
“Yes, please—”
—and then get out of my life.
#
The following months brought some drastic changes. Not only is your work harder, it’s also not optional anymore. You started to put up better numbers because of your overtime work, which was due to Eunbi. Now, you can’t escape it anymore. Working from 6am to 10pm is normal, hell, on some days you wish you could sleep three hours. 
But everytime you look at your new bank account—can’t let Eunbi have all the access—it all seems worth it. The pay is ungodly, you have way too much money. Even after taxes and buying two new cars to not look ‘broke’ next to all the other board members, you still have no clue what to do with all of it. Two or three more years, and you could retire wealthy beyond belief. Begs the question why these people usually don’t and continue working.
Another change to your life comes through Hyewon and Yuri. By themselves, they installed a new social life in your life. At least two times per month, the three of you meet up in a bar. You get to know new people, entirely different from you, but also basically the same. Everyone is tired from work, so it’s time to drink and party. You almost forgot how good it feels to have a variety of friends—from those that are perfect for loose parties to those that deeply care about you. 
Hyewon is the best of those friends. Nothing about your brief yet intense past seems to stick on her. She is chill around you, goofy and not at all awkward. Yuri is quite similar, though a bit more extravagant and flamboyant, which makes them the absolute gay-power couple. They just click, it’s perfect, young love. 
“Reminds me of myself.” Your lips betray you.
“What?” Hyewon shouts back, over the obnoxiously loud bass of the rock band on stage.
“Ah, nothing. Just a little envious~” you respond with fake annoyance and raise your glass for a toast. Hyewon hesitates, very out of character.
“Nah, I’m not toasting your glass before you tell me what you mean,” Hyewon says and stares into your soul with her drunk, teary eyes. Maybe she is not that drunk? Maybe you can finally open up about it?
“Really, it’s nothing.”
“Nuh-uh, tell me outside.”
And with that, Hyewon walks out the front door, you in tow as your tie becomes completely undone and your shirt is a mess. Outside you do not find privacy, just a lot of strangers talking, laughing, smoking. This time you pull Hyewon further down the street next to your parked Porsche, where it’s less likely for someone to hear you.
“Now you gotta… tell me,” Hyewon babbles.
“You are drunk, you’re not gonna remember it anyways.”
“Nuh-uh,” she says again, hitting your chest with her long, painted nails. “You need to spill it now, I’ll remember. Like I remember you only asking about me and Yuri and never talking about yourself.”
She’s spot on. You never wanted to talk about it. Eunbi’s name is pain, you don’t need to make the newfound pleasure and joy in your life go away because of her. This cheating whore—she should just go away at this point.
“You remember why we met?” you carefully ask Hyewon, testing if she is capable of understanding even though she is under heavy influence.
“Yes, your girl cheated on you.”
“Guess what: I married that girl.”
“Oh,” Hyewon says and after some delay smiles brightly. “So you talked it out and things got better? That’s why you didn’t come back, right?”
“Let’s just say that,” you gulp and your hands form fists. “Some people don’t change.”
“Fuck,” Hyewon’s pointy heels hit the sidewalk hard. “I’m sorry about that. Was it a bad divorce?”
“Huh? She still lives with you? In the same house? You share the same bed?”
“I—I did not divorce her.”
“I-I did not say that!”
“But it’s true!” Hyewon steps closer and grabs your collar. “I can see it in your eyes, you can’t let go. You hate her, but you can’t throw her away, although she deserves it.”
You want to grab Hyewon’s wrist, push her to the side and run away shouting words of denial that you are stronger than this, that she is wrong, that she doesn’t get it. However, Hyewon doesn’t deserve it—even worse, she is absolutely right.
“Yes,” you whisper.
“Yes,” she whispers and lets go. The two of you lean onto the Porsche in silence, watching customers of the bar pass by without worries, without hate, without defeat. The liquor has done wonders, turning a negative week positive. The same can’t be said about you. You feel exposed, utterly defeated by Hyewon’s words. 
“Fuck you,” you groan, face hidden in hands. “Fuck you for being right, Hyewon.”
“Sorry, but you had to hear it,” she responds and pats your back. “You need to tear her out of your life, like a terribly written chapter in a book or like awful lyrics that you wrote while high on midnight wine and sex.
“You get me?”
“I think.”
“Good.”
The world might not be good at this moment, yet Hyewon’s reassurance, her slow pats on your shoulder, her strong posture in her stunning red dress and the loving, tipsy smile on her beaming face are enough to show you the light of a better world.
“What about you?” you suddenly ask, wiping away tears you did not weep. “Something you’re hiding or keeping down?”
Hyewon looks away, her smile filling with a hint of agony, though nothing of her stunning beauty fades.
“You got me there. It’s something that’s been bugging me for maybe half a year. I know I shouldn’t but—I can’t get away from the thought, you know?”
“I would know if you would tell me,” you say playfully. Now it’s your turn to massage her shoulder, give reassurance, though you don’t know if you have any.
“It’s just that I—
“I want to have a child—my child. I love Yuri more than anything, I will never regret choosing her and only her, but this longing… it does not go away.”
“And adopting is not an option? S-sorry if that was insensitive…”
“No, it’s fine. I just want to be pregnant and raise my child together with her. You know what, forget that. It has to remain a dream.”
Suddenly, a friend of both you and Hyewon sprints out of the bar and looks around in dramatic panic until he finds the two of you. He takes leaps towards you, almost lands face first on the concrete before catching his small frame and coming to a halt.
“Hyewon,” he gasps out in between huffs and puffs. “Yuri is—she is so full, completely—you know?”
“That girl,” Hyewon sighs.
#
You return home on the same night. Your chat with Hyewon sucked out all the power the liquor usually has over you. It means that you are able to think about her words and take her seriously, but you’ll also have to live with Eunbi laying next to you, smelling like foreign sweat and cum again. You could choose the couch, but you haven’t gotten around to having it replaced with a couch where it’s better to sleep on. 
The moment you open the main door, you hear screams coming from the bedroom. Deja Vu, not the subtle kind, more like a fucking train running you over. You still remember the one time she did it almost two years ago where you caught her. This is basically the same. The same sounds, the same gut wrenching punch to your gut, hell, even the groans by the guy sound the same—
Could it be?
Eunbi, in her brand new bikini, rides the same fucking guy from back then while he has his disgusting, greedy hands all over her skin, spanking it and making her scream even louder. 
Like a silent assassin, you sneak towards the slightly ajar bedroom door. Dimmed lights illuminate the room which is filled by the smell of sex and the repetitive sounds of skin on skin. You take out your phone and use it as a mirror to catch a glimpse of what’s happening.
“You like that, you whore?” he growls at her, smiling stupidly dazed.
“Yes, oh God! Hit my tits!”
“I swear to God, your husband must be such a faggot for not immediately fucking you in that outfit. You look like a fucking breeding cow!”
“Yes, I’m cumming!”
“He can’t make you cum!”
The guy squeezes, then twists Eunbi’s breasts as she trembles, screams and squirts to an absolutely ridiculous level, one that even pornography can ot reach. She lets herself fall forward and the guy finishes inside her after a couple of thrusts. His rancid cum leaks out from every corner of Eunbi’s loose pussy. 
You almost throw up. You hurry towards the front door and hide in the back of your car. There is rage, embarrassment, pain—you can’t confront her, hell, you can’t even confront him when he leaves the house like a king, the sun slowly rising in the background. 
Your mind is empty, empty to the point it’s completely clear. You wait for Eunbi to fall asleep, then collect all the camera’s you have installed and throw them in a public trash bin. Afterwards, you clean up the house, dusting off as quietly as possible while also collecting dirty clothes to wash them (there is fucking leftover cum on some of her clothes and towels).
Lastly, you lay down next to her for a second and check if she has cleaned herself properly. 
This fucking whore, I—
“Honey, sorry for not making it last night,” you shout, pretending to come home at 5am. Eunbi shrieks and shoots up, still dressed in the brown bikini, still cum oozing from her cunt. She tries to hide herself underneath a blanket.
“Ba-babe, tha-that’s totally fine,” she responds nervously, looking very puzzled because of your tired yet bright smile.
“I saw you cleaned the house, it looks wonderful!” you compliment her.
“I, uhm.”
“Hey, even the washing machine is running—and did you bring out the trash already?”
“Well, I—”
“God, you look so hot in that bikini,” you lean down to her and cup her bountiful breasts. “I could devour you right now. Did you really wear it just for me?”
“I—
Eunbi hesitates, turns away for a second to look out of the window. She is thinking about it, clearly. This is where her final redemption can start, the way to salvation is to reveal all of her sin, the only way she can come back is to…
“I’m glad you noticed, babe,” she says with the fakest of smiles. “And yes, I would only wear this for you. B-but I’m not feeling it right now, you understand?”
You nod.
“I love you, Eunbi.”
You lying devil.
#
How did you end up here?
“Are you sure about this, Yuri?”
“Yes, do you really want this, babe?”
Yuri folds her arms and raises both her eyebrows.
“How many times do I have to tell you? Yes, I want this!”
With all doubts seemingly out of the way, the three of you make your way to the bedroom. Hyewon’s and Yuri’s apartment is small, but very cozy, the perfect place to live a relaxed, problem free life. 
But they decided to get you involved. You’re a problem here. Sure, you might have helped at starting their relationship in the first place, but now you’re here for chaos. 
Hyewon sinks onto the sheets first, Yuri’s fingers entangled with hers. Your fingers find the hem of Hyewon’s short dress. The angelic garment feels incredible, pure even in your hand and so you only hike it up with care, deeply in awe of what you’re about to see.
Meanwhile, Hyewon is a lot less pedantic and awestruck. She yanks Yuri closer, shortly fiddles with the button of her jeans and then quickly starts to undress her wife. The denim is quickly gone and before Hyewon can attack the white lace panties, Yuri shoves her lover's face into them. 
“Use your precious tongue, honey~”
Oops, you almost started to stare for too long. Better continue your hike up Hyewon’s beautiful, bountiful legs to her holy sanctuary, covered by the same lace she so greedily licks and nibbles on. Your digits hook into the white fabric and slowly pull it down, making Hyewon melt further into Yuri’s pussy. 
“You’re getting so excited, huh~?” Yuri teases and pats Hyewon’s head. The older girl nods while you start to fold her dress to finally see her wet, shaven cunt. You can smell the excitement, the arousal, the anticipation of what is about to happen to her. Now you consider yourself lucky to not have slept with anyone, which potentially avoided any and all STDs. 
It lets you create trouble.
#
How did you end up here?
It’s two days after Hyewon officially asked you to impregnate her. Tomorrow she will ask her wife in what you can only imagine will be the most stressful talk in her entire life. Today however, is not tomorrow. Today is the day you got your STD test back. Hyewon wanted you to take it for if things go her way and Yuri actually agrees to this chaotic proposal.
To no surprise, the results are negative. After all, you haven’t touched Eunbi in forever and by the way she lets seemingly everyone cum inside her, you wouldn’t be surprised if she caught anything. In the end, that was not enough however. You needed to make sure.
A bottle of champagne, neatly placed on the living room table. You put some decorations around it. Eunbi will appear here any minute, you told her you have a surprise waiting, something that will make her speechless, breathless even. 
“Hey, honey,” Eunbi announces her return, grocery bags in hands. “What is it you wanted to tell me?”
“Eunbi, I—the reason why I even took a day off is—nah, come on over! Let’s raise a glass first, shall we!”
The glasses are already filled, well prepared. Eunbi seems utterly perplexed. “Champagne in the middle of the day? Honey, what are you planning~?”
Trouble, bitch.
#
“Oh, yes, eat me, Hye, eat me.”
Yuri has started to tear off her t-shirt, the top underneath as well, to sit on Hyewon’s face completely naked. You on the other hand have only fished out your hard cock, which the incredible display of passion and erotic has surely made harder than ever. The straps of Hyewon’s dress have also started to fall down her shoulders. Finally, the chaos is coming together.
“The two of you are so hot,” you compliment and lean towards them. 
“I know,” Yuri responds in between moans and grinds her soaking pussy more and more on Hyewon’s mouth. “Your mouth is so pretty, so go-good.”
“Hyewon, are you ready?” you ask the woman below you, her nipples peeking out from her dress, her legs spread wide and invitingly and her pussy twitching when you rub up and down her labia. 
Hyewon finds her way out from in between Yuri’s thighs and rests her head back against her lover’s tight stomach. Deep breaths and eyes of absolute need signal you that yes, she is more than ready. The same goes for Yuri, who is on the one hand very fixated on rubbing and drooling all over Hyewon’s collarbone, while her eyes are focused on your cock.
“Watch him closely,” Yuri whispers. “He is going to give you our child.”
With that, you push inside of Hyewon’s awaiting pussy.
#
“What are we celebrating? Did you get another promotion?”
Eunbi looks genuinely curious. Strange, she hasn’t asked about your work at any previous point in time, unless it was about when you would be home. Keep the sarcasm to yourself, you don't want to spoil the actual surprise.
"Oh, sweety," you laugh with full bass. "No more promotions needed, we are set for life. Which is why I bought a new house!"
"No, you didn't!" Eunbi shouts and almost drops the glass.
"Careful, careful, don't spill it."
"Oh my God, you are crazy. Where is this house? Still in Korea or…"
You raise your glass towards her and smirk.
"I'll only tell you if you would do me the honor."
Eunbi reciprocates the smirk.
"Of course, darling."
The two of you set the glasses to your lips. Your eyes are wide open, your heart beats in an uncontrollable flurry as you watch Eunbi down the champagne quickly, almost in one go. You're quick to follow, while a new wind of fresh air fills your nostrils.
This should not feel this good.
#
"Ah!"
Hyewon screeches when you pierce her tight pussy open. She clings onto her wife's thighs, gripping them tightly while blurting her initial, high-pitched moans straight into the pussy above her.
"You take it so well, baby," Yuri groans and rubs Hyewon's breasts with the sweaty palms of her hands. "Squeeze him dry."
Place both hands on Hyewon’s hips and begin to slowly pump into the woman, your cock stretching her walls, filling her whole. When Yuri suddenly starts to play with the small, hidden clit above the entrance, Hyewon becomes noticebly wetter, to the point where you hear the wet sounds of her arousal. It spreads around her crotch, your crotch, her legs, your legs, the bed’s legs, until everything is a glorious mess.
“Oh, I can feel him inside you, baby,” Yuri husks as her hand roams Hyewon’s abdomen. She has gotten off her lover's face and is now gazing at it, her eyes lustful, demanding for Hyewon to be bred. “Soon, I’ll feel something else knock from inside.”
“Yu-Yuri, I’m getting close!” Hyewon screeches, her fingers wrapping around your wrists as you grip her pale body tighter and tighter as she gets tighter and tighter. “I’m about to—”
“Don’t hold back,” Yuri demands and her hand slips down to Hyewon’s clit again and rubs furiously. “I want to see you cum, cum as you finally receive this gift.”
Well, there goes the last shadow of a doubt that Yuri might have something against this crazy idea. Turns out she is even more insane than you or Hyewon. She gets off on you pounding, dominating her wife and she does the same, finally choking Hyewon’s throat gently while bringing her to a loud, splashing orgasm. From the corner of her eye, you see her urging you to not cum yet. 
If she just knew how hard this is with Hyewon wringing all over your lubricated, diamond-like cock. Her pussy sucks you in, takes your breath away, yet you are able to make Yuri’s wish come true. Just close your eyes and imagine something normal is happening, a walk in the park, a nice summer breeze, the beautiful green of the leaves—
“You are so hot, baby, eat me~”
Yuri climbs on top of Hyewon’s face again, her subtle ass turned towards you as she slams her pussy on Hyewon’s panting mouth and rubs herself all over the most flushed, most perfect features to ever graze the earth. Hyewon is barely able to stick out her tongue to tickle Yuri’s clit and it’s so endearing, you just have to make it more difficult for her.
Fold Hyewon. It's as easy as folding a piece of paper. Hyewon’s feet dangle in the air, her toes curl frantically, trying to reach the ceiling to find grip, but she is helpless. At first she lost control over her body due to the mind-blowing orgasm, now it’s because Yuri and you use her as you please. Hyewon is a tool for pleasure and she couldn’t feel more pleasure.
“Your tongue, baby, put it in—ah!” Yuri’s climax was predictable. Her small frame trembles throughout, her adorable butt is right in front of you. You take a risk and fold Hyewon further, your lips now right on Yuri’s cheek. Your lick right across it. “N-not you! B-but don’t stop now!”
So you continue. Your tongue travels all over Yuri’s cheeks, an adventure almost as good as the adventure your cock takes inside Hyewon, exploring every single place inside her scorching cunt. You eventually end up in Yuri’s butt, twirling your tongue, getting her addictive taste on your tastebuds. Sadly, you’re unable to go all out on Hyewon in the meantime, so she scrapes your shoulders, probably feeling neglected. When you look down however, she opens her mouth wide and begs in the most adorable, lewd voice:
“Share?”
You drool right into the awaiting Hyewon, transferring the taste of her wife’s asshole, but it’s not enough, you need to dive into her lips and force her tongue around in her mouth. There is no other option, you need to melt into Hyewon to give her the perfect child, a child conceived under the most ridiculous, feverish and unexplainable circumstances possible.
Yuri’s nails dig in your neck.
“Enough fun. Give her your fucking cum!”
Open your eyes a final time to find Hyewon, fucked silly, sweat, tears, girl cum all over her face and hair, eyes barely open, mouth barely closed—why is she more perfect, the messier she gets? You thrust deeply a couple of times and with a final sprint, you finish the race, with Hyewon bred and Yuri rubbing her clit in a daze. 
“Don’t pull out yet,” she babbles. “I need to—fuck—I need to get the plug first.”
#
“It needs to look like champagne, untraceable, no weird smells or anything.
“Yes, I know that that is fucking elaborate and costly, I don’t care.
“Do you want to be on the board or not? I thought so.
“We have a deal then.
“Hm? No, her death does not need to be quick.”
Infact, I want it to be as long and painful as possible.
# 20 years later #
You open the window and watch the wind splash water against the shore of Malta. This view alone is worth thirty million euros apparently—you’re inclined to agree. The blue of the ocean meets the white stones, it’s a perfect match. No matter how rough the wind comes and goes, no matter how high the sea levels may rise, these two will never betray each other.
A knock on your front door. The way she knocks is unmistakable. Ever since moving to this long forgotten, barely reachable island, you have never felt the need to hurry about anything. It’s all calm and quiet out here—you’d need to go back to Korea for your life to be busy again. But if you’d go back again, your need to see her would be too big.
You couldn’t do that to her mothers.
“Hello, dear Godfather,” the beautiful girl says with a smile and playfully bows her head.
“Hello, dear Godchild,” you return the smile and the bow. “Didn’t your mother teach you how to properly bow?”
“Which one?” she asks, not able to contain her laughter. “The one that sings or the one that sings?”
“It’s nice to see you again, Minju.”
I missed you, my daughter.
(A/N: I hope you all had a happy june/Pride month!)
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girls-alias · 4 months
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Mental - Dean Winchester
Title: Mental - Dean Winchester
Words: 1,169
Relations: Dean Winchester X Reader
TW: Mental health, mental breakdown, SH.
Prompt:
Saw a TikTok edit of Dean and it inspired me.
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I excused myself from the table as I hurried to stand. I didn't look at Sam and Dean before I left the room. I was slightly hyperventilating but once I rushed to my room I couldn't breathe. I practically threw myself into the back of the door. Needing it closed and need privacy. I slid down the door trying to control my breathing, to bring air into my lungs but the panic attack didn't end.
How could Dean like me? I'm a mess, I'm crazy.
Nothing has even gone wrong and I'm still miserable. I should be happy, it's a day off, and I should be enjoying quiet time with Sam and Dean.
Dean doesn't like me. He just confessed it to find a way to let me down slowly.
I shouldn't have told him about my crush, I should have just hidden it like I have done all year.
He is so out of your league. He'd never like you. Remember when he would check out other girls, he doesn't like you,
Oh, my God. I'm an idiot.
My mouth was dry from breathing so heavily, I wanted to gulp to try and gain some control over my own body but it wasn't working. My vision seemed to be clouded by dark spots. I knew there was only one way to gain some control but I cried as I thought about it.
I feel like my only solution right now is to self-harm, I need to get control of myself. I'm acting manic. I have been clean for 78 days. I'm doing so well. I can't break that now. It took me years to get that far.
I cried as I crawled to my display knife that sat on my desk. It was a real knife, sharp enough to cut paper easily but it was only ever decorative. I pulled it from the stand. Resting my back against the drawers I brought my knees up close to my chest. I put my arm facing me in the divet between my legs. The tears evacuated my eyes as if an alarm was ringing.
"Y/N," Dean's voice called through the shut door, worry lacing his tone. "Are you okay?" He asked, worry more evident. I slowly put the knife down not wanting him to hear it. I cleared my throat softly.
"Yeah, why?" I asked but instantly winced as I knew I would never normally say that and Dean might recognise that.
"You just ran off," He explained not seeming to hear my error.
"Yeah, I just needed the bathroom," I lied. I waited anxiously in those few seconds it took Dean to reply. The door isn't locked, I hadn't thought of that. I gulped watching the handle afraid in case he came in and saw me. I don't want to think of how upset Dean might be.
"Oh, are you sure you're okay? You sound a little weird," He explained, his voice a little cheerier but suspicious.
"Gee, thanks Dean," I played it off. Smiling as Dean chuckled seemingly happy with my response.
"Okay, well come back when you're done," Dean explained, I listened to his steps as he walked away. I sighed with relief and sorrow. My tears quickly resuming. A part of me wanted him to come in, to save me but I was too scared to say anything.
I buried my hand into my sleeve, bringing it to my mouth to quietly sob into it. I screamed as the door swung open forcefully. I looked up to see Dean had burst into my door, eyes on me instantly. He looked completely startled, maybe even scared. I didn't have time to compose myself before Dean was crouching beside me. He held my hand, sneaking a glance at my wrist before his eyes dived deep into mine.
"What's going on?" He asked softly. I sighed, not caring to try and compose myself. I look like a mess anyway.
"You shouldn't have lied to me. You should have just turned me down," I sobbed as he moved closer, His hand on the back of my head bringing me closer to him so I could cry onto his chest, comforting me as he stroked my hair.
"I didn't lie to you, baby," He's never used a pet name for me before. He's just feeling sorry for me. "I do like you, I've always liked you. From the second you walked out the room when we first met I told Sam, I wanted you," He explained but I shook my head as I sobbed.
"You're just saying that because I did this," I stated as I lifted my arm.
"No, baby. No, I've liked you from the second I met you. I was too scared to say anything because I didn't think you'd like me," He explained as he hugged me a little tighter. "I want to be yours," He added. I sobbed, sitting up as I shook my head to look at him.
"You're too hot for me," I exclaimed but Dean shook his head. I could almost see hearts in his eyes as he looked at me.
"I want to be yours," He repeated. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at him.
"I'm emotionally unstable," I argued but he smiled softly.
"I want to be yours," He repeated once again. I shook my head.
"Dean, -"
"I want to be yours," He interrupted. He placed his hand on my cheek, his eyes peering into my soul. Like earlier, all the air seemed to leave my lungs but this time I knew it was coming back. "I want to be yours," Dean commented before leaning in to connect our lips. My brain frazzled as I realised Dean was kissing me, we'd never kissed before. This is a bit far if he was lying. He has to be telling the truth. I should believe him.
I kissed him back, my hand coming up to the back of his neck as our lips moved in sync. His tongue graced my bottom lip. I allowed his access as our tongues met in the middle, dancing around each other. I could taste his morning coffee. He smiled against my lips as he continued to kiss me. I melted into his arms.
He slowly pulled away. I couldn't stop the smile on my face from spreading as I saw the joy on his face.
"Come on, we'll get you cleaned up and I'll take you on the date I've been planning all day," He explained cheerfully. I chuckled softly as he stood up. I tried my tears, looking up to see Dean offering to help me up. I smiled as I accepted his hand, and he pulled me to my feet. He took the opportunity to kiss me again. A shorter but passionate kiss. "I want you to wear something cute," He explained playfully as he led me to the bathroom. I smiled knowing now that Dean likes me and I am enough for him.
Masterlist
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leoramage · 8 months
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my oasis
⊹ masterlist ⊹ taglist ⊹
⊹⊱ trigger warning - [sugardating, mentions of cheating, age gap, tolerating bad behavior, swearing]
⊹⊱ theme - [oblivious to love au]
⊹⊱ pairings - [bestfriend!lewis hamilton x sugarbaby!y/n]
⊹⊱ keywords - [complicated dynamic. "you did some things that you regret, still ride for you." ride or die relationship. "cause my heart belongs to you - i'll risk it all for you." older men are better. "and I can't pretend I don't want you all - 'cause I want you all." ]
In the dimly lit city, your heart ached as the world around you seemed to crumble. Lewis Hamilton, your best friend, had always been there to catch your pieces when life got tough. He was the one person who truly understood you, even the parts you kept hidden from everyone else.
He watched as you lived your life, a life that included sugar-dating older men, a fact that hurt him deeply but he chose to tolerate it, fearing that his feelings would shatter the fragile equilibrium of your friendship. He didn't want to lose you, he had a vacant space in his heart that he didn't want anybody to occupy but you.
"Our arrangement is over, Y/N. I've grown tired of you." You were left broken, vulnerable, and clutching the silk robe around you as if it were your last shield against the cold reality. The apartment felt suffocating, a constant reminder of the lies that had torn your heart asunder. The weight of his words crashed upon you, leaving your heart shattered. In a haze of tears, you packed your belongings and fled his apartment, the silk robe you wore offering little comfort against the cold reality.
Your sugar daddy, a man you had grown attached to in your own way, confessed to betraying your trust with another sugar baby. You stumbled down the stairs, the soft silk of your robe swishing around you as your tears continued to fall. You knew it was going to happen at some point but it all happened too fast like a sharp whiplash on your gut - you weren't able to recuperate properly.
With a shaky breath, you reached for your phone and dialed the one number you knew would never let you down. Sobbing uncontrollably on the sidewalk with your luggage, you waited for Lewis to answer the call, your voice quivering as you recounted the heartache that had befallen you.
Lewis was in the comfort of his penthouse with Roscoe resting on the bed with him when his phone screen flashed open, he saw the call and immediately answered it to find you on the line. "Hello Y/N?" He groggily answered and rubbed his eyes, It was already late at night but he was more concerned about why your voice was shaky as if you had been crying for hours.
You only sigh and keep walking. "Lewis... I'm outside his flat. He cheated on me. Please pick me up, I need you." It was the only words you were able to speak clearly as you were still caught up at the moment, your voice fading into a sob.
He didn't need two more words from you or ask where you are, he didn't spare a second to get out of bed and put on his clothes, and shoes and run downstairs - out of the front door to get on his car. This was you, after all, your safety is his concern. He cared too much for you - way too much for it to be called friendly. You seem to pull on his heartstrings with ease and he'll wear his heart on his sleeve.
He knew he was in love with you. Even if he wasn't subtle about it at times, happy to keep it buried for days, months, and years. But he is near his breaking point, he hates to see you cry over someone who is not worthy of your tears, time, and energy. He was disappointed in you, upset you chose this life and angry that you chose an old man. Only if you'd give a damn about reciprocating his long-simmering feelings and hint at him that you love him, he would be over the moon and never hesitate to give you the whole world if he has to.
"I'm almost there. Wait for me, Y/N." Lewis muttered under his breath, his senses was wide awake despite it being late at night and he was supposed to be resting. Turning the steering wheel and driving as fast as he can as if he was on racing track, his car reaching above miles per hour on some of the high speed roads. Speeding tickets were not of his concern, not at this time. Those fines can be paid later on, but if something happened to you he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.
He looks desperately around and sees a familiar figure of a pedestrian on the side of the road. He stops and opens the car door, it turns out to be you. "Y/N!"
He hugs you tight, trying to keep you on your feet while the wind howls around and the car door is still open. Your sobs muffled against his shoulder. He held you, offering you a haven amidst the turmoil.
When you could no longer cry, he guided you to his car and drove you to his penthouse, the ride to his place was still and peaceful until you've arrived. He handed you a fresh set of his clothes and led the way to his living room, where you settled onto the couch then he disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a warm cup of tea that felt like a balm for your soul. Lewis just knew what to do, when to speak and offer you comfort.
"Y/N," he began softly, his gaze unwavering as he looked at you. "I—" his words were cut off by his telephone going off at this hour. He had no idea who would even call him at this hour, but you felt bad for disturbing his rest and now you're here in his penthouse.
"No." Lewis shakes his head, only a few seconds into the call. He sounded firm but calm, whoever was on the other line was not getting the response they wanted from Lewis.
"No. You had your shot and you blew it, I just picked her up off the street because she called me crying. If you can't fix your relationship with her by yourself then that's your problem, not mine." Lewis' eyes were full of disappointment as you discovered to whom he was talking to, there was no need to mention names. He was clearly talking to your former sugar daddy who regretted and is now trying to take you back after confessing he had cheated and had another sugar baby next in line after you.
"You better be sorry!" Lewis called out with a touch of sarcasm and resentment lacing his voice as he conversed over the telephone.
"You break the heart of someone as amazing as Y/N, who would go out of her way to make you feel loved, and now that she needs a shoulder to cry on you come to me?" He scoffs and continues articulating not allowing being talked over.
"You decided it would be better to lie with another woman. No chance do I let you speak to her alone. Not after what you've done to her." You were shocked by the blunt words Lewis was dropping every second, he didn't seem holding back himself by sounding spiteful of the situation.
"You don't get to cheat on a wonderful person like her and then get a second chance, that's not how these things work." These were the words you were happy to hear about - that he is being protective over your wellbeing in general. You were grateful for being best friends with Lewis but you weren't prepared for the next words he had spoken with so much decisiveness.
"She's not yours anymore. She is mine and only mine. I love her."
Not only were you taken aback by Lewis' words that struck you like lightning, goosebumps forming within your skin that were well hidden under the comfortable clothing that he made you borrow. His perfume wafted off the very fabric of the clothing - offering a burst of freshness, reminiscent of vibrant rose petals kissed by the spicy and woody undertones with morning dew, creating a harmonious balance between the floral and the robust. You were still - shellshocked in the comfort of his couch.
Lewis on the other hand was breathing heavily, knowing that you overheard everything he said during the call. With the telephone placed down, you found his chocolate brown eyes staring at you with fear in them - not because he was scared of you - he feared losing you because of his unspoken devotion towards you.
The tension in the air was taut between you as if you could hear a needle dropping against the floor. You heard what Lewis said... and that's how you're going to find out he loved you all this time.
"I've known you for so long, and I've watched you go through so much." He admitted as he took a step towards you with apprehension, observing your reaction despite the obvious.
Your tear-filled eyes met his, a mix of astonishment and bewilderment in your gaze from the revelation. "Lewis?"
He took a deep breath, and knelt in front of you as he sincerely gazed at you - still nervous to confess his long held feelings. "I've kept this to myself because I never wanted to jeopardize our friendship, but I can't hide it anymore..."
"I love you, Y/N. I have always loved you." He mumbled those words as the moonlight cascaded his features, waiting for your words that could make or break the moment.
Your heart skipped a beat as his confession hung in the air, the weight of his words sinking in. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you processed the truth. Then, a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you wiped away a stray tear. "Lewis," you whispered, your voice filled with emotion, "I love you too."
At that moment, the barriers that had separated you from each other crumbled away. Lewis's arms wrapped around you, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. a promise of new beginnings and a love that had been waiting in the shadows.
Within a moment, his lips met yours in a soft, hesitant kiss, a sweet collision that sent sparks through your body. The warmth of his touch, the tenderness of his embrace, spoke volumes that words could never capture. The kiss deepened, a gentle exploration of feelings that had been buried for far too long.
Time seemed to stand still as your lips moved in flawless harmony as if they had been designed to find solace in each other's presence. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, caught up in a whirlwind of emotions that had been building over time. Then flashes of memory backtracked in your head like a mixtape, all these times Lewis had cared for you. All this time he was making you special in many ways despite your troublesome behavior and rebelliousness, he was always there to catch you whenever you fell out of grace. He was your rock that you could lean on - one you could trust with your life.
As the kiss finally broke, you found yourselves resting your foreheads against each other's, your breaths intermingling. Lewis's eyes gazed into yours, and within their chasms, you saw not just the reflection of your own emotions, but the promise of a future you had only dared to dream of.
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Author's Note: This is oneshot fiction for Lewis that I had dreamt weeks ago. I have the draft of this in my dream journal so I decided to give it a try. For the Lewis girlies who I had shared my feelings about the lack of Lewis fiction. I hope I somehow fill a role and hope this was a nice content that I made, it would be heartwarming if you guys appreciate it through any kind of support! I will still have to patch up some dreams of mine and connect the puzzles to create a proper plot for the other drivers that I have dreamt of. Stay updated! 𔘓ฅ[⁠ᓀ⁠˵⁠▾⁠˵⁠ᓂ⁠]𔘓ฅ
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction created by the user in response to a creative writing prompt. Any resemblance to actual events, persons, or entities, whether living or deceased, is purely coincidental. The characters, events, and dialogue portrayed in this fanfiction are products of the user's imagination and are not meant to infringe upon any copyrights or trademarks associated with the Formula One sport or any real-life individuals. This fanfiction is solely intended for entertainment purposes, and the author acknowledges that the depicted scenarios are not endorsed, authorized, or supported by any official Formula One entities or the individuals mentioned.
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