#they brought each other up instead of down

[caitlinbueckers]

baby daddy.

paige bueckers x reader

3.2k

like guys . I don’t even know what to say rn . this is PURE fucking filth like yas there is some exposition in the beginning and its dialogue heavy but like ✋✋ just know this is fucking porn . So sorry for anon if this isn’t up to par but the wormz took over my brain and this is all i have to show for it . Love u so much for the idea tho <3

ANYWAYZZZ !!!! you and paige buy a strap. filth ensues.

MAJOR 18+ WARNING!!!!

“babe.”

it’s deadpan, borderline exasperated as you turn your head, meeting a wildly unimpressed expression from paige that makes you snort out loud, hand coming up to cover your mouth.

in your girlfriends hand, dangling from her fingers, is a dildo of some sorts, shaped horrifically in the form of an anatomically incorrect fist, and it’s almost impossible to keep your surprised laughter from bubbling out, taking a step closer with a look of awe.

“dude, you’re kidding,”

“babe, why are we even here? like, deadass i have two hands and ten fingers, this is so extra.”

to be fair, she had a point— those two hands and ten fingers had never done you wrong in the slightest, but this was simply an act of impulse, deciding just that morning after you guys had spent the time with each others hands down each others pants, you’d declared in a sudden rush of post-nut clarity, that you simply had to see paige in a strap.

which, was met with a bit of intrigue and then, obviously, because paige bueckers is competitive in anything she can consider herself good at, couldn’t help but interrogate you in outright disbelief.

‘so, what i’m hearing is that i’m not enough?” it was said in the tone she uses when her sarcasm is over the top, and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you, slapping her arm.

‘baby, stop being so dramatic, oh my god.”

you’d kissed her to silence her delusions as to why you’d even brought it up in the first place, before explaining ever so gently that it was never a matter of what paige couldn’t do, and more so about the capabilities of what she could do, and that you promised it would be fun.

truly, she was on board after you’d told her that for some girls it was hard to use, so that, ‘if she couldn’t handle it, she could give up’ — of course paige would never back down from a challenge.

“you do have two hands, and i love them just the same. i just wanna try it, okay? is that okay?” you say it in your quiet, softest voice, and maybe you’re kinda being a brat because you know paige could never say no to you when you talk like that, or when you walk up to her, tracing a thumb against her cheek before pulling her down to peck her nose.

it’s immediate the way she chases your lips, presses a quick one to your mouth before she’s rolling her eyes, “anything for my baby, i guess.” but, she’s smiling, and that feels like more progress than before.

in the end, you guys end up picking something pretty beginner level— it’s only six inches, has a dual ended pleasure vibrator nestled in the crotch for the one wearing it and due to paige’s prompt request, it is in fact purple, which only makes you laugh at the excited shimmy she does as you both walk out, hand in hand, black, privacy sack swinging between her fingers.

“thought you were so against the idea?” you couldn’t help but tease her once you guys are in the car, music already blasting— you know all her music without really knowing it, but it’s definitely something by brent faiyaz.

“yeah,” she shrugs, “until i thought about getting to fuck you with it.” she says coyly, glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow before she’s pulling out of the lot, hand secured on your thigh.

you guys don’t really get to it that night, or the next day— instead settling for the slow, tired morning sex that you guys indulge in before her practice and then after, the languid, loving type of sex you both revel in for the evening when she’s back at the dorms.

no, for some reason, it isn’t until a week or so later that it suddenly comes up— and even then, you weren’t necessarily thinking about it too hard, not until the teams all at dinner. you, paige, KK, and aubrey all sit together, and it’s really in moments like these that you love to actually participate in conversations with the team— KK and aubrey had been one of the first to welcome you in with open arms after you and paige had begun dating, so you really felt most at ease with them, even if they could be complete idiots.

not like paige was any better.

it had started with someone making a tiktok, going around asking who they’d never let their son or daughter date— resoundingly, enough people said paige, which was both parts hilarious for you, and astounding for paige.

“bro! literally i’m like, the best girlfriend, that’s some bull.” she couldn’t help but scoff, even if she’s smiling just a little, “baby, i’m a good girlfriend, right?”

you purposely take a minute to answer, pretending to think about it until she grasps your thigh beneath the table, making you snicker as she squeezes, and suddenly, you know exactly the angle she’s playing.

“girl, i don’t trust you,“ KK snorts, making a face, “you’d probably get my kid pregnant or somethin’, like—“

KK’s words make paige snort, shrugging a bit, “shoot, i mean, no wonder they call me baby daddy.” she sticks her tongue out, entirely too immature for the setting of the restaurant, but it makes you warm all over anyway— you love her, even when she’s being childish, which is pretty much most of the time.

the conversation continues after that, and though you pay attention, laugh when it’s funny and answer when you need to, you can’t quite get that out of your head— baby daddy.

it makes you think.

it’s late by the time you guys get home, and true to paige’s fashion, the door is only shut and locked for a second before she’s behind you, pressing kisses to your neck and sliding hands up your shirt, humming quietly— “i’m a good girlfriend, yeah?”

it’s not often that paige asks for reassurance, mostly because she usually already knows, but it’s why it makes it extra special when she does.

“duh.” you whisper out, tilting your head back to grant her more access while she sneaks a hand into your jeans, forgoing the button entirely. her fingers are prodding against your clit when you let out a soft moan, your fluttering eyes only opening for half a second before they spot the black sack from across the room, your own hand gently grasping her wrist to still its movements.

“baby, why don’t we…?” your tilt your head in the direction, leaning your head sideways to try and capture her reaction.

surprisingly, she looks just as interested.

it’s comes out quietly, pressed to your temple, “get on the bed then.”

you don’t waste much time, stepping out of your jeans and your top until there’s nothing left but the black, simple thong that rests against your hips, crawling back against her purple sheets with an inquisitive look on your face while she pulled the thing from its plastic package.

“remember what you said earlier?” you say offhandedly as you watch paige’s muscles flex and tighten, looping the belt around her before she glances up at you, “which part?”

“baby daddy,” you can’t help but grin, tossing your head back against the bed, “just wanted to see how true that is.”

paige scoffs, and it’s obvious she likes that, plays into it even as she crawls onto the bed, looking down at you with a narrowed glance, “how true what is? that i could get you pregnant?”

it’s almost immediate the way your body flushes at that, the subconscious squeeze of your thighs together as you look up at her through lidded eyes, “mhm. is that bad?”

“i mean,” she’s smirking though, and her hand wraps around the strap on slowly, as if simulating it to be an extension of herself— it’s really fucking hot, “it’s sexy that you even thought about it like that,” she whispers, and you can practically see the confidence rising within her at the prospect, before her eyes flicker up at you. “wanna suck me off, ma?”

it makes something within you go haywire, and your mouth practically fills with saliva as if to prepare for it before you nod slowly, propping yourself up on your elbows before you stick your tongue out, paige’s blue orbs never leaving you for one second, before she’s sighing, hard under her breath, “fuuuck.”

she gets up on her knees, running her hands through your hair to gently guide your mouth down to the tip, her teeth teasing the bottom of her lip as you slowly slid the length into your mouth. it felt foreign, heavy on the tongue, but the texture was so lifelike, it almost felt like it was attached to paige.

“shit, baby,” she sounds out of breath as she thumbs your hair from your eyes, wanting to catch every dirty look you send up to her, mouth full and eyes watering, “god, you’re such… a slut.”

it must’ve been the strap or something, that had the endless string of dirty talk spilling from paige’s mouth, not entirely too uncommon and yet it had shifted the atmosphere completely. it felt lavacious, provocative, tantalizing even.

still, it makes the arousal pool between your legs, making you practically squeeze your thighs together again and again, chasing the feeling of some type of friction as paige pushed her hips up slightly, the tip only then touching the back of your throat and eliciting the first drop of a tear from your eye.

she notices, because she doesn’t miss a thing, and is slow as she pulls it from your mouth, eyes lingering on the string of saliva that connected your bottom lip from the tip of the strap.

she’s breathing heavy, blonde strands falling into her face, loose from the usual braid she kept her front pieces in as she grasps your jaw, “does that hurt?”

it doesn’t, but it makes you smirk that she even asks, shaking your head before you lean back now, head hitting the mattress as you open your thighs, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

“you can make it hurt,” you suggest, and paige lets out a slow exhale, a teasing grin on her smile as she grasps it by the hilt, “you’re driving me fucking crazy, y’know that?” the words are hissed down at you, spoken between her lips, chapped from how hard she’d been breathing as she rubs the tip of the now warmed, messily lubricated length against your cunt, eyes narrowed and focused as she drags it up, then down.

“you’re so wet,” it sighs out of paige as if she doesn’t even realize that she’d said it, a whine puffing past your lips involuntarily, ready to spit some type of urgency towards her, until she pushes in, finally, and you fucking gasp.

it was unlike what you’d really ever felt before— especially having never been with men or experimenting with penetration on this degree. it’s thicker than you expect, thicker than paige’s fingers combined, and your back arches upwards off the bed, right as paige grasps your hip to keep you right in place. “shh, shh— fuck, you’re so good, baby.”

“ohhh- oh fuck, paige—“ the words come out in a mess of noises, as you fling an arm over your face to try and focus on the comforting rub of paige’s thumb, the smell of her cologne, instead of the stretching, hot pressure that’s collected between your legs.

it only takes a couple moments before it doesn’t completely hurt, but the second that it does, you can finally blink your watery eyes open, letting out a soft moan at the furrowed eyebrows on paige’s face, her own lips parted as she carefully gives a shallow thrust into you, the subsequent friction of the dull, now audible buzzing of the vibrator on the other end of the dildo against her clit and it’s obvious.

it’s in the way she grunts, tongue darting out to seek attention to her bottom lip. “s’that feel good?” she’s panting already, and it makes your stomach swirl in arousal, nodding quickly as she gives another slow, but shallow thrust that sends immediate shivers up your spine, a rush of rampant pleasure up your stomach as you let out a groan, “more?”

it doesn’t take long for paige to find a rhythm— surprising considering her dancing abilities— and once she does, you can practically sense the confidence that radiates off of her. it’s in the way she wraps an arm around your thigh to hoist your leg up, higher, higher, until your cunt is on full display, and she’s leaning atop you, pressing wet kisses to your breasts as she drags her hips into you, each push making you both shudder out a moan.

“shit, baby— so fucking— so fucking wet. wan’me to fuck a baby into you, huh?” paige always has a habit of going on these fuck-drunk tangents, ones that usually send you careening over the edge in due time, but this— it makes you mewl into her ear, the thick, heavy weight of the strap punching into you, deeper than you or paige could ever reach, and it makes your hips jerk upwards, wanting more of it, all of it.

for half a second, you hoped, by some weird anatomical technique, she could get you pregnant.

“ohhh— fuck! paige, paige— pleasepleaseplease—“ what you’re begging for, even you can’t decipher, but it’s really just to make sure that she rocks into you like that again.

and she does— again and again, drool collecting in the corner of your mouth from how long your lips have been parted, and paige looks at you, delirious and flushed as she drags her thumb over your mouth, wipes away the spit and reaches between you two.

before you can figure it out, you feel her finger tracing the outside of your stretched cunt, the wetness that’s collected there as she lets out a wanton sigh, something more high pitched than what paige usually grunts out, “stretching you s’good, baby— fucking- take it, jus’ like that— fuck, wanna fuck you stupid, baby.”

it’s almost too much. your head presses hard against the comforter as paige’s hips push flush against your own, the final stab of the length being inside of you makes your head swim, your body acting upon it’s own accord as your thighs, shaking, squeeze around paige’s hips, your stomach flexing and jumping as paige gives up whatever bit of composure or control she has left, before she’s quick to fuck into you without a single strand of resistance.

it’s hot, heady, and the sweat that collects on the surface of your skin is almost like a sense of accomplishment as her face falls into your neck, your thighs pushed impossibly high to give her the best angle, as she ruts into you. the slight curve of the dildo somehow gives a direct angle to your g-spot, and it punches a shout out of you, one that’s followed with a crying whine that even you knew was bound to get you both caught.

“fffuck— shhh- shut the fuck up—“ her mouth is on your neck in an instant, other hand quick to clamp over your mouth, but the friction against paige’s clit has her bottom lip quivering, struggling to close as each of her gravelly, breathy moans launch right into your ear, and it’s clear that she’s being greedy, grinding the strap into your cunt for the effort of chasing her own high, and it’s fucking sexy.

this deep, you can almost feel the fucking vibrator, and it reduces you into nothing— fingers twine into paige’s hair, sweaty and sticky, as she fucks into you with reckless abandon, the bed frame squeaking in protest, your cunt wet enough that you can fucking hear it, can feel it drip onto the bed below, feel it coating the sheets and paige’s thighs and you think she’s about to orgasm with how quick her breath has gotten, how shaky her hips are with each incessant thrust, like an earthquake pulsing through your body and it makes you sob, because it feels so fucking good, and paige is so deep, you can feel her everywhere.

“wanna cum inside of’you— ohmyfuck- please, wanna fuck my babies into you— iloveyou, so, fucking- so fu-ucking sexy, baby, fuck.”

it’s all gibberish really, a promise that makes you turn into a pile of mush, because you can feel your cunt tighten around it— delusionally, you imagine paige can feel it too— because even her declaration of love is enough to send you flying over the edge as your legs tighten around her hips, the vibrator nestled deep against paige’s clit until she’s coming too, and it’s a glorious thing to hear— ripping from her throat in a cacophony of throaty groans and whines that mimic yours, only deeper, grittier.

she thrusts into you, sloppy and out of control until you can feel her release on your cunt, spread against your thighs, the dull vibration now pressing hot and wet against you, so much so that it makes your body flood in aftershock, pleasure wracking through you in earnest as your body twitches and jumps, every embarrassingly high pitched noise ripping from your throat, as paige’s go muddled and unintelligible against your neck.

it’s like a cathartic release of sorts, leaving you feeling boneless and jellied in the wake as you slowly return to your senses, fucked out and exhausted as you try to experimentally move your hips, but the soreness between your legs is almost unfathomable.

“shit—“ you hiss as paige finally lifts her head, her own hand slow to guide the strap from your abused cunt, and it’s clear by, not only the tired, almost loopy smirk on her face, but the redness in her eyes, the wetness coating her lashes, that she’d enjoyed herself as much as you had— and while sex between you had always been mutual, it wasn’t often you got to see her fully release like that.

“was that good, hm? did i do okay?” she’s always quick to look for approval, her hand coming up to brush the tears from your face, to pepper a light array of kisses against your lips, chapped and puffy, as you let out a tired laugh, “fucking duh, that shit was… so hot,” you trace her blonde strands, plastered to her forehead, away from her face, “don’t think i’ve ever heard you sound like that.”

it makes her cheeks red, eyes rolling with a scoff, as she lets out a quiet laugh, already trying to play it off as cocky instead of flushed, “well- yeah, ‘cause, i was watching you take my dick.” you slap her arm weakly with a snort, wincing at her usage of words, “ew, you’re so gross.”

“and you’re so pretty,” she counters, before pressing a quick kiss to your mouth.

you both don’t really try to address the fact that there was probably no way you’d both been quiet enough to not at least alert one of the girls, but you ignore it anyway.

besides, it’s only KK that ends up putting you both in a group message the next morning, sending a string of angry emojis and a text that says, ‘bye im moving rooms’.

you both laugh, because you know she’s not, and more so, you all three know it wasn’t the first time and definitely not the last.

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #writing asf #paige bueckers #smut #wlw #still feel like i could get even worse

[sluttywoozi]

April Shower | jww x f!reader

Wonwoo meets a lot of people through his career as a travel photographer. Not one of them has ever made him want to stay in one place, until he met you.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~12.0k Pairing: jww x f!reader | Genre: romance, meet cute, smut, love at first sight

Story Warnings: alcohol and food mention

Smut Warnings: masturbation mention, dirty talk, dom!wonwoo, bigdick!wonwoo, wonwoo’s cold hands, size kink, light thigh slapping, fingering, oral reader rec., overstimulation, slight dumbification, squirting, sexual health/safety talk, unprotected sex (don’t do it), cumming on tits

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, like half a foot shorter than wonwoo, wap, has a cycle to track

AN: written for my bestie @sluttywonwoo’s birthday! kaili, the light you bring to my life is immeasurable and i’m so lucky i’ve gotten to grow with you over the past 7 years 💖

Wonwoo draws in a deep, tremulous breath as he raises the camera to his bespectacled eye, wishing not for the first time that he was anywhere but the city of love. 

This is the second proposal he’s photographed today, the fifth this week, and while he’s always thought himself to be someone who doesn’t mind love, he’s starting to grow a bit… weary. 

His hotel room is obviously meant for two, as were many of the pastas and desserts he’s ordered so far. Everywhere he looks, there are people kissing or hugging or holding hands, their ages ranging from teens in puppy love to folks in their golden years shuffling down the street arm in arm, supporting each other as they have for decades. 

He’s been working as a travel writer for five years, been single just as long, but this is the first time he’s ever found himself feeling lonely. He’s usually restless, never wanting to settle in one place, and he’s almost always solo, reluctant to give himself to someone who might want to keep him. 

Lately, he’s felt a bit differently. Perhaps he’s getting old, outgrowing his bachelor lifestyle. He finds himself wanting to plant roots where before he was nearly offended by the notion of digging any deeper than surface level. 

There’s just something about Verona that begs to be shared, to be experienced with someone else. Maybe it’s the romantic music flowing from the restaurants he passes, maybe it’s the fact that he seems to be the sole single person in this city. Regardless of the cause, he actually feels alone, for the first time in years. 

It’s not a feeling he enjoys, or one he’s familiar with, and as he traverses the cobblestone streets, he almost wishes he was holding someone’s hand instead of the camera he’s carried for most of his life. 

Wonwoo swears out loud when he feels the first drop of rain. He checked the forecast twice this morning, knowing he would be exploring an area a few miles from his hotel and that he wouldn’t be able to return to grab or drop anything off. 

With the weather appearing to be clear and sunny all day, he left his umbrella in his room and headed out to catch his taxi. 

He more than regrets that now, the rain starting to pour and his white button down beginning to soak through. He at least brought his water resistant backpack so for now, his camera is safe, but spending the rest of the day in sodden clothes sounds like actual hell. 

He looks up and down the street frantically, finding only personal residences, not a single shop in sight. 

Until he looks closer and realizes the building at the end of the row has a sign. He can’t read it from this far away, even with his glasses, but the hope is enough to propel him forward. 

He darts down the street, splashing through puddles and swearing again as he feels water permeate his socks. The store comes into view, the sign becoming clearer and clearer the closer he gets. 

Storie d’Amore, it reads. Love stories, of course. He shouldn’t have expected anything else from the city of love. 

“It’s open, thank fuck,” Wonwoo murmurs as he wrenches the door open and steps inside, his clothes dripping all over the hardwood floors. 

He feels terrible tracking rainwater into this store, but he had no other choice. His water resistant bag is only resistant for so long, and his camera is far too valuable to risk. 

He glances around the small room, looking for the owner so he can apologize and instead finding shelves upon shelves of books. He walks slowly, squelches following each step, and reads over the spines. 

He’s shocked to find novels in all kinds of languages, some he recognizes and speaks and some he doesn’t. He’s relatively fluent in five thanks to his years of language classes and traveling, and he has to resist picking up a book in each of the ones he knows. 

He reaches the end of the first shelf, gasping at the large paned window he finds and gasping even louder at the black, tailless cat lounging on the ledge. 

The cat pays him little to no mind, lazily peering at him over their shoulder before curling into a small ball. They blink their big peridot eyes a few times and let out a heavy sigh, settling into sleep faster than Wonwoo could ever hope to. 

Enchanted, he swings his bag around to his front, digging through and pulling out his camera as quietly as possible. 

Even with the mid-April shower, the light coming in through the window illuminates the subtle white notes in the cat’s fur, giving them a glow he begs his camera to capture. 

He crouches until he’s eye level with the cat, holding his breath as he brings the viewfinder up to his eye and presses down the shutter button. 

The cat doesn’t stir, too deep in slumber to register the quiet click. He takes a few more pictures, trying different angles and light settings until he feels he’s gotten every possible combination. 

Maybe it’s stupid, but Wonwoo is more excited to share these photos than nearly any others he’s ever taken. 

Which is why he balks and falls flat on his ass when he hears, “Anubis is a model, you’ll owe us royalties for those.” 

Eyes wide, he looks around wildly to find the source of the words. There’s no one in sight, the store seemingly empty except for him and Anubis. 

“Up here,” the voice calls out, drawing his eye and making his mouth drop open when he finally notices a spiral staircase leading up to a small loft. 

He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before. He must have been too busy staring at the cat to really take in the rest of the store, and as you slowly step down, he can’t tell if you’re amused or annoyed. What he can tell is that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, and that he suddenly wants to ask if you believe in love at first sight. 

“I can give you royalties! Please don’t make me delete them,” he pleads, far less embarrassed than he should be by the fact that he’s practically on his knees begging a pretty stranger to let him keep photos he took. 

You reach the landing and make your way toward him, your face unreadable. He’s surprised when you break into a sweet smile and hold your hand out to him. He hugs the camera close to his chest in response, making you roll your eyes and grab his free hand. 

The warmth of your touch is a shock to his system, but he holds back the shiver that wants to roll down his spine as you lean back and tug. Still confused, he lets you help him up, feeling self conscious in his damp clothes. 

He stands a little straighter when he realizes he’s over half a foot taller than you, the height difference giving him back some of his confidence. He’s not sure it should, especially with the unimpressed look you level at him when you set eyes on the trail he tracked through your store. 

“I’m so sorry, I can clean it up if you give me supplies,” he offers, fully serious and almost hoping you’ll say yes just so he can assuage his guilt. 

“These floors have seen worse,” you shrug, leaning down to pet Anubis, and Wonwoo has no idea what that means but he’s not about to ask. He introduces himself instead, shaking the hand still held by yours and repeating your name when you offer it. 

He’s only slightly jealous when you pull away and hook your hands under the cat’s body to draw him into your arms, though whom he’s jealous of, he doesn’t know. 

He would love to be holding the cat, but he has a sneaking suspicion he’d also love to be held by you. 

Your hand was so warm, and so soft, and the rest of you looks just as warm and soft, if not more. 

Anubis snuggles into your arms, his legs stretching and his toes spreading before he tucks them up against your forearm. His eyes go heavy lidded when you start to scratch his head, and now Wonwoo knows who he’s jealous of. 

He hates to admit it but it’s been years since he let someone touch him, and after just a minute or two of knowing you, he’s already hoping you’ll touch him more. He doesn’t know if it’s because you hold Anubis so lovingly, so gently, or if it’s because you have this aura about you that soothes him, or if it’s even because he feels this attraction, this draw to you. Maybe it’s all three. 

All he knows is that something about you makes him want to stay until his clothes are dry and the sun is setting, and then stay a little longer after that. Like for months, or even years, perhaps. 

He’s relieved when you ask if he’d like some tea, directing him over to the small fireplace in the back of the store and nodding to one of the chairs. When he sits, you lean down and plop Anubis in his lap, surprise painting your face when he doesn’t immediately jump down. 

“He’s usually wary of new people,” you hum thoughtfully, watching as the cat gets comfortable on his thighs. He brings his hand up and runs it over his soft fur, beaming up at you when he feels Anubis’s little body start vibrating beneath his palm. 

“I love him,” Wonwoo admits, his voice grave and his eyes open and true behind his glasses. 

You just laugh and say, “Me too,” before disappearing behind a door, leaving him alone with your cat. 

Rain is still barraging the building, the steady sound lulling him into a trance as he pets the sweet being in his lap. The fire warms him quickly, making him realize just how cold he was before, a small shiver attempting to wrack his body again. He keeps it contained to his shoulders, wanting to avoid disturbing Anubis if possible. 

He tells himself it’s just because he wants him to stay, but if he’s being honest, he also hopes that if you see that your cat likes him, then you will too. 

Before long, you return with a tray of steaming mugs, one for him and one for you. You set it carefully on the side table between the chairs, telling him, “I would let it steep for two more minutes. There’s also biscotti, and some crostini if you’re allergic to nuts.”

“Wow, thank you so much,” he breathes, his eyes wide. He’s run into some very nice people on his travels, but it’s been a while since he was met with such hospitality. Here he is, sitting in front of a blazing fire with tea and snacks waiting for him, after dirtying your shop and taking unapproved pictures of your model cat. Cat model?

“So, how much do you expect in royalties?” He asks with trepidation, knowing the magazine he works for is pretty big but maybe not big enough to pay residuals for pictures of a cat. 

You stare at him for a few seconds, squinting your eyes and quirking your head before chuckling, “That was a joke. Bubby isn’t a model, I just think he’s handsome enough to be one.”

“Ohhhh.”

Wonwoo feels himself blush, his cheeks and ears flaring red before he forces out a laugh to try to cover his embarrassment. He’s not used to jokes, usually relying on sarcasm, puns, and situational humor, and he’s a bit ashamed he didn’t realize you weren’t being serious. He stares down at Anubis, petting him softly so he doesn’t have to meet your eyes. 

“Tea should be ready,” you say brightly, picking up your mug with careful hands and kindly allowing him to recover without your gaze on him.

He follows suit, cupping his hands around the hot mug and bringing it to his lips so he can blow gently, huffing when steam fogs up his glasses. He pushes them up into his hair, thinking absentmindedly that he should get it cut soon as he takes his first sip. 

The flavors bloom on his tongue, mint, orange, cinnamon, honey, and something else he can’t put his finger on. It’s the most comforting tea he’s ever had, and he blinks over at you with misty, blurry eyes, sighing, “What is this? I need to buy four tons of it.”

“It’s called Evening Sorrento, it’s one of my favorites,” you smile indulgently, bringing your mug to your lips and drinking slowly before setting it down and reaching for the biscotti. 

He follows your lead, taking a biscuit and dipping it in his tea like you do. The first bite has him groaning in appreciation, dark chocolate, citrus, and almond blending together flawlessly, the taste only enhanced by the tea. 

“What’s the spiciness from?” He asks curiously, taking another sip to try to figure it out himself. 

“Ginger,” you whisper like it’s a secret. “I candied some and put it in the biscotti, too.”

“You made these?” He sounds astonished, he knows, but he almost can’t wrap his head around someone being able to create something so delicious when all he can do is fry an egg. He still burns it half the time, more scared of undercooking than he is of overcooking.

“Yeah, my best friend taught me how, she loves to bake,” you smile sweetly, seemingly pleased to see him enjoying the food you made. 

Anubis stirs, stretching out on Wonwoo’s lap before leaping onto the floor and up into your chair. You murmur, “Hi, baby,” and Wonwoo can’t help but grin as he watches your cat use your arm to pet himself. 

He asks how long you’ve had him, then for pictures when he learns you rescued him as a kitten, gasping softly at the tiny version of the cat as you swipe through photos. The conversation shifts to Wonwoo’s desire to adopt a cat before he explains why he can’t, and the way you look genuinely sad for him makes his heart swell. 

You ask more about his job, about the places he’s been and the things he’s seen, and in turn, he asks how you acquired all of the books in this store. It turns out you have contacts all over the world, friends who send you romance books when they come across them in exchange for a free one when they next come to visit. It seems like the perfect system, allowing you to collect novels in different languages and share them with the people you love. 

Talking to you is so easy that he doesn’t even notice how late it’s grown until you check your phone, a startled expression on your face as you say, “I should have closed half an hour ago.” 

He glances at his watch, blanching at the clock staring back at him. It’s been four hours since he burst into your shop looking for refuge from the downpour, and he doesn’t even know if it’s still raining. The sun has long since set, going down around six PM this time of year, which was over two and a half hours ago. 

He rises swiftly, nervously smoothing out the wrinkles in his slacks and thanking you for your generosity. You stand with him, hugging Anubis to your chest before offering the cat for one last snuggle. Wonwoo takes him carefully, bundling him up against his now dry shirt and smoothing a hand from his head all the way down to the nub at the end of his body. 

He starts purring immediately, the sound audible even over the crackling of the embers, making you smile softly and tell him, “Bubby likes you.”

“I like him,” Wonwoo beams, reluctantly handing the cat over when you stretch your arms out. 

“You love him,” you correct with mirth dancing in your eyes as you walk him to the door.

He peeks out, sighing in relief when he finds that the rain has stopped before turning to you. He almost doesn’t know what to say, goodbye feeling too final, too formal. He thanks you again instead, dragging his feet now that it’s time to leave. 

But he doesn’t want to be rude, or keep you any longer than he already has, so with one last wave and a scritch under Anubis’s chin, he leaves. 

You call out, “Come back soon!” and while he’s sure you say that to all your customers, he can’t help but feel like you mean it. 

Wonwoo has a plan for the day: take the train to Venice, splurge on a gondola ride, and capture as many of the historical buildings as he can while the boat is guided through the canals. 

So why he finds himself standing outside of Storie d’Amore again, he doesn’t know. 

He managed to stay away for two days, hiking all over Verona and taking enough pictures to fill an SD card. He would have made it three if he asked the cab driver to take him to the train station instead of your place of business, but here he is. 

Some part of him wants to rationalize it. He didn’t get any photos of the area because of the rain, just of your (not) model cat, so he’s simply making up for lost time. That still doesn’t explain why he’s staring through the paned glass window at the end of your shop, hoping for a glimpse of you or Anubis. 

Obviously, you’re both here, but he doesn’t see either of you, and he also wants to buy a few books to take home, so it only makes sense that he goes into your store. 

He’s dry this time, thankfully, though he wonders if that means you won’t offer him tea and biscotti again. He can see a few people milling about, pulling books off the shelves to read the summaries and either placing them into mismatched baskets or putting them back. 

He does the same, searching for novels in the languages he knows with the intent of buying one of each. He’s gathered Italian, French, and English when he feels something rub against his leg, looking down to find a black cat staring up at him. 

“Anubis!” Wonwoo grins, leaning down to set the basket to the side so he can pick up his little friend. Holding him to his chest, he feels his heart warm as the purring starts, not even a little mad about the black fur accumulating on his shirt. 

“Oh!” 

He hears you gasp and glances up, smiling shyly at you and shifting to hold Anubis with one arm so he can send you a wave that only feels a little awkward. 

“I didn’t think you’d come back,” you say, stepping closer to him and taking in the basket at his feet and backpack slung over his shoulder. 

“You told me to,” he shrugs sheepishly, suddenly fearing that, “Come back soon,” is something you just say to everyone. 

“I didn’t think you actually would. I thought you’d be gone by now, on to the next destination.” 

He can’t tell if you’re happy to see him or not, but you haven’t kicked him out yet so he doesn’t plan on going anywhere. 

“The next destination can wait. I needed something to read on the plane anyway.” 

“Looks like you found more than just something,” you chuckle, peering closer to check out the titles he’s gathered so far. “All good choices,” you smile up at him, and he feels something unlock in his chest to make space for you. 

“Can I take you out on a date?” He blurts out, his eyes widening and his free hand flying up to cover his mouth. The words escaped without his permission, but he can’t say he wants to take them back. 

You tilt your head and look at him for a little while, like you’re searching for something, and you must find it because your smile grows before you nod and say, “I can close early tonight. Does seven work for you?” 

“It works perfectly,” he breathes after lowering his hand, his heart racing and his body feeling warm for once. 

A customer calls out your name, making you glance over before you turn back and say, “Leave your books at the register and meet me here later?” 

He can only nod, grinning too wide to manage any words. 

“Don’t take my cat, I love that little guy,” you warn him playfully (he thinks) and spin to find the source of the voice. He can hear you speaking in rapid French, easily translating it in his head without even meaning to. They’re asking for your help in choosing between two books, one a tragedy and one a comedy. 

You go over the pros and cons of each genre and offer your own personal opinions on the specific books, making Wonwoo wonder if you’ve read every novel in here. You seemed to recognize the books in his basket and you apparently know the ones this customer is talking about; maybe you read them as you receive them? 

But there are so many, there’s just no way, he thinks, letting Anubis wriggle out of his arms to follow you. He supposes that’s something he can ask you at dinner, the thought bringing a pleased little smile to his face. 

He selects his last two books and wanders over to the checkout counter, stashing his basket on the stool behind it before heading out to get pictures of the neighborhood while he can. 

He’ll be busy tonight, after all.

Wonwoo returns to your shop five minutes before the clock strikes seven. 

He slips in without your notice, making his way to his favorite window and sitting down on the ledge next to Anubis to scroll through the pictures he took while he was out. The cat just sprawls a bit more so his feet are touching Wonwoo’s thigh, the tiny points of connection warming him from the inside out. 

He captured another proposal today, but this one didn’t leave a hollow feeling in his chest like the others. Now that he’s thinking about it, neither did any of the couples he passed. He was able to truly appreciate all of them without that sense of bitter loneliness, and he can only attribute that to meeting you. 

An unbidden smile stretches his lips as he thinks about the time he spent sitting by that fire with you, talking about anything that came to mind. It’s been months since he spent four straight hours with someone, just talking. It’s been years since he wanted to. 

A tiny part of him fears he only feels this way because he’s been so lonely, but the rest of him knows he’d be enamored with you no matter what state he was in. 

This is only confirmed when you round the bookshelf and come to a stop in front of him, an emerald green dress swishing over your thighs and a smile brightening your face. You cleared the store in the time he spent reminiscing, leaving the room empty but for you, Wonwoo, and Anubis.

The air feels tense, heavy with something Wonwoo can’t quite identify. It’s only when he rises to his feet and finds himself closer to you than he meant to be that he realizes that something is potential. 

It’s the same rush of anticipation that fills his chest when he lines up a shot he knows will be incredible, when he finishes climbing a hill and sees the perfect sunset waiting for him, when he finally finds the words to describe the indescribably beautiful. The fact that he’s feeling it now, with you, tells him everything he needs to know. 

His previous fear of meeting someone who would want to keep him has become a dream, a wish that he can only hope will come true, because now Wonwoo knows he wants you to take hold of him and never let go. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice so full of longing, it’s almost embarrassing. 

“Before the first date? The scandal!” You say dramatically, feigning offense and lightly tapping him on the chest. He gasps at the contact and covers your hand with his, pressing it flat to his pec so you can feel his speeding heart. 

You must realize how serious he is, how desperate, because the playful smile falls from your face, your gaze darting between his eyes and his lips. He feels himself flush under your attention, his ears and the back of his neck hot as you stare up at him. 

“Yes, Wonwoo. You can kiss me,” you breathe softly, your face tilting up and your eyelashes fluttering as he begins to lean down. This moment feels monumental for some reason, like something he’ll remember for the rest of his life, and as he cups your face and carefully presses his lips to yours, he figures out why. 

Everything about kissing you feels right, as if all of his jagged pieces have fallen into place, as if this is what he was destined for, as if the fates connected him to you with an invisible, unbreakable string. 

He wasn’t restless, he wasn’t a bachelor, he was just waiting for you. 

Suddenly his smile is too broad for him to keep kissing you, giddiness flowing through his veins as he pulls back and rests his forehead against yours. He leaves his hands on your face, brushing his thumb over the curve of your cheekbone before biting back his grin and kissing you one, two, three more times. 

He feels shy when he takes a step back, letting one hand fall to catch yours and squeezing like it’s a lifeline. 

“Was that… life-changing for you too?” Wonwoo asks quietly, scared to pop the bubble he’s found himself in with you. 

“Maybe,” you whisper, vulnerability evident in your voice though your face gives nothing away. “We should get going.”

“Yeah, yes, we should,” he lets you pull away even though it physically pains him, following when you tug him to the door with the hand he’s still holding. 

He doesn’t know what just happened, why you closed yourself off, but he’ll give you the space you seem to need, sure that if he pushes it will only make you freeze up more. For now, he’ll take you to that romantic riverfront restaurant he passed earlier and encourage you to order any and everything you like. 

You ease up a bit after a glass of wine and some shared appetizers, the smile on your face genuine again though your light still seems dimmer than it was before. You ask him a lot of questions but don’t offer up much information in return, keeping your responses short and to the point. 

It doesn’t disrupt the flow of conversation at all, thankfully; Wonwoo and you are compatible enough that it’s easy to bounce from one topic to another. There’s never a pause, never a moment where he doesn’t know what to say, and even with you being more withdrawn than expected, he still laughs himself to tears more than once. 

It’s late by the time he pays the bill and walks you home, which he’s learned is the building right above your shop. There aren’t many people out, and though he startled you when he took your hand in his, he continues to hold it the whole way back. You’ve gone quiet again, pensive, making him wonder if he’s done something wrong, or, worse, if you regret kissing him. 

You only started acting like this after he pressed his lips to yours, after he asked if it was life-changing for you like it was for him. 

He doesn’t know what else it could be, unless you figured out you just don’t feel the same way about him as he does about you. His heart drops into his stomach at the thought, his fingers subconsciously clenching around yours, making you glance up at him in concern. 

He stares forward resolutely, not ready to see confirmation of his fears in your gaze. 

By the time that big window and Anubis’s sleeping body come into view, Wonwoo has convinced himself that you feel nothing but friendship for him and simply don’t know how to say it. 

Still, he can’t help but try, one last time. 

“Do you think I could see you again before I go? I’ve got plenty of pictures and I fly out tomorrow night, so my day is clear.”

You take a second to think about it, your eyes shuttering as if you don’t want him to see the thoughts behind them, before you answer solemnly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh,” he breathes out, feeling like all the air has been pulled out of his lungs. “You don’t… think it’s a good idea. Okay, I’ll, um, I’ll just go, then.”

He can’t even make himself look at you, knowing that his mouth is pinched in the way it does when he’s trying not to cry. He squeezes your hand once more before disentangling his fingers from yours, taking a step back, and turning to walk away so you can’t see him lift up his glasses and rub at his burning eyes. 

He doesn’t get far before you call out his name. 

“Wonwoo! I… It’s because you’re leaving,” you sound as close to tears as he feels, your voice plaintive and fragile. 

He stops short and chews on his lip, swiping at his face with rough hands as your footsteps sound on the cobblestones. You let him stay where he is but he feels your fingers clench in the back of his shirt, like you’re afraid he’ll still walk away. 

That touch is enough for him to turn around, his hand catching yours as it falls and his heart stuttering at the sheen of tear tracks on your face. He brings his other hand up to brush his thumb under your eye, sweeping away a freshly fallen drop. 

“Is that why you said maybe, after I kissed you?” He asks in a gentle, low tone, less fearful of the answer now. 

“Yes. This has an expiration date, I don’t get to keep you. I couldn’t admit that just one kiss had me ready to sell my shop, buy a new cat carrier, and join you on the road,” you laugh softly in a self-deprecating way, avoiding his gaze again like you’re embarrassed. 

“Y/n, when I said it was life-changing for me, I meant it. As in, I would change my life for you. I can transfer to the Italian branch, go on shorter assignments, find a place here. You can keep me.”

“Wonwoo, I can’t ask you to do all that for me. I mean, we only met a few days ago, how do you know you won’t regret this?” You sound reluctant to accept his offer, but it seems to be coming from a place of worry for him instead of a lack of feeling, and he can work with that.

“I’ve been thinking about settling down anyway, I just needed a sign. Meeting you was that sign, and getting to know you like this has only made me more and more sure. Please, all you have to do is believe in me.”

Finally, you meet his eyes, searching them like you did when he asked you out, and once again, you find what you’re looking for. A watery smile stretches your lips as you step closer to him and up onto your tiptoes, wrapping your free arm around his neck and pulling him into a hug. 

His eyelids flutter shut, his arm vining around your waist and hauling you up against his body so you can feel his galloping heart. He presses his lips to the top of your head and breathes you in, finding your scent absolutely intoxicating. 

It’s fruity like pomegranate but sweet and floral too, reminding him of the lotus flowers he stumbled across in the southern Himalayas. There’s an underlying warmth, a natural musk that makes him wonder if you’re wearing perfume or if you just smell like this on your own. 

He doesn’t really care either way, not now that he has you so close, your joined hands coming up to rest against his shoulder and your body relaxing into his. You stay like that until his heart returns to a somewhat normal pace, before he pulls away just far enough to look down at you. He tugs his hand free so he can cup your face, whispering, “I’m gonna kiss you again, okay?” 

“Please do,” you whisper back, taking in a shuddering breath just before he locks his lips with yours. You sigh it out into his mouth and he swallows it like it’s a benediction, your tongue dragging against his as he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you. 

He’s about to let out a groan when a wooden shutter bangs against the stone building above, a loud voice shouting, “Prendi una stanza!”

“É la città dell'amore, Stefano, dacci una pausa!” You break away to shout back, grinning at Wonwoo’s flaming cheeks. 

“Y/n? Vai avanti, caro!” The shutter snaps closed again and Wonwoo bends over in a full body laugh, clutching his stomach as his abs flex with mirth. You’re not laughing like he is, but you are watching with affection and only the slightest bit of embarrassment. 

When he’s finally regained his composure, he straightens and wipes at his cheeks again, crying for a completely different reason than before. You smile up at him fondly, reaching out to fix his hair and asking, “Since you’re free tomorrow, do you want to come up for some coffee?”

Wonwoo doesn’t know if you’re really offering refreshments or if the coffee is a euphemism for something else, but either way, it’s an easy answer. 

“Of course I do.”

Anubis starts meowing as soon as you unlock the door to your shop, loping over on graceful paws and weaving between your feet. 

“You had your dinner, why are you shouting at me?” You ask as you crouch to pick him up, holding him like a baby and scratching at his stomach gently. 

“Maybe he missed you?”

You mull it over for a little bit, nodding your head in acceptance and admitting, “I don’t usually go out at night, so maybe he did.”

“Is that why your neighbor was fine with us making out as soon as he figured out it was you?” 

You lightly jab him in the stomach with your elbow and he pretends to be mortally wounded, stumbling and groaning dramatically as if he’d been hit with an arrow instead. 

He supposes he has been, but it was one of Cupid’s, not one of yours. 

Anubis twists out of your arms and you let him, locking the entrance to your store and leading Wonwoo to the back. You unlock one of the doors with a huff of exertion and a jiggle of the handle, turning to say, “Old building,” before pushing the door open and letting Anubis dart up the staircase in front of you. Wonwoo jerks the door closed and locks it with the key you hand him, following you up the stairs in near darkness. 

The room you lead him into is a bit smaller than your store, containing a compact kitchen and warm living room flanked by a wall with two doors. “Bathroom is on the right, if you need it.”

He slips off his shoes and excuses himself to freshen up, taking care of his business and washing his hands quickly. Chancing a look in the mirror, Wonwoo finds that he’s flushed, aglow with infatuation, his smile irrepressible and wider than ever. He almost can’t look himself in the eye, knowing that all he’d find is adoration for you, and perhaps a bit of nervousness. 

He doesn’t know what to expect now, doesn’t know if this is leading where he thinks it is or how to act in whatever case. But, not wanting to keep you waiting, he opens the door and shuts off the light, finding you sitting at your dining table with a full french press and two mugs in front of you. 

He wants to speed over but he strolls instead, trying to appear at least a little unaffected. That facade is broken when he stops a few feet from the table, suddenly unsure of whether he should sit next to you or opposite from you. 

Blessedly, you make the choice for him, sliding one mug across the table before smoothly depressing the plunger of the french press. 

The rich smell of coffee permeates the air as you gracefully pour, filling his cup with the steaming, dark liquid before filling yours. “Is black okay? I have sugar and oat milk, if you need them.”

“Black is great, thank you.”

He’s acclimated to the bitterness enough to appreciate the deeper notes, though it’s only because he was once too shy to ask for sugar. He sips carefully, wondering with a satisfied hum if this really is the best coffee he’s ever had or if he just thinks that because you made it for him. 

You fall into an easy chat, discussing pictures he took and customers you had while he was out and about, before you bite your lip and stare down into your coffee like it’ll give you strength. 

“Wonwoo, can I ask you something… personal?” 

Your eyes slowly return to his, and the heat in your gaze makes him want to pop open a few buttons on his shirt and fan himself.  

“Sure,” he says, with only a little trepidation. 

“What are you like in bed?”

Oh. 

Oh. You want to know what he’s like in bed. 

Have you thought about what he’s like in bed? Have you thought about being in bed with him? Have you thought about him and touched yours-

He should answer you before he lets himself get carried away.

“Um, I’m a little different, I suppose. I like to be more… dominant. Maybe a bit rougher than I may seem,” his voice is hushed, and he wants to look away from the intensity of your stare, but he finds he can’t. It’s like you’ve hypnotized him, entranced him with a single question. 

“Is there anything specific that you like?”

This conversation, he likes this conversation. A lot. He can feel his slacks tightening with it, his heart thumping far too hard to be healthy and his mind starting to offer up ideas so fast he can barely make sense of them. 

They’re mostly images, sensations, feelings, all modeled after you. 

“I like,” he begins slowly. “I like being in control. I think I’d like holding you down, making you take what I’m giving you. I like talking,” he chuckles wryly, before continuing.

“I like listening too. I wouldn’t want you to hold back, I’d want to hear every little noise I could pull out of you. And I think I’d really like using my hands first, making you cum until you cry. Or until you beg for my cock.”

You suck in a ragged breath and glance away before looking back at him. Finally, he can read you, desire obvious on your face and in the tight knuckled grip you have on your mug. 

You set it down cautiously, aware of the still scalding coffee inside, and push away from the table to stand. Wonwoo watches you walk around to his side, his gaze fighting to stay on your face and not on the way your dress moves over your thighs as you get closer and closer to him. 

You stop just a foot away, holding your hand out and waiting for him to take it with a slight air of impassioned impatience. He places his hand in yours and rises to his feet, valiantly ignoring the view of your breasts from this angle and following you when you turn and begin tugging him to the door on the left. 

“Are we done talking?” Wonwoo asks, exhilarated and aroused, his dick hardening so quickly it leaves him feeling dizzy. 

“Not even a little bit,” you breathe, pushing the door open and facing him again as you walk backwards towards your bed. 

He crosses the few steps between you, crowds you up to the edge of the bed and pushes you to lay down with a gentle hand on your shoulder. His hands won’t stay gentle for long, and he hopes you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into. 

“If you don’t like something I do, tell me,” he whispers before leaning down and taking hold of your legs, pulling them apart and filling the space in between with his hips. 

“I will,” you gasp as he grinds against you, your dress pooled at the top of your thighs, just barely exposing your black panties. “But I don’t think I’ll need to.” 

I like everything you do. 

You don’t say it but he hears it anyway, the corner of his mouth lifting in a soft smirk before he braces his hands on either side of your head and moves in close. He doesn’t kiss you yet, just watches the way your eyelids flutter shut and your lips pout in preparation. You peek an eye open when he continues to hold himself away from you, your hand rising to cup his neck and attempt to tug him down to you. 

The second your fingers come into contact with him, he shifts his weight to one hand and grips your wrist with the other, pushing it down to the bed and holding it there. You bite back a smile, wriggle beneath him to get more comfortable, and drape your other hand above your head. 

That, he likes, and he rewards you by releasing your wrist and dragging his fingers up your inner thigh instead, digging them into the warm, soft flesh and groaning when he comes into contact with your panties. They’re soaking, so much wetter than he expected, and when he cups his big, cold hand over the seat of them, you shiver and buck up into his touch. 

“How long has it been for you?” Wonwoo asks, as if it hasn’t been literal years for him. 

“Um, a while, it’s been… a while,” you admit, seemingly shy for the first time. He should reassure you, but he likes the way you shrink beneath him, likes even more the thought of being your first in however long. He plans on being your last for the foreseeable future, so it’s only right he’s the one to break your dry spell. 

“Good,” he grins wickedly down at you, pulling your panties to the side and letting his fingers glide through your arousal. You’re soft, and sopping wet, and hot, so fucking hot, just for him, and already he’s wondering if he’ll be able to make good on his words.

If he’ll be able to hold himself back from you long enough to make you beg for it. 

He’ll do his best though, for you, and that starts with not grinding himself into your thigh. He needs to forget about his own pleasure, focus solely on yours, or he’ll be balls deep inside you before he’s even made you cum once. 

That won’t do, not when he wants you writhing on his fingers and pleading for his cock. 

So he pulls his hips away from you and tucks the tip of one digit into your entrance, sliding it in slowly enough that your face crumples in impatience, a low whine escaping you when he just leaves it there and drags his thumb over your clit. 

He wants to take his time, wants to learn you with his hands and his teeth and his tongue, wants to catalog your reactions and be able to take you apart diligently, passionately, like you deserve. 

This teaches him that you don’t like to be teased, and he decides to shelve the idea of edging for another day. He’ll go with overstimulation instead, he thinks, working another finger inside and rubbing more firmly with his thumb. Your face relaxes, your mouth opening on a sigh, and Wonwoo can’t resist leaning down to suck at your plump bottom lip as he curls his fingers inside of you, not yet searching for the spot that will make you gush for him. 

He’ll find it when he’s ready, when he feels like he’s built you up enough, and then he’ll use it to push you over the edge as many times as you can take. For now, he’ll savor the taste of your noises and start stretching out your perfect cunt. 

He pulls away from your mouth, fully aware that he could get lost in your kiss and intent on talking to you more before he lets that happen. 

“You feel so fucking good wrapped around my fingers like this. You know that, don’t you? You know how your cunt hugs them, sucks them in deeper and deeper, because you touch yourself, right?” 

You nod and Wonwoo allows it, won’t make you follow all of his rules until next time, until he’s sure you can handle it. 

“Did you touch yourself for me that night? After we met?” He asks softly, rewarding you with a tap right into your sweet spot when you cry out, “Yes!” 

“Did you say my name when you came?” His fingers pick up speed inside of you, fucking in and out to the beat of his own pounding heart. 

“Yes, Wonwoo,” you whimper, your hands twisting in the sheets above your head and your eyes squeezing shut before he pulls his fingers out and lands a wet smack on your inner thigh. You gasp and try to close your legs but Wonwoo is stronger than you, holds them open with both hands before leaning in close to kiss the stinging skin and say, “Keep your eyes on me.”

You nod tearily, holding his gaze as he sinks his fingers back inside of you and hovers close enough to your pussy that he’s sure you can feel his breath. He quirks his fingers up just as his tongue makes contact with your clit, and the way your lashes flutter but don’t fall brings a proud smirk to his face. 

“You’re a good listener, aren’t you?” He murmurs into your cunt. You start to answer but then he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, and you shudder out a moan instead. The sound sends electricity zipping down his spine and straight into his cock, making it throb for you in his slacks. 

He ignores it, shifting to rest on his knees and sucking harder, grinding his fingertips up into your front wall so he can draw that same sound out of you again. He told you before that he wanted to hear every little noise he could pull from you, and he meant it, including noises that don’t come from your mouth. 

You’re getting so wet, he can hear it, his fingers squelching inside of you with every thrust, every curl. He doesn’t remember his past partners being so aroused, and he’s already obsessed, already dead set on making you fucking drench him. 

He knows all he needs to do is make you cum and you’ll give him exactly what he wants, so he taps into your g-spot with more force, fucking his fingers into you hard and fast until your cries reach a fever pitch and your back arches. He doesn’t stop, dragging you through your orgasm and pushing you further even as your cunt ripples and squeezes around his fingers, the sensation so intense he almost feels the phantom pulse of you around his dick, too. 

It makes him groan, a deep, dark sound muffled by your pussy, and that seems to be what sends you careening over the edge again, your thighs attempting to clamp shut around him. He lightly smacks one with his free hand, gripping the soft fat and pushing it up and out so he has enough room to work. The other settles on his shoulder but he doesn’t mind that, likes the weight of it, wants you to feel stable and secure as he takes you apart piece by piece. 

You’re writhing on his hand, just like he wanted, your gaze teary and nearly empty, like your beautiful brain is focused on him and him alone, and ohhhh, he likes that, he likes that a lot. He wants to wreck you, wants to leave you with nothing in your head but thoughts of him and when he’ll make you break again. 

He doesn’t know if you can, but he’s desperate to see you flood him, to make you squirt all over him, regardless of the fact that this shirt is dry clean only. He’ll scrub it out in the sink if he has to, doesn’t care what happens to the fibers if it means he can make you cum hard enough to ruin them. 

You’re getting close again, he thinks with lurid satisfaction, his hand a blur between your thighs. He pulls away to murmur, “Hold your leg for me,” waiting for understanding to spark in your eyes. You wrap your hand beneath your knee and manage a wobbly smile, and Wonwoo feels affection burst in his chest like a firework, his lips curving in response as he brings his now free hand to your cunt. 

His fingers push at the crest of your pussy, exposing your swollen clit for his thumb to cover, the pad of it pressing down and rubbing harsh circles. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes water, your mouth stuck open on a needy moan that grows louder with every tap of your g-spot. It’s a whine soon enough, one that hitches in your throat as he fucks you with his fingers, and when he grinds his fingertips deep into you, he sees alarm grow in your eyes. 

You try to warn him but you can’t seem to speak, only blubbers of his name gracing his ears, making him grin ferally and say, “Don’t worry, baby, I want it to happen. I want you to fucking soak me, now.”

He honestly didn’t expect that to work but apparently, you can cum on command, or, as he tells himself, on his command, because you suck in a deep breath and keen for him. Your cunt flutters wildly around his fingers, clenching down on them and sucking them in before tightening to the point that he can’t move them, his fingertips locked into your sweet spot as you fucking gush. 

He can feel it spraying out onto his face and dampening his button down, arousal flowing out of you like a rushing river, making him groan out, “Fuck yes, just like that.” 

His voice is gravelly and low, desire deepening its pitch, and you shiver above him, though that may have more to do with the thumb still strumming your clit and the fingers still plugging you up. 

He could go again but he doesn’t want to push you too far this first night, doesn’t know where your limits lay or if you’re ready for him to find out for himself, so when your walls finally release his fingers, he slowly pulls them out and gently cups your pussy to help you calm down. 

He’s surprised when you speak, and even more shocked that it’s enough to make him laugh out loud. 

“All that and you didn’t even take my dress off,” you mumble, letting go of your thigh and reaching down to drift a hand over his hair, petting him like he’s an animal you’ve domesticated. 

Maybe he is, and maybe you have. You’re the only one that’s ever made him want to stay, to plant roots, to be domestic. 

Fondly, he says, “I did that on purpose. Now whenever you wear it, you’ll think about me.”

“I don’t need the dress to think about you, Wonwoo, I promise you that,” you hum, letting your eyes slip closed and missing the way his gaze fills with infatuation as he rests his cheek on your thigh and wraps his hands around your ankles. 

His glasses are splattered with you and so is the rest of him, his cock is hard and aching and leaky, and his knees are all but decimated from kneeling on your wood floor for so long, but Wonwoo has never been happier in his life. 

“Will you fuck me now?” 

His brows raise in disbelief, his fingers twitching on your legs, and he stands as quickly as he can manage, bracing one hand beside your head and taking hold of your chin with the other. You blink open your eyes to look at him, the haze in them just a bit clearer, though he’s sure your thoughts are still clouded with pleasure. 

“You still want me?” He asks in full seriousness, his dick pulsing at the thought of feeling your flawless cunt wrapped around it. 

“Yeah, you gonna make me beg?” You murmur, your gaze just a touch defiant. 

He wants to fuck that rebelliousness out of you. 

“I said I’d like to, didn’t I?” He responds slowly, greed simmering in his veins and surely obvious on his face. 

Your eyes narrow before you visibly collect yourself, finding that submissive side you seemed to lean into before. He watches as you let it take over, shrinking beneath him somehow, the expression on your face needy and compliant.

“Please Wonwoo, please give me your cock. I’ve thought about it since we met, since I noticed how built you were under that soaking white shirt. Your shoulders are so broad and your hands are so big and you’re so much taller than me. All I wanted was for you to pin me down and fuck me however you liked, and that’s still all I want.”

He sucks in a deep breath through his nose, carefully concealing how fucking wild your words make him feel. He needs to maintain this illusion of control or you’ll gain the upper hand, and he can’t let that happen. He’s already going to give you exactly what you want, he’ll die before he lets you be smug about it too. 

It takes everything in him but he manages to pull away, releasing your chin and standing at his full height, a smirk rising at the way your hands leave their place above your head to cling to him. 

“Get up. Take your dress off,” he commands stoically, backing up and giving you space to push off the bed onto your feet. Your hands tremble as you reach for the hem, and in a brief moment of tenderness, he covers them with his and lifts it with you, laughing and helping you wrench it off when it gets stuck at the elbows. 

He stops laughing when you fling the dress onto the chair in the corner of your room and stare up at him, clad in just your skewed panties and a little bitten off grin. His eyes fall to your breasts, the shape and weight of them immaculate, just begging for his mouth. He fully plans on worshiping them at the next possible opportunity, but he’s got a different goal in mind now. His hands gravitate to your hips, fingertips tucking in the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down before returning to push you gently toward the bed. 

“Lay down for me.”

Wonwoo doesn’t know why he’s being soft on you now. He’s still hard enough to cut glass but something in him just can’t be harsh when he feels like he does about you, especially after you already took what he gave you so well. Maybe it’s the vulnerable look in your eyes, maybe it’s the way his heart feels three sizes too big for his chest. 

But maybe it’s because when he looks back on your first time together, he doesn’t want it to look like his previous encounters. He wants it to look like a couple that loves each other, that knows they want to be together, that will make sacrifices for each other. 

Obviously, dominating you can still look like that, but right now his soul aches to be gentle with you. Emotionally, at least. 

He’s still going to fuck you into your mattress, he’ll just be kinder about it. 

You can tell that something has shifted in him and somehow it makes you even more pliant, your face open as you patiently wait for his next instruction. He doesn’t give one yet, reaching up to take his glasses off and wipe away the drying release with the edge of his button down before setting them on your night stand. 

He works on getting naked, swiftly unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off, carelessly letting it float down to the floor as he undoes his pants. He removes his socks next, pairing them up and dropping them to the side before pushing down his boxer briefs. 

It occurs to him that you haven’t talked about safety at all, and as he climbs over you, his thick, leaking dick dragging against your skin, he asks, “Do we need a condom?”

You swear under your breath and look down, biting your lip before whispering, “I’m not on birth control, and I have condoms but I honestly don’t think they’ll fit you. Do you have any?” 

He swears too, remembering the expired one in his wallet and sighing, “Not one that we could use. I get tested regularly and I’m negative for everything, but what do you wanna do?” 

“Um, well… I haven’t had sex since I last got tested and everything was clear, so what if you pull out? I track my cycle and I’m not ovulating right now.”

It’s risky, and sex without a condom isn’t something Wonwoo’s ever had, but he wants you more than anything, and he believes in his ability to honor your wishes and pull out when he needs to. 

“Let’s do that this one time, and I’ll get condoms for the future,” he agrees, smiling at the way your eyes get brighter when he says ‘future’. 

He settles back into his role seamlessly, though this time, he’s less domineering and more caring, to be sure. Your legs are already spread for him, but he slips his hands under your knees and tucks them up to your chest, resting your calves on his shoulders and setting one hand on the bed to hold himself up. 

The other reaches for his dick, and he fights back a shiver at the chill of his own touch, his perpetually cold hands freezing compared to his searing hot cock. He can’t help but lay it over your pussy, feeling his ears and the back of his neck tingle with a blush when he estimates where he’ll end inside of you. 

You squirm beneath him and he brings his hands back to your thighs, pulling his hips back enough to notch the head of his dick in your entrance before starting to push inside. You’re tight like this, all folded up, but your walls part to welcome him like he’s a missing piece of you, like he’s always been meant to fill you up when you’re empty. 

He moves slowly, not to tease you but to savor you, luxuriating in the feeling of your velvet heat, your perfect cunt as it forms around him. It could be minutes or hours before he bottoms out, but when he does, he almost can’t think, he’s so consumed by sensation. 

He closed his eyes without realizing it, and now he forces them open, only to find you already staring up at him, your gaze unwavering and your hands coming up to hold his where they push at your thighs. 

You seem breathless, and it’s probably partly due to the position but Wonwoo prefers to think it’s because you’re as overwhelmed as he is, so wrought with pleasure that it toes the line of pain. 

You’re still shorter than him, even like this, so he has to curve down to kiss you but it’s worth it because you bloom for him, moaning into his mouth and clenching around his cock when he glides his tongue against yours. With your lips still pressed to his, he draws his hips back a few inches, enough to feel air cling to the wetness on his cock, before thrusting inside sharply. His hips meet your ass with a loud smack, the only other noise in the room being your muffled whimpers and the wet sound of his lips moving against yours. 

Again, he pulls out, almost to the tip this time, and sends his hips forward, grunting at the feeling of your cunt embracing him. It’s perfection, you’re perfection, and he resolves to be nothing but perfect for you too. 

He swallows your sounds and categorizes them; you whimper when he pulls out far and thrusts in deep, moan when he just grinds himself into you, yelp when he fucks you with sharp, fast bucks of his hips. He follows their lead like he’s untying a knot or working through a maze, methodically dismantling you down to your nuts and bolts. 

You’re barely kissing him back when he finally derives the best combination of pace and depth, your lips quivering against his as you whine continuously, the pitch rising every time he reaches the end of you. Your eyes are open but they’re glazed over, and he can’t tell if he’s fucked you dumb or fucked you to tears but either way, it makes his lips stretch in a vicious grin. 

He loves kissing you but that’s not what’s happening anymore, so he pulls away and puts more of his weight on your thighs, using the leverage to fuck into you harder. He doesn’t go faster, knowing that if he does, this will end far sooner than he wants it to. 

He’d like to draw at least one more orgasm from you before he cums, and he can’t do that if he’s got even more friction on his cock. He’s a little surprised there is any with how wet you are, but you’re perfectly matched to his size so your walls grasp him tight every time he pulls back, the drag of them flawless on his sensitive skin. 

Your sounds are louder now that he’s not muffling them with his mouth, melodic in his ears and something he knows he’ll reproduce in his mind again and again, whenever he’s away from you and feeling particularly lonely. 

He’ll have to cut down on his traveling now that he’s got you, but that doesn’t scare him like it used to. Instead, he’s excited to have someone who makes him want to stay and build a home, build a life. He kind of feels like this is the first step, making you his and giving himself to you in return, and it’s enough to make his cock twitch and leak just a little bit of precum inside of you. 

He takes that for the warning it is, consciously veering away from thoughts of domesticity and belonging before dedicating the whole of his body to making you cum. He pushes away from you to sit up on his knees and haul your ass into his lap, your calves still resting on his shoulders and his dick just barely inside of you. 

He angles his hips and thrusts back in shallowly, no longer hitting as deep but aiming the head of his cock at that innervated patch inside of you. Your eyes grow wide and you suck in a deep gasp, your fingers clenching around his where they hold your legs, your reaction letting him know he’s got you. 

He fucks into that spot relentlessly, wondering if he can make you cum with just his cock. He stimulated your clit before too but you feel like you’re getting close, and he doesn’t want to change something trying to help only to hinder you instead. 

He doesn’t have much time to think before you’re crying out his name urgently, your tone plaintive and your voice thin. It sounds like you’re right on the edge, looks like it too, your brows screwed up in pleasure and your eyes bright with bliss. He’s almost as close as you are, his orgasm spooled up at the base of his spine and ticking like a time bomb, just waiting for him to let himself go. 

“Cum, baby,” he pants, hoping beyond hope that you’ll listen and obey just one more time. He doesn’t know how much longer he can hold on, prays that he’ll be able to endure the euphoria your climax will bring, that he won’t have to ruin it by pulling out while you’re deep in its thrall. 

But you do listen, thank fuck, you do, your eyes rolling back and your cunt clamping down on him in a vise grip, the sheer heat and wetness of you enough to pull a strangled groan from deep in his throat. It takes everything in him not to cum with you, the feeling incredible and the sight just as glorious, the impact of both beyond the realm of imagination. 

He lasts just long enough to get you through your aftershocks, his chest heaving for air as he makes himself pull out of the eden of your cunt. Blood rushes in his ears and fluffy cotton candy fills his head, his thoughts no more than paper airplanes gliding on a warm breeze. He watches his cum cover your perfect tits in white stripes, feeling as if he’s out of his body and out of his mind. 

Your hands squeeze his and you breathe his name, slowly pulling him back to you, like he’s a balloon that’s floated away and you’ve miraculously caught his string. You’re blurry in his vision and he can’t tell if it’s because he doesn’t have his glasses on or if he’s just crying, but either way he releases your legs and leans in close to see you better. 

You cup his cheeks and pull him into a soft kiss, the soothing, reassuring pressure bringing him back down to earth, back to you. He should be the one taking care of you right now, but he feels like he’s been cracked open, his soul and his heart bare, unprotected. 

“You’re okay,” you whisper, petting his cheekbones with your thumbs, and that’s what restarts him. 

He presses his lips to yours ardently, gathering up all of his feelings and pouring them into you, the intensity drawing a gentle sigh that travels from your mouth to his. He breathes it in before pulling away and focusing on you.

Lying down next to you, he pulls you into his arms, uncaring of the sticky cum that smears on his chest when your breasts press against him. He holds you for a while, until his heartbeat feels close to normal and his head feels close to clear. He’s about to drift off when he remembers how dirty you both still are.

“Do you want to shower?” He asks in a low voice, grinning at the way your face scrunches in displeasure at the thought before you look up at him and respond, “Are we going to fuck again tonight?” 

He thinks on it for a moment, weighing options and offering his opinion, “I don’t want to tempt fate too many times, so I think we should just go to sleep for now and go out for condoms and Plan B tomorrow morning. Then I’ll fuck you all day, if you want.” 

You smile serenely and nod, your eyes already half lidded with exhaustion. 

“Does that mean you do want to shower, then?” He confirms, his fingers drumming on your bare back. 

“Yeah,” you pout, obviously reluctant to get up and get clean. 

“I’ll go start it and come get you when it’s warm. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll do all the work,” he promises you, grinning when your pout stretches into a pleased little smile. 

He climbs out from under you and off the bed, walking on shaky knees to the bathroom, his soft cock hanging between his legs. He wonders if you have a washer, his shirt and boxers are not usable in their current state, but he can just use the sink if he needs to. He’ll have to go back to his hotel sometime tomorrow, to change and gather his things for his flight back home, and he’s already dreading the idea of it. 

It would be nice if he could get his film camera, maybe take a few pictures of you to tide him over until his transfer is finalized and he can find an apartment here. He feels like you’d be up for that, imagines photographing you in all kinds of positions and varying states of undress, safe in the knowledge that he can rent a darkroom and develop them himself. 

He struggles for a minute but figures out your shower eventually, turning it on and standing by until steam gathers on the mirror. He catches a glance at himself just before it fogs over, blushing at the image staring back at him. 

His lips are swollen and red, his cheeks flushed with exertion and joy, his eyes luminous for what feels like the first time in years. You’ve made your mark on him, tattooed him in gold, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever be the same. 

That’s not something he minds. He even finds himself smiling at the idea of rearranging his pieces to fit with yours, of making space in his life for you and Anubis to fill. 

When he leaves the bathroom to get you, the cat is laying on the dining table, sprawled out with his eyes closed, and Wonwoo breathes a sigh of relief. If he’s being honest, he forgot entirely that there was another being in this apartment, and he’s glad your activities didn’t seem to disturb him. 

He wants to smooth a hand down Anubis’s side but doesn’t want to wake him, so he stares at the cat for just a second longer before turning to your bedroom and poking his head through the door frame. 

You’re starfishing on the bed, his cum mostly dry on your tits and your eyes gently shut, and he can’t contain the laugh that bubbles out of his chest. 

Like mother, like son.

Wonwoo draws in a deep, centering breath as he raises the camera to his bespectacled eye, grateful not for the first time that he’s in the city of love. 

This will be the first proposal he’s photographed today, the third this week, and for someone who’s always thought he didn’t mind love, he finds himself unbelievably excited. 

He calls your name, watches dust motes float through a shining sunbeam as you stir in the bed you share, your tired gaze finding him before it lands on the book beside you. Or, more accurately, on the ring sitting on the book beside you. 

You draw in a sharp gasp, your eyes flying to his, and he depresses the shutter button just as your face breaks into a beam bright enough to rival a supernova. 

He thinks this will be his favorite photograph yet. 

AN: And the book was titled April Shower and it contains your love story as written by your best friend, the end 💖

“Prendi una stanza!” - "Get a room!"

“É la città dell'amore, Stefano, dacci una pausa!” - "It's the city of love, Stefano, give us a break!"

“Y/n? Vai avanti, caro!” - "Y/n? Carry on, dear!"

My Masterlist

#kaili 🪢 #svthub #k vanity #wonwoo fic #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo smut #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x y/n #seventeen smut #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt smut #svt fanfic #svt x you #svt x y/n #kpop oneshots #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios

[readychilledwine]

Lost Bonds pt 4

Summary - The last thing Tamlin planned to have happen was a bond snapping between him and Y/N Archeron. Now the big question becomes, is it too late to fix what has been broken?

Warnings - stereotypical happy ever after, grudges, cutting ties with family, rhysand being a decent brother in law, divorce, children, babies, pregnancy, reader's powers are yin to Nesta's yang, loosely edited (squint away any mistakes💕)

A/n - I know some people might be upset with the direction this ended in, but it felt... right? Forgive me.

✨️Tamlin Masterlist✨️

Lost Bonds: Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

The Fire in Spring *can be read as a bonus Calanmai smut scene*

Rhysand was eerily calm as Azriel approached his office with Feyre. For the first time since her arrival here, Feyre would be in a seat he typically only forced the Inner Circle to instead of at his side.

Rhys sat and waited, hands laced together as they entered. “You are probably wondering why I asked you two to come in. Sit.” He motioned to the chairs across from him, not missing the look of confusion on Feyre's face. He waited for them to settle before saying the one thing he knew would begin the fight he prepared himself for, “I sent y/n to Spring yesterday. For Calanmai.”

Azriel's hands instantly twitched, and the fight began.

Three weeks had past with you and Tamlin and Tamlin and you. They were spent deep in the throes of passion. In need and want and want and need and every lingering emotion in between.

He had worshiped you. Truly and fully. He explored every inch of skin, tasting and kissing it every time like it was his last meal, like these were his last moments and he would rather spend them nowhere else than between the thighs he had become obsessed with.

It had taken 3 weeks for the bond to cool down enough for him to attempt to go back to his duties. He still ached for you and the completion that came with being yours, and you ached as well. You were like air to each other. Something so simple, yet so vital to life.

He sighed as he entered his office and sat in front of Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel. “You selfish-”

His hand went up. “If you're going to start throwing names around, shadowsinger, I have several for you. Be silent and allow me to discuss this with your lord and lady.”

Rhys was the first to speak after the blatant dismissal. “Where is she?”

“She should be resting. She's had a long morning already. She spent the morning with other Ladies of the Court discussing the upcoming Summer celebrations. I believe she is still socializing, though. I do not keep track of her constantly. She is a grown adult.”

Feyre scoffed and Tamlin raised his brow at her before she instantly looked down. “Is she happy?”

“Happier than I've been in a long time,” you entered the room, long hair falling in waves, an apricot colored dress swaying as you did. The colors of Spring made you even more radiant, your skin glowing, eyes dancing with light that had been missing for several years. “I assume you brought papers for me.”

You moved to Tamlin, standing behind him and holding a hand out for his. Feyre was shaking, refusing to look at you. “If you sign this, if you choose to stay, I never want to see you again.” The words should have cut like a knife, but all you could do was sigh.

“Would you like me to stay in Night then?”

Azriel glared towards Tamlin. “Its where you belong. Where your husband is. Where your family is.”

“Where your mate is,” you began to trail on for him. “Where you can have your cake and eat it too. Where your family has spent the past 4 years letting you make a fool out of me. Fond memories, yes.”

“Our marriage wasn't always unhappy, y/n.”

“No. But it became unhappy the second you had an affair. Sign the papers, Azriel.”

Rhysand stayed oddly silent, as did Tamlin, the two high lords were in a silent conversation regarding the scent only they seemed to be able to detect. You were not leaving Spring, not when you, albeit unknowingly, were carrying its salvation inside of you.

Tamlin pointed to the line that would grant you your freedom. Tapping it twice in a silent message to you to sign and stay at his side as he watched Azriel. He had no doubt the male planned on grabbing you, upset that he was losing his own claim to a made sister, upset that the Cauldron had paired him with another.

Tamlin knew his look. The look of a male who wanted everything with no compromise. He remembered being there. Being that male. He knew the pain that came with it, the anger. He watched you sign, signature so flawless and soft, curling the page that gave you freedom and you stepped back. Hiding that joy that was flooding him as you did.

“I won't stop fighting for you.”

You shook your head as you laid the ring on the desk and slid it to him. “You will. You will realize this was best for both of us in time. You will find happiness, peace, and what you are looking for.”

“I won't sign.”

Rhysand pinched his nose and then picked at his jacket, a nervous habit now instead of obsession. “Azriel, sign the papers.”

“I won't-”

“You will because I have tolerated every moment of this bull shit knowing it is against every law we have honored for thousands of years.” Tamlin was oddly calm, hand still in yours. “I tolerated it for her happiness.”

“She was happy with me.”

“Until 4 years ago, yes.”

You turned to Rhysand, eyes pleading. “Please.” Her brother in law nodded, taking her side and owning his error another time.

“Sign the papers, Azriel.” Feyre and Azriel seemed to freeze. It was a set command, one the shadowsinger would not be able to push. “Sign the papers.”

“I will never forgive you for this.”

Rhys shrugged. “I'll add it to the many times I was doing what was best for everyone else but made the bad guy. Sign the papers.”

Azriel stared at Tamlin as he signed the papers before taking the ring and standing. He left without saying goodbye, without looking back at you one last time. Without even so much as a sign of the love you two once shared.

“You will never see Nyx again.” Tamlin tugged the bond, sending you his love and support regardless of what you picked but silently begging you to stay.

Your throat tightened as you looked to Feyre, “Are you truly that selfish? Without Tamlin, you would not even have Nyx. You wouldn't have a mate.” She glared at you, chin head high as you continued, “you were never met to be Tamlin's, Feyre. Imagine a world where you would have just let me go, where I came here as the person who was supposed to.” She suddenly looked away, eyes squeezing shut as she did. “If that is the road you would like us to go down, consider it done. You are no longer my sister, no longer my other half, no longer part of me. If my happiness means this little to you, then we need to part ways.”

Feyre just nodded, standing and holding her hand out to Rhysand. Your brother in law shook his head, nodding for her to go. He sunk further into the chair he was in before looking to you and Tamlin. “Congratulations,” in was sincere, soft. Rhys grabbed your hand, kissing the palm. “You will always have a home in Velaris.”

10 years later

Tamlin sighed quietly next to you, bouncing your third child and daughter, Willow, on his lap as the other two sat. Oakland, your oldest son, was reading with his back leaned against your legs. Fleur, your middle daughter, was sitting by the glittering fish pond every court was circling.

High Lord's meetings were now quarterly. A way of holding each other all in check and accountable. Each one was more of a bitchfest than productive, but it had allowed relations between several courts to improve.

This one had been called due to Helion stepping down. With Beron gone, Autumn stable, and his mate and son finally at his side, the High Lord decided there was no better way to celebrate than relinquishing his powers to Lucien and enjoying the lost time he should have had with Andromeda.

Lucien looked to Tamlin, a little lost on the question Rhysand was asking before clearing his throat to answer, “I will not be enforcing rank and class if that's what you are asking. Fae are fae. Lower or higher does not matter to me. Laws will be enforced, tax will be enforced, and opportunities will be fair.” Rhys seemed content in that answer, looking at Feyre and Nyx before nodding.

You two knew you were next and Tamlin sighed as he handed Willow to you, much to her protest. “Spring is fully rebuilt and has implemented a version of Tarquin’s laws that work best for us,” the mentioned high lord smiled and raised his bubbling wine. “Our army is young, growing, but eager.”

He looked to you, “We would appreciate the spies being removed from our court, though. We are willing to answer any questions someone may have. We feel the use of spies in unnecessary. We have opened our boarders and home to anyone."

“The mortals,” Eris began slowly. “They are?”

“Part of our court as of two months ago,” you answered for Tamlin. “We are the only court they agreed to form a pact with. Jurian and Vassa will remain ruling over them as a better connection point.”

Eris hummed. Satisfied with the answer.

“Will they be asking to travel?” Kal watched his daughter, stopping her before her snow pale hand touched the pond with a soft no. “There are concerns over them coming to Winter. They were not made for such temperatures.”

Tamlin nodded, “We had hoped to discuss that with each court one on one. They are… beautiful, curious creatures. They want to travel the courts and experience different foods and lifestyles. Provisions will need to be made for that to happen, though.”

You couldn't help but smile, hearing what you used to be called beautiful by the most stunning male you had ever seen. His hand moved to rest on your thigh, squeezing softly as the next question came.

“The growth in Spring, the herbs, the medicinal plants, the food, flowers,” Thesan took a short pause as he and his mate communicated silently. “How did that happen?”

Tamlin squeezed your thigh again. “Nesta was blessed with the powers of death. Y/n was blessed with the powers of fertility and live. Her presence alone has brought light and growth back to Spring.”

“And children,” Kal murmured. You chuckled softly. You knew your every growing family was a source if jealousy from several other High Lords and Ladies.

“Yes, and children. The increase of faelings in Spring has been our biggest blessing. We are averaging 20-25 babes a year instead of the standard 3.”

You watched Rhys smile behind his hand as Feyre still refused to look your way. “And how many more do you two plan on having?” The question came from Cassian. He had taken to his nieces and nephew like they were second nature to him. He was their favorite uncle, and Nesta was fighting Elain hard for favorite Auntie.

Tamlin looked at you. “Perhaps we will be done after this new one arrives.” You shook your head quickly, lip pouting out. “I promised her 12.” Eris and Lucien both spit out their wine. Having grown up with many siblings, the two of them both looked shocked as Helion and Lady Autumn both smiled wide. “We will decide here in a month or two.”

Your hand absentmindedly moved to your very swollen stomach. This one was a boy. You felt it in your soul, and new Tamlin was secretly excited over the idea of another beautiful son.

The meeting came to a close as soon as Summer finished their updates. Tamlin helped you stand, moving his hand to your lower back as he walked you and your three toddlers out of the room. You could feel both of their eyes on you. A lingering cold Hazel gaze, a heartbroken blue one.

He tugged the bond softly before winnowing you home and immediately taking you to bed as the children's nannies all came to collect them for nap time.

“She looked regretful,” Tamlin unlocked your dress, kissing your shoulder softly. “She will approach soon.”

“It doesn't matter if she does.” The acceptance came so easily now. “We have each other, our family. We have this,” you tugged the bond. “Nothing will come between our happy ever after.” You held your pinky to his, and he wrapped his much larger one around it. “To us and our happy ever after then.”

“To us, petal.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria

Lost Bonds Taglist:

@impossibelle @fxckmiup @applerubyy @awkardnerd @sleepylunarwolf @macimads @esposadomd @stormhearty @starcrossedsan @justasillylittlegoofyguy @thisblogisaboutabook @ohemgeewhat @mybestfriendmademe @isa1b2h3 @b0xerdancer @forever-paramore28 @circe143 @ancientbeing10 @disgruntledturtleduck @fandomarchiveilyd

#acotar #acotar x reader #tamlin x reader #tamlin x archeron!reader #tamlin x yn #tamlin x y/n #tamlin x you #tamlin acotar

[wittyminds]

More Than A Feeling

This was just a random idea to distract me from revising for my exams. I'm slightly obsessed with him at the moment and just wanted to write some fluff that would make me even more sad than i already am. I know I also said that I would be doing a bucky barnes fic but... i got distracted and now can't commit to writing it. I'll probably write it eventually but i can't bring myself to do it right now.

I was also listening to More Than A Feeling by Boston when writing this so... it stuck.

Just a small fic of Steve Harrington and a bookworm reader girlfriend who is also Dustin's sister after their first time and the "chaos" that ensues.

Warnings: Fluff fluff fluff, Suggestive, Both Steve's and Reader's 'first time'

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Dustin couldn't understand how it all happened or exactly when you stopped disliking the King of Hawkins but he was convinced it would all end in heartbreak. He did like Steve Harrington after he protected them all from all the dangers they had faced over the years. But dating his sister was a different matter.

To say he is overprotective of you would be an understatement.

You had spent your entire life protecting him from bullies and assholes and now it was his turn to keep you from the possible heartbreak that was Steve Harrington.

So when he peaked through the door to your room and saw the two of you curled round each other fast asleep, he couldn't help but feel upset and scared for you. It clearly wasn't the first time Steve had snuck through the window without anyone but you knowing and the thought brought disgust to his gut. He had invited his friends round as your parents were away. He now regretted the idea and wished he had agreed when Mike suggested his house instead.

He wasn't being dramatic, he had every right to believe that you could end up like all the other girls.

Before he could wake you both up, though, his friends had pulled him back and disappeared back into his room to discuss what they had just seen.

Steve, on the other hand, couldn't be happier.

Your head rests on his chest, arms wrapped round his body. A sheet covers you and he brings his hand up and down your arm gently as he gazes at you asleep. He has been like this since he woke up to see you curled round him, hair a mess, no makeup on and breathing softly onto his bare chest.

What had happened the night before had surprised you both, if he was quite honest with himself. He had been ready from the second date with you but you had made it clear that you wanted to wait. He had thought he was ready when he dated Nancy but when the time came, he froze and ruined the moment.

But now, here you were snuggled up close with memories of the night before playing through your dreams as your boyfriend watches over you lovingly. He can't remember ever loving anyone as much as he loves you and all he wants is to tell you, and keep you by his side till the day he dies.

Just as his hand stops grazing your arm, you roll over off of him and wriggle onto your side, still facing him. Your lips pull up into a brief smile before dropping again. He shifts his body onto his side too and props his head onto his arms, watching as your eyebrows pull together and your eyes flutter open slowly.

A huge grin falls onto his lips as you look up groggily with a bashful smile.

"Morning, beautiful." His voice is still husky from sleep and a thousand butterflies take flight in your stomach.

"Morning." You rub a hand over your eyes to try and wake up properly, to no avail.

"I was gonna make breakfast, if you're hungry." He lifts his head off his arm to give you a playful look that is sleepily returned.

He gets up from the bed and tries to track down his trousers and socks before perching on the edge of the bed to give you a soft kiss that lingers longer than usual.

His blushing face then leaves your eyesight and you roll onto your back with a disbelieving laugh, quickly covering your mouth to stifle it.

You were still questioning how the two of you were even together, total opposites from different sides of the school. The King and a bookworm.

You suppose, in a weird way, you could thank the horrors that you had both witnessed over the past two years for bringing you together. But you don't want to give the Upside-Down any credit for your happiness given it was a hell like no other.

You can still remember how much you had disliked him at first, the way he acted, the way he spoke to people, the way he made you feel about yourself. His "friends" had given you hell for years and when he had finally stood up to them and broken up with Nancy, you had seen the better version of Steve Harrington who laughed and smiled and actually cared without any fear of being judged.

As you lie on your back, you cans still feel the gentle press of his hands on your skin, hear the whispered words "Are you sure?". Still feel his face buried in the crook of your neck, hear the hushed laughter when he first appeared over you with a bashful "Hello."

It couldn't have been more perfect and you could smile forever in your new bliss.

You wrestle your way out of the warmth of the bedsheets, grabbing the closest article of clothing to you: his navy sweater from yesterday. The sleeves fall over your hands and you bunch it up in fists as you open the door and walk into the hallway.

Dustin's door is still closed and you creep past, so as not to wake him. He wouldn't quit poking fun at you or Steve if he saw you now so it was better to be safe than sorry to leave him sleeping in. It was the holidays anyway.

You're suddenly startled by the sound of pots and pans crashing against each other, followed by the sound of a terribly hidden string of curses as whoever spilled the contents of the cupboard tried (and failed) to catch them.

When you reach the kitchen door, you can see Steve busy at the stove, pots and pans sitting haphazardly on the counter and floor. Without a word, you lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, and watch him attempt to work the stove. A smile plays on your lips and eventually, you clear your throat quietly to get his attention.

He whips round, only to notice that it's you.

"Morning... again." You murmur softly, still smiling.

God, it was like you slept with a hanger in your mouth or something.

"Morning," He turns away as his cheeks blush bashfully, and you can't help but feel warmth at the thought of making Steve Harrington blush. The thought nearly turns your legs to jelly and you walk over to the stove to keep them working.

You swat his hands away from the buttons with a laugh and stand in his place to turn the stove on, hearing his almost silent "Oh." as you show him how to work it.

His arms snake their way round your middle and his chin falls onto your shoulder, your face heating at the contact. He places soft kisses on your shoulder, then your neck, and you run your hands along his forearms.

"Steve." You feel him hug you tighter at his name and his hum of acknowledgement is disguised by another kiss, "Last night..."

You trail off and he laughs against your neck, moving away to turn you round. His nose scrunches as your hands move to the ends of his hair out of habit and he sways slightly.

"Yeah?" You can tell he's wanting you to talk more and you repress a sigh.

"I just wanted to say I..." You can't seem to finish the sentence as you gaze into his eyes, the whole scene perfectly homely. You didn't want to ruin it with a love confession that might be rejected.

He watches you with curious smirk and you open your mouth to speak again but he cuts you off with a sweet, slow kiss.

Your hands move further into his hair and his pull you closer by the waist. More memories of meaningful kisses and the whispered confessions whilst pressed close together from last night resurface in your mind. The feeling of his hands, his lips, just his touch made your head spin and your forehead falls onto his, not breaking the kiss.

"Oh come on!"

Your brother's voice startles you both and you break apart, Steve keeping a hold of your waist.

Dustin stands in the doorway, his friends lingering in the hallway, awkwardly watching the scene playing out. You feel your face burn and turn to your boyfriend for help, but he seems entirely unfazed.

"A bit of privacy wouldn't kill you, Henderson." Steve grumbles, ignoring the disgust on Dustin's face.

"I live here." Dustin replies matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.

"And..?" You can't help but hold back a laugh at your boyfriend's oblivion and he pulls a face at you which lets the laughter escape.

Dustin pulls a different kind of face, "Well, when you two are finished grossing everyone out, I'd like some pancakes."

You roll your eyes and walk over to him, placing your hands on his shoulders to turn him round. He begins to protest but gives up when you give him a sharp pinch on either side.

"Just go upstairs and do whatever it is you do together there," You give him your most serious look you can muster with a stomach full of butterflies.

"Fine," He stomps up the stairs, "But I'm serious about those pancakes!"

You watch his friends follow him up, quickly noticing the two girls and yell up a quick "Leave the door open!" before turning to return to the kitchen.

Max stops and gives you a look that makes you freeze and eye her curiously.

"Yes?" You ask quietly.

"I was just thinking that the sweater is real subtle." Her eyes move along the sweater and you shift uncomfortably under them.

"I-I don't know what you mean..."

She snorts out a laugh and runs up the stairs.

"Nice hickey, by the way!" She yells after her and you throw a shoe up the stairs that hits her legs.

"Teenagers." You mutter under your breath and turn back to the kitchen to see Steve leaning against the counter, a smirk playing on his pretty lips.

"Want to tell me what's going on in that head of yours, Harrington?" Your voice is quiet and he closes the distance between the two of you in four long strides.

His thumb grazes your chin, pushing your face up to his before he kisses you again, a contented sigh escaping him. Once again, your hands find his messy hair and he grips the sweater with a little more power than before.

"God, I love you." His words are almost hidden against your lips but you freeze and pull away slightly, out of breath from both the kiss and his confession.

A blush creeps up his face and you can't help but smile before giving him another quick peck on his lips, relief filling you.

How can you have thought this man didn't love you enough to say it when he had blushed and grinned the entire morning. You love him to Jupiter and back a thousand times and realise, you had always really known he feels the same.

So, when the words leave your mouth and leave him a blushing mess, you can't help but know that this is your future.

You and him.

"I love you too."

***

A/N

I really hope you liked it and just a reminder that my requests are open via messages so just ping me a message if you have a request for any of the characters from my first post. Thank you! xx

#x reader #fanfiction #fluff #x you fluff #xreader #gender neutral reader #female reader #steve harrington #joe keery #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #dustin henderson #max mayfield #eddie munson #billy hargrove #steve x you #steve x reader #steve stranger things

[gffa]

If you could change anything about the Prequel and the Sequel trilogies, what would it be?

I love the prequels, in all their both brilliant and dumbass glory, so as tempted as I am to say that I would have had Lucas find someone else to direct the prequels after Spielberg said no (I think he was firm in saying Lucas should do them?), I really love that mix of something genuinely good and something genuinely bonkers. I would change the Tuskens storyline to be less racist/the Neimoidians to have a different accent and I would put more Asian Jedi into the scenes, if you're going to base them on Buddhist monks, we could use a little more real world reflecting of that. The sequels on the other hand need an overhaul from top to bottom. At a bare minimum they needed to have at least planned the storyline out ahead of time and had a single vision instead of the tug-o-war that we got. I would not have made Kylo and Rey's characters all about each other, I would have spread the connections around more, given Kylo and Luke more than just the one scene together, I would have given Finn a better storyline, I would have given Poe a better backstory, I would have connected the storyline better in the movies to the world they inhabited (ie, use more established settings and alien races, etc.), I would have kept the OT trio to secondary characters, but also let them have reactions to each others' deaths in the same room, I wouldn't have made Han/Leia into that because how am I supposed to have fun with rewatching the originals knowing everything went to shit, I would not have brought Palpatine back (or at least I would have set it up from the beginning otherwise), etc. The sequels were in a difficult place, but even as many issues as I have with TFA (too much of a palette swap of ANH for my tastes), the pieces for a satisfying story were there, it's just that everyone wanted to take it in different directions and none of the three movies really seemed to get what Star Wars' themes were. I love the characters and there were great moments in there, but I would have sat them down with a bunch of Lucas interviews about what the themes of Star Wars was before starting and tried to give them a better foundation for understanding it.

#lumi.txt #star wars #sw negativity

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Okay so what if like the reader is a big prankster(preferably in Gryffindor) and she like plays a prank on the Slytherins but Blaise catches her and eventually it leads to spicy stuff 🥵🥵

I love this idea. Thank you! <3

Caught

Blaise Zabini x Gryffindor!F!Reader

Warnings: a teeny tiny bit of blackmail, unprotected sex, oral(male receiving), cussing

18+ Minors DNI!

You and your friends had a little rivalry with the Slytherin boys. It was all just pranks, nothing harmful. You guys didn’t hate each other, but you played into the house rivalry of Gryffindor vs Slytherin. You guys actually found it fun. No hard feelings between each other.

This time, you had the brilliant idea of rigging it so when they got their clothes out of their lockers next for quidditch, they would get covered in a red powder that stained the skin pretty well. So you snuck down to the locker rooms after you thought everyone had left. The locker rooms were empty so you started working on rigging all the lockers, which was definitely going to take a while considering how many you had to do.

You were about halfway done, trying to hurry up and finish just on the off chance that someone-

“What are you doing?” A voice said behind you and you jumped, turning around to see Blaise leaning against the lockers behind you. Shit.

“Nothing.” You lied, shutting the locker you were working on.

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” Blaise smiled. “You can tell me, I won’t be mad.”

You hesitated. If you told him, he would tell his friends and the prank wouldn’t work. But he might let you go. “A prank.”

“I can tell that much. What’s the prank?” He asked.

“The prank won’t work if I tell you.” You said, smiling sweetly.

He pushed off the lockers and took the few steps to step in front of you, leaning closer to your face. “I won’t tell.” He said, still smiling.

“I’m not saying anymore.” You said, backing up into the locker behind. Bad move.

He followed you, trapping you against the locker. “Come on. I won’t say anything. I just don’t wanna be on the receiving end of that prank.”

“No.” You shook your head.

“I could always go get Snape…” You knew he wouldn’t, but that threat hung in the air for a moment before you decided to do something stupid to save yourself.

You kissed him. You had wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and kissed him. His hands moved to your waist as he kissed you back, leaning you against the lockers. You were hoping to catch him off guard and then slip away, but he seemed ready and made it so you couldn’t just leave.

“Thought you would surprise me and then just get away, huh?” He said as he moved his lips to trail kisses along your neck.

“I was hoping so, yes. Seems you caught on.” You said, sighing softly at his kisses.

“I’m not as dumb as I look, love.” He said before biting softly at the skin on your neck.

“Clearly.” You moved a hand to tangle in his hair as a small moan escaped your lips.

“I’ll make you a little deal, then.” He said against your neck before moving to the other side. “I won’t tell anyone I saw you here, you can have your little prank, if you help me with something.”

“And what’s that something?” You asked, but you were sure you already knew the answer.

Instead of saying anything, he grabbed your arm and brought your hand to his crotch, where his dick was already straining against his pants. Your eyes widened slightly, but you didn’t move your hand away. You already were feeling yourself get wet from those kisses, you couldn’t deny part of you wanted it anyways. “So…Are you going to take the deal?” He asked, biting at your neck again.

“Yes.” You nodded.

“Good.” He said and pulled your hand away so he could undo his pants. He pushed them down along with his underwear and pulled away from your neck to see your face. You were staring at his cock and something about that look made him harder. “Come on. On your knees, baby.” He said and backed up to give you room.

You listened and got down on your knees, feeling the cold, uncomfortable ground. But you didn’t mind, you were too focused on his dick. You wrapped your hand around it, giving it a stroke before teasing his tip with your tongue, looking up at him. He moaned softly from your touch and wrapped his hand in your hair, pulling your hair away from your face.

“I think you can do better than that, right?” He said before pushing your head down so you took him in your mouth. You gagged as he hit the back of your throat and he groaned. He seemed to like that a lot. “Glad we could finally put your mouth to use since you didn’t wanna talk.” He teased as he guided your head up and down his cock. “Fucking hell, this is definitely a much better use of your mouth.” You moaned around him in response. “Wonder if your pussy’s better. You want me to fuck your pussy, baby?” You tried humming out a ‘yes’ around him, but that was a little hard when he kept hitting the back of your throat. He seemed to figure it out, though, because he pulled your mouth off of him and helped you stand up. “You really want it, ma?” He asked as he put his hands back on your waist.

“Yes. Please, I want it.” You nodded.

He smiled and moved to tug your bottoms and panties off before he worked on your shirt and bra. He pulled off his shirt as well and kissed you again, pushing you back against the lockers. He brought his hands to your legs and lifted you up, keeping you pressed against the lockers as he guided his cock to your entrance. “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?” He said before he started pushing in, making you moan in reply. He bottomed out and you both moaned as he leaned his forehead on yours. “You’re fucking tight, baby. Shit.” He said before he started thrusting.

“Oh my god. Fuck.” You moaned, throwing your head back against the lockers, your arms holding onto him tightly.

“Is that good? Does that feel good?” He asked, kissing along your jaw and neck again.

“Yes! Feels so good, Blaise!” You nodded.

“Are you trying to let everyone back at the castle know how good I’m making you feel?” He teased, but did nothing to quiet you.

“No! Fuck! Just feels so good.” You reply, crying out as he starts thrusting harder.

“Yeah? You wanna cum on my dick, beautiful?” He asked, moving a hand to rub at your clit.

“Fuck! Yes! Please!” Your nails were digging into his back now and he hissed slightly from the pain, but kept going.

“I don’t know. You were trying to play a prank on us. You think you deserve it?” He teased, biting down on your neck again, pulling a whimper from you.

“Yes! I’ve been so good for you. Please.” You nodded.

“Hm.” He hummed against your skin before pulling back. “Fine. I wanna see you cum then. Look at me.”

You tilt your head back down to look at him as he keeps fucking into you. It was hard to focus on him when your eyes wanted to roll back in pleasure, but you managed as you were moaning and crying out for him. Only a few more thrusts and you came, crying out his name like a prayer as he helped ride out your orgasm. He wasn’t far behind you as he pulled out and came on your stomach and tits.

He brought you over to the showers in the locker room and helped you clean up. You both went over to collect your clothes and get dressed afterwards. He went over to open his locker and before you could warn him, the powder exploded on him, covering the top half of his body and you stood there covering your mouth, trying not to laugh.

“You better run, baby.” He warned without even looking at you.

You finally laughed as you took off, leaving him in the locker room covered in the red powder.

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys smut #blaise zabini x reader smut #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini smut

[ciaonicole85]

ESCAPING INTO A SHIP

So what exactly made me latch onto the Sydcarmy ship like a leech on a water buffalo?

It was unexpected (for me)! Yes, the very first meeting between Syd and Carm did make an impact. I thought "Oooh, what's this?!" However, Carmy was/is such a mess that I quickly dismissed it. And Sydney just seemed to want his professional approval and a partner in making something great after the soul-crushing failure of Sheridan. So, the first season I personally didn't feel a mutual sexual/romantic tension, more like an automatic respect and shared goals/passions. Sydney nor Carm were obviously trying to flirt. Most slow burns on TV are 100% obvious like a Jeanine and Gregory (Abbott Elementary), Nick and Jess (New Girl), Jake and Amy (Brooklyn 99), Jim and Pam (The Office)...Until Braciole Ep. 8 that is.

S. 1 Episode 8- I won't get into everything but Carmy was desolate. Yes, he became a psycho chef and two people quit in Ep.7. However, he mourned Sydney more than Marcus. She was in his flashback/nightmare (?), then the way he told Tina that she looked like Syd (the poor pup), him texting her before opening the note from Mikey, and finally the most gorgeous locked gaze scene since Pride and Prejudice (2005). The soft lighting, the music, the colors, the mind-reading...magical. I still didn't get it initially. Silly, blind me.

Mentorship where??? Season 2 Carm and Syd's "mentorship" dynamic is pretty much over. They are true partners and spending more time together. They're dressing alike even when not in uniform, finishing each other's sentences or talking in unison. Sydney is opening up more of herself and Carm is asking to know more. They use the ASL sign for sorry with each other and no one else until ep 10. Then there's that locker scene in ep. 1 or 2, when they almost hang out just cause. However, Carmy misses the moment and there's the return of the kicked pup face. Before being on the ship I was delighted with all of their scenes and was looking forward to the food tour. They just ROCK together on screen.

Classic Love Triangle- Who's Claire? She's "Claire Bear", the prototypical "cool girl", who is willing to chase an socially awkward, wrong-number-giving man, despite being a pretty ER resident with no shortage of options. Did a CW writer get hired? Anyways, why was her presence used almost exclusively to put strain on Carmy and Sydney's relationship instead of The Bear generally? We could have had scenes with Nat, Richie, and Marcus arguing with Carmy about him being distracted due to Claire. They saved 99% of that for Sydney. They CHOSE to insert her in between or just after scenes with him and Claire. Showing Sydney's tattoos and her getting dressed with the stained chef's coat juxtaposed with them was WILD.

I LOVE that both believe their interpersonal problems are solely about The Bear/business partnership. In most "slowburns" the characters are far more conscious and actively work to keep things platonic. Jeremy might be a smidge aware that Sydney means more to him after the panic attack, but I bet he's shoved it down. All he knows afterward is that being with Claire feels wrong hence ignoring her call and recommitting to SYDNEY. He could of said "You all/This/The Bear deserve my full focus etc..." He was also nagged into greeting Claire at Friends and Family, seemed anxious when Fak brought her up right before The Table scene, and also while explaining that "she's great" to Sydney. He was at peace when focused on Sydney in the moment below.

The actors: Jeremy and Ayo's real life friendship is warms my soul and their chemistry onscreen is amazing. DON'T WASTE IT!!!

Jeremy smolders on screen. I want to see Carmy continue to stare, yearn, fall, then eventually confess and for Sydney to reciprocate his feelings. Anyhoo, does anyone else melt when Carm means business?! They do this twice in season one and it's not good for me. Whew, I need to clean my whole house or run a few miles.

Finally, there's so many other parallels between these two. They are fearful avoidants, have a missing or dead parent, jacked up stomachs, use sarcasm, but are generally very earnest, they struggle with anxiety, are compassionate, are perfectionists, peace-makers, give people multiple chances, are workaholics...so much more. A lot of that is also ME, lol.

Sydcarmy is my Roman Empire. I love them as much as you can fictional characters and they deserve the most tender, angsty, triumphant, romantic best-friends to more love story.

#get the straight jacket #I gotta clean my house now #the bear #sydcarmy #sydney x carmy #carmy x sydney #sydney adamu #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #syd adamu #friends to lovers #slow burn #love story #word vomit #thoughts #roman empire

[burntblueberrywaffles]

The Snowbaird fanfic rec list!

As usual, if anyone is interested in joining the snowbaird discord, just shoot me a dm for an invite!

Before we start, some notes:

As we all know Snowbaird is fucked up and toxic 😌😌 but there are;;; levels to it so for easy navigation I have color coded this fic rec! Blue is for fics that are less toxic (now that doesn’t necessarily mean there’s NO toxicity but it definitely stands on the sweeter side of the Snowbaird spectrum) whereas red stand for "god these fucked up bitches 😍😍" (though for me a big no no is loveless Snowbaird, so even the more toxic fics in this list they do love each other!) - Ive also added an orange category for the mid level fics/ones where I couldn’t quite decide where they would rank- still, do keep in mind that those rankings are based on my personal judgement (plus I’m going off memory for some of the fics) so they may not be fully accurate.

Im also adding a "heavy smut" mention to some of these fic - that means the smut takes center stage in the fic and is pretty much unavoidable to properly read the story, a lot of the other fics on this list will still contain smut, but to a lesser extent/in a way where it’s not an integral part of the plot - remember to read the tags and curate your reading experience!

Sadly several of these are incomplete - I have added a mention of when the last update was posted as of today (april 22, 2024)!

Anyways, now that all of that is out of the way, here are the recs!

Capitol AUs

Helpless, Tender, Open by perfectlystill

When his heartbeat stutters beneath her touch, when his mouth falls open, breathing heavy, Lucy Gray pops open her clutch. She’s the one pouring antidote down his throat.

Complete

if i'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? by eecwritess

It had been fifteen years since Lucy Gray Baird had escaped Coriolanus Snow at the cabin in District Twelve. But now, she had been captured. Brought back to the Capitol after all these years to be punished as a Rebel. But President Snow...well, he has offered to save her. Under one condition.

Heavy smut - complete

Songbirds, Snakes, and Wedding Rings by celestscrystal

“Even she can’t charm your way out of that predicament.” Dr. Gaul taunted. He was losing her. He could already see the disinterest in her eyes. Highbottom had been long gone, his plans at sabotage were shattered, now he was just waiting to leave. Coriolanus had to make this work. His Lucy Gray must be kept alive. He had one final idea to convince them. It was his most dangerous idea yet. “I could marry her.” In which Coriolanus was never sent to district 12 and instead got away with a slap on the wrist. However, Lucy Gray would not be granted the same fate. In order to save her, Coriolanus marries her. Clashes ensue in a tale of enemies, passion, and lovers. Updates every Saturday/Sunday!

Incomplete but is getting weekly updates! I really love this one :D

Burn by vvitchimage

Life in the wilderness is harsher than Lucy Gray Baird had imagined. Sick and almost dead, she's forced to return home to the only person capable of taking care of her.

vvitchimage is definitely one of my favourite Snowbaird authors so you will see more of her works down this list; the way she writes the toxicity is just chefs kiss 🤌 Heavy smut - complete

Safe and close at hand by framboise

In which Coriolanus Snow is handsomely rewarded for his tribute winning the Games and in turn handsomely rewards his prize, Lucy Gray, herself. He's gone solemn now in the afterglow, serious. He cares for his own, Snow, she sees that with his family, and now she is one of them. Not his family, but something he owns. His prize, his ward, his girl. Is she to be his mistress then? she thinks hazily as she slips towards sleep. Is that the future for her? To escape from the viper's den into the viper's mansion? She shivers and he drags her closer, one large hand tucked around her hip. Well, she can't escape now even if she wants to, she thinks, sinking into the softness of the plush mattress, burrowing back into the heat and warmth of her jailor.

complete

the girl and the prize by merkstave

In Lucy Gray’s defense, it was never supposed to go down like this anyway. She was just supposed to seduce him, to weasel herself into the snake pit that was Coriolanus’ bed so that he’d keep her around long enough for her to formulate an escape plan. She’d meet with Highbottom and he’d help her like he said he would after she was crowned victor and she’d be back to being a faceless girl amongst the cover of the districts. She just had to say the word and the dean of Heavensbee Academy would make her disappear. She’d be back to singing in bars in no time, back to her old life on the run. That had been nine months ago. And here she was, in her warden’s bed, naked and with his cum stuck to her inner thighs. +++ Lucy Gray is given to Coriolanus as his ward after the games. It's supposed to be a temporary arrangement, nothing more than means to an end. However, nothing is ever easy, especially at the hands of a Snow.

Sadly incomplete but the 4 chapters we did get are SO!!! Truly the delicious kind of toxicity 🤌🤌 (last updated: Jan 15, 2024)

All Of That Ultraviolence by ggs_29

He was well dressed in a suit that fit, hair combed back, still just as handsome as before, if not more so. A full pantry suited him well, helping him to fill out the spaces that were too thin on his figure, and building up the hard earned muscles of his peacekeeping stint. Today, he sits behind his desk in a fine dress shirt, a button undone on top, and his cuffs rolled up his muscular arms. Lucy remembers Barb Azure’s old tales, about a pagan creature from a time before Panem, a fallen angel; the most beautiful of them all, but so easy to succumb to the temptation of power and glory; “ You can leave us now, Heavensbee.” Coriolanus says, holding his gaze on her, and his eyes are dark, predatory. Fuck. “Of course Mr. President; Madame Snow.” Hilarius shoots her a look filled to the brim with trepidation, and suddenly, she is back there again, paralyzed with fear. A girl of six and ten whose name had just been reaped. They’d been found out.

heavy smut - complete

Peacekeeper Coryo AUs

This Little Life of Ours by voiceinthecrowd

"I'll sing for you soon," she promises, hand threading through blonde curls. “I’ll write you into all my songs." “Maybe even write a Ballad of Coriolanus Snow”, she whispers, gasping as her boy manages to pull her even closer. It isn't the immortality he's been looking for. It certainly isn't the marble presidential busts he tells her about when they both can't sleep; how their stony eyes would bore into the souls of passing Capitol children; a young, hungry boy in Academy rouge. But presidents die and statues crumble. Coryo might not know it yet, but it’s stories and songs that persist. His ancient heroes and her whispered poems. They’re all stories, and Lucy Gray is determined to give Coryo the greatest story of them all. He’ll understand, one day. She’ll make it up to him, the dreams he’s left behind for her. He hasn't lost everything in Twelve. Lucy Gray will prove it. In which Lucy Gray stays for Coriolanus, and Coriolanus stays for Lucy Gray.

foaming at the mouth over this fic. complete

i wouldn’t mind the hanging, but the laying in the grave so long by rainfrog

He’s a Peacekeeper since the beginning. And she’s still that Covey girl who falls in love.

SO GOOD; this fic is 2,4k words long and NOT ONE OF THEM IS WASTED truly so many excellent lines in there 💯💯 - complete

Deal with the Devil by vvitchimage

Lucy Gray had lived in the cabin for months after her falling out with Coriolanus Snow. When spring comes, he returns to take over Hoff's place in the Peacekeepers. The day she's found, Lucy Gray has to strike a deal with the devil.

Heavy smut - incomplete but is still being updated! (last update april 18, 2024)

persimmons and soup beans by kayladevitoo

Coriolanus Snow moved up in the Peacekeeper ranks in District 12, becoming an officer. He shares breakfast with Lucy Gray after a night shift — soup beans and a persimmon.

short and sweet - complete

Chaos and control by Anonymous

Her name was Lucy Gray Baird, and she and her group were called the Covey. Technically, they weren't from the Districts; as it turned out, they were a group of traveling musicians who got stuck in the Twelfth when inter-District travel was banned. This somehow reassured him – that she wasn't from the Districts, that he hadn't gone crazy falling for a girl from the Districts – she wasn't one of those responsible for the war. So he no longer felt guilty about his dreams, sometimes strange, sometimes blatantly indecent, in which she was always the main character. 18 years old Coriolanus Snow, an orphan, who lost his mother, his father and grandmother during the war now is a Cadet Peacekeeper in the District 12, preparing to become an officer. Here he meets the most beautiful girl in the world

This fic is not as Snowbaird centric as the rest of this list, but god is it fantastic. This Anonymous author is simply incredible 💯 - complete

Modern AUs

Free Ride by betts

“Does Lucy Gray like you back?” Tigris asked. Coriolanus hadn’t actually considered that. He’d just assumed she didn’t and never would. He’d grown up with anything he could ever want given to him instantly, but now everything he wanted was impossibly far out of reach. Lucy Gray was no exception. Or: Coriolanus is a full-time university student, restaurant server, administrative assistant, and on the weekends he cleans and presses gowns. Occasionally he sleeps. So he really doesn't have time to be giving the weird bartender a ride home every night. And he definitely doesn't have time to become obsessed with her.

having really enjoyed Betts' Anidala fic Lemon, I knew we were in for a treat when i recognized her in the Snowbaird tag AND I WAS RIGHT, such an amazing take on modern!coryo - complete

I'm yours to keep and I'm yours to lose by fkevin073

Their lips slide together, then their tongues curl and she moans, a light, heady thing, come alight with the realization that she is finally, finally home. It’s tender at first, but at the sound of her moan Coriolanus grabs her chin in between his fingers and plunders her mouth harshly. As if this is a punishment. You left me, every kiss he gives her, takes from her, breathes. You left me. And Lucy Gray— Well. For her this isn’t a punishment at all. Or: Lucy Gray and Coriolanus can't seem to let each other go.

THIS IS SO!!!!! see this is the kind of ploltline I might not love in other circumstances, but THE WRITING IS SO INCREDIBLE that it just hits - complete

when the sun goes down by astradeluna

small-town girl lucy gray baird moves from district twelve to the capitol to attend the university to study music. this is her first time leaving home and although the prospect of starting over is terrifying, she’s still excited to make the most out of the opportunity. that being said, after a shitty breakup with her shitty ex, the last thing she wants is to meet someone, but then she crosses paths with coriolanus snow, an arrogant but ambitious government major, who seems to get under her skin with ease and he brings out a part of herself that she never knew existed

incomplete and the story hadn’t gotten to much development in the relationship yet but GOD I still need to put this here bc THE WAY the dynamics were so perfectly transcribed to this modern setting were just chefs kiss. Forever hoping this fic will return from war and get an update 🙏🙏 (last updated: Dec 20, 2023)

Other

Your Selfish Ways by thpsyche

Ten years since her disappearance from District 12 Lucy Gray decides it’s time to return, finding a shelter and a silent life. All would be well if it weren’t for the mysterious encounters of a man cloaked in darkness. A deal is struck, twice a month she would give up to him in return for his silence of her existence. Only one condition: she’s to not ask or look at him. - For the snowbaird week 2024| Day 2 – Myth.

GOD THIS FUCKING FIC - IM FUCKING OBSESSED WITH IT;;; EROS AND PSYCHE INSPIRED AU MY BELOVED - I have reread many times;;; if you see a thumbs up crying cat pfp going insane in the comments that would be me;;;; I am not normal about this 🙈 - complete

doomsday is close at hand by fkevin073

But on the first train of her nineteenth year, as the snows settle on the ground and ice curls in their lungs, something new comes with the train to arrive in District 12. A man by the name of Coriolanus Snow. (But Lucy Gray doesn’t find that out until later, of course) - Or: Coriolanus Snow arrives in District 12, and finds his very own songbird, ready to break free.

incomplete but according to @fkevin073 's tumblr it is not abandoned and she has just been busy;;; truly such a good fic I love it sm (last updated feb 14, 2024)

When I'm Pure Like a Dove, When I've Learned How to Love by Realmermaid333

Lucy Gray and Coriolanus bask in sunlight by the edge of the lake, enjoying each other's presence and calming each other's fears.

Short and sweet - the kind of softness we need more of for Snowbaird 🥺🥺🥺 - Complete

Saving Each Other by flipflop_diva

Lucy Gray had already accepted that she was going to die here in the arena, that sometime in the next few days she would meet her end. But then something else happened — and now there were two of them to carry on the fight. (An AU in which Coriolanus goes to save Sejanus and doesn't escape the arena.)

complete

Silent songbird by KitKatKatherine

Coriolanus Snow thought he knew everything that had happened to him these last few months. Lucy left him, he got into the academy, and Gaul was overseeing his studies. It’s not until he wakes up in the hospital and experiences a rather concerning conversation that he questions everything he once thought to be solid, reason logic. Vowing to never once again help Gaul, and capital be damned, he turns his charms on his own people, and becomes their worst nightmare.

Now, this fic does get quite dark; the author gives trigger warning on specific chapters but if you would like to be warned before getting any investment in the fic, feel free to dm me for details ❤️ - that said, it’s a great fic, I thought the take on disability was lovely and the way it portrayed Coriolanus realizing how rotten the system is and redeeming himself was great; incomplete but worth a read (last updated: Jan 13, 2024)

This is Not a Love Song by FrostedGemstones22

Lucy Gray and Coriolanus never go to the cabin, so they never find the guns. They decide to travel together, but Lucy Gray isn't so easily fooled. Truth is; he needs her, and she needs him. Common ground has to be found somewhere. Speculation about if they traveled up to find District 13.

THIS FIC IS SO EXCELLENT and definetely the best take I have seen on a district 13 AU - incomplete but absolutely worth reading (last updated: Jan 22, 2024)

in the woods somewhere by OfPearlsAndSunsets

Sejanus. She must have figured out that Sejanus was the third person Coriolanus had killed. She wouldn’t have known the particulars, but surely she could have pieced it all together. Still, to think he’d kill her? After everything they’d been through? He looked down at the loaded gun in his hands. Maybe he should have left it in the shed. It's as if he was hunting her. He thought about the knife and how it paled in comparison to the weapon he was carrying. What are you doing, Coriolanus? Something inside of him asks, and then demands. Put it down. He does.

Complete

Monster by Lululemonee

Coriolanus Snow if given both a gift and a curse when he meets his tribute for the 10th Hunger Games. She changed his life in ways which he never could have imagined. She's a dream and a nightmare rolled into one. And she is keeping him with her for the ride. I am very bad at summaries. This was inspired but the music video for "Scars" by Hazey Eyes which stars Tom Blyth and is sooooo good.

Complete

Deep in the Meadow by vvitchimage

Lucy Gray's reunion with Coriolanus in the meadow ends with him protecting her from her jilted ex.

Heavy smut - complete

BONUS:

Two different tribute!Coryo AUs! Are they Snowbaird centered? Not at all, there’s only a few crumbs if you squint BUT they slap SO HARD I truly recommend! (both are complete)

for cassius, no one wept by marianara_sauce

"Why don't we start from the beginning?" "Where else would we start?" She grins at him, rouge cheeks almost glowing. "Stories can start in all kinds of places. They can go in any kind of order, too. Just like songs." He watches her carefully, this relentlessly bright girl no longer in her rainbow dress. His eyes glance down to the form, blank spaces taking over most of the page. Name. District. Age. Family. It's not necessarily chronological. But her dark eyes don't look away from him, even as her grin softens. "Alright," he says. He steeples his hands together, and the chains rattle. "I'm Coriolanus Snow. District 12." (Or, the world in which Snow is a tribute instead of a mentor.)

Hail Panem by Anonymous

"Hail Panem! Those marching to their death salute you!" AU where Coriolanus Snow is a tribute from District Twelve who takes part in the Hunger Games

And that is all! There are a lot of other lovely Snowbaird fics of course but I tried focusing on my absolute favourites ❤️

Do let me know if you liked the list and if you’re a fan of any of these fic feel free to come scream about it with me!

+ Once again noting that my DMs are wide open to anyone wanting to join the Snowbaird discord! It is genuinely an online space I love and I’m always happy to meet more shippers 🫶🫶

#snowbaird #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #tbosas #coryolucy #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x lucy gray #burntblueberrywaffles #ballad of songbirds and snakes #fic rec list #fanfic rec list #fanfiction #rec list #snowbaird fanfiction

[ukranianacearo]

(Doom x reader/mitsuri) 🙏

Can you do it? Please

Mitsuri!reader (wrote with feminins pronouns in mind)

Words: idk 😔

Genre: Fluff (angst at the end)

Tw: just mashle usual type of violence and mention of death, spoilers for KNY

Tag: @futuristiclanddinosaur

Synopsis: Misuri!Reader as Doom's lover

Author's note: I have only watched the first 2 or 3 episodes of KNY... So idk if this is good or bad 😔 I had to do a quick research on more of Mitsuri's character so I could write this better. Sorry for any mistakes and hope you enjoy! More under cut

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♪ | You probably knew each other from the time you got lost in the woods around his house when you both were younger.

♪ | He was surprised that someone as shy and timid as you entered the woods.

♪ | He talked to you a bit and then walked you to the main exit.

♪ | You apologized profoundly about wasting his time and that you would come to see him again with something to thank him for his favor.

♪ | He wasn't all that eager for that and probably thought that you were joking or not being serious, but he also didn't stop you.

♪ | Guy was so stunned when he heard from you again. And you brought him some homemade food (for the sake of the plot let's say you did pancakes) and a self made necklace.

♪ | You were already surprised when he didn't comment on your pink and green hair (you didn't know that he was just blind), but you were even more surprised when he accepted your gift. Although, somehow hesitant, but he accepted them nonetheless.

♪ | After that, you would just go out to those woods to hang out with him. It really didn't bother him much when you came to hang out and he was still training with his sword.

♪ | You actually were exited to see him practice and cheered him for being strong, mentioning that you also have strong physical abilities and that your wand is in your sword too.

♪ | He was intrigued and said that if you wanted to, you could train together some time. Man wanted to see how strong you were

♪ | He was definitely surprised when you could keep up with him. But it was a pleasant surprise nonetheless.

♪ | After that you guys just hanged out a lot, telling stories, training, etc.

♪ | He slowly, but surely, was getting a little big crush on you.

♪ | He loved every aspect of you; your caring and loving attitude towards your friends and family, your dedication to protect others, your fighting techniques, everything.

♪ | Your voice soothed his worries like nothing else.

♪ | Man was so grateful for you, he appreciated that you still were friends with him even after learning who his father is, how much people he had to kill, etc. He was surprised that when you learned that he was blind since birth, instead of being uncomfortable about it, you were even more amazed of his skills.

♪ | Imagine his shock when he learns that you were supposed to be wed with a man you barely knew.

♪ | He was more angry about the fact that the guy always critiqued you, the said guy seemed to have problem with everything you did and had: your hair, the fact that you train (in the guy's words, "that wasn't feminine), your strength, your personality, etc

♪ | He already was pissed enough at your parents for being shitty af, but now they not just allowed, but encouraged their own daughter getting married to a man who does nothing more but critique her? He was ready to add names on the list of people he killed.

♪ | He doesn't do it just because you said there was no need.

♪ | He might never have seen your hair, but he would stand on that it was pretty nonetheless, just like the rest of you.

♪ | He was surprised that one day, when you came to hang out as usual, you were crying. He didn't know how to console you, so he just patted your back and then rubbed circles on it with his hand.

♪ | That was enough to easy your feelings a little bit and eventually you calmed down and told him everything

♪ | You told him that the guy started critiquing you again as always, and at this point you couldn't handle it no more. You were very upset, but didn't want to do anything too dramatic, so you just took the papers that confirmed that you were engaged to him and destroyed them in his face. Then you just walked out the house.

♪ | Doom acted calm about it, but still let you express your feelings freely.

♪ | He knew it wouldn't be the best idea to let you in his house with his crazy siblings and his father, but he also couldn't leave you outside.

♪ | That was when you officially net his family. As a friend thought. Which wasn't Doom's favorite thing, but it wasn't the time to get upset about something like that. And Doom is a patient man, he can wait.

♪ | It probably was chaotic but most didn't pay a mind. Maybe Famine or Delisaster teased Doom, but mostly they didn't care. Innocent zero did say something along the lines of "Don't be carried away from your missions" or "Don't let the girl get to your head, you're just going to delude yourself and the girl". But if it didn't interfere with his plans he wouldn't give a damn. Maybe he'll use you to his advantage thought.

♪ | After some time, you were used to living there and opened up more. Doom was happy to know that you're living better than before, even though you now count as a criminal.

♪ | At some point you just left your hair have it's natural colour and started wearing clothes that you liked and not the ones your family deemed "more important".

♪ | I feel like, when Doom would realize about his feelings he wouldn't know what to do, but would be chill about it

♪ | Mostly, just because he knows that if he let's it shown you'll be in even more da ger than you already are

♪ | And also because he knows that neither Delisaster nor Famine will let him live it down.

♪ | Domina might start to see you as his older sister ngl.

♪ | I think Doom wouldn't be very touchy, but he still would like to have some physical contact. Might pat your head, or put his hand on your lower back, something like that.

♪ | Might at some confess to you, but I think that he won't. Just to keep you safer, I guess.

♪ | If he does confess and you accept him, he'll be very happy and will show it through a small smile.

♪ | Likes to play with your hair. It's so soothing to the touch and long. He likes to run his hand through it (and if he can't, he likes to twirl it or braid it).

♪ | If he confesses, it means that he is certain that no matter what happens, he won't let you die. Even if he has to give his live in exchange and even if it runs against his father's plans. He has respect for his father, but you were the first person to be there for him at all times, through everything, no matter what piece of new information about him you learned.

♪ | Now, if he doesn't confess

♪ | Oh boy

♪ | Regrets not telling you about his feelings when you die on the Eclipse Day.

♪ | You were fighting against an opponent who had an ability that contra attacked yours very good. And while you did defeat that person, you were left with serious injuries that lead to your death. Your two of three braids were cut shoulder length, one of your arms cut off and your leg injured.

♪ | He held you in his arms as you passed away. He didn't want to believe it, but he knew that you didn't have much time. You, too, knew it.

♪ | As your time alive grew shorter, you felt more easy, knowing that you'll die I his arms and not in the arms of the cold wind.

♪ | For the last time, you decided to chat with him. You made sure he promised that whatever he wanted to do next, he had to finish it in time.

♪ | Feeling brave in your last moments, you asked a question that was based off your assumptions.

You cough blood while trying the bravery and the words in you. Doom's big and warm hands held you bridal style as he was standing near the place where you fought the enemy. It felt comfortable, to know you'll pass away in this away: in the hands of the one you love the most, the one who helped you a lot and the one you wanted to see again. Suddenly, Doom felt your hand, that wasn't cut off, cup his cheek gently and weakly, as you had almost no energy already.

- "If we're going to be reborn..." - you started, coughing out a little bit more of blood. - "... Let me be your bride, okay?" - Doom felt his heart sink at your question. How could this feel so beautiful yet tragic? He didn't know, he didn't need to know. Because all he needed is a little more time with you.

- "If you let me have you, I'll find you and marry you in every one of the timelines. No matter how much time it will take me to find you, or how bloodied will be your or my hands, if you just let me be with you... I promise to put a ring around your finger." - Your heart flutters hearing his determined tone. You smile and let a loving sigh leave you mouth as you feel weaker. Doom notices that and his grip on your waist and lege tightens slightly. He doesn't want you to disappear now, and neither do you, but you're both aware that this is your last minute. Your hand let goes of Doom's cheek and slowly fall to your side as you pass away. Doom's heart sinked completely.

♪ | Don't worry, you're later revived with Innocent zero's spell after he got defeated by Mash.

♪ | As you met with Doom again, you couldn't handle the level of your happiness and just started crying while hugging Doom. Doom hugged you back.

♪ | Anyway, happy days in the prison lol <3 Idk how long his sentence is, but if you guys leave the prison after all, he'll be more than happy to spend the rest of your lives together <3

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This is my take on writing Mitsuri!Fem!reader, sorry if it isn't accurate enough 😭 anyway, I hope you enjoyed and bye bye xoxo

#anime #mashle #anime x reader #mashle x reader #Doom #doom mashle #innocent zero #manga #manga x reader #mashle magic and muscles #x reader #doom x reader #Doom x reader

[fairy-verse]

An idea came to mind for Geno and Reaper all of a sudden, I remember it was mentioned you weren't sure who will pursue the other I wanted to add something on that. It is common to see Reaper being the one to pursue Geno so what if it is the opposite? Going story wise I would suspect Reaper not being good with communicating with others since he is mostly alone, and it was mentioned that Geno stayed with the other fairies in Error's mountain halls meaning he would be better with interacting with others than Reaper. Going back to the point Reaper is pretty secluded and warry of others coming around him in fear he would hurt them, maybe try and chase them away? Idk. He could be known as the Death fairy to many others due to his suitors dying around him mysteriously, Geno hearing this wants to know more and see this "death fairy" for himself, this curiosity was brought out because of his time with the Big Folk then... well I don't know T^T That is all I got unfortunately Just some stuff I wanted to share as a fellow enjoyer of AfterDeath lol

Geno is a fairy who enjoys his moments of solitude, though he’ll never want for them too long. Seeing the way Reaper is mostly avoided, left to crawl along the cavern walls to hide away in his nest (often left dimly lit), makes Geno feel a sort of pity for him, and so he ignores what every other fairy says, and goes to inspect what this strange fairy is all about.

Reaper is… awkward, to say the least. He is older than Geno but he’s been alone for so long (his parents were quite old when they had him, so they passed by natural causes some time ago) that he’s not the best at socialising. He’s not sure of what to say when Geno suddenly shows up to say hi, and Reaper feels flustered since he thinks Geno is cute, and thus his brain fries itself in its attempt to act suave. His poor flirting attempts are… charming, in a way, and they make Geno snort and smile, despite himself.

In the end, once both of them become fully comfortable with each other’s presence and company, their roles will eventually reverse somewhat. Reaper calms down and lets himself act naturally, and unbeknownst to him, his openness about his attraction to Geno and his way of just saying what he feels makes said other winter fairy the flushed one of the two. Geno doesn’t lack flirting skills, far from it, but once he sees Reaper in a new light, as this tall, dark fairy with unnatural wings and an aura he cannot describe… Well, his chest tickles, and he might just have to act quickly to make Reaper his mate. In due time some other fairy will notice how handsome Reaper truly is, hybrid or not, and they’ll try and win his heart. No, no, Geno won’t let that happen.

Not yet mates and Geno is already feeling jealous of the “potential” that another fairy will try to take Reaper away… It makes the latter feel giddy on the inside.

Note: Fairy Reaper is a mixture of the goofy self we all know and love, but he’s also somewhat similar to what we think of when imagining the Grim Reaper. Sometimes stoic, speaking in a tone that sounds unnatural and strange, aura that makes one's spine tickle, tall, dark, and imposing; these fairies ought to put their uncertainty for hybrids aside and instead see them for how ethereal they can be. Luckily for Geno, most will not see Reaper for how dashingly handsome he can be, so he’s safe to woo him in peace, which is good because he prefers to take his time.

#aufairyverse #utmv #ask for the fairy #fairy!reaper #reaper sans #fairy!geno #geno sans #canon

[dreamingofmarauders]

𝐖𝐡𝐲?

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚

James Potter x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Previous Part Series Masterlist

Summary: In which James gets to see your other side.

Warnings: Mentions of injury/death, crying, fluff (maybe…?)

───※ ·❆· ※───

James had woken up a few hours later, finding you still asleep. His stomach grumbled and he decided to get food for himself and you, for when you would wake.

He found the food prepared by Molly and headed back in only to find you standing, gazing outside through the window. James quickly set the food down.

“What in the world are you doing up!?”

You turned around and merely stared at him before saying, “Oh crap, how did I end up in hell!? I was supposed to be in heaven! Now you're going to annoy me for eternity.”

James narrowed his eyes, “You are not dead.” He answered before his eyes softened, “Please sit back down, you’re not supposed to be up and running just yet.”

You rolled your eyes, “Fine.” You replied but James noticed how you winced with each step you took, as the effects of the wound were still very fresh. You let out a small cry of pain as you dropped back onto the bed as the healing skin stretched painfully.

James immediately began to fuss over you, “Shit, are you alright? Where does it hurt? Should I try to get someone? Or should-“

“Potter, relax.” You interrupted him. “I’m fine.”

He nodded before handing you a plate full of assorted foods.

“Molly threatened me that you better have eaten this before she comes back in the morning to check on you, or she'll have my head.”

A small smile crawled onto your lips, “That would have been an amusing sight, but remind me to thank Molly.”

James pouted but bit back the remark sitting upon his tongue. Instead he voiced the one thought that was haunting him.

“Why?”

You paused, raising an eyebrow in confusion, “Pardon?”

“Why? Why did you take my place? Why did you save me from the spell and took the hit yourself?”

You sighed, setting your plate to the side.

“It was better me than you.” You answered, staring off into the distance as your mind traveled elsewhere. “You have family and friends that would be devastated if anything happened to you. And me,” You let out a cold laugh, “My family would celebrate my death, plus I guess so I would deserve it.” You voice cracked near the end.

“No you don’t.” James immediately said, kneeling in front of you. “Why would you think that?”

Your eyes glossed over, “I had vowed to protect someone I considered a younger brother, a-and I left him there in that cruel world.”

“Who?” James questioned.

“Regulus.”

“Regulus?” James asked in confusion, “As in Sirius’ younger brother, Regulus?”

You nodded in confirmation. “I took him under my wing at Hogwarts and although he had a hard way of expressing it, I know he loved me a lot too. He was broken after Sirius ran away from home, and I know it must have hurt even more when I decided to escape that dark world. I tried to take him with me, begged him, but unfortunately a small part of him was influenced by his parents. Plus, he was too scared to go against his parents.” You explained, eyes welling up. “I left him there when I shouldn’t have, and perhaps all of this,” You gestured towards your injured body, “Is just the consequences of my actions.”

James was reeling in with shock. Sure he had seen you and Regulus a few times together at Hogwarts, but he never realized you were capable of loving someone this deeply and loyally, and that you both shared such a huge bond. James had always been at the receiving end of hate. You would laugh at him, mock him, poke fun at him, tease him, give him glares, sneers and what not, but apparently that was just for him, and Sirius too.

He had never gotten the chance to witness this soft, loving and caring side to you.

It suddenly came crashing down hard on James. Remus and Lily were right about you. James truly had been wrong about you this entire time.

Your sniffles brought him back and he cupped your face, wiping the tears away with his thumb.

“Y/n, listen, you are not at fault here. I’ll tell you what I told Sirius when he was in a similar state. You had given Regulus the option, the opportunity to start a fresh life. It was his choice to stay behind, no matter how hard you tried. You can’t blame yourself, because you are not at fault at all.” James said, reassuringly. It seemed to somewhat work but you began to hiccup instead and James mentally slapped himself.

“I just wish he had listened and come along. It scares me for what he has to do out there, and I have no idea if he’s safe or not.” You said, shaking your head slightly. “I hate the world, why can’t everyone just be kind and happy? Causing wars and violence does nothing but destroy lives.” You rambled, clearly upset about everything.

James nodded but began to panic when more tears welled up in your eyes, "Please, please, stop crying. You literally have no energy and this is not good for you, please, please stop!" He rambled.

You slowly began to calm down, feeling even more tired and exhausted, with your head throbbing even more. Afterwards, James urged you to eat some more before you were to sleep again. You shot him a tired yet amused smile.

"What?" He asked, feeling self conscious all of a sudden.

"You hate me, remember?"

James suddenly flushed a deep red, mumbling something incoherent.

"What was that?" You asked teasingly.

"I don't hate you."

You arched an eyebrow, "Really? Well you had an odd way of showing it."

He went even more red, if that was possible. "I just- I'm sorry, ok!?"

You smiled gently, "Just because of what happened earlier, doesn't mean you're obligated or owe me something, you know?"

James stuttered, "Why did you behave cold towards me at Hogwarts?" He asked out of the blue, making you narrow your eyes at him.

"Because you made me a target in one of your pranks against Slytherin."

James frowned. Sure he had tried to target you a few times throughout Hogwarts but you had always managed to evade them. Somehow.

"Yeah, obviously you don't remember." You said, your tone tinged with bitterness.

It was your fourth year at Hogwarts, nearing the end as summer break approached. You were already running late for your next class and as you rounded a corner, a huge explosion happened, throwing you against the wall. You cursed and made a move to get to your class but found you were stuck to the wall. You used all your strength but ended up only hitting your head hard on the wall.

"Shit!"

You yelped as something wet and gooey poured onto your head, covering you from head to toe with it.

"Ew, what is this?"

However, before you could get an answer for that, another explosion happened and a huge swamp appeared, going up to your chest. To top it all off, fireworks erupted in the corridor, which finally attracted a crowd as students of nearby classes rushed out.

Two boys led the crowd, their faces looking eager. Although their smiles slightly diminished the moment their eyes landed on you.

"Aw, damn, this is just one snake! The trap was for a bunch of snakes, not just one pathetic Slytherin!" Sirius exclaimed, pointing a finger accusingly in your direction.

James snorted, "But still! Look at her! Such a loser!" The whole crowd laughed. Tears burned your eyes as the laughter echoed off the walls, people pointing and snickering at you. You looked down, embarrassment flooding your whole being. You didn't realize when Professor McGonagall pushed her way through the crowd, nor were you aware of when the swamp vanished or when you were free from the wall. However, tears began to cascade down your face as a sob made its way out of your mouth, when your face broke into hives.

You heard the corridor erupt into shrieks of laughs, all related to your current state. You managed a look up and saw the two boys behind this fiasco, practically rolling around on the ground as they chuckled. You felt hatred for them both. How could they be so cruel? You spun on your heel as the crowd parted for you as you ran and ran until you entered the Slytherin common room. You could see Madam Pomfrey for the reaction to your face after, you just wanted to be alone.

Regulus, who had returned from his class some seconds before you, looked up from his place by the couch, his eyes going wide noticing your state. He stood up and grabbed you by the arm to stop you.

"What happened?" He asked in concern.

"Those stupid boys! I hate them! I hate Potter and Black, they're just plain cruel!"

Regulus' face dawned with realization as a fire burned in his eyes. How dare they hurt you like that?

You shrugged off his hold and ran upstairs to your dormitory, to let out all the pent up emotions. Meanwhile, Regulus' face hardened as he watched you go. He walked out of the common room with determination. No way was someone going to hurt his sister and get away with it.

"And then Regulus hexed us, and kept doing so until Minnie stepped in." James said, completing the story for you instead as the memory came rushing back to him.

"Yeah. The humiliation was horrible and over the summer, I decided to hold a grudge against you two, so began the good ol' rivalry. Later on, as you boys began to change your ways, I felt myself softened but the constant back and forth poking sort of just became our thing." You finished saying, shrugging your shoulders.

"And Remus?"

"What about him?"

"How come you were on good terms with him?"

"Because he was not in on that prank because it was orchestrated by you and your idiotic twin. He felt bad and came to visit me in the Hospital Wing the following day and I appreciated that he was apologizing on behalf of his friends. We became close after that. Oh also," You said, a smirk making its way onto your face, "I only managed to avoid all your pranks meant for me because Remus would tell me beforehand."

A scowl crossed James' face, "That traitor!" However, his expression softened when he heard a chuckle leave your lips.

"Leave poor Remus alone. You lot gave him loads of trouble at school as it was, no need for more."

James grinned mischievously at that before his expression faded into a guilty one.

"I am truly sorry for everything." He sincerely apologized.

You shot him a grateful smile, "Thank you."

James rubbed the back of his neck nervously before extending a hand out. "You want to start over?" He offered.

You looked at him and then his hand. This was an opportunity for the pair of you to forget old enmity and begin afresh. You smiled, clasping his hand.

"Hi, I'm Y/n L/n."

James' shoulders slumped with relief.

He flashed her a bright smile. "Hello, I'm James Potter."

You giggled, "Pleasure to meet you stranger."

"Same here, stranger." He answered, earning another giggle from you, making his heart warm up.

You two had a long way to go but this new opportunity for a better start was something you both would later on be very thankful for.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

A/N: Hey everyone! I hope you liked this chapter and see you in the next one! Take care! <33

Wizard Buddies (Taglist): @quack-quack-snacks @jamespottergf @themarauderswife7 @amethyistheart

#harry potter #marauders #marauders era #wizarding world #fanfiction #remus lupin #james potter #magic #james fleamont potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter fanfiction #james x reader #read on tumblr #read on wattpad #its me serina #dreamingofmarauders #the first wizarding war #series #lily evans #molly weasley #james potter fluff #regulus black #i hope you all are doing well #i hope you like it #hogwarts #james potter imagine #part three #I hate you #james potter x slytherin reader

[braveclementine]

October 22: Sex Pollen (Loki Laufeyson)❤️

Warnings: could be seen as non-con, royalty kink, induced sex

Copyright: I do not own Loki (please kidnap me Loki) or any other Marvel/MCU characters. I also do not condone any copying of this.

"What exactly is it?" You asked Bruce as he showed you a new, interesting specimen that had been found in space and brought back to Earth.

It was a beautiful flower of sorts, bright pink with white teardrops on the petals. The stem was green and a little purple where the stem curled up to the petals.

"I'm not sure yet." Bruce said, moving away from the table to go and sit behind his computer. "I do know that it is from the planet Kuth." He said, showing you a picture of an Earth-like planet with a turquoise sky and a field of these flowers that had signs around them, as though warding people to be careful of the flower patch. "Could be dangerous, might not be. Perhaps Loki or Thor or one of the Guardians will know. Loki's coming. . . when?"

"This Saturday." You said happily, missing your best friend and crush- though no one actually knew about the latter part.

"Excited to see him again?" Bruce asked skeptically.

"I know, I know, he's a terrible Midgardian killing God, but we're friends and that's behind him now." You said. "Plus, he was being slightly controlled by Ronan and Thanos, just like Bucky was controlled by HYDRA and you all like Bucky."

"Fair." Bruce relented. "But not everyone sees it like that either."

"And some people still think Bucky ought to be given the Death Penalty." You pointed out.

"Fair again." Bruce admitted. "Anyways, make sure that you keep away from this until I can figure out what it is. If its' poisonous, we wouldn't want a disease to break out over the city."

"Will do boss." You said cheekily and then made your way out of the room.

You couldn't wait to show Loki!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"It's a flower?" Loki asked skeptically.

The two of you were standing on the balcony, overlooking the pool. The other Avengers were stripped down to swim trunks and two-piece bathing suits, enjoying the nice day. Steve and Fury were barbequing on the grill with some help from Sam, while the girls were sunbathing on the law chairs.

Tony, Stephen, and Bruce were deep in conversation about something, a handful of beers on the table in front of them.

Thor was sitting in the pool, Parker and some of his friends from school in there too.

Bucky meanwhile was playing cornhole with Clint, Rhodey, and T'Challa.

"A beautiful flower." You clarified. You and Loki were pretty much alone on the balcony. Loki was wearing his normal Asgardian wear as he hadn't felt like wearing anything from Midgard, and you were wearing denim shorts and a shirt that you had tied off above the belly button.

"It's still a flower." Loki deadpanned, placing his hands on the railing, "What is this gathering they are doing?"

"It's called a pool party Lokes." You sighed, "C'mon, I want to show it to you."

Loki sighed, looking over at you. "Don't you want to join in on this pool party instead?"

You felt frustrated. You knew your crush was one-sided (as they always were), but you thought that Loki at least liked you as a friend. Or at least, you seemed to be the only one he tolerated. But friends shared things with each other all the time, right?

"No, I want to show you the flower which I'm not really supposed to show you because Bruce doesn't know what it is yet." You sighed, pushing away from the banister, "But it's okay. I realize guys don't really like those sorts of things. It's kind've hot, I'm gonna go inside."

Loki started for a moment, staring after you. He hoped he hadn't offended you, but flowers- well you even seemed to know they weren't something he'd want to see. But shit, it wasn't about him, it was about you.

"Wait!" He called, hurrying to catch the door, coming back into the building.

You were half tempted not to stop, but you did anyways, turning to look at him.

"I do want to see the flower, but I just didn't know if there was something else you'd rather do. The party looked like something you would've enjoyed." Loki explained.

Why the hell did he have to look so sexy? You wished you could see him in his pool garb. Black or green or gold swim trunks. No shirt. You imagined that he had a fit body underneath the layers of Asgardian leather. You could imagine black aviator shades on his face, his hair possibly pulled back into a ponytail.

You quickly shook your head to clear your thoughts and said, "Well, I knew you wouldn't enjoy the party. You don't really like them. Anyways, the flower is this way."

Immediately, he was caught off guard of your awareness for his likes and dislikes. Sure, he knew all of yours, perhaps even knowing more about you, than you did. But the fact that you were just as aware as him was strange.

Different.

Almost likable.

You led him down the hallway, taking the elevator to the bottom floor. You slipped into Bruce's lab, the door shutting behind the two of you. You led him over to the case display where he'd set up the flower under examination.

"It is quite unique." Loki admitted after looking at the flower for a moment. In reality, he was looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You were a strange mortal, no doubt, perhaps as unique as this flower in the right place. After all, this flower didn't stick out in its home, but it did on Earth. And he supposed each human was unique in their own way. You were just more special.

"I hope its not harmful." You said wistfully. "I want to know what it smells like."

Loki suddenly plucked the glass case off of the flower and you stared at him in shock, "What if it's poisonous! Loki put it back!"

"Calm down Y/N. A measly flower cannot kill me." Loki smiled, before lowering his nose down to smell the flower. After inhaling the scent, he pulled back. "Perhaps it is just me, but there seems to be a very strange smell coming from the flower. It's almost like. . . honey and almonds but that can't quite be right, can it?"

You bent down to smell the flower next. After all, it didn't seem to have affected Loki so it was probably safe.

Well that was strange because you didn't smell any of the things that Loki had smelt. Instead, you seemed to have smelt expensive leather, expensive cologne, and vanilla. Actually. . . it smelt a lot like Loki.

You laughed, "Kind've reminds me of Amortentia."

"What in the world is that?" Loki asked.

"It was a love potion in Harry Potter. Smells like the person that you are in love with so each person thinks the flower smells like something else." You explained.

Loki's cheeks flushed pink. "Ah I-"

But whatever he was going to say didn't matter, as two small pink hearts actually popped out of the flower. They were extremely small, small enough to fit on your pinky fingernail. They weren't filled in, but seemed rather a stencil. They floated upwards and you felt one land on the tip of your nose and looked to Loki in time to see the other hit him on the nose and then sink in.

"Are we dead?" You asked with fright.

Once again, he didn't get to answer because your lips were pressed together, your arms around each others necks. The kiss was messy and erotic, a clashing of lips, tongue, and teeth. It was like you were trying to devour each other, and neither of you were able to get any closer.

"This needs to come off." Loki growled, ripping the shirt from your body and you had no room to protest as you were feverishly stripping him of his Asgardian uniform, cursing the amount of layers he was wearing.

Loki attached his lips to your neck as you kicked off your own skirt, leaving you bare in front of him. Most of his clothes were off, though he wouldn't let you go to take his pants off. Those he shucked off himself.

It was like a very chaotic dream as the two of you seemed to almost wrestle with each other, over to one of the desks in the middle of the room. Loki swept everything off of the desk, making glass shatter, pens scatter, and papers drift out across the room.

Loki seemed to suddenly slam you down on the table, before plunging into you in a feral way. Your back arched off the table at the sudden intrusion, but you found that it had been a very easy entrance, as there was almost no pain.

"Fuck." You moaned, "Loki, faster."

"It's your highness to you." Loki growled again.

"Your highness!" You nearly screamed.

Everything seemed heightened, yet fuzzy. Like you couldn't even believe that your orgasm was already fast approaching and he'd barely been inside of your for a minute. Nor was he overstimulating you in any way that would make an orgasm approach so fast.

Your fingers dug into his forearms, spurring him on to move even faster inside of you, hips snapping against yours. You might've sworn that his balls were hitting you so hard in the ass that you'd have bruises tomorrow. His hands were definitely going to leave bruises all over your body from how tightly he was holding.

It was fuzzy though, like your brain wasn't really working. A small part in the back of your mind was telling you that this was bad, that this was wrong. It was going to ruin your friendship with Loki after all. How were the two of you going to recover after this? You were going to lose one of your best friends because of a stupid flower!

But that part was clear and the rest was fuzzy and you couldn't really focus on it with so much chaos going on around you. You were mostly feeling euphoric, barely even thinking about anything at all as your orgasm hit you like the impact of the bottom of a cliff.

You weren't sure how long you went or how many rounds or even how many orgasms. You know that you went from your back on the desk, to riding him on the floor, to being fucked into a chair, and then back to the floor.

It was like a dream and then the two of you seemed to slow down, things seemed to become clearer. The lights seemed less harsh and you realized that though the room was freezing cold, you were both covered in sweat.

You collapsed against Loki's chest and his arms drew you into him.

"Shit." He muttered. "I wasn't expecting that."

You were silent, heart pounding. You had had a crush on him for the longest time. You had wanted this for the longest time- but not like this. It was supposed to be mutual. It was supposed to be remarkable, rememberable.

You sat up slowly, searching for your clothes when Steve, Bruce, and Tony came walking in. Steve backpedaled so quickly upon seeing the two of you buck naked that he slammed his head into the doorframe, denting it rather effectively.

Bruce turned a nice shade of pink, covering his face with his hand.

Tony meanwhile, turned red and pointed to the stuff on the floor. "What did you do?!"

"I think that's very obvious Tony." Steve muttered, leaning his forehead on the wall so he didn't have to look at the two of you.

Loki seemed unconcerned, snapping his fingers so that clothes appeared on him again. Or maybe it was just an illusion, but either way you wished he could've done it for you.

You wrapped one of the office blankets around you and then you said, "Well, Bruce, we found out what your flower does."

#Braveclementineworks #Kinktober 2022 #Loki Laufeyson #Lokixreader #Loki Laufeyson x reader #Loki #Sex Pollen #non-con considered #pet names #Royalty kink #King Kink #smut #18+ readers only #kinktober prompt

[princessofmerchants]

"Nesta began."

Nesta Week 2024 ~ Day 2: Metamorphosis ~ @nestaarcheronweek

{a short meta about ACOSF Ch. 50 meant to capture a little of my thinking about the most significant metamorphosis Nesta undergoes in her story}

My experience of reading ACOSF Ch. 50 is one of metamorphosis: both as a reader because I am transformed every time I read it, and in seeing Nesta undergo the most essential, vital transformation of her life so far, during the span of this scene.

It isn't caused by magic, or trauma, or things happening to her in the plot.

Instead, it's the transformation from someone who does not believe themselves to be worthy of love, into someone with the bravery to try to believe they are.

Cassian drew the Illyrian blade from down his back. It gleamed with moonlight as he extended it to her hilt-first. “Take it.” Blinking, eyes still puffy with tears, she did. The blade dipped as she wrapped her hands around it, as if she didn’t expect its weight after so long with the wooden practice swords. Cassian stepped back. Then said, “Show me the eight-pointed star.” She studied the blade, then swallowed. Her features were open, fearful but so trusting that he nearly went to his knees. He nodded toward the blade. “Show me, Nesta.” Whatever she sought in his face, she found it. She widened her stance, bracing her feet on the stones. Cassian held his breath as she took up the first position. Nesta lifted the sword and executed a perfect arcing slash. Her weight shifted to her legs just as she flipped the blade, leading with the hilt, and brought up her arm against an invisible blow. Another shift and the sword swept down, a brutal slash that would have sliced an opponent in half. Each slice was perfect. Like that eight-pointed star was stamped on her very heart. The sword was an extension of her arm, a part of her as much as her hair or breath. Every movement bloomed with purpose and precision. In the moonlight, before the silvered lake, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Nesta finished the eighth maneuver, and returned the sword to center. The light in her eyes shone brighter than the moon overhead. Such light, and clarity, that he could only whisper, “Again.” With a soft smile that Cassian had never seen before, standing on the moon-washed shores of the lake, Nesta began.

This beautiful, vulnerable, powerful moment at the end of ACOSF Ch. 50 comes after the harrowing experience of Nesta finally speaking aloud to her trusted person what she feels about herself.

And of course—I say this all the time—SJM is a romance writer, which means Nesta's trusted person, Cassian, is who she finally cracks herself wide open with. I believe Nesta would not have been capable of finally voicing these things if not for the trust and care that had grown between her and Cassian, as both friends and lovers, leading up to this scene.

And his response to what she says about herself helps her to see light and hope again by persistently reframing her own jagged (mis)understanding of herself and her capability as instead an experience that can be honored as difficult, then walked through to a better, more light-filled existence on the other side:

"What you feel, this guilt and pain and self-loathing—you will get through it. But only if you are willing to fight. Only if you are willing to face it, and embrace it, and walk through it, to emerge on the other side of it. And maybe you will still feel that tinge of pain, but there is another side. A better side.” She pulled back from his chest then. Found his gaze lined with silver. “I don’t know how to get there. I don’t think I’m capable of it.” His eyes glimmered with pain for her. “You are. I’ve seen it—I’ve seen what you can do when you are willing to fight for the people you love. Why not apply that same bravery and loyalty to yourself?"

And:

“But I still don’t know how to fix myself.” “There’s nothing broken to be fixed,” he said fiercely. “You are helping yourself. Healing the parts of you that hurt too much—and perhaps hurt others, too.”

(I've said this about other scenes in ACOSF too, but I believe in my bones, my heart, and my soul, that this is written by someone (SJM) who has said these very same things to her own person (Josh). I have in fact said these things to my person - "I don't think I'm capable of it" was torn right from my own mouth and life. This is spot on for accuracy about what this kind of breaking open is like for someone who does not believe they are worthy of love where the person who loves them then debunks that falsehood in just the ways Cassian does here. I've said it before and I'll say it again; It's so powerful to see my lived experience on the page like this, y'all.)

There is security on the shores of the lake for Nesta, which is just the set of delicate circumstances needed to allow what we see at the very end of the chapter to blossom:

With a soft smile that Cassian had never seen before, standing on the moon-washed shores of the lake, Nesta began.

The last stretch of this chapter is in Cassian's pov. I love that it is, because the love he feels for her, the depth it expands to in response to seeing her trust, and try, and become who she is meant to be—not a magical queen, but a person who knows they are loved and is beginning to also know they deserve to be—saturates everything about this moment and scene beside the lake.

#nestaweek2024 #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian #hike through the sleeping mountains #acosf #a court of silver flames #acosf reread post hofas #metamorphosis #getting personal #sarah j maas #pro nesta #pro cassian #pro nessian

[rawstfish]

A High Bye

This is what I'm celebrating 4/20 with :)

Description: Gaz was going to say one last Goodbye to Price before he went on his leave. However, other events take place. This is an 18+ fic ONLY

Word count: 3296

Warnings: Sex while high/Slight edging/Price having a captain kink

It was supposed to be a simple goodbye. He was supposed to stop by and leave fairly quickly. But nothing is ever simple with Price, is it?

He had walked in on Price smoking. However, his lips didn't hold his classic maduro cigar. No, this time it was a blunt. Light smoke wrapped itself around Price and drifted off into his barracks. The pungent smell of weed was about the only thing Gaz could smell.

The only light was a lamp by Price's bed. It provided enough light for them both to see each other, though with heavy shadows.

“Um…I was just saying goodbye captain.” Gaz didn't know why he sounded so nervous. He knows Price smokes. He's even smoked a little with him too. Maybe it was due to his rising temperature. The room was stuffy, it was always stuffy. Or maybe it was because Gaz was trying really hard not to get a boner. 

He had taken in Price's appearance. His eyes were slightly red but with a heavy droop. The cannabis relaxing him into a dreary state, a rare sight to see. His body was slightly wet, little beads of sweat forming around his body. This caused his already somewhat tight fitting shirt to cling onto him even more. Gaz thought Price couldn't look hotter if he tried. There was just something about Price being so relaxed that got Gaz going. It was such a rare sight, it was like a sweet treat you only get to indulge in once a blue moon. So he was really trying to stop his blood rushing south.

Price sat up, sitting on the edge of his bed. 

“You're leaving already? Alright, have a good time Garrick.” He gave Gaz's arm a pat before rubbing it down as he said this. This didn't help Gaz's…situation. The rubbing only increased his horniness. It provided just the right amount of sensation for him. He could feel Price’s heat even through his thick, puffy jacket. Gaz was honestly flushed with embarrassment from this.

“Will do Captain.” Is what he responded with. That was supposed to be his last words to Price, but he couldn't leave. He told his legs to move but they stayed put. 

Instead he reached for Price’s blunt, gripping it softly with two fingers. 

“Actually, may I captain? I wouldn't mind a little session before I left.” Price chuckled at this, but opened his mouth so Gaz could take the blunt. 

Gaz brought the spit dampen side to his mouth, inhaling the smoking. He moved his head to the side, not wanting to exhale in Price's face. He should have given the blunt back to Price; However, he sat down beside him.

___________________________

They stared at each other, both their eyes roaming the other one's body. Gaz had taken his puffy jacket and shoes off, the room getting too hot to wear them. His shirt hung loosely on him while his pants hugged his thighs so perfectly. He felt like he could feel all of Price's body heat on him, his high somehow heightening his sense of touch. They sat so closely together, the slightest movement and their lips would touch. Not that was an issue in either of their minds.

Gaz looked back up at Price's eyes. Even while high Gaz could tell he was looking at his lips. Price's high state gave him a slight hesitation. Not on purpose though of course, as Price isn't one to hesitate. Gaz could tell Price thought they already were kissing. With how close they were, it wasn't a surprise he would think this in his high state. 

“Captain.” Gaz whispered, still looking into Price's blue eyes. Price lifted his eyes up at this, the realization that he only imagined kissing Gaz setting in. 

“Yeah?” He replied. Although no reply was given as they both leaned into each other, their lips finally meeting each other. It was uncoordinated and messy, their saliva mixing together in an open mouth kiss. Price put his hands on Gaz's shoulders, pushing him down gently onto the bed. 

Breaking the kiss, Price moved himself in between Gaz's legs. He placed Gaz's legs on each side of him, holding onto them. Their bulges were now touching, giving them both a satisfying stimulation. Price leaned down, capturing Gaz's lips in another kiss. Gaz wrapped his arms around Price's shoulders, seemingly entrapping him. This one was shorter as Price broke the sound of heavy breathing with his voice. 

“I may be high Garrick, but I saw how you were looking at me.” Price smiled slightly as he said this, letting Gaz know he wasn't sneaky in his glances. Well glances were putting it nicely.

“What, I can't take a peek?” Gaz questioned. He moved his hands down Price's arms, stopping at his forearms.

“You were more than peeking Kyle.” Price chuckled out. Gaz blushed slightly at this, feeling a small sense of embarrassment. But this feeling faded fast as Price leaned back down, taking his lips in another kiss. 

He held Gaz close to him, pressing hard against his lips. It was like he was trying to take Gaz's breath away but also trying to morph into him. His hands massaged Gaz’s legs, kneading them in such a way that sent sparks to Gaz’s cock. 

His tongue entered Gaz's mouth, twisting around Gaz's tongue slightly fighting for dominance. Not that it was even a competition, as Gaz usually lets Price take the lead. Price broke the kiss but still keeping his tongue on Gaz's, they both panted into each other's mouth. Drool was covering Gaz's chin and slightly dripping down to his neck.

Price pushed their lips together again, Gaz immediately accepting it. It was wet and messy but it was perfect. Their teeth slightly hit one another but not hard enough to be painful. Putting his tongue back in his mouth, Price gave Gaz quick kisses as he moved down to his neck. His beard tickled Gaz's neck slightly. 

His hands moved from massaging Gaz's legs to under his shirt. He grabbed his waist as he gave butterfly kisses around his neck. He gave his waist a squeeze as he started moving his hips, needing more sensation on his dick. Gaz arched into Price's embrace, his cock straining against his jeans. He panted and slightly moaned into the air as he started moving his hips against Price too. 

Price moved his head from Gaz's neck, sitting up to look at Gaz's face. He could see the pure bliss on his face. The pure pleasure his face was scrunched in. If he tried hard enough, he could cum just from that sight. A groan escaped his mouth, mixing in with his heavy breathing. 

Price moved his hands further up Gaz's body, and in turn making his shirt ride up. His hand stopped at Gaz's nipples, pressing his thumbs against them. Gaz's hips stuttered a bit at the added stimulation. He choked on his spit a little bit, closing his eyes from pleasure. Price rubbed circles on his nipples, each full rotation going straight to Gaz's cock. His hands that were planted beside him started gripping the sheets. 

Maybe it was due to the weed, but it felt like electricity was being shocked through his body. He's never felt this sensitive before. It was driving him crazy. He lifted his shaky hand and pushed gently on Price. Price looked into Gaz's eyes but didn't stop his motions. He was too caught up in how good this all feels. 

“Captain…” Gaz said with bated breath.

“Fuck… Yes Kyle?” That “captain” went straight to Price's dick, he could feel the slight throb the title caused. He slowed his movements but didn't come to a full stop. His eyes were staring at Gaz's waiting for what he had to say. 

“It's hot… I need my pants off.” Gaz replied after taking a minute to catch his breath. It was hard due to Price's slow movements affecting Gaz much more.

Price took his hands out of Gaz's shirt, moving down to fumble with his belt. He would have had them off in a minute if he was sober, but he struggled a bit while high. It didn't help that he was feeling a bit impatient too. Gaz giggled at this and moved to help him. He wasn't much help as they were both fumbling with the stupid strap of leather, their hands constantly hitting each other. Giggling at their struggle, they finally got the belt off. Price pulled Gaz’s jeans off, taking his underwear with them. His cock hit his stomach lightly. The warm air met with his warm skin, but somehow still cooling him due to the denim jeans being gone.

Gaz sighed in relief, closing his eyes slightly and moving around to get comfortable. He pushed more up against Price, his lap fully in Price's. Price raised his arms, moving to take his shirt off. His chest and stomach was practically dripping with sweat. He was flushed red all over. His chest hair was wet, sticking to his plush skin. His happy trail was the same way, seemingly like an exact arrow pointing to his hard cock. Gaz stared, trying to burn this image in his hazy mind.

Price tossed their clothes to the floor, not caring about the mess. He reached for his end table, pulling open the top dresser. He dug around, squinting his eyes to try to focus them. He pulled a bottle of clear lube out. He opened the cap and squirted some of the liquid onto his fingers.

He put some on Gaz's dick, mixing it with his pre cum. Gaz hissed through his teeth, not prepared to finally get some skin to skin contact on his dick. Shortly after he let out soft moans with his panting. Price pumped Gaz's cock lightly, not fully wrapping his hand around it. He moved one of his fingers to Gaz's asshole. He rubbed around the ring of muscle, trying to somewhat lubricate it. He pushed his finger in, still jerking Gaz's dick to help ease the slight burn. 

Gaz let out a sigh mixed with a moan, Price’s thick finger reaching all the right places. Price pushed his finger in as far as it would go, stopping to move it around in circles. Gaz jerked his hips and his breathing stuttered. The pleasure already feeling too much to his high body. 

Price stopped his movements to pull his finger out. He pulled his finger out until it was slightly prodding Gaz's entrance. He moved his second finger down and moved to push both his fingers inside Gaz. He started applying more pressure to Gaz's dick as well, still keeping his comfort in mind. Gaz let out tiny puffs of breath as he pushed his hips against Price. His hips couldn't decide whether to push up into his hand or down into his fingers. 

Price circled his fingers in Gaz's ass, moving them in and out at a steady pace. He moved his hand on Gaz's dick at a faster pace, squeezing just the right amount to have Gaz squirming. Usually Gaz tries to somewhat suppress his moans (not wanting to be too loud), but now he isn't restraining them. His high making him lose that part of his subconscious. Even while high, Price was a little surprised. He's heard Gaz like this before but it's still always a surprise treat to him. 

Price switched his circling in favor of a scissoring motion. Stretching both his fingers and Gaz's ass as far as they would go. He moved his fingers in and out while doing this, going at a faster pace now. Price moved his hand on Gaz's cock faster too, applying the perfect amount of pressure for him.

“I…I'm gonna cum…” Gaz warned, moving his hips up and down into Price. Gaz was actually still a bit away from orgasming, but the weed in his system made it feel closer. Price bottomed his fingers out in Gaz and curled them up, directly hitting his prostate. Gaz’s body spazzed at this, his eyes rolling back. He didn't cum from the added simulation, but he felt like he had.

Price let go of Gaz's cock and pulled his fingers from him. Gaz whined at this, he was so close and Price just denied him his orgasm. He rolled his hips up trying to find something to help him release. He put his right hand over his eyes, feeling so tired and done. He let out little huffs of breaths, trying to catch his breathing. His cock-head an angry red color almost. It was leaking profusely, mixing with the lube Price used.

Price sat up on his knees, moving his sweats down to finally release his cock. How he kept them on so long, he doesn't know. He sighed as the layers of fabric pressing down on him were finally gone. His cock springed forward, leaking pre from its flushed tip. He picked the lubricant back up and poured it on his dick. He might have poured a bit too much as when he went to spread it, it squished to the back of his hand. He jerked his dick, getting lost in the feeling of his hand and the messy liquid. 

Gaz took in the sight. He somehow felt hornier taking in the sight. Price was groaning and letting curses slip from his mouth, both heating up Gaz's ears. He could feel Price staring at his messy body. It was wet from sweat and lube. His cock looked incredible from Gaz's point of view. It was so perfectly girthy and absolutely messy. 

Gaz pushed his hips out and let out a breathy, “Captain…” This was all it took to snap Price out of his trance. He placed his hand beside Gaz, still jerking his cock but at a slower pace. He stumbled over his sweatpants that were around his knees, trying to move to put his cock into Gaz. 

Slowly, he pushed into Gaz. Price was trying to take his time but it was proving to be difficult. He wanted to push his entire length in quickly. He should have stretched Gaz some more, but he wasn't thinking properly with his fuzzy mind. Luckily the extra amount of lubricant helped ease Price in a little bit more. Gaz was slowly pushing his hips towards Price, trying to help and speed things up. 

Price bottomed out inside Gaz, letting out a sigh of relief. Gaz squirmed and tried to lay still, but he wanted to fuck himself on Price cock. He didn't want to wait for his already denied orgasm. 

Price leaned down and captured Gaz's lips in a kiss once more. This one was slower and somewhat more coordinated. Their breathing and lips smacking together filled Price's room. It almost distracted Gaz from how Price's hand was going back to his dick. He started with the same light strokes as before, making Gaz pant into Price's mouth. Price was kissing Gaz, getting a taste of his tongue once again. 

Gaz moved his hips, signaling that he was ready for Price to move. Price pulled away from Gaz's lips, placing his other hand on Gaz's side. He started with slow and shallow thrusts, easing Gaz into the feeling. It was hard for Gaz to go with Price's set pace as he hit his prostate almost every time. 

“Faster…” Gaz panted out. He needed Price to go faster, the slow pace was killing him.

Price picked up his speed while still hitting deep inside Gaz. He moved the hand that was on Gaz's cock faster too. He applied more pressure, messily stroking his dick. It was perfect for Gaz. He let out moans and mumbled curses, squeezing his legs around Price's sides. He put his right hand over his eyes as his left reached for Price's back.

Price pulled Gaz somehow more into him, gripping onto his thigh. He used this as leverage to push himself harder into Gaz. Both their hips met each other, making Price's cock fill Gaz all the way up. He was hitting Gaz's prostate in all the best way too. Gaz felt like he was losing his mind in pleasure. Everything was perfect and the weed only intensified the experience.

The sound of skin hitting skin filled both their ears. It had a wet effect due to their sweat and lube mixing together. Gaz's moaning and heavy breath also filled Price's ears. He wishes he could hear them on repeat 24/7. All this caused Price to speed up and thrust even harder into Gaz. He moved his hand to Gaz's tip and rubbed his hand around it. He was acting on pure instincts now. Gaz raked his nails on Price's back, leaving bright red marks. Price let out a groan and his hips stuttered, the slight pain adding to his pleasure.

Gaz was approaching his orgasm fast. He felt like everything around him was helping him achieve it. 

“G-gonna cum.” He managed to squeak out through his moans. Price changed the angle of his hips, trying to hit Gaz's prostate every time now in the perfect way. He kept his pace as Gaz moved his hips more erratically. It looked like Gaz was struggling between deciding to thrust his hips towards or away from Price. The intense pleasure he was feeling was successfully turning his brain into muss. 

With a couple more deep strokes and rubbing, Gaz's body tensed up. Cum oozing out of his cock as it landed on his stomach. Price moved his hand to stroke Gaz's cock slowly, seemingly trying to drain all his cum out of him. The added pressure of Gaz tensing his body did wonders for Price's cock. He couldn't help the faster pushing of his hips into Gaz. Gaz was a blabbing mess. He was trying to make out words but they just turned into moans. The mixture of cumming and Price's rough thrusts took all the coherent thoughts out of Gaz's mind. 

Price placed both his hands on Gaz waist, using his grip to push Gaz down onto his thrusts. Gaz arched into his touch and raked his nails into Price's back. The aftershock of his orgasm mixing with Price's rough pace made him feel so overstimulated. It was almost too much for him.  

Suddenly, Price pushed his cock deep into Gaz's ass and held them there. Gaz could feel Price's seman fill him up to the brim. Price stuttered his hips deep and slowly into Gaz, making it seem like he wanted Gaz to hold all his cum. With a few slow thrust, Price stilled inside Gaz. Both of them trying to catch their breath. They stared at each other, taking in the appearance of each other's post-orgasm looks.

“I'm gonna move out now Garrick, alright?” Gaz gave Price a slight nod. He moved his hands to Gaz's thighs, slowly pushing his cock out. There were a few winces from Gaz's mouth as he was a bit sore. Price's cock came out with a pop, he stopped and stared as his cum poured out of Gaz's ass. Gaz stretched his legs, pulling Price out of his trance.

Price flopped beside Gaz, kicking his sweats all the way off. Gaz stretched his body out, taking up most of the bed. They both laid in Price's bed, dampen limbs overlapping one another. The sheets surrounded their bodies. It was gross laying in sweat, lubricant, and cum, but they were both too tired to care. The sex (and usually sleepiness effect from weed) sat deep in their bodies. Their eyes closing and opening in different intervals. 

Gaz was gonna miss his plane, but that's for him to fuss over later.

#YAYYY I WROTE SOMETHING AGAIN #Thank u PriceGaz for this #my post #call of duty #captain price #kyle gaz garrick #price x gaz #gaz x price #smut #price smut #gaz smut

[m0e-ru]

the gas station attendant social link alternate universe is about the past and the future. it is about accepting you who you were and who you are and who you'll be. accepting every aspect of yourself, intangible and tangible. that maybe you are fractured, broken, fragmented, empty, torn apart, or one thousand different things. but you are there for yourself, whoever that may be. whoever they may be. it is about love and betreyal and kindness and malice and caring and hate. deliberate or accidental. it is about learning and realizing and doing something about it and doing nothing about it. it is about the constant pursuit of knowledge no matter how fun it is no matter how terrifying it is. no matter if it's a genuine drive or something forced unto the self as one is pushed to the ledge. it is about life and death and what is real and what is not. it is about accepting what is there and making the effort to make it different. it is about stagnancy and improvement. it is about being the same and about change. it is about friendships about family about relationships about the inherent love present in all of it. it is about finding yourself in someone and the choice to help the other to help the self. to fill each other's half empty cups and overflow with gratitude or spill out and become an emptiness so unbearable that the irony of a rush of tears come flooding out somehow. it is about potential and the need to pursue it and find it and accomplish it and grow and grow and grow and learn and learn and learn and live and live and live no matter what anyone says. no matter what you say. it is about god. it is about human. it is about the bond with the one god once called its puppet but lives in the role itself no longer can be called an actor. because of love. because of love.

#kommento #sulululat #gsa sl au #// it was my love btw #// thinking that this silly thing is too 'far gone' but it's a fruit tree of so many personal spiels that maybe deep down I brought this #// to the table because I wanted to have people learn about myself? through something we can both love #// but that's just the thing it's become too personal that no one can relate to it and if anyone does it wrong I bite their face off #// I don't know. regressing back into my little bubble and thinking of other problems. being here is a journey and it's still going #// that there's still so much I can do but I'm reaching a tipping point and I can do everything now or drop it all #// like game dev crunch time. spend four years on it and a 1 and a half year chunk to prep for the live demo at the press conference #// and if you flop or show up with nothing the whole project would just be dropped. and there is nothing left #// all that passion and love and effort is washed away #// I don't even know what I'm aiming for. I just wanted a community. and I do have one but am I not satisfied? #// is there a certain sense of community itself that I want? now I'm selfish and picky? I am not sure #// I should make a relationship chart actually. with bubbles and lines and captions and labels or something. peek into my brain diagrams #// three year anniversary coming up soon... but who knows if I'll still be kicking in six more months. it's a surprise 🎉 #// gsaslau is about god who is not human and a human who does not believe he is human. and somehow they make each other more human #// it is about a child meant to be the avatar of hope falling to his knees having to accept the truth about the people he trusts #// it is about a girl desperately wanting to save everyone and would offer her life to do so. but she wants to live with everyone else #// without another giving up their own life instead #// it is about a man who rises from despair and becomes the beacon of hope he never thought he could be #// it is about a man who wouldnt believe the emptiness in his heart stings. that he could never lose somethng because he never had anything #// it is about someone who relearns who they were and creates who they're going to be. fighting all the urges to destroy such a creation

[serafaina]

OK. OKAY. YOU GUYS.

I am LOVING the fucking chocolate guy’s netflix show! It’s FANTASTIC! Anf hold on to your fucking boots y’all cause it’s actually not what I was expecting at all!

Do you miss the gentleness of the Great British Bake-Off? THIS SHOW IS SO KIND AND GENTLE! For fuck’s sake, NO ONE GETS KICKED OFF! No. No, Listen to this! When they lose the first challenge (a pastry one), the punishment is... They get private lessons with Amaury to help improve what brought their scores down instead of competing in the second chocolate challenge. 

When the one black lady contestant messed up the first challenge I was super bummed and like, OF COURSE. But NO. She got lessons! She struggled! she worked hard! and she won a later challenge! GROWTH MY DUDES! They are there TO LEARN and GROW and Maybe Win a Big Prize!

They ALL get to stay and keep doing their best! and at the end the one who did the best overall is the one who gets the money prize!

Look at this lovely line up! they make COOL LOOKING FANCY THINGS! Amaury tells us how he does some of the fancy things he does! They OFFER TO HELP EACH OTHER WHEN THEY FINISH EARLY AND GET PROPS FOR THAT! (not taunted for not using their own time better). The set up even kinda makes the one who is like, I’m in it to win it, is the villain and doing bad. The rest who are like, I’m here to learn and grow and maybe make friends! AUGH YOU GUYS!

Amaury is soft spoken and kind, and has a pretty voice and a pretty smile and that’s nice to watch too. The chefs are talented and artistic and they actually give the THE TIME to make nice things! It’s not “Wham out some half-assed garbage in 2 hours so we can shotgun the production and laugh at your garbage” like most cooking shows nowadays. NO! 14 hour challenges! They’re still hard, but they get to actually make cool stuff! fancy stuff! Stuff I want to look at and cheer for them!

The episodes average 38 min and aren’t a huge time commitment, the first episode being the longest one, and there are only 8 total so it’s not like you have to really get in for the long haul. \

WATCH IT! Pump it! we need more cooking shows like this and less that are sad and mean!

#the school of chocolate #amaury guichon #gbbo #netflix